“Not real?” the farmer asked. “You saw what it did to Rob. How can ya say the Yule Cat is not real?”
“It’s here. In the castle,” another woman warned, looking around.
“If ya can’t protect us, we’ll do it ourselves,” the farmer said, grasping his pitchfork.
A grumbling of agreement spread through the group.
And there it was. Bastian’s personal fear, coming to life. His fear that people would lose faith in his abilities and take justice into their own hands. How long before they saw the troll in every woman they looked at? How long before someone was hurt?
Just beyond the group, Bastian saw Thora standing, a concerned look on her face. His heart twisted, and he wanted to take her into his arms and allay her fears, but he knew she felt the same way these people did. That he couldn’t protect her. His jaw clenched.
“You didn’t even draw your sword!” the farmer accused.
“It was a raccoon,” Bastian defended, gesturing helplessly to the corpse at his feet.
“It is your job to protect us!” The crowd began to close around him, angry.
“Stop!” Thora’s voice rang out like the bang of a bishop’s staff. Silence followed as the crowd turned to Thora. She approached with her fists clenched, her eyes narrowed. “Captain Bastian defends this castle and people well. You will not defame him, nor say derogatory things about him.”
The farmer glanced at Bastian and then bowed his head in repentance. The rest of the group’s anger dissipated.
Thora hooked her hand through Bastian’s arm. “He is quite capable of defeating all of our foes.”
“What of the Yule Cat, m’lady?” a woman asked.
Thora locked gazes with the woman.
“The Yule Cat is a legend,” Bastian repeated.
Thora met his gaze for a long moment as if she were debating. Debating between agreeing with him and… sticking to her story about a fictional monster. A monster that had stolen her childhood, taken away the magic of the Yule.
“It is not real,” he insisted to Thora as well as the peasants. “You have to stop chasing it because it doesn’t exist.”
“How can you say that after you saw with your own eyes what it did to Rob?” the farmer demanded, clenching his pitchfork tightly.
“After it burned down our stables?” someone else asked with vehemence.
“I’ll prove it,” Bastian proclaimed. “With facts.” He walked away from the group, from Thora, tearing his arm from her grip. Hurting because she hadn’t agreed with him. His heart twisted with anguish because he didn’t know if she believed him capable of protecting her.
“We don’t need facts. We need protection,” the farmer called out after him.
Thora stared at Miracle as she licked her black paw on the edge of the bed. The cat sat on the bed across from Thora, her black fur gleaming in a shaft of sunlight streaming in from the window.
Thora twisted her hands. The Yule was one day away. The people were acting out with fear. That poor raccoon. Their distress was getting worse. It wasn’t fair to them to keep this secret. And it certainly wasn’t fair to Bastian. They had treated him with such disrespect, such doubt. And yet, how could she tell them about what really happened? How would they react toward her? Would the villagers ever believe her again after telling a lie for years? And what about Miracle? Would her people beat the cat with sticks?
Thora reached a hand across the bed toward Miracle for comfort.
Miracle opened her eyes, lowered her paw, and bestowed Thora with an imperious half-lidded gaze. But she didn’t run away.
Thora wished Miracle would not be so frightened, and would allow Thora to pet her. As her hand neared, Miracle tensed. Thora knew the cat would run away if she got closer and so she lowered her hand. The memory of the squires holding Miracle above the snapping flames of the bonfire played out in her mind. How could she ever give Miracle up and watch them kill her? Yet, how could she not when the villagers treated Bastian like that? When their faith in his abilities was fading? It was becoming dangerous.
She needed to tell Bastian-- but how?
A knock came at her door. She glanced at Miracle in time to see her leap from the bed and scurry into her dark shelter.
Thora stood up and walked to the door. She opened it and was surprised to find Bastian standing there.
He yanked Rob into her view and commanded, “Tell her.”
Rob tucked his head in embarrassment. “It was supposed to be a harmless prank. We just wanted to scare some people.”
Thora glanced at Bastian to see a furious scowl on his brow.
“No one got hurt!” Rob insisted.
“Tell her,” Bastian asserted again.
“There was no Yule Cat. The second time. Tommy and I thought it would be funny to… pretend.” He bowed his head and ran his fingers across his chest. “I used a dagger to make the scratch marks.”
Bastian had been right. But to go to this extreme seemed ridiculous, even for the squires. This was more than a prank. Attention -- they wanted attention. Perhaps from the miller’s daughter. Thora narrowed her eyes.
Bastian shook Rob’s arm to encourage him to keep speaking.
“And the scratch marks on the ground. We did those with Sir Garrett’s sword,” Rob admitted.
Thora glanced at Bastian.
Bastian explained, “The scratch marks near the stable. I don’t know if you saw those.”
Thora recalled Bastian kicking dirt over part of the ground but hadn’t realized it was due to scratch marks. Bastian had kept that from her.
“Sir William won’t be pleased,” Bastian said through clenched teeth. “And the rest.”
Rob glanced at Bastian and then back at Thora. His head drooped. “The night of the barn fire… well, we found a cat… and we were playing with it.”
Thora’s jaw tightened. She knew what they had been doing to Miracle, and it hadn’t been playing. She cast a quick glance toward Miracle’s hiding spot and looked back at Rob.
“At first we didn’t think it was the Yule Cat. But then, the troll woman --”
Bastian shook him.
“I mean, someone pushed me into the fire. Who else could it have been? It must have been the Yule Cat and the troll woman.”
“Or maybe it was someone who didn’t like the way you were playing with the cat.” Bastian looked at Thora.
Her mouth dropped open, and her chest constricted tightly. Did he know? Did he suspect she had shoved Rob into the fire?
“We were just playing with it! You know…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…Petting it.”
Bastian pulled him close. “I will speak to Sir William about this. It is obvious you have too much time on your hands. I’m certain he will come up with other tasks for you to occupy yourself.”
Rob sighed and closed his eyes.
Bastian pushed him down the hallway. “Go and tell Tommy I will be speaking with Sir Garrett, also. The two of you can start by mucking out the makeshift stables.”
“And tell the truth,” Thora added, calling after him. “People are terrified.”
Rob shuffled off down the hallway.
Bastian turned to Thora. His intense gaze bore into her. “It was a dangerous game those two were playing.”
Thora nodded, wondering if she was going to be the next one to endure Bastian’s questioning. Or just his kisses.
“Can I come in?” Bastian asked.
Thora nodded and stepped aside, allowing him entry. She shut the door, partly hoping he would take her in his arms again and partly fearful he would start questioning her. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she was afraid he would not look at her with the same smoldering look. And that was something that would break her heart.
“Thora,” Bastian began.
She winced. She wanted to tell him everything. But she was afraid for Miracle. “You told me you would kill this Yule Cat if you found it. Will you?” Thora asked.
Bastian si
ghed softly. “What those villagers did to that raccoon was merciless. I would never condemn an animal to that.”
Tears rose in her eyes. She looked down, wishing... Wishing she didn’t feel reluctant to tell him the truth. Wishing he would understand why she hadn’t told tell him. But she knew he would hate her for not telling the truth earlier. He had been searching for the truth for so long, and it stood right in front of him.
He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted it to look into her eyes. “Don’t be afraid. The Yule Cat does not exist. The villagers are frightened for no reason.”
She nodded. But that was not the reason she was scared. Her heart ached. How could she choose between Miracle and Bastian? Bastian could defend himself. Miracle was helpless. She couldn’t let her Miracle be hurt. She had given her vow to the cat. “What they said to you. It’s not the truth. I have faith in your ability to protect us.”
He sighed softly and stepped back, releasing her. “Against any real foe, I don’t doubt it. But against an imaginary one… Against the Yule Cat?” He pulled something out of the pocket of his cloak. He twirled it in his fingers. “I almost have it solved. But that stable fire. I can’t figure out who started it.” He shook his head.
And then, with a jolt of excitement, Thora recognized the item in his hand. “My bracelet! Where did you find it?”
A moment passed, and he didn’t move. His fingers stopped moving over the golden bracelet, and he stared at it. Then, slowly, his golden gaze lifted to her. “It was you.”
Chapter 14
The puzzle pieces came together, as the bracelet was the final piece. He hadn’t known who it belonged to. But now, he knew. Thora had been there the night the stables burned. “It was you.” It came out as half a gasp, half an accusation.
The joy left her face, and her eyes widened.
He stood, certain in his conviction. “You were there. You were at the stables the night they burned.”
She crossed her arms before her, clutching them.
“The bracelet is yours.” He held it up. “I found it in the remains of the burned stable.”
Her mouth opened as if she were going to offer an excuse, but then quickly snapped shut.
“The water bowl.” He glanced at the side of the bed. It wasn’t in the same spot, but he noticed it on the floor and pointed to it. He looked back at her. “The reason you asked me if all cat’s eyes glowed. I saw you coming out of the kitchen with fish. You don’t even like fish, and yet you asked Cook for it.”
She bowed her head, her gaze moving over the floor.
“It was all there right before my eyes. A cat -- a real cat. Tommy and Rob weren’t petting the cat, were they, Thora? They weren’t playing with it.”
She shook her head. When she lifted her gaze, tears glistened in her deep blue eyes. “They were hurting it. Kicking it into the fire. Burning the fur on its tail and body.”
“And you couldn’t let that happen, could you?”
She shook her head, a lock of red hair coming free from her braid and hanging against her pale cheek. “They said it was the Yule Cat, and they laughed as they hurt it.”
Bastian scowled. It all came back to that damned legend.
“They wouldn’t let it escape. They just kept kicking it… and burning it.” Her face contorted in anguish. “At first, I really thought it was the Yule Cat. But I couldn’t stand by and watch them keep hurting her. No creature should be treated like that. I realized she wasn’t the Yule Cat, just an innocent cat. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wanted to tell you. I tried --”
“You have it here, don’t you?” His gaze swept over her bed, the table. “Hidden in your room.”
Her face drained of color, and she stepped protectively before the bed, her arms outstretched to the sides. “You can’t. You can’t take her. She’s innocent. Miracle wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’s not the Yule Cat.”
“Miracle?” Bastian repeated.
Thora nodded. “Please, Bastian. Please. Don’t hurt her. She’s just a little cat. She’s harmless.”
Bastian furrowed his brow. Thora thought he was going to hurt the cat. No wonder she hadn’t told him. “Thora,” he said gently.
“She’s just a little cat. She won’t hurt you.”
The thought made him grin. “I won’t hurt her.”
“You said you would kill the Yule Cat were you to find it,” she said, her chest trembling. “You said you would take it to my father and have it beheaded.”
That was the reason she hadn’t told him; she’d thought confessing meant death for the cat. She had saved the cat and was now protecting it. She was never concerned about her own welfare.
“You said it’s not the Yule Cat.”
She stood for a long moment, gazing at him as if uncertain whether he was friend or foe. Finally, she took his hand. “Here.” She led him to the side of the bed. “See for yourself.” She knelt at the side of the bed, peering beneath it.
Bastian followed her, kneeling at her side. He looked into the dark shadows. A pile of blankets formed a sort of bed. And then he saw them -- two glowing eyes, reflecting the light from the window.
“She’s innocent,” Thora whispered. “Just a tiny little animal. Rob and Tommy were torturing her. She didn’t have anyone to protect her.”
Bastian groaned inwardly and sat back against the wall. His instincts were immediately to protect the damned cat. Thora had safeguarded the cat the only way she knew how. He rested his arm on his bent knee and peered at Thora. “I thought you were afraid of cats. Of the Yule Cat. It attacked you.”
Thora sat beside him, her arm brushing against his. “I was wrong. I think the cat that attacked me when I was little was probably just frightened. She was probably trying to get away.” She touched the scratches on her cheek. “I don’t think she meant to hurt me.” She bowed her head. “How foolish I’ve been.”
A smile stretched over Bastian’s lips. That was the Thora he loved. Loved? He looked at her, her concerned gaze unwavering from the darkness beneath the bed. Her smooth brow marred with concern.
Yes. Loved.
He loved her caring and her passion for the protection of innocent animals, much like his own need to protect those he was sworn to guard. He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it.
She looked at him. “It was me. I pushed Rob into the fire to free Miracle. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wanted him to let her go. She ran into the stables, and I chased after her. I’m sorry for not telling you, but you said you would kill the Yule Cat.”
Bastian grinned. “She’s not the Yule Cat.”
“Father will think she is. My people will think she is. You saw what they did to the raccoon. I lost Midnight in the fire. I won’t lose Miracle, too.”
Bastian placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight. He would never let anyone harm her or her damned cat. He brushed a kiss to her head. “At least the cat didn’t start the stable fire.”
“Actually…” She drew back to look into his eyes, wincing. “I think she might have. When she ran into the stables, her tail was on fire. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I think that might have been how the fire began.”
He had to agree with her. There was a lot of hay in the stable. Any stray ember could have started the stable fire. Yet, it could have been from Rob’s burning arm, too. They would never be certain.
“What are we to do?” she asked.
He was grateful she was looking to him for answers. He was grateful she included him in her secret. He was very grateful that she trusted him. “You have to tell the truth. It’s the only thing that can save your cat.”
Chapter 15
The Great Hall was crowded, but strangely quiet. Having finished the Yule meal, the villagers now sat at the empty tables and talked in hushed voices, almost as if they were afraid to leave. The warmth from the fire in the hearth washed over the room. The wind whistled outside. The soft tunes of a bard’s flute flo
ated from the corner.
Thora made her way through the crowd, nodding greetings to the farmers and villagers who had come for the Yule log burning. It was supposed to be a celebration, but unease permeated the air. A small boy raced past Thora, giggling as he chased a brown hound that was as tall as he was. Thora grinned at the child’s carefree play.
Across the Hall, Thora caught Bastian gazing at her. Tremors raced along her skin that had nothing to do with their plan. He was her confidant, her friend, and her love. He stood a head higher than the rest of the men, making him hard to miss. He nodded almost imperceptibly.
Tightness squeezed Thora’s chest. It was time.
For a moment, the room spun, and she closed her eyes to steady herself. She swallowed and opened her eyes, making her way to the hearth. On her way, Bella eased her hand into Thora’s grasp. When Thora looked down at her, Bella smiled. Some of Thora’s anxiety fell away at the child’s complete trust. “Come. Gather round for a story,” she announced.
Children eagerly followed her to the hearth.
Bella skipped beside her, gazing at her with large, brown eyes. “What is the story about?”
“Will there be knights in it?” one of the boys with dark hair asked.
Thora thought about this. “Well, there will be squires.”
“Will they stab things?”
“Will there be a princess?” a little girl asked.
Thora sat in the padded chair before the hearth. Children clustered around her, excitedly, crossing their legs to sit on the floor. Other youths stood at the edges, gazing at her expectantly.
Villagers positioned themselves behind her, near the wooden tables.
Lord Rowley seated himself beside her in a chair, staring at her with fond approval. Rob and Tommy lounged near the hearth, looking repentant and unhappy.
The room became even quieter as the villagers waited to hear the tale.
Thora took a deep breath. She twisted her hands in her lap anxiously. She didn’t know how her people would react to the truth. Yet, she had to do this. It was the right thing to do. “A long time ago, there was a little girl who was afraid of a Yule Cat.”
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 41
