by Robyn Carr
Aisla longed for Thea’s company. Faon cared nothing about tidy rooms, cleanliness, or the keeping of her clothes. The only thing that Faon was fussy about was being seductively dressed to draw Hyatt’s eye, and it took no time at all to help her dress. Then Thea and Aisla were free to roam about, flirt with Hyatt’s men, gambol across the fields and gardens, and play tricks on the other servants.
Aisla, at four and ten, was two years junior to Thea, but they had been like sisters since Faon collected them into her service nearly three years ago. For the first time Thea was occupied with real work, for Aurélie would not let her have an idle moment. It was much easier to escape work with someone than alone. Aisla was lonely and bored.
“Aisla!”
She jumped at the sharp sound of her name. She turned to see Faon striding toward her, an irritated grimace on her face.
“There you are, you lazy whore. Here,” she said, thrusting a tray of food toward Aisla. “Her royal ladyship, Aurélie, is sick abed today and I was told to have this tray of midday food delivered to her. You were nowhere to be found and I’ll not wait on her myself. Take it to the lady’s rooms, and mind you, do not be tempted by it yourself or you’ll be beaten.”
“Lady Aurélie is sick?”
“Aye, so it goes. There’s a deal of fluttering and complaining and worrying about the witch when she’s down. Perrine can’t keep her mind on Derek and I don’t have anyone else. Now you take this tray and don’t you dare touch it. Leave it with the lady to eat at her leisure. Then you go back to my rooms and you stay there until I tell you otherwise. Now I mean to look for you; you had better mind for once or I’ll slap you obedient.”
Aisla curtsied nervously. “Is Sir Hyatt with her?”
“Nay, Hyatt does not care for women’s troubles. He’s ridden off with his men.” Faon grunted derisively. “He does not even bid his own brother faretheewell. Now get on with you; I’ve had enough of your flighty ways.”
“Aye, madame.”
Aisla took the tray quickly through the hall and up the stairs. She knocked hopefully on the chamber door and grinned when Thea answered it.
“What have you got?” Thea asked.
Aisla peered past Thea into the room, seeing no one within. “I was told the lady was sick abed.”
“Humph,” Thea smirked. “She was for a time, and a fitful morning it was. She was in a high-flown temper about the way I’d put away her clothes and threatened me with every curse in the land. ‘I don’t have much, but what I have will be taken care of proper or I’ll give the job to someone who can do it,’ she says to me. Then she puts the little girl to teach me the task. Then she says that she’ll show me how to scrub pots, since I can’t take care of a lady’s dresses. And then …”
“She does not sound sick,” Aisla said.
“She does not seem sick. Not too sick to growl and curse. Then she says that if I scrub pots as bad as I clean her bedchamber I can shovel horse dung, since the good fellow who did that ran off.” Thea grimaced. “I would ferry off, if this heathen place weren’t so bad with soldiers.”
Aisla shrugged. “What do I do with this?”
Thea thought for a moment. “She’s gone up to the looms with her little brat, Baptiste. It might serve to ease up her bad temper if I take it to her. Let me.” Thea took the tray from Aisla and flashed a rare smile. “When I come back, help me straighten her gowns, Aisla.”
“I can’t. Mistress Faon yelled at me, too. She told me to get back to her rooms and wait for her and said if I didn’t, I’d get a beating.” Aisla shuddered suddenly. “The whole castle’s gone mad.”
“At least the women,” Thea agreed, closing the chamber door and walking past Aisla with the tray.
Thea walked slowly up to the next level of the castle to the room where six looms stood and several women gathered daily for weaving. She thought about what she would say and how she would win Aurélie’s favor. Thea had begun to hate the lady. She was not only difficult to please, but almost daily Faon pulled Thea aside to question her about the events that took place behind Aurélie’s bedchamber door, and there was nothing to tell.
There was Thea’s greatest burden; she could not please either mistress. Her work was not good enough for Aurélie, and Faon was becoming more angry each day, for Thea had no conspiracies to report. She had never felt more alone.
She kicked a stray cat that had followed the smell of food out of the way and went into the weaving room. Aurélie sat on a stool beside an active loom and pulled a piece of yarn between her finger and thumb. The cast of the lady’s skin had a grayish pallor and Thea almost felt pity, for she did not look well. But then jealousy sprang up anew, for Perrine stood close by with Derek hanging onto her skirts, guarding her old mistress. Faon had fallen far from her post of importance, which put Thea farther still.
Thea checked her snappish mood and approached Aurélie. “My lady, I have brought you food. If you will not stay abed, you must at least eat.”
Aurélie looked up in surprise. “How very thoughtful of you, Thea. That is a high virtue: to anticipate the needs of others.”
Thea tried to smile and, holding the tray with one hand, drew back the cloth that covered the food. A cup of spiced wine and a bowl of caudled brewis emitted a luscious aroma of herbs and meat, but the lady blanched white at the sight and smell and clutched her stomach.
“Take it away, Thea. I am sorry, but I can’t even abide the …” Her hand rose quickly to her mouth and she blinked her eyes tightly closed, fighting for control.
Perrine dashed forward, her face wrought with worry and impatience. “You heard the lady, miss. Get the stuff out of here. At once!” Perrine roughly pushed her out of the way and at once all those nearby bent over Aurélie, fussing and petting her.
Thea backed out of the room, near tears. She hated this heathen place. She had been separated from her only friend and there was no possible way to win favor. She had expected her show of concern to at least get thanks, and if not that, some demonstration of acceptance. Instead, she was treated as if she’d done something wrong. Such injustice hurt her pride and brought a new swell of anger.
She went back to Aurélie’s bedchamber and plopped down on the bed in a huff. She still held the tray on her lap and the same pesty cat jumped brazenly onto the bed. “She gives me more work than I can do and doesn’t care if I get a meal. No concern for the lowly servants, no thanks for what is done well, but great scorn for any minor mistake.” She picked up a crust of bread from the tray and nibbled on it and the cat meowed, begging. “What’s the difference; she won’t touch it. I may as well have it.”
Thea dipped the bread in the bowl of brewis and lifted the mug of spiced wine. She chewed ravenously, gulped the liquid to wash down her mouthful and dipped the bread again. Her spine stiffened suddenly and her features hardened in pained wonder. A searing fire spread from her throat to her stomach and her whole body was gripped in a spasm of horror. The tray fell from her lap and crashed onto the floor while Thea’s hands gripped her belly and she rolled back onto the bed, groaning in a vicious and sudden agony. But the pain was short-lived and her limbs relaxed as she lay still.
* * *
Aurélie swayed slightly on the stool and Perrine caught her shoulders.
“This is such foolery, madame. There is little sense in pretending you are not ill. You must heed Hyatt and go back to bed.”
Aurélie recovered herself and tried to sit upright. “This is so difficult for me to understand, Perrine. What is this strange illness that comes and goes? Will I lose this child that I carry?”
“Thus far you have had no trouble carrying the babe and ’tis my thinking that you’ve had a piece of bad food and it will pass. How can you hope to recover from this spell if you do not rest? Come back to your bed and let me fix you a balm.”
“Perhaps you are right. But you will have to find something for Thea to do outside of my chamber, for the girl tests my wrath. I went in search of a wrapper this morn
and found my clothes stuffed into the coffer, nothing laundered, folded, mended, or even put in its proper place.” She sighed. “I thought to give her my clothing to keep would be the simplest chore.” Baptiste touched Aurélie’s shoulder and the latter looked up at her with grateful eyes. “And this little one works so hard to cover Thea’s laziness.”
“Come along, my lady,” Perrine urged. “To bed.”
Aurélie nodded in assent, a look of defeat on her drawn features. She stood and took a step and the room immediately began to sail around her in a wild spinning motion. Her sense of balance was gone and her stomach lurched in wretched nausea. She stumbled and swooned, and Perrine caught her.
“Lay her down here and get a blanket and pillow.” With the help of the other women they rested Aurélie on the floor. There were several women present and much fluttering about made for a chaotic scene while they fashioned a pallet for their mistress. Aurélie closed her eyes until the room stilled somewhat and she felt safe in opening them. Perrine knelt on the floor beside her. “We shall not attempt the stairs, lass. You lie here until a strong man able enough to carry you can be found.”
“Perrine … I am afraid. What if I should lose the child?”
“None of that, sweetheart. You lie still and let me take care of you. All will be well.”
“Perrine,” she whimpered. “Don’t … forget Derek. He could fall down the stairs or hurt himself on a loom.”
No sooner did Aurélie mention the lad than she noticed him crouched on the floor right beside her. He looked at her most curiously, as if he could not understand the reason for a woman to lie supine on the floor. He reached out a chubby little hand to touch her wimple.
“Baptiste,” Perrine instructed. “Take Derek out of—”
“Let him stay, Perrine. He does no harm and he must stay with you. Should Faon see him with Baptiste, she will seize the moment for some trickery.” Aurélie smiled up into Perrine’s eyes. “We both need you at the moment.”
* * *
From a safe, concealed position in the wood, Hyatt watched his brother’s group leave and travel down the road away from De la Noye. The distance was too great to make out small details, but the number of people, horses, and carts could be seen. And the road that Ryland had chosen was due west, as if he traveled to Bordeaux, but there was a crossroad a few miles farther that he could take toward Innesse, if he chose. Guillaume was watching from the small camp he and Girvin had made. The two men had spent many days and nights in their hidden copse, but on this mission Girvin was with Hyatt.
“If they choose the road to Innesse, Guillaume will see them?”
“Yea, Hyatt, though it amazes me that they still travel that road and do not creep through the trees to do their meeting. It seems brazen and foolish to me.”
“Did you instruct the guards at the gate to search Ryland’s carts?”
Girvin smiled. “Ryland will not take anything out of De la Noye that you will miss.”
Hyatt looked over his shoulder at Girvin. “Do you think she has gone with him?”
Girvin shrugged. “My orders to your men were very clear; they will let Mistress Faon escape, but not the boy. You can see that no woman travels with them. If she has gone, she dresses like a page or squire.”
An oddly placed look of disappointment crossed Hyatt’s features. “Why would she escape me when I have offered her so much? I would pay her fare, give her protection on her journey, and buy her a decent lodging. Yet she would flee? Disguised?” He shook his head. “I admit that I do not understand women.”
“There has been much whispering, Hyatt, that she found a warm place in Ryland’s bed. If she goes away with him in some disguise to keep you from seeing her depart, it can only mean she plots against you now. She hoped for a long time that you would come to her side one day, but when you wed the lady, Faon lost her greatest wish.”
“But she knows the reason. She admitted that she played me false, but I was generous. I accepted my own part in being made a fool and would not give her another opportunity to use me.”
“You may not have given her the chance, Hyatt,” Girvin grumbled. “But she saw her chance when you took a liking to your son. You should have removed the boy from her at once.”
Hyatt was mute. That Girvin was right brought him no satisfaction. A small boy needs a mother’s love, and Hyatt had hoped that Faon would be a satisfactory mother even if she could not be a good wife or mistress.
“If we find the woman still waiting at De la Noye, I shall begin making plans for her departure. But I think we are too hopeful, Girvin. She does not appear to be finished with me yet. I suppose she waits even now with some plan meant to trap me and bring me back to her.”
The troop that Ryland led was over the farthest knoll when Hyatt turned his small party about and led them back to De la Noye. Their passage was unhurried and some game that was spotted along the way was speared or shot from the bow. The sun was setting its path to rest before the gates were in sight, and Hyatt felt a ravenous hunger. He looked forward to his first relaxing evening in his own hall since Ryland’s arrival. He had let his brother stay for over a month, which was far longer than he had intended.
He dismounted just inside the wall so that a page could take his steed and was just pulling off his gauntlets when the crouched figure of the old woman who served Faon came rushing toward him.
“Messire, messire, I did not know what she would do … and now the lady is ill and no one will let me help. Seigneur, you must let me tend your lady. Only I can save her.”
“What is this?”
“Faon, Sir Hyatt. I have searched everywhere, but she has stolen my herbs, my roots. I cannot find Faon to question her, and she alone would be so bold as to take those medicines that I mix. ’Twas poison, Sir Hyatt.” The old woman twisted her hands and shuddered. “And Lady Aurélie is ill. I fear Faon has tried to kill her.”
Hyatt grasped the old woman by the arms and nearly shook her, but her frail, withered body felt like brittle sticks in his hands. “What do you say? Where is Faon?”
“My most dangerous herbs are missing and Faon may know their use, for we have talked about my medicines. And I cannot find her, but the lady is ill and cannot be moved.”
“Where is Lady Aurélie?”
“In the weaving rooms, milord. Her woman won’t have her moved.”
“And you know the remedy?”
“If there is a remedy, messire, I could find it. I could purge her of the poison. That she is not dead means she did not have much. But they won’t accept my offer of help. The women won’t let me near her.”
“Come with me,” Hyatt barked, taking the old woman’s arm. He dragged her toward the hall and within just a moment he was aggravated with her slow pace. Without releasing her, he grabbed a mare that was being led to stable and heaved the old woman on the horse’s back. He took the reins and ran in a panicked stride, the ancient woman holding onto the mane for dear life.
When they reached the hall he helped Nima down and dragged her through the doors and up the stairs. “You cannot find Faon?”
“She is nowhere, messire,” Nima huffed.
“My son?”
“With the woman Perrine and your lady.”
“Did Faon tell you what she would do?”
“She hates your lady wife, messire. She is torn with jealousy and asked me to mix a brew that would kill her, but I refused.” Nima gasped for breath. “You must believe that I refused.”
Hyatt reached the second level, and the old woman slumped, already exhausted. He looked at her with a frown of impatience.
“I can go on, messire. We must see to your wife.”
Hyatt pulled her along and finally reached the weaving rooms, throwing open the doors. Hyatt went straight to the pallet where Aurélie lay and knelt down beside her.
“Oh Hyatt, I am sorry. I am ill.”
“Your stomach? Your head?”
“A fearful weakness, and each time I try to rise
, the room spins round and round. I cannot walk for fear of falling.”
“We did not try to carry her down the stairs, Sir Hyatt,” Perrine informed him. “And this old woman has pestered us the day long.”
“Perhaps she can help. Did you not listen to her?”
Hyatt turned and regarded Nima, who stepped cautiously closer. Nima’s brow was furrowed in confusion. “The poison is quick and frightful, messire. Perhaps that is not the lady’s malady. Let me look at her, I beg you.”
Hyatt scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her to the door. “Come to my chamber and have a look. Perrine, come along and watch this old woman, lest she trick me somehow.”
Hyatt carried Aurélie down the stairs. She looped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. “Why are you so hard on the old woman? What is this business of poison?”
“Faon is nowhere to be found and the old woman claims that her most dangerous herbs and roots are missing. She fears you have been poisoned by Faon.”
“But that’s absurd. What poison causes one to be dizzy? And I have suffered with this strange ailment for days.”
“I thought I ordered you to bed.”
“I tried, Hyatt. I cannot abide such.” She held him closely. “Hyatt, if I fail to bring your child to life, will you hate me?”
He stopped in midstride just before his chamber door. “Hate you, Aurélie? I know you would not purposely end the very life you have longed for. Not even to spite me. Stop such talk.”
Hyatt stood still for a moment and moved out of the way so that Perrine could open the chamber door. She gasped at the sight within, frozen in shock. Hyatt, too, was immobile, for there lay Thea on the bed, motionless, and on the floor by the bed were the spilled remains of a tray of food and beside that, the dead body of a cat. Aurélie tried to lift her head to see, but any movement caused her senses to reel. “What is it, Hyatt?”
Nima pushed through them though they blocked the door. She alone had the courage to look at the corpse. Thea’s face was twisted in agony, her eyes open and her palms facing up. The cat lay stiff and cold on the floor and the wine and brewis had stained the rushes.
