The thought made her giggle. In fact, they were branding each other.
With her shopping done, so was the day. Already the sun was passing into the early afternoon and it was time to return home. The soldiers were eager to return, of course, bored silly with having escorted St. Hèver’s wife on a shopping trip. Madelayne was preparing to mount her palfrey even as the soldiers were moving out. Everyone was so focused on the road ahead and making it home before the evening meal that they failed to notice, out of twenty-one men, that Lady St. Hèver neglected to mount her horse as expected. Instead, something caught her attention and she immediately wandered off.
It was a small hovel next to the metalworker’s shed. The words above the door were worn and barely legible, but the symbol was big and recognizable. A star, it was, indicating fortunes and she grinned at the thought of a fortune teller. Perhaps to divine her future with Kaspian? She was more than intrigued. Madelayne ducked into the doorway, entering a dark room that stank with an herb that set her to sneezing.
Her sneezing brought a quick response. From a crouched position beside the smoking hearth, a wild gray head snapped up.
“Bones, bones!” the old woman cackled.
Madelayne came to an uncertain halt. She eyed the woman, barely visible in the dark light. “Pardon?” she asked.
The woman struggled up from her knees, an old stick in her hand from poking at the embers. “Ye come for the bones, missy!”
Madelayne suddenly felt very foolish and perhaps the least bit intimidated. She had always been far too level headed for this nonsense, now wondering why she had even come. “Nay,” she said softly, backing for the door. “I… I have changed my mind.”
The old woman grasped her arm with bony fingers. “Ye came for the bones, missy. I can see it in yer eyes. Ye want tae know!”
Madelayne found herself gazing into one milky eye, one good one. The face was as old as time. The old crone yanked at her, pulling her deeper into the room. “Come along, come along. I’ll tell ye what ye’ve come tae know!”
Madelayne weakly tried to pull away. “Truly, I do not wish to know anything. I already….”
The woman pulled hard on her, forcing her to the ground before the hearth. “Sit!” she commanded. Hobbling to a bag hanging on the wall against numerous other divining implements, she yanked it off the wall, opened the strings, and sank to her knees across from Madelayne. She stared at Madelayne closely as she dug into the bag for its contents.
“Give me yer finger,” she croaked.
Madelayne hesitated before gingerly holding out her right hand. The old woman snatched it, pricking her index finger with something from the bag. Madelayne yelped as the woman squeezed drops of blood onto the dirt before them. Then, she spit into the mix.
“Ah,” the old crone said as she stirred the dirt and spit and blood with a dirty fingernail. “I can see ye now. Ye’re the queen of loss, lady. Ye’ve had much loss in yer life. I see many lost souls around ye, like stars in the heavens. But ye’ve held yerself strong. Ye’ve learned tae endure.”
Madelayne looked at the old woman with a mixture of fear and awe. God’s Bones, wasn’t that what her mother had said once? That the lost souls were the stars in the heavens? Madelayne began to feel very uncomfortable that this woman should immediately pick up on such a thing with her. Was it so obvious? Was she truly the queen of all that was lost? Frightened, she stood up.
“I should not have come,” she said, turning for the door. “You cannot tell me what I do not already know. I do not want to….”
The old woman cut her off. “Ye love him now,” she said before Madelayne could escape. “Ye love him now and ye feel guilty. Never feel the guilt; ye’ve earned what ye have. Ye’ve endured enough.”
Madelayne paused by the door, turning to look at the old woman, who was still on her knees in the dirt, fingers swirling in the spit and blood. It was so very odd what the woman had said and leadingly prophetic. It set Madelayne to pondering her very urge to enter the hovel; if this woman could see so much, perhaps there was reason for her to be there. Perhaps the fates were trying to tell her something. As foolish as it seemed, perhaps there was something the old woman could tell her, something she didn’t already know.
For certain, her curiosity was piqued now with the old witch. Since she’d never had much faith in God, perhaps having faith in a mystic would tell her what she wanted to know. Reluctantly, she headed back into the room.
“Sons,” she said finally. “Will there be sons for us?”
The old woman turned back to the mixture of blood and spit in the dirt. She took something out of the bag by her side and sprinkled it into the mixture as Madelayne watched with great interest. After a moment, she nodded.
“Aye,” she said. “There will be sons. But yer tribulations are not over, lass. Ye’re a survivor and ye’re an avenger. Some that are lost… they cry for justice.”
The answer both pleased and frightened Madelayne. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear anything more but morbid curiosity made her ask. “Who wants justice?”
The old woman continued to stare at her disgusting mixture in the dirt. “They call for vengeance.”
“Who?”
“Those who were betrayed.”
“But that makes no sense – who was betrayed?”
“Ye shall know soon enough.”
Madelayne had no idea what the old woman meant and the more puzzled she became, the more fearful she became. What on earth could the old crone possibly mean? Confused and edgy, she turned for the door once more.
“I will send you coin,” she said. “I have none with me. My name is Lady St. Hèver. My husband is a great knight. You can be assured I will send you the money.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, bolting from the door and hearing it slam behind her as she headed back to her escort. Just as she reached the collection of soldiers and horses, men who had begun searching the area for Lady St. Hèver caught sight of her and rushed to her side, demanding to know if she had been abducted. Madelayne assured them that she was well and she apologized for wandering off. Calmed, the group returned to their mounts as one of the soldiers helped Madelayne onto her palfrey. Just as she was settled, Dolwyd reined his ancient beast next to her.
“Did you find out what you wanted to know?” he asked.
Madelayne glanced at him as she gathered her reins. “What do you mean?”
Dolwyd looked off in the direction where Madelayne had come from, seeing the alleyway between buildings and the small hovel shoved back in the shadows. He, too, could see the carved sign even from the distance – a symbol of a star. He knew what it meant.
“I asked if you were told your future,” he said, glancing at her. “I don’t discount the mystics. There are things in this world that we cannot explain and things we don’t understand.”
Madelayne looked at him with mild surprise. “Then you believe in mystics and witches? Dolwyd, I’m shocked.”
The old physic shook his head. “I didn’t say I believed in them,” he said. “But I don’t discount anything, either.”
It was a noncommittal answer that made her grin. The escort began to move out and Madelayne didn’t say any more about the mystic or anything else. As they headed back to the castle, she kept thinking on the old crone’s words – those who were betrayed. The implication alone was horrifying but Madelayne couldn’t make any sense of it. Who was betrayed? She thought on everyone who had passed away in her life, those lost stars that lingered above her – her mother, her babies, Cairn… the old crone must have been referring to one of those souls but the only one the reference made any sense for would have been Cairn. He was the only one who could have been betrayed because her lost children certainly weren’t. Neither was her mother.
Did Cairn need vengeance for a betrayal?
… dear God… could the old crone have meant the betrayal of affections, perhaps her loving Kaspian?
She wondered.
*
It was well after noon by the time Madelayne and her escort returned to Kirk Castle and the place was bustling with the coming of the mid-day meal. Lord and Lady de Kirk made a big production of every meal, including the smaller ones, so there were servants hurrying about in preparation for the event.
Dismounting her palfrey in the bailey, Madelayne headed for the keep as the escort disbanded. Dolwyd followed behind her, shuffling through the dirt, thinking on telling the woman that she needed to rest after her busy morning but, then again, she never listened to him so he wouldn’t waste his breath. Much as her husband did, she would only do what she wanted to do.
And she did. Having no intention of resting, Madelayne retired to her chamber to remove her borrowed cloak and brush off her borrowed dress of the dust from traveling. Since the nooning meal was upon them, Madelayne thought she might attend in the great hall and try to be social. She’d spent so much of her stay at Kirk being hidden away with Kaspian that she thought that being more social while the man was away was a show of good manners. She didn’t want to leave Kirk with Lady de Kirk still thinking terrible things of the Lavister inhabitants considering all of the chaos they’d brought with them.
So she washed her face with rosewater and brushed her hair, braiding it and then wrapping that braid into a bun at the nape of her neck. The hairpins she had were Mavia’s, borrowed from the woman, and as she shoved them into her hair, she inevitably thought of the woman and about the scandal with Nicholas. She could still hardly believe it. She only wished that Mavia had confided in her about what was going on. Perhaps she could have helped; perhaps not. In any case, now she would never know and that realization saddened her a great deal. She still hurt for her friend, yet another lost star.
Washed and combed, she left her chamber and made her way down to the entry level of the keep. There was a soldier guarding the entry, as there always was, and she passed the man and on into the bailey as she headed for the great hall. She wondered where Dolwyd was because the old physic was never far away from her these days but she assumed he would meet her in the hall. He was probably off sulking because she had insisted on the trip to town and he hadn’t wanted her to go. She smiled about that, hoping to soothe the old man so he would not tell Kaspian what she had done. Lost in thought as she neared the hall, a figure suddenly slipped up beside her.
“Greetings, Lady St. Hèver,” he said.
Startled, Madelayne found herself looking up at Nicholas. Immediately, she put distance between them. “I do not wish to speak to you,” she said. “Please respect my wishes and go away.”
Nicholas wasn’t deterred in the least. In fact, he had been waiting all morning for Madelayne to return from the town so he could put his wicked plan into action. He’d been watching from his window for that long, waiting for the right moment to confront her, and he saw it a few minutes ago when the woman quit the keep and headed towards the great hall, alone. He’d run all the way from his quarters to intercept her.
Now, he had her.
“I am pleased to find you without your shadow,” Nicholas said, referring to Dolwyd. “My lady, there is something very serious I must speak with you about, privately. The old physic must not hear this for if he did, your life would be in danger. For your own safety, I must tell you what I know.”
Madelayne was quickly losing patience. “I do not want to hear anything from you,” she said. “Please leave me alone.”
“It has to do with Cairn.”
Now, her patience was gone and she came to a halt just shy of the great hall entry, facing Nicholas beneath the bright sun. “You will not speak of him, do you hear?” she hissed. “I do not want to hear anything from you, Nicholas de Dalyn. I am not sure how much plainer I can be.”
As she turned for the entry, he spoke quickly. “His death was not an accident.”
Madelayne almost kept walking. She really did. But there was something that made her stop, something annoying and abrasive, something just irritating enough to cause her to come to a halt and turn to Nicholas once more. There was nothing but contempt in her expression.
“I told you not to speak of him,” she said. “If I must tell you again, I will go straight to Lord de Kirk and have him banish you from Kirk. Do you understand me? I will not allow you to harass me and I will not permit you to use Cairn to do it.”
Nicholas held up his hands in supplication, his expression quite serious. “Please my lady,” he begged softly. “I ask for two minutes of your time. Only two. After that, if you do not believe me, I will never bother you again. I swear it.”
Madelayne knew he was lying. Frustrated and upset, she growled as she turned away from him yet again. “I will not hear you.”
“St. Hèver killed Cairn because of you!”
Madelayne froze. Her brittle mind digested the words and she turned for Nicholas, retracing her steps in his direction, and when she finally came upon him, she lashed out a hand and slapped him across the face. Nicholas’ head snapped from the blow.
“You lying, vicious bastard,” she seethed. “How dare you say that! It is not true and you know it!”
Nicholas’ jaw was ticking as he looked at her, furious that she should strike him. But he had to keep his composure; it was imperative if he had any hope of destroying hers. He wanted her to feel unsteady and upset. Reaching out, he grabbed her by the arms and held her fast.
“It is not a lie,” he hissed. “I was at Beeston. I saw St. Hèver order Cairn into an impossible situation where he was overrun by Welsh. He did it because he wanted you, do you understand? He wanted to marry you and the only way to do that was to rid himself of Cairn. By the time he ordered me to help the man, it was too late. St. Hèver ordered Cairn to his death and if you do not watch yourself, he will see that you meet your death as well!”
He was hissing in her face, spraying spittle on her, and she jerked her arms out of his grip, slapping at him again. This time, he blocked her hands, holding on to them as she wrestled to pull free.
“You are a liar!” she said, finally kicking him in the shin to force him to let her go. “How dare you say such things! I am going to tell Kaspian and he will make sure you leave Kirk, and Lavister, for good! Everything was well and good until you came along and now your poison has destroyed good people. You have destroyed my friends! I will not let you destroy me, do you hear? Leave me alone!”
With that, she yanked herself away from him and started running, running towards the keep. Her first thought was to lock herself inside her chamber but she was fearful of what would happen if Nicholas tried to break in. She would be cornered, unable to get away. Not wanting to be cornered by the man, it was best to hide from him so she ran around the side of Kirk’s keep, heading for the stables on the east side.
The structure of Kirk was very new as far as castles went, only built during the last part of the previous century, so the big walls actually had rooms built into them and the keep was part of the wall. The stables were built up into the north side of the structure, big stone buildings, and she ran to them. At this time of day, the stables were busy with horses being tended and men moving about, so she lost herself in the collection of grooms and soldiers that happened to be around, disappearing into one of the two stable structures and hoping she could evade Nicholas.
Time passed and he didn’t show himself. It was quiet and cool in the stable, smelling strongly of hay and urine and horses, but Madelayne didn’t care. She felt somewhat safe there, relieved that Nicholas hadn’t followed her. She still wasn’t over his attempt to upset her, to turn her against Kaspian, and she had already determined that she was going to ask Lord de Kirk to send a message to Kaspian in Shrewsbury. She wanted the man to return for she felt very vulnerable with Nicholas on the prowl, and she was quite certain that Kaspian would want to know that Nicholas was not as ill as he had led everyone to believe. Just another one of his lies in a long string of fabrications.
In the dimness of the stable, sh
e was able to calm herself. Even though it was clear Nicholas hadn’t followed her, she knew at some point she would run into him again and she thought she should probably arm herself in case she had to beat him away.
Against the wall near the door, several barn implements were leaning. There were a couple of shovels, a pitch fork, and a few large sticks that were probably used for prodding the animals. She rushed to the collection of implements and grabbed one of the big, heavy sticks. She had no reservation about using it and, somehow, she didn’t feel quite so vulnerable anymore now that she was armed. At least she had something to defend herself with if Nicholas tried to grab her again.
Armed or not, she wasn’t ready to leave the shelter of the stables yet. She felt safe here. Therefore, she wandered back to the stalls where some of the riding horses were stabled. They were gentle creatures for the most part and she recognized the palfrey she had ridden into town. She had her big stick in one hand as she reached out to pet the little, gray mare. She was rubbing the animal’s velvety nose when a shadow fell across the entry.
Startled, and fearful, she wielded her stick, expecting to see Nicholas but instead seeing one of Lavister’s senior soldiers. She recognized the man; tall and dark-haired with a round face, he was a sergeant that had been with Lavister a very long time. He was a fixture in the army and trusted by the knights. Relieved at the sight of him, she lowered the stick and he smiled hesitantly at her.
“I am sorry to disturb you, my lady,” he said. “I saw you run in here and came to see if everything was well. Is there anything I can do for you?”