While part of the corridor led off in to the darkness, there was only one other doorway that Josephine could see, with a heavy oak and iron door guarding it. Chauncey had opened that door to take her into a chamber beyond that could only be described as cavernous.
In fact, Josephine couldn’t even see the ceiling, it was so tall. The corners of the room were bathed in darkness until servants bustled in with banks of tallow tapers, setting them into the corners of the room and lighting it up with a golden glow. Only then did Josephine get a good look at the room and, although it was plainly furnished, it was absolutely huge.
Since it was on the ground floor of the keep, the windows were high up in the walls, towards the ceiling. They were small lancet windows that only let in air and a small amount of light. They weren’t meant for a view or for pleasure. This was a room built to withstand a siege but, to Josephine, it looked more like a prison.
She prayed it wouldn’t become her tomb.
Chauncey had mumbled something about sending her food and a companion, and Josephine really didn’t care what he’d meant by the companion part. All she wanted to do was go to bed. And after peeling off the clothes she’d been traveling in for two days, she did just that. But when she awoke in the morning, there had been a heavy-set woman bustling around in the room, silently unpacking the two trunks Josephine had brought with her, putting it all into a giant wardrobe with a broken door.
Josephine had been leery of the woman at first. She didn’t like strangers rifling through her things, which happened to be all of the dresses that the earl had sent her as wedding presents. Madelaine had found two serviceable trunks the night of her departure from Edinburgh and had packed everything up neatly.
As Josephine had climbed out of bed, preparing to confront the servant who was unpacking for her, a nearby table caught her eye. There was food upon it, and drink, and a big wooden bowl of what looked like steaming water. When Josephine sniffed it, she could smell the faint scent of rosemary. She could even see the little pieces of rosemary floating around in the water. Realizing this was meant for her to wash in, she quickly went about locating the oils and soaps that she knew Madelaine had packed.
When the heavy-set servant saw that the new mistress was awake, she jumped in to assist. Josephine quickly discovered that the woman was a mute, and had no way of speaking, but she communicated well enough with her hands and expressions. And she seemed very eager to help, so Josephine allowed the woman to bathe her as she literally inhaled all of the food on the table. She was absolutely starving. But the more she ate, and the better she began to feel, the more her thoughts wandered to her surroundings; specifically, to Haldane in general.
There was great curiosity because this was where Andrew had been born. It was his home. She could hardly believe so dark and terrible a place would have been his home, but she knew it hadn’t always been like this. Being in the hands of Alphonse had made it a terrible place.
But it was more than simply the appearance of the place, which was dark and menacing. It was the sheer mood that settled over the grounds and structure like a cloying fog. From what servants she had seen, everyone looked like beaten dogs. Even the air was heavy and full of fear. Living with a monster would do that.
Josephine didn’t want to look like they did, scared of their own shadows, and she began to seriously wonder if Andrew wasn’t right behind her, having followed her from Edinburgh. God, she hoped so. She fervently prayed that he was; somehow, she knew that he was. She knew he wouldn’t leave her here in this horrible place for his brother to feast upon.
God, please let him be close behind me!
Thoughts of Andrew were heavy on her mind as she finished her meal. The mute servant, whose name she didn’t even know, helped her into a surcote that was made from the finest wool, very light, and dyed yellow from saffron. Beneath it, she wore a shift of equally fine lamb’s wool, with long sleeves. The servant didn’t seem to be very good with hair, so Josephine brushed her hair out with a horsehair brush, braided it at the nape of her neck, and wound the braid up into a bun and pinned it. She felt clean, and rested, and ready to see the grounds of Haldane Castle. Her curiosity about the place was growing, but she was most curious about one thing in particular.
Andrew’s mother.
Thoughts of the woman had been in the back of her mind since her arrival. In fact, she thought she might have even dreamed about the woman who had been kept in the dungeons for years and years. Now, it was all she could think about. Alphonse had declared his mother to be alive, and a great part of Josephine wanted to locate the woman and see for herself. But an equally compelling part was fearful of Alphonse’s reaction should he discover she’d given in to her curiosity.
Josephine was certain Alphonse wouldn’t willingly let him see the woman. It was just a feeling she had. But Josephine was determined, and she wasn’t sure what else she was going to do with her time here at Haldane, sitting around and waiting for Andrew to make an appearance. Why not discover for herself if Andrew’s mother was still alive? Or was she simply to stay to her room, hiding away and dreading every footstep, thinking it was Alphonse finally coming for her?
But that wasn’t the way she could live. Josephine refused to live in fear. She had to believe that Andrew was coming for her, and that he would very shortly be here, and that he would be deeply grateful to know that his mother was alive. He would undoubtedly be very grateful to see the woman freed from her dungeon home.
… freed?
God’s Bones, Josephine knew that was a stupid idea, but she simply couldn’t help herself. The poor women had been locked away for so long, caged no better than an animal. It simply wasn’t right. Perhaps, she could free the woman and have her run for safety somewhere in the surrounding area to await Andrew’s return. At least she’d be out of the dungeons and not a target for Alphonse’s hatred.
Even as she entertained such thoughts, Josephine knew these were the ideals of a madwoman, yet she simply couldn’t help it. But first, she had to find the elusive mother, and that meant discovering where she was being kept. Dungeons, Alphonse had once said. So that was the place she would start.
Fortunately, the mute servant didn’t stop her when she left the chamber. The woman was still busy unpacking and made no move to follow her or prevent her from leaving. Josephine grabbed a nearby cloak hanging on a peg and swung it over her shoulders, and exited the chamber.
There was some apprehension as she set out alone in this foreboding place. The corridor outside her chamber was still dark, but not quite as dark as it had been. Last night, it had stretched off into darkness. But this morning, Josephine could see a heavily-fortified door at one end with sunlight streaming in through a small, barred window at the top. She went to the door, passing by a latrine alcove as she went, and threw both bolts on the door. Pulling it open, she stepped out into the sunny area beyond.
The day was bright but cool. Josephine was cautious as she walked outside, peering around the side yard that she was in and not really seeing anyone at all. There were a couple of servants over near the moat, but she couldn’t tell what they were doing. They noticed her, however, and eyed her as she walked around the side of the building, heading to the front entry. They noticed her but said nothing, and Josephine moved on.
Looking up at the great structure, Josephine could see why it seemed so dark – it was made with dark stone and up towards the top, there were great streaks of white, either bird dung or some other kind of effect caused by the moisture and weather. It was as if the stones weren’t wearing well. But the walls were very tall, pocked with small lancet windows here and there. Truly, the keep was a very dark place with only these tiny windows for ventilation and light but, as Josephine had observed, the building was most definitely made to withstand an attack.
And the moat… as Josephine crossed over the lowered drawbridge, with absolutely no one questioning her or speaking to her, she noticed that there were all kinds of rotting animal carcasses thro
wn into it, and she swore she even saw a man or two. It was appalling and the stench was overwhelming. Quickly, she crossed the moat and headed into the vast bailey beyond.
The main bailey was wide open, with stables off to the left and a gatehouse directly in front of her. The gatehouse was nearly as big as the keep, a truly gigantic structure built into equally gigantic walls, but now that it was daylight, she could see much more detail to the interior walls.
Everything was built against them, from stables to smithy shacks to barracks. The first thing that caught her eye was a large structure on the north side of the bailey, just to the north of the gatehouse. It was in the shape of a half-circle; literally, as if someone had cut a circle in half, and long lancet windows were built into the rounded edge of it. She could also see that there was precious glass in the windows, one in the shape of a cross, suggesting that it was the chapel of Haldane. Josephine thought it rather odd to find such a prominent chapel in so horrible a place.
She moved on. Opposite the chapel and on the south side of the bailey was a long, thatched-roof structure near the stables that had men coming in and out of it, and she assumed that was the barracks. There was also a second building, smaller, that had heavy smoke pumping from the chimney. Men were going into that structure, too. As she stood there and watched it all quite curiously, Chauncey suddenly appeared beside her.
“Where are you going, my lady?” he asked, mumbling like he had rocks in his mouth. “You should return to the keep.”
Josephine was startled by his appearance but quickly regained her composure. “I simply wanted to look around,” she said. “Do not worry; I am not attempting to escape. I am simply curious about the castle. Chauncey, what is that building over there?”
She was pointing to the long, thatched-roof structure. “Those are the barracks, my lady,” Chauncey said. “My lady, we should go back.”
Josephine could hear anxiety in his tone, but she ignored it. “Then what is the building next to it? The one with the smoking chimney?”
“That is where the soldiers eat, my lady. Lord Alphonse does not like the soldiers in his hall.”
She turned to look at him. “He doesn’t?” she said. “Why not?”
“He says they are not fit for his table and should eat with the animals,” he said. “Please, my lady. We should return.”
Josephine didn’t want to. “There is no harm in getting some fresh air,” she said. Then, she asked the most important question, the one she’d been lingering on since she awoke. “Where are the dungeons?”
It was a casual question, much as she’d asked about the other features of the castle, so Chauncey had no idea she was asking for a reason. “In the gatehouse,” he said, pointing to the enormous building that towered over the walls. “Do you see where that soldier just emerged? That is where they are. My lady, if Lord Alphonse sees you out here, he will become angry. You must go back.”
Josephine had, indeed, seen the soldier emerge from a doorway that faced the courtyard. It was built into the south side of the gatehouse and didn’t look like anything special, other than a doorway, but now she knew it for what it was.
It was the gateway to locating Andrew’s mother.
Insatiable curiosity had her leaning in that direction, but she didn’t want to do it with Chauncey hanging by her. She turned to the man.
“I really must stretch my legs,” she said evenly. “We have been riding for two days and my legs are fairly aching. I will simply walk the bailey and come back in. Tell me, Chauncey. Is the gatehouse always open like that?”
She was pointing to the gatehouse and the raised portcullis. Farmers were passing in and out, doing business with the kitchens at this time of day. Chauncey nervously looked in that direction.
“Aye, my lady,” he said. “No one would dare make war against Lord Alphonse’s castle. But I do not think you should go outside of the walls.”
She looked at him, seeing that the poor man was truly terrified. She forced a smile. “I do not plan on it,” she said. “I was simply curious. Go back inside and I shall finish my walk and come in. Do not worry; I will not run off. I told you that.”
Chauncey wasn’t quite so convinced. He stood there, wringing his hands, as Josephine walked away. She didn’t seem to want to listen to him but, for certain, she would listen to Lord Alphonse. The man wasn’t awake yet, but Chauncey thought to check on that situation and see if his lord had risen. If he had, then perhaps he would tell Lord Alphonse about the headstrong young woman he’d brought to Haldane so the lord himself could tell her not to wander about. It simply wasn’t safe. It simply wasn’t done. With a lingering glance at the bold young woman, Chauncey headed back for the keep.
Oblivious to the fact that Alphonse’s steward was apparently running off to tattle on her, Josephine headed for the gatehouse. She was simply going to take a look around to see if she saw anything… like a woman being held captive. She truly didn’t have any plans on trying to release the woman, at least not without a plan. But as she moved to the gatehouse, she could see how very vacant it seemed to be at this hour. Smelling the smoke from the hall where the soldiers ate, she was coming to suspect why.
They were all eating their morning meal.
God’s Bones! Perhaps there would never be a better time to release Andrew’s mother if, in fact, she was truly in that dungeon as Alphonse had said. Would they even miss her? Was she closely watched? At the moment, it didn’t seem like anyone was about, so Josephine thought that this might be the perfect time to see for herself what had really become of Andrew’s mother. As she neared the door that Chauncey had indicated, she disappeared into the archway, unnoticed by anyone.
Immediately, she was overcome by the smell of mold and rot. It smelled like a thousand dead bodies were all moldering right under her nostrils. In fact, she pinched her nose shut as she began to take the stairs down into the dark, dank depths. Josephine had to watch her step and be careful that she did not slip on the algae-strewn stairs. With each step, her anxiety increased; she knew she shouldn’t be here. But she couldn’t help herself. She could hear nothing as she descended into the depths save the pounding in her ears.
Her sturdy boots were dull against the stone as she reached the landing below. A torch flickered down here, wedged into an iron sconce and sending black smoke against the low ceiling. As Josephine’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see there were two cells on this level, barred cages that were full of wet straw. There was no one in them. But immediately to her right was a door of rotting oak, held together by strips of iron, and a broken iron handle.
A door, she thought. It could open up to more stairs or it could actually be another cell. Nervously, Josephine fumbled with the bolt, and pushed as hard as she could until it finally gave and jerked from its hole. Timidly, she pushed firmly on the door until it gave way and yawned open into the dark abyss beyond.
Josephine saw nothing in the black. Hastily, she grabbed the fatted torch from its iron sconce and thrust it into the darkness. A room came into view, but not just any room; there was a neatly made cot, a table and chair, and fresh straw on the floor that led her to believe someone was inside.
“Is anyone here?” she called softly. “Can anyone hear me?”
There was no answer. Holding the torch lower, she could see a bucket in the corner for a privy, and a stool with neatly stacked blankets against the wall. Taking a hesitant step into the chamber, she was startled when, off to her right, she saw a flint spark twice before it lit a fish-oil lamp. As she looked over, a woman’s face suddenly came into the light.
“Put out the torch; it hurts,” the woman said feebly.
Shocked, Josephine instantly complied. Her eyes strained against the barely-visible flame from the lamp as she tried to get a better look at the woman.
“My lady?” she said in disbelief. “Are you… may I ask who you are?”
The woman tried to look more closely at her, but her eyesight was so bad in the weak lig
ht that it made it very difficult.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Josephine took a few steps closer and peered into the woman’s eyes as her own eyes adjusted to the darkness. It took her a moment to realize that she was looking into Andrew’s eyes, and the awareness made her breath catch in her throat.
My God… could it be?
“My name is Lady Josephine de Carron,” she said after a moment.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”
What did she want? God’s Bones, she wanted to help the woman! She wanted to take her out of this hellish existence and take her someplace safe until Andrew could arrive. Tears sprang to Josephine’s eyes as she thought of the joy on Andrew’s face when he realized his mother was alive. This was such an important moment, and one not lost on Josephine. She was so overwhelmed that she was starting to tremble.
“I came to find you,” she said simply. “Alphonse said you were alive but I did not believe it until this very moment.”
The woman was still suspicious. “What do you want of me?”
Josephine shook her head. “I want nothing, I swear it,” she said. “May I have your name, please? I do not even know it.”
The woman hesitated quite some time before speaking. “I am Elaine.”
Elaine. Such a beautiful name. Josephine smiled at her, hoping to alleviate some of the woman’s suspicion. “As I said, my name is Josephine de Carron. I am not sure where to start with all of this, but your son, Andrew, told me…”
That drew a strong reaction from Elaine and her voice cracked. “Andrew?” she gasped, interrupting her. “You know my Andrew?”
“I do, my lady.”
“He is alive?”
“He is, indeed.”
Elaine stared at her for a moment longer, utter and complete shock in her eyes, before the threat of tears became very real. As Josephine watched, tears began to trickle from the woman’s old, tired eyes.
“Alive,” Elaine breathed. “My prayers have been answered, then. My Andrew survived.”