Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (52 page)

Upon returning to the castle, Keir had asked Chloë
to go through his dead wife’s belongings to see if there was anything she
wished to have. The rest would be stored or discarded. Although there was still
sorrow at Madeleine’s passing, for both Keir and Chloë, they were both ready to
move forward with their new life together and part of that was removing
Madeleine’s possessions from the master bower and packing them away. It was the
signal of a new beginning, especially for Keir.  He was happier than he had
ever been.   He knew Madeleine would have approved.

For the past two weeks, the situation had been calm
and wonderful. Ingilby was no longer a threat, Cassandra and Kurtis had
returned to Northumberland, and Sir Garran, although still very weak and
recovering, had given permission for Michael and Summer to marry. They did, in
an intimate little ceremony at Aysgarth, before returning to Pendragon with Chloë
and Keir.

Chloë had dutifully asked her parents to accompany
them as well, but Blanche and Anton opted to remain at Aysgarth with the very
new and very timid Lady de Tiegh. Perhaps they thought the young woman needed
their guidance as she assumed the Aysgarth barony, or perhaps they didn’t feel
comfortable living in their daughter’s new home after all of the grief Anton
had caused Keir and Chloë. Whatever the case, they had remained behind, along
with Garran because he could not travel.  Although Michael and Summer were
currently at Pendragon, they would soon be returning to Aysgarth where Michael
would take charge of her armies.

Chloë was glad that Summer and Michael had come with
them to Pendragon.  She missed her Cassandra dreadfully and Summer was a lovely
substitute. The pair had accompanied Keir and Chloë back to their new home
mostly because Summer insisted on helping the newlyweds settle in, but they all
knew it truly wasn’t necessary.  Summer and Chloë had formed a bond and the
women simply wanted to be together.  Keir and Michael didn’t complain; like old
times, they were together, traveling, living, laughing and loving. Life was
good once more.

Therefore, on this rather mild spring day in the
early evening, everyone at Pendragon had something to do. As Keir and Michael
completed tasks down in the bailey with little Aust, Summer and Chloë worked in
the keep. Chloë treated the packing of Madeleine’s belonging with great care
and compassion, carefully going through the items one at a time, and making
note of each.  There were several chests to go through and a giant wardrobe,
and most of the garments still had a faint musty scent of smoke.

At one point in that late afternoon, Summer came
across a chest that contained nothing but baby clothes, so Chloë and Summer sat
on the floor and pulled out every little piece, admiring them as well as
inspecting them for durability. After all, someday they hoped to have their own
children and Chloë was sure that Madeleine would not have minded if they used
the clothing.  Everything had been carefully and lovingly stitched. 

“There is certainly a good deal of clothing,” Summer
commented as she folded a neat little pile of tunics. “There is enough here for
several children all at the same time.”

Chloë giggled. “Keir mentioned that it took a long
time for Madeleine to become pregnant with Frances,” she said.  “Perhaps she
passed the time by sewing infant clothing and hoping for a child to put them
on.”

“She must have sewed for years.”

“At the very least.”

Summer smiled as she held up a dressing gown that
was exquisitely embroidered. “But the results are beautiful,” she said,
lowering the gown to fold it. She sobered as she worked. “Michael told me what
happened to Madeleine and Frances. What a horrible thing.”

Chloë’s smile faded. “Horrible indeed,” she agreed
softly. “Keir has been through much tragedy in his life. It is a memory I hope
to erase.”

“Did it happen in this room?”

“Nay,” Chloë said softly. “The room across the hall.
That is where the children slept.”

Summer nodded sadly, putting the neatly folded gown
into another pile. As she did so, she caught something out of the corner of her
eye and glanced up. Chloë began to say something to her when she noticed that
Summer was staring off into the corner of the room, looking rather strange.
Reflexively, Chloë turned in the same direction.

A little girl stood in the shadows of the room. It
was difficult to see her for the most part, but the portion of her body that
was out of the shadow and into the weak sunlight was non-existent, while the
other portion in the shadow was pale and shady, like a fog with some
definition. Her facial features were clear, the jaw strong and square, the dark
circled eyes.  She just stood there, staring.

Shocked, Chloë’s breathing began to quicken,
realizing she was looking at the little lost ghost girl once again. She hadn’t
seen her in so long she’d forgotten about her, but here she was, once again. More
than that, Chloë realized that she was appearing in a different room, not the
children’s room across the hall as she had before. Perhaps speaking of her had
brought caused her to appear; whatever the case, Chloë wasn’t fearful in the
least. She very much wanted to help the child find peace. The fact that she
remained where she had died spoke volumes of a restless death.

As Summer shifted beside her, perhaps to run away, Chloë
put her hand on the woman’s arm and held her fast.

“Frances?” Chloë said softly. “Sweetheart, is it
you? Please do not be afraid. We will not hurt you.”

The ghostly little girl faded somewhat before
returning, with more definition than before. She seemed to move, undulating, a
few inches towards them.  Now she was completely in the shadows of the dim room
and difficult to make out.

“Me-Me,” she said.

The voice was odd, raspy, with an almost echo-type
of quality. It was startling and eerie. Next to Chloë, Summer gasped, but Chloë
squeezed her arm tightly to quiet her.

“Do you want Me-Me, sweetheart?” Chloë asked softly.
“I do not know where he is. Can... can you help me find him?”

The little girl didn’t move for a moment, nor did
she speak. She simply stood there, fading in and out, eventually becoming more
of a mist than a discernible figure.  Chloë could sense that she was leaving
them and she let go of Summer, rising to her knees as she moved towards the
phantom child.

“Please, Frances,” she murmured. “If you know where
Me-Me is, please help me find him. Can you tell me?”

The little girl remained in the shadows, the mist
rising and falling. It was like watching a figure underwater, the lines of her
body distorted.  She started to move towards the massive wardrobe.

“Me-Me,” she said again.

Chloë was on her knees, following the phantom.
“Frances, please tell me where he is. I want to help find Me-Me.”

By this time, the ghostly girl was near the wardrobe,
the massive thing that had contained all of Madeleine’s possession, untouched
since that horrible day. The phantom paused as she came upon it, her black eyes
intense.  Chloë wasn’t sure if she was focusing on her, or even if she was
actually looking at her. Then, the gray mist stopped undulating.  It seemed to
become very clear as it stood in front of the wardrobe. As Chloë and Summer
watched, spell-bound, the small figure disappeared into the wardrobe doors.

“With thee,” her spookly little voice faded off, “I
now sleep….”

The room was very still and silent as Chloë and
Summer continued to stare at the wardrobe, stunned by what they had just
witnessed. Chloë didn’t even look at Summer; she was still fixated on the
wardrobe. Shooting to her feet, she raced to the heavy oak furniture, well made
and of excellent quality, and threw open the doors.

She gasped as she was hit by the smell of Frances,
the same scent she had smelled before when the spirit of the child had passed
through her in those weeks past. It was sweet and earthy. Seized with the
desire to seek what the phantom girl was trying so hard to communicate, she
began tossing out the stacks of clothing she and Summer had already gone
through. Shifts and fine silks ended up on a pile on the floor as Chloë madly
ripped them clear of the wardrobe. She had no idea why she was doing it, only
that something was telling her to. She was nearly frantic with the knowledge.
There had to be a reason why Frances’ little spirit was wandering around,
looking for her Me-Me. Perhaps there was a clue here, something they’d missed
as they....

The last garment she ripped out of the wardrobe was
snagged on the bottom panel of the cabinet.  When Chloë yanked hard, part of
the panel pulled up. Untangling the snag, Chloë tossed the garment on the
ground and pulled up on the floor panel of the wardrobe. As the plank came up,
she saw that there was a hidden compartment in the base of the wardrobe. It
wasn’t very big, perhaps the length and width of the wardrobe and about a foot
and a half deep.

As the panel came free and she could see the entire
compartment, she suddenly let out a shriek and her hands flew to her mouth. Shock
and grief hit her like a smack to the face and she burst into tears, no doubt
in her mind what she was seeing. She was horrified, unable to look away, as a
sad and heartbreaking vision lay before her.

Lying inside the compartment was the decomposed body
of a small child.

***

Michael was very close to sending word to Kurtis to
return to Pendragon but he fought the urge, waiting and watching as the tragedy
played itself out.  The situation was heartbreaking.

Kneeling beside the massive wardrobe, he alternated
between inspecting the decomposed corpse of Merritt St. Hèver and watching Keir
deal with his grief. Wrapped up in Chloë’s arms with his head buried in against
her pale bosom, he seemed to be doing a remarkable job of holding himself
together. Certainly, Keir’s initial response had been one of pain and dismay.
But once those emotions blew through him in the initial explosion, he seemed to
grow oddly calm, as if finally, he had the answer he had been seeking all of
these years. At least now he knew. As a father, he was comforted by that. But
also as a father, the death of his son had him deeply grieving.

“Madeleine must have hidden him here,” Michael was
trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together because Keir didn’t seem
capable of deductive reasoning at the moment. “’Tis the only answer that makes
sense. When Lord Stain breached Pendragon, she must have known it was only a
matter of time before the keep was compromised, so she tried to hide the
children.  Merritt fit well in the heavy wardrobe in this secret compartment, but
there wasn’t enough room for Frances. Madeleine and Frances were then forced to
take their chances and perished before they could release Merritt from his
hiding place.”

Keir sat with Chloë in his lap, his head against her
chest as she wrapped her arms fiercely around him. He should have been
hysterical with sorrow, but instead, he was strangely calm. It was as if he
wasn’t quite sure what to feel. His left cheek was against the swell of Chloë’s
chest as he spoke.

“There is no knowing the how or why of it,” he
murmured. “It took us over a week to return to Pendragon once we were informed
of Lord Stain’s siege, and when we arrived, Madeleine and Frances had not been
dead that long.  I do not understand how we could not have heard Merritt’s
cries. Surely he was still alive when we arrived. Why did we not hear him?”

“Because it is possible he was already dead,” Summer
spoke softly from her position a few feet away from the bed where Keir and Chloë
sat. “The compartment he is in is very tight and sturdy. He was packed very
tightly into it. It’s possible he was too weak to cry out for help once you
arrived and simply passed away from suffocation or hunger. It is difficult to
know.  I am sure he simply went to sleep and never woke up.”

She meant to comfort Keir with those last words.  Chloë
gazed up at her friend with big, sad eyes reflecting her appreciation, as Keir
kept his gaze on the open wardrobe.

“Perhaps,” he said softly. “But I do not understand
why… a body that is rotting will give a strong scent. I never smelled anything.”

“He is sealed up very tightly,” Michael said.
“Moreover, Madeleine must have piled all of her possessions on top of the
compartment to further hide the boy, and then sealed the doors up.  After we
buried Madeleine and Frances, you never used this room or the childrens’ room
until Chloë and Cassandra came.  These rooms have been virtually sealed up for
three years, Keir.”

“But I searched for Merritt up here,” Keir insisted,
some passion returning to his tone. “I searched what I thought was every inch
of this room. I even looked in the wardrobe.”

“But you never looked in the hidden compartment.”

Keir sighed heavily, at a loss. “I had forgotten
about it,” he admitted. “My thoughts were so frantic and scattered during that
time… it simply never occurred to me, and by the way the compartment is built
into the wardrobe, it is well hidden unless you know what you are looking for.
It simply… never occurred to me….”

“It is possible that the scent of decomposition had
not yet grown strong enough to be detected when you were searching for him in
these rooms,” Summer said quietly, trying to ease the man’s guilty conscience.
“Once you shut the room off and never returned, it would not have been strong
enough to penetrate the stone and fill entire keep. Eventually, is simply faded
away.”