Ginny Hartman (15 page)

“The servants will be here shortly with your dinner.”

“Thank you. What are you sewing?” Rosalind asked as Millicent picked up the soft, yellow linen she was stitching.

Holding it up, Millicent said, “It's a dress. For you. I thought you might want to wear something that fit you better than Gwendolyn's gowns.” Rosalind was touched by her kindness. “It's nowhere near the quality you are accustomed to, but it will certainly be more comfortable for you. Now, tell us something about yourself. You may be here for some time, and we'd be honored to get to know you better.”

“Well,” she thought for a moment, “I don't do much sewing or embroidery, so I'm truly grateful for your skill in that department. If I were left to my own devices, I would end up going naked. I never did enjoy embroidery, much to my mother's chagrin. I always managed to spend more time pricking my fingers then the fabric.”

Millicent laughed. “I can understand that, Gwendolyn has such a reputation with a needle that we have expressly forbidden her from coming near one.” Rosalind looked at Gwendolyn, but instead of appearing embarrassed, she smiled brightly, as if she was proud of her lack of talent. “So, we know something you do not enjoy doing; now tell us something you do.”

“I like to be outside. I like to run in the fields or pick herbs in the garden. Terric told me that you are a healer, which fascinates me incredibly.”

“Yes, I've been doing it as long as I can remember. I've been training Gwendolyn in the art of healing as well.” Rosalind felt a pang of jealousy. Her own mother had always tried to prohibit her desire to learn of nature. How would it have been to have a mother that not only understood her interests but shared them as well?

“Mayhap you can teach me some things too?” she blurted, surprising even herself when she voiced the suggestion.

“Of course, I would be honored.”

Rosalind smiled. For the first time she was excited at the prospect of being here. If she focused on the things Millicent would teach her, mayhap she could block out the tragedy of her parents’ loss and forget about the loneliness that Terric's absence had caused.

Chapter 15

Confessions

Terric's mood was unusually dark when he finally reached Peltis. He had never been overly impressed with the black fortress of Malton Castle; it was much too dark and foreboding. The lack of sleep was getting to him, as well as having to leave Rosalind behind. He hated leaving without even a goodbye, but he knew he couldn't give her what she wanted.  

Just before entering the castle's gate, he had stopped to replace the drab, brown tunic Aeden had brought him with his own black tunic. He would need it to pass by the guards, for it clearly signaled his place as King Cedric's lead defender. He felt relieved to have the familiar tunic back on. It had become so much a part of him he had felt odd without it.

The guards of Malton Castle were as unfriendly as the Kingdom itself. They nodded stiffly at him as he passed on his way to the keep, their eyes flicking to the slash of red fabric at his shoulder, before once more staring straight ahead, as if they had hardly noticed him at all. It was all very well to him, for he was in no mood to socialize anyway.

Several servants scurried past him, their curious gazes intent as he entered the keep, though not a one of them stopped to inquire as to his needs. He finally stepped forth and stopped a young lad. “Please direct me to King Cedric.”

The boy nodded. “Wait here,” he said, as his eyes flashed to Terric's shoulder. “I will see to his whereabouts.”

Terric nodded his head and stood, taking in his surroundings. The walls were draped in dark tapestries, adding to the already somber feel of the keep. He wondered briefly why they didn't decorate with brighter colors to cheer the place up a bit before deciding he must really not feel like himself if he was critiquing the castle's decor. Agitatedly, he reached up and combed the wayward locks of dark hair from his forehead. The first thing he planned on doing, once he spoke to King Cedric, was taking a long bath to clean the journey's grime from his person. The second thing he was going to do was sleep.

“Terric,” King Cedric's voice interrupted his planning. Turning, he saw the king walking towards him, with King Hadrian, the king of Peltis at his side. “I can't tell you how good it is to see you.”

“Likewise,” Terric answered honestly. He was even more relieved than he had anticipated being at the sight of King Cedric alive.

“Welcome to the Kingdom of Peltis,” King Hadrian offered solemnly.

“Thank you. Your protection is greatly appreciated.” Terric said sincerely. Then turning back to King Cedric he asked, “Can we speak somewhere in private?”

King Cedric turned questioning eyes on King Hadrian. “Aye,” he said, “I will excuse myself to allow you some privacy.”

Both men were silent until King Hadrian had left. Terric was the first to speak, turning to King Cedric he said, “I refuse to say anything until we are behind closed doors. You never know who is listening.”

“Wise counsel. Follow me to my chambers.” Terric nodded and followed him to the second floor of the castle and down a long, dreary corridor. The King's chambers were dark just like the rest of the castle. The only light in the room came from the glowing embers in the fire. As soon as the door was shut, Terric took the extra precaution of barring the door.

Turning back to King Cedric he said, “Rosalind is safe. She is at my childhood home with my mother and sister. They have promised to keep her protected and safe until she can return to Herfordshire Castle.”

The king exhaled a relieved breath, “To simply tell you thank you sounds trite. You have gone above and beyond your duty in helping with her.”

Terric shrugged, “My duty is to you. If helping her is what you needed, then so be it.”

The King's eyes narrowed into slits, “Did you have to tell her about her parents?”

Terric nodded, “Aye. She did not take the news well.”

King Cedric began pacing, his hands wringing the entire time. “I suppose she didn't. Colin is not taking the news well either. That, combined with the attack on him right before we left for Peltis, has left him truly upset. I have assigned a defender to remain at his side day and night, and he does not seem to appreciate the supervision, though I only do it to keep him safe. He has become withdrawn and sullen, completely contrary to his usual carefree nature.”

“A wee lad never likes to feel suppressed, though it must be done for his safety.”

The king nodded in agreement but otherwise remained silent. Just when Terric was about to ask to be excused, he spoke. “Aeden brought word back from Darth after he delivered his message to you.”

“And what did he have to say?”

“People are already beginning to talk. They are curiously speculating why the entire royal family has left Herfordshire Castle.”

“Tis not such a rare event,” Terric said defensively. “Tis not the first time they have been absent from their territory. Tis absurd that anyone would start worrying so soon.”

“Servants talk; word gets around. I've been thinking that the southwestern territory must be protected immediately.”

“I agree.”

“So I've sent for Asher to come to Peltis. He should arrive any day.”

“Asher, the lead trajector?” Terric asked, confused.

“Yes. I think we need to let the Kingdom know the truth. They will never trust me if I keep this from them.”

“You are keeping it from them for their own safety,” Terric growled, unsure if it was a wise idea to announce the deaths of King Eustace and Queen Constance before he'd had the chance to avenge their deaths. His thoughts instantly went to Rosalind and how the news being broadcast throughout the entire Kingdom of Darth would affect her. She was still trying to process and grieve the loss as it was.

“I have decided that they should know. Asher is already on his way, so there is nothing we can do about that. I will give him an account to deliver to the other trajectors to spread throughout the kingdom. I will not have fear and speculation engulfing my people when I can easily thwart that.”

“The speculation you can thwart, but the announcement will only increase their fear. I do not think it wise to tell them what has happened until we can reassure them that we have caught whoever is responsible and punished them accordingly.”

The king's shoulders slumped, his face falling dejectedly. “Aye, you are right. It seems I cannot think properly since that awful night.” He walked over to his bed and sat on the mattress, his eyes refusing to meet Terric's. Terric had never seen him so unsure. He was used to the king commanding with ease. The broken man before him was a stranger.

Terric walked over and stood before him, placing one hand on his shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort. “The damage hasn't been done; there is no need to punish yourself.”

The king looked up at him hopefully, “Aye, you are right once more. Asher is already on his way, but I will refuse to send the announcement with him once he comes. In hindsight I wish I hadn't been so brash in sending for him, but I guess I panicked. I'm grateful that you are finally back to see things clearly, since apparently I cannot. I do not know what I would do without you.”

“Thank you,” Terric replied humbly. “Now if I may be so bold, I suggest I get some sleep or I will no longer be of value to you or to anyone else.”

King Cedric rose from the bed. He walked over to the far side of the room and indicated a door partially hidden in the wall that led into a smaller chamber designed for the king's personal defender. “I will send the servants up with a bath and some supper. I trust that I will not see you until the morning.”

“Thank you,” Terric said before slipping into the room.

It didn't take long for the servants to arrive with a wooden tub, buckets of water, and a plate of super.  Terric graciously allowed them into his room and waited while they filled the tub. As soon as they had left, he sat and inhaled the food, not paying much attention to what it was he was consuming. He was anxious to soak his weary body in the tub before the water turned cold.

After a quick and thorough cleaning of his person, he laid his head back and tried to relax, but his mind instantly went to Rosalind. He thought of the way she looked at him with her luminous violet eyes, and he berated himself once more for not being able to promise her what she wanted. Feeling restless, he stood and grabbed a linen sheet and furiously rubbed the droplets of water from his body, patting his dripping hair off last, before wrapping the sheet around his waist. He felt an inexpressible desire to tell Rosalind how he felt, to let her know that he did care for her, that he wasn't heartless when he had chosen to ride off instead of giving her a proper goodbye.

Eying a small desk, he sat down and anxiously began pulling open the drawers, hoping to find a writing utensil and some parchment. He was in luck, he thought, as he pulled a few loose papers from the drawer along with a quill and dipping ink. A wet lock of hair fell across his forehead as he began to write:

My sweet Rosalind,

Forgive my lack of skill in writing; I am by no means an expert. My heart yearns to speak with you and to convey the feelings I hold deeply in my heart. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and to promise you the world, but I cannot, so I must satisfy myself with merely words on parchment.

Knowing you may never see this prompts me to be more bold in my admissions; I will start with the beginning. I can never forget the first day I laid eyes on you. Stephen nearly ran over you as you lay in the meadow. The first thing I noticed about you was your hair, the splendid waves surrounded you in all their glory, and I wanted nothing more than to touch the silky locks. When I soon had the chance to behold your face, I knew I had never seen a lovelier sight. I wondered what sort of angel had fallen from heaven that day, and what sort of noble act I had performed to qualify me to behold such a vision.

Looking back on that day, I see how you had already captured my heart, even then. Tis true that your beauty exceeds that of any earthly creature, but your heart is beautiful as well, and tis my own heart that yearns to be with you once more. Dare I hope that you feel the same?

Terric replaced the quill in the ink pot and sat back in the chair, crossing his arms across his naked chest as he thought. There was so much more he longed to say, but his hand was aching and his eyes were beginning to droop. Alas, it would have to wait till the morrow, he thought, as he rose from the chair and discarded the linen sheet on the floor before crawling into bed and quickly falling to sleep.

Chapter 16

Horehound Tonic

Rosalind had lost track of how many days had passed since she had come to Emerson Castle. She had grown so comfortable with Millicent and Gwendolyn that she oftentimes felt guilty for feeling contentment when she knew she should still feel intense sorrow. Cloistered away in a castle she wasn't familiar with, with people who only a short time ago had been strangers, made it easy for her to forget about the tragedy she had only so recently endured. In the rare moments of quiet she had, she sometimes allowed herself to ponder her loss, but the ache that would fill her breast was too much to bear so she would tamper it down until she felt it no more.

Gwendolyn proved to be a most excellent distraction. The girl was vivacious and talkative and had quickly become a dear friend. Rosalind shared many interests with the girl, and had even encouraged her to share her healing knowledge, which she readily obliged. The garden at Emerson Castle was meticulously manicured and expertly kept. The symmetrical design was pleasing to the eye. There were four squares made up of four separate triangular parterres, each one partitioned off by box hedges with a smallish bay tree in the center. Each parterre held various herbs for the use in tonics and poultices, each mirroring the plot directly opposite it.

One of the first things that Gwendolyn had taught Rosalind was the properties of thyme in helping to dispel melancholy. She had insisted that a small pillow be made stuffed with thyme for Rosalind to sleep on to aide her with her sadness. Rosalind fully believed that it was working. Today Gwendolyn was showing her how to make a tonic with horehound that could be used in healing a variety of illnesses in the chest.