Warrior's Moon A Love Story (31 page)

Surprisingly, this was just the tact that Chantaya needed at this moment and she looked up into her mother’s eyes and replied, “Maybe ‘twasn’t you at all who brought me here, Mother.  Brought us both here.  Maybe ‘twas God himself who brought us here.”

Isabella eyed her for a moment, reached out to gently touch the swollen spot on Chantaya’s cheek and mouth and then collapsed into tears again with a shake of her head.  “No.  No, God would never work that way.  He wouldn’t put you in harm’s way for his purposes.  I don’t believe that.”

Chantaya hugged her and rubbed her back as she said, “Don’t you suppose, Mum that at some point, before we came to this life, we agreed to the trials we would face here?  God knew what would happen to us.  He knows all.  I’ll bet we agreed with our earthly fates before we ever came down here.  But God hasn’t put us in harm’s way.  Rosskeene did that.  And I’m fine, Mum.  A bit sore, but, still mainly intact. ‘Tis God who has kept us safe, in spite of what Rosskeene intended.  And ‘tis God who is using us to help King Dougal.  It is.  I know that it is.  If you think about it, you know it as well.” 

Isabella only hugged her tighter and sniffled and Chantaya asked quietly, “Do you feel it as well, Mum?”

Her mother stilled for a moment, but then said, “I’ll admit that I feel it, daughter.  ‘Twas even a feeling that sent me into the kitchen tonight to see about you, but I can’t do it anymore.  Whether God wills it or not, I can’t stand by and watch what happened tonight.  I can’t.  Some may be able to sacrifice their child for the greater good.  But not I.  No more.  We’re leaving.  In fact, we haven’t a choice anymore.  After what I said to him tonight, probably both of us will be in debtor’s prison within a day’s time.  He has a furious temper.  I know that from before.  He’d never take what I said without making us pay.”

Leaning back for a moment, Chantaya gave a small smile through the tears that still refused to abate, and said, “Where’s your faith, Mother? ‘Tis a plan the good Lord has.  And yes, you can keep to the faith. ‘Tis well enough I know it.  After all, you’re the one who taught me.  Together, we can do whatever He will ask.  And He will ask.  Whatever is afoot here just now is huge.  Rosskeene truly thinks he will be king within the week.  We have to stay long enough to find what he’s planning.  Just that long.”  She gave her mother another small smile.  “Then we’ll go to debtor’s prison together.” 

Her mother closed her eyes.  Tears seeped out and down her cheeks and the proud and angry woman who had spoken so surely to Lord Rosskeene only moments earlier was completely gone.  Sighing silently, Chantaya turned aside to find more hair pins and take out another dress. 

Before she had even gotten the dress out, there cam
e an angry knock at the door. Chantaya took a deep breath, pulled the torn dress back up over herself and squared her shoulders to open it.  There was little doubt who stood on the other side from the demanding sound of that knock.  When she opened it, she was surprised to see that not only was it Lord Rosskeene, but also Conrad and his three helpers and Cook herself stood there. 

Before Chantaya could say anything, Isabella moved her aside, stepped out and asked Rossk
eene brusquely, “What do you want?”  Quietly, Conrad moved to come and stand near Isabella, casually leaning on a pitchfork he’d picked up on the way out, facing the nobleman. 

Surprisingly, the other three young men came just as casually to side him, all of them carrying an implement as well, and Cook, on the other side said in a peace loving tone, “Now remember, m’lord.  Remember the quality of your supper since Isabella’s been here.  Not a one of us truly wants her to be leaving us.  We don’t.  Don’t let your temper rule your belly.  Forget all this rumpus and let’s go see to the boy.  Master Damian needs his father.  And you have your business dealings to see to.  No sense in bothering with this nonsense.”

Isabella’s pretty brow wrinkled in confusion as she looked about, wondering why all the others had come as well and Conrad gave her a calming, encouraging glance before turning back to Rosskeene.  Lord Rosskeene himself glanced around in concern at the others before turning to Isabella and looking her up and down. 

At his look, she stiffened and said almost as if she was the noble and he the servant, “Well?”

At that moment, another man, one of those of evil ilk who was involved in whatever it was that Rosskeene was planning walked into the stable and sauntered up.  Slowly, as Rosskeene’s evil face watched Isabella, the seething anger seemed to dissipate, to be replaced by impatience.  He pulled his pocket watch to look at it and then growled at Isabella and Chantaya.  “I haven’t the time to waste with this foolishness.  Pull yourselves together and get the supper made.  I’ve company waiting.”

Isabella shook her head and said staunchly, “No, Rosskeene.  My daughter isn’t going near your kitchen again. 
Not so long as your son resides there, thinking she is his crumpet for the taking.  We’ll go to prison.”

His eyes narrowed and he threatened, “You’ll do as I say, woman.  How dare you challenge my authority?  I’ll see to my son.”  Isabella only shook her head and he added, “I give you my word.”

Again Isabella shook her head and said scathingly, “Your word.  Your word is nothing!”

The anger flared again in his eyes, but then, surprisingly, he chuckled, glanced at Conrad and the others and turned his back.  As he walked away, he said, “I always enjoyed that bit of fire you have to you, Isabella.  Today, I’ve got more pressing issues than your ridiculous concerns.  Damian may not even live.  Bring Conrad to the kitchen with you for assurance.  I’ve things to see to.” 

As he walked through the stable, the pigeons in the rafters warbled softly and he paused and looked up.  The wooden crate sat among the other birds resting there.  For a moment, he looked puzzled, and then thoughtful.  He turned back around, glanced at the man with him and then back at the birds.  Then, he studied each Conrad, Isabella, Chantaya and the young men in turn, looking more thoughtful with each one.  Finally, still creasing his forehead in question, he silently turned with his associate and went out of the stable.  

The servants stood looking at one another in open amazement and at length, Cook said, “Well.  All righty then.  Who’d have ever believed the master would just walk away like that?”

Conrad only shook his head, mumbling under his breath in disgust as he looked at both Isabella and Chantaya in pity and then herded his helpers away from where Chantaya’s dress still exposed parts of her shoulder and bosom.

Cook made a comforting sound, then gently smoothed the dress again and pressed the two to step back into their room and said, “I wish I could stay here and help you, but I’d better get ‘is supper while the sun still shines wi’ ‘im, I say.  Stay here together and take comfort in each other.  Chantaya, should I send the physician out here when ‘e’s
done wi’ the young master?  How . . .  How badly did he hurt you?  Did ‘e?  Did ‘e?  Uhm . . .  ”

Chantaya shook her head and interrupted as her tears welled over again.  “No.  He didn’t.  He had just come in when Mum arrived.  I’ll be fine.  No physician.  Just let us know how badly injured Damian is, please.”

Nodding, Cook said, “And some tea.  I’ll send Conrad wi’ some tea.  Take care now.”  Still making the sound of pity with her lips, Cook bustled out.  Isabella shut the door with a huge sigh and turned to Chantaya again.  The two of them looked at each other and then almost in unison, turned to go rummage for clean clothing for Chantaya.  That was the first thing they both wanted to do.  Get rid of the glaring evidence of just what Damian had intended to do to her.

Damian didn’t come to for most of a day, but then the next afternoon, he awoke and became positively whiny about how his head hurt and his belly ached.  Chantaya wasn’t at all sure why his belly would hurt, but she was inexplicably relieved that he hadn’t been killed by her mother, much as he deserved it.  By late that night, Even Lord Rosskeene had resorted to a stiff restorative belt of brandy to deal with his offspring.   

For some reason, Damian woke with a craving for his favorite dish and though Cook offered to try and make it if Chantaya would give her instructions, Chantaya used it as an excuse to get back into the kitchen and try to get things back to normal.  She knew it indeed wouldn’t take much to get her mother to pack up and leave and take debtor’s prison over Rosskeene Manor, but Chantaya felt an urgency to try and find out just what Rosskeene and the others were up to. 

The next morning, after breakfast, Cook sent Chantaya in search of the dishes and utensils the physician and the family had used the night before in trying to make Master Damian more comfortable.  Damian was finally sleeping soundly from somethin
g Isabella had recommended for him and Lord Rosskeene was out of the house for the moment, so Chantaya felt relatively safe in her quest for the soiled dishes.

She went through the bed chambers and the parlor and was finally in the master’s study and had collected a dishpan full of glassware and cutlery.  As she reached for the last brandy glass on the master’s desk, she was puzzled by a map that lay there.  It had an obvious X placed upon it and Chantaya rested her dishpan on her hip as she leaned over to study it.  She didn’t know much about maps, but she could detect areas that appeared to be city, farmlands, wild lands and even rivers were labeled. 

The X was in the city of Valais, near a river.  Also nearby there was an area labeled with a cross.  At first she wondered if it was another X, but then felt sure that it was indeed a perpendicular cross mark.  At length, not really understanding what she was seeing, she took her load of dishes and went back into the kitchen and handed them over to Cook before starting on the evening’s supper of roast chicken.  It wasn’t until the next afternoon that she understood the meaning of the cross. 

Lord Rosskeene had taken two men and cloistered himself in his study and as was h
er habit, as soon as he did, Chantaya went in to polish the silver and listen to their planning.  While she was listening, she heard them speaking of hiding in a ravine when the family went through the river, on the way to the church.  The moment she heard the word church, she realized what the cross had meant.  The cross was a church!  Shaking her head, she actually felt a trifle silly that it hadn’t occurred to her before.

Going back to listening, she tried to figure out what Lord Rosskeene was talking about.  She didn’t understand.  She assumed the family meant the royal family, but it made no sense.  Why would the king’s family be crossing a river on the way to a church?  And who was hiding in a ravine?  Surely if Rosskeene knew of someone hi
ding then it wasn’t someone the king and the knights would know of or want in the ravine.  And why would the royals travel out of the castle proper to a church?  The king’s church was actually right inside the castle walls, well protected by his own guards.

A marriage maybe?  But there had been no rumor of a royal wedding.  Certainly, if there was to be a
wedding celebration the royal family would attend it would be planned for some time.  There were no new babies in the royal family who would need christening outside the regular church building.  Things of that type would be done in the castle church anyway.  She polished and listened and was thoroughly confused about what it was Rosskeene was planning and so passionate about. 

When Conrad walked her back to the stable that night, she was still perplexed.  And worried.  What would m
ake Lord Rosskeene believe he would shortly be made king that would involve the royal family and a church?  A church they didn’t normally attend?

She became even more worried later when Conrad said to her as he was telling her mother good night, “Watch
yourself, Miss Chantaya.  For some reason the master has some men watching us.  Actually, I think he’s got them watching me, or one of the boys.  I’m not sure what they’re watching for, but they’re not to be trusted.  Don’t you be taking yourself off of a night on one of your wild rides.  ‘Twouldn’t be safe.  Not by any margin it wouldn’t.”

Nodding, Chantaya became thoughtful.  None of this made sense.  Why would Rosskeene have someone watching them?  And why a church?  It made no sense, but it made her and her mother feel all the more vulnerable.

When she couldn’t sleep, and knew her mother was tossing and turning as well, she finally spoke out into the darkness to ask, “Mother, why would Lord Rosskeene expect the king’s family to travel outside the castle on the way to a church?  They go to church inside the castle.  He’s planning something to do with a river crossing near a church.  Something soon.  Whatever could it be?”

In a tired voice, her mother asked, “What are you talking about
, Chantaya?”

“I heard Rosskeene and his friends talking about someone hiding in a ravine to do something to the royal family as they traveled to a church.  And it was on the map on his desk in his study.  It’s a church inside the city, but outside the castle.  But there’s a church right inside the castle walls.  I saw it just last week.”

Her mother sat straight up in bed.  “Chantaya, don’t you dare try to make another trip to meet Mordecai like that last one! Don’t you dare!  Especially not when Conrad has just told you there are frightening men about!  Leave this all to the knights.  ‘Tis what they’re trained for.”

Rolling her eyes in the dark where her mother couldn’t see, she replied, “Mother, I’m not going anywhere but to
sleep.  If I can ever get my mind to shut down.  I’m just trying to figure out what he’s up to.  But it’s complete nonsense.  At least to me.”