Megan glanced at the men assigned to accompany her. She did not recognize any of them, but they caused her no fear. Her father would kill them if she came to harm in their hands. Megan thought how sad it was that they had more of a care for her than her mother did. Once on horseback, Megan spoke to her mother.
“Please tell Father that I said goodbye and that I look forward to seeing him when he visits.”
Megan gained a small measure of satisfaction in seeing the flicker of uncertainty in her mother’s look but it didn’t last. The older woman’s chin came up before she bade her daughter goodbye in a cold tone.
Megan, whose throat was suddenly very tight, said nothing. She turned her mount and heeled her forward, tears clogging her throat as she rode.
The sun was dropping low in the sky when one of the men said they would make camp soon. Megan questioned how far they had to go and was told they would arrive at Hawkings Crest before noon the following day.
They came into a copse of trees that would be their shelter for the night. As glad as Megan was to stop, she ached all over as she forced her body to slide from the horse’s back.
Not for the first time, Megan was impressed with her escort. There had been little conversation as they traveled, but their care of her could not be criticized. Now they made camp with amazing ease. Just an hour later, Megan was sitting comfortably on a log, eating rabbit that had been cooked over a spit. Within minutes she was feeling greatly refreshed, but when the man in charge, Hubert by name, recommended sleep, Megan was more than happy to comply.
Megan found herself near the fire, the men nearby to protect her, but as she lay down she wondered what her father would say of her situation. She knew that he had planned to leave Stone Lake early in the day with a full band of men and provisions, and have her to Hawkings Crest before nightfall. Megan also realized he would be furious if he could see her now. She debated the wisdom of giving him too many details. Praying that she wouldn’t walk in her sleep this night, she drifted off, her blanket literally covering her from head to foot.
The attack on their camp came sometime after midnight. One second Megan was sleeping in her blanket, the next she was being rolled under some nearby bushes where she sat up and looked out in horror at the unfolding scene.
Men, seemingly dozens of them, were in vicious attack against her guard. Megan kept her hand pressed tightly to her mouth to keep from crying out as she watched one, then two, and finally all three of her guards fall dead to the ground. Some of the attackers were dead as well, but at least six men were still standing.
Megan continued to watch as one of them broke open her small trunk and howled in frustration. She watched her belongings fly everywhere.
“Clothing! I thought they had gold.”
“Let me see,” said another.
“Fool!” raged yet a third, obviously in charge. “We lost men tonight over a trunk full of homespun rags.”
Megan watched the first man lift the trunk and throw it toward her. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the blow, but the trunk landed beyond the bush.
“What now?” one asked.
“We move on,” the third man said. “There’s nothing here but some good horseflesh. Let’s ride.”
There was a flurry of movement as the men departed, taking all four of her father’s horses with them.
When the battle had commenced, Megan thought it was going to last forever. Now that it was over, she wondered if only seconds had passed. She was trembling from head to foot, but the night was long spent before she could bring herself to crawl from the bushes to check on the men.
“Oh, Father God,” Megan cried pitifully as she knelt beside Hubert and then the others. She asked God to give her strength and wisdom, but she didn’t know when anything had so horrifed her. They had died protecting her. The thought so overwhelmed her that after just a few minutes she crawled back into the bushes and rewrapped herself in the blanket, still shivering so violently that she had to clamp her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering.
Megan didn’t know when she slept, but when slumber claimed her at last she dreamed that her mother was forced to bury these men and explain to their families why they were gone.
Megan heard the voices, but thinking she was still dreaming did not move. Not until a hand grasped her ankle, which protruded from the bush, did she let out a muffled scream and scramble further into the shrubs, twigs, and leaves scratching her face and hands.
“Well, one of ’em’s alive, no mistake.”
“A man?”
“Don’t rightly think it is.”
Megan heard more movement. The bushes parted, and a large, bearded face regarded her from without. It was fully light, but Megan held herself stiffly inside the foliage, hoping somehow they wouldn’t see her and would leave.
“You can come out, miss. Not a one of us will harm you.”
Megan licked her lips, undecided. It was hard to see past the branches and leaves, but she thought she detected a gleam of compassion in the man’s eyes. He backed away a moment later, and Megan came slowly out the side, figuring it would put her in a position to run if there were danger.
“Coo,” one of the men breathed as soon as she emerged. “Would you look at that ’air.”
Megan’s eyes searched their faces and immediately recognized them as a group of peddlers. She also saw that there was not a female among them. The men were all staring at her as if they’d never seen a woman before. Even through the dirt on her dress and brambles in her hair, the fact that she was a lady came shouting through.
“Are you hurt?” the bearded man asked, his soft voice seeming loud in the hushed circle.
Megan shook her head with unconscious elegance. She spoke then, and any doubts they might have had concerning her lineage dissolved with the cultured sound of her voice.
“We were attacked. My men fought hard, but they died protecting me.” Megan’s voice caught. Tears came to her eyes but did not fall.
“We’ve some bread and cheese here, miss. Would you care to eat?” This came from the bearded man, and although Megan was thankful for his kindness, she couldn’t eat a bite.
“Can you tell us where you was headed?” asked a man so taken with the russet red of her hair that he wanted to touch it. Yet his voice and manners were respectful.
“Hawkings Crest,” Megan told them. “I don’t know how close I am, so I’m not sure if I should try to go home or head on.”
“Home?” Again, the bearded man spoke.
“Stone Lake.”
He nodded, smiling slightly. “It’s a piece back to Stone Lake, and we’re going directly to the Crest if you’d care to ride.”
Megan was so relieved she could have wept. The men might have been surprised to know she had ridden in many a peddler’s cart, but never before had she felt that one had been sent by God.
An hour later they were well down the road, Megan atop the cart sitting comfortably on a pile of rugs. They had pressed food upon her and she had finally eaten, but now the night was catching up with her. Megan couldn’t stop the tears that poured down her cheeks. They were partly from exhaustion and partly from the loss of her father’s brave men. Within another hundred yards, she was asleep.
Four
HAWKINGS CREST
“NOW GET BACK TO WORK!”
The young woman who had been shouted at did as she was told, but not before she flipped her hair over her shoulder in contempt and glared at her uncle. The older man stood watching her a moment, his head moving in disgust.
“Pen giving you trouble again, Eddie?”
Eddie nearly growled. “My sister has never been able to control her. Has it in her head to work up in the kitchen, she does.” His voice was filled with offense. “She’s even working on her voice, trying to talk like a lady, no less. I tell you, Mic, that girl’s in for trouble if she don’t start to recognize ’er betters.”
Mic clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll handle her, Eddie.” The
younger man started to walk away but stopped. “The peddlers are in.”
“So I see. At least it’s old Elias,” Eddie observed, referring to the man with the dark beard. “He’s fair.”
Mic moved in the direction of the wagon, but Eddie went back toward the creamery. With Pen acting up, he was behind schedule. He decided to brook no more of her high-minded airs or her talk of the kitchens. With a disgruntled frown, he moved inside.
“Thank you, Elias,” Megan told him sincerely. She had awakened a half mile outside the walls of the keep and walked in behind the peddler’s cart with the men, but now she took the time to thank her rescuers before moving toward the castle. Megan had found them all kind to a fault, and since she didn’t know what kind of reception she would receive from the inhabitants at Hawkings Crest, it was a little hard to leave them.
But as usual Megan was made of stern stuff, and with a smile that encompassed them all, she moved rather stiffly toward the main entrance. It was a waste of time. The guards questioned her without listening to her answer, and Megan, knowing she looked even worse than when the peddlers found her, was not in the mood to argue her way inside.
She moved around the keep for a good 20 minutes, impressed with its cleanliness and order before spotting what appeared to be an entrance to the kitchens. A man, looking less austere than the front entrance guards, stood close by. Megan gathered her courage to approach.
“Will you please take me to Lord Bracken?” Megan asked calmly but felt a fool at the man’s look.
“Be away, woman. Return to your work.”
He gave Megan the cold shoulder, and in disgust she stomped off around the corner of the building. She hadn’t gone ten steps when she collided into something huge, or was it someone ?
Megan’s eyes slowly rose, and she looked up into the face of the largest man she had ever seen. She stumbled back in fear against a stone wall, her mouth opening and closing in panic.
“Lord, B-B-Bracken?” She managed to stutter, but the giant only stared at her, an unreadable expression on his craggy face.
Megan inched her way along, the giant turning with her, his eyes spearing her. When she had a clear shot, she ran. She never looked back to see if she was being followed, but ran behind the creamery and stood asking herself what to do next.
Megan stayed still for a long time, gaining her breath. It was tempting at this moment to join the peddlers. She was willing to do almost anything to escape this foreign keep and the antagonistic stares of its inhabitants, but she wasn’t welcome at Stone Lake, so where would she go?
Megan decided to circle the building, thinking to inquire of Bracken with someone inside. Before she could open the door, a person came charging out. He was a good-sized man with a harried look, one that didn’t improve upon spotting Megan.
“Why aren’t you inside?”
Megan blinked but managed to say, “I need you to take me to Lord Bracken.”
“Oh, heaven help me!” the man burst out, startling Megan into speechlessness. “Why must I be saddled with uppity female servants?”
Before Megan could draw a breath, she was grasped firmly by the forearm and taken inside.
“You must be new, so I’ll give you some time to familiarize yourself. Have you worked the creamery before?”
Rage boiled up inside of Megan, who thought she would not be able to stand one more second of this. She was tempted to stomp on the man’s foot and then inform him that she had designed the creamery at the Stone Lake abbey. All she said, however, was yes, she had. Megan figured if she worked for a time, she might better determine a way to get inside the castle. So just minutes later, Megan found herself working over a churn. She worked silently and efficiently, not speaking or looking at anyone, but feeling eyes on her. She also listened. If the gossip around her could be believed, the lord of the castle was not even there.
Megan could have howled with frustration, but refraining, simply worked silently until she thought her arms would give way. It was a tremendous relief to have the man who had grabbed her, the one the other women called Eddie, dismiss them for the day. Megan breathed deeply of the fresh air once she was outside.
She noticed the servants queuing up behind a cauldron of food and suddenly realized she was starving. Without a shred of pride left, Megan joined them. Heads turned to stare at her, but she ignored them. At the moment she would have given up her dowry for a bath, but food in her stomach was the next best thing.
The line moved steadily along, but Megan seemed to be the last, for no one stood behind her. She glanced up at one point to find the giant some ten feet away. He appeared to be staring right at Megan, and for a moment she could not look away from his steady gaze. Just then, the man in front of her sneezed loudly, and Megan dropped her eyes.
That the big man was of some importance was obvious, but he terrified Megan. She heard someone call “Arik” and looked up to see the huge man turn. He towered over the person who spoke to him, as he did everyone. Megan dropped her eyes just before the other man left and the giant turned his attention to her once again. It never occurred to her to ask him for help; he was too intimidating for that.
At last it was Megan’s turn to eat. She took one of the few remaining bowls, which were carved roughly from wood and a bit greasy, and held it out to the man behind the cauldron. Megan ignored his odd look, so she didn’t see the exchange with the giant behind her. Her bowl was suddenly filled to the top, and where the bread pan had been empty, it now held a full loaf. The man broke a huge chunk off for Megan, who thanked him humbly.
She then moved to a place against the wall and sank down to eat. There were no utensils, so Megan soaked her bread with broth for the first time. She ate like a man starved. Her bowl was over half empty and some of the shakes had left her body when she once again looked and found the giant’s eyes on her.
Megan’s face flamed with the way she’d been eating, and she set her bowl aside. To her surprise, the giant averted his gaze.
Megan’s eyes dropped to her bowl, but when she looked up he was still looking away. Still hungry, she reached for the food again, and this time she finished every bite. The giant was still there, but he was not staring directly at her.
The sun was falling fast by the time Megan was through, and since it was midsummer, she watched many of the castle’s inhabitants make their beds along the castle walls. Megan didn’t care for the idea of sleeping on the ground without a blanket, so she rose slowly and surreptitiously made her way in the gathering dusk across the inner courtyard to the blacksmith’s. The building was empty.
Wishing she could see a little better, Megan entered on nearly silent feet and soon found what appeared to be an empty stall. The hay smelled fresh, and she gingerly stretched out on her side. She was asleep inside of five minutes, and even when the giant of the castle, holding a lantern and ducking his head to enter, came to check on her, she didn’t stir. She also didn’t stir when he settled down for the night against the wall just outside the door.
By Megan’s fifth day at Hawkings Crest, her life had developed something of a pattern. Every night she slept in the smithy’s shop and ate with the other servants, but she was no closer to getting inside the castle than she had been the first day. Each day she worked in the creamery, but was never chosen to deliver the butter, cheese, or cream to the kitchens within.
Not that it would have done much good. It seemed that Bracken was still away. Megan struggled with her anger nearly every day over the way her mother had dismissed her. Her intended had obviously been expecting her on a certain day, a day her father surely must have known about. Megan’s head told her that her mother, too, had known this all along, but her heart refused to believe it.
The work was just beginning. Eddie came out of the creamery then and found Megan just staring up at the castle. On the first day and even the second, Eddie would have ordered her back to work, but no longer. No servant had missed the way Arik kept his eye on this woman. The lack of comb for he
r hair and the simple homespun cloth of her dress made it clear that she was just a servant, but there was certainly no harm in this knight losing his heart to a servant girl.
In truth, they were all rather pleased for their castle giant, whose odd ways had caused many of them to wonder at times if he was even human. Arik seemed unaffected by the cold and heat, and few had ever seen him eat. He spoke so few words to anyone that the castle folk were not entirely sure what he saw in this red-haired maid, but they were happy for him nonetheless.
Megan finished her inspection of the castle and would have turned to go back to the creamery but a shout came up from the wall. Although she was in no danger, she stepped back as the gates were opened and a large group of riders came inside. There was quite a stir and it didn’t take long, with the way the castle folk responded, to see that Bracken was among them. He stood out in coloring, height, and breadth, and Megan studied the proud tilt of his head from a distance.
Megan suddenly drew a deep breath. There was now a very real reason to gain entrance to the castle, but how would she do it? With a bit more thought, the inner bailey still in upheaval, Megan returned to the interior of the creamery. The day was early yet; she would find a way.
Bracken scanned the inner courtyard of Hawkings Crest with pleasure. It was good to be home. He spotted Arik at a distance, but something in the man’s stance told him not to approach. He would like to have questioned him as to the keep’s operations in his absence, but Arik could be mule stubborn.
Bracken could see, even from across the courtyard, that he didn’t care to converse, and he knew from experience that nothing would provoke him to do so against his will. With a shrug, Bracken moved to the castle. In the meantime, he would question Barton, his steward, and deal with Arik later.