Autumn's Touch (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 3) Page 12

  “Nay, you’ll not harm Nairnie, or anyone else. I am just still not feeling all that well.”

  “Shall I bring your food to your chamber?” asked Nelek.

  Benedict looked down to the haggis, having wanted it so much. But now, to eat it would feel like an act of betrayal. His hounds sniffed around the table and looked up at him with eager eyes.

  He let out a breath of frustration before he answered. “Give the haggis to the hounds and don’t let anyone disturb me for the rest of the night.”

  Chapter 13

  Benedict tossed and turned all night long not able to sleep a wink. Besides being hungry, he was irritated and embarrassed that Autumn hadn’t come to dinner last night. He rolled over, smashing down his pillow and cursing himself inwardly for not taking action for her inappropriate behavior. Instead, he’d reacted and that was something that only made a warrior weak.

  Two of his hounds, Prince and Princess, whined and came over to lick his hand. Three more of his dogs, Fetch, Jack, and Storm were also in his solar. The rest stayed out in the great hall or the kennels. He’d missed his dogs since the only one that he’d allowed in his room while he was ill was Bailey. Bailey was the dog that liked to curl up in bed and stay there. However, now, he wasn’t even around.

  “What do you think I should have done?” he asked Princess, running his hand over the dog’s head. Princess whimpered and lay on the floor with her nose between her paws looking very sad. “You would say that since you’re a girl,” he scowled.

  The door to his solar opened, and Nelek walked in with a covered tray and a goblet in his hands. Goliath, Benedict’s largest dog, along with his smallest dog, David, trailed behind him sniffing the air. “Lord Ravenscar, are you awake?” Nelek whispered into the darkened room.

  “Come in and close the door, Nelek.”

  His squire walked through the room with all of the dogs following him.

  “What have you got there?” he asked, sitting up in bed. By the way the dogs were stuck to him, Benedict knew it had to be food.

  “I managed to confiscate this before Sir Oxley inhaled it all.” He lifted the lid, releasing the tantalizing aroma of haggis that filled the air. Benedict’s stomach growled. He swung his feet over the side of the bed.

  “You brought haggis!” he said excitedly, his mouth watering already.

  “As well as wine, my lord.” Nelek waded through the sea of dogs and laid the goblet on the bedside table. Benedict stood up and took the tray from him. His dogs jumped up, trying to get some.

  “Get down,” he commanded, pushing Goliath away when the dog’s nose came too close to his coveted food. “You’ve already had your share, this is mine.”

  His eyes devoured the feast as he inhaled the scent. Then with his eyes partially closed he let out a long, slow breath. He had just picked up the spoon and was about to scoop up the food when Nelek’s next words stopped him.

  “I managed to save a little for Lady Autumn as well.”

  “Nay,” he said with a shake of the spoon. “I told you not to bring any food to her room. If she can’t eat in the great hall like everyone else, then she doesn’t eat at all.” He opened his mouth wide and took a bite. The flavors exploded on his tongue. It was surely some of the best food he’d ever had. He scooped more onto his spoon.

  “Does that rule only hold true for her?” asked Nelek.

  “Nay. The rule goes for everyone. Why do you ask?” He took another bite, looking up to see Nelek staring at his plate. The boy didn’t need to say a word for him to know what he meant. “I’m lord of the castle. The rule doesn’t apply to me,” he said in his defense.

  “Oh. I see. I’m sure Lady Autumn will understand.”

  One of Benedict’s dogs sighed as if on cue.

  How could he eat now? With Nelek staring at him on one side and his dogs watching him on the other, he felt like a wretch.

  “Damn you, Squire,” he said, taking the plate and putting it on the ground. “Go on,” was all he said before his dogs eagerly devoured his dinner. Benedict plopped back down in bed, rolled over, and pressed his face into the pillow.

  “Did you want the wine, my lord? Because if not, I can drink it,” said Nelek.

  “Take it,” he murmured into the pillow, having lost all desire for food or drink right now. “And do me a favor and stay in the great hall tonight.”

  “My lord?” asked Nelek in question. “My place is here with you – sleeping at the foot of your bed. What if you need something during the night?”

  Benedict lifted his head and glared at the boy. “The only thing you’re going to need is a pair of shackles to restrain me when I start coming after you for not obeying my orders.”

  Nelek was drinking the wine but stopped in mid-motion and put the goblet on the table. “I think I’ll go down to the great hall, my lord. See you in the morning.”

  Benedict somehow was finally able to drift off to sleep. But still, the memories of his past haunted him, keeping his soul unsettled.

  It’s just the two of us now, Son,” said Benedict’s father, William Grenfell. “My heart is heavy with the recent deaths of your mother and sisters.”

  “Father, don’t leave me,” begged Benedict. He was only eight years of age. He didn’t want to be left alone at Ravenscar Castle while his father led Ravenscar’s army on their raid on the Scottish border.

  “I’m going to battle, Son. It is Ravenscar’s command and I must follow it since I am his captain of the guard. We’ll be fighting the Scots and I might not be back. They are fierce warriors.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “You’re just a boy. The battlefield is no place for you.”

  “I don’t care. I’m a page and, someday, will be a squire. I want to be at your side.”

  William looked into his son’s eyes. Benedict couldn’t help seeing the sadness that engulfed him from the loss of his family to illness. He thought his father would say no to bringing him along. But then a small smile pressed the man’s lips upwards as he unfastened his dagger from his weapon belt and handed it to Benedict.

  “If you’re going to be a squire, you’ll need a means of protecting yourself as well as the lord you’ll someday serve.” He handed him an ornate dagger with the two-toned swirls of metal on the hilt.

  “But this is your dagger, Father,” said Benedict in protest.

  “It’s yours now, Son.”

  The battle between the Scots proved to be deadly, just as Benedict’s father had predicted. Right before Benedict’s eyes, he saw his father taken down. When he tried to help him with his dagger, a Scot’s blade ripped into Benedict’s face, slicing through his flesh. He fell to the ground atop his father’s dead body.

  Then an angel came to him in a fog. He thought he was dead, but a Scottish woman with a basket of healing herbs gathered him to her bosom.

  “I willna let ye die,” she told him.

  “I am . . . an orphan now,” he managed to say, wanting to die so he could be with the rest of his family in the afterworld.

  “My name is Nairnie,” the angel told him. “Who are ye?”

  “I’m . . . Benedict.”

  “Then ye shall be my son now, Benedict. God has answered my prayers. Aye, now ye will be mine.”

  * * *

  Autumn felt terrible the next morning since she had broken her promise to the children. They’d, once again, showed up in her tower room to sleep. She had been so distraught about the dogs and then the fact that Nelek had come to her room to tell her Benedict was angry with her that she’d barely slept all night.

  She was hungry, too. Nelek told her that Lord Benedict gave the command not to bring her any food. Nairnie had slept in the great hall since she said it was too crowded in the room with all the children. She’d tried to bring her food first, but Autumn refused it, not wanting the woman to get into trouble if Benedict should find out. The children had offered to steal food for her, but she told them no.

  Autumn got out of the cha
ir, looking at the sleeping children on the pallet. The two girls and little Rab laid sideways on it, while Enar and Torkel slept on the floor atop the only blanket. She decided she would talk to Benedict today and convince him that the children needed better accommodations even if they were only servants.

  Looking out the open window, she saw the first rays of light peeking over the horizon. She got off the chair quietly, thinking about her guard, Lester, as well. She had no idea what had happened to him. She decided she would go to the dungeon today and make sure he was still alive.

  Collecting her basket of herbs, she decided that she’d use the excuse that she needed to check Benedict’s health to talk to him. After last night, she was sure he was in no mood to give her what she wanted for the children. She’d have to be clever about how she approached him. But first, she would sneak down to the dungeon, hiding food in her basket under the herbs, to see that Lester was being treated fairly.

  As she picked up the basket, the dagger she’d hidden inside fell to the floor with a loud clang. She’d almost forgotten about this. Planning on asking Nairnie what she thought, she’d left the dagger in the basket up until now.

  The girls stirred. Torkel sat up and rubbed his eyes.

  “Go back to sleep,” she whispered, picking the dagger up off the floor, using the cloth. She was about to hide it back under the herbs in her basket when she decided to leave it here for now. If she were caught in the dungeon with a dagger, she would be accused of trying to help her guard escape. She didn’t want trouble right now. There were so many things she needed to tend to, and she didn’t want to be locked away because of her careless actions.

  “Is it morning?” Torkel asked.

  “Almost,” she said, opening the trunk and slipping the dagger inside.

  “We need to do our chores,” said Enar.

  “Another half hour of sleep isn’t going to hurt a thing,” she told them. “Now lay down and get a little more rest.”

  She slipped out of the room and headed down to the kitchen where she found Nairnie already making bread for the day. The old woman was just taking the first loaves out of the oven on a long-handled wooden paddle.

  “I’m glad ye’re up,” said Nairnie. “I kent ye’d be hungry, so I started the bread early. Here, have some. It is fresh from the oven, lassie.”

  “Thank you, Nairnie.” Autumn ate her fill, following it down with ale. She was so hungry she didn’t even speak to Nairnie again until she was done. “I want to take some food to Lester in the dungeon and see how he is faring,” she told the old woman.

  “Nay, lassie,” said Nairnie with a frown. “The dungeon is no place for a noblewoman. I’ll go instead.”

  “Thank you, Nairnie, but I want to see Lester. I feel his imprisonment is my fault since I ventured off the ship in the storm.”

  Nairnie sighed and shook her head. Then she quickly scoped the room. When the other servants who were already awake were not looking, she stuck a loaf of bread under the herbs in Autumn’s basket. “The guard on duty right now is a sound sleeper. I kent for a fact he had too much wine yesterday waitin’ for ye to come to the great hall for the meal. If ye go quickly, ye might be able to see Lester without him wakin’. I’ve heard he keeps the keys to the cells on a hook by the torch.”

  “Thank you, Nairnie.”

  “I still think it’s a daft plan to go to the dungeon. If ye are goin’ to all the trouble, mayhap I should have stuck a dagger in that loaf of bread to help him escape.”

  “Oh. That reminds me. I found a bloodstained dagger in Ravenscar’s room.”

  “Ye did?” Nairnie wiped her hands on a rag and moved closer to the table. “What did Benedict say about it?”

  “He doesn’t know I have it,” she said. “I had to sneak it out of the room when Oxley almost caught me. That’s when I heard Benedict telling the servants to bring him any weapon they found.”

  “Hmmmm. I wonder what that was all about,” said Nairnie.”

  “Can I have some bread?” came a small voice.

  Autumn jumped, surprised to find Torkel standing right behind her. She hadn’t heard him come into the kitchen and hoped he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Nairnie.

  “Yes, ye can, laddie,” said Nairnie, pushing a loaf into his hands. “Ye share that with yer brathairs, and when the girls come down to the kitchen to work, I’ll have some for them as well.”

  “Where is the dungeon, Torkel?” asked Autumn.

  “I’ll show ye.” Shoving the loaf of bread under his tunic, he led her down the corridor to the darkest, dingiest part of the castle. An occasional burning torch high on the walls lit the way. They descended some stairs into the bowels of the castle. With each step they took, it became darker and colder, and more frightening.

  “It’s through there,” said the boy, pointing to a closed, wooden door. She walked up to the door and was about to open it, but decided to ask Torkel some more questions. She turned back, but the boy was gone.

  A rat ran over her foot, making her jump. Her hand flew to her mouth to hold back her scream. When her heart finally stilled, she found enough courage to open the door. It creaked, echoing in the underground chamber. She stopped and waited. When she heard the guard snoring, she continued inside.

  One of the castle guards leaned back on two legs of a chair, balanced against the wall. His arms were folded over his chest. His head was down with his eyes closed. The keys were hanging on a hook behind him. She silently slipped the key ring from the hook, being careful not to wake the guard.

  Luck was on her side when the first key fit into the iron-barred door leading to the cells. She carefully slid the key into the lock and turned it, opening the gate and slipping inside.

  Water dripped from the ceiling, making a deafening sound in her ears. She crept forward, noticing the first few cells were empty.

  “Lester,” she whispered. Then she called him again. “Lester, are you in here?”

  She heard a moan and hurried to the occupied cell. There, on the ground and curled up into a fetal position, was her guard. His face and body were bruised, and he looked to have been whipped and beaten.

  “Lester!” She ran to the cell, gripping on to the bars. “What has that beast done to you?”

  “Lady Autumn?” Lester raised his head, enabling her to see the scratches and dried blood on his face. His eyes were sunken.

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Without thinking about the consequences, she found the right key and unlocked the cell door. Then she rushed in and fell to her knees on the cold, wet ground. Cradling his head in her lap, she used the cloth from around the bread to dab at the dirt on his face.

  Suddenly, she heard the sound of the wooden outer door opening, and what sounded like the clicking of boot heels against the floor. She looked up to see Benedict entering the guard room with two of his hounds following at his heels.

  “What’s this?” he said to the guard. “You’re sleeping on the job?”

  “Nay, not at all, my lord,” said the guard, almost falling from his chair.

  “Really? Then why is the door to the cell room open?”

  “I don’t know, my lord. The keys are right here.”

  “Are they?” Benedict looked up to the empty hook and shook his head. “Goliath, Sampson,” he said to his wolfhounds. “Go see if we’ve got a visitor.”

  Autumn almost cried out when she saw the two giant wolfhounds bolting down the aisle, sniffing the ground as they made their way toward her. She jumped up and banged the cell door closed just as the dogs approached. They barked and snarled, so vicious that the hair stood up on the backs of their necks.

  “That’s enough, boys.” Benedict pushed forward and looked into the cell. Then his eyes opened wide in surprise. “What the hell!”

  “My lord,” said the guard running after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear her sneak in.”

  “Lady Autumn,” Benedict said with a slight greeting nod from the other side of the bars, surprised as all
hell to see her closed inside the cell. The odd part was, he was sure he heard her close the door herself. “Now I see why you didn’t join me for dinner. Too busy trying to help your guard escape?”

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort,” she retorted. She was too fair and beautiful to be behind bars in a cell that smelled like urine and feces and was infested with rats.

  “What in God’s name are you doing in there?”

  “I came to bring healing herbs to my guard and I’m glad I did. It seems he’s been beaten, starved and whipped.”

  “What? Open this door anon,” he told her.

  “Nay, I will not open the door until you promise to take better care of Lester.”

  “I should leave you in there because of your obstinance,” he spat, irritated that the wench was already causing him trouble so early in the morning. “Now, step aside and let me see your guard.”

  When she did, he realized she was telling the truth. Against his orders, someone had beaten Lester to near death.

  “God’s eyes, open this door and let me in there anon,” he said. She gripped the ring of keys in her hand and he could tell she had no intention of handing them over. “I’ll tend to the guard’s needs myself,” said Benedict. “I’ll also have the head of whoever did this to him. It was my command that no harm come to the man.” He turned toward the dungeon guard. “Who did this?”

  “It was me,” admitted the man. “But I only did it because Sir Oxley said it was what you ordered.”

  “The liar,” he ground out. “Oxley will be dealt with and you will be put in the stocks for a sennight for what you did.”

  “But I was only following what I thought was your order, Lord Ravenscar,” protested the man. “It was what the last lord always did, so I had no reason to doubt it.”

  “I don’t care. You’ll pay for your mistake.”

  “Please, don’t punish him,” begged Autumn from inside the cell. “He didn’t know. Just let me heal Lester before I leave him.”