Chapter Six #2
She spun on her heel and raced back into the castle, leaving Arik confused. There was suddenly someone beside him.
“What happened?” Gaston asked, watching Remington disappear into the innards of the castle.
Arik lifted his shoulders. “Nothing at all…I think. Oh, hell, I do not know. She had come to speak with you about her sister and I happened to pull her out of the way of a speeding cart. She acted as if I tried to take advantage of her.”
Gaston sighed slowly, long and deep. “Her son told me yesterday that Sir Guy used to beat her, quite severely I gather. She fears men in general, I think, so it would be best to tread lightly around her until she realizes we are not a threat. That goes for the sisters, too.”
Arik crossed his arms. “Then I was right with my first observations. That woman has been terribly abused. The boy, too? And the sisters?”
“From what I understand, all of them to some extent,” Gaston answered unemotionally, though that was far from the truth. He found that he was quite emotional about it, although he had no right to be.
“This bothers you,” Arik stated.
Gaston looked at him, seeing that Arik was studying him curiously. “’Tis no concern of mine.”
Arik did not believe him for a moment but he let it slide. “The fact remains; what do you intend to do with the lady and her sisters? With Stoneley locked away in prison for the rest of his natural life, his wife and her family are in question.”
“There is no question. She will stay here and remain chatelaine,” Gaston said flatly. “And her family stays with her.”
“The old man runs the castle, Gaston, not Lady Stoneley,” Arik pointed out. “You could keep him on and get rid of the rest. They are of no use.”
“Why are you so eager for me to order them away?” Gaston asked curiously. “In the first place, where in the hell would I send them? Lady Remington told me that they have no family and nowhere to go.”
“Untrue,” Arik countered. “She told me that the manor house, occupied by her father until his death, stands empty not eight miles from here. You can send them there and they would be away from the fortress.”
Gaston crossed his arms and faced Arik. “Why are you so intent for them to leave Mt. Holyoak? In faith, I have not given it much thought, but I see no reason why they cannot remain.”
“I am only thinking of them, Gaston, truly,” Arik said.
“Think on it, man – within the month you will have nearly double the soldiers you already have, trainees and recruits. This place will be turned into one massive training ground literally crawling with men. Now tell me, how safe do you think four women will be against over one thousand men? And I have grave doubts that we should retain any serving wenches, as well.”
The thought had indeed occurred to Gaston and he saw the truth of Arik’s words.
He could leave orders for the women to be left alone, threat and intimidate all he could, but it would not prevent a truly lustful man from obtaining his ends.
He would die for his actions, of course, but the fact would remain that the actions occurred nonetheless.
And he couldn’t allow that to happen to Remington or to any of them.
“I have a few weeks yet to make my decision,” he said, looking away from Arik. “As for now, I will seek out my lady and see what she wished to speak with me about.”
Arik snorted, amused. “Since when do you seek a woman out?”
Gaston was not amused in the least. He eyed Arik, his jaw ticking, and his knight received the silent message loud and clear. Clearing his throat, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of laboring men.
*
Nicolas had charge of the castle as the others toiled in the sun outside.
It was his duty to coordinate the watches and keep an eye on the keep in general, and he went about his duty with the usual eagerness.
He was an extremely intelligent boy, if not a bit rash, and was most competent in his duties.
He kept wandering by the solar where Jasmine and Skye were holed up.
He would pace, eye the women, and continue on his way.
This routine had been going on for most of the morning until Jasmine and Skye had grown quite irritated at his attention.
Twice, Jasmine told him to go away, but he had ignored her soundly.
Angered, she and Skye set forth a plan of action.
And it was for revenge, too. After all, he was the reason Rory was holed up in the vault like a common prisoner and they sought to make amends for their sister.
They reasoned that the action coming from them would be forgivable; were Rory to exact her own revenge, the Dark Knight would most likely banish her from the keep forever.
It was an easy plan; the next time Nicholas wandered by the door, they would douse him with a bucket of water for his troubles. Skye stole a bucket from the kitchens and filled it full with water from the cistern, escaping back to the solar undetected.
Giggling and snorting, they waited in the shadows by the open door for Nicolas to make his appearance.
He did, like clockwork. As soon as he appeared Jasmine let the water sail at him with all of her might, completely soaking his head as if he had dunked it completely under water. Her aim was perfect and they squealed in triumph as he sputtered and gasped.
“What was that for?” he roared.
“For being a nuisance,” Jasmine answered saucily.
“And for sending Rory to the vault,” Skye sneered, sticking her tongue out at him for good measure.
Nicolas pursed his lips together angrily. “Is that so? Well, it would seem that the two of you could use the same discipline your sister sampled.”
He took one step and they scattered, screaming and shrieking and dodging around him in their haste to exit. He grabbed for each girl in turn, missing the both of them, and rapidly whirled on his heels to give chase.
They would feel the flat side of his palm against their backsides, too.
They made a crazy trio, Jasmine and Skye screaming in terror, or mayhap delight, their skirts hiked up around their thighs as a knight in heavy armor chased after them.
The ladies took him up two flights of stairs, racing madly down corridors and then plunging downstairs again. Nicolas lost some ground, but he never gave up. He was intent on catching the two misfits and he would have them.
Nicolas was descending another flight of stairs when his eye caught a bucket with a ladle in it, perched on a ledge.
He snatched the bucket and tossed the ladle aside, the devious little boy in him planning to give the women a taste of their own medicine.
They had run a circle and were back in the same corridor that they had started in; sooner or later they would make the mistake of passing him, thinking he had given up chase.
With a sinister chuckle, he ducked into the solar.
Remington entered the corridor, her mind still on her reaction to Arik when he had literally saved her life.
He had put his hands on her and she had jumped like a boar in a snare.
She was deeply embarrassed at her reaction; she had not even thanked him for saving her from the wagon.
But the more she walked, the calmer she became, and she vowed to make it up to Sir Arik at supper.
Mayhap she could make up for her lack of manners by playing her flute for him.
She hoped he would forget about the incident.
The corridor was warm and she fanned herself furiously as she made her way to the solar.
She was an avid fan of Greek and Roman writers, as was Guy, and his solar was filled with mythology.
Not only Greek and Roman, but Gaul and Celt as well.
She loved to lose herself in the stories, and a hot day was an outstanding opportunity.
She suspected nothing as she turned to enter the solar and was flabbergasted when she was hit in the face with a great gush of water. Instinctively, she let out a whoop of surprise.
“My lady.” Nicolas was horrified; the bucket in his hand clattered to the floor. “My God. I thought you were…oh, my sweet Lord. I thought you were your sisters.”
Remington opened her eyes and looked down at herself; she was completely soaked. Her face, her hair, the entire front of her dress was soaked to the skin. She looked up at Nicolas, her mouth agape, when she was struck by the horror on his face. The man was literally white with shock.
She couldn’t help it; laughter began to bubble up and before she could stop herself, she was screaming with laughter.
Nicolas looked at her as if she was quite mad, but her laughter was infectious.
Relieved she wasn’t angry, he joined in her laughter.
In fact, they both looked rather comical; soaked through.
Jasmine and Skye appeared in the hall several doors down, their faces a mask of surprise.
“Remi. He got you,” Jasmine declared.
Remington looked at her sisters, her laughter fading and a twinkle of mischief coming to her eye. “Aye, he did. And for revenge, I will get you.”
Jasmine and Skye screamed and tore off as if the devil were chasing them. Remington snatched the bucket from the floor and raced off after them, wet surcoat and all.
At the end of the hall was a stone cylinder filled with water. She dipped the bucket in and continued after her sisters, albeit more slowly than before. But she was determined to catch them.
Dane and Charles found her in the upper hall and joined her on her quest when she told them of recent events. Each armed with a bucket of water, they went in search of Jasmine and Skye.
Gaston entered the castle seeking Lady Stoneley. He was barely into the structure when he met up with Jasmine and Skye, their faces flushed from running.
They stumbled to a halt in front of him, curtseying clumsily. He eyed them as they staggered and bobbed, looking over their shoulder as if any moment they expected Satan to appear.
“Where is Lady Stoneley?” he asked, wondering at their strange state.