Chapter Five #2
Spring’s eyes were wide, her mouth hanging open at the blatant insult.
She wanted to clap back at her great-aunt, but she didn’t want a spoonful of gruel to come flying at her, so she looked at Wynter, hoping her sister might defend her.
Wynter gazed back at her, some sympathy on her face, but that was as far as it went.
She wasn’t going to challenge Sedelia, either.
But perhaps she could soften the blow.
“Auntie, I could not let her go alone,” Wynter said. “We ate, we listened to some music, and we returned home. That is all there is to it.”
Sedelia lifted an eyebrow. “You came home with a man following you.”
“Who told you that?”
“I told you. I pay my guards better than you do.”
“He was a knight we knew many years ago. He happened to be in the inn and offered to escort us home.”
Sedelia wiped her mouth with a soft napkin, neatly folded on the table, before speaking.
“You were both fortunate that nothing terrible happened,” she said, looking between them.
“Spring, you are not only ugly, you are stupid. Stupid to put you and your sister in such danger. I will tell your mother of this because she must know how stupid her daughter is so that she can protect you even if you refuse to protect yourself. And stop dragging Wynter into your foolish follies. If harm befalls her because of you, your father will never forgive you. Nor will I. Do you understand me?”
Spring was close to bursting into tears. “Aye, Auntie.”
Sedelia’s wizened gaze lingered on the pair for a moment before returning to her food. “Go, now,” she said. “Out of my sight. Go and pray for my dear brother and while you are there, pray for guidance on how to be less ridiculous.”
The conversation was effectively over. She returned to her food and both Wynter and Spring knew there were to be no more words on the subject. Sedelia always had to have the last word. Quietly, they left the table, heading into the foyer where the door was open to the courtyard beyond.
Outside, they could see their mother and sisters and the escort of Ashington soldiers.
There were five palfreys, one for each de Thorington lady, and three Ashington knights, men who had led the escort from Ashleven the day before and men who had been in their bed when Wynter and Spring had snuck out.
As Spring wiped her humiliated tears away and headed outside, Wynter caught sight of Sir Clark de Vries.
Her father’s captain, Clark was an older man with thinning blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
He had an imposing presence that was difficult to describe other than when he was in a room, he seemed to fill the entire thing up.
It was a presence of command, of skill, of years of fighting wars.
The man dressed in black – always in black – with the exception of the de Thorington serpent standard on his tunic.
As Wynter came down the steps from the manse and into the bailey, Clark walked past Spring to greet her.
“Well?” he asked, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Did you survive whatever verbal projectiles Lady Sedelia was slinging?”
Wynter chuckled; she genuinely liked Clark.
“I did,” she said. Then she sobered. “Spring crept out last night to go to the inn down the road and I went with her to make sure she came to no harm. Aunt Sedelia’s guards told her we slipped away, but Mother does not know.
Please do not tell her because Aunt Sedelia has already threatened to. ”
Clark scratched his head, passing a casual glance at Spring, who was standing with her mother. Maryann was clearly comforting her distraught daughter after her encounter with the brutal old woman.
“I only heard about it after you returned,” he muttered. “Had I been aware of your departure, I would have gone to bring you back.”
“I know,” Wynter said. “But you know how Spring is sometimes. There was no dissuading her.”
Clark snorted softly. “I know how she is,” he confirmed. “She drags you into her foolery and your intentions are always to protect her from herself.”
“Someone must.”
“She is going to fall into real trouble someday and you along with her.”
Wynter held up a hand. “Please,” she said. “No more admonishment. Aunt Sedelia dished out one of her better scoldings, including telling my sister that she was an ugly girl who was better off on a nunnery.”
Clark burst into soft laughter, covering his mouth to hide the grin. “She didn’t.”
“She did.”
Clark struggled to wipe the smile from his face. “She has always been a brutally honest woman,” he said. “Mayhap your sister would have done better had Lady Sedelia raised her. She is a disciplinarian.”
Wynter sighed, watching Maryann put a hand to Spring’s cheek in a comforting gesture. “There is something else, Clark,” she said softly.
“What?”
“We saw Gage de Reyne at the inn last night.”
Clark’s smile vanished. “What?” he said, incredulous. “He’s here?”
Wynter nodded. “He is with Bull,” she said. “We saw them both last night. It was Bull who followed us back here, presumably to ensure we did not come to any harm.”
Clark was obviously surprised and it took him a moment before he was able to respond. “God’s bones,” he muttered. “What in the world is Gage de Reyne doing back in the north? Did you speak to him?”
Wynter nodded. “A little,” she said. “He said several things, not the least of which was the fact that his brother lied when he told everyone Gage tried to murder him and steal his inheritance. We all knew it wasn’t true, but Gage confirmed it.”
Clark stared at her a moment before shaking his head. “That is nothing shocking,” he said. “As you said, we all knew it wasn’t the truth.”
“Indeed.”
“Where did Gage go when he left? Did he say?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “We did not really speak of it. He did not even tell me why he is here in Durham. He did not want me asking questions, but I will say one thing about him.”
“What?”
“He has changed a great deal.”
“What do you mean?”
Wynter noticed that her mother was directing her sisters to mount their palfreys.
“He’s… different,” she said as she started to walk towards the escort with Clark beside her.
“He looks different. Much different. And he’s bigger than you remember him.
His shoulders are broad, his arms enormous.
Everything about him has changed. He seemed so… distant. Not the Gage we knew at all.”
Clark didn’t push her. They were coming into the hearing range of Maryann and he didn’t want their conversation overheard, so he simply headed off towards his own steed to prepare to move the escort out.
But his mind was lingering on Wynter’s revelation.
News of Gage de Reyne’s return had been an interesting disclosure, indeed.
He’d known Gage well. In fact, when Gage had fostered at Ashleven in his youth, it had been Clark who had helped trained him.
He and Gage had been good friends and he had liked him a great deal, an overly sensitive knight with astonishing talent.
He, too, never believe the rumors of his departure from Septentrion Castle, but to think of Gage back in the north was a curious thought.
More than curious, in fact.
There were two things about the news that gave him pause.
The first thing was the fact that Brian de Luci had been having trouble with Stagshaw.
Was that reason enough for Gage to suddenly appear in the north again?
But the second thing – and more importantly – was that de Luci had hired a mercenary army in his fight against Stagshaw.
Clark had heard rumors this morning when the night patrols came in that a small army had been sighted encamped off to the east of Durham. A heavily armed army.
Perhaps the very mercenaries that de Luci had hired.
And now, an appearance by Gage de Reyne.
Coincidence? Clark wondered.
*
He’d used the excuse of finding a smithy for Varro’s lame horse.
But that wasn’t the truth.
The truth was that Gage wanted to catch a glimpse of Wynter because today was the day, she had told him, that her family was going to mass to say a prayer for her dead grandfather.
For some reason, he felt inexplicably drawn to her.
He hadn’t been able to sleep with thoughts of the lovely Wynter de Thorington floating through his mind.
Every time he’d drift off, he’d have a vision of her expression right before she marched out of the inn.
He kept telling himself that his concern stemmed purely from the fact that he’d hurt her feelings somehow and he didn’t want to hurt the woman he’d once called little sister.
But she was no longer a little sister.
She was no longer a little anything.
Those amber eyes had always been beautiful to him, even when she had been a young girl, but as a grown woman, they were like jewels set within her perfect face.
He’d spent so many years ignoring his emotions, stamping out any sentiment, that the mere fact that she had stirred something in him had him greatly confused.
It seemed that The North Wind wasn’t as cold as he liked to believe.
So, he waited for her.
Since he knew where Langley Castle was, the destination of Varro’s army, he knew he could catch up fairly quickly.
He’d found a smithy in the predawn hours, firing up his blacksmith’s forge and the man had agreed to fix the horse’s shoes in the hope of easing the strain on the right front hoof.
Gage left the horse there while he went to the manse Laurence had indicated as being the Haswell homestead – three doors down from The Rabbit Burrow, on the left.
And what a homestead it was.