Chapter Eleven
Given how deserted the village of Eastmoor had appeared, the fact that Tay’s cottage was equally dusty and deserted-looking on the inside wasn’t a surprise.
After leaving the longhouse, Tay had taken Athdara to his cottage, which was one of the larger ones in the village.
The door was unlocked, and they entered into a common room that was split off from a secondary chamber toward the rear, looking as if it had once been a kitchen.
The chamber had an enormous hearth that it shared with the common room, and there were rusty iron pots and pitchers and other things, quite old, that suggested someone had once cooked there.
It also sported a table, rather beaten, with two equally old chairs.
The floor above had three chambers—a larger one facing the street, a smaller one that had trunks and other things stored in it, and then a chamber that faced the rear of the house and the fields of Blackchurch beyond.
There was another tiny staircase that led to an attic space, perhaps once used by servants.
Tay told Athdara to take her pick of any of the chambers, and she chose the attic space because it was far from where he would be sleeping.
Not because she wanted to be far away from him, but because propriety dictated it.
Athdara had had time to think about the situation since leaving the longhouse, and she’d come to a few conclusions, most of which were confusing.
It was confusion driven by attraction.
Tay had, since the beginning of their association, been something of interest to her.
Even when she discovered he was the mighty Leviathan, that attraction hadn’t been dampened, though their ensuing relationship had been puzzling.
It was still puzzling. The man who had sworn to drive every woman recruit into the ground had somehow become her advocate.
How could she not be attracted to him?
She had been since the first.
Now, here she was in his home. While he went off to attend to his recruit class and completely forgot about the food he’d promised her, Athdara arranged her meager possessions in her borrowed chamber.
She remembered seeing trunks down in the small chamber on the floor below, so she went down there to find something to put her belongings in.
She found four trunks in that room, three of them full of things and the fourth one empty. That one ended up in her chamber.
Something else missing from the chamber was a bed.
Athdara went down to the first floor again, hunting around for a bedframe or something that could be used as a bed.
Whoever lived in the cottage before Tay had left behind a good many things that were dusty and, in some cases, broken, but there were useful things amongst the rubbish.
The large chamber overlooking the street was clearly Tay’s chamber, and there was a bed there, topped with a dirty mattress, and bed linens strewn all over the place.
She didn’t want to take his bed, so that meant she had to either fashion her own or find one she could reasonably fit together.
She ended up behind the cottage, where there was more clutter and more junk left over from decades of trainers and perhaps even their families living in the village.
It was mostly rubbish. She came across broken chairs that could be easily repaired and, at some point, a spindle.
There was actually a good deal of discarded possessions behind the cottages, and she brought two chairs and the spindle back into Tay’s house.
She ended up wandering back behind the rows of cottages again, looking for things that were salvageable, and after much searching found a bedframe and the rope to go with it.
She also found a small barn, listing heavily to one side, that had more junk in it.
All of it appeared old and worn and looked as if it didn’t belong to anyone, and that included a canvas bag that ended up being a mattress without the stuffing. Someone had cast it aside long ago.
After dragging the bedframe, the rope, and the mattress back to Tay’s cottage, she began organizing everything.
It had been a very long time since she’d had a place to call her own, but years ago when she was the chatelaine of Breda Castle after the death of her mother, she was quite organized and knew very well how to run a house and hold.
It was a talent that came naturally to her, and given that Tay was graciously allowing her to stay in his cottage, she was going to repay the favor by doing the chores and cleaning up for him.
She figured that it was the very least she could do for this man who seemed intent on advocating for her. Helping her.
The mere thought that there may be more to it made her heart leap.
But first things first. Athdara hauled the bedframe and the rope up to her attic room and very carefully pieced the bed together.
The rope was strong, if not slightly dry and brittle, as was the bedframe, and she was rather pleased with the bed once it was fully put together.
After that, it was simply a matter of stuffing the mattress.
She knew she could either use hay or feathers, and she was certain hay would be easier to come by.
She went on the hunt. Athdara could see the stables from the rear of the cottage.
They were off to the northeast, near the north gate.
The rain that had been threatening for the past couple of hours was now swiftly approaching, and fat drops fell from the sky.
They were sporadic, however, so it was no hardship as she dragged the canvas bag toward the stables.
She was certain she could gather her hay and return to the cottage before the rain began to fall in earnest.
As she hauled the mattress up the road and across the field toward the stables, Athdara realize that this was the first time in years that she had felt a sense of safety and purpose.
She wasn’t running from anyone, nor was she living her days in panic.
It was the first time since fleeing Breda that there was a measure of stability in her life, even if she was living in a stranger’s cottage.
Since her uncle had tried to kill her entire family, she had been in flight-or-fight mode.
But now, at a training guild for warriors, she was finally experiencing her first measure of peace in many years.
It was all rather astonishing.
Help from well-meaning strangers had made all the difference.
Of course, her father had something to do with it, too.
Quite honestly, he had everything to do with it.
She would have never been admitted to Blackchurch without her father’s relationship to St. Denis.
That was the only saving grace of this situation.
But the kindness of St. Denis and the initiative of Tay when it came to helping her find her way was something she could never repay.
The only way she could think to do it was what she was doing now—by taking care of Tay’s house, by being useful, and by learning everything she was about to be taught.
By being diligent and grateful, she hoped that those at Blackchurch would know just how much their kindness and loyalty meant to her.
It meant she could get her life back.
The stable loomed ahead, and as Athdara drew near, she could see what a busy place it was.
Not surprisingly, there were many stable servants and horses being serviced.
She slowed her pace as she approached the first bank of stables, where a couple of stable servants were brushing out a big bay stallion and a smaller gray palfrey.
The servants saw her approach, slowed their movements, and watched her with great curiosity as she came to a halt and explained what she wanted.
Since she didn’t want them to deny her—which was quite possible, since they had no idea who she was—she invoked the name of the Leviathan, and they seem to be more than willing to give her all the hay she wanted.
In fact, the two servants dropped what they were doing and helped her stuff that big canvas bag.
They stuffed it until they could stuff it no more.
With a mattress full of hay, Athdara had to drag it back to the cottage.
It was probably a half-mile from the stables, and by the time she reached it, the rain was starting to come down in sheets.
She lugged the mattress up to her chamber and put it on the bed, pleased that she finally had something decent to sleep on.
It was just an old, dusty mattress, but to her, it seemed like heaven.
The next step was linens, and she had seen some in the old closet where the trunks were. She managed to find a very old, very worn coverlet that was shoved into one of the trunks. She didn’t know whom it belonged to, but she didn’t think Tay would mind if she used it.
As the storm outside began to thunder, Athdara put an old iron pot on the hearth and went about finding kindling, which was quickly located.
There were also two buckets by the back door that looked as if they had not been used in quite some time, and she used those to haul water back from the well in the village square.
All of that water went into the pot on the hearth, and when it started to boil, she put the coverlet into the water.
With the fabric boiling away, she turned her attention to the chairs that she’d brought in from behind the cottages.
She was attempting to repair one of them when the front door opened and Tay came through.
He was soaking wet, but the moment he saw all of the activity in the common room, he came to a surprised halt.
“What goes on here?” he asked.
Athdara had been sitting on the floor, trying to mend the chair. She put it aside, standing up and brushing off her hands.