4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“ Y ou weren’t joking when you said we had to walk down one hundred and sixty steps to turn around and walk back up them immediately.” Jane held her side, sucking in air as she tried to catch her breath.
“Did you think I was exaggerating?” I looked back at her. She was bent over at the waist, hands on her knees, fighting to breathe. I offered her advice I had been given long ago: “You know, if you breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, it will help you catch your breath.”
“Sure—tell—me—that—now.” Each of her words was punctuated by a quick intake of air.
“Try it, and fast. My uncle is coming.”
I barely recognized the man approaching me. There were some similarities to my father, like the long nose and square jaw, but the similarities stopped there. In all my memories of my father, he was a jovial man with unruly bright red hair that defied order, sticking out in every conceivable direction. His brother—my uncle—presented a completely different image. His hair, a blend of salt and pepper, accentuated a seriousness about him that I could only characterize as foreboding.
“My niece, Rowan, it’s wonderful to see you. Even if it is under these terrible circumstances.” He held out his arms like I was supposed to catapult myself into them for a hug.
I curtsied instead. “Uncle Jonathan, it’s been too long, I must introduce you to my companion, Lady Jane. I’m sorry, what do you mean terrible circumstances?” I looked around as if I was searching for someone. “Where is my father?”
He paused, staring down at me, his facial muscles shifting until he appeared to be concerned. “You haven’t heard.”
I took a step back. “Heard what?”
“Oh dear.” He pulled on the back of his neck, acting like he didn’t want to say anything else. “I’m so sorry. I hate to be the one to do this. But, your father has left this world. I’m shocked the nuns didn’t tell you.”
I gasped at his words and raised my hands to my face in what I hoped was an appropriate reaction to hearing the news of my father’s death for the first time.
As he took my hands in his, I wanted to flinch away but was worried that would make him suspicious. Instead, I looked around the top of the cliff where the keep sat. It was vastly different on this side of the steps. The hustle and bustle around the keep created a convivial atmosphere. The stone buildings stood tall around it, the chapel and great hall competing with each other for which one was the tallest.
The difference in the atmosphere from the town of Lockersley shook me to my core. How could life be so vibrant here in the keep, and so desolate in town? Lockersley had been abandoned by its ruler, left to rot until it no longer existed. But I had been taught from a wee age that the townsfolk were my people. It was my job to look out for them, make choices that benefited them. It was apparent my uncle did not share those beliefs.
But without the town, the keep and its people would eventually dwindle into nothing as well. My father had always emphasized the importance of the people of Lockersley. Out there were the farmers that provided food for the keep, the loggers that chopped and delivered wood to the keep, the list went on and on, from weavers, to seamstresses, to apothecaries. He never exaggerated when he spoke of the importance of the town in keeping the castle up and running. If they were gone, we wouldn’t have any of the essentials to survive.
It was clear my uncle did not have the same values. As I walked inside the great hall, I noticed all the new tapestries lining the walls. They were stunning, picturing the lore of the last battle of the dragons, but those must have cost a small fortune. The amount of people they could have fed made my stomach churn.
I clutched my stomach as I wandered through the great hall, my uncle blathering on about something or other, but I couldn’t manage to decipher whatever it was he was saying. My mind raced with other thoughts.
“Are you okay?” Concern was apparent in Jane’s tone, even though she spoke quieter than a whisper.
I glanced over at her. “This isn’t right, the room; it’s beyond extravagant while people are starving, unable to make repairs on their homes. Jane, they don’t have enough money to run their businesses so the market sits empty. And yet, these tapestries are new and I would guess foreign—the silk threads are not something I’ve seen used around here. ”
The more I scanned the great hall, the more the flamboyance of the room revealed itself. The throne, new and resplendent, had been crafted with an unapologetic abundance of gilding. It bore no resemblance to the locally sourced items my father typically favored.
Back in the day, he consistently supported local tradespeople for new furniture or décor for the keep, resulting in a collection characterized by its beauty in simplicity—crafted from trees grown nearby, shaped by the hands of local carpenters. However, within this room, all remnants of that authenticity had vanished. All remnants of my father had vanished. As I took it all in, tears threatened the corners of my eyes. My yearning to return home, once so fervent, now collided with the harsh reality that everything that had once made the keep feel like home was no more.
I turned, ready to run out of the room and go somewhere, anywhere but where I was, but Jane grabbed me before my uncle could even sense my desire to be here was gone.
“You cannot run. Later we can discuss what to do, if anything, about this. But right now you have to remember your uncle is in charge,” Jane said, her voice so quiet only I could hear her.
“Well, he shouldn’t be. My father sent me to the nunnery because he was going to hand over the throne to me.” I gestured around the room. “None of this would be here if I was the one in charge.”
“That may have been his intentions, but it doesn’t look like he followed through with his edict. If he had, you would have a lot more responsibility,” Jane said as she moved through the room, following my uncle.
I huffed and followed. Jane was right; I didn’t like it, but I had to agree with her.