Chapter 4 #2
Mairiana glanced down at the pale blue embroidered material. "As do I, but if it is, no matter. I had no choice but to jump."
"You are a braver woman than I."
Minutes later, Mairiana was in the fresh dry clothing. "I thank you, Finola. These clothes feel much better and they fit perfectly."
"Nay worries, m'lady. They were my daughter's, but when she married, she left them here. Though they're old and almost worn out, you're free to keep them if you can tolerate them."
"I appreciate it." These would give her the peasant look Darack had said she needed for their travels. "You may keep the silk gown if you wish. Mayhap you can clean it."
Her eyes rounded. "Indeed, nay, m'lady! 'Tis far too fancy for me to wear. The town folk would surely think me mad should I wear such finery."
"For your daughter, then," Mairiana said. "To thank her for the use of her clothing. Or you could sell it."
Finola waved a dismissive hand.
Darack barged into the room, startling Mairiana, Felix following. "Alec just walked into the common room," Darack growled low. "He and his men are searching this place."
"Good heavens! What shall we do?" Alarm rampaging through her, Mairiana grabbed her wet cloak and the pouch which contained her only worldly possessions at the moment. "Go out the back way?"
"I'll check to see if anyone is out there." Felix hastened toward the kitchen door.
"How did he know we were here?" Mairiana asked.
"He doesn't know yet. He's likely checking every establishment close to the docks."
Felix returned. "I saw a stranger in the narrow close behind the building."
"Damnation!" Darack muttered. "Do you have someplace here we could hide until they vacate the area?"
"There's a concealed priest hole in the root cellar." Felix motioned with his head.
"Cellar?" Mairiana asked. "'Twill be pitch dark down there."
Felix nodded. "But they would not find you."
"I'll be with you." Darack took her hand. "There is naught more to be scared of in the dark than there is in the light."
"Very well. I'll take the gown with me and hide it," she told Finola. "He might recognize it."
Felix carried a lantern as they descended a steep set of steps that led downward into the darkness.
Mairiana's stomach knotted more with each step she took. "How long will we have to stay down here?" she whispered.
"When they leave, I'll come to let you know," Felix said. "They've asked for breakfast."
"It could be an hour or two." She didn't know if she could stand the dark for that long.
"I'll serve them as quickly as possible."
"Can we keep the lantern for light?" she asked.
Felix shrugged. "You could, but 'tis possible they might smell the smoke from it if they search the cellar."
"I will protect you in the darkness, lass," Darack murmured.
Of course he would. She trusted him with her life. But that didn't make her like the blackness of cellars any more.
Felix moved some empty wooden boxes, then Darack helped him drag a heavy chest aside. Felix shoved his hands against the wall and a small hidden door opened. "Here 'tis. The perfect hiding place."
Bending, she peered into the priest hole, unable to believe how small it was. These had been invented during the Protestant Reformation for priests to hide in when their lives were in danger. She had never been in one.
Felix motioned them toward the small compartment. Darack crawled in first. It contained only one tiny stool. "Quickly, m'lady," Felix said.
"'Tis only large enough for one person," she protested.
"You're a wee thing," Darack said. "Come, now. We'll both fit."
She crawled inside and Darack helped her stand.
Felix quietly closed the door and all light disappeared. The sound of him sliding the heavy trunk back into place followed.
"Oh, saints," she breathed. "There is not one pinprick of light in here."
"Why does the darkness frighten you so much?" Gently, Darack stroked firm and sure hands along her upper arms as if trying to warm her. The chills covering her had naught to do with cold and everything to do with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
Facing her, he stood so close the heat of him warmed her and sent tingles throughout her body. His friendly, intimate tone compelled her to answer his question. Mayhap it would take her mind off the darkness.
She closed her eyes and tried to relax. "When I was a lass of only eight summers, I had been playing with my cousin in the castle's hidden passages.
I got lost alone and... locked in for a whole night.
There was no light to be seen anywhere. I heard all sorts of noises in the darkness.
Rats and mice, no doubt... or maybe a ghost or two.
No matter how much I screamed, no one came to my rescue.
They couldn't hear me. I felt my way along the damp, slimy walls for hours, endlessly, and I could find no doors. "
"That must have been horrifying for one so young." His hands lightly squeezed her shoulders, sending comfort and excitement through her. His concerned tone made her feel he truly did want to learn more about her.
"Aye. I never entered those blasted passages again."
"I'm sure they were searching. Why did your cousin not tell the adults where you were?"
"He'd left the castle with his da before I went back in.
You see, before we had gone into the passages to begin with, he had told me a story about the tunnels leading to the magical land of the fairies, so beautiful and filled with light and color.
The very idea captured my imagination. He said that his younger brother who had passed was living there now.
My mother had passed a few months before and I thought I might find her spirit there.
When we came out of the tunnel, he went home but I wanted to find the magical land and my mother.
That was when I reentered the passages and got lost."
"I see. Were you not afraid of the dark?"
"I had a lantern, but it soon burned out... long before I could find the magical land. I kept calling for my ma, but no one answered."
"Saints," he hissed, sitting on the stool and pulling her onto his lap. "Let's sit for a while."
Though she knew she should protest, she didn't. She absorbed the heat and comfort of him.
If only he'd been with her when she was a child, she wouldn't have been afraid.
Of course, he would've been a child then, as well, not many years older than she was.
Regardless of how young he might have been, she imagined he had probably been brave and unafraid of anything, as he was now.