Chapter Seven #3
“You,” he said, pointing to a toothless woman with dark hair and oily skin.
“You will assist Lady de Wolfe in whatever she needs. I want a bath sent up to her and food, immediately. And, you –,” he pointed to the round woman with rosy cheeks standing next to the toothless servant, “– will make sure that a mattress, free of vermin, is stuffed with fresh straw and delivered to Lady de Wolfe along with clean linens, pillows, and anything else that will make her comfortable. Is this clear? Excellent. Now go about your business.”
The women scattered but the men were still standing there and Warenne pointed to them. “You heard what I told them,” he said. “Lady de Wolfe requires a bath and a bigger bed with a fresh mattress, so get on with it. Bring it as quickly as you can.”
The men fled after the women and Warenne could hear hissing and scuffling going on as they hurried to carry out his orders.
Meanwhile, the servant who had originally shown them the room was making progress on a fire in the hearth as Warenne turned in Isobeau’s direction, seeing the woman seated at a table, her elbow on the tabletop and her head resting on her propped-up hand. He made his way to her.
“You should have all the comforts that Wolfe’s Lair can provide,” he told her. “Will you be all right while I return to Atticus? He is concerned over his father and asked me to return to him as soon as I settled you.”
Exhausted, Isobeau waved him off. “I will be well on my own,” she told him. “Thank you for assisting me. In fact, thank you for being such a comforting travel companion. Your presence has been much appreciated.”
Warenne smiled faintly, giving her a gracious bow, before quitting the chamber.
Isobeau’s attention lingered on the door after he was gone, her weary mind reflecting on the scene down in the bailey.
She was trying to forget what she saw, how Solomon cradled Titus’ decaying remains, and how tragic it all had been.
She was so very weary of reliving the grief every day, like a scab that was constantly being torn off to reveal new and fresh blood.
She was bleeding fresh blood for Titus every day, still.
After her farewells in that dark livery in Rothsburg, she was more at peace with Titus’ passing but not nearly as resigned to it as she would have liked. Still, she missed him.
Odd, it seemed, because she had been separated from Titus more than she had actually spent time with him.
The truth was that they’d only spent a couple of weeks together before he’d gone to war, so having him gone, passed on, and not around her on a daily basis was the norm in her life.
She was used to him being gone. Even so, as she’d told Atticus, she would not forget him. She couldn’t.
The fire in the hearth began to blaze quite brightly and the old servant fed it more wood, creating a rather bold blaze that began to heat up the cold room quite adequately.
Once the fire was snapping, the old servant left the room and closed the door softly behind him, leaving Isobeau alone in a darkened, strange room in a castle where her husband had grown up.
She wasn’t the most comfortable she had ever been but at least she wasn’t on horseback any longer.
Her lower back was still aching and she’d had cramping in her legs and back since they’d left Alnwick, and she was exhausted to the bone, so even as she sat at the old, scrubbed table, she lay her head down on the tabletop just to rest for a moment.
She was asleep before she realized it but when she woke up to extreme cramping a short time later, there was blood everywhere.
*
“How is your father?” Warenne asked Atticus. “Any better?”
Warenne had found Atticus, Kenton, and Solomon inside Wolfe’s Lair’s small chapel that was built into the west side of the fortress.
It was a long, skinny chamber with an altar at the far end covered in a fine silk cloth, and several burial vaults built into the walls of the chapel as well as sunk into the floor.
The families that had inhabited the fortress prior to the de Wolfes had several family members buried in the vault, now joined by five de Wolfe members including Solomon’s wife. Soon, Titus would join them.
“I am not entirely sure,” Atticus said, his eyes on his father, who was still laying across Titus’ coffin near the altar of the chapel.
“It was all I could do to get him to put Titus back in his coffin and close the lid. I am afraid if we do not bury my brother tonight that my father might try to pull him out of his coffin again.”
Warenne peered through the dimly lit chapel, seeing Solomon as the man knelt next to the coffin, his upper torso splayed across it. “Have you sent for a priest?” he asked.
Atticus nodded. “I had Kenton take care of it,” he said. “He sent two men riding for Hawick. It is about an hour away on a swift horse so I imagine we will see a priest by this afternoon. At least, I hope so.”
“Indeed.”
Atticus’ gaze lingered on his father a moment longer before turning to Warenne. “Where is Isobeau?” he asked. “How is she?”
Warenne threw a thumb in the general direction of the courtyard, just outside the door.
“She is in a chamber having a bath and food brought to her,” he said.
“You should see to her shortly, Atticus, just to make sure she is well. I am not entirely sure how well she digested your father pulling Titus out of his coffin, so mayhap you should see to her comfort. I can watch over your father until you return.”
Atticus nodded but his gaze moved to his father, who was now speaking to the coffin, to Titus, much as Atticus and Isobeau had done those days past. It seemed like an eternity ago when they had bonded in that cold livery, coming to terms with the course their lives had taken.
The next three days traveling to Wolfe’s Lair had been quiet between them for the most part; they had barely spoken but it wasn’t intentional.
There simply hadn’t been the time or much of an opportunity.
Atticus had been focused on moving them as quickly as possible to his ancestral home and Isobeau had simply followed along, uncomplaining and quiet.
Therefore, Atticus was coming to think that he should, indeed, see to Isobeau simply to make sure she was well enough.
He didn’t want her to think he was neglecting her.
Now that they were at their destination, there was time enough to rest and focus on the next step in their lives, including his pursuit of de la Londe and de Troiu.
He had not yet discussed that with Isobeau on a level that might see her joining him, as Warenne had suggested.
Over the past few days, he had grown accustomed to the idea of taking her with him; more than that, he was quite certain Warenne would not let him leave her behind.
“Very well,” he said. “I will see to her for a moment. Where is she?”
Warenne motioned to the north side of the fortress. “On the third level,” he said. “She is on the north side.”
Atticus knew the labyrinth of rooms at Wolfe’s Lair and had a good idea where Isobeau had been settled.
“Thank you,” he said, eyeing his father one last time.
“My father knows you and you know him. Do what you can for him while I am away but whatever you do, don’t let him take Titus out of the coffin again.
I am afraid my father may unwittingly damage the body in his grief and then he would wallow in that guilt for the rest of his life. ”
Warenne nodded, keeping an eye on Solomon as Atticus headed out of the chapel.
Out in the yard where a very cold wind was whipping through the grounds, Atticus came across Kenton, who was disbanding the escort party and having Isobeau’s capcases removed from the wagon.
Just as Atticus passed by, Kenton called out to him.
“Atticus,” he said. “Shall I have Lady de Wolfe’s capcases sent up to her or would you have me wait?”
Atticus paused, eyeing the collection of very nice cases that Titus had purchased for his new wife.
“Have them sent up now,” he said. “I will take one or two with me, for I am going to see her now.”
As he bent over to test the weight of the cases, finally selecting two that weren’t too heavy, Kenton reached down and collected the heaviest one.
“I will go with you,” he said. “It will give us a chance to discuss plans for the next few days.”
Atticus eyed Kenton, now holding the biggest and heaviest case. “Come on, then,” he said. “Since you must show off your Herculean strength, let us make sure your display does not to go waste.”
Kenton’s lips twitched with a smile. “Then you admit I am stronger than you.”
“I admit that you think you are.”
Kenton fought off a bigger grin. “I am the one with the bigger case.”
“That is because I am smarter than you are. I took the lighter cases so I would not break my back,” Atticus pointed out. “Good Christ, how many cases does one woman need?”
Kenton, now following Atticus up the narrow stone steps, glanced over his shoulder to count the cases that had remained behind. “At least seven.”
Atticus pursed his lips irritably at the glib reply, stomping up the steps. “When we leave this place, I will make sure she travels much lighter,” he said. “I will not be lugging around seven capcases all over England.”
They had reached the second level and mounted the steps for the third. “Then we are not going after de la Londe and de Troiu?” Kenton asked.
Atticus nodded. “We are indeed,” he said. “But Lady de Wolfe is coming with us. It… it is her vengeance as much as it is mine, I suppose. Titus was her husband as well as my brother. Thetford seems to think it is important that I take her and allow her a measure of vengeance also.”