Chapter Three #4
Oddly enough, she was relieved to see him. At least it wasn’t a lustful soldier. “Nay,” she replied. “I am not ill.”
His bewilderment grew. “Then why are you down there?”
She sighed heavily. “Because the bed is covered with vermin,” she said. “I will not sleep on it.”
Gates’ brow furrowed and he set the basket down next to the hearth even though his focus was on the bed.
It was clear that he intended to see what she was talking about.
But the moment he set the basket down, he had a clear view through the open hearth of the sexual adventures happening on the other side and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
He hadn’t noticed the grunting noises until now, realizing where they were coming from.
His first instinct was to berate his men for doing such a thing in full view of Lady Kathalin but the dirty bed still had his attention.
As long as it was crawling with bugs, the lady couldn’t, and wouldn’t, lay on it and he didn’t blame her.
With a grunt of pure frustration, he picked up the entire bed and shoved it through the doorjamb as the soldiers outside the door moved to help him.
But he pushed those men aside as he made his way to the loft where the carnal activities were happening.
Using deep and threatening tones, he snarled at his men for their passionate display.
The wench, still lying in front of the hearth with her legs spread, was unceremoniously hauled to her feet by one of the soldiers not participating in the activity and chased off as Gates berated his men for their behavior.
Like scolded children, the lascivious – and nearly drunk – soldiers backed off and cowered away from de Wolfe’s rage, for certainly, no one wanted to enrage him.
He was a fair and affable man most of the time, but this was not one of those times.
In moments like this, he was a man to be feared and obeyed.
Inside the tiny chamber, Kathalin heard de Wolfe’s scathing cut-down of his men.
Curious, she peered through the hearth to see men scrambling on the other side, moving away from de Wolfe, who was standing there with the entire bed still in his hands.
She could see the foot of the bed as he held it.
Then, he disappeared and his men gathered in quiet groups, muttering amongst themselves now that they no longer were permitted the evening’s activities.
The situation quieted down in a hurry and Kathalin wasn’t quite sure what to think of any of it.
With no bed in the now-empty room, the big basket de Wolfe had been carrying was now by the door.
The coverlet or garment he’d had thrown over his shoulder was tossed on top of the basket and, hesitantly, she peered at the garment to see what it was.
Unable to make a determination, and wondering if de Wolfe would be cross at her for her curiosity, she backed off, unwilling to provoke the man who could wield a bed so easily.
She knew he was a man of tremendous strength, as he’d demonstrated from the beginning, but it would seem his strength and determination knew no boundaries.
That had been clear from the start. With that thought, she huddled back into her corner and waited.
For what, she wasn’t sure, but something told her de Wolfe would be back.
She was right.
Close to an hour after he left, Kathalin heard muffled conversation on the other side of the chamber door.
She had been dozing, head back against the wall, when she heard the buzz of conversation and by the time she lifted her head, the door was opening and de Wolfe was reappearing.
Behind him came a serving wench, tray in hand, and behind her came the innkeeper and another man, obviously a servant from the manner in which he was dressed.
As Kathalin watched with great interest, de Wolfe directed the people into her chamber.
The wench went straight to Kathalin and set her tray down at the woman’s feet before scurrying out.
Meanwhile, the innkeeper and the servant were carrying great bundles between them and as they laid them out on the floor where the bed had once been, Kathalin could see that there was a mattress of sorts and bed clothes.
The bed frame was gone, but there was a big, full mattress on the floor now.
There were also at least four heavy blankets that she could see and the innkeeper assured de Wolfe, who was standing near the hearth with his big arms folded imposingly, that these bed things were without vermin.
He apologized profusely that the original bed had been so unacceptable.
Then the man said something about a bath before fleeing the room with his servants.
It was a word that had Kathalin’s full attention.
A bath meant warm water.
Heat.
“A bath?” she said as the door closed behind the innkeeper. “Is there a bathing room here?”
It was the first time during the entire journey that she had spoken more than just a couple of words and Gates turned to see the expression of hope in her face. He shook his head.
“There is no bathing room in this establishment that I am aware of, my lady,” he said.
“But he has a barrel that has been used for bathing in the past and he will be bringing it up here to you. I thought that mayhap a bath would be in order since you have been afforded little luxury on this trip. In fact, since we left St. Milburga’s without your possessions, I have purchased a few things that you can possibly use. ”
As Kathalin watched, he went to the big basket he had brought in earlier and picked up the garment that was strewn across it. He held it up for her to see.
“I found a merchant in town who sells all manner of goods,” he said, shaking out the cloak. “His wife is a seamstress and she had this cloak available for sale. It is wool and lined with fox, but she says we should not get it too wet lest the fox fur will rot.”
There was a hook on the back of the chamber door and he hung the cloak up, removing the lid of the basket, and proceeded to pull out the dark blue garment and the lavender one. He held them up for her inspection.
“I took the liberty of purchasing three surcoats for you,” he said. “The seamstress does not finish the garments and she said that you could, according to your fit. She even included a sewing kit. There are shifts and hose and shoes, and there is even soap. You can use it when you bathe.”
By this time, Kathalin’s mouth was hanging open somewhat as Gates pulled out the shifts and the hose, all of it draping over his enormous arms as he tried to show her what he had purchased for her. Stunned, she looked rather bewildered at the items he was holding up for her.
“These…,” she said hesitantly. “These are for me?”
He nodded, still looking in the basket at the shoes at the bottom. “You have nothing,” he said. “I thought you might need these things.”
Kathalin had no idea what to say or how to react. She looked down at the dirty brown wool she was wearing. “I…,” she started, stopped, and started again, evidently very confused about the entire situation. “I do not need those fine things. I have no use for them.”
Gates looked at her. “The garment you are wearing is soiled,” he said. “Surely you would like to wear something clean and warm.”
She was still looking at the clothing she was wearing. “I can wash this,” she said. “Mayhap… mayhap after I bathe, I will wash this in the bath water and hang it before the fire. It should be dry by morning.”
Gates couldn’t quite figure out why she wasn’t incredibly excited over new clothing.
“But these garments are much nicer,” he said.
“Would you not like to wear something pretty? Those garments you are wearing do nothing for your beauty, my lady. In these new clothes, you would look every bit an earl’s daughter. ”
She looked at him, then, utterly perplexed. “Beauty is a worldly and sinful thing,” she said, her voice faint but insistent. “I should not like to accentuate it.”
Now, it was starting to occur to Gates why she wasn’t thrilled with her new clothes.
Raised in a priory, she more than likely had never seen such finery and if she had, then he could only guess that it was frowned upon.
He had to remind himself that all she had ever known was a simple life and lived in simple, undistinguished clothing.
Pride in earthly possessions had no place inside a convent.
“That is what you have been taught, is it not?” he asked softly.
Her brow furrowed as she thought on an answer, uncertain how to reply. “We are taught to reject worldly vanities, for they are evil,” she said. “The world is an evil place. It is only safe within the walls of St. Milburga’s.”
Poor child, he thought. So she was raised like an animal.
All that aside, however, he was glad that she was speaking to him for it gave him a chance to at least establish a rapport with her.
They hadn’t had that in two days. Perhaps it would ease the tension between them if he were to draw her out in conversation.
“May I ask a question, my lady?” he asked, watching her nod hesitantly. He continued. “Do you think God created the world to be an evil place?”
She was thoughtful in her reply. “He did not create it to be evil, but Mankind is evil,” she said. “They have created an evil world.”
“All of it?”
“Most of it.”
“How would you know this if you have never been out of the convent?”
She pondered his question. “I have been told that by people I trust,” she said. “By Mother Benedicta.”
“The Prioress?”
“Aye.”
He cocked his head curiously. “Don’t you think you should find out for yourself if it is evil or not?” he asked. “There are thousands of people in the world and they all cannot be evil. Mayhap you should learn for yourself before making a judgement.”
She shrugged, looking back to her rough woolen clothing. “I have never wanted to learn for myself.”
“Why not?”