Chapter 8
Despite Ailsa’s hope, Anders’ visit with her friends earlier that morning hadn’t cured his frustration at being confined to the herbal.
Given what he’d heard and how he thought it might apply to him, the visit had made him even more restive and anxious to get outside.
Was Maesie working in the kitchen by now?
If he could talk the guard outside his door into letting him out of this chamber, he might be able to convince her to let him wander about the walled kitchen garden, even if he had to do it with the guard on his heels.
Moving about would strengthen his injured leg.
And he might learn more about how to escape the Sinclair castle.
Ailsa had left with her friends, and he didn’t know how long she’d be gone. Surely she had duties for the clan to deal with.
Mind made up, he opened the herbal door, expecting to be challenged and ready to plead for some time outside.
Where was the guard? Had something happened to call him away?
Anders hadn’t heard any shouting, but the herbal window didn’t look out onto the bailey, and with the door closed, even voices in the great hall were muted.
The hallway was empty. He closed the door behind him and headed for the kitchen.
It was a busy hive of activity, and he didn’t see Maesie, but he could see out to the kitchen garden through an open doorway, so he simply walked in that direction.
With each step he took, he inhaled the tempting scent of roasting meat, baking bread, and some sort of stew.
The kitchen fell quieter and quieter as he moved through it.
By the time he reached the open doorway, silence reigned, and his stomach was grumbling.
“Are ye hungry, lad?”
Resigned, he turned and looked at the Cook, a middle-aged woman of generous girth. She was frowning at him, but the lasses who were supposed to be preparing the next meal with her all had their gazes on him, too, only they were smiling. And sighing. Then hiding their smiles behind bashful hands.
“Ye’d be the lad Maighread and Ailsa have been caring for, aye?” Cook asked. “Maesie described ye to us.”
Anders gave her his best smile and a shallow bow. “I would. My name is Anders. Thank ye,” he said and paused to let his gaze travel the kitchen to take in every lass working there, “and all of ye, for taking such fine care of me. Yer good food has helped me heal all the faster.”
At his acknowledgement, the lasses began to trade glances with each other, sigh more sighs, and send more admiring glances his way.
“I’m of a mind to spend some time outside on such a pretty day,” he added.
“I will take care no’ to step on any of yer garden, Cook.
I ken how important it is.” That seemed to win her over, at least a little.
She nodded, gave him a thin smile, then clapped her hands.
“Back to work with the rest of ye. Now.”
Anders knew he’d better move on or she might be calling for guards with her next breath.
“Have some stew and fresh-baked bread, at least, before ye go wander about, aye? ’Tis time for the midday meal.”
Or maybe she would not. “I would enjoy that, Cook. It smells delicious.” But if he tarried here and the guard found him, he’d never get outside.
“Sit down, over here,” she said and pointed to a small, square table off to the side.
He knew when he was boxed in. He may as well enjoy the meal she offered, even if it meant missing out on where he’d wanted to go. He dared not give the clan’s Cook any reason to distrust or dislike him. Hers was an important voice in clan life. She could be an ally.
In moments, he was happily spooning up a rich venison stew, soaking up the sauce with warm, buttered bread, and washing it down with ale. “I canna recall the last time I ate so well,” he told Cook when he finished.
She laughed, making him certain she knew about his memory loss.
He gave her a sheepish grin, stood, and took her hand. “Thank ye for yer care. I do appreciate it.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles.
“None of that, my lad. I’m easily yer mam’s age.”
He gave her a gentle smile. “I wonder if she can cook half so well.”
Maesie entered the kitchen as he spoke. Anders supposed she’d been in the great hall helping to set up for the midday meal.
“Ach, Maesie, come show Anders the gardens ye are so proud of.”
“Of course,” Maesie answered and hurried over, mouthing, what are ye doing out here? while the cook turned away from her and back to him.
Cook shooed Anders away. “Out with ye. Enjoy some sun while the day lasts.”
Grateful that wherever the guard had been when Anders looked out the herbal door, the man hadn’t bothered to check on his charge when he returned to his post or he would have found his missing prisoner by now.
Anders stepped out of the kitchen with Maesie and took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the bright sunshine.
The day was as warm and lovely as it had appeared from the herbal’s window.
He exhaled a sigh of relief to be out of doors, out of the same four walls.
He would always remember how well he’d been treated there, but he was past the point of needing to be confined.
Now they did it for their safety, not his health.
Boden thought he could be a threat. Perhaps others did, as well.
Maesie took a few steps down the path from the kitchen door, stopped and beckoned for him to follow her.
She walked the paths between the planted beds, some now harvested and empty of anything green, others wilting from the cooling changes in the weather, and others more suited to cold still thriving.
But frost would damage even those. “A few weeks or a month, I think, ’till the frost.” She took a deep breath.
“Ye can smell it. The trees are starting to show their colors and drop their leaves. The scent in the wind is different when it blows from the land side.”
Anders had never thought of the scent of the air being a harbinger, but the way Maesie described it, it made sense.
He stepped down onto the gravel path that ran straight through the garden toward what he assumed was a postern gate. He could see the tops of trees on the other side. How difficult would it be to escape through that gate? What lay on the other side?
“’Tis a very large garden,” he remarked. “’Tis yer responsibility?”
“For the most part, aye. Maighread also tends some of it. She and Cook have taught me well, but there’s always more to learn. We collect some herbs from the fields and woods, even near the seashore, but many will grow quite well here.”
“I’m impressed,” Anders told her. This far north, the growing season had to be even shorter than it was at home.
Like many, the garden was laid out to take advantage of a southern exposure, surrounded by walls that collected heat during the day and kept the garden warmer at night.
It also served to keep out pests such as coneys, deer, and other hungry animals.
As they walked the paths between planting areas, the lasses working in them ceased harvesting some things and plucking weeds from around others and stood.
Maesie introduced each one. Anders enjoyed meeting them and learning a little about the work they did, but his gaze kept straying to that postern gate.
It seemed familiar. This was really no different than the gardens at …
where? Suddenly, images of expansive and well-tended gardens filled his mind, the sea off to one side, a castle up on its ridge and the fortifications behind them on the other.
More gardens lay inside the castle’s walls.
He could picture them even if he could not place them.
Relief flooded him. He’d been right. For his memory to come back, he needed to get out, see more, and meet more people than he could sitting in the herbal.
Finally, they neared the gate set into the wall farthest from the kitchen. Anders asked, “Where does this go?”
Maesie shrugged. “We’ve an orchard in the next area. Beyond that is the keep’s outer wall.”
Anders stomach fell. Another barrier. He fought to hide his reaction, asking, “What of the orchard? What do ye grow?”
“Trees that bear fall fruits, apples and pears, to harvest. They’re a wee more hardy than the summer fruit trees, though we have cherries and such.
The first frost, if ’tis light, willna do much to them, but we will soon harvest all we can.
As the sun comes round to autumn, the forest throws more shade on this side of the keep, so the plants dinna grow as well. ”
“The forest’s trees are close enough to do that?”
“Aye. No’ like near the main gate. On this side, the forest is much closer.” She opened the gate from the garden into the orchard. “Follow me.”
Anders marveled that she led him through the orchard so casually, not stopping until she found a spot with a clear line of sight beyond the orchard wall. He could see the tops of firs and pines close by over the wall, and touches of gold or red as well, in scattered hardwoods.
“Ye can see the fruit is near to ripe. We can start picking in a few days, I think,” she said, her gaze on the fruit trees rather than the trees visible over the wall.
He couldn’t resist one question. The answer might mean freedom when the time was right. “Do ye ever go outside the walls? Ach, of course ye do. Ye said ye gather some herbs and such from the forest and near the seashore.”
“Aye, we do. If we're going far, we take a guard with us and go through the main gate where ye came in.”
Had she just said what he thought she’d said?
If he understood what she implied, there was a postern gate on this outer wall that they used for quick trips outside while staying near the keep.
They only used the main gate if they were going farther afield.
Though he hoped Maesie was trying to give him the idea that escape was close at hand from here, he still feared she was mistaken. He would never be given the chance.