Chapter Four #5
Padraig nodded. “Both she and her brother,” he said. “They do take women if they are talented enough, and she was. The school is run by the Lords of Exmoor.”
Kress snorted. “They are more pirates than they are reputable lords,” he muttered. “They train men for a profit, but they turn out fine warriors. I fought with some in The Levant. You’re telling me that woman trained with the pirates of Exmoor?”
Padraig was amused by his disbelief. “If you do not believe me, let your friend have a go at her,” he said, gesturing to Achilles. “She’ll not make an easy victim, I assure you.”
Kress looked at Achilles, his head wagging back and forth. “Did you hear that?” he said. “She trained at Blackchurch. If I were you, I would watch my back.”
Achilles had little interest in the admonition. He looked away, taking a big gulp of wine while Alexander and Bric grinned at the man’s clear defiance at any suggestion that a woman might be a threat.
While more food and wine were brought out, Kress wasn’t particularly interested in it.
His attention turned from Achilles to his damp, sweaty body, and he was coming to think that he might like to wash his face and hands, and even change his clothing.
He’d been in the same stuff for days on end. With a weary sigh, he stood up.
“If you would tell me where we are to sleep, my lord, I would like to clean myself before sup,” he said. “It has been a long ride from London.”
Padraig nodded swiftly, calling over his majordomo, who was at the hearth trying to clean out a partially blocked chimney.
“Odo,” he called to the man, waving him over. “Show Sir Kress to the knight’s quarters and bring the man a bath.”
The old majordomo, with soot on his face, was more than happy to oblige.
As Kress gathered his saddlebags and left the great hall alone, because no one else seemed to want to go with him, he followed the old man from the keep to a series of single-story outbuildings to the south with a protected well in front of them.
They were stone-built, and heavily-fortified with tiny windows and big, iron doors, and the old man indicated the larger outbuilding to Kress.
“You and your men shall stay here, my lord,” he said. “As you can see, there is a well right here should you need water, but I shall send you heated water from the kitchens to wash. Do you require a tub?”
Kress shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “A basin will do fine.”
The old man nodded and scurried off. Beneath the light of the setting sun, Kress paused before entering the building, taking a moment to look over the vast and truly impressive grounds of the inner bailey.
The tall earthworks that surrounded the inner bailey were blocking out the sun at this point, casting great purple shadows across the courtyard, and Kress was about to enter the outbuilding when he caught sight of something scurrying from the keep.
A small figure in a cloak, and he didn’t give it much notice until the cloak blew back in the sunset breeze and he could see a pale, blue surcoat and long, blonde hair.
He recognized the figure as that of Lady Cadelyn.
Curious, Kress paused and watched her as she quickly fled the inner ward, heading through the big gatehouse with the bridge that spanned the moat and led out to the courtyard that contained the stables and other outbuildings.
He stood there a moment, wondering why the woman was heading to the stables at this time of night.
More than that, the urge to follow her was quite strong, mostly because he simply wanted to speak to her.
Perhaps he’d speak on the card she’d given him, or perhaps not.
Perhaps he would tell her that he was sorry for being rather bold with her, considering she was a betrothed lady and he was to escort her to her future husband.
Perhaps he just wanted to clear the air between them.
At least, that was the excuse he would use.
Tossing his saddlebags into the knight’s quarters, he decided to follow Lady Cadelyn’s path to the stables.
He wasn’t in any big hurry, making his way across the inner ward and to the gatehouse and the bridge.
All the while, however, his gaze was on the outer ward, the one with the stables, and over and over in his mind, he was rehearsing what he planned to say to her.
Fancy meeting you at Castle Rising, my lady?
Was there a message to me in that card you gave to me, my lady?
Damn your marriage, let me feast upon your beauty?
Alas, but no… none of those seemed very appropriate, or polite, so he thought perhaps to simply tell her it had been an honor to meet her and he was sorry if he’d said anything to offend her.
Women liked to hear that kind of thing. He was in the process of planning out something quite flattering when a horse abruptly departed the stables, several feet in front of him, cutting down the path to the north where the main gatehouse was situated.
It took him a moment to realize that the rider had been Lady Cadelyn.
Something told Kress to follow her.