Chapter Fourteen
She was sniffling and coughing.
He could hear her.
Achilles was in the common room of the inn they’d more or less confiscated, the one with the innkeeper’s daughter who looked like a street brawler.
She was big and muscular and commanding, but she’d been humorous and helpful as the wounded from the skirmish were tended over near the enormous hearth.
But the coughing wasn’t coming from them.
It was coming from Susanna.
The Amazon is sick, Achilles thought, listening to her hack.
She was sitting by herself off in a corner, eating her supper and trying to be discreet about her coughing, but Achilles could tell that she was either already ill or becoming ill.
That tough, annoying woman was mortal and becoming ill.
For a brief moment, he thought to gloat about it. She wasn’t so tough, after all.
Then, he didn’t feel much like gloating.
He didn’t dare look at her for fear she would see him and think that, somehow, he was concerned for her.
Why, the very thought was ludicrous. He was no more concerned for her than he was for a fly or a roasted bird.
Both were inconsequential to him, unless, of course, he was hungry.
The roast bird would come in very handy in that case.
Nay, he wasn’t concerned for her in the least. He was focused on his meal.
The pork pie he’d been devouring was quite delicious.
In fact, he’d asked for another helping and one of the serving wenches was happy to bring it.
She was also a little too solicitous, lingering at the table and making sure he had an ample view of her bosom.
Achilles had eyed her as a potential conquest for the evening because she was pretty, but she smelled like compost and he couldn’t stomach that from a woman in his bed. He sent her away, unhappy.
More coughing from over his shoulder. It sounded wetter now, like she was growing congested. Having devoured two big helpings of the pork pie, and now starting in on fresh bread and butter, with fruit and honey slathered all over it, Achilles was acutely aware of the coughing. It irritated him.
It concerned him.
Nay, you idiot, it does not concern you!
He told himself. Mouth full, he could see the innkeeper’s daughter moving around back in the steamy kitchen and, soon, she emerged with a big mug of something hot.
He could see the steam rising from it. As the woman walked past him, he got her attention and crooked a finger at her. She came to him, smiling pleasantly.
“May I be of service, m’lord?” she asked.
Achilles swallowed the bite in his mouth. “Aye,” he said, turning his head in Susanna’s direction but still not looking at her. He refused. “Do you have something for a cough?”
Jude nodded, her fat jowls wriggling. “Easily,” she said, lifting the steaming mug. “I was just taking this up tae the lady.”
“What is it?”
Jude held it out to him so he could sniff it. “Pressed juice from apples with mint and rose hep and honey,” she said, watching him smell it. “’Tis quite good for a cough.”
It smelled very minty. Achilles threw his thumb over his shoulder, in Susanna’s general direction. “The lady over there needs it,” he said. “Take her some, also.”
Jude spied the lady dressed in warrior’s clothing over in the corner. “Aye, m’lord.”
As the woman hustled up the stairs with her hot drink in hand, the door to the inn lurched open, spilling forth rain and wind and two knights.
Bric and Alexander finally entered the inn after having bedded down the entire escort in any warm places they could find throughout the village.
Pulling off gloves and wet cloaks, they headed straight for the hearth to dry out.
Achilles watched them put cloaks on pegs and lay out their gloves. They also spoke to the wounded laying near the fire, speaking to each man and discussing his condition. Once they had finished speaking to the men, they made their way over to Achilles.
“Well?” Alexander said as he straddled the bench and sat down. “How is the food?”
Achilles was still stuffing his face with the warm bread and butter. “Delicious,” he said. “They serve good fare here. We shall have to remember that.”
Alexander looked around. “Good food or not, the place seems rather empty to me,” he said. “Does it not seem strange that in this weather, the common room is nearly devoid of travelers other than us and a few others?”
Achilles shook his head as the serving wench approached the table to take the food order from Bric and Alexander.
“Nay,” he said to Alexander as Bric spoke to the wench about the menu.
“The food is rich and it is expensive, as is the ale. It is all stuff of quality and we will pay handsomely for it. I suspect other travelers have sought out less expensive accommodations this night.”
It seemed as good an explanation as any. When the food quickly came, Bric and Alexander dug in with gusto.
“Where is Kress?” Alexander asked, his mouth full.
Achilles didn’t answer right away. “You are not going to like the answer.”
Alexander looked at him, curious. “Why not?”
Achilles pointed up the stairs. “Because he is with Lady Cadelyn.”
Alexander swallowed the bite in his mouth, looking at Achilles with more of a suspicious expression. “In her chamber?”
“Aye.”
“How long has he been there?”
“For at least a half-hour. He took food up to her.”
Alexander eyed him a moment before returning to his food. “He was ordered to be her shadow,” he said, shoveling in the pork pie. “We cannot become suspicious when he does what he has been told to do.”
Achilles rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said. “He has been attracted to her since he first laid eyes upon her. You know this is not an ideal situation, Sherry. The man is only human, after all.”
Alexander didn’t say anything for a moment.
He continued eating, chasing down his big bites with warmed wine.
“He may be attracted to her but I have not seen him behave in a way that has led me to believe he is acting upon that attraction,” he said.
“But we will be vigilant. If he starts behaving… well, if he gives us concern, then we will act accordingly. But we will be at The Paladin by the day after tomorrow and the lady will meet her betrothed. I believe the sooner this mission is over, the better for us all.”
Achilles could only nod, returning to his drink and his own thoughts on the matter. Next to Alexander, Bric spoke.
“I asked him if he wanted me to trade places with him and become the lady’s shadow,” he said. “He assured me that there was no need. Until I see otherwise, or he tells me otherwise, I will believe that he is doing his duty in all things.”
Bric sounded as if he were defending Kress, which he was, so Alexander and Achilles didn’t say anything more about it.
They didn’t want to sound as if they lacked faith in Kress, who had always been the most noble and moral of knights.
But the truth was that they were concerned for him, fearful of what path he may choose with a woman he was attracted to.
Even the strongest of men had been known to fall.
As Achilles pondered the situation with Kress, Jude came down the stairs still holding the mug of steaming drink.
Achilles watched as the woman crossed the dirt floor of the common room, past his table, and headed straight for Susanna, tucked over in the corner.
She gave Susanna the drink that was meant for Lady Cadelyn, meaning either Cadelyn refused it or didn’t answer her door for some reason.
Kress would have answered the door, and should have, but evidently he did not.
Something told Achilles there was a reason.
His concern got the better of him and he stood up, pacing away from the table and heading to the hearth where the wounded were starting to sleep. Even the priest that Lady Cadelyn had brought with her was there, rolled up in a ball near the hearth and sleeping with the heat on his back.
Achilles said a few words to the men who were lying there, making sure everyone was comfortable, before passing a glance at the stairs that led to the upper floor.
He was hoping to see Kress coming down the stairs but the more he stared at the steps, the more vacant they became.
He was wondering if he should go up there and knock on the door.
“He is not coming down, you know.”
The voice came from the corner and Achilles looked over to see that Susanna was looking at him. She was holding the warm mug between her two hands, inhaling the steam. Achilles eyed her.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Susanna sipped her drink. “Sir Kress,” she said. “He is in Cadie’s chamber. He is not coming down. I would wager that he’ll be up there all night.”
Achilles couldn’t very well deny that was what he’d been thinking, too. Scratching his head, he meandered in her direction.
“His orders are to shadow the lady,” he said. “He is doing his duty.”
Susanna lifted an eyebrow at him. “I am not a fool, Knight,” she said. “I have eyes. I can see that there is more than duty on his mind. I have seen it from the beginning.”
Had it not been true, Achilles would have become very angry at her for it. Instead, he put his hands on his hips and hovered near her table, not sitting down but not leaving, either.
“I have not seen your lady exactly discourage him,” he pointed out. “Whatever he is thinking, she is equally as guilty.”
Susanna sighed, shaking her head. “She is young and impulsive,” she said, coughing. “Young and impulsive and an idealist. I have known her for years and she has always been like this. But when she saw your friend in Lynn… something changed. Even I could see it.”
Achilles looked at her, then. “What did you see?”
Susanna lifted her slender shoulders. “Sparks,” she said simply. She sipped at her drink before continuing. “I suppose we all hope to meet that one person who makes us spark. She has met hers in Sir Kress.”