A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) (23 page)

BOOK: A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy)
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“Aye, my lady, I know.”

“Did you know her then?”

“I was quite young when she left, but I remember her.”

For some reason, that pleased Alyna. “I miss her,” she admitted in a soft voice.

“Everyone thinks you’re a lot like her.”

“Really? In what respect?” Alyna couldn’t contain her curiosity, nor her pleasure.

“Oh, some of your gestures, the way you stand with your hands folded before you, your hair. Those sorts of things.” She bent over to pluck a weed. “How old were you when she died?”

Alyna didn’t think Gunnell realized she was now participating in the conversation. That was a major step forward as far as Alyna was concerned.

“I was in my tenth year.” Thinking back, Alyna could still remember the horrible helpless feeling of her mother’s last few days. “She took ill. I didn’t know how to help her.”

“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

Alyna shook her head and continued. “Enid and I did what we could, but it happened so fast. A healer came, but she couldn’t help either.” She chose not to mention that the healer had been Nicholas’s mother.

“’Tis a horrible thing to watch someone die.”

“It must be far worse to know they’re going to die before you help them,” Alyna said, trying to imagine how she’d feel if she were cursed or blessed, depending on one’s view, with second sight.

Gunnell bolted upright, alarm in her expression. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I know you are not crazed, Gunnell.”

“I don’t understand what you’re speaking of, my lady.”

“You have a wonderful gift, and I’d like to help you with it.” Alyna held her gaze.

To her surprise, Gunnell’s face crumpled, and she burst into tears. “Please, I beg you. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll be burned as a witch for certain. My children need me.”

Filled with remorse, Alyna put her arm around the woman. “Nay, Gunnell. My apologies. I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

Alyna guided her inside the cottage so others in the village wouldn’t see her crying. She left the door ajar to help light the dim interior and led Gunnell to the bench at the table. She searched out a vessel of ale and poured some in a small cup and passed it to the distraught woman. “Really, I’m terribly sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.”

Still sniffing, Gunnell said, “Nay, my lady, stay. Forgive me for my behavior.” She shook her head as she explained, “It’s just that no one other than my husband has ever told me they don’t think I’m crazed, and I’m not even certain he believed it when he said it.”

That comment brought more tears. Alyna rose from the table and found a rough woven cloth on a shelf. A pitcher of water sat on a small table. She poured a bit into a basin and wet the cloth. Apparently Gunnell needed a good cry and Alyna could think of nothing else to bring her comfort.

Gunnell took the cool cloth with gratitude and held it on her face for a moment or two.

“I’m certain your husband knows you’re not daft.”

“Nay.” Gunnell shook her head in denial. “You should see how he looks at me sometimes. I see these things, and words pass through my lips before I can halt them. I sound like I’m possessed by an evil spirit or crazed as they say.”

“Oh, Gunnell.” Alyna’s heart went out to the woman.

“My children.” Gunnell’s lip quivered with the effort to contain her emotions. “The other children tease them, and I know Stephen and Catherine can’t help but believe some of the things they hear. They’re not blind or deaf. They see how I act and hear what I say.”

“How long have you had the visions?” Alyna was certain if she had more information, she might be able to help in some way.

“Shortly after I had Catherine, I fell ill. I was sick for a fortnight and nearly died. At times I wanted to, as I was so miserable. I couldn’t care for my husband, nor my children. But I knew they needed me, so I fought to live. You don’t know how often I’ve regretted that decision.”

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Alyna protested.

“Oh, but I do. I’m not normal anymore. I’m not the woman my husband married. And my children, my poor children.” The woman continued to sob.

Alyna gave up on the cloth and just held Gunnell. Chewing on her lip, she tried desperately to think of some way to comfort her. “Remember the positive side of your gift. I’m sure you’ve saved many lives. After all, you saved Matthew’s.”

“But I didn’t save his life. He would’ve lived without my assistance.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment. You can’t separate what you see from how the events would unfold without your intervention.”

Gunnell drew back in surprise.

Convinced she was right, Alyna grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I think God gave you this gift for a purpose. We must determine what that purpose is, and then perhaps you can find a way to control it.”

Gunnell’s expression was still bleak. “You don’t think ’tis some tool of the devil’s?”

Alyna snorted. “If so, we’ll use it against him.”

Gunnell’s expression lightened with a cautious hope at her words.

“I would like to help you, if you’d let me,” Alyna said.

The healer shook her head, her hopeful expression warring with helplessness. “I don’t see how you could, my lady. Not that I doubt you.”

“Gunnell, I truly think we could do something that would aid you. You see, I once knew another like you.”

To Alyna’s surprise, Gunnell froze, her eyes going wide. “Nicholas’s mother,” she said.

“How do you know this?” Alyna shook her head at her own stupidity. “Never mind. I know the answer to that.”

“Nicholas. Oh, no, Nicholas.” Seeming to come out of her trance, she held Alyna’s hands. “Go. Hurry. Nicholas has been hurt, and he needs you. Go now and be quick.”

Alyna’s stomach dropped. She didn’t wait to hear more, but took off like an arrow shot from a bow. She flew out of the cottage and up the path to the keep, running as fast as her legs could carry her, praying with all her heart that her son was all right.

 

***

 

Royce surveyed the field they’d prepared for jousting one last time. All appeared to be in readiness. Now they needed Blackwell to return, and they could start the training. With a satisfied nod, he rode his destrier back up the hill toward the keep.

He passed several cottages, greeting the villagers working nearby. Up ahead, a girl ran as though her life depended on it. Curious as to what caused her to rush so, he urged his horse into a gallop, easily overtaking her.

By Christ, it was Alyna.

“Lady Alyna,” Royce called out incredulously.

She glanced back over her shoulder but didn’t pause in her flight. The look of fear upon her face stopped his heart.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“’Tis Nicholas!”

“Come,” he bid her and held out his hand.

Alyna grasped it, and he pulled her up before him. He kicked his horse into a gallop toward the keep. His stomach clenched at the thought of the boy being hurt or worse.

Within moments, they were through the portcullis and into the bailey. “Where?” Royce asked then saw him before Alyna could answer.

The boy stood just outside the entrance to the stables. He held something in his hands and examined it with great interest.

“What is it? I don’t see anything wrong.”

She looked at her son for a long moment, obviously puzzled. “Well, I thought...”

As she spoke, Edward rode out of the stables, his head turned back toward the interior of the building, his angry voice audible across the bailey. “I told you not to give him oats until after he’s cooled down. Next time, you will listen to me, you fool.”

The scene played out with painful slowness for Royce. He could see that Edward paid no attention to the path his steed took. The black horse, eager to have its head to run, jerked at the reins, stomping and snorting as it tried to gain the upper hand. Neither man nor beast saw the small form off to the side of the entrance, right in their path.

“Edward, halt!” Royce shouted.

The nervous horse sidestepped, spooked at the sight of the small boy, and reared. Edward tugged the reins in an attempt to control his horse, but still did not see Nicholas. The boy looked up, and Royce could see the fear etched on his face. The child turned to run, but it was too late.

“Get out of the way, you stupid boy,” Edward bellowed as he saw Nicholas. The horse reared again and clipped Nicholas with a hoof, striking him in the middle of his back. Nicholas was knocked to the ground.

“Nicholas!” Alyna cried as she jumped off the horse.

The boy lay motionless.

Royce’s heart stopped as Edward’s horse reared again. He urged his horse forward, knowing he’d have better luck moving Edward’s horse aside if he remained mounted. “Get back,” Royce demanded, his rage nearly blinding him.

Edward realized what had happened and tried to calm his frightened steed. Royce rode between the frightened horse and Nicholas to get the beast away from the boy. He forced the horse back into the stable and turned his steed sideways to block the entrance.

“Keep back, Edward,” Royce ordered, then leapt from his horse and ran to where Alyna was bent over Nicholas’s still form.

“Nicholas. Nicholas.” She ran her hands lightly over his body, as though unsure where she should touch him.

Royce placed a gentle hand on the boy’s back and held it there, hoping to feel him breathe, praying to feel any movement.

Nothing.

With slow and careful hands, Royce rolled the boy over. He didn’t want to make his injuries any worse, but needed to make certain the child breathed.

Still nothing.

Alyna’s chant changed, and tears streamed down her face. “Please, oh please.”

Royce lifted Nicholas and tilted the boy’s head back. A gentle rush of air came out of the boy’s mouth.

Nicholas took several shallow breaths and his eyes fluttered open. “Mama?”

“Oh, my baby. Are you all right?” Alyna’s tears fell even faster.

Relief coursed through Royce, leaving him weak as a babe. Passing a crying Nicholas to Alyna with great care, he rose on unsteady legs and looked for Edward. The knight stood on the other side of Royce’s horse, apparently thinking it would somehow protect him from Royce’s wrath.

Several stable hands had gathered at the commotion, but Royce ignored them as he rounded his horse, slapping him on the rump to send him into the stables. He wanted to give Edward far worse than a slap. In a cold, quiet voice, he asked, “What were you doing?”

“Well, I–” Edward stammered. “That is, he–”

“This is the second accident you’ve had, Edward,” Royce interrupted. He hadn’t the patience to listen to the stuttering knight. “I suggest you reconsider your desire to remain a knight with Lord Blackwell.”

“Hold, Royce. You know not of what you speak. I accept no blame with either of these incidents,” Edward protested.

“And therein lies the problem.” Royce shook his head in disgust. “Lord Blackwell will decide the outcome of this. Now be gone from my sight before I treat you as you have others.” Though Royce’s voice remained quiet, his meaning couldn’t have been clearer.

With his face bright red, Edward backed away, then left through the rear entrance of the stables, his horse in tow. The knight hadn’t bothered to ask after Nicholas before taking his leave.

He clamped down on his temper as best he could and turned to check on the boy.

Alyna still knelt on the ground holding her son, her hand running over his face and hair. Though still pale and crying, Nicholas’s color had improved. Despite his own tears, he rested a hand alongside his mother’s cheek in an attempt to comfort her, making Royce’s heart squeeze.

“Where’s my butterfly?” Nicholas asked, his voice catching.

“Is that what you had? The butterfly is fine. It flew away,” Alyna answered.

Warmed by the love the two shared, Royce couldn’t help but smile. “Let us take you inside to examine you more closely.”

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