All Fall Down (16 page)

“A bit, yes,” I admitted. “And it does leave a small scar—but nothing like what getting the actual pox could do.” Despite myself, I gave a small shiver. I had seen villages ravaged by the pox in Purth and the remoter areas of Farendon. Although the Order had done its best to make sure the vaccine got out to everyone, in some cases places were simply too remote—or superstitious fear kept others from receiving the healing gift. And when it came, the pox left scarring, injury, and death in its wake.
 

“It seems you have quite the treasure here, Lord Shaine,” said Lady Yvaine, although her sour tone belied the implied praise of her words. “I can see now why Lord Arnad wanted her so badly.”

Once more my cheeks flamed with color, and I had to clench my hands within the heavy velvet of my skirts to prevent myself from throwing a retort back at her. I knew her words had been calculated to wound. For whatever reason, she had decided I was an enemy...or a threat.

Lord Marten had the good grace to shoot a look of annoyance at his wife, while their daughter’s eyes opened even wider, and poor Larol suddenly seemed very interested in the toes of his boots. Auren’s dark brows drew together, but Lord Shaine forestalled the outburst by saying, with far more equanimity than I could have mustered,

“Indeed, Lady Yvaine. I believe the gods smiled the day she was brought to us.”

Fairly caught, it was all Lady Yvaine could do to muster a sickly smile. I could tell she wanted to lash back out at Lord Shaine, but causing a scene with her son’s future father-in-law—at a Midwinter gathering, no less—would doubtless cause a rift that might take years to heal.

“In fact,” he went on, blue eyes pensive, as if he had no idea how irritated Lady Yvaine actually was, “I have often thought that perhaps it would be best to free her.”

That comment made me turn abruptly to look up at him. He seemed serious, as far as I could tell. Surely he wouldn’t play such a cruel joke upon me. But why on earth would he make such a statement in front of Lord Marten and Lady Yvaine?

The woman’s gaze slid toward me for a moment, as if she wanted to gauge my reaction to Lord Shaine’s words before replying. “I don’t see how it would be in your best interests to free someone who has proven herself so valuable,” she retorted.

“Of course, it would not,” he replied, imperturbable. “But it would certainly be in
her
best interests, would it not?” And with that parting shot he offered me his arm, and I could do nothing but take it and follow after him as he led me away from the spiteful Lady Yvaine and the rest of the startled and bemused little group.

A moment passed before I was able to find my voice. Only after he paused with me near the hearth did I manage to say, “Did you really mean that?”

“I did.” He took a sip of his own wine, but I noticed he watched me closely even as he did so.

“But—but
why
?” I faltered. Of all the things I had expected to come to pass this evening, being offered a chance at freedom surely was the last.

“Because the value of my daughter’s life—and my own, I suppose—is far greater than the trifling amount I paid for you. Because the more I thought on it, the more wrong it seemed. And because—” He paused, and his eyes were unreadable. “Because you wish it.”

That I had, for so long it seemed there had never been a day when I didn’t think on how I could achieve that goal. Lately, though, ambivalence had begun to creep in. I hated being chattel, of course, hated the thought that I could not have any say in the decisions which would affect my life. But suddenly it had become very difficult to envision a life that did not include staying on at Lord Shaine’s estate. Staying close to
him
, even though I hated to admit it, even to myself.
 

I hoped the blazing fire could excuse the flush I felt in my cheeks. I, who had never lacked for words, who always had been ready with an easy answer or calming words for my patients even in the worst times of crisis, could suddenly think of nothing to say. Instead of facing him, I looked out into the crowd and watched as a laughing Auren took Larol by the hand and led him to the dance set that had begun to form in the center of the hall. The group of musicians, who were situated off to one side just past the hearth, launched into a lively tune, and soon the floor was filled as more came to join them in this, the central part of the festivities.
 

Lord Shaine’s sharp eyes missed very little—if anything—but he remained silent as I stood there for a long moment, searching for the words that had abandoned me. But when the silence grew too awful, he said gently, “Of course, even if I freed you this night—which I have a mind to do—it would not be safe for you to leave until the spring thaw. I could only ask you to stay as an honored guest until then.”

A flood of relief washed over me. It was not necessary, then, to utter words that might shame me, or at the very least make things horribly awkward between us. I could reclaim myself, and still have time to understand where things might go next. I still had no true idea whether his solicitousness grew from a general respect for me, or from a more personal regard.
 

“My deepest thanks, my lord,” I said. “That sounds so inadequate, doesn’t it?” And I managed a shaky laugh.

“I understand,” he said, smiling a bit. “But now, if you would oblige me?” And he offered me his hand.

For a moment I just stared at him blankly, and then I realized he wanted me to enter the dance with him. Even though my heart pounded and my mouth felt suddenly dry, I knew I could not refuse. So I laid my hand in his and allowed him to lead me out to join the rest of the revelers.
 

From there the evening seemed to pass in a blur. We danced, not just that once, but several times, to the point where Master Breen good-naturedly chided Lord Shaine about keeping me all to himself. After that I took a turn with Breen, and with Ourrel, and even with young Raifal, who proved himself to be light of foot but unable to meet my eyes. Later on I saw him talking with Elissa and was heartened to think that perhaps his diffidence was confined only to my presence. I knew the dreadful secret he carried, but of course I hadn’t spoken of it to anyone else. Very likely other members of the household knew, but I was the only one to whom he had made a direct confession, and perhaps he could pretend to himself that I was the only one who possessed the whole truth of what had happened between him and Dorus.

Everywhere was light and merriment and music, the faces of people who had put aside their cares at least for this one night. And my heart felt lighter than any of theirs, for Lord Shaine had told me that I was to be free.

At length I paused to catch my breath after a particularly romping piece known as “Gray Mare.” I was dizzy enough already, so I decided to satisfy my thirst with a drink of well water and not more spiced wine. As I stood by the refreshment table, fanning myself with one hand and taking frequent sips from my goblet with the other, Lord Shaine approached me again. We had passed one another in the last dance set, and he seemed to be just as exhausted by it as I. Along the edge of his forehead his hair clung damply to his brow, and I could see the shine of sweat on his skin.
 

“Was I imagining things, or did the musicians keep speeding up the tempo of that last one?”

“Not your imagination, my lord,” I replied with a laugh. “Lady Auren’s idea, I’m afraid. Perhaps at fourteen I wouldn’t have had as much difficulty with it, but—”

“It’s even worse at forty,” he said with a grin. “My daughter does seem to delight in setting up mischief. I had hoped that young Larol would have the handling of her, but I’m afraid it’s already apparent who’ll run things in that pairing!”
 

By his expression I could see he wanted to look rueful but wasn’t succeeding very well. I knew just how proud he was of his pretty, high-spirited daughter.
 

Then he stepped into the center of the room, goblet held high. “Gentles!” he called out. “The blessings of this house upon all of you. Happy Midwinter!” He lifted his goblet and drank, and everyone followed suit. I began to regret the lack of wine in my goblet, but he certainly hadn’t given me enough warning to get something more appropriate to drink.
 

“I have an announcement to make,” he went on. “Several, actually. Of course you all know that Lady Auren was recently affianced to Lord Larol. The date of their wedding has been set—look for another celebration here on the tenth day of summer!”

Following his words came another cheer, and again everyone lifted their goblets and drank. I sighed and took another sip of water.

“Also, our present good fortune is due in no small part to the ministrations of Mistress Merys, a physician of the Order of the Golden Palm. My daughter now walks because of her, and I would not be speaking to you now if it were not for her skilled care.”

I heard Master Breen say, “Hear, hear!” and after a barely perceptible pause everyone cheered and clapped. Everyone, that was, except the sour-faced Lady Yvaine. Perhaps she thought a slave unworthy of her applause.
 

“Because of the services she has rendered this household, I wish to give her a special Midwinter gift.” He turned toward me, extending a hand, and I had no choice but to step out from my relative refuge near the table of food and drink and into the center of the hall to stand at his side. A smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, he said, “Mistress Merys, I give you your freedom.”

A moment of silence then, until someone—I believe it was Master Breen, bless him—began to clap. Then everyone else added their cheering to his applause, some of the slaves even calling out my name and hallooing boisterously. Again I could feel a blush heat my cheeks, but somehow I managed to recover myself enough to smile at them all and raise a hand in acknowledgment.

Lord Shaine beamed down at me, and I knew he wished me to say something.

“Thank you, my lord,” I said then, directing my words to him but pitching my voice loudly enough so that everyone in the hall could hear me. “This is a most wondrous gift, and I do thank you for it. And do not fear,” I added, turning away from him slightly and addressing the watching crowd. “I will stay with you here for the rest of the winter, to see you all safely through to spring.”

Again everyone cheered and I looked away, to see Lord Shaine staring down at me with a peculiar expression on his face. Something about his mouth softened, and his lips parted, as if he were going to say something else.

What he had been about to say, I would never know. For the great double doors to the hall were flung open, and the two men-at-arms who had been unlucky enough to be assigned guard duty this night hurried in.

“My lord,” said one of them, and even across the hall I could see how pale his cheeks were beneath the leather-covered helmet he wore. “My lord, it is the plague!”

Chapter 9

The hall went deathly still. For a soul-freezing moment in time, I stood there, heart seeming to have stopped in my breast.
 

The Lord Shaine spoke, and it was as if light and color suddenly flowed back into the room. “What do you mean, Graf?”

“My lord, there is a man at the gates. We did not let him in.” Graf swallowed, and his gaze shifted from Lord Shaine to me. I supposed it was natural that he should look to the healer for guidance. “He has come from Lord Arnad’s estates, and he says the plague is there.”

“The true plague?” I asked, for in some regions the practice had arisen of calling any terrible disease a plague. But there was only one pestilence truly deserving of the name....

“Truly, Mistress,” he replied, and I could see the convulsive movement of the knot in his throat as he swallowed. “They are requesting our help.”

Silence again, as I looked away from him to Lord Shaine, whose jaw tightened slightly before he said, “Take us to him.” Then he turned and addressed the rest of those watching, whose expressions ranged from fear to horror to simple curiosity. “This should not mar our Midwinter celebrations. Go on, and let Mistress Merys and me attend to this problem.”

He waved at the musicians, who scrambled to fetch their instruments and resume playing. For a moment I feared no one would follow Lord Shaine’s direction, but then young Lord Larol held his hand out to Auren, and led her to form yet another set in the center of the hall. After a brief pause, more couples followed their lead, and Lord Shaine and I were free to follow the two men-at-arms outside.

It was bitterly cold, and I wished I could have run upstairs to retrieve my cloak. Still, at least the sky was clear for once, although somehow it felt even more chill than when it was covered in overcast. Lord Shaine and his guards moved quickly, however, and at least our rapid pace served to keep my blood moving, warming me somewhat.

The gates were shut. I followed the three men up a narrow set of stairs in the guard house, to a window that overlooked the rutted, muddy lane which led up to the keep. From there I could look out to see a man waiting for us as he sat astride a horse whose sides heaved and gleamed with sweat. Obviously he had ridden hard to get here.
   

 
From behind Lord Shaine’s shoulder I studied the stranger as best I could. His face looked pale in the darkness, but I could see no outward sign of the disease upon him. I gave Lord Shaine a questioning look, and he nodded briefly. Stepping up to the window, which was open to the icy night, I called out, “I am Merys, the physician you seek. Are you ill?”

He shook his head. “No, mistress. That is why I was sent. So many are ill—Lord Arnad, his lady mother—most of the slaves—” His voice broke, and he fell silent for a time, obviously struggling to regain his composure. “It came upon us four days ago—brought, we think, in a trader’s train that came from Purth. They seemed well enough when they arrived at the estate, but one of their company fell ill within a day of reaching us, and then it began to spread—”

“I understand,” I said. Then I glanced back at Lord Shaine, whose face seemed almost too still. My own mind seemed to race frantically as I tried to recall everything I knew about the plague.