Once Upon a Romance 02 - As The Last Petal Falls (5 page)

His boot heels clattered angrily down the hall, unmuffled by any carpet. The keep was missing so many soft touches that would turn it into a modern stronghold, instead of a throwback to medieval times. No drapes, no tapestries, no carpets; in the winter they even ran short of oil for the few personal lamps. Food was scarce when storms kept them from hunting, and just at the moment they had barely enough soap to keep everyone from the illnesses caused by filth.

Come to think of it, he was pretty sure Marlplot hadn’t bathed in over a month.

He stopped and took a heaving breath, letting it out in a rush. It wasn’t like him to get worked up over the lack of civilization in the keep. Their life was as it was, and everyone who chose to join him had made their peace with it long ago. No, he was fretting over things he could not change because of
her
.

He spent his life focused on his duty, never thinking of the hardships involved. He never doubted that it was worth the sacrifices, but to have a self-centered, pampered brat ensconced in his bed, holding her tea in smooth, uncalloused hands, reminded him of the life he’d left behind. A life that he could never claim again.

He shook his head in frustration, and then was irritated when his shaggy hair whipped across his face. He ran his fingers through it and tried to calm down. There was no point in dwelling on the lass, especially when she had probably never actually lived the life he missed. She was almost certainly a spy, sent to find them and report. It was a stroke of luck that her injury would make it difficult for her to escape unaided. He could keep her here, permanently if need be, and their location would be safe.

In the meantime he would send someone to Albion; more information couldn’t hurt. There was even some possibility that she wasn’t a spy, in which case he could release her in the spring. With that decision made, he started off down the corridor once more. He knew just the fellow to send.

“Baines, wake up, man!”

“Mgph?”

“I said wake up, you lazy sod, I’ve a job that needs attending.”

“MacTíre, is that you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I was hoping it might be a pink-cheeked maiden, with an ample bosom and a yearning for forbidden knowledge.”

“No such luck.”

“It’s a hard life I live.” Baines sat up in his bunk, rubbing the last sleep from his eyes. He was a solid man, and rough from his mountain life; the kind of man that nobles would call “my good fellow” and expect to leap at their command. Fain had found him to be a loyal and devoted friend, and full of the wisdom of his years. Baines had often given Fain the sort of council he might have gotten from his own father. The difficult life of a mountain-bred man had whittled away any falseness that might have been allowed to linger in a softer, city life, until all that remained was steadfast and dependable.

With a quirky sense of humor.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to don a dress and pretend for me?”

“I think I’d make a disappointing maiden, Baines.”

“It’s true, MacTíre, your bosom leaves something to be desired.”

“Buck up, my friend. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchens, and we’ll see about getting you a chance at some better-endowed wenches.”

A short time later, they were both seated at one of the trestle tables that stretched in front of the immense stone hearth where the keep’s meals were prepared. Even late at night there was always a small fire banked here, and it didn’t take long for MacTíre to build it back up and set a kettle to boiling.

Tea was the one thing they never ran shy of in the keep. When Connelly went to forage for the ingredients to his herbal concoctions, he invariably came back with tea as well.
Dried
tea. Fain supposed that Connelly might have a secret drying shack out in the mountains, but tea didn’t even grow locally in the wild. He’d tried getting Connelly to give up the secret of his source—the man must have a contact in the city that smuggled tea out to him—but Connelly was very tight lipped about it. He’d even tried to follow the mysterious little man on one of his foraging expeditions, but even with his well-honed tracking skills he’d been unable to do so. It was like Connelly just disappeared altogether.

Once Fain had served them each a large, steaming mug of Connelly’s tea, he began.

“Baines, how would you feel about a trip into Albion?”

The man grinned. “Travel is good for the soul but hard on the feet. I’m comfortable with the state of my soul, so I’d need a decent reason to risk my feet like that.”

“I need to you check out a story for me.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the young lady the wolves found outside, would it?”

“A bit, aye.”

Fain shared the tale told by the lass lying in his bed. Baines listened mostly in silence, only snorting here and there to indicate his opinion of her actions. When Fain finished, the other man spoke.

“So, you’d like me to check out the little lady’s story, would you? Why don’t you believe her? Sounds a likely enough tale to me.”

“Aye, I know, and yet…” He trailed off. “She
is
very believable. She seems like just what she claims to be. And she certainly got righteously offended when I told her she’d behaved just like a spoiled brat should.”

“But?”

“My guts say she’s lying.”

“Well, that’s enough for me. But my feet and your guts will have words if it turns out you’re wrong.”

“Fair enough.”

Baines gave him a skeptical look. “Who will be watching out for you while I’m gone?”

“I’ve a whole keep of armed men here, Baines; I think I’m well guarded.”

“Not from someone who will be right by your side.”

Fain laughed. “You can’t think I’m in danger from the lass! She could hardly best me in a fight, even if she didn’t have a broken arm. I think I’m safe for the time being.”

“Don’t be daft, man. A woman can carry poisons as well as a man, and it doesn’t take much strength or skill to stab someone while they sleep. She’s well placed to do you some harm.”

“ I doubt she can cook, but if she brings me a pie I promise not to eat it. And as soon as she can move without agony, I’ll put her in her own room under guard. But even
you
can’t sneak up on me in my sleep, Baines; I doubt this city lass is capable.” Fain gave his friend a significant look. One night, after a great deal of drinking, Baines had thought it would be funny to braid Fain’s hair like a maiden’s; but despite the vast quantities of whiskey Fain had imbibed, the larger man had still awoken when Baines was five paces away, and promptly pitched him head first into the water barrel.

“I still think you’d be a sight with plaits around your ears.”

“Maybe, but you’ll never know.” They smiled at each other, then Baines sighed.

“You know, she could still hurt you, without touching a hair on your head, MacTíre.” Fain looked at him, puzzled. “You say she’s beautiful, and for all you’ve done in your short life, you’ve never lost your heart. A woman can do all kinds of damage to a man, if he lets her get in too close.”

“You think I’d give my heart to a spy?”

Baines didn’t respond right away, and when he finally spoke he didn’t answer the question directly.

“I see you when we ride out to the villages, MacTíre. You watch the men with their families, hugging their wives and kissing their children.” Baines looked away and sighed, and then met Fain’s gaze directly. “Your father raised you to value family. I know that. This lass is young, and beautiful, and spirited, and of a good line. If you weren’t so sure she was lying, isn’t she just the kind of young woman you would have brought to meet him, someday?”

Fain stared at the older man. They never spoke of his father, or his kin. Baines must have been truly worried, to bring it up now.

“I’m sorry, MacTíre, I had to say it.”

Fain waved off the apology, and gave a rueful smile. “You have a point. I promise to safeguard all parts of myself, heart included.”

Baines smiled in relief. “Then, in that case, I’ll be happy for a little jaunt to Albion. I hear they’ve a new style of corset that leaves most everything free to move as the gods intended.”

“Can you leave at first light? “

“I could be gone already, MacTíre, if you weren’t keeping me here, jawing.”

“What about the storm?”

“This squall? Hardly enough snow to tickle my toes. The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back, and the sooner I’m back the less likely you’ll do something foolish with the lady spy.”

“I said I wouldn’t, man; where’s your trust?”

“I trust you, MacTíre, but if I’m missing a woman enough to ask you to put on a dress, then the situation is dire. You’re in more trouble than you think.”

The guard on duty waved as Fain passed through the gate. The men were used to his frequent night excursions, and always allowed him to pass unhindered. He’d often objected to the lax discipline, but they just rolled their eyes at him when he tried to insist that they challenge him whenever he crossed the perimeter. Finally they’d asked Baines to talk to him, and the gruff older man had settled the matter in a few choice words.

“The lads know their job. Stop trying to make them into something they’re not.”

Fain still seethed every time the guard just waved him through, but he’d stopped dressing them down. The men took it as a point of pride that they knew the keep’s inhabitants on sight, and Fain knew they’d never let a stranger in without his express permission. Which is why he’d gone out and brought Miss Wellesley in himself.

It took him awhile to slog his way through the storm. He stopped just shy of the treeline and yipped into the darkness. Grey Tip came bounding up, almost as if he’d been waiting on Fain. The rest of the pack emerged from the haze created by snowflakes in the darkness. They surrounded him as they had surrounded the lass only a few hours before. Their ears pricked forward and they let loose little high-pitched growling barks, muscles tense and ready. Fain gave a ferocious smile, baring his teeth at the pack. He knew what was coming.

It was hard to see which wolf moved first, but suddenly the pack converged on him. Fain leapt the first wolf and then dodged around the second, before the third barreled into him, knocking him sprawling in the snow. He scrabbled back to his feet and grabbed his assailant by the scruff of the neck, hauling the snapping jaws away from his throat and flipping the beast sideways so that it spoiled the leap of yet another great canine.