Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (25 page)

Mary turned to Michael, and her voice ground out of her. “Get Tina to my room with a pail and the bark of elder. Quickly.” Then she was turning to the crowd with a bright smile on her face, waving. Her voice was full of mirth when she called out to them. “And now, it’s time for me to spend some time alone with my new husband.” The calls, cheers, and applause that followed them up the stairs was all she could have hoped for, but she barely registered them. She half-ran to the door, and Erik was by her side at every step.

His voice was taut with concern. “Mary, what is it?”

Tina raced into the room, a bucket looped under one arm, a pottery jar clutched in the other. Mary tossed the bucket into the center of the room, grabbed the jar, and started ingesting the bitter, dry bark, forcing it down her throat.

Michael was in the doorway. “Elder bark?”

Erik was kneeling at her side in a heartbeat, drawing the pail before her. “Poison?”

Her stomach was heaving, and it was all she could do to nod before the purgative did its work and she was retching out everything she had consumed throughout the long evening. Thank all that was Holy that she had stuffed herself thoroughly, and created a dense mixture for the poisoned mead to settle onto. If she were fortunate, she would force it all out before any had begun to take effect.

Only time would tell.

At long last her stomach had fully emptied itself, and she wearily sat back against the bed. Erik drew a wet cloth across her forehead, looking at her in worry.

“Did you think it was the mead?”

She nodded, brushing back a stray hair. “The two boys. They were the ones who took the cart from Bronson,” she explained. “I didn’t recognize them until it was too late.”

Tina was peering into the pail, poking into the liquid with a stick. “Holly berries,” she reported. “Quite a number of them.”

Erik’s eyes darkened with rage. “I will grab the boys, and –”

Mary put a hand on his arm. “No, wait,” she insisted. “I remember now the last time I heard of Gemma. It was three years ago, when your mother was celebrating your birthday.”

Erik’s face paled. “And Gemma sent her mead?”

Mary nodded. “We had so many things to eat and drink that night that I scarcely remembered it, but the engraved flask does seem familiar now. When your mother became sick, we hardly knew what of the many dishes to blame. Nobody else was sick, after all.”

Erik’s face was stone now. “All the more reason to –”

Mary shook her head. “Gemma came to your mother, just before she died.”

Erik sat back in shock. “What?”

Mary thought to that desolate evening. “Gemma was huddled in a shawl, and the room was dark, so I could barely see her. Your mother was beyond speaking by that point; she lay motionless in her great bed. But Gemma knelt by her ear and talked with her for a long while. We were beyond hope by that point, willing to try any remedy. Gemma had sent word that she had a tea that might bring some relief to Lady Cartwright. But, of course, nothing could be done.”

“And you think that was Lynessa?”

Mary held his gaze. “I think Lynessa wanted to look into your Mother’s eyes as she was near death, and to let her know just who had taken her life.” She gave a wry smile. “Just as she will want to do with me.”

Michael stepped forward. “Absolutely not. We will
not
use you as human bait to draw that monster in.”

Mary put her hand on Erik’s arm. “I am surrounded by our troops,” she pointed out. “I got the poison out of me before it could get absorbed – I will be at full strength. Once we get her into the keep, the threat will finally be over.”

Erik was shaking his head, and she clutched at his arm. “It will never be done with until we get her in our grasp,” she insisted. “She will always slither away to hide. The boys would probably rather die than give her up. We need her to come to us. And we know she will.”

Erik stroked her hair, and at last he let out a breath. “We do this my way,” he stated, brooking no opposition. “No going behind my back. No keeping me out of the loop.”

Relief rippled down her spine, and she eased against him. “We do this together.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. She slid against him, and behind her she heard Tina and Michael slip from the room, closing the door firmly behind them.

And then the world fell away.

Chapter 22

It was March third, St. Owen’s Day, usually one of Mary’s favorite holidays of the year. The craftsmen of the keep would all be celebrating their works, showing off deftly inlaid ring-boxes and delicately crafted leather necklaces. And yet here she lay, sequestered in the guest bedroom, the curtains pulled tight across the windows and the room settled in deep shadows.

Mary nestled herself deeper into the heavy blankets. There would be plenty of feast days in the coming years. Every hour she acted this part brought her one step closer to Lynessa’s final capture.

Mary knew in intimate detail just how Lady Cartwright’s illness had progressed, just what symptoms to share with Tina and Zelda at each visit. The two servants then passed the tragic news on to the rest of the staff. Mary hated to worry the people she had grown up with, but it was necessary to make the deception complete. Lynessa would sniff out any hint of duplicitous behavior.

Erik poked his head through the door. Seeing none else were in sight, he came in with a smile, closing the door firmly behind him. “And how is my favorite patient?”

Mary chuckled, bringing herself up to a seated position. “Biding well enough,” she offered. “We’re on the third day now. Another two days and -” Her face shadowed and she looked down at her hands. Her voice quieted. “Another two days was when your mother lost the ability to speak. She could only moan. That is when Lynessa arrived, in the guise of the elderly healer.”

Erik nodded, settling himself into the ornate chair by her side. “Lynessa would want to be perfectly safe before she came to gloat,” he agreed. “No chance of her deed being revealed by her victim.”

She twined her hand into his. “Still, it is hard being apart from you, when we had only just been joined.”

He lowered his head down to tenderly kiss her hand. “This was your idea,” he reminded her. “The more alone and isolated Lynessa feels you are, the more she will be drawn in to talk with you. The story is that we don’t yet know if your illness is contagious or not, so you insisted on sleeping separately from me.”

Her eyes darkened with passion. “But now that you’re here …”

* * *

Another long day, and then Wednesday dawned with grey skies and distant rumbles of thunder. Butterflies of trepidation circled in Mary’s stomach. This would be the day that the staff was told she had lost the ability to talk. Lady Cartwright had died an agonizing two days after that point. Mary knew that Lynessa would not want to miss her window of opportunity.

Her heart rose when Erik came in to settle by her side. He gently kissed her forehead, his brow creased with worry. “Michael has doubled the patrols, just in case we can catch her unawares” he murmured. “Lord Paul has done the same. She must be out there somewhere nearby, watching and waiting.”

Mary looked up at him. “We don’t want to scare her off,” she reminded him.

He nodded in agreement. “We have let it be known that Caradoc’s distant cousin is in the area, seeking revenge for his family’s slaughter. Our patrols are said to be precautions against that threat.”

Mary shook her head. “It won’t help,” she murmured. “Lynessa won’t be found. She will sneak in, like a tendril of ivy, and poke into existence where least expected.”

A thought sprang to her mind, and she gave his hand a squeeze. “When Lynessa was discussing her new plans for the great hall, she said she wanted ivy and holly there. She claimed that it would be fitting.”

He drew a hand along her brow. “Soon it will all be over,” he promised her. “Just another day or two.”

The twisting intensified in Mary’s stomach as she thought of Lynessa returning to the keep, coming dangerously close to Erik. For so many years she had trained to keep Lynessa away from him, to ensure Erik was safe.

She knew now why she had felt hollow these past days. Her mission was not yet over.

There was a rapping on the door, and both glanced up in concern. Michael poked his head around the door. When he saw they were alone he strode in with a smile, waving a scroll. “We have good news from the sheriff.”

Erik stood, taking the scroll with a sigh of relief. “Lynessa?”

Michael nodded. “They have her, down by the Folly. She was skulking around the tower when they came across her. She was disguised as an elderly woman.”

Erik unrolled the curl of parchment. “And the message is from the sheriff himself?”

Michael leant against the closed door. “The messenger swears he saw the sheriff write the note personally.”

Erik had the scroll open in his hands and sat down to read it. Mary leant over to take a look – and stopped.

Smudge marks smeared the letters – ever so slightly – to the right.

Mary kept still. She had been Lady Cartwright’s assistant for ten long years, and the Lady had been left-handed. Mary knew the challenges the Lady had with writing with an ink-dipped quill. Moving the quill to the right created a trail of wet ink behind it, and just the slightest tip of the left wrist or sleeve would drag through that ink, smearing it. It was a challenge that right-handed writers did not have to contend with.

 Mary had seen the sheriff fighting in the courtyard when the men came to her rescue. He was most definitely right handed.

Mary dropped her eyes. If Erik left on this quest he would be safe from harm. Lynessa was luring him away from the keep so she could come face Mary one on one. The further Erik was from that, the less chance he could be hurt.

There was silence, and Mary glanced up. Erik was still staring at the scroll, and then his eyes turned to hold Mary’s. She could not read the emotion held within them.

His voice was even. “What do you think, Mary?”

Mary wet her lips. It was one thing to want to keep him safe. It was another to directly lie in order to do it.

“I think if the sheriff sent this, and he has Lynessa, that you should go ensure justice is done.”

He held her gaze. “And do you think the sheriff sent this?”

She could hear her own heart beating in the silence. She opened her mouth – and then closed it again. At last she dropped her eyes and shook her head.

Erik looked at the writing on the scroll. “No, this is not from the sheriff.”

Michael stepped forward, looking between them in confusion. “The sheriff didn’t send the note?”

Erik ran a finger across the lines of words, his lips pressed together in a line. “I would know this writing anywhere,” he murmured. “Lynessa couldn’t read or write, so she had a young priest do her messages for her.” He gave a low snort. “I imagine he did other tasks for her as well.” He looked up to Michael. “The priest tried to disguise his handwriting here, but clearly this was done by him.”

He drew his eyes back to Mary. “Besides, the priest is left handed, which is clear from this letter. You and I both know that the sheriff wields his sword with his right.”

Mary flushed. “Erik, I just wanted –”

He crumpled the parchment in his fist. His voice was hoarse. “Mary, I am your husband now, and you are my wife. If we do not have full, complete honesty between us -”

She put her hand over his. “I know,” she ground out. “I swear, I know. It’s just been so long that I’ve been set on this task.” Her voice caught. “If you were hurt –”

He sighed, dropping to a knee at her side. “And I would do anything to keep you safe,” he countered. “We must trust in each other, and handle this as a team. Together we will get through this.”

She nodded, looking up at him. “So what do you want to do?”

He glanced again at the crumped paper in his fist. “She has taken the bait. She feels it would be safe to come in, as long as she gets me a distance away. So we give her what she wants.”

Mary’s heart leapt with hope. “So you will go down to the Folly?”

He pressed his lips into a line. “I will head in that direction, at least,” he amended. “When Michael sees she is approaching the gates, he can light the torches on the back side of the curtain wall. That will be my signal to come about and return. Once she gets within the gates, we can have the men grab her and hold her.”

Mary sharply shook her head. “No.”

Erik and Michael stared at her with shock. Their voices came in unison. “No?”

Mary knew how she felt with growing certainty. “I was by your mother every day since you left her,” she pointed out, “and I know how much harm Lynessa caused her. I know what the woman has tried to do to you and me. I want to hear what she has to say when she feels she has nothing to lose. I want to make sure we know the full extent of her schemes. There may be yet more traps we have to be wary of.”

Erik’s brow shadowed. “Surely we can question her at length once we have her in chains.”