Page 134 of The Daughters of Avalon
Up on the ramparts, the sound of men nocking their bows reached their ears, and Rosalynde peered up to see that there were fifty men or more, ready to loose arrows.
“Have you more proof, lord? If not, I am compelled to keep my lord’s command. As you have probably surmised, the safety of my lady is my burden.”
“IamGiles de Vere,” he countered, prepared to argue his case. “Earlof Warkworth?—”
“Wait,” Rosalynde bade him. She lifted a hand to Giles and then her head to the guardsman and smiled.
She heard the frown in his voice as Giles whispered in her ear. “My dear, as beauteous as your smile may be, I cannot think it will persuade the man. He sounds like a dungeon master I knew.”
“Just you wait,” she advised.
Mindspeakingwas not something she did so well with anyone but her sisters, but she had no doubt Elspeth could hear her now that she was in proximity. Despite the lord of Warkworth’s acceptance of herdewinity, she was careful not to overburden him. So, of course, she didn’t tell him what she was doing, and for a long, long moment, there was no answer—none at all. And suddenly, when Rose feared they might be turned away after all, she heard a voice shouting behind the gates and a smile broke on her face from ear to ear.Elspeth.No matter how long since she’d last heard her eldest sister’s voice, Rosalynde would always recognize it. It was the voice of the one person in this world who’d sung to her as a babe… who’d scrubbed her ears and brushed her hair.
“Open the gates!” Elspeth demanded. “Open the gates!” And, without argument, the heavy portcullis began to rise, straining against its ancient chains.
Rosalynde turned to Giles. “See what you can do with a little kindness, my lord?”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Never in her life could Rosalynde have guessed that halloos could be as heart-rending as good-byes, but now she knew, as she stood clutching her eldest sister, her throat tight and hot tears burning her eyes.
It had been far too long—ten long, long months to be precise, and in the meantime, so much had transpired.
Elspeth, too, seemed overcome—the moisture pooling in her eyes dampening the crook of Rosalynde’s neck.
Forsooth, she had somehow forgotten how diminutive Elspeth was, and lest she be mistaken, there was a bit more flesh on her bones as well. She squeezed her sister desperately. And then, finally, after the two had stood so long that their audience began to look about awkwardly, they wrenched themselves apart, to look into one another’s red-rimmed eyes. “I cannot believe ’tis you,” exclaimed Elspeth, her violet-blue eyes twinkling with joy.
Rosalynde swallowed a lump that rose in her throat. “Yeah, ’tis me,” she said, overjoyed. “And wedlock has clearly been good to you, Elspeth.”
Elspeth’s lips curled into a secret grin. “Aye, well, as to that… I have something to show you.” And she took Rosalynde by thehand, pulling her toward thedonjon, abandoning everyone else in the yard.
Rosalynde went, only because Giles tipped her a nod when she turned to seek his gaze. He stood, smiling as he tugged off his gauntlets, encouraging Rosalynde to go. Her very last glimpse of the man who’d risked so much to escort her to safety was of him standing, with his cloak turned over his arm, beneath a swirl of snow and surrounded by Aldergh’s men at arms. She wanted desperately to stop Elspeth and go back, but her sister was insistent—and far stronger than she remembered.
Inside the castel, Aldergh was not so elaborate in design as Westminster Palace, and in so many ways, not so fine as Llanthony’s chapel, but the northern stronghold was sturdy and well fitted. There were tapestries hanging on most of the walls, and fresh rushes on the floors, the rooms clean as a bone after Willhelm got through with one. In this place, there appeared to be nothing her sister was lacking—not even a proper cauldron as she discovered in the lady’s solar. Snuggled in a great hearth there, the pot sat very prominently displayed, with an ever-ready fire burning beneath its belly. And this, she assumed, must be the thing her sister wanted to show her—but nay, they had no sooner laid eyes upon the cauldron, when Elspeth dragged her back out of the room, whisking her through the halls.
There were stone and bronze effigies throughout, many in nooks, and a brazier burning in every room. Servants bustled to and fro, carrying on the household chores, but it was Elspeth who commanded them, with her heavy ring of chatelaine’s keys dangling at her belt.
“I can’t wait to show you my garden,” she said, gushing. “Sadly, there isn’t much in it right now, for all the snow.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” said Rosalynde, feeling bewildered, because her sister was the same as she’d always been, but so very different. The Elspeth she had lived with in Llanthony had notbeen so much a wilting flower, but she had not been so confident either. How could she be? She had lived her entire life afeared for the consequences of her actions—and not only for her own sake.
Here, she called out commands as she passed. “Please make certain the guest quarters are tended,” she told one servant as they passed, and the lady nodded and rushed away to do her bidding.
She passed another and said. “Ellyn, please go see that the kitchen has been apprised of our guests.”
“Yeah, m’lady!” said the young woman, and she too, flew away in a rush.
“That is Cora’s daughter,” Elspeth explained, scarcely aware that her every word was met with reverence. In such short time, her sister had created for herself a haven.
“Cora?”
Elspeth smiled. “The steward’s wife. She is my housekeeper and my dearest friend. I do not know what I would do without her. Alas, we’ve only just returned, and the house has been in disarray for months in our absence. We spent the winter in Chreagach Mhor, you see.” She cast a glance over her shoulder to be sure Rosalynde was listening.
“Chreagach Mhor?”
“Scotia—near the foothills, where my lord was born.”
