Jacq's Warlord (29 page)

“Excuse me, Gwen.” Jacq stood and brushed the dirt off her gown. Both Gwen and the girl halted their progress up the steps, and turned to her. “I have need of an assistant today. Could this little girl help me?”

“Who, Annie?” The laundress regarded Jacq suspiciously. “She’s awful little. What good would she be to you?”

“I will need someone to run and fetch for me. I have a lot of work to organize today, and I’ll need someone quick to help me.”

“Well, I have no objections. Keeping her busy will keep her out of trouble.

Although, I can’t help feeling a little guilty about giving her over to you. She will likely be more trouble than help.” Gwen bent down to Annie, “You do as you are told or I’ll lay into you with a willow switch, you hear me, Annie?”

“Yes, Mamma…” Annie crossed her arms, her face mutinous. Jacq heard her mutter beneath her breath, “…when pigs fly.”

Hiding a smile behind her hand, Jacq couldn’t help but admire the little girl’s spunk. “Follow me, Annie.”

She didn’t wait to see whether Annie followed and went in search of her maid, Matilda. Outside the keep, she headed toward the kitchen, the scuffle of little feet whispering softly behind her.

“Are you a man dressed like a woman?” Annie’s raspy little voice intruded as she drew alongside her.

“No, I’m a woman.”

“You are too tall to be a woman,” Annie contradicted, a stubborn tilt to her chin.

“True, but I am a woman nevertheless. Besides, I like being tall.”

“Why?”

“Because I can see over heads in a crowd.”

“That’s a silly reason. I want to be a man when I grow up, but Cook says I can’t.”

“Of course you can’t. Besides, why do you want to be a man?”

“So I can fight with swords and ride big horses.”

“You can do that and still be a woman.”

“No, I can’t. Sir Geoffrey chased me away from the practice field.” Annie ducked her head and kicked at a stone with her bare toe. “Said it’s not seemly for girls to try to act like boys.”

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Jacq met Matilda at the doorway to the kitchen, a large steaming bucket of water in one hand and toweling fabric in the other.

“Good morning, milady.” She managed a brief curtsy without sloshing the water over the edge of the bucket. “I was just coming to see whether you would like water to wash with before you dress.”

“That was very kind of you, Matilda, but as you can see I’m already dressed.

However, I do need a change of clothing.”

“Your new dress is ready—”

“I want you to bring me a set of men’s clothing instead—something my size.”

“Men’s clothing, madam?” Matilda repeated faintly.

“Yes, I want men’s clothing. I can’t put a castle in order dressed in long, heavy fabrics. I need to move fast and comfortably today.”

Matilda looked unhappy, but nodded. “I’ll see what I can find among his lordship’s things. He and Donald are likely the only men with anything that will be long enough.”

She bobbed a quick curtsy, and then raced to the keep.

While they waited for Matilda, Jacq and Annie ate slices of bread, fresh from the oven. Jacq talked to Agnes the cook about her plan for cleaning the keep and earned the cook’s gratitude with the promise of extra hands to scrub the kitchen from top to bottom as well.

When Matilda returned with the clothing, Jacq thanked her and said, “I’ll be back in a little while, but in the meantime, I want young Annie scrubbed from top to bottom too and her hair cleaned and combed.”

“What? You didn’t say nothing about no bath,” Annie protested loudly.

“You will have a bath, young lady, if I have to give it to you myself,” Jacq said in the voice that already had the castle staff hopping.

Annie wasn’t intimidated. “But I am supposed to be your assistant. How am I supposed to help, if I’m drowning in a tub of water?”

“You will help me by smelling better. So, no arguments. March!”

Annie’s mouth was still puckered in a pout, her expression thunderous, but she didn’t resist when Matilda took her hand and led her to the tub at the back of the kitchen.

Jacq went back to her room to strip off the red dress. Rolling it into a small bundle, she placed it on top of the banked coals in the brazier. She would celebrate its demise later. For now she dressed in braies and a long-sleeved shirt and a tunic.

“Now I can kick some serious butt.” Jacq rolled her sleeves and marched out to find the steward.

After checking in several rooms abovestairs, she found William seated behind a table in a small well-lit room. His head was bent, and he was so intent on the task of recording numbers in a ledger, he didn’t hear her approach.

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“Excuse me, William.”

The little man started, his eyes wide, and a hand clutched his chest. “Milady, you nearly frightened the life out of me. As you can see, once I am dedicated to a task, I forget the rest of the world around me.”

“I’m sorry I startled you. Next time, I’ll be sure to make more noise when I sneak up on you.”

He grinned. “I apologize if I sounded abrupt. What may I do for you, madam?”

Not sure of how to tell him she wanted to take over one of his responsibilities, she bluntly asked, “Do you mind if I take charge of cleaning the keep?” Holding her breath, she waited for resistance. Instead, she watched a smile spread across his face.

“Please do. I much prefer to handle the finances of the castle. These past five years since Lady Beatrice’s passing have been a trial. We have all missed her greatly, perhaps I more than some of the other castlefolk, because his lordship gave me the responsibility of running the keep.”

“I’m sure you’ve done the very best you could,” she reassured him.

Again, he smiled wryly. “We both know that isn’t true. I’m afraid I’ve let things go a bit.” He climbed down off his stool and lifted his tunic, removing a set of silver keys from his waist. Relief evident on his face, he handed them over to her.

Jacq beamed at him. “Wonderful. I’ll begin at once then.”

“Thank you, milady.” He’d taken his seat and bent his head toward his numbers before Jacq even made it to the door.

When she returned to the hall, she gathered the staff, assigned crews of workers to particular duties and named a supervisor to each crew to report back to her regarding their progress. She ignored the stares her attire drew. They would get used to it soon enough.

Satisfied her workers were employed, she turned, ready to explore, when she felt something tug at the hem of her tunic. When she looked down, she found Annie.

“Annie, I almost didn’t recognize you,” she teased. “Why, your hair is the same color as the sunlight and all along I thought it was the color of dirt.”

The girl wrinkled her nose and her eyebrows nearly met in the middle, she scowled so fiercely. “I’m glad I don’t have to do that again until next year. Matilda nearly took me skin off!”

Jacq didn’t bother correcting the girl’s misconception. Next week would be soon enough to fight the next bath war. In the meantime, she’d teach the girl the value of a daily scrub in a bucket.

Annie tugged on Jacq’s tunic again. “Are you sure you are not a man?”

“Absolutely.” Jacq smiled down at the pretty, sweet-smelling little girl. “Annie, I need a guide. Someone who knows every nook and cranny in this keep.”

“Won’t do you any good if you don’t get them keys from William.”

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Jacq showed her the keys she still held clutched in her hand. “I can’t seem to work the clasp. Will you help me get this on?”

Annie rolled her eyes. Jacq could almost read her thoughts. Annie was starting to believe Jacq needed a lot of help.

Once the silver girdle was in place around her waist, the keys dangling against her thigh, she turned to Annie. “Will you show me the rest of the castle?”

“Are you going to clean it, too?”

“Yes, ma’am. This entire place will be cleaned from the garderobes to the kitchen.”

Leading the way, Annie showed her every nook and cranny, explaining their uses and her favorite places to hide, while Jacq made mental note of what improvements needed to be made.

As they crossed the open yard of the bailey, Jacq watched the activities of the people who were busy going about their chores. A teenaged boy brushed a horse in front of the stable. An old man shaped shoes out of leather, making use of daylight to see to his work. In the corner of the yard, a large, barrel-chested man, the blacksmith, pounded away at a shield much like the one Rufus had throw down when he’d stolen her away from her own time.

The thought of Rufus sent Jacq back into the melancholy mood she’d been determined to shake when she began her work that morning. Now she found herself searching for a place to sit and have a good cry. Noticing the small chapel attached to the side of the hall, she decided to go inside for a moment.

“Annie, I want a few minutes alone in the church. You can go play while I’m in there.”

She didn’t have to tell the little girl twice. She was off like a shot.

Jacq ducked through the door of the church, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark interior.

The chapel was small and sparsely furnished. Seated at a desk set against the far wall was the priest she had met the previous evening. At her approach, he looked up at her.

“Good day to you, my lady.” He rose slowly from his chair to greet her.

“Good day to you. Father, I’m sorry to disturb you…and I seem to have forgotten your name, as well.”

His face creased in a smile. “I would have been surprised if you

remembered…there were so many introductions made last night. We will pretend we are newly met.” He bowed slightly to her. “I’m Father Haskell. And you are Lady Jacq. I have heard a lot about you.”

“I hope what you’ve heard isn’t all bad, Father.”

“Not at all. The soldiers you rode with spoke of how brave you were and how clever.”

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Jacq gave him a small pained smile. “It was nothing.” She wandered around the small room, and then stopped to stare out the narrow window to the bailey, remembering her adventures with Rufus. God, she missed him.

“Not according to them. I am grateful to you.”

“Why?”

“I had sent a prayer to our Lord to help Rufus find strength and courage to succeed and return home. I almost think you may have been the answer to that prayer.”

The mention of a prayer caused a chill to ripple down her spine. A prayer…Father Haskell…

Jacq spun around to face the priest, feeling as though time were standing still and the great moment of truth was unfolding. “What did you say…about a prayer?”

“I prayed for Lord Rathburn’s safe return,” he repeated.

She stared at him, wondering how much she should trust this priest, but wanting desperately to find the answer to how she had come to be here.

She took a deep breath. “By chance, Father, do you know of a special book of prayers?”

The priest’s eyes widened and he clutched the cross hanging from his neck. “What knowledge do you have of such a book?” he demanded, fixing a hard stare on her, his demeanor asking for nothing less than the truth.

Jacq’s own eyes rounded at his reaction. He had as much as admitted its existence.

Her heart leapt in her chest, pounding hard against her ribs. Did the book have anything to do with her arrival in the twelfth century?

“Father, this may sound strange, but I was given a book of prayers by my great-aunt…” Taking a deep breath, Jacq blurted out the rest, “…in the twenty-first century.”

The old priest shook his head, obviously bewildered by her statement. “I don’t understand. This is the year of our Lord one thousand one hundred and fifty-three.”

“Yes, and I’m not from this century. I come from over eight hundred years in the future,” she whispered, knowing it must sound fantastic.

Instead of disbelief, the priest’s face stretched into a wide grin, and he began to laugh. He clutched at her hands. “It worked! And He sent us a woman!”

Not really understanding, but caught up in his infectious joy, Jacq began to laugh too.

“It worked! It worked!” He hopped as he laughed, and since he was holding on to her, she hopped along with him.

The door to the chapel creaked open, and a young priest peered in. “What’s all the commotion about, Father Haskell?”

“’Tis wondrous…Lady Jacq…’tis wondrous.” The older man laughed again, and then tiring, he collapsed back into his chair, dragging Jacq along with him, since he seemed unable to release her hands.

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“Brother Lawrence,” he wheezed, as he sought to catch his breath. “Leave us, now.

Lady Jacq is here to say her confession. Brother Lawrence is new to us, milady. He’s in training.”

To Jacq, the young priest appeared to be reluctant to leave them, but closed the door behind him as he departed. When she turned back to Father Haskell, she pulled her hands from his. “You said, ‘It worked’. What did you mean?”

“Don’t you see?” His smile was blinding. “You are the answer to my prayer.”

“The answer to your what?” Jacq asked. “I’ve been called a lot of things, Father, but never the answer to someone’s prayer. But you believe me?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I believe in the power of prayer. I also believe the book of prayers, which is the legacy of this keep, has extraordinary power to grant the supplicants their wishes. You are the answer to my prayer. But tell me exactly what happened when you received the book. Don’t leave out any of the details, even the smallest.”

Jacq recounted the events from the day she received the book, to the following day when Rufus had whisked her away to the past.

“You said the prayer aloud?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, frowning at the priest’s excitement.

“It worked…it really worked,” he repeated. “It is so hard to fathom. You are from our future. It is truly amazing.”

“Amazing, yes, but how do I get home?” Jacq was tired of being amazed and wanted answers.

“Go home?” The priest asked, confusion apparent on his face. “Why would you go home?”