Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (33 page)

Domina stopped in the middle of the wide parkland that spread out in front of the castle. Ahead of her, the lake lay still and cold. She turned to face the castle again.

“Oh, Guinevere,” she whispered. “You must show me the truth.”

The bird squawked softly as Mina removed the hood. “I will let you fly, beauty. Come back to me if God wills it, or fly onward if there’s nothing to return to.”

She gave the signal, and Guinevere launched herself into the air, flying ever higher. She watched as the bird rose and circled…and departed.

Part of her called silently for the bird to return, to serve as a sign that there was some hope for her life with Luc. But the falcon chose the sky—she knew it would.

Still, Mina waited there, the wind growing cold and sharp around her. Finally she admitted the truth. The bird was not coming back. She had the sign she asked for.

“Goodbye, my beauty,” she whispered, heartbroken.

After returning to the castle, Mina didn’t speak a word to Luc for the rest of the day. She half expected him to yell at her for releasing the bird, but he didn’t confront her at all. Perhaps now that the truth of the marriage was out, nothing she did mattered.

She did have to run to her bedchamber, where another bout of sickness had her doubled over, retching into a pot. She prayed Luc wouldn’t see any signs of her condition. She’d rather die than tell him she was carrying his child now.

After she recovered and assumed a modicum of control, she went to her father. There she cried, furious at fate and Luc and the king and herself.

“Why can you not wake now?” she begged her father. “Why am I alone
now
, when I need  my family?

Then she spoke to him in low tones, and then she sang, her voice choked and unbeautiful.

Naturally, that was when Luc appeared, bringing Drugo in his wake. The king’s agent looked surprised when he saw Godfrey, as if he thought it was all a fiction, or that Godfrey was acting a part.

It only took a few moments of Drugo speaking to Godfrey and seeing the latter’s vacant, confused responses to convince him. “Lord, he’s in his dotage.”

“He may yet recover,” Mina said, glaring at him. “Or are you as fine a doctor as you are a falconer?” she added.

Drugo’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“You’ve seen enough,” Luc said quietly. He hadn’t gone further than one step through the door. “Let’s go and plan for tomorrow’s journey. We’ll need Sir Octavian to join us for it.”

Mina didn’t even look at him as he left. She considered praying for him to never return from the journey he mentioned, but then decided he wasn’t worth the effort of such a prayer.

“If the Devil wants him, he’ll take him,” she muttered.

* * * *

Supper was miserable, though blessedly short. Octavian looked as uncomfortable as Domina felt. He plainly didn’t approve of anything happening in Trumwell just at the moment, though his opinion was cold comfort to Mina. He must have known of Luc’s mission, yet he’d said nothing. So he was like any other knight. Well, not quite like any other knight, she amended, glancing at his deeply brown skin. But under that unusual color, he was the same—and certainly not someone she could go to for aid.

Domina contemplated telling Luc to sleep elsewhere, but to do so, she’d need to speak to him. And that she refused to do.

Besides, what if she did order him away and he sought another bed, such as Margery’s? The maid sounded quite willing to take on the nighttime duties of a wife, when she’d cheekily offered so long ago on the wedding day. Of course, since then, she’d cast her eyes on a young man of Luc’s retinue. Mina wondered if that young man would repudiate Margery as well, simply for serving the de Warewic family. And what of Constance, who felt such affection for the soldier Ban? Lord, how many people would be hurt by this debacle? Mina knew Constance would be heartbroken if her beau left…as seemed likely.

Unless Luc didn’t intend to give up Trumwell Castle. Perhaps Domina would be the one forced out. It was the far more likely outcome. He father would be moved to some other place to die—assuming the journey there didn’t kill him. Domina could expect arrest, then the humiliation of a trial, followed by execution or banishment. She held no hope of being found innocent of whatever charges would be brought against her. She was a woman with no money, no allies, and no champion…facing the king himself. There was only one way such a fight would end.

If the king was feeling merciful, perhaps she’d be allowed to live out her days in a nunnery somewhere, never to leave the pale after being forced to take vows. Her marriage would be annulled, leaving Luc free to take another, more useful bride.

Mina put a hand on her still flat belly. What would happen to her completely innocent child? Would Luc take it from her? Not likely—he’d want nothing to do with such issue, for it would be illegitimate and a reminder of how he’d once slept with a traitor.

“Mina?” Luc was there in the room, speaking to her. “Mina, please listen.”

She hadn’t heard a word he’d been saying.

“Mina, I’ll be back in four days. Perhaps three. You have nothing to fear.”

She laughed harshly.

Luc sighed. “Very well, I admit there may be some…difficult moments ahead. But I won’t let any harm come to you.”

She finally looked him in the eye. “You already have.”

Luc looked as if she’d knifed him. Mina merely shook her head and turned away. “I’m going to sleep. Kindly don’t say another word to me. And if it’s not completely clear, you may never touch me again.”

Luc said nothing, not even when Mina climbed into bed and pulled the cover tight around her body. Why did silencing him feel like a defeat instead of a victory?

* * * *

When Mina awoke in the morning, she was alone in the bed. She reached out and found the mattress cold. He’d got up some time ago, and left without a word to her. Without a touch. Just as she ordered.

A wave of nausea rose up. She barely made it to the chamber pot in time. She sank down to the floor as the worst of it subsided. Lord, how was she to endure this once her condition became known?

If only she could fly away as easily as the falcon had. Then the answer to her predicament came to her like summer lightning. Of course.

Mina sighed in relief, then summoned Constance. The maid listened to Mina’s proposal, her face slowly growing pinched and pale as she understood exactly what Mina intended to do.

“Oh, my lady,” she said. “Is there any other way?”

Mina said, “This is the only solution I see for the moment. You have been with me for nearly my whole life, Constance. May I rely on you?”

The maid straightened her back and said resolutely, “Always, my lady.”

“Then please prepare what’s needed, and tell no one.”

“Will
you
tell no one?”

“Who can I tell?”

“Your cousin!”

Mina paused. Unburdening herself to Joscelin held undeniable appeal. Yet by telling him her plans, she risked putting him in danger too. “What he doesn’t know, he can’t be accused of participating in. I don’t dare tell him. Not yet.”

Constance bowed her head. “As you wish, my lady.”

“Help me dress, then carry out what I’ve ordered. And be careful. No one must suspect what we intend to do.”

“Yes, my lady.”

* * * *

Mina’s plan proved slightly easier to enact than she’d feared. Luc took nearly all of his retinue with him to wherever he’d gone. Drugo and Octavian were also with him. Therefore, Mina had the luxury of not being watched as keenly as she’d been for the past several weeks. She worked closely with Constance and Giles, the man-at-arms she trusted the most. They spent two days getting everything prepared for the journey. Then, early the next morning, Mina dressed as if she intended to go hunting. She even took along Brilliant, her sparrowhawk.

She bid goodbye to Ancel, feeling a stab of remorse that she didn’t dare confide in him. The steward served her father and her so faithfully over the years. Yet she knew that he’d try to talk her out of it, which she could not abide. Further, someone needed to watch over Godfrey. Joscelin would likely return to London soon enough. He could not neglect his studies forever. She hoped both men would be spared Luc’s wrath when he discovered what Domina had done.

“My lady, it’s time.” The words came from Giles, who had ridden up to her in the courtyard.

She nodded, wishing she felt more triumphant about her next move. “Let’s ride out,” she said, as if nothing more than a day of hunting was planned.

When the small party rode out of the castle gates and past the pond, it was all Mina could do not to turn and look back. Her stomach churned with worry. For some reason, she feared she’d never see Trumwell again.

Which, indeed, might be the case. Her plan was audacious: a ride of four days’ length through a countryside torn by war and the dubious loyalties of many people whose lands they’d be passing through. With great luck, Domina and her party would not be attacked. Giles and the two other men-at-arms would do their best, but Domina knew that such a small party was vulnerable.

Despite the dangers of travel, they rode north, toward a shelter only Domina knew of. There, she’d be as safe and hidden as it was possible to be.

Four long but blessedly uneventful days later, near noon, Giles pointed to something in the distance. “Praise God,” he said. “I see the roof!”

They rode on, entering the pale of a small, secluded manor. Someone sighted the party and called out.

Giles almost sagged in his saddle, relieved that the journey was near an end.

Domina shared his relief. The decision to flee Trumwell was not one of her better ones—though it certainly didn’t come close to marrying a man who merely wished to use her until he had her family declared traitors to the crown.

Poor Giles had aged four years over these four days, terrified that the little party would be set on by bandits or worse. He’d argued at first. But Domina was his liege lady, and he capitulated, agreeing to escort her and Constance to the manor of Pencombe.

Pencombe was modest, not much more than a house with a few farm buildings nearby, all surrounded by a rough wooden fence. The manor had been established decades ago by Domina’s mother’s family. The forest around Pencombe was lush and virgin. Tall trees were harvested for timber, and the rarer cherries and ash sold to the makers of fine furniture. Some of the wood from Pencombe’s forest now rested in the great homes of the royals on the continent.

But over time, there was less profit to be made, and it no longer made sense to keep all the foresters and servants and villeins at the manor. It became the private retreat of the family, sometimes used as a hunting lodge, though it was underused even for that. In the end, Domina’s mother came to hold it in her own name, and she decreed it be passed directly to Domina as well. Since the manor was entirely separate from any dowry, and because no one particularly valued it, Pencombe was not listed among Domina’s bridal goods.

That was why she felt safe here. Luc would never know about it. She could stay here for years.

The house and property supported only three servants now. A family of father, mother, and daughter lived here and kept an eye on the forest for their lady. Domina’s unannounced arrival startled them mightily, but she could see that the place was still managed well. Very soon after their arrival, the small manor house looked ready to host a lady. Domina and Constance helped air out the chambers and clean the long-neglected, empty hall. They swept floors, shook out bedding, and strewed sweet-smelling herbs over the stones. With a fire crackling in the massive fireplace of the hall, the last of the sleepiness was banished. Pencombe was awake again.

“My lady,” said the housemaid. She was about twelve, with a smattering of freckles across her face. “I am to ask how long you expect to stay here? And will you have guests coming? Mother, that is, the cook wishes to know how much meat will be needed until spring.”

Mina smiled at her kindly. “Tell your mother that I will be staying indefinitely, but there will be no guests. She need not prepare any feasts. If there is little meat left, we will eat more bread.”

“You need meat, my lady,” Constance interjected. “We can do with less, but in your condition…”

“Enough,” Domina said, cutting her off. “I do not intend to starve myself, but I want no extravagance.”

The little housemaid curtseyed and then hurried out of the hall.

“Speak not of my condition,” Domina told Constance. “I do not want people to gossip.”

“Who will they tell?” Constance asked. “Pencombe is a day’s ride from the nearest neighbor, and two from the closest village of any size. No one will know you’re here, let alone with child.”

“Let us pray it remains so.”

“My lady, you do not intend to stay here forever…”

“Why should I not? Pencombe is mine, is it not? My so-called husband has no claim on this property, and he should be content having stolen Trumwell from me.”

“At the king’s orders.”

“Speak not to me of the king. My family served his since the Conqueror. My father fought to keep our land safe. And how does this king think of me? As a traitor, all because of some whispered rumor? What sort of king renders justice in this way? I am not even allowed to stand up to speak for myself or my father.” Domina glared into the flames. “No, we’ll stay here, well out of politics and the business of men.”

“Yes, my lady.” Constance bent her head to her sewing again, seeing the argument was useless.