“That you are loyal to the French king?”
Emelisse blinked, shocked. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “Who told you that?”
“I have heard it from my husband. He says that is why he is sending his army after you.”
Confusion swamped Emelisse. “Because we are loyal to Philip?” she said in surprise. That was something she’d not heard. “My lady, I assure you, that is not true. My mother is long dead, God rest her soul, and I swear upon her grave that it is not true in any fashion. Earlier, when I saw your husband in his hall, he told me that my father should have accepted his marital offer between his son, Marius, and me. It seemed as ifthatwas the reason for his attacks against Hawkstone because, up until now, we have had no idea why he should be so aggressive against us. He never gave us the courtesy of a reason.”
Lady de Wrenville stared at her before shaking her head sadly. “He told me it was because of your loyalty to Philip,” she said. “Are you saying he has lied to me?”
Emelisse nodded firmly. “My lady, he has lied. I swear to you upon my own soul that he has lied. We are not loyal to Philip. My father has never even been to France. We hold no loyalty to that country at all.”
Lady de Wrenville began to chuckle, but it wasn’t a humorous sound. It was a bitter, hard sound.
“I did not think so,” she murmured. “He has lied about nearly everything else. This is nothing different.”
Emelisse was coming to think that she had Lady de Wrenville’s sympathy, if not her loyalty. Loyalty in the sense that even she knew what her husband was doing was wrong. Emelisse thought that if she could somehow endear the woman to her, it might go even better in her favor. Perhaps Lady de Wrenville, unlike her husband, had a heart and soul.
Emelisse was willing to take the chance.
“Have you never heard of Hawk Mountain, my lady?” she asked.
Lady de Wrenville shook her head. “I have not,” she said. “What is it?”
Emelisse smiled, a gesture that was known to soften even the hardest of hearts. “Hawk Mountain is named by the Welsh because of the birds that live there,” she said. “On my father’s property rises a mountain, and on that mountain are many things– the birds, as I mentioned, but there are also caves and ponds and waterfalls. It is a magical place where I spent many happy years. Hawkstone Castle is my home and until this madness with de Wrenville, it was a wonderful and peaceful place. There are many rocks on the mountain and pathways between these great, gray rocks. As children, my brother and I used to pretend that Hawk Mountain was our castle to defend from wicked pirates or evil Welsh armies.”
Lady de Wrenville listened with a smile on her lips. “It sounds like a castle of dreams.”
“It is, my lady,” Emelisse said fervently. “There is a pond at the base of the mountain that is a color of blue you have never seen before. If you look above it, there are rocks with streaks through them of the same blue color. The pond is so blue that it nearly glows. My father says it is a magical pond, but when we grew older, we realized it was simply the rain and water washing the blue ore off the rocks and down into the pond. But Papa had us fooled for a while.”
Unexpectedly, she teared up at the thought of her father, lying dead in the great hall. She blinked quickly, trying to chase away the tears, but she wasn’t fast enough. Tears escaped and she turned quickly to flick them away. It was a gesture not missed by Lady de Wrenville.
“I realize the situation seems dire,” she said quietly. “I wish I could offer you words of comfort. I will speak to my husband about sending you home.”
But Emelisse shook her head firmly, wiping away the tears that had escaped. “Nay,” she said. “As I said, I do not wish for you to assume my troubles. The situation between Winterhold and Hawkstone has been going on well before you came here, though I will confess we did not know de Wrenville had married again. I remember when his first wife died. My father even attended her mass at St. Nicholas’ in the village of Chetfell. Our relationship with Winterhold has not always been as you see it, my lady. Once, we were neighborly.”
As Emelisse said it, she trailed off, thinking of those days. It seemed like another lifetime ago. Lady de Wrenville stood by the door to the chamber, watching her, feeling a good deal of sorrow for the young woman simply by her expression. War was a terrible thing at any time, but this… it just seemed so terribly excessive and unnecessary. She was about to say so when there was a knock on the chamber door.
Emelisse instinctively gasped, whirling in the direction of the door even as she backed away from it. Lady de Wrenville rushed to the door, listening for sounds on the other side.
“Who comes?” she demanded.
“Matilde, my lady.”
Lady de Wrenville yanked the door open, admitting one of her well-dressed maids, who had laundry stacked in her arms. Behind her came food, drink, a copper tub, and buckets of hot water. Lady de Wrenville organized them like a master sergeant,directing the servants to set down the food and drink, to fill the tub, and sent others off for still more items.
It was an efficient army.
Emelisse watched from her position back by one of the windows in the chamber. It was the one that Lady de Wrenville had opened and, having enough of the chill wind, she shut the shutters as a servant started a fire in the hearth. Wood was laid down first but it was followed by big chunks of black coal, so prevalent to the area. Once the wood started burning, it ignited the coal, and the servant piled more on. Soon, Emelisse could feel the first strains of heat wafting into the chamber. Just as she headed for the hearth, holding out her hands to warm them against the glow, Lady de Wrenville caught her attention.
“Now, my lady,” she said briskly. “We shall bathe you and feed you. It is the least we can do after your harrowing day.”
Emelisse had to admit that it sounded good. Certainly, she was in the bosom of the enemy, but she was cold and hungry, and filthy from having rolled around on the floor of the great hall. There was some trust established with Lady de Wrenville, so she would permit the woman to tend to her needs.
But there was something else she wanted from her, something she couldn’t shake from her mind. She was safe for the moment, on her way to being warm and fed, but her father…
She simply couldn’t pretend that her heart wasn’t broken.
“Before you do, may… may I ask a favor, my lady?” she asked.
