The servant opened the door, allowing Warenne and Isobeau entrance. The room was surprisingly well lit, with small, narrow windows facing both north and east that provided an ample amount of light into the otherwise very dark chamber. But it was as cold as sin, with a black hearth, and Warenne immediately ordered that a fire be lit.
Isobeau, weary and distressed, wandered into the low-ceilinged chamber and sat at a table that had three sturdy-looking chairs. But that was practically the only furniture in the room other than a narrow bedframe with no mattress on it. Warenne, still standing by the door, was studying the chamber with a critical expression. When the servant who had shown them to the room returned with kindling for the fire, Warenne began barking orders.
“This chamber is a disgrace,” he said. “You would truly think to put Titus de Wolfe’s wife here? There is no bed, nothing of comfort. Lady de Wolfe requires a bigger bed and a fine mattress stuffed with fresh straw. Where are the rest of the house servants? They must be brought here immediately. I have tasks for them to carry out.”
The poor servant was rather harried with Warenne barking at him and he struggled to light the fire and call out to other servants he knew to be nearby. The very old man who was Solomon’s Chamberlain came to help but Warenne took one look at the feeble, old man and told him to go find strongerservants. The elderly servant did, and soon there were three men and two women hovering in the corridor, waiting for orders from the man who had introduced himself as the Earl of Thetford. When Warenne saw the crowd in the corridor, he took charge.
“You,” he said, pointing to a toothless woman with dark hair and oily skin. “You will assist Lady de Wolfe in whatever she needs. I want a bath sent up to her and food, immediately. And, you–,” he pointed to the round woman with rosy cheeks standing next to the toothless servant, “–will make sure that a mattress, free of vermin, is stuffed with fresh straw and delivered to Lady de Wolfe along with clean linens, pillows, and anything else that will make her comfortable. Is this clear? Excellent. Now go about your business.”
The women scattered but the men were still standing there and Warenne pointed to them. “You heard what I told them,” he said. “Lady de Wolfe requires a bath and a bigger bed with a fresh mattress, so get on with it. Bring it as quickly as you can.”
The men fled after the women and Warenne could hear hissing and scuffling going on as they hurried to carry out his orders. Meanwhile, the servant who had originally shown them the room was making progress on a fire in the hearth as Warenne turned in Isobeau’s direction, seeing the woman seated at a table, her elbow on the tabletop and her head resting on her propped-up hand. He made his way to her.
“You should have all the comforts that Wolfe’s Lair can provide,” he told her. “Will you be all right while I return to Atticus? He is concerned over his father and asked me to return to him as soon as I settled you.”
Exhausted, Isobeau waved him off. “I will be well on my own,” she told him. “Thank you for assisting me. In fact, thank you for being such a comforting travel companion. Your presence has been much appreciated.”
Warenne smiled faintly, giving her a gracious bow, before quitting the chamber. Isobeau’s attention lingered on the door after he was gone, her weary mind reflecting on the scene down in the bailey. She was trying to forget what she saw, how Solomon cradled Titus’ decaying remains, and how tragic it all had been. She was so very weary of reliving the grief every day, like a scab that was constantly being torn off to reveal new and fresh blood. She was bleeding fresh blood for Titus every day, still. After her farewells in that dark livery in Rothsburg, she was more at peace with Titus’ passing but not nearly as resigned to it as she would have liked. Still, she missed him.
Odd, it seemed, because she had been separated from Titus more than she had actually spent time with him. The truth was that they’d only spent a couple of weeks together before he’d gone to war, so having him gone, passed on, and not around her on a daily basis was the norm in her life. She was used to him being gone. Even so, as she’d told Atticus, she would not forget him. She couldn’t.
The fire in the hearth began to blaze quite brightly and the old servant fed it more wood, creating a rather bold blaze that began to heat up the cold room quite adequately. Once the fire was snapping, the old servant left the room and closed the door softly behind him, leaving Isobeau alone in a darkened, strange room in a castle where her husband had grown up. She wasn’t the most comfortable she had ever been but at least she wasn’t on horseback any longer. Her lower back was still aching and she’d had cramping in her legs and back since they’d left Alnwick, and she was exhausted to the bone, so even as she sat at the old, scrubbed table, she lay her head down on the tabletop just to rest for a moment.
She was asleep before she realized it but when she woke up to extreme cramping a short time later, there was blood everywhere.
*
“How is yourfather?” Warenne asked Atticus. “Any better?”
Warenne had found Atticus, Kenton, and Solomon inside Wolfe’s Lair’s small chapel that was built into the west side of the fortress. It was a long, skinny chamber with an altar at the far end covered in a fine silk cloth, and several burial vaults built into the walls of the chapel as well as sunk into the floor. The families that had inhabited the fortress prior to the de Wolfes had several family members buried in the vault, now joined by five de Wolfe members including Solomon’s wife. Soon, Titus would join them.
“I am not entirely sure,” Atticus said, his eyes on his father, who was still laying across Titus’ coffin near the altar of the chapel. “It was all I could do to get him to put Titus back in his coffin and close the lid. I am afraid if we do not bury my brother tonight that my father might try to pull him out of his coffin again.”
Warenne peered through the dimly lit chapel, seeing Solomon as the man knelt next to the coffin, his upper torso splayed across it. “Have you sent for a priest?” he asked.
Atticus nodded. “I had Kenton take care of it,” he said. “He sent two men riding for Hawick. It is about an hour away on a swift horse so I imagine we will see a priest by this afternoon. At least, I hope so.”
“Indeed.”
Atticus’ gaze lingered on his father a moment longer before turning to Warenne. “Where is Isobeau?” he asked. “How is she?”
Warenne threw a thumb in the general direction of the courtyard, just outside the door. “She is in a chamber having a bath and food brought to her,” he said. “You should see to her shortly, Atticus, just to make sure she is well. I am not entirelysure how well she digested your father pulling Titus out of his coffin, so mayhap you should see to her comfort. I can watch over your father until you return.”
Atticus nodded but his gaze moved to his father, who was now speaking to the coffin, to Titus, much as Atticus and Isobeau had done those days past. It seemed like an eternity ago when they had bonded in that cold livery, coming to terms with the course their lives had taken. The next three days traveling to Wolfe’s Lair had been quiet between them for the most part; they had barely spoken but it wasn’t intentional. There simply hadn’t been the time or much of an opportunity. Atticus had been focused on moving them as quickly as possible to his ancestral home and Isobeau had simply followed along, uncomplaining and quiet.
Therefore, Atticus was coming to think that he should, indeed, see to Isobeau simply to make sure she was well enough. He didn’t want her to think he was neglecting her. Now that they were at their destination, there was time enough to rest and focus on the next step in their lives, including his pursuit of de la Londe and de Troiu. He had not yet discussed that with Isobeau on a level that might see her joining him, as Warenne had suggested. Over the past few days, he had grown accustomed to the idea of taking her with him; more than that, he was quite certain Warenne would not let him leave her behind.
“Very well,” he said. “I will see to her for a moment. Where is she?”
Warenne motioned to the north side of the fortress. “On the third level,” he said. “She is on the north side.”
Atticus knew the labyrinth of rooms at Wolfe’s Lair and had a good idea where Isobeau had been settled. “Thank you,” he said, eyeing his father one last time. “My father knows you and you know him. Do what you can for him while I am away but whatever you do, don’t let him take Titus out of the coffin again.I am afraid my father may unwittingly damage the body in his grief and then he would wallow in that guilt for the rest of his life.”
Warenne nodded, keeping an eye on Solomon as Atticus headed out of the chapel. Out in the yard where a very cold wind was whipping through the grounds, Atticus came across Kenton, who was disbanding the escort party and having Isobeau’s capcases removed from the wagon. Just as Atticus passed by, Kenton called out to him.
“Atticus,” he said. “Shall I have Lady de Wolfe’s capcases sent up to her or would you have me wait?”
Atticus paused, eyeing the collection of very nice cases that Titus had purchased for his new wife.
