Seat of the Earl of Sidbury
Four hours ofsleep hadn’t been enough.
It was early afternoon and Ophelia was struggling. She’d ridden most of the night, until a few hours before dawn, when she had dozed off in the saddle and nearly fallen off the horse. Therefore, she’d come off the road and into a dense collection of trees, where she’d tethered the horse by a small brook and wrapped herself up in her heavy traveling cloak. Lying down on the bed of the forest, she’d slept until the sun rose. The light of the coming morning had startled her awake and she’d sat up, yawned, eaten some bread, and then continued on her journey.
Daisy had been eating grass and leaves and roughage during the time she’d been sleeping, and the horse farted nonstop as they traveled down the road. By some miracle, she reached the big city of Exeter with its tall church and bustling roads, and the road east from Exeter took her directly into Sidmouth.
It had been shockingly uneventful.
Ophelia arrived in the familiar city at midafternoon, but she was exhausted. The ride had taken more out of her than she’danticipated, and she thought long and hard about facing her grandfather in this condition. The truth was that she was already at a disadvantage being a woman, and a pregnant one at that, and she very much wanted to face her grandfather as strongly as she could.
She knew she had to rest before she confronted him.
Fortunately, she knew Sidmouth fairly well. She knew that there was an inn along the road she was traveling on just before entering the city proper. It was called The Fish and the Fly, and she stopped there with the intention of resting a few hours before heading to Axen Castle. A stable boy, no more than six or seven years of age, took Daisy into a stall to feed her as Ophelia headed into the inn, which was surprisingly empty at this time of day. But it worked in her favor because it meant she had her pick of beds. The innkeeper, a stout man with swollen legs, took her to a small chamber with a big bed that nearly filled up the entire room. Ophelia ordered a meal, which came shortly, a bowl of stewed meat and carrots and a big pitcher of watered wine boiled with quince. She ate, she lay down, and she promptly passed out, exhausted.
When she awoke again, it was dark outside. She had no idea how long she’d slept, but she was determined to get to Axen Castle. However, when she went to look for her possessions, she couldn’t find them. In fact, everything was gone except the clothes on her back. She hadn’t taken off her cloak, nor had she removed her shoes. Everything was missing, including her satchel with her purse and Creston’s expensive dagger.
Rushing out of the chamber, she ended up in the common room, which was full at this time of night. People glanced at her but no one paid her much attention. Disoriented and upset that her things were missing, she found the innkeeper and questioned him, but he knew nothing about anything. No one seemed to.
Realizing that her things had been stolen, probably by the innkeeper himself, she knew that causing a scene wasn’t going to help. It might actually get her beaten, or worse. She was a lone woman and had no protection. Ophelia might have been impulsive, but she wasn’t stupid. She left without another word to preserve her safety. But heading into the stable, she realized her horse was missing.
Daisy had been stolen as well.
Sick to her stomach, Ophelia began to walk.
Fortunately for her, Axen Castle was less than an hour’s walk, but she had to get through the town of Sidmouth to get there. It wasn’t a haven for outlaws, but it also wasn’t particularly safe at night. No town was. Since she knew the streets, she took roads less traveled and stayed to the shadows. Because she moved slowly, making sure she wasn’t followed, it took her far more than an hour to get to the castle. The streets had been dark and frightening. Once she arrived, she shouted to the gatehouse guards, feeling some relief when they recognized her and opened the portcullis.
Slipping in, she headed straight for the great hall.
Axen didn’t spread out over a vast amount of real estate, but it was a sturdy, well-designed castle. In addition to the large gatehouse and long, steeply pitched great hall that hugged the eastern wall, it had an enormous keep built on the north side that took up most of the bailey. The bailey itself was rather small, and most of that was committed to the stables and kitchen yard. Ophelia knew the place and recognized it because she had once lived here, but she didn’t feel as if she’d come home. She only felt as if she’d come back, back to something that gave her unhappy memories.
There was no joy here.
It only served to emphasize the darkness that was her grandfather.
Once inside the great hall, which was mostly empty at this time of night but for a woman sweeping the floor, Ophelia inquired about her mother and was told that Lady Randa was still at Axen. She hadn’t returned to Symondsbury. After sending the servant to fetch her mother, Ophelia went to stand in front of the dying fire of the enormous hearth, peeling back the hood on her cloak and warming her hands.
And she waited.
Randa appeared in a relatively short amount of time. She was still in her bedclothes, though she wore a heavy robe against the cold night air. She entered the hall, looking at her daughter in shock. Ophelia caught sight of her mother, feeling no happiness. Only disappointment. She’d spent over twenty years of her life with the woman, and their relationship had been dutiful but not close, and all she could manage to feel now was the result of how Randa had let Oscar treat her only child.
“Lia?” Randa said with surprise. “Sweet Jesus, lass. What are you doing here? Where is your husband? Your escort?”
“I came alone,” Ophelia said. “Mother, I must speak to you.”
Surprise now became confusion on Randa’s face. “Speak to me…?” she repeated. “Lia,whyare you here? What is happening?”
“Is Grandfather here?”
“Aye,” Randa said hesitantly. “He is probably in his bed, where I was when I was summoned. Why do you ask?”
Ophelia didn’t answer her. She didn’t think she owed the woman any responses to her question because she’d not come to be interrogated. She was going to ask the questions because she’d come for answers. There was a table nearby, and benches, and she went to sit on one.
“Sit down, Mother,” she said. “We must speak.”
Randa followed her, increasingly confused. “Lia, did you leave your husband?” she asked. “Is that why you are here alone? Are you seeking safety from his cruelty?”
Ophelia snorted rudely. “If I were, I would not seek it here,” she said. “This is the last place I would go.”
