Emllyn closed her eyes as Elyse and a servant went to work, pouring water over her head and setting about scrubbing and oiling every inch of her body. The water smelled like an entire field of roses and Emllyn settled back, letting Elyse take charge. Already, she was feeling better.
“May I beg you to tell me a little about yourself, my lady?” Elyse asked as she worked. “Living here at Glenteige with only my father and a few others for company, I very much miss the companionship of ladies such as yourself. It is a rather lonely life here at times.”
Emllyn had been laying against the back of the tub, eyes closed but she opened her eyes and looked at Elyse when the woman spoke.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I am afraid I am not very exciting. I went to foster at Kenilworth Castle when I was very young. In fact, Kenilworth feels more like my home than my brother’s castle ever did. I had many friends there. I was sad to leave when I had to return home.”
Elyse was busy scrubbing the toes of her left foot. “Tell me of your friends at Kenilworth,” she said. “Were they handsome and dashing knights or fine and fair ladies?”
Emllyn smiled at the memories the question was provoking. “Both,” she said. “I had friends that were male, of course. Two that come to mind are Kenneth St. Héver and Stephen of Pembury. They would try to play jokes on me but I was smarter than they were; I would turn the tables on them. Oh, they were good times.”
Elyse smiled because Emllyn was. “Young knights?”
Emllyn nodded. “Very young,” she said. “We were about the same age and they always thought they could tease me. Well, at least Stephen did. He was a terrible jokester. Somehow Kenneth always got into trouble, too, because the two of them were inseparable. I can still see the earl berating the pair for having played a joke on me which I turned around on them. It was great fun.”
Elyse was still smiling as she rinsed off the left foot and moved onto the right. “I have fond memories of fostering, too,” she said. “I fostered at Winchester Castle.”
Emllyn watched the woman wash her foot. “When did you come to Ireland?”
Elyse’s smile seemed to fade. “Two years ago,” she said. “It was after my mother died and my father did not wish me to stay in England alone, so he sent for me. I have no other family, yousee. Just my father. I had a brother but he was killed by Black Sword in the wars a few years ago.”
Killed by Black Sword.Emllyn’s smile faded and her nerves began to make a return, for Devlin’s sake. To be truthful, she’d only heard two sides of Black Sword’s legend– her brother’s version and Devlin’s version. She was curious about Elyse’s version but she was also curious to know if the woman had any insight into her father’s activities against Devlin. Devlin wanted to know if de Cleveley intended to launch an attack against him; perhaps this was a place to start. Women often heard things they weren’t supposed to.
“I am sorry for your brother,” she said softly. “Black Sword destroyed my brother’s entire fleet. It seems to me that he is very powerful.”
Elyse shrugged as she finished with her right foot and put it back into the water. “He is very much hated,” she said. “Everyone in the settlement both hates the man and fears him. I do believe some of the knights even admire him. They say he is very clever.”
Emllyn simply nodded her head to the statement as she deliberated what direction to take the conversation in. She’d never been particularly manipulative so this was new territory for her. Worse, she was actually coming to like Elyse. The woman was very kind and seemingly genuine. She didn’t want to use that kindness in a self-serving way but she had little choice. She was here on a mission and would do what she had to in order to achieve her goal.
“He must be if he defeated my brother’s armada as thoroughly as he did,” she said. “Has no one even tried to meet with the man and see what his demands are? I realize I am not a warrior, and I’m not even particularly clever, but it seems to me if there is a problem that men should discuss it. What good is itto go around killing each other if no one really knows what it’s all about?”
“They know what it is all about,” Elyse corrected her. “It is about the Irish wanting to rule their own lands when everyone knows they are too stupid to do so. Except for Black Sword; I have heard my father say he has the makings of a great ruler.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. I believe it has something to do with the way he plans his battles.” She paused and appeared thoughtful. “He is the bastard son of the Earl of Louth, you know. He served with his father in the Irish Bruce Wars a few years ago and it was said he was instrumental in a very big victory. His father’s family has been in Ireland for centuries and even though they are descended from Normans, they are still considered Irish. And Black Sword’s mother is the daughter of kings, so I suppose that makes him royalty.”
Emllyn tried not to show much interest in what she was saying, although it was more than she’d ever heard about Devlin. “How would you know all of this?”
Elyse grinned. “My father told me,” she said. “He says that Black Sword has all of the cunning and savagery of the Irish gods. He says that Black Sword always has great plans.”
Emllyn shrugged as she began splashing water on her face. “Then mayhap your father should meet with the man and discuss a plan that will not see so many men die.”
Elyse grinned at the frank assessment of a complex situation. “My fatherhasmet him, once,” she said. “It was a long time ago but he said even then, in his youth, there was something about Black Sword that spoke of greatness.”
Emllyn’s blood ran cold.My father has met him. God’s Blood, was it possible the man had recognized him? Was that why he invited Devlin to sup with him? Emllyn began to feel very, very nervous.
As Elyse washed her hair with soap and rinsed it with flat ale, all Emllyn could think of was Devlin sitting in the midst of English knights, men who would gladly run him through if they knew who he was. She was wrought with worry over Devlin’s current status, so much so that she had ceased to enjoy her bath and now saw it as an obstacle that stood in the way of having Devlin returned to her room. She had to tell Devlin that de Noble had seen him once and quite possibly might recognize him. It was a terrifying thought.
When the bath was over, Elyse and the serving woman helped Emllyn from the tub and dried her off with a soft linen towel. Standing in front of the fire where it was nice and warm, the servant rubbed rose-scented oil all over her skin as Elyse began to comb through her hair to dry it. When the oil was absorbed into her skin, the servant put the beautiful silk robe back on her and Elyse had her sit down in front of the fire so that the heat could better dry her hair.
As the red-gold hair dried into fine, soft curls, Emllyn could wait no longer. She had to see Devlin. When the serving woman brought her mulled wine to drink, she turned to catch a glimpse of Elyse as the woman worked steadily over her hair.
“Will you please return John now?” she asked. “I would like to see him.”
Elyse nodded, immediately switching places with the serving woman and removing the apron she had donned to help Emllyn bathe. She was quick and efficient in her movements, exuding the image of the perfect chatelaine.
“I will go and find him,” she said. Then, her gaze lingered on Emllyn hesitantly. “Of course, it is not my place to say so, but it is my sense that it would not be entirely… proper for the man to stay here with you. In fact, I will be sleeping in this chamber and although I know John makes you feel safe, to have him sleepinghere is rather… discomforting to me. Moreover, my father would never allow it.”
