Cadelyn lifted her eyebrows. “The thought of being on a wagon for days and weeks on end does not excite me,” she said. “May I ask Lady Delesse if she can spare her carriage? That would be much more comfortable.”
Padraig waved her off. “It is not as if she ever leaves Castle Rising,” he said. “Ask her. If she agrees, I shall permit you to take it. But I want it returned.”
Kress nodded. “I will ensure that it is,” he said. His gaze hovered on Cadelyn for a moment. “I suppose there is nothing else to speak of at the moment. Do you have any questions, my lady?”
Cadelyn didn’t. She knew she had to pack, now hurriedly, and she knew when they wanted to leave, but she also knew that she had something more to do beyond the packing and bidding farewell to her life at Castle Rising. There was the small matter of taking Yerik with her, something she’d not mentioned to Padraig or Delesse. She was fairly certain that Padraig would see no reason why a cleric should accompany her to Chester, and Delesse would more than likely question such a request.
Therefore, Cadelyn thought that perhaps the only thing to do would be to pick Yerik up on the road and demand he accompany her. As she’d already told Susanna, surely Kress would not object to a man she presented as her own personal priest. A little lie, but she wasn’t beyond that to have the man accompany her. Cadelyn might have to leave Castle Rising, butshe fully intended to bring Lady Dark with her, that last remnant of her life in Norfolk that she very much wanted to continue in the uncertainty of her future.
Struggling to control something in a life that was no longer her own.
“I have no questions,” she finally said, looking to Padraig. “May I go, my lord? I have much to do and little time to do it.”
Padraig waved her on. “You may go,” he said. “Make sure to ask my wife about her carriage so we can prepare the thing if you are to take it.”
Nodding quickly, Cadelyn fled the hall, taking Susanna with her. She was moving unnaturally fast, but given the fact that she had a great deal to accomplish, no one saw that as strange. Once the women were gone, Padraig sent a servant for more wine.
“My apologies about Susanna,” he said, pouring the last of the pitcher into his cup. “She is quite obedient, but she is not the silent type.”
Kress sighed heavily, glancing at Achilles as he did so. “Nor is Achilles the retiring sort,” he said. “The man will fight anyone, man or woman, who issues a challenge. We are trying to break him of that particular habit.”
Padraig smiled thinly. “Just be careful with Susanna,” he said. “After Exelby, she trained at Blackchurch on the Devon coast. You’ve heard of the place, no doubt.”
Kress looked at him strangely. “That is an elite training school,” he said. “Shetrained at Blackchurch?”
Padraig nodded. “Both she and her brother,” he said. “They do take women if they are talented enough, and she was. The school is run by the Lords of Exmoor.”
Kress snorted. “They are more pirates than they are reputable lords,” he muttered. “They train men for a profit, but they turn out fine warriors. I fought with some in TheLevant. You’re telling me thatwomantrained with the pirates of Exmoor?”
Padraig was amused by his disbelief. “If you do not believe me, let your friend have a go at her,” he said, gesturing to Achilles. “She’ll not make an easy victim, I assure you.”
Kress looked at Achilles, his head wagging back and forth. “Did you hear that?” he said. “She trained at Blackchurch. If I were you, I would watch my back.”
Achilles had little interest in the admonition. He looked away, taking a big gulp of wine while Alexander and Bric grinned at the man’s clear defiance at any suggestion that a woman might be a threat.
While more food and wine were brought out, Kress wasn’t particularly interested in it. His attention turned from Achilles to his damp, sweaty body, and he was coming to think that he might like to wash his face and hands, and even change his clothing. He’d been in the same stuff for days on end. With a weary sigh, he stood up.
“If you would tell me where we are to sleep, my lord, I would like to clean myself before sup,” he said. “It has been a long ride from London.”
Padraig nodded swiftly, calling over his majordomo, who was at the hearth trying to clean out a partially blocked chimney.
“Odo,” he called to the man, waving him over. “Show Sir Kress to the knight’s quarters and bring the man a bath.”
The old majordomo, with soot on his face, was more than happy to oblige. As Kress gathered his saddlebags and left the great hall alone, because no one else seemed to want to go with him, he followed the old man from the keep to a series of single-story outbuildings to the south with a protected well in front of them. They were stone-built, and heavily-fortified with tiny windows and big, iron doors, and the old man indicated the larger outbuilding to Kress.
“You and your men shall stay here, my lord,” he said. “As you can see, there is a well right here should you need water, but I shall send you heated water from the kitchens to wash. Do you require a tub?”
Kress shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “A basin will do fine.”
The old man nodded and scurried off. Beneath the light of the setting sun, Kress paused before entering the building, taking a moment to look over the vast and truly impressive grounds of the inner bailey. The tall earthworks that surrounded the inner bailey were blocking out the sun at this point, casting great purple shadows across the courtyard, and Kress was about to enter the outbuilding when he caught sight of something scurrying from the keep. A small figure in a cloak, and he didn’t give it much notice until the cloak blew back in the sunset breeze and he could see a pale, blue surcoat and long, blonde hair. He recognized the figure as that of Lady Cadelyn.
Curious, Kress paused and watched her as she quickly fled the inner ward, heading through the big gatehouse with the bridge that spanned the moat and led out to the courtyard that contained the stables and other outbuildings.
He stood there a moment, wondering why the woman was heading to the stables at this time of night. More than that, the urge to follow her was quite strong, mostly because he simply wanted to speak to her. Perhaps he’d speak on the card she’d given him, or perhaps not. Perhaps he would tell her that he was sorry for being rather bold with her, considering she was a betrothed lady and he was to escort her to her future husband. Perhaps he just wanted to clear the air between them.
At least, that was the excuse he would use.
Tossing his saddlebags into the knight’s quarters, he decided to follow Lady Cadelyn’s path to the stables. He wasn’t in any big hurry, making his way across the inner ward and to thegatehouse and the bridge. All the while, however, his gaze was on the outer ward, the one with the stables, and over and over in his mind, he was rehearsing what he planned to say to her.
