As she sat there and gently rubbed the dog’s head, there was a knock at the door. Cadelyn invited the caller to enter and when the door creaked open, Yerik’s fair face appeared.
“Sir Kress said you were feeling better, my lady,” he said. “You suffered no ill effects from your fall?”
Cadelyn motioned him into the chamber. “I am a little sore, but nothing that will not heal,” she said. “The warm bath did wonders, as you can imagine.”
Yerik came into the room, looking over at the tub of cooling water. “That is good,” he said. Then, his gaze trailed to the dog lying at Cadelyn’s feet. “The dog seems to have earned his keep today.”
Cadelyn looked to the dog as well, stroking his head. “He was a great protector,” she said. “I shall make sure he gets a good bone tonight as a reward.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Not yet. I asked Sir Kress to have food sent up. Is he downstairs?”
Yerik shook his head. “He has gone back out into the storm,” he said. “He is concerned that his men find shelter on this night. I heard him saying that to one of the other knights.”
Cadelyn’s heart sank a little, thinking that, perhaps, he wouldn’t come up to eat with her, after all. “I see,” she said. “I suppose that once I eat my meal, I shall go straight to bed. It has been a long and eventful day.”
Yerik nodded. “Very much so, my lady,” he said. Then, he eyed her for a moment before speaking. “I have finished the four poem cards that I was working on. Would you like to work on some more?”
Cadelyn had to think on that. Under normal circumstances, nothing could keep Lady Dark from churning out more poems but, at the moment, she wasn’t feeling very much like writing them.
It was odd, really. She’d always had such a passion for her poems, writing of things she’d never experienced herself, all of it inspired by the serving wench and the stable groom she’d seen and the clandestine kiss they’d shared. It had titillated her imagination and fed something in her that needed to be fed. The quest for love and desire, things all women of flesh and blood crave.
But now, things were different.
She wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it centered around Kress. She adored the man, but they could never have the kind of relationship that was honorable or sustainable. He would have to be her first and only taste of that level of attraction, of the kind of feeling that consumed her body and soul by even the mere thought of it. It was a pull like nothing she had ever experienced, a pull that would never know fruition.
It occurred to her that she and Kress were to be just like the serving wench and the stable groom. Everything they would ever have would be surreptitious.
Or not at all.
Somehow, that destroyed her inspiration for writing her poems.
“I have not written anymore,” she said, feeling incredibly depressed all of a sudden. “I do not know when I will, to be truthful. But we already have four cards– I am sure that will be enough to solicit clerics to produce them.”
Yerik wasn’t sensing her mood. “When we reach Chester, I will seek out the cathedral immediately,” he said. “It is Chester, after all. Surely they have a large one, which means there will be many starving clerics willing to earn money.”
Cadelyn nodded faintly. She’d never felt less like poem writing in her life. “I will leave that to you,” she said. “I do not need to see the cards; I know that what you do is always beautiful.”
Yerik dipped his head. “Thank you, my lady.”
He turned to leave but she stopped him. “Yerik,” she said slowly. “If… if you want to return to Lynn, I understand. This journey has been nothing I had expected and to tell you the truth, I am not entirely sure what it will be like once I reach The Paladin. So much of this is out of my control. I wonder… I wonder if you should simply return to Lynn and continue making the cards there. I could send you a missive every month with poems on them and you can hold my share of the money for when I am able to collect it.”
She sounded uncertain and beaten, which was very unusual for her. Yerik peered at her, confused by her words. She had always seemed so confident about her poems and continuing them even after her marriage. But now, she didn’t sound confident at all.
“It has been an adventure, my lady,” he said. “I have no regrets.”
Cadelyn lifted her eyebrows, a defeatist gesture. “If you do not, then you are the only one,” she muttered. “I wish I had never come. I wish… well, it does not matter. Mayhap tomorrow will be a better day for us both.”
Yerik simply nodded, studying her for a moment before quitting the chamber and shutting the door softly behind him. Once he was gone, Cadelyn found herself looking at the dog again, reaching out to pet his soft, warm fur. Since Kress was evidently not coming back to eat with her, she saw no reason to remain awake. The bed was calling to her and, rising wearily, she answered. Making her way over to the lumpy mattress, which was surprisingly clean, she pulled back the well-washed coverlet and climbed inside.
She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
It wasn’t something she realized, however. When next Cadelyn was aware, she could hear a soft voice in the chamber and she opened her eyes to see Kress sitting at a table next to the hearth, talking to the dog as he fed the animal something in a big wooden bowl. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up.
“When did you come?” she asked, yawning. “I did not hear you enter.”
Kress was stripped down. The wet mail and tunic were off, and all of his weaponry was off his body. He was sitting in front of the fire in only his dirty under tunic and breeches; even his boots were off and his feet were on the hearth, warming on the stone.
