Page 4 of Lion and the Lamb: Easter

Chapter 2

“Come, Mother,” said Lord Lionel Hatchet, putting his arm around his mother’s shoulders as he turned her away from her husband’s grave. Lady Aldith wept and wiped her eyes, clinging to Lionel’s pregnant sister, Lillian. “Father is gone now. You and Lily both need to be strong.”

Lionel wasn’t one for mourning and was already tired of their crying. His father had died two days ago, and Lionel had matters to attend to that couldn’t wait. His father’s heart had given out when he was on the docks, checking on their latest shipment. Lionel was lord of Castle Hatchet now, and also in charge of the trade coming into his port. Not to mention, his betrothed was three days late and Lent started tomorrow morning.

The trio made their way out of the cemetery connected to St. Mary’s Church. A horse-drawn wagon driven by a servant waited to take them home. Lionel’s squire, Raphael, or Raff as he called him, as well as his steward, Willard, followed on their heels, not saying a word.

“Has any one seen Winifred?” asked Lionel, scanning the area for his fourteen-year-old daughter.

He had his share of trouble trying to raise the girl ever since his wife passed away five years earlier. Winifred was brash and rebellious, and always causing trouble. She wasn’t at all a lady, and acted more like a boy. She also had a habit of disappearing. This worried Lionel since she was at the age now when boys would be looking at her, wanting to bed her. He had half a mind to chain the girl to his side to keep her from wandering off.

“She was right behind us when we entered the graveyard,” said Raff, looking around.

“I’m afraid she might have run off again, my lord,” said Willard. “Would you like me see if I can find her?”

“Nay,” answered Lionel, knowing exactly where she went. The girl was attracted to the docks like a fly to dung. He didn’t understand why it intrigued her so much, and he didn’t like it one bit. “Willard, please see to it that my mother and sister get back to the castle safely and retire comfortably in the ladies solar for now. Raff, you’ll come with me to find Winifred.”

“Aye, my lord.” Willard stepped up to do as he was told. He was a man in his forties and had also been a good friend to Lionel’s late father.

“I hope Winifred is safe,” said Lionel’s sister with a sniffle. She rubbed a hand over her large belly. Her husband was overseas fighting for the king, and wouldn’t be here when their baby was born.

“She’ll be fine,” said Lionel. “She’s only playing her silly games again. I’m going to have to put an end to her tomfoolery.”

“Please, don’t be harsh with her, Lionel,” begged his mother. “I’m sure she, too, is upset by her grandfather’s passing.”

“Mmph,” mumbled Lionel, thinking Winifred’s only regret would be that her grandfather would no longer be sneaking her to the docks with him without Lionel’s permission. His father never could say no to Winifred, and had spoiled the girl completely. Winifred had been close with Lionel’s father, but had barely even talked to him in years now. They didn’t get along. Winifred was selfish, stubborn, and obstinate. It was because of this that Lionel had agreed to marry again, accepting his father’s absurd idea of betrothing him to the daughter of their enemy, the Bainards.

Lionel knew Winifred needed a mother, and hoped his new wife could keep her in line. Every time he’d tried to set up an alliance of his own, his daughter would do something to ruin the agreement. That’s why, this time, he didn’t let Winifred meet the woman first that he was about to marry. Everything had been arranged quickly, and hopefully this time nothing would ruin his plans.

“We’ll wait for you in the great hall,” said Lionel’s mother, dabbing at her eyes and replacing her hand cloth in the pouch at her side. She was dressed all in black, as was Lionel and his sister since they were in mourning. “Your betrothed will be arriving soon, and we have a wedding meal planned for you.” She whimpered and started crying again, reaching for her hand cloth.

“Aye, Mother,” he said, thinking there might not even be a wedding at all if the girl didn’t make it here in time. “Come, Raff. I see one of the horses is missing and I’ll bet you anything that Winifred has taken it down to the docks again.”

Lionel led the way with his squire following him on a horse of his own. He didn’t stop until he got to the docks. Turning his horse, he looked one way and then the other, but didn’t see his daughter anywhere.

“She doesn’t seem to be here, my lord,” said Raff. “Perhaps she didn’t come here after all.”

“Nay, she did. I’m sure of it. She can’t seem to stay away. The sun is setting and we need to find her quickly. The docks are no place for a woman to begin with, but in the dark, she’ll be at twice as much risk of getting accosted.”

“I’ll ask the dockworkers if they’ve seen her,” said Raff, heading away.

Lionel turned to see his favorite tavern, the Three-Legged Sow. He’d spent many hours drinking in there, not to mention visiting some of his favorite strumpets. Tomorrow, Lent started and he’d not be able to spend so much time drinking whisky here. If he did, he’d only want to bed the whores, and coupling was forbidden during Lent. Six weeks was a long time to do without. Then again, he reminded himself, by tomorrow, he might very well be a married man. Things were going to change more than he wanted them to.

“I need a drink,” he mumbled, heading to the tavern, hoping they’d have a good supply of Mountain Magic, some of the strongest whisky ever brewed. It was imported here all the way from Scotland. Old Callum MacKeefe was the only man who knew how to brew it, and it was said he’d lived so long because he drank it night and day.

Lionel dismounted and tied his horse to a post, looking around the area once more before heading inside. He wasn’t worried. Raff had most likely found Winifred by now. Just one quick drink and he’d be on his way. Lionel was having second thoughts about being married again. He and his late wife, Margaret, never had anything in common. She was sickly all the time and spent most of her life in bed as a near invalid. He never really knew her at all.

As soon as he pushed the door to the tavern open, he heard the commotion. Two young lads were sitting at one of the tables, arm wrestling. There was a bottle of whisky on the table between them.

“My lord, I’m sorry to hear of yer father’s death. Please, the drinks are on the house today,” said the bouncer at the door with a nod. He extended his arm in welcome, since nobles didn’t need to pay to enter like everyone else did.

“Thank you,” said Lionel, once again looking across the room. He recognized one boy who worked on the docks and often made deliveries to the castle. The other boy was covered head to toe in a black cloak and he couldn’t see his face at all. “What’s all the commotion about?” asked Lionel.

“Just a little arm wrestlin’ to see who wins the bottle of whisky,” said the man with a chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad to see someone is still having fun, even though hell starts tomorrow,” remarked Lionel.

“The men are takin’ bets if ye want to get in on it. Gilly is the favorite, but I’m bettin’ on that new lad, Fred.”