CHAPTER SIXTEEN: NEW FOES.
What of Samara? Where is she? Neb's mind demanded, but he kept quiet and watched as Chief Wulfstan carried Lillian into the Main Hall, with Lady Lydia at his side and a bevy of her women fluttering around them.
Someone tugged at Neb's sleeve. He turned to find Eric gazing up at him with panic in his usually dreamy eyes.
'What of my father? Where is he? What's happened?' he blurted, as though Neb had all the answers. Neb glanced around, seeking help from Eric's friends. But everyone else had gone back to feasting. Neb noticed Luke had squeezed between Alexis and Harry and appeared to be holding court. The child would tell anyone who cared to listen more than they wanted to know. Neb decided that if ever he needed information, the first person he'd seek out would be the most talkative child. Discretion and children didn't go well together.
Eric plucked at his sleeve again, 'my father – he travelled with the two maids.' His eyes darted from Neb, to the Main Hall and then to the road leading out of the village. 'I have to know – he's all the family I have.'
Neb chewed on his lip, staring at Eric thoughtfully. The young man's status was even lower than a griffin's boy and Neb realised Eric was depending on him to act as a spokesman. 'They’ve got Samara…' Lillian had said, without a mention of Alfred – the man who was charged to defend the two girls – perhaps with his life.
'You're right. You have a right to know,' he said and having made his decision, squared his shoulders and entered the Main Hall, with Eric following.
Once inside the Main Hall, even the air seemed quieter and Neb cringed at the sound of their boots slapping over neat rectangles of flagstone. Marks and scuffs along the middle of the floor provided evidence of where the feasting tables usually stood. Apart from a couple of chairs parked by an enormous fireplace carved into the far wall, the hall appeared bare and deserted. Voices drifted down the wide staircase running against the hall's left wall. Neb glanced in that direction, wishing Eric wouldn't breathe quite so heavily down his neck and wondering how much trouble he'd be in if he dared to climb up to Chief Wulfstan's family rooms.
'Boy, come in or go out – but stop dithering!'
Neb almost jumped out of his skin. Romulus! The Griffin Master rose from his seat by the fireplace and stepped out of the shadows.
Neb straightened to attention 'Sir, I didn't see you there. I'm sorry to disturb you.'
'Told you Rommey. That's two bottles of whiskey you owe me.' Blain also stepped out from the shadows, and he grinned, his teeth gleaming white in a mass of dark beard. 'You've come to seek news of your girl?'
Neb's backbone became even straighter. 'No! I'm not interested in … that is – I am interested but –' of course he wanted to know that Samara was safe, but not for the reason Blain implied – and she wasn't his girl! Tugging Eric forwards, he walked over to the two men, and started again.
'This is Eric, Alfred's son. He's anxious to learn of his father's welfare.'
Blain sobered. Romulus surprised Neb by patting Eric on the arm. 'No news yet, but be hopeful young man.' The stairs creaked and they all glanced in that direction, watching as Chief Wulfstan descended with a grave face. He didn't speak until he reached the bottom step. He approached the group by the fireplace, frowning like a man struggling to put a name to a familiar face. Neb shuffled his feet and cleared his throat; fortunately Chief Wulfstan's memory saved Neb from providing an awkward prompt.
'Eric, isn't it?'
Eric nodded, his eyes begging Chief Wulfstan for news.
'Don't look so worried. It isn't good news, but it isn't bad. It seems Kattin's grief has driven her completely insane. She laid in wait to ambush the girls and your father. Lillian managed to tell us that she intends to take Samara onto a cloister …'
'Black Robes' Cloister?' Eric asked. Chief Wulfstan looked at him in surprise. 'Yes – how did you …' he broke off, shaking his head 'never mind – that doesn't matter. Apparently she intends to force Samara into a marriage with her dead brother.'
Blain barked a laugh 'What?!'
Chief Wulfstan shrugged. 'It's folly. We know that. But at least we know Samara isn't harmed.'
Neb doubted that. For certain Samara would have fought back, and he couldn't begin to imagine how Kattin would force her to make wedding vows.
'And my father?' Eric asked.
Chief Wulfstan frowned, 'Your father appears to be safe too. Although apparently he didn't try very hard to protect the girls,' his frown deepened and he continued as though thinking out loud: 'Perhaps with Samara at her mercy, Kattin forced him to obey,' he nodded at his own explanation, adding 'The main thing is he is safe; Lillian said she escaped while Kattin and your father were seeing to the oxen.'
He glanced at Romulus and Blain. 'My wife's cousin expects this business with Chief Luthan to be resolved by sun-down tomorrow. The day after tomorrow ...' Realising his father's plight had been dismissed, or at least put on hold, Eric's face flushed. Neb placed a restraining hand on his arm.
Eric shrugged Neb's hand away and shouted: 'The day after tomorrow – what use is that? What if she drugged my father – and he's helpless by the side of the road?' He spun around to Neb, 'You've got a griffin – it will take you no time – or are you scared of a woman too?'
The three older men frowned, Neb shuffled uncomfortably again.
Chief Wulfstan exhaled a breath that whistled through his teeth.
'Eric, you forget yourself. Plans have been made. Kattin will not be allowed to unmake them.' He glanced at Romulus. 'It's for the Griffin Master to decide where his griffins fly, and when. He has agreed Lord Massant can ride on Fletcher, while he will fly the young griffin. We march on Penwryn tomorrow and we will not re-write our entire battle plan because of one madwoman's actions.'
Eric shivered with misery. Catching Romulus' eye, Neb pleaded, 'Sir? …'
Romulus shook his head. 'Chief Wulfstan has spoken. In any case, I know of this Cloister. It's just beyond Bucks' Forest. No doubt this madwoman will be clever enough to keep to the woodland tracks, under cover. You could circle over the forest for days, but until you find a clearing to land in, all you will see is the tops of trees.'
Eric shook his head, glowering under his brow. Neb thought he looked like a bull about to charge and hurriedly asked 'If just two men were to scout the woods – they could follow the wagons' tracks – they might even catch up them –' Lillian didn't strike Neb as a girl who could cover ground quickly, neither of course did oxen; Kattin couldn't be too far away.
Romulus scowled. 'No. I forbid it. You've done enough gallivanting. I want you where I can see you.' He dragged his fist across his mouth, as though there was more he wanted to say, but instead nodded to Chief Wulfstan and Blain saying 'Early start tomorrow, I'll bid you both good-night,' and strode away.
Chief Wulfstan's face was stern. Neb realised Eric had already overstepped his boundary. He addressed Neb, but his words were for Eric. 'I understand your concerns, but Lillian managed to escape. In my mind, Kattin threatened to hurt Samara unless Alfred did her bidding, but it's also possible they too will escape. They may even be making their way back as we speak. In any case, we know where Kattin is headed, and –'
' –and what if my father is bleeding the last of his life blood?!' Eric shouted.
'Pray that is not the case, because then he is already dead and beyond any help,' Chief Wulfstan shouted back, finally losing his temper. He stomped away and upstairs without wishing any good-nights.
Eric stared from Blain to Neb, then he too turned and stumbled out of the Main Hall. Neb looked at Blain, 'Romulus is riding Balkind, and Lord Massant is riding Fletcher?' With a sympathetic grimace, Blain placed a hand on Neb's shoulder. 'Lord Massant wants to relive his glory days, and Romulus agreed. You'll see some action, although there's still hope that Luthan will see sense, especially with an entire army breathing down his neck.'
Neb didn't protest. In any case, before long, Balkind would be assigned to one
of Romulus' new recruits – though hopefully not Padrick. Blain patted his shoulder, 'now go and rejoin your friends, an early start tomorrow.' He gave Neb a stern look; to argue would seem ungrateful. Neb gave an obedient nod and started to take Blain's advice. He traipsed back past the wall tapestries without glancing at their beautifully detailed hunting and picnic scenes. He'd actually raised his hand to open the door, when the bracelet at his wrist caught his attention. Hairs prickled on the back of his neck. He turned. 'Lillian said: "they've got Samara …" he said, and his voice faltered. 'Blain, how did Eric know about the Black Robes' Cloister?'
For a second, uncertainty flickered in Blain's eyes. Then he shrugged, 'It's no big secret. Alfred and I were loading the girls' travelling cases onto the wagon, when Kattin begged for help with Vander's corpse,' he broke off to grimace. 'I tried to change her mind, but she insisted that his funeral pyre would not take place in this village.' He scratched at his beard, trying to recall who had said what next. Neb could imagine the scene, Kattin's scorn … Alfred and Blain helping her, as they would any lone woman ... 'and so she told you about this Cloister?' he prompted.
Blain scratched harder, his brow wrinkled. 'I expect so, she must have done, and Eric must have heard,' he said. 'Although …'
Although what?' Neb prompted again. Blain shot him a look of disquiet. 'Although never exactly friends, Alfred sometimes carried out chores for Vander.' He shuffled uneasily, as his own words sank in. He and Neb stared at each other. Finally Blain repeated in a whisper 'They've got Samara…'
********