Ten
The Great Hall was swarming to capacity with men and their overly loud conversations as the evening meal was brought into the room. Serfs scurried to bring heavily laden trenchers of steaming roasted boar, fowl, and venison to the tables. The platters were barely set down afore greedy hands began to tear at the meat as the knights filled their hungry bellies.
Serving maids made their way amongst several of the tables, pouring ale or mead into tankards waved in their direction to be filled. The lusty laughter of the whores who had accompanied the conquering army also filled the air, as they showed their wares with low bodices and a promise in their eyes if a man had but the coin to make it worth their while. ’Twas apparent some of the guards were in the mood to partake of what the wenches had to offer and their rowdy banter echoed off the walls of the hall.
’Twas into this mayhem that Amiria finally entered, dragging her feet as she made her way through the now repaired portal of the keep. Confusion seemed to reign as she looked about the crowded room with more people than usually filled its walls. She had become used to seeing the unfamiliar men from Dristan’s army outside in the lists, but she had yet to become accustomed to seeing so many within her family’s home. She was unclear why many of these knights were not dining at the Garrison Hall, but ’twas none of her business since she wished to make herself as invisible as humanly possible.
Everything seemed disorganized. ’Twas never so whilst under her care after her mother’s passing. With a quick critical assessment for Sabina’s duties, Amiria noticed how barking dogs roamed freely. Scraps of food were tossed their way or thrown upon the floor for them to fight over. The rushes were filthy, and she was thankful she wore not the woman’s slippers she would normally have worn if she could but dress as a woman. They would have been rendered useless with just one pass across the floor.
As she looked about for an empty bench where she might break her fast in peace, she saw Ian stand and beckon to her from across the room where he sat at one of the lower tables near the kitchen entrance. Her guardsmen were there, including her piper, and Ian made a place for her next to him. He filled the trencher for them to share and Amiria quietly began to eat her fill. She glanced occasionally at her men, who ate in relative silence compared to the clamor resounding from other occupants of the room.
Dougal picked up his tankard and took a deep draught of the cool brew. He wiped his mouth with the back of his tunic sleeve and looked at those around him, who still ate. “They stick us here, boot they dinnae realize we get the best o’ the meat as it leaves the kitchens,” he smirked knowingly. Amiria listened as a chorus of “aye’s” agreed with his words.
“Ach, look at ’em,” Finlay said shortly. “Willna be long afer they become the mongrels they be actin’ like! They growl after the bitches as if they be in heat.”
“Hush now,” Amiria scolded. “You do not wish to be over-heard by one of them do you?”
“As if they could hear us! They are so boisterous.” Thomas sounded annoyed, apparently presuming all the attention of the whores were being given the Englishmen.
Amiria made no comment since he obviously forgot that he was more English than Scot.
“Weel, widnae ye think his men would be better trained in knightly ways?” Killian said, not to be left out. “Or mayhap not, since they are, after all, his men an’ come from the depths of hell.”
Although he did not speak, Devon crossed himself and his eyes darted to and fro as he assessed the room. He was about to spit over his shoulder when Amiria’s silent glare instantly halted his movements. With a satisfied nod at his refrain, she continued on with her meal.
“Mayhap, if I play me pipes ’twill soothe the beasts,” Gar-rick offered kindly.
“Doona ken ye be wasting yer time, lad, nor would they appreciate the like?” Nevin protested most convincingly. “’Tis clear to all they have the manners o’ pigs!”
Amiria glanced at the high table where Dristan sat with his guardsmen and an obedient Patrick, hovering behind his lord. In her opinion, ’twas clear his personal guardsmen were differ-ent than his army.
“They all do not appear so,” she said softly, and with one last fleeting look of longing at Dristan, she returned her attention to her meal.
Silence fell once more around their table but, from her peripheral vision, Amiria saw how Ian continued to stare at her. She began to fidget beneath the bench whilst his close scrutiny all but laid bare her emotions of what she had been feeling for their liege of late. She could feel his censorship for ’twas as if he knew where her thoughts had taken her. She finally could stand no more of him inspecting her as if she were some prize to be won like a bloody coveted trophy! She raised her head to look him boldly in his face. For the briefest second, his soul seemed open for her to see what plagued a man who, at times, knew her better than she knew herself.
He was jealous! There was no doubt in her mind from such a clear revelation, and she quickly snapped her lips shut to halt the tart reprimand she had been about to give him. Just as quickly, he blinked, and the moment was gone, almost as if she had imagined the whole thing. Mayhap ’twas better this way. ’Twould spare both the hurt that would surely have followed any words spilled forth from bitterness of what was never to be.
Her perusal of the hall continued, ’til Amiria paused with food half way between the trencher and her mouth.
“I’ll kill her. I swear I shall kill her for her audacity,” Amiria sputtered angrily. She tossed the roasted venison back onto the trencher and wiped her greasy hands on her tunic sleeves as she tried to form coherent words to voice her fury of what she was witnessing.
Her guardsmen, noticing that which had disturbed their mistress, grimaced.
Sabina had at last descended the stairs to grace all with her presence, although this is not what caused the men at the table to scowl. What caused their outrage was the gown she wore, for it did not reveal the poise and charm on her scrawny form as well as it did its true owner.
Her anger coming to full boil, Amiria rose afore any could stop her. Pushing her way through the crowd, she stormed across the floor ’til she gained her sister’s side. She grabbed Sabina’s arm and refused to let go.
“How dare you take my things,” Amiria hissed in her ear. “Take yourself upstairs, sister, and change afore you regret this!”
Sabina arrogantly raised her head higher, evidently feeling superior to her sister for the first time in her young life.
“I know not what you speak of, Aiden,” she sneered knowingly as she clearly enunciated their brother’s name. “I but dressed in my finest to please my lord. By the look he cast me, I can tell he is well satisfied with my choice of gowns this eve! ’Tis only a matter of time ’til he takes me to wife and then where shall you be in my household? Mayhap I will deem you only fit to be a scullery maid, or, if I feel generous, I will at the very least allow you to attend me as one of my ladies,” she pondered snidely.
Amiria jerked her sister’s arm harder and spun her towards the stairs. “Our Lord Dristan is not that big a fool, so do not test me further this day. You know what this dress means to me. Now go and change afore I rip it off your skinny frame!” She gave her sister a non-too-gentle push.
“Aiden!” Dristan shouted from across the room.
Amiria turned and watched as Dristan shoved his chair back from the table and made his way to her side. She chanced a glance at Sabina and saw her satisfied, I-told-you-so smile. Amiria turned to give her full attention to her lord and made him a low bow.
“Aye, my liege?” she questioned, her head downcast.
“What goes on here?”
“Nothing, my lord,” Amiria replied sourly, “’tis just a small squabble between siblings . . . no harm has been done here.”
“Mayhap I have been remiss in your teachings of knightly virtues and have spent too much time training you in the proper use of a sword. Chivalry to all women must always be adhered to, Aiden. You shall never earn your spurs if you treat a lady thusly,” he chided.
“Perchance if she were a lady . . . ” she muttered under her breath.
’Twas a mistake he overheard, and she regretted her words for Dristan was sorely vexed. “I heard that. Sister or not, she is still a lady. As such, she deserves your respect. Get yourself to the stable and see to Thor. Mayhap you will begin to think differently with such a menial task of shoveling manure.”
“As you will, my lord,” Amiria consented. Her mood soured even more, seeing the smug look on her sister’s face. She left the hall, making her way to the stable, stomping her feet as she went, and muttering under her breath about the sorry state her life had become.
Dristan saw, with a grave frown, Sabina’s look of smugness as she stood afore him. The dress she wore looked vaguely familiar, but that was all that reminded him of the lady in the mist from his memories that early morn hour when he first had glimpsed the unknown woman. She examined his gaze on her and her smile brightened with obvious pleasure as she adjusted the wimple around her head. Perchance ’twas time he took his leave of the meal, afore he was once more assaulted with Sabina’s unwelcome company.
With a flick of two fingers, he motioned to Patrick, who came rushing to his side. “See that water is taken to my chamber so I may bathe. I will be up shortly,” Dristan commanded, sternly, as he watched Patrick run towards the kitchen to see the task done. He redirected his attention back to examining his hall, and his brows furrowed by what he saw. He did not miss Sabina’s smile fade, nor her look of discontent when his attention went elsewhere.
Dristan moved to return to his guardsmen and his meal ’til he felt Sabina place her hand in the crook of his elbow as if to accompany him about the hall. He stopped and looked down into her once more smiling face. ’Twas not a smile that reached her eyes, but one he had seen countless times from the women he came in contact with who only saw his wealth. They all had the same notion and ’twas to either wed with him or to say they spent a night or two entwined within the Devil’s Dragon’s embrace.
He gently removed Sabina’s hand from his arm and gave her a slight nod of his head. “You wished to have speech with me, my lady?” he brusquely inquired.
Sabina batted her eye lashes with a come hither look. Since he had seen it afore many a time, being a knight most favored by his English king, he was immune to its implications and the lady’s charms.
“I could not help but notice you were pleased with my attire this evening, my lord. ’Tis true, is it not?”
Dristan gazed down the length of her and saw that the dress, although comely, seemed to hang unattractively on her slight frame. “It but reminded me of another.”
Sabina frowned slightly yet gave a cheery confident reply, “But you are pleased all the same?”
Dristan was not sure if that deemed an answer and waited for her to continue her ploy that was so easily read. He could tell Sabina was racking her brain to think of something that would keep him at her side.
“I thought mayhap you and I could share a trencher to fill our fast, my lord.”
“I have already eaten,” was all he answered as he scanned the hall again, as if seeing it for the first time.
Sabina’s once bright smile dulled to one of lackluster and lines of irritation appeared in her features afore they were yet again carefully masked. “Mayhap, there is aught else I can offer to give thee pleasure?”
Dristan looked down upon her and scowled.
“Lady Sabina,” he began quietly, so as not to be over heard. “You have spoken these words to me afore and I have said thee nay to what you propose. You are the second daughter of the old lord and as such, you should know I will not avail myself to what you cheaply offer. If I desire my needs to be serviced, then any one of the castle whore’s would do. In truth, I will endeavor to find you a wealthy husband as I am sure your sire would have done in my place.”
He raised his hand to stop her speech and watched as she clamped her mouth shut whilst fury flashed in her eyes.
“I had asked if you were up to the task of seeing to the keep, but mayhap I have erred, as this is not how I saw this hall prior to your overtaking this duty. Mayhap, ’twas run in an orderly fashion by your sister, Amiria, but ’tis clear you are incapable of doing the same.”
“I have been well trained, my lord,” Sabina scoffed. ’Twas evident she did not care for the praise he had given her sister.
“Again, you have said these words to me afore, and yet you have not demonstrated such to me.”
“I can prove you wrong!”
“Then do so, and I will hear no more talk or suggestions that I would welcome you into my bed. ’Tis clear to you then?” he rasped, and watched her grimly nod her assent. “Good! Then we need have no further speech on the matter. Now fill your fast and then see to this hall once and for all. It offends me.”
Dristan left her standing there alone, giving her no further thought. He made his way past his men, who raised their tankards in a silent salute, and took the stairs two at a time up to his chamber.
He may not have felt so at ease if he had but seen the out-right leer Sabina threw in his direction. If he had known the young woman’s thoughts, he would not sleep a wink this night or any other night hence forth.
For such were the musings of a woman intent on snagging the man of her choosing for her future husband. ’Twas only a matter of time afore Sabina brought the Devil’s Dragon of Blackmore to his knees.