Eleven
In the dimly lit stables, Amiria worked hard grooming the massive black stallion of the new lord of Berwyck Castle. Though such a task was to be expected as part of the drudgery to be learned during this period, the normal routine of an everyday squire was not to her liking. Her labors were not that of an ordinary young lad . . . Nay, ’twas not so. For Amiria only pretended to be a lad who wished to be able to show her true self once and for all. The castle inhabitants who knew her best had so far guarded her secret well and kept it close to their hearts. She was not sure how much longer her ruse would last.
In truth, Amiria toiled only somewhat as she ran the brush through Thor’s magnificently splendid, black-as-coal mane. The horse was as massive and glorious as his master, if she pondered the matter hard and long enough. Why she continued to contemplate her lord in such a manner was beyond her comprehension. She knew better, and was continually aware no good could come from her romantic musings.
Amiria gave a long sigh at her predicament, for she could not say how much longer her subterfuge would hold out. If anything, she reflected sadly, ’twould be her young woman’s heart that betrayed her in the end. Oh, how tired she was of pretending to be other than what she truly was . . . a young woman ready to fall in love if such a magic love would but find her. How she longed to trade in her sword and have to lift nothing heavier than needle and thread. Although sewing was never one of her strong traits, she was more than capable of stitching a straight line, and ’twould be a most welcome relief . . . at least ’til she grew bored with the task, as she unfortunately always did. Such was the bane of her life.
Her mother, of course, would never have approved of her running around in hose and boots as she had of late. Torn between the memory of her sweet dame and the pride she had once seen in her sire’s eyes when she learned a particular move with a sword, Amiria gave a long drawn out sigh. She was stuck in a deception with an outcome that could only have a terrible ending. No matter how long she contemplated her problem, she knew within her heart that one of her parents would not approve of the choices she had made of late. And to fall in love with the very enemy who stole her land? Well . . . her Da would roll in his grave at the thought of such an occurrence.
With one last stroke and pat of Thor’s neck, she made to step from the stall, and was rewarded with an affectionate nudge from the huge beast. Her bubbly laughter gaily rang out, resounding with unabashed joy, afore she quickly stifled her mirth by clasping her hand to her mouth. With a fast look about the stable, she assessed that no other had been about to hear her laugh. Considering there had been nothing boyish about it, ’twas for the best that no one was there to question her.
Her solitude once more her own, Amiria reached for an apple and took delight in Thor’s obvious pleasure at this unexpected, yet special, treat. Sounds of him munching the fruit quickly ceased. Thor gave her another nudge and nickered, quite clearly a request to feed him more. She smiled at his antics and reached for another piece to reward the large warhorse.
“You shall spoil him if you continue so,” Ian’s voice came from the shadows and echoed off the stable’s walls.
A clear gasp of surprise escaped her lips and expressed her startled emotions whilst her eyes searched the darkness for Ian’s whereabouts. She stretched out her hand, offering the horse the second apple which he gladly accepted.
“If ’twas your intent to frighten me to my wits end, you have succeeded, sir,” she chided then closed the door to Thor’s stall.
“I but came to see if you survived your punishment and to offer my assistance,” he replied, as he came into the dusky light after closing the stable door.
“Somehow I do not think our Lord Dristan would welcome you coming to my aid, Ian,” she answered, and observed his careless shrug.
He continued to stare at her, as she did the same to him. The unrelenting silence stretched on between them ’til it became awkward. She had never become tongue tied in his presence afore and she worried their one moment they had tried to share had ruined the friendship between them.
Ian came to stand beside her and made as if to reach for her hand. She furthered her distance from him and watched as he quirked his brow in an unspoken question. Since Amiria did not have an answer to give him, she stepped back ’til she stood with her spine against one of the interior poles of the stable. A shiver ran down her body.
“We must have speech, Amiria,” he began honestly.
She shook her head in denial and began to gather the brushes to put them in their place. The task took her but a moment, and with nothing further to occupy her, she finally raised her eyes to meet his. “There is naught we must speak of, Ian.”
“Ach lass, you did not think we were finished did you? In all truthfulness, did you think I would not at some point wish tae continue where we left off in your chamber?” he fumed in frustration.
“’Twas a mistake that should never have happened,” she began, “you know that as well as I.”
“A mistake you say? How can you think we are a mistake, Amiria, when I love you so?”
“Oh, Ian. How many times must we remind ourselves that we can never be?”
He watched her closely and came to stand afore her ’til she had to tip her head back just to see into his angry hazel eyes. “’Tis him, isna it?”
“Who?” she inquired softly, although she knew within her heart whose name he would utter next.
“Let us play no games between us, lass. I have known you far too long for us to begin such,” Ian declared roughly.
“I know not of what you speak,” she replied, with a stubborn flip of her head.
“You think I have not noticed, Amiria, where your attention goes these days? You have been under my care and I have guarded you for how many years now, and you think I do not see what is happening in your heart?” Ian yelled. “You have watched Lord Dristan most earnestly these past many fortnights, Amiria...even I can see that!”
“Lower your voice lest you wish to bring others into this discussion,” she chided coolly.
“I care not who hears us! ’Tis time all know who you are and that you are mine,” he declared, and reached out to bring her into his embrace.
Amiria struggled against him and for the first time felt uncomfortable in his presence. He ran his hands all over her and she began to panic. Without thought, she swung back her arm and slapped him as hard as she could across his cheek. The sound cracked sharply, echoing loudly off the stable walls. ’Twas not hard to observe the red impression of the mark her fingers left on his handsome face, nor when his eyes glossed over with a rage she had never afore witnessed. She could not believe she had acted so rashly, and yet she fumed that he would act thusly with her.
“How dare you touch me so! Do you think me some lowly whore that you could make free with me here in the stables?” she demanded with tears in her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips, waiting for his answer, although in reality she was frightened by what flashed in his eyes. Ian rubbed his bruised cheek and inhaled to calm himself. He gazed at her closely, and Amiria knew that trepidation flashed in her violet eyes. ’Twas an expression she seldom showed to anyone, especially her captain.
“You are afraid of me. ’Twas naught my intent.” His harsh tone echoed in her ears as she watched him shake his head, most likely baffled by what he had almost succumbed to.
Amiria knew not how to answer, as his words were really not a question.
“We have spoken these words afore, Ian,” she voiced quietly, with a hint of sorrow in her words, “and they should not have to be repeated. We can never be anything more than friends.”
“I am still your captain, and I gave my oath to your sire to guard you.”
Amiria straightened her head gear to ensure everything appeared as it should to any possible observer. Then, she raised her misty eyes to him.
“Then guard me, Ian, but do not ask for more.” She stood her ground and watched as the resignation to their situation registered in his hazel eyes. “I cannot in truth give what you would have of me.”
She knew she had hurt him, but did not know what she could do to change anything. Amiria watched Ian nod to her. Just as he turned to leave the stables, the door was wrenched open. They quickly broke apart as a silhouette clearly appeared in the entrance. They watched in silence as the form came into the light. Amiria held her breath, for what she knew not was to come.
Riorden scrutinized the pair afore him with a scowl and approached them without words. He looked Ian up and down. “Leave us,” he ordered with a nod of his head towards the doorway. Ian gave a brief bow and left without further comment.
He came to Aiden’s side then circled the youth several times afore coming to stand once more afore him. He had to give the boy credit, for he stood his ground during the examination and defiantly raised his chin to look him straight in the eye. Silence stretched between them whilst Riorden continued his assessment of the boy whose nerves surely must be strung taut. The only sound to be heard was the occasional neighing of the horses stabled in their stalls.
Riorden reached out quickly and grabbed Aiden’s chin and the youth struggled for breath in surprise. He led the boy closer into the light of a nearby torch. He turned the boy’s face this way and that, trying to determine only what in truth the lad knew for sure. Still, Riorden continued to study Aiden’s dirty soiled features with his black brows brought together in a terrifying frown of perplexity.
“You are not what you seem, I think,” Riorden determined sternly, “and bare closer watching.” He at last released him as if he offended him in some way. “Get you to our liege’s chambers. He has asked you join him there.” Riorden stared at the boy, who seemed unable to move his feet. “That does not mean you go at your own whim. Now move, Aiden!”
Apparently, those orders were all that were needed to get the lad’s feet into motion as Aiden all but ran from the room. Riorden went to the doorway and watched as the young boy disappeared into the evening night in the direction of the keep. Aye . . . watch the boy he would, and closely, ’til he figured out what ’twas about the youth that disturbed him so.
Amiria made her way into the keep, pushing and shoving her way through the throng of men and serfs alike, who still gathered in the hall. The tables were in the process of being removed ’til needed for the next meal. Some of Dristan’s men grabbed blankets and took themselves off to find places to sleep upon the floor since the garrison hall was near to overflowing with his army. Her family, it seemed, had already retired for the evening and was no longer present in the Great Hall. She saw her men near the hearth and they rose as if to follow her upstairs. With a slight shake of her head, they ceased their movement and returned to their conversation, with the exception of one.
Killian made his way to her side and halted her progress up the stairs. His kindly eyes looked upon her like a daughter and all Amiria wanted to do was rest her weary head upon the shoulders of a man who was considered part of her family.
“I dinnae like this, lassie,” he whispered, for her ears alone. “Ye shouldna’ be serving him alone in his chambers.”
She only shrugged. “’Tis not such an unusual request to ask of one’s squire. Aiden must needs obey the dragon’s bidding.”
“Aye, Aiden mayhap, if ye were in truth a younger version of yer brother. Ye must put an end to yer deception afore it blows up in yer face, lassie!” Killian hissed.
Amiria patted his arm, not that it provided the man any comfort. “I know not how,” she whispered softly and watched him take his leave to return to the men.
Climbing the winding stone steps to the upper floors, Amiria passed numerous torches giving off a slightly smoky haze in the stairwell and corridors. Upon reaching the third floor landing, the passageway veered both to the left and right, leading to the family’s private chambers. Her normal path would have taken her along the stone flooring leading to the left towards her own chamber, but this night was different. She took a brief breath and turned right instead to obey the summons she had been given. Her feet, trudging along the passageway, felt heavier than ever afore from the weight of the lie she continued to take part in.
It took her what seemed only a moment ’til she came afore the chamber door that once housed her father for as long as she could remember. Without further delay, she knocked on the solid portal then opened the door when she heard the command to enter.
As the door swung inwards, Amiria felt as if the world as she knew it now traveled in slow motion. Her eyes beheld a sight she had never seen afore and caused her mouth to hang open in a silent O of startled surprise. There afore her, the Devil’s Dragon rose in all his naked splendor from the wooden tub. The water ran from his glorious body, causing it to glisten from the candlelight with a sleekness that left her breathless and reminded her in truth of an all-powerful dragon ready to take flight. Her heartbeat quickened and she at last remembered to draw breath since it had been taken from her at the sight of such magnificence. Yea, he was indeed most handsome, especially since his face was now completely shaven and she had a full view of his visage. If a man could be described as beautiful, ’twould certainly suit the man standing afore her now.
Dristan turned in her direction, and surely her expression could only be called stunned. “Hurry and come in, boy. And close the door. You are letting in a draft.” Amiria did as he directed but took her time whilst she tried to collect her thoughts. “Come, Aiden, and help your brother raise the pail to rinse me. He is having trouble lifting it.”
She turned her gaze back into the room and saw Patrick was indeed trying to haul the bucket, containing the rinse water, to their lord. He raised his eyes and Amiria knew he was not pleased his sister was in her current predicament. Even at only eight summers in age, Patrick knew ’twas not seemly that she was in the presence of a naked man. Their father would have never approved. Although assisting in the bathing of a guest was a regular routine and usually performed or directed by the lady of the castle, this ritual was always forbidden for Amiria to take part in by her sire. ’Til this moment, she thought never to see a man in such a state ’til her wedding night.
“Aiden! I grow cold,” Dristan bellowed and she could only imagine his thoughts as to what had befallen her to act so sheepish around him. After all, as far as he was concerned, they had the same parts.
Amiria came farther into the chamber and took hold of the pail in Patrick’s hands. Apparently, her brother had other ideas in mind and a pulling war commenced between them whilst he refused to give up the handle. Amiria gave one final tug, and her sibling at last released his grip with a decisive plea in his eyes, which she ignored whilst water sloshed from the pail. Her gaze averted from the man, who was patiently waiting, she slowly made her way to the side of the tub.
Standing upon a stool, she raised the bucket and dumped the contents of warm water over her lord. Stepping off the stool, she watched through lowered lashes whilst Dristan shook the water from his hair. He came out of the tub, took a drying cloth that Patrick now handed him, and began to rid himself of the water that dripped from his hard muscular body.
’Twas only when Dristan turned, dropping the now wet cloth to the floor, that Amiria’s situation finally penetrated her slow working brain. He was glorious to the eye with a body sculpted as if from stone. Her gaze raked in his body, noticing the broadness of his shoulders and the strength bulging in his arms. Moving her view lower she looked upon the ripples of rigid muscles stretched firmly across his stomach. She could not take her eyes from him, and blushed crimson when she glanced even lower to his manhood.
Amiria made as if to speak, but found herself unable to do so as her mouth became suddenly dry. After several attempts, she took one last look into her lord’s grey eyes and bolted for the door. Her cheeks, she knew, must be flaming red in embarrassment. Slamming the portal closed as she fled, she began running as fast as her feet would carry her.
As she dashed down the corridor, she could hear Lord Dristan’s voice roaring Aiden’s name. She halted briefly at her chamber door, but knew no solace would be found there since ’twas the first place he would search. Her mind quickly made up as she sprinted to the end of the hallway, Amiria gave only one brief hesitation afore she fitted her fingers between the rough worn stones and felt the catch to open the hidden doorway. Closing it softly behind her, she slipped into the darkened stairwell leading to the strand below. She did so cautiously, since she brought no torch with her to light her way in her haste to leave the castle. She changed her clothing for one’s she kept hidden in a chest far below afore she ventured out into the ocean air to clear her head.
The sea spray upon her face did much to lighten Amiria’s mood and she could only wonder what had caused her to become so soft. She had always been made of sterner stuff, or so her father and Aiden had oft said of her, especially when most women would fall into a swoon given what she had had to endure.
Amiria was sure, however, that no peace would find her this night, as the sound of Dristan’s voice continued ringing in her ears far into the still night whilst she walked the lone beach. Perchance, though, ’twas nothing compared to what her mind would remember if she but chose to close her eyes and ponder the matter. ’Twould take a miracle, she supposed, to erase the recent vision of Dristan from her memory. She did not think God above, in his infinite wisdom, would be so kind as to grant her that kind of a reprieve or favor any time soon . . . mores the pity.