The Valcourt Heiress (Medieval Song 7)

Merry thought she saw the outline of a young girl, gowned all in white, from her white slippers to a wimple so large it hid her entire face. Her mother spoke, but she couldn’t understand her words. The girl spoke, did she sound upset, even angry? Why was that? But then the door closed and her mother returned. She looked down at Merry, frowned, and walked to the far side of the room. Merry watched her pull back the fox skin that covered the window. Cool air poured into the room. She sucked in the clean, sweet night air, thinking about nothing else but drawing in the pure air coming into her mouth.

Even though her belly no longer cramped, she continued to rub her palms over herself. I’m not dying, I’m not dying. She doesn’t want to kill me, she wants me alive so she can sell me. Finally, she could think clearly, and remember. When had they taken her? Not much later than midnight, surely. So, they had brought her directly to Meizerling, to her mother, but how was that possible? Meizerling Abbey was at least a day’s ride from London, and it was still night. Had she been unconscious longer than a day? No, she didn’t think so. She wasn’t at Meizerling, she was somewhere else, and that meant no one would know where to search for her.

Or Jason of Brennan was in the next room. That made more sense.

Wherever they’d brought her, she knew she was on her own.

Merry breathed slowly, lightly, continued to lightly rub her belly, still afraid of the cramps and the horrible heaving to return, but there was nothing but calm, thank St. Cuthbert’s tonsured head.

“Thank you,” she said, but didn’t look at her mother, rather down at her night robe, then at her own bare feet, and she realized she was very cold. She sat up, her back against a soft headboard, and tucked her feet under her and pulled the blanket around herself.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Nearly six hours.”

“Then of course I am not at Meizerling.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until her mother said, “No. You are in a special place of mine, a retreat of sorts where I may study and hone my skills without fear of interruption.”

“Where is Jason of Brennan? Is that murdering worm in the next room, waiting with a priest?”

Her mother laughed. “I would imagine at this moment, your future husband is trying his best to find Arthur’s silver coins.”

“If he finds Arthur’s silver, then why would he want to wed with me?”

“Don’t be stupid. He gives me the silver and I give him you and Valcourt. He kept muttering about his father, Lord Ranulf, but how could Ranulf know what is happening? Is the silver really his? I don’t know, but I suppose so, since where would Jason get that kind of wealth? In any case, once I have the silver, then it will be too late.”

Merry said, “Jason will not get himself into Wareham again. Aleric is on the alert, all are on the alert. There is no way for him to sneak in, much less search for the silver coins.”

Her mother waved away her words, her smooth white hand graceful as it cut through the air. She actually laughed. “I am certain all the people at Wareham will welcome a tinker with laden mules.”

A tinker? By St. Mildred’s croaking voice, they would let a tinker in, gladly; she knew she would were she at Wareham. “What a clever idea.”

“Thank you.”

“Even so, what can one man do? Wareham is a vast keep. It makes no sense, unless Jason has somehow found out where the hiding place is?”

“He told me he did. Who confessed the hiding place to him? I do not know. He only smiled and refused to tell me. Ah, what a blow it was that Arthur died before he could tell Jason where he’d hidden the silver. There would have been no need for the Black Demon, no need for all the butchery at Wareham.”

“What do you mean? Lord Arthur was poisoned, at least that is what everyone at Wareham believes.”

Her mother only shrugged.

“No one knows where the silver is hidden, no one.”

“Evidently you are wrong. Jason is too afraid of me to lie about that. He now knows, but like I said, I do not know who told him.”

“Jason is a coward, he would not have the stomach to enter Wareham. It is Sir Halric who will be the tinker, and Aleric will recognize him and hold him for Garron.”

“I very much doubt that Halric is any longer of this earth. He was incompetent. I ordered Jason to kill him.”

Merry only wished she could have been the one to kill Sir Halric. She cocked her head at her mother. “Do you really believe this time Jason will find the silver and somehow manage to get it out of Wareham?”

“Since he is following my plan, it is more than possible. I told him how to enter Wareham, told him exactly what to do once he is inside the walls. And since he claims that now he knows where Arthur hid all the coins, I have told him how to get it out of Wareham as well. And when he brings me Arthur’s silver, Jason can have you with my blessing.”

Her mother walked away from the narrow bed and strode across the room to the fireplace. She realized in that moment that the room was oddly shaped, like a quarter moon, that was it. Where was she?

Her mother turned toward her. “You understand so very little. Do you know, I think it would be amusing if after all his adventures, Jason’s father chooses not to plead with the king to let you remain Jason’s wife.”

“If I were Jason’s father, Lord Ranulf, I would travel to Rome to beg absolution for having birthed him in the first place.”