I knocked on the door and waited until I heard Lord Warwick’s call to enter.He wasn’t alone.Bethel was seated, and it looked like she had been crying.She didn’t look up from her lap as I entered.
‘Good morning, Caris.Is there something you wish to speak to me about?’he asked hopefully.
‘Yes, my lord.’I glanced at Bethel, not wanting her to be privy to my request.
‘That will be all, Bethel,’ he said, seeming relieved that he had an excuse to end the tearful meeting with his eldest daughter.She rose quickly and without a word.I saw a hint of fear in her eyes when she looked at me.I ignored her probing gaze, and her fear turned to a scowl before she left me alone with her father.
Lord Warwick grimaced at me as the door closed behind Bethel.‘It seems she is eager to return to Capita.’
I moved to stand before Lord Warwick, surprised by this revelation.
‘Bethel is worried Goodwin will retract his proposal to her and offer it to another while we are here in Murus,’ he said with a sigh.
‘Doesn’t she know why you came to Murus?’It perplexed me that Bethel was a willing participant in this arranged marriage.Surely, the suspicious demise of her mother would be a concern for her?
‘Yes, but you see, my eldest has ambitions,’ he said warily, shaking his head.
I didn’t know how to reply.Bethel had acted like a jealous lover, staging an erotic show for someone she perceived as a threat.She had risked her own engagement and Torgrin’s rank to make her ownership of him clear.Yet she still wanted to marry Goodwin?Did she want to be queen so badly that she was willing to ignorethat King Hared might have killed her mother?Bethel and I were very different daughters.
‘So, what brings you here today?’he asked.
‘I’ve had an urgent letter from home, and I wish to ask your permission to return.’
‘Is it the man who raised you?The one who is unwell?’he enquired kindly.
‘Yes,’ I admitted.
‘Take as long as you need, Caris.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Within the hour, I had saddled Nightmare and packed enough supplies for my trip.As I left the fortress, I saw Torgrin and Atlas talking by the gates.I didn’t stop when they called to me, partly because of how strained things were between us, and partly because I didn’t have a moment to spare.
I rode hard, promising Nightmare a good rest when we reached the river.We stopped only to sleep and eat, although I spent most of the night lying on my back, staring at the sky, willing the daylight to come.The sun rose early both mornings as if I had made it do so.
It was midday of the next day when I arrived.The forge was silent, and emptier than I’d ever seen it.The hearth sat cold, no warmth or light was left in the blackened stones.Both chimneys were still and dark, and it hit me how long it must have been since they’d last seen a fire.I swallowed the ache in my throat and led Nightmare towards the barn, the one place that still felt familiar.Inside, there’d be fresh water and hay waiting for her.She nickered softly, a greeting to the old black mare who’d birthed her.Nightmare’s sire – Iain’s towering grey stallion – had been gone for years now.
‘I’ll take care of that wretched mare for you.’
Dana held her plump arms wide, and I went to her like a child.
‘How is he?’I whispered to the older woman.
She patted my back.‘You need to go to him.I think he’s been holding on for you.’
The cottage door creaked as I opened it, my steps were hesitant as I walked across the sparse but tidy room.I rested my forehead against the rough wooden door to Iain’s room and took a steadying breath.
Keep the Darkness in.Don’t let it take down this cottage too.
The room was warm, and sunshine from the window caught the dust motes that floated above Iain’s still form.Once a sunny yellow, his hair lay completely white against the linen, and his face … gods, his face had hollowed in on itself, all rough edges and shadow.I could barely see the man I’d once known in the fragile skin and bone left behind.
For years, something unseen had been gnawing at his mind, stealing his thoughts and memories piece by piece.And when it had finally robbed him of himself, it turned on his body, hollowing him out until he could no longer work.I had kept the forge going on my own, feeling his absence with every strike of the hammer even though he was only a few steps away.But now, as I stood by his bed, I felt the weight of all those lost moments.Every word we hadn’t shared, every laugh that had faded before it was heard.
My throat tightened as I reached for his hand, once so strong it could bend iron.Now, it was cold and limp in mine, the life I had always thought indestructible slipping through my fingers.He was too still, his chest hardly rising with harsh, shallow breaths.
‘Little Worm?’
My heart soared at the nickname and the recognition I saw in his eyes.
