Rhys turned to Heather. “Do not leave the keep and God help you if do not obey me on this.” The door closed abruptly behind him.
Heather stared at the door that trembled in the Dragon’s wake. He was angry and why not? His troop had been attacked without the slightest warning, a shocking revelation for warriors known for their exceptional skills of seeing and hearing everything, and now two of his sentinels had been killed. How could that be? How could anyone slip past such highly trained warriors? They could not unless their skills equaled or surpassed the ghost warriors.
With heavy thoughts and slow steps, Heather snatched up some meat and bread off the table before returning to the chair by the fire. She wondered if the McLauds or McDolans were somehow involved. Though the question begged, why would they be? Her marriage had yet to be announced. And the two clans certainly had no such skills as those she saw today. So, who then was skilled enough to best the Dragon? And why would anyone want to?
She was just finishing her wine when a knock sounded at the door, and she bid the person enter.
Nessa stepped in. “The Dragon ordered a bath prepared for you. It is being readied now.”
Of course he would, Heather thought. It would see that she remained in the keep, and also see that she was presentable for their wedding night. The reason mattered not though, for she longed to bathe and wash away not only the grime but her aches as well.
“How thoughtful of him,” Heather said, for she would not speak ill of her husband to anyone. She followed Nessa to the bedchamber and stepped into the room and around the servants who were busy filling a metal tub that had been placed before the hearth.
Heather’s eyes were caught by the substantial bed dressed with fresh bedding that dominated the room. The pillows were fluffed and the blanket drawn back in anticipation of the night ahead.
Her hand went to her stomach at the thought of climbing into bed tonight, for she would be doing more than simply sleeping there.
“All ready, my lady,” Nessa announced.
Heather turned to see that all the servants were gone, but Nessa. She waited by the tub. Heather went over to her and though she used no servant at home when she bathed or dressed, she knew it was expected of her here. She let Nessa help her undress, eager to get in the tub and soak her aches away. She stopped Nessa when she wentto touch the blue ribbon that held the metal ring Quinn had made for her.
“I will see to this,” she said and slipped it off, rolling the ribbon up carefully and placing it in her healing pouch to keep it safe. It would not do for her husband to see it. It was for her and her alone and she would seek its comfort when necessary.
Once done, she sunk down into the hot water with a sigh.
Nessa got busy pouring water on her hair and then scrubbing it with a slab of soap Heather had instructed her to find amongst her belongings.
“Lavender,” Nessa said with a smile as she scrubbed Heather’s hair.
“It is grown in my garden at home,” Heather said and closed her eyes as Nessa’s fingers massaged her head. She let herself enjoy the moment, but as soon as Nessa rinsed her hair and was about to wash her, Heather stopped her and took the cloth from her. “I will see to scrubbing myself. What I want from you, Nessa, is to tell me what you meant when you said that many of the villager folk had disappeared—swallowed whole by the Dark Dragon.”
Nessa shook her head as she moved off her knees to sit cross-legged beside the tub. “The ghost warriors arrived here shortly after Fane McComb died with documents that showed the Dark Dragon now owned the land and all on it. Repairs began to be made and suddenly older clan’s people starteddisappearing. No one saw them take their leave. They just disappeared along with their belongings. There was nothing left of them. Then young women began arriving, wives to the ghost warriors who were already here and they settled in the abandoned cottages.”
“No one heard or saw anything?” Heather asked, feeling a chill, though the water remained warm.
“Nothing,” Nessa whispered as if frightened that someone would hear. “Not a trace of them, it was as if they were never here.”
“Have all the aged folk disappeared? None of the young ones?”
“Some older ones still remain, though they fear one day they will be snatched away like the others.” She leaned closer to Heather. “A few young lasses have vanished, though some say they have heard screams coming from the upper floor of the keep and that the Dark Dragon keeps them as slaves to satisfy his endless lust. It is forbidden for anyone to go to the upper floor.” Nessa crossed herself, as if protecting herself from evil, as she stood. “You best not linger, my lady, the water will chill soon.”
Heather finished and was soon dried and wearing a pale-yellow nightdress, the hem falling to cover her feet, the sleeves hugging her wrists, and ties keeping the low neckline drawn tightly together. It was a favorite of hers, soft and comfortable.
She sat combing her wet hair while Nessa directed the servants in clearing the tub from the room. Once that was done, Nessa saw that a pitcher of wine was left for her, presumably to help her face the night ahead.
Once alone, Heather found herself restless. Her thoughts continued to drift to what Nessa had told her about the Dragon keeping young women prisoners in a room on the upper floor. Somehow, she did not think it was true, but it could be that she did not want it to be true. The only way to settle her worries was to see for herself.
Heather hurried out of the room, closing the door gently behind her, not wanting to alert anyone to her nightly excursion, especially to forbidden territory. But if caught, she could feign ignorance. After all, she had only arrived and knew little of the keep’s workings and rules.
She took the stairs quickly and once she stepped off the top step, she had second thoughts. The small area was dimly lit, one wall sconce holding a torch that barely flickered. There were three doors, one to the left and the other to the right and the third door sat between the other two.
Something told Heather that that was the room in question, but to be thorough or perhaps out of fear, she decided to explore that room last. With cautious steps, she proceeded to the room on the left and slowly opened the door. She had to open it all the way to allow light from the torch sconce to fill the room, if only partially.
It was not necessary to explore the whole room. One glance told Heather it was once the lady of the keep’s solar. Here was where the lady of the keep could spend time for herself with her embroidery or simply seeking some solace. A fine covering of dust alerted her to the fact that it had not been used for some time.
Heather closed the door behind her and went to the door on the right, opening that one slowly as well. It appeared it was a room where unwanted furniture was stored and as Heather went to close the door, her eyes caught on the cradle stuck beneath some chairs.
Dusty and forever childless, the piece appeared forlorn, discarded along with other furniture that had been of no use. She closed the door, feeling sorry for the empty cradle and for the woman who had had such hope of filling it.
