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“You claim to love your sister and yet you aid your husband in instigating an attack that will undoubtedly see Edingham at war.”
Lady Hilla wants to be brave. She glares at me, wishing to lash out. And yet, she holds back. Her sister would not do so. But then, her sister wields more power than most.
“You claim,” she says, gathering her skirts, now muddied at the hems, around her ankles, “to serve the Prima. To be a man of God. And yet you take an unarmed woman captive.”
I never claimed either of those things, but I will not point out such a fact to her.
Like most people, silence unnerves Lady Hilla.
“I will answer your questions, Elderman,” she spits out, the fire crackling in front of us. I’d not have lighted one had I thought anyone might encounter our camp. But here, so far off the main roads, I am certain we are safe.
For now.
“But you must tell me your name.”
An easy enough request to fulfill.
“Father Aiken.”
She blinks. As expected, the name means nothing to her.
“Father Aiken,” she repeats, her voice low. Sensual, one might say. “Why does the Prima care suddenly for my sister’s well-being?”
He doesn’t.
She scowls. “Very well. I did not aid my husband. I was as unwilling to be in Craighcebor as I am here, right now with you.”
I wait for her to continue.
“He never allows me to leave his sight when we travel,” she insists. “Ever.”
“Including taking you to battle? You can understand my reluctance to believe such a thing.”
“I care little for your beliefs, Elderman.”
I lean forward. “Why ask for my name if you do not intend to use it?”
This time, tis Lady Hilla who remains silent.
“Shall I remind you, your fate is in my hands, Lady Hilla.”
My words have their intended effect.
“Nay, Father Aiken, it is not.”
Whether she refers to God, or something different, I know not. But not for the first time today, I find something to respect in a woman I very much dislike.
She could be forgiven for having an affair, given Lord Whitley’s repulsive countenance, not to mention his advanced age. And if she truly was taken to that village by force, tis possible the lady is innocent of complicity.
But one thing I cannot forgive. Remaining with such a man. Rumor has it the queen attempted to welcome her sister back to court after their father died. But the lady refused.
Why stay with him if not because his beliefs aligned with her own? Divorce is not unheard of here on the Isle, and certainly not if your sibling is the queen.
“Tis late.” Without another word, I ready myself for the eve. Taking off the thick robes that mark me an Elderman, I lay them down on the ground close enough to the fire to gain some warmth but not so close to risk getting burned.
After adding another log to the fire and stoking it, I lie on the ground with nothing under me but my robes. “There is a bedroll laid out already,” I say, unable to see her. “Go to sleep.”
Trained to listen closely, I can tell when she stands, where she moves, and that instead of moving toward the bedroll, Lady Hilla is above me instead.
