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Seven
Dristan jerked awake instinctively reaching for his sword in reflex from years of living on edge. He was prepared to meet any unknown danger afore him even subconsciously, thus the soft feather mattress of the bed beneath him surely gave him pause. He had not felt such comfort in quite some time. His gaze searched the grand chamber he found himself in and relaxed once he realized where he slept and for how long. Since the fire within the hearth had long since died down to but a few red glowing embers, he presumed he had slumbered several hours.
Laying his sword aside, he rose naked from beneath the warm coverings still unsure of what had caused him to rouse at such an early hour. Kneeling afore the hearth, he took bits of dry kindling and placed it on the small embers of coal. It took but a few breaths to have the wood ignite with a crackle, and Dristan at last was able to put several logs upon the flames to take the chill from the room.
’Twas then he heard the faintest of sounds. He stopped to listen to the distant and bewildering melody of bagpipes playing somewhere outside the keep. Going to the shutters, he opened them and realized ’twas later than he thought. As his eyes strained to see in the early morning gloom, he began to ponder if the sun ever dared to show itself this far north. ’Twould be a most welcome change.
He inhaled deeply of the fresh salty sea air, even as his eyes searched the strand below and beyond the castle walls for the source of the tune coming to his ears. As if he conjured the sun out himself from the bleakness of the skies above, the clouds parted and rays of sunlight shone upon the lone figure of a woman surrounded in the morning mist. He blinked his eyes to ensure she was in truth really afore his vision and not just some mythical faerie he had imagined since the scene appeared so enchanted and surreal.
Dristan’s breath caught at the sight of this solitary lady, staring off at the ocean waves. Although her back was to him, he took note of the length of her long, flowing red hair, reflecting coppery hues from the sunlight shining down upon her. The breeze caught and tangled her wild and riotous curls in a tantalizing dance about her unknown face, enticing him further.
Desire coursed through Dristan’s veins with a need so compelling his only thought was how he wanted to pull the woman to him and bury his hands in those disheveled tresses. Her features were a complete mystery to him and yet even from the distance separating them, he felt he would recognize her anywhere. His hands began to tingle with the thought of them encircling her narrow waist. The color of her windswept gown appeared to be of a lavender bluish hue. It flowed about her body, adding to the spell wrapping itself around him. He felt himself harden whilst he envisioned the woman writhing beneath him in his bed.
The sounds of the mournful melody ended abruptly, and he watched whilst the woman sharply turned her head, looking up towards the castle. With the last notes of music echoing on the wind, the sun went back into its place of hiding. He watched in dismay as the mist began to thicken and all but swallowed up the lady upon the sand within the breath of a heartbeat. If he had not witnessed for himself what had been but moments ago afore his eyes, he would have thought he had dreamed the whole illusion and still lay abed, slumbering.
He shook his head, giving a snort of disgust at where his fanciful thoughts had taken him and wondered where such undisciplined feelings had come from. Mayhap he would have speech with Kenna after he had broken his fast. Dristan surmised a curse had been cast upon him and his healer must surely be about some mischief with a potion or two. He would be more careful henceforth of what mayhap was put into his wine.
Amiria carefully slid open the door to the hidden compartment and peered into the passageway to ensure the way was clear. Since no sound could be heard and no person seen, she squeezed herself through the opening and quietly closed the door. She quickly made her way along the flooring with soft footfalls. Surprisingly, her steps made little sound as she rushed towards her chamber.
She looked to and fro to safeguard her deception whilst she hurried down the corridor, giving only the briefest pause afore sadness overtook her when she scurried past the oak portal leading to her parent’s old chamber. ’Twas somewhat difficult having the knowledge of whom no longer resided within. With haste, she quickened her step as her own chamber door loomed afore her then she silently slipped within. She leaned her forehead upon the closed door, slid the bolt home to ensure her privacy and let her breath leave her body with a heavy sigh. She had made it!
Turning, she let out a gasp of fright. Sabina yanked a fistful of her hair and pulled her into the center of the room.
“Have you lost your wits?” Sabina hissed at her sibling. Her eyes took in her clothing with disgust. “What game do you play now that you must put us all in peril with your latest ploy?”
Amiria lifted her head and stared her younger sister in the eye. “I owe you no explanation nor do I put us in danger. I will dress as I wish since ’twas by my arm and sword that at least kept us safe but a few fortnights longer. You have no right to question me and my motives further!”
“Ha! You started this ploy to dress as our brother and now you put on your finest gown to roam where you will. How come you think this does not put us in danger Amiria?”
“I was discreet,” she stated simply.
Sabina looked at her sister coldly. “Mayhap you play another game . . . one of a more womanly nature,” she prompted.
“What do you mean?”
Sabina strode about the room and went to sit by the hearth, combing her fingers through her long brown locks with a dreamy expression on her visage. “He is most handsome is he not?”
“Who is this you speak of now?” Amiria questioned irritably.
“Why, our Lord Dristan, of course,” Sabina smiled calculatingly. “I could have him if I so willed it, and have seen the desire in his eyes when he gazes upon me.”
Time seemed to stand still. Amiria looked upon her sister, who now had this far off look in her eyes. “Surely you jest, Sabina?”
“Jest? Why no, Amiria, I do not jest and will do all I can to please our new liege lord,” she taunted. “Mayhap I will even take him to my bed.”
Amiria gasped. “And you dare to ask me if I have lost my wits? In truth you must be mad to suggest such a thing and such vile talk will have our beloved parents turning in their graves,” she chided, making the sign of the cross.
Sabina tossed her hair with a flip of her hand. “I but speak the truth . . . I could have him if I choose to pursue the matter. Besides . . . what better way for me to remain the lady of this hall?”
“Sleeping with our lord will not make you lady of this keep, Sabina, but only his whore,” Amiria said solemnly.
“I will be no whore, but his wife, if I but have my way,” she reflected aloud, and continued with a dreamy expression on her usually angry face. “Oh, to have one such as he as a lover. Truly, he would know how to please a woman such as me.”
Amiria looked at her sister as if seeing her for the first time. “I am horrified you would speak so sister and know you not at all. Perchance ’tis best mother is long since in her grave. With speech such as this, she surely would have taken you by force if necessary to Habersham Abbey and leave you with the good sisters to repent your evil talk and ways. Mark my words, Sabina, no good shall come if you pursue this course rattling around in your head,” Amiria scolded.
“Bah! You are jealous I will call that handsome man my own one day.”
“Mayhap you should get yourself to yonder chapel now to spend some time upon your knees and repent your wicked thoughts instead of thinking of our lord in such a manner.”
Sabina only looked upon her elder sister with malice shining in her eyes. “I have better things to do than have my knees ache from hours kneeling upon the hard floor,” she sneered, rising from the stool and heading towards the door. “I must see to the meal to break my lords fast. Since you have always enjoyed wearing men’s garments, I suggest you get into them without haste and once more look the boy, Amiria. After all . . . you play the part so very well.”
Amiria watched her sister leave the room, a smug smile still shining on her face. She fondly gazed down at her dress and smoothed the fabric beneath her trembling fingers. She rarely wore this gown, afraid of ruining the linen. A moment of sorrow overtook her as she remembered when her mother had chosen the cloth when a merchant had come to show his goods to the lady of the keep. Her mother had said the lavender color would bring out the violet in her daughter’s eyes. Amiria and Lynet had lovingly sewed the garment many months after their mother’s death and the gown had become one of her favorites.
The truth of Sabina’s words came back to haunt Amiria, and, with a heavy sigh, she began the process of carefully taking off her gown and donning hose and tunic once more. Perchance soon she would be able to put the guise of a boy behind her and become the lovely young woman she was in truth supposed to be. As she took some dirt she had hidden away, grimacing as she rubbed it upon her face, she prayed with all her heart her charade would end soon, else she forget how to act the role of a lady forevermore.
