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Reena was stunned by the announcement, but when she reexamined the last few days, she realized that everyone at his keep had been busy preparing for a planned departure. Magnus had had all intentions of traveling to Dunhurnal, and he would have passed through Kilkern property.
She recalled his interest in the Dunhurnal map and now she understood why, and she wondered if it had any relevance to his decision to trade his protection for her mapmaking skills.
He was not obligated to tell her of his plans, so why did she feel a sense of betrayal? The Legend owed her no explanation, and yet she felt he should have told her of his intentions. She attempted to settle the nagging accusation with the thought that the villagers had a new lord and would be safe. But that knowledge did little to ease her unrest and concern regarding the fact that he had not informed her of his being the new lord of Dunhurnal. Why had he felt it necessary to keep the information from her? And was there more he refused to share?
The villagers set to work gathering their personal belongings and items of importance they wished to take with them. Several women helped old Margaret dig up many of her herb plants and bundle them adequately for travel. They bundled her dried herbs as well, for the plants were an essential part of her healing skills.
The few animals that remained were not in the best of health, Peter Kilkern having taken most of their prime stock, but they were not to be left behind and were tethered to the wagon.
Reena worked hard helping as many as she could, and it was only after her mother and father were comfortably settled in a wagon, along with the few villagers too ill to walk, that she saw to her own meager belongings.
There was not much to take. The important items—her quills, inkbottles and papers—were already packed in her satchel. Her garments consisted of one linen shift, two tunics, and an old bone comb for her hair. The most difficult part of gathering her things were her memories of the only home she had ever known.
It was here in this small cottage that she’d been raised. She remembered much laughter, good food and her daily studies, her mother having taught her to speak fluent French and Latin, she in turn having learned from her uncle, a cleric who felt knowledge was important. And then there had been her father’s patience in teaching her to draw. He would smile at her efforts and encourage her. Her mother would attempt to teach her to cook, the lesson often ending in laughter, since no food Reena prepared ever proved eatable. And then there had been those moments of silence when she’d sat snuggled in a blanket before the hearth, her father busy at the table with his maps and her mother sitting in the rocking chair, stitching.
She had good memories here, but it was time to take them with her to her new life.
Reena’s mother held out her hand to take her daughter’s small satchel as she approached the wagon.
Reena smiled, seeing the plump little pup curled in her mother’s lap, fast asleep. He had exhausted himself making new friends and begging for food, which all willingly shared with him.
“You will ride with us? You look fatigued,” her mother said, taking the bundle from her. “It will be good to talk with you at length.”
“That is up to Lord Dunhurnal,” her father said.
The title gave her a start. He was a lord and she could no longer call him Magnus. The thought upset her, for she had fast considered him a friend, enjoying his company and his smile.
Smile?
Feeling flustered and considering her father’s words, she excused herself so that she could locate her new lord and seek his permission to walk alongside her parents’ wagon. She would not ride in the wagon when there were many who needed it more.
All was in readiness, and excitement was high in the air. Laughter, smiles and children’s giggles were heard, and Reena’s heart swelled with joy, for merriment had returned to her people.
She found Magnus in the lead, his warriors dispersed throughout the line of villagers. Her horse waited next to his, and she realized he expected her to ride beside him.
What surprised her was that Brigid stood speaking with Magnus, and while she was pleased that her plan to put them together had taken little effort on her part, she felt a strange ache in her stomach. She ignored it and thought on how well they looked together, Brigid beautiful, and he handsome—a perfect pair.
“You are very kind, my lord,” Reena heard Brigid say as she approached. Both of their smiles widened when they caught sight of each other. It was so good to be back with family and friends, and she could not wait to be alone with Brigid and ask her what she thought of their new lord.
Magnus summoned Thomas with a wave, and it was brief and hasty orders he issued. “Thomas, assist Brigid with her needs.”
The big warrior hesitated a moment, as if debating Magnus’s instructions, then he lowered his head, stepped aside, and waited for Brigid to lead.
“Your name is Thomas?” Brigid asked, stepping closer to him.
“Aye, Thomas,” he repeated.
Reena watched them together. Thomas was obviously uncomfortable in front of Brigid, but her friend would see to his unease, and she was sure they would be friends in no time.
“I am pleased to meet you and grateful that you will help me,” Brigid said and walked slowly so that he would walk along with her.
Reena looked to Magnus. “All is ready for departure, my lord?”
He studied her for a moment. “You will call me Magnus.”
“As you wish.” She was relieved that he did not insist she use his title. She felt more at ease, more of a friend, referring to him by name.
He raised his hand slowly, all the while keeping his eyes on hers as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You have gone without sufficient sleep these last few days and require rest.”
