The Lost Lady Page 6

  He steadied himself and gave her a wobbly bow, belching a deep, “My Lady.” His clothes were dirty and had a few good holes in them. The beard on his face was scraggily, and unkempt which reminded Luveday of the homeless on the streets and yet something about him was nagging her. She would usually ignore such men as she was not one to want a confrontation, but as she looked into his bloodshot eyes, something clicked into place.

  “Master Alexander?” She took a step closer and stopped not wanting to get another whiff of the man.

  His thin frame seemed to straighten. “At your service, Lady Luveday.” His attention seemed to focus on something behind her, and his eyes widened. Stumbling past, he started yelling at the masons again. Luveday cringed at the smell and the language he used. Luveday watched his disjointed movements across the bailey and was surprised when he made it to one of the mason’s wagons.

  Sir Gregori came into view and was heading for the head mason with a dark look when Luveday was able to grab his attention. She waved him closer, and he reluctantly changed directions to meet her while keeping an eye on the drunk. “My Lady?” It was more a question than a greeting.

  Luveday smiled at him, not sure how he would take the news. “I have found your head mason, Sir Gregori!”

  The knight’s smile was broad, but not entirely happy. There was a tightness around his eyes that spoke of anger. “And where is he now, Lady?” Gregori asked looking behind her into the darkened keep as if he would emerge from the shadows.

  The lady merely raised a hand and pointed across the yard. Gregori’s smile disappeared completely. He swore under his breath; something Luveday was sure she was not meant to hear. They watched as Dunstan and Archer headed for the man in question, but Gregori halted their movements with a wave and a dark look. “What do we do now, Lady?” The knight turned back to her.

  “We sober him up, clean him up, and hope that when we are done the man has enough brains left to lead the Masons.” She spoke bluntly, sure the situation called for it. Gregori smiled at her serious expression. The lady was ready for a fight.

  “We may have some ideas on how to make him human again.” Sir Gregori stalked off, toward his men. After a brief conversation, the trio surrounded the head mason. One minute he was yelling and the next laughter and then more yelling as Dunstan grabbed one arm and Archer the other. They dragged the man away, and Luveday wondered what they meant to do to the poor fellow and then thought it best if she didn’t know.

  The masons were none the wiser about the whole affair. Their queries made little sense to her, and so she walked them through their issues and in the process helped them answer their own questions. It seemed that as they struggled to explain the situation to her, they also clarified things for themselves. Critical thinking was all it took. From what Luveday gathered the walls were in good shape, but that would change if they were left much longer. The masons were hesitant to start not knowing what they should do first but soon decided that shoring up the steps would be the main priority as the staircase acted as a brace for a large section of the curtain wall. After which they would begin on the high wall and check the merlons on the battlements and the wall walk for signs of erosion. They were already mixing large batches of mortar to finish the minor repairs on the inner bailey. A group of men and a few masons were at the quarry cutting a few stones for larger repairs. With a direction firmly in place thanks to their talk and a bit of advice taken from Master Alexander’s rantings, the masons began their task. Luveday missed some rather devoted looks from the masons as she returned to the castle to help where she could and check on the progress of the midday meal.

  Supper was as congenial as lunch had been. There were a few scuffles between the workers, but only the usual sort of ‘my way is better’ arguments. Luveday assigned tasked and mitigated arguments by hearing both sides before deciding. She was still surprised when people listened to her and took her words as the voice of authority. She imagined it would take some time before she became used to the mantle of authority.

  Luveday sat with Elli and Agnes as conversation and laughter rolled through the hall. A commotion at the doors drew everyone’s attention. Gregori was up and greeting the newcomer before anyone recognized him. The knight embraced his companion; they spoke quietly as Gregori ushered him toward the women. As the pair approached, the mysterious man threw back his hood and removed his cloak. Luveday stood to greet the newcomer, recognizing his simple garments as a man of the cloth. He was not old, and yet not young. Luveday guessed he was in his late forties, but there was something about him that vibrated with vitality. Perhaps it was the happy crinkle at the corner of his eyes or his kind smile. “Lady Luveday,” Sir Gregori’s deep voice was full of mirth as he made the introductions. “May I introduce Father Nicholas Quinn, an old friend.”

  “It is my pleasure, Lady Luveday.” He bowed over the lady’s hand. His brown hair was graying around the temples and cut short to match his neatly trimmed beard.

  “Please sit, Father.” Luveday offered him a chair next to her, as she turned to Henna. “Please bring our new guest a trencher and another flagon of ale.” Henna rushed off to the priest’s words of thanks. “Have you traveled far?”

  Gregori took a bench next to the priest and answered for him. “Father Quinn has just returned from the Abbey.”

  The two men shared a smile that spoke of long acquaintance and some shared humor. “Aye, I rested a few days with the good ladies of the Abbey and was surprised to see Lady Emmalyn and fair Lady Christabel in residence.” Father Quinn looked questioningly at her, and Luveday got the feeling that he and Emmalyn had exchanged a good deal of their plans, but how much she wasn’t sure. “The lady sent me here, with a full wagon and some ideas about the village garden.” Twinkling eyes looked into hers, and she knew without a doubt that she was talking to a friend.

  “Your help is needed and greatly appreciated.” Luveday smiled ruefully at him. “I am afraid I barely know where to begin.”

  Elli chimed in from her customary spot next to the fire. “Lady Luveday has done well, Father Quinn.” Elysant beamed at them as her praise made Luveday blush. “There hasn’t been this much excitement since I was a child.” Luveday sometimes forgot that Elli had grown up in the keep, before leaving to join Emmalyn and returning before winter had set in.

  “There is much to be done, Father. And I am sure you were sent to us for a reason.” Luveday looked at him in earnest.

  He laughed. “I could say the same for you, My Lady.”

  The days progressed slowly and with much effort. There was only one incident that rattled Luveday’s composure, though it solidified her presence in the eyes of the people. Beatrice, the buxom serving woman, had been a thorn in her side since her arrival. They had not liked each other on sight, though Luveday had worked to be polite, Beatrice made no mistake about her dislike of the new lady.

  Truth be told, the serving woman was jealous of how easily the newcomer was accepted into the castle by Lady Emmalyn. Sure, the woman worked hard, but what was there to her? She was little better than the rest of them, a poor lady was nearly no lady at all, in Beatrice’s opinion. And why should another woman take up so easily at Lander’s Keep when the rest of them had worked so hard? It wasn’t fair, and Beatrice made sure everyone knew her thoughts on the matter.

  Luveday was aware that Beatrice’s dislike was about more than just her unexpected arrival, but lately, the woman’s grumblings were upsetting the other women as well. Luveday had overheard Agnes chastising the woman, but a good talking to had not improved her disposition. In fact, it seemed to have made it worse. Beatrice nagged and insulted and joked, trying to find an ear among the women, and while some might laugh at her crude jests, her pettiness towards the new lady did not go unnoticed. Her boldness often attracted someone’s attention, but Beatrice couldn’t find many who would agree with her about the lady that had schemed her way into the keep.

  It all came to a head on day four as the women prepared to
clean the garderobe. It was a task left undone too long, and while Luveday shuddered at the idea, it was better to do it now in the cool spring air than wait for the summer heat to make the issue known. Luveday had discreetly asked about the process of removing the offending matter, which she tried not to think about too much. She found out that it had helped to have straw and dirt dropped into the garderobe from above, and so it was done. Herbs were mixed in to help with the smell. The women wore a cloth over their hair, and the fabric that covered their faces had drops of essential oils to help block the noxious odors. The women were happy to take Luveday’s suggestion about the oils and were even more surprised to see the lady dressed similarly that morning. If Luveday had learned anything, it was that people in positions of power should never send someone else to do something they were not willing to undertake themselves. If she was to gain these people’s trust, she had to wade in with the rest of them.

  As the women gave her appraising looks, Beatrice who had yet to mark her arrival, loudly voiced her opinions about this particular task. “A lovely way to start the day!” She growled sarcastically. “I’ve no doubt Lady Luveday is enjoying her tea this morning while we shovel shit!” Luveday listened in silence and watched several women slowly inch away from the angry woman. “Ya think she was the lady of the Keep the way she’s been giving orders in Lady Emmalyn’s absence. Says the Lady Christabel orders this and that. Ha! That Lady won’t care to know how this castle is run as long as she gets her spoiled way.” The men started to gather and listen as they waited to cart away the refuse. “Lady Luveday’s just a mouthpiece, nothing more. Trying to gain favor with Lady Emmalyn before the Lord returns. Steppin’ in like this! Lady Christabel is too much the court lady to get her own hands dirty, Lady Luveday too.”

  “Be careful how you speak of your future lady, Mistress Beatrice!” Luveday’s voice was pitched low, but it carried across the opening before the wall. The outside space before the pit’s door was shaded by the castle walls, but even in the dim light, she could see her nemesis stiffen. Beatrice turned to her, taking a defiant stance planting her hands on her wide hips. The serving woman’s confidence wavered as she recognized Agnes as the cook came to stand beside the Lady.

  “You’re no Lady of Lander’s Keep, Mistress Luveday!” Gasps schoed around the group as women began to move towards the walls clearing the space; such disrespect was unheard of.

  “I may not be your lady, Mistress Beatrice, but Lady Emmalyn and Lady Christabel have left me in charge of this Keep while they are away, and I mean to have these tasks done, and a proper Keep awaiting their return.” She took a step toward the woman and spoke directly to her. “You are either my help in this endeavor or a hindrance, and if you are a hindrance, like any thorn in my shoe, you shall be removed.”

  Sputtering in anger, the woman took a step closer. “How dare you? The likes of you, threaten me?” She laughed venomously forgetting who was watching. “A little homeless upstart of a lady, taken in by the charity of others. You ungrateful, ignorant girl!” Beatrice took a swing and made a grab for Luveday, missing both times. “Emmalyn was a fool to let you…” The serving woman had missed the wooden shovel her opponent carried, and as she made another attempt to lay hands on the lady, Luveday sidestepped stuck out the shovel and felled the other woman. Swatting her on her arse as she fought to get back up sent Beatrice face first into the dirt of the courtyard. Laughter rang out through the crowd.

  “Misters Durstan, Archer and Warin, please escort Mistress Beatrice outside of the castle gate. Her presence is no longer needed here.” Luveday pulled all of her frazzled nerves together and tried to act the part of a lady rather than hit the daft woman over the head with her shovel, repeatedly, as she wished to.

  “With pleasure, Lady.” The men laughed and dropped their tools beside the wagon, to help Beatrice to her feet.

  As Luveday turned away, Beatrice was manhandled until she regained her footing. Seeing an opportunity to break free, she lunged for Luveday again, but the lady heard the gasps before a proper warning could be given. She turned ready to use the shovel as a weapon and accidentally connected with Beatrice, hitting her in the chest hard enough to throw her back and knock the wind out of her. The men collected their unwilling companion and dragged her out of the courtyard, no longer amused at the fight between the women. A spat between women was one thing, trying to harm a lady was something altogether different.

  Suffice it to say, once Beatrice was removed the women were able to work in relative peace and harmony.

  And so, the days turned into a week and by their end the castle, though still rather bare, gleamed with renewed splendor. There wasn’t a room that was left untouched. From the Lord’s solar to the deepest store room and darkest dungeon. Luveday and the women waded through a decade of dust and cobwebs, but every inch of the castle was cleaned, including the men’s barracks and outbuildings. Men worked to repair roofs, and furniture while the masons did their own work. By the end, Lady Emmalyn had still not returned though several wagons had appeared bearing her name and goods for the Keep. It seemed that what little coin the lady had taken with her had produced much. More wagons came from the Abbey baring cuttings and plants along with greetings from Lady Christabel and Mistress Adela. It seemed that Lady Emmalyn had moved off to visit friends nearby and would return in a few more days.

  As the week came to an end, the village waited expectantly for their turn. Some doubted that this new lady would keep her word, but as the first day dawned clear and bright, the masons, men-at-arms, serving women and Lady Luveday met the village men in an opening between the cottages. The mason’s wagons were followed by others as they brought out supplies to start the repairs. People began to leave their homes and help unload the wagons.

  “Father Quinn, good morning! The Creator has blessed us with a good day!” Luveday chatted excitedly. This was her chance to help rebuild the trust between these people and the Keep. She could almost feel the chasm closing between them.

  The father was up and ready to work. He had assured the lady that he was happy to oversee the building of the village garden; there was nothing he would enjoy more. “A good day indeed, Lady Luveday.”

  “I wonder if I might ask you to bless our endeavors again today, Father.” Luveday knew they would need all the help they could get.

  The man smiled as people gathered around. “It would be my pleasure.” Many bowed their heads as the priest asked for the Lord’s blessing. When he had finished chatter broke out around her, but soon fell silent again as many looked to her for where to begin. Speaking to the people had almost become a familiar practice for Luveday.

  “If the masons will begin on the cottages closest to the road and work this way. If you could please clear your hearths and let them look at the chimenies. Warin,” She looked to the salt and pepper haired man-at-arms, “you know what repairs need to be made, please help the masons.” She turned to Henna and Agnes. “Mistress Agnes, Henna,” both women smiled at her, “Please set up a cooking area at one end of the cottages, we need enough space to feed everyone.” There was some mumbling and happy jostling as they realized the Keep would be helping to feed them again. “Sir Gregori,” he approached with an “Aye, My Lady” and a smile. “Where would you like to work today?” The knight had many skills, and Luveday was unsure where to put him, so she left the choice in his hands.

  “I will help Father Quinn with the garden, if that is alright with you, My Lady.” Sir Gregori smiled again.

  Luveday couldn’t help smiling back. “That would be wonderful! Thank you, Sir Gregori.”

  The knight walked away, and Luveday heard him laugh as he threw the words over his shoulder. “The pleasure is mine, lady.”

  Elli appeared at her shoulder and looked at her expectantly. Luveday knew what she wanted and had trouble not laughing at her eager expression. “I think your skills would be best used in the garden as well, Elli.”

  Some of the women overheard and laughed, but the
girl didn’t mind. She just beamed at Luveday, and said, “Yes, My Lady.” Before running off to chatter at the knight. The women smiled and started to work.

  Luveday approached the first house and waved over some women. The masons were already at work with a wagon of thatch pulling up to help repair some of the roofs. Luveday has started collecting the needed items for the village a few days in advance to have things at hand, rather than wait for them.

  The first house was larger than most but other than that; the village was rather nondescript. The stone and thatch cottages were all whitewashed with their color fading, stones separating, doors hanging ajar. Repairs were visible, but not well done. The buildings were spaced haphazardly with the main thoroughfare dividing them roughly in half, perpendicular to the main road. The majority of the cottages lay to the right of the road with a hand full off to the left. Some had small gardens between, but they looked barren and unkempt. There were more homes scattered across the countryside, and she had every intention of seeing them as well, but the main focus was the main body of cottages.

  Looking inside, Luveday spotted Cassandra, Warin’s wife, the village healer, and midwife. The woman looked frazzled by the activity in her home. Cassandra saw the lady and came out, leaving the men to fix her hearth and home. “My Lady, can I be of service?” The older woman asked. Cassandra was strikingly beautiful. Age had not diminished the beauty of her long dark hair, her tall and fair build, but the woman was known for being as kind as she could be stern.