later.”
“Such trickery.” Adrien inhaled deeply, then sighed. “Should Lord Taurin arrive here, I want to be ready for him.”
“Aye. And it sounds like the guild masters in Colchester would be quite happy to tell Lord Taurin where to look, especially since it would take him away from their town.”
“True. They’re a devious lot.”
Kenneth studied Lord Adrien. “Do you know Lord Taurin, milord?”
“I know only of him. He did not fight at Hastings. Regardless, his family has enough influence with King William to earn him an estate without military service. His land is to the west, I believe.” He paused. “All this trouble over a runaway slave.”
Who is too foolish to realize her child would be better off with his father, Kenneth thought. Lord Taurin had wealth from Normandy. Couldn’t the mother see that the father would be able to give his son far more than she could?
Giving up the child may save her own life, too. And it would spare the town from Lord Taurin’s anger. Nay, for the sake of Dunmow, ’twould be best if the child was found and handed over to Taurin. Even a blind person could see this.
Kenneth stood tall. “We need to find this girl and her child immediately,” he stated. “’Tis best for Dunmow if we hand the child over to Lord Taurin as soon as he arrives.” Adrien nodded his agreement. “But,” Kenneth continued, “what punishment should be laid upon the midwife who brought this trouble to us?”
Adrien stood and rubbed his cheek. “As much as I would like to punish Clara for her secrecy, I cannot forget she has saved my wife’s life. I will address her deceit, but in my own time.”
Of course. Kenneth suspected that Adrien would keep her handy until his wife and son were well out of danger. He couldn’t blame the man, for Adrien loved his wife with a powerful love that Kenneth secretly envied. Not for love’s sake, but for the peace and happiness such love gave his baron.
“What are we to do with Clara in the meantime?”
Adrien sighed. “As much as I am grateful to her for saving Ediva’s life, I won’t have the woman near my wife or child unless she’s absolutely needed. Escort her to her hut and watch her closely. Indeed, you must guard her well. Who knows what Lord Taurin will do should he find his way here. I won’t lose Dunmow’s only healer.”
Adrien scrubbed his face with his hands, then rotated his arms as if to loosen stiff muscles. Kenneth frowned. Lord Adrien had pledged to Lady Ediva that he would keep all of the people in the keep and the village of Little Dunmow safe. He grimaced. That meant even Clara of Colchester, for all the trouble she’d brought.
“I wonder where she’s hidden the pair,” Adrien finally mused.
“We’ll find out soon enough. Clara will eventually reveal their location, either by accident or by traveling there herself. She’s been with Lady Ediva for days now, so she’ll want to check on them soon. Though not tonight, I suspect. She’s far too tired. But when she does, I will follow and bring the child here.” Kenneth steeled his spine. “’Twill be an easy task.”
Adrien nodded. “Do whatever is necessary to keep everyone safe. ’Tis a dangerous time for Saxons who defy Norman law, and our king will not be discriminatory with his punishment if he takes Lord Taurin’s side.”
Kenneth silently agreed. King William could easily provide Lord Taurin with a writ allowing him to do whatever he felt necessary with his slave girl and the babe—and take whatever degree of justice he saw fit against those who had hidden them, willingly or no. After all, wasn’t the king illegitimate himself, and hadn’t he earned his place in history by being recognized as his father’s heir? Aye, King William could easily mete out heavy punishment to many Saxons should they refuse to turn over the slave and her child.
But hadn’t the king abolished slavery? Aye, but that wasn’t the issue. ’Twas not even the issue that Lord Taurin had purchased a slave in the first place. Nay, disobedience was the issue. “I’ll discover the location of the child, my lord. I promise.”
Kenneth turned to leave, but Adrien stopped him. “Sergeant, be careful. We both know that Clara is a good healer, but should she learn what you plan to do, I doubt her thoughts will stay on healing. She appears to be full of guile.”
“Indeed, milord, but I am no fool.” At the door, however, Kenneth hesitated. He’d fought at Hastings, defended his king and his baron with his life, and was not afraid of dying. But he knew Clara. He’d been sent to Colchester to deliver her here and had found her temper and disposition matched her fiery hair perfectly. Aye, fighting a woman whose scorn could sear meat would make the battle for England’s crown seem like a squabble between kittens.
* * *
Clara continued to work with Lady Ediva, encouraging her to take some strong broth and nettle tea. That done, she helped the babe to suckle properly.
Ediva cringed. “I ache all over, Clara. He hurts me.”
While Ediva’s tone was weak and petulant, Clara knew ’twas more from fatigue than personality. Ediva had already decided she wanted to feed her own babe and not hand him over to a nurse. “Aye,” Clara agreed softly. “He will until you get used to him, but ’tis just for a short time, and then you can rest. Remember how I said that ladies who refuse to nurse often waste away?”
Ediva obeyed, and after, Clara showed Margaret how to rub some herbed oil on her mistress. Finally, all was cleaned up, and Clara tucked Lady Ediva into her bed for some much-needed rest. The wide-eyed boy lay swaddled in a cradle between the bed and the well-stoked brazier, a sealed skin of warm water set beside him to keep the chill at bay. Margaret dozed on her pallet at the far end of the room while Clara guarded them all. Her hand throbbed where she’d slammed it into the dungeon door, but the dim light of evening made it impossible to deal with.
She was too agitated, anyway, her thoughts far away from her own pain. Rowena and her child were safe. The only other person who knew of their new location was her small sister, Brindi, whom she’d told before sending her home. Should Lord Taurin—
A tear dropped down onto her lap as she rose. Nay, Brindi was safe and far away from Colchester. Clara had returned the girl to their aged mother, to their home near the seaside and away from the clutches of the guild masters who’d forced her out.
She fisted her hands and the left one stung sharply. She’d acquired a splinter from the door to the dungeon, and now that she wasn’t busy, it throbbed. Forget it. She’d deal with it on the morrow when the light was better. The end of the day was fast approaching.
Clara paced to the window, anxious for some air to clear her mind. She quietly eased the vellum shutter from the window, wanting only a few breaths of fresh air before she blocked out the cool evening again.
She leaned forward. Having abandoned her wimple and veil earlier, the light breeze brushed over her neck and through her thick hair. Glad for it, as her cyrtel clung to her and was in need of laundering, she stretched out as far out as she could manage.
The window had a direct view of the village below, in particular, her small hut at the center. Her gaze automatically fell on it.
In the darkening evening, a shadow passed in front of her home, someone thin and stealthy. A breath or two later, the door, set at the side of the hut, opened. Then, as Clara stared hard, a lamp was lit, spilling light onto the small herb garden for a brief moment before the door shut tight.
She gasped. Someone was in her home.
A sharp rap cut through her and she jumped. After a glance around the solar, and noting all was as it had been a moment before, she heard the knock again. Someone was at the door. Quickly, she set the vellum frame back into place and hurried to crack the door open a tiny bit.
Kenneth stood at the threshold.
“’Tis time for you to return to your hut,” he growled out softly.
She