Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (8 page)

“You feed them through the winter?”

“Always. I would hate for them to have to leave,” Domina said. “They belong here. This is their home.”

She tossed the last of the crumbs onto the water, then brushed her hands on her cloak. At least she wore a cloak today, Luc thought. She was human after all.

Domina took a few steps back from the water’s edge, just as Luc dismounted from his horse. He found himself unexpectedly close to her. The idea of slipping one hand beneath the cloak to skim the curve of her lower back came to him, and he actually put his hand halfway out before he recalled himself. Domina would slap him for such a familiarity, and she’d be right to do so.

“You rode out of the castle to find me. Did you have need of me?” she asked.

He could think of a few things he wanted of her, but none he could say out loud. He merely said, “I wanted to see the castle in daylight. The walls themselves.”

“And?” she prompted, curiosity replacing the coolness in her tone.

“An impressive structure,” he said. “Though even I could see a few weaknesses.”

“The north wall,” she said.

He looked at her more closely. “So you are aware?”

“I can see the cracks myself,” she replied. “It does not take a military genius to know that a cracked wall is a weak wall.”

“Does your father intend to repair it?”

“Of course…just as soon as the weather turns fair again. Early spring, perhaps.”

“Winter is not a bad time to do repairs. There’s far less risk of a surprise attack—armies don’t march in winter, as a rule.”

“I’ll bring your opinions to my father,” she said dryly.

“Oh, I’ll tell him myself when he returns.” Luc watched her face, and he saw again what he’d noted the previous day. She froze completely when he mentioned speaking to her father directly. It was just a second’s hesitation, but it was there. Why? What possible reason could Domina have to be scared of such a meeting, unless Godfrey had something to hide from an agent of the king?

She glanced up toward the castle gate. “If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my work. There are plenty of tasks to complete before dark.”

He fell into step beside her. “I’ve seen what I need to see for the moment. I’ll walk you back.”

She offered a tight smile. “How kind.”

Once they returned to the castle, Luc kept an eye on Domina for the reminder of the day. It was difficult, because the woman seemed to be everywhere at once. She appeared in the kitchens, speaking to everyone from the cooks down to the scullery boys. She vanished into the stables, only to emerge with a flock of boys at her heels as she ordered them to move a fresh load of hay into the building to accommodate the guests’ animals.

She dashed into storage buildings, she strode through the great hall. Ancel the steward hailed her, and they had a brief conversation Luc couldn’t hear, though he could see that the steward didn’t look happy. The man’s lined face pulled into a frown, his high forehead wrinkled. Domina soothed him with a few words, and moved on.

Luc watched as she consulted a clutch of ladies spinning and weaving in a small room clearly devoted to women’s tasks. She ran her long, slender fingers over a bolt of cloth, a smile briefly illuminating her face.

Then she was off again. Luc trailed her back outside. He was briefly distracted by the sight of a kitchen maid scurrying away from a building in the corner of the courtyard, one of the few places Domina hadn’t gone that day.

He switched his path to cross that of the maid, who was returning to the kitchen in the main keep.

“What is over there?” he asked. “In that building in the corner?”

The maid had stopped short on being addressed, and two bright spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. “That…that building, my lord?”

“Yes,” Luc said patiently. “The one you just came out of. What’s in there?”

“Storage, my…my lord.” The maid offered a clumsy curtsey with her stuttered explanation. Was she so provincial that the mere presence of a stranger tongue-tied her? From the way she was staring at him, wide-eyed, it seemed possible.

“Storage for what?”

She opened her mouth twice before an answer finally came. “Wine and foodstuffs, my lord. The cats like it there, for they kill the mice.”

“Very well,” he said. “Go on with you.” He watched as the maid dashed off to the keep, her shoulders hunched over as if she expected a reprimand.

Luc glanced back at the building, intending to go over and investigate it, for it seemed rather fine for mere food storage. It stood two stories tall, with shuttered windows on the upper floor.

Just then, a black shape slunk from around the corner of the building, one of the cats the maid spoke of. This one was a long but lithe creature, all black save for a patch of white on its chest. It fixed Luc with a contemptuous stare, as if to warn him from invading its hunting grounds.

“Not today, then,” he muttered. “I know where I’m not wanted.” The cat’s gaze reminded him of Domina’s look when he first arrived at her castle. She kept her claws sheathed thus far, but Luc knew she was capable of scratching.

Recalling his determination to keep watch on her—not that she’d done anything suspicious yet—Luc retraced his steps, hoping to pick up her trail.

He heard her before he saw her, so Luc stopped to hear the conversation. He’d recognized the deep voice of Haldan from this morning.

“There must be no further delay,” she was saying, her normally calm voice now rather strained.

“Why not wait till your guests are gone?” Haldan asked.

“Because I do not know how long they intend to linger,” she snapped back. “To wait any longer on this matter invites disaster.”

“You worry overmuch, my lady.” Something in Haldan’s response raised Luc’s hackles. Not just the man’s dismissal of his mistress’s statement, but also the familiar way he said it, as if he often soothed Domina’s concerns.

“Trumwell is worth my worry,” Domina retorted, in no way soothed. “The trees, Haldan. Tomorrow morning. Don’t forget.”

“Aye, my lady.”

Heavy footsteps signaled Haldan’s departure, and a moment later, Domina appeared on silent feet. Luc didn’t try to catch her attention. He waited until she was halfway across the courtyard to the keep’s doorway before he followed.

The lady of the castle was no mere ornament, content to embroider while the servants worked around her. She seemed to use every key that dangled from the chain at her waist, from the pantry to the cellar to the mews that housed the birds of prey used for hunting.

Through it all, she maintained a gracious calm and an air of confidence, as if this was how she lived every single day. Which, Luc realized, must be the case. Everyone seemed to rely on her, everyone asked her permission and her advice. This was no show for her guests.

That evening, she again presided over a generous meal, wearing the same gown as the evening before. Luc had no complaints. The gown hugged every curve from her shoulders to her hips, before flaring out to a wide skirt. He was a little surprised that she didn’t show off her finery, though. Didn’t all women look forward to opportunities to do so? Guests could not be that common at Trumwell Castle.

Perhaps wearing the same gown was Domina’s way of telling her guests just how little she wanted them there. She wasn’t rude, of course. Something told Luc that Domina would rather die than behave in a manner beneath her station. She didn’t offer meager meals or stock the firewood too scantily in the chambers—he’d been in other places where the hosts did exactly that—but she wanted them gone.

Not till I speak to Godfrey
, Luc thought.
So you’d better get used to me, Domina.

Once again, she excused herself after the meal, telling Luc and Octavian to amuse themselves as they wished.

However, Luc saw her through the doorway of the hall, staring at something outside. Curious, he rose and moved to join her.

She was looking out the open doorway of the keep to the courtyard, where snow fell in fat flakes, the first snowfall of the season. They turned the ground white, a blanket covering every roof, every barrel, every windowsill.

“Beautiful,” said Luc.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Apparently she hadn’t even noticed his approach.

He reached out to touch her forearm. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. Without thinking about it, he curled his hand around the slender limb, feeling the warmth beneath the woolen sleeve.

Domina shook her head. “I was not paying attention, with the snow…” Her voice sounded almost completely different than what he presumed to be her usual tone. This voice was soft, musing, and dreamy. “I love winter,” she said. “At least, when it first comes, and looks like this.”

He moved beside her, still holding her by the arm. “It’s hard to resist,” he admitted. “Even knowing it won’t last.”

She nodded, her gaze still locked on the scene outside. “Seeing that purity and perfection…” she said. “We want to live in a world like this outside, but as soon as we step out into it, we ruin it with our presence.”

Luc imagined the courtyard as a little world of its own. It would be rather peaceful to have a world to himself. Well, with the addition of one lovely woman to share it. He recognized the novelty of the idea—he’d always wanted to be in the thick of things, in the world of the court and the battlefield. But now, seeing the snow, and hearing Domina’s sigh…

“I can’t tell if the snow makes you delighted or melancholy,” Luc said then.

“Both,” Domina said, her expression momentarily unguarded. Her mouth was slightly open. Luc experienced a sudden, strong desire to pull her close and kiss that mouth.

She blinked, then looked to where he held her by the arm. “Excuse me,” she said, taking one step away. “I must retire.”

“You must be exhausted,” he said, “if today was typical for you.”

“The only thing unusual about today is that you’re a guest here.”

“You should not overwork yourself,” he said.

She gave a short laugh, one he couldn’t read. “Women must not be idle. But don’t think I endure days of endless drudgery. Tomorrow I will go hunting, a task that is all pleasure for me.”

Luc smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He wished her good night and let her go. He stared after her, though, thinking of the words she’d spoken to Haldan.
The trees, tomorrow morning
. Was the lady Domina truly going hunting? Or did she have other plans?

Domina rose before dawn. The
presence of her unwelcome guests was already straining the larder of the choicest meat. Ancel warned her the previous day, saying it would look ill if the knights had to dine on everyday meats.

“They might ask questions, my lady,” the older man said. “Game birds are expected, or venison, which we’ve none fresh. The cooks can offer mutton, or fish…”

“Not fish,” Domina said quickly. “I’ll go hawking tomorrow, and when the fowler comes around next, I do have a little coin to pay for what he’s caught in the forest.”

Domina would hunt for game herself today, in order to keep the table supplied with the sort of food her knightly guests would expect. If only she had venison or boar to offer, but she lacked the means to organize that sort of hunt. Hawking was far less extravagant.

She dressed warmly and ate a hasty meal of bread and cheese, then strode out to the mews. The snow of the previous evening only dusted the ground, and though it was cold, the air hinted of a warmer day to come. Good hunting weather, she thought.

The mews of Trumwell now held only three hawks, and none of the falcons both Domina and her parents once loved to hunt with. But her hawks were quick and clever, and worked well for her.

A couple of grooms had got her horse ready. A slender hound named Goldfoot sat nearby. He’d help retrieve any game the hawks might not be able to manage on their own.

“I think the river will be good ground today,” she announced.

“Yes, my lady,” one of the grooms said. “Two boys can go ahead of you to flush the game for the hawks.”

“That will be quite sufficient,” she said in approval. Domina disliked crowds for hunting, and in any case, hawking was often a rather solitary pursuit. If she couldn’t visit her father while her irritating guests remained at the castle, she might as well be far away from the temptation.

“I’ll begin with Brilliant,” she said, referring to the female sparrowhawk who was her best hunter.

Domina rode out of the castle gate with Brilliant on her left arm. The sleek hound ran at her horse’s side, and she took a deep breath of crystalline winter air. The freedom she felt while hunting was all too rare a feeling for her. A full day of solitude would restore her.

Then, the sound of hoofbeats behind her spoiled everything. Goldfoot barked once in warning.

Domina looked back to see Luc riding to catch up with her. He arrived in the space of a few breaths, not giving her much chance to summon a polite mask.

“You don’t waste time,” he said on reaching her. He reined in to match her horse’s pace. Domina could already tell that he was a master rider. He probably heard her say “hunting” and pictured falconry.