Flight of the Raven Page 8

  She clenched her hands. No, I’m not going to think about that now.

  No one met her at the front doors, so she walked in.

  The walls, ceiling, and floor inside the castle were also made of cool grey stone. A large circular rug made of light blue encompassed the main floor. Three hallways led away from the room, each one lined with light blue runners trimmed in silver. A decorative railing graced the second floor where the three hallways met above and circled the open entrance hall. Windows were interspersed between the second-floor corridors, letting in natural light. At the very top hung an intricate silver chandelier, ready to light the area at night.

  She paused for a moment, taking it all in. She had imagined a cold, dark castle, similar to how she had first envisioned the Northern Shores. Instead, there was a cool beauty to this place. Then it hit her. This . . . this was her new home.

  Taegis, Damien, and the guards disappeared along the hall to the right on the first floor. She hurried forward, her cloak swishing behind her.

  There were no pictures on the walls. Instead, images of the sea were carved into the stone: waves, fish, turtles, and creatures and plants she had no names for. So beautiful. And so different than Rook Castle, with its dark stone and open airways. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch the uneven surface, but she held her hand in place. She had no time, not if she wanted to keep up with Taegis—

  Selene crashed into a short, stocky man coming around the corner.

  She stepped back and rubbed her chin where his head had connected with her.

  He massaged his head, a scowl on his plump face. “What in all the sand hills—” His eyes settled on Selene and his scowl deepened. “Who are you? And what are you doing in Northwind Castle?”

  Selene pointed down the corridor, her heart sinking as she realized Taegis and Damien had disappeared. “I’m here with Lord Damien.”

  He glared at her. “His lordship is not here today. Now turn around and leave.”

  Selene narrowed her eyes. “No. I said I’m—”

  “Who do you think you are that you can say such a thing to me?” He crossed his arms, drawing her attention to his fine blue tunic and sleeveless jacket with a golden chain around his neck, a dozen keys attached to the end. His grey hair was thick and curly, and his eyes were a pale blue.

  “I’m—I’m—” A flush crept up her cheeks as she remembered her own attire: torn black pants, tunic, and stained cloak. Not the usual garments for a woman of her stature. Not the garments for any woman, really. She lifted a hand and touched her hair. They had been in such a hurry this morning she hadn’t taken the time to redo her braid and could feel the stray hairs tickling her face. She looked anything but a lady.

  Dart’an! What could she say? I’m Lord Damien’s wife? Ha! Like he’d believe that.

  “As the steward for House Maris, I am telling you to leave this castle before I call the guards.”

  A sliver of anger trembled through her body. “I told you, I’m with Lord Damien.”

  “All right, then. The guards it is. Guards!” he yelled. “We have an intruder.”

  Selene breathed through her nose, flexing her fingers as she tried to figure out what to do next. Part of her wanted to tell the steward off. He had no jurisdiction over her, a lady of Ravenwood and now wife to his own lord. Mother never would have allowed a common man to treat her in such a way.

  But just as she went to speak, she paused. Was this how she wanted her first interaction to be at Northwind Castle? Escorted from the castle by the guards or attempting to force her way inside? Neither would reflect well on Damien.

  Her shoulders fell. This was not the reception she had imagined, not by any stretch of the imagination. But this was her home now, and as such, she would respond how she imagined a lady of House Maris would. She held up a hand. “Wait.”

  The steward stopped yelling and eyed her warily.

  “I will go,” she said with as much dignity as possible. She would wait in the courtyard until Taegis or someone came back for her.

  “Good choice.” The steward remained where he was. A guard appeared from another hall, his sword drawn.

  “Steward Bertram?” the guard said, his eyes on Selene.

  “Please escort this woman from Northwind Castle.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Selene kept her chin lifted as she turned, but humiliation, anger, and loneliness pounded within her heart. She clenched her hands, pressing her fingernails into the soft part of her palms, and took each breath slowly.

  “My lady?” Boots pounded along the hallway. Cohen appeared seconds later, his burgundy robes flying behind him. “My lady,” he panted as he crossed the corridor. “You left, and I couldn’t find you—what’s going on?”

  “Do you know this woman?” Steward Bertram asked. The guard paused, a look of confusion on his face.

  “I do. This is—”

  “Lady Selene!” Taegis’s voice rang out behind the steward. The steward turned and dropped his arms. The guard gave Taegis a small bow as he approached.

  “Thank the Light you’re here,” Steward Bertram said, taking a step toward Taegis. “This woman was prowling the castle. I was going to have one of the guards escort her away, but now that you’re here—”

  “This woman is Lady Selene, Lord Damien’s new wife!” Taegis’s voice boomed across the corridor.

  The steward froze. Slowly, he glanced back, his face pale.

  “I can attest to that as well,” Cohen said, “since I performed the rites of matrimony myself.”

  The guard looked between the three men, and then at Selene. He bowed. “My lady.”

  Steward Bertram opened his mouth and closed it, like a fish out of water. “I . . . I . . . I had no idea.”

  Taegis shook his head and closed the gap between him and Selene. “My lady, I did not mean to leave you. My first thought was to get Lord Damien to the healer.”

  “I know. But I want to see him. And don’t try to stop me.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked, and she could have sworn Taegis was pleased by her words. “My lady, I’ll take you there now. But first”—he turned toward the steward—“Steward Bertram, let me present to you Lady Selene Maris, wife of Lord Damien, formerly lady of House Ravenwood.”

  Bertram bowed low, sweat coating his forehead. “My lady, please forgive me. I didn’t know who you were.”

  The former lady of Ravenwood reared up inside of her. Mother would have expected her to coldly reprimand a man like him, one who dared to lord over a lady of a Great House. But then she remembered how Damien had treated the people they had met so far on their journey with kindness and grace.

  She took a deep breath and let the anger from moments earlier wash away. “I understand. There was no evidence that I was Lady Maris.”

  He lifted his head, a red sheen to his cheeks. “You are most gracious, my lady.”

  Taegis cleared his throat. “Steward Bertram, would you please see to arranging the room next to Lord Damien’s for Lady Selene’s use?”

  “Next to his lordship’s room?”

  “Yes, until other arrangements can be made.”

  “Yes. Right away.” Steward Bertram turned and hurried down the hall.

  Selene sagged forward, the whiplash of emotions leaving her drained.

  Taegis was by her side in a flash. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you behind. Here, take my arm and I will lead you to his lordship.”

  “Thank you, Taegis.” Selene tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, thankful for something to hold on to.

  “Healer Sildaern is taking the arrowhead out right now, then he will treat his lordship’s fever.”

  “Good.”

  Taegis sighed. “I apologize for Steward Bertram’s behavior. He can be a bit gruff, and sometimes he forgets his place in his effort to protect the young lord, but deep down he has a good heart. I’m sorry you had to meet him this way.” He turned and looked at her. “Why didn’t you tell him who
you were?”

  “He never gave me a chance.” Selene raised an eyebrow at Taegis. “And I certainly do not look like a lady in this attire.”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. Yet another reason I shouldn’t have left you. I don’t think anyone was expecting Lord Damien to come home with a bride. There were alliances with other houses in the works.”

  Selene wondered if Taegis meant something more with that statement or if he was simply stating the facts. She was sure House Ravenwood was the last house anyone thought would align with House Maris, and yet here she was. The circumstances behind their rushed union might lead some to doubt the validity of the marriage, save that it was enacted by a monk and witnessed by others.

  She sighed and continued along the corridor with Taegis. Not only was she entering this castle and Great House as a stranger, she was entering as a potentially unwanted stranger.

  9

  Taegis took the hall to the right on the first floor and led Selene down the corridor. Silver sconces were attached along the supporting pillars between the walls, each with a single candle inside, ready to light the hallway. Closed doors stood every twenty to thirty feet, made from the same greyish wood as the outside doors. The air held a cool feel to it and smelled clean.

  After two turns and another corridor, they neared the end of the hallway, where a guard stood near the last door.

  “Sir Taegis,” the guard said with a dip of his head.

  “Cedric.”

  The guard glanced curiously at Selene.

  “Cedric, may I present to you Lady Selene, Lord Damien’s new wife.”

  Cedric’s eyes grew wide, and he bobbed his head. “My lady.”

  “She wishes to see Lord Damien.”

  “Of course. Healer Sildaern is with his lordship right now.” Cedric opened the door and stepped back. Taegis entered first, Selene close behind.

  The room was medium sized, with a roaring fire in the stone fireplace against the right wall. Steam rose from the spout of a black kettle hung over the fire. In the middle of the room stood a long rough wooden table covered in old books, jars, an array of dried herbs and flowers, and a stone mortar and pestle. A strong herbal scent filled the room, but Selene could not place the smell. Against the left wall were three beds. Damien lay in the nearest one, a wool blanket pulled across his body.

  His eyes fluttered, then opened. “Taegis?” he said in a raspy voice.

  A longing spread within her. She hadn’t expected to feel such a strong pull toward him. Was it due to the connection she had made during her dreamwalks? Or something more?

  Taegis and Selene crossed the room. “Yes, my lord. I brought Lady Selene here.”

  “Selene?” He turned his head and focused on her, his face glistening in the candlelight.

  Her heart quickened at her name. “I’m here,” she said, approaching the bed. “How do you feel?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Terrible. But glad to be home. I’m sorry I’m in such poor condition for your arrival here.”

  “Taegis and Cohen are taking care of me.” She was not going to share how the steward had first treated her. Damien didn’t need to know.

  His eyes shut. “Good.”

  After a moment, it appeared Damien had passed into a restless sleep.

  A man walked into the room seconds later, dressed in long green robes with a wooden tray in his hands. His hair was black and smooth, with the upper half tied back at the crown of his head while the rest fell to midchest. He looked almost like the male version of Lady Ayaka Rafel, and Selene wondered for a moment if the man was related to the Great House of Rafel.

  “Healer Sildaern, this is Lady Selene, Damien’s new wife. She insisted on seeing him.”

  The healer’s intense gaze turned to Selene. “My lady,” he said a moment later with a bow.

  “Healer,” Selene replied.

  “I’m about to remove the arrowhead. It appears to only be a flesh wound, but the arrowhead is barbed. It’s good that it was left in until I could attend to it. If it had been pulled, his lordship would have lost a lot of blood.”

  “Is the wound infected?”

  Healer Sildaern left the tray on the long table and came to Damien’s side. “I will know soon enough, and I will send word of what I find.” He looked over at her with that intense stare again. “Be assured that I will do everything I can to help Lord Damien.”

  Selene bowed her head. “Thank you.”

  “Now then,” he said brusquely, “I need room and space to do my work.”

  Selene and Taegis backed away as the healer turned and prepared his instruments on the table.

  “There isn’t much we can do here,” Taegis said. “Why don’t I show you a place you can wash up while your room is prepared?”

  “Yes, that would be nice,” she said distractedly, watching as Healer Sildaern measured a couple of wooden rods and nodded to himself. A set of tongs, a jar of honey, and linen lay on the tray he left on the table. Part of her wanted to stay and see how he removed the arrowhead and part of her wanted to get as far away as she could.

  Taegis gently took her arm and led her out into the hallway. A moment later, a yell filled the room behind them.

  The sound pierced her heart. Selene twisted around, ready to fight her way back in. Her thoughts caught up to her body, and she stopped herself, again surprised at her strong reaction to Damien’s pain.

  “Don’t worry, my lady. Lord Damien is in good hands.” Taegis tugged on her arm and started walking again. “All we would be is in the way.”

  There was another yell. Selene bit her lip and forced herself to keep walking. Taegis was right.

  “Healer Sildaern is a cousin to House Rafel and a very gifted healer. He came two years ago in response to our desperate situation when the plague swept across the Northern Shores. Unfortunately, it was too late for Grand Lord and Lady Maris, and Lord Damien’s brother, Quinn. However, Healer Sildaern chose to stay and has been with us ever since. His lordship’s wounds will heal fast under Sildaern’s supervision.”

  So she was right—the healer was related to House Rafel. Perhaps he even had a touch of healing left in his blood. She glanced at Taegis. “That’s why you wanted to bring Lord Damien here instead of to that small village.”

  “Yes. I knew he would recover better and faster with Healer Sildaern than with a village healer.”

  Near the end of the hall, Taegis turned left and opened a door into a large room with a round bath in the middle of the floor. The bath was enclosed by white tile, and steam rose above the rippling water. Three windows on the far wall allowed in sunlight, and a table with linens, ointments, and soaps sat on the left.

  “I thought you would like to clean up after traveling so far,” Taegis said. “This bath is fed by natural hot springs here along the Northern Shores.”

  Selene inhaled the humid, warm air. A bath would take her mind off of Damien and the events of today. Not to mention she was ready to be rid of her travel-worn tunic and pants. They could burn these clothes for all she cared. “A bath sounds wonderful.”

  “I’ll send in a maid with fresh clothing.”

  Selene nodded without turning. “Thank you, Taegis.”

  “I should know more about how his lordship is doing soon and will relay that news to you.” The door closed moments later.

  Selene looked over the soaps and ointments, then chose simple lavender and placed it beside the circular bath, along with clean linens.

  After tossing the ragged, stained clothes to the side, she stepped into the pool and let out a deep sigh. Niggling thoughts pressed against her skull, but she held them back. There were many things she would be facing in the upcoming days, but those troubles could wait. Right now, she would enjoy the water.

  Minutes later, the door opened. “My lady?”

  Selene jerked her head up from where she had been lying on the tile and looked back. A young woman shut the door and turned with her head bowed and dark clothing over
one arm. Her nut-brown hair was gathered beneath a white cap and hung in a single braid over her shoulder.

  For a moment, all Selene could see was her maidservant Renata in her baggy grey dress and hear her stutter as she spoke. She gripped her throat with one hand, her heart beating rapidly at the vision. Where was Renata now? Who was taking care of her? “I shouldn’t have left her. I shouldn’t have left any of them,” she whispered, staring into the distance.

  “My lady, are you all right?”

  Selene blinked, bringing her vision back into focus.

  “Yes, just . . . remembering,” she said through a thick throat.

  The young maidservant stared at her with big brown eyes. “I brought you clean clothes and will place them on the table here. Do you need anything else?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  The girl walked across the room and laid the clothing near the folded linen. “Would you like me to have your other clothes washed?”

  “No. They did well for traveling, but I think they have served their purpose.” More than served their purpose. She never wanted to wear them again. She couldn’t help but catch the girl’s look when she picked up the black clothes. Not the usual traveling attire for a lady of a Grand House. She wondered what the young woman was thinking.

  “Yes, my lady,” the maidservant said a moment later and bowed again before turning for the door. Then she paused and looked over her shoulder. The girl had such a fresh, young expression to her face. She couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen springs. “Are you—are you really Lord Damien’s new wife?” she said, her face growing red.

  “Yes.” Selene raised her hand from the water and looked at her wrinkled fingers as if to assure herself. “I am.”

  “Welcome, your ladyship,” she said hurriedly. Before Selene could respond back, the servant girl was gone.

  She stared at the door, her heart moved by the girl’s words. Welcome.

  Her first welcome here at Northwind Castle.

  It wasn’t much, but it gave her the courage to get out of the bath and step into her new way of life.

  The same servant girl met her outside the bathing chamber. She was shorter than Selene, with a constant smile to her lips, reminding Selene of her little sister Ophie. She already liked her.