Page 107 of Bold Angel
“’Twill happen, my friend, and it will happen soon.”
***
Caryn worked with Ambra in the great hall. The slender young woman had won her first battle with Richard, and now kept charge of the stores out in the bailey. Ambra saw to the granary, the fish pond, and the pigeon house. She oversaw the garden and the drying of fruits and meats. Richard served Ral, watched over the livestock, the stables, the manorial court, the crops, and any problems that surfaced among the villeins.
Their lives were busy, but with Caryn acting as chatelaine, managing the kitchen and supplies for the great hall, seeing to the housekeeping, to guests, and overseeing the servants, Richard and Ambra found time for each other.
Caryn smiled at the way things had turned out. Since the day of the boar attack and Geoffrey’s successful recovery, she had been working to heal the sick. Whether accident or illness, if Isolda could not help them, they came to Caryn.
For the first time in her life she felt needed. For the first time since her childhood, since before the death of her mother, she felt as if she belonged.
Caryn straightened a small bright tapestry that hung slightly crooked at one end of the hall. She was proud of Braxston Keep, proud of what she and Richard, Marta, Bretta, and the others had accomplished. Duties and responsibilities, she had discovered, were not so unpleasant as she had imagined. More often than not, they brought a sense of satisfaction. And the accomplishment was its own reward.
“Lady Caryn!” She whirled to see Leofric’s small thin frame racing toward her. “There is news, milady! Important news!”
For the first time, Caryn noticed a second boy, a dark-haired child named Byrhtnoth she remembered from the village. He was smaller than Leo and several years younger. Everyone called him Briny.
“What is it, Leo?” she asked. “Hello, Briny.” She reached for the boy’s grubby hand, captured it, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Briny seen the murder, milady. The traveler on the road—Briny seen the men who done it.”
“What?” She stared down at the olive-skinned boy. He was the bastard son of a Norman knight who had raped his mother. The woman had finally married, but the man had little use for his stepson, and among the other children, the boy never quite fit in. “You saw him, Briny? You saw the man who killed the traveler on the road?”
“He seen ’em, milady,” Leo answered for him. “Briny says there was three of ’em.”
“Did Briny see the big blond knight the villagers brought in?”
“Aye, milady. Everyone seen ’im.”
She bent down next to the boy, squatting at his side so that she could look into his dirt-smudged face. “Was the blond man one of the men who killed the traveler, Briny?”
He shook his head.
“Are you sure?”
“’E come later,” the boy finally said, his eyes cast down, surveying the mud on his bare feet. “’E scared ’em away, ’e did, just by comin’ down the road. The men took the dead man’s ’orse and rode away.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Caryn asked gently.
“He was afraid, milady,” Leo broke in. “Briny don’t much like people.”
Caryn bent over and hugged him. “It’s all right, Briny. You don’t have to be afraid.” She glanced toward the door, wondering when Ral would return. He had gone to Oldham, a small nearby village, in search of information on themurder or any news he might garner of the Ferret and his men. Surely he would be back soon.
Caryn smiled down at the boys. “Why don’t you and Briny come with me?” Taking the younger boy’s hand, she led them toward the kitchen. “Just this morning, Cook made apple pasties.”
The little boy’s eyes went wide and he broke into a lopsided grin.
“’Twas well done of you to speak up,” Caryn said to him. “Lord Ral will be pleased with you both.”
And he was, joining the children as soon as she told him the story, listening to their tale with interest, asking questions, then smiling with relief that justice would be done.
“’Twas good that you came forward, Briny. Mayhap, as Leofric has done, we can find a place for you here in the keep.”
Briny looked up at him with huge dark eyes in a face alive with awe. When he nodded, Ral reached down and ruffled his hair. He left the children a few minutes later, and Caryn walked beside him into the great hall.
“See the Saxon released from his bonds,” he called to Lambert, whose lanky frame leaned against the wall near the stairs. “The man is innocent of the murder.”
“Aye, my lord.”
