Page 65 of Bold Angel
She stopped at the top of the stairs. “Where is Ral?” she asked of Marta. “I was sleeping so soundly I did not hear him awaken.”
“He is gone, my pet.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“He and the men, they have ridden from the castle. Richard saw they received a hearty meal, then they rode out for Caanan. Lord Ral must rejoin his men.”
“But the battle is over—King William has won!”
“He said that you were sleeping so soundly he did not wish to awaken you. He said he will return as quickly as he can.”
“But he cannot have gone—not after we went to so much trouble! Surely he made mention of the keep and all that we have done.”
Marta made a rude sound in her throat.
“What is it? Why do you look that way?” Before the old woman could answer, Caryn whirled around, raced to the top of the stairs, and stared out into the great hall. In the room below, benches were overturned, several of them splintered and broken, and what few linens remained on the tables were stained with wine, spottedwith grease, and littered with dried food and bread crumbs. So was the floor, though the hounds had made short work of most of it. Even now they growled at each other over a bone fallen into the rushes.
“I cannot believe it!”
“The men were in high spirits,” Marta explained. “They celebrated their triumph and having a night back home.”
“High spirits!” Caryn repeated. “Did they not notice the changes we had wrought, how clean was the hall, how spotless the linen? Did they not at least mention how well-prepared was the food?”
Marta shrugged. “Much was made over how tasty were the lampreys in galytyne. ’Twas a favored dish to be sure.”
“That is it? They said nothing more? What of Lord Ral? Braxston Keep is his. Surely he noticed the paneling on the walls which has helped to lessen the draughts, the tapestries hung to provide more warmth. Surely he noticed there were fewer musty smells.”
“I am afraid he did not say.”
“Did he also say nothing of Morcai’s beautiful paintings?”
“Nay, my pet.”
Caryn thought of the endless, backbreaking hours she had spent preparing the hall. She thought of Leofric and Bretta, of Marta and a dozen others who had worked bent over till their backs were aching and their knees were raw. She thought of dropping into bed in exhaustion only to rise at dawn and start all over again.
“So Lord Ral does not notice.” She planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the wreckage in the hall. “Upon his return, he will notice, I vow.” She turned to face Marta. “’Twill be a sight he will never forget!”
***
“I beg of you, Lady Caryn. Youmust end this madness before Lord Ral’s return.” Richard’s sandy brows nearly touched in the middle of his forehead.
“As I have told you, Richard, at least a dozen times, naught will be done but that which is necessary for our own comfort.”
“Richard is right, my lady.” Geoffrey had also spent hours trying to dissuade her. “You will do naught but earn yourself a beating.”
“Mayhap I will. At least Ral will take notice. ’Tis certain he will no longer take me for granted.”
For weeks they’d done only the meagerest amount of labor in the great hall, even less in the yard out in the bailey. Richard and Geoffrey had argued against the course she had taken, certain the lord’s wrath would fall heavily upon them all. Marta had wrung her aged hands and prayed she would come to her senses. Even the servants had grown skittish and worried, though after their backbreaking efforts, Caryn thought that secretly they might applaud her.
“At least let us clean out the fire pit and replace the rushes,” Richard said. “The floors are littered with bones and the droppings of the hawks brought into the hall. And it smells of the hounds you have allowed to sleep indoors.”
“We must see the foodstores refilled,” Marta begged. “Lord Ral and his men will expect a hearty meal upon their arrival.” Less than a week away.
“They received a hearty meal when last they were here. They gave naught of thanks for our labors.”
“The linens are badly stained,” Richard said, “all but those on the tables we have been using. Let us bleach them, make them at least somewhat presentable.”
“Far from it, Richard. On the day of Lord Ral’s return, you will see the tables set with the dirtiest linen you can find. There will be no meal prepared and nothing in the larder. The hounds will roam the hall and no fire will bebuilt in the fire pit. Mayhap the next time Lord Ral will not be so eager to trod upon those who work so hard to please him.”
