Page 2 of Castle of Refuge

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Discussion Questions

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Praise for Melanie Dickerson

Other Books by Melanie Dickerson

Copyright

One

Spring 1378

Engleford Castle, Hampshire

Audrey hid behind a tree and watched a knight and his squire riding down the lane. The knight was nothing to look at—bushy beard and paunchy belly—but the squire had gentle eyes, a smooth face, and a slight smile on his lips. She would guess he was a few years older than her own fifteen. Tall and slender, his back as straight as a spear, he had dark hair and his skin was appealingly sun-browned.

They were riding toward her father’s castle, no doubt to spend the night. Twilight was falling and travelers often chose to stay, as her father owned the only castle within a half day’s ride in any direction.

She glanced down at her dress, noting the mud stains across the skirt. She’d get quite the scolding when Sybil, the head houseservant, saw her condition. “Still a rambunctious girl-child at the age of fifteen. How will you ever get a husband?”

Her father would scowl and say, “You’re too old for such mucking about. Don’t let anyone see you looking like that.”

And her older sister, Maris, would snort and laugh at her. Or scream at her and call her ugly names. One never quite knew how Maris would react. She was so changeable, smiling one minute, rageful the next.

Audrey passed the pond where she sometimes went fishing with the stable boy, continuing to the meadow where the wildflowers grew so thick she could pick an apron full in no time. She found one particularly dark pink flower and another unusually deep purple one. She held them up to the sun, pressing their tiny stems between her fingers. The light shone through the petals, lighting them up like a colored star, or like a burst of flame in pink and lavender.

That was what Audrey wished for her life to be—a burst of light. An intense color. Something unforgettable.

Her mind pondered this dilemma—how to make her life extraordinary. Some might say she was an insignificant girl, that she could not make her life a flash of intense light. Perhaps she could not, but God had made these wildflowers beautiful, which were here today and tomorrow would be food for the sheep. Could He not do much more for her, even though she was only a girl?

Besides, she liked being a girl. All the better to surprise people when she did something important.

And as a girl, and while she remained unmarried, she hadmore freedom. If she were a boy, her father would have sent her to train as a knight when she was a young child. Instead, she had been allowed to study all manner of interesting things, read all sorts of books, and Father had even provided her with a tutor. But today her tutor was away visiting his sister.

Now that Audrey had learned all the languages her tutor knew—Latin, French, German, and English—she was worried her father would send him away. He was not the most genial fellow, but he did enjoy speaking other languages with her, and certainly neither her father nor Maris would ever practice with her or discuss the other things she was learning.

If she were to marry well—someone powerful and wealthy—she might have the means and opportunity to make her life meaningful. And yet she also did not want to marry someone who didn’t love her or whom she was unable to love. Love had always seemed to be the highest ideal, a noble goal, since the opposite of love was what caused so much evil in life. Besides, the Holy Writ said, “God is love.” That alone must make it of great importance.

Nevertheless, love alone did not seem to be enough. She wanted to do something extraordinary. Maybe she could teach girls to read. After all, the girls in the villages of England never learned to read. They learned sewing, and if they weren’t too poor, they might learn embroidery or learn how to play an instrument. But if girls could read, they could accomplish many of the things men were able to do. They could become an alchemist who could turn iron into gold, or a physician who could make sick people well. At the very least they would be adept enoughat mathematics that they could own a shop and cipher ways to make a larger profit.

But she kept these thoughts to herself, for she knew people would laugh, scoff, or even get angry with her for such thinking. Maris certainly would, and she imagined Father giving her that severe, confounded look he often gave her. Then he would turn away and ignore her, even though she’d just shared the desires of her heart.

She did not know what lay ahead of her, what her life would become, but she wanted to be a bright light, a shooting star, but one that shot up high into the heavens instead of falling to earth.

When she arrived back at Engleford Castle, she went in through the Great Hall, slipping through the door behind her father’s dais. In her apron skirt she carried daisies, johnny jump ups, buttercups, and the pink and purple flowers that grew along the rocky shore.

Audrey stepped from behind the partition. Her father sat at the table with the knight and his squire.

Her father turned, his eyes roving from her head to her feet. He scowled, a harsh look in his eyes. He jerked his head toward the door, and she quickly went back the way she had come, her heart pounding.

He must be angry at the prospect of his guests seeing his daughter looking like a servant girl with mussed hair, muddy skirts, and wildflowers in her apron. She hurried toward the kitchen. Perhaps Sybil would appreciate her wildflowers.