Page 47 of The Darkland

They tittered and she smiled, taking another sip. And still another. Feeling the warmth from the alcohol fortify her, she clutched her satchel in one hand and the flask in the other, moving down the corridor with the pair of ladies in tow.

“I have been ordered to travel to Quernmore Castle this day,” she said as they reached the stairs, taking yet another swallow of the ‘medicine’. “Do either of you ladies know where my sister is?”

Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda shook their heads, a wagging pair. “Nay, my lady. Your…”

“…sister is still with Lord Edmund in…”

“…his chamber”

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and cross the old stone of the foyer, Mara felt the familiar depression grasp at her. Since her marriage the day before, Micheline had been distant and withdrawn and somehow, Mara felt as if a wedge had been driven between them. A wedge of secrets that both grieved and bewildered her. Taking another drink from the flask, she smacked her lips as the great doors of Anchorsholme loomed before her. Open to the bailey, she could see that a small army was formed.

Her brow furrowed as she saw Kirk and Niles at the edge of the formation, speaking between themselves. Coming to a halt, Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda moved up on either side of her.

“Is something…”

“…the matter, Lady Mara?”

Mara took a deep breath. Then she took another drink. Shaking her head, she proceeded into the weak sunlight.

Niles saw her coming. He said something to Kirk, who immediately moved for his charger without so much as passing her a glance. Mood dampening, Mara ignored him as well, allowing Niles to help her mounther palfrey. The knight took her satchel, leaving her with the flask clutched in her palm.

As Lady Valdine and Lady Wanda bid the party farewell, Kirk and Niles moved the men into marching rhythm, purging themselves from the great double baileys of Anchorsholme.

CHAPTER TEN

The journey toQuernmore Castle was a little more than a day’s ride. Mara sat atop her old mare, listening to the chatter of birds as the escort party passed through the small forest on the border between Anchorsholme and Quernmore. She made a point of focusing on the landscape, the road, her horse’s mane. Anything to avoid looking at Kirk, riding tall and strong at the head of the column.

But she had stolen glances at him now and again, never once catching him looking at her in return. Niles tried to make polite conversation, but she quickly ended his attempts with one-word replies. She did not want to speak with anyone, save Kirk, if he was so inclined to apologize for the events of the past two days. And if he were to apologize, then there would be nothing to stop her from apologizing, too.

Noon came and went. The army did not stop for a meal, merely passed around bread and jerky. Niles provided Mara with bread and delicious cheese, which she washed down with the whiskey concoction. By mid-afternoon, the flask was empty and Mara was showing distinct signs of intoxication.

It all started with a slight tune, off-key and muttered. But the tune grew louder, much to Niles’ amusement, and Mara seemed quite happy with her ear-piercing song. The alcohol only served to enhance her turbulent emotions and when the last verse of the tune ended, the bright blue eyes focused on Kirk’s distant back.

“He hates me, you know.” She turned to look at Niles. “Kirk hates me. Did you see his face? I did that.”

Niles’ expression remained even, wondering if Kirk could hear what was going on. The Kirk Connaught he knew had eyes and ears all over his person and, if Niles suspected correctly, the man had heard every syllable of conversation since leaving Anchorsholme. He wondered how much he would allow Mara to carry on before intervening.

“It was an accident, I am sure,” the knight said, eyeing Kirk in the distance. “Mere scratches.”

“Aye, it was an accident,” Mara said loudly, waving her arm to emphasize her point and nearly falling off her mount. “He grabbed me and I meant to break away. But I gouged him instead.”

Niles glanced at Kirk again, wondering if he shouldn’t discreetly back away from the lady so that she would cease her conversation. Without an audience, there would be no need for chatter.

“Nothing is right any longer,” Mara muttered, swaying in the saddle and oblivious to the discomfort of the knight. “My sister is married and Kirk hates me and I… I want to go home!”

She burst into tears. As Niles debated whether or not to calm her, Kirk suddenly reined his charger around and plowed through the column. Those who did not move out of his way fast enough were nearly run over. Reaching Mara, he ordered the knight away with a brusque jerk of his head.

“Enough tears, Mara,” he said quietly, reining his horse next to her. “There’s no need…”

Her weeping grew louder and she turned away from him. Kirk raised his visor, looking seriously at her. Catching sight of the flask clutched in her hand, he snatched it. Smelling the alcohol, he turned accusingly to Niles.

“Who in the hell gave her this?”

“She had it when she emerged from the keep,” Niles replied steadily. “I thought mayhap it was mead, or even flavored water.”

Kirk shook his head with disgust. “It’s whiskey.” He focused on Mara again. “My lady, who gave you this?”

Mara sobbed dramatically. “You… you called me ‘my lady’! You haven’t addressed me formally since we kissed!” The bright eyes were suddenly on him again. “It was a good kiss, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it good, Kirk?”