Ch 2

Guilty of no sin

The next morning I awoke in a tangle of bedclothes, buried beneath the furs and linens. The morning chill was in the air and I curled into myself against the uncomfortable cold, shutting my eyes from the dawning light. It was a few minutes before the revelations of the previous evening reemerged.

I awoke with a start.

There was to be a child. A bastard child born in less than nine months and the mother was frightened, married and alone. I sat straight up in bed an in one fell swoop threw away my covers, reveling in the shock of the frigid air against my skin. Gingerly, I stepped on the balls of my feet to my clothes chest and pulled out a cream colored gown. Grata, who had been sleeping outside of my door, stumbled in, wiping her eyes and wrapping her cloak around her. By its rumpled appearance I could guess that she had slept in it. She looked groggy and dreary but I was full of energy, going to the window to look out into the gray of the early morning.

"Lace me up," I ordered. Grata shuffled forward to obey and I stretched my arms from my sides and continued to look out the window. It was going to rain today. I loved the rain it filled me with energy and focus.

Grata was halfway through lacing up the back of my dress when there was a pounding on the wall. I jumped, startled by the noise but then I put my hands to my forehead in an irritated manner.

"Grata I think my Mother calling for you. She is unwell again, I assume?" Always unwell.

I turned and Grata would not meet my eyes. She bent down to readjust my linens.

"You do not visit her anymore," She said quietly. I could feel my frustration rising, stepping from her crouched form near my skirts to cross the room.

"I do not visit her because we have nothing to say to each other. And when we do make conversation she will fall asleep halfway through. And on her bad days…" My hand went reflexively over my side, and coming to rest over the spot where there lay a long, silvery scar upon my skin.

My mother had inflicted it when I was six. I do not remember how, only the pain and the guards coming to restrain her. Grata smacked her thin lips with contempt.

"I nursed your mother!" She began reminiscently. "What a beautiful child she was…"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, and you nursed me too, and it will be a wonderful thing if you do not drive me to insanity by feeding me more tragic tales of my mother." The banging on the wall was repeated. "You may go, before she hurts herself."

I had no mother, only a ghost of a woman who was tormented by creatures in her mind and was kept alive by the maid of her childhood. She had been ill for as long as I could remember. Grata privately blamed it on me, the final child with the difficult birth and a difficult demeanor. Abraham, my tutor, told me it had been a gradual change. There were rumors in the city that she was possessed by the devil.

Sometimes I wished her recovery. There had been moments, when I was younger, when I had yearned for a mother to love me and pet me like mothers I saw in the village. Sometimes during my visits I would go to her and try to curl up in her lap but she would push me off and fix me with a vacant stare, or scream as if I had burned her.

Sometimes I wished her dead.

Grata shuffled out of the room grumbling and I could hear her gentle cooing as she entered my mother's chambers adjoining mine. I stuck a few pins into my hair, and left, wearing no jewelry and walking into the morning white and virginal.

Exactly the look I was trying to achieve.

Refilled with vigor, I began trotting down the corridors and then broke into a sprint, going faster and faster, dodging sleeping and active servants, and down stairs and through doors and halls until I burst through the great double doors and into the morning. It was misty as I raced down the gravel path, finally coming to a halt near and collapsing on a bench, energy spent. I lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky watching the brooding clouds roll over my head.

I would speak to her today, I decided. Reason with her, see what could be done. I rolled over onto my side. I would know who did this to her, who this woman loved above her own virtue and duty.

It was not only the ambitious Rowena Ravenclaw thinking this, it was also the thirteen year old maiden who knew nothing of love itself.

But my love of Ravensglen, as always, coated the back of my brain. If the babe was a boy, and if my brother was blind enough to accept him as his heir then I would be ruined and the land I loved would belong to the brother I despised.

And if the babe was not born at all…

I bit my lip hard. Something had to be done.

I was interrupted by crunches behind me on the path and I immediately sat up and pretended to be examining something on my gown. I saw a pair of man's boots and upon raising my eyes recognized my brother's companion from the Great Hall. He glared at me through lined black eyes hidden beneath a heavy brow. I realized had no idea what his name was.

"Who are you?" I asked rudely.

"Why are you alone?" It was a strange question.

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, regarding him haughtily. "I am a Lady of Ravensglen and if you don't mind I happen to enjoy my privacy."

His eyes showed no emotion. "Have you seen the Lady Hufflepuff today?"

"You mean the Lady Helga Ravenclaw?" I corrected him, watching his blank face carefully. Any change in the status of his heart was veiled by a turn of his head, shadowing his face from the light so I could not see his expression.

"The same," He said briskly. "Has she been up this morning?"

"No."

There was a silence.

"Ah." He seemed to hesitate. "Well tell her that Sir Olrich is looking for her to give her a message form her husband." I cocked my head at him, speaking to him through my sideways view

"Yes, I'll tell her." He turned in a jerking manner and left. I watched his black-clad back retreat through the gardens. He was rather flat footed, I noticed, as his steps he shuffled away his wide legs brushing bushes as he passed.

He was an associate of a very wealthy man and would possibly grow to be much in the world.

A pity he was so ugly.

The world seemed to come into sharper focus for me that morning as I took a turn around the garden. Colors were brighter, sound was clearer and every breath shot through me and came to rest comfortably in the pit of my lungs. Perhaps it was the thrill of suddenly being in control of my own destiny, or it could have been merely the climate of the morning, but my whole body was poised to rush at something, to strike it and swallow it in my wide jaws to make it mine.

-------

I spent about an hour in the garden, picking at petals and leaves and scooping up stones and jiggling them in my palms only to throw them into the trout pond as I passed. Then a wind picked up and drove me inside.

I ran up to my room to snatch my embroidery off its dusty shelf and strolled into the Entrance hall. I could hear raised voices and followed my curious ears into the Chamber of Honors, where Pincer was arguing with a man. I stopped in the threshold to watch.

"I am regent!" Pincer was insisting but the man's arms were folded. He was tall. His back was to me but I could hear resolution in his tone.

"I will take my honors from no other but my Lord or an heir to the throne," he said steadily. His accent was not of my country, the words were lighter, spoken more gently. He wore the cloth of a castle guard.

Pincer looked murderous. "He is not here, and you will have to accept my blessing instead of his,"

"No," The man said carefully, "Should I swear allegiance to you, I become yours despite the fact that I will be in my Lord's train. If I am to become a protector of this family, I will not be added to your small army. I demand to be honored by a Ravenclaw." Pincer's hunched frame was wrapped in black, shaggy fur. He looked like a large, sickly bear and his mouth with its thin lips was gaping and panting. I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my amusement. I remained in the shadows and leaned against the wall, wondering idly what my excuse would be for being here, watching.

"Gareth I am in the King's stead!" Pincer whined. He turned in a swirl of animal hair and stomped toward the fireplace. I do believe he was making an attempt to 'storm', but simply slammed his feet very loudly on the cobbles. I swallowed a laugh.

"And?"

"And there is no one in the family for you to give your allegiance to."

"Then I shall wait,"

"You will not! My Lord will not allow it! Now kneel!" The man simply stood there. I edged toward the door, and Pincer's glance flashed in my direction. His eyes were cloudy and angry. It took him a moment before I could see registration in his eyes. For a moment, is stared back insolently. Before he could tell me to get out, I stepped form the shadows.

"I will do it," I said. Gareth whipped around to look at me. I was not tall, but drew myself up to my full height. He was young, no more than eighteen or nineteen. He had square shoulders with an open, honest face and long, shaggy black curls that went past his shoulders. His eyes were large and a shade of green that I had never seen before. I smiled defiantly.

"I will do the honors in the name of my family." The man hesitated. Pincer glared at me.

"Leave, child, we have no use for you here." He ordered. I didn't even glance at him. Instead, I looked steadily at Gareth who looked mildly surprised at my resolve. I summoned all of my noble bearing and did not break away from those great green eyes. I walked to the mantelpiece and picked up the Ravenclaw sword. It was heavy and I lifted it with both hands, a little unsteady with its weight. I held it in the ceremonial manner with one hand on the hilt and one on the blade. I looked at Pincer and met his gaze dagger for dagger, and both of us slowly turned to Gareth.

"She's but a child. And a girl child!" Pincer declared.

"I be no child, my Lord. I am of marriageable age and since last spring have had the capabilities for producing new life. I am of noble blood, a Ravenclaw by all accounts." The young man looked from me to Gareth, and back to me again.

"She's just a child," Pincer said again.

"Kneel," I ordered coldly. My voice took on a new tone, great and powerful like a gong and clear as a bell. Pincer hissed at me with those squinted eyes.

A great silence hung in the air, and gradually Gareth sank to one knee. I gave Pincer a smug glance and lifted the sword above my head.

"Well now what is all this?" A booming drawl announced the arrival of my brother, Robert. I suppressed an annoyed glance behind me.

"Welcome, Brother," I said coldly, still facing Gareth. "I believe this man is due the honor of service to our family. Or were you asleep when the messenger brought you the news?"

Robert coughed loudly into his palm.

"Who is this?"

Pincer did not hide the contempt in his voice. "This is Gareth, my lord, a son of Gryffindor."

I could hear my brother splutter slightly. My jaw tightened in surprise.

My head snapped to look at the man kneeling before me. I could feel my eyebrows raise.

We had all heard tales, of course, of the disgrace of the Gryffindors. How in one battle all their land was divided and given to the great families of Britain. The Slytherin line, the Hufflepuff and yes, my own Ravenclaws took the spoils of that war.

And the family, to avoid being sold into slavery, went into service to the lords of their choosing. According to the reports my father had received, the Lord Godric Gryffindor, had taken his own life on the field, leaving his family scattered and his country abandoned. And so in a rare moment of open emotion I stared at the man before me.

He did not look like a as I would expect destitute member of the Gryffindor family and the heir to a fallen line to look. Giving him a long second appraisal I could see there was something noble in the set of his jaw, and the shape of his shoulders. Those green eyes turned to look up at me and did not smile or flatter.

They burned.

I had never seen eyes quite like that before… cold and in the shadows beneath his eyes and the scattered flicks of scars about his face I could see something abandoned. And something determined. I could feel him peering at me, and I felt as though he could see the treachery in my soul and the ambition behind my eyes.

Surprised and uncomfortable, I turned to my brother, handing him the sword.

"Continue, my brother," I said quietly, and stood to watch. Gareth did not take his eyes off me—he only turned to look at my brother when he cleared his throat again. I felt relieved at the release—only realizing that I had not been a captive at all.

"Gareth, you have been called forth to receive the honor of Castle Guard." Robert brought the sword down slowly and tapped both of Gareth's shoulders with the flat of the blade. "In the name of Ravenclaw, the ancient family of Ravensglen I declare thee one with our hopes and ambitions. Wherever we travel, I declare thee trusted into the Old Faith to follow. Your life will become ours and we are in your hands. You are our caretaker and protector until the day of your death or God forbid, the death of the Ravenclaw line. Do you accept and swear by this?"

"I do," he replied, he bowed his head.

"If these vows are broken you shall suffer torture unto death. Do you understand this?"

"I do,"

Robert set the sword down so it separated the two of us with a thick, curved line of metal. The sharp part of the blade pointed toward him. "Now step over this line and make thine actions better than thy words." He rose and stepped over the sword toward Robert. Gareth then knelt before him again. "And by the ancient vows of the Ravenclaw line I declare thee honored," He announced, and bent down and kissed his forehead in the kiss of peace. "And blessed," Gareth was kissed on both cheeks.

"Rise, Lord Gareth," Robert said proudly, and Gareth rose, overtaking my brother in height and towering above me. I dropped to a curtsy before him and stood back.

He looked at me and smiled in a very small way. He had all his teeth. After a deep bow to my brother, a respectful nod to Pincer and another look at me, Gareth left the room. I watched him go.

Robert glanced after him. "Very well," he said in a bored voice. "Pincer have I any other duties for the morning?"

"No my lord,"

"Very well then I have private business to attend to this morning," He said, and stretched.

I rolled my eyes nastily. "Ah yes my brother, I daresay the kitchen maids await their great lord,"

Robert gave me a rather dull glare and left. Pincer and I were alone in the room.

"A shame you will never become anything but a wife," Pincer said scathingly. I straightened my spine and glaring back at him.

"A pity," I agreed. "And a pity as well that you shall never be a Ravenclaw. A pity indeed that you shall never be Lord," I could see his nostrils flare as he glowered at me, breathing hard through his thin nose.

"Had your brother not arrived at that moment I would have had to take matters into my own hands. Your father shall hear of your disobedience." I felt my face flex in response. My father's moods were changeable. He would most likely be furious.

"Yes, he shall.

"He will not be pleased," Pincer said smugly.

I shrugged. "A pity, but he will soon recover. I can fathom another exile to the East Wing,"

Pincer held my gaze with a long look of loathing.

"I hope to be there when you fall from your gilded tower and into the world,"

I had no reply to that. I simply gave him a cold glance and walked from the room, breaking into a run when I turned the corner.

-------

'Gareth,' I muttered to myself, walking up the staircase to the women's apartments. 'Gareth Gryffindor.' A handsome man he was, a Gryffindor indeed. I doubted I would ever see him again—but no doubt he would do well for himself. A fleeting doubt crossed my mind of what I would do if Ravenclaw fell. Where would I go? Would I become kitchen maid in the Hufflepuff household? Would I be sold into slavery?

I thought of the Slytherins in their swamps with their councils of serpents, and Hufflepuff hiding in their valleys, singing their hymns and governing their peasants. All in hiding, perhaps, to overthrow and take all for themselves… perhaps waiting for the right time to strike…

Lost in thought I wandered up toward the gallery, stopping at a narrow window to check the status of the day. It was raining still. I reached out a hand to catch the drops, watching the soggy city below me.

A tiny sound like the creak of a chair made my ears prick up. I felt my spine straighten in reflex to being watched. The sound came again and I realized it was no chair, but a human being. I raised my eyes to heaven, knowing who was weeping again.

"Lady Hufflepuff?" I asked quietly, not turning around. There was a muffled noise.

"Yes," I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard.

"Are you unwell?"

A choking noise and then. "No," There was a silence. I found her shadow among those against the rushes in the hall. She was not well hidden.

"Then what is the matter?" My eyes were wide and my palms were open. I was the picture of the curious child.

Helga brought her hands from her mouth and blinked back more tears. "If it was to be known it would be the disgrace of this marriage and the downfall of my family…" I looked left and right and went to her in the shadows.

"Then we must find a place where we cannot be overheard,"

I took her by the hand and led her into a quiet alcove, trembling with anticipation, my mind working quickly as to how I could turn this secret to my advantage. She trusted me because she thought I was a child with a child's mind. I dragged her into the alcove because I was a Ravenclaw and she was giving me a power over her that she, in her sweetness and innocence, could not calculate.

A small window provided gray light and Helga wiped at a wet cheek with a wet hand. She turned to look at me and her expression was so open, so vulnerable I could feel my heart twinge. I nearly regretted playing her false. Nearly.

"Rowena I…" She faltered. I nodded encouragingly. "I am with child… and the babe to be is not my husbands."

I dropped her hand.

My eyebrows raised, my jaw dropped. It was almost as though I were hearing it for the first time, hearing it from her mouth. "Oh," was all I said. But she was emboldened by her own honesty.

"The child's father is Lord Olrich—the man I love."

And now I was truly shocked. My eyes flicked from the hall back to her face and I whispered, "Well what is to be done?"

Helga put a hand to her forehead. "He was a top man in Robert's train before I knew Robert. When the betrothal vows were taken—that was when I met him… he is… a wonderful, wonderful man…"

I did not say what I truly thought of the flat-footed bumbler that I thought her lover to be. Indeed, I said nothing at all.

She continued. "It was only once…" Her hand fluttered to her belly. "But it was enough. I love him, before God how I love him… but I cannot have this child."

She looked out into the distance, as though far detached from me. "There must be something that can be done… Rowena…" she looked to me suddenly. "Can you help me?"

But outwardly I peered at her through wide, staring eyes. "I know of a wise-woman hidden among the maids in this palace—we may go to her."

Helga looked up fearfully. "She would have the ability to…" I nodded.

"Yours is a case among many."

"But if she was to know me--"

"We will disguise you. Come to my room at midnight. I will call her there."

Helga hesitated, as I had predicted that she would. Her eyes were wide and she looked a bout to burst into tears again. "Will it be painful?"

I shrugged a little too carelessly. "I would not know—I have never been with child."

I rose to go, tucking my skirts around me and I heard her give a small wimper. I camouflaged an annoyed expression with a sweep my eyelashes.

"Why are you so cold?" The comment stopped me in my tracks. I stared down at this weeping, impregnated woman who questioned me so frankly. I could feel my defenses rising as she peered up at me.

"What has life been to you to make you like this? You know when to play the child that you should be, that is certain. And you could fool anyone with your subtle glances and innocent mind tricks, but you cannot fool me, Rowena Ravenclaw. I know of your kind, growing under the winds of treachery and bitterness." She reached out as if to touch my cheek. I stepped back, suppressing the urge to smack the hand away.

"Then why did you trust me. It would seem you have already been fooled."

She sighed wearily and looked towards the gray light. "How old are you?"

"I will be fourteen when the apple blossoms fall. What of it?" She could not have been older than 16 herself. Eighteen was considered old for marriage as it was…

"You are so young,"

"I am a Ravenclaw,"

"Aye," she agreed. "And you have known far too much of this life far too early. And for that I pity you,"

I took a step towards her and her expression was serene. "Today my brother initiated an heir to the Gryffindor family into the palace guards." Her eyes widened. "We all play the game, Helga, daughter of Hufflepuff. I have simply chosen to take my turn earlier than most."

"But why?" She whispered.

"And Lady Hufflepuff if you truly believe what you say you are ignorant of our ways here. My mother hears demons and I play my role to avoid the wrath of my father and brother, and steer my neck away from the hangman's noose. And in between I have my gains and losses. I have my ambition and dreams, Lady Hufflepuff, and they are not what natural order has set for me. I was not born to be a breeder of sons to a great Lord."

"But what other choice have we, daughters of the great families?"

"I know not. But when the choice comes, I wish to be prepared to make it. And if that means I have no time to be a girl and will grow old before my time, so be it. It is by my own doing."

If she was silenced from my words or by her own choosing, I did not know. But I chose to take my leave.

"I'll come for you when the moon is high. Be ready."