24th Day of Goodmonth, 565 CY
The Castle Chauv, Furyondy
(About 60 miles north of the Brass Dragon Inn)
The first thing Caroline noticed was that the sun had gone down.
The young woman hadn't seen the first appearance of the crop fields as their horses trotted northwards on the dirt road. She hadn't spotted the increasing number of serfs and thatch huts as they approached the village which lay sprawled beneath the hill that boasted the Castle Chauv. Indeed, she'd even missed the moment when the castle itself had first loomed on the horizon. It was only the glow of scattered torches that made Argo's wife realize that their two-day journey was nearing its end.
Grock, whom Caroline had insisted on taking along, barked and ran off after a chicken he spotted, drawing angry shouts from someone.
Caroline rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away her fatigue. The cloud of overwhelming depression that had been her constant companion since that terrible night clung tightly to her, but she suddenly realized she was hungry as well as tired, and ready for something other than hardtack and dried fruit. She peered ahead over Sir Dorbin's shoulder at their destination.
Chauv Castle, even at it's undamaged height, had not been as impressive a structure as the Aerdian castles Caroline had seen back east in the Great Kingdom, and the destruction wrought by the earthquake several months past was all too evident. It looked as if the castle had been split in half by the tremor, and the eastern section of the stone keep had collapsed and tumbled down the hill from where it was located. It had been only partially rebuilt and was still surrounded by scaffolding. As Caroline watched, a line of grimy and solemn-looking peasants trudged down from the hill, heading home for the evening from their back-breaking reconstruction work.
Two knights, each with an entourage of squires, pages, heralds and ostlers, approached their group on foot as they reached the bottom of the hill. Sir Dorbin halted his steed, and with a gesture bade Fee Hal hold his position and that of their draft horse as well.
The two nobles could not have looked more different. One was no older than perhaps twenty. His face bore such a stern demeanor though, that even before he came close enough for Caroline to see his features clearly, she had pegged him as a son of the late Baron Chauv.
The other man was in his late sixties or perhaps even early seventies, but still wore his full plate armor like a second skin. The holy cross of St. Cuthbert was prominently embossed on his breastplate. Even with his visor up, his ruddy cheeks and easy smile were almost obscured by a huge, snow-white handlebar mustache.
"Hail, Sir Dorbin! 'Tis good to see thee again!" The elder knight greeted his Aardian peer with the archaic accent sometimes employed by devout worshippers of The Cudgel. "Her Ladyship will be most pleased."
Dorbin nodded. "Well met, Sir Silverton. I again thank you in advance for your hospitality." He glanced back at Caroline, who was biting her lip and clearly nervous at meeting new people.
"Caroline, may I present Sir Kenneth Chauv and Sir Silverton. Good sirs, this is Lady Caroline Bigfellow."
Lady Caroline Bigfellow, out of deference to Sir Dorbin, managed one of her usual smiles; which is to say, a smile that fooled no one into thinking its wearer was actually happy.
Sir Silverton bowed as low as his armor would permit. "Welcome, Lady Bigfellow, to the Barony of Chauv. We are honored."
The younger knight stepped right up and held forth his hand. Caroline, recognizing the gesture, placed her hand in his and allowed the noble to plant a kiss upon it. Sir Chauv's scowl vanished as he eyed Caroline more closely than she would have liked.
"We are indeed honored, Lady Bigfellow, to have such unexpected- and such lovely- company."
Caroline could only nod and withdraw her hand, clutching more tightly onto Sir Dorbin with the other.
"We shall stable thy horses, Sir Dorbin," Silverton said. "The Baroness awaits thee in the front chamber."
Sir Dorbin nodded and turned around. "Unpack our belongings, Fee Hal. I shall speak to Lady Chauv about Caroline."
His squire nodded, sparing a quick but pointed scowl at Sir Chauv as he dismounted.
Caroline allowed Lady Chauv's son to help her off her horse and immediately looked around for Grock, but the wardog was already heading back to her side. She reached down and scratched his ears, grateful for the momentary opportunity to avoid dealing with all this nobility.
She never even remembered walking up the steps cut into the hill or entering the castle, but suddenly she and Sir Dorbin were standing in the entrance hall with Baroness Chauv, who was surrounded by three teenaged ladies-in-waiting.
The last time Caroline had seen the Baroness, the noblewoman had been wearing a simple if well-made traveling outfit. Now Her Ladyship boasted a gigantic gown of varied gold and burgundy coloring. The lower half of her slender body was completely invisible beneath a hoop skirt that surrounded her a good three feet in every direction. She glided forward placidly to meet her visitors, her voluminous sleeves nearly touching the floor despite her outstretched hands.
"Sir Dorbin," she smiled at the knight, who promptly bowed down upon one knee. In reflex, Caroline did likewise.
"Your servant, Lady Chauv- as always. If it please Your Ladyship, may I present," the knight added, indicating Caroline as they rose, "Lady Caroline Bigfellow."
"I remember her well," the Baroness turned her charming smile upon Caroline. "She was most hospitable to my husband and I in our hour of need. I will always be grateful."
That memory actually made Caroline feel a little better, so the younger woman's voice didn't tremble quite as much when she replied. "I am honored, Your Ladyship."
"Circumstances have arisen which make it preferable for Lady Bigfellow to spend several days away from the inn," Sir Dorbin explained to their hostess. "May I be so crass as to prevail upon you to grant her hospitality for a short time, as well as for myself and my squire?"
Lady Chauv nodded, still smiling. "Of course, good Sir Dorbin." The noblewoman then turned to address Caroline directly.
"I must inform you that I have no guest rooms ready that would be suitable for you tonight," she explained, "but if you would be willing to share the quarters of my ladies," she indicated her servants with a tilt of her head, "I will have proper quarters prepared for you by tomorrow evening."
"Of course, Your Ladyship," Caroline responded promptly, although in truth she dreaded the idea of sharing a room with three strange girls. "Your hospitality is more than I deserve."
Lady Chauv waved away the compliment. "Nonsense. You are my honored guest. Refresh yourselves as you wish, and then we shall all sup together."
Caroline blinked in surprise as the serving girl addressed her again.
"My Lady. Could you hold forth your hands, please?"
Embarrassed, Lady Bigfellow smiled weakly and did as directed. The young servant poured a stream of clear water over her outstretched hands and then dried them with a small towel.
Caroline kept finding herself falling into a fugue state. She realized she was sitting at a huge, oaken dining table with the Baroness, her son and Sir Dorbin, although she had no recollection of how she had arrived here. There was no sign of Fee Hal, so apparently "all" did not include squires.
The meal was quite pleasant if not spectacular, consisting of salted salmon, peas and rice, a light golden beer which the Baroness claimed was gnome-brewed, and a sweetened almond paste called marzipan for dessert. Despite her hunger, Caroline's depressed state kept the food and drink from being as appealing as it would have been otherwise, but she concentrated intently on it, for the main purpose of staying out of the dinner conversation as much as possible. Whenever possible, she slipped a piece of fish to Grock, who sat cunningly silent under the table by her knees.
Sir Kenneth Chauv seemed to be prone to boasting, if his contribution to this evening's conversation was typical. Caroline only half-listened to it, as it seemed to her that he was doing it mostly for her benefit. All it served to do was to make her even more uncomfortable. Fortunately, Sir Dorbin seemed to realize this, for at some point he jumped in.
"Forgive me, young Sir Chauv, but I must ask Her Ladyship; my Lady, I notice the reconstruction of this castle is not much further along than from my last visit. Had you not hired paid laborers to hurry the rebuilding?"
The Baroness frowned but nodded, her manner turning noticeably more somber.
"I was forced to let them go. Coin is becoming scarce for my Barony; I am sorry to say. Baron Chartrain has increased the amount that is my due to him this year, and there is little point in raising my own taxes, for my serfs and freemen have little to spare. I am told the yield will be poor this year come Harvesting, and I cannot afford to hire druids to remedy this. As it is, many peasants grumble that working on my castle robs them of time spent in their fields, and this is true, though it cannot be helped."
Dorbin nodded sympathetically but said nothing.
"We will have more coin by the New Year, mother; I promise you that," Sir Chauv said. The young knight's tone was quiet, but it couldn't hide his own embarrassment at having to admit to financial woes in front of other nobles.
Lady Chauv patted her son's hand. "I know, my son. I know you will not fail me, but that is still half a year away."
"The annual New Year's End Festival will be held here this year," the Baroness explained to her curious guests. "Many of the Noble Council shall attend, and possibly even His Royal Majesty himself. The prizes offered in this festival's events are grander even than those at the King's Festival just recently finished in Chendl. Winning even some of them would greatly enhance our coffers, not to mention our prestige."
"We shall win them all, mother." Kenneth's voice regained its boastful air. "I have yet to meet my equal in joust, and Sir Silverton is an archer without compare. That is two in the hand right there."
"Let us not run our hands through these riches until we have them, my son," the Baroness gently rebuked her son. She then looked over at Caroline.
"My husband-"
She grimaced.
"My late husband, I am told I should say, though in truth it pains me greatly to dwell on that- was more astute in affairs of state than I am. While I am sure few of the common folk raised their mugs to him at night, it cannot be denied that he ruled this Barony justly and well."
"Those peasants don't realize how well they have it off," Sir Chauv scowled. "They should-"
"Be silent!" Lady Chauv snapped at him.
There was a brief but uncomfortable silence, which the Baroness broke by clearing her throat, taking a final swallow of beer and continuing.
"I was merely commenting that sometimes we don't realize what we have until it is gone. Far too often do we dwell only on the negatives in life."
For the first time since dinner had begun, Caroline came out of her shell, if only partially.
"I am so sorry for your loss, Lady Chauv," she said sincerely, even wishing for a moment that she could confide in the noblewoman about her own loss.
The Baroness smiled back while taking a deep breath to push back the tears that had threatened. "Thank you, Lady Bigfellow. Your sympathy especially means much to me, for I know that your husband is off on service to our king even as we speak and cannot be far away from peril at any time. I shall pray to The Cudgel every night for his safe return until I hear word that it is so."
Caroline's eyes grew wide in shock.
She had been so absorbed in what had happened to her, and even dreading how she would ever be able to look her husband in the eye again when he returned; that the full reality of the situation had not yet hit her.
What if Argo didn't return?
Come to think of it now, hadn't Monsrek said something to her about contacting her husband via a sending, if only to tell him she had been unnerved about a terrible nightmare involving Kar-Vermin? Caroline was pretty sure the priest of Trithereon had never mentioned to her what that reply had been.
She shot a glance over to Sir Dorbin, but the knight had already averted his eyes.
Caroline's breath caught in her throat.
Lady Bigfellow tossed and turned in the bed set aside for her. It had been almost three hours, and sleep was no nearer than it had been at the beginning.
She hadn't needed to feign not feeling well to be excused from the after-dinner tea. Caroline wasn't feeling well; even by her own recent standards. The Baroness, rebuking herself for "reminding you of your worries," had only reluctantly acquiesced to Caroline's request. Sir Dorbin had caught up to her and whispered the truth, or at least what he said was the truth- that Monsrek had been unable to reach either Argo or Aslan with his prayers, but as soon as he reached any one of their group, he would notify Dorbin through sending at the earliest possible moment.
There were footsteps outside the door now and hushed feminine voices. Caroline rolled over so that she was facing the wall, drew the blanket more securely over her and pretended to be asleep as the door opened and the ladies-in-waiting arrived for the night.
The three servants had of course been properly deferential to Lady Bigfellow, but they no doubt viewed Caroline as a noblewoman, even if she didn't see herself that way, and must have resented sharing their quarters with her, even for one night. Caroline's relentlessly gloomy mien hadn't endeared her to them, either.
"Shhh- she's asleep!" the eldest, Michelle, hissed to the others in a stage whisper that Caroline knew would have woken her had she actually been asleep.
"Thank The Saint; she's a gloomy girl, that one!" whispered Jolene, another of the girls.
"Oh, leave her be," Aleena, the youngest at what Caroline had guessed at no more than fifteen, piped up. "Haven't you heard her husband is off on a royal quest, and hasn't been heard from since? How would you feel?"
"I'd feel better just knowing I had a husband," Jolene responded amongst the sounds of undressing. "As the widow of a knight, at last I wouldn't be thrown out into the cold."
Three sighs of relief told Caroline that the crushing corsets the ladies were undoubtedly forced to wear during the day had been discarded.
"Well, I'm for one glad Ehlissa isn't here to hear you talk about men that way," Aleena retorted. "Married and gone only a week now," she sighed, her voice dreamy. "Away from work and toil. I can't wait to find my true love."
"Be sure to warn him beforehand what a scatterbrain you are," Jolene shot back, but her voice was teasing now.
There were muffled exclamations, and the sounds of pillows being wielded, but Michelle's voice soon put a stop to it.
"Such children. My oh my, aren't there any grown-ups here I can show my magnificent new gown to? Perhaps I should wake up Lady Bigfellow!"
There were squeals of protest, and the sound of crates being moved around and other noises. Eventually, they all gaveway to indrawn breaths and sounds of admiration.
"It's beautiful, Michelle!"
"That silk, so white and soft- is it elven?"
"Look at the gold filigree. That's the real thing!"
"And these gemstones; they're small but look how many of them there are!"
"Even the cloak is magnificent; what kind of fur is it?"
"This outfit would be the envy of the Baroness herself! Does she know about it?"
"Are you daft? She'd take it away from me in a moment! Say I was putting on airs or something. No, I'm going to try it on tomorrow when I get a break, but I'm keeping this under wraps until I'm married and well away from here, just like Ehlissa."
"But if it came from Sir Kenneth," Aleena's voice was more serious now, "Her Ladyship would know for sure, wouldn't she?"
Caroline could almost hear Michelle shrug. "So? I've seen him stand up to his mother before. I'm sure he'd do it for his future wife."
"And you're positive this came from him?" Jolene asked, some skepticism evident in her voice. "You said this had been delivered anonymously this morning, and there was no note."
"Put it this way," Michelle responded, her voice dripping with smugness. "If it didn't, that means there are two noblemen secretly vying for my affections. I can live with that, couldn't you?"
"Unless the one who sent this turns out to look like a troglodyte," Jolene smirked.
There followed more exclamations and the whump of pillows, but Lady Bigfellow ceased listening.
Even after all the sounds had ceased for the night, Caroline lay awake, wondering how and why she was feeling even more uneasy than she had before.