CHAPTER TWO MIDDLEHAM, APRIL 1468

Marion liked life at Middleham Castle very much. There were more comforts there then there ever had been back at the house near the Minster. Marion got to have cheese with her bread and milk, and was allowed to have it every day even when she did something wrong. And oh, what a surprise the punishments where! When she did something wrong, (which was not as often as it had been in Isolde's house) Marion was simply given a quick hit with a large wooden spoon, three times on her bottom; that was all. Even better than the lenient punishments, was the food. Not only did Marion get to have cheese with bread and milk every day, there was also a daily dinner just after noon. Dinner every day! There were some bad things, though, like not having Katherine there, and not going to the Minster every Sunday like she used to. There was a priest at the small chapel at Middleham, but no kindly mostly bald Brothers. Marion missed Brother back at the Minster. Apart from these things though, life at Middleham was simply grand, but all good things must come to an end, and on this day they did.

"Catch me! Catch me! You cannot catch me!" Innogen cried in a sing-song voice as her long golden tresses flew about her pretty heart-shaped face.

Innogen Howard was senior to Marion by three years, though she retained all the youthfulness of a child. Since Marion's first day at Middleham as a ward to the powerful Earl of Warwick, the two cousins had been inseparable. In Marion's humble four, nearly five-year-old opinion, Innogen had inherited the good looks of her sister, and her vague memories of Katherine's descriptions of their father. With shimmering blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a widow's peak gently dipping her forehead, Innogen radiated the Morton family beauty; beauty that did not pass to Marion.

Presently, the two were playing in the stables, after a lesson in proper horse-back riding. They had been taught how to ride side saddle, as a lady ought, but the lessons had ended half an hour ago, when the bell at Middleham's little chapel had tolled noon. The girls raced through the stables, causing both horses and men to shy away from them in terror. They flung a whole manner of obscene objects at one another; from horse dung to rushes. Needless to say, both girls were filthy, and causing a terrible ruckus; and it was in this state that Margaret, Marion's primary caregiver at Middleham found them.

"Jesu`!" she cried, her hands flying from her apron to her mouth in a heartbeat. "What are you girls doing?"

Both girls stopped in their tracks, glancing guiltily at Margaret, before casting shy looks at each other. Their dresses were stained and torn, their hair muddy and filled with rushes.

"We were playing, Lady," squeaked Innogen. "We thought it'd be fine to play before dinner this afternoon."

"It was my idea," Marion whispered, stepping forward. It had been her idea, and she wanted to make sure that was known, so her dear cousin would not be faulted for her foolishness.

"Truly, Marion?" Margaret gasped.

Marion bowed her head.

"Be that as it may, both of you will be hearing about this from my Lord Warwick. The summer harvest is nearly upon us, and you have caused terrible mess and disruption to much needed work."

The girls nodded, before following Margaret into the Castle, most likely to their doom.

Margaret had been almost as constant as Innogen in Marion's life at Middleham. She was senior to Katherine by about ten or so years, and had a comely face and rounded body. She had been nothing but kind, though strict, to Marion since her arrival. And since the two shared a bedchamber at the far back of the Castle, Marion had felt a need to get on with the older woman. Life at Middleham had been made easier by Margaret, who had helped Marion settle into a new routine, and held her when she cried for her sister in the night. If not for Margaret, Marion did not think her life at Middleham would have been enjoyable at all, even with Innogen there.

It was because of Margaret, that Marion had learned quickly to adapt to life, and to the daily routine at Middleham. She would wake early when the bell tolled, and all were encouraged to awaken and say their prayers. So, she did. Her mornings were spent helping the girls in the kitchens prepare the big dinners that were had at just after noon every day. After a meager meal of bread and cheese and a glass of milk to break her own fast, Marion would work on needlework. She was not good at the sewing, not as good as her sister was, but she still worked adequately. At first, Marion had thought that she was being taught to be a lady, but Margaret had quickly put her flights of fancy to an end, and told her the truth of the matter: she was being taught to be a maid for a highborn lady. Margaret, stern, strict, sometimes cold, and mostly wonderful, had helped Marion than anyone else at this huge castle fortress that she now called home, and for that, she would be forever grateful.

And now Margaret was leading the girls towards the Earl's study, and despite her best efforts to keep the feeling at bay, Marion could not help but feel betrayed.

As far as Marion was aware, there were two people at Middleham who bore the title of "Duke". Both, were younger brothers to the King, and both were dear friends to the Earl of Warwick. The first, was George, the Duke of Clarence, the young man who had brought Marion to Middleham a year before. The second was Richard, Duke of Gloucester, who was going to take Marion away, back to the place she had once called home. Gloucester was to take her home, simply because his brother, Clarence, was too drunk to form a coherent sentence that day.

It was because of their stunt in the stables. It seemed that both girls had caused more trouble with the upcoming harvest than either they, or Margaret, realized (several horses used to help reap the earth had been injured). Since Marion was the one responsible, she bore the brunt of the punishment. There had been a spanking - just to teach her a lesson - then exile - to make sure the lesson was learned. And now Marion was standing in the Outer Bailey with the Duke of Gloucester, preparing to leave on the same gray pony she had arrived on.

She wept, holding her cousin in her thin arms, Innogen's long locks gently brushing her forehead.

"I am s-so s-s-sorry, J-Jenny,"

"Hush," said Innogen, wiping away the younger girl's tears. "I'm older, so I should have talked you out of it. But enough of this sadness, we shall see each other again one day, if the Lord wills it."

Marion nodded, chocked back a sob, and held her cousin tighter.

"It is time to go, come along." the Duke of Gloucester said roughly, mounting his jet black stallion.

Marion nodded, blinking tearfully up into her cousin's face. "Farewell Jenny Howard. May God keep you."

"And you, Marion Morton. Farewell."

She watched her cousin sadly. She was going to miss Innogen, there was no doubt about that. She would also miss the day-to-day routine at Middleham. Yes, there were chores to be done, but there were no beatings if she got them wrong, no one yelled at her if she did not speak like an adult, or if she did not understand what someone said to her. People here were far kinder to her than Isolde was at her own home. Why that woman did not like her, Marion did not know. She would miss observing the two Dukes, watching the Earl's daughters, Isabel and Anne go about their daily lives (Anne, being the more adventurous one, getting into scrapes, dumping pales of water on Marion's new companion's head, and Isabel being the perfect lady), and she would miss waking up to the sight of Margaret sprawled on her side of the bed, her hair in her mouth each morning. It had been a comical sight to behold upon opening her eyes. Oh, the irony, all Marion had wanted when she first came to this castle was to go home, now, she only wanted to stay.

As Marion struggled to mount her pony, she reflected on the bitter end that she would be leaving a loved one behind, only to journey back to another loved one, along with someone she did not like at all. Though she had not seen much of him, Marion knew enough of her new companion to see that he was the quiet, bookish one, skilled in sword, bow and arrow, a good horseback rider, and loyal. She could also see that he looked nothing like his brother of Clarence. His hair was ebony, where Clarence's hair was dark blonde, his eyes the color of the sky at midnight where Clarence's were that of a stormy sea. And as long as he kept snapping at her as they rode back to her home, Marion could also see that she did not like him.

Not one bit.