When he reached his destination he was dismayed to see a large guard standing outside the room. What is his connection to the Lancasters? Nothing made sense. They were clearly complicit in his deception. The man was a commoner, yet they had given him a room fit for a king. Marcus was obviously quite attached to him. And he is a mage, he thought. That was the lynch pin, the key everything revolved around. The Lancaster family needed a mage. Did that mean they knew something regarding his plans for the future? If so the Lancasters might well be seeking magical power to bolster their position.
He kept walking, nodding at the guard as he passed. Deep in thought he began to carefully consider his next step.
Much lower in the castle Penny awoke. She had worked very late so Miri, the head maid, had let her sleep in. Normally all the staff were up before dawn. Penny’s eyes snapped open, something was wrong. She had slept well, but now she was wide awake. Looking around the room she was beset with confusion.
How did I get here? she thought. “What happened?” she said. Suddenly she remembered, and her chest tightened with emotion. Fear, shame and rage fought within her for dominance. A surging storm rose up within, the fear and helpless terror of the night before washed over her, threatening her sanity. Mother, what should I do? That thought brought her nearly to tears, the helpless sorrow of a child who knows she can never go back, never go home. Her mother was dead and her father was almost an invalid, unable to work. Caring for him had become her purpose; he was why she had taken this job.
Now it was gone, along with her hopes for the future. She doubted she could keep her job once her shame became public knowledge. The room was empty so she drew the sheets back, afraid of what she might find.
She was naked, every stitch of clothing gone. There was blood on her thighs and a bandage around her right leg. The blood was to be expected, but she didn’t recall hurting her leg. He must have done that after I passed out. A vivid image rose in her mind, an ugly image of what had been done to her. The only mercy was that she had been unconscious; at least she wouldn’t have to remember that. Except in my nightmares, she added mentally.
She got up and mechanically began putting on one of her spare uniforms. Her leg was stiff where it had been injured but she felt alright otherwise. There was no soreness, no pain… down there, which seemed a bit unusual. She knew some girls had little pain, but she suspected Devon had not been gentle. “I guess I should count my blessings,” she said, and then it was too much, she began crying. The tears poured out of her and her body heaved with great wracking sobs. She hadn’t cried like this since she was a child.
Her mother had comforted her then, but there was no one now. After what seemed like hours, she ran out of tears. She was exhausted, too tired to care, too numb to feel anything. She finished dressing and decided she might as well report for duty. Before she left she tidied up the bed and put her spare clothes away. A small slip of parchment fell behind the bedside table unnoticed as she picked up the nightgown.
She found Miri and told her she was ready for work, hoping that the head maid wouldn’t be too angry with how late she had slept.
“No problem lass, you did well yesterday and we had you running till well after everyone else was snug a’bed.” The older woman seemed genuinely grateful, “If you’ll run down to the laundry and give them a hand there for a bit I’d be glad of it.” Miri’s orders always sounded like requests, as superiors went she was nicer than most.
Penny was glad to do it, anything to keep herself busy. She kept herself moving, working the rest of the day in a mad rush, desperate not to remember. No matter how she worked though, her mind kept going back to it every time she let it stray. The worst came that afternoon, she had to take fresh sheets up to the guests' rooms. Every step filled her with dread and she prayed that one particular occupant would be absent.
As luck would have it he was not in the room. She changed the sheets as quickly as possible yet she could not help but notice the blood on them, as well as a torn section that must match her bandage. She was out of the room in less than five minutes and her heart was still pounding when she reached the stairs. Thinking herself safe at last she almost ran headlong into Devon as he came up the stairs.
She came close to dropping everything and bolting, but Penny was made of sterner mettle than that. She clenched her fists, gripping the bundle of linens and made her face a mask of indifference. She had already passed him on the stair when she heard his voice, “Penny.” She stopped, refusing to turn back toward him.
“Don’t think matters are finished between us,” Devon’s voice was like ice. “Last night was just the beginning. I’ll see your blacksmith’s son cold and dead before this is over. You have my word on that.” She could feel his eyes on her back, and fear held her heart in an iron grip. In her mind she saw Mordecai lying in a field, his body broken, blood running from his nose and mouth, as he struggled to breath. Devon stood over him smiling, murder in his eyes. The vision was so powerful it made her gasp, and she knew instinctively that it would come to pass. Rage built in her, a raw animal fury, without thought she whirled, throwing the bundled laundry ahead of her. Perhaps it would distract him for a second. A second was all she needed, she would pull him down. If the fall didn’t kill him she would finish the job herself.
“Hey now! There’s no call for that!” Devon was already gone and standing where he had been was Marcus, looking surprised. The sheets had struck him full in the face and now lay scattered across the stairs. The anger that had filled her with strength drained away as speedily as it had appeared, leaving her empty. She almost lost her balance then, but Marc’s hand caught her shoulder steadying her balance. “Are you ok Penny?” His voice sounded concerned.
“Yes, yes I’m fine. I’m just not myself today.” Words were inadequate to describe just how not herself today she truly was.
“I won’t ask about the laundry, then, I can guess who made you so angry,” he jerked his head in the direction that Devon must have left in. “I wanted to talk to you anyway Penny. There are some things you need to know.”
She looked at his face, surprised at the seriousness she found there. Marc was normally the most easy going of her friends. “What is it?”
Marc took a few minutes to describe what had happened at the reception the day before. Detailing the trouble he felt was facing Mordecai. She nodded dumbly, it all made sense. He continued, “Penny you have to understand how dangerous that man is… he doesn’t understand jokes and he doesn’t tolerate insubordination. If he had been standing where I was when that laundry came flying at me, things would have gone ill for you. Worse, if he finds out you are associated with me or Mordecai he will try to use you to get at us. Do you understand?”
He’s already used me Marcus. Used me and tossed me away, she thought. “What can I do to help?” she said instead.
“Nothing Penny, I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. Just keep your head and above all else don’t let him find out about our friendship, as long as he doesn’t think you are connected to me or Mort you should be safe.” His earnestness almost brought her to tears again.
“Sure, I’ll try to avoid talking to you or Mort.” she answered.
“It’ll only be a few more days, then he’ll be on his way,” Marc tried to reassure her. He could see there were some deep emotions behind her face. He had probably offended her, but it would have to wait. He would apologize later, once Devon Tremont was safely away from Lancaster. Then they could all relax.
I woke early, well… in the early afternoon. I hadn’t gone to sleep til almost dawn and I had completely exhausted my body’s reserves, both mental and physical. Thankful for not being awakened early I sat up and stretched. Sleep had done much to repair my condition, although I still had a lingering ache in my lower back. It could have been worse I supposed.
A knock at the door gave me an idea as to what had roused me from my slumber. Crossing the room I opened it and looked out, wondering if I might find a hallway full of guards with Lord Devon behind them. Benchley stood there patiently.
“May I come in sir?” he said in his best ‘I may be a servant but I’m still better than you’ tone. It's amazing how much information some people can convey with simple inflections. I might ask him for lessons later. I stepped back so he could enter.
