Immortal Unchained(117)

"Aye, my lady."

Helen began to thread her needle, her attention focused on the task as she asked Maggie, "So, you are from Holden?"

"Aye." The old woman cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably on her perch. "I used to be in charge of the chambermaids there."

"Used to?" Helen inquired gently. She drew the thread through the needle's eye, then glanced up in time to note the bitterness that flashed across the servant's face.

"Aye. I was released last Christmastide," the woman admitted reluctantly. A moment later she blurted, "The lord wanted only young and pretty maids to serve in the chambers."

Helen's mouth thinned. Such news didn't surprise her. Very little could surprise her regarding the Hammer of Holden's behavior. Hard work and service were not often repaid kindly by the man. Cruel bastard, she thought with irritation, then forced herself to start mending the large jagged tear in the children's ball. After several stitches she felt calm enough to ask, "And what have you been doing for these last six months?"

The woman cleared her throat again. "Farmer White had been courting me up until then. He was a widow," she explained, blushing like a lass fresh out of a schoolroom. "When I was released, we married. I tended his home and helped on the farm." Her smile and blush faded, leaving her pale and weary looking. "He died these two weeks past."

"I am sorry," Helen said gently. Glimpsing the tears that sprang to the woman's eyes before Maggie lowered her head, she turned her attention back to her task. Deciding she had left just enough unsewn, she turned the ball back inside out and began to stuff it with feathers. She was nearly done with the chore when Maggie recovered enough to continue.

"I knew there would be trouble. I couldn't manage the farm on my own, of course . . . ."

"He evicted you and gave the farm to another couple," Helen guessed quietly. Such wasn't unheard of, but to her mind it was cruel to treat someone so shabbily when they had worked so hard and faithfully for so long.

Maggie nodded. "He sent poor young Stephen down as usual to do his dirty work."

Helen nodded. Stephen was Lord Holden's second, the man left in charge of Holden while the Hammer was away. Which appeared to be quite often. Lord Holden seemed forever off doing battle somewhere. But while Stephen was Holden Castle's chatelain, none of the decisions were his. Surely the Hammer kept up a steady discourse with the man, ordering him to do this or that-none of it very pleasant or kind-and from all accounts, young Stephen suffered horribly from being forced to carry out such wicked deeds.

"He had Stephen claim everything in the cottage for heriot," Maggie continued, drawing Helen's attention back to her. "Then he was ordered to burn it all before me and send me on my way."




 

 

Helen's eyes widened incredulously. Heriot was the equivalent of a death tax, a legal part of the feudal system. But claiming every last possession, then burning it all . . . well, that was just cruel. And deliberately so. "Did Stephen do it?"

Maggie grimaced. "Aye. He is a faithful servant. He apologized the whole while, but he did it."

Helen nodded solemnly as she stuffed the last of the feathers firmly into the ball and prepared to sew it closed. Of course young Stephen had done it. He would follow his lord's orders.

"His mother would have wept to see him forced to act so."

Helen glanced up questioningly at the woman's words and Maggie explained. "We were friends when she lived in the village. This would have broken her heart."

"She is dead?" she asked politely, knowing the old servant needed the change of topic to help her maintain composure. If talking about Stephen's mother would help her distance herself from her recent losses, Helen saw no reason not to indulge her.

"Oh, nay. She is not dead. But when Stephen became chatelain and was forced to dole out such harsh punishments . . . Well, she could not bear to stand by and watch. She left the village. Most people think she is dead, but I think she is living on the border of Tiernay and Holden. Stephen often rides out this way for the afternoon. I think he is visiting her." She fell silent for a moment, then added, "He rode out here after seeing to burning my things. Probably went to visit her then as well."

Helen took in the lost expression on the old woman's face and the way she was slumping in her seat and said gently, "And so you came to Tiernay."

"Aye." Maggie sat a little straighter. "My daughter married the tavern keeper in the village ten years back."

Helen nodded. She knew the tavern owner and his wife, of course.

"And they have offered to take me in . . . but they must have your permission first."