Immortal Unchained(119)

"Lady Tiernay?" It was the oldest of the train who greeted her, his expensive robes rustling as he dismounted and faced her. He wore a hopeful expression.

"Aye. You are from the king." She stated the obvious, and the gentleman nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he took her hand and bowed to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Lord Templetun, at your service."

"You are welcome here at Tiernay, Lord Templetun," Helen said formally, then placed her hand on his arm and turned toward the stairs. "Pray, you must be hungry and thirsty after your journey. Allow us to welcome you properly with a meal and drink."

Nodding, Lord Templetun started up the stairs with her, calling orders over his shoulder as they went. They had nearly reached the door to the keep when it burst open and the children poured out. Laughing and screaming one moment, they were wide-eyed and silent the next. At the sight of Helen and Lord Templetun, the group mumbled their excuses and moved solemnly down the stairs, only to burst into a noisy run once they were past. Headed back to the game she and Goliath had interrupted, Helen thought with amusement. She smiled and ignored the questioning glance Lord Templetun threw her.

Leading him inside, she urged the king's man to the table the children had just emptied. Helen saw him seated in the head chair that her father had always occupied, then excused herself for a quick trip to the kitchens. She returned moments later with a passel of servants trailing her, bearing the finest food and wine available in Tiernay keep, on its finest silver trays. After nervously supervising the serving of Lord Templetun, at last Helen seated herself beside him and sipped silently from a mug of mead while he ate. She was impatient to confirm his purpose in being there, but she knew it would be rude to do so before he had satisfied his hunger and thirst.

Fortunately for her state of mind, Templetun was not a man to waste time on savoring sustenance. He devoured a shocking amount of food-and even more of her finest wine-in a trice, then sat back with a satisfied sigh and beamed.

"I must compliment you on a fine table, my lady. That meal did you credit."

"Thank you, my lord," Helen murmured, wondering how to broach the subject of his purpose. Templetun soon put an end to that worry by tugging a scroll from his voluminous robes.

"I bring news from the king." He set the parchment before her, then began to dig at his not-so-shiny teeth with the longish nail of the baby finger on his right hand as he awaited her perusal of it.

Her hands suddenly shaking, Helen broke the seal and quickly unrolled the scroll, her mind racing over the possibilities of how the king intended to punish her neighbor for his rough treatment of his subjects. Appoint someone to watch over him? Fine him? Chastise him? 

"Marry him?" The words seemed to scream out of the scroll at Helen as her eyes flew over its contents. "Nay!" Her head was suddenly light and fuzzy. Feeling herself sway, she shook her head determinedly and peered at Templetun. "Surely this is a jest?"

She was so upset, she didn't even notice that she was agitatedly tearing the scroll as she glared at Lord Templetun. Nor did she notice the sudden wary concern on the man's face as he slowly shook his head. "Nay, my lady. The king does not jest."

"Well, he must-He cannot-This is-" Helen's stumbling monologue died abruptly at the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned, relieved to spy her aunt entering the room. Aunt Nell was ever the voice of reason. She would know what to do about this . . . situation.

"Aunt Nell!" Even Helen was taken aback by the desperate tone of her voice as she launched out of her seat and rushed to greet the woman who had served as mother to her since her own mother's death some few years ago.

"What is it, my dear?" her aunt asked and caught her hands, her gaze sliding between the ripped and crumpled scroll Helen held and her niece's pallid face.

"The king, he sent Lord Templetun here." Helen gestured at the man at the table. "And he-" Unable to even say it, she shoved the remains of the scroll at her older relative, silently urging her to read it.

Taking the torn message, Lady Nell uncrumpled it and slowly read its contents. Helen watched as her aunt's eyes flew over the words on the page, then paused, went to the top, then flew over it again.

"Nay," the woman breathed with a horror as deep as Helen's own, then whirled on the man still seated at the table. "Is this a jest, my lord? Because if it is, 'tis a sad one indeed."

"Nay, my lady." The king's man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking oddly guilty. His gaze darted around the room, looking everywhere but at its occupants, then he said, "The king dictated that missive himself and ordered me to bring it to you. I am to take another on to Lord Holden and bring him back here for the wedding. The king thought it would be good to allow your people time to prepare for the celebration."