Emyl took the duty and cooked a nice lentil stew that night. The lentils, turnips and a few old carrots from Offa had made a tasty feast. After sup, Derica dozed by the fire as the men rolled a pair of die across the floor. Garren wasn’t much for gambling, but Emyl had insisted and now Garren owned nearly everything his three comrades had.
“Now that you are so wealthy, do you think we could go into the town and buy some flour?” Derica had been listening to her husband win. “I have a fancy for bread.”
The men looked up from their game. “I think that could be arranged,” Garren said. “But it would be wiser to send Emyl into town. He would be far less noticeable to your family should they happen to be in the area.”
Odd how days had passed and she hadn’t thought of her fanatical family. But thoughts of them suddenly filled her mind and she was unsettled again. How people who had professed to love her could wish such unhappiness for her by wanting to destroy the man she loved was beyond her comprehension.
“Do you think they’ve managed to track us here?” she asked.
Garren shrugged. “’Tis hard to say. We’re far away from Framlingham, but if they’ve a true desire to track us, there is no telling how far they’ll go. ‘Tis best to be safe right now and stay where we are.”
“We’ll go,” David passed a nervous glance at Derica. “If there is any news of visitors in town, we’ll discover it.”
Garren tried to keep the smile from his lips. Over the past few days, David had shown a noticeable interest in Derica and seemed absolutely terrified by it. Garren could hardly blame him. The young man had spent years in isolation and suddenly there was a beautiful young woman in his midst. Derica wasn’t oblivious, but she had been polite about it.
“My thanks,” Garren said. “But in case there are, make no provocative move. Return to the castle immediately and I shall decide a course of action.”
David nodded his dark head. “We’ll defend you, have no doubt.”
“I don’t. Your loyalty is appreciated.”
David didn’t say any more. He was uncomfortable saying what he had, afraid he’d sounded like a fool. Offa slapped his nephew on the shoulder. “You needn’t worry, my lady. Even if they make it to the castle, we know many places to hide and avenues of escape. They’ll never get you.”
Derica smiled in thanks. “I hope we’re not too much of a burden.”
“Not at all. David and I crave the excitement.”
“But your life was so quiet before we came.”
Offa snorted. “It was dull. At least now we have something to look forward to.”
“A battle?”
The old man’s eyes lit up, memories of glory from long ago filling his mind. “Indeed. Fine adventures of bloody battles!”
Derica looked at her husband and they smiled at each other. After a few more moments of languishing before the fire, she forced herself to stand. “I believe I shall go to bed.” She stretched her shapely body. “Good eve to you, my lords.”
The men responded politely. David stole a quick glance but just as quickly turned away. Garren excused himself and followed his wife up the narrow steps the led into the minstrel’s gallery above the hall. He’d fashioned a large screen out of wood and rushes, hiding them from the view down below. A pallet of more rushes and bedding from Emyl’s humble home lay upon the floor, comfortable enough for the two of them. Garren felt bad that he had nothing to offer her other than borrowed goods and the bare minimum of comfort. She deserved so much more. As his wife lay down, he tucked the worn coverlets in around her.
“Someday, we’ll have a massive castle and the finest bedding money can buy,” he said softly. “You will only touch satins and silks, I swear it.”
She smiled. “I have had that. It matters naught if you are not with me to share it.”
“So you prefer rushes that scratch and poke?”
“As long as they scratch and poke you, too.”
He sat there a moment, gazing down at her, torn between tremendous joy and tremendous sorrow. He could not delay the inevitable; the longer he put it off, the harder it would be.
It was quiet in the gallery. He tucked the covers in tighter around her, trying to think of the correct words, when she interrupted his thoughts.
“I have something to tell you,” she said softly.
“You do? What?”
“You’re going to be leaving soon.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I am?”
“Aye,” she nodded. “You must attend William Marshal. He needs to know all that has gone on at Framlingham during the past few weeks.”