Shattered Vows(86)

Beggars couldn’t afford to be choosy.

‘Come, girl.’ Lady Adeliza’s voice made her start. ‘We must leave the men to do their work. Thank God Sir Oliver knows what he’s about. I confess I am relieved he’s back at Ingerthorpe, I have little knowledge of military strategy. Naturally it was never my domain, but when Sir Gerard didn’t have the first idea how to proceed, I was forced to intervene.’ She grimaced and her black veil shivered in the breeze. ‘Ghastly, utterly ghastly. However, I’m glad to see my nephew can handle matters. My son had doubts as to de Warenne’s integrity but you, my dear, apparently do not.’

‘N...no my lady. You are right to trust him,’ Rosamund said, bemused. Heavens, did Lady Adeliza just call her ‘my dear’?

Lady Adeliza’s face softened and her gaze followed Oliver as he went into the armoury. ‘I see much of my wilful sister in him,’ she said, wistfully. Her voice hardened. ‘Now...girl...what’s your name?’

‘Rosamund, my lady.’

‘Well, Rosamund, we cannot neglect our duties. Do you know anything of healing?’

Rosamund blinked, there was no sign of the distraught woman who had greeted the troop a few moments ago, Lady Adeliza Fitz Neal had returned – proud, confident and assured. ‘I know which herbs to use for most ailments, my lady, and I know how to mix-’

‘Excellent.’ Lady Adeliza nodded briskly. ‘You won’t faint at the first sight of blood?’

‘No, my lady.’

‘Come with me.’ Lady Adeliza picked up her skirts and started up the steps. ‘I could do with a wench with a sensible head on her. You will follow my directions, I need assistance with my son. Marie is too taken up with poor Margaret’s confinement to be of any use with Geoffrey; Blanche took one look, turned as pale as her name, and dropped like one dead. As for Cecily-’ Lady Adeliza broke off as she peered down the stairs at Rosamund. ‘Hurry up, girl.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘Of course, one can’t expect Cecily to do anything,’ Lady Adeliza continued, moving off again. ‘But one would at least have hoped she wouldn’t make matters worse by running off screeching. I had to send two of my ladies in search of her. There were no men spare today, as you see.’

‘It must have been very trying, my lady,’ Rosamund said.

‘Trying? You have a gift for understatement, my dear. However, with you here, we can concentrate on my son, and leave de Warenne to deal with the Angevins. And while we’re about it, you will explain how it is that you are so certain my dear sister’s son is no traitor. I felt instinctively that he was not, but Lord Geoffrey will want more than that. He won’t be pleased to hear his garrison has been entrusted to a suspected traitor on the strength of a woman’s instinct. He will want proof of his cousin’s loyalty.’

***

Rosamund had lost count of how many days had passed since her return to the castle. She had been tending her lord day and night and it had only been when she was swaying on her feet that Lady Adeliza had dismissed her.

‘Go and eat, girl,’ her lord’s mother said. ‘You’re no use if you collapse. Geoffrey is quiet, and I can manage alone for a while. I don’t want to see you until you are fully refreshed. You’ll find sweet wine in the store.’

Rosamund headed straight to the hall. Food and drink was found for her and she sunk onto a bench, too weary to care that the trestle was littered with half-eaten meals and no-one had come to clear them. In the past few days, cleaning had been a luxury the occupants of Ingerthorpe Castle had done without – everyone seemed to be preparing for a siege. There were no ladies sewing in the upper chamber – supplies were being counted; medicines and bandages were being hunted out from dusty stores; wounds were being tended.

She rubbed her eyes – they felt dry and scratchy – and squinted at the dust motes floating in a shaft of light. It must be sunny outside. On the next trestle, a couple of soldiers were bolting down their food. There was no easy banter between them, the men simply ate doggedly and went unsmiling back to their duties. They had nothing on their minds but winning. These were desperate times, it was kill or be killed.

And Oliver? What was he doing? She hadn’t seen him since he’d ridden into the bailey with her on that borrowed horse. How long ago had that been? Two days? Three? She pressed her fingers to her temples, leaned her throbbing head on the trestle and gave into exhaustion.

She could only have been sleeping for a moment when something brushed lightly over her hair. ‘Who’s that?’ she muttered, her brain was too fogged for anything more.