Raven’s Rise Read online

  “No word ahead, and then I’m supposed to leave off my own work to get a lady ready for show,” she muttered, the rest of the complaint lost amid the fabrics spilling out of the chest the maid was hunting through.

  “The white gown will do,” Angelet said. “I’ll wear the rose surcoat to make it look more stately.” And to hide the stains on the front of the underskirt. Angelet’s wardrobe was not well-attended to on wash days.

  Bethany performed the bare minimum of assistance to get Angelet dressed. Then she left the room. Angelet tied the laces down the sides of the surcoat herself. She deliberately made the ties loose, allowing the surcoat to billow out a bit, and to make the armholes extra large. Angelet didn’t like it when clothing hugged her curves too tightly. When she was finished, she looked down at her outfit with a satisfied nod. The rose over the white was pretty but not ostentatious, and the loose fit ensured that she’d be comfortable throughout the evening.

  She brushed her hair to a glossy sheen, and left it mostly loose, braiding only a thin crown around the back of her head to hold the rest in place. The fine, light blonde strands tended to fly when let loose. As a lady, however, Angelet couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her hair be completely free.

  She wore two silver rings—one was a gift from her mother on the day she left home and the other was a wedding band. Normally, that would be the only jewelry she’d wear. But something made her open the little box on the table.

  She pulled out a necklace of five large, oval moonstones set in silver. She put the necklace on, peering in her small hand mirror. The necklace was the one valuable thing she owned, and it was meant for truly important occasions. Not an ordinary supper. But she kept it on, liking the weight of the stones around her neck. Otto would be annoyed she wore them, and Angelet looked forward to seeing his expression.

  She went downstairs, wondering what she was supposed to do that evening. Otto rarely called for her attendance for any events when visitors came to Dryton. He preferred her out of sight and out of mind. Yet he called for her specifically tonight. Why?

  In the great hall, she saw the group of men who’d ridden into the courtyard earlier. There were four in total. So they weren’t simply travelers asking accommodations for the night. They were important enough for Otto to invite to table. Interesting.

  The black-haired man was just as handsome as he’d seemed at first glance, perhaps even more so. He looked around the hall, and when his eyes met hers, he smiled warmly, as if he knew her already. Angelet quickly looked away. She didn’t want to encourage anything, especially from a knight likely to be as arrogant as he was good-looking.

  Unfortunately, there was another arrogant man in the room, and he was walking directly toward her. Her brother-in-law Ernald Yarborough was a thorn in her side. He had a knack for finding her at the worst possible times, and she hated the way he looked at her.

  She greeted some people as she made her way to her usual seat. The men in the hall looked at her, and most didn’t bother to hide their appraisal. The villagers and servants about the manor were circumspect—the difference in class was ingrained from birth, and very few of them would ever dare to insult a lady by a too-blatant appreciation. But the men-at-arms were different. Rough in personality and manners, they thought nothing of staring at her, and even muttering a few choice words that only she could hear.

  Angelet didn’t even respond to them. Instead, she moved past as quickly as she could, finding the nearest group of people to protect her by their presence. She’d learned to keep an eye out while pretending to notice nothing. She always knew where it was safe to walk and what hours she should remain in her chambers or with other women of the manor. No one taught her this—no one cared enough to do so.

  But Ernald was different. He was unavoidable.

  “Look who’s come from her tower. Angelet the visionary. And with such jewels!” her brother-in-law said. “You’re asking for attention.”

  “Lord Otto wanted me to attend,” she murmured coolly. She wasn’t asking for attention, and she certainly wasn’t asking for Ernald’s.

  “Then you’ll sit by me.”

  “I will not.”

  “No point seating you by a guest,” he said, glancing about jealously. “What will you discuss with those men? Embroidery? Or do you think yourself so pretty you don’t need to say anything?”

  Angelet was used to such remarks and paid them no mind. “Enjoy your supper. I will find my place at the table.”

  “Your place isn’t for you to decide.” Ernald stepped closer, his expression turning ugly. “If you won’t act as part of this family, you should take your meal in the kitchen. Or better yet, the courtyard, with the beggars and freaks.”

  Then, with no warning, the black-clad knight appeared between Angelet and her tormentor.

  “Such comments are not polite,” he said flatly. “Apologize to her.”

  “Or what?” Ernald asked, amazed that anyone would speak to him like that in his own home.

  “I’ll decide it’s a matter of honor,” the stranger said. He didn’t seem the least bit taken aback. Did he not understand Ernald’s rank? “You definitely look old enough to have been taught the concept of honor by now.”

  “What does that mean?” Ernald snapped.

  “It means we’ll fight. And lately, every man I’ve fought has either surrendered or died. I care not which it will be for you.”

  Ernald inhaled, puffing out his chest in offense. “I am the only living son of Lord Otto, to be a lord in my time. You’re nothing more than a soldier. Who are you to teach me lessons in manners?”

  “Sir Rafe. I’m also called the Knight of the Raven.”

  That name had some effect on Ernald and the others standing within earshot. Angelet didn’t know what special meaning it held. All she knew was that no one had come to her defense in nearly ten years.

  Now that defender turned to her. “My lady? What is your wish? Should I press this matter for your sake?”

  She looked at the sweating Ernald, picturing him bleeding on a field, and finding a perverse and primal joy in the image. Then she sighed. “No, sir knight. He is my brother by marriage, and I would not wish to be the cause of his death.”

  “His own stupidity and rudeness would be the cause,” the knight argued.

  “Nonetheless, I humbly beg you to overlook his rudeness and stupidity,” Angelet said. “Trust me, no amount of education will repair those flaws.”

  The knight smiled slightly at her words, and Angelet felt a stirring of satisfaction in saying them. For once, there was someone who heard her, if only for a moment.

  “I am Sir Rafe,” he said, bowing. “Whom do I have the pleasure of defending?”

  “My name is Angelet,” she replied, warmth spreading through her. Up close, the man had truly beautiful eyes, and she found herself blushing at his attention.

  “May I defend you through supper, my lady?” he asked.

  “Why…yes.” She couldn’t believe he would want to dance attendance on her. She was nobody. “That is, if you wish to spend your evening with a woman of no renown.”

  Escorted by him, she walked to her usual seat and sank down on the little cushion placed there.

  “I’ve renown enough of my own,” he said, taking the seat beside her. He spoke in such a way that it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not. “In truth, I wish the company of a civilized person for a few hours. The road is not civilized, and I’ve had enough of it.”

  “Where have you come from?”

  “Most recently, from the south, by way of Ashthorpe. I follow the tourney circuit,” he added.

  “The Knight of the Raven. I know that name now,” she said, finally connecting it. “It is said you always win.”

  “It is said correctly,” he acknowledged. “Do I offend with my lack of modesty? I’ve never been a modest man.”

  “So long as you speak truth, I cannot see how anyone could object.”

  “Tru
th is rarely much appreciated,” Rafe said. “In fact, it usually gets me into trouble.”

  Otto and the rest of the family sat, as did the others in the room. Suppers were often large affairs, with many people partaking of Otto’s largesse. Tonight was one of those nights. The mood seemed almost celebratory.

  “What brings you to Dryton?” she asked. “Are you just passing though? You mentioned travel.”

  “So I did, but the fact is that my companions and I are hoping to be hired for the job Lord Otto needs done.”

  “What is that?” she asked.

  Rafe looked puzzled, but said, “Someone from Dryton is to be escorted somewhere. That’s all I know. You have not heard of this?”

  “No, but Otto does not consult me on such matters. Why does he want to hire outside men? We’ve plenty of men-at-arms here.”

  Rafe said, “He may not wish to reduce the ranks of defenders. Though the fighting has quieted down this past winter, it could flare up again, anywhere. These are nervous times.”

  “That must be it,” Angelet said, seeing the sense in the soldier’s words. “I know little of the details of the struggle between Stephen and Maud. To be honest, I know nothing.”

  “Excellent. Just don’t ask me about it either. I despise politics,” Rafe said.

  “Don’t you need to know what’s happening?”

  He took a bite of his meal and looked unimpressed. He said, “I used to think so. Now I need only know if the road ahead of me will be affected. It’s all that matters.”

  She pondered that. His mode of living was so entirely different from hers.

  After a long moment, he said, “The stones around your neck. What are they?”

  “Moonstone.” She touched one of the cool jewels. “Have you not seen such before?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully, as if trying to recall something long past. “Unusual,” he added, “and beautiful.”

  She smiled, pleased he liked them.

  Rafe laughed once then, at himself. “To think I missed that opportunity! I’m more tired from travel than I thought. You must pretend I said that they are as beautiful as the woman who wears them.”

  Angelet was delighted at the compliment, transparently flattering as it was. “I thank you, sir.”

  “It’s a lie, of course,” he added, the charming tone gone from his voice.

  Angelet looked down. “Oh.”

  “They are not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Even though they are among the more remarkable stones I’ve seen, they are nothing next to you.”

  Warily, Angelet raised her eyes to look at him. Which of his statements was she to believe? Or any? Was he teasing her, just like all the others?

  “It’s truth,” he said, not looking away.

  She swallowed. “You say so?”

  “From what I’ve seen just in this room? Yes, I say so.”

  Angelet wasn’t sure how to reply, and in any case, it didn’t matter, because Otto stood up and called for attention.

  “Everyone, everyone! Still your tongues for one moment, for I have something to tell you all. The dinner you are enjoying is a celebration. I wish to acknowledge someone here: none other than our Angelet.” He swept a hand toward her, and after a moment of surprised silence, the crowd began to clap.

  “Yes,” Otto said after a moment. “She is such a part of the manor, and so modest that many might not think of her. But tonight is her night.”

  Angelet had no idea what he was leading up to, and leaned forward so as not to miss anything.

  “How desolate the manor of Dryton will be, upon losing such a singular person,” Otto went on. “Yet it is time for Angelet to follow her destined path. I am pleased to share with you all some excellent news. The abbot of Basingwerke has agreed to accept Angelet as a postulant. She will be escorted there by these fine soldiers, who will keep her safe until she reaches Basingwerke Abbey. Then she will pass through those gates, to begin her life as a holy nun.”

  Chapter 4

  Angelet could not have heard properly. The words Otto just spoke made no sense to her. “Postulant,” she murmured, in an uncomprehending echo. “Basingwerke.”

  “You intend to take the veil?” the knight at her side inquired. “You didn’t say you’re the person we are to escort.”

  She shook her head slightly, as if that could open her ears. “I don’t…”

  “Angelet!” Now Otto stood by her side, looming between her and Sir Rafe. “You are extremely fortunate, my girl. I know the news comes as a surprise, but a welcome one, I hope.”

  “It is indeed a surprise, my lord,” she said, her mind swirling. “I have many questions!”

  “Then I’ll answer them,” Otto said heartily. “This moment in fact, to put your mind at ease. Come with me.” He emphasized his command by putting a meaty hand upon her shoulder.

  “Please excuse me, Sir Rafe,” she murmured.

  “My lady.” He rose to his feet when she did, a courtesy her own family often ignored. His expression was polite, but when she caught his gaze for a moment, she saw some speculation there, a recognition that the upcoming trip might be in doubt.

  But then Angelet was being driven along by Otto, like a lamb before a shepherd’s dog. He directed her to a little alcove in one corner of the great hall. It was shadowed by a curtain that fell halfway across the opening. There was a comfortable padded bench, but Angelet remained standing.

  “My lord, we have never spoken of this!” she began. “I’ve no wish for a religious life, and no calling for it.”

  “You have visions of heaven, Angelet,” Otto countered.

  “I do not want them,” she insisted. “If I could be free of the occurrences, I would do it in a heartbeat…”

  “That is what the abbot of Basingwerke offers.”

  She blinked several times, as Otto’s words sunk in. “He knows of my visions?”

  “He does. Father Mark has reported news of your visions to his superiors, along with some details of what you recorded. Other visitors have their own tales too. Some are quite moved by what you claim to have seen, and by the scenes you’ve created out of mere thread and cloth.”

  “I do not seek fame for what I experience. Only an end.”

  “An end is precisely what you will find at Basingwerke. The abbot there has seen similar instances before. If you are merely sick, you will be treated. If you truly experience divine visions…well, what better place for you to be than in a house of God?”

  “But at the cost of remaining there? For the rest of my life?”

  “Everything comes with a cost, Angelet.”

  “But…” If she were confined, who would be there for Henry? Her own life didn’t matter so much, but her son still needed an advocate. “What of Henry? He needs a mother…”

  “Young Henry can certainly visit you there. That is a fair deal, is it not? You may be healed, and you’ll be safe and well occupied, and you’ll be able to write to your son and accept visits when his time allows. Perhaps he’ll inherit one of my manors close to Basingwerke. Or, even sooner, I could have him fostered by another family in the shire. Wouldn’t that be a happy solution? ”

  She stilled. So that was the true bargain. Otto knew her vulnerability all too well. The implied promise was that if she behaved and went along with Otto’s plans, she’d be reunited with Henry in some limited way. Unlike now, when he was kept from her entirely. “I see.”

  He added in an annoyed tone, “Have I not done well, to seek out assistance for your singular plight? No one else has done as much for you. Where is your thanks?”

  “I thank you most sincerely for your consideration, my lord,” she said in a more obedient tone. “I only wished for more warning.”

  “You have it now. By the way, do not speak of any of this to the hirelings.”

  “Why not?”

  “They are soldiers, and strangers,” Otto said. “They would not understand the complexities o
f the situation. If any of them asks, tell them merely that it is your ardent desire to take the veil. Do not mention your visions, or the physical afflictions that follow.”

  Ah. He was afraid that Sir Rafe and his men would refuse the job if they knew about Angelet’s infirmity beforehand. Of course they would. Who would want to worry about escorting a sick and raving woman through the woods? “Am I to be alone then? Will no one who knows my state be there in case of an emergency?”

  “Don’t be simple. You’ll have a female companion for the journey. One of the maids will go.”

  Then Otto walked her back to the main table, after warning her to show joy about the decision made for her.

  Sir Rafe stood once again as she returned, and waited for her to sit before he also sat.

  “Where were you raised, Sir Rafe?” she asked, hoping to steer talk away from herself. “You have the air of a man used to the court.”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I was raised at a manor in Shropshire. My environment was no more refined than here.”

  “Have you been to court?”

  “A few times. But I’ve seen the king more often on campaign…a setting where courtly manners mean little.”

  “You’ve seen the king?” she asked, surprised. “King Stephen? In person?”

  “Aye, and spoken with him once—on the day I was knighted. He wouldn’t remember me. My liege at the time owed allegiance to Stephen.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I have no lord,” Sir Rafe said, his eyes distant.

  She nodded, though his answer puzzled her. Masterless men were not particularly welcome in the world. It was too chancy to have free lances wandering the land. That was how bandits gained strength, she was told. It was easier to steal and kill than to serve honorably. Yet Rafe seemed an honorable man. What had caused him to leave his lord’s service?

  “Is it lonely?” she asked. “To be your own master?”

  “Sometimes. But not always. For instance, there are times when I get to dine with a lovely woman.” His smile made her heart flutter, but she pushed the feeling away.

  “You are a flirt,” she said, attempting to sound annoyed by it.