Devonmere

By Jacqueline Armitage

Unrest is growing. The continued stability of the Kingdom is dependent on whom Colwyn Coltrane, the Duchess of Invermere, marries, and one man has her in his sights. Nigel McDowell, Duke of Cottesmere has vowed to wed her and gain control of her army. Can he claim her and then overthrow the King, or will his neighbour, Morgan Bodine, Duke of Ros

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jacqueline Armitage
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781802273298

Book preview

Devonmere

Jacqueline Armitage

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by Jacqueline Armitage

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [e-mail]

First paperback edition 2021

Book design by Publishing Push

Cover Designed by Amy Corbin

ISBNs:

Paperback: 978-1-80227-328-1

eBook: 978-1-80227-329-8

www.jacqueline-armitage.co.uk

Table of Contents

Dedication

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Character Map

Bibliography

Dedication

For my dear friend Edward, who would have made a fantastic Duke Morgan Bodine. Taken far too soon from us all, and never allowed to reach his full potential on screen. Sorely missed and thought about every single day.

For Wendy, for her honesty and feedback; for pushing and bullying me to ‘go for it’. Thank you, my dearest friend.

For Andy, my husband; who suffered my typing long into the night, and my ‘weird’ telephone calls to Wendy, about the project.

And finally, for my other friends who have supported me; Sarah, Dave and Kathy, who said they wanted a copy without even having a clue about what the story was about—apart from the fact that it was set in medieval times.

Thank you!

Foreword

God created man in his own image; they were one with the earth, the sea, and the air; and they flourished, although life was hard.

Then a faction grew that did not want the hard life, so they turned to stealing and taking what they wanted, and because of this, they lost their affinity with the elements. Over time, two separate races developed, the Kadeau and the humans.

The Kadeau stayed with the elements and were despised by the humans, for they had magic. Every year, their crops and animals flourished because they watched and listened to nature. Feeling they had suffered enough persecution from the humans, a few Kadeau rose up, and, using their magic, did some terrible things, but the humans retaliated and almost wiped them out.

Eventually, an uneasy truce arose; the Kadeau hid their powers, fearful of further persecution. The church tried to have any they found burned at the stake, but the rise of the Cantrell royal family stopped that from happening and they began to have Kadeau as royal protectors for the princes and kings.

Now finding favour, the Kadeau started to secretly infiltrate the church and began to grow in strength again, with some having titles bestowed upon them.

Our story is based several generations down the line. Stuart Cantrell is King of Devonmere and has a young son. His wife, Alexandra, hates the Kadeau and does not trust Morgan Bodine, the Duke of Rossmere, who is the King’s Champion, General of the Armies and, of course, Kadeau, although he actually rarely uses his powers as much as he ought to.

Unrest is growing. Nigel McDowell, the Duke of Cottesmere, has ambitions to rise above his station and is looking to overthrow Stuart Cantrell to claim the throne for himself; but to do this, he requires a substantial army and needs to weaken Stuart’s supporters. One of his neighbours, Richard Coltrane, the Duke of Invermere, has a daughter who Nigel plans on marrying, but the King is against it and so is the daughter. Should the Duke of Cottesmere succeed, he will obtain a substantial army and put a stranglehold on the Duke of Rossmere—his neighbour to the south—further weakening Stuart’s position as his general fights a war in his own Duchy.

Then he hears disturbing news; Bronwyn Coltrane, the Duchess of Invermere, is finally with child again, and it is rumoured to be a boy. The Duke of Cottesmere realises he has to act now, before the child is born. So, our story starts with Inver Castle under siege by a supposedly unknown force…

1

Chapter One

Your duty, John, no matter what else happens this night, is to ensure Colwyn reaches Ellesmere and the protection of the king.

But, your Grace—

Promise me, John!

I swear, on my vows as a knight and a loyal supporter of this family, that I will deliver her safely into the protection of King Stuart.

Thank you, my friend. Take whatever route necessary to get her there; she must not fall into the hands of Nigel McDowell. Our attackers bear no herald, but I suspect he is behind this evil plot. Duke Richard Coltrane lowered his voice to a mere whisper. We both know the situation, John. All I can say to you, my friend, is to thank you with all of my heart for your loyalty over the years. We’ve seen many a campaign together. It would have greatly honoured me to have you by my side now, but there is no one I trust more to take care of my daughter. Now, are you prepared for the journey?

Yes, Your Grace. The horses and supplies stand ready at the north-east exit, but I have grave reservations. Weather conditions are appalling—the mountain pass is blocked; we will have to cross the River Wyvern and travel along the High Hills, as I believe the low road will be under surveillance by McDowell’s men. It will take us almost three weeks to reach Ellesmere in these freezing conditions. Your Grace, with the current weather conditions, I will not return for four, even six weeks, whereas if we went to the east, to Strathmere, it would take half the time and—

The old Duke of Strathmere does not have the strength of numbers to assist; it is too small a Duchy, and he has seen the last of his fighting days. I know young Giles would help, but he is still to be knighted and he is not yet the duke.

Then let us try for Rossmere.

No, Duke Bodine is not in residence, but carrying out the King’s business far to the east. It must be Ellesmere. You must go now, John, before we are overrun.

Father? Colwyn lifted her riding skirt slightly and ran down the stairs towards them. Father, I can’t leave you... and what about Mother?

Daughter, you must leave. Your safety and well-being are of paramount importance to the stability of the Kingdom. Nigel McDowell wants you so he can claim this Duchy. Should he succeed, that will put a stranglehold on the Duchy of Rossmere and Duke Bodine will be facing a war on two borders, weakening the King’s position. Your mother is too far advanced with child to travel; we will hold out under siege until help arrives from Ellesmere. Go now, Colwyn. God bless you and keep you safe. And... if anything should happen, then turn to the King for guidance. Sir John, Coltrane turned his attention back to his Master-at-Arms. Take this and make sure it is delivered into the King’s hand personally. He handed him a sealed scroll, which MacKenzie placed inside his aketon.

Yes, Your Grace... He faltered, knowing with dreaded certainty that he would never see his Lord and Lady again; that these unmarked assailants would gain access to the castle, murder the duke, the duchess and the unborn child, and seize Colwyn to deliver her to McDowell, where she would be forcibly wed to the ambitious duke. The situation had been brewing for years, but the announcement that the Duchess Bronwyn was with child—a possible son and heir to Invermere—had, at last, he believed, spurred McDowell into action.

Bodine of Rossmere was the King’s closest friend, King’s Champion and General of his Armies. He was also the most feared man in the Kingdom, as he was a Kadeau with magical powers. It was said he could read minds and cast spells, although no one, apart from his closest friends and family, could say with certainty that they had actually ever seen him do any of these things. Without him, the Kingdom of Devonmere would be thrown into war. Even if Colwyn had liked McDowell, there would still have been no hope of a union between the two Duchies, for McDowell was rumoured to want to usurp King Stuart Cantrell. Obtaining Invermere would start him on his path. Colwyn, too, knew this. She hated the Cottesmere Lord and always did her utmost to avoid him at social functions. At home, when he visited, time after time, to request her hand in marriage, she feigned illness. Although McDowell was an attractive man physically, tall, dark-haired and brown-eyed, his aura and air made her exceedingly uneasy, for she sensed an evil within him.

Now the castle was under siege by an unknown enemy, but everything pointed to McDowell of Cottesmere.

Duke Richard Coltrane sensed MacKenzie’s turmoil and surrendered to the moment, hugging the ageing knight fiercely. My friend, take care of yourself, and my daughter. He released him and stepped back. Now go!

The Duchess Bronwyn, though heavily pregnant, still managed to walk with an air of grace. Her mahogany hair was plaited and pinned up; her hazel eyes almost sorrowful in her slightly heart-shaped face as she approached with Sarah, Colwyn’s handmaiden.

Mother! Colwyn threw herself into Bronwyn's arms.

Go, child; do as your father bids. Time is against us. Quickly now. She kissed her daughter's cheek. Remember all that you have been taught and know that whatever happens, we love you.

Colwyn, daughter. The duke opened his arms and she returned to him. Be brave; be resilient. You will need all your wits about you. Go now. He too kissed her cheek and pressed something into the palm of her hand before he released her and indicated for MacKenzie to take her.

Colwyn looked down and found herself staring at the duke’s ring—the seal of Invermere. Colwyn’s eyes widened in horror and she looked back at her father in anguish. His handing to her of the ring meant only one thing; that he assumed he was to die. She stared at him as if to ingrain the memory of his features in her mind. His short brown hair, greying slightly at the temples; his kind, brown eyes, in a ruggedly handsome, square-jawed, clean-shaven face; the regal air. He may have given the impression of being almost easy-going, but he had seen many a battle with the young king’s father and—to a lesser extent—with the younger King Stuart, and was one of the most trusted dukes in Devonmere.

Richard gave her that look, the one that indicated for her to behave as a Duchess, to hold her head high; be proud and show no emotion. Colwyn nodded imperceptibly, swallowed slowly and took a deep breath to regain her composure.

Sarah placed a warm, hooded black woollen cloak around her shoulders, fastening it as her lady stood, numb with the nightmare that was unfolding all around her.

The sounds of battle were growing ever nearer and at last, MacKenzie, began to move, taking Colwyn’s elbow. Come, my Lady, he urged and began to lead her towards the library and the secret passage, with Sarah following on their heels, carrying two oilskin saddle bags, that contained a change of clothing.

Colwyn still hoped that it would all turn out to be some terrible nightmare, but it was not so. She knew, as they crept from the castle via the secret exit with their small escort, that unless help arrived soon, all would be lost and it was this thought that kept her going. They had to reach Ellesmere! The Rossmere capital of Belvoir was closer, but with Bodine away on the far side of the Kingdom, help from that quarter was out of the question.

They were travelling light, with saddlebags containing clothing and one pack horse carrying food and supplies for twenty days. MacKenzie had decided to head for the cover of the woods and then turn north to the River Wyvern. The route was a hard one; trying on both man, woman and beast. The temperature was far below freezing and driving snow was falling, nearly blinding them. The only consolation was that the amount of snow falling was likely to cover their tracks within an hour.

He knew Colwyn was strong; he had seen to that. As a child, much to her father’s horror, she had joined the young pages in the Pell who were training for knighthood. Yet Colwyn had enjoyed it so much that MacKenzie had continued to teach her in secret. She was a quick learner, graceful, supple and wielded a sword as well as any young squire of similar age. He had strapped her sword to her saddle, so it was close at hand, should she have need of it.

She was alone now and MacKenzie knew she had to be strong in both mind and body if she were to serve her people in a fair and just way. The Duke and Duchess of Invermere had been remarkable people. As the only heir, they had ensured that Colwyn had been taught to read and write and been given schooling in mathematics and in politics, sitting with her father when he held court. In her thirst for knowledge, Colwyn had even gone out to the people to learn about them, of their needs and way of life and about the land and its care. On the gentle side associated with her sex, her mother had taught her the needlework skills long-associated with Invermere and Colwyn, in turn, had taught her people, holding classes for gifted childrenremarkable achievements considering she had not long turned sixteen.

In return, the people loved her. Something about her made them warm to her, but no one knew why. Perhaps it was purely her genuine concern for those around her and her willingness to help. Those who attempted to take advantage of her only tried the once. The red chestnut hair was a warning that Colwyn also possessed a fiery temper and a sharp tongue. It did not surface very often, but when it did, those who had displeased her were left in no doubt of their mistake.

MacKenzie smiled to himself, thinking back to how she had given the heir of Strathmere, the young Squire Giles Dernley, the sword-fight of his life because he had made an un-knightly remark about ‘girls and swords’. From that moment on, that young squire had been devoted to her, much to her embarrassment.

Now he was here, in the special escort, attentive to her every need; keeping his horse close to hers in case of danger. If all went well, Giles Dernley would be knighted in June by King Stuart.

With the appalling weather conditions, it took the best part of two days to travel through the woods. They had taken the smaller, less-used track, rather than the road. The wood was thicker on this route, which actually made it more difficult to ambush anyone, because of the closeness of the trees and the dense, heavy undergrowth of dead leaves, twigs and other decaying matter, currently frozen in the cold conditions, but there was also less light to see by, despite the lack of foliage on the trees, which leant an ominous and menacing gloom to their surroundings. They travelled for five hours at a time, resting for one and then were permitted a rest for three hours in the thickest part, where the trees had offered some semblance of shelter from the driving wind and snow, but it was cold, wet and miserable, with no fire to even provide an illusion of warmth. MacKenzie did not want to stay in one place for too long in case they were being pursued and also to prevent lethargy from setting in because of the freezing conditions. He looked around at the group. Sarah was sitting huddled with Colwyn, and Dernley was hovering close by. He had wrapped a blanket around both of them to help keep them sheltered. Four knights were standing guard and the other four were attempting to get some rest.

The next stage of the journey would be one of the most dangerous—the crossing of the River Wyvern. Most of the year, the river was wide but shallow. MacKenzie was hoping that the low temperatures would mean any excess water would be frozen in the High Hills and mountains beyond, and the level would still be relatively low, but it had been a long, wet winter. They would have to wait until they got there to see what the situation was. So, they had set off again in their pattern of travel.

Finally emerging from the thinning trees of the woods, they battled through the deep snow, eventually re-joining the main thoroughfare and moved north, towards the river. On either side of the road, there were open fields bordered by high bushes, which effectively marked the route. The snow had been blown into drifts against the bushes resulting in it only being about a foot deep on the trail, but several feet deep where it had been swept against the vegetation. It was eerily quiet; wildlife was sheltering below ground or deep within the woods, and the usual smells of the trees and fields were strangely absent. Even though the snow seemed to deaden any noise, the sound of a flowing river gradually became louder as they approached it, and finally, they reached the banks of the Wyvern. MacKenzie sat astride his horse, contemplating the scene before him. The level was higher than he would have liked and the water was flowing fast.

What do you think, Sir John? Dernley asked him.

MacKenzie sighed before answering. It’s higher than I expected, but we have no choice. McDowell must be following; he probably also has some men ahead.

Won’t he think we’ll go by the Low Road? That has more shelter. Surely, he wouldn’t think we’d take the High Hills, because of the women.

That’s what I’m hoping; plus, this snow has covered our earlier tracks, but we can’t be certain of anything, especially anything to do with Nigel McDowell. We can’t go further east to cross; the river banks will be too steep for the horses, especially in this weather, and we can’t go west to the shallow crossing as it’s too close to where the Cottesmere army may be. He indicated for the first two guards to attempt the crossing. If they made it, then they would all follow.

Nerves were taut as the two knights encouraged their horses to enter. Ears pricked, the destriers stepped uneasily into the freezing water. Their heads jerked up at the cold, but they were well trained and slowly continued. They stumbled a number of times due to the unevenness of the rocky bottom beneath their hooves but never lost their footing, and, minutes later, they were heaving themselves up the opposite bank.

That was good enough for MacKenzie. Take it slowly; the current is fast and footing for the horses uneven. He looked at the women, suddenly wishing he’d made them dress differently; perhaps even disguised them in men’s clothing; concerned their dresses could hamper them during the crossing, as the water level was higher than he’d anticipated. The two palfreys they were riding were smaller and much lighter in build than the knights’ stallions and were likely to have problems, what with the water currently being the depth it was, so he made the decision to sandwich each of them between two knights, with another knight taking the lead and another bringing up the rear. Instructions issued, the first knight led the way with Colwyn and her two knights following.

Colwyn gasped in shock as the freezing water touched her booted feet and crept up her legs. She had never encountered anything so cold and found herself unable to control her shivering. Within a minute, she had lost all feeling in her legs.

Dernley glanced at her, concerned. A woman of gentle breeding should not have to suffer so—and they had at least ten more days of this journey to endure.

Behind her, Sarah’s horse panicked and leapt forward, catching the knight’s horse in front, which, in turn, leapt forward, barging into Colwyn’s mount. The palfrey stumbled and lost its balance. Wildly, it thrashed around trying to regain its footing whilst Colwyn grimly hung on as tightly as she could, gasping as the freezing water totally drenched her.

My Lady! Sarah screamed as she watched both horse and rider disappear for a moment or two before the palfrey struggled up again.

Dernley reached out and managed to grab Colwyn round the waist and pull her off the frightened horse. Grimly, he held her tightly against him as he urged his mount forward, reaching the other side. He continued up the bank to safe ground where the first two knights were waiting. One quickly dismounted and took Colwyn from him, holding her as her numb limbs refused to support her. Behind them, the remaining riders reached shallow water and Colwyn’s horse finally regained its footing and trotted up the bank.

My Lady? Dernley asked in a worried tone, dismounting. Colwyn was soaked to the skin and shivering violently.

I-I’m al-all r-right, Giles, she stammered and gave him a feeble smile which was gone in an instant as her shivering took over. I-I just c-can’t feel m-my legs, they’re s-so c-cold. I’ll b-be all right in a m-minute.

We need to find shelter, to get you warm, he stated.

T-there’s n-no t-time; w-we must c-continue.

No. We must at least get you dry; in this chilling wind you will freeze to death, he insisted.

Colwyn shook her head. J-just help me mount my horse, she said firmly. Sarah, she turned her head to look at her handmaiden. Are you a-all right?

Y-yes, my Lady.

Then we shall keep going. Sir J-John, she called, l-lead on.

MacKenzie admired her spirit but Dernley was right; they had to find shelter, so he despatched two knights ahead to see what they could find; a barn, a cottage; anything.

In the meantime, he indicated for four other knights to use their blankets to create a screen around her so that Sarah could assist her to change her clothes. The knights stood, arms outstretched, backs turned inwards to form a square. Sarah quickly obtained a change of clothes and within the screened-off square, assisted Colwyn to change. It was a difficult task because the clothes were so wet and beginning to freeze on her body, but eventually, the task was done. Dernley assisted Colwyn to remount her horse. A thick blanket was wrapped around her in an attempt to keep the chill wind at bay before they set off at a brisk pace to get the horses warm again. They were their most important asset and had to be cared for. Without them, they would all surely die.

They made reasonable headway for the next few hours. Their next obstacle would be the narrow pass at the High Hills, approximately a day or so ahead. It was the perfect place for an ambush, for it consisted of a sheer cliff on one side, a ledge, just wide enough for wagons to pass one another, and a sheer drop down to the River Elles below, which, at this time of year, if it wasn’t frozen, would be a raging torrent with small cascades and rocky outcrops, and MacKenzie was very uneasy. He wanted to get through there as soon as possible.

The two knights returned just before nightfall and reported no sign of any habitat. MacKenzie was worried about his charge. Yes, they had all received a soaking crossing the river, but the men were used to such hardships. Women were not. He sat quietly on his destrier, frowning hard, deep in thought. Everyone watched as he tapped his gloved fist against his chin as if trying to loosen a memory deep within his mind. He was sure there was some form of shelter… and then, he remembered. His eyes suddenly lit up and they knew he had thought of something. The caves! On the other side of the narrow pass at the base of the High Hills. They could take shelter in the caves and even light a fire.

With renewed spirits, he urged them on through the night at a brisk walk. The horses could keep going for hours at this speed and it would be dangerous to attempt a faster gait. Overnight, they walked for six hours and stopped for one before journeying on again.

As the sun rose on the fifth day of their journey, MacKenzie could not help but notice the depression surrounding him. Warmth and hot food would do wonders for their spirits. The snow had stopped falling and the wind had died, making it feel a little warmer, but everyone knew it was still very, very cold. With the improved visibility, he stepped up the pace a little, wanting to get through the pass and to the caves before nightfall.

The sheer walls on either side of the pass caused an echoing effect, making it sound as if there was a large army travelling through it, with the sound of the hooves and the jangle of metal of armour and the horses’ livery. The rear guard kept glancing behind them, just to make sure there was nothing following them, and they also kept looking up at the cliffs, constantly on the lookout for heavy overhanging snow; nervous that the noise could trigger an avalanche.

A few hours passed when suddenly, the sound of many hoofbeats approaching brought them to a halt. Everyone glanced back and saw a group of knights heading towards them, swords drawn.

Women to the back! MacKenzie ordered as the escort whirled as one, drew their weapons and stood ready. The battle was brief but vicious; the small group had been outnumbered three to one, but fortunately, most of Colwyn’s guard were hardened veterans of war, with plenty of experience. Two of her knights were cut down in the ensuing battle. One had been slain and fallen from his horse to slither down the steep bank into the raging river below; the other lay against the steep cliff, dead, where he had fallen. It had been a close call, but what had won them the battle was Colwyn unsheathing the sword strapped to her saddle and killing one of the un-heralded attackers who had attempted to grab her horse’s reins and make a run for it.

Calmly, she had cleaned the sword and re-sheathed it whilst her maid and the majority of the remaining escort looked at her in a mixture of amazement, disbelief and horror. Dernley looked at her in awe. Practising in the Pell did not prepare anyone—especially a woman—for the act of actually killing someone. MacKenzie was proud of her, for she had proved herself in battle, but he knew the realisation of what she had done would hit her hard. Consequently, he drove them on through the pass towards the relative safety of the caves.

The knights silently mourned the death of their fallen comrades; there had been no time to bury them; the threat of another attack was too high. Weather permitting, they would recover one body and search for the other when the current risk was past and Colwyn had been safely delivered to the King at Ellesmere.

They continued to pick their way carefully along the narrow pass, struggling through the occasional deeper drift of snow, their progress slow.

Night was falling when they arrived at their destination, every single one of them, tired, weary to the bone and thoroughly miserable. The caves went deep into a high limestone escarpment, and there were several entrances of different sizes, most of which were obscured by trees, bushes and other greenery during the summer, but at this time of year, with no leaves, they were reasonably visible. One of the entrances was large enough to get the horses through, so MacKenzie led the way on foot, leading his mount. Dernley followed, still mounted, ducking his head to avoid the low roof, leading Colwyn’s mount. One by one, the others followed. The passageway led to a large higher-roofed chamber, large enough to accommodate them all, and they stood here, looking around, standing in near darkness.

The caves smelt damp but they were infinitely better than being exposed to the elements outside, especially on a bitter winter night.

Using flint and some fine grass that had been safely wrapped in oiled skin to keep it dry, MacKenzie lit a fire. A couple of the guards quickly scanned the entrance to the cave looking for suitable kindling and returned with a few meagre pieces of wood that would at least tease the fire into a small blaze and keep it going until they gathered more.

In the subdued light, it could be seen that a number of passages led off from the chamber they were in. Making torches from some wood and strips of cloth, the knights explored the immediate passages. One led to a chamber large enough to put the horses in, and Dernley found a smaller one the women could use as a private enclosure.

Quickly, he grabbed a blanket from his saddle, went into the smaller cave and spread it out on the floor, then he went back to the main chamber and assisted Colwyn from her horse. She was very quiet and listless and he was worried, fearful that she may have caught a chill. Sitting her down on the blanket, he rounded up another couple and placed them around her, before assisting Sarah down, bidding her join her Lady to keep each other warm.

Leaving them to the privacy of their little alcove, he set about finding more wood to get a good fire going so that the women could be warmed and they could all, at last, have something hot to eat.

MacKenzie supervised the escort, organising them into settling the horses down, collecting more wood and preparing food. They melted snow in a small container over the fire and added some salted meat, spices and potatoes, and let that boil until it was piping hot.

The smell of the spiced meal wafted through to the small alcove and Sarah left her mistress to find out if it was ready. Seeing one of the escort placing food on small plates, she quickly returned to Colwyn and bade her come through, but Colwyn shook her head and huddled further into the blankets.

Worried, Sarah returned to speak to MacKenzie. He stopped what he was doing immediately and went to the alcove. Moments later, he returned with Colwyn in his arms and placed her down near the roaring fire, hoping the heat would revive her. He motioned to Dernley to bring a plate of food and instructed the young squire that he was to force-feed his charge if she refused to eat anything.

Dernley immediately sat down by her side and whispered to her, Please, my Lady, you must eat something to keep your strength and to help fight off any illness.

I can’t eat anything, Giles. I have no appetite.

I will be in grave trouble if you do not eat something, the young squire pleaded. Sir John is threatening me with all sorts. Surely you wouldn’t want anything horrible to happen to me, after all the years we have known each other. Since you were the little girl who gave me the fight of my life?

She smiled at him then, noting his light brown hair was once again falling over his forehead, now it was free of the coif. You insulted me, sir.

I did not! I simply said it was no place for a girl, he retorted, his brown eyes twinkling; his full lips forming a slight smile.

I lost my temper then, didn’t I?

Most certainly. You know, Sir John didn’t scold me at all; he was too proud seeing that his secret pupil was doing so well.

Father was furious when he found out.

I know; we heard his voice from the other side of the castle, Giles joked. But that didn’t stop you from carrying on, though, did it?

H-how did you know? Colwyn gasped.

The way you wielded that sword earlier. You would have been far too out of practice to have fended off that fiend. Sir John is very proud; you have proved yourself in battle and worthy to wear the sword.

To kill is against God’s law.

But the knight is sworn to uphold good and defeat evil on behalf of the Lord and his King. To defend the weak and be righteous in all things. You defeated evil this day; a noble act. Now, eat this; it will help warm you.

Dernley’s words had eased her mind a little, and gallantly, she did as he asked, finding that it did in fact make her feel warmer and a lot better.

I will light another fire in the alcove so you may have warmth and privacy this night. If you wish it, I shall stand guard over you, Dernley stated after she had finished her meal.

The fire would be most welcome, but you will not stand guard, Giles Dernley. You will get some sleep, and that is my command.

He grinned boyishly at her as he rose to carry out his task, taking a burning branch from the existing fire to start the other. Colwyn knew that he cared a great deal for her; perhaps even loved her, but to her, he could be no more than the brother she had longed for and now, with the probable death of her parents, would never have.

Her heart suddenly grew very heavy and she felt the need for some privacy. Rising, she went to the alcove to see how the young squire had fared. The fire was burning brightly and would soon be hot enough to start heating the area. Quietly she thanked him and bade him join his companions. Sarah appeared, but Colwyn motioned her away. Only in private would she shed tears and allow some grief to come through.

In the end, she cried herself to sleep and was not aware when Sarah returned to check on her mistress. She saw the moistness on her Lady’s cheeks and felt her own eyes suddenly start to sting with tears. She quickly retrieved Colwyn’s wet clothes from the saddle bag and lay them out near the fire, hoping it would help them dry overnight. Task done, she quietly lay down beside her mistress and snuggled close to share body warmth.

The following morning, a little before dawn, Dernley crept into the alcove to awaken the women, but found Sarah already awake and gathering their few belongings together. Kneeling down beside Colwyn, he noticed her flushed features and the rasping sound of her breathing. He gently laid a hand on her forehead and was shocked by the heat that he felt there.

The coolness of his hand woke Colwyn, but she could barely open her eyes.

My Lady is ill, he told her softly.

Gallantly, Colwyn pulled herself together, feigning cheerfulness. Nonsense, I’m just tired, like everyone else. Are we preparing to leave?

Colwyn, Dernley insisted, not caring that he was not addressing her as etiquette dictated.

I am fine, Giles, just give me a few moments. Her tone was firm—albeit a little shaky. You will say nothing to anyone, is that clear?

Dernley nodded slowly as she leant back and allowed her eyes to close again, but he had no intention of following her wishes. They were about to embark on the trail through the High Hills. This was their last chance to make a change of direction to another destination. If Colwyn collapsed up in the High Hills, she would surely die. Making a decision, he nodded to her and left her and Sarah to prepare for the journey. In the main cavern, he cornered John MacKenzie.

Sir John, I am gravely concerned about Colwyn. She is seriously ill and I fear she will not survive the journey to Ellesmere. We need to find a closer safe haven.

When I last spoke to our Lady, she insisted she could go on.

‘Tis but an act, Sir John. Go see for yourself, whilst she is in an unguarded moment.

MacKenzie knew that Giles was very protective towards the young Duchess, but he also knew he possessed great integrity, despite his youthful years. Quietly, he approached the two women. Sarah did not look too well herself, but it was Colwyn who suddenly gave him grave concern.

She was obviously suffering from a fever for her features were flushed and she was shivering. Seeing her in such an unguarded moment, MacKenzie realised that she had managed to successfully deceive him for the past few days, for it was now clear that she was extremely ill and needed urgent medical attention.

He knelt down by her side and placed a hand on her forehead. The heat she was generating alarmed him.

Colwyn opened her eyes and looked up at him.

Sir John? she asked breathlessly, her eyes sparkling far too brightly.

My Lady, why did you not tell me you were unwell?

I-I’m fine, Sir John, just very tired.

"No, Colwyn, you are