Page 71 of The Darkland

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Micheline had spentan entire day and night in the small, dingy little tower room, peering from the skinny lancet window that emitted light and air into the room and wondering what on earth was going to happen to her. Now, as dawn broke, she was terrified, hungry, and cold. It would seem the curse of The Darkland was infecting her as well.

Thank God Mara is away, was all she could think. Stoic in her fate, she comforted herself by knowing that Mara was safe with Kirk, far away from the hellish walls of Anchorsholme.

The chamber had become her tomb, both comforting and terrifying. Huddled against the wall beneath the lancet window, she could hear the activity below as the people began to go about their day. She wondered when, or if, Sir Corwin would return with something to eat or perhaps something to stay warm with. She had nearly frozen during the night as the tomb turned to ice in the cold temperatures. The walls bore no warmth. She had felt as if she was in a grave.

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With the cold and the fear came the reflection of her actions. Perhaps she should not have confronted Edmund and Johanne as she had. Perhaps she simply should have accepted things as they were. At least she would have been safe, but the cost would have been her self-respect and, in a manner, her very soul.

She cringed every time she thought of the pair, trying not to think of them, now wondering what her destiny would be. Would Corwin tell Kirk what had become of her when the man returned from Quernmore? If he did, Kirk surely would tell Mara, and her sister was not very good at keeping her mouth shut. She might even go after Edmund and Johanne for what they did and… Micheline shuddered. The situation might go from bad to worse.

As Micheline sat in the corner and chewed her nails, the door rattled. She jumped, terrified, her gaze on the door and positive that Edmund was about to come charging through with a dagger in his hand. She could hear the old bolt being thrown and she stumbled to her feet, preparing to defend herself. As the door swung open, she shrieked, but two familiar faces shushed her harshly.

“My lady!” Lady Valdine hissed, holding up her hands for silence. “You must not…

“…make a sound lest Lord Edmund…”

“… hear you!”

Wanda shut the door swiftly as the two rushed into the room. Micheline was so startled, and so relieved, that she ended up stumbling back against the wall and sliding to her buttocks. The women had bundles in their arms and immediately went to Micheline as she cowered against the wall.

“My husband told me what happened,” Valdine said. “Are you…”

“… injured, my lady?”

Micheline shook her head as Wanda knelt on her other side. “I am not injured,” she said. “But I am cold and hungry.”

Valdine nodded as she pulled out a sack from amongst all of the items she had brought. “We have brought you food,” she said. “We have also…”

“…brought fresh clothing and water with which to bathe. Do you feel strong enough?”

Micheline accepted a hunk of brown bread from Valdine and tore into it, starving. “What of Corwin? Where is he?”

Valdine looked rather somber and because she dampened, so did her sister. “There is great trouble in de Cleveley’s Irish lands,” she said. “My husband…”

“…has taken an army and gone to meet…”

“…Sir Kirk on the docks of Fleetwood. They leave…”