Page 99 of The Darkland

Spencer watched her lowered head. She had her sister’s nose and soft shape of the face, but her behavior was far more agreeable and sweet.

“I am sure you would have bested Johanne somehow,” he said, thinking on what had happened two days before. It had been a freakish and shocking happening, but he pushed it aside for the moment. There were more pleasant things to speak to Lady Micheline about. “Now that youhave inherited Anchorsholme from your husband, have you thought about what you intend to do with it?”

Micheline’s head came up and she cocked it thoughtfully. “I… I am not sure,” she said. “Live there, I suppose. To tell you the truth, I am still rather stunned about what happened. It is difficult to comprehend that both Edmund and Johanne are dead.”

The glimmer faded from Spencer’s eye. He grew serious. “Not soon enough,” he said. “Surely you knew of the rumors of the Darkland, my lady. Everyone in these parts knew of them.”

Micheline tried not to look too contrite. “I will confess that I had not heard,” she admitted. “My father pledged me to marry Edmund in payment for a debt owed to Edmund’s father, Monroe. If my father knew of the rumors, he never told me. I only learned of them after I came to Anchorsholme.”

Spencer lifted his eyebrows in understanding. “Now that you know of them, surely you know what a blessing Edmund and Johanne’s passing is.”

“I am coming to.”

He smiled confidently. “Anchorsholme will be an inviting and pleasant place once again under your hand,” he said. “I am sure of it.”

Micheline was fortified by his kind words, blushing beneath the moonlight. He seemed like such a kind man; she was coming to like him a great deal. “I hope so, my lord. I will do my best.”

Spencer didn’t say anymore to her after that as they approached the massive walls of Quernmore. It was growing cold and very dark by the time they came upon the great gatehouse with its massive smoking torches, smelling of animal fat. Spencer announced the party to the sentries, who ordered the gates opened. Chains clanked and groaned as the big woodened panels slowly swung open.

They were greeted inside the gatehouse by a few soldiers and a senior sergeant. Spencer wearily climbed off his charger, handing the reins to one of the soldiers and moving to assist Micheline. She was light and slender, sliding easily into his big arms.

“Where is Lord Lionel?” Spencer asked.

“In the keep, my lord,” the sergeant replied. “He is attending his bride.”

Spencer had just lowered Micheline to the ground but he froze, his hands still on her waist as he looked at the soldier. “They arealreadymarried?”

The sergeant shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he replied, unaware that the woman in Spencer’s grip was the sister of the reluctant bride. “It would seem that his intended has barricaded herself in a room and they are trying to get her out. A priest is waiting for them in the hall once they manage to purge her from the chamber.”

Micheline gasped and Spencer glanced at her with concern. Without another word to the gaggle of soldiers, he took Micheline by the hand and began walking, very swiftly, towards the keep. Wanda and Valdine slithered off their palfreys and followed, clutching each other and terrified of all the strange men and the strange surroundings.

Quernmore’s keep was a big, square and squat building, four stories including the lower ground floor storage level. It was massive. Micheline skipped after Spencer, hardly able to take the time to view her surroundings as he pulled her through the keep entry and up a rather large flight of spiral stairs that was built into the thickness of the wall. Once they reached the top level, he pulled her down a narrow, arched corridor, ducking his head to avoid the iron wall sconces and their smoking torches.

Almost immediately, they could hear voices and what sounded like a chopping axe echoing in the tight quarters of the passageway. Men were speaking, sometimes barking, and Spencer could hear Lionel’s agitated tone. Turning a corner, they could see the situation of a torn-up door and several soldiers trying to break it down.

“My lord,” Spencer said as he swiftly approached. “What goes on here?”

Lionel looked surprised to see Spencer. But just as swiftly, his attention was drawn to Micheline in Spencer’s grip and the identical women hovering fearfully behind her. His gaze lingered on the women for a moment before he refocused on Spencer.

“Nothing a few dozen soldiers and three months of hard labor will not see resolved,” he said, rather exhaustedly. “I did not hear the sentries. When did you arrive?”

“Just now,” Spencer told him, still eyeing the door. “What has happened?”

Lionel slumped against the wall as he, too, eyed the door. “The Lady Mara has barricaded herself and we are attempting to free her,” he replied. His attention was drawn to Micheline. “Who is your lovely escort, Spencer?”

Spencer looked at Micheline. “My lord, allow me to introduce you to the Lady Micheline de Cleveley,” he said, returning his attention to Lionel with a lift of the eyebrows. “Lady Micheline is the Lady Mara’s sister.”

Lionel’s eyes widened. He focused on Micheline. “Lady Mara’s sis…?” He couldn’t even finish. He pushed himself off the wall and grasped Micheline by the arm. “You are Mara’ssister?”

Micheline was rather intimidated by the man with the bushy dark eyebrows. “Aye, my lord.”

Lionel’s hope was renewed. “Perhaps she will open the door for you!”

Micheline knew that wouldn’t happen; but, then again, perhaps Mara might. The sisters had been separated for a few weeks, more separation than they had ever experienced in their lives. Perhaps Mara would be glad enough to see her sister to forget her stand-off and open the door.

“Perhaps,” Micheline nodded, eyeing the soldiers trying to twist the door off its hinges. “But you must send your men away. She will never open the door if she feels threatened.”

Lionel began waving his hands at the soldiers. “Cease!” he hissed. “Drop what you are doing and leave at once.Go!”