Page 74

Edenside

I t wasn’t what she had expected.

In truth, Maitland wasn’t sure what to expect, but the dilapidated tower and outbuildings hadn’t been among any of her hopes.

It was worse than she could have imagined.

Edenside had been a fortified pele tower complex once, built with the gray granite stones so prevalent to the area.

There was a two-storied tower, overgrown with weeds and moss, and two long outbuildings, single-storied, with roofs of sod that were badly in need of replacement.

The entire fortress looked old, worn, and crushed.

Stepping into the walled bailey, there was only a pair of dilapidated gates to keep those inside safe, gates that a child could have kicked down.

In fact, as Maitland and Thomas and Desmond entered the bailey, which was covered with grass and weeds, Thomas had a couple of his men take immediate notice of the gates to see what they could do about making them more secure.

If Thomas was feeling disillusioned and a little apprehensive of the place, he couldn’t even imagine what Maitland was feeling.

The whole thing seemed deserted. No sounds of children, no signs of life.

As Maitland and Tibelda left their fat palfreys just inside the wall, over near the gates, Tibelda went towards the yard to the east of the outbuildings to look for children while Maitland made her way towards the two-storied tower, hoping to find someone there who could tell her where her charges were.

The tower, in fact, was rather large. In its prime, it must have been a mighty sight, indeed. It looked as if it could hold thirty people simply by the sheer size of it. It could certainly hold twenty children, as there had been at one time.

But now, it appeared dark and vacant.

“Halt!”

A shout came from off to her left and she immediately stopped, turning to see a skinny, ill-dressed boy standing in the doorway of one of the long outbuildings.

He was barefoot, filthy, and very cold, with blue lips and pale skin.

But he had a big stick with him and he came towards her, wielding it menacingly.

“Who are ye?” he demanded. “Why have ye come?”

Maitland remained calm, feeling Thomas come up beside her. She knew he was armed, and heavily so, but she held out a hand to him, silently telling him not to draw his weapon.

“My name is Lady Bowlin,” she said calmly. “I am the new guardian of Edenside. Who are you?”

The child frowned at her. “New guardian?” he repeated. “We dunna need a guardian. Go away!”

Maitland shook her head. “I will not go away,” she said. “I have been sent by Kelso Abbey. I am to be in charge now and I promise it will be much different from the way it was before. Where are the other children?”

“I’ll not tell ye!”

“Can you at least tell me your name? You know mine. What is yours?”

The boy hesitated a brief moment. “My name is Artus but they call me Wrath,” he informed her. Then, he lifted the big stick. “Make another move and ye’ll feel it!”

Beside Maitland, Thomas growled. “And you’ll feel mine, you little…”

Maitland shushed him, keeping her gaze on the child.

“Artus, thank you for telling me your name,” she said steadily.

“But I am in charge now and you will lower that stick. I am no threat and neither are these knights. They come as friends, I assure you. Now, where are the children, please? You will tell them to come out. There is no longer any reason to hide, I promise.”

Artus wasn’t so certain. He didn’t drop the stick, but he didn’t charge her, either.

He seemed to be debating what she’d told him and, from what Maitland had been told of this place, she had to admit that she really didn’t blame him.

God only knew what that child had gone through and how he’d had to defend himself.

She stood still as the child came near, walking a circle around both her and Thomas, inspecting them very closely.

“We dunna need ye,” he finally said, holding the stick up for emphasis. “Queenie has taken good care of us.”

“Who is Queenie?” Maitland asked.

The child suddenly darted off, disappearing into the long building before emerging a short time later with a tiny, round, and fairly old woman who was weaving all over the place. The woman couldn’t seem to stand on her own and she leaned heavily against the boy as he pointed to her insistently.

“This is Queenie,” he said. “She can take care of us. You go away!”

Frowning with concern, Maitland glanced at Thomas, who lifted his eyebrows dubiously.

Trying to assess the situation, Maitland took a few steps towards the child and the seemingly sick old woman.

Thomas followed along closely, unwilling to let her get too close to that child with the big stick if he could help it.

“Queenie?” Maitland said to the old woman. “Queenie, my name is Lady Bowlin. Are you ill?”

The old woman looked up at her, her eyes glazed over as if she was simply exhausted or terribly ill.

It was difficult to tell. Her gray hair was like a bird’s nest on her head and her jowls quivered as she lifted her head.

When she opened her mouth, she belched so loudly that it startled the birds roosting on the sod house.

As the birds scattered, both Maitland and Thomas caught a whiff of her breath.

Ale.

“Oh!” Maitland’s head snapped back and she put her hand over her nose. “God’s Bones, the woman is drunk!”

Artus simply lifted the stick as if to beat her for slandering the old woman. As Thomas stepped forward to snatch the child and shake the defiance right out of him, Maitland grabbed hold of Thomas and turned him around, pulling him with her as she walked several feet away.

“Thomas, we must be compassionate about this,” she said, her voice low. “Scaring that child and old woman will not help. We must realize what has driven them to this point. From what your mother told me, life has been terrible for them, indeed. I do not blame them for not trusting us.”

Thomas growled. “That lad needs a hand across his backside.”

But Maitland shook her head, her hand on his big arm. “That will not help the situation,” she said. Then, she eyed the provisions on the horses and an idea came to her. “I think I know what to do.”

“Beat him until he screams?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Nay,” she said firmly. “Be serious. I meant the pork side that we brought… have your men build a fire and put it on a spit. Let’s cook it. Mayhap the sight and smell of a decent meal will bring these children out. You know what they say– earn trust with a full belly.”

He was looking at her, a rather amused expression on his face. “Is that what they say?”

She nodded seriously, struggling to keep the smile off her face. “That is exactly what they say.”

“What idiot goes around speaking words like that?”

“Me.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “My apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to call you an idiot.”

She grinned at him, pointing to the provisions. “You may apologize by starting to cook that side of pork. Go and tell Tibelda what we are doing and she will help.”

With a lingering glance at her, and a lingering grin, Thomas moved back to the horses and began to quietly issue orders to his men.

Then, he made his way over to Tibelda, who was still rooted to the spot where she’d come to a halt when Artus had first appeared.

He muttered something to the woman, who nodded faintly.

As everyone began to move, Desmond came to stand next to his sister, surveying all that was before him.

“I do not think this is the happy reception you were expecting,” he said.

Maitland turned to look at the drunk old woman and the boy standing next to her, still bearing the stick. “As I told Thomas, from what they have been through, I do not blame them for being suspicious.”

Desmond nodded faintly before turning to her. “Speaking of suspicious,” he said, his voice low. “Mae, you know I would never intrude in your affairs, but you must not think of Thomas as anything more than what he is.”

She looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Desmond sighed heavily, turning his head to see Thomas directing the men to remove the pork from the back of one of the horses. “Just that,” he said quietly. “He seems quite attentive to you but, believe me, he is not someone you wish to become mixed up with.”

Maitland tried to remain as neutral as possible. “I do not intend to become ‘mixed up’ with anyone,” she said. “He has been kind to me and nothing more. Where did you get such an idea, Des?”

Desmond lifted his eyebrows. “I know Thomas de Wolfe,” he said.

“He has more troubles than you will ever know. He is the best knight I have ever seen, an outstanding commander, and treats his men well. There is no finer warrior on the borders. But he has also been known to drink and gamble, and I cannot count all of the women he has taken to his bed. Now, he is betrothed to that… that meat poppet, Adelaide, so do not think to enter into any kind of clandestine relationship with him. It would only end badly for you.”

By this time, Maitland was feeling ashamed and defensive. “I have no intention of entering into anything clandestine, Desmond,” she said. “And I do not like you calling a woman a meat poppet, no matter how poorly behaved she is. That is a terrible thing to call any woman. Do you understand me?”

Desmond put up his hands. “I do not want to fight with you,” he said. “I simply want to protect you. Do not believe Thomas has any altruistic intentions, and that he will break his betrothal with Adelaide to marry you, because it will not happen.”

Hurt, and feeling confused, Maitland sighed sharply and turned away from her brother. “No one has said anything about marriage,” she said. “Thomas and I have agreed to be friendly with one another and nothing more. Satisfied?”

Desmond looked at her suspiciously. “Then he brought it up? He asked you to do something unsavory?”