At Arms Read online

“Papa, please I beg you.”

  His face got redder and his nose flared. “Stop calling me papa, call me by my title and name. And be gone now.”

  She bit her lower lip to keep her mouth sealed and her tongue from lashing out and making her regret it later. She curtsied and said, “Sorry, my lord.”

  Lord Robert slammed the door shut without a goodbye. Holding in her tears she ran for Lyna‘s room, but halfway she hesitated and turned back to her own. She threw herself on her bed and cried. For a long while she stayed with her face buried in her cushions, soaking them with her tears, and then with a start she sat up at the sound of nearing footsteps. From the hallway someone approached her door. She jumped up, ran to the wooden bathing tub, wet her face, and washed the tears away. She quickly dried her face and straightened her dress. It was probably Lyna wondering where she‘d been. She smiled the warmest smile she could muster and waited for the knock to come, but instead the door was pushed open. Her smile faltered. In came barging the young knight, Eadric, Lyna‘s suitor.

  He was tall, normal build, with shoulder-length blond hair and a strong jaw, which was the only redeeming quality to his plain face. He had a cruel smile planted on his lips, one he always hid from Lyna but liked to show to those he thought didn‘t matter. What does Lyna see in him? she thought. Lyna deserved a just man, a man that could call himself a hero, and not this two-faced excuse of a man standing in front of her. Inadvertently she pictured the young farmer, a man chiseled for greatness but marred by birth. She thought how he carried himself with an air of virtue despite his low station in life. Christine couldn‘t help to smile while thinking about the farmhand who she wished was a knight instead of a farmer.

  “You seem happier than usual,” Eadric said. “Must be my sudden presence that has lightened your heart.”

  He walked up to her and got a little too close; she backed away from him while her smile faltered. “What‘s the meaning of this? My father, your lord, will not approve of you coming into my room uninvited. Please leave right now.”

  He flashed his cruel smile and backed away from her while raising his palms toward her. “Ease down. I‘m just looking for Lyna, your dear sister and my dearest beloved.”

  “I haven‘t seen her this morning. Maybe she‘s in her room. Now go before I tell Lord Robert about this.”

  Eadric laughed. “Go ahead, go tell him. It‘s not like he cares for you or Lyna. She told me so herself, and I noticed he loves his knights better than the both of you.”

  Eadric briskly turned around and left the room, leaving her shaking behind. She ran after him and on her way she grabbed a bowl with dirty water. The water sloshed out as she ran, making her gown wet, but she didn‘t care. Christine saw him walking away, leisurely whistling a tune, his back turned to her.

  “Son of a whore,” she yelled.

  The moment he turned around, and she saw his angry face, she threw the bowl at him. It flew through the air, spilling a water trail behind it, and hit him square on his forehead, spilling the remaining water over his face and down his armor. Eadric furiously spat water. She laughed, taunting him. He chased after her, one hand on the pommel of his sword. Laughing, she ran back inside her room, closed, and bolted the door behind her. Eadric thrashed against the thick oak door and started kicking it, but it didn‘t give way.

  “I‘ll get you for this, you little…”

  He cursed, kicked the door a last time, and walked away. Christine pressed her back against the door and sighed. Eadric was right. Her father would just accuse her of having a fit of hysterics, craving his attention, and at worst he would give Eadric only a slap on the hand, more out of show than any honest belief he had participated in any wrongdoings. A tear rolled over her cheek. She should tell Lyna about how mean Eadric really was, but she didn‘t know how to do that without hurting her. It had been a long while since she had seen her sister so happy. Eadric, for all the wrong he was, treated Lyna well and with love, but Christine doubted he really loved her.

  She stayed in her room the remainder of the day. She had expected Lyna to come knocking in the evening, but while waiting for her sister, Christine fell asleep. She woke up to knocking on her door and quickly stood up. Groggy, she walked to the door and opened it; two serving girls entered, apologizing for waking her. Christine had seen them before in the courtyard but never as her serving girls. They were about her age. The shortest one started to pick up Christine‘s clothes from the floor where Christine had dropped them the day before and the sheets Christine had tossed while sleeping. The taller one brought with her a wooden bucket with hot water, which she put down near the basin. She threw the water from the basin out the window and filled it with fresh water from the bucket.

  “Please bolt the door,” Christine told the shorter serving girl.

  As the girl did as she asked, Christine took off her dress and walked over to the tall servant who proceeded to rub the dirt off her skin. Looking at herself naked she couldn‘t fail to notice that her breast had grown bigger, her hips wider, and that she had started to fill out. Her slender girl‘s body was turning into a full-grown woman. There was almost no difference between her and Lyna, though they could not top Claudette in beauty.

  Her thoughts floated to the farm boy. Would he hold her in her arms, sniff her hair, and say he loves her? She blushed. The serving girls saw this and giggled, causing her to blush even more.

  “Out,” she yelled, “leave me be.”

  “But your clothes—” the taller servant said.

  “Go. Now!”

  Christine‘s nose flared and her body trembled with anger. She didn‘t know why she reacted so severe, but how she felt about him was private, something she wouldn‘t even share with Lyna and certainly not with some girls she didn‘t know well. They quickly scurried away giggling, and Christine hated them for it. Angry, she sat naked on her bed. Cold air from outside brushed against her naked skin. Her arms filled with goose bumps, and she rubbed them warm. What was she to do? She had asked her father and he wouldn‘t let her go. She couldn‘t ask Lyna for help without divulging everything to her. Besides, what could Lyna really do? Just like Christine, Lyna wouldn‘t get anything from their father.

  A knock on the door startled her. She had not locked the door. The thought Eadric had come back sent her scrambling, running for the door while she covered herself with the bed linen, which she wound around herself.

  Almost inaudible from the other side, she heard a girl‘s voice. “My lady, please forgive us, we didn‘t mean any offense.”

  It was one of the serving girls; Christine relaxed. “Come inside.”

  The servant came inside the room, blushing; it was the short one. She had freckles and wide open eyes, things Christine only now noticed now that she paid more attention to the girl.

  “My lady, we didn‘t want to upset you; it‘s that we have always seen you from afar and never happy like you just were.”

  Whatever anger Christine had in her flushed away. It was true. Thinking about the young farmer made her feel happier inside than she had been in ages. She forgave the girl. Giggling at her expense was not a crime that she would complain about to her father. As long they did their chores, she was fine with them. Christine looked the girl up and down. She was shorter, but the size would fit. It might work, Christine thought.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Leurbost, a village not far from here.”

  As Christine had expected, there was not any other village this close to the castle.

  “Do you know a farmer, a young man, tall, well built?”

  The girl blushed some more. Christine got a flash of anger at that. It was obvious she knew him and like him a little too well.

  “His name is James,” the servant girl said, her voice a pitch higher with excitement, “all the younger women fawn over him, even some older ones, but he doesn‘t pay them mind.” Christine‘s nose flared. The serving girl quickly turned her eyes away. “Please forgive me for speaking out of tu
rn.”

  Christine breathed in deeply. “Undress.”

  The girl‘s lips trembled; she looked back at the door and then slowly turned back, looking puzzled. “My lady?”

  “Just do it.”

  She quickly did as commanded and soon after she stood naked in front of Christine, shyly covering her breasts and crotch with her hands. Christine let go of the sheet covering her. With them both standing naked in front of each other the girl slowly put her hands down and lowered her chin. She shivered a little, her skin covered with goose bumps.

  “Help me put your clothes on,” Christine said.

  The fabric itched her soft skin. It was rougher than the velvet and silk she was used to. It was made from woolen fabric and it fitted tightly. She tucked her hair in the funny bonnet the serving girls always had on.

  “Stay in my room, bolt the door behind me, and open for no one but me.”

  “But my chores, my lady.”

  “Did I ask you? No, I ordered you, or are you going against my wishes?”

  She quickly left her room, leaving the pleading serving girl behind. Christine‘s heart was beating in a flurry. She had not planned this, but she couldn‘t allow such an opportunity to go wasted. She had to try and talk to the young man, to James. She liked the ring of his name. Maybe as a servant girl, he would like her as he would any other girl and not be shied away by her standing. She thought about his lips; maybe she would get the chance to touch them with her own. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. Smiling, she ran through the arched hallway.

  Up ahead she heard familiar voices. Eadric and her father. She slowed to a walk and moved closer to the wall, making herself smaller.

  “Eadric, I‘ve got a task for you. Go to the village and look into an animal attack and take a few barrels of wine to set the peasants at peace.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  She heard Eadric‘s footsteps rush away. Lord Robert turned the corner, startling her. She quickly lowered her face and stepped aside to make way for him.

  “You,” her father said, “go check on Lady Christine and see if she is well.”

  “Yes, my lord,” she said with a trembling voice, hoping she masked it well enough.

  Her father was already walking away not waiting for an answer, always expecting that his commands were followed by his subordinates.

  Luckily, on her way out she ran into no one else and the courtyard was deserted. Her heartbeat slowed a little, and she breathed more relaxed. She was almost there, from here on it would be a long walk; however, she just had to get through the gate first. She crossed the courtyard while fighting not to break into a run. At the gates she saw a wagon in front of the inner doors ready to leave. Eadric was bullying soldiers to load wine on it. From the sour looks the soldiers gave the young knight it was obvious that she was not alone in disliking him. She smiled, but her smile faltered knowing that she had to be more careful with him around.

  She ran to the shadow the wall cast over the courtyard and moved close along the wall, almost hugging it. She cast a silent prayer that no one would see her from the castle and raise the alarm. Christine crept toward the gate, getting as close as possible without being seen by the soldiers, and waited until she heard them finish loading the wagon. She took a quick peek. Soldiers were walking to the barracks, and Eadric was walking to the stalls to get his horse. One had stayed behind to guard the wagon, but he had his back turned to her. She crept out of cover, breathing lightly and sweating heavily as she moved closer to the wagon. She made it without making too much noise. The barrels were covered with a woolen sheet; she pushed it up a little and slipped under the sheet and onto the wagon. She wiggled into the small space between two large wooden barrels filled with wine. A stowaway on the wagon. She held in a giggle.

  Eadric returned on horseback, barking orders at the soldier. The wagon rocked with the weight of the soldier getting on. Soon after, they moved with a shock and stopped a few feet before the outer gate. She heard the crane working the iron cable raising the portcullis. After a short wait the wagon started moving again. The village was not far, but the wagon was not going as fast as she would have liked to. All the while she sat still, not daring to move and risk making a sound that would betray her presence. Finally, in what seemed an eternity, the wagon stopped.

  Christina tried to move and jump off before they came for the wine, but she felt as if a thousand needles pricked her legs. She couldn‘t move them. Her heart started racing. They would discover her if she didn‘t move soon. She rubbed her legs and hoped the warmth would bring some life back to them. The wagon rocked when the driver dismounted. Christine started rubbing more frantic, not caring if someone heard her or saw any movement. Some feeling returned, and she didn‘t wait any longer. She ignored the pain of blood rushing through her legs as she jumped from the wagon, startling the soldier that was just about to remove the sheet covering the cargo. Eadric yelled for her to stop in the name of her father. While running she laughed mockingly without complying with his demands. The tree line closed in fast. She plunged into the shrubs and kept running among the trees until she was convinced she didn‘t hear any hoofs or steps coming after her. She collapsed near a tree and rested her back against it.

  Breathing in quickly and out again, on and on, she felt like she lacked enough oxygen to keep going. Her body trembled all over, her muscles screamed sore, and she felt a pain she was not used to, but despite all those feelings of discomfort, she felt exhilaratingly alive. She had done it. She went out by herself, against her father‘s will, for something, no someone, she really wanted. As foolish as it might be, it didn‘t matter to her. Let her be a fool if being a fool meant feeling like this.

  After a long rest she stood up, for it was time for her to find James the farmer. Christine had not taken in her surroundings during her escape, but on her way back trailing the spore of twisted twigs and footprints on the fallen leaves and the few spots of dirt, she took the time to take it all in. She looked on in awe at the trees rising up to the sky higher than any castle wall she had ever seen, a lush green canopy of foliage on top. The sunlight broke here and there in beams of light, and dust and tiny leaves fell in a slow, dry rain in between the lights. The feel of walking on the soft tapestry of leaves, moss, dirt, mushrooms, shrubbery, and branches was so different from the roads and tiled stone floors she was used to. She enjoyed the sound of the many birds chirping in the trees, and the critters rustling through the foliage. She loved it all. The scent was so fresh, so natural, that she wished she lived here instead of surrounded by cold stone walls.

  Christine reached the forest edge. In the distance she saw small wooden houses with straw roofs, and beyond that the farmlands and farmsteads. She wondered in which James lived and worked. Could she live such a life? A harsh life far from the care of servants and comfort of wealth? Far from the protection of the tall stone walls surrounding the castle? She dreaded if life was only worth living under the comfort of wealth and the safety of a castle; there should be more to it. There should be better to be had. Love, she thought, love was all she needed.

  About to walk down to the village and leave the cover of trees, she spotted Eadric. Christine hid behind a tree, watching him talking with an old man. She could hear Eadric‘s agitated voice but what he said evaded her. Whatever it was it didn‘t seem to go all that well for the young knight. He pushed the old man to the ground and pulled his sword. She walked out of cover and put her hands next to her mouth to scream for Eadric to stop, but before she did, James came running, wielding a huge ax in his hands. He towered over Eadric with his bare-chest and his muscles bulging. He was a monster of a man, a magnificent specimen worth a thousands Eadrics in valor and prowess. Christine felt her body grow hot and weak; she could feel the flush running over her cheeks.

  Eadric backed away from James, swaying his sword in front of him and throwing curses at both James and the old man. The distance between them grew enough for Eadric to feel safe; he sheathed his swo
rd and turned back to get on his horse and leave. Christine wanted to cheer for James and mock the young knight, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. Instead, she slowly approached the two men. The old man held on to James, and James stood tall as a divine statue of a Greek god.

  “What do you want, maid,” the old man said when he noticed her.

  “I…” She looked at James and then quickly away. “I want to talk to him.”

  The old man chuckled. “Another one, what witchcraft did you do, boy, that they flock to you? Now you even got a serving girl from the castle following you.”

  James smiled at the old man, ignoring Christine. “Need help getting home, old man?”

  “Don‘t you worry, son. I‘ll manage myself.”

  “Excuse me, kind sir, could—”

  The old man turned back. He and James looked at her for a short while in silence before bursting into laughter.

  “Girl,” said the old man, “you are not at the castle, and we certainly are no sirs. You are not among your precious lords and ladies and their knights.” At knights he spat the ground.

  “No knights here,” James said, “worthless scum living off our backs.”

  “Lord Robert keeps you safe,” Christine said.

  “Tell that to the girl we found shredded to pieces,” James said.

  Christine felt dismayed, not at what he said but the way the venom came off with every word he spat out. She was glad she came to him as a serving girl and not as Lady Christine. What had her father done to make them hate him so?

  “I‘m sorry. I really am,” Christine said.

  James stared at her, and then he laughed jovially. “I‘m not mad at you.”

  Laughing, the old man bid them farewell and left them alone. This was what she had wanted, but now she stood fidgeting with her fingers. No matter how much she wanted to trace her eyes over his chest and lose herself in his eyes, she looked instead at her toes. She could feel his eyes burning on her, questioning her, and her body so close to his, almost overwhelmed her. She wanted to enjoy the moment, but she just couldn‘t.