The agreement

Chapter Nine

Summer was dying and the morning was cold. Mist softened the stark stone walls of the keep making the place look less like the prison it had been over the last months of her life. Emma wrapped her fur lined cloak closer around her as she walked out the keep door and down the wood steps to the cart carelessly piled with its rather pitiful boxes of her belongings. Four men at arms were to accompany her, more for her dowry's protection than hers she expected, smiling to herself wryly. She prayed her uncle wouldn't bother to see her off, she'd prefer to never see his rodent face again and his last words to her last night had been gloating and cruel as usual.

She tossed her hair back, ridding herself of the memory and looked ahead at the small cold group past the cart. A groom held the bridle of her horse, but on the horse beside him sat a tall darkly dressed man, his cloak not disguising his leather breeches and jerkin underneath. Emma stopped in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat. Dear God, this must have been Vaisey's idea of one final way to get back at her. He had never directly mentioned finding her with Guy in the stables, but he obviously hadn't forgotten. He must have thought that they were lovers and making his master at arms deliver her to her new husband a way of punishing them both. Vaisey didn't care what the truth was, it was enough to cause her pain even away from her presence.

She drew herself up to her full height, walked to her horse and kindly smiled at the young boy who helped her mount. She threw him a small coin, and he grinned back, bringing at least some small joy in the morning. Emma smoothed her gloves and arranged her reins, head high and straight ahead, ignoring the rider to her left as Guy kicked his horse into a quick trot through the gates and into the damp countryside beyond. She followed, cursing her uncle and herself for losing the one friend that could have made this journey bearable.

The ride was interminable, the roads were choked with the winter muds, the chilly spring sun doing little to thicken and dry them out. Every mile they had to stop to dig out the cart as its rough wood wheels struggled through deep crevasses of water and filth. Guy had managed to avoid speaking to her at all so far, which in itself wasn't entirely unusual, after all he had always been a man of few words. But the tension between them was almost palpable , thicker than the fog that still carpeted the forest around them. Emma had decided to take an incredible amount of interest in the countryside they slowly travelled through, rather than even glance in his direction. The only sounds were the slight chime of the horses bits and the quiet murmurs of armed guards behind her. They passed through desperately poor villages, the serfs falling silent as they passed, their eyes never leaving the swords of the armed men.

At the end of the first day they stopped in a inn as dusk fell. Guy and Emma dismounted outside the makeshift stables by the building that was little more than a two storey hovel. She winced as muscles unused to riding for hours on end complained.

"Why didn't you tell Vaisey that I forced you?" She looked up, Guy wasn't looking at her, busy unsaddling his horse, his head turned away. But it had definitely been his voice, his question.

She was dumb struck, of anything he could have asked, it hadn't been that. He was right, of course, she could have, it would have protected her honour in case any one had found out, and Guy as the social inferior and bound servant to her uncle would have had to pay for the abuse of trust. But she hadn't, in fact it hadn't even occurred to her.

"Because that would have been a lie"

Oh God's Teeth, she berated herself almost instantly. A lie? What was she, some legal scribe with scrolls and pen stains on her fingers writing treatises about the meaning of truth. She had lied many times in her life without a second thought. It was nothing to do with it being a lie, the reason she hadn't thought about throwing Guy to the wolves and putting any blame on him was because she had wanted it to happen, And because she loved him and god forbid, she had hurt him enough. The only reason that they had been there was her fault, her shame in deceiving him. If anyone had lied that night it had been Guy, for not telling Vaisey the real reason she'd been in the stables in the first place and she owed everything to him for that.

When she looked up, he'd gone.

Emma given the only room up the inn's rickety stairs, its previous opponent finding himself on the floor of the tavern after being dragged out by one of the Sheriff's men. He had the wisdom not to complain and slunk off as Emma gingerly sat on the filthy bed. As little as she was looking forward to her future husband and life, it couldn't be as horrible as this she sighed. Too tired and sore to eat, she simply wrapped her cloak around her and curled into a ball, falling almost instantly to sleep.

The next two days were the repeat of the first; cold and heart achingly slow and silent. Emma had periods of wanting to scream to release the tension she felt, just to shout that she was sorry, beg him to forgive her, explain that she hadn't meant to hurt him, that she just wanted... Christ, what she wanted... the thought of it burned her cheeks even in the chill sun. But it was useless, whatever they had had between them was gone, his emotions closed down, a monumental distance between them.

Just after lunch on the third day they climbed up a gentle rise in the ground, there in the near distance sat Bowes castle, its stone keep catching the afternoon light. It was beautiful she thought, harshly impressive with smooth creamy grey stone walls. It spoke of power and isolation, and as much as she had hated the idea, it at least promised her some kind of new start.