Page 14 of The Herald's Heart
“Aye, Sir Talon.” He stood and put his tankard on the table. “Will there be aught else, sir?”
“We must deal with the security and cleanliness of this keep. We must have knights and more guards to ensure Hawksedge remains safe. We could bring men in from the village to clean as well, since you say the women will not do so.”
“A few knights could be called back from the border, but ye’d have to send word far and wide if ye want more ’n three or four mounted men. As for cleaning the keep, if men could be found t’ do the work, I doubt the earl would let them.”
“Why? What’s the earl afraid of?” Talon felt no hesitation to go against the earl’s orders, but he did hesitate to give any order that might bring the earl’s retribution on any defenseless person.
“I don’t know that he’s afraid of anything. Though Liar Larkin did a powerful good job ’o scaring folks. I do know that the earl will have naught but the godliest men near him. There aren’t many who match his standards.”
“Ahh.” Incomplete though it was, the picture forming of the earl soured Talon’s stomach. At best, the man appeared to suffer a guilty conscience. Either that or the earl was the worst sort of hypocritical petty tyrant. “You serve the earl, and not to offend you, but you don’t seem all that pious to me.”
He poured more ale into Cleve’s tankard, encouraging him to talk.
The man laughed. “I am not, but then I don’t serve inside the keep proper. I’m outside most o’ the time and live in the barracks next the inner wall of the bailey.”
“If the women won’t come into the keep and the men are forbidden, how then did the place get cleaned at all, for I do not see years of filth strewn about.”
“Sometimes Father Timoras preaches the virtues of being clean. Then the village women come in a group to scrub the keep from top to bottom.”
“Does it take them long?”
“A se’enight most times. Often they don’t finish afore the preaching wears off.”
“We must assure all the villagers that the keep is safe for men and women alike. I expect you to make that clear and have more workers here by morning.
“By then I also want an inventory of all the animals that are returned. For now, send me the keep’s carpenter. When you have a moment, check on Liar Larkin. Make certain she follows my orders.” Much wiser to send Cleve, who seemed immune to the woman’s allure, than to risk checking on her himself and falling into a lusty trap. Safer, too, for both him and the lovely liar.
“Aye, sir.” Cleve saluted and left.
Talon sipped at his ale and pondered how best to secure the secret entrance to the keep and prevent any more hauntings. The present state of Hawksedge appalled him. The holding was a vital part of England’s defense against marauding Scots. The earl had much more to account for than a neglected oath of fealty. Edward would be furious when he received the missive Talon would send. He would write that as soon as he dealt with the carpenter and filled one of the many holes in the keep’s protection.
• • •
Larkin wiped the last of the dust from the shelves in the earl’s counting room. She’d started cleaning there because she’d yet to complete her search of the windowless space. Last night, before she’d been interrupted, she’d all but finished chiseling free that section of newly mortared stones. If she must labor like a peasant, she might as well make use of every opportunity to continue to ferret out the marriage box.
She set her dust cloth aside and pulled her tools from the pocket of her apron. She’d have to sweep the floor when she was done, but she’d not removed the rushes yet, so getting behind those stones would cost her little extra labor.
She finished cleaning, set her dust rags aside, and pulled a chisel and hammer from her apron pocket to attack the last corner of the wall. As she set her chisel, she paused and rose on tiptoe to examine the mortar. It was rough. Much rougher than mortar spread by a mason. The light of the single torch in the sconce by the door was too poor to tell for certain. She stroked a finger along the mortar line and was certain she felt the longer gouges of a chisel. How could that be? She had not touched this corner yet.
Curious, she set her chisel in place, struck with the hammer, moved the chisel, and then struck again. She repeated the actions over and over with but one answer to her problem. The only person who knew what she’d been at in this room was Sir Talon. However, he’d had no chance to act before her. Could he have set someone else to the task? Why?
She hesitated before taking the strokes to remove all the mortar and studied how the stones might fall. The last thing she wanted was to have one or more hit her.
A footfall scraped. She turned. The torch went out.
“Who’s there?”
The sound of breathing and the soft shuffle of leather against stone echoed throughout the room, making it impossible to tell where the person was.
“Who ...?”
Pain struck her head. She staggered. A rumble of rock falling was the last thing she heard before a second blow knocked her senseless.
• • •
A pounding ache in her head muted the voices that woke her. Larkin opened her eyes, but could see nothing in the dim torchlight save the open door to the counting room.
“St. Cuthbert help us, look at all the gold.”
