Page 25 of The Herald's Heart
“Aye. She said she had deliveries to make and supplies to get for the keep.”
“A likely tale.” Talon growled, determined not to feel any anxiety. “You, boy,” he yelled at a nearby stable lad. “Saddle my horse and fetch it here.”
The youth nodded and sped off.
Talon paced.
Cleve hurried to match his shorter strides to Talon’s long ones. “D’ye think she lied, sir?”
“A woman who deceives an entire village into thinking she is a ghost and is widely known as Liar Larkin? What do you think?” That’s right. Focus on her history as a deceiver. She was not a woman who affected him in any way other than to inspire lust and a great deal of frustration.
The soldier nodded. “I’ve been a fool. I’m sorry, sir.”
Feeling some small sympathy for the man now that he’d seen the error of his ways, Talon clapped him on the back. “Never mind. We’ll get her back. Tell me, how long has she been gone?”
“Since just after the men left this morning.”
“More than half the day. The village does not have that great a need for carting. If she was telling the truth, would she not have returned by now?”
“Happen not, sir. She also carts for the abbey, and the anchoress who lives outside the abbey walls and blesses all who ask.”
“I met that anchoress.” He’d never forget the invective and dire warnings she gave when he asked for directions that foggy night weeks past. “What need would a holy woman, walled away from the world, have for a carter?”
“Even an anchoress must provide for her supper. Dame Margery makes the purest, sweetest smelling soaps and candles anywhere.” Cleve puffed out his chest as if he made the candles himself. “She brings the abbey a pretty penny, and they take right good care ’o her for it.”
“Fascinating, but how will this help me find Mistress Larkin?”
“’Tis she collects all the things what the anchoress needs to make her candles. Liar Larkin also gathers wild herbs and such for the abbey so they can make medicaments. ’Tis a healing order the nuns are.”
The stable lad approached with Talon’s destrier.
“So our Lady Liar could be leagues away in any direction. Order another search party, Cleve. Make sure the men know she is not to be harmed when she’s found, but I want her returned to the keep with all possible speed.” Now that he had some idea where to look, Talon knew he’d find her. The only question was how long it would take. Once she was found, he might just follow through with his threat to lock her in the dungeon. She would learn what it meant to break a vow made to him.
“Aye, Sir Talon.”
“I’ll start by asking in the village, then search the wood between here and the abbey. Have some men search the cliff side caves as well. Send word to the abbey if you find her.”
“’Tis no need to search the caves, Sir Talon. She be dead if she went there. High tide floods the place, and today’s noontide was high enough for that.”
Obviously, Cleve did not know of the secret passage. Larkin might survive there, if the carpenter placed the new door closer to the keep than the sea. Nearer the keep, the sea might not fill the tunnel to drowning height. Talon rejected the guilt at the thought of Larkin dead. He had no cause for guilt. She was not Lady Rosham as she claimed. But if she did not lie, as the wife of the Earl of Hawksedge, her claim to the lands could be seen as stronger than that of a disavowed son. “Search anyway.” He mounted as he gave his orders, then sent his horse galloping from the keep without waiting for Cleve to reply.
• • •
She was nowhere to be found. Asking in the village had taken longer than Talon expected. Folk left their labor in droves to tell him that they’d seen Larkin on the road to Rosewood, or heading in the opposite direction to the woods and the abbey beyond, or splitting the difference to say she’d gone to the cliffs.
She’d taken tallow and lard from the butcher to the goodwives making soap near the brook. The women at the brook had sent their soap with her to Wat the miller to barter for flour.
That news increased Talon’s anxious irritation. The miller had a grudge against Larkin and would no doubt take advantage, especially if his wife was not nearby. Talon arrived at the mill to find the miller nursing a bloodied nose and cursing the day he’d met Liar Larkin.
“She cheated me, she did. Struck me blind and took more flour than we bargained for. She’s a thief.”
Talon nearly laughed aloud at the thought that Larkin could incapacitate the hefty miller to the point where she could steal his wares in front of him. Nor was the wench so stupid that she would commit such a crime where she could be seen. Certainly she had no need to steal flour. The earl’s keep was well provisioned. “Should I find your flour, it will be returned to you. But you will have to make a thorough accounting first.”
“Do you call me liar, sir?”
“Nay, but you have cause to wish harm to the carter. I would have justice for each of you. Now tell me which way she went.”
“Toward the abbey,” the miller grumped.
