Page 148 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Chapter Nine
Laura sat onthe dais at the high table. Warm bread and a baked salmon, the second course of the evening meal lay untouched in front of her. Her stomach in knots, she glanced out the window across the courtyard for the hundredth time. She let out a large sigh of relief that Jamie was well hidden and there was no commotion. Much depended on the murderer revealing himself.
Laura’s unrest didn’t distract the others from their meals. Every seat was filled and while the conversations were tempered, the din echoed in her head.
Again, she looked across the courtyard, her anxiety building. This was ridiculous. She put down her linen and rose from her chair.
“Can I get you something?” Mrs. Turner asked, holding a full platter of meat.
“More ale, Mrs. Turner.” A pitcher was held high in the air. The housekeeper searched the room, but her staff was busy.
“No, I don’t need anything. I’m a bit restless this evening. I’ll take the pitcher down to the well and get you some fresh water for the ale.” She tucked her chair under the table.
“No, you needn’t go. I’ll send one of the girls. They’re accustomed to climbing the steep steps in the dim light.” Mrs. Turner had enough to contend with this evening. She didn’t want to add to her burden.
“You can’t be everywhere.” Laura grabbed the empty pitcher. “While you finish here, I’ll bring the pitcher to the kitchen and tell them more ale is needed in the hall.”
Mrs. Turner gave her a wide smile. “Take care on your way to the kitchen. Crates have been stacked there. The passage is narrow.”
Laura hurried out of the room. The passageway was choked with people running between the kitchen and the Great Hall. She sidestepped around servants rushing out with hot food and others returning with empty platters. She took special care to avoid the stairs that went down to the well and finally reached the kitchen.
“More ale is needed,” she said as someone took the pitcher from her. There was no time for pleasantries.
The kitchen was controlled chaos with one cook carving the roast while another rushed to get fowl off a spit. The cauldron that hung in the fireplace bubbled with an aromatic stew. She breathed in the wonderful aromas.
Out of the noisy commotion, a baby toddled toward her in tears.
“Where are you going, little one? It’s not safe here.” Laura picked up the child, afraid she tumble down the stairs. The child squirmed and cried louder.
“She’s cutting teeth and is a bit out of sorts,” a woman said carrying a platter of vegetables hurried behind the baby. The woman looked around and finally handed the platter to one of the servants to bring to the hall.
“Not to worry, dear. Mummy’s here.” The baby unexpectedly dove toward her mother, but got her arm caught in Laura’s necklace.
The baby, safe in her mother’s arms pointed to the beads and laughed as they bounced on the floor.
Laura scrambled to collect the beads but only managed to catch two. She put them into her pocket and looked everywhere to see where the others had landed.
Consequences. Lose a bead lose something precious to you, that’s what Lisbeth warned. A cold chill ran up her back. Jamie was most precious to her.
“Lose. How? His love? His life?” She gasped while she tried to control the panic that grew within her.
“Don’t move.” She held her arms out and brought the activity to a halt. “I must find the six beads.”
Everyone stayed back.
“Here, m’lady.” One of the squired handed her an agate beads. She took them and put it in her pocket with the others.
Another had rolled to the wall, the fifth one not far away. She quickly gathered them and tucked them into her pocket. That left three still missing. She turned and searched the floor. Someone handed her a candle. Maybe the beads would sparkle in the candle light. She raised the candle and methodically went over the floor. Her skirt swished as she turned near the top of the steps.
“Careful, m’lady,” the woman holding the child shouted.
But her warning was too late. Laura heard the pinging sound as one by one, the three beads bounced down the stairs to the bottom.
“I’ll get them,” the mother of the baby said. “I have to bring up a pitcher of water.”
“No. You can’t go down with the baby. I’ll go.” She raised the candle and started down the narrow stone staircase.
The shadows deepened as she left the light from the main level behind her. The cold and damp in the lower regions of the castle were the right condition to create a slick film of ice on the stones steps. Laura picked her way down the stairs until she reached the bottom. Not far in front of her she saw a sparkle. Encouraged, she picked up one of the agate beads.
