It was only when he straightened and held out her coif and veil that she realized her face was still uncovered. Taking the item from him, she quickly redonned it, a small sigh of relief slipping between her lips once she was hidden behind the veil again. Elysande had no idea how bad her face must look at the moment, but it felt lumpy and was swollen to the point that her skin hurt, so she feared she must look like a monster. She didn’t mind that so much. She wasn’t interested in looking pretty for him, but she’d hidden her face in the hopes of avoiding the pity and dismay she feared it would elicit from anyone who looked upon the damage. She’d also wanted to give the appearance of being strong and well, fearing that if the Buchanans had realized the shape she was in they might decide she was more trouble than they wished to take on and refuse to escort her to Sinclair.
But he’d seen her face now. Hopefully that wouldn’t make him refuse her further escort. Elysande was just grateful he hadn’t approached a few minutes earlier and seen her back. He’d probably mount up at once and leave them behind then.
“Are ye ready to return to camp?”
Elysande peered at him through the veil. As she’d noted earlier, Rory Buchanan was a handsome man, and built like a warrior. He was unmarred by the scars most warriors carried on their faces and bodies though, and that made her wonder about him.
“Aye,” Elysande said finally when she realized he was waiting for an answer. She hesitated when he offered his arm, but then placed her hand on it and allowed him to lead her back toward the clearing where they were to camp, Tom and Simon trailing behind.
“I made ye a tincture,” Rory announced as they stepped out of the trees. “I left it with Alick while I came to look fer ye.”
“A tincture?” Elysande asked, her eyes seeking out the younger brother and finding him sitting on a log in the center of the clearing, a chalice in hand.
“Aye. ’Tis the best I can do at the moment. ’Twill make ye sleep deeply so the pain does no’ bother ye,” he explained.
Elysande shook her head. “Thank you, but I will not take your tincture.”
The Buchanan stopped walking at once and faced her, his expression both surprised and concerned. “’Twould help ye sleep, m’lady.”
“A deep, potion-induced sleep,” she pointed out.
“Aye,” he agreed solemnly. “But sleep is all I can offer to help ye through the pain.”
“But I would be hard to waken if there was trouble,” she said with concern.
“Should we expect trouble?” he asked at once.
Elysande hesitated and then started walking again, forcing him to walk with her as she admitted, “I am not sure.”
That was the truth. Her mother had hoped that de Buci would think she’d head south to court. It was why she’d sent her north to Scotland. Her mother had wanted her to be safe at Sinclair. But the mention of the soldiers that had approached Monmouth while they were in the clearing made her worry that de Buci had somehow figured out they were traveling to Scotland and had sent men after her. If so, there would definitely be trouble.
“Ye need to tell me what this is all about so that my men and I can be prepared to handle the threat,” Rory said quietly as they reached the fallen log where Alick sat.
Elysande peered up at his face made hazy through the veil, admitting to herself that he was right. In truth, she was surprised that it had taken him so long to demand answers. She steeled herself against the memories and put off the telling by moving in front of the log and slowly and carefully easing herself to perch on it next to Alick. She then waited for Rory to settle on her other side before lowering her head to stare at her slippers where they peeked out from her skirts and cloak.
“Three days ago my life was as it had always been,” she began slowly. “It was calm, happy and peaceful. And then de Buci arrived at Kynardersley castle.”
“Four,” Tom said as he and Simon settled on the ground in front of her. “De Buci arrived at Kynardersley four days ago.”
“You were three nights in the dungeon, m’lady,” Simon informed her as the Buchanan warriors moved closer to hear. “The night de Buci arrived, and two nights after, before we took you away.”
Elysande recognized the pity in Simon’s voice and turned her gaze back to her slipper-clad feet again, murmuring, “I was unconscious by the time we reached the cells in Kynardersley’s dungeon. I must have remained so for longer than I realized.”
She didn’t give them time to comment, but started over. “Very well, then, four days ago my life was as it had always been . . . and then de Buci arrived. He was a longtime friend of my parents. He had been to Kynardersley often over the years, but this time he arrived with a good-sized army at his back. That was unusual, but he explained that he was just stopping in on his way to court, and he left most of them to camp outside the walls. He brought only a dozen men into the bailey with him. His knights.
“Father welcomed him as always, and then informed him we were just about to sit down to our evening repast and invited him and his men to join us, saying he would send the stable master out to see to the horses. But de Buci told him not to bother the stable master and ordered his men to see to the horses themselves and then come inside to join us at table.”
Elysande recalled the smiles and light chatter and laughter as they’d gone back into the great hall with this old family friend. Shaking her head, she carried on. “Everything seemed fine at first. We chatted lightly and then Father fell into a discussion with de Buci about politics or the king or something, and Mother waved a servant over. She was telling her to prepare the guest chamber when the keep doors opened and de Buci’s men began to file in. No one paid them any attention, but I noticed that there seemed to be more of them than the dozen or so we left outside and that they were filing around the table, rather than each finding seats. I was just thinking that it was almost as if they were surrounding those of us seated at the trestle tables when Father suddenly cried out. When I looked his way it was to see him stumble back from the table, and then fall, a dagger in his chest. Before I could even grasp that he was dead, murdered by de Buci, that bastard was dragging my mother and me to our feet. As he shoved us over toward the hearth, he shouted to his men to ‘kill them all.’?”
Elysande could still hear the startled shouts and shrieks of the people around the trestle tables as the soldiers were murdered where they sat, along with any of the women brave or foolish enough to try to intervene. They were all caught so much by surprise that she didn’t think one man had managed to draw a weapon to defend himself before being cut down. It had been a slaughter that had left the rushes soaked in a widening pool of blood. And the stench! She had tended to many ill and injured with her mother and knew death could be a messy ordeal, but nothing could have prepared her for what she witnessed.
Elysande swallowed as the little bit of food she’d had when they’d stopped to eat tried to crawl up her throat. Pushing the memories away, she cleared her throat. “My mother and I stood huddled together by the hearth when he released us to watch his men kill everyone. It could not have taken more than a minute before ’twas all done. Then de Buci ordered one of his men to watch us and told the others to search the castle before storming off to the small chamber where Father worked on the castle accounts. I presume he searched that room himself.
“Mother was in shock, I think. She kept saying everything would be fine. The guards on the wall would realize something was wrong and come to take care of these men, and then we could bind Father’s wound and he would survive.” Elysande squeezed her fingers tightly closed and shook her head. “But I could see he was dead already, and I knew that for so many of de Buci’s men to have entered the castle, our own men on the wall and in the soldiers’ barracks must already be dead too. I didn’t tell her my suspicions at the time, but I later learned I was right. While de Buci had sat chatting and laughing with us, the dozen knights who had entered the bailey with him had gone around and quietly killed the men on the wall, and then had opened the portcullis to let the rest of his army in. The first thing they’d done was attack the men in the barracks, taking them enough by surprise that they put up little more of a fight than the ones who were at table with us. Only then had his men entered the keep and surrounded the trestle tables to finish off the remaining soldiers.”
“God in heaven,” Alick breathed at her side, and Elysande felt her lips twist with disgust. God had nothing to do with the slaughter of her people. And if He had been watching, He hadn’t raised a finger to intervene.
“De Buci was not gone long,” she continued, her voice sounding unnaturally calm to her own ears. “He immediately began questioning his men as to whether they’d found anything. When the last man returned from the ordered search and said no, he turned his attention to us.”