If Not For The Knight, Debbie Boek [electronic reader TXT] 📗

“She walks stiffly, sits down very gingerly. She denies anything is wrong, but the pain shows on her face when she is not aware someone is looking.”

He stopped for a moment, his face a mask of restrained fury. “The boy wears a black eye. Says he fell and hit it, but I do not believe him.”

“Edgar?” Calder asked in a cold, quiet voice.

“I could not say for sure, but I would assume so.”

“Tell Regan that I require her and her son to dine with me tonight. I will see for myself and try to get the truth from one or the other of them.”

“Milord,” Draco was uncharacteristically hesitant as he spoke “have you not noticed the way the boy looks?”

“What do you mean?” he asked curtly.

“Take a good look at him, Calder. See if there is anything familiar about his face.”

Calder's brow creased in confusion. “Familiar in what way? I have looked at the boy, Draco. Why are you speaking to me in riddles?”

“Just take a good, hard look at him, Milord,” Draco answered, then turned away to find Regan.

Regan was mystified as to why Calder would insist that she and Radolf dine with him when he had barely spoken to her for over a week. But, surprisingly, the meal passed pleasantly, with Calder telling her and Radolf how the building of the castle was progressing.

He and Radolf got into a long conversation about exactly how the castle would look when it was done and, of course, where all the secret passages would be.

There was something different in his eyes when he looked at her. Not pity exactly, but something she had never seen there before.

She worried that he might suspect what Edgar had done to her, but knew that could not be the case. Edgar made sure that none of her bruises were visible; all were well hidden beneath her clothing.

When dinner was over, Calder asked Regan if he could look over her paperwork.

“I'm sorry, Milord. I left it with Garrick earlier today.”

“Garrick,” he called, “take Mistress Regan to collect her papers.”

“Yes, M'Iord,” he replied, leading Regan to a different part of the Manor.

As soon as they left, Calder turned to Radolf. Knowing he would not have much time before Regan returned, he had to get right to the point.

“What happened to your face, Radolf?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet and calm as possible.

Radolf looked down at the table, twisting his fingers together. “I fell,” he answered reluctantly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Look at me, Radolf,” Calder said quietly, so no one else could hear him.

When Radolf raised his eyes, they were swimming in unshed tears.

“Friends don't lie to their friends. You know that, don't you?”

Radolf nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

“I know you promised your mother not to tell.” Radolf's eyes widened in amazement that Calder somehow knew that. “I won't tell her that we talked, but I must know the truth. Did your father hit you?”

Radolf looked into Calder's eyes, wanting to trust him, wanting to tell him, but afraid to do so. He remained silent.

“Just nod your head if it was your father, then you haven't told me anything and you've kept your word to your mother.”

After considering Calder's words for a moment, Radolf decided they made sense and nodded his head.

“Did he hurt your mother, as well?”

Again, Radolf tearfully nodded his head.

“You are a good boy, Radolf. Thank you.” Calder wanted to hold the boy in his arms and take his fear away, but did not do so because Regan would be back any second.

“I promise you that he won't hurt either of you again, Radolf. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, Lord Cawer,” he answered with a tremulous smile.

“Alright, no more tears, boy. Your mother is returning.”

Radolf quickly wiped his nose and looked down at his trencher, playing with the bits of food still left in it.

“This is quite impressive,” Calder told Regan after looking over her papers. “You certainly are covering all of the details. Do you have many more people to see?”

“It shouldn't take more than another week before I've met with everyone, Milord,” she stated, beaming with pride at his praise.

His eyes glowed with warmth as he watched her face. “Thank you for doing this, Regan. It certainly has helped me a great deal.”

“It hasn't been so bad,” she answered, “especially with Draco by my side.”

“And how has the assistant done so far?” he asked, smiling down at Radolf. “Is he earning his money?”

The boy looked eagerly over at his mother, excitement at the thought of receiving his penny causing him to forget all about his earlier conversation with Calder.

“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling tenderly at him. “He has definitely earned his wages.”

Radolf was still glowing with pleasure when Filbert arrived at the table. “Grandfather, I'm gonna get a silver penny for being the assissant,” he told him excitedly.

“Good for you, son,” Filbert said a little shortly. He had been caught off guard by the sight of his daughter and grandson sitting at the Lord's table and speaking so comfortably with him.

Sensing his displeasure, Regan stood and made a stiff curtsy to Calder. “If you have no more questions for me as far as the tax information,” she said, hoping her father would realize that was why she was there, “Radolf and I will be on our way now.”

“The information you have obtained is excellent, Regan. Let me know once you have met with everyone.”

“Yes, Milord.” She took Radolf's hand and they left the Manor.

“Thank you for coming, Filbert,” Calder said, waving him into the now vacant seat across from him. “We will have all the men at the quarry in the morning. I want to bring as much stone to the site as can be managed.”

“Yes, Milord,” Filbert answered, unable to keep the hostility out of his voice, or the suspicion from his eyes, as he tried to ascertain Calder's intentions toward his daughter.

“We will hold a judicial hearing in the afternoon. Everyone will be relieved from their work and I will hear your people's complaints then.”

“Thank you, Milord.” Filbert's expression showed his surprise. “They will be very happy about that.”

“How did they take the news of my being their new Lord?”

“Some better than others, Milord,” he answered noncommittally.

Calder smiled, admiring his diplomacy. “Till the morning, then,” he said, dismissing Filbert, who swiftly left the Manor.

“Men,” he called to his knights, “we will hold a judicial hearing tomorrow afternoon. I want all of you armed and ready for possible trouble.”

“Yes, Milord,” they answered, wondering what type of trouble could arise at such a simple procedure.

“Garrick and Draco, I have special jobs for you.” They each took a seat next to him in order to get their instructions.

“Draco,” he began, “after Regan is released from her duties in the afternoon, come to me. I will need you to be at my side during the hearings.”

“Yes, Milord,” he answered, curious as to why, but patient enough to wait until the morrow to find out.

“Garrick, it will be your responsibility to see that Regan and Radolf are well away from the proceedings. I do not want them anywhere near the village.”

“How shall I keep them away?” he asked with a frown.

“That, my friend, is up to you. Offer them a ride on the horses from the stable, take them berry picking, do whatever you have to, but do it in such a way that Regan does not suspect why.”

“Yes, M'Iord,” he answered, a little dubiously.

“I know that you are curious as to my plans, but I have not worked it all out in my head yet. All that I am sure of right now is that Regan cannot be anywhere near the hearings. You must trust me on this.”

“Of course, M'Iord." Garrick flushed in embarrassment that Calder may have thought he was doubting him.

“Good,” Calder replied with a thoughtful smile on his face.

The next afternoon, Calder sat behind a table at the top of the Manor stairs. Draco stood by his side and his men were stationed around the outer perimeter of the crowd of villagers.

One by one, the complainants came forward to make their accusations against their friends and neighbors. The first several complaints had to do with people milking or butchering animals that belonged, supposedly, to someone else. After the third such complaint, Calder stood to address the crowd.

Trying to keep the irritation from his voice, he said, “For now, we must keep the livestock together to protect them. I do not have enough men to patrol all