Dark Moon (The de Russe Legacy Book 6) Page 9

  Cirencester was a dirty little village that was quite overpopulated. Arriving on the outskirts, Trenton could see that poverty was fairly rife. It was August, so it was a warm month, and half-naked children ran in the gutters, chasing each other, as dogs barked alongside, while the stench from the gutters themselves filled the air to the point of making Trenton’s eyes water.

  It smelled like a cesspool.

  Heading deeper into town, Trenton kept an eye out for Markus, hoping the man had found something that was at least tolerable. Given the state of the village, he wasn’t at all sure that would happen. Amongst the wattle and daub huts, some of them held together by nothing more than twigs and mud, Trenton eventually spied a fairly large livery and thought it might be a good place for the escort to bed down for the night, providing it was close enough to the lodging for the ladies.

  Trenton turned to the nearest soldier and pointed off towards the livery, and the man understood the command and began to pass the word back through the troops. Bedding down in a livery wasn’t an unusual thing for groups of men, because taverns were expensive and not designed to accommodate masses of men, so Trenton headed for the livery to pay the livery master a few coins for the privilege. The men were beginning to move into the livery yard when he caught sight of Markus, heading back in his direction.

  “Well?” Trenton reined his horse to a halt. “What have you discovered?”

  Markus flipped up his three-point visor, of the latest style. “There are a few taverns towards the northern end of town,” he said. “A brief perusal told me that none of them were fit for Lady de Wilde, if you get my meaning, but there is one place, a smaller place off the main road, called The Greene and The Glory that does not seem to be overflowing with whores.”

  Trenton cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose we have little choice,” he said, glancing up at the sky as dark clouds gathered. “Did you secure a room?”

  “I secured three. I did not know how many you wanted.”

  Trenton nodded. “Wise,” he said. “I shall take a room and the ladies can take another. Will you take the third or will you sleep with the men?”

  Markus’ gaze drifted over to the group now beginning to filter into the livery yard. “That crew?” He shook his head. “Even if there was not a third room, I would not sleep with them.”

  Trenton looked at them. “But they are your men.”

  Slowly, Marcus shook his head. “Make no mistake, my lord,” he said, lowering his voice. “They are de Wilde’s men. They think like him and they behave like him. It is like having an army of misfits.”

  Trenton had suspected much the same thing, but hearing de Aston’s opinion only confirmed his observations. “As long as they obey your commands, I suppose an army of misfits is better than no army at all,” he said. “Take Lady de Wilde and her daughters to the tavern. I will be along shortly.”

  Markus nodded sharply and headed towards the wagon, which was just rolling by at this point. He spoke to the two men driving the team, pointing down the road to the northern end of the town. Just as the wagon began to pick up speed, Trenton could hear someone calling his name.

  “Sir Trenton!” It was Brencis. “Can I come with you to the stables, please? Sir Trenton!”

  It would have been very easy not to hear her plea, but Trenton couldn’t seem to ignore the child. She was sweet, and eager, and her all-consuming love for horses was somehow growing on him. He knew she probably wanted to see the other horses in the stable and he honestly couldn’t think of a reason to deny her. She wouldn’t be much trouble, he didn’t think, as he settled Dewi into a stall. He could handle one little girl. With a sigh, perhaps one of resignation, he reined Dewi over towards the wagon.

  When Markus saw him coming, he uttered commands to the men driving the team, and the wagon lurched to a halt. Brencis was standing on the edge, waving Trenton over, and he simply reined Dewi next to the wagon bed and scooped her up with one enormous arm. His focus was on Lysabel.

  “I will see you at the tavern,” he told her. “Brencis and I have a horse to settle.”

  Words of denial were on Lysabel’s lips, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter them. Brencis was giddy with delight and Trenton didn’t seem too annoyed at her request, so she simply smiled and nodded her head, knowing that any such refusals at this point would only see a hysterical daughter. As the wagon proceeded forward once again, Lysabel’s last glimpse of Trenton and Brencis was as the man settled the little girl across his lap and held tightly to her.

  But Brencis wasn’t going anywhere. She was exactly where she wanted to be and nearly delirious with delight as she was permitted to ride in front of Trenton astride his big warhorse. She held tight to the arm that was around her, holding her steady as they entered the livery yard where the men were gathering. A few words from Trenton had the men moving over to the north side of the yard and away from the corral with horses in it, and he proceeded to enter the livery itself, a great stone structure with a heavily-thatched roof.

  The livery inside was far less busy than outside. In fact, there were only a few animals in the cool, quiet interior and as Trenton entered, a round man in well-mended clothing approached him.

  “Lodgings for your horse tonight, my lord?” he asked.

  Trenton nodded. “My horse and a few others,” he said, gesturing towards the gang of men outside the livery. “Those are my men and they may need to seek a roof over their heads if the rains come, so I will pay you for the privilege. Most of the men are on foot but there are a few mounted soldiers, and we will need to feed those animals as well.”

  The livery man nodded, eyeing Dewi, whose head was nearly as long as the man’s body. “He’s a big one, my lord,” he commented. “Since he’s muzzled, I’ll assume he bites?”

  “Quite happily.”

  “Will you unmuzzle him so I can feed him?”

  Trenton lifted Brencis up and handed her over to the livery man, who quickly took the child and set her to her feet. “Aye,” Trenton replied as he dismounted. “As long as you feed him, he shouldn’t snap at you, but be advised that he has a foul temper at times. Brush him and water him, too.”

  The livery man simply nodded. “I’ve been in business for thirty years,” he said. “I’ve seen plenty of foul beasts come through here.”

  Trenton smiled, but it was without humor. “I can only imagine how true that is,” he said, removing a glove so he could extract coins from his coin purse. He pulled out several, placing them in the man’s palm. “Just be cautious around my horse and you should survive intact.”

  The man looked at the coins in his hand; it was a good deal of money. “Thank you, my lord,” he said sincerely. “Put your horse over here.”

  He was indicating a particularly warm and cozy corner with a small window for ventilation. As Trenton led Dewi over to the corner that smelled heavily of hay, the livery man followed along, unstrapping the enormous saddle and pulling it free of the horse. It ended up slung over the side of the stall as Trenton pulled his horse into the warm, dry area and removed his bridle, tying a rope into the halter he wore to secure him. He glanced around, looking for Brencis, who seemed to have strangely disappeared. So once the rope was secure and the livery man was pouring water into the horse’s bucket, he left the stall to hunt down the child.

  It didn’t take him long to find her.

  She was standing in a stall next to the entrance with a small white pony, hugging the animal and whispering to it. Trenton could hear her as he came up, and she was telling the pony much of the same things she had said to Dewi, only the pony was far more docile. As he came to the edge of the stall, a smile on his lips, she petted the pony’s face and scratched his velvety nose, kissing the animal between the eyes.

  “I see you’ve found a new best friend,” Trenton said, leaning against the post of the stall. “Dewi will think he has been jilted.”

  Brencis looked at him, beaming. “I saw her when we came into the stable,” she said. “She look
s so tiny and alone here. Where is her mummy?”

  Trenton peered at the pony, noting the whiskers and the faint white dusting of hair around the muzzle. “This is not a young horse,” he said. “She is older. See the white whiskers?”

  Brencis looked at what he was pointing to. “Oh,” she said simply. “She looks young.”

  “She is small.”

  “I love her very much.”

  “I am sure she appreciates that.”

  Brencis continued to hug and pet the pony, who was really very tolerant of the little girl fawning all over her. Trenton wondered how he was going to pull her away from the little thing without causing a battle.

  “We should find your mother now,” he said. “You can come with me in the morning to visit the pony again when I come to collect Dewi.”

  Brencis’ face fell but she didn’t argue. She simply looked at the pony with that terrible longing as one does when leaving something one very badly wants. In fact, Trenton had to look away because, more and more, he was becoming sympathetic to Brencis and her undying love of horses. It was really very sweet to witness, such innocent joy in something so simple. But it was more than that – this child, who had grown up with such a cruel father, still found the ability to love. As he stood there, waiting for her to separate herself from her instant best friend, the livery man came up beside him.

  “I see she’s found Snowdrop,” he said.

  Both Trenton and Brencis looked at the man. “Snowdrop?” Brencis said. “What’s that?”

  The livery man pointed at the little white pony. “It’s her name,” he said. “Snowdrop because of the white snowdrop flower.”

  Brencis looked to the little pony in delight, resuming her hugging and petting. Trenton scratched his neck in a reluctant gesture. “I am not entirely certain we are going to be able to leave,” he muttered to the livery man. “My lady seems to be quite fond of Snowdrop.”

  The livery man watched as the little girl petted Snowdrop and the pony tried to nibble on her. “A man gave me the pony in payment for shoeing his palfrey,” he said. “I’ve no real use for her. She eats my food and grows fat. Why not buy her for your daughter? I will give you an excellent price.”

  If Trenton could have throttled the man for saying such a thing in front of Brencis, he would have. The little girl’s eyes lit up and she hugged the pony around the neck so hard that it startled the little beast.

  “I will take the best care of her!” she said, tears already streaming down her face. “I want her and she has no one to love her. She will love me and I will love her. Please… may I have her?”

  Trenton exhaled, long and slow, sensing a losing battle ahead. He knew what his answer was going to be; his only concern was in telling Lysabel that he’d purchased a pony for Brencis. He knew he shouldn’t, and he further knew that she would probably become angry with him, but he thought that it was time to put poor Brencis out of her misery when it came to her love for horses. Clearly, she lived and breathed them, and this little pony needed an owner. A six-year-old owner who would love her more than anything on earth.

  Besides… he was afraid to deny her. As a man who held absolutely no fear, in any arena, the fear of tears from a lonely little girl had him surrendering.

  He was a fool.

  Stepping into the stall, Trenton crouched in front of the weeping girl and the fat, white pony, watching for a moment as Brencis snuggled with the pony “We have a long trip ahead of us,” he said. “It will be a very long trip for a pony with such little legs.”

  He was giving a last-ditch effort to reason with her, but Brencis was beyond reason. She only knew what she wanted.

  “She is strong, I know it,” she insisted, wiping the tears on her cheeks. “I will ride her the whole way. She will not be tired at all because I will be very gentle. I will not make her tired.”

  She sounded so very sincere and Trenton could see that nothing short of an act of God could discourage her. So much for trying to reason with her.

  “Half a crown and the pony is yours,” the livery man said, throwing another nail in the coffin of Trenton’s decision. “I’ll even throw in a bridle and a saddle for the little miss. They came with the pony.”

  Trenton was close to throttling the man again, who was trying hard to seal the deal, but the truth was that the decision was already made. Standing up, he sighed heavily.

  “Do you have another pony?” he asked. “There are two girls. I cannot purchase a pony for one and not the other.”

  The livery man nodded quickly and scurried away. Trenton returned his attention to Brencis as the little girl was now petting the back of the pony, running her fingers through the white hair. He could see how delirious she was. That kind of happiness was foreign to him, so very happy that one could nearly burst with it. Trenton couldn’t even remember when he’d been that happy, or if he’d ever been that happy, and he was wildly envious about it. Perhaps in making Brencis so happy, he was living vicariously through her.

  Was there truly such happiness in all the world?

  As he continued to watch Brencis and her new pony, the livery man appeared again, leading another pony, a fat brown animal that was dark all over except for her flaxen-colored mane and tail. When Trenton turned to look at the animal, the livery man had the pony walk a circle.

  “This little lass belongs to my own daughter, but she doesn’t ride her any longer,” he said. “She’s become too old for her, I fear, so Honey has no one to love her. Will your other little girl love her?”

  Trenton didn’t even know how to answer that, considering he’d be giving the pony to Cynethryn, who hadn’t shown him much warmth since she’d known him. He simply shrugged and dug into his coin purse again, pulling out a couple of coins and handing them over to the livery man.

  “Feed them and brush them, and when we leave in the morning, we shall take them both,” he said. “Include the bridles and blankets and anything else that comes with them.”

  The livery man was thrilled, having offloaded two useless ponies for a tidy sum. As he took Honey back to her stall, Trenton turned to Brencis, who was now standing at the rear of the pony and trying to braid her tail.

  “Well?” he said to her. “Did you hear all of that?”

  Brencis looked up from the tail. “What?”

  “You are now the proud owner of Snowdrop.”

  Brencis blinked. “Me?”

  “You.”

  “She… she is mine?”

  “She is yours.”

  Brencis stared at him a moment before dropping the tail and running to him, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him as tightly as she could. He was so tall, and she was so short, that she ended up embracing his upper thighs, but the message was clear.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she hugged him. “Thank you for my pony. I love you very much.”

  With that, she rushed back to the white pony and hugged the horse’s neck again, squeezing so much that the animal was once again startled. It was clear the pony wasn’t used to all of the attention, but that was going to soon change.

  Trenton was sure of it.

  Little Brencis had thanked him like no one else ever had. I love you very much. He was certain she’d said it only because he’d given her the pony, but he was equally certain she meant every word and that fascinated him. Were there really people in the world who loved so freely and showed emotion so freely? He was seeing a good deal through the eyes of Brencis, a side of the world he’d never really seen before. His world was death and espionage, and that was something he’d learned to guard himself against. But this… this was something he’d never experienced before.

  He thought he could get used to it.

  “Now that you know she is yours, you will bid her a good eve,” he said. “We must return to your mother and tell her what we have done.”

  Brencis looked at him, rather fearfully. “You will not let her give my pony back, will you?”

  “Nay. It is my gift t
o you.”

  She seemed relieved. “And my father? You will not let him take it away?”

  He could hear the fear in her voice and he felt a stab of rage that was unexpected. He could hardly imagine this lovely, sensitive child subjected to Benoit’s horrific behavior. Shaking his head, he held out a hand to her.

  “Nay, lass,” he said quietly. “I will not let him take it away. Come along, now. We must go.”

  With the promise that the pony was hers – truly hers – Brencis separated herself from her new pet somewhat easily. Her gaze still on the white pony, she took Trenton’s hand and let him take her from the stable, but she wouldn’t take her eyes off the pony until she could no longer see it. Outside the livery, sunset was beginning to fall and the dark clouds overhead had obliterated the sky, and the smell of rain was in the air.

  With Brencis in hand, Trenton hurriedly made his way down the road until he came to a sign that said The Greene and The Glory. A small, two-storied building was attached to it and he pushed his way inside, coming into a small common room that was crowded with people, including Lysabel, Cynethryn, and Markus.

  It was warm and fragrant in the tavern, with contrasting smells of baking bread and spilled ale, and as Trenton carefully planned out what to tell Lysabel, Brencis had no such restraint. She ran to her mother, threw herself into the woman’s arms, and announced that she now had a pony named Snowdrop.

  With the secret out, Trenton had no choice but to confess what he’d done and plead for forgiveness if necessary. He tried to make it sound as if the pony would be thrown out into the wild had he not purchased it, making it appear as if he had little choice in the matter, but he could tell by Lysabel’s expression that she didn’t believe him. But he could also see that she, too, couldn’t deny Brencis. The little girl finally had what she wanted and there was no curbing her excitement.