Chapter 11

Em shook her head. “If you keep that up you will wear a path in the carpet,” she chuckled, watching her sister. “I know it is raining out, but surely there is something you can find to do to distract yourself from whatever is eating at you.”

“A sparring practice is what I need,” ground out Kay in frustration. “Unfortunately, my partner seems a bit rounder than usual right now.”

Em patted her abdomen in satisfaction. “I am, and I am very happy to be so,” she agreed. “I can always spar in a few years, once I have begun the family properly.”

Kay turned and headed back down the length of the room again. “If only this cursed rain would let up. It was fine this morning … but look at it now!”

Em smiled fondly at her sister. “If only there were a practice sword in the keep somewhere, so you could work out your frustrations without leaving the building.”

Kay frowned. “The moment I headed into the guard area, one or both of the men would be after me to see what I was up to, and where would that leave me?”

Em shook her head. “I was thinking of a pair of wooden swords, in the basement.”

Kay looked up, her eyes brightening. “Do you think they are still down there?”

Her sister shrugged her shoulders. “There is only one way to find out …”

Kay did not wait for her to finish the thought. She made her way quickly to the door, almost skipping down the stairs, down to the pantry level. Reese was standing in the guard room, talking with Jevan, but she barely saw them as she passed through. She turned left before the workroom, moving to the sturdy wooden door.

With an effort she pushed the massive door open, reaching to the ledge on the right to pull the torch off its hook. She lit it on the storeroom’s main fire, and then returned to the cellar door and made her way down the musty stairs into the large room below. She went from torch to torch, creating a ring of light around the cluttered room.

The basement stretched perhaps the whole length and width of the main hall two floors above it, and the walls were lined with shelves and boxes of supplies. The central area was kept open and well swept. She and her sister had spent many wonderful hours down here playing together, sparring with each other, practicing while their parents held dinners and social gatherings above. It was their secret retreat, their hideaway from the world. And their swords were normally tucked …

Kay dug into the lowest shelf on the back wall, and her heart leapt in delight. The brown sack was still there, the familiar two shapes nestled within. She pulled them out and laid them on a nearby crate. The wooden swords were proportioned for their height, but were in all other ways identical to the practice swords used by the men upstairs. She traced her hands down the blades with a smile. One had a “K” carved into it, the other an “M”. The workmanship was exquisite, and she still remembered clearly when Leland had presented the swords to the sisters several years ago.

She picked up her sword, whirled it around her head for a moment, and a blanket of calm eased over her. This is what she needed. She moved from one guard to another, relishing the security of the sword in her hand, relaxing with the sure sequence of movements. A deflection for a high attack. A counter-cut when both swords were high. The turning thrust. She was safe, she was secure, she was in control. She went through her practice moves and she could feel the tension melting from her shoulders. A twisting leap …

Her foot landed on a loose ball of twine and she stumbled slightly, landing with her sword hard against the outer wall. The noise rang out in a strange, hollow fashion.

She drew to a stop, confused.

She walked forward toward the wall, putting a hand out to it. The stone was the same cool, grey stone which made up most of the keep structure. It felt just as solid and real as any other stone making up the bones of this building.

She struck it again, and again there was a hollow ring to it. An almost echo.

She moved along the wall, striking as she went, and in most places the wall was sturdy, the noise dying out almost instantly. But not here. Not for about five feet on the side which faced the ocean.

She put the sword down on the crate, and took the stairs two at a time. Maybe Leland would know about this. He had spent many years out at the keep with her father, and undoubtedly the two had talked about the work done on the keep. Could these be the tunnels he had mentioned earlier?

She flung open the cellar door - and ran headlong into Reese’s chest. The tankard of ale he was carrying splashed full across her dress, soaking her thoroughly.

“Kay!” he cried out in surprise. “What in the world -”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him back down the stairs. “Never mind that,” she responded, drawing him to the bottom and across the room. “What do you make of that?”

He glanced down at the two wooden swords, picking up the one closest to him, engraved with the letter “K”. “These are very fine quality,” he commented with curiosity. “Quite well made.” He glanced at the other one. “K? M? Do these belong to the two sisters?”

Kay flushed crimson, and turned her face, hoping the torchlight hid her reaction. “Yes,” she agreed. “Keren-happuch sent me down to fetch them. She wanted to put them safely in her room, to keep them out of harm’s way.”

She grabbed the sword out of his hand, forestalling further investigation, and then swung it hard at the wall. That odd echoing noise sounded throughout the room again. Reese’s head swiveled immediately, distracted from the swords, staring at the grey stone.

“Do that again,” he asked, focusing intensely.

Kay complied, striking harder, and again the sound echoed through the room with a hollow reverberation.

Reese picked up the other sword, and as she had done previously, he began moving along the wall. He struck the stone in various locations, narrowing down the area of interest. Finally he stepped back, staring at the wall.

“About five feet wide,” he mused, “and clearly different from the surrounding structure.”

“Maybe it is the tunnels Leland spoke of!” enthused Kay.

Reese turned to look at her in confusion. “What tunnels?”

Kay smiled. “Old smuggling tunnels,” she confided. “Leland said that … Lord Weston … had them filled in long ago – at least the ones he could find. They were a legacy from Lord Weston’s grandfather and his fear of being trapped in the keep without a way to get out.”

Reese gave another hard rap to the wall. “It sounds like this one, at least, was not fully filled in.” His eyes roamed the wall, and suddenly he dropped to one knee, brushing at the stone. “What is this? Maybe a note about the tunnel?”

“What, let me see,” insisted Kay, and she dropped to her knees besides him.

He pointed at a carving in the grey stone.

Kay looked at the stone, and then rocked back, flushing even more deeply. She had forgotten about that.

There, carved into the stone over ten years ago, was a crudely shaped heart. She had done that over the course of several years, making the lines deeper and deeper, leaving her mark on her sanctuary. Within the heart was “Kay”, and then a plus sign, and below it … nothing.

“That … that was me,” she admitted quietly.

Reese brushed away more of the dirt, and suddenly he was silent. The moment stretched on. Finally, he commented quietly, “I suppose you were interrupted before you could write in the name of your true love.”

Kay shook her head, staring again at the carven heart. She could feel the angst and hope and dreams of those years, of coming down to stare at the heart, to wish against all odds …

“No,” she responded in a whisper.

“I do not understand …”

Kay reached out a hand, and ran her finger along the edge of the heart. “There was never anyone,” she admitted, and she echoed with the pain as she put it into words. “There was no man who loved this place as much as I did, who I could trust to stand by my side, to stay with me, to defend its walls with the passion I felt.” Her shoulders hunched. “There was never anyone.”

She drew her hand back, staring at the heart. “I always hoped that someday, somehow, I would find a man who was content with this rocky corner of the world, who was content with -” Her throat closed up, and she could not continue.

“Content with you,” finished Reese quietly.

Kay found she could only nod in agreement.

Reese was silent for a long moment. He glanced up at the wall before them, then gave himself a small shake. “Maybe we should let Galeron know of this, for his notes to shore up the keep -”

“No!” cried out Kay, grabbing at his arm. He stilled instantly, turning to look at her.

“Not this,” insisted Kay, knowing her feeling was irrational, but she could not stop herself. “I do not want Galeron to see this.”

Reese nodded slowly. “As you wish,” he agreed. He stood, and offered his hand down to her.

She took it, drew herself up to be by his side, but she could not bring herself to release his fingers from hers, to release the warm touch of his hand in hers.

It was Reese who finally broke the spell. “Do not forget the swords Keren-happuch sent you for,” he reminded her. “Undoubtedly she hopes to give her sister, Mary Magdalene, hers back as well.” He reached over and picked up the pair of wooden weapons. “K and M,” he read, handed them to her.

Kay nodded, then moved through the room, putting out the torches, before heading back up the stairs toward the light.