Chapter 18

Buoyed up by his success, Wolfram decided to take a horse and go searching for Ellen Good on his day off. The malaise left by Robin and Julia's deaths felt like it was finally clearing. He'd recovered from his injuries, proven his swordsmanship, and while the future of the castle remained murky, he didn't believe it was without hope. Lord Erik had several well-trained men now, more than enough to challenge Aldrich's thugs. The problem was Ingrid. She continued to push for her engagement to Lord Ricaud, insisting that there was no other way to set Elkinshire's finances to rights. Dunstan and Father Everwin counselled otherwise. They, like Wolfram, saw that the castle now had the manpower to assert the baron's will by force, and Robin's death had galvanised them to take a stronger stance against the extortionists. But Ingrid, in a sickeningly genuine affectation of gentleness, played the part of the peacekeeper, even going so far as to protest that Julia wouldn't have wanted the shire to be ruled by violence. With his wife gone, Erik had no other kin but his daughter by his side, and so it was her voice that he listened to. Wolfram could only imagine what other manipulations Ingrid was whispering into his ear when they were alone in the solar.

The wind was roaring through the trees when Wolfram went out to fetch a horse from the stable. Flecks of cold rain were already beginning to sting his face, hinting at a coming storm. When he asked for a mount, the stable master flatly refused.

"Not today. This wind's only going to get worse. You'll blow right off the path on your way down."

"Oh, come on," Wolfram pressed. "No gale can knock over a horse."

"Either way, this rain's going to make the path slippery. Might be ice by the time you get back. I'll not risk it. I'm sorry, Wolf. You'll have to go riding next week."

"I'll never get to look for Ellen at this rate," Wolfram told Lavender later on in the kitchen. "If it's not one thing, it's another."

Lavender took her hands out of a bowl of flour, little white swirls dancing from her fingertips as she signed: "You will, eventually."

"Maybe I can check on the cottage instead. It's really blowing out there. It wouldn't surprise me if the roof comes off."

"I'll come with you."

"Oh no you won't," Meg cut in. "Yes, I see you lovebirds chattering away in your secret language. Everyone's going to be in the hall tonight with weather like this. I need you here to make sure there's supper for all of them. Lord knows how I got anything done while you were away."

Wolfram's face warmed when Meg called them lovebirds. Rumours had been circulating ever since his return. Normally, an unwed man and woman sharing a house for weeks on end would have been scandalous. It was only because of Ingrid's insistence that it had been allowed in the first place. Wolfram's injuries, and the fact that most people saw Lavender as an invalid, had subdued the usual gossipmongering, but Meg and a few others had noticed their closeness.

It was true that Wolfram did enjoy spending time with her. When he wasn't training or working, there was no place he'd rather be than in the kitchen talking to Lavender. Yet still, he resisted the urge to think of her as anything more than a friend. He didn't like joining in with the squires' conversations about girls anymore. All talk of romance made him uncomfortable. It kept drawing him back to his foolish infatuation with Ingrid and the horrible night that had ended it all. That was something he wanted to shut away and never think about again. When he was out in the courtyard with a weapon in his hand, he felt confident and sure of himself. When thought about love, he felt like a kicked puppy.

As if reading his thoughts, Meg clicked her tongue and shuffled back to the ovens. "Alright, alright. If it turns you red as a poppy, I'll look the other way."

The roof creaked suddenly as a mighty gust rattled the timbers. Lavender started, gripping Wolfram's arm and leaving a handprint of flour on his sleeve.

"Imagine how bad it must be outside the castle," Wolfram said when the gust died down. "I wouldn't want to be a farmer tonight."

"It's worse up here," Lavender signed. "Wind blows harder on top of hills."

"I'm going to check the cottage, then. I'll bring back the blankets and anything else we left out there."

"Be careful."

Wolfram smiled. "I won't blow away."

He was glad the stable master had denied his request when he went outside. If ever there was a gale that could knock over a horse, it was this one. The sky was dark grey, making it look like night was falling even though it was still early. Wolfram had to turn into the wind and put his head down, leaning into it so he wasn't pushed backwards. His cloak whipped and snapped behind him, tugging the clasp tight against his chest. When he looked over the castle wall, he saw fir trees heaving in the gale, their heavy trunks dancing like blades of grass. He wondered how they could stay standing in such weather.

He passed by Dunstan, who was helping the stable master get the horses inside, and asked: "Do you think any of the trees will blow down?"

"I'd wager a gold crown on it," Dunstan yelled over the wind. "We'll be chopping them off the castle walls tomorrow."

That sounded like a satisfying day's work to Wolfram. He liked the idea of shimmying up a fallen tree and hacking off branches. He headed out of the castle, making his way down the path where the trees shielded him from the wind until he reached the cottage. The gale wasn't as bad with the heavy undergrowth breaking up the gusts, but a few strands of thatch still jittered wildly on the cottage roof. Wolfram decided to err on the side of caution and untied the rope holding the door shut. There were some rolled blankets inside that he and Lavender used when they ate supper here. He gathered them up along with a couple of cooking utensils and made his way back to the castle. When he reached the courtyard, he stopped, joining a knot of people who had gathered outside the stable. They were staring at a pair of trees that sprouted over the top of the north wall where the hill dropped down next to the cesspit. They were yawing wildly in the wind, branches creaking and cracking as if they were about to tear loose at any moment.

"Those two are gone," a stablehand named Edmund said.

"It doesn't look like they'll hit the wall, at least," Wolfram replied.

"No, they grow right out of the hillside. They'll drop down somewhere below. Hope nobody's taking a stroll down there."

"Not in this weather." Wolfram stayed to watch, entranced by the spectacle. There was something mesmerising about seeing the raw force of the elements at work, knowing that roots were about to tear and branches splinter with nothing to be done about it. It was a few minutes before the first tree went. It seemed to drop suddenly, hang for a moment, and then follow the wind to one side as it plummeted out of sight behind the castle wall. Lord Erik, who had been making his way from the kitchen to the latrine, stopped in his tracks as the sound of rattling branches gave way to a muffled crash. A second crash followed, this one more distant, then nothing more.

"We'll have to go up the wall and see where it landed tomorrow," Edmund said.

Wolfram nodded, still watching the remaining tree. There was no question of climbing the wall right now. The battlements were low, and they had a reputation for crumbling when people leaned on them. The top of the north wall looked like a mouth full of worn-down teeth.

It wasn't long before the second tree followed. Wolfram was shivering in the wind, but he didn't want to go inside until the spectacle was over. This time the sound of tearing roots was audible all the way across the courtyard. The tree's position shifted abruptly, followed by a distant rattling noise like an avalanche of pebbles.

"Here it goes," Wolfram said. The next time the wind gusted, the tree lurched out of sight. Then the whole wall moved. The sight was so alien to Wolfram that he didn't understand what was happening at first. A roar of falling earth and rock sounded from the far side of the wall as its stones sagged outwards two-thirds of the way along. The old mortar split apart as the rubble core began to tumble free, dragging more stones along with it until an entire section of the battlements caved in.

"Oh, God," Wolfram said, taking a step forward as he stared in horror. The tree's roots must have disturbed the ground near the wall's foundation. Now the old stones were crashing like thunder as they fell down the hill, the wall twisting outward and inward in two different directions at once. Most of the masonry went over the edge of the hill, but towards the castle's northeastern corner it began plummeting into the courtyard. Wolfram's heart leapt with fear as a huge stone fell, rolled, and smashed one of the corners off the wellhouse. Another cascade of masonry followed, demolishing the pantry and the eastern end of the kitchen in an instant. A cry of anguish burst from Wolfram's throat as he ran forward. Lavender and the others were in there! He stopped short before his haste got the better of him, realising he would be killed if he went near the wall while it was still collapsing. An enormous v-shaped hole had opened up in the stonework, spanning from the midpoint to the cesspit at the east corner. The keep at the west end of the wall had survived untouched, but the kitchen building was in shambles. Some of the falling stones had punched holes in the roof, but most had rolled into the back wall and smashed it apart, causing the structure to slump downwards at one end like a flattened loaf.

Wolfram could still hear stones rattling down the hillside, but he couldn't wait any longer. He dropped his bundle and ran towards what had once been the kitchen door. The frame still stood, but the door itself had been smashed to splinters when a heavy roof beam fell across it. Wolfram ducked beneath the beam and coughed as a mouthful of dust and smoke entered his lungs. He could hear people calling out in confusion to his left. Someone was wailing in pain. If Lavender was hurt, she wouldn't be able to call for help.

Trying not to panic, Wolfram stumbled his way forward, keeping his head low to avoid the sagging ceiling that sloped across this part of the building. It was hard to see anything with so much smoke and dust in the air. Glowing coals from the cooking hearth had scattered all over the floor, sparking murky fires where they'd found things to ignite

"Who's hurt?" he called into the fog. When no one answered him, he hurried forward, kicking burning coals out of his way as he made for the undamaged end of the building. "Meg? Are you in here?"

A plump hand grabbed his arm.

"Wolf, oh hell and heavens!"

"Was anyone in the pantry?"

"I don't think so."

Now that his eyes were adjusting, Wolfram could see some of the kitchen servants near the keep passageway. The woman crying in pain was being helped to her feet by the others. From the way she was clutching her arm, it looked like it was broken. There was no sign of Lavender.

"Where's Lavender?" he asked, fighting his rising fear.

"What?"

"Cat!" Wolfram had to shout to be heard. The wind was still shaking the roof hard, and with the building damaged, he suspected there was a very real chance of it collapsing completely.

Meg went to the others, touching each of their shoulders in turn as they helped their injured companion into the passageway.

"She's not here. Her and Grace. Oh, I think they were down the other end!" There was disbelief in her voice. Wolfram didn't want to believe it either, but he knew he had to act fast if there was any hope of saving them.

"Go and get some help," he told Meg, then covered his mouth with his cloak and hurried back into the smoky, dusty collapse. While the walls of the kitchen were stone, the roof was a wooden vault covered in slate tiles. The beams had fallen in when the wall came down, jutting in all directions as they propped up bits of the ceiling like stilts beneath a misshapen stage. Wolfram climbed over a fallen beam, navigating via a shaft of light that shone through a tear in the roof. He had to duck down to go any further. A fallen tile snapped beneath his boot. One of the beams shifted unsettlingly when he put his hand against it. He drew back, fearing that the ceiling might come down on him. When it didn't, he edged forward again. A banging noise drew his attention to the left. He'd been hearing it for a while now, but he'd assumed it was the rattle of falling tiles or more debris from the wall. But this noise was steady and rhythmic, and it was coming from within the kitchen. He got down on his hands and knees and peered beneath a beam that had fallen diagonally against the collapsed wall.

There, hunched beside a pile of rubble, was Lavender, one of her boots clutched in her hand as she rapped the heel on the floor. Her fearful eyes stared back at Wolfram as he crawled closer, pressing his body flat against the floor to reach her. There was no time for his relief to register. Lavender was trapped in a hunched position, her shoulders pushing up against a beam that had toppled against the rubble. From the way it was shifting, it looked like it would fall the second she moved.

Wolfram held out his hand to her. "Do you think you can get out?"

She shook her head rapidly. There was just enough light for Wolfram to make out the sign she made with her fingers: "Not me." She pointed beneath her elbow into the space behind her. Wolfram edged closer and saw another person trapped in the collapse. It was Grace.

"Is she alive?"

"I don't know."

There was no way Lavender could move without the beam crushing Grace. Her shoulders were shaking with the effort, her expression pained and her breathing laboured. Wolfram squeezed himself into the space beside her and took the weight of the beam on his shoulder. There was a rattling sound as the roof shifted above them.

"Let me take the weight," Wolfram said. "See if you can pull Grace out past me.

Lavender gripped his thigh for support as she worked her body out of the cramped space, struggling to get herself free without disturbing the wreckage any further. The full length of the beam pressed down on Wolfram's shoulders. Its weight drove a huff of breath from his lungs, but he braced his knees and pushed back.

Unable to guide him verbally, Lavender tugged at his arms and legs, adjusting his position until she had room to squeeze past and get hold of Grace's shoulders. Supporting the other woman's head with one arm, she hooked the other around her torso and wiggled backwards through the gap between Wolfram's legs.

"Take her to the other end of the kitchen," Wolfram said. "You'll be safe in the passageway."

Lavender shook her head, unwilling to leave him. She grabbed a loose stone from the fallen wall and pushed it across the floor, wedging it beneath the low end of the beam. The support took a little strain off Wolfram's muscles, but it wasn't enough for him to let go.

A sudden clamour of voices broke out on the other side of the wreckage.

"Who's in here? Does anyone need help?"

"Over here!" Wolfram yelled. "Be careful! Don't touch anything, or the roof will fall!"

A face appeared behind Lavender. It was Edmund the stablehand. He reached forward and helped Lavender lift Grace free of the wreckage. Dunstan and another man crawled into the low space alongside Wolfram.

"Is there anyone else in here?" Dunstan asked.

"No, just Lavender and Grace."

"That beam's going to fall. Hold it a moment longer. The rest of you, get clear!" Dunstan began following Lavender's example, collecting stones small enough to wedge beneath the fallen beam so there would be something to support it when Wolfram let go. Wolfram's muscles were burning by the time he was done. Carefully, he lowered his shoulders a fraction of an inch. He felt some greater weight shifting at the other end of the beam, but there was no rattle of rubble or groaning wood. Dunstan backed away and held out a hand to him. Wolfram grasped it, then lowered his shoulders until the piled stones took the weight of the beam. He gave Dunstan a nod, and with a mighty heave, he pulled him out of the cramped space. Wolfram's knees skidded through broken tiles and powdered mortar as the roof sagged behind him. They wasted no time seeing whether the pile of stones would hold. Staggering to their feet, they hurried back through the mess of fallen beams until they reached the far end of the kitchen. Lavender and the others had Grace sitting upright against the wall. She looked dazed and in pain, but her eyes were open. When Lavender saw Wolfram, she threw her arms around him.

"Everyone out," Dunstan barked. "It isn't safe in here."

Wolfram squeezed Lavender against his chest. She felt so slight in his arms. He was amazed she'd been able to hold the beam as long as she did. The others had doused the scattered coals, so there was no more risk of the building igniting. The group made their way down the passageway to the keep where a small crowd tended the injured. There were several cuts, bruises, and a couple of broken bones, but by some miracle no one had been killed.

Lavender was still clinging to Wolfram when they reached the great hall. Her dark hair was covered in a powder of yellowish-grey mortar dust. Wolfram expected he looked much the same. People were staring, but he didn't want to let go of her. After the shock of what had just happened, he needed her comfort. He needed to hold her in his arms and remind himself that she was still alive. From the way she was holding him, she felt the same way. When the stones fell on the kitchen, Wolfram had felt like the world was slipping out from under him, threatening another bereavement like Robin and Julia all over again. But Lavender was still here. They still had each other.

A stir of commotion drew Wolfram's attention to the main door. The drapes flew aside as the rest of the stablers came in carrying a body on a large cloak. He was breathing, but there was blood on his tunic, and when they set him down he let out a miserably weak groan of pain.

It was Lord Erik.