Chapter 20

Wolfram didn't believe for a second that Lord Erik had consented to any of this. Ingrid must have taken advantage of his bedridden state to start making decisions by herself. With Aldrich and his cronies replacing Erik's loyal men, there would be no one left in the castle who could reasonably challenge her. She'd worked fast. How long had she been planning this? Since her father's injury? Or had she moved to take advantage of the situation the moment she realised Dunstan was gone? Wolfram's skin itched with irritation as the others dismounted and removed their mail.

"You can't leave, Dunstan."

"Then what should I do?" the older man muttered back at him. "Break down the gate and throw Aldrich off the battlements?"

Wolfram liked that idea more than he cared to admit, but he knew it was foolish. "What'll you do?"

"We'll have to stay in the village." Dunstan gripped Wolfram's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You need to speak with the baron. Get him to put a stop to this."

Wolfram glanced up at Ingrid and Aldrich on the wall. "I don't think it's going to be that easy, but I'll try."

They were interrupted by the sound of the gates creaking open, revealing half a dozen of Aldrich's men wearing shiny new mail and the black-and-red surcoats of Elkinshire.

"Bring in the horses," Ingrid called.

Wolfram exchanged one last look with Dunstan before taking the bridle of his instructor's horse. He felt like he was stepping into a wolf's den as he walked through the gate. His gut told him to defy Ingrid and leave with Dunstan, but he didn't know what that would achieve. Their best hope now was to speak with Lord Erik.

Once all the squires were inside, they handed their horses to the stablers and waited in a line. Ingrid and Aldrich came down from the wall to address them. Most of the young men looked humbled, like disobedient children caught out by their parents, but Wolfram refused to be cowed by Ingrid's stern gaze.

"Unlike Dunstan, you are not hired soldiers," she said. "You are valued wards of this house. Yours are positions of honour and privilege. In exchange for your service, you shall have estates and titles of your own someday. For the most loyal among you, that day may come very soon indeed." Her eyes lingered on Wolfram. "But there must be no more disobedience. From now on, Aldrich Merchant will serve as my father's marshal. You are to do as he says. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lady," Gavin said. Most of the others chorused their agreement. Wolfram remained silent. He was reeling at how quickly Ingrid had moved to stamp out dissent among the squires. She'd dangled the temptation of land and knighthood in front of them before they'd had so much as a chance to discuss what just happened. And by implying that only the loyal would receive their titles, she'd sown fresh new seeds of competition. Not everyone would blindly accept these radical changes, but enough of them would. Wolfram had been mulling the idea of rallying his friends and forcibly demanding an audience with Lord Erik, but that seemed unlikely now. Those willing to rock the boat would be outnumbered by those who weren't.

"Is that the money from my father's vassals?" Ingrid said, pointing to the box on the back of Dunstan's horse.

"Yes, my lady," Wolfram answered.

Aldrich stepped forward and unfastened the box, giving it an experimental rattle before handing it to one of his men.

"Aldrich will be taking that money in repayment for the most generous loan his mother has provided to repair our wall," Ingrid said, gesturing in the direction of the collapse. A group of builders had appeared and were already constructing a scaffold. "What are you doing here?" She asked Ellen Good.

"I'm Ellen Good, milady. You might recall I tended your stepmother a few months ago. I was told your father needed a healer."

Wolfram held his breath as Ingrid's eyes narrowed.

"My father is well cared for. Your services are not required."

"Might I stay in the bailey all the same? Carpenters and masons always have spare pennies for a wise woman during projects like this."

"Very well, as long as you keep them hard at work."

Wolfram let out his breath. Ingrid didn't suspect anything. Ellen took her pony to the stable and the squires broke off one by one to go inside. Aldrich put a hand on Wolfram's arm to stop him when he turned to leave.

"Lady Ingrid wants a word with you," he said. Wolfram stared at him, itching to make some scathing remark. For once he was glad he wasn't sharp-tongued and quick-witted, for it would have done him no good to speak his mind at a time like this. Aldrich gave him a smile that seemed almost genuine. "We had a rough start, but it's all settled now, isn't it? You did me a bad turn, and I did the same back to you. I think we're even."

"You murdered my friend," Wolfram said under his breath.

"Not I. That was Dominic Ward, and he hanged for it." Aldrich let go and tapped his index finger deliberately against Wolfram's chest. "It's all in the past. I'm willing to start afresh. If I were you, I'd start thinking the same way."

Wolfram wanted to tell him to go to hell, but he forced himself to say nothing. Aldrich clapped him on the shoulder and sauntered off after the squires, leaving Wolfram alone with Lady Ingrid.

"Would you walk with me?" she asked, extending a gloved hand. A few months ago, Wolfram would have leapt at the opportunity to feel her delicate fingers grasping his arm. Now the thought of her touch repulsed him. It seemed like silence was still his best option, so he mutely offered his arm, and she took it.

"It feels like an age since we last talked," Ingrid said with a contented sigh. "I hope you and Aldrich will be able to get along. It breaks my heart every time the two of you are at odds."

"Of course, my lady."

Ingrid gave him a warm smile. "My loyal wolf. I told him you wouldn't be any trouble."

Any further discomfort on Wolfram's part was forestalled by a sudden realisation: Ingrid was too good at believing her lies. She still saw him as a stupid dog she could keep at heel. Why wouldn't she? She'd cowed him into silence about Robin and Julia, and he'd caused no trouble for her since. As much as it shamed Wolfram to admit it, it was the greatest advantage he had against her right now. Ingrid wouldn't think a dumb mutt capable of plotting with Ellen Good to expose her. He knew he was no genius, but the last few months had given him a fresh perspective on things. He needed to play along.

"I wouldn't want to upset you, my lady."

"It makes me very happy to hear you say that. You know I've always been very fond of you."

"So you always say." Wolfram hoped he was being convincing. He'd never engaged in such a grand lie before, especially not one that warred against everything he believed in. But Robin had told him that the best lies often came from a kernel of truth, and that gave him an idea. "Did you mean what you said about some of us gaining our knighthoods soon?"

"Of course. My poor father is in ailing health, but once I am wed many things will change. Our family will have new wealth and new land. I will find some of that land just for you, my dear Wolfram."

"I'd be very grateful."

"I thought you might. You needn't worry about a thing. Aldrich and his men will be your new brothers-in-arms, and I shall be your lady. We'll have the kitchen and the wall rebuilt stronger than ever." She gazed across the courtyard with a look of satisfaction. "Everything will be just as it should." Her face was sweet and serene, her eyes shining with optimism. She really believed it. Were all the people she'd hurt just memories she could sweep away like dirt under a rug? "Will you attend me in my chamber tonight? I would love to share a cup of wine with you over a few board games."

Playing along was one thing, but Wolfram didn't think he could stomach a friendly evening in Ingrid's room. He remembered the last time they'd been alone together and where that had led.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company. It's been two long days of riding. I'd probably fall asleep after my first sip of wine."

Ingrid laughed. "Very well. Another time, then?"

"Of course, my lady."

Wolfram prayed he would get the chance to speak with Lord Erik before then.

No one was allowed to see the baron without Ingrid's permission. He'd been moved out of his bedchamber into a room at the far end of the solar near the door that led to the top of the lavender wall. That way, none of the servants had any reason to look in when they passed by. One of Aldrich's men stood guard day and night. Even Father Everwin, to his great outrage, was only permitted fleeting visits to check on his patient.

The priest confided this to Wolfram in the chapel two days after his return. It was one of the few places Aldrich's men rarely ventured. The pair of them knelt side by side before the altar, Everwin wringing a heavy signet ring on his finger.

"Lady Ingrid and Petra are the baron's nurses now," he explained. "Normally I wouldn't complain. Lord Erik is healing well. But he sleeps constantly, and even when he's awake he is barely lucid. It's because they insist on giving him his sleeping root with every meal."

"He can't object to Ingrid's decisions if he's asleep," Wolfram said.

"I fear so. I can't believe she's doing this. She was always an enigmatic young woman, but to usurp her father!" His voice had grown loud, and he had to stifle himself before continuing. "I am thinking of going to the count of Tannersfield with my concerns. I can't stay silent if this continues."

"I wouldn't blame you, Father."

The atmosphere in the castle had become cloying since Wolfram's return. All the servants were walking on eggshells. Aldrich's men acted like they owned the place, getting in everyone's way during the day and turning the great hall into a rowdy alehouse at night. Thus far, Ingrid and Aldrich had kept them in check, but they still got away with far too much. Lord Erik would never have stood for it.

"Would you ride with me as my escort?" Everwin asked.

"I don't want to leave the castle," Wolfram said. "We just need to get to Lord Erik while he's lucid. The second we tell him what's happening, he'll put a stop to it. If he orders Aldrich and his men out of the castle, the other squires will help me get rid of them."

"If you'd seen the state the baron is in, you'd know that's easier said than done. Our poor lord is not himself. It isn't just his injuries or the sleeping root. He's losing all of his vigour. He's like an old man resigned to his deathbed. It's little wonder Ingrid can persuade him of anything she wants."

Wolfram stared at the altar, wondering how much he could confide in the priest. Until now, he'd believed that Father Everwin's loyalty to the noble family would prevent him from accepting the truth about Lady Julia's murder, but recent events seemed to have shaken his faith.

"Can I confess something to you, Father?"

"I already feel like enough of a conspirator that one more confession cannot hurt."

In hushed tones, Wolfram told him what he'd seen Petra doing the night of Julia's death. He explained how he'd gone to the village to confront Ingrid, and why he'd lied about the circumstances of Robin's death afterwards. The only part he left out was what had happened in the bedroom. When he finished, Father Everwin didn't speak for a long time.

"Do you believe me?" Wolfram asked.

"I don't believe someone like you would concoct such an elaborate lie."

"I want to bring Ellen to see Lord Erik so she can tell him the truth. If anything can rouse him from his stupor, it's this. I don't know if he'd believe mine and Ellen's word alone, but he trusts you. The three of us together might stand a chance."

Everwin nodded. Wolfram was relieved to have an intelligent man on his side. He felt like he'd been floundering for the past few days, success slipping further beyond his reach as Ingrid and Aldrich tightened their grip on the castle.

After a moment's contemplation, Everwin said: "We would need Petra's confession. Erik has always been a stubborn man. Even when good sense stares him in the face, he prefers to keep hold of his convictions. An emotional plea from a woman, however, has a habit of slipping past his guard. That's why Julia and Ingrid were his closest confidants, and his wife before them. If we can make Petra confess and throw herself upon his mercy, I think he might be swayed."

"I wish we could be certain."

"The hearts of men are never certain, but we must have faith that Lord Erik will do what is right. Even if he believes Ingrid is innocent of murder, his doubts may be enough to keep him from naming her his heir."

"We'll have to pick our moment."

Everwin nodded. "Do nothing rash. Petra often comes here to pray. I expect her guilty conscience weighs heavily on her. I will encourage her to confess and face judgement if she wishes to be free of it. Then, when the time is right, we will take her and the midwife to see Lord Erik."

"If you need anything from me, just say the word. I'm not much for schemes, but I can deal with men like Aldrich."

Father Everwin placed his hand on Wolfram's shoulder and made a sign of blessing. "Loyalty is not always a virtue. In many men, it can be wickedly misplaced. But you embody the virtue it should be, Wolfram. I will sleep easier knowing you are my paladin."

It was difficult for Wolfram to find peace of mind while he waited. The routines of castle life had been overturned. Like the collapse of the north wall, something permanent had been shattered, and life could not return to normal until it was repaired. He felt sure that within the next few weeks, either order would be restored to the Lavender Castle, or he would no longer find himself living there. Putting up with Ingrid was one thing, but Aldrich and his men were unbearable. They trained with the squires at first, Aldrich taking the lead, but he was no teacher, and his men lacked the discipline to commit themselves to the routines. They preferred boisterous sparring which inevitably devolved into boredom within an hour or two. When they realised that Wolfram and the older squires were leagues ahead of them in martial skill, they stopped training with them and started picking on the younger lads. The morning routines quickly fell apart after that. Wolfram and some of the others continued going through the exercises on their own, but without Dunstan to yell at them, it no longer felt like real training.

Without his morning routine to keep him busy, Wolfram found himself with a great deal of free time on his hands. Every day he waited patiently to hear from Father Everwin, but the priest was a cautious man, and he preferred to bide his time. On one of his visits to Firfallow, Wolfram learned that Dunstan and the other men-at-arms were staying at a public house working odd jobs for the villagers. Dunstan said they would wait there till the end of the month, but if the situation at the castle hadn't improved by then, they would have to seek employment elsewhere.

One windy evening about a week after Aldrich's arrival, Wolfram sat at the edge of the damaged north wall looking down at the builders. They'd constructed a sloping series of scaffolds up the hillside, each tier layered with planks so they could work on the wall and its foundations without falling. Earth and rubble were still being removed from the place where the second tree had torn loose. Once the builders had determined the extent of the damage to the foundations, they would be able to put together a proper repair plan. The wind tugged at Wolfram's hair as he watched a labourer wheel a barrow down a precarious board that led from the lowest scaffold to the path around the cesspit. Watching the builders was one of the few things that could distract him these days. Aldrich and his men rarely came out here, and there was a methodical rhythm to the work that entranced Wolfram.

A light pinch on his shoulder snapped him back to reality. He turned and saw Lavender standing there. She could creep up on him like a mouse when she wanted to.

"Come away," she signed with a frown.

"I'm not going to fall."

"If the wind can blow down a tree, it can blow down you."

Wolfram didn't like her to worry, so he did as he was told. He'd kept his conversations with Father Everwin to himself so far, but Lavender had noticed something was on his mind, and it seemed like she was in the mood to confront him about it.

"I'm worried," she signed.

"I think everybody is. No one likes this."

"I'm worried for you . You're going to do something."

"How did you guess?"

She gave him a wry look. "You're you."

Wolfram sighed. "And you know me so well." He looked around to make sure nobody was within earshot, then said: "Father Everwin and I want to get Petra to confess to Lord Erik. Between her, Ellen Good, and the two of us, we think he might listen."

"If he doesn't, he'll throw you out of the castle."

"Well, that might be better than staying." The hurt look Lavender gave him provoked a sudden tug at his heart. He stepped forward and took her hands in his. "Come with me. We'll stay with my parents. You could work in my mother's kitchen."

Lavender shook her head and pulled away. "This is my home."

"Would you want to stay, even with Ingrid and Aldrich in charge?"

"I won't leave Meg."

The tug in Wolfram's chest grew stronger. The thought of leaving had seemed simple a few moments ago, but now he was impossibly torn. Despite everything, Elkinshire had become his home, too. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to say goodbye to Lavender. She was the beating heart at the centre of his world. Month by month, she'd come to occupy his thoughts more and more. She was the one he went to when he needed cheering up. She was the one he wanted to share his news with at the end of the day. He wondered for the hundredth time whether he loved her, but again the comparison to Ingrid seemed impossible. He'd lain awake at night flustered by erotic fantasies about Ingrid. He'd yearned for her unattainable beauty. Every time he tried to picture Lavender the same way, all he could think about was Ingrid straddling him, desire turning to disgust, and the cold shock of confusion that had followed. He was afraid. What if the same thing happened with Lavender? It would destroy their friendship, and that was a thought he couldn't bear.

"I don't want to leave, either," he said in a stiff voice. "I want to set things right here."

"Would you risk your life for Lord Erik?"

Wolfram paused to think. He wanted to believe so. He wanted to be the sort of knight who would lay down his life for his lord.

"No," he admitted. "But I would for you."

Lavender stepped forward, her face upturned. She put her arms around him. He returned the hug, but turned his face away at the last moment when her lips edged closer. He resisted the urge to turn back, not wanting to see the look of disappointment he knew was on her face.