Kenard serial

“Sir John,” Brìghde murmured after breakfast as the two of them sat on the same side of his desk whilst Brìghde wrote out her purchases of the day before and their exact amounts. “You referred to the paramours as witches. Did you mean that?”

He cast her a sober glance. “Why?”

“Emelisse cursed me.”

“She has cursed me also.”

She dropped her quill and wrung her hands. “Has it come true?”

Sir John heaved a sigh. “Bridget. The thing you must know about curses is that they only work if you believe them, and even then almost never.”

Brìghde was confused. “But that’s … witchcraft. ’Tis of Satan!” Read more →

Brìghde was in the chapel early the next morning to pray, as she had always done at home, but had not had a chance here, yet. Her customs were all awry, but they would have been anyway, as the last time she had had any custom was the morning before her wedding, after which she would have had to establish new customs at MacFhionnlaigh, which would have involved avoiding Roger’s mother. And father. And Roger.

Whilst she plotted to disappear forever.

If she lived that long. Read more →

Grimme and his knights were deeply engaged in whatever drills they were practicing, so much so that the next morning, he and they all bolted down their breakfasts with barely a word.

“Wait,” she said as she caught him when he arose to head out to the practice field. Grimme looked at her, irritated, distracted. She snapped her fingers in his face. “Pay attention.”

“What!”

“What’s your favorite color?” Read more →

“My lady. Lauds.”

Brìghde sighed at the hand on her shoulder, but did not open her eyes. She was so very comfortable in the old but sturdy bed with a new mattress. “Thank you, Avis. Bring me the green kirtle.”

She arose, allowed her chambermaid to help her dress, then sat on a stool whilst the girl brushed her hair, braided it, and dressed it. She looked in the glass. “That is very lovely. Thank you.” She could see the girl blush and smile in the glass. Brìghde turned and said, “You did very well with my chambers, and by the time I set. I am pleased. If you continue to serve me this well, I shall double your wage.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she whispered. Read more →

Grimme sat in his chair just after midnight and Brìghde had requested excusal. It was quiet but for the scraping of tables being pushed to the side and the erection of cots for his men. He had not realized that all through the meal, his father had been listening and there the two of them sat, father and son, silently contemplating.

“Trojan horse,” Sir John murmured.

Grimme nodded slowly. “It worries me, her lack of a sense of loyalty.”

“Son, she has no reason at all to be loyal to you. You abducted her, and the fact that it suited her purposes does not make it worth any loyalty, for you would have brought her here against her will anyway.” Read more →