The Service of the Dead

Kate had gone cold. Her last brother, dead. All the men in her family, dead. She and her mother all that remained. Her mother, her muddle-pated meddling mother, had provoked this bloody onslaught of vengeance.

“So I vowed not to rush your dying. I meant to give you the guilt, and ruin you as well. You challenged me more than I could have hoped. You are a clever one, burying the body right away.” His chuckle was a gurgle. “William Frost struts about before his peers, but he crawls for you, eh?” He might be struggling to breathe, but Andrew’s grimace was a smirk. He so enjoyed twisting the blade in Kate’s heart. “He’s no less your servant than Berend and Jennet – comrades in arms you like to think, but they call you ‘dame’ and ‘mistress.’ You order them about. You Cliffords.”

Kate tightened her grip on her knife and fingered the axe. Enough? Had she heard enough now?

Andrew’s chuckle had the tone of a death rattle. “You have me wondering. You pushed them out when you thought they would hear how you murdered my brother. How you slit his throat as he sat watching the cattle, peaceful as could be.”

“My mother took me away before I could finish you.”

“So why not let your comrades hear about your kill?”

It was not the killing. It was what came before, the day the two of them, Bryce and Andrew… I ran. If I had not run, if I had killed them then…

Two against one, Kate. You were right to run. My death was not your fault. They meant to kill all of us.

“What you did to Alice. She had done nothing to you. Nothing.”

“Nor had Maud. But it changed you. Changed all of you.” Andrew coughed. “One feeble girl’s death destroyed you all.”

She leaned over him, the knife to his neck. “Like Mary’s death?” It was her mistake.

Something thudded against the door. Kate turned her head and, as the door swung open Andrew grabbed her hair with one hand, pulling her close.

Lille and Ghent sprang in. “Bite!” Kate commanded. They found a purchase on Andrew’s arms. He screamed.

“No! Get the dogs away from him!” the girl shrieked from the doorway. She hurled herself out of Jennet’s grasp, fell onto Kate.

Andrew lost his grip and Kate rolled away, pulling the girl with her and holding her tight though she flailed and kicked.

“Call off the dogs,” Sir Elric commanded from the doorway.

Seeing his drawn bow, Kate whistled to Lille and Ghent, their command to drop their grip. To Elric she called, “Hold your shot, sir. He is mine.”

But at that very moment the arrow pierced the bridge of Andrew’s nose.

Petra shrieked again, then went limp beneath Kate, sobbing.

Kate lay there for a moment, holding the child, waiting for her heart to slow. Damn him. Damn his arrogance.

“Are you hurt?” Sir Elric crouched down beside her.

She did not look at him. “He was mine to kill.” She lay still, holding the child until Berend plucked her from Kate’s arms, took her out of the shed. Lille and Ghent nuzzled her face. She held them a moment, then shifted her weight and pulled herself up, glaring at the knight until he shrugged and went over to retrieve his arrow.

“His blood mingles with Alice’s,” said Jennet. She stood off to the side, examining the mud floor. “This is where she lay bleeding.” She came to Kate then, offered a hand to help her stand up.

“Damn him to hell.”

“He thought Andrew was attacking you.”

“He assumed I needed rescue.” She noticed how Jennet cradled her left arm. Blood soaked the lower end of her sleeve. “What happened?”

“Petra bites. Through good wool, no less.”

“Get back to the house. Goodwife Bella might still be there. A bite needs attention at once. Tell Berend to follow, with the girl.”

“And you?”

“I will come.” Kate gathered the dogs’ leashes. Her head was pounding from the stench of blood. Lille and Ghent whined to leave.

“He was not yours to kill,” said Elric, startling her. She had not noticed he was still by the door. “He murdered my lord’s man.”

“You know this?”

“Your cousin William Frost told me all, where he buried him, how your cook identified him.”

“So that is how you came to be here? You came for Berend?”

“No.” He sounded offended. “My men told me they had found your man Sam. I came to see, but heard the disturbance down here.”

“That Andrew murdered an assassin was nothing compared to what he and his brothers did to my family. My three brothers. My best friend. Alice Hatten and Connor.” She saw the incomprehension. She called the dogs to follow and walked out, heading through the trees. Walter, dead. And the last of the Caverton brothers. She was hungry for revenge, but Elric had robbed her of that.

Let it go now, Kate. It is over. No one left to hate. Let it go. You are alive and that is precious to me, to know that you will go on.

Andrew and Bryce had come for her, two against one, and she had gone out that morning with only a knife to protect herself. She was searching for a ewe who had wandered off when she was about to yean – Kate’s responsibility that spring. She had thought only of the ewe and the lamb, not her own safety. Had she been better armed she could have saved Geoff.