An Uncertain Choice(48)

“The worst?” I tried to feign nonchalance by studying the open field ahead, where many of my peasants were hard at work reaping the wheat with hand sickles.

“I couldn’t bear knowing you were with Collin and Bennet.” He spoke the words I’d longed to hear. “I hope you’re not planning to spend any more time with them.”

“And why is that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice innocent.

“I cannot guarantee their safety should you keep their company.”

“Then I suppose I shall have to avoid them.”

He grinned.

“And if you insist,” I said softly, “I shall plan to spend every day henceforth in your company.”

“I insist.” His voice was low. I didn’t dare glance at him for fear that he would see straight inside to my heart, which was tapping too fast. Instead, I focused on what his plans for the day might be. A cart rumbled behind us. A leather covering spread across the contents prevented me from speculating what he was bringing along.

“I cannot fault your noble friends for the fun they showed me during their special days,” I said. “Do you think you’ll be able to impress me with more than Sir Collin’s garden banquet or Sir Derrick’s art fair?”

“Do I need to impress you, my lady?” He rode with a confidant, almost purposeful posture, one that reminded me of the strength I’d noticed in him the first day I’d met him in the market square. He glanced at me only briefly before scanning the fields and the peasants bent at work. Although his eyes were kind, there was a censure there that I was learning to appreciate.

“You have no need to impress me, sir,” I admitted. “But you do with your honesty nonetheless.”

He turned to me again, and this time his eyes sparkled with pleasure from my declaration. “I can guarantee that this day will far surpass anything my friends have done.”

Though several guards flanked us and the duke rode at the rear, it felt as though we were completely alone. We traveled for some time, our conversation soon turning into an easy sharing of our pasts. He talked about the many years he’d spent fighting with the duke and the escapades he’d taken part in with his friends. And I shared more about my childhood, especially the fond memories I had of my parents.

When we finally arrived at one of the small towns on my land, I was surprised when he led me to the poor area of town that was fenced off from the rest. From the crudely painted sign, I knew this had been one of the areas hit by the recent illness. It was eerily quiet and deserted, lacking the usual barking of dogs, laughter of children, and shouts of housewives. Derrick helped me dismount, and I followed him cautiously as he crossed past the fence. The doors on the huts stood ajar, the floors barren, the streets strangely clean of the usual refuse.

As we walked, Derrick informed me that only one small group of destitute men had lived through the illness, and the sheriff had assigned them the task of clearing out and burning the once-infected area. Derrick called the men over so that we could speak with them and give them provisions, which I soon realized he had packed in the back of the cart.

We repeated the process in two other towns, and by the end of the afternoon I was disturbed by all that I had seen and learned.

“So many poor have lost their lives,” I said as we rode side by side in the shade of a glen. Slants of sunlight filtered through the canopy of branches overhead. A soft breeze brushed my heated cheeks. But nothing could soothe the ache in my chest — ?an ache that had grown larger as the day had passed. “Entire sections of each town have been wiped out.”

“I thought my squire was exaggerating when he brought back his reports,” Derrick admitted. “But his claims are entirely true.” I’d learned earlier that Derrick had sent his squire ahead yesterday to discover how many carts of provisions we would need to bring. Sadly, we’d only needed one.

“If I had to guess, I would have to say nearly three quarters of the poor population on my land has died.”


Derrick nodded thoughtfully. His forehead was marked with lines of concern.

“Don’t you find it strange that the illness isn’t spreading in a usual manner?” I asked. “Did you notice it only seemed to affect the poor districts?”

“That same question has been troubling me since I first heard the reports from my squire yesterday.”

As I rode along, I began to think deeper on the matter. Why did this particular illness affect only the poor? My parents’ death attested to the fact that illnesses like plagues usually feasted on rich and poor alike. I’d also found it strange that the survivors had all said the same thing, that the outbreak started after the sheriff and his men had visited.

Of course, the sheriff had visited only to collect the usual taxes, as he did at certain times throughout the year. But nevertheless, the fact bothered me. “Do you think the sheriff or one of his men is a carrier of the disease?”

Derrick frowned as if he too had been puzzling over the connection. “If so, then why didn’t the disease spread wherever those men went? Why just in certain areas?”

We were nearing the gates of Ashby, and the tall towers of my castle rose to welcome us back. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure I was ready to be home and to end the day with Derrick.

As if sensing the close of our time together, Derrick shifted in his saddle. His expression filled with sudden uncertainty. “Perhaps I should have planned a more light-hearted activity for the day.”