Page 1 of Bringing Claire Home

Chapter One

Mary was old. Older than anyone else in the valley. So old even she didn’t know how old she was. She could clearly remember Lord Huart being held up on the castle battlements as a newborn babe, his father shouting the news to the world, “An heir to the stronghold has been born!”

Of course, Lord Huart was killed in battle two years ago, along with both his sons, and now his daughter, Lady Elinor’s twin infant boys were the heirs to the stronghold. Mary smiled. She much preferred Lady Elinor’s attitude to managing a situation. The lady had a way of thinking of unconventional solutions to problems. Just two summers ago, she’d made everyone learn to swim so they could flee over the river if they were attacked. And when they were attacked, some people had needed to swim. Mary smiled more broadly. Even she could swim now. Well, swim was probably an exaggeration. But she could make her way through water deeper than she could stand in, with a little help from her grandson Mitchell.

Ah, Mitchell. Such a huge young man, and so caring of his old grandmother. His father would have been so pleased at the fine man he’d grown into. For a moment, she felt the same old sorrow at how her son, Mitchell’s father, had died after being gored by a wild boar. Then only two years later, his widow and Mitchell’s little brother had died of the coughing sickness. So many had died that year. Well, Mitchell had lived, and every day he made sure she had whatever she needed. Although her place was down toward the end of the lower tables, the servants always gave her soft food she could chew easily, and she knew this was because Mitchell insisted on it. All the serving girls looked up to him, but he wasn’t interested in any of them. She was almost certain he missed Claire. Claire’s brother had taken her from the stronghold to live with relatives, back when Lord Jeffrey was attacking the hamlets. Her brother farmed a piece of land quite distant from the stronghold and had preferred to leave rather than risk being attacked.

Silly boy. They’d have been perfectly safe had they stayed. Ah well, she’d just have to look about her and find Mitchell a wife. Someone strong and healthy who would give her a great-grandchild before she died.

* * * *

Mitchell leaned his back against a tree, his breeches around his ankles, his hand tugging on his cock. Hard and harder still he pulled, wanting the bite of pain, needing the sharp reminder that Claire was gone and wasn’t coming back. He pictured her oval, smiling face, her pale-blonde hair like a cloud around it, swirling down her back in tangled tresses, her eyes sparkling, now blue, now gray, depending on the sunshine.

Her breasts had filled his large hands, the nipples always hard little points when he touched them as he kissed her. She’d run to him and pressed into his arms, always enjoying his touch, letting him kiss her breasts and finger her cunt and her ass, although not permitting him to penetrate her with his dick.

The land he farmed for his grandmother was good soil, productive, and he was young and strong. He was certain it would provide for her as well as for Old Mary and himself. But her brother had taken her away before he’d asked for her in marriage, and now she was gone, who knew where.

Desperately he tugged harder and faster on his cock, inching over the border into pain. Pain that matched the agony in his heart since she’d left. Deliberately he dug his fingernail into his cock, and the sharp jab brought him to the edge, his seed spurting from his cock over his hand and onto the ground. He pulled on his dick a few more times as more seed pumped out, and then he leaned breathlessly against the tree.

The harvest was gathered in. A good harvest, not outstanding, but well enough. His grandmother was safe and cared for in the stronghold. Anything she needed, they provided, or if they didn’t, he could barter for some of his grain. There was no reason why he couldn’t go and look for Claire. Her brother had mentioned family at the far end of the valley. That was about a week’s walk, a little less if he was allowed to borrow a horse to ride. A horse would be useful if they’d moved on farther from the valley. If the family they’d visited had sent them elsewhere. And a horse would mean Claire could ride beside him as he walked back to the stronghold, once he’d found her. He would ask his lady’s permission to go look for Claire. It was decided. He would go.

He wiped his hand and his cock on the grass, pulled his breeches up, then headed back to the stronghold.

* * * *

Lady Elinor’s husband, Lord Rhys, had loaned him an older horse, but one with plenty of stamina. “He’ll be no use if you need to outrun masterless men, but if you walk him, he’ll keep on going all day long,” said Lord Rhys.

“I wish you well in your quest. Bring Claire back here again,” said Lady Elinor.

His grandmother was equally forthright. “You’ve been as grumpy as a bear since she left. Travel as far as you need to find her. If you can’t return before winter, ask the local priest to send Father Augustus a letter telling us you’re safe. That’s all that matters to

me.”

“I love you, Grandmother.”

“I love you, too, Mitchell. Your father would have been proud of the man you’ve become.”

He packed a bundle of supplies onto the horse, waved, and was gone. The weather was still warm. It would be several months before it turned really cold, and surely that was more than enough time to find and woo Claire?

The first two days’ ride was through familiar countryside, areas he’d walked through all his life to visit family and friends, to hunt for winter food, and to carry messages from the stronghold. By the third day, he had reached new territory. It was the same, but different. During the fourth and fifth days, he stared at the fields and trees, wondering what had changed, before he understood. The land here was not as well managed at that of the stronghold and the demesne. The demesne was Lord Rhys’s land. Technically the stronghold was his, too, because he’d married Lady Elinor, but everyone still considered her its lady.

Where he was now, the fields had been harvested, but the paths between them had weeds growing through them, as if no one cared to keep them clear. He had a stout staff on his left hip and a long dagger near his right hand. It was unlikely masterless men would attack a single traveler, especially such a large man as himself, and one who showed no signs of wealth or saleable possessions, but a wise man stayed ever alert.

Mitchell stared into the trees. The forest seemed different, too. It was quieter, without so many birds calling or other noises. Did that mean people were hiding there watching him? Or did it mean the local people had hunted the birds and animals until few remained? Back when Lord Jeffrey had terrorized the valley, starving people had hunted and gathered anything that could possibly be used for food. But the animals near the stronghold had returned in goodly numbers. Had that not happened here?

He continued to remain vigilant, worried people were watching his progress, planning to attack. But he didn’t have that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that a man got when he was being watched. It was strange indeed. However, he decided sleeping under a tree would not be a good choice that night and decided to stop at the demesne of a noble which was only about another hour away. It would be good to have news of these people to take home, too.

Lord Ceadda was old and had been a friend of the late Lord Huart. He happily welcomed Mitchell and asked for news of Lady Elinor’s twin sons. “Lord Huart would have been so pleased. Two heirs, a man can’t wish for more.”

Mitchell had noticed a middle-aged couple at the high table and hoped they were the old lord’s heirs. “Your heir is well, lord?” he asked.

“My grandson is almost ten years old. Already he shows promise with a sword. As long as I live another four or five years, all will be well here.”

“I wish you good health, Lord Ceadda.”

“Thank you, boy. You say you are searching for your lady love?”

“Her brother took her away to live with family when Lord Jeffrey was attacking the valley. I go to claim her and bring her to my home and hers.”

The old man began a rambling discussion of Lord Jeffrey’s depredations on the valley, and Mitchell guessed he’d never really recovered from that time. He was old, and his heir was very young. That was why the land was not looked after as well as it may have been.

Late the next day, Mitchell reached the area he’d been aiming for and turned off the main road to find the hamlet where Claire’s family lived. It was much slower traveling, and the track was not maintained. It was almost dark by the time he arrived, and the hamlet looked very poor indeed. Mitchell’s heart sank. This place certainly didn’t look capable of taking in extra family members and providing for them.

The center of the village was a grassy area surrounding a well. That was unusual. Most villages, or even hamlets, were built near running water. Crops needed water to survive. Having to draw water from a well was not a good sign.

A small boy and a toothless old lady emerged from the nearest hut. “Did you bring food?” asked the child.

Bring food? It was just after harvest. They shouldn’t need his food.

“I have enough for myself. Did your harvest fail?” he asked.

“I planted as much as I could, but I think the birds ate most of the seed. Not much grew,” said the child.

“Where are the men and women who should have done the planting?”

“Most people were killed two years ago when soldiers attacked our hamlet. Some people went to Lord Ceadda’s stronghold, but it’s too far for my grandmother to walk, so we stayed here. I knew where people had hidden their grain, what the soldiers didn’t steal, so we were all right last winter, but most of it has been spoiled by rats and insects now, and I don’t know what will happen to us. You’re the first person we’ve seen since everyone left,” said the boy.

“Is there no one in the other houses?”

“Just us,” replied the old lady.

“I’m looking for Claire, a woman with white-blonde hair. She and her brother were to come here a year ago.”

“If they stopped at the lord’s stronghold, they’d have been told to go elsewhere.”