A MISSING MAN
Amice walked back up the hallway that led past the bedchambers. Her heart was pounding. Where was Henry? She couldn't understand it.
She tiptoed up the hallway past the guest bedchambers, wondering which was his. Should she take a risk and knock at one? She peered in through a half-open door. The bed was made, but she could see a cloak lying on a clothes-chest; a red velvet one. This was a lady's bedroom. She shook her head and walked on.
She tapped at a door, but received no answer. Boldly, she tapped on another. A woman with a cloud of red curls popped her head out.
“Aye, milady?” she frowned. “Milady? Are you lost?”
Amice felt her heart thump. The poor maid, Greere, was looking at her like she was going mad. Amice almost felt as if she agreed with that diagnosis.
A morning without him, and you're acting like you're deathly sick.
“Is Lord Henri about?”
The maid frowned. “This isn't his chamber, milady. It's the one two before this. Here – let me take you.”
Amice thanked her distantly, following her. If the woman thought it was improper for her to be calling on a gentleman in his chamber, she said nothing. Just as well she didn't see us two days previous.
Amice shook her head. She didn't want to recall that night. She didn't want to remember how they'd kissed.
Henry has decided he doesn't like me any longer. He wants to be rid of me.
She had been so hurt when he'd spoken of going to the port town again. He wanted to find Bronn at the inn and leave her to go home. She wanted to stay as long as possible, draw out the days they had together. However, he was all for leaving her.
I'm being stupid. He's a spy. He has a task to complete. I helped him. Now he's here with a job and I'm a sudden liability.
She bit her lip, feeling herself want to cry.
“Here, my lady.” Her maid frowned up at her with big brown eyes. “Now, I'll go back to tidying.” She curtsied and Amice nodded.
“Yes. I thank you.”
She knocked at the door but there was no answer. She glanced up the corridor, but the maid had disappeared. She turned the latch and sneaked inside.
No one. She looked around the room, tiptoeing further in. Greere hadn't tidied in here yet – the bed was disheveled and she could see the imprint where he'd been. She felt a pain in her chest that was almost a blow. He had lain here at night, slept here. She breathed in, noticing the spicy scent of him in the air. She sighed. How many times had she leaned close to him, smelling that scent? She felt her arms ache, longing to hold him.
“Oh, Henry,” she sighed. She sniffed, wanting to leave. She couldn't bear to be in this room that spoke so loudly of his absence. Her own heart felt it keenly enough.
She turned and went to the door, then lingered, looking around. There was nothing out of place. His cloak was where he'd left it, his saddle pack, even his old shirt and trews. He hadn't gone far.
A sudden shiver played down her spine. What if he was in danger? He'd walked out without a word that morning and he'd been gone all day. She tiptoed into the hallway and looked out of the arched window.
It was sunset now. A wintry sunset, the sky dusk-blue on the distant hills, the sun a line of livid red like blood spilled into ink. She shivered.
Please let him be safe.
She heard footsteps and turned. Adair was there. He saw her and he seemed pleased. “My lady,” he said. “There you are. Is aught amiss? You seem sad.”
“I...” she considered asking him if he'd seen Henry. Something told her it wasn't a good idea. She shook her head. “Not sad, no.”
“I had a surprise for you,” he said suddenly. “I had meant to say nothing, but I find I can't contain my impatience.”
“Oh?” Amice frowned. “What is it?”
“Well, it’d spoil the surprise to answer that,” he grinned, “but I can't keep it to myself. Remember you mentioned a deficit of saddles?”
“Mm?”
“Well, I had our groom donate two of ours. They're not the best, I’m afraid, but they're serviceable and still good despite a year or two of wear.”
“Oh!” Amice smiled at him. “You're so kind! Henri and I will be most grateful.” She was touched, she had to admit. A new saddle could last ten years. More. This was a generous gift.
“Oh,” he shrugged. “Think nothing of it. Though I hope that, while you stay, you will consider accompanying me on a ride?”
Amice nodded. After such a generous gift, she could hardly say no – whatever she thought of Adair, and she actually liked him, she couldn't refuse his invitation after such a great gift.
“Oh, good,” he smiled, and he looked relieved, almost as if he'd thought she would rebuff him.
“You're so kind,” Amice said again. He laughed.
“No, I'm selfish. I had hoped to ride with you today, actually.” He shrugged. “But, maybe tomorrow. Would you like to see the saddles?”
“Yes,” Amice said, itching with the need to get out of the manor for a while. She was starting to worry about Henry, and standing about in her bedchamber would drive her mad with the inaction.
“Well, then.” He bowed and stood back for her to walk down the stairs with him. “Let us go.”
In the stables, they walked past rows of beautiful horses and Amice found herself calming down. Wherever Henry was, she was sure he was safe. After all, he was the spy. She was a simple lass from the countryside, lady or no lady. Whatever was happening, he would be well-equipped to face such things without her.
“And I must introduce you to my hunting stallion, Blade,” he was saying. “He's a breed with these new Arabian horses and as fast as a blizzard.”
Amice smiled. “I'd like to meet him.”
“He's up at the far end, near where we stabled your horses – the newer horses all go there, so that the others have time to get acquainted...oh.” He frowned. Amice came to stand with him, wondering what bothered him. He stared. Into a blank stall.
“What is it?”
“Your friend's horse was in there, I think. Not so, Alex?” he asked a groom, who nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, then. I wonder where he got to. Late, for a ride.” He shrugged. Amice felt her blood run cold.
“Alex,” she said to the younger groom, who froze as if he'd never been talked to by a lady before. Maybe no one has.
“Yes, milady?” he stammered.
“When did Lord Henri leave?”
The groom frowned, scratching his head. “I dunno, milady. I came on duty after midday. But he was out then. That I do know.”
“Oh.” Amice swallowed hard. Her heart thumped. He'd been out since midday? Where was he? She turned worried eyes to Adair. “My lord?”
“What is it, Lady Amice? Are you worried for him?”
“I am, yes,” she said, feeling her hands knot her sleeves, a nervous habit. “I cannot imagine where he is.”
“Oh,” Adair shrugged, as if it was of no great matter. “I'm sure he's well. The woods around the estate are quite safe. No bears in them. No bandits, either.” He grinned mildly.
Amice stared at him. “You think Henri is riding in the woods, alone?”
“Probably,” he said. “Unless he went to town. Or he left? Why are you worried?”
“No reason,” Amice said lightly. Because he's in danger. Because he's a spy.
“Well, then.” Adair smiled. “If he's gone, we have no reason to think of him. Not so?”
“Adair, I...” Amice stammered as he reached out and very gently stroked her hair. She froze.
As he bent forward to kiss her, the door at the other end of the stable burst open. A man stumbled in, ragged and limping. He stared at them. His face paled. His eyes, blue and dark, burned.
“Henri!” Amice shouted and ran to him. She reached him just as he collapsed.