FIFTEEN

 

The sound of rain woke Julia, for it sounded much louder than the patter of raindrops on the thatched roof of the keep. This was an incessant drumming that seemed to echo through the room, if a room it was. A place so dark must surely be a cellar.

But not one of Veluwe's cellars, for she knew those intimately. She reached out, and her fingers grazed wood almost instantly. The ceiling wasn't far above her head, either, as though someone had stuffed her into a large chest and closed the lid. At least they'd given her blankets and a mattress, though it seemed they'd taken her clothes in exchange.

She tried to raise the lid, but no matter how hard she pushed, it did not seem to want to budge. Swearing, she set her back against the wall and tried pushing with her legs instead.

Only, it wasn't the roof that moved, but the wall behind her, pitching her out onto a cold floor. She snatched up the nearest blanket and wrapped it around her before anyone could see her nakedness, only to discover she was alone in a circular room, and what she'd taken for a chest was actually a box bed, which took up most of the room.

But there was a chest, and it contained an assortment of men's clothing. Better than nothing, she decided, as she found a tunic and hose that fit well enough. It was almost like pretending to be a page again, as she had on the journey to Veluwe, though those clothes no longer fit her. She'd given them to one of Amma's grandsons.

Dressed, she ventured down the stairs. On the level below, a fire burned in the hearth, while her clothing was draped across the table and benches. Hmm, almost dry. She must have slept for a while if someone had had the time to wash and dry her gown and her underthings.

The smell of something delicious drew her back to the fire. Ah, there was a soup pot on the hearth, keeping warm. It was a rich, meaty stew, judging by the smell, so whoever lived here was not poor.

They probably ate better than she had these last few months, for all that she was the Lady of Veluwe. She sighed. Stealing their dinner was beneath her, though she couldn't deny she was tempted. She had coin to pay for it in her saddlebags, but those were on Epona's back and she...

Now Julia remembered. Epona taking fright at the flying sail, bucking her off, and she'd landed in the river. Well, that explained why she'd been naked – her clothes had likely been soaked. That still didn't explain the searing pain in her side that made it hard to breathe, though.

Another glance around the circular room, bigger than the bedchamber above, gave her the clue she needed to orient herself. This was the mill she'd seen beside the wheel in the water. So the miller had likely been the one to pull her from the river. That explained the rich stew, too, for most millers were not poor – she'd paid enough for flour these last three years to know that. She would have to thank the miller's wife for washing her clothes while she slept.

A door slammed somewhere, and the sound of heavy footsteps tromped up the stairs. The man dropped his heavy bags on the floor beside the fire, then stared at her for a long moment, before he exclaimed, "The boy from the bridge!"

Julia blinked. The boy from the bridge? She hadn't thought about him for years. And yet, now that she looked at this man, it had to be... "You!"