Hal - The Duellist #1

Chapter Forty-Five: Transformations

Meracad woke alone. Nérac had no longer found it necessary to pay her his little visits since he had found out she was pregnant. One had to be thankful for small mercies. The fact that her own body had, she felt, conspired against her was punishment enough, without having to endure those nightly struggles and defeats.

Should she tell Hal? Perhaps the duellist would change her mind if she did. How could they expect to run from Nérac once the pregnancy revealed itself? It was a ridiculous idea. But Meracad was now desperate enough to run, whatever the cost. In the past she would have taken time to consider the consequences of her actions ‒ the possibility of being captured and imprisoned, or worse. Nérac would almost certainly have Hal executed. But something had snapped inside her at that very moment when she had seen through her lover's disguise. She was not prepared to lose her again.

Judging the time to be right, she swung out of bed, bathed and dressed before heading downstairs. She hovered for a brief moment outside the kitchen door, listening to the clink of pans, the bubbling sound of boiling soup, its brothy scent wafting out towards her. She could also hear Garth's gruff orders to his staff. Why would Nérac, with all his sophistication and penchant for luxury, employ such a low-bred beast?

Gritting her teeth she turned the handle, entering the kitchen with as much dignity and self-control as she could assume. Garth looked up in surprise and then his eyes narrowed in hatred.

"We are blessed once more with your presence, my lady. We are honoured, are we not?" His workers nodded their heads obediently. "How can I be of service?"

"Not you, I'm afraid, master Garth." She made a pretence at looking around the room until her eyes alighted on Hal at the end of the work bench. "You, girl. You brought me my breakfast yesterday."

"I did, lady."

"I approved of your service. You have, master Garth, hidden treasures amongst your workers. The girl is better suited to court than scullery."

Garth shifted uneasily. "I hadn't noticed, lady. That one's an insubordinate wretch, if you ask me. She'll come to no good."

"Well, it's fortunate in that case that I don't rely on your recommendations. Let her bring me my breakfast once more. Make haste, girl. I am in a hurry today."

Turning back into the corridor, she put her hand to her mouth. She had set something in motion, there was no going back now. This would end in freedom, or in death. Either way, it would end in release. Drawing herself up straight, she held her head high and made her way back to her chambers to wait.

***

"Arrogant bitch," Garth muttered to himself. "Still, taken a bit of a liking to you, it seems." Walking around the table he peered over Hal's shoulder as she gathered bread and fruit on a tray. "Remember what I said. Master doesn't like her having friends."

Hal focussed on the task in hand. However great the temptation, she could not risk antagonising Garth now. Too much was at stake. "I understand, Sir," she replied.

"Well, quick about it!" He left the kitchen in search of wine, providing her with the opportunity to slide the page's tabard from out beneath the table, keeping it wrapped beneath the breakfast tray.

Meracad had left the door to her room open, and Hal entered without ceremony. Kicking it shut behind her, she placed the tray on the bed and then turned to cup Meracad's face in her hands. "Are you ready, Meracad?"

"I lay awake all night waiting."

A sudden rush of heady joy gripped Hal's entire body. "You brave woman." They kissed with a greater sense of urgency this time. If someone were to discover them together, it would all be over before it had even begun.