FOREVER KNIGHTS: #4 Battling Black Roses
Safe in the Merwood

Agatha caught the flash of red out the door in the rising golds of morning. Rushing to the window she watched Chastain walk through the gate.

Chastain, innately clumsy by nature, pulled open the gate and tripped over a root. Suspended briefly, she levitated until balanced. She hardly noticed, since it happened constantly.

Agatha’s gaze wandered to the hill beyond the gates where she glimpsed the shadow in the mouth of the cave entrance, hand outstretched. Seeing Chastain’s gaze travel a similar direction. Agatha swallowed as the figure there ducked out of sight in the nick of time.

“Why are you wandering about, Girl?” She pondered. “Margaret!” She called as she took the stairs two at a time. “Margaret, rise! We must speak!”

“What?” Margaret pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know full well it’s your turn until the sun has fully rose.”

“Yes, I know. But Chastain has run off again.”

“She’ll be fine. It’s nearly daylight.”

“Yes. But she’s been doing this more frequently!” Agatha nearly stomped a slippered foot. Dislodging her spectacles from her long nose.

“Oh, no…” Margaret’s hand fell.

“Yes. Oh, no!”

“She sleeps little enough as it is.”

“I’m aware!” Agatha concurred. “And she talks at night.”

“To…whom?”

“You know very well to whom!” Agatha snapped.

Margaret winced.

“I’ve been telling her not to go into those woods.” Agatha harrumphed.

“But she’s young, and the morning birds call to her.”

Agatha scowled.

“Come Aggie,” Margaret scolded. “you know no one is safer in those woods then she.”

Agatha turned shaking her head. “’Tis not the point and you well know it. She will replace those caves.”

“You don’t know that.” Margaret said in a hushed voice.

Agatha shot a glowering look over her shoulder at her big sister. “Don’t be a fool, Mags. She misses nothing.”

Margaret heard the click of her sister’s shoes down the hall and strode to the window in her chamber. Watching Chastain’s red hair popping in and out of the trees.

“It’s no wonder everyone in this house is exhausted.” She muttered before turning from the window. A rueful smile on her lips.

“It’s not funny.” Agatha snarled over their soup. “She’s still gone. Least you could stop smiling.”

“Maybe it’ll be good for her…Good for…”

“She’s special to me too Mags! They both are! But we knew from the time she appeared in the Courtyard that there could be something clinging to her.”

“I remember that day.” Margaret laughed. “You dropped blossoms everywhere. And I nearly stabbed myself with the trowel. She was so tiny in that white nightgown with her muddy little feet.”

“Which were cut and bleeding.” Agatha added as she too stared into her bowl.

“She’d looked like a drowned kitten in that gown.” Margaret’s eyes misted.

“Shivered like one too. A tiny redheaded mess, she’d been.” Agatha rose abruptly. Sniffing as she pushed her spectacled up her nose.

“Pale as linen.” Margaret watched her sister’s back. “You needn’t play so hard with me, Aggie. I know you, remember?”

“She’s far too sharp for her own good, Margaret. She will guess!” Agatha snapped before leaving the room.