Free The Forgotten War by Howard Sargent Page A

she found herself surprised to find that she had no interest in it at all. Rather, she was content to let the myriad servants, courtiers
and sycophants who had appeared at the announcement to get on with it. Instead, she contented herself with seclusion, being surrounded with as few people as possible and taking in the joys of
reading, Megan’s harp and even embroidery, although she was still terrible at it. She felt that she was a passive observer in her own life; it was a journey in which she was merely a
passenger and she had no control of either the destination or the directions required to get there. If that was the way it was to be, she thought, then so be it. She could get married standing in a
muddy puddle and wearing the hides of beasts if that was what they wanted. She had to content herself with small victories and today was one of them.
    Berek came up to her; he could be quite a cold fish at times, although he was always so busy she never blamed him for it. He didn’t need to come along really, but she sensed that he was
just as relieved to get out for a few hours as she was. ‘My Lady,’ he enquired, ‘is there any particular place you would like us to set up your picnic?’
    ‘Oh, somewhere quite close to the stream, I suppose. Not too close, though; we don’t want anyone falling in.’ She giggled at this as though the idea of someone falling in was
actually quite amusing.
    ‘As you wish, my Lady. Just give us ten minutes or so to set things up.’
    ‘Of course, Berek. In the meantime I will walk along the beach just where the waves come in.’
    ‘Don’t get your feet wet, my Lady.’
    ‘I will try not to but I doubt if I will have any success,’ she said impishly.
    He smiled, a notable event in itself. ‘Well, we have towels and clean shoes should they be required, my Lady.’
    ‘Thank you, Berek. You think of everything.’
    She left him and, along with Lady Catherine, meandered slowly towards the shoreline. The phalanx of soldiers still stood protectively ahead of her and behind her, although apart from their party
the beach was deserted. She looked back to see Berek and a dozen servants fixing up trestle tables (who on earth had carried
them
? she wondered) and opening hampers, although the wind was
doing its best to foil their endeavours. The early-afternoon sun was strong off the sea and when she looked ahead of her she had to shelter her eyes with her hand.
    There appeared to be something of a commotion with the soldiers ahead of her. One was pointing to an object that appeared to have been brought in by the tide; another soldier was trying to get
Berek’s attention by waving and shouting in his direction. The wind whipped his voice away almost before she could hear the words –
    ‘Sir Berek, a body, a body on the beach!’
    Curious, she turned her head back towards the object in question and saw that it was indeed as the soldier had described it. It was too far away for her to make out any distinctive features but
it looked like a man, a man in a black cloak and boots. She was about to go in for a closer look but at that point Berek stepped in front of her.
    ‘No, my Lady, let the soldiers and myself deal with this; he may have been in the sea a long time.’
    Thus stymied, she turned and walked away from the soldiers who were rushing to the scene, towards a large rock that stood up from the beach like a rotten tooth, shallow waves breaking gently
against it.
    Lady Catherine, having caught up with her, put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Elissa, how terrible!’
    ‘Go to the servants, Catherine. Stay with them until Berek says otherwise.’
    As Catherine left her, she realised that for once she was alone and not the focus of everybody’s attention. Her pace quickened towards the rock, and she decided to explore it. It was
irregular and had footholds; perhaps she could even climb on it before she was seen. Once she got there she looked around – she was still unnoticed.