Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (9 page)

Not expecting Sir Everard to yield so easily, Fulke gained a new
respect for the elder knight. “I ask nothing that is not in your power to give,
sir.
 
I ask only for you to release
Hylda, so that I may reunite her with your daughter.”

A shriek of joy sounded from the shadows above.
 

Feigning a cough, Fulke concealed the quirk of his lips behind his
hand.

Paying no heed to the outburst, Sir Everard heaved a weary sigh.
Staring heavenward, he asked, “Do you love my daughter?”

“I will protect her with my life,” Fulke replied honestly.

Everard pressed, his dark green eyes scrutinizing Fulke. “Do you ask
for her hand out of pity?”

Fulke did not hesitate, “No, sir.”

Sir Everard swung his legs over the bench to stand.
 
“Consider it done, your lordship.” His back
to Fulke, he murmured, “You did not ask for it, but you go with my blessing.”

His plan to embarrass the elder knight into agreeing to the marriage
unnecessary, it took a moment for Fulke to dip his head in acknowledgement.

The hall was silent as those gathered watched Sir Everard ascend the
steps.
 
Hearing the click of a door
latch, it was Talan who broke the quiet. Raising his tankard, he called, “God’s
blessing be on you both, my liege.”

Albin stood with tankard held high, beaming his whole-hearted approval.
“Aye. May the future hold joy for you both,” he seconded.

His arm around a dejected Gervase, Guy nodded in half-hearted agreement.
 

Fulke grinned at the two lovelorn knights. “Cheer up lads. If Mistress
Reina accepts me, she will still be your lady.”

Exchanging a resigned glance, Guy spoke as Gervase joined Osbert in
raising their tankards. “To our liege and lady. May sons bless your lives and
fill your home.”

Accepting their well wishes with a dip of his head, Fulke noticed Warin
still standing quietly off to the side.

While the men began to bandy jokes back about life at Castell Maen with
a lady about to keep them in order, he joined him.

“I shall protect her with my life, if she will have me Warin,” he said
softly.

Warin grinned. “It will be a great honor to call you brother, my
liege.”

Fulke gripped his shoulder as a commotion drew their attention to the
steps.

All heads turned as Hylda came into sight dragging a heavy ironbound
chest behind her. Bouncing her burden from step to step, the screech of metal
on stone pierced the ears as she slowly descended.

Reaching the rush-strewn floor, she abandoned the chest.
 
Rushing over to Fulke, she dipped into a
curtsey. “I have prepared myself, your lordship.”

“So I have heard.” He grinned at her puzzled expression.

“I shall gather us food for the journey.” Bobbing her head, she rushed
back up the steps.

Fulke belatedly released Warin’s shoulder. “How long do you need to
prepare yourself, lad?”

Running to the steps, he called over his shoulder. “I shall be prepared
before the horses are saddled, my liege.”

By the time they stopped to make camp in a small glade for the night,
Reina felt exhausted.
 
For once, the
sunset held no joy for her as she numbly dropped to the ground before the fire.
She did not feel the damp grass seeping through her kirtle or the warmth of the
flames as the fire was stoked into a blazing brilliance.
 
Staring unseen into the distance, she felt
nothing.

Clearing a space in the back of the wagon, Father Godfrey happily set
about making a pallet for her.
 
Plumping
the last of the blankets, he climbed down.

Out of breath from his exertions, he settled himself on the ground
beside her. Taking in her drawn features, he patted her hand to get her
attention.
 
“Feeling a touch melancholy
at leaving home, lass?” Without waiting for a response, he rambled on, “Fear
not, the Lord is always a step ahead of us to keep the stones from our path.”
Struggling to his feet, he left to feed his mules.

She watched him go, grateful for his reassuring presence.

He returned a short time later with a bundle of cheese and flat bread.
Passing out the food, she refused his offer with a shake of her head.
 

After the meal, he joined her to recite the evening prayer.
 
Smothering a yawn, he stood. Bidding her to
get some rest, he retreated to his pallet.

Lost to her own misery, it was some time before she felt the gazes of the
two men her father sent with them.
 
Glancing across the fire, she felt a tremor of fear to find them both
leering boldly at her.

One smiled, exposing a mouth full of blackened or missing teeth. The
other slowly licked his lips, crudely running his eyes down the length of her.

She stood to retrieve the bundle Hylda had given her.
 
Keeping a watchful eye on the men, she
retreated to her pallet in the back of the wagon.

With a sad sigh, she untied the twine to withdraw a blanket of soft
lavender wool. Holding it close against her, she felt hot tears slip from her
eyes. It must have taken Hylda longer than a moon to stitch the detailed border
of light blue wildflowers.

Wrapping up in the blanket’s warmth, she settled down on her side
facing the men.

Eventually, they grew bored with their vigil. Pulling their woolen
cloaks around themselves, they settled back to sleep.
  

Lowering her guard, she focused on the meager light of the fire. She
found herself dreaming of Fulke, Warin, and the knights.

As if awake, she watched her dream play out as Fulke materialized by
the edge of the fire. She held her breath as he searched the sleeping figures,
until his eyes locked on her.

Afraid he would disappear if she looked away, she lost herself to his
gaze as Warin stepped into the flickering light with the knights following
behind.
 
Fulke spoke to them, before
bending by Father Godfrey to wake him.

Sir Albin crossed the camp to stoke the dying fire, and she would have
sworn she could feel the sudden flaring heat of its flames. He glanced her way
as he moved past to step back into the darkness. Returning with his saddle, he
set it beside the fire as the rest of the men followed suit.

The men cast worried glances her way as they began to settle
themselves. Stretching out, they wrapped up in their cloaks, before closing
their eyes.

Curled up on his side, Warin pillowed his cheek with his hands the way
he did as a child making the dream seem so real she felt the wetness of tears
slide down her face.

She smiled as Fulke settled down across the fire from her. Fighting to
hold onto the illusion, she found herself drowning in the fathomless blue
depths of his eyes, content to stay in the dream forever.

* * * *

Guided by the moon, Fulke rode his men hard towards Rotheram.
 
Their horses’ hooves digging up large clumps
of the sodden earth as they galloped forward.
 
Digging his heels in, he fully intended to catch Reina before dawn.

His eyes scanning the distance, he grinned as he thought of Osbert
following behind in the cart.
 
Certain
Hylda’s nervous disposition would have driven him to distraction by now.

The flickering light of a small fire appeared on a distant rise.
Spurring his horse, the animal surged forward, the men following hard on his
heels.

Dismounting at the edge of the camp, he scanned the sleeping figures,
before locking on the one he sought.

Reina was lying on her side staring at him, yet not seeing him. He felt
a moment of fear as he took in the dark circles beneath her sorrowful eyes. He
had seen it many times on the battlefield. The emotional stress she had been
under had pushed her beyond the point of exhaustion. She was sleeping with her
eyes open.

He turned to block Warin’s approach. “I am afraid your meeting will
have to wait, lad.”

Warin stared at Reina, concern clouding his eyes. “Is she ill, my
liege?”

Fulke gripped his shoulder. “She just needs rest.
 
I am sure she will be fine come the morn.
Rest yourself after seeing to the horses.”

“Aye, my liege.” With another worried glance at Reina, he stepped into
the darkness.

Bending down, Fulke gently shook Father Godfrey to wake him.

Surprise entered the priest’s gaze as he blinked tiredly up at him.
“Baron Erlegh?”

Fulke held up a hand to keep him from rising. “Rest at ease,
Father.
 
All is well.
 
Plans for the mistress have changed. I intend
to marry her on the morrow, if she will have me.”

Father Godfrey beamed. “It appears the Lord continues to work in
mysterious ways, your lordship. What is meant to be shall be.”

“Thank you, Father.
 
Upon rising,
please inform Sir Everard’s men the mistress no longer requires their escort.”

Glancing at the hulking knights settling themselves around the fire,
his eyes widened. “Consider it done, your lordship.”
 
With a smile, he rolled back over.
 

Fulke kept his gaze on Reina as he set his saddle across from her.
 
Sinking down on the hard earth, he gathered
his cloak about him.
 

Every so often her eyes would drift closed, only to snap open.
 

“Rest now, Reina,” he mouthed to her.

Seeing her ease into sleep, he continued his vigil for the remainder of
the night.

* * * *

Just as dawn was breaking, Reina rolled over.
 
Staring into the fading night sky, she
shrugged off the blanket to sit up.
 

Climbing from the wagon, she raised her arms above her head to stretch
the soreness from her limbs.
 

Swallowing hard, Fulke stared at the outline of her full breasts
straining against her kirtle

Lowering her arms, she spotted him and froze.

She stared at him in confusion, before searching the faces of the
sleeping men around the fire. Stopping on Warin, her mouth fell open.

Bewildered, she returned her gaze to Fulke.

Crossing to her, he gently touched the wound on her cheek with his
fingertips. Holding out his hand, he asked, “Will you take a walk with me,
Mistress Reina?”

She slipped her cold hand into the warmth of his as he led her across
the misty glade.

A short way from the camp, he entered the woods. Leading her to the
stump of a fallen tree, he unclasped his cloak to spread across its length,
before gesturing for her to sit.

Amidst the splendor of the dawning sun, he knelt on the damp earth
before her.
 
Taking her trembling hands
within his, he said, “Reina, nothing happened betwixt Sibilla and me.”
 

She lowered her eyes, before answering,
“You do not
have to explain yourself to me, my lord.
 
Sibilla is to be your wife.”

He gently tipped her chin up so she would look at him.
 
“I did not ask your father for Sibilla’s
hand, I petitioned him for yours.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief as he continued, “I have been a knight
far longer than a noble.
 
Thus far, I
have spent my life living from battle to battle.
 
I know nothing of love or affection, and I do
not vow it.
 
Knowing this of me, I pledge
to you this, if you become my wife, everything I have will be yours and you
will have my protection from this day forth.”

Glancing at their lightly clasped hands, she slowly pulled her
trembling hands from his to cup his face.
“It would be my honor to
become your wife, my lord.”

With a gust of breath, he drew her into his embrace. Her hands slid
through his hair to twine around his neck as he lightly touched her lips with
his own.
 
Searing heat raced through him
as he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.
 

Trailing hot kisses down her face and throat, he returned to capture
her lips to start again. He was sliding his hands up her waist when he heard a
loud throat clearing behind him. The sound hitting him like a bucket of ice
water.

Releasing Reina, he struggled to gain control of his raging
desire.
 
Seeing the question in her eyes,
he slanted his gaze behind him.
 
She
flushed with color as he scowled over his shoulder at a smirking Albin.

With a grin, Albin bowed low. “I take it that you are betrothed, my
liege?”

“Is there a reason behind your intrusion or is it solely your wish to
irritate me so early this morn?”
 

Holding his hands up, Albin laughed.
 
“Spare the messenger, Fulke.
 
The
young lad is anxious to see how his sister fares.
 
I thought it best if I were the one to fetch
you.”

“One day you will find that I give as good as I get, my friend.”
 
Rising, he bent to assist Reina.

Albin chuckled.
 
“I shall live in
fear until that day comes.”

Relieved the length of his tunic concealed his obvious arousal, he
turned his back on Albin.
 
Lightly
running a fingertip down the length of Reina’s flushed cheek, he asked, “Do you
need a moment to yourself, mistress?”

Reina shyly returned his smile.
“No, my lord.”

Holding out his arm, he resisted the temptation to steal another kiss.
“Then allow me to escort you back to camp.”

Leading her back, Fulke ignored Albin striding boldly beside him.
 
With his hands clasped behind his back, he
whistled a spirited tune.

As they came into view of Warin, Reina looked up at him.
“Would you please excuse me, my lord?”

He ran a finger lightly down her nose. “You have no need to ask,
Reina.”

Grasping a handful of her kirtle, she took off at a run.
  

The sibling’s embrace made the smile on Fulke’s face slowly wither and
die.
 
He closed his eyes against the pain
as images from his past assailed him.
 
Turning away from the joyful reunion, he caught Albin's worried
look.
 
“Mind your own affairs,” he
growled, stalking off to join the men.

Fulke discussed the details of the coming days, paying no heed to
Albin’s searching gaze.

Knowing Reina would wish to have Hylda present, he arranged for Father
Godfrey to perform the ceremony as soon as she arrived with Osbert.
 
Camping another night, they would begin the
two day journey for Castell Maen at first light.
 
Once Reina was settled, he would manage the
affairs of the castle with his castellan, before returning to Rochester.
 
After conferring with the master builder, he
would depart for London.
 
Henry was bound
to be pleased with his latest report.