De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (12 page)

As if she could sense his presence and perhaps even his thoughts, Nicola suddenly looked up and saw Kenton standing several feet away. He was pale and sporting a growth of dark beard. Their eyes locked and, quickly, she passed the bowl she was holding off to one of her serving women, hovering behind her. She wiped her hands on her apron as she approached Kenton.

“So you are alive,” she commented. She meant it to be a wry quip but it ended up coming out as a concerned statement. “I had wondered. I have not seen you in days. How is your shoulder?”

The sound of her sweet, gentle voice was like music to his ears. He had missed it. “It has healed completely thanks to your tending.”

“I must take the stitches out.”

“No need. I removed them myself.”

Nicola winced at the sound of that particularly unsavory action, removing stitches from oneself. But she wasn’t surprised that Kenton would do such a thing. The man seemed impervious to pain or fear or anything else that men considered a weakness.

“I could have just as easily done it for you,” she said quietly, not knowing what else to say on the matter. She changed subjects. “How goes the battle? Does it show any signs of ending?”

He nodded. “It has already ended,” he said. “Edward’s army is retreating and Babylon has emerged triumphant.”

Nicola was relieved to know that the battles, for the moment, were over. “But for how long?” she asked. “I cannot imagine that Edward will leave Babylon to Henry without much more than a single attempt to regain it.”

Kenton shook his head. “More than likely not,” he said quietly. “But for now, Babylon will know a measure of peace.”

Nicola thought on that. She wasn’t eager to face more battles, at least not any time soon. She looked around the room to the wounded men crowding the hall and she sighed heavily.

“Hopefully these men will be much better by the time we face another attack,” she said. Then, she looked at Kenton again and realized that the man looked as if he were on the verge of collapse. His pale face was paler and his eyes were dark-circled. She hadn’t really noticed his fatigue until this moment. “Come and sit, Kenton. You must be famished. I will bring you some food.”

Kenton.
It was the first time he’d heard his name from her lips and he instantly, deeply loved the sound of it. He never knew his name could sound so good. She’d only called him “my lord” once or twice and most of the time she ignored any semblance of title at all. She was very clear in that she had no respect for him and his position at Babylon. But he didn’t care about any of that at the moment. He wanted to hear her call him Kenton for always. It was the most natural of things coming out of her delicious mouth.

Without replying, he sat down at the end of the feasting table, one with wounded men lying on top of it. He simply sat because she told him to and he watched as she scurried away, off to a section of the hall he couldn’t see but he knew that area had a servant’s alcove and a door that had stairs leading down to the kitchen yard. When she was gone, it was as if a light had gone out of the hall. It seemed like a darker and more dismal place. Feeling more exhausted by the second, Kenton raked his fingers through his dark hair, thinking on washing and shaving his face before trying to catch a few hours of sleep. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Truth be told, he was much too tired to plan anything beyond the next few moments.

Nicola reappeared a short time later with a tray of food. She was followed by one of her serving women, the dark-haired girl named Raven, the one that his knights had been eyeing, as the girl carried a pitcher and some other items. Nicola practically ran up to the table and set the tray down in front of him.

“I have some lovely, hot stew for you,” she said, putting a big, wooden bowl full of something steaming in front of him. She also began to put various other things in front of him. “I found a spoon, too. Oh, and here is some cheese and bread, and Raven has brought warmed wine for you. I hope this will be enough. Our provisions are quite low so I cannot offer you more than this.”

Kenton simply nodded as he picked up the spoon and plowed into the stew. It was hot and salty and delicious. The bread wasn’t very fresh but it didn’t matter; he tore apart the chunk and dipped it in the stew, slurping it up. He was so hungry that he hadn’t noticed Nicola now moving away from the table to leave him to eat in peace, but when he realized she was leaving, he called her back.

“My lady,” he said, motioning for her to sit when she turned to look at him. “Please sit. Tell me about our lack of provisions. I fear that we shall have to remedy the situation quickly with the number of men we have within the walls of Babylon. Are we truly so low on stores?”

Nicola sat down on the opposite side of the table, watching the man wolf down his food. “Unfortunately, due to the fact that Babylon has suffered through two sieges in close succession, our provisions are quite low,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound like a reprimand because he, in fact, had been the aggressor in one of those sieges. “We are nearly out of flour and we could use meat – any kind of meat. I do not want to kill all of my pigs this winter because we need offspring to breed more food for next year.”

Kenton, still eating, listened to her seriously. “You are chatelaine,” he said. “What would you suggest?”

Nicola didn’t stop to think that this was nearly the first rational and serious conversation they’d ever had that didn’t involve stolen kisses or anger or harsh words. He was showing respect for her opinion and she was showing him respect in kind. It was a calm exchange of information, the first between them.

“Rochdale and Manchester are about ten miles to the west,” she said. “Manchester has a big market every Sunday where we can purchase a good deal of stores, but I fear with all of these men we are sheltering, we will need an entire herd of pigs or sheep to feed them. We will also need grain for the animals if we can get it. This winter has been difficult so it will come at a premium if we can even find it.”

Kenton was nearly at the end of his meal but it was clear that he was carefully considering the problem. “Tomorrow is Sunday,” he said. “I am not entirely certain, however, it would be wise to leave Babylon so soon after a siege. Even though Edward’s army has departed, they could still be lurking nearby.”

Nicola shook her head. “Lurking or not, we must go,” she said firmly. “We cannot wait another week. We will be boiling hides for soup if that happens.”

“The situation is desperate, then?”

“It is.”

He lifted his dark eyebrows at her. “Then tomorrow we travel.”

Nicola nodded, satisfied, but then she began to look around the hall. Her movements were almost nervous. “There was a chest in Gaylord’s solar that contained coin,” she said, lowering her voice. “I do not know what has become of it, but I would assume you have it. That is what we must use to pay for the provisions.”

Kenton wiped at his mouth and downed what was left in his cup. “I have it in a secure place,” he said. “I will bring enough coinage to secure what we need.”

Nicola tried not to think about the fact that he essentially stole Gaylord’s money which, at his death, became her money. She understood the rules of the spoils of war. Therefore, she simply sighed and tried not to sound as if she resented the fact that he took most of the coinage belonging to her family. Not all, but most. She still had some tucked away with her possessions. Seemingly at the end of their conversation, she moved to leave.

“Very well,” she said. “We should leave well before first light tomorrow to make it to Manchester when the farmers are arriving. I want first pick of their wares.”

Kenton eyed her as she stood up. “It is generous of you to worry over our provisions enough so that you should delay your leaving Babylon,” he said. It was a leading statement. He wanted to see if she had, indeed, been serious about leaving in the first place because it had been on his mind since she’d first spoken of it. “When did you plan on going to your widowed aunt?”

Nicola came to a halt, looking at him with an expression between surprise and hesitation. She cleared her throat softly. “I… I had not thought on it,” she said. “I suppose I will leave when it is convenient for you to send a few men with me as escort.”

“That could take a very long time. I need my men here at Babylon.”

Her brow furrowed. “How long?”

“I have no way of knowing.”

“Surely we are talking about weeks here, not months or even years.”

He wiped at his mouth and wondering if he was sounding as if he didn’t want her to leave at all. Part of him hoped she understood that, but most of him was embarrassed that he could even think such a thing. Since when did he want to keep a woman around? The answer to that question was very simple but in order to save his male pride, he thought of another excuse.

“I have no one else to be chatelaine,” he said, “at least no one with your experience. At the moment, you are quite valuable to me. I would consider it a favor if you would delay your departure until such time as I no longer have a need for you. Right now, I need you.”

There was a hint of something more in that last statement, something that suggested he needed her for more than to simply run a household. Nicola caught of whiff of it, like a ribbon of smoke that tantalized and then was quickly gone.
I need you.
Was it possible that he did in more ways than she realized?

Madness!
She quickly scolded herself.
You are mad to believe this knight, the enemy, has interest in you! You should clearly have no interest in him!

Aye, she knew that. God help her, she did. But the giddy beating of her heart and the pull of his deep blue eyes told her otherwise.

“Then… then I shall remain for a time if I truly serve a purpose,” she stammered, wondering why her mouth was so dry. “I would not wish to leave you in a quandary.”

“That is very gracious of you, Madam.”

“But you
will
provide me with an escort at the appropriate time?”

“If time and situation permits, I will take you myself.”

She felt both better and worse by that statement. Perhaps she was reading too much into his “I need you” statement if he was willing to personally escort her to her aunt’s. Fearful to become the man’s whore but not too fearful to become one if she actually meant something to him, her mind was wracked with turmoil and confusion.

Therefore, she simply nodded her head and moved away from the table, passing within close proximity as she did. Before she could get away completely, Kenton reached out and grasped her hand as she passed by and she immediately stopped, heart beating in her ears and her breathing coming in little gasps. His touch had that effect on her. As she watched, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

“I hope you will not leave,” he confided. “I hope you will choose to remain of your own free will.”

With that, he dropped her hand, stood up, and moved away from the table in the opposite direction. Nicola simply stood there, her hand still nearly in the position he had left it, out in front of her as if he were still holding it. She watched the enormous knight leave the hall and out into the entry beyond before disappearing from her sight altogether. All the while, Nicola simply stood there, her focus still on the last place she saw Kenton, her heart still beating wildly from the kiss to her hand.

Dear God...,
she thought,
is it really possible that he should want me to remain? And is it equally possible that I will?

Of course she would. She knew she would. She didn’t want to leave him, either. Nicola fought off a grin, realizing that, for the first time in her life, she was actually attracted to someone and entrenched in the throes of a giddy infatuation. She’d never experienced anything like it but, as she was coming to realize, thoughts of Kenton were making her feel rather as if she were walking on clouds. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

“My lady?”

A soft female voice floated up behind her, distracting her from foolish, silly, warm thoughts of Kenton le Bec. She turned to see Raven standing behind her. When Nicola looked at the girl, the young lass smiled.

“The little lads will be hungry, my lady,” she said. “It is the evening now. We should take them what food we can carry.”

Nicola nodded swiftly;
too
swiftly, embarrassed she had been caught in reflections of Kenton le Bec.

“Of course,” she said, shooing Raven in the direction of the kitchen yard. “Let us take all we can. Le Bec is going to take me into Manchester tomorrow so that we may purchase more supplies, thankfully.”

Raven scooted well ahead of her mistress, heading for the kitchens. She heard Lady Thorne’s statement about purchasing more supplies and she had seen the entire exchange between the lady and the big knight known as Kenton le Bec. Raven and her sisters were coming to suspect that there might be something of an attraction between the pair and le Bec, in spite of his fierce reputation, seemed a far better character than Gaylord Thorne. Raven, Janet, and Liesl genuinely loved their lady and they had hated Gaylord Thorne for the way the man treated her. Certainly it was not an ideal situation to find solace with the enemy, but Raven and her sisters found themselves hoping just that.

As Raven and Nicola gathered more food for the boys from the steaming pots of stew, which was by now boiled-down and very thick since it was a few days old, Raven couldn’t help but notice that her lady seemed distracted. She kept glancing to the walls overhead or looking behind her at the kitchen yard gate as if expecting someone to appear. Raven knew, just as her lady did, who the woman was expecting to appear.