The Wolfe (55 page)

“There is no need. I have seen
dozens of m-men knighted and all of the ceremonies are the same.”

She looked him in the eye and he smiled
wanly, trying to convince her he was sincere. She put her hands on her hips.

“Ye’re a liar, Michael de Bocage.
Why are ye here and dunna give me any more of your half-truths,” she said
flatly.

He sighed. “Because you needed a
guard this night and William assigned me.” He wasn’t about to tell her the
whole story, but what he stated was the truth.

She frowned. “Do ye swear?”

“Aye.”

“Do ye swear it on yer oath as a
knight of the realm?” she demanded again.

He cleared his throat. “Aye, m-my lady.
I do.”

She still didn’t believe him, but
didn’t push anymore. “Well, then, since I have never been to a knighting
ceremony, ye can tell Jemma and I what goes on. Come to the bedchamber window
with us; ‘tis a better view.”

He obeyed, standing behind them as
they gazed out the window toward the knights’ quarters. A soft glow from inside
filtered through the thin windows, shadows passing before the openings now and
again.

“What are they doing now?” Jemma
asked softly.

Michael braced his legs apart, crossing
his massive arms across him. “Right now Adam is taking his ceremonial bath.
‘Tis largely symbolic, im-mplying purification of the soul for service to God.”

“I wasna aware that English knights
are so religious,” Jemma said.

“Indeed, m-my lady,” Michael
insisted softly. “‘Tis the primary purpose of a knight to uphold the laws of
the church. In fact, a philosopher once wrote that knighthood’s function is to
protect the church, fight against treachery, to reverence the priesthood, to
fend off injustice from the poor, to m-make peace in your own province, to shed
blood for your brethren and if need be, to lay down your life.”

Properly awed, Jordan and Jemma
gazed at the knights’ quarters with new eyes. “All of that?” Jordan asked
softly. “‘Tis an awesome responsibility you hold, sir knight.”

“Aye,” Michael replied. “And one may
also add to the list to protect lovely young maidens.”

The women turned and smiled at him.
Jordan was about to speak when he suddenly pointed out the window. “Look, there,”
he said. “Here they come.”

They riveted to the window,
straining to see all. The door was now open and they could see movement. Adam
emerged, dressed in a long pristine white robe with a red mantle draped about him.
He solemnly headed for the small chapel under the Northwest turret.

William was directly behind him and
Jordan’s heart warmed at the sight of him. He was dressed in full ceremonial
armor, his hair combed and clean-shaven. His gait was distinctive, she noticed.
A sort of arrogant, proud swagger. She wondered why she had never noticed it
before. Behind him were the rest of the knights, plus several other men in
armor she did not recognize. Kieran carried Adam’s sword and shield, and Paris
held a shiny object in his right hand.

“What is Paris holding?” she asked
Michael.

“Adam’s spurs,” he told her softly. “A
symbol of his knighthood.”

The procession walked silently, each
man disappearing from their line of sight as they rounded the corner of the
castle. When all had gone from view, Jemma and Jordan turned on Michael
eagerly.

“What will they do now?” Jordan
asked.

“When will they be done?”  Jemma
demanded.

“Will Adam get hit with a sword at
the ceremony?”

“Does Adam have to fight William to
prove himself?”

Michael’s head began to swim and he
put his hands up, although he was laughing. “Please, ladies, one at a time,” he
implored. “Now, in answer to your questions, they will be done at dawn. Nay,
Adam does not get hit with a sword, m-merely christened by it, and he does
not
have to fight William. As for what will happen now, ‘tis very simple from this
point on. The knights will lay Adam’s sword, shield and spurs on the altar and
Adam will hold vigilant prayer all night. Then there will be a ceremony at dawn
in which the earl and invited guests will attend, and William will knight Adam.”

“Do all of the knights have to pray
all night long?” Jordan tried to hide her disappointment; she had hoped to see
William this night.

“Aye, my lady, they do,” he replied,
then added with a touch of drollness: “It does wonders for ones knightly
devotion to spend an entire night kneeling in armor. There are not many things
more painful in this life.”

The thought of all of the knights
kneeling all night long brought giggles to the women.

“Who were all of those other
knights?” Jordan asked. “I dinna recognize them.”

“Those were other honored knights
Adam wished to have attend him,” Michael replied. “The captains of Beverley,
where he fostered, Deauxville M-Mount, Northumbria, Cumberland, Hawkgrove,
Bitterwell, Simonson Keep, Alston, and Wellesbourne, I believe.”

Jordan snorted and turned away. “It
doesna sound like much of an honor to know that ye are going to spend the
entire night on yer knees.”

“‘Tis more than that, m-my lady,” he
said softly. “Tell me; would you do anything for your clan, even if it meant
being uncomfortable for a time?”

“Of course, without question,” she
answered.

“It is the same with the knighthood,”
he responded. “You see, we depend on each other, fight and die for each other.
Hell, sometimes even fight and die
against
each other, but we are all
part of the same clan, as you will. We are all of the same vows and goals. ‘Tis
an honor to accept a new member willing to pledge his life for the collective
brotherhood.”

She understood what he was saying,
knowing knighthood ties were like clan ties; very strong. She appreciated
Michael’s patience in explaining the ceremony to two ignorant women.

“Thank you, sir knight,” she said. “Ye
have been most educational.”

“M-my pleasure, my lady,” he answered.

She could not help but notice the
wistful look in his eye when he turned away.

***

After a night of kneeling in his
armor, William’s body was screaming for relief by the time the eastern horizon
turned faint shades of pinkish-blue. When the richly garbed priest kneeling at
the private altar rose stiffly, William did too. That signaled the other
knights to rise, albeit slowly. If there were any groans of pain, William
didn’t hear them.

He stood next to Paris and the
captain of Beverley, Sir William Payton-Forrester. Payton-Forrester was, in
simple terms, the most beautiful man God had ever seen fit to create. He was nearly
as tall as William with long blond hair, flowing to his shoulders, and sky-blue
eyes.

He reminded William of a Roman
statue. His face was sharp of feature and square of jaw and he had the good
fortune to have as fine a character as his looks. Although he had had the
lion’s share of women during his life, he had finally found a woman whom he
could love, and who in turn could tolerate him. William had seen her; she was a
flame-haired Scot beauty with porcelain features. Pretty as she was, William
was confident
his
Scot beauty was prettier.

Silently, the knights began to file
toward their designated positions for the knighting. As William and
Payton-Forrester separated themselves from the group, they noticed that the
honor guard had opened the door to the chapel and the guests had begun to enter
reverently.

Not a word was said until the young
priest began to intone the mass in Latin. William stood before Adam, whose head
was bowed respectfully. William held his sword, his own sword once belonging to
his grandfather. The sword had inducted many a knight, including William. After
the prayers and the readings, in which the audience participated, it was time
for the blessing and the benediction.

The priest stood over Adam and made
the sign of the cross, his monotone droning out the sing-song blessing. When it
was time, William spoke the words that accepted Adam into the brotherhood of
knights and tapped him lightly on first the right, and then the left shoulder.
With the final blessing of the audience, the service was concluded.

Adam rose, his handsome face smiling
at William as his new captain handed him his sword, his shield, and his spurs.
The earl and Alexander were close behind, waiting for the proper moment to
congratulate him. When William nodded slightly in their direction, they pushed
forward and nearly swallowed Adam up.

William was officially finished with
his duties for the moment and his mind turned to Jordan. With the earl
occupied, he could slip away and spend a few stolen moments with her. He was
moving for the door when Captain Payton-Forrester stopped him.

The man had a smile that could
devastate the entire female population of England. But William had seen it
before.

“Where are you off to, Wolf?”
Payton-Forrester demanded. “‘Tis been a long time since we have seen each
other. I hardly had time to speak to you last night.”

“Hell, I was busy,” William said. “And
you arrived so damn late. How is your lovely wife?”

“Shannon is well, thank you,” his
friend said. “Expecting our second child. I assume Adam told you that she bore
me a son last year?”

“Aye, he did,” William replied. “Congratulations
on Simon.”

Payton-Forrester nodded. “And what
about you? Have you found no woman yet? God knows, your ugly face would chase
them off.”

William grinned. “No wife yet,” he
said truthfully. After all, Jordan wasn’t his wife. Yet.

“Well, get on it, man,”
Payton-Forrester told him. “I wish for our sons to foster together, but you must
cooperate.”

“I shall try,” William answered,
leading them both out into the early morning sunshine.

“God’s Toes.” Payton-Forrester exclaimed,
shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. “‘Tis hot as hell this summer. I
cannot ever remember this kind of heat, especially this far north.”

“Nor I,” William glanced up at
Jordan’s windows, wondering if she were awake.

“Say, Wolf, I heard that the earl’s
betrothed is the image of an angel,” Payton-Forrester said with a jab to
William’s arm. “How true are the rumors?”

William could not stop himself. “True
as the Bible, William. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

His friend looked insulted. “But you
have seen Shannon and still you make that outrageous statement?”

William grinned, hoping to lighten
the insult. “Aye. See if you do not agree if you have the privilege to meet
her.”

“Preposterous.” Payton-Forrester
said gruffly.

William left him with a promise that
he would sit by him at the celebration feast and entered the castle with Jordan
filling every corner of his mind.

Michael met him at the door. William
guard went up at the look on his knight’s face. “What is wrong?” he demanded.

Michael looked grim and upset,
motioning for William to keep his voice down.

“I wanted to speak with you first,
before you see her,” he said quietly. “The earl came this m-morning before the
sun rose. He went into Jordan’s bedchamber and closed the door. William, there
was nothing I could do to stop the m-man.”

William’s chest nearly exploded with
apprehension and horror. “Stop him from
what
?”

Michael sighed heavily. He hated to
deliver such news. “I do not think he violated her, at least not in the literal
sense,” he said softly. “But he did touch her. That was all I could get out of
her. William, I am sorry. He is m-my liege and I am sworn to obey him. He
ordered me away and I had to comply.”

“Damnation!” William hissed
furiously. “Of all the goddamned, unbelievable….”

He stopped in mid-rage at the sight
of Michael’s face. It suddenly occurred to him that Michael knew about his
relationship with Jordan. They
all
did. He had told no one but Paris,
but somehow they all knew.

They were obviously beyond any more
charades. And it was obvious by Michael’s words that his knight was on his
side, right or wrong.

William let out a blustery sigh, struggling
to control his fury. “Where is she?” he asked quietly.

Michael tipped his head. “In her
bedchamber.”

He moved toward the closed door. “Stay
here in case Jemma awakens,” he said. “I do not want her near Jordan yet.”

“Aye, m-my lord,” came the soft
reply.

Wearily, strung out with anguish,
William entered the darkened bedchamber. Jordan was asleep on her bed facing
away from him. He closed the door quietly, concern etching his tired features.
He moved around the bed so that he could see her face; it was pale and
tear-stained and his heart lurched painfully.

God, why?
 He mused bitterly.
Why did this have to happen to them? Why could not they have met under different
circumstances allowing them to be together? William kept hoping the inevitable,
the wedding, would somehow be put off. He realized he wanted it postponed
indefinitely because he could not stand the thought of it taking place.