Warrior's Moon A Love Story (12 page)

“In truth, Sire.  I haven’t been round him much, but if rumor is to be believed, he is, indeed, quite quarrelsome and cold hearted.  Many from the village of Navarre fear that now that his father has turned all his holdings over to his care, they are doomed to abject poverty from steadily rising taxes.  They say he will harass them both monetarily and physically into misery.  They are often fleeing to others’ lands if they can.”

The prince was no longer smiling and said, “Yes, we understand that is so.  I simply wondered if ‘tis as bad as they say.  The younger Lord hasn’t a notion that he would be far better off financially were he to help his tenants to become more productive and give them hope of betterment, rather
than squelching their hope, in effect squelching their willingness to try.  May I ask you a favor, Wolfgar?”

“Anything, Your Highness.”

“Will you discreetly come to me with any news of Rosskeene from home?  The king is concerned about what is going on with young Lord Rosskeene.  His father has been a good steward, but he will not live forever.  The people there have always been good, hard working, law abiding citizens and Rosskeene’s lands are nearly the largest holdings in the whole kingdom of Monciere.  ‘Twould be a pity to let a whole region dwindle.  Don’t you agree?”  Peyton nodded and unexpectedly, the prince asked, “Can you be trusted, Wolfgar?”

Peyton turned to look him, then pulled his helmet from his head and met the prince’s eyes steadily and said simply, “Yes.”

The prince looked back at him just as steadily for a moment and then nodded.  “Good.  My father has need of those who can be trusted.  ‘Twas good to meet you, Peyton Wolfgar.  Though certain parts of my person may not agree with that statement.  Keep training.  Perhaps soon ‘twill be Sir Peyton that I’m calling you.  Good day.”

             
                                        
 
SSSS

Peyton still had to peel potatoes to appease the flag bearer, but that was probably a good thing because some of the other knights and squires had begun to dislike him because he was consistently besting them at the various activities they engaged in.  The kitchen punishment, and the fact that Peyton did it so humbly, seemed to ease some of that and Peyton settled into his new life with new friends relatively quickly.

Sir Kendall was thrilled with him and let him know he was and, in truth, sometimes they worked more on the logistics of how to travel and camp and work together with a body of soldiers more than they studied the skills of war.  The skills of battle, like sword fighting and archery and even wrestling, Peyton seemed to have mastered as well as any of the knights.  ‘Twas learning to confer and negotiate and fighting together that Peyton didn’t have enough experience in. 

He’d been in Valais for well over a fortnight when he and some of the other young men left the knight encampment and went into the township to make purchases.  There, on the street, they met with an entourage of soldiers accompanying a fine carriage drawn by four glistening white horses.  The squires turned aside to get out of the way as the carriage slowly passed them by and Peyton saw a lovely dark haired young woman through the carriage window.  She was watching the squires and soldiers and townspeople and her eyes met Peyton’s and held as she passed. 

His friend Matthew Ansel, squire to Sir Garrett nudged Peyton with an elbow and grinned at him as he nodded toward the carriage that pulled to a stop at a confectioners just ahead.  The young woman was handed out of the carriage and walked inside the shop as Matthew said, “Princess Clarissa.  She was looking at you.  New meat.  She’s never seen you before.”

Peyton shrugged, uncomfortable with even this slight amount of discussion of a young woman he was making such sacrifices to defend.  He shook his head and said, “I’m sure she was simply wondering who the comical looking new squire is.”

Matthew chuckled.  “You?  Comical?  ‘Tis not what I heard the kitchen maids have said about you. ‘Tis said you’ve fair started a riot in the kitchen with your potato peeling.  The maids are all fighting over who gets to work near you.”

Rolling his eyes with a grin, Peyton said, “It would seem not.  The head cook has actually decided I’m not to peel potatoes anymore.  Said I’ve done a proper penance for unseating the prince.”

“Nay, ‘twasn’t because it was enough penance.  Surely not.  They’ll find a new way to punish you, I’m certain.  ‘Twas simply a matter of not being able to get the young maids to settle in to their tasks.  What with the delicious looking new squire mucking up the routine.  Cook said the entire kitchen has lost its focus.”

“Delicious?”  Peyton chuckled.  “And how is it, Matthew, that you have an inside understanding of what the kitchen maids think?  Could it be that you have had a similar sentence of potato peeling?”

“Ay.”  Matthew grinned a knowing grin.  “Well, I wasn’t so foolish as to unhorse the prince, of course, but I did have my own choring to see to.  I, however, took much greater advantage of the fact.  I didn’t ignore the maids as you appear to.  Especially that shapely red one, Meg.”

Peyton narrowed his eyes as if in confusion as he looked back to his friend.  “I don’t seem to remember a shapely red Meg.”

Matthew shook his head and laughed.  “You, my friend, are a liar! ‘Tis surprised that I am.  I thought you’d go to your grave rather than tell an untruth.”

“Ah, better to twist the truth than taint the reputation of a fair maid.”

“Admitting she has the shape of a goddess isn’t exactly tainting her reputation, Wolfgar.  And your reputation precedes you. ‘Tis already known fair cross the kingdom that Peyton Wolfgar isn’t likely to be taken under the spell of any of the kitchen maids.”

“Are you saying I’ve already a reputation for staying clear of inane dalliances?”

“Indeed.”

“That is a good thing, is it not?”

Matthew smiled again.  “That all depends on whether you are a love struck kitchen maid, I suppose.  You may be pure responsible for several of them pining to their deaths.”

Peyton simply shook his head and chuckled again.  “Surely not.  You’ll have to assure them I was only able to ignore them to see that the meals were produced in a timely manner.  Tell them it took all of my self control.”

“Lying again.  And poorly at that.”

“I’m that transparent?”

Matthew grinned again.  “Have you a girl back home then?”  Peyton nodded and Matthew went on, “I do too, but that doesn’t stop me from seeing to it that the maids aren’t crushed by my ignoring them.”

Peyton shrugged once more.  “You’ll have to comfort all the maids of yourself then friend.  I’m fair too busy trying to learn how to be a squire.”

“Three lies all of an afternoon, Wolfgar.  You’re dominating the whole of us without breaking a sweat and it’s well you know it, but your humility is endearing.  Even to Prince Laird, although why he’s not angry with you is a mystery.”

“He didn’t appear the type who lets anger spoil his fun much.”

“No, indeed he is not.  And neither is Princess Clarissa, which is a good thing.  At least she won’t have you beheaded when you don’t indulge her in what you term inane dalliances.”

This time Peyton grimaced.  “With the princess?  What are you thinking?  Surely you shouldn’t even speak such a thing.  The dalliance should be what calls for beheading, not the lack of it.”

“Yes, but I saw how she just looked at you.  King Dougal has done admirably with his children, but she is still a spoiled sixteen year old girl.”

Peyton grimaced.  “Now you’re frightening me.  Certainly a princess has better taste than an unsightly peasant from Navarre.”

Giving a low chuckle, Matthew shook his head.  “Four untruths.  Nay five.  You’ve utterly destroyed my hero worship in mere one conversation.  Nothing frightens you, Wolfgar.  And unsightly was not the word the maids were bandying about.  Delicious was much the more accurate.  Further, you’re no longer a peasant.  Must I remind you?  But don’t worry, you’ll earn every privilege, once we go to battle.”

Just then, the princess emerged from the candy shop and there was no mistaking her study of Peyton as she was handed back into her carriage.  Peyton gave a miniscule shake of his head and said, “
'Tis not battle I’m worried about.”  Matthew gave him a sympathetic grin as Peyton added, “It’s figuring out all the other aspects of this life that has me concerned.”

That night as Peyton lay awake in his bunk, staring up at the wooden roof of the soldier garrison he was housed in, he thought back on the conversations of his day.  Talk of
brunettes had left him sore lonely for Chantaya.  That loneliness was easily the hardest part of becoming a soldier thus far.  The work and even learning social protocols was nothing to learning to live without seeing her pretty face and hearing her precious laughter every day of his life.  It was not even three weeks he’d been away from her, yet, it felt like a year. 

He’d been writing a letter that was more like a diary of his life.  Every evening, before retiring, he’d written some of the things he’d have spoken to her were she close enough to speak to, as she always had been before.  To be able to write to her was a relief in some small way.  Still, he would have loved to tell her in person of Sir Kendall’s revelation today that he was to be knighted within another fortnight.  From what he’d overheard, ‘twas clearly a record for advancement in the kingdom. 

While it was a fantastic honor, just the fact that he couldn’t share it with Chantaya dampened the spirit of celebration that Matthew and some of the others here in the garrison were full enjoying. 

Peyton wished Sir Kendall had been able to tell him what their future plans for him entailed.  Maybe knowing where he would be and for how long would help to stifle this near suffocating homesickness.  Only it wasn’t home he was missing.  Just Chantaya.

He dreamed of her that night.  Over and over he would emerge to a half wakeful state filled with restless memories of her.  How she smiled when he teased her and how she smelled as he had held her close.  The way her slender form fit perfectly against him as he hugged her, and even how she made him laugh at times when she’d put her hands on her hips in indignation.  She was the perfect blend of soft, sweet, tender femininity and intrepid strength. 

It empowered him, that mix of softness and strength.  Sometimes he had to protect her, and sometimes her competence and yet her confidence in him had a way of building him without her even realizing it.  She was the strongest woman he knew, though often she still looked to him for guidance and support.  It made him feel invincible and that between the two of them, they could succeed at anything.  Her faith in him made him so much more confident than he would have been, but just now, the distance between them also made him miss her desperately.

That afternoon, just before supper, Sir Kendall spoke of having to meet with the king and the King’s First Guard.  As Sir Kendall took his leave, Peyton glanced up at the gathering dusk and made an almost instantaneous decision.  He wasn’t required until after breakfasting in the morning.  He had nearly thirteen hours until then.  Almost eight of it would be taken up in traveling, and he wouldn’t get much rest, but that was nothing to him if he’d have a chance to see Chantaya.  He was going home!

In the encampment kitchen, he would have felt guilty about one of the maids being overjoyed to be helping him put together a packet of bread and meat and apples, except that he was too focused on leaving to pure notice her.  His charger had spent part of the day practicing jousting, but he was still energetic enough that Peyton let him gallop for several miles to take the vinegar out of him before settling him into a long, distancing eating trot on the road to Navarre as darkness fell hard.  Chantaya would be surprised, but she would probably be as glad to see him as he was to see her.  At least he hoped so.

Chapter
8

Pebbles hitting the shutters of the window in her loft deep in the night startled Chantaya awake.  For a moment, she wondered what she was hearing and then for a split second she felt fear that turned into joy when another pebble hit and she realized what that little rock meant.  Peyton!  It had to be Peyton!

She pulled the covers back in one bold sweep and rushed to the window, shoved up the sash, throwing wide the shutters.  He was there in the yard, just about to toss another pebble.  Unable to contain herself, she squealed, “Peyton!”  He put a finger to his lips and shushed her, but she ignored him as she gathered the hem of her nightgown.  “Peyton!” 

She sat down on the sill and he started to whisper, “Chani, No!  Chani…  Chani!”  This last wasn’t whispered, but still, she swung her legs over and pushed off the sill as he lunged to catch her.  He tried, but her momentum took them both down and they landed on the damp ground in a veritable tangle. 

Their fall didn’t even begin to dampen her excitement and she brushed her hair out of her eyes, leaned up and squealed again as she literally lay on him and threw her arms around his neck.  “Oh, Peyton.  I’ve missed you!”

He chuckled as he wrapped his own arms around her and said dryly, “I gathered that.  I’ve missed you too, Chani.”  For a moment, he simply held her tightly and she
seemed to want to melt right into him, but then he gently but firmly put his hands at her waist, lifted her off of him and set her aside as he sat up.  He stood and then offered her a hand as he said, “The idea behind the pebbles was to let your mother sleep, you little lunatic.”

As he pulled her up to stand beside him, she moved right into his arms as she replied, “I’m sure she’s yet asleep.  How are you?  Tell me all of it!  I’m pure dying to hear of it!”

He chuckled again and shook his head as he said, “Even if she slept through your squealing my name and jumping out your window, she still must wake to open the door and let you back in.  You’ll chill near to death.  You can’t stand out here barefooted, wearing but a nightgown to speak to me. ”

“Of course I can!  I’ll be perfectly all right if you hold me.  Your body will keep me warm.  And you can boost me back up.”  She hugged him tighter still.  “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!  I’ve missed you!”

He hugged her back for a long, sweet moment, but then he said hesitantly, “Uhm, Chani.  Keeping your body warm with mine, with you only in that thin nightgown . . .  I, uh . . .  I’ve missed you, too, girl, but . . .  Chani, I’m only human.  You’re too tempting.  Come on.”  He took her hand and began to lead her around to her door.

Hanging back, Chantaya asked, “Pray, what do you mean, Peyton?  Don’t let’s wake her.  Tell me everything you’ve been doing.  These last weeks.”

“I mean just as I said, Chani.  You’re far too tempting.  Go in and in the least put on a robe.  You’re freezing, at any rate.  It’s cold out here.  These last weeks I’ve been missing you.  Ridiculously so.  Enough that warming you by body heat is pure foolish.  Come.” 

He turned to go up onto the porch with his arm around her, but she paused and looked up at him in confusion.  He met her eyes and then glanced down the length of her nightgown before looking back into her eyes.  She saw something there she’d never seen before and it made her heart rate jump as he pulled her back into his arms.  She watched the molten glow that sparkled at the back of his eyes in wonder as he slowly lowered his head to kiss her the way she’d dreamed of being kissed these past days and weeks.  Oh, how she had missed him!

The door opening behind them didn’t truly register, but her mother’s loud clearing of her throat to get their attention finally did.  Peyton raised his head with a low sigh as Isabella asked sleepily, “What under heaven is going on out here, you two?”

Chantaya patted his cheek, took a deep breath and turned from his arms to the door with a sigh of her own.  “Oh, this old frump is insisting I have to come i
nside and put on something more . . .  more . . .  ”  She turned back to Peyton.  “More what, Peyton?”  He only shook his head with the barest hint of a smile.  Facing her mother again, Chantaya went on.  “He says that I’m too tempting and insists I change.” 

Isabella raised her eyebrows and pulled her own wrapper tighter against the cold and said drily, “I should think so.  Good gracious.  How did you even get out here?  Dare I ask?”

Chantaya shook her head.  “No.  You daren’t.  You don’t want to know, truly.  And you needn’t look so scandalized.  I fully intend to marry Peyton when I grow up.”

At that, Isabella folded both arms over her chest and said firmly, “What you intend to do in the future has absolutely no bearing on behaving yourself tonight, Chantaya.  Until you are actually married, you still need to dress and act more seemly than this.  You are well aware of that.”  Isabella then turned to Peyton.  “As are you, Peyton.”

Peyton nodded silently and Chantaya spoke again, “Don’t be wrought with him, Mother.  I was the one to blame.  He truly was trying to make me behave properly.  This was my doing.”

Isabella smiled tiredly and said, “He didn’t appear unduly undone about anything when I opened that door, young lady.  Welcome home, by the way, Peyton.”  She stepped across to hug him and then turned to the door.  “We’ve indeed missed you, son.  Do come inside before she contracts some dreaded ailment from the cold in such a state of undress.”

                                                      
 
SSSS

Peyton took the mild reprimanding from Isabella with complete humility, knowing he deserved it and more and that she would still love him as dearly as ever she had.  He had come to know that if ever there was a woman of character, Isabella was it and he was grateful.  It was ever she had raised Chantaya to be the same and that character strength was an incredible gift.  Still, there was now no doubt of his intentions toward Chantaya, as far as Isabella was concerned.  The way he felt about Chantaya had been glaringly obvious as he’d kissed her there before realizing Isabella was watching. 

Maybe that was a good thing. 
‘Twould be that Isabella would do what fell within her power to help the two of them make it to happily ever after.  He was sure of that, for he’d ever had Isabella’s admiration since that first night he’d rescued Chantaya.

Isabella went back into the other room, presumably to return to sleep, and Chantaya climbed her ladder into the loft to don something more appropriate.  Peyton stood there inside the door, stretching the tired muscles of his back and grinning once again at the memory of Chantaya coming flying down out of that small window.  What a lunatic she was!  There had definitely been no question about whether she was excited to see him.  That was certain.

Their reunion hadn’t been quite what he’d planned, but then how could he ever have planned the feelings holding her in her thin nightgown had evoked?  And the scent of her that he’d remembered night and day for these weeks.  He flushed again, just thinking about how that scent and the softness of her body had felt as she’d knocked him to the ground and then snuggled up to him.  Never had he felt such a warmth and depth of emotion.  It had been shocking to recognize the longing that rushed through him.  ‘Twas almost disconcerting except that it felt so right and so warm and so deeply compelling.

Hearing a sound, he looked to the loft ladder and watched Chantaya as she descended, now fully dressed except for shoes over the stockings she wore on her feet.  Her hair hung freely down her back in all of its rebellious, curling glory and his breath caught as she lightly hopped the last foot or so and turned to all but run to him.  She was more beautiful even than he remembered.

She swept toward him so enthusiastically she literally hit into him and he laughed as he picked her up to swing her around in his arms before setting her back down and burying his face into the sweetness of her wild curls and the warmth of her neck.  She was definitely still his intrepid Chani.

Again, they pulled the bench from near the door to the fire.  They built up the fire’s warmth and talked the hours away about all that had occurred in both her life and his.  They tried to catch up on all that had happened as well as catch up to the emotions that had grown only stronger during their separation.  The fact of their commitment to each other was both glorious and frustrating as they spoke of hopes for the future, but yet had no way of knowing what that future held between this night of sweet reunion and someday.  The strength of their friendship was the saving grace that bridged that span and gave them enough hope to face separating again.

They put it off, both consciously avoiding the subject of his leaving until, finally, Chantaya sighed and stood, voicing her concern over his lack of rest.  He shrugged, but she shook her head and drew him with her to their small kitchen and fed him leftover soup before again taking his hand and leading him to her door.  He sensed her inner struggle as she smiled and bade him go, while at the same moment, her eyes were awash in tears and she clutched him like she was drowning.  That was so like her to try to smooth his way, in spite of her sadness at his departure.

Placing both hands on her shoulders, he pulled her to him and kissed the soft spot on her temple.  The tears trickled over her eyes and she let out a small sob and kept trying to smile as she scrubbed at the tears, looked back up at him and said, “Go, my friend.  God will continue to watch over you,
Peyton.  He will bring you back to me.  I know he will.  Enjoy this adventure.  Go learn to defend the crown.  Then come back to me.” 

This last was all but a whisper through her tears.  Peyton wrapped his arms around her and held on, drawing strength for the other half of his all night ride through the woods that held far more questionable characters than they should have.  At length, she pushed him away, stepped back and said briskly, “Go, Peyton.  You must leave, or you’ll not make it back and Sir Kendall will not know how truly trustworthy you are.”

He searched her eyes for a long moment, pulled the letter he’d written her from his pocket and gave it to her, drew her close again, kissed her once, almost desperately, then quickly turned and stepped out the door before giving in to the temptation to stay.

                                                      
 
SSSS

Nothing could make Peyton regret his trip home to see Chantaya, but being asked to attend a gathering in the castle courtyard the next evening to demonstrate their latest training made him wish dearly that he’d gotten a little sleep.  ‘Twas truly difficult to appear properly respectful to the king when he struggled to keep from yawning, and even more difficult to appear interested as Princess Clarissa wended her way down a line of squires to commend them.  As she approached, he stood ever straighter, willed himself to be attentive and literally prayed not to yawn in her presence.  He’d already gotten reprimanded for insulting the prince, the last thing he wanted to do, was offend the princess.

Indeed, Princess Clarissa appeared far from offended as she smiled up at him and even leaned in a bit as she fairly gushed her praise in the military prowess he’d just demonstrated.  He nodded, keeping his face completely stoic and struggling to suppress the yawn that threatened.  He noticed the moon rising behind her shoulder and thought back to Chantaya again.  That same moon was rising over the village of Navarre as well.  He hoped she had been able to sleep in and rest before having to do her days work and that she wasn’t as weary in body as he was just then. 

When the gathering finally broke up, he said his farewells and headed back to the garrison.  He fair collapsed into his bedding even as the others in the garrison were still talking and laughing around him.  Turning on his belly, he pulled his pillow over his head and stretched out in exhausted pleasure.  It had been a long two days and his body was stiff from the extra hours riding all night, but it had been heaven to see Chantaya.  He grinned there under his pillow at the image of her climbing from her window, but then the grin relaxed as he remembered how she had felt in his arms.  She had been pure heaven there, and she had looked unbelievably good in that nightgown.

                                                      
 
SSSS 

Peyton and Sir Kendall got only busier as the time drew closer to when Peyton would be officially knighted.  There was much to do in preparation and Peyton was near overwhelmed with all he was to remember.  Of an evening, when he finally stabled his charger and headed back to the garrison to obtain a few precious hours of sleep, he would often look up at that evocative moon and wonder how Chantaya was.  Then, in his bed, he would pray for her.  The time was fairly racing by because of how busy he was, but yet he missed her unbearably.

             
                                        
 
SSSS

Chantaya topped the last rise before Mordecai’s and knew immediately that something was wrong when she looked down upon his small cottage.  He was outside in his horse’s pen, which was typically where she found him, but this time, instead of currying the old horse as it stood, Mordecai was kneeling beside the old white horse as it lay on its side in the pen.  When Chantaya reached the two of them, she found just what she’d feared.  Mordecai’s dear old Wallace had finally reached the end of his earthly existence and was unable to stand and didn’t appear to be long for this world.