Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Page 12

  Osbert chuckled, backing into Fulke’s chamber. “Albin has been known to help his stupors along, Warin.”

  They stepped back after dropping Fulke on the bed.

  “The man is a veritable giant,” Warin breathed.

  Unstrapping Fulke’s bawdryk, Osbert lifted his weapons from him. “One tends to forget when he is more in control of himself.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Lecie’s soft voice brought a flush to Osbert’s face.

  Warin reached for Fulke’s booted foot. “His lordship just needs to sleep it off. Thank you, Lecie.”

  “I shall be turning in now. Should you have need of anything, please seek out the tapster, Hamon.”

  Closing the door softly behind her, Osbert looked wistful. “A man could lose himself in that woman’s eyes.”

  “Let me know when one shows up,” Warin replied dryly. “Would you please keep women off your mind long enough to concentrate on the task at hand?”

  “One day you are bound to be as bad as the rest of us,” Osbert smirked.

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Just grab a leg.”

  As they struggled with Fulke’s boots, they were forced to step back when he flung a muscular arm out. Mumbling incoherently, he rolled over to hug a pillow to him, slurring Reina’s name.

  Warin exchanged a pleased grin with Osbert. “Go back to your wenches, I shall stay with him.”

  Osbert cocked a brow. “You shall remain here all night?”

  “Just be sure to have clean linens sent up first thing in the morn.”

  “At least using our chamber will assure clean linens.”

  Warin wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You doubt their cleanliness, yet you bed them?”

  “Of course. If I am stuck with the homely one, I shall blow out the candle.”

  Closing the door, Warin prepared a pallet behind it. Settling down, he crossed his arms behind his head, staring at the designs cast on the ceiling by the flickering candle. Worried about Reina, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  NINE

  The weak light of dawn filtering through the shutters caused Fulke to stir. Boasting a splitting headache, he pressed the heel of his palms to his throbbing temples. Grateful for the cushioning comfort of a bed beneath him, he flung out an arm, relieved to find himself alone.

  Rolling into a sitting position, he held his head, waiting for the chamber to stop spinning. Taking in his surroundings through slitted eyes, he spotted Warin. Attempting a smile at the lad’s loyalty, it turned into a painful grimace.

  Urgently needing to use the garderobe, he reached for his boots beside the bed. Losing his balance, he fell forward, banging his already pounding head into the wall. Holding his head, he fell back on the bed. The additional pain rendering him speechless.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, my liege?”

  “Aye,” he croaked, stumbling to his feet. “You can help me get my boots on.”

  Raking his hands through his disheveled hair, he staggered down the steps. Glad to find the common room blessedly silent, he careened through the tables to the back of the tavern.

  He was surprised to find Lecie standing behind the bar on his return.

  Her dark hair parted down the middle, pulled back into braids, she eyed his approach. “Good morn, your lordship. I did not have a chance to greet you on your arrival yester-eve."

  Taking a seat before her, Fulke propped both elbows on the bar, supporting his head with his hands. “Morn, Lecie,” he replied hoarsely. “I have yet to see anything good about it.”

  Pouring a mug of ale, she set it down before him. “My mother always said to have a little in the morning of what you had a lot of the night before, your lordship. It will make you feel better.”

  Warily eyeing the mug, he replied, “I shall have to take your word for it.” With a grimace, he tossed back the mug’s contents. Leaning back, he braced his hands on the bar. Keeping his gorge down, he relaxed. “Your mother must be a wise woman, Lecie.”

  “Aye. She was the very best of women, your lordship.”

  Realizing his mistake, Fulke said, “I am sorry for your loss. How did it happen, if you do not mind my asking?”

  “We lost her in childbirth, both she and the babe,” she murmured sadly.

  “I am sorry, lass.” Changing the subject, he ventured, “I do not recall seeing Edric. Does he not tend bar nights?”

  Lecie lowered her eyes. “I fear he is unwell again with the coughing illness that plagues him. He has been bedridden for some time.”

  “I am sorry to hear it, Lecie,” Fulke said softly, resolving to keep his big mouth shut.

  Lecie filled the awkward silence. “I hear that glad tidings are in order on your recent marriage, your lordship.”

  The image of Reina’s pain-filled eyes rose up to haunt him. “Her ladyship would have been better off had she never met me.”

  “Begging your pardon, your lordship, is that not something for your lady to decide?”

  Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation seemed to be taking, he remained silent, toying with his empty mug.

  “Never you mind, your lordship,” she said lightly. “Things always have a way of working out.”

  He gave her a sorrowful smile. “You are wise beyond your years, Lecie.”

  “I oft times feel old beyond my years,” she responded softly.

  Feeling his stomach roil, he chuckled, “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “When you are up to it, I have porridge and warm yeast rolls this morn.”

  “Mayhap when the rest of the men come down to break their fast.”

  The pounding of little feet on the steps drew their attention as two small blond girls with long braids flying sped into view.

  Turning the corner into the tavern, they came to a screeching halt before Fulke. Wide-eyed, they began communicating in hurried whispers.

  Lecie scolded, “Osana and Sabina.”

  Ignoring her, the braver of the two girls stepped forward, the other clinging shyly to the back of her woolen kirtle. Staring up at Fulke, she asked boldly, “Are you a giant?”

  Fulke’s lips twitched as he leaned down to gaze into her golden-brown eyes. “Most tend to think so little one.”

  In reply, the little girl glanced back at her twin, “see, I told you.” Pulling her sister along, they rushed off towards the kitchen.

  Lecie blushed. “I am very sorry, your lordship. I fear they are too bold.”

  Fulke held up a hand. “I take no offense, Lecie. Is there not a small lad usually hard on their heels?”

  “Aye. I best go wake him. Clayton is apt to sleep the morn away, if I let him.” She hesitated. “Would it be too bold to ask after Sir Albin, your lordship? I did not see him with the rest of your men.”

  Running a hand along his jaw, Fulke frowned. The two had not parted on the best of terms. “I am sure he is well. He remains at Castell Maen with Sir Talan and her ladyship.”

  “Thank you.” She lowered her eyes. “Please excuse me.”

  It was not the first time he noticed Lecie’s attraction to Albin. From the sounds of it, her husband suffered with the wasting illness. Although much older than she, it troubled him that she would willingly make a cuckold of a dying man.

  * * * *

  Gone less than a fortnight, Reina still struggled with the overwhelming sorrow threatening to consume her. In order to keep from dwelling on Fulke, she walked with Hylda through the frosty air to the village each morning. Treating a variety of cuts and burns brought on by the season’s tanning process their skills remained in demand.

  On slower days, they spent their time instructing the village women various ways to make healing remedies. Showing them the use of alder bark, she had Thea reveal her healed fingers. She demonstrated how yarrow could be used to fight off infections. Leading them into the woods, she pointed out various herbs that would complement the pottages they served to their families for supper.

  Reina spent most of her fre
e time in the village with Helewys and Thea. Both young widows, she sensed sorrow in the sisters that matched her own.

  Evenings were the hardest. Often passed in the Great Hall, she found comfort in being around others who cared for Fulke. Talan and Albin would often share tales of his past exploits in battle. Her heart ached to hear it, even as she yearned for more.

  One evening as she sat stitching by the fire with Hylda, Talan approached. “Would you be willing to show me how to converse with you, my lady?”

  Grateful to have a task to keep her occupied, she faced Hylda. “Inform Sir Talan it would please me greatly, Hylda.”

  Averting her lips, Hylda spoke to the knight.

  Seeing his eyes flare wide in surprise, Reina sighed. Arching a brow at Hylda, she drummed her fingers on the armrest until she reluctantly met her gaze. “Tell him in my words, if you please.”

  Facing her, Hylda grudgingly amended her response. “My lady would be pleased to instruct you.”

  Reina stood to gesture for Talan to take a seat at the table. Taking a seat beside Hylda, she entreated, “Please behave yourself.”

  “When do I not?”

  Shaking her head at Hylda’s surprised expression, Reina smiled for the first time since Fulke left.

  From that evening on, the trio spent their evenings together. During those times when the quiet knight opened up to them, Reina could see why the ladies were so attracted to him. Beneath the solemn exterior, she found a genuine friend.

  Turning his chair, Albin would often follow their progress from his place beside the fire, waving off their numerous attempts to include him.

  Doing remarkably well, Hylda began to add her own twist to Reina’s words. Turning in such a way Reina could not follow, Hylda found humor in eliciting startled looks from Talan.

  Seeing Talan’s eyes widen in alarm to an innocent query or response, she would chastise Hylda.

  It did not take Talan long to catch on. Determined to put a stop to it, he approached Reina before Hylda joined them one evening. “My lady, I was wondering if perhaps you would allow me to jest with Hylda.”

  Reina smiled mischievously. “What shall we do?”

  By the time Hylda entered the hall, they were sitting quietly at the table, waiting for her. Taking a seat beside Talan, she smiled smugly. “Mayhap you will stagger us and learn something this eve, Sir Talan.”

  “I have no doubt I shall,” Talan replied with a smirk.

  Fighting a smile, Reina said, “Sir Talan, would you care to sup?”

  He turned in feigned affront to Hylda. “Did her ladyship just ask me if I would care to tup?”

  “Do not be a fool,” she snapped. “She inquired if you would care to sup.”

  Talan leapt to his feet. “My liege shall hear what you are about during his absence, my lady.”

  Hylda sat slack-jawed staring after Talan as he stalked from the hall.

  Laughing, Reina covered her face with her hands to hide her mirth.

  Hylda patted her back in comfort.

  Glancing up, Reina took in Hylda’s stunned expression as Talan rejoined them. “Will you concede I have learned enough to carry a conversation with the lady on my own, Hylda?”

  “Aye, it would seem so,” she admitted.

  Reina patted her hand. “We did not mean to alarm you overmuch, Hylda. You did, however, have it coming, did you not?”

  Hylda’s weathered cheeks held the hint of a blush as she stood. “Since I am no longer needed, I shall take my leave. That tetchy castellan is in need of a sound tongue lashing.”

  “Hylda, please do not give Rowan such a hard time. He means well.”

  “It took me a full day to search the woods for the herbs he discarded for weeds,” she replied stubbornly.

  “He did not know what they were to be used for.”

  “If he did not guard the larder key like a ferocious beasty, I would not have been forced to dry them in the hall.”

  Following her flight towards the kitchens, Reina wished there was some way to warn Rowan.

  She turned back to Talan when he lightly touched her sleeve. “My lady, may I ask you a personal question?”

  Surprised by the request, Reina replied, “Of course, Talan. What is it you wish to know?”

  “Did we do wrong in telling you about Fulke’s past, my lady?”

  Speechless for a moment, Reina slowly shook her head. “I am grateful to you both for telling me, Talan. I only wish Fulke would have cared enough to tell me himself.”

  “If I may be so bold my lady, my liege does care for you, a great deal I would wager, for no other reason would he leave.”

  “Yet, not enough to return to me,” she replied sadly.

  At a loss, Talan reached out to touch her hand. “You must hold to the faith that he will find his way, my lady.”

  * * * *

  On the nights Talan played chess with Albin, Reina’s sorrow would become unbearable. Excusing herself, she would seek out her chamber.

  Before long, the two knights recognized the pattern. Stowing the board away, they quit playing altogether.

  She found solace in her stitching. Creating something beautiful out of nothing, she spent hours embroidering before the fire. It was only when her eyes began to blur that she would retire to the empty Lord’s chamber. Dressed in Fulke’s dressing gown, she curled up on his side of the bed to hug his pillow, weeping until exhaustion claimed her.

  * * * *

  Waking in the dawns early light, Reina could not summon the energy to spend the day in the village.

  Several times throughout the night, she had woken to the same nightmare. Frozen in place, Fulke stood just out of reach with his back to her. He walked away as she screamed and begged him not to leave her, but he kept going because he could not hear her.

  The last time she woke to nightmares, Fulke had left her. With a sense of foreboding, she feared something was about to happen that would keep them apart forever.

  Finished dressing, she sat on the edge of the bed to braid her hair. Seeing the door swing open, her hands stilled. Walking in with his eyes clenched tight, Talan frantically waved his arms.

  Panicked at what would make him enter her chamber in such a way, she rushed over to him.

  Touching his arm mid-swing, he opened his eyes with relief. “I beg your pardon my lady, I searched but could not find a single female about to summon you.”

  Squeezing his forearm, she managed, “Is it Fulke?”

  “No my lady,” he shook his head. “I fear this concerns you.”

  Searching his steady blue gaze, her heart began to pound. “I do not understand.”

  “Four of King Henry’s men-at-arms are below. They have come to escort you to London for an audience with the king.”

  Fear widened her eyes. “The king has summoned me?”

  “Aye. His men insist on departing as soon as you prepare yourself.”

  “Am I to go unaccompanied, Talan?” praying Fulke would care enough to come for her.

  Misconstruing her words, he hastened to reassure her. “No, my lady, Albin and I will escort you.”

  “What of Fulke, Talan?” She gripped his arm, fearing the answer.

  “I regret to say the king’s men have come for you alone.”

  Dropping her hand, Reina stepped back, stunned.

  If you wish, I can send for Hylda,” Talan offered.

  Her thoughts reeling, she absently replied. “I believe it best for Hylda to remain here. She has never sat a horse before.”

  “I shall not leave your side, my lady. The king will have no other way to converse with you.”

  “Do you think he wishes to see me as testimony to Fulke’s marriage?” she asked hopefully.

  “I am afraid I do not know why the king wishes an audience with you.”

  Reina wrung her hands nervously. “I shall need a moment to prepare myself.”

  “You have nothing to fear, my lady. We shall let no harm befall you,” Talan reassured her
.

  Distracted, she rambled, “Please have Rowan inform Hylda what has transpired as soon as she returns. She is bound to be anxious.”

  Talan gripped her shoulders until he had her full attention. “No harm shall befall you, my lady, I vow it.”

  Reina forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Talan.”

  He dropped his hands. “I shall await you below.”

  Before he closed the door, she had her clothing chest flung open. Snatching at anything that came to hand, she quickly bundled them together.

  Packing the rest of her things, she began to pray.

  * * * *

  “We wait no longer. Her ladyship has adequate escort.”

  “You will wait. It was your decision not to split up to summon his lordship,” Talan responded angrily to the guard.

  “The king gave explicit orders to return with her ladyship. Whether or not his lordship follows, is by his own choosing,” the king’s man shot back.

  Following the conversation, Reina feared they would be forced to depart without Albin. Walking a short distance away, she nervously scanned the path leading to the village,

  Just when she thought the king’s men would wait no longer, she spotted Albin cresting a rise. Closing her eyes in relief, she willed her racing heart to slow.

  The king’s men left to gather their horses as Albin dismounted beside her. “I apologize for the delay, my lady. The only available man I could find with a horse was the ostler. He rides for Rochester as we speak.”

  Reina smiled her thanks as he moved to assist her. Lifting her up on a small mare, he returned to his own horse. She smoothed her skirts with trembling hands, before reaching for the reins.

  Setting off behind the guard, Talan rode close beside her until she felt compelled to look at him. “I keep my vows, my lady.”

  “I did not think otherwise, Talan,” she responded with a sincere smile.

  * * * *

  Fulke was supervising work in the inner-ward when a peasant rode up on a lathered horse. Somewhat familiar to him, he tried to place the burly man as he dismounted. “Your lordship, I come from Castell Maen with news.”