Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Page 26

  They were home.

  Nearing the castle, she spotted Hylda standing on the ramparts with Rowan’s arm resting on her shoulders.

  Fulke kissed her brow to get her attention. “It appears that we need not have worried overmuch for Hylda, my love.”

  “It would appear not, my lord,” she replied with a smile, overjoyed Hylda had found someone.

  In the courtyard, Warin waited to assist her. Before her feet touched the ground, Hylda reached to embrace her.

  “Saints be praised,” she stepped back with wide eyes. “My Reina is to be a mother.” Gathering her in her arms, she embraced her again with more care.

  Turning to Fulke, she surprised everyone by launching herself at him. Wrapping her arms around his lean waist, she stepped back with tears in her eyes. “I never doubted you would return with her, your lordship.”

  With an affectionate smile, he replied, “I would never have dared disappoint you, Hylda.” Glancing over at Rowan, he teased, “It appears you have made amends with my castellan during our absence.”

  “My dealings are my own, your lordship,” Hylda sniffed.

  Fulke laughed. “Truth be told, I missed that sharp wit of yours, Hylda.”

  Wiping tears of relief from her cheeks, Hylda said softly, “Welcome home, your lordship.”

  * * * *

  Winter slowly gave way to spring. As the vibrant flowers bloomed, so did Reina. One beautiful sunny day, Fulke lay propped on his elbows beside her in a glade of wildflowers.

  Listening to the droning of bees, the birds chirping, and the wind rustling through the trees, he imagined what life would be like without them.

  Astonished Reina could find so much beauty in a silent world, he stared down at her in complete awe. Caressing the line of her throat with his fingertip, he had never before known such peace.

  Watching a pair of gold and black butterflies flutter on a current of air above her, she shifted her eyes to him.

  “You astound me,” he said humbly, “I cannot imagine what it is like for you, not to hear the slightest sound.”

  She caressed his cheek. “I do the best with what God has given me.” Pulling him down for a kiss, she smiled, “Besides, he sent me you to make up for it.”

  * * * *

  As spring gave way to the heat of summer, Reina’s movements became sluggish. Her lower back began to ache and she could no longer make the long walk to the village without becoming fatigued. To the relief of all, she eventually stopped going altogether.

  Nearing her time, Fulke remained close to Castell Maen. Albin seemed both eager and hesitant when asked to go to Rochester in Fulke’s stead.

  By way of messenger, Fulke learned Henry was calling for a progress report on the tower. Finding Albin in the courtyard, he said, “The king’s messenger will arrive in Rochester within days.”

  “I shall depart on the morrow.” He looked sideways at Fulke. “With your permission, I shall ask Talan to go along.”

  “Talan wishes to travel to Rochester with you?” Fulke asked in surprise.

  “Do not seem so taken aback,” Albin replied sarcastically. “You would be surprised what could happen when two people are thrown together.”

  Fulke smiled in remembrance. “I would not be surprised at all, my friend.”

  “Besides,” Albin continued, “the lad is love-sick for a young woman from the village.”

  “Our Talan has shown an interest in a woman?”

  Albin chuckled. “Aye, he set his sights on the Sheriff’s daughter.”

  Fulke shook his head. “I know a few of her brothers. Leave it to Talan to take on such a lofty goal. Still, I believe they would do well together.”

  “You would not find me wagering against him,” Albin conceded.

  “I shall have to put in a good word for him on my next visit,” Fulke said thoughtfully.

  Albin rolled his eyes. “I am sure Talan will be most grateful.”

  Fulke laughed. “I am that obvious, am I?”

  “Aye,” Albin replied, “but I am glad to see you so content, my friend.”

  “I never believed it possible, Albin. You have my thanks for going in my stead.”

  “Your thanks are not necessary,” he paused.

  “What is it, Albin?

  “The village does not have a barber. Do you think your lady would trim my hair?”

  “Of course, you have but to ask her.” He studied Albin before asking, “Why the sudden concern about your appearance? It would have naught to do with making an impression on the fair Lecie, would it my friend?”

  “Of course not, I am a man of honor,” Albin flushed.

  “Wherever your path may lead, I shall stand by you,” he said softly.

  Albin looked down. “I never doubted it, Fulke.”

  Turning away, Fulke called over his shoulder, “Just remember. I shall expect you to kneel when you lay your humble thanks at my feet.”

  Watching him go, Albin grunted, “Thanks indeed.”

  * * * *

  For a few pints at the tavern, the master builder in Rochester drew up plans for modest fortified manor houses for the knights and they eagerly set about making plans for construction. Seeing no way out, even Albin seemed resigned to the fact that he would be a landless knight no longer.

  As the babe lowered, Reina discovered she had her own personal guard. Whenever she neared the steps, one of the men would emerge by her side to assist her.

  In the evenings, when she sought the solitude of their chamber, Fulke would hold her or rub her aching back. Before he stopped altogether, he made love to her as if she were made of glass.

  One afternoon he found her resting in her chemise, curled up on her side. Disrobing, he stretched out on his side behind her, splaying his hand lightly against the large swell of their child. The metallic taste of iron flooded his mouth as icy tendrils of fear began to creep around his heart.

  If he were to lose Reina in childbirth, he knew he would never survive it. Despite himself, he felt a surge of resentment towards his child and the power it held over him. Almost as if in answer, he felt a strong kick beneath his palm.

  Stretching his hand over the spot, his troubled gaze settled on his sleeping wife. Would he be like her father if something were to happen to his only love? With a sad sigh of resignation, he knew the answer. So long as a part of Reina lived on, he would love their child.

  In the long hot days that followed, Reina felt him emotionally pulling away from her. Assuring her all was well, he began to avoid all mention of the babe.

  Standing by the unlit hearth one evening, he followed her slow movements as she enjoyed the breeze by the window. Besieged by images of all that could go wrong, she glanced over at him.

  Rising, she approached to cup his face. “I beseech you not to leave me again, my love.”

  He caressed her cheek. “I vowed to never willingly leave your side again, my lady.”

  She lowered her hand to cover his heart. “No Fulke, I beseech you not to leave me again.”

  Understanding slammed into him. With a look of despair, Fulke fell to his knees to wrap his arms around her. Looking up, he pleaded, “Then do not leave me Reina, this I beseech you.”

  Gently running her fingers through his hair, she tenderly gazed down at him. “One day, a troubadour will tell the tale of a brave knight who took on a king for the love of his lady. What kind of ending would it be if it were to end unhappily, my lord?” Cupping his face, she looked intently into his frightened eyes. “I am stronger than you give me credit for, Fulke. If need be, do not think for one moment I would leave your side without a fight.”

  Rising to hold her, he rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Should it come to pass I pray you win my love, or it shall kill us both,” he whispered.

  * * * *

  The day after they celebrated Albin and Talan’s return from Rochester, Reina sat stitching in the Great Hall with Warin, her assigned companion for the day.

  Once aga
in polishing the blade Fulke had given him, the men teased it would blind the French with its glare from across the channel.

  Embroidering a linen gown for the babe, Reina reached for a different colored thread as a crippling pain ripped through her, doubling her over. Gasping, she clutched her stomach and felt a rush of warm liquid soak the back of her kirtle.

  Dropping his sword, Warin leapt to her side as she struggled to rise. “Tell me what to do, Reina.”

  Leaning heavily against him, she gasped for breath as the pain subsided. “Help me to my chamber and fetch Hylda from the village.”

  They reached the steps when another wave of pain left her gasping.

  Unable to move forward, she said, “Warin, summon one of the knights.”

  She stood doubled over with her hands on her stomach as Warin ran through the door straight into Gervase. “Reina needs assist,” he rambled in a panic.

  Gervase just stared at him, perplexed.

  Realizing he had not spoken aloud, Warin shouted, “Reina!” gesturing anxiously towards the steps.

  * * * *

  Taking in Reina’s posture, Gervase ran to sweep her up in his arms. Climbing the steps as fast as he dared, he called, “Fetch Hylda, lad.”

  He faltered in the passageway when Reina tensed in his arms from another wave of pain. Kicking the door open to the solar, he carried her to the bed. Easing her down, he propped several down-filled pillows behind her.

  Seeing him glance nervously towards the door, Reina forced a smile.

  “Hylda shall be here soon, my lady,” he reassured her, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. Glancing over his shoulder, he visibly relaxed to see Talan burst into the room.

  Rushing to the bed, Talan knelt down. “I spotted Warin riding hard for the village, the babe comes?”

  “Aye,” Gervase replied nervously. Staring wide-eyed at Reina, she blushed at his intense regard.

  Talan pushed him away. “Make yourself useful lack-wit and start a fire.”

  “Fulke should be back with Hylda soon, my lady,” Talan said, reaching for her hand. “What can I do?”

  “I need, Hylda.”

  “The fire’s lit, Talan.” Gervase said anxiously.

  “Put water on to boil and go see what is taking Hylda so long,” Talan called over his shoulder.

  Setting the kettle on the hook above the kindled fire, Gervase gladly quit the room. Racing outside, he scanned the distance, relieved to see Fulke and Warin tearing up the turf on their way back to the castle.

  Albin came running through the side gate with Guy hard on his heels. “The babe comes?”

  “Aye,” he called anxiously, “Talan is with her.”

  Drawing up beside him, Albin asked, “When did the pains start?”

  “I do not know, Albin. The lady is in a great deal of pain.” He pounded a fist into his hand. “I feel so bloody helpless.”

  Out of breath, Albin replied, “I fear there is nothing we can do but pray.”

  * * * *

  Fulke had ridden out early that morning to discuss the upcoming harvest with the tenants. Walking through the village, he smiled to notice the women going about their daily chores dressed in costly silk and velvet kirtles.

  Fulke was standing beside Rowan talking with a group of crofters when he spotted Warin galloping towards them. His heart racing, he asked, “Where is Hylda?”

  Already running for his horse, Rowan shouted after him, “I last saw her by Thea’s hut, your lordship!”

  Bellowing her name, Hylda came running from inside the hut as Fulke reared-up before it. One look at his frightened face and she knew. She ran to Warin as he reigned up beside Fulke. “Hurry lad, you need to boost me onto the back of his lordship’s horse.”

  Without pause, Warin dismounted. Cupping his hands, he boosted Hylda up behind Fulke before vaulting back into his saddle.

  “Hold tight, Hylda,” he called over his shoulder. Reining around, Fulke spurred his horse in the direction of the castle.

  With her skirts hiked to her knees, Hylda wrapped her arms tightly around Fulke’s waist. Clenching her eyes shut, she held on for dear life.

  Reining up before his men in the courtyard, he dismounted to sweep Hylda from the saddle. Holding her high against his chest, he sprinted for the hall. Taking the steps two at a time, he raced by the men. “Who is with her?”

  Hard on his heels, Albin called, “Talan.”

  * * * *

  Leading Warin’s horse, Guy absently bent to retrieve the reins of Fulke’s lathered horse. Heading for the stables, he caught sight of Gervase standing dumbstruck by the castle entrance.

  “Whatever is wrong with you now, Gervase?”

  It took a moment for Gervase to respond, the image of Hylda riding astride behind Fulke flashing through his mind. Her brown woolen kirtle hiked up well past her ageing thighs, her long braid bouncing in the wind as her bony knees gripped the sides of the horse for dear life.

  “There are some things in life that I am just not meant to see,” Gervase replied softly.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Fulke burst into the solar. Setting Hylda on her feet, he glimpsed Reina’s pain filled face. “What can I do, Hylda?”

  “This is no place for men, your lordship,” brushing him aside, she continued, “Women from the village are on their way.”

  Catching sight of Reina gasping on the bed, Albin choked out, “I shall see what is keeping them.”

  Fulke knelt to hold Reina’s hand against his cheek. His tortured gaze fixed on her pale face. “Were it possible, I would bear your pain, Reina.”

  She attempted to comfort him when a strong pain left her gasping. Curling into herself, she clutched her stomach with her free hand.

  Fulke’s face turned ashen as he watched her struggle for breath. “I beg of you to remember your vow to me, my love.”

  Through the pain, Reina smiled. Waiting for a wave of pain to subside, she managed, “It would take more than this slight discomfort to keep me from your side.”

  “I shall never put you through this again. If it means I must remain chaste for the remainder of my life so be it,” he rambled brokenly.

  Bending to wash her hands in a bowl of hot water, Hylda snapped, “Your lordship, you must depart.”

  “I shall not leave my wife, Hylda,” he said, taking in Reina’s pain-filled eyes.

  Hylda glanced up from her task in surprise. “You cannot think of staying, your lordship. It is unheard of.”

  “King Henry could not drag me from her side,” he stated firmly, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

  She assessed him a moment. “Then you may as well make yourself useful.” Instructing him to sit against the headboard, Hylda guided Reina between his legs so he could ease her back against him.

  Too weak to argue one way or another, Reina rested her head back against his chest.

  Hylda pushed Reina’s knees up. Hearing a choked sound, she glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see Talan still standing there. Before she could open her mouth to order him out, he fled on his own.

  Wrapping his arms protectively around Reina’s shoulders, Fulke laid his cheek on the top of her head willing her strength.

  When a wave of pain held her in its grip, she would clench his knees with white knuckles until it passed.

  “Push against it now Reina, push,” Hylda instructed.

  Struggling to push as another wave crested, Reina gasped weakly for breath.

  Unable to bear it any longer, Fulke shouted, “It is killing her, Hylda! Do something, I beg of you,” he finished brokenly.

  * * * *

  Helewys came rushing into the hall beside Thea. Leading them up the steps to the lord’s solar, Albin caught Fulke’s pained exclamation as they entered. Numbly backing away from the door, he returned to the hall. Ignoring the anxious gazes of the men, he reached for a jug of ale with trembling hands. Tilting it back, he drank until he could take no more. He slammed it back on the table to
belch loudly in the silence.

  Only Talan summoned the courage to ask uneasily, “What is it Albin?”

  Unable to communicate his fears, Albin shook his head. Stumbling over to a chair before the hearth, he fell into it.

  Exchanging worried looks, the men glanced up when one of the village women came rushing down the steps. They waited in silence as she rushed past them only to return a moment later with a knife.

  Gervase blocked Thea’s path. “What need have you with a knife?”

  “It is necessary to deliver the babe, Sir Knight.”

  “Why is it taking so long?” he pressed.

  “Her ladyship is having a difficult time of it, sir,” Thea replied softly.

  Eyeing the knife nervously, his eyes widened as the implication struck home. Before he could open his mouth, Talan reached over to cuff him sharply. Turning to Thea, he said, “See to the lady.”

  Following her flight back up the steps with a troubled gaze, Talan joined Albin. “All will be well,” he spoke aloud to reassure himself.

  Warin dropped on the bench by the table to pick up the pitcher Albin discarded. Tipping it back, he drained it.

  Turning to Guy, Gervase asked, “Why would they need a knife? You do not think they mean to…” he could not finish the thought.

  Guy wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leading him to the table. “This is the one time I will tell you not to think, Gervase.” Pouring a tankard of ale, he handed it to him.

  Well on his way to being drunk, Albin spotted Rowan hovering by the steps. “You may as well join us, Rowan,” he bellowed.

  The usually reserved castellan took a seat on the bench across from Warin. He gestured to a tankard. “May I?”

  Warin slid a tankard his way. “You are family now, Rowan. Hylda has been as much a mother to me as she has to Reina.”

  “I know for Hylda to get on that horse with his lordship, she loves her mistress deeply.” Rowan raised his tankard. “To her ladyship’s health.”