by Susan Payne
“I have fifteen years, Madam, and I’m a hard worker and am determined to become a warrior if I never make Knight.”
“Then I can give you some instruction, but first you should build the strength in your arms and shoulders. Your legs too must be strong enough to hold your position while wielding a broadsword.” She made the decision. “I lift kegs now, but I began with logs and kept getting bigger and bigger logs until I was strong enough to carry the broadsword and control my swings. Accuracy is a must and if you cannot wield it properly then you are a danger to yourself and the other men in your troop.”
“I understand, Madam. I’m thought of as strong already by most. Probably because I lift the bags of grain and all the equipment from saddles to wagon gear. Will you truly help me learn how to be a knight?” Leo asked his eyes bright with promise.
“I will. Give yourself a few weeks of lifting weights first then I will take my broadsword with us one day. We can practice away from the fortress. Until you feel more confident, we will keep this between the two of us.”
“Yes, Madam.” His broad smile made her smile widely in return. “Did you want, Lancelot, saddled now? Do you need someone to ride out with you?”
Jillian had been riding every day since Lady Edith said exercise would be good for her and as long as she wasn’t galloping or taking jumps. There would be no danger for Jillian to ride out in the fields close to the outer-wall.
“Yes, I’ll take him out towards the woods but won’t go very far. I’m sure the guards will keep me in their sight.”
“Yes, Madam. I’ll expect you back in two hours then. Do you wish to take the Pup with you? He’d like the run.”
Jillian looked at the cage where the dogs were resting. She knew the one Pup from the others even though they were all identical to some people. They had formed a bond the day he saved her life by attacking the wild boar and she had saved his by carrying him back to the keep on her lap.
She smiled again saying, “Yes, Pup, can come along. Lancelot is used to him running beneath his feet.”
Soon Jillian, horse and dog were riding out through the open gate towards the woods. As she had told Leo, she rode along the edge of the forest and kept watch for any sort of predator. Although the forest did not have the underbrush that wild boar liked, there was the chance they were hiding there or crossing through to get to better feeding areas. Pup ran ahead and returned, nose to the ground catching scent of something interesting, but soon losing attention just as young children do when another scent crossed his path.
This was the most freedom Jillian ever felt lately. Everyone was so solicitous in the house she was going mad with it. Even Agatha had done a complete reversal of opinion since it was announced Jillian would be producing the next generation. It began with Agatha greeting her with a cup of the hot tea that calmed Jillian’s stomach one morning and she had been doing little things for Jillian ever since.
Jillian at first wondered if the cup had been poisoned but then realized the woman was trying to make up for her previous antagonism. It seemed that if Jillian was bearing Gawain’s child then she must be planning on staying. Agatha must have then decided to accept Jillian as a family member, which brought about the new behavior.
That behavior included making baby clothes out of the linen and muslin bought from the cloth merchant. The women of the keep made their own wools, both yarns and woven goods which, she was told, would make up the rest of the baby’s layette. The solicitation was about to drive her mad and these rides were what kept her from feeling too tied down.
Pup was darting in and out of the trees but never strayed far from Jillian on Lancelot. When she didn’t see him for a while, she whistled as the stablemaster had shown her and one yelp was all she heard in response.
“Pup, here boy!” she called and reined in Lancelot trying to remember where she last saw the dog going into the trees. She called again and urged her horse into the woods hoping that Pup would bark again.
The dog barked twice and then nothing. Jillian was sure she knew from which direction the sound came and rode her horse on, calling as she went, hoping for Pup’s repeat of his bark.
Lancelot went down, buckling at his front right knee. Jillian, unprepared for the lunge was pitched forward over the horse’s head when that animal came to an abrupt stop. She lay on the damp dirt, the odor of rotting leaves and mushrooms heavy in her nostrils.
Her first thought was of how Lady Edith told her riding would not be harmful as long as she did not take a fall. And how Jillian said she had never been thrown from a horse in her life and Lancelot was not the kind to be skittish, even if he fell into a pit of adders.
Trying to tell if she were bleeding or if there were any pain in her stomach, she was relieved when she found nothing but an ache in her ankle. She would never forgive herself if her need for freedom caused injury to her unborn child.
Placing her hand over her still flat stomach, she whispered, “Stay tight little one. I’ll get you home.”
Lancelot was neighing and whinnying in fear as he tried to pull his leg from a hole that appeared in their path, the left knee resting against the ground as he repeatedly tried to stand using his hind legs. His cannon was scraped and the pastern bleeding slightly from a cut as he tried getting himself out of the hole. She could see the wounds as she tried to get to Lancelot’s head.
Jillian stood to help then fell back, her left foot twisted in the stirrup when Lancelot went down. Pain shot through her and she winced, crying out in distress as she toppled back to the ground. She reached for her ankle trying to ease the pain.
Using soothing tones, she calmed the horse, her voice settling him as he snorted with increased breaths. At least he stopped fighting to pull his leg out of the mud and waited, winded and sweating.
Rolling across the wet soil to her horse, she studied the hole, which did not seem to have been made by an animal. It was more of a hollow underground. The horse had broken through the thin top layer and faltered when his hoof stopped at the bottom of the pocket. Tripping him when he couldn’t find his footing.
Using Lancelot as a brace, she stood and again spoke calmly to her mount. She helped the horse use his three sure feet, backing him up rather than leading him forward. She was not sure how compact the soil in front of them was and she didn’t want another accident.
Finally, Lancelot was backing out towards the edge of the forest but he, too, was lame.
She settled him and then dropped to the ground worried about how she was to get home. Pup came over to her whining, knowing her actions weren’t how she normally played with him. He went to Lancelot and the large horse met him nose to nose and the Pup returned to Jillian on the ground, again whining his worry.
Petting his head, she said, “I don’t think I can make it anywhere, Pup, so you need to get MacDuff and Bride to find me before it gets dark and cold. Come on, you can do it boy. Go get, MacDuff.” She pushed him away repeating his sire’s name until the Pup jumped and barked and ran out of the trees.
Hoping the young dog wouldn’t become distracted and that when he got to the keep someone would notice he was back while she and Lancelot were not. Otherwise, it would be nightfall before anyone thought about where she was. Other than Leo, no one knew where she was headed. She had gone further than she intended following Pup along in his excitement of being free of the rest of the pack.
Jillian now wished she had brought a cape or jacket of some sort. The dampness seeped through to her skin and the lack of sunlight to warm the bottom of the woods added to her discomfort.
She could tell Lancelot’s leg was swollen and hoped he hadn’t done any permanent damage. She used soothing words to keep the horse, which was in pain, from getting more agitated. Now all she could do was wait.
It seemed an interminable length of time. The sun was sinking and the chill turned into cold when she heard the baying of the dogs. That was followed by the racket of the pack running into the forest and the sound of horses’ ho
oves right behind them. She was surrounded by dogs whining and licking her face, sniffing over everything before returning to lick her face again.
Jillian called out and she saw men’s shapes in the gloom and knew she was in for a verbal lashing once her husband assured himself, she and their child were unhurt. But it was better than spending the night out in the cold.
The other men stayed back, letting him go to his wife sitting on the ground, her injured horse standing, favoring its front left leg a short distance away. Gawain came close and knelt down, his gaze going over her face and then the rest of her body.
“Are you hurt? Is the bairn safe?”
“We are both fine, except for my ankle which got hung up in the stirrup. I don’t know what happened but Lancelot went down. We weren’t going very fast at the time, just a rabbit burrow or something.”
“I’ll get you back home so Lady Edith can see to you. Put your arms around my neck.” He stood after lifting her up in both arms letting her feet dangle. Walking her to his horse, he placed her on his saddle and turned toward the other men, all seeming rather out of place and uncomfortable.
“Someone take charge of the horse and get it back to the keep. You, others are relieved of duty and I thank you for your concern for the safety of my lady wife.”
There were mumblings of good wishes for Jillian’s health and then Gawain nudged his horse into motion, heading out of the forest and across the field. He lay his head close to his wife’s and, not expecting an answer, asked, “How am I to protect you without making you feel a prisoner?”
Gawain thought it best not to say anything more. He was so relieved she and the child were not hurt, but he had prepared for the worse. That pain in his heart was worse than any wound he had ever suffered on the field of battle. The fear when he was told the pup that had accompanied Jillian on her ride came back alone was worse than any, he ever had for him or his men facing armed enemies.
His question to his wife was not facetious. It was the main question in his mind as soon as he saw she was alive. How did he keep her that way if she would not stay safely within the walls of the stockade? He wasn’t sure his heart could take any more near-death fears for his wife. He knew it would break if anything happened to her.
Jillian didn’t have an answer for him.
As they entered the bailey, it seemed as if they were greeted by every man, woman and child left there. Again, talk of her missing must have made the entire round of the keep. At least the other men in the search party kept the dogs with them or there would have been more chaos.
Instead, Leo came up to hold Gawain’s horse so he could carry Jillian into the keep where Lady Edith and Lord Riley met them with worried expressions.
“I am fine, Father, really.” Then to Lady Edith said quietly, “The babe seems fine, no pain no…anything. I wrenched my ankle and it will heal in a day or so. I have had such injuries before.”
Lady Edith followed them into their sleeping chamber and shooed Gawain away as he hovered protectively.
“I’ll make sure all is well, Gawain. Go and warm up or something. I have a calming tea coming for Jillian and she seems unharmed as she told us. Do not work yourself up now that everything is safe.”
Practically pushing him out the door, that fine lady closed it in his face then turned to Jillian admonishing her, “What were you thinking to take a fall like that so soon into your pregnancy? It can jar the baby lose from the womb and it will be expelled by the body.”
“I, I didn’t mean to endanger my baby. I wasn’t galloping or even cantering, we were going through the wooded area, no underbrush and no sign of animals when Lancelot just, I don’t know, dropped through the ground. Like mayhaps through the top of a rabbit warren dug too close to the surface or something. It certainly was not a typical spot to find one. As I said, there was no cover for protection.”
Jillian was contrite and had not been doing anything dangerous.
Lady Edith gave a deep sigh. “Then I hope you are right in that you did not harm the child.” As an afterthought, she added, “You never lost consciousness, felt nauseous or dizzy?”
“No, it was more in slow motion. I put out my hands to catch myself as Lancelot’s left leg went through and I would have been fine except my boot twisted in the stirrup. I was not set free until after I was on the ground. Lancelot took the worse of it,” she explained.
“That's all and well, for Lancelot isn’t carrying the Laird’s child.”
Ann was at the door with the hot tisane and all further admonishments and recriminations ceased. Jillian insisted everyone go down to supper and that the rest of the clan be assured she had a minor sprain, which needed rest. They were to let it be known the future heir was safe and secure, also.
Lady Edith agreed that was the best way to go on and the two of them convinced Gawain to go down to supper. That Jillian was fine and needed to keep the ankle elevated in her room.
Ann brought a meal, but Jillian didn’t have much of an appetite. Now that she was assured the babe was fine, she worried about Lancelot and how his leg was. Hoping he wouldn’t need to be put down if it was worse than a sprain.
The sound of her husband entering the room had her worrying more about how he was going to handle her not following his orders about having a rider go out with her when she left the bailey.
“Both you and the bairn are fine? I know I have asked but I worry you are keeping something from me so I will not get angry. Lady Edith was up here with you for quite a while.”
“We are both fine, husband. There are no signs the babe did not ride out the fall in comfort. I would not hide such information from you even if I feared a beating,” she tried to tease and reassure him at the same time.
He looked up at her with serious eyes and told her, “If I thought such punishment would make you hesitate to take risks, I might consider it. You keep frightening me past endurance sometimes and then I am so glad to see you still breathing, I forgive you anything.”
Jillian was humbled by this man’s honesty as to his weakness for her and she wanted to assure him she did not intentionally do things to endanger her life or that of their child’s.
“I would never do anything to harm this child I carry and I do not do things without thinking of the consequences first. Lancelot should not have fallen at all, but it was as if the ground gave way,” she tried to explain the unusual circumstance.
Gawain carried her to the bed and laid her down, undressing quickly to slide in beside her. He leaned over asking, “Are your breasts still tender?” As he kissed each one lightly on the side and slid further down her body to press kisses over her stomach where he determined the baby lay. “Is this the right place, do you think?”
Jillian’s breath caught in her throat as she answered, “Y-y-yes, but I told you he’s fine.”
“So, you think it is a boy, too? Lady Edith has predicted it as such.” He gave one last kiss there and continued down to the soft curls and positioned himself to give her pleasure.
“Gawain, you don’t have to do that. I can make love as usual. Lady Edith gave me no indication she was worried about the babe,” she coaxed him to return to her side.
“I want to be here. Let me do this for you.” He covered the engorged bud eagerly awaiting his attentions.
After Jillian reached her peak, the inner trembling calmed and soothed, Gawain returned to her side leaving his hand over her lower stomach in protective ownership.
“We can do more if you like,” she offered. “I am not opposed to giving you pleasure, husband.”
“Perhaps in the morning when I’m sure you have come to no harm. I just want to lay next to you and know you are safe,” he admitted setting the pattern for their intimate moments again, both evening and early morning as when they were first handfasted.
Jillian, exhausted, fell asleep right after they stopped talking. It took a little longer for Gawain to relax and feel comfortable enough to sleep.
His mind kept going
back to when Leo had come running to find him when the pup came back without Jillian. That was the first he knew she had left the keep without an escort again. And once again his heart almost burst with dread as he yelled at his men to hurry with the readying of their mounts and questioning the men on the walls as to which direction she had gone when she left.
When he realized how long she had been absent, his worst fears were set loose to taunt him that she had finally left him and sent the dog home once she was far enough away. He could not divest himself of those worries until he calmed and thought more rationally. Knowing she would not leave her father, the only thing he could hold on to was that she would be found safe. Anyway, that is what he kept telling himself. Otherwise he would be tempted to lock her in a room with him being the only key holder.
That seemed desperate, even to relieve his uncertainties. He had to control his fear of losing her as well as her wanting to leave him, this home he made for her. He could not think of a safe way for Jillian to have the needed freedom without placing her and now their unborn child in danger. Why couldn’t she see that as well? He had never been in so much disquiet in his life. And feeling so blessed at the same time.
The next few days, Jillian limped around the keep and rested with her foot on a pillow until the swelling went down and the purple bruise turned a brownish yellow. Ann checked on her every half hour and Lady Edith or her father, often both together, checked on her comfort each hour. Jillian was getting restless for less care and more open space.
To keep occupied, she made plans for Leo and how they could sneak away for some practice with real equipment. The other problem that kept nagging at her was how Lancelot had gotten injured. She hoped she hadn’t missed seeing an animal borough, but it seemed more like the earth sank away than anything else. She had not made it all the way out to the stable on her own but Ann brought back reports from Leo so she knew Lancelot was recuperating at about the same pace she was.
CHAPTER EIGHT