Knights of Honor Books 1-10: A Medieval Romance Series Bundle

by Alexa Aston

  The king’s words pained Geoffrey. “I beg you, Sire. Please do not issue that command. I would be miserable at court, in the midst of politicians and liars. I doubt I could serve your best interests because I would be mired in unhappiness.”

  Geoffrey thought carefully before continuing. “Look around. You yourself admired Kinwick and my people. Here is my family, all that I’ve ever desired. Merryn thrives here, too.”

  “But she would be the most celebrated beauty at court. Men would fall at her feet.” The king’s brow wrinkled. “I could gift you with other properties and untold wealth.”

  “I intend no disrespect, Sire, but that means little to me. At heart, Merryn and I are simple people who want to avoid the intrigues of court.”

  Geoffrey knew his words displeased the king, but he continued. “I have been through untold horrors, your majesty. I need to be at Kinwick to heal. I beg you to leave us in peace.” He dropped to his knees. “I give you my oath—my word of honor—that I will fight for your name whenever called upon. I will give you taxes. Troops. My humble advice. But I want to remain here. At Kinwick.”

  He watched Edward consider his words. The king tapped a finger along his jaw.

  “How about visits to London every now and then?” Edward countered. “What if I took your twins under my wing? Instead of fostering in some nobleman’s household, they could come to London and learn. Your son could be one of my court pages and your daughter could serve in the queen’s household. I would guarantee them advantageous marriages, as well.”

  Hope beat in Geoffrey’s heart. His precious twins would not have to foster at Winterbourne, the place he most despised. They could serve the royal house of Plantagenet and be under the king’s protection.

  Yet his promise to Hardie weighed heavily upon him.

  “They are promised to the Earl of Winterbourne, Sire. Only he could alter our arrangement.”

  Edward clapped his hands once. “So be it. If it’s agreeable with you and Lady Merryn, I shall speak to Winterbourne.” His smile showed a few missing teeth. “My will is strong, Lord Geoffrey. Mayhap even stronger than yours. I can be quite persuasive with my noble subjects. Rise. At once.”

  Cheers went up in the distance. Symond Benedict rode over to where the king and Geoffrey stood.

  “The boar has been felled, Sire. The hunting party is ready to return to Kinwick.”

  Geoffrey and the king mounted their horses and rode to join the others. As they made their way to the castle, Geoffrey wondered what Hardie’s reaction would be to Edward’s request. Would the young earl defy the king and hold Geoffrey to his word or would Hardie allow the twins to foster at court?

  *

  Merryn dressed with care in a cotehardie of deep scarlet. She fastened her ever-present sapphire brooch next to her heart before winding a belt of knotted silver about her waist. Matching ribbons adorned her hair. One ribbon went into her pocket for later use.

  Today was the final day the royal court would be present at Kinwick. Edward had been in a good mood throughout the visit. He’d glowed with pride at the ballads the troubadour sang about his military victories and laughed till tears spilled down his cheeks at the antics of the jogelour. The king and queen had graced the wedding of Hardwin and Johamma yesterday. The royal ruler had eaten and drunk far into the night at the feast celebrating the couple’s union.

  All that remained was today’s tournament, which would be held in the meadow next to the woods. Merryn had invited all the families from Kinwick and the nobles who accompanied the royal summer progress. The knights of Kinwick would compete alongside those of the king’s guard and a few others. Edward had determined that the joust would be the sole event to occur.

  Merryn left Elia’s chamber and went to where Geoffrey had slept during the royal visit. She’d suggested her husband spend his nights in the small room where he and Diggory reviewed estate business instead of bedding down with a hundred others in the great hall. He had readily agreed, which eased her mind.

  She tapped on the door and entered. Geoffrey had dressed in russet and brown. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, trying to tame it. His hazel eyes grew warm when he caught sight of her.

  Merryn placed her hands on his shoulders. “Will you compete today?”

  “Aye. ’Tis simply a game. Since I’m sorely out of practice, I’ll probably lose in the first round.”

  She ran her hands down his arms and captured his hands in hers. “You are too hard on yourself. I have witnessed you in action since your return.”

  His brows shot up. “I have never seen you in the training yard. If I had, you would have distracted me.” He laughed.

  “I have watched some of the training exercises from the north tower. It is a good vantage point.” She laid her palm against his chest. “You haven’t merely observed, Geoffrey. I have seen you, along with Gilbert, putting the men through their exercises. You are easy to pick out, due to your height and broad shoulders and your stance with a sword.”

  He shrugged. “Swordplay is one thing. The joust is entirely different.”

  She cupped his cheek. “You are a warrior, my love. It is bred in you. I intend to cheer you on to victory today.” Merryn removed the ribbon from her pocket and tied it around his wrist. “I shall be with you as much as Mystery.”

  Geoffrey gave her a searing kiss as a reward.

  Merryn broke the kiss. “I wish we had time for more than kissing, but I have much to accomplish before the tournament begins. Is your armor ready?”

  “Aye. Ancel and Alys both helped me polish it.” A shadow crossed his face.

  “Is something wrong, my love?”

  He sighed. “Alys gives her love easily. But Ancel? One minute he hangs on my every word and the next he acts disinterested in whatever I say.”

  Merryn wrapped her arms around his waist. “Be patient with him, Geoffrey. He’s only a little boy. I know Ancel loves you, but he has never shared his feelings as openly as his sister.”

  “I hope you are right.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head and offered his arm. “It’s time to attend mass and then prepare for the joust.”

  *

  Merryn found it hard to contain her excitement. Knights arrived at the field in full armor. Ladies in an array of colors gave favors to the men they cheered on. Children ran about, squealing in delight at all the commotion.

  Kinwick had twenty knights, including its lord, entered into the contest. Hugh, Raynor, and Hardwin also competed. The king had every man from his royal guard pursuing the prize. Geoffrey offered the winner a colt that would make a fine warhorse when it reached maturity.

  The only dark cloud was learning that Sir Symond Benedict would take the field and champion the Plantagenet name for Edward. She had caught a few glimpses of the royal guardsman in the great hall but had not spoken to him. For a moment, Merryn wondered how her life might be if Geoffrey hadn’t returned. Instead of celebrating the nuptial mass of Hardwin and Johamma, the king would have attended a different wedding. Merryn would now be wed to Sir Symond.

  She raised a silent prayer to thank God Almighty for bringing her husband back to her.

  Merryn turned to Johamma, who sat on her left. The young woman wore a wide smile as she watched the men in action.

  “I am sorry you had to return to Winterbourne last night after the wedding feast. I would have offered you our solar, but the king and queen have taken up residence there. Every other chamber in the keep was taken.”

  “Do not worry, Lady Merryn. We are most grateful for the lovely wedding and magnificent feast you provided. Everything from venison and mutton to starlings and chickens. And all of those sweets. My teeth fairly ache today when I think of how many I ate.”

  “Not nearly as much as the king did,” Merryn confided.

  Johamma said, “Hardie said your mead is the best he’s ever tasted.” She bit her lip, looking unsure of herself. “He hoped you might share your recipe with me for when we entertain at Winterbourne
.”

  “It’s all in the ginger,” Merryn revealed. “Many people add too much or not enough. I add a half-part of ginger to each gallon. And it’s very important to seal and store the brew for at least six months. Don’t be too eager to sample it.”

  She placed her hand atop Johamma’s. “I will teach you how to make it myself.”

  The younger woman smiled. “You are most generous, my lady.”

  “Do I hear talk of mead?”

  Merryn turned to her right and saw that the king munched upon gundy.

  “Is the candy to your liking, Sire? I make it with black treacle and season it with a bit of cinnamon.”

  “You made this?” He gave her a sly smile. “Mayhap Lord Geoffrey should not be guarding your cook after all. He should be guarding you!” Edward laughed heartily.

  The queen, on her husband’s right, gave her hostess a smile as she touched her husband’s arm. Merryn knew how the queen felt. If Geoffrey was happy, then all seemed right in her world.

  They sat through dozens of matches, with only three men being slightly injured. Merryn explained to Johamma, witnessing her first joust, that the contest replicated a cavalry charge. Each knight rode quickly toward his opponent, hoping his lance would unseat the other man. Merryn was sorry to see both Hugh and Raynor eliminated after several rounds of the competition. She clapped loudly as two knights from Kinwick made it to the final eight men before going down in defeat to Geoffrey and Symond.

  Now only four men remained in the contest. Symond would face Geoffrey, followed by Hardie against Alard, one of Edward’s guard who’d been responsible for both Hugh and Raynor’s losses.

  Merryn moved to the edge of her chair as Geoffrey made ready to her left and Symond to her right. Each time Geoffrey rode, her nerves were raw, yet he had claimed victory each time. She spied Hobard, the royal physician, arriving on the field. He had gone to treat the last injured jouster from two bouts prior.

  Her heart beat fast as each man lowered the helm that protected his head and face. Both gripped a lance in their right hand. They awaited the signal to ride forward.

  It was given and Merryn held her breath as they reached one another. She saw Geoffrey’s lance make contact on this first pass. It rammed hard into Symond’s chest and sent him soaring into the air. Though sorry for Symond, she boldly cheered for her husband, whistling louder than any man.

  “Lady Merryn, you seem quite excited that your husband is victorious over my champion,” Edward wryly noted. “Where did you learn to use your fingers to whistle in such an unladylike manner?”

  She felt the blush stain her cheeks. “My brother, Sire. Hugh taught me to do so when I was a young girl. For weeks, I drove my parents near the brink of madness.”

  The king patted her hand. “You need to teach me this amusing skill.”

  “I am sorry your champion was unseated,” she said, demurely folding her hands in her lap.

  His eyes twinkled. “Are you truly, my lady?”

  Merryn grinned unabashedly. “Not in the least bit, Sire,” she confided. She waved at Geoffrey, who yanked off his helm and returned the wave. She watched Symond come to his feet and remove himself from the field. It angered her when Geoffrey went to the knight and offered him a hand. Symond shrugged it off and strode away.

  That one gesture told Merryn everything she needed to know about Symond Benedict’s character. She sat back in her chair to await the next match, doubly glad that the king’s man had lost to her husband.

  Lord Hardwin easily unseated Sir Alard on the third pass. Johamma stood and merrily waved a handkerchief at Hardie. He rode up and snatched it from her fingers. Hardwin’s laugh could be heard as his horse galloped away.

  “I had no idea Hardie was such a good rider, much less so talented at the joust,” Johamma said.

  “You will learn a great deal about your new husband,” Merryn guaranteed. “And you will have a lifetime in which to discover it.”

  After a few minutes of rest, Geoffrey and Hardwin moved to opposite ends of the field to ready themselves for the final contest. Merryn said a quick prayer, hoping both men would remain safe. Johamma clutched her hand tightly as the men spurred their horses on at breakneck speed.

  Geoffrey thrust his lance forward so fast that it seemed like a blur to Merryn. Despite the noise from the horses’ hooves, she heard the lance make contact against Hardwin’s armor.

  The Earl of Winterbourne flew out of the saddle and hit the ground with a loud thud. His horse galloped away. Johamma screamed and rose from her seat, rushing to her husband. Merryn followed closely on her heels. Geoffrey pulled on Mystery’s reins and circled back around.

  Johamma flung her body atop Hardwin’s, sobbing loudly as he remained still, as if in death. Geoffrey leapt from his horse and pulled her aside so the court physician could get closer to examine him. The doctor removed the helm. The nobleman’s eyes remained closed.

  “Help me get this mail off him,” the physician ordered. Geoffrey handed Johamma off to Merryn. She drew her arms about the young woman. Several knights came and aided Geoffrey in removing the chain mail from the unconscious earl. When they did, Merryn saw the pool of blood darkening Hardwin’s cotehardie.

  Geoffrey stumbled away from the group. Merryn released Johamma and ran after him.

  She reached him as he yanked off his helm and slammed it to the ground.

  “God’s teeth!” he roared. “I’ve gone and killed another one of Berold’s sons.”

  Chapter 30

  Merryn sprang into action. She ordered a large banner placed on the ground and instructed several knights to lift Hardwin onto it. The banner would support the injured nobleman while they carried him inside the castle to the solar. The men did her bidding and followed her to the keep. Hobard, the king’s physician, trailed behind them. Merryn tried to block out Johamma’s anguished sobs.

  Tilda appeared as they came to the open gates of the castle.

  “What do you need, my lady?”

  “Bring my bag,” she instructed. “Have hot water boiled and some eggs sent to the solar at once.”

  Tilda darted off, the fastest Merryn had seen the servant move in years.

  Motioning for the soldiers to continue, they arrived within minutes and placed the young earl atop the bed in the solar.

  Hobard brought his own bag of medicines and tools. He dismissed the knights.

  “We must remove his clothing,” the physician said. “I need to see what causes the bleeding.”

  Merryn’s fingers worked quickly. Between the two of them and the dagger the court doctor claimed from his bag, Hardwin’s clothes were tossed aside. Merryn saw Johamma kneel and lift pieces of clothing to her face and weep into them.

  Merryn’s eyes met the physician’s and nodded to him. He rummaged through his bag till he found what was needed.

  The physician moved to Johamma and took her elbow, bringing her to her feet. “My lady,” he said gently, “I know you are distraught. Please drink this.”

  Raising a vial with an amber liquid inside, he said, “This will calm you and help you rest. You need to be at your strongest when your new husband awakens.”

  Johamma nodded dully. She dutifully took the vial and downed its contents, making a face as she swallowed.

  Merryn spied Tilda lurking near the doorway and waved her over. “Take Lady Johamma to Lady Elia’s room. Have Lady Elia stay with her.”

  Tilda took the crying noblewoman in hand, leading her from the room like a lost child.

  Hobard examined Hardwin’s wound. Merryn decided that Geoffrey’s lance had found a gap in the earl’s chain mail. Though the tip of the lance had been blunted, the force from the speed of the horses drove the lance into the nobleman’s chest. The physician’s fingers manipulated the tear and surrounding area.

  “There are a few broken ribs,” he noted. “We should bind his ribcage with linen to keep it intact. Bruising will follow. I must stitch the punctured skin first. He is lucky the lance d
idn’t travel far.”

  “I requested hot water,” Merryn told him. “It should arrive soon.”

  When it did, she asked Tilda to bring strips of clean linen. Both Merryn and the doctor rinsed their hands and then bathed the earl’s wound in a mixture of hot water and wine.

  As they did that, Merryn said, “I’m concerned with how hard he hit his head when he fell from his horse since he hasn’t come to yet.”

  Hobard threaded a needle and began sewing up the gap in his patient’s chest.

  “I agree, my lady. Check his head while I repair his skin.”

  Running her fingers lightly along Hardwin’s scalp, she turned his head to one side and then the other. Lifting it from the pillow, she moved her hands along the back of his skull, discovering a lump. She examined it carefully. Relief washed through her when no blood appeared around the bump.

  “He has a huge knot. It’s formed near the top of his head in the rear,” she informed the doctor. “I found no wound. You will not have to trepan.”

  “That is good news. I loathe boring into a head wound. Bathe the area in hot water, my lady. I will examine it in a moment.”

  Once the earl’s wound had been stitched, Merryn searched her own bag of herbs and medicines for an ointment. She located the jar and set it aside. Cracking open two eggs, she separated the yolks from the whites using a pewter cup before rubbing the egg whites over the stiches as a soothing balm.

  She softly chanted, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Mary. The wound was red, the cut deep, the flesh be sore, but there will be no more blood or pain till the Blessed Virgin bears a child again.”

  After the egg whites dried, she opened the jar and rubbed the salve over and around the wound.

  “So you are a healer. You make your own balms?”

  “Aye. I pick and grind my own herbs and turn them into pastes, salves, and draughts. I grew up at Wellbury, the estate to the south of Kinwick. Our healer, Sephare, taught me all she knew. I have continued my learning here at Kinwick.”