by Park, Elsie
Sir Roland’s tall frame filled the doorway, and his appearance nearly took Audri’s breath away. He was even more handsome in the light of day than in the dim confines of Festus’s conference chamber. The auburn locks, full and wavy, were accented by his forest-green tunic, which was cinched at his trim waist by a black leather belt. Black chausses and tall black boots reaching to his calves completed his arresting advent.
It was his expression of annoyance toward her as he stepped into the room that brought Audri back to reality.
“In the future, you will answer the door the first time I knock. Do you understand?”
Audri’s mouth tightened, forming an angry line. “You really have no right to enter my private chamber anyway!”
Roland raised his eyebrows. “Well, technically, as my squire, you should be sleeping in my chamber to attend to my needs.” Taking offense, both Audri and Gail protested his suggestive comment. He raised his voice a notch to be heard above them. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” he argued. It was common practice for squires to reside in the same quarters as their knights. “Obviously your gender forces separate sleeping quarters, but because of that, I must claim the right to enter your chamber and summon you as needed.” When they began to protest anew, he put his hands up to shoulder level, palms forward, and raised the volume of his voice again. “Have no fear of me taking advantage of you, Lady Audrina. You are my squire, nothing more, so I carry no interest in you in that way. And, might I add, not only do I take my knight’s vows of honor seriously, but I have more important matters at hand.”
Audri was a little taken aback at his words and was a bit disappointed, if truth be told, that he wasn’t tempted by her in any way. Another blow to her self-esteem, but then, that’s what she’d been working for all these years wasn’t it—to repel men from her? Well, it was working. And so be it. She wasn’t out to attract this hired henchman.
Raising her chin, she said, “Fine. So, what am I to do first as your squire, sir?” She sneered the “sir” with upturned lip.
Roland took three large steps toward her, placing his nose inches from hers. She inhaled in surprise, her eyes enlarging to their maximum size, but she stood her ground.
“First, never insult the title of ‘sir’ again, or you’ll face the consequence of that action.”
Audri’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t retort. She was too distracted by the heady scent of cloves wafting about him to answer coherently. No doubt he placed the dried far-eastern flower buds in his wardrobe.
He accepted her silence as compliance and stepped back. She was surprised at the regret she felt in losing the proximity to him.
She mentally shook her head. Stop it, you fool. Sir Roland is your foe! Don’t lose your head over this disarming mercenary!
Gail moved close to Audrina while Roland clasped his hands behind his back, turned, and slowly walked the length of the room, observing all her belongings. He stopped at the fireplace and turned to look at them.
“A young boy usually starts his training as a page, serving his knight and the household for roughly seven years. At about age fourteen, he graduates to squire. You, of course, have missed all this training that, had you been a boy, would have made you a knight by the age of twenty-one, which I believe you are a few years beyond.”
“One year beyond,” Audri corrected, showing clear offense that he thought her older than she was. “And it’s not my fault I’ve missed all that.”
“No, but it is a hindrance. And so, I will simply tell you what’s required of a squire. Be grateful I’ve chosen to let you skip the page duties and even some of the squire duties which include serving me in every capacity. As we earlier referred to, because you are a woman and no longer a child, you will not wash my clothing, guard me while I sleep at night, nor will you aid me in donning my normal attire. I have decided on these for obvious reasons and for the fact that I can sufficiently do them myself.”
Audri felt relieved for propriety’s sake that she wouldn’t have to dress and undress the man, but she dipped her head, hiding the sudden rush of heat hitting her face at the idea of it. Shoving the thought away, Audri was left feeling uncertain about what lay ahead for her, but with stubborn pride, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Very well, Sir Roland, I do thank you for that, but I think you’ll find I’m not your average female. I’m much stronger than you might guess. Give me whatever you have in mind.”
“Oh, I plan to. And how well you follow my instructions will determine how much freedom you receive.”
“Freedom? What do you mean?”
“Freedom to choose your meal times, what you eat, how long you sleep, where you can venture, what to wear during training, and so forth.”
Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “And my weekly shopping trips? Will you please consider those in my list of freedoms?” She couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice.
“These trips must be something of great value to use the word ‘please’ with me,” he observed, lifting a curious brow.
“They are,” she admitted, wondering if she should have divulged that.
Roland paused a moment and then nodded. “Very well, I will consider them.”
She exhaled, having held her breath waiting for his answer.
“I see no harm in allowing your weekly trips, but you must earn them by my standards. If I don’t think you’ve earned them, you won’t go.”
Audrina shot Gail a sideways glance, which Gail returned before Audrina nodded in hesitant agreement.
“What day of the week do you usually go?”
“The day before the Sabbath.”
“That’s only a day from now, not much time to prove yourself worthy of an outing, so no, you may not go this week.”
“What?” She felt nervous, almost frantic. “You can’t do that. I mean, I need to go. I must. And you shouldn’t assume I won’t earn it before I’ve had a chance to try. Don’t be so quick to underestimate my resolve, Sir Roland. As long as you hold true to your word, I’ll hold to mine.” She swallowed. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me, I promise.” It was uncharacteristic of her to cave in so readily, but this situation was so abnormal.
Roland considered her face. “Hmm, I certainly see determination in those doe eyes of yours. Gone are the downturned brows of rebellion. It’s a good start, but you may find that fortitude often stammers in the heat of battle, and we’ve yet to begin any physical training. We’ll see what you’re truly made of when I put a sword in your hand and drill you for hours on end. You may find your resolve waning.” With that, he ordered the ladies to follow him. “First things first,” he said, eyeing her plump figure. “You need to shed some weight. Speed and dexterity will be hindered if you don’t.”
After a quick breakfast of ham, bread, and cheese, and plenty of snickers from the other knights, Roland took Audrina, her maid at their heels, into the courtyard. The rain was light but cold. He eyed the large tent set up for the knights to hone their skills out of the elements. Knights entered and exited in a steady flow. He knew taking her in there would only fuel the flame of the knights’ jollity at his and Audrina’s expense.
Avoiding the tent, however, left the problem of finding other places to train his squire. He searched the courtyard and his eyes soon rested on a wagonload of hay just delivered to the stables. Perfect. He walked toward the wagon and promptly took up a pitchfork lying in the back of it. The merchant and his young son were surprised at the gesture but didn’t dare question a knight.
“No worries, Goodman. My squire and I will unload this hay into the stalls. You and your boy may take respite.”
Though showing confusion over the unusual offer of aid, the merchant smiled and nodded, leading his son from the wagon and under the cover of an awning nearby.
“How dare you suggest a noble lady to do the work of serfs!” her maid hissed as she and Audrina came to
stand beside him.
Roland would have none of her intrusions. “You can no longer think of your lady as a mere noblewoman but as a squire who must learn humility!” The volume of his voice rose a bit. He didn’t need this woman questioning his tactics. “Lady Audrina was placed under my charge by Lord Craven himself, and your presence here is merely tolerated because I have allowed it. But I may have you excused from attending if I deem your presence a hindrance or an annoyance. Is that clear?” He leveled a warning glare at the maid, but she dared to open her mouth again.
“Clear? What am I, a child to be spoken to in such a demeaning manner?”
“Gail,” he heard Audrina caution, but he’d had enough of the woman.
“I warned you! Cease your words and be gone!” he ordered. In truth, he hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but her continual interruptions had infuriated him. He wasn’t in the habit of yelling at women and didn’t intend to make it one, but the stress of his new position, which interfered with his desire to do other things, had made him beyond irritable.
The maid’s muted open mouth confirmed her shock as she looked back and forth between Audrina and Roland. She seemed to be waiting for someone to tell her that he was only jesting and hadn’t really meant to send her off. Well, she’d be disappointed. Roland glanced at Audrina. His squire stared at her maid with a creased brow that admitted an emotional war between the influence she’d previously claimed and the authority she was now compelled to accept. Her indecision forced her silence on the matter.
Turning his eyes back to the maid, Roland reined in his temper, lowered his voice, but spoke to her through gritted teeth. “You may join us on the morrow if you can manage to hold your tongue.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Audrina slowly nod to her maid, dismissing her. The maid looked at her lady with regretful eyes before turning on her heel and tramping back toward the great hall.
Roland closed his eyes and breathed a sigh. He felt a little guilty over his ill-treatment of her, but he couldn’t have her meddling. It stalled everything.
He turned his attention to Audrina. “Now that that’s over with, let’s start training, shall we?”
Audrina didn’t answer, but lifted her stubborn chin a notch. Roland was fast learning it to be a signature reaction.
Ignoring it, Roland handed her the pitchfork.
She glared at him—another frequent reaction—and refused to take it.
“Unless you prefer the company of the raucous knights in the tent—or perhaps your shopping trips never returned to you—then I suggest you take this in hand.”
Audrina’s mouth tightened and her eyes squinted even smaller, but she took the pitchfork, nearly wrenching it from his grasp.
Roland turned and effortlessly hopped up into the wagon, taking up a second pitchfork from the pile.
Audrina’s eyes lost their murderous gaze. “I . . . I thought you meant for me to do it alone.”
“I will rarely ask anything of you that I am not willing to do myself. This is not only your training but mine as well. Knights must stay fit, and what better way than serving another at the same time?” He nodded to the pair of merchants gratefully sitting on stools underneath the stable cover. “So unless you mean to stand shivering in the rain all morning . . .”
Audrina took a deep breath and stepped to the back of the wagon. After lifting the pitchfork and setting it into the back of the cart, she placed her hands on the bed that stood three feet above the ground. The wagon was built tall to enable it to make its way through deeply rutted roads and thick mud without getting stuck. She braced herself and then hopped upward. Her body lurched forward, her stomach landing on the back of the bed and making the entire wagon shudder. Roland spread his legs farther apart to keep his balance. Wiggling her way inch by inch onto the hay-covered apparatus, the wagon creaked and shook under her hefty struggle. Her breathing became more labored with each strain.
At one point, she looked up from her sprawled state, her eyes appealing for a little help from Roland, but Roland wanted her to do it herself, or she’d never get stronger. She rolled her eyes at his silence and continued her tussle with the wagon.
Roland inwardly shook his head, his lips tightening in annoyance. I’m wasting valuable time on this woman when I could be searching for my heritage.
Roland thought she’d beg to quit after she got up—if she ever did—but she surprised him. After placing her knees onto the wagon’s end and arduously drawing herself up to her feet, she proudly stood before him with a silent expression, as if to say, I might be slow, but I’ll finish whatever task you set before me.
Roland nodded, approving her valiant, albeit sluggish, efforts. “Now then, let’s get this done.”
Roland thrust the forked tool into the hay and lifted a large amount up. Swinging it to the back of the wagon where a pushcart waited at ground level to be filled, he dumped the hay into the barrow and then turned for another scoop. Audrina followed suit, shoving the pitchfork into the hay and drawing it up with a pile on top.
“This isn’t so hard,” she said after dumping her first fill.
Roland smirked. “You say that now but just wait. There’s more here than you realize, and your legs and back will know it before we’re done.”
Audrina harrumphed and continued forking the hay.
When the barrow was full, Roland jumped down from the wagon and motioned for Audrina to follow. She sat on the edge of the wagon, her legs dangling off the end, and gauged the distance between her feet and the ground. With her hands placed on the wagon bed on each side of her body, she pushed herself off the end with a mighty heave. Though her feet only traveled a total of twenty-four inches before they connected with the cobblestones, the dull sound upon impact—and subsequent shuddering of the wagon she’d just lurched from—made it seem like more. Her heavy breathing assured Roland her body was working harder than it was used to. Good. He was fulfilling his assignment.
He instructed her to take the pushcart into the stables. This she did, lifting the back end by its two handles and wheeling it into the equine housing. Roland walked behind as she rolled it up to the stable master. The man lifted an eyebrow at seeing Lady Audrina in a damp cloak, men’s chausses, and doing the work of peasants, but he held his tongue and pointed to the corner of the stable where the new hay was to be deposited. Audrina dumped the hay in the corner before returning outside with the barrow.
After another struggle climbing into the wagon, Audrina, alongside Roland, repeated the same procedure of forking hay into the pushcart and wheeling it into the stable. This they did many times for the next hour until all the hay was gone and both Roland and Audrina were sweating from the exertion, though it was hard to tell with rain soaking them from head to foot.
After returning from the horse stall for the last time, Audrina was breathing so hard she couldn’t utter a word. Roland placed the pitchforks in the back of the wagon and sauntered over to the waiting merchants. They stood up and bowed to Roland.
“Thank you for the work, Master Merchants,” Roland said.
“No, thank you, Sir Knight, for allowing us a much-needed rest,” the elder of the two replied.
Roland nodded and then returned to Audrina, who was still catching her breath and looking as if she didn’t mind the cold rain anymore. She arched her body backwards, no doubt to stretch the ache, and righted herself before massaging her right arm with her opposite hand.
“Hard work, isn’t it?”
Audrina only breathed and rubbed her muscles in response.
“And to think these good peasants do it several times a day, every day. Part of having compassion as a knight means stepping into other’s shoes to really experience what they do.”
Audrina eyed the empty wagon leaving the courtyard. “And you don’t think I already hold compassion for the people?”
“That’s not what I
suggested, but since you brought it up, do you?”
She turned to him with an open mouth and wide eyes, a look that said how dare you think I wouldn’t.
“On to the next task,” Roland announced.
“And what is the next task?” Audrina queried.
Roland didn’t know, actually. “I’ll tell you before long,” he said, buying time as he found something else to do, “but you can be sure it will be something worthy enough to shape your form and character alike.”
Audrina sneered at him.
He searched the yard for another job and noticed Audrina’s lady-in-waiting lingering at a safe distance but keeping a watchful eye on them. Even from here Roland perceived fiery darts shooting from her eyes at his treatment of Audrina. Her looks didn’t bother him as long as he didn’t have to hear her complaints.
Before long, Roland spied their next chore.
There were four female servants across the courtyard, each holding two buckets and approaching the well.
“Come with me,” Roland said to his squire. She followed him with some reluctance.
The knight came to stand before the servants. “Good morning to you.” He smiled boldly and bowed, gaining blushes and shy grins from the women. Audri’s eyes narrowed at Sir Roland’s changed demeanor from stern knight to almost . . . flirtatious. “Might I relieve you of your labors for a spell so that my squire may draw your water?”
The women glanced in Audrina’s direction for the first time and, as was appropriate for Audrina’s noble station, quickly averted their subservient gazes from her face to her attire. They seemed surprised to see her dressed as a man, but they respectfully bowed to her and then placed their buckets on the ground before backing under a porch near the well to watch. Audri lifted an eyebrow at Roland’s respectful treatment of the servants, however. Clearly this knight was different from Festus’s sentries. Had she misjudged him? Maybe. Maybe not. Even uncivilized men used coy words if they wanted easy compliance from someone, especially women. Maybe Sir Roland’s behavior with them was just a front.