by Park, Elsie
“I see,” Roland said, more than disappointed he wouldn’t find answers today—if they were here in the first place. “Then I’ll let you be, Goodman.”
The custodian nodded and resumed his organizing.
Roland returned to the table where his squire sat talking to her maid. Her book was closed.
“Are you done already?” Roland asked, knowing he hadn’t been gone long enough for her to finish the book.
“She most certainly is,” Gail spoke up, her chin raised in the air. “I saw fit to stop her from viewing those violent and filthy images.”
Roland’s face grew warm. Curse the woman’s meddling! “You saw fit?” he muttered through clenched teeth. “And what, pray tell, was so violent and filthy about them?”
She tipped her head forward, looking at Roland through eyes that said as if you don’t know.
Roland reached across the table and grabbed the book. He thumbed through it. “I see nothing but images of war.”
“Exactly!” Gail said, slapping her palm down on the tabletop. “Drawings of men killing other men. Swords piercing bodies and cutting off heads. Houses being burned. Women being assailed.” She hissed the last word, audibly spitting it in his face. Her chin lifted several notches, her harsh glare seeming to blame him personally for the brutalities of war.
“These are true accounts of war, Lady Pritchard. What did you expect? A fairytale with a happy ending? Knowing exactly what happens in battle is essential to a squire’s education. I will not apologize for enlightening her as I see fit.” He looked at Audri, whose nose was wrinkled in disgust, then to Gail again, whose eyes remained narrowed. The handmaid opened her mouth, ready for another repartee, so Roland said, “Need I remind you that she is my squire, and that I say what she will or will not read?” The volume of his tone had risen a notch with each breath. Gail’s lips pursed.
He turned to his squire, taking a deep breath to calm his irritation. “You will continue to study those for the rest of the day.” He indicated the pile of books on the table. “And you will learn to listen to me and not your maid, or there will be repercussions.”
Both ladies harrumphed at the same time, but Gail returned to her embroidery and Audri opened the “violent” book again.
Roland would have to do something about the maid. He couldn’t blame her for trying to fulfill her duty as Audrina’s companion and protector, despite the unusual circumstances. However, they had all been placed in this awkward situation, and he’d been given ultimate authority. He knew it wasn’t entirely proper to be alone with Audrina, even as his squire. He should have Gail accompany them for propriety’s sake. But how could he keep the mouthy woman reined in?
He needed help.
But who’d be willing to aid him? He wasn’t popular with the knights. They were more jealous than anything. But who was trustworthy enough to behave around Gail and Audrina? No one came to mind—except perhaps Sir Heath Parkett.
Though Heath spent time with the other knights, Roland had observed his seeming discomfort with them. On the occasions when he’d conversed with Heath, Roland had noticed that he didn’t take part in the heavy drinking or crude behavior of his comrades, nor had Heath laughed at him as the others had. This scrutiny gave Roland hope that he’d possibly unearthed a friend. And if ever Roland needed a good friend, it was now.
He’d propose a deal with the man: when Heath wasn’t occupied with his usual duties, Roland would give Heath a third of his own pay for his assistance with Gail.
“I’ll request some victuals and have them brought over. Remain here while I’m out. I have business elsewhere at the moment.” As he stepped through the open library door, he turned and looked at the pair of women. “And I’ll know if you leave, so don’t even think about doing so.”
“Too late, already thought about it,” Audrina said without looking up from the book in front of her. He saw Gail smile into her embroidery.
“Humph.” Roland left the library. He asked the first servant he passed to have food brought to Lady Gibbons and her maid in the library but with no sweet treats. He then went in search of Sir Heath.
He stepped into the training tent and spied his target sitting astride a stool in the corner, inspecting a sharpened sword. Good, he’s far away from listening ears.
Roland strode over and came to stand before him. Roland dipped his head in respect to the fellow knight. “Sir Heath,” he greeted.
Heath looked up from his stool and nodded back with mutual civility.
Roland felt slight trepidation, not sure how Heath would take his offer. Would he agree to his requisites or scoff at the idea and refuse? He took a deep breath. “I have a deal for you, something that will benefit us both.”
Audri was still quite sore on the Sabbath, hobbling her way into the chapel for spiritual sustenance with Gail at her heels. Her mother was already there with her face hidden under a translucent veil. In a way, Audri was grateful for her new position as squire, as the time-consuming burden somewhat took her mind off the dismal happenings in Guildon and the atrocities her mother experienced. That wasn’t to say she forgot about her. She had visited Honora to check on her recovery and was relieved to hear that Festus had left her alone since that night, but neither of them knew how much longer that might last. The uncertainty was a constant cloud hanging over them.
Honora turned to Audri and held her hand out. Audri approached and took it, feeling her mother’s soft skin beneath her own blistered palms. Gail had rubbed salve on her hands that morning, but even with all her training pains, she was sure her poor mother felt worse.
“How are you?” Audri asked in a hushed tone. Though Honora’s plight was deemed taboo, gossip kept the castle inhabitants informed of Festus’s ill-treatment of her. This didn’t daunt the earl, however. He simply used it as fodder to stoke continued fear and obedience from his subjects.
Honora’s head dipped and Audri felt her mother’s body shake as she began to sob quietly. Audri gathered her mother’s trembling form into her arms, pulling her into a gentle embrace, careful not to put pressure on her sensitive wounds and bruises. She kissed the side of her mother’s covered head. Festus was lucky he didn’t attend the Sabbath service because Audri would have maimed him right there in the sacred place.
Honora sniffed and brought a handkerchief up under her veil to wipe her nose. “I’ll be all right, sweetheart.” Honora’s voice was controlled but held a hint of insecurity. She gave Audri a reassuring pat on the arm, but Audri wasn’t pacified. Her mother would never be all right as long as she remained with Festus.
The gray-haired priest, Father Bromel, entered the nave and looked around at the sparse numbers with disappointment but not surprise. Festus never attended church, nor did Doyle and his corrupt knights. Still, the humble priest proceeded to deliver a beautiful sermon for the women, children, and servants. His words on faith, perseverance, and hope were something both Audri and her mother needed to hear to uplift them. He also touched upon the Ten Commandments and the divine penalties held for those who broke them.
Before ending, he paused, his eyes resting on Lady Honora Craven. As if acting on a sudden thought, he cited a passage from Proverbs: “‘He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding: but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly.’ May it be remembered that a man of great wrath shall surely suffer punishment.” He looked around at the others gathered there. “Simple messages of self-control, yet therein lies great power if observed, or damnation if they are not. May the hearts of the downtrodden be lifted, filled with hope of a brighter day to come when the justice of God will be served.”
The sermon ended on that note. Audri wished Festus had been present to hear Father Bromel’s remarks, but she knew he wouldn’t have heeded them anyway. Her mother gave Audri another pat on the arm before turning with her own handmaidens to exit the chapel. Audri watched her departure with sad eyes.
She faced Gail. “You go on ahead. Order our meal. I’ll be there shortly. I wonder if Father Bromel has any recruits for us.”
Gail nodded and left.
Audri turned and approached the priest who had moved to a discreet section of the nave.
“Good day, Lady Gibbons,” he greeted.
“Good day, Father,” Audri returned. “Have you any new students for our growing institution?” she whispered.
He opened his mouth to speak but promptly closed it, his eyes seeing something over her shoulder.
She turned her head. Sir Roland approached. He looked sharp in a clean brown tunic and black chausses. Had he attended the sermon or entered after it was over? If the former, then maybe he wasn’t as disreputable as she thought.
Regardless of when he’d arrived, his being there interrupted her covert meeting.
She turned back to the priest. “Another time,” she whispered, taking his hand and bending her forehead over it.
He nodded and disappeared through the side door leading to his private quarters.
Audri turned to Roland, smelling cloves wafting around him when he stopped before her. She noted that the three days of stubble covering his lower face didn’t hide his chiseled features in the least. In fact, it strangely enhanced them.
“You clean up nicely, Lady Squire,” he commented, looking at her surcoat.
Her faced flushed. How typical of the knight to deliver such an offhanded compliment—praising her attire yet still managing to insult her in the same breath. Feminine appreciation warred with indignation.
However, it was the Sabbath. She didn’t have to tolerate him on the Sabbath, did she? It was her day of rest. She chose to ignore him by brushing past and heading toward the exit without so much as another glance in his direction.
“The priest’s words regarding the Ten Commandments,” she heard his voice over her shoulder as he followed, “particularly the part about honoring thy father and mother. It touched me deeply.” She stopped just before the exit and turned to him, pleasantly surprised that he had indeed attended the service but unsure of what he meant by the comment. He leaned in close to her ear. The intoxication of his warm breath fanning her lobe sent her insides fluttering, nearly causing her to sway into him. “A special kind of hell is reserved for those who don’t honor their parent’s wish to be a respectful little squire to her knight, and a living hell is just what you’ll receive by way of punitive drills if you don’t show me more respect.”
His words broke her from her trance and she stepped away, throwing him a nasty glare.
“Number one, Sir Roland, Festus is not my parent, and he deserves no honor from me even if he were. Number two, my dear mother, whom I do honor, had nothing to do with this absurd arrangement. And three, I’m already experiencing hell at your hands, so the threat of more doesn’t concern me.”
Roland lifted an eyebrow as a slow smile crept upward. “Well now, that’s a challenge if I ever heard one.”
She suddenly regretted her words as waves of unease rippled through her body.
“I hope you’ve had sufficient time to recuperate, for you’ll need every ounce of strength to survive what I have in store this week.”
She didn’t dare say anything else on penalty of the consequences, especially losing her village privileges.
“Be ready in your squire’s garb tomorrow morning,” he said, reminding her of the subordinate position she now held. He turned and walked away.
She watched his muscular figure stroll through the exit.
Audri’s mouth pursed, not sure what to think of Sir Roland. A mixture of animosity and attraction warred inside her every time she saw him, and she didn’t like what the latter suggested. She wanted to hate the man but found it hard when he was near, even in the midst of his harsh reprimands.
There was something different about Sir Roland that set him apart from the other knights, and it threatened to overturn her plans to resist him. This might be her most difficult act of defiance ever.
Early the next morning, just as the sun crested the hills, Roland arose, dressed, and then approached the door across the hall from his own. He’d withheld having breakfast, planning to take it a little later for three reasons. One: to show the lady that she didn’t need to eat first thing in the morning, that the body could survive without sustenance for a few hours beyond. Two: to utilize the knights’ tent before the knights occupied it. And three: because he was eager to introduce his “secret weapon” to the insolent lady-in-waiting.
The woman in question answered his knock at the door.
“I don’t care what you do to me, Sir Roland,” Gail immediately said. “I won’t be separated from my lady. She was in my charge before she was in yours, and I will not be scared off. ‘Tis my duty to stay with her, and I intend to keep it.”
Roland stepped into the room, and Gail was forced to step back as he came to stand in the open doorway. “I knew you’d say something to that effect,” Roland sneered and leaned his head back into the corridor. “Sir Heath,” he called into the hallway before moving farther into the room.
A second later, his comrade stepped into the doorway, enveloping the opening with his six-foot four-inch body.
Gail gasped at the hulk who stood a full foot taller than her, causing Audri to jump up from her dressing table and rush to her handmaid’s side. “What’s the meaning of this?” Audrina demanded.
Roland spoke to Audrina but retained steady eyes on Gail. “I mean to give Sir Heath charge over your maid to ensure she doesn’t interfere with your training. He’ll keep her under control—physically, if the situation demands it.”
Audrina was at a loss for words, staring at the man filling the entry with his broad shoulders.
Roland grinned with smug satisfaction at the women’s horrified expressions. Heath, in his mid-thirties, had a dominant bearing emphasized by his dark, short-cropped hair and closely trimmed beard. Though he was a bit daunting in appearance with his towering form, those with more acute observation would notice that his bright blue eyes betrayed a softer side, which Roland had seen emerge in the presence of ladies but more especially with the children living in the castle. Since coming to Guildon, Roland had occasionally observed Heath interacting with the little urchins when most of the knights weren’t around. Heath would suddenly begin whistling a tune of some sort and clap his hands, creating an audible beat. This brought smiles to children’s faces as they laughed and clapped along with his spontaneous songs.
Gail’s mouth opened in disbelief. “Your authority does not include me,” she stated in a semi-panicked tone. She looked at Audrina with a worried expression, her hand reaching up to her face. She absently fingered the edge of a scar peeking out from under her wimple.
“Not so,” Roland calmly reasoned, wondering why this woman acted so adamantly against men. It seemed to run deeper than just protecting her lady from the opposite sex. Her attitude seemed to stem from a deeper, more personal experience. He viewed the scar on her face again, wondering if a dishonorable man had given it to her. Though this thought created slightly softer emotions toward the woman, he still had to make sure she didn’t interfere with his tactics. “Festus gave me leave to do whatever was necessary for Lady Gibbons’s training, and I feel it’s necessary to hold you in check. You will be content with this new arrangement, or I’ll have Festus deal with you personally.” This was actually a lie. He didn’t want Festus involved at all. The man would probably dismiss Gail from her post and throw her out of Guildon. Roland didn’t want to go that far. He just didn’t want her interfering with Audrina’s regimen. His bluff was only to scare her into complying.
Gail’s eyes darted from Audrina, who looked just as shocked, to Roland, who stood there smirking, then to the silent hulk barring the exit, whose expression remained impervious.
“I don’t need your guard dog,” sh
e said through clenched teeth. “I’ll keep my tongue; you have my word.”
Roland laughed, bringing Gail’s eyes back round to him. “I’m sorry, but you’ve already proven that to be an impossibility. No, this is the only way I can continue without fear of your meddling.”
Gail again eyed the knight in the doorway, opened her mouth to say something but then shut it. She turned back to Roland. “So be it. I’ll abide your sentinel, but only for my lady’s sake and certainly not for yours.”
“Fair enough,” Roland declared. “With that settled, let’s begin our day.”
“Insufferable man,” Gail hissed as she and Audrina exited the chamber ahead of the knights. Roland caught part of a comment from Gail about “Festus’s henchmen,” but he chose to ignore it, feeling lucky that he came out of this encounter with as little scathing as he did. Roland took a deep breath and let it out. He hoped this week’s training would also go as smoothly, but, eyeing his chubby squire, he doubted it. He planned abundant physical labor for her the first month, as she needed to shed weight before moving on to other things.
He shook his head at the ridiculous situation he was in. He’d never in all his life held a position like this. His squire would not be the only one challenged by their new arrangement.
Only a few squires were present in the training tent, sharpening and inspecting weapons. They looked up as the quartet entered but soon returned to their duties. “Good, no knights,” Roland said. “I prefer as few onlookers to this spectacle as possible.”
“So now I’m a spectacle,” Audrina stated. He could hear the sadness in her voice, though she tried to mask it with an annoyed expression.