Perils of Wrath

by Park, Elsie

  He softened his tone. “Well, you’re certainly not a normal squire, are you?”

  Her lips tightened into a firm line, and she looked aside, saying nothing.

  “When does Lady Gibbons go to breakfast?” Gail queried. “Surely you don’t expect her to do anything arduous on an empty stomach.”

  “I haven’t eaten either, Lady Pritchard. And I don’t plan on making her do anything physical this morn.” He could see the relief in the ladies’ faces. “We’ll be doing something we should have done from the beginning.”

  Roland walked to a small wooden table where several stools were placed and motioned for Audrina to have a seat. After she sat down, Roland sat on a stool opposite her on the other side of the table. Gail remained standing, as did Heath.

  “Though I’ve talked about your duties in brief, I will now explain some things in more detail, so you may sit back and listen. The word squire comes from the French esquire, meaning shield bearer, but to us in England, it mostly means apprentice knight. A squire must learn the knight’s code of chivalry—our moral system. It states that all knights should protect others who cannot protect themselves, especially widows, children, and elders. We vow to be loyal, generous, and to be of noble bearing at all times. Knights are required to tell the truth at all times,” Roland inwardly felt a surge of chagrin for being here under false pretenses, but then, he never claimed to be perfect, “and to respect the honor of women.”

  He heard a harrumph-snort from Gail.

  Roland briefly closed his eyes at the interruption and then looked at her. “Do you wish to add something?”

  Gail sneered, “Simply that we don’t see any Guildon knights practicing those codes of chivalry.”

  Roland had realized as much from his first week at the castle. “How other knights live up to the code isn’t within my control, but one knight’s bad example—”

  “Or fifty of them,” Gail muttered.

  “—doesn’t change the integrity of the code, nor the fact that many knights outside of Guildon do take it seriously.” Can’t she just sit and listen without making a comment about everything I say? They’d barely begun the day, and already he was tired of her.

  To his relief, his arbiter, Sir Heath, stepped up to Gail, placing his large frame just behind her. She turned her head, her face level with his broad chest and her mouth opened slightly. “There are some in Guildon who try to live the code, milady.” Whether it was his gentle tone that shut Gail up or the fact that such an imposing warrior stood so close to her, Roland didn’t know, but Gail turned back around and said nothing more.

  Roland nodded, satisfied that Heath’s presence prompted compliance from Gail. “Continuing on, we also vow to guard the honor of all fellow knights, but only if they are acting honorably. A dishonorable knight cannot expect to receive any respect in return. Knights should fear God, keep the faith, and maintain God’s teachings. We never turn our back on a foe, and we persevere to the end of any enterprise we embark on. Do you think you can live up to these principles, Squire Gibbons?”

  Audrina had sat listening with an intensity he appreciated. At his question, however, she looked taken aback, no doubt surprised that he was taking her squireship seriously.

  She straightened her back. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

  Roland nodded his approval. “Very good. Then let’s talk about abilities. All knights require strength, skills, and discipline to execute the code of chivalry with efficiency and fight in war, if called upon to do so. Squires need to learn the rules of heraldry, the different symbols of rank and protocol, and how to create and recognize coats of arms. You will learn to ride a horse.”

  “I already know how,” Audrina piped up.

  “Astride or sidesaddle?” Riding sidesaddle will do her no good as a warrior.

  “That’s an inappropriate question, if you ask me,” Gail said.

  Roland was about to snap back that he hadn’t asked her, but Sir Heath’s response deterred it. “Not so, Lady Pritchard,” he said in a calm voice that compelled Gail to turn and look back at him. “His inquiry is a legitimate one in finding out what Lady Gibbons already knows and what Sir Roland yet needs to teach her.”

  The kindness of his tone seemed to shock Gail a second time. She had opened her mouth, no doubt to retort, but she closed it again as she eyed Heath with a dual look of surprise and contemplation. She turned back to the table, her face a slightly pink hue.

  Roland, amazed at her reaction to Sir Heath’s patience, was reminded of a proverb spoken to him by his adoptive mother, Elsbeth Rawley, when he was a young lad: “A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.” Remembering wise words and following them were two different things. Roland wished he could temper his anger more effectively. He’d surely see results if he did, but it was difficult to remember the reasons for avoiding ire in the heat of the moment. He realized that Festus wouldn’t have created such a stubborn stepdaughter in the first place had he heeded this proverb. Was Roland just as foolish? The idea made him cringe.

  “Astride,” Audrina said to Roland.

  “Beg your pardon?” In his musing, he’d completely forgotten what he’d been discussing with her.

  “I know how to ride with one leg on each side of the horse,” Audrina reiterated slowly, as if explaining the concept to a child. He allowed the jab to pass over him, but just barely.

  “And how did you come to practice that?” he asked, lifting an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “I learned to ride that way because it was the opposite of what Festus wanted me to do. I became extremely proficient at it just to irk him.”

  Roland couldn’t help grinning. Her obstinate ways were a frustration to be sure, but they were also proving to be a benefit. He was starting to feel more respect for this woman’s strength and tenacity . . . as long as she used them to further his task. How many other skills did she possess because Festus forbade her to have them?

  “Well, one less thing to instruct you on,” Roland said. “Every task I’ll have you perform, every drill I’ll put you through, no matter how peculiar they seem, are to hone your skills and discipline your strength, speed, dexterity, leadership, and athletics. I’ll train you in climbing, swimming, and bravery. I’ll test your resolve in facing all the extremes in nature such as heat, cold, fatigue, and hunger. All these things a squire must overcome before becoming a knight.”

  “But will Festus actually allow me to be knighted?” Audrina asked, her tone full of doubt. “As much as I abhor this training, I don’t want to go through it without receiving my earned compensation in the end.”

  Roland had already considered this question. Though Festus had stated she wouldn’t really become a knight, Roland didn’t see anything wrong with conferring the title on her. “My highly-informed parents related to me, some years ago, the existence of women in Spain who held the title of knight.”

  “Really?” Audrina’s eyes widened, her mouth perking up.

  Roland nodded. “These dames, as they were called, had bravely fought for the town of Tortosa against a Moor attack and were knighted in 1149 by the count of Barcelona. They were admitted into the Order of the Hatchet, an order specifically created for them. A similar order presently exists in Italy as well.”

  Audrina turned to Gail with a look of anticipation. The handmaid returned the motivating look.

  Seeing her excitement was promising, but he wasn’t one to give false encouragement only to have it end in disappointment. That was cruel. “That being said, however, it must be noted that I know of no woman in England who currently holds the honor.”

  Audrina’s encouraged face fell slightly, and he felt for her. He decided that if Audrina was to be the first woman knighted in England, then he’d be the one to help her attain it. “If you prove yourself worthy of it, I’ll make sure that you are knighted. You have my word.”

 
Audrina nodded, but she looked nervous, probably thinking of all the tests she’d have to pass. Roland had the sudden urge to take her hands in his and assure her that she could do it, that he’d be there to support her. He quickly pushed the strange sentiment aside. His duty was to train, not coddle.

  Chapter 5

  “Bend those knees!” Roland shouted, the rain plastering his hair to his head. Audri’s arms and thighs screamed for relief from the added weight of the three-foot-long, nine-inch-thick log placed across the back of her neck and shoulders. But she pressed on, not wanting to be a quitter. With Roland seeking out different activities that didn’t involve the company of any Guildon knights other than Sir Heath, they were often forced out into the rain. The deluge had chilled her at first, turning her plaited hair into a heavy mop hanging down her back, but, after a time, her exertion overpowered the cold, which soon felt good to her heated body.

  “Down!”

  She squatted down and then up again, the fire in her leg muscles maximizing.

  “Down!”

  She bent her aching knees again.

  True to his word, Roland had participated in every activity with her the past few weeks, giving himself the same workout and showing her that she was a long way from his level. Though she respected his involvement, she wasn’t sure if it was more encouraging or discouraging to compare her obvious lack to his honed skills, but it made her try harder to prove herself.

  She glanced over at Heath as she did another painful squat. The large knight also squatted with a hefty log over his broad shoulders. The addition of Heath to their drills frequently resulted in spontaneous competitions between him and Roland, such as the current contest to see who could do more knee bends under their heavy weight. They were presently tied at fifty-three, though she was only at twenty-five. She wondered at Heath’s frequent attendance—how did he managed to get out of his regular duties to join them so often? She didn’t think Sir Doyle would let any knight get away with shirking his duties to pursue other ventures. However Heath managed it, Audri had to admit that she enjoyed his presence. He was actually quite droll, and he added a ray of sunshine to the rainy days.

  “My . . . poor . . . legs,” Heath said through gritted teeth between distinct grunts, followed by, “Can’t . . . do . . . any . . . more.” At this, he twisted his frame, allowing the log to tip off to the side and lay in the mud. The timber was followed by his body falling in much the same way, landing face up on the squishy earth. “I’m done for,” he said with a grin on his face. “You’ve won this round, Sir Haunches,” he directed at Roland.

  Audri would have laughed had she the strength to do so. She continued to squat with her cylindrical weight.

  She managed a glance at Gail, who was standing under a nearby tree, the thick leaves keeping her relatively dry. Audri noted Gail’s interested eyes and upturned mouth weren’t directed at her but at Sir Heath instead. Audri smiled to herself, knowing Gail had come to welcome his company as well, though Gail felt that she had to act as if she didn’t for propriety’s sake. Heath treated her with tender words and respect, and he never mentioned her obvious scar. He was the opposite of what Gail had experienced at the hands of her deceased husband.

  “Down, squire!” Roland’s voice cut into her wayward thoughts. “You must do more than that to earn your title.”

  She tried glaring at Roland’s face as she bent her knees, but the weight of the log pushing down on her neck and shoulders caused her head to droop. She couldn’t muster the strength to lift her eyes past the level of his boots. Fine. She’d glare at his boots.

  Roland’s soles, like her own, had sunk several inches into the mud under the added weight. The long timber lying atop his muscular back and shoulders was much larger than hers, but he still wasn’t straining as she was, curse the man.

  Audri took a deep breath and squatted again, her legs shaking with fatigue. She didn’t think she could do this much longer. The first time he’d set a log on her she had only done eleven bends before losing the contents of her stomach all over the ground. She had been grateful for the rain that day as it helped wash away the mess. She had also been mortified throwing up in front of Roland and had hoped to be excused for the rest of the day, but Roland had her continue despite the incident and Gail’s protests. At least this time, even after twenty-nine, she didn’t throw up. That meant something, right?

  “Good,” he praised when she pressed out her final of thirty squats. He dropped his own log to the ground, having finished sixty, and then helped lift hers off her back. She could feel the resulting welts and bruises. “You’re doing better, looking stronger. And you didn’t vomit this time. That’s encouraging. Next time we’ll use a bigger log.”

  Just thinking of a heavier weight made her queasy.

  Her muscles were relentlessly brought to their limit. The sword fighting, archery, and lance techniques were all harder than the seasoned knights made them appear. Her sore body didn’t fully recuperate before the training increased in difficulty. As soon as she became semi-proficient at something, Roland amplified the exercise, putting her muscles to the test once again.

  “A quick break and then on to the next,” Roland said after seeing she was no worse for wear.

  On to the next was a phrase she was coming to dread from his fine lips. She’d never experienced anything like Roland’s special brand of training in her entire life. Some days she honestly felt she’d never fully recover from this onslaught of torture.

  She hadn’t expected to feel such pride in being an apprentice knight, but she got a sense of jubilation in being Roland’s squire. She even found herself eager to learn more each day. It was like she finally had a purpose, like she was accomplishing something other than rebelling against Festus. And it felt good. Well, mentally.

  They performed every task imaginable that gained them both exercise and service at the same time. They hauled more water in buckets, moved more stones, built more walls, shoveled manure, pulled hand carts, hiked up and down hills, climbed up and down trees to rescue domestic cats, and pulled weeds for aged villagers. And that was in addition to the weapon training he set before her. The sword drills were enough of a toll on her body, but Roland added swimming in cold water (exceptionally difficult in water-logged clothing), archery, axe throwing, and conditioning with numerous armaments.

  A few days before, after jogging around multiple haystacks, she’d placed her hands at her hips to catch her breath. Something felt different. Her hands squeezed the jiggly rolls at her middle, but she wasn’t able to grip as much skin as usual between her fingers. Her waist was shrinking, and she could feel the beginnings of hardened muscle beneath it. Despite the grueling drills and the physical pain they caused her, Audri smiled inside, feeling proud of her accomplishments.

  Then she sobered.

  Her initial desire to rebel against Roland didn’t feel as strong anymore, and this, more than anything else, confused her. When he’d say, “All right, squire, on to the next,” as they moved from one task to another, she used to roll her eyes and huff before complaining over the difficulty of the chores and her fatigue from the previous drills. But as she got accustomed to his regimen and felt her body strengthen under its toils, she was tempted to say, “Do your worst, Sir Knight. I can take it.” She never said this aloud of course, not wanting him to actually do his worst.

  Her shifted sentiments certainly put a thorn in her plans to be obstinate. Though she admitted the man’s allure was obvious—his handsome face accented by dark-red stubble being hard for any woman to ignore—she also acknowledged a tentative respect for Sir Roland.

  But did she feel this way because her attraction to him muddled her usually logical mind? Or was she drawn to his honorable actions in taking her training seriously? Roland was straightforward and demanding, but he didn’t call her names or degrade her like Festus. Perhaps her feelings had more to do with motivation in earnin
g back her village trips, which had been denied her thus far. Yes, that was it. It must be, or she was in trouble. She needed to remain impervious to Roland’s charms. He was simply a means to an end, nothing more. She bit her bottom lip, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that whispered she wasn’t being completely honest.

  A week later, they sat in the knights’ tent with the other squires before the evening meal. The young boys were spread around the covered area, cleaning and polishing the weapons and armor. Audrina had just finished cleaning a practice sword and placed it on the rack. Sir Heath had other duties and wasn’t with them, but Roland was relieved to see Gail still held her tongue. It seemed Heath’s influence had met its goal, but Roland would still welcome his friend if he chose to drill with them from time to time.

  “I’m giving you the singular task of washing these shields before going to cena,” Roland said to Audrina as he stood up.

  “You mean all of these?” Audrina gaped at the nearly forty dirty shields stacked against the long rack.

  “Yes, all of them. These squires,” he indicated the lads with a sweep of his hand, “are working to finish their own knights’ armaments. Being that you had my help finishing ours, you can help them by washing all the shields.”

  “But that will take hours!” his squire protested.

  “Then you should get started.” Roland walked toward the exit, then stopped and turned. “Tell you what. Lady Pritchard may help this time if that will get it done faster.” He smiled shrewdly, knowing Gail would probably take offense to the menial task and refuse.

  Both Gail and Audrina gawked at him, but his squire eventually grabbed her bucket of water and linen cloth. She stomped over to the first of the forty and set to work washing the mud from it. Audrina’s silent compliance pleased him, but what really surprised him was that Gail followed suit, taking him up on the suggestion to help. No doubt she intended to prove she was willing to aid her lady in whatever circumstance necessary, even if it meant doing lowly squire chores.