Perils of Wrath

by Park, Elsie

  Roland glanced up at the head table and was appalled to see Lord Craven lift his goblet in a silent toast to Roland’s harsh reaction. Festus was satisfied that Roland had been a monster to her, just like Festus would have been. It was what the earl had hired him to do after all. And Sir Doyle held an equally smug look upon his face, clearly pleased.

  Feelings of self-loathing sprang up inside of him, and Roland was grateful Lady Craven wasn’t present to see his treatment of her daughter. He knew his mother would have reproached him for it. A fleeting thought crossed his mind. He wondered if his birth mother would have rebuked him too. He wished he had more time and resources to discover what kind of a woman she was.

  Roland turned his face to Sir Heath, but the larger knight refused to look at him. Roland glanced over at the squires’ table and saw Bryant’s hand placed on Audri’s arm in a consoling manner. She lifted a wooden cup to her lips and took a slow drink with shaky hands. He realized some of her instability might be from his outburst but guessed it had more to do with her lack of solid foods and weakened state. It had taken its toll on her, and dropping the drink had been a result of it. She, not he, had kept to the challenge with true honor.

  Roland saw, perhaps for the first time in his life, how his temper truly affected others. And he was ashamed. Losing trust was easier than gaining it, and he feared he’d lost the tentative faith Audri might have garnered for him these past weeks. What would it take to get it back, if he could at all? He didn’t know, but he promised himself he’d spend the rest of his life trying. And he’d start by honoring his end of the bargain. He’d place himself in Audri’s control first thing in the morning.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, Audri dressed in a tunic and chausses, not sure what to expect from Roland. Audri felt no elation in winning. She thought she’d feel more pride, but she didn’t expect the honor to come about in this way.

  “A brute, just like all the others,” Gail had said last night while helping Audri get ready for bed.

  Audri thought she and Roland had been gaining a respect for each other. She’d tested him on purpose, but the wine incident had pushed him too far, though it had been a true accident. She wasn’t justifying his anger, but she understood it. He didn’t have to call her names, though. She felt pained, upset that Roland had acted like a Guildon knight. She couldn’t shake off the words he’d thrown at her, and in that way. She’d have trouble forgetting them, believing he truly thought of her as an incompetent squire and thus unfit to be knighted. These words were the kind that would have come from Festus and Doyle, but where their barbs never affected her much, Roland’s comments cut her deeply. Despite her best intentions, she had come to like Roland, and it hurt that he thought so little of her. A physical blow would have been better than those harsh words from a man she respected—had respected.

  Audri answered the door when Roland knocked at his usual time to collect her for training. His handsome form was clothed in a smart blue tunic and tan chausses. She bit her bottom lip but refused to look into his face as she admitted him into her chamber. The scent of cloves followed him in. She inhaled and willed the sudden ripples in her belly to cease.

  “I’ve let Sir Heath know we’ll not be needing him today,” Roland announced in a soft tone.

  Audri turned from the open door and glanced at Gail, who looked disappointed.

  “Sit down, Audri,” Roland said to her. When she didn’t move, he added a soft “please.”

  Audri didn’t often hear this gentle tone from Roland, and it moved her to sit at the table. She stared down at her hands folded in her lap. Gail sat in a chair next to her, and Roland claimed a chair opposite Audri. She didn’t look up at him.

  “I must apologize for my outburst last night. My anger is something I’ve struggled with most of my adult life, brought on by I don’t know what, but it’s there just the same. I’m not defending my actions, nor am I condoning my anger in any way. I try to rein in my temper, but I still fall short at times, and I am sorry that it was you who received the brunt of it last night. It was unwarranted and unforgivable.”

  Audri sat there, surprised by his words. She’d been prepared to shun him, but he was already crushing the wall she’d started to rebuild between them. She warred with her differing emotions. Other men wouldn’t have apologized at all. It took humility and courage. He admitted he wasn’t perfect. And neither am I, she told herself. It was only a two-day test, after all. Did she expect him to change years of temper issues in such a short amount of time? It would take longer than that to overcome such a habit, but his genuine confession was a step in the right direction.

  “Audri.” He said her name with such candid tenderness that her head lifted of its own accord. She gazed into his regretful eyes. “Can you forgive my folly and give me another chance to prove I am worthy of being your mentor?”

  Pondering for a time and considering the apology, she felt the respect for him reenter her soul. But she knew it wouldn’t take much to crush it again. His future actions, not his words of regret, would tell her if his true desire was to change.

  She nodded, still not speaking for fear of her muddled emotions coming out in tears.

  Roland stood. “I have lost the challenge, and you, milady, have won it honorably. I hold to my end of the bargain. Your prize is that I am at your disposal today.” He gave her a deep bow and then straightened, awaiting her reaction.

  Even under the sullen situation, she couldn’t help but smile at him and all the possibilities this would bring. Oh, she’d take full advantage of this circumstance for sure, but she would need her physical strength to accomplish it, and she could only get it through sustenance.

  She raised her chin. “If you please, Sir Roland. After two days of so little food, I could sure use some breakfast.”

  Roland smiled. “I figured you’d say that.” He walked to the door and stuck his head out into the hall, giving a nod to someone.

  He stepped aside and several male servants entered the chamber carrying platters filled with ham, cheese, bread, dried fruits, nuts and, yes, even some freshly baked shortbread. They set the platters and eating utensils down on the table and then left.

  Audri was so hungry, she didn’t know where to start.

  “There’s a lot to choose from, but remember, your stomach has been near empty for two days, so eat slowly. I will take my leave of you and allow you to enjoy your breakfast without my presence.” He started to walk back through the door.

  After all he’d put her through, she should have enjoyed being left alone, but before she could stop herself, she said on impulse, “Wait, I’d like it very much if you would stay and share this meal with us.”

  Roland looked at her askance, as if questioning the invitation’s sincerity. Gail stared at her in surprise as well. Audri lifted her brows and nodded to the food. “This really is more food than Gail and I can handle,” she added, hoping this would convince him to stay. She glanced at Gail again, the woman’s eyes having softened toward Roland as she added her own nod of approval.

  Roland’s mouth lifted at the corners, and he stepped over to the table, taking the seat across from Audri again.

  Heeding his advice, she ate slowly and didn’t overeat, and she was surprised that after about twenty minutes, she felt quite satisfied and recovered. She smiled to herself. I made it through a two-day fast and survived. Going through it had been excruciating, but now that she had food in her stomach, it didn’t seem so bad. And the experience was nothing like the time she had tried to outright starve herself. She was glad she hadn’t wavered, that she could now say she’d done it. And now she could wholeheartedly enjoy the buttery shortbread without guilt or secrecy. It was all worth it in the end.

  “So, what does my Lady Squire have in mind for our activities today?” Roland asked, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. She could make out the hardened musc
les in his upper arms as the position stretched his tunic against them. He looked so casual, so different from his usual stern manner. She liked this side of him.

  Audri cleared her throat and stood up. She stepped a few paces away from the table to put some distance between her and his muscles so she could think clearly. “Well,” she said, eyeing him, “I was thinking that since I’m being forced to learn the duties of a knight, it might do you some good to learn firsthand the duties women perform.”

  His hands slowly left the back of his head to rest on his knees. He sat up straight, his expression silently asking if she jested.

  “I won’t go so far as having you wear a wimple, so you may be grateful for that.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, which made her smile.

  “Don’t look so uncertain, Sir Roland. The tasks I’ll introduce you to are what the women in Guildon are assigned to do, but in other places, some of the same duties are done by manservants. And as you have done everything with me during my training, I too will do everything with you.” She paused, and Roland slowly nodded. Looking down at her attire, Audri said, “Though I have gotten used to the tunic and chausses—and find them quite comfortable, in fact—I’ll be changing into a kirtle and surcoat before we begin our ventures.” Roland nodded but didn’t move. “So, on that note, you may remove yourself for twenty minutes while I change, and then you may follow us down to the weavers.”

  “The weavers?” Roland mumbled with uncertainty as he stood up. But he acquiesced with, “As you will, milady.” He bowed his compliance and took his leave, closing the door behind him to wait in the corridor.

  Gail helped Audri change into a white kirtle and wine-red surcoat with gold trim.

  “Looks like we’ll have to take this in a bit,” Gail observed as she pulled the garments over Audri’s head and smoothed them down over her body.

  Audri looked down at the clothing draped over her frame. They certainly hung looser than a month before. She discovered a proud delight in her changing body, in the new feelings of strength and vigor flowing through it . . . and it was all due to Sir Roland. Does Roland notice these changes in me, too? She couldn’t help but wonder.

  Gail plaited Audri’s hair in a long braid down her back, interweaving a red ribbon into it that matched her surcoat.

  Audri opened the door and spotted Sir Roland leaning his shoulder against the stone wall, his arms folded across his chest. He straightened and stood at attention, causing her to grin again. She and Gail swept past him and made their way down the corridor. “This way, Sir Roland,” Audri bade into the air ahead of her.

  Roland stepped away from the wall and followed them.

  Audri led the way down to the servants’ quarters of the castle, where many rooms were set aside for the making of cloth, dyeing it, and decorating the material and clothing with embroidery and needlepoint.

  The weavers looked up in surprise at the arrival of Lady Gibbons and her knight.

  “Ladies, at ease. We are here to help, not inspect,” Audri announced.

  The women eyed Roland with confusion, doubtlessly wondering what a man was doing in their domain, but they didn’t ask questions. Gail moved off to sit by and chat with an acquaintance.

  “Good morning, Gammer Ethel,” Audri said to the oldest, most experienced woman in the room, and the only person who hadn’t turned to look at them upon their entrance. “I’ve brought a pupil today.”

  “Oh?” The hunched, gray-haired woman turned from her loom to view the man standing next to Audri. Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  Roland grinned at her astonishment. “Sir Roland, at your service, my good woman.” He bowed to her.

  Ethel’s wizened face grew more creased as she beamed at him. “Finally, a noble knight has come to rescue me from this prison of endless woe.” This generated a few chuckles from the women around the room.

  “I think you mean endless wool,” Roland stated, eyeing the piles of yarn surrounding her.

  The room exploded into laughter at his jest, the women enjoying an uncommon visitor livening up an otherwise routine day. Audri’s mouth turned up at the corner. So, the tough knight does have a sense of humor after all.

  “But, of a truth,” he continued, “I know not what perils may loom before me.”

  More peals of mirth came from the surrounding weavers. Audri’s mouth curved up a little more.

  Roland beamed as he turned and winked at Audri. She felt her face grow warm at his friendly gesture and quickly grabbed a stool from the corner, placing it next to Ethel. She thought bringing him into her element would make him a bit uncomfortable, but he was proving his strong ability to adjust. Curse him, she thought with a smile to herself.

  “Your social skills are admirable, Sir Roland,” Audri said to him, “but let’s see what you learn from the loom.” She pointed to the stool next to Ethel. “Sit . . . and receive instruction from the finest weaver in England.”

  “Oh, pffft,” Ethel said, waving the compliment away with an appreciative grin.

  Roland glanced at Audri with confidence before sitting beside the elderly woman.

  “Good heavens, you smell good,” Audri heard Ethel mumble. She saw the corner of Roland’s mouth twitch upward as Audri silently agreed with the observation. “Now, watch what I do, sir,” Ethel said as she faced the massive machine strung with a myriad of colored yarn. Heavy round stones with holes in the centers hung just above her feet, pulling the strings taut. She weaved a shuttle—a pointed wooden dowel wrapped with yarn—through the individual strands of vertical strings stretched in front of her. With a crank, Ethel switched the angle of the strings that crisscrossed each other. Then, using a long removable rod placed between the upper and lower sections, she firmly slid it down after each completed row to pack the weaves tightly together. From time to time, the shuttle was switched for another containing a different color. It was a magical thing to see the aged woman move so fluidly, working the tools in unison to create a beautiful, tightly woven mat of various hues and patterns.

  Audri glanced down at Roland and was pleased to find his eyes roving over the process with fascination.

  Ethel continued her process for about ten minutes before turning to Roland and handing him a shuttle. “Now it’s your turn, brave knight. I hope you were paying attention.”

  “Me? Oh, no, I thought I was just observing.” He turned his uncertain expression toward Audri, and she had the urge to take his hand and console him. She didn’t do this, of course, but the thought wasn’t unpleasant. Still, seeing his doubt, she felt a mixture of delight and smugness. Now she was in a position to help him learn something.

  Ethel stood and motioned for him to sit in her previous spot. Audri also nodded in the direction of the vacated stool, giving him no way out. He took a deep breath and exhaled through puckered lips before taking the shuttle from Ethel’s wrinkled hand and moving onto the seat. He stared at the wooden structure before him and then moved the shuttle to the right side.

  “No, no,” Ethel corrected with the tenderness of a patient grandmother. “You must start on the left, for that is the side I ended on.”

  Roland huffed out a breath, no doubt embarrassed, but clearly frustrated that he hadn’t even begun and had already erred. Observing his inexperience was endearing, and Audri discretely lifted her hand to her mouth, hiding the smile behind it.

  Roland moved the shuttle to the left side and slowly maneuvered it under the first string. He then went over the second, under the third and over the fourth. He paused to glance at Ethel, who gave him an encouraging nod of approval, before he looked at Audri, sending her a pleased, closed-mouth smile that said, I bet you thought I couldn’t do this.

  Audri merely raised her eyebrows, inviting him to show her more.

  He returned his focus to the apparatus and began methodically weaving the shuttle through the taut strings again.

&n
bsp; “Ethel?” a young lass at the other end of the room hailed. “I require your help.”

  “Lady Gibbons, watch his work,” Ethel instructed her before going over to the young woman. Audri took up Ethel’s position standing behind Roland’s hunched form. In order to see his progress, she had to step as close as she could—without actually touching him—and lean forward to peer over his shoulder. She inhaled, taking in his clove scent. It distracted her enough that she almost missed a mistake he made with the weave.

  “Wait, Sir Roland, you missed a string.” Before she realized what she was doing, she reached her hands down on either side of him and placed hers atop his to help him reverse the shuttle to the point where he’d skipped the string.

  She became acutely aware of the heat radiating not only from the back of his hands to her palms but from his back to her chest as they were pressed together. She withdrew her hand and straightened, feeling the connection was too intimate.

  He looked up and over his shoulder. “Thank you, squire,” he said in appreciation but in a way that suggested surprise at her familiar action.

  She could only nod, the temperature of her face rising as the feel of his body lingered longer than it should have.

  Roland turned back to his work, and Audri glanced over at Gail. She was still in conversation with another woman and hadn’t noticed Audri’s over-friendly moment, thank heaven. Roland finished the row, moving the long rod and drawing it down to mesh the weave tightly with the others before beginning his next row from the side he ended on.

  The women whispered and giggled as they worked, mostly about the fine-looking visitor, but Roland didn’t seem to notice as he concentrated on his task. He took it very seriously. Up, down, up, down, he moved the shuttle through until he reached the other end. He did surprisingly well, albeit much slower than the swift and experienced hands of the other weavers, but that was expected of any novice, regardless of how well he wielded a sword.