by C. C. Wiley
“Aye, my lady.” The page tipped his head and loped off down the hill toward the gardens.
Meg went in search of her sisters. They were bound to be waiting, impatient to be done with the morning chores and head off to their own pursuits. She cringed. Animal husbandry and alchemy. How would she ever find a husband for either one?
Her sour mood increased with each drudgery-filled step. A frown dug into her forehead. “What are they up to?”
Brother John and Sir Nathan strolled, their heads together, talking of things that had better not include her. Best to nip it before some misguided fool decided something that would be for her own good.
“Greetings—” Her breath caught when her father’s old friend stumbled. Her hand dropped to her side. Relief swept over her as Nathan righted him and they continued on.
She held back and followed them to the armory. Baldric stood at the entrance, leaning against the wall. His newly rescued puppy sat beside him, tethered to a shrub with a leather lead. The dog watched his every move and pranced on three legs when Baldric jumped up and pulled out a key.
Meg counted the keys on the ring attached to her belt. Her pulse raced as all three males entered the building. Did they honestly think she would allow her brother to wield a sword?
“Halt! Don’t you dare take one step farther.” When they ignored her command, Meg lifted her skirts and hurried to enter before they slammed the door on her.
She slipped into the room. Weapons lined the wall. Their usefulness only as good as the warrior who used them. A small blessing that they had been hidden from sight on DePierce’s one and only visit. He would have confiscated them and left them completely defenseless. As it was, they had a handful of able-bodied men and women to defend an attack. And their enemies knew this. ’Twas another reason for Meg to despise the man.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Nathan’s brows arched. The corner of his mouth twitched. She shivered as his gaze slid over her. “I should think ’tis easy to see that we are about to train.”
Her chest squeezed against the bodice, begging for air. She slammed the door shut, blocking their escape. “By whose permission?”
“Meg, don’t you recall? We told you last eve. After vespers.”
Brother John eased his way past the shields and swords. “I think it is a wise decision. You should be congratulated for thinking to utilize our young guest. Imagine it. Lord Baldric, trained by a king’s knight. It will make the villagers sit up and take notice.” He patted her shoulder in his fatherly way. “A very wise move, Lady Margaret.”
All three males shared an innocent glance as they waited for her to give her leave. She knew when she was being manipulated. Did she not? Yet they did have a point. She hated that they might be right.
“A word, Sir Nathan.” She spun on her heel and left for him to follow. Outside, she tapped her foot to keep her irritation from growing. She twitched her skirt out of the way of the dog’s teeth. A shadow formed and stretched over her shoulder. “He is just a boy.”
Nathan sighed. “He is. But he is ready to become a man.”
She turned and tilted her head to search his face. “He is young. Untried.”
“Sheltered. Protected. Cossetted,” he added.
Meg folded her arms across her chest. “He was only five years of age when we lost our parents.”
“And now he is ten years. Past the age a boy is sent to foster with another family.”
“I know, but—”
“Boys younger than he are already learning to wield a weapon. You cannot continue to treat him as if he was still wearing nappies.”
Forbidden tears stung her eyes. “You’ve seen him. His…leg. What if he is injured or worse?”
Shards of green jade glittered in return. “What is worse than losing your own respect?”
“We’ve lost so much already.”
“And if you take this away he will lose even more. Meg,” he soothed. His arms came around her shoulders. Warmth seeped through the flannel sleeves. “I will teach him to defend himself.” He brushed his lips across the hairline by her temple. “Let me show him and you that he is stronger than either one of you believe.”
Meg nodded, giving into his pleas.
“I vow to protect him,” he said as he released her.
She ached to feel his arms holding her for more than a fleeting moment. “See that you do.”
Baldric and Brother John walked out of the armory and kept their faces suspiciously turned from her wrath. “See that you return that dog to the stables before you begin your lessons.”
“I thought to bring him with me,” Baldric said as he knelt to untie the lead. “Whitefoot needs fresh air if he is to grow stronger.”
“You think he can keep up with you,” she snapped. “But I wager he’ll hold you back.” As soon as she said it and read his crestfallen expression, she wished she’d never said the hurtful words.
“’Tis certain your sister has yet to see his many wonderful qualities,” Sir Nathan broke in to make peace. “And she does have a good point. You’ll want your full attention on our swords. Run along, lad, and return your pup to his bed while I gather our weapons.”
Meg chewed on her lip and watched her little brother limp away. Simple as that. Nathan’s orders were followed. “I meant him no harm.”
Brother John dipped his head. “I shall see to the lad and offer a prayer for you, my lady.
Chapter 11
Nathan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. What had he agreed to? No matter what that monk had planned, he was not going to prolong his stay. He would set a few matters on the right path. See that the locks were repaired. Discover what secrets the blacksmith held. Find the tunnel that the king was convinced held vast treasure. Make certain that his mind was strong again. And then be on his way.
His plans did not include getting involved with the family members of Fletchers Landing. And yet, here he was.
He and Baldric stood in the pasture. They squared off, their practice swords ready. He took in a deep breath and prepared to teach the young lad a few steps in swordplay.
His blade rapped against Baldric’s wooden sword. “Keep your head up. Your thoughts clear.”
Fear widened Baldric’s eyes. He stepped back, letting his guard drop. His foot dragged across the ground. As the boy had predicted, the weaker leg gave out.
“Keep your feet wide and grounded.”
Baldric widened his stance. He repositioned his arms and took a deep breath.
“Be aware of your surroundings,” Nathan said. He patted his chest. “Trust your instincts. Notice what a threat is. And what is not.”
“Like knowing if a wild boar is charging,” Baldric said with a nod.
“Correct. Or is it a sow, protecting her piglet. Both are dangerous.”
The lad grinned. “Better to notice them before they’re on top of you.”
Nathan snapped his attention to the trees. “Do not let a beautiful young woman distract you.”
“Who?” Baldric made a face and searched the field. “Do you mean my sister Meg?” His sword arm wavered. “Shite! She must have found Whitefoot in my bedchamber.”
“Keep your mind on the situation.” Nathan let his shoulders relax. Meg sat on the boulder, her chin resting in her palm. Baldric’s puppy lay next to her feet. She had removed her cap and her long mane had come unbound. It flowed over shoulders, a silken waterfall.
His hands were no longer shaking. The sword’s hilt fit comfortably in his fist. There was strength in his grasp. His mind was indeed free of the panic that had sat upon him for months. He made a wide arching swing of his blade.
Baldric parried and drew him back to the practice field. Their blades caught.
Nathan blinked and returned his attention to his student. “Keep your stance strong. F
or now, you’ll have a shorter reach and will want to stay in close and swing faster. If your opponent has a longer reach he won’t be able to swing in as easily. ”
“Like the stairways in the tower?” Baldric bared his teeth and came at him, his wooden training blade jabbing and parrying.
Nathan’s breaths came from deep within his chest. It roared in his ears. He clawed away from the crimson stain spreading into his view. There was no turning back. He had to find the control that allowed him to fight without losing a part of himself.
He brought his sword around and braced against another blow.
Baldric was beginning to tire. The flow of the thrusts diminished. His feet began to lose their position.
Nathan caught him as he fell. Their swords tumbled to the ground. Baldric’s chest heaved as he gasped for another breath.
“Well done, my lord,” Nathan said.
“Next time, I’ll be ready for the reivers.”
Nathan bent to pick up the sword and return it. He paused, searching for the warning without disparaging the boy’s skill. “We have much to work on.” He held up his hand. “And we will come again on the morrow. But you are not to take part in a battle alone until I say that you are ready.”
Baldric’s flushed cheeks wore a darker hue. “And if they come before?”
“Then I’ll be in that battle beside you.” Nathan ruffled his dark curls and looked over the top of his head at Meg. He could not seem to shake loose of the need to protect and be near her. To let her sweet scent of honey flow over him, pour into every breath. Was that admiration gleaming from her regard?
“Mayhap I should go,” Baldric said.
Nathan caught him before he had an opportunity to escape his sister’s wrath. He threw his arm over Baldric’s shoulder. “Come. Let us speak with your sister. She’ll want to ensure that you are in one piece.”
* * * *
Meg pressed lips together and jumped up from her perch. She’d been caught staring at Nathan. Again. She wanted to groan, but thought better of it. The man had a way about him that made her forget herself and all of her responsibilities. Whether he was chasing down a lost ewe, swinging a sword, or walking across a pasture, he moved with a graceful stride. But this time, he had a bit of a swagger to his steps. The sun brought glints of gold and auburn in his hair. Flecks of copper glistened on his jaw. He grinned as if he had won the battle of life.
Her little brother tried to match his strides until Nathan noticed and swung him up to ride on his broad shoulders.
“Huzzah!” Baldric cried. He poked the sky with his wooden sword. His cherub’s face, complete with damp dark curls clinging to his sweaty brow, was wreathed in utter joy. How long had it been since she had witnessed such emotion? If not for Nathan, he would still not know the wonder of accomplishment.
Her heart warmed. Her insides felt hot and sticky, like one of the pastries Cook baked only for holidays.
“My lady.” Nathan bent a knee to let Baldric slide off his arm. He caught her hand to press a kiss upon her fingers. She gasped as his lips left a scorched trail over her flesh and left her speechless. Wide-eyed, she felt her legs begin to melt.
“Meg. Did you see me? ’Twas like battling a dragon.” Baldric yanked her back to reality with a tug on her sleeve. Worry seeped into his voice as he knelt beside the bouncing puppy. “Why are you here? Is there trouble?”
She glanced down. “Trouble?” she stuttered. Only where my heart may be concerned.
“You never come out here,” he said. Suspicion laced through his statement.
She presented the lead, shoving it into his hand. “One of the chambermaids discovered your little friend hiding under your bed. He made a puddle on the floor and ate part of a rug.”
“I’m sorry, Meg. He needs me.” He glanced up over his hunched shoulder. Whitefoot licked his neck and chin until Baldric fell over and rolled in the grass. He looked up at her and fluttered his lashes. “You did order me to return him to his bed.”
Nathan rested his fists on his hips. “You are an obstinate boy but I believe your sister has had more practice.”
Meg rubbed her temple and refused to acknowledge Nathan’s presence. “Baldric, you and Whitefoot will follow my rules or face the consequences. I’ll not allow you to create more work for everyone else.”
“Yes, Meg.” Baldric sat up, cuddling his new friend.
Good. Finally someone was actually listening to her. “You will have to keep that dog with you at all times. The only way he will be allowed in the keep and your bedchamber is if he is properly trained.”
“Phillipa and I have started training him. He’s quite smart. Brother John believes Whitefoot will be a good ratter.”
“I’ll not have vermin in our living quarters,” she continued. “The moment a flea of any sort appears in the rushes, he will be returned to the stables.”
“Not to worry. Anna has a tonic that we have already begun to use.”
“Have all of you spoken about this without me?”
“You’ve been quite busy, Meg.” He shrugged. “We thought it best not to bother you. ’Tis why I’m surprised to find you here.”
“I…I…” she sputtered, “I fear my family has united to form a conspiracy against me.”
Mortification licked up her neck. Verily, she could not admit that she stole the time away from her concerns to watch the play of Nathan’s muscles and sinew. The dance of flesh and strength had nearly taken her breath away. Even now, she wanted to lick the saltiness from his skin.
Nathan saved her from embarrassment and helped her to avoid an answer. “Now that the puppy is settled I believe it is a couple of famished men who stand before you.” He leaned over the boulder. “Mayhap dear Meg brought us sustenance.”
“I fear not,” she admitted. If only she had thought that far ahead. Somehow, he had done it again and caused all reason and thought to disappear. “’Tis not quite time for vespers.”
His mouth kicked up. His full lips sweetened his mischievous expression. “Ah, alas no basket.” He clasped Meg’s hand to his chest. “Then we must away to the kitchens and convince poor Cook to feed our starving souls.”
“I shall spread the word.” Sword in hand, Baldric squealed and set off for the keep. Whitefoot galloped and weaved beside him.
Meg could not hold the laughter of his lunacy in any longer. She turned her hand so that her palm rested over Nathan’s heart. Her chin lifted. If only this once. Please Lord. Just this one time. ’Tis all I’m seeking.
The cadence of Nathan’s heartbeat increased under her palm. It joined with hers until she could not separate them.
“Ah, Meg,” he groaned as his mouth came down on hers. He tasted of pears and ale. Honey mead and sunshine. Light and laughter. He tasted of hope and passion and she could not let him go. His lips found her neck, then they nibbled behind her ear.
Meg wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She stepped closer, pressing until his need became apparent. Emboldened, she found his firm buttocks. Wave after wave of desire crashed into her bones and sinew until she thought her legs would give out.
Why had she waited all these years to feel again? What a coward she had been. But now, there were no betrothals. No promises of marriage. She was free, like a bird that takes wing on the wind, she would soar and this man would help her fly. If only for the time he remained at Fletchers Landing.
“Fire!” someone screamed in the distance. “Fire!”
Chapter 12
Nathan tore his mouth from Meg’s. The terror in her eyes gave him pause.
“No,” she cried. “No. What have I done?” She scrubbed the remnants of their kiss from her lips.
Together, they ran, hand in hand toward the village. He pulled her along as their strangled breaths threatened to break them apart. “Stay with me,” he called.
Smoke billow
ed from one of the outbuildings. Flames licked the thick black clouds.
Wide-eyed, Meg pointed to the roof. “Dear God. It’s next to the chandlery. What of the children? I must find Baldric and the girls.”
Nathan grabbed her arms. “Brother John will have reached them before us. He will see to their safety. We must keep our heads. Do you have a plan if a fire should ever leap its hearth?”
“Yes, the villagers know what to do. But we don’t have the number of men that we used to.”
“Call all the able-bodied servants to you. Have them gather every bucket they can find. Wet the blankets and bath sheets. Bring them to the outbuildings.”
He stopped running, and gathered her to his chest. “And Meg, I beg you, be safe.” He kissed the crown of her head before releasing her.
She cupped his jaw. “You as well.”
Meg gathered her skirts and raced toward the tower. “To me,” she screamed. “To me!”
He spun on heel and ran toward the burning building.
* * * *
Smoke lingered in the air, thick and strong; it filled the nostrils and sat upon the tongue. It stuck to everyone’s clothing and hair. Everyone would be reliving that nightmare for some time to come.
Nathan’s arms and back ached from spreading as much water as he could over the thatched roofs and sides of the buildings. His hair smelled of burnt feathers. All who stood before him were covered in soot.
Meg poured the bucket of seawater over the last glowing ember and sunk down on a low wall. Her face and dark hair were coated in a dove-gray powder. Stains stretched over her skirt and across her bodice. And yet, he could not help but think what a beauty she was to behold. A warrior for her people. She’d fought to save her village and she’d won. The villagers stopped her, speaking a word of gratitude. His heart swelled with admiration. He ached to taste her lips again, to kiss her until they were both breathless with desire.