Word of Honor (Knights of Honor Series Book 1)

by Alexa Aston

  Hardie looked to his betrothed. “Would that please you, Johamma?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Aye, my lord. I would be happy for Lady Alys to join us at Winterbourne.” She turned to Merryn. “I would enjoy learning something about herbs and the healing arts. Would you consider teaching me, my lady? That way you could continue schooling Alys.”

  “Nothing would please me more.” Merryn paused and faced her husband. “Geoffrey? You are so quiet. Would it please you to have the twins at Winterbourne?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss upon it. “If it pleases you, Wife, then I am also pleased.” Geoffrey looked at Hardie. “But what I said stands. I want the twins to remain at Kinwick a while longer.”

  Hardie looked content. And victorious. He lifted his cup. “I can agree to that. Here’s to Ancel and Alys one day becoming a part of the household at Winterbourne.”

  All four of them joined in and sipped their wine. Geoffrey smiled, hiding his displeasure at the thought of his flesh and blood living at Winterbourne, the place he had been enslaved.

  A servant brought their evening meal. As they ate, the two women became engrossed in their conversation. Geoffrey decided to press Hardie about this favor.

  He leaned closer, his voice low. “Why, Hardie? When your father took everything from me—robbed me of years of seeing my own children grow up—why do want them to foster at Winterbourne? As an earl of the realm, you have your pick among the noble families as who might foster in your household. Why must you take my children?”

  Hardie sighed. “I want to make it up to you, Geoffrey. You helped parent me when my own father chose not to. You were my only friend. I want to become a man of honor as you are. I wish to teach your children to be kind and noble and to do the right thing. In some small way, I hope that will repay my debt to you.”

  Though the thought sickened Geoffrey, he knew the decision had been made.

  And the code of chivalry which he had lived his life by now became something he hated.

  As the meal came to an end, he refused to spend another night under the roof of Winterbourne, whether in the highest of chambers or the lowest of dungeons.

  Geoffrey caught Merryn’s eye. “My love, I know we said we would stay the night at the earl’s invitation, but all this talk of Ancel and Alys makes me long to see them. Would you mind if we left now for home? I hate to be apart from them for even a single night.”

  Chapter 25

  Merryn led Alys to the small room where she stored her medicines. Alys skipped happily along, humming to herself. Merryn thought it might be time to give Alys a lute and lessons.

  Once they reached their destination, Merryn lit two lanterns so they could see to work.

  As she began setting out what they would need, she quizzed Alys, much as Sephare had done with her when Merryn was the same age.

  “What should I do if I’ve bumped into something and bruised myself?”

  “I know.” Alys grinned. “Put a large stone into the fire until it’s scorching hot. Then take it out and toss it in water. Dip a cloth in and bathe the bruise.”

  “How often would I do that?”

  Alys thought a moment. “When you rise and when you ready yourself to sleep.”

  “Very good. Why twice a day”

  “It speeds the healing.”

  “And what about a burn? In case you pick up that hot stone with your bare hand instead of a cloth.”

  Alys giggled. “I wouldn’t do that, Mother.”

  “Pretend that you did.”

  “Can I pretend Ancel did? Girls remember things, Mother. Boys always rush in. They do not think. That’s what Tilda says.”

  Merryn chuckled. “Tilda may be right. So Ancel has burned his hand and his loving sister, Alys, will care for him. How would you help your brother’s hand to heal?”

  “I would get some hard fat of a sheep and . . .” Her voice trailed off. She scrunched her nose up in thought. “Oh! I boil it with the rind from an elder tree.”

  “What is made from that mixture?”

  “An ointment. You put it on every day. It will cure a burn and not leave a scar.”

  Merryn hugged her daughter. “I believe someday you will become a great healer. People will come from far and wide for your magical touch, Alys. You are learning your lessons well.”

  “I like to practice on Ancel.”

  “If he allows it. The day may come when Ancel might not be so cooperative,” she warned.

  Alys sniffed. “He thinks he’s so important, carrying around his sword.”

  “Remember, we need to ask Raynor to make you one.”

  “I think Father should make it for me. Then it would be better than the one Ancel has.”

  Merryn ruffled her child’s hair. “Your father would enjoy doing that for you. Ask him when we dine tonight.”

  Merryn picked up two objects they would use in their work today. “Remind me what to call this, Alys.”

  The little girl smiled. “’Tis a mortar and pestle, Mother.”

  “And what will we use them for?”

  “To grind the herbs we have picked.”

  “Aye, into a fine powder. The stone is hard enough to do so, but in a pinch you may also use a very hard wood to pound and crush.” Merryn inspected the mortar and pestle. “Don’t forget that it’s important that you clean it in boiling water after each use.”

  “Why?”

  “You mustn’t allow any of the old herbs you used to remain on the surface and mix with your new creation. A wise healer always cleans her vessels well.”

  Merryn laid out the first batch of dried herbs to grind. “Place these in the mortar. Fill it about halfway to start.”

  Alys did as asked and gave her mother a hopeful look. “May I try it?”

  “You may.”

  Alys concentrated on her task, her movements careful and methodical. She was a thoughtful child and never wanted to disappoint anyone, least of all her mother. Sometimes it surprised Merryn how much they were alike.

  “My lady?”

  Merryn glanced up and saw Tilda standing in the doorway.

  “Your brother and wife have arrived. They are most eager to see you and Lord Geoffrey.”

  “Ah, so Hugh has returned and read my missive. Please escort them to the solar, Tilda.”

  “I have done so, my lady.”

  “Then bring us wine and fruit.” She turned to her daughter. “Set the mortar and pestle aside and cover them with a cloth. We will return to our lesson later this afternoon.”

  “Do you think Milla came for us to help her weeping eyes?”

  “It’s possible, but I think she and your Uncle Hugh are here to visit with your father. He is with Diggory, looking at the rent monies most recently gathered. Would you tell him to come to the solar?”

  “May I ask him about making me a sword?” pleaded Alys.

  “Of course.” She smoothed the girl’s hair and then gave her a nudge. Alys skipped away, once again humming to herself.

  Merryn hurried to their private quarters. When she arrived, she found Hugh and Milla seated, watching Ancel wave his wooden sword around. They both clapped at his antics. She observed the wistful look on Milla’s face.

  “I’m so happy to see you both,” Merryn proclaimed. She caught Ancel’s sword hand and lowered it to his side. “Enough entertaining your aunt and uncle. Run along now and let Alys practice on you.”

  Ancel’s face lit up. “What shall I have this time, Mother? A broken leg?”

  Merryn thought a moment. “Nay. Tell her you are going bald. And that you have a raging fever. Let me know how she decides to care for you.”

  Her son grinned his goodbye and raced from the room.

  “I believe that boy is in constant motion.” Hugh rose and greeted her with a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek. “And your news, Merryn. Christ’s Wounds! I returned from London to your astounding message. We came straight away once I opened and read it. Did Geoffre
y rise from the dead? What—”

  “I shall be brief, for he may come in at any moment.”

  Merryn decided to keep with what she had told others, though she felt guilty lying to her brother. “Geoffrey suffered a most grievous head injury. He doesn’t know where he has been. He has suffered much before he gained his way back to Kinwick. I would rather you not address his time away, Brother. We are concentrating on rejoicing at his return, instead.”

  Hugh frowned at her explanation but did not question her further, thanks to Geoffrey bursting through the door, a wide smile upon his face.

  “Hugh!” he cried. The two men embraced, their hands beating each other’s back till Merryn felt they would be bruised for life.

  Hugh pulled away first. “I have someone you must meet.” He turned and took Milla’s hand. She rose and came to stand before Geoffrey.

  “This is my wife, Milla. My heart’s delight,” Hugh declared. “And we are bursting with good news.”

  Merryn’s eyes widened. “Are you-” Her eyes dropped to her sister-in-law’s belly. It was slightly rounded under her cotehardie.

  “Aye!” Milla declared with delight, throwing her hands into the air.

  Merryn clung to her. Both women began weeping tears of joy.

  “I feared it might never happen, but I am finally with child.”

  “It’s a miracle from God Almighty,” said Hugh. He placed an arm about his wife. His hand rested against her belly. “We don’t care whether it’s a girl or boy. We only pray for a healthy child.”

  “My congratulations to you both,” Geoffrey offered. “First, I’m a father. And now a soon-to-be uncle.”

  “Do you know when the babe might come?” asked Merryn.

  Milla shrugged. “In late autumn, most likely.” She paused. “I shall seek advice from you, Merryn, since you have been through this before.”

  Geoffrey’s arm went around her waist and pulled her to him, a gleam in his eye. “I hope that my sweet wife will again find herself with child before too long.” He dropped a kiss onto her temple. “If the Christ be willing, I would ask for half a dozen more children.”

  Merryn grinned up at him. “Only half a dozen, my lord? Surely, I can accommodate you with at least a good dozen, if not more. Especially if I have them two at a time, as I did the twins.”

  Her husband tossed back his head and roared with laughter at her outrageous words. Then he gave her a heated look and rewarded her with a passionate, lingering kiss.

  “Wife, I believe they may begin this work before our very eyes,” she heard Hugh tease.

  Merryn pulled away from Geoffrey a moment in order to punch her brother in the arm as she had when they were children.

  Then Merryn returned to her husband’s arms for another sizzling kiss.

  She ended the kiss and said, “Tilda should be here soon with wine and fruit. We need to sit and discuss this new babe-to-be and the king’s upcoming visit to Kinwick. Oh, and the Earl of Winterbourne’s upcoming wedding.”

  Hugh laughed. “See what happens when I go to London? Everything changes overnight.”

  As they gathered around the table, Tilda arrived and poured wine for everyone. While the servant did so, Geoffrey slipped Merryn’s hand into his.

  He leaned over and whispered into her ear, “We shall see about making our own babe tonight, my love.”

  Merryn shivered with anticipation.

  Chapter 26

  Geoffrey stood in the training yard and watched his captain of the guard put the men through their paces. Word of Merryn’s proposed tournament during the king’s visit had leaked out. Every knight wanted to prove his prowess in front of Edward and the royal court.

  Gilbert joined him, a satisfied look on his face.

  “You have done well for yourself, Gilbert,” Geoffrey told the man. “I can see why Father promoted you to head of his guard.”

  “Lord Ferand was good to me, my lord. He watched me rise through the ranks and rewarded me with the post.”

  “I remember I always tried to emulate you in warfare and manners. You have been a good influence on the men here at Kinwick, especially during my absence. I must thank you for your service.”

  The knight bowed his head in respect. “We are all happy to have you back, my lord.”

  They watched various pairs duel for several minutes until shouts on the wall-walk distracted them. Geoffrey saw that the sentry on duty waved them over. The two men hurried to hear the soldier’s news.

  “What do you see?” Geoffrey called up.

  “The king’s colors in the distance,” the soldier replied. “But only a lone rider.”

  Geoffrey waved in acknowledgement and set out for the front gate. Gilbert fell into step with him.

  “It’s likely a messenger from the king informing Lady Merryn that he is nearby,” Gilbert shared with him. “The king has sent someone ahead on both his previous visits so that Kinwick had fair warning that the royal progress would soon arrive.”

  “I suppose that allows the kitchens plenty of time to prepare. I know Merryn has been consulting with Cook for a week now in anticipation of this visit. She told me the king has quite a sweet tooth.”

  “Aye, he does, my lord. It’s well known that he fancies Cook’s tarts. Last time he told Lady Merryn if she weren’t careful, he might spirit Cook away in the dead of night.”

  They reached the opening gates and waited for the rider to appear. Geoffrey sensed Gilbert tensing as he stared at the road ahead.

  “Do you recognize this messenger?” Geoffrey asked.

  The captain nodded. “I do, my lord. He came on the king’s last visit. And he also traveled to Kinwick last month.” Gilbert turned his head and spat upon the ground.

  Gilbert’s words piqued Geoffrey’s interest. “What do you think of this man? And what previous business did he have at Kinwick?” He watched as the rider drew near, but he did not recognize the knight.

  “His name is Sir Symond Benedict. He serves as a member of the king’s royal guard.” Gilbert paused. “He came in May to deliver the king’s missive to Lady Merryn regarding the court’s summer visit.”

  Geoffrey knew there had to be more than what Gilbert revealed. The knight’s reluctance to continue told him as much.

  “And?” he prodded, curious as to his captain’s opinion.

  Gilbert kept his eyes on the rider as he approached. “Benedict told me—and several of the men—that the king had chosen him as Lady Merryn’s new husband. That they would wed when King Edward stopped at Kinwick.”

  Geoffrey felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut by an unbroken horse. Merryn had never spoken a word of this to him. Thinking back, this knight might have been present at Kinwick when Geoffrey returned from his imprisonment at Winterbourne.

  And his wife had sent the man away before Geoffrey discovered his presence.

  It made perfect sense. Geoffrey knew he’d been gone long enough for all—even the king-to think him dead. He realized that Edward would have married Merryn off quickly if she had not given birth to a son and an heir. Once Ferand passed, the king would have instructed Merryn to hold the estate in trust for her son. Still, the king had allowed Merryn to remain unmarried for many years.

  Yet it bothered him that the approaching rider would have been the man to protect Kinwick until Ancel came of age. No matter how wise Edward’s choice might have been, this man would have become the only father his children would have known.

  Worse, this arriving knight would have bedded his wife. His seed would have grown within her belly. Anger seethed within Geoffrey.

  Benedict rode through the gates with a merry wave to the gatekeeper, as if he owned the property. Geoffrey took an instant dislike to Symond Benedict upon first sight, from his bushy red beard to his meaty hands.

  The knight trotted his horse to where they stood, the king’s banner in one hand.

  “Good morn to you, Gilbert. Who might your companion be?”

  “I am Geoffrey de M
ontfort. Lord of Kinwick.”

  Geoffrey thought the guardsman might dismount and greet him properly since he’d made himself known. Instead, Benedict merely nodded at him while remaining atop his horse.

  “I am Sir Symond Benedict. I come from King Edward and bear a missive for Merryn.” The knight paused. “Lady Merryn,” he corrected as he pulled a scroll from his pouch.

  Geoffrey’s rage at the man’s familiar use of Merryn’s name threatened to explode, but he would not play this knight’s game. He believed the casual slip a deliberate one and thought Benedict goaded him.

  Instead, he coolly replied, “I shall see that my wife receives it,” and plucked it from Benedict’s hand. “Take your horse to the stables and care for the animal. You may join the other soldiers at our evening meal.”

  Geoffrey strode away, dismissing Benedict as no more than an errand boy. He clutched the missive, finding it odd why the king would address it to Merryn and not him. She had written the king and made him aware that Geoffrey had returned to Kinwick.

  He knew his wife was supervising the candle making this afternoon, so he sought her out near the kitchens. He watched as Merryn inspected some and approved them. His heart pounded in his chest as he viewed her. Every time he drew near her, he counted his blessings that she was his.

  Merryn glanced up and caught sight of him. She gave him a sweet smile. Geoffrey motioned her over.

  “How did the training exercises go?” she asked. “I can imagine all those weapons swinging and men grunting. They will be worn to the nub by the time we dine tonight, each trying to outperform the other.”

  “The men look forward to showing their skills to the king and queen.” He held up the parchment. “This arrived only now, via messenger. From the king.”

  “Then he must be nearby. At least Edward is considerate enough to give us some warning. I hear he is not as generous with everyone else and often stops unannounced, expecting to be entertained on a grand scale.” She chuckled. “As if feasts simply cook themselves and appear out of nowhere.”