Her Christmas Knight

by Nicole Locke

  Eldric laughed. ‘Ah, yes. The back of my leg still hasn’t recovered from that spirited mount of hers the other day.’

  ‘I thought you had only recently returned?’ Hugh interjected.

  Eldric raised his brow at Hugh. ‘As you know, you don’t need to be in Alice’s company for long before suffering some sort of injury.’

  Alice clenched her hands at Eldric’s seemingly friendly but cutting words. If she had a sensible bone in her body, like Elizabeth, she’d leave well enough alone. But she didn’t—and she wouldn’t. If he thought her a whore, she’d play that part, too.

  Smiling broadly, she playfully tapped Eldric’s arm. ‘Your being behind my mount was entirely your own fault, and you know it.’

  Eldric’s smile returned. ‘And that’s why you had me ride outside the town’s border to bring sacks of bread to those families?’

  ‘It was the only way to get you away from me.’ She pointed her finger. ‘Why are you everywhere I am? You’re even here. I believe you are following me.’

  Hugh’s studying eyes were on her now. For some reason it made her feel reckless. Being around him made her feel reckless. Feeling his gaze, being reminded of his words in the garden, made her angry all over again.

  ‘It’s dangerous to follow you,’ Eldric said. ‘Why, the next day you had me cleaning the church.’

  Elizabeth laughed. ‘The church? You didn’t!’

  ‘He’s making that one up,’ Alice said.

  ‘Am I? And for what purpose?’

  ‘What reason does any man have for displaying his good deeds? So he can be doted on.’

  ‘Ah, I’m caught out. Would you dote on me?’

  Eldric was definitely flirting with her. While he might not live in Swaffham, he did have a residence here. Therefore he was as much a target for her spying as any other in the town.

  Tapping her chin, she answered, ‘No...’

  ‘You wound me.’ Eldric put his hand on his heart. ‘If you did, I would probably carry on with more of your good deeds.’

  Alice gave a true smile then. The more they talked, the more Hugh’s inscrutable mien turned to a scowl. She was provoking him, yes, but he’d come to Swaffham, to her family’s house. If he didn’t like what he saw it was his issue, not hers. She had a traitor to catch. Eldric was a target—as was everyone else in this town.

  Elizabeth laid a hand on Eldric’s elbow. ‘My sister will be busy with other projects. Soon she’ll be inspecting Mitchell’s new thread-making methods.’

  ‘That gives me all the more reason,’ Eldric replied. ‘If only to warn Mitchell about getting too close to you. What evil good deeds will you demand of that poor man?’

  ‘I’m retiring for the evening,’ Hugh interjected. The cold tone of his voice was a marked contrast to Eldric’s warm one. ‘I’ll be in the carriage, Eldric.’

  With a curt nod to Elizabeth, Hugh turned on his heal.

  Eldric’s warm eyes dimmed. When he turned to smile, it didn’t reach his eyes as it had before. ‘I suppose that’s a signal for me to retire as well. Thank you, Elizabeth, for allowing him to come.’

  ‘Of course,’ Elizabeth replied. ‘He was welcome. Yet perhaps not so very welcome over the next month.’

  Alice hadn’t expected her sister to announce her intention of marrying, but her statement couldn’t be taken for anything differently.

  ‘I don’t follow,’ Eldric replied.

  ‘She means,’ Alice said, taking charge of this conversation, ‘that I have agreed to accept a wedding suit. She believes Hugh might disrupt that plan.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I did notice the seating arrangement.’

  ‘St Martin’s Day seating is always planned,’ Elizabeth said.

  Eldric’s eyes narrowed. ‘Does Hugh know?’

  Alice felt like throwing her hands in the air or hurting someone. Preferably Hugh. ‘It is none of his concern. And if his knowledge is a concern to you, your conversation has certainly proved otherwise.’

  ‘Yes, but had I known...’ Eldric glanced behind him, and then gave a formal nod. ‘This will be an interesting time that I look forward to very much. Now I should see to the carriage.’

  ‘The night seems milder, so I hope the roads fare you well tonight,’ Elizabeth said.

  When Eldric was out of earshot, Elizabeth raised one imperial brow.

  ‘That didn’t look like anything was over.’

  ‘This dinner certainly is, and the goose was delicious.’

  ‘Alice, what is going on?’

  ‘Other than my eating entirely too much and wanting to sleep for three days, I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You do know what I mean because you did two things this evening—’

  ‘Only two?’

  ‘You have certainly never spent time with wool merchants or spinners before. Your projects have always involved the poor and less fortunate.’

  But those poor and less fortunate wouldn’t get her into the home of a possible traitor.

  ‘I know that’s our sister Mary’s passion, but it’s not that I don’t like the business. It’s difficult not to have some concern—especially with Father’s severe lack of care.’ Alice lifted a shoulder. ‘Anyway, doesn’t my interest only confirm my dedication for possible suitors?’

  Elizabeth tapped her chin. ‘As to those suitors... I noticed you ignoring someone the entire night.’

  ‘I thought you’d chastised me for giving Mitchell too much attention.’

  ‘You know who I mean.’

  If she ignored her sister the conversation would only get worse. ‘Hugh? Of course I ignored him. I told you I am looking for a husband, and Hugh hardly suits.’

  Elizabeth frowned. ‘You didn’t look at him once. You purposely avoided him. No one does that unless they want to talk to them.’

  ‘Your argument makes no sense,’ Alice scoffed, though she knew exactly what her sister meant. Every moment sitting next to Hugh had made her feel like wool on a distaff just waiting for the spindle to twirl and pull. ‘And I did talk to him once.’

  ‘Then quickly turned around,’ Elizabeth pointed out.

  She had—like a dangling spindle with too much weight. ‘Don’t you have any duties other than spying on me?’

  Alice immediately regretted her words. It wasn’t only the use of the word spy, it was because—

  ‘I know you too well, sister,’ Elizabeth interrupted. ‘When you prevaricate, you’re on the defensive. So what is it that you’re hiding?’

  Chapter Seven

  The morning air was crisp and cold with a heavy mist. Hugh didn’t care about the bite of the air or the swirls of icy wind that brushed against his tunic. What he did care about was the weight of his sword and the terrain around him as he faced Eldric.

  It was madness, being out here at this time of day, in this kind of weather. The mud and frost-crusted earth made for dangerous footwork. But he revelled in the fact that Eldric hadn’t hesitated when he’d suggested it. He owed his friend retribution for last night.

  He made a swift raising of his sword as Eldric swung down. The clatter was nothing to the reverberation arcing up his arms and stabbing down his back.

  ‘Quit!’ Eldric gasped.

  Hugh shook his head. Eldric was a taller and broader man and, given the terrain today, Hugh was taking the full brunt of every blow. His shoulders ached as if he carried one hundred shields, the slightest weight had become excruciating.

  Eldric was faring no better. His sword visibly pulled on his strength, its tip lowering with each of his breaths. Hugh knew he simply had to outlast him, and quickly.

  He swiped his sword low, and Eldric missed the tip by stumbling back. Hugh took advantage by digging in his toes and swiping again.

  He’
d been a stumbling fool last night. A night at a dinner he never would have accepted if not for the amount of alcohol drowning out all his reason. In the light of day he could excuse himself, tell himself that he’d needed to keep up the facade of searching for the Seal.

  But his ego shouldn’t have been anywhere near Alice last night.

  On a surge of strength he thrust forward again, and again.

  ‘Enough!’ Eldric spread his unsteady arms wide and bowed his head to take gasps of breath.

  Hugh clutched his sword’s hilt in both hands and dipped the tip into the hard earth, so he could lean on it. Stupid, when he knew how to treat his weapons—knew he’d have to clean and sharpen it again. But if he didn’t his buckling legs would give away how close Eldric had come to defeating him.

  He’d won, but didn’t feel like a victor. Hugh’s body quaked, and he could barely breathe, but that restlessness underneath it all was barely quenched.

  ‘Let’s swim,’ he declared.

  ‘Are you joking? It’s mostly frozen.’ Eldric pointed to the small lake.

  ‘And I’m mostly mud, thanks to you who led us to this delightful patch of ground.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ Eldric smiled as he wiped the hair off his face. ‘Since it was you who suggested such a folly, I thought to give myself as much advantage as possible.’

  It had worked, but not enough. Hugh pulled off his tunic, his arm shuddering at the full stretch.

  ‘Good God, you’re serious. I can barely stand up, and I know you are no better.’

  ‘The cool water will wake us up.’

  Eldric yanked off his boots. ‘Cool? There is ice floating along the edges!’

  ‘We’ll be quick.’

  ‘I’m not competing in this, too,’ Eldric said, but he was quicker to the water, his large frame diving under before rising to the surface.

  Hugh shouted when the water hit him, but he welcomed the numbing flow against his skin as he swum out to Eldric’s depth.

  Despite the cold, both men trod water, letting the mud and the blood swirl away.

  ‘Don’t care if I win or lose this round—I’m heading back before my ballocks is smaller than berries,’ Eldric said.

  Hugh followed, noticing for the first time the markings on Eldric’s right arm.

  ‘I didn’t take you for the decorating sort,’ Hugh gasped through the water.

  Eldric’s stopped mid-stroke, surprise lighting the determined look on his face. ‘Decorating?’

  ‘On your arm.’

  Eldric lunged abruptly ahead again. When he suddenly stood, Hugh, breathing hard, pulled up next to him. Still in the water, still surrounded by ice, he was ready to return to the shore. His friend looked ready to swim to France.

  Despite Eldric’s countenance being suddenly blacker than the water they swam in, Hugh prodded. ‘There are three stripes evenly spaced on your left arm. What’s the anger about? Are you embarrassed? You wouldn’t be the first to hold still while someone sliced your arm. If you wanted to look fierce, you should have practised your sword skills.’

  ‘Do they look like clean knife-cuts?’ Eldric bit out.

  They didn’t. But then he didn’t expect Eldric had got purposely tribal cut. ‘So you got drunk, and the man who did it had a few more cups than you.’

  ‘They’re slices from arrows. I got them in battle. Two battles.’

  Hugh sluiced the water off his face. ‘Are you saying those were done by some bowman...on purpose?’

  Eldric cursed and surged forward again. Hugh followed. Fast and sure strokes until he reached the shore and heaved himself to the dry hard ground.

  Hugh battled his thundering heart and shaking limbs. The restlessness in him was appeased. He didn’t know if it was the exercise or his friend’s tumultuousness.

  ‘Yes,’ Eldric said, pulling himself up. ‘And by the same archer.’

  Winter air slashed against his bare skin, and Hugh scrambled for his clothes. Eldric seethed with emotions he recognised, but didn’t understand.

  ‘Not a very good archer. He missed you three times.’

  Eldric yanked his clothes from the ground, the fabric spilling over his clenched fist. ‘He did not miss.’

  Hopping, almost stumbling on Eldric’s words and their import, Hugh tugged his breeches over his wet legs.

  ‘He did not miss,’ Eldric repeated, wrapping his braies around his waist, ‘because as he sliced my arm he killed the men who had watched my back. These—’ Eldric pointed to the top two slices ‘—were in the first battle. I hardly paid attention to the first—a mere scratch compared to Thomas’s death. Then the second happened, and it burned across my arm that was already throbbing from the first hit. Already consumed with Thomas’s death, I had to face Michael’s. I looked at my arm, and at my friend with an arrow through his throat, and I called for retreat. We fled, but I looked for that bastard. I burned with retribution even as I feared for every man who ran beside me.’

  With hands shaking as he tied his belt, Hugh understood what Eldric wasn’t saying. Fear in battle for yourself and others made you reckless, or hesitate. Men died because of fear.

  ‘This one—’ Eldric pointed to the wound directly underneath the other two ‘—I earned later. It, too, preceded the killing of a man who was watching my left flank.’

  ‘By the same archer? How is that possible?’

  ‘Do you doubt it?’

  He would, if not for his friend’s certainty. ‘How could he know it was you?’

  ‘One of the questions I have been asking myself, and on that day I almost got an answer.’

  ‘You saw him?’

  Eldric nodded. ‘He was at a distance, but I’d noticed men falling with unerring accuracy. Maddened, I searched everywhere. I looked in places he couldn’t possibly be. And then there he was: up in the trees. In the trees!’ Eldric shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. ‘I was running for him. Full out. In the battle I dodged and weaved through men. As I did so he aimed and let loose another arrow. This arrow.’

  Hugh gaped. He had to. Eldric was not heavy-footed. When he ran, a man would be hard pressed to catch him, let alone cut him accurately. ‘The skill...’

  ‘The revenge,’ Eldric whispered. ‘That bastard knew who I was as I ran for him, and still he marked me. When it happened I looked behind me. To this day I wonder whether, if I had simply left well enough alone, Philip would still have died.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘An arrow struck Philip. I had to stop—had to see if I could...’ Eldric shook his head. ‘When I turned around again the archer was gone. I never saw him again.’

  ‘Personal and business,’ Hugh whispered, now fully understanding.

  ‘That’s why I’m here. I’ve been tracking him ever since. When I get close he disappears. That’s because he never appears.’

  ‘You think he’s here?’

  ‘I can’t imagine him hiding in Swaffham, but he’s near. I know nothing except that he’s small. Almost tiny. But that and his bow skill have been enough information to allow me to track him.’

  ‘A Scotsman?’

  ‘I don’t think so. He’s too well versed with the English garrisons. He is either part of them or a spy.’

  ‘One of our own shooting at you?’

  Eldric ran a hand over his face. ‘As you said—personal and business.’

  The day had changed. Hugh’s restlessness had come to this. A stalemate of discord.

  ‘You win,’ Hugh said. ‘I know for certain that I’ve nothing but the bitterest of winter berries between my legs now. I’m for ale and a hot fire.’

  The grief in Eldric’s eyes eased. ‘I knew you were getting soft.’

  25th November

  The afternoon’s insidious win
d snaked up Alice’s skirts until even her shivers had shivers. The market didn’t hold the usual cacophony of animal sounds, but different distractions filled the void. Celebratory notes sounded as entertainers delighted children and the smells of warm bread and spiced ale wafted in the crisp damp air.

  Alice had never liked the market’s delights. Still, she painstakingly walked through every row of stalls, careful to feign interest in each ware. More careful to ask questions of each vendor.

  She’d been doing this since she’d arrived home. Markets and vendors and sellers were a font of information as easily for sale as their loaves and jars. Most were the same vendors, but sometimes there was someone new.

  She was getting desperate for new ones. Since she’d begun she’d asked hundreds of questions, but most of the answers didn’t further anything of what she had already gained from her own household.

  Lately she’d sensed that the vendors had become less open and friendly to talk with her. With every shrug and non-answer, she felt the bars closing in on her family.

  At least now she had a reason to be here.

  Twelfth night would come soon, the time to exchange gifts, and though she needed information far more than baubles and frivolity, she also needed to shop. She loved her family’s warmth and generosity, but could never appreciate their need for presents when there were families worse off.

  But it was easy enough to find the ribbon Elizabeth had mentioned. It was a beautiful weave of blue and green that would be perfect for her sister. Perfect, but not good enough.

  It wasn’t the market making her maudlin, it was merely her work on the project she and Mitchell had planned with the spinners. It was merely that morning with William, who had complained and moaned in frustration because he had not been able to do his sums. It was the fact that for the first time she had lost her patience with him.

  Her slamming of the abacus on the table had shocked him—and herself—and he’d scrambled off the bench and out of the room. His eyes had held tears of frustration at himself more than hurt, but she felt terrible. She’d always had patience with him before. Always. She would apologise to him as soon as she’d finished her shopping.