The Circle Of A Promise

by Helen A Rosburg

  “Never, baby brother.” Amanda hugged him. “I know there’s an answer to all this. A solution. I just know it.”

  Stephen hugged her back. He was starting to believe.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sky was blindingly blue. Scattered patches of high white clouds scudded overhead. Their shadows moved across the land as a lofty wind blew southward. A field of corn was in sunlight, then shadow; a flock of sheep moved in and out of the light, soaring clouds moving swiftly over the verdant meadow; a herd of cattle raised their heads as the sky darkened, and a moment later returned to their placid grazing in the light.

  The earthbound winds were not steady as those aloft, but fitful and brisk. In the warm and brilliant sunshine, Mara felt the dampness of sweat start beneath her woolen tunic. Then the spring breeze rose to cool her flesh and whip errant tendrils of hair about her face and neck. Laughing, she pulled her palfrey to a halt.

  Beside her on his stallion, Stephen raised his face to the wind. Perspiration trickled from his temples. His chain mail glittered brightly.

  “It seems the day cannot make up its mind,” Mara said. “First hot, then cool. Shadow and sunlight.”

  “Too much sunlight. Not enough shade.” Her betrothed wiped his brow.

  “Shall we make for the woods?”

  Stephen turned in his saddle and glanced at Jack, who rode a discreet distance behind them. Mara’s great gray dog flopped to the ground and panted mightily.

  “I don’t think Jack or Trey would be averse.” He directed his attention to the long, downward slope of the hill in front of them, and the welcoming gloom of the forest beyond.

  Without hesitation, Mara put her heels to her mare. “Race you!”

  Stephen watched for a moment as he held his prancing, eager stallion on a tight rein. Mara amazed him. Everything about her delighted him; her wit, her charm, her forthright innocence and honesty. Now he watched her race her mare, riding as lightly and easily as a feather borne on the breeze. Her prowess on horseback was undeniable. He would win the race only because of his more powerful animal. With a grin, Stephen gave his mount its head.

  Mara heard Stephen’s charger pounding the ground behind her. In seconds she would be overtaken. She had no chance on her smaller, slower mare, but she would not give in without a fight.

  Stephen almost caught the dappled palfrey. Had he reached out, he might have tangled his fingers in the strands of her flying tail. He would easily reach the forest first. But then something incredible happened, something he would not have believed if he had not seen it with his own eyes.

  Mara crouched low on her horse’s neck and eased herself forward over the front of her saddle. She transferred both reins to her right hand and, with her left, reached down to grab the buckle that secured the saddle’s girth. It was a dangerous maneuver, but the equerry who had taught her to ride had been a thorough teacher.

  “If you’re being pursued, lass,” he had told her, “and flight is your only hope, you need every bit of speed you can muster. You’ll need to give your mount every bit of advantage. Shed all the weight you can, girl, including your saddle.”

  The buckle was quickly unfastened. Clinging tightly to the mare’s shoulders, high on her withers, Mara gave her saddle a shove. Stephen’s stallion had to leap over the obstacle.

  Mara lashed her mare’s flanks with the ends of her reins. Free of the heavy saddle, the horse leapt ahead as she felt the smart slap. Her ears pinned, her nostrils flaring, the palfrey reached the shady edge of the forest a full length ahead of the chestnut stallion.

  Breathless, Mara tugged on her reins. Stephen pulled up beside her, a crooked grin on his handsome mouth.

  “You win,” he conceded. “And if that wasn’t the most remarkable feat I’ve ever seen, I’d call it cheating and demand a rematch.”

  “Cheating?” An outraged Jack appeared on his own lathered brown mare. “That was courtin` death!”

  The nimble man slipped from his mount. He had retrieved Mara’s saddle and carried it to her dappled palfrey. “I’ll admit, my lady, that you’re a wonder on a horse. But my hair’s gray already and the only thing left for it to do is fall out. If you don’t want your lord havin` a bald servant, please don’t be doin‘ that sort o` thing again.”

  Stephen silently agreed with Jack. This girl was a risk-taker, no doubt of it, as competitive and courageous as any man. Perhaps more so. But the thought of something happening to her made the blood run cold in his veins.

  “At the very least,” he said, dismounting, “these animals could do with a nice, sedate walk.”

  Jack volunteered. “I’ll take them, m’lord. You and the lady catch yer wind and follow along later.”

  “Thank you, Jack,” Mara said with a wide smile.

  The little man blushed as he took her palfrey’s reins.

  It was no wonder, he thought, that his young baron seemed already besotted. Not only was the young lady beautiful and brave-if somewhat foolhardy-she could probably charm fish out of a lake.

  Mara watched Stephen’s servant lead the horses away, thankful for his kindness. There wasn’t much left of the day, and she wanted to draw out and savor every moment with Stephen she could. She gazed up at her betrothed, a smile in her eyes.

  “That was quite a feat of horsemanship,” he repeated dryly. “I suppose you’re going to tell me next that you can defeat me at swordplay as well.”

  Mara blushed. “I doubt I could best you,” she replied honestly. “But I might just hold my own against you.”

  Stephen felt his jaw drop. Although, he realized, he shouldn’t be at all surprised by now. This was a woman of many wonders.

  “What’s wrong?” Mara asked, suddenly apprehensive.

  “Nothing.” Her fianc‚ shook his head. “I must say, however, that I am glad you are to be my wife, if only so I will never have to face so formidable a foe as you in battle.”

  Mara laughed. “Quite so, my lord. You will never have to face me over the point of a sword. But know that, should you ever need it, my sword will be at your back.”

  He didn’t know why, but a sudden chill ran down Stephen’s spine and something cold clutched his heart. To lighten the darkness that threatened to settle on his soul, he forced a laugh to his lips, pulled his sword from its sheath, and tossed it hilt first to his lady.

  Mara caught the weapon easily, as if it had no weight at all, and balanced it in her hand. “My arm for you, Lord Baron. And my life.”

  She had meant the comment, and the moment, to be lighthearted, and was dismayed by the expression on Stephen’s face. She lowered the sword, and he took it from her.

  “No,” Stephen murmured as he resheathed his weapon. “Rather, my life for yours, lady. Always and forever, my life for yours.”

  The moment shuddered between them. It was only a moment, seconds, yet it seemed to last a lifetime. Mara felt her heart beat to a rhythm that surely matched Stephen’s own. They were one-she felt it. Knew it.

  And then the instant was done. Over. They were released from its spell.

  Together, as one, Mara and Stephen set off on a faint path through the trees, headed back toward the castle. Trey plodded behind, too tired to chase the squirrels that chittered angrily at him from overhanging branches. The two walked in silence for a while, the only sounds around them the squirrels, the occasional scrape of a branch as they passed, and the crunch of their footsteps on the littered forest floor. From time to time, Mara glanced at the man beside her from the corner of her eye and was filled with the wonder of the remarkable day they had just passed.

  Following their intimate moments in the courtyard, Mara had been overcome with shyness. She could hardly believe she had just told Stephen he must never apologize to her. She was not even sure why she had said it. Nor had she been prepared for the impact of his response.

  “You are right,” he’d said, softly but firmly. “I should not have to apologize to the woman who will ride at my side for the remainder of our l
ives. For I shall never do anything to harm you, anything to require apology.”

  Mara had felt scalding tears rush to her eyes. When she had dared to look up at him at last, she noticed that Stephen’s eyes glistened as well. They’d held each other’s gaze for a long, lingering moment, and she could not help feeling a pact had been made. A bond had been forged. He was her lord; she was his lady. He would keep her unto him, safe, for always.

  It was Trey who had brought the moment to its inevitable end. He caught sight of a butterfly and began pursuit. He had leapt straight at Mara and Stephen, eyes upward on the fluttering insect.

  Jack shouted in the nick of the time, and Stephen grabbed Mara and pulled her to one side. Trey crashed past and ran into the side of the stable. The butterfly flitted over the castle wall and flew away. It was once they had been able to stop laughing that they had decided to come on this ride.

  Mara had changed into a dark blue tunic and leggings, her usual riding costume. With Jack and Trey as chaperones, she and Stephen had set off on a tour of her father’s vast estate.

  Long slow lopes across green fields and meadows had been interspersed with quiet walks past the grazing livestock, and around great stands of trees planted as windbreaks. They had talked companionably for hours, about horses, dogs, hawking, and hunting. She told Stephen of her childhood, how she had learned to ride a pony before she could even walk, and how she had wielded a wooden sword from its broad little back. The pony had been her destrier, and she was a knight, brave and true. She even admitted to Stephen her great and eternal disappointment in having been born a female.

  “And now?” he had gently inquired, looking down into her eyes.

  “Now I bless the kindly Fates that made me what I am and led me to where I stand at this instant in time,” she had whispered. And she had meant it. For the very first time in her life, she thanked God He had not made her the man she had so often wished.

  Stephen, too, had shared his past, his boyhood. He had confessed his loneliness, despite so many male companions, his longing for the mother he had never known. He’d told her of the love he bore his father and the grief he had suffered at the man’s passing.

  Eventually, it seemed they had known each other all their lives. Mara even told Stephen of her recent encounter with Baldwin.

  He had reined his horse to a halt, expression dark. “I like this not,” he said tersely. “The Earl of Cumbria is a dangerous man.”

  “I agree. But my father does not think he will make a move against us. Ullswater is impregnable, my father’s strength renowned, and King Henry’s laws strict.”

  Stephen had nodded slowly, hesitantly. “But our good Henry has his hands full with Simon de Montfort. Surely you know this.”

  “I know Montfort has become the leader of the king’s opposition. But the barons are not behind him. What strength has Montfort without them?”

  “The arm and will of the people,” Stephen replied. “There may yet be civil war. Distracted, Henry may not keep a stern eye on his barons.”

  Mara had smiled, unwilling to think of Baldwin any longer on such a beautiful, perfect day-the most momentous, perhaps, of her life. “Trust that my father will keep me safe. Trust also that Baldwin is too great a coward to make good any threats, king’s justice or no,” she had finished dismissively.

  Stephen had reluctantly fallen in beside Mara, and she’d urged her mare into a jog. Moments later, she had remarked on the heat of the day and the race ensued. Now Mara wished only for the lightness of their mood, and the peaceful beauty of the day, to continue.

  She looked over at Stephen, who walked at her side in the dappled shade of the forest, hands clasped behind him. “So, did I acquit myself?” she asked lightly.

  “Acquit yourself?” Stephen stopped, a puzzled expression creasing his face.

  “You know, riding.”

  His slow smile blossomed into a grin. “Let me only say this, my lady: I am simply glad that it is as you say, I will never have to cross swords with you but have you at my back instead.”

  Mara laughed, and the sound washed over him like the warm and welcome mist of summer rain.

  They resumed their walk beneath the leafy canopy, and Stephen caught himself wondering anew at Mara’s beauty. Pale yellow beams of daylight pierced the densely woven branches above and fell upon her hair, paler as it was than daffodils. He stopped and shook his head with amazement.

  “Is anything wrong, Stephen?”

  “On the contrary. Everything is right. So right it almost scares me.”

  “Yes, I know,” she replied softly. “But I also know, for a certainty, that nothing will ever scare me again.” She looked away from Stephen for a moment, but when she returned her gaze to him, Mara’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Nothing will frighten me anymore, that is, except running into a naked man by the side of the lake.”

  “I did frighten you then,” Stephen exclaimed, dismayed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I-”

  “No, no-you didn’t frighten me at all,” Mara interrupted, eyes still alight. “You startled me. You can surely understand why. But even as I ran, my only fear was that I would never lay eyes on you again.”

  Once again her forthrightness rocked him. Here was no coy, demure maid who would hide the secrets of her heart. There was no guile in her. In truth, he felt the secrets of Mara’s heart, her very soul, already lay open to him. It was a trust he cherished, and he returned the gift.

  “It was as you say for myself also,” Stephen admitted. “When you ran, I thought I would never see you again. Not knowing it was you who awaited me, I no longer wished to ride to Ullswater to meet my bride. I knew I should forever find her wanting, for no woman might ever match you.”

  Mara had meant for the mood to remain light, but once again these sincere admissions were stunning. What had she done in her life, she wondered, to deserve such a man, such a mate as this?

  Not wanting him to see the tears that blurred her vision, Mara turned and continued along the forest path. Stephen fell into step beside her.

  They walked in silence for a time. Trey, recovered, trotted behind them, bounding away occasionally to pursue a squirrel. Jack had followed and trailed at a distance, leading their mounts, his footsteps nearly soundless in the forest’s moldering, leafy carpet. The woodland peace fell upon them all.

  Mara luxuriated in another glance at the man beside her. The dappled shadows softened the hard planes of his face. Light and dark, light and dark, sunlight and shadow moved over him as they walked. The fitful breeze lifted his blue-black hair from his mail-clad shoulders. Mara watched and marveled, fascinated by the tilt of his head as he bent to avoid a branch, the reach of his hand to pull another from her path.

  Feeling her gaze at last, Stephen smiled. Mara’s lips curved in response.

  “Tell me something,” he asked abruptly, “did you really mean it?”

  “I always mean what I say. At least when I say it. There’s always the chance I’ll change my mind later.”

  Stephen’s lips twitched in amusement. Everything she said enchanted him. “So you mean you might change your mind about hawking. You said you loved hawking.”

  “I love many things.” She laughed. “But I don’t think I’ll change my mind about hawking. I enjoy it more than most pastimes.”

  “Such as embroidery?”

  “Especially embroidery!”

  Stephen laughed, too. Mara saw his teeth were very white and even. “So you will not be content to sit in your bower and await my return from the hunt?” he teased.

  “No, I will not. I’ll return to my father at once. Unless, of course, you take me hunting with you.”

  Stephen bowed with mock courtliness. “As my lady desires.”

  “And I do so desire.”

  They looked long at one another, wondering at the kindly fate that had brought them together.

  “All this talk of hunting and hawking,” Mara said at length. “Did I tell you I can also throw a dag
ger with accuracy, wield a broadsword as you have already seen, and handle a crossbow?”

  Stephen chuckled again. “As I’ve said before, thank heaven I will be your ally, not your enemy.”

  How she loved the sound of his amusement. Golden lights shone in his dark eyes, and she found herself longing to touch the crinkles at the corners that appeared when he smiled.

  A jay scolded suddenly from the branches above, and Trey barked loudly. The spell was shattered, and Mara felt in its place an odd unease.

  Perhaps it was because the sunlight barely touched the tops of the trees any longer. In minutes it would be gone beyond the distant hills. The breeze had turned chill.

  Something was wrong. Stephen sensed it, would have known even had he not seen the barely perceptible narrowing of Mara’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Mara?”

  She shook her head, not because she did not wish to tell him, but because she did not know. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe I only fear this day’s end. And our. Separation on the morrow.”

  “I’ll not be gone long, Mara. I swear it. If there were not things I must do in order for us to wed, I would not go at all. You know that.” Then another thought occurred to him, and his brow furrowed. “Or is it Baldwin who does, indeed, concern you? If it is, believe me, I will-”

  “No, no. Baldwin doesn’t frighten me. I’ve told you.”

  Mara appeared as confident as before, but Stephen was not so certain. The earl was a vindictive man. He would neither forgive nor forget his humiliation at this young woman’s hands. And, as he had warned, the king had his eye elsewhere.

  Their separation would not be long, however, as he had promised. In the meantime, Ranulf had assured him he would be at his most vigilant. The mighty gates would be locked, the walls manned night and day. Preparations that had not been seen in a long time were already under way at Ullswater castle.

  Seeing the lines of worry form on Stephen’s smooth, high brow, Mara found herself longing to reach out and touch him, to soothe away his trouble. But she feared the intimacy of the touch, was afraid her hand might linger, trace the curve of his cheekbones, the lines that parenthesized his mouth. That mouth smiled at her now.