She had definitely become more emotionally withdrawn from him since his more virulent insults had started. At first he had restrained himself, but as they continued to struggle, the insults started to come. And once they started, it was impossible for him to stem the flow. They were instantly on his tongue before he even thought about it.
He sighed his cares to the darkening sky. He felt it was an allegory of his life: once bright and hopeful and now darkening on every front. This was not what he was meant for. He was once a great warrior, a proud warrior; but when all that ended, he returned to Dawning Court for nothing. Now if he fought in the skirmishes that developed from rival barons or peasant uprisings, he did it for nothing. There was nothing in it for him except the fulfilling of his duty. It did not enrich him in any manner; in fact, all he could do was lose. If he was injured or killed, this is all that he would ever get out of this life. He would never be great, only forgotten, just as the darkening sky would be forgotten at the next sunrise.
Things definitely seemed darker since John’s proposal weeks before. Thomas was finding fault with every aspect of his life. Nothing satisfied him any longer. Perhaps John was right, that was a way out. But Thomas would have to risk everything he had for such a venture, and he would still be answerable to his good-for-nothing eldest brother; and this if the Saracens did not betray him, which they almost certainly would, as John was not strong enough to keep control over them.
He understood why John was making such a choice: he had nothing to lose–no land, no wealth, no honor or status. If he were rebuffed, what could be stripped from him that he had not already stripped from himself? And if he were killed? Well, at least it would spare him the life of degradation he seemed destined to lead. But Thomas was different. He only needed the chance to be great. If he just had the opportunity, he would be baron. His wife would be dressed in the finest silks, and she would be honored to be his wife. She would boast of her husband to other women who were already envious of her. Though he still may not respect her, he would not feel trapped with her alone as he did now; he would know many beautiful women, and they would fight for his favor. He would have many concubines, but he would have one special one—one concubine who eventually would come to relish her place as his favorite, to jealously guard his affections. Leah would be his. He would control her, own her.
Thomas snapped himself out of his daydream, surprised at how far he had let his thoughts wander out of the bounds of propriety. He had often been badgered by such thoughts in his life, but since John’s proposition, he found that he was dwelling on them with increasing frequency, and they were often darker than he had ever intended. What had started out as wholesome fancies about being a beloved baron with a blissful family had become something else entirely.
He stretched and stood as the last rays of daylight were sliced by the horizon. He had to accept that the answers to his problems were not simply going to glide in over the horizon. Or were they?
It was dark enough now that the silhouette coming toward him down the road was elusive. He was not sure for some moments if it was real or imagined. He waited upon the visitor as this road only led to his estate. There was nowhere else a loan traveler could be intended for. He half seated himself on the fence that was just too high to be a proper seat, folded his arms over his belly, and waited.
The robed figure walked directly up to him without hesitation. The hood was drawn over the face, but it did not take long for Thomas to realize who it was.
He was instantly nervous, and his first instinct was to step back and be on guard, but his pride would allow him to do nothing of the sort. Instead he remained motionless, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “And what brings you to my humble abode?” he asked, again assuming his formal language but not trying to be overly polite, expecting that she hated him and had only evil designs on his person.
“I have come for you, Thomas,” Anisa said, drawing back the hood from her beautiful features.
“And what could you possibly want here?”
“John tells me he has presented a proposition to assist him in regaining the barony that is rightfully his.” Her hands went to the ties keeping the front of her robe closed and began working on them. Her shapely figure was not easy to make out under the robe.
“Perhaps,” Thomas said, trying to be mysterious. “My brother and I speak of many things. What is that to you?”
“Why did you reject your brother’s proposition? Do you not feel he is entitled to make such a claim?”
“My reasons,” Thomas said, puffing up before her, “are my own.”
“Perhaps you believe it to be so,” she said smiling slyly. “But I believe you betray more than you realize.”
“What manner of woman are you to say such things?”
“You harbor a notion that you would be a more fitting leader than Sir John.” It was not a question. “He is too weak, and we are simply using him.”
Thomas shrugged off his surprise. “I suppose that is true.”
“Thomas, you may well be correct.”
“What is this?” he demanded. “Did you come here to convince me to betray my own brother?”
“John is the rightful heir to the seat. He must be allowed to reclaim it. But should he fail, who will take his place?” Thomas did not respond. “I will grant that we Saracens need advocates in power here in Europe.” She stepped closer to him. Thomas would have withdrawn, but he was backed up to the fence. “The mighty arm of the English knights,” she said, sliding one finger down Thomas’ large arm, “is destroying us. And we would be willing to take whatever advocate might be available to us.”
Thomas was electrified by the proximity of this beautiful woman making such bold advances. He did not dare allow himself to speak for fear of betraying himself. Instead he tried to look stoically unmoved by her overtures. “We would prefer John, as he is the rightful heir and there are fewer grounds for challenging his suit. But he is not as strong as you are. And if he cannot take his place…” she left it hanging.
Thomas was floored. “Come to the point, woman!”
“Would you not make a stronger leader than John? Do I err in this?” She arched her eyebrows at him.
Thomas shrugged but could not bring himself to contradict her. “I suppose, but John’s strong will is not his defining characteristic.”
“Nor are his wise decisions.”
“The fact that he is in league with you is proof enough of that,” Thomas said loftily.
“But you are not subject to the same weaknesses,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“My decisions are more reasoned than his, to be sure,” Thomas nodded.
“Your brother,” she said, stepping back a pace, “is a man of great passions. Perhaps you share in his appreciation of many of the finer things.”
Thomas considered her, unsure of what she was leading up to.
“What higher compliment is there to a warrior king than a beautiful woman?” Thomas' glib reply died on his lips when Anisa released her now unfastened robe and let it fall open, revealing a form-fitting silken gown that highlighted all the virtues that nature had bestowed upon her. Thomas’s voice caught in his throat. She was indeed very beautiful, and his eyes were riveted on her form. He tried to look elsewhere but could not seem to wrench his eyes from her. A slight smirk played across her face that went unnoticed by Thomas, who was not looking at her face. “I believe we understand each other,” she said and let his gaze remain a moment longer as she slowly refastened the clasps of her robe. “You have the promise of greater things than you yet know,” she said confidently. “And you will know when your moment for greatness has presented itself. I hope you will not let it slip away.”
Thomas stood rooted in place as he watched her disappear the way she had come. The whole experience was surreal enough that Thomas may have doubted himself whether it had actually happened the next day but for the intense need to do something physical. To the now familiar training yard he went
and took his well-worn weapon and his training shield, which carried more weight than usual to prepare his arm for long days of battle, in his now-calloused hands.
He stared at the well-worn pole for a few minutes, thinking of all that had been denied him in his life. A powerful, burning desire was ignited in him, a desire for all those things he had always craved but not had the opportunity to make his own. He was yearning for all the wealth, the women, and the power that had always been denied him. He unleashed on the battered post with a fury that reduced its beaten fibers to splinters. When his moment came, he would be ready.
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
William sat by the fire in the little hostel at which he had stopped for the night. Winter was upon them, and the travelers were few. The conditions slowed his progress as well, but that didn’t matter as he had no specific destination in mind. He had felt very acutely the need to leave his erstwhile home, but he kept replaying the conversation with Leah in his mind. How after all these years did she still know him so intimately? How could she know his fears and misgivings as if he himself had confessed them to her?
He could not imagine a being that he so desired and so feared the consequences of being with than Leah. Sitting alone by the fire, he shook his head. Why was he in this place? Why couldn’t he be back at Dawning Co—home? His home. There was too much risk. Risk to the family, risk to Leah, risk of Braddock. He could not accept that responsibility.
But what was going on with Leah? He had not noticed it in the emotion of the moment, but the more he thought about his mother’s warning and the more he considered their last encounter, he was sure his mother was right. There was more at stake than he realized. Was he really willing to turn his back on the person that meant more to him than anything in the world? Particularly when she was literally begging for his help?
He grumbled and settled deeper into his cloak. He had never even intended to return here in the first place. If he had just stayed away, none of this would be happening. Nobody would be looking to him to solve their problems. He would not be expected to attend anybody’s wedding, nor be blamed if his presence caused problems. “I hate this place,” he grumbled into his chest and settled deeper into his chair.
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
“William, get it!” John shouted at his littlest brother, who was racing toward the ball in the grass as the sun was setting on the courtyard. It had been less than a year since Braden Dawning had died, and John would periodically call the brothers to games like this to help them feel like a family again after all the numbness that accompanied their loss.
“Get the ball!” William zipped in and scooped up the ball from where Richard had just dropped it. He ran a few steps and tossed it to John. Edward dove to block the pass but missed, just tipping it with his fingertips and sending it running wild. William darted after it again.
By now Richard had disentangled himself from Thomas, who had knocked the ball from his hand to begin with. He was racing William for the ball, and he slowed down just enough that his youngest brother could beat him to it. William dove on top of it and rolled to his feet, his natural dexterity already showing itself. Thomas, laughing, grabbed the back of Richard’s tunic, knowing full well that he did not have the ball but pulling him down anyway. Edward jumped on the back of his much heavier younger brother, Thomas, and tried to wrestle him to the ground. Then John arrived at a run and tackled the whole group of them. They all went down in gales of laughter with cries of “foul” and “cheater” being fired into the air to no one in particular, as no one was listening.
William, stopping just short of the goal, realized the fun was no longer happening around the ball and ran back to his brothers and flopped on top of the pile of them. They laughed harder still and wrestled until all that remained of the day were the orange and pink clouds illuminated by the fading light of the sun.
When the moment was past, they all sat side by side, watching the remnants of the sunset. “This was fun,” Thomas said first. “I’m glad we did this.”
“Let’s remember this,” John said. “In the future, though we may bicker and quarrel, let’s remember this moment when we all sat here together as brothers. Whatever differences we may have were set aside, and we were happy now. And though we lost our father, we are the brothers of a noble birthright. As we look into the sun now, so let us look ahead to our lives of prosperity and joy together, for together we can achieve more than we can separately. We are noblemen born to be protectors of our kingdom, our religion, and our people.” John began to speak with confidence as his brothers caught the vision. “Through the grace of the Almighty, there is no way we can fail as six powerful warriors for God; we will protect and forge the destiny of our fair kingdom, and there is none who will be able to withstand the collective will of the Dawnings. We are and always will be the Knights Dawning. Can we all agree to that?”
They all circled around and put their hands in the center to make a pact that right at that moment they could see what was important, and they would never forget it, whatever became of them. They were part of an elite brotherhood that was destined to change the course of history.
The final rays of the sun faded behind the horizon, and they all laughed and joked as they walked back to the castle, conscious that they had just shared a special moment together—a moment that made them closer as brothers and better people in general. Each of them was equally sure things were going to be good from then on.
CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
“Are you quite sure you want to go through with this?” Thomas asked Henry.
“I don’t understand. Why would I not want to go through with it?” There was a slight challenge in Henry’s voice.
“I am just saying that marriage may not be the answer to all your problems. One can always get married, but once it is done, one cannot undo it.”
“And why do you assume that I view it as the answer to all my problems?” This was the first time Henry had seen Thomas since returning. The conversation had started off badly with Henry demanding an accounting of Thomas’ whereabouts and his reason for not accompanying them as promised. Thomas had immediately gone on the offensive and accused Henry of not looking after his responsibilities. He claimed he was with John and did not dare leave him for fear of what he might do in such a dark place as he was then. He insisted that he could have used help that day but no one came, and when he emerged again, he had been forgotten. Now the conversation was strained, each trying not to upset the other while each was looking for reasons to be offended.
“I do not assume that. But I assumed you were not so naïve as to marry for ‘love,’” Thomas shot back. “If it is your natural male urges that are prompting you to follow this course, then you will regret it. I promise you.”
“Is this not the next natural step in my life? I have been a student and a soldier. I have been knighted and even recognized by the king. What is left but to start a family? And wouldn’t Mary make a fine match?”
“All that may be true,” Thomas admitted, “but do you want to get married?”
Henry sighed. “I don’t want to stay like this,” he said. “I don’t want to be trapped in this life that I am powerless to fix, living on regrets and imagined hopes that will never be realized until one day I awake to find that my whole life has passed me by and all that is left for me is the pain of the mistakes I have made and a terrible fear of those I will yet make.”
Thomas placed a gentle hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I understand. But marriage can be the greatest boon to man’s spirits or the heaviest millstone around his neck. I am merely advising caution on the matter.”
“Because your marriage is so great?”
Thomas withdrew his hand. “Because my marriage is so lousy! Who better to warn you against the pitfalls that await you than someone who has fallen into them himself?”
“Annie is no Mary.”
“And Mary is no Annie!” Thomas fired back, then took a breath to calm himself. “I grant you tha
t Annie and I are not happy. There are things about her that I find difficult to abide. But had I married someone else, there would have been other… foibles that I would have to endure. All I am saying is that marriage is the hardest thing you will ever commit to—longer than any crusade and more intense than any smith’s fire. So if you are doing this for any sort of impulse of infatuation, lust, or even pride, you will regret it.” Thomas saw Henry’s mouth tighten into an angry line and quickly ended it. “I am not accusing you of anything. Just promise me this is a calculated decision, not an impulsive one.”
Henry stood. “This is a good match, and I would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity as this.”
“Maybe you are right.”
“Thank you for your advice,” Henry said, though he did not sound the least bit grateful. Who was Thomas to give him marriage advice?
“Anytime, little brother. Anytime,” he said to Henry’s departing back. “Henry, one more thing,” he added quickly. “Will you remember that sometimes it takes dramatic action to break out of the rut of ordinary life? Dramatic action that everyone may not always approve of…” Thomas trailed off, sure that he was not being understood correctly.
“So it does, brother,” Henry smiled, assuming this was Thomas’ approval of his own marriage to Mary.
CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series) Page 49