Badge of Honor - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 10)

by Shea,Lisa

  He finished unlacing and offered the soft leather to Catherine. She hesitated for a moment, then took it between her teeth. Jack gripped both of her hands in his own and then turned to nod to Peter. “Go ahead,” he prompted. “Let us get this over with.”

  The pain was searing, even worse than it had been before. Catherine closed her eyes tightly against it, biting down on the soft leather and squeezing Jack’s hands. The pain seemed to go on forever, coming in waves that threatened to overwhelm her. Jack’s steady voice gave an anchor for her to cling to. After what seemed to be hours, Peter was done and wrapped the bandages against the wound. Catherine finally opened her eyes to find Jack watching her, and she smiled faintly into his concern.

  Jack extricated his right hand from her grasp and gently brushed the hair away from her face. “Surely there was an easier way to do this,” he commented, half in jest.

  “You know there was not,” she responded quietly, caught in his stare. “I was willing to risk everything to see this through.”

  Jack lowered his head to bury his face against her shoulder, holding her gently for a few full minutes. After a while he lifted her easily, carrying her over to a spot by the fire in a mossy bank. “I think we will be calling it a day,” he suggested as he laid her down. “There is no need to get going until tomorrow. You have been told to give that shoulder a rest many times now. Maybe this time you will actually listen.”

  Catherine did not have the will to argue; her energy was completely drained. It was hard to even keep her eyes open. The moment Jack laid her on the ground, she rolled onto her left side and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 16

  Catherine woke suddenly in moonlit darkness, startled out of a dream. She found her hand still entwined with Jack’s, his sleeping face only a short distance from her own. He looked so peaceful in rest, his brow no longer furrowed with worry. She reached forward with her free hand to gently trace the side of his face.

  He awoke with a start, his own hand coming down on top of hers automatically in a trapping motion. He relaxed when he saw her face, realized who had roused him.

  Catherine flushed. “I am sorry,” she offered softly. “You need to get your rest.”

  Jack hushed her with a smile. “There is time enough later to rest,” he reassured her in a low voice, his eyes held on hers. “I do not wish to lose a minute with you.”

  Catherine searched his eyes, melting as she realized that they held not anger or distance, but caring and love. She gripped his hand with her own, overwhelmed that after everything he could still care for her so much. A single tear escaped from her eye and slowly trailed its way down her cheek.

  Jack let out a soft oath as if his resolve had finally been pushed to the breaking point. He leant forward and pressed his lips to her, giving her a gentle kiss.

  Catherine closed her eyes, bringing her injured right arm carefully on top of him, pressing his body close to hers. His hard muscles stretched against the full length of her form, reassuringly strong and stable. She lost herself in the kiss, surrendering herself to him.

  Her breath coming in deep, ragged gulps when at last they parted. She could see by his eyes that he was awash in the same powerful emotion.

  Jack chuckled softly to himself, his eyes ablaze with passion. “To think I was jealous of Shadow,” he murmured huskily, tracing her face with his fingers. “When I thought that you had run off to him ...”

  Catherine took another look at his face, the torment in his eyes, and drew him down into a passionate kiss, yielding everything to him.

  When they finally separated, she lay back, gazing into his eyes for a long time. Eventually exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  When Catherine awoke the next morning, the camp was already up and active. Jack was at the fire, helping to serve the elderly priest. Catherine kept her eyes closed for a while, sorting through her thoughts.

  While Jack had shown his care for her, she had no doubt that he also had many questions about what she had done as Shadow, and the fate of his friends. She would need to find a way to address his concerns while also shielding the identity of the others involved. She was sure that it would not take long for the topic to come up in conversation; she simply had to make sure she took care in how she directed the discussion.

  She unfolded herself from her cloak; immediately all eyes turned to her. Jack and Peter quickly came over to help her move to the side of the fire.

  Catherine took care to keep her injured arm immobile. “I am fine, I am not an invalid,” she protested. She glanced up at Peter. “If you recall, I had far worse injuries only a few weeks ago. If it is only my arm that is bothering me now, I am ahead in the game.”

  Peter shook his head, his eyes twinkling. He scooped out a bowl of stew and handed it to her. “Yes, and I spent quite a bit of time patching you up that time. A lot of good it did me, with you completely ignoring my instructions to let the arm heal.”

  Catherine huffed, although her lips curved up into a smile. “I did! I went weeks without much physical activity. How long do you think I could last? It was sheer torture ...”

  Michael, John, and Walter were watching her with wide eyes, sipping mulled wine from short pewter cups.

  John was the first to speak up. “So you did receive those wounds while fighting Carl and Craig?” His voice held awe. “How could they have touched you, when you fought so well against Jack?”

  Catherine winced; while she had expected the topic to come up soon, surely she could have gone more than five minutes without being drawn into this!

  Peter quickly spoke up, turning to fix John with a steady look. “I do not think that is an appropriate -”

  Catherine made herself smile and waved Peter off. “No, that is fine,” she soothed placatingly. “They want to hear and will be on pins and needles until I divulge some details. Let us just get this out in the open.”

  She kept her eyes fixed on the trio, but she was acutely aware of Jack sitting to one side of her. She knew that of all the people here, it was to him that her message would be going.

  She leant back against the rock near her, took a bite of stew, and thought for a moment. Maybe if she handled this well she could buy herself some time on the more difficult discussion with him.

  “There were three main reasons that I was injured so heavily when I fought those two men,” she stated, looking at each of the three teens in turn. “As we continue our journey, when you name for me those reasons, I will explain how they affected the fight. That will give you something to think about, and keep me from having to talk non-stop for the next two days. So, what would the first reason be?”

  John leapt at the idea immediately. “They were stronger than you!” he cried out, apparently thrilled that he could finally use his personal excuse in a discussion. Michael and Walter rolled their eyes, but looked to Catherine to see what she would say.

  Catherine nodded slowly in agreement. “Yes, that is true,” she conceded, taking bites of her breakfast as she spoke. “They were taller; they had a longer reach. They had more strength and more physical mass. I was quicker than they were, but if they anticipated my blow and got their sword in the way of it, there was no way I could ‘power through’ them. They could block just as if I had swung at a stone wall.”

  She nibbled on her muffin. “Conversely, if they swung at me, my only hope was to deflect the blow. I could not simply stop it. If I tried, they would plow through my block and land against me. Perhaps not with the edge of the sword, but with its pounding force which could be just as harmful.”

  Michael’s voice was thoughtful. “That was not an issue with Jack,” he mused.

  Catherine nodded again. “You are correct, because we were deliberately fighting to touch only. Neither of us could use strength without risking harming the other. We could only use gentle touches. Therefore my quickness had an advantage over his strength. He could block me, but if I was quick, I could get in an
yway. I could block him, because he was not using his full strength against me.”

  Her mind went back over the fight of the previous day. “Remember near the end of the fight, when I directly aimed swings at his sword?” The three young men nodded in unison. “Those blows were coming down with my full force. Every ounce of my strength was behind those blows - but I knew there was no danger of Jack actually being hurt. He felt the impact, certainly, but the blows would never have gotten through his blocks, despite me using the full power in my body. There would simply be no way for me to muscle through a solid block of Jack’s. He is too strong.”

  Walter’s voice was petulant. “So what was all of the story you gave us about us having an advantage?”

  Catherine smiled. “Remember, the whole point of my talks with you was that you were to appear defenseless and weak. You were to elicit a certain feeling in your opponent’s mind, so that he reacted to you in that manner. However, when I faced Jack, what did I do?”

  Walter brightened. “He thought you were a skilled warrior!” he shouted, understanding spreading over his face.

  “Exactly,” replied Catherine. “I wanted the confrontation to happen. He would not respect me if he felt I was weak; his honor would not allow it. So I presented myself as strong and capable; a threat. He therefore treated me as such.”

  Walter’s eyes clouded with confusion. “Why did you want to face Jack?” he asked, looking over to where Jack sat behind Catherine.

  Catherine didn’t answer; she looked down to her stew to finish off the last bites. Jack glanced at her, then quietly spoke up. “Because I wanted to fight Shadow,” he responded, his voice thoughtful. “It was something that needed to be resolved, so she presented herself to resolve it.”

  Catherine couldn’t help herself; she turned and looked back at Jack, catching his gaze. The question died on her lips. She could not bring herself to ask it, in case the answer was not what she was hoping for.

  Jack looked into her eyes for a moment, then nodded, a knowing smile touching the corners of his lips. “Aye,” he murmured softly, his voice pitched for her alone. “It is resolved.”

  * * *

  Catherine rode in the wagon for the morning, stretching out against a comfortable mound of heavy blankets. The sun drifted in golden streaks through the gentle spring breezes. The boys kept up a happy chatter with her, discussing block techniques and arm-length issues. Peter and Jack stayed close behind, adding in commentary and enjoying the travel.

  Catherine glanced up at Jack, a warm smile passing between the two. She was more relaxed than she had in many months. Even her shoulder seemed to throb less painfully as they moved at a slow pace along the well-maintained road.

  Lunch and dinner passed with leisurely conversation, and soon Catherine found herself on night watch with Jack by her side. She had worried that he would press her about Shadow, but instead he sat in a comfortable silence, simply being there with her.

  After a while had passed, Jack looked over at Catherine. A tightness settled across her shoulders, but he gave her a reassuring smile. He took her hand in his own, turned it over and tenderly pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, holding the kiss for a long while. Catherine’s tension melted away like remnants of snow on a sun drenched meadow.

  Finally Jack looked up and put his other hand in the neck of his tunic, withdrawing the pendant that hung there. It was the granite snowdrop. Catherine traced its shape, then looked up into his eyes. He nodded slowly.

  “Catherine, I trust that your reasons were ethical and sound. I do not need to hear anything more. I understand if, for whatever reason, you must remain silent. I believe completely in you, and in your honor.”

  A wave of relief washed through Catherine’s soul, cleansing out the remaining shadows, leaving a radiant glow coursing through her.

  Her eyes returned to the elegantly carved snowdrop, to all that it signified. She remembered with vivid clarity the day she had given it to him, Her mind followed to how she had been forced to push him away, and how he had asked …

  Her eyes moved up to hold his, shining with emotion. “You asked me a question, that day in the woods,” she murmured huskily. “One I was not given an opportunity to answer. I will give you that answer now. It was solely my pledge to my council to focus on my betrothal with Lord Epworth which kept me apart from you. If it had not been for that task, I would have encouraged your courtship with all my heart.”

  She held up her hand, showing him the brown ring which she still wore on her finger.

  Jack’s eyes went to the ring, and then he was drawing her into a tender embrace, kissing her, wrapping her in his warmth. She gave herself fully to the kiss, becoming lost in him, holding nothing back.

  It was a long while before she separated from him, her breath coming in deep draws, her body almost glowing.

  A great weight lifted from her shoulders. She leant against him, resting her head on his broad chest. Jack put his arm around her, and the two sat for many long hours, watching the shadows of clouds drift across the ebony sky.

  * * *

  The three boys were eager and alert when Catherine made her way to breakfast the next morning. Walter barely let her get settled before his voice burst from him.

  “All right, we know they were stronger than you were. That was point one. I think that the second point is that they took you on as a team, just like when Michael, John, and I take on enemies as a team. It can be impossible for you to keep track of both of them at once. Is that right?”

  Catherine nodded, smiling with pleasure. “Very good, Walter!” she praised him. “You are exactly right. It is not just that you are fighting two opponents. If you had two opponents that did not work well together, that could be in your benefit. However, if you face a team of enemies who are very good at what they do, the problems multiply.”

  She thought back to the fight, to the way the men had moved. “They were like a pair of wolves,” she recalled, her voice lost in the memory. “It was uncanny; they had fought together for so long that it was instinctive to them. They did not have to give any sign at all to each other. One would move, and the other would counter-move. It was spell-binding. I was fascinated by it, even while they pummeled me.”

  She shook her head to dispel the memory. “In any case, there are three of you,” she pointed out to the eager listeners, “which means you have it even easier when you face an enemy. With two, the second person has to be right behind you to be out of sight. With three of you, it is nearly impossible to keep track of what you all are doing. I will show you some more tricks today that should help you really take advantage of that.”

  The day went by quickly with Catherine, Jack, and Peter taking turns working with the lads as they walked, giving advice and suggestions. The conversations carried on through dinner and it was a while before the three lads settled down into their bedding for the night.

  Catherine smiled as their voices continued in a low murmur from the mounds of blankets, then moved to sit beside Jack on a weathered log by the fire. The night sky was brilliant with stars, and her eyes automatically tracked to find Cancer, its quiet shape almost lost in the multitudes.

  Her mind was sent back to those nights of torment, thirteen years ago, when she stared in desperation at the shelled constellation, wishing she had her own protective armor to defend herself from her captors.

  Her hand moved to her left shoulder, to the brand, and she reminded herself that at long last justice had been done. Her years of training and searching and preparation had, finally, brought some peace to her soul.

  She realized that Jack was gazing at her with steady eyes, and she resisted the urge to look away. He had seen her mark, and he had recognized it. Perhaps he was one of the only people in the world who could understand what she had gone through.

  Her voice was low but steady when she spoke. “Jack, tell me about your parents.”

  Jack smiled faintly, nodding, his eyes moving briefly to her shoulder befo
re beginning. “We moved to our village when I was five or six; I only have wisps of memories of where we lived before then. My father was a leather worker, while my mother was talented with herbal medicine. I had, perhaps, a typical childhood. I spent time with the sheriff, learning swordplay and building my skills.”

  He paused for a moment. “As it so happens, that was where I was on the day of the attack.”

  He looked down at his hands. “I came home late that evening, much later than usual. It was already long past dark. Our house was fully ablaze. I pushed my way through the flaming debris and found them both inside, dead. They had been tortured, then killed. The house had been set afire around their corpses, perhaps to cover the attackers’ tracks.”

  He paused for a long moment, and Catherine could see the pain shadow his eyes. “A madness took over my brain at seeing my parents laying mutilated and slain. I was only in my teens at the time, but I felt sure if I had been home that I could have protected them from harm. I dove into the woods, determined to track down those responsible.”

  He grew quiet, lost in his memories. Catherine waited patiently, allowing him to reveal his story in his own time.

  “I became lost in the forest, roaming for hours. By the time dawn came I knew the attackers were far away; I focused on finding my own way back to the village, to tell others what I had seen. It was then that I came across a campfire with two men tending it. They were craftsmen, and they welcomed me in with surprised pleasure.”

  Catherine nodded slowly. “Carl and Craig,” she stated, her voice cool.

  Jack looked up, meeting her eyes. “Yes.” He took in a deep breath. “I was exhausted and starving. They brought me a blanket and fed me a warm breakfast. They listened with sympathy to my story. I thought I was extremely lucky to have come across their camp. They offered to escort me back to the village, and I readily agreed.

  “We passed through a larger town along the way, and the men had me hide in their wagon for my own safety while they went in to get news. When they came out, they told me that the assassins had been through here, and were letting it be known that they were now hunting me down. The two men advised me to go into hiding - to make a new start somewhere where I would not be known, where I would be safe.”