by Sherry Ewing
“’Tis more like when,” Riorden replied sourly, leaning over the battlement wall. His gaze fled to the outer bailey where he would catch fleeting glimpses of Katherine whilst she ran the perimeter and length of the lists. He knew not how long she had been out there running, but it had been a while. He was impressed at her stamina and continued to watch her hair sway back and forth from the strap she had tied to hold it up in place atop her head.
“Well, wherever they are from, you best make things aright with your lady, Riorden,” Fletcher commented wryly. “From what I have seen, you are not in her favor at the moment.”
“Shut the hell up, Fletcher,” Riorden threatened.
“Just a casual observation,” Fletcher said mockingly.
“Do you not have the garrison to train or better things to do with your time, now that you are Dristan’s captain of the guard?” Riorden huffed annoyingly.
“’Tis good to see you, too, Riorden,” Fletcher laughed with cheerfulness then turned to Dristan. “I’m off, my liege, to see what mayhem I can do to whip those men of yours into better shape, if you’d care to join me. You too, Riorden, if you dare. I cannot think of a better excuse to be closer to your lady than to train in the lists. Mayhap, with a sword in your hand, she’ll see you in a better light than the one in which you currently reside.”
Riorden made a swing at his longtime friend. It fell far short of the target, Fletcher’s nose. Disgusted and thinking he must be getting soft, he watched whilst Dristan waved his captain away. Fletcher’s laughter continued ringing in their ears, amplifying from the narrow parapet walkway.
The man is easily amused at the expense of others, thought Riorden. Perchance he is right, though, and time in the lists is just what I stand in need of.
For Riorden, the past several days had been unbearable, knowing how he had wounded Katherine’s feelings. It had not been his intent, and yet he was unsure how to go about repairing the damage he had done with his foolish ranting. How could he make things aright when she would barely speak but two words to him?
Their arrival at Berwyck had been with mixed feelings, knowing their time alone together would be limited. Still…he had to smile as he remembered the look on her face when they had arrived in Berwyck’s lists.
Dristan had been training, which was hardly surprising, with someone of smaller stature. He remembered Katherine reaching out to clutch his forearm, fearing for the smaller warrior’s life, which had been evident by the gasps coming from her each time their swords had met. He could still feel his amusement at Katherine’s reaction, when female laughter had bubbled forth from Dristan’s adversary, and the helmet had been quickly whipped off to reveal Amiria’s face.
Katherine could not have been more impressed than to find a woman had been beneath the armored helm. She had stood there with her mouth hanging open until she had finally voiced a very loud “wow”, whatever that future word of hers meant. She then had let out a very loud “Brava” and had begun clapping her hands enthusiastically for the performance she had just witnessed. Considering that Amiria must have practically just given birth, he too, had been impressed.
“What is it she wears on her face?” Dristan questioned, breaking the silence between them.
“She calls them ‘sunglasses’.”
“And their purpose?”
Riorden shrugged. “Something about protecting her vision from the rays of the sun.”
Dristan raised his hand to shield his own eyes as he peered at the bright yellow orb residing high in the afternoon sky. Returning his attention to the lists, he gripped his chin in thought. “I did not know the sun could be so dangerous. What of her strange footwear?”
“She calls them ‘tennis shoes’. She said they were made for running, and she would wear them if she saw fit to do so. The boots I provided her, apparently, hurt her feet too much.”
“She should not be donning such strange gear. It calls attention to herself.”
Riorden gave a small laugh of annoyance. “Believe me, I tried to tell her,” he said angrily. “She merely flipped her middle finger up at me.”
Dristan laughed uproariously. “She told you to sod off?” he finally managed to say, showing a flicker of appreciation in his eyes for Riorden’s lady.
“I am glad to see you are as amused as she was,” Riorden said irritably. “She saw my expression and told me in no uncertain terms she was glad to see…what did she call it? Oh, aye…that ‘flipping the bird’ meant the same thing eight hundred years in the past.”
“You have found yourself a cheeky wench there, Riorden. If I were you, I would do everything in my power to keep her happily by my side.”
“Ha! You do not know the half of it, Dristan,” Riorden muttered, raking his hand through his hair. “I have come to the realization that not only is she compassionate, beautiful, and a seductress at heart, but when provoked, she is a bit of a spitfire, much like your own dear wife.
Dristan laughed again and slapped his friend heartily on the back. “I know I have told you this many times afore, but just remember, you shall never be bored with her, nor shall you ever regret taking her to wife.”
“God help me.”
“I believe he already has, Riorden,” Dristan proclaimed seriously. “Your story is a hard one to believe, and yet the proof Lady Katherine is not of this time is clearly evident. We will meet in my solar later this eve so she can show us her future marvels. Do you think she will mind?”
“Nay. She will surely know you shall be discrete with the knowledge she shares with you.”
Dristan clapped his hands together in delight. “Then come, and let us take Fletcher up on his invitation. It has been some time since I have taken you both on simultaneously. Mayhap, I shall even engage the Irishman you brought along to test his worth.”
“God’s Wound’s, Dristan. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why you have welcomed him into your home as you have.”
“The ladies pleaded his cause well enough that I felt Cavanaugh is a knight of honor and as such should be treated well rather than as a prisoner,” Dristan answered.
“You may regret such an unwise decision if the king were to learn of such a treasonous act,” Riorden said.
“You have that aright, but I still stand by my vow that he is welcome here. Now, let us away to the lists. I have the need to how my knights are doing with their training under Fletcher’s watch.”
Riorden groaned at the prospect of what lay ahead for the afternoon. But then, a devilish smile played upon his face as he thought of how to at last get his lovely lady’s attention. With that thought in mind, he began whistling a merry tune, took off his tunic, and made his way happily down to the lists.
* * *
One step, two steps, three steps. Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t think. Just look straight ahead. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Another lap down, so let’s do it again. Lungs are burning, calf muscles are tight from the strain of my run. Now I’ve gone and done it, for all I can focus on is his mouth-watering, rigid, glorious muscles; the tight, washboard-like rippling of his stomach; the feel of his hot skin beneath my fingertips reaching ever lower; the sweetness of his kiss as our tongues dance together in unison. Ugh! Stop it Katherine! Don’t think about that stubborn, idiotic man! Just keep running. One step, two steps, three steps. Breathe in, breathe out…
Katherine continued, ever onward, in her pursuit to free her mind of anything to do with Riorden. She kept her conversation going inside her head, repeating it over and over again. It was either that, or she’d be madder than a hornet. She had been so ticked off when Riorden had forbidden her to go for a run outside the castle walls. Was this how her life was going to be? Forever kept safe and sound behind the walls of a keep, never to feel the taste of freedom again? Well, she supposed that wouldn’t be so bad as long as that arrogant man came to his senses soon. If he didn’t, he’d lose the one person who would love him, unconditionally, for all time. Men!
Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted during her sprint around the lists when the lady of the keep joined her. She nodded to Amiria, who must have sensed Katherine’s need to keep her own council. No words were necessary from the silent look they exchanged. She was glad for it. Her own thoughts were enough company for the time being, and she relished this time to herself where there was nothing to occupy her mind, except the dirt beneath her feet and her own inner demons she was struggling with. It seemed the emotions of her own troublesome past, at least where men were concerned, were also wreaking havoc with her weary mind, much like Riorden’s past coming to bite him in his friggin’ tight ass.
A movement caught her eye, and she tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid looking at the spectacle coming into her line of vision. Merciful heavens and good Lord above, but she would be hard pressed to ignore such a hunk of pure male ruggedness. She tripped slightly over her own two feet, and Amiria quickly reached out her hand to steady her. She’d be so pissed at herself to let him see how he had affected her. Luckily he did not see her falter...or so she thought.
He caught her gaze, flexed his bulging muscular arms, and grinned at her with an overconfident smile. One look across the lists into his startling vivid blue eyes, and she knew he’d seen her misstep. His smug expression, plastered upon his face, showed his awareness of how he had affected her. He knew exactly what he was doing, coming here without a shirt on, and what it would do to her. From the look he threw her while he began to swing his sword in front of him, he would enjoy every second of her discomfort.
“That damn son of a b−” Katherine’s words were cut off by muffled laughter from Amiria.
“Let us not give in so easily and continue with another lap or two,” Amiria suggested, “elsewise, you will never be able to live with him.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be living with him at all, Lady Amiria.”
“Do you love him?” she asked as they easily picked up their pace.
“With all my heart,” Katherine replied without reservation and realized as she spoke the words aloud that they were, in fact, true.
“Then all will work out as it should,” Amiria predicted. “’Twill not be easy at Warkworth, I assure you, until he dispatches that malicious wench to her dower house. Do not let her get under your skin, Katherine, for she will attempt to make your life miserable ’til he does so. I will not be surprised if she tries to win him back.”
“Is this conversation supposed to make me feel better? Because, if it is, then I hate to tell you this, my lady, but you are failing,” Katherine said with a grimace.
Amiria mumbled an apology. They began to slow down their pace and stopped when they came to the castle well. Amiria let go of the bucket hanging from a long rope, and upon hearing it splash into the water far below, she began to raise it inch by inch. Taking a dipper off a nearby hook, she offered it first to Katherine to drink her fill.
Amiria took Katherine by the arm to a nearby stone bench where they could watch the men train. If she had thought Riorden in the forest was a sight, it was nothing compared to watching Amiria’s husband. He was clearly a master with a sword. He began calling out taunting words until he engaged both Riorden and the man she’d met, called Fletcher, at the same time. It was a very impressive sight, along with being quite overwhelming. There was a lot that could be said for such handsome medieval men with swords in their hands, enjoying their work out.
She felt Lady Amiria give her arm a gentle pat. Turning towards her, Katherine waited as the lady seemingly struggled to find the right words to say.
“Never doubt… he loves you, Katherine,” she whispered confidently.
“How can you tell?”
“Oh, I have known Riorden de Deveraux for many a year now, so truly, he is not as hard to read as you might think,” Amiria said with a gentle smile. “He has been watching you most intently when you are not looking. I have never seen him look at another as he looks on you.”
“I can’t imagine not having him in my life, now that I’ve found him,” Katherine said sadly.
Amiria gave a sigh of understanding. “Men can be so pig headed sometimes, but they generally come around. Riorden will need your patience, Katherine, when he reaches Warkworth, and all your love. ’Tis not only the woman he thought he’d cared for he must deal with, but also the memory and ghost of his father. They did not part on good terms when Riorden left. Personally, I think, he regrets his harsh words he can never recant, now that his sire his gone.”
“Warkworth is haunted?”
Amiria smiled again at Katherine’s words. “Would that be so surprising, given that you yourself have come through time to be with the one you dreamed of all your life?”
“I suppose not, my lady.”
“Call me Amiria, since we will be like family,” she stated casually, squeezing Katherine’s hand again. “’Tis a beautiful name, by the way.”
“Excuse me, my lady?”
“Your name…Katherine. ’Tis a beautiful name. ’Twas my mother’s, as well, which is why I felt a certain kinship with you when we first met.”
They each became lost in thought, and Katherine, in particular, couldn’t for the life of her take her eyes from Riorden’s body as he trained. She sighed heavily.
Amiria finally broke through their silence as the first hint of a coming storm announced itself with the sound of distant thunder. “Trust him, Katherine, for he will never fail you.”
“Never?” she whispered in awe.
“Nay, never,” Amiria said confidently. “Normally, I would tell you Riorden will love you ’til his last dying breath, but in your case, my dear, I believe ’twill be more like until the end of time itself. We are truly lucky women, Katherine, since I also know how it feels to be so very blessed.”
Amiria rose and left Katherine to her own troubled thoughts. The woman’s words tumbled in her mind for the remainder of the afternoon. To have him love me until his last, dying breath and until the end of time…how could I ask or want for anything more of him than that?
Chapter 26
Torches lit the Great Hall, giving the room a hazy appearance whilst the castle inhabitants sat and ate their fill. The room was abuzz with lighthearted conversations and boisterous activity as the evening meal arrived at the already heavily laden tables. The smell of mouthwatering roasted venison and boar permeated the air, causing hungry knights to reach out eagerly for the succulent meat and fill the trenchers afore them. They cared not that their fingers burned whilst they tore at the tender meat, nor when the juices ran down their chins. They consumed the bounty of the meal with gusto, behaving as if they had not eaten in days.
A heady red wine was poured at the raised dais for those with a taste of something finer than the everyday drink of mead to accompany their food. Cool ale flowed from a keg that had been brought up from the cellars whilst serving maids skirted around outstretched hands of lusty knights looking for more than what would be poured into their tankards. Laughter abounded for those women who eagerly accepted the attention of their most favored knight with a promise of an evening of pleasure ahead of them. Occasional thunder, along with the raucous laughter, mixed with the sounds of musical chords as the castle’s minstrels began to tune their instruments, plucking the strings of their lutes.
Occasionally, a bolt of lightning illuminated the room from the windows above, casting the occupants of the hall momentarily into a surreal display of eerie, flickering movements. ’Twas clear the storm outside was heightening in strength, if the sound of the howling wind and pelting rain was any indication of nature’s turbulent fury.
Riorden drummed his fingers on the wooden table whilst his mood remained somber. He was not pleased he had been denied the pleasure of being seated next to Katherine at the high table. She was currently preoccupied in conversation with none other than Dristan and Lynet. Her bubbly laughter rang out, further irritating him, since he was unable to enjoy her company.
In truth, there was nothing out of the
ordinary at his place of honor next to Dristan’s wife and Aiden. Amiria chatted on amicably whilst she continually encouraged him to taste the food set afore the trencher they shared. Thus far, the only thing he had been able to swallow was the wine. Everything else might as well have been made of dirt, for it held no appeal.
His eyes darted to those who were noisily sliding tables out of the way so the dancing could begin. Even the sound of the wood as it scraped across the stone floor grated on his already stretched nerves. ’Twas not hard to notice Fletcher making his way to their table with a determined stride. Riorden shot a warning to the man, who blatantly ignored it with a loud, amused chuckle. When Fletcher made his formal bow to Katherine and extended his hand, Riorden about jumped out of his chair to protest until he felt a reassuring hand on his arm.
“He only bates you, Riorden,” Amiria said softly. “If you do not wish for others to dance with Katherine, then I suggest you dance with her yourself.”
“I am out of favor with the lady,” Riorden muttered, under his breath.
“Only you can change that, old man,” Aiden goaded with a knowing smirk and went back to his meal.
Riorden watched as Katherine rose with a warm smile, dropped into a curtsey, and quickly scooted around the table to take Fletcher’s arm.
She glanced back over her shoulder at Riorden. Their eyes met and held. The space between them seemingly lessened by the intensity rushing between them. His thoughts shattered into a thousand pieces whilst his heart began to beat furiously with just one look from her. Was it only his imagination, or did she feel it too…those invisible ties branding their souls together as one? Did it appear as if her eyes were silently begging for him to rise and take Fletcher’s place at her side, or was it just the lightning playing cruel tricks with his mind?
Riorden had just put his hands on the arms of his chair to rise and join her, when he saw her blink. The moment they had been sharing, however brief, rapidly disappeared, as if it had never occurred. Her face instantly showed her disappointment in him, as if he refused to feel the constant connection that pulled them together. She tore her gaze from him and searched out her lady friend.