His thoughts returned to Normandy; the reason why Robert hated him. When Amaury tried to kill Micah, his vow had been to never again let himself be fooled by love or deceived by his dreams. But this time, an inviolable conviction rose within him. Micah made a different vow.
Never again would a man steal those dreams from him.
Micah unleashed the black fury within his soul. He shoved the swords back. The huntsman’s eyes widened in surprise. Micah kicked and caught Robert in the gut, staggering the huntsman again.
With controlled precision, Micah launched a series of combinations which drove Robert backwards. The swords crashed together, ringing through the bailey. Micah surged forward, no longer thinking, allowing his training to control his actions. His weapon arced toward Robert in an overhand cut. Robert blocked the blade, pushing it slightly to Micah’s right. Micah stepped in, cocking his left arm and launching a jab to the huntsman’s nose with his elbow. Bone cracked and blood spattered his face. His head snapped back and he howled in pain. Robert staggered, regained his balance, and lunged.
Micah bellowed and spun, snapping his sword out and around. His blade plowed into Robert’s ribs, destroying chainmail and leather. It caved his chest, smashing bone and driving into his lungs. The huntsman’s scream turned into a chilling gurgle. Micah hauled himself back as the man collapsed then lay still.
Micah stood, trying to suck in his breath. Robert did not move. Weariness washed over him but dread quickly replaced it. “Kate?” he called desperately, returning to her crumpled form. He dropped to his knees beside her. Micah’s heart lurched. The wound did not appear to be mortal. He freed the dagger and tried to slow the bleeding.
“Baron,” Hubert shouted.
Micah glanced up and saw the huntsman running toward him. He slid to his knees beside Kate. “Let me see it.”
Micah moved his hand and Hubert checked the wound then felt the lifebeat in her neck. He sighed in relief. “She’s all right, the wound isn’t that bad.” He drew his dagger, muttering apologies to Kate, and tore a long strip of fabric from her skirt. He quickly bound the wound.
Kate groaned, her eyes fluttering open.
“Easy, my sweet,” Micah said, smiling broadly.
“My shoulder is on fire.”
“I know how you feel.”
She sat up and Micah wrapped his left arm around her, holding her tightly. “What happened?”
“We won, Kate,” he said softly.
“Aye,” Hubert said. “The Scots who remain alive are running. Once their laird died, they lost all stomach for battle.”
Micah sagged, his weakness catching up with him.
“Hubert,” Kate said urgently. “Get him inside, I need to tend to his wounds before he loses any more blood.”
“Aye, lady,” Hubert said and grabbed Micah’s arm. As Micah fought to stand his vision went black.
***
Kate thought her heart would burst in her chest as Hubert hauled Micah into the solar and put him on the bed. The young huntsman helped her settle him and Kate quickly cut away the blood soaked sling and bandages.
Tears blurred her vision. How had he been able to stand with such terrible wounds? This is our home, Kate, I must fight for it.
Micah had survived because he fought for his dreams.
Working carefully, she cleaned his wounds and stitched them closed, grateful Micah remained unconscious. She secured his broken arm, encouraged by the fact that the bone did not need to be reset despite all the fighting Micah had endured.
Finally she finished and sank into a chair absolutely exhausted. Hubert knocked softly on the open door.
“How is he?”
“All right,” she replied. “I’m worried about blood loss and fever.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Kate,” Hubert said with a smile. “We have things well in hand now. John and I have secured the gates and Marjorie is tending the wounded.”
“When Micah wakes up, he will need some laced wine and broth. Marjorie will know what I mean. Have her fix it please.”
“I will, lady. And you need to get some rest too.”
She nodded wearily. Hubert closed the door and Kate crawled into bed beside Micah. Gently her fingers stroked his black hair away from his face. “You are alive,” she whispered. Her anguish at thinking him dead remained emblazoned on her heart. She squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face against his neck, feeling his pulse beating steadily. Relief and exhaustion battered her and she quickly fell asleep.
***
Micah groaned and brought Kate bolting awake. She blinked the sleep from her vision and stared down at him. He groaned again and stirred.
“Easy,” she whispered, caressing his face. “Try not to move too much.”
His eyes fluttered open and he gazed at her in confusion. “What…where…?”
“It’s all right,” she said and smiled at him. “I mended your arm but you need to take it easy.” She glanced at the table and noticed Marjorie had left a cup and a bowl. “Can you sit up a little more?”
Micah did so with her help, cringing in pain. “God’s teeth,” he muttered. “Everything hurts.”
Kate chuckled in understanding, holding the cup to his lips. “My primary concern is helping your body replace the blood it lost. Until it does that you are going to be very weak.”
He sagged against her, his face gray, but his lips lifted. “Worry not, Kate, I was born of hardy stock.”
She laughed. “Aye, and you seemed determined to prove that to me.”
He gazed up at her, his sapphire eyes sparking despite his weakness. “And how is your wound?”
“It’s fine, merely a nuisance.”
“Good. When Robert hit you with that dagger, it scared the fire out of me.”
“Who was he, Micah? Why did he say you destroyed his family?”
Slowly, Micah told her all of his uncle’s rebellion and Robert blaming him for his family’s destruction. “Although I have little love for Henry these days, I still believe the rebellion was wrong.” Abruptly he groaned in disgust.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell Henry what happened. The letter I sent him earlier was hasty and did not explain everything. Henry is going to have problems with the church and with Scotland over MacLeary’s death.” He paused, looking down at his wounded right arm, and barked a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Kate asked in confusion.
“Now we will really baffle him when he receives a letter written in my wife’s hand but bearing my seal.”
Kate chuckled and crawled out of bed to fetch parchment and quill. She sat on a chair beside him, using the small bedside table, and wrote his words verbatim. After a lengthy explanation, which took many pages, the letter was finished. With great difficulty, Micah placed his seal, grimacing as he was forced to use his right hand which bore his signet ring.
“Now,” he said wearily. “We’ll send Hubert to take this letter and the evidence you found to the king. He is the most familiar with this plot and I trust him to explain the fiasco.”
“Shall I call him?”
“Aye, he needs to ride for London with all haste.”
Kate opened the door and called for Hubert, a moment later the young huntsman hurried into the room. “Baron?”
Micah smiled weakly. “My friend, I have not properly thanked you for all of your help through this. Without you, I fear the outcome might have been rather unpleasant.”
Hubert’s green eyes sparked and he inclined his head. “No thanks necessary, Baron. My calling is to serve and I have done the best I can.”
“That you have, Hubert, but I need to impose upon you again.”
“I am happy to assist.”
“I have a letter for the king. Take the evidence with you and explain all that happened.”
“I will do so gladly, Baron.”
Kate handed it to him and Hubert again knelt before her. “Your blessing, my lady.”
“Go
dspeed, Hubert,” she said.
Hubert kissed her hand and rose. Micah held out his left hand which the huntsman firmly gripped. “Godspeed, my friend.”
“Until anon, my lord and lady. I shall send word to you as soon as possible.” Hubert spun on his heel and quickly left the room.
Micah squeezed his eyes closed, pain marring his handsome features. “Kate,” he said, his voice tinged with worry. “Do you think I will be able to pick up a sword again?” He tried to adjust his arm and recoiled.
“Aye, Micah,” she said firmly. “As long as you don’t keep moving like that. You must let it heal first. After the bone has mended, then you may start using it again. It will take time but your strength will return.”
He gazed at her steadily. “Good,” he said softly, then held out his left hand to her. Kate took it and he tugged her to sit beside him. “You are a wonderful healer, Kate. You have not only healed my body but my heart as well.”
Kate felt her cheeks turn rosy. “Micah, I—”
“Hush,” he whispered, his fingers lightly brushing her lips. “Because of you I found my dreams. I never thought it possible to trust again let alone fall in love. But I love you with all my heart, Kate.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. “And I love you. It nearly destroyed me thinking you dead.”
“It is the past, Kate, it will take much more to move me from your side. This is a future which I will look forward to with a glad heart.”
“As will I, Micah.”
His fingers wove through her hair and he tugged her closer. Kate relaxed against Micah savoring the gentleness of his touch. “You never have to face your fears alone,” she whispered, remembering his words to her so long ago.
Micah blinked then smiled, his eyes liquid as he cupped her face. “I know. You will always be beside me.” He kissed her wonderfully, igniting a flame within her and obliterating the last of her weariness. Micah had truly defeated his fear.
He handed his heart to her.
Joy filled Kate as she returned Micah’s kiss. She would guard his heart with her life.
Epilogue
Appleby Castle
Summer, 1127
“By all the Rood, it’s hot,” Micah growled, pacing the length of the great hall.
John looked up from his wine cup. “Sit down, Micah, before you wear a path in the stone.”
“She’s been up there since last night. How long is this going to take?”
John sat back and chuckled. “Probably the rest of this night.”
Worry possessed him, he knew many knights who had lost wives in childbirth. He wanted so much to be with Kate but Marjorie had chased him from the birthing room with the threat of death if he returned.
Micah sat down with a sigh. He couldn’t lose Kate. He just couldn’t. After defeating Robert and MacLeary, Micah and Kate discovered a new joy. Micah now knew a richness of love he never imagined possible. But Kate, despite settling after their lives returned to peace, struggled with her breeding. She had grown as big as a barn, her delicate stature forcing her to bed for the last month.
To make matters worse, the summer had been unbearably hot this year. The sticky air hung in the castle, leaving the occupants sweltering. Kate had started her labor last night. Now evensong arrived and she still battled to birth the babe. Micah heard her cries faintly as he stood vigil in the great hall. Every instinct to help and protect her rose violently within him. But Micah could only imagine her fight against the heat and the pain. He shuddered and gulped down his glass of wine.
“Micah, relax,” John said softly. “It is not uncommon for women to take a long time to give birth.”
“Aye.”
“I have a feeling more troubles you than just this child.”
“Again your read me too well, my friend. I worry over Hubert. Aside from the message he sent a few months ago, I have not heard from him.”
“Aye,” John said, and stretched out his leg, wincing slightly.
Micah scowled. Thanks to Kate, Micah’s arm had completely mended, he was able to once again wield a sword with his usual strength and competency. Unfortunately, John had not been so lucky. His leg continued to pain him and he walked with a limp.
John rubbed his eyes. “I do not envy Hubert.”
“Henry was caught in the middle of a furious debate.”
“Try not to worry too much over it,” John said. “Hubert is a good man and he understands people. His upbringing in the church has given him a sharp intelligence.”
Micah chuckled. “That is truth, John.”
“Baron!”
Micah bolted to his feet. He growled an oath when he realized a young page called him, not Mary.
“What?”
“A traveler has just arrived asking to see you. Says his name is Hubert, my lord.”
Micah blinked then a slow smile spread across his face. He shot a grin at John. “Speak of the devil.”
John smiled.
Micah turned back to the page. “Show him in at once. Prepare food and drink.”
“Aye, your excellency.”
Micah didn’t have long to wait before Hubert strode through the door, smiling and looking as hale as ever. Micah greeted him warmly. “How are you, my friend?”
“I am well. I hear I have come at a precipitous time.”
“Aye. Kate is working very hard to make me a father. How was London?”
Hubert grimaced and sat heavily in a chair. “Absolutely beastly,” he muttered. “You received my message?”
“Aye,” Micah said.
“And he has been worrying himself to death,” John interjected.
Hubert shook his head ruefully. “My apologies, Baron, but I must ask one more boon of you.”
“Name it.”
“Please don’t send me to London again. This insanity has made it clear, I do not want a life filled with courtly intrigue.”
“That bad, eh?” John asked with a knowing smile.
“Aye that bad and worse.”
“What happened, Hubert?” Micah asked.
“I have never seen such bickering simply for the sake of bickering. Once I demonstrated all the evidence to Henry, and explained everything, along with your final letter, he accepted it quite well. The church and other nobles, and the emissary from Scotland were difficult.”
“I thought that would be the case.”
Hubert took another drink. “I had a fine time trying to convince everyone of the authenticity of various documents. Many of the church elders and other nobles sympathetic to MacLeary’s cause wanted to summon you and Kate just to see your handwriting in person.”
“Good glory,” Micah muttered.
“Robert and his vendetta is what eventually swayed them, although the plot confused them terribly at first. I spent most of my time trying to make them understand. Finally, a few key nobles and the archbishop realized the truth. After that, everyone else fell in line. So the matter is finished.” He paused and handed Micah a scroll.
Micah took it but his heart nearly froze as he stared at Henry’s seal. An old fear rose within him, a fear that despite Hubert’s assurances, Henry would once again find a way around his promise and bring Micah to heel.
Micah broke the seal and forced himself to read. A huge weight slid from his shoulders. The warrant simply reaffirmed the crown’s recognition of Kate’s inheritance and Micah’s status of baron. It completely nullified any other claim to the land.
He squeezed his eyes closed. “Love, home, a family,” he whispered. “It’s all real.”
Hubert sat back. “I do have some bad news, Baron.”
“What is that?”
“I took it upon myself to ask Henry about your inheritance in Normandy. The king refuses to return it.”
Micah shook his head, a new peace within him. “It matters not, Hubert, I have everything I want right here.” A memory stirred, fogged, and Micah recalled being so drunk he could barely stand up. But Kate had said something…
“What?” John asked.
Micah wiped his eyes and fought to breathe. “Kate must have the gift of the Sight.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It is simply something she told a drunken fool about how long he would have to wait for Henry’s vindication.”
“What are you talking about?”
Mary appeared on the stairs. “Baron—”
Micah clamped his jaw shut and sprinted for the birthing room, with John and Hubert right behind. He didn’t bother to ask Mary if Kate gave birth to a boy or girl. He didn’t care, as long as both Kate and the babe were healthy. Micah barreled through the door, his eyes locking on Kate.
Exhaustion shadowed her face, and sweat soaked her body. His heart threatened to stop, he had seen half drowned kittens looking better than her. “Kate?” He knelt beside her and took her hand.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Micah,” she whispered.
His hand tightened on hers. Where was the child? What had happened? Would she be all right? He swallowed hard.
“I love you, ma chérie,” he murmured.
“The young steed has done his duty twice over,” Marjorie drawled.
He looked up and frowned. She stood behind a screen. “Marjorie, what has happened here? Where is the baby?”
The old healer stepped forward, a bundle of swaddling in her arms. “Baron, allow me to present your daughters.”
His frown deepened into a scowl. “What mean you?”
Behind her a serving maid stepped into view with another bundle.
You will wait for vindication until we have Appleby well in hand and two squalling babes at our feet, Kate had said.
Micah’s bellow rang through the keep. “Twins?”
The Promise
A Medieval Christmas Novella
by
Dana D’Angelo
Copyright Information
A Novella by Dana D’Angelo
Copyright © 2012
Warriors Of Legend Page 38