How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel

by Alden, Stella Marie

  “Gad, no. Way too old for my tastes, wouldn’t you say. Long in the tooth. She’s mayhap twenty and five? I prefer them a bit younger, but Edward commanded and thus I complied. You know how it is. I shouldn’t let her get lost.”

  “The king? You spoke with him recently?” He opened the door further and beckoned Marcus in with a quick sweep of his hand.

  Marcus stayed put and made a point at poking at the crumbling mortar, enjoying how easily it fell to the ground. “Oh, yes. We’re rather on good terms since I came back from the last of the holy wars. He did mention he was forever in my debt or some such thing. Well, well, if you hear of her whereabouts …”

  “What exactly did the king command?” He motioned for a boy to see to Midnight, but Marcus held tight to her reins.

  “Why, that I was to marry the wench and keep her lands safe from those that would steal from him. After all, she brings a fine penny to him in taxes. I’m afraid it was my punishment for coming home as second son with an army and all. He was quite adamant that I do well by her. It just won’t do that I’ve lost her.”

  Abernathy laughed, slapped him on the back, and indicated they should enter into the courtyard. “What if I were to help you find her?”

  He handed Midnight off to the stable lad, with instructions and a threat if he found anything amiss. Putting clean linen to his forehead, he slipped a knife into his palm. “I’m catching my death of a chill out here. I despise being distraught. It’s so good to have a neighbor like you.”

  “Good neighbor? You killed my men.”

  “What, ho? Me? Gracious not. Whatever ruffians are out there, they’re not mine.”

  They walked a few feet to the front door of the meager estate. Inside, the musty damp thatch smelled as if it had not been changed for years. Marcus gagged when a rat ran across the table and grabbed a chicken leg from a plate. “I’d much rather settle these types of things with gold. I hear rumor of a beast-of-something-or-other, but devil take it, he’s not mine. I just want to retrieve the woman so I can return to London and let Edward know I’ve done my duty.”

  Keeping over an arm’s length between them, Abernathy directed him to a warm hearth where dung and wood scents mixed. At least the smoke covered the other odors.

  “Mead, Thornhill? Sorry. All out of spirits.”

  Marcus sniffed and crinkled his nose with disgust. “Anything will do, in this godforsaken land.”

  Over the top of his mug, the corner of a tapestry flipped, and a short dark shadow slid down the hallway. Jacob was upstairs. But where was she?

  “So, tell me. Did the Lady Ann stop here or not?” He did his best to appear bored and indifferent and positioned himself such that to converse, Abernathy had to turn his back to the stairway.

  He grinned and made a lewd gesture with his hips. “I found her most grateful for my hospitality. I’m afraid she said she was escaping from you. Practically begged me to save her.

  If the arrogant prick had bedded his wife, he’d lose his head. Edward, be damned. What cut deeper was that she’d run from him and into the arms of this … this … toad. Had their lovemaking meant nothing? “You were able to overlook her disfigurements?”

  “Disfigurements?”

  Thank God.

  Marcus turned to view a moth-eaten tapestry to hide the relief that must’ve shown upon his face. He waved his hand as if clearing a whiff of sulfur. When he was sure that he was back in control of his emotions, he turned to his neighbor. “Ghastly. I don’t know how you did it. Are you that much in need of a woman? I assure you, I’ve gentle maidens that would willingly do better than her. Mayhap you should stop by and I’ll provide one for you.”

  “But she’s the Lady Ann, a noble woman.” Several beads of sweat appeared on the arse’s forehead and he wiped them away.

  “All the worse, is it not? I must bear the burden of trying to create an heir, despite her dreadful infirmities.” Marcus winked, but in his mind’s eye, he pictured ripping the beating heart out of Abernathy’s chest.

  The familiar hoot-hoot of an owl interrupted his thoughts. The all-clear. She was safe. He drained his cup and placed it on the mantel. “Well, I must be off. Lovely chatting with you.”

  “D-D-Don’t you want to know how much it’ll cost to get her back? You can’t leave yet.”

  Marcus stepped behind the ignorant arse and put his knife to his neck. Abernathy tried to break free causing the blade to dig into his Adam’s apple and drip with blood.

  “Stop moving, except how I direct you, Sir Arse. If your eyes look even briefly side to side, I’ll rip your throat out while you watch yourself die from lack of breath. Blink once if you understand.”

  He did, his eyes bulged, and Marcus dragged him to the door by twisting an arm. “Tell your men to open the main gate and bring out my horse.”

  He croaked out the command.

  “Good. Now tell them all is well and we’ve made our amends. Then allow my lady with my man to exit.”

  Again, he blinked.

  In the light of the moon, Ann, Jacob, and Thomas mounted their steeds. Marcus stood with his arm taut until the clops of hooves could no longer be heard over the sound of crickets.

  “Walk with me, would you not?” Marcus half-dragged Abernathy toward the large black gate that walled-in the estate. A stable hand shook, handing over Midnight’s ropes. “Know this. The only reason I leave you alive is that you knew not of her deformities.”

  Abernathy trembled, causing the knife point to dig deeper. “It’s true. I didn’t lay a hand on her. I know nothing of which you speak.”

  It took all his willpower not to break the man’s arm. “She’s my wife and under my protection. If you or any one of your men ever take her, or even speak to her, I’ll peel your skin off inch by inch, a day at a time, until none is left. Only the devil will care. Do we understand each other?”

  Abernathy nodded and stared open-mouthed at the blood staining his tunic.

  “Good. Continue to walk in front of me. Make sure none of your archers move. If I see an arrow or a weapon drawn, your life will end first and we’ll meet next in hell.”

  “Stand down,” he croaked.

  Chapter 9

  Ann was just leaving the stables with Thomas and Jacob when the familiar clip-clop of Marcus’ steed stilled the hooting owl. The silver moon shown just enough light to create a black ghostly image upon a black horse. She shivered and wrapped the saddle blanket closer. It did nothing to dispel the chill.

  Thomas and Jacob walked back into the stables and she easily faded into the shadows. The one weak tallow lamp barely lit their way.

  Marcus dismounted, gave his horse to the sleepy Charles, and slapped Jacob on the back. “Again, I’m in your debt. Seems you can steal just about anything.”

  The dark Arabian boy grinned, and his white teeth shined in the darkness. “She was no problem, oh noble one.”

  “Your reward will be in your next pay. Go get some sleep. Thomas, go gather the men and meet in the hall.”

  He hadn’t even asked about her and Ann was surprised how that pained her heart. After all, she’d risked everything to try to find him and apologize. She stepped forward and curtsied deeply. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  “I’ve no tolerance for you at the moment. Leave me.” He pushed Ann aside, handed Charles the reins of his horse, and said, “Dry her off good, walk her, and feed her. She’s had a rough night.” He patted the black beauty fondly. “Good girl.”

  The horse gets more sympathy than me? “M’Lord? I—”

  “If you’ve any will to survive this night, keep that mouth of yours shut. By God, I’ve survived the hordes of Jerusalem, but you shall be my death. I should’ve listened to my common sense and had you hanged instead of marrying you.”

  His words stung like arrows into her heart, but she wouldn’t allow The Beast of a man to see her cry. Hang her? Surely they were beyond that. “What’ve I done?”

  “You dare ask? Thou ar
t my wife. My wife, Ann. I expect you to behave as such. What were you doing flaunting yourself in front of Abernathy? Did you tell him how I beat you? Was that it?” The horses in the stable stomped and whinnied at his shouting.

  Ann stomped her foot like one of the chargers. “Oh, you’re insufferable.” I’m such a dolt. What were all those sweet words he’d whispered when he’d taken her maidenhood? He’d merely spoken so sweetly such that the bedding would go smoothly. Damn all men to hell. She’d actually come to care for him.

  Familiar stairs passed under her feet, the bolt slid across her bedroom door, and she knelt down beside her pallet. Was it just last evening, he’d held her gently as his rod breached her maidenhood? Now he’d hang her? She dared pray for a stay of execution. But just in case she gave another, Please, God, forgive my endless list of sins and lead The Beast to well guide my people. When a ray of light hit the back wall, she rose from her painful knees and cleaned her face with the leftover basin water.

  After donning her favorite green tunic, she braided her hair. Best to be well-dressed as her people watched her swinging in the air, hanging by the neck. Would she soil herself? It would matter not at that point, but she’d die better, knowing that last embarrassment would not be hers.

  The ever-present Bart nodded as she exited her room and slipped slowly down the stairs. The Beast was standing at the hearth in deep discussion with his men when she stopped halfway. “I’m ready.”

  He had the audacity to act as if she wasn’t even there. Clearing her throat, she said a little louder, “I’m ready, m’lord.”

  “What in God’s name are you ready for?” He rasped his hand across his new beard. Dark circles lined his red eyes. She noticed for the first time that all his men were fully armed and mailed. Mayhap this was all a walking dream? She pinched her arm to be sure. No such luck.

  Thomas turned to the fireplace and appeared to be choking with laughter. Marcus put his elbow to him and frowned up at her. “Aye, that’s right, I forgot. It’s time to hang you.”

  Her lower lip quivered and she bit it. Men had no hearts. “Is this some big jest?” Her voice cracked. “Would you at least let Brother James hear my last confession?”

  “Aye, certainly,” Marcus replied. “But I’ve not had time to put up the gallows. I find myself rather busy trying to fortify our estate.”

  Thomas snickered. This time, Marcus put a heel to his knee.

  “How could you forget such a thing as that? Is my death so meaningless?” Both men were almost in stitches as she was about to die?

  “Planning a small war takes time. I got busy.” He turned his back to her.

  “Sir?”

  He banged his fist on the mantel and the rarest of glass vases toppled. Thomas caught it before it hit the floor. “By God, enough of this charade. You know full well I’m not going to hang you, but you’ve single-handedly put our lands in peril and sent me to war.”

  She stomped down enough stairs to meet him eye to eye. “I? I did that? By God, I did not. I’ve kept peace in our lands since my father left a miserable dung heap to me at age thirteen.”

  With an index finger pointed into his face, she shouted, “I’ve not created this, my Lord, you have. I let Lord Abernathy think he was stealing from me. I paid monies so he would not invade my lands. But in less than a week, you’ve undone everything I’ve so carefully crafted over the course of ten years.”

  “And I suppose you thought by running into the arms of your lover, you would be saved?”

  “My lover? Were you hit on the head? Are you deranged? Arrrrgh!” Her palms pinched where her nails dug into the flesh.

  He lowered his voice and shut his eyes as if in pain. His breath smelled of tea and his body uniquely him. “He said you stopped at his estate. That you begged for him to take you.”

  “Yea, verily. I stopped on our land as he forcibly escorted me to his.” She quieted, crossed her arms over her breasts, and met his gaze. Damn the man and damn herself, too, for caring what he thought of her.

  “He took you by force?” His furrowed brows loosened and his eyes widened.

  She huffed through her nose. “Rather more like he offered me hospitality, without choice.”

  “Did you really want to leave me?” He reached to her, uncrossed her arms, and held both her hands. For a moment, he looked like a small boy, instead of The Beast of Thornhill.

  Her heart melted fully and she smoothed the wrinkles from his brows. “I wasn’t leaving you, most intelligent Lord and mighty protector.”

  Stepping down two stairs, she stood at a good height to hug him. “I was coming to find you. I was trying to clear up the confusion. My confusion.”

  If she were to hang, she’d at least die without him thinking her unfaithful. “I felt guilty that I made our people think ill of you. You’ve been most kind to me and I … I care for you.”

  He took a finger to the tear dripping down her face, shook his head slowly from side to side, and waved off his soldiers. “Leave us for a moment. Find some food. I’ll join you later.”

  “What am I to do with you?” His arms surrounded her and lifted her off her feet. She dug her face into the crook of his neck. “I know one thing. I’m not going to beat you and I’m not going to hang you.”

  “You won’t?” Her heart began to beat steadily for the first time since yesterday morn.

  “Of course not. Don’t be foolish. But I am going to keep you safe and I’m not going to pay a king’s ransom to keep another man away from my lands and my wife.”

  “It wasn’t exactly a king’s ransom.” She inhaled his scent deeply. His mail felt sharp against her whole body, but she didn’t move away. It was good to be in his arms and his good graces.

  “Well, how much was it?”

  “I can show you in my ledgers if you’d like.” Renewed vigor coursed through her at the thought of explaining her profits.

  “Yes, I’d like to see your ledgers, but be patient with me. I’ve been up all night rescuing sheep and ladies in distress and my accounting skills may be somewhat impaired.”

  “Never mind, I can explain everything. You’ll see. ‘Tis simple.” She skipped toward the small well-lit room where she did her accounting. “Can we provide for breaking-of-the-fast, first?”

  Chapter 10

  “How do you keep track of all this?” Marcus turned over another page of delicate parchment. A gray day shined in through a remarkable circular piece of clear glass, providing them ample light. Because of that, she said this tiny room was her favorite place for counting. The walls contained many pigeon holes, filled with rolled up parchments.

  Today, Stephen had brought in a chair big enough for Marcus, but then hers wouldn’t fit, so she sat on his lap, bent over the table.

  “Well, I’ve this book and I keep all of the debts in one pile and the taxes I owe in …”

  He shut his eyes and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “That wasn’t a question that you expected me to answer, right?”

  “Not exactly. We haven’t slept. Come and join me in our chambers. More accounting will have to wait until tomorrow.” He rolled up her ledgers, took her hand, and led her into the hall. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  “But did you not notice how well we will do once we have the new dye vat running?” Hopping at an almost run, she kept up with his brisk pace.

  “Yes.” He took her hand more firmly and walked a bit faster.

  “And also, the new apprentice to the glass blower. Soon we won’t only have one, but two men who can make glass. Do you know how rare that is? What price we can fetch at fair?”

  “Yes.”

  She was out of breath when they reached the carved door. “And there is the new bakery. I put it next to the miller, so much more efficient. And the spinners. We have two new spinsters this year. They are truly remarkable. It takes so many of them, just to make enough spun yarn for one cloak.”

  He sighed,
entered her chambers, and sat down on the pallet. “Enough. I’m tired and you make my own head spin.”

  “Do you want me to remove my—”

  “I want to rest. My shoulder is still healing. I’ve over exerted myself and not slept. Would you just peacefully come and share my room? I want you near me.”

  “Just near you?” She sat down next to him and her spirits sank.

  “Aye, I find your presence near me pleasing. I sleep more peacefully.”

  “But no making heirs?”

  “Shh. Not now.” Her still-mailed husband lay down and curled around her, instantly asleep.

  In the warmth of his arms and within the sound of his heartbeat, she was confused. How could he want her near and not need anything from her? It was an entirely new experience. For the first time in her life, she was eagerly awaiting a man’s touch. Maybe he was just napping and would need her in a few moments. Despite all her efforts, she found herself drifting away.

  She was begging and running. “Don’t leave us.” The fully armored man ignored her soulful pleas. His huge horse clopped out of the courtyard, past the well and the bathhouse, onto the main road. He never looked back.

  “Papa, please don’t go,” she cried, even after he was long gone. Heart racing, she ran to find her mother, who was still in her chambers.

  “Mama. Oh, Mama, he left us.” She shook her gently.

  “Mama?” She lay flat on her back, stared wide-eyed at the thatched roof, and moved not.

  Ann woke sobbing into a hard chest. Large heavy arms wrapped closely around her and pulled her close. Mail poked at her from all sides. “Shush. It was, but a dream.”

  Wiping her wet face with her sleeve, she said, “Not a dream, rather a ghost from my past sent to haunt me.”

  Staring, he rolled over onto his unwounded side, pulled off her gold netting, and twirled it around a finger.

  She sat up and tried to peer at the sky through the slit in the outermost wall. “I apologize to have woken you. How far from dawn is it?”