Unbidden laughter spilled from her lips. Jarin and Damien gazed at her as if she’d gone mad.
Ronar shifted in the saddle.
Alexia lowered her bow. “I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies.”
“Shh, woman. Have you gone mad?” Ronar said.
“Nay.” She smiled. “Far from it.” Before Ronar could stop her, she slid from the horse and pointed to the warriors of light. “Gentlemen, we are not alone.”
Damien frowned. Jarin huffed. Ronar merely stared at her in silence.
Alexia lifted her face to heaven. “Open their eyes, Lord.”
♥♥♥
’Twas not a good time for Lady Falcon to lose her mind. Ronar swung his leg over Penance and dropped to the ground beside her. He didn’t know whether to shake sense into her or cover her with his body to protect her from the oncoming battle. If only he could. He no longer feared for his own life. ’Twas this precious angel’s safety that threatened to rip his insides apart. Angel, indeed, for her heart, her every thought was for the welfare of others. She didn’t deserve to die. Not like this.
She faced him, her green eyes sparkling with such love and peace, he almost believed there wasn’t an advancing army nigh forty yards over her shoulder. But there they were. He could make out their determined faces, see the lust for blood in their eyes.
Alexia gripped his shoulders. “Open your eyes, Ronar.”
He drew her close and pressed her head against his chest, fearing the worst—that the terror had caused her mind to falter. He heard her whisper a prayer into the folds of his doublet, and closing his eyes, he whispered one of his own. To spare this woman. God, please spare this woman.
When he opened his eyes, an overwhelming brightness made them slam shut again. ’Twas as if the sun had dropped from the sky and broke into a hundred orbs all around him. He dared another peek. Nay, not the sun. Men who glowed as brilliant as the sun, dressed in white and girded with shields, bucklers, and swords—large men who towered over Ronar and his friends, standing not twenty feet from where they were.
Begad, was this some new enemy?
Nudging Alexia behind him, he spun his sword before him, ready for whatever came. But the beings remained, forming a circle around Ronar and his friends. They neither spoke nor moved. Merely stood, swords at the ready.
Couldn’t be. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
Alexia smiled up at him and took his hand in hers. “I told you we were not alone.”
His mind reeled. “What…what…?”
“God’s angels. His warriors.”
“What ails you, Ronar?” Jarin yelled down to him. “They are nearly upon us.”
Uttering a groan of disgust at what he must perceive as sheer insanity, Damien raised his sword, ready to slice the first knight who dared attack.
Ronar shoved the tip of his blade in the dirt and raised his hands to them. “Be still. Do not charge.”
“Are you mad?” Damien shouted.
Sliding from his charger, Jarin took a stance beside Ronar and followed his gaze to the angels. “What is it? What do you see?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Ronar smiled. “We must stay completely still. Move not a muscle. That is an order.”
“Are we at least allowed to scream when they slice us in half?” Damien barked back with disgust.
Jarin held his sword out before him. “What does it matter? We are all going to die anyway.”
With a huff of frustration, Damien dismounted and stood beside them. “Then let us die together.”
Ronar flung an arm around Alexia and drew her close.
The knights were within ten yards of the angels now. Close enough for Ronar to see the detail of their faces. Not defiant, determined faces ready for battle, but suddenly confused faces. Alack, Ronar would even call them expressions of bewilderment as their eyes shifted away from their quarry and scanned the field as if looking for something.
Five more yards.
Jarin moaned.
The ground shook beneath the advancing army.
Damien growled.
Four yards.
Jarin and Damien lifted their blades high.
The stomp of hoof and clank of armor clamored in Ronar’s ears.
His hand itched to pick up his sword.
Still, the warriors of light remained.
The knight leading the charge gave a signal to split, and half the knights went to the right, half to the left, circling around the band of angels.
Ronar could only stare in wonder. Alexia squeezed his hand.
Jarin and Damien remained frozen in place, blades leveled before them, faces tight with shock.
Turning, Ronar found the army circling behind them, the leaders greeted by Sir DeGay and Luxley’s knights.
“They were just here. I saw them!” the captain shouted.
Sir DeGay’s shaky voice returned, “Aye.”
“How did this rock get here?” The commander motioned behind him to where Ronar and his friends stood.
DeGay scratched his beard. “Mayhap the shadows of the day deceived us.”
“Nay, I saw them!”
“Where could they have gone?”
“Split up, men!” the commander bellowed. “Sir Graden, take the highway east, Sir Buxley, the west. I shall take my men north. You”—he pointed to DeGay—“take your men south back to Luxley. They couldn’t have gone far!”
Ronar finally allowed his nerves to settle as he watched the knights divide and gallop away.
The angelic warriors sheathed their swords and instantly sped up to heaven in flashes of light, leaving the four of them standing alone in the middle of the field with only a breeze and the warble of birds as company.
“What just happened?” Jarin asked.
Alexia fell to her knees and raised her hands toward heaven. “He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved.”
Ronar glanced at his friends. “I think we’ve been serving the wrong king.” Then dropping beside Alexia, he bowed his head and worshiped.
♥♥♥
Twilight lured the last remnants of sunlight through the trees of Emerald Forest, casting a golden hue over the leaves surrounding Alexia. And over the man who walked by her side, his hand entwined with hers. They walked in silence, serenaded by woodland creatures, the distance gurgle of a creek, and the sound of their boots crunching over twigs and pine needles.
She had come to cherish their evening walks this past week, the special time alone, sharing their thoughts, their dreams, and sometimes just quietly enjoying the verdant forest around them. Tonight was one of those quiet nights, yet Alexia sensed more than silent musing in Ronar. He seemed somber, and she wondered whether he regretted his sudden descent in rank from King’s Elite Guard to outlaw…
From friend of the king to enemy.
After God had sent his angelic army to their rescue, Ronar had lost his desire to plead his case before the king. Instead, he insisted on finding the friar and returning to the hideout behind the waterfall where he could best plan how to defeat Sir LeGode. Of course, Alexia had been thrilled with his change of heart. In addition, Jarin had been more than willing to join them—prompted, no doubt, by a love Alexia now believed he held for her sister. The thought made her smile. But Damien had refused to give up, and after taking his leave, had galloped away to London as fast as he could.
“Why are you so downcast, Ronar?” she asked as they wove around a moss-laden boulder. “Is it Damien’s news upon his return this morn that has dampened your mood?”
He chuckled. “Downcast? Nay.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smiled. “And if you mean the news that we are all wanted for high treason to the crown, why would that upset me?” His tone teased.
She jerked on his arm. “Be serious.”
“I am.” He squeezed her hand and gazed over the endless trees. “I take no conc
ern for the label the king wishes to place upon me. Alas, I no longer wish to serve him. Not after what happened.”
“You mean the angelic army?”
“What else?”
“Would that Jarin and Damien had seen.”
“They saw the result. It is enough for now.”
Moments passed as they walked in silence. A squirrel darted across the path with an acorn in his mouth, while overhead, a blackbird greeted them with a melodious song.
Alexia lifted the hem of her skirt to step over a puddle. “I wish the king had believed Damien’s report and not the messenger the bishop sent ahead to defame you and your friends. I am sorry you lost a friend.”
A breeze stirred the tips of Ronar’s hair. “I wonder if he ever was a true friend.” Fading sunlight angled through the trees onto his face, sharpening his jaw and deepening the blue of his eyes. “I may be an outlaw, but you, Lady Falcon are now labeled a witch throughout the kingdom.”
“’Tis no matter. I am used to hiding. You are not.”
“I’m a good learner.” Halting, he faced her and lifted her hand for a kiss. “Besides, I find I enjoy thwarting the plans of men like Bishop Montruse.”
He winked, his eyes full of mischief, and the look in them stirred a forbidden excitement within her. What maiden wouldn’t be excited in the presence of this man? He wore his usual leather breeches, tunic, and boots, but his doublet had been replaced with one that bore no royal crest on the shoulder. Still, he looked every bit the knight as always, knives strapped to his belt and his ever present sword at his side.
But it was the light in his eyes that melted her heart. Not just affection for her. But a new sparkle which bespoke an inner joy, peace, and purpose no man could steal. And a destiny that would last forever.
He stroked her cheek and smiled. “What are you thinking?” His gaze dropped to her lips, and suddenly nervous, she turned a shoulder to him.
A lizard skittered up a trunk, reminding her of another more sinister reptile.
“Hard to believe the bishop would dare lie to the king—telling him ’twas you and your friends who stole the Spear.”
Taking her hand, he placed it in the crook of his elbow and began walking again. “A month ago, I would have agreed, but Bishop Montruse thinks only of himself and what he can gain.”
“Damien was fortunate to get away from London with his life.”
“Aye, ’twas God’s doing he was warned by a servant before his audience with the king.”
She drew in a deep breath of the sweet scent of moisture, life, and hope. “Now he is here with you and Jarin—the three of you back together again. That pleases me greatly.”
“Aye. In truth, I rather like being an outlaw. It has a sort of adventurous sound to it, does it not?”
She heard, rather than saw him smile. “Don’t you dare become a rogue, Sir Knight. Not when you finally believe in the power and love of God.”
“Never. I serve a different King now. A righteous One. And I intend to follow Him and do good for those in need.”
She raised a brow. “Not because you must earn your penance?”
“Tush! How tiring that was.” He chuckled. “Nay, I serve Him because I want to, because He is worthy.” He sighed. “I cannot believe the Church deceives so many. Now that the friar is reading the Holy Scriptures to me, my spirit has come alive, and I cannot wait to see what God has for me to do. Such adventure awaits!”
True excitement rang in his voice, and Alexia could not be happier. “I, too, learned valuable lessons. I learned the Spear has no power in itself. ’Tis the Holy Spirit of God that is all-powerful. I also learned that I must walk by the Spirit, trust God, and not allow my emotions to dictate my actions. Faith cannot exist alongside fear.”
“Good to hear, because I grow weary of rescuing you.”
“Rescuing me?”
“Aye, multiple times.”
“I never asked for your rescue, Sir Knight. ’Twas you who could not stay away from me, withal.”
“That much is true, I fear.” They stopped, and Alexia recognized the small clearing where Ronar had caught her the first day they’d met—the day she nearly shot him with her arrow.
She smiled up at him. “You know this place? This is where—”
He laid a finger on her lips. “I know exactly where we are.” He shifted his stance nervously.
Shadows deepened as the last rays of the sun fled, and she could no longer make out the details of his face. “What is it, Ronar?”
Taking her hands in his, he knelt before her. “Lady Alexia D’Clere, will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
Alexia’s heart thumped so loudly she could hear it in her ears. Wife? ’Twas the last thing she expected from him, especially considering the threat to their lives. “What on earth are you doing?”
One brow cocked. “I’m proposing. What do you think I’m doing?”
“You wish to marry me?”
“That’s the general idea, aye.”
Finally, his words penetrated her heart and joy exploded within. Dropping to her knees, she threw her arms around him and embraced him so hard they both went toppling backward to the dirt, laughing.
Flipping her on her back, he pinned her with his weight. “Somehow, this seems quite familiar.”
“Aye,” she returned. “’Twas the position I allowed you to enjoy for a brief moment when we first met.”
“Allowed?”
“Seemed a shame to put such a mighty knight in his place so soon. You do recall what happened next?” she asked curtly.
No answer came. Just the press of his lips on hers. And once again her world dissolved around her. All that mattered was Ronar, the taste of him, smell of him, feel of him, and the intense love she bore for him in her heart.
Ending the kiss, he pushed back, breathless, and held her face in his hands. “I like that ending far better.”
Alexia had trouble finding her own breath. “I quite agree.”
He brushed hair from her face. “Are you going to answer me, Lady Falcon, or are you to pierce me with one of your arrows again?”
“I fear ’tis your arrow this time, Sir Knight, that has pierced my heart, for I am unable to answer anything but yes.”
Reaching around his neck, she drew his lips down to hers once again.
Epilogue
Alexia couldn’t wait to tell the friar the glorious news.
She all but tugged Ronar along as they darted around trees and shrubs, mere shadows in the darkness now. But she knew the way by heart—a heart that was now bursting with joy. They reached the pond, dove behind the waterfall, and burst breathless into the underground chamber.
The friar was reading the Holy Scripture to an enraptured Damien and Jarin.
All three looked up.
“Did you know about this heresy, Ronar?” Damien remarked sternly, yet his expression was playful.
“Aye.” Ronar took Alexia’s hand and approached. “I suppose we should add it to our list of crimes.”
“A growing number, I fear,” Jarin said with a chuckle as he sipped his wine.
The friar laid down the scroll and approached, his face beaming. “What is it, dear one? There is a new glow about you.”
If Alexia weren’t a warrior, she’d shriek and jump, she felt so giddy. Instead, she merely replied with more excitement than she intended. “Ronar and I are to be married!”
“Wed?” Jarin set down his mug and rose to grip his friend’s arm. “I knew it. ’Tis happy news.”
Damien snorted and stood. “Marrying the Falcon of Emerald Forest? What will you do next, Ronar, hatch a bevy of little thieves?”
Alexia’s face reddened as the friar gripped her, his eyes alight with joy. “God be praised! I knew it the minute I met Sir Knight.” He hugged her tightly.
“Mayhap you could have informed me?”
“And have you run the other way? Nay. Not when your happiness was at stake.”
She kissed him on
the cheek, and he pushed her away, blushing. “A wedding!” He rubbed his hands together. “How glorious!”
As joyful as the occasion was, Alexia longed to add to that joy with good news from Jarin. Though she had desperately wanted to join the knight on his second visit to the castle that morning, she conceded ’twas safer if he went alone, in disguise of course, to discover how her sister fared.
She approached the handsome knight. “What news, Sir Jarin?”
He swept kind eyes her way. “Seraphina informs me that your sister is still ill but has been on the mend these past days. She will relay the message that you are safe, close, and will come to her aid soon.”
“Thank you, Jarin. You could not see her?”
“Nay, LeGode has his knights everywhere.” He glanced at Ronar. “No doubt he fears we will return.”
“Wise man,” Ronar said, exchanging a glance with Alexia. Then raising his voice, he addressed them all. “Now that Damien is back with the news that we are outlaws, ’tis high time we behave like them. I say we make plans to defeat LeGode and restore Luxley to its rightful heirs.”
Jarin nodded, his expression firm and determined. “Count me in. I shall be thrilled to see that craven fiend in his place. However”—he arched a brow—“if we are to be outlaws, we need a name—something daunting to be emblazoned upon posters demanding our capture.”
Alexia smiled. “I quite agree. A name that will put the fear of God into all who hear it.”
“Precisely.” He grinned.
Damien shook his head.
Glancing at Ronar, Alexia flattened her lips. “Knights of Justice, Knights of God…I know! Knights of the Eternal Realm.”
Jarin nodded. “I like it. It sounds regal.”
“And powerful.” Ronar winked at her.
“We can call ourselves whatever you want,” Damien scowled and crossed arms over his chest. “As long as it gets my name cleared so I can return to London.”
“We shall do our best, Damien.” Ronar gripped his friend’s arm. “I know you have unfinished business there.”
The friar fingered the crucifix hanging around his neck. “’Tis a good name. Aye, ’tis very good.” He raised his fist in the air. “Hear, hear for the three Knights of the Eternal Realm!”
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