A Knight To Call My Own

by Sherry Ewing

  “But, I told you that one just yester eve. Do you not want to know how the fair princess falls in love with her knight from his show of bravery?”

  The boy shrugged. “Tell such a tale to my sister when she is grown. I am most sure she would enjoy such flowery words!”

  Royce scurried off her lap to find something else to hold his attention in the solar. She was not surprised when he picked up his wooden sword and began making jabbing motions, as if he, in truth, were slaying a dragon of lore.

  Lynet gave a deep sigh and went to the window to catch a hint of the sea breeze and calm her nerves. The night was dark, and, although she could not see far, she knew he was out there, just beyond her sight. Earlier in the day, she had been refused admittance to his tent and assumed he did not want to see her. She had asked Kenna to attend him in her place, since she could not convince Ian’s guard to let her pass.

  Leaning against the stones, she felt the rough edges against her back whilst she watched Amiria holding her infant daughter and Katherine holding her young son. Jealousy reared its ugly head, for she became most envious of the visions they presented. ’Twas apparent motherhood agreed with them both, and she only wished she, too, were married with a bairn or two of her own to raise.

  She needed to get out of here and away from all the domesticity surrounding her of late. Given the fiasco Dristan had started, she did nothing but fear the worst in her future prospect for a husband. Mayhap, something to eat would lighten her spirits.

  She opened the door to the solar to depart and saw Rolf stood there with his hand in mid-air, since she interrupted his efforts to bid entrance. Her eyes darted in dismay to the sling holding an injured arm. She knew, in that instant, her fate where Rolf was concerned had been sealed. From the look on his face, he was aware of it, as well.

  Lynet closed the door quietly so they might take a brief moment to have speech. Trying to form some semblance of words to express her sorrow, she found none and at last looked up into her captain’s face. There was a sadness there she had never thought to see.

  “Oh Rolf!” she whispered and held her hand up to his cheek. He took her hand but briefly, afore letting it go. ’Twas apparent he had already resigned himself that he had lost any chance he may have had to have her as his bride.

  “I am most sorry, Lynet,” he began. “I have failed you.”

  “Nay, you have not, my friend. Has Kenna seen to the wound?”

  “Aye. I fear I would not have been victorious in any case, despite my best efforts to make some claim on you. We both know I had already lost you prior to my injury.”

  Lynet took the wimple from her head, finding the cloth choking the life from her. ’Twas actually done so she did not have to fully gaze at him. She had the uncanny feeling Rolf would be able to read her face and the emotions she was trying to hide from him. “I do not know what you are talking about,” she stated with a quivering voice, dropping her eyes to her shuffling feet.

  She was not surprised when he took her chin between his fingers and gave her no choice but to meet his gaze. “Aye…you do, but that is of no consequence now.” He took her hand and bent over it, kissing it lightly. Straightening to his full height, he moved past her and put his hand on the latch to Dristan’s solar. “Ian is a good man and will make you a fine husband, Lynet.”

  The odd, startled gasp that escaped her halted his progress in opening the door. She watched his brow rise in a silent demand to tell him what had caused such a reaction. She took a step closer, as though she wanted to delay the inevitable. “Ian said much the same about you.”

  “Did he now?”

  “Aye.”

  Rolf gave a slight chuckle afore his composure returned whilst he masked his feelings from her. “I am most surprised he would think I would be a good husband.”

  She shook her head realizing her mistake in not clarifying her words to him. “Nay, not about being a good husband, but how you are a good man.”

  He gave her a lazy, charming grin, and she felt as if a little piece of her heart died inside, knowing she had inadvertently hurt him. “Well…that would be more like what I would have expected from him.” He leaned down and dared much by giving her a short kiss upon her forehead. “I pray you shall have all you ever desired in your life with him.”

  Afore she could form any reply, he was gone. She stood in silence, looking stupidly at the closed door, almost willing him to return to her side so she could explain herself. But what was there really to clarify? Rolf knew her better than she knew herself. With Ian’s appearance and determination in the games, ’twas only a matter of time afore the Scotsman would become victorious. There were few who had not already fallen victim to Ian’s steadfastness to win her hand. Even Rolf had known ’twas only a matter of time ’til Lynet would let her defenses fall and open her heart to Ian of Urquhart.

  She descended the turret stairs with a heavy heart and made her way to the kitchen more resolute than ever to keep her mind off her troubles. She had just sliced several pieces of cheese and an apple when she became aware she was not alone. She was surprised to see one of Ian’s guards standing afore her. She supposed she should be afraid to be alone with someone she was not familiar with, but nothing was further from the truth.

  “Connor, is it not?” Lynet asked and saw his nod. “Is something amiss?”

  “Aye, milady. ’Tis me laird. He be runnin’ a fever.”

  Lynet began collecting various herbs from cook’s supply. “Why did not you come fetch me sooner then?” she stated in anger.

  “He would not ’ave it, milady,” Connor explained. “Said he would see tae his own damn care, pardon me language.”

  “Never mind. Take me to him, and hurry!”

  Lynet reached for a cloak hanging from a wooden peg near the door and settled the garment around her head and shoulders. She all but ran to keep up with the tall giant beside her, who took her elbow as he ushered her to Ian’s tent. She did not wait for permission to come in, but quickly entered, making her way to the bed of furs Ian was resting upon. His head was burning with heat. She would have held some hope he was on the mend if such warmth was accompanied with perspiration, but his skin was dry to the touch. ’Twas not a good sign.

  “Get some water boiling on the fire then send a lad to fetch cool water from the river,” Lynet ordered and began pulling things from the satchel she had brought. She looked up and saw Angus had taken Connor’s place. She nodded towards the man. “Come…help me turn him so I can remove the bandage.”

  They worked swiftly. Lynet cleansed the wound and liked not what she saw. Quickly coming to a decision, she reached over and put a dirk into the heart of the fire afore her. She made another paste from the herbs and gently placed the concoction into Ian’s injury.

  “We shall seal the wound,” she stated, reaching for the dagger.

  “Do you not need to remove the paste you just put into his side?”

  “Nay, it will not harm him, but only help with his healing.”

  She watched the tip of her dirk as it turned a bright red. “The best course of action is to close up everything inside to kill the infection.”

  “He willna like it, milady,” Angus uttered.

  “I suspect as much, but you must help me by holding him down whilst I run the blade across his skin.”

  Angus got into position, and afore Lynet could change her mind, she ran the red hot blade across the whiteness of Ian’s skin. He bellowed in rage and bucked like the wildest stallion. The smell of scorched skin fill the air. Yet, Angus remained firm in his resolve, and ’twas only a moment afore any strength Ian still held left him. He wearily collapsed on his makeshift bed, much to the relief of Lynet.

  Connor returned, carrying a bucket of the frigid water from the river. From the looks of his boots and hose, he had attended to the task himself, since he all but left a puddle of water to mark his path.

  Lynet took a cloth and dipped it into the bucket then laid it gently on Ian’s forehead.
She gave the guards a sideways glance and all but dismissed them. “Go find your rest men and have no fear. I shall not leave him unattended and will see to his healing. I promise, he will yet live to fight another day.”

  She worked far into the night, exchanging cloths when they became warm from the heat of his body. She tried to get him to sip on some broth, but he would have none of it. She at last gave up for the time being, seeing as she was making more of a mess of things without much of a result to show for her efforts.

  Yet, still his fever raged on, far into the late evening hours. Lynet began to pray ’til her eyes became heavy from lack of sleep. She laid her head down next to this still man who had stolen her heart years afore. With loving thoughts filling her soul for Ian MacGillivray, she closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

  ~***~

  Ian opened his eyes and peered above him with blurred vision. Opening his mouth, he attempted to lick his dry lips. He was parched and desperately in need of something to quench his mighty thirst.

  “Wine,” he called out, although the voice he heard sounded as though ’twas not his own, for ’twas raspy, at best, to his ears.

  He felt a movement beside him and somehow managed to rise up on one elbow. Such a small effort on his part caused the room to spin inside his head. He closed his eyes to halt the movement that almost took the last of his strength. Bloody hell, what is wrong with me?

  A calming voice came to him then, soothing his spirit ’til the wetness of cool water ran down his throat. He reached for the cup, attempting to gulp the contents, since his thirst was so great.

  “Go easy now, Ian,” the voice whispered to his soul. “You must needs take small sips, my love.”

  He laid himself back down upon the furs beneath him and leveled his gaze upon the woman who knelt beside him. She was a vision to be sure…an angel gracing his poor sorry form with her goodness and healing touch. Her golden hair framed her face like a halo, and he knew, without a doubt, a guardian from heaven was watching over him. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to slowly cup her cheek. He was rewarded to hear her sigh most pleasingly, even as her own hand grasped at his.

  “I am dead, then?” he mumbled.

  Her smile reached her glorious eyes, and she placed a tender loving kiss in his palm. A truly loving gesture, but one he was not surely worthy of, from one of God’s own.

  “Nay…you yet live. I have prayed for you, Ian, and am most thankful your fever has broken.”

  “What happened to me?” Confusion wracked his brain whilst he tried to understand her words.

  She did not bother to state the obvious, but laid a cool cloth upon his head. “You have not been well, my laird, and should have called me sooner.”

  His mind began to clear ’til his vision focused on the young lass afore him. “Lynet?”

  “Aye…rest yourself ’til you are completely healed.”

  “You will not leave me?” he asked quietly.

  She brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead that threatened to spill across his eye. “Nay…I will stay with you always, Ian.”

  Her declaration restored his faith in himself that he would call her his wife. Silence came between them with only the sound of the crackling fire for noise as its smoke rose up through an opening in the canvas above. He heard dripping water, and a cool cloth was placed upon his forehead. His eyes never left hers whilst she continued her administrations on his behalf. She lifted the bandage on his side and replaced it with a poultice that took the sting from his wound.

  He finally found his voice. “I never forgot you, Lynet.” His words lingered in the air, and he saw hope alight in her face.

  “You need not say words you do not mean, Ian. The past is the past. Let any hard feelings I may have felt stay there. The only thing that matters is you are here now and must needs get well.”

  He pointed to a nearby table. “Would you bring me that small chest?” Ian asked quietly, finding a renewed strength with Lynet’s nearness.

  She retrieved the small box and brought it with her to sit down next to him. Folding her hands in her lap, she waited shyly for him with a blush upon her face. Ian pushed the box towards her. “Go ahead…open it,” he urged. “The proof you seek is there for you to see I speak no falsehood.”

  Her hands shook as she flipped open the lid. He continued his perusal of her with much interest whilst she began taking various items out and carefully laying them upon the bed. She had almost reached the bottom when her hand halted and her mouth formed an O of surprise. She covered her lips with her fingers whilst tears shimmered in her eyes. “Oh, Ian!”

  He knew what she had found, so he rose up and pulled forth an aged green ribbon from the bottom of the chest. ’Twas a favor Lynet had bestowed upon him in her youth. She had embroidered the token herself when she was no more than ten summers. The stitching was far from perfect, but he had not cared. He could still close his eyes and see her, as if ’twas but yester morn when she had asked to tie it to his arm. Her eyes had been such a brilliant shade of blue that summer day. He had been honored to receive his first ever token of affection from her, especially since he himself had been so young at the time and more or less full of self-worth. He had kept the ribbon with him always in remembrance of a pixie-like faerie who had followed his every move.

  “You saved it?” Her voice was barely loud enough to hear. But Ian could tell she was pleased by his gesture of keeping this bit of remembrance from her childhood.

  “Aye.”

  “I cannot believe you kept my favor all these years.”

  “How could I not?” Ian did not take his eyes from her as he made a large loop in the ribbon. Her breathing accelerated, as if she realized what he was about to ask of her. “Handfast with me Lynet, and let us put an end to this calamity to claim you in marriage by anyone other than myself. Handfast with me, and I promise you will not regret your decision.”

  “Dristan will be furious that we─”

  He cut off her words and sat up clasping her cool hands in his own. “I care not what Dristan thinks.”

  “But everyone will be so disappointed in me. That I would use such trickery when the games have yet to be completed…”

  “Dristan and your family will forgive us our trespass. I only care that you will agree to become my wife.”

  Her breath left her whilst she pondered his words. “For how long?” she managed to whisper.

  “For as long as you would like to make the arrangement between us. I will leave the length up to you.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes, and Ian was not sure if they were tears of joy or of remorse. Her words confirmed they were the latter. “I could not bear to become your wife in every sense of the word, only to have our union mean nothing come a year’s time if you so choose to end our marriage. What if there is a child? What would become of us then?”

  He pulled Lynet into his arms, and her hands wrapped carefully around his waist. “Then we will make our marriage vows to last for always. We will handfast now ’til we can call Father Donovan to us and seal our union afore the holy eyes of God.”

  “But my family may disown me for such a lack of prudence.” Lynet sat up, wiping the moisture from her eyes.

  “Let me worry about your family. I will take care of everything, if you would just tell me you will agree to our joining, sweet Lynet.”

  He watched her emotions race across her face ’til her visage transformed to one of a firm resolve. “For once, I shall think of no one other than myself,” she whispered, and she raised her eyes to gaze into his own. She smiled, and her happiness tugged at his heart. “Aye, I will have you, Ian MacGillivray, for my husband.”

  Ian’s breath left him in a rush of excitement, and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Lynet’s. “Angus! Connor! Get your sorry arses in here, and witness our union,” Ian called merrily, giving her no choice to change her mind.

  His guards entered as Ian took the ribbon and draped it over his wrist. Clasping Lynet�
��s hand, he moved the favor ’til it rested around their joined limbs. With a nod towards his guardsman, Angus pulled the cords together and tied a knot, sealing their fate.

  Angus cleared his throat and leveled his gaze on the suddenly shy woman. “Will ye take this man fer yer husband, milady?”

  “Aye, I will indeed,” Lynet said sweetly with a rosy blush to her cheeks.

  “And Laird MacGillivray, will ye take this woman tae wife?” Angus inquired, yet again.

  “Aye, most assuredly will I take her.”

  Angus remained serious in his words whilst he clasped his palm over the couple’s tied hands. “The length o’ the handfast will be the standard o’ one year’s time, me laird?”

  Ian shook his head. “Nay…our union will be for a period of forever and a day.”

  Angus nodded his approval. “Speak yer vows then, tae one another.”

  Ian smiled into Lynet’s sparkling eyes as they recited their vows together. “I take thee as my spouse, for today we are as one. Like the stars above, you shall be my constant light, a place I turn for comfort and security. Like the earth beneath our feet, our union will remain solid and true. I remain yours alone ’til death claims me, and, even then, my soul will find yours.”

  “Kiss yer bonny lass tae seal yer vows spoken this night,” Angus said reverently.

  Ian waved off his guardsmen as he drew his wife into his arms. Nothing had ever felt so right as to embrace this young woman and know she was his to hold for all time. He broke off their kiss, and she sighed in pleasure whilst she fingered the edges of the thread still keeping them bound. ’Twas a sight he would remember with great fondness, for many years to come.

  ~***~

  Lynet broke their silence by beginning to untie the keepsake she had bestowed upon her knight so many years afore. She was beyond words of what had just transpired between them. Taking the favor, she carefully replaced the ribbon in the wooden chest and closed the lid.