by Jill Stengl
He glanced up, startled. “Sir David? He. . .uh. . .wished us a safe and pleasant journey.” Quickly he delved into a new subject. “Have you considered that we have no ladies’ saddle for thee, Maela? And I have not the funds to purchase one.”
She brushed this aside. “It is of no moment. I have ridden astride since my childhood and see no reason for change.”
Harry looked uncertain. “ ’Twill be a long and tedious journey, and a lady rides not astride, Maela.”
“Then ’tis fortunate that I am no lady, as I have told thee before. I shall wear my drawers and a full-skirted gown, and none shall know that I ride astride until I dismount. I care not what people may think as long as I shame thee not.”
“You could never shame me. Maela, thou art the very light of mine eyes!” Once again the work fell neglected as Harry fervently embraced his wife. This time the honeymooners were not interrupted.
At last, the day of departure arrived. A small crowd clustered in the Fleming barnyard to wish the travelers Godspeed. Maela felt confused—uncertain whether to laugh for joy or cry in sorrow. For so long she had dreamed of seeing new sights and meeting new people, but now that she was leaving her hometown, possibly forever, she felt bereft. Familiar faces had become extremely dear: Jonas and Rachel, Lane and Lottie, her girlfriends at church. And the knowledge that she would never again see the familiar battlements of Castle Trent keep against the horizon brought tears springing to her eyes. She allowed Harry to lift her to Abner’s back, but her shoulders slumped as she adjusted her reins.
“Farewell, my dearest maiden,” Rachel held her foot and kissed her hem. “I shall pray for thee daily.” Tears streaked Rachel’s plump face, and her chins quivered.
Maela nodded, unable to speak. Jonas held Abner’s bridle. He winked and smiled at Maela, but she spotted tears in his bright eyes.
Lottie was sobbing, clinging to Lane as they approached Abner. Lane reached up to take Maela’s hand. “Lottie desires me to tell thee of her undying love and gratitude. We shall miss thee greatly, Maela child.”
Maela and Lottie had already exchanged several weepy good-bye hugs. Maela smiled through her own tears at Lottie’s dramatics. “And I you.”
Sir David himself had ridden over to bid Harry farewell. The two men had been speaking in low tones while the Flemings clustered around Maela, but now Harry reined Saul up beside his wife’s mount. “We must away.”
Maela was ready. Side by side they trotted down the lane and into the road. Pegasus followed on a lead rein, and the dogs loped along behind. Maela turned to wave one last time.
It was not until that afternoon, when they had passed through Bury St. Edmunds and headed toward Newmarket, that Maela noticed Harry’s unease. “Wherefore do you look back so often, Harry? Are we being followed?”
He glanced over at her, his expression unreadable. “Perhaps.”
A twinge of fear pinched Maela’s heart. She began to pray again for God’s protection, and for a while she distracted herself from the pain in her backside. Maela was unused to spending hours in a saddle, and she felt blisters forming on her inner thighs. Abner’s saddle was poorly finished, and its rough edges abraded Maela’s soft skin. Harry had insisted that she wear high boots to protect her lower legs, and now she was grateful to him.
She glanced back. The rolling, forested terrain concealed any possible pursuers. She sighed, thinking that travel was not as exciting and wonderful as she had dreamed.
Maela was exhausted by the time they stopped for the night at an inn on the outskirts of Newmarket. She waited in the saddle while Harry arranged lodging for the horses, and nearly fell into his arms. He half carried her into the inn and up to their room. She was unaware of anything going on around her.
Later she awoke to total darkness. Laughter and singing rose from the pub beneath the floor, and the room smelled strongly of ale and unwashed bodies. Maela sat up gingerly, very much aware of her aching legs and bottom. She felt for the blisters and was surprised to discover that they had been salved and bandaged. Dear, considerate Harry!
Laitha and Ragwort lay across the foot of the bed. Ragwort rose and staggered across the blankets to snuggle into Maela’s arms. “Where is Harry?” she asked the dogs. Exhausted, Laitha only snored on. Ragwort sighed, but made no answer. Maela considered rising to search for Harry, but that would involve too much effort. Surely he would return in good time. She lay back down and quickly dozed off.
It was still dark when she awakened to Harry’s kisses. Feeling warm and loved, she began to return his caresses, but he pulled away. “It pains me to wake thee, but we must away, my dearest.” He was already dressed and ready, to her dismay. “The horses await us outside. I left thee to sleep until the last possible moment. We shall break our fast in the saddle.”
Maela used the washbasin and chamber pot, shivering in the icy winter air. Quickly, she donned her waistcoat and full kirtle, drawers, hose, and boots. Harry helped her brush her hair, then watched as she braided it and bound it upon her head. Tying the strings of her cap, she announced, “Let us be off!”
To Maela’s delighted surprise, Abner’s saddle was now padded. Somewhere, Harry had found a feather pillow and fastened it upon the hard seat. “Harry,” she began, but could not think of adequate praise. She simply gave him a quick hug and allowed him to boost her up.
For the next two days they kept the same schedule, stopping at convenient towns for their meals and lodging. The horses appreciated the leisurely pace and were full of life each morning. Not even little Pegasus seemed tired, though his pack was heavy. Harry had packed it carefully, evenly distributing its weight. Ragwort generally walked in the morning and rode with Harry after dinner. Laitha trotted easily beside the horses. Maela’s blisters still pained her, but they did not grow worse.
They lodged on the third night in Stamford. Maela was excited when Harry told her that they were entering Lincoln-shire. Another day of travel and they would be near home.
“Queen Elizabeth’s minister, William Cecil, has a manor near here. Thy father has frequently sojourned there. He is well acquainted with Cecil, though not on the friendliest of terms.”
“How do you know this?” Maela asked, her eyes narrowing.
The Jamesons were dining in a pleasant inn alongside the Welland River. The proprietor had gifted Laitha and Ragwort each with a knucklebone, and the dogs were pleasantly occupied thereby beneath the table.
Maela watched Harry’s face redden. “He must have mentioned it to me.”
“I was unaware that you had spoken with him on a casual basis.”
Harry made work of chewing his tender beefsteak. He could not meet Maela’s eyes. After a moment he sat back and sighed. “I cannot deceive thee longer. Thy father follows us to Lincolnshire. I have met with him each night while you did slumber.”
Maela sat like stone. “How long have you known?”
“Since Sir David told me, before we did leave Trenton. I was sworn to secrecy ere I knew what I was about; I would ne’er be party to deceit otherwise. Thy father wishes to take ship at Boston harbor, where no troops shall lie in wait for him. Marston gave him a letter of introduction to a merchant there who will provide safe passage to the continent.”
“He said he needed funds from the bishop to pay his passage. This was why he held me captive.”
“No longer. He acquired Dob’s purse, filled with Trenton rent money. It was his own by right, and full sufficient for his need. This is why he gave me his blessing, Maela. He does care for thee, in his way, and planned to sell thee only to provide for his exigency.”
She grimaced. “Had he truly loved me, he would have found another way to resolve his dilemma. The bishop was a nefarious man, and my father knew it well. Love seeks not her own and places the loved one’s needs first.”
Harry gave her a long, sober look. “Thy father had not the Spirit within to teach him such love. ‘Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all th
ings.’ Have you demonstrated such love to him?”
Maela’s face puckered, and tears trickled down her cheeks. She pushed her plate away. “I did try, Harry. You know not what I did endure. . .” She covered her face with both hands and sobbed.
Harry wiped his face with the tablecloth, and rose. Lifting his wife by the shoulders, he led her to their room. Laitha followed, carrying her bone, but Ragwort could not lift his. He remained under the table, gnawing frantically.
Maela slept little that night. Ragwort awakened her by scratching at the door—he had finally finished with his bone. Harry was missing again. Maela lay in bed, alone but for the dogs, staring fixedly at the low ceiling.
“Lord, I desire to love my father, though he has cast my love back into my face countless times. I know that You did instruct us to forgive seventy times seven, but I fear I have surpassed that amount already! Jesus, You have promised me love and forgiveness despite my willful ways; help me now, in the same manner, to forgive my father and truly forget his sins against me. I did not know how hard was my heart, until now.”
At last, when Harry slept beside her, she snuggled against his warm side and slept peacefully.
eighteen
My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. 1 John 3:18
Maela remounted after a rest stop, groaning as her tired backside hit the padded saddle. Abner pawed restlessly and shook his head, anticipating her command. Harry, Saul, and Pegasus waited at the roadside.
“Better?” Harry asked solicitously.
“Verily, I thank thee. Thou art indeed good to—” She stopped, staring at Laitha. Whimpering, the hound trotted ahead along the road, nose in the air. Suddenly, she dashed off, heading back the way they had come. Her white figure vanished around a curve in the road.
“Laitha!” Harry shouted fruitlessly. Ragwort followed a short distance, barking, but quickly gave up and returned to Harry, requesting his afternoon ride.
Harry and Maela exchanged glances. “She shall rejoin us, I am certain,” Harry said, ignoring the terrier. They waited for a few minutes, though the horses chafed and fidgeted.
There was crackling of brush, and three armed men leaped from behind trees and into the road. They were filthy, skinny, and ragged, missing many teeth. “Ho, there, guvna’,” one shouted, aiming his bow at Harry. “Tarry a season. We would have business with thee.”
The other two grinned, eyeing Maela and the horses greedily.
Harry struggled to keep Saul still, repeatedly ordering, “Stand.” Calmly, he asked, “What business have we with thee, my good fellow?”
Maela silently prayed, squeezing her eyes shut, peeking between her eyelids.
“Grafton’s my name, and daresay I ain’t so very good! Dismount, sir. Hawkins, get me the gray,” the leader ordered.
One of the men approached King Saul, but Harry warned, “Have a care! He has a wicked kick and would readily bite.”
This was news to Maela, but she kept quiet. The horse did look dangerous. His mouth gaped and foamed; he pranced ponderously, ears flattened, eyes rolling. Harry seemed unable to control him.
Hawkins looked to his leader questioningly, but at that moment there was a “thunk” and an arrow appeared in Grafton’s breast. Eyes popped wide, he dropped his bow and grasped the arrow with both hands, then crumpled in his tracks.
Hawkins fumbled to load his bow, but stopped when something sharp pressed against the nape of his neck. It was Harry’s hunting knife. Dropping the bow and arrow, the would-be thief lifted his hands in submission. “We’re lost, Becker.”
Laitha sniffed at Becker’s worn boots, growling. The thief looked from her to Harry, then beyond Maela, and his hands also lifted.
Maela turned. There, not ten paces away, stood her father with an arrow at the ready, aimed at Becker’s heart. “Thy company was greater than we knew,” Becker observed. “I like not these odds.”
“Coward,” Sir Hanover observed without malice. “Shall I shoot the rabble?”
“Nay,” Harry replied quietly. “Disarm them and let them go.”
“They shall assault another company another day,” Trenton reminded him.
“That is not my business. We shall alert the constable at Bourne.”
Maela held the horses, allowing them to graze calmly at the roadside while Harry and her father disarmed the thieves and discussed plans. After obsequiously thanking Harry for sparing their lives, Becker and Hawkins disappeared back into the woods, bearing their leader’s body between them.
“I must collect my horses,” Trenton was saying. “When thy hound came unto me, I ascertained thy need and hastened to aid thee. Unwilling to alert thine assailants, I tethered the horses a short way off and skulked through the trees. I am acquainted with these woods, having hunted here in the past. Thieves abound herein.”
Harry thumped Laitha’s bony sides, praising her to the skies. “Wise, most excellent dog! You have done us great service this day. Thanks be to God for His timely intervention by means of a lowly dog!”
“And a lowly scoundrel father.” Turning to Maela, Trenton lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I desire to make amends to thee, daughter. My heart does rue my past behavior toward thee and toward others of my kindred. During my convalescence, I spoke often and at length with Marston about the duties of a father and of my duty to the Creator. For many years, I did give all to Isaac, believing him my child of promise; yet he did spurn mine attentions. Thou, Ishmaela, child of my true love, I did neglect and disdain. I would ask thy pardon, my dearest, most undeserved child.”
A great lump formed in Maela’s throat. Pegasus tugged at his rein, trying to reach a tempting weed.
“While I held thee captive at the castle, thy forbearance greatly impressed me; and yet I would not confront mine own heart and see myself as I truly was. I have abused thee, humiliated thee, neglected thee, and intended to ruin thee, yet you have returned unto me only honor and loving-kindness. I have purposed to make restitution unto thee in any manner possible. I observed thy nuptials from hiding and blessed them in my heart; I attempted to guard thee during thy travels, though thy husband has proven himself proficient. He would have outwitted these brigands unassisted in a matter of moments had I not intervened.”
Trenton turned to Harry, “A masterful exhibition of horsemanship, I must say, Jameson. Thy steed would have flattened that rogue ere he knew what hit him.”
Harry smiled acknowledgment, but remained silent.
Maela’s father continued, “I have learned, though late, that God promises fulfillment and love to those who repent and give fealty to Him. With my remaining days upon this earth, I desire to serve Him where’er He leads me. I can only trust that His promises are true.”
Hanover’s sober expression softened as he gazed at Maela. “Not least among my trials of penance has been the safe conduct of two creatures, which, I have been assured, are dear unto thy heart, my daughter. Why this is so, I cannot imagine, for they have occasioned me labors incalculable these four days.”
Trenton looked into his daughter’s wondering eyes and smiled. “Tarry here. I shall quickly return.” He hurried into the woods.
Harry took Saul’s rein and slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. “He hungers after thy forgiveness, Maela. Truly, he has endured much for thy sake, as you shall acknowledge upon his return.” He hugged Maela close.
She buried her face in his chest, taking comfort from the steady beat of his heart. Harry was easy to love. But did she dare forgive her father and trust him with her love? He was violent, volatile—just now he had killed a man and seemed to think nothing of it! Maela knew she would see Grafton crumple in her nightmares for many nights to come, just as, countless times, she had relived the cold edge of her father’s sword at her throat. And yet. . .he had called her dear, apologized humbly, and actually seemed to crave her forgiveness and acceptance.
Hoofbeats upon the road warned them of Hanover’s return. Mae
la faced her father, allowing Harry to take the horses’ reins from her. She was acutely aware that these approaching moments represented a turning point in her life.
Trenton dismounted, then carefully lifted a sack from his packhorse. Strange noises emanated from it, almost like. . .
Maela gasped in startled anticipation. She took the proffered bag and loosened its string. Two wobbly heads emerged; enormous golden eyes gazed up at her, then around. “Daisy!” She barely caught the tiger kitten before it sprang to the ground. Giving it a hug and kiss, she shoved it back into the bag and caught up the calico for a moment. “Oh, Lily, my dear!”
Harry helped her confine the frightened kittens once more, then took the bag from her. His smile, overflowing with love and assurance, bolstered her resolve.
Maela approached her father and looked up into his hopeful eyes, seeing her face mirrored in their dark depths. “My father,” her voice cracked. She swallowed hard and tried again. “You have my full pardon. I love thee unreservedly, as Jesus Christ loves me.”
A moment later she was crushed in strong arms, and a husky voice repeated her name over and over, “Maela! Maela, my little child!”
Harry watched, smiling, swallowing hard. Then Hanover Trenton lifted one arm and drew his new son into the circle, exclaiming, “God is indeed good! As He has promised, so He has done!”
nineteen
Praise ye the Lord. O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Psalm 106:1
Standing on the quay, Maela wept unreservedly into Harry’s jerkin, shivering with sorrow and cold. Chill winter winds cut through her cloak; only when Harry held her close was she warm. The ship had passed out of view, and with it her father. After eight weeks of blessed fellowship, work, and fun spent with Harry’s extensive family and his own precious daughter, Hanover Trenton had taken ship for the continent. He could no longer endanger his loved ones’ lives by remaining with them.
Harry murmured into his wife’s ear, “Let us return to the inn. We can sup and speak more of this in comfort.”