by Shea,Lisa
Sarah followed him without a word. He guided her through the tents toward a crackling campfire on the far edge of the clearing. Only a quiet pair of elderly men sat to one side of the glowing embers, their creased faces shadowed, lost in thought. The crowds were beginning to settle down again, and a muted hush drifted over the dark camp. Sarah seated herself with relief on a moss-encrusted log, and soon Kyle brought over a stained pottery mug filled with mead.
Sarah drank the liquid gratefully, noting that the semi-sweet concoction was surprisingly good. She sat back, rolling loose the tension that had built up in her muscles over the past few hours. “This is tasty,” she commented to Kyle, who had found a seat on a nearby rock. “Do you make this here?”
The greying man nodded his head with pleasure. “Indeed, I do. I was a beekeeper at Abby’s estate,” he explained with a wry grin. “When Lloyd said he was leaving, I packed up my supplies and came along with them. I could not in good conscience stay behind when they were out on the road. Lloyd was always the impetuous one, but I keep him out of trouble when I can.”
Kyle took a sip from his own mug, contemplative. “We do have plans for the future. We could build a house a few villages over, once we have earned a bit of money for supplies. Between my skills and his we should be able to make ends meet.” He shrugged, looking around him at the rough collection of tents and people. “Unfortunately we have not built up our reserves yet. Life does not always work things out the way you think it will.”
“That is true,” agreed Sarah, taking another drink. “Life is sometimes more like riding a wild horse and hanging on as best you can. I am sure you will get there soon enough.”
Kyle leant forward, his face serious. “What is intriguing is that months can go by - or years - where it seems like nothing is happening. Nothing is changing. Then - wham - out of the blue comes something urgent, and you have to make a decision in a split second that will affect the rest of your life.”
Sarah’s mouth quirked into a smile. “That is why it is so important to make good use of those quiet months,” she commented with a chuckle. “If you have prepared yourself, and readied yourself, then when those moments come you can act wisely. Life is all about taking good care of yourself - and training your mind - so you can get through the sharp dips and turns when they do come.”
She finished the rest of the mead, then gave a long stretch. “I really need to head back home, or I will not make it before morning,” she sighed with a yawn. “Abigail and Lloyd already know how to care for the baby for the first weeks - I have gone over that with them several times, during calmer visits. I know there are other women in the camp who can share their wisdom should they need it. Please remind them that I will be back in two weeks to check on their progress and to answer any questions they might have. If there is any sort of problem in the meantime, send a messenger, and I will come.”
Kyle stood as she did, and took both of her hands in his own. “Thank you, for both of them,” he offered heartily. “It means the world to them that you came out to help her through this.” Kyle turned and waved to a scruffy young boy, who promptly brought the brown stallion over for her. He had been given oats and water, and looked ready for the return trip.
Sarah took a deep breath, then drew her heavy, disguising cloak around her, pulling up the hood. The heat was nearly overwhelming, and sweat immediately poured from her skin. She mounted with an effort and gathered up the reins.
She waved down to Kyle. “Until a fortnight.” Then she was heading back down the trail toward home.
The road lightened in front of her as she rode, allowing her to move more easily as the path evolved from wood to clearing to cart trail. Her pace, though quick, was not so frantic as before. Soon she was passing through an isolated village. Sleepy chickens nestled against the small homes in feathered clumps and a lone, mangy dog roamed the dirt street. Although none were awake at this early hour, she stayed at the outskirts of the next, larger village, and then turned south to cover the final miles toward her home.
Relaxed pleasure eased through her as she came over a rise and beheld the structure. The central three-story keep was built of sturdy grey stone, and the collection of smaller buildings were hidden behind the solid curtain walls which encompassed the area. Her parents were sticklers for discipline, and even in this pre-dawn light she could make out the alert, well-groomed guards manning the main gates. The pair had them open for her before she had a chance to call out, and the men waved a friendly greeting as she passed through, relieved to be home.
She rode directly to the two-story wooden stable building, only reining in once she was fully within its walls. She wearily dismounted and handed the reins to Lou, the young red-headed stableboy who stood ready at her side.
He gave her an impish grin. “Another late night, M’Lady?” He looked impossibly fresh and chipper to Sarah’s fatigued eyes.
“That it was, Lou. Please take good care of him, he has earned it,” she added, giving her mount a fond look. She smiled as Lou tenderly ran a hand down the horse’s neck. The lad was meant for the stables and cared for each animal as if it were his own child. Turning, she picked up her worn leather bag and headed slowly into the main keep.
The building was quiet in the pre-dawn light. She nodded in greeting to a guard in the main hall, then made her way up the stairs to her own quarters. By habit, she stopped by her younger sister’s room, poking her head in to check on her. The room was messy by her standards, with ribbons and lace strewn in all corners. The bed itself lay neat and untouched. Sarah shook her head, closing the door softly. Where had her sister gotten off to this night? Was it another tryst with the bard from the next town, or had she acquired a new beau?
Sarah put it out of her mind. What she needed right now was sleep. She moved down the hall to her own room, heaving the heavy door fully open with her shoulder. She hung up her bag, then shut the door solidly before wearily pulling her sweat-stained clothes off and piling them in a heap. A relieved sigh eased through her as she slipped on a light chemise.
She glanced up as the sun peeked over the horizon, sending a golden shaft of light across the floor. She pulled the heavy curtains fully closed over her two large windows. A breeze still curled around the edges, sending a refreshing breath of air into the room. Feeling relatively cool for the first time in many long hours, she climbed into bed and was instantly asleep.
Chapter 2
Sarah was being firmly shaken. Despite her exhaustion, she came awake instantly.
“I am up, what do you need?” she asked in a gravelly voice, struggling to open her eyes. The world slowly came into focus, with only a faint light coming around the edges of her curtains. It was hard to judge the time of day by that slim hint. Had she slept straight through the afternoon? If so, why was she still so tired? “Is it evening already?” she wondered aloud, gaining her bearings.
“Take your time, it is not an emergency,” soothed a familiar voice. Polly, Sarah’s nanny and maid since she was a toddling child, was moving to the windows to pull the curtains open slightly, bringing only a bit more light into the room. Polly was in her early forties, but to Sarah she seemed as active and alert as she had been when they would chase geese together so many years ago. Polly’s light brown hair was braided down her back in one long plait, and she wore a cobalt blue dress over a white chemise.
The woman stepped back to the bed with a cheerful smile, her speech slow and languorous. “Give yourself a moment to awaken. It is your parents who have called for you, not a patient.”
Sarah wearily eased herself into a sitting position. She could see now that beyond the bedroom’s curtains heavy, dark clouds roiled in the sky. She sighed with pleasure as she took in a deep breath. The stifling heat of yesterday had gone, replaced by a welcome coolness.
Polly brought over a rose-colored dress for Sarah and laid it across the foot of the bed. She then gently helped her charge to stand. “It seems a knight arrived at the keep an hour or two ag
o; he is downstairs with your sister, Rachel. Your parents have been stalling him, saying they will not talk with him until after they finish lunch. They apparently want you present for some reason. Now lunch is almost over ...”
Sarah sighed and nodded, dressing quickly. Had this knight been insulted by her sister and come to demand recompense? Did he have another point of honor to bring up regarding her? A thought occurred to her, and she smiled. Had her sister gotten pregnant and finally snagged herself a permanent partner?
Her younger sister’s impulsive behavior had been relatively harmless in the past. Her parents had nurtured that wild streak, delighting in the high spirits of their younger child. It seemed to remind them of their own carefree days as free-spirited dancers. They treasured the old ways – the ways of chasing after life and embracing it heartily with open arms. The days before the church’s hierarchy veered to a mindset of women as rule-bound servants to men rather than independent, curvaceous goddesses.
Sarah had always worried with Rachel’s hearty lust for life that there might come a day that she got in far over her head – that she could end up in actual danger.
Sarah pushed the thought out of her head. It was best to see what the problem actually was before she began imagining the worst.
Polly finished twining her hair into a simple, long braid. “There now, you best get going,” she encouraged with a smile.
Sarah nodded her thanks, then moved quickly out the door. She hurried down the long hallway, pulling up short as she reached the edge of the banister. She took a few deep breaths before turning the corner to walk calmly down the stairs and into the hall.
The central room of the keep was the largest in the building, and at the moment it was occupied by a scattering of tables, each holding a few diners. The banners on the wall fluttered in the pre-storm breeze, which was wafting a deliciously cool stream of air through the room. Two maids moved deftly through the area, refilling goblets and clearing away the remnants of meals.
A large, oaken table sat at one end of the expansive grey stone hall, and the remains of a delicious lunch lay spread out across the surface. Sarah’s stomach rumbled as she spotted two hens, a plate of turnips, a large loaf of bread, and several other smaller dishes.
Sarah’s mother and father were chatting comfortably with each other, and Sarah smiled to see them. She was renewed each time she returned home, especially when she took care of single mothers or women in difficult situations. Her mother and father, after all these years, still adored one another and it showed in every movement. Her mother, her blonde hair fading to grey-white at the edges, radiated a stately beauty and bright spirit which showed just why she was so chased in her courting days. Her father was reckoned a seasoned fighter by the troops. His short-cropped hair sported the same mix of blond, white, and grey. His lean build had not yet gone to softness.
Beside her father sat her sister. Rachel had inherited the blonde hair and buxom beauty of her mother, and she deftly used it to her advantage. She wore the cross necklace that every family member did, but her choice of material was a sparkling gem-encrusted gold creation which nestled deep within her bosom, drawing the eyes there. She was attired in a ruby red dress, artfully gathered to show off every curve of her body. She nibbled playfully at a piece of pastry, her eyes caught up with the visitor to the table who sat at her other side.
Sarah moved across the room, weaving amongst the tables and occupants. The knight looked up as Sarah approached and immediately stood to face her. Sarah was impressed; her first thought was that he was by far the most well-built man Rachel had ever brought home. She estimated he was just over six feet tall, with thick, raven-black hair curling to his shoulders. His build was sturdy, and she had no doubt from his sure movements that he could use well the sword he wore on his hip. His tunic was white with a red cross in its center.
A Templar.
Sarah’s mouth quirked, and her estimation of her sister’s talents rose even higher. If Rachel could convince a Templar to wed her ... but that was yet to be seen.
Her father smiled proudly. “Ah, here she is,” he crowed. “Sir Reynald, have the honor of meeting my eldest daughter, Sarah.”
Sarah stopped across the table from the foursome and obediently dropped a curtsey, lowering her eyes. “My lord,” she greeted him quietly before moving to sit in a chair across from the group. Sally, the flaxen-haired housemaid with the build of a pixie, immediately brought her a wooden trencher and a pewter cup of mead. Sarah drank down the honey wine gratefully, her throat still parched from the previous day’s work.
The knight bowed slightly to her, but his eyes showed irritation, not welcome. Sarah’s mind skipped through the possibilities. If he was here to present a suit for her sister’s hand, he would surely want to endear himself to the family, not be annoyed that a random sibling had come down late for a meal.
Her thoughts were eerily echoed by Reynald. “Your daughter is a late riser,” he commented with an edge to his deep voice, “and I am on a timetable. Can we now please get started?”
Sarah’s mother quirked an amused eyebrow at her husband, but said nothing. Sarah’s father nodded genially and opened his hands to his visitor. “We are all here now. Please feel free to begin.”
Sarah watched as Rachel turned her large, luminous eyes on the guest. Sarah held in a chuckle and sat back, enjoying a mouthful of the freshly baked bread.
Here we go. He loves her, he adores her, he cannot possibly live without her.
“My name is Sir Reynald, and I am a Knight Templar,” stated the guest, sitting back in his chair. His eyes met those of Rachel, and his tone became indulgent. “What that means is -”
Rachel’s heart-shaped mouth tweaked with mischief. Her voice recited with smooth certainty. “A Knight Templar is a member of the Rosicrucians – the ‘The Order of the Rose Cross Veritas’. The order was founded in 1119 by a pair of French knights - Hugues de Payens and Godfrey de Saint-Omer. They had been active during the crusades, and sought to ensure that pilgrims could visit Jerusalem unmolested.”
Rachel’s eyes sparkled as she looked to her older sister, grinning more widely now. “I believe it was King Baldwin II, ruler of Jerusalem, who gave them initial permission to form? Then, in 1139, Pope Innocent II granted them enough privileges that they became unchecked Gods on Earth …”
Sarah chuckled in response, then glanced over at Reynald to see his reaction. His mouth hung open as if an infant had just spouted gospel. Sarah had lost count of how many men had underestimated her younger sister, assuming that her flirtatious beauty equated with an empty head.
Reynald showed a new alertness as he looked between the two sisters. “You have accurate dates, if a slightly skewed version of the meaning,” he agreed finally, his eyes hard. “The Templars are a noble group, and you should be grateful that we exist. I myself have been serving in the Holy Lands for many years. My official duties have only now sent me back here to England.”
Rachel leant forward, a mischievous gleam lurking in her eyes. “As I recall, the Templar rules forbid physical contact with any woman … or talking during meals …” Her eyes flickered to the wealth of food spread out at the table, then back to the guest.
Reynald’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Indeed, we have tenets we swear to uphold when we take on the tunic,” he agreed, his tone tight. “However, they are open to interpretation based on the necessity of the situation.”
Rachel lounged back in her chair, her eyes bright with delight. “Why, that seems quite convenient,” she teased.
The knight pursed his lips, then deliberately moved his gaze to Sarah’s father. “Sir Christopher. My purpose in being here is that I seek permission to go house to house through your villages,” Reynald continued without further preamble. “I seek a midwife. She is rumored to have information I need for the mission I am currently on. I need to learn everything she knows about recent births – names, dates, and locations. If you could provide me a list of women to start
with, it would help me greatly on my task.”
Sarah automatically steeled her expression to hold no emotion. Now this was a surprise she had not expected! She realized with a jolt just why her father had wanted her to come down for this discussion.
She kept her gaze on her bread, eating it with studied nonchalance. Inside, her mind roiled. As if she would give up privileged information to this arrogant knight! She promised each woman she worked with complete privacy. She’d be damned if some interloper would stride in and demand she break those confidences. For this she had been dragged out of bed?
Her sister cried out with enthusiastic glee. “Why, then, you can begin with us!”
Sarah willed herself not to turn, and took in a deep breath. Surely Rachel was not so swept up by him as to -
Rachel turned the full force of her cherubic gaze on the man at her side. “My sister, Sarah! She is easily the best midwife in the area. Everybody says so.” She purred with pleasure, pressing herself against Reynald’s arm as she spoke.
Sarah bit back a curse. She loved her sister dearly, but there were times ...
She focused on cutting free a piece of the chicken on her trencher. She felt rather than saw Reynald’s gaze swivel slowly to look at her.
Against her will, she brought her own eyes up to meet his amber ones. She watched cautiously as his look changed from dismissive disinterest to careful focus.
“So it was not simple laziness which kept you in bed, after all,” he mused consideringly. Sarah’s cheeks flushed at the implied insult, but she held her tongue. If that self-important knight thought he could prod her into speaking up, he was sorely mistaken.
Reynald kept his eyes on hers, and his gaze sharpened. Suddenly his question burst from him with startling directness.
“Were you with the local wanderers last night?”
Sarah had not prepared herself for such an immediate and accurate attack, and despite her best intentions, her face showed her shock. She had never been skilled at lying, and had always prided herself on her honesty and honor. She considered the irony that her virtue could be used against her by this knight.