by Beth Mikell
And his gaze never left hers. The intensity reflected made her flush.
Colin stopped in front of Brenna, Darrius, and Ryrie, but his eyes were only for her. He presented his lance, and Ryrie tied her red ribbon with an encrusted gold coin to his weapon.
Their eyes met and warm heat blasted through their gaze, sounding a sensual urge within their depths.
“My lady,” Colin whispered.
Ryrie could not help herself, her rosy mouth lifted in a smile and crowd cheered again. As Colin returned to the jousting field, she was unable to look away. He gave his lance to Simon’s squire and Colin reached up to bind his long blond hair in a leather tie. The action was so mundane; Ryrie ached for him to do it again. She feasted on his every movement, hungry for every detail until a tight restriction bound within her chest. Her breaths sawed in and out at a ragged pace. She tried desperately to calm herself, venturing a sideways glance to her brother, but he was staring ahead.
There were two more requests for a lady’s favor: Lady Adara’s knight, Decimus asked for her favor and Erik of Chevington asked for Maude’s.
Ryrie gave Nyle a sideways glance, and found him visibly shaking as Maude tied her ribbon to Erik’s lance. She felt sympathy for him, but maybe this action was what Nyle needed to kick his shy-action-less hide into a movement for Maude’s personal favor.
Before the commencement of the tournament, Darrius addressed everyone in attendance: “Dear friends, family, knights, and honored guests of Blackstone Castle. Welcome! Today’s tournament marks a milestone in history in honor of His Majesty King Henry III. We come together on this festive day as a testament for all knights—noble and common—no distinction. Those that live by the sword, defenders of the realm, upholding peace and protectors of all. For the next three days, I beseech you to display your bravery and courage with decorum befitting a knight with honor and integrity. The rules are simple: No foul play—adhering to the Knight’s Code of Chivalry. Any loser must concede honorably or you will be disqualified and escorted off the premises. The knight with the highest score today will receive a boon—to dine at the lord’s high table each night and find a more comfortable bed within the keep. Now, let the tournament begin!”
Colin would be first, Ryrie noted, and a strange lump formed in her throat as he vaulted up on his warhorse—lance and shield in hand. He would be facing one of the men that had attacked her yesterday. James.
****
Each event would allow three opportunities in which to pass by their opponent on their horse. If the lance hit the opponent’s shield, or shattered, then a point was given. Stabbing a player or horse was an automatic disqualification.
Colin moved into position, and then took off, bearing down on his opponent. His skill was far and above many because he had once been part of the Imperial Elite. Mentally, he counted, measuring the distance, and at only the right moment, he flipped his shield out making contact with his opponent’s lance, causing it to break. Cheers of the crowd went up as Colin won the first event.
The same scene played out throughout the day—every event Colin participated in, he won until he was deemed the final winner, and the lucky knight to receive the lord’s boon.
He walked up to the galleries and bowed before the lord and lady of Blackstone, and Darrius stared coolly down at him. With a small shrug, he turned to bow before the spectators and they cheered.
“As the winner of the day, you will dine at the lord’s high table and you will receive accommodations within the keep. Come at your convenience,” Darrius said with stiff decorum, turning to escort his wife, sister, and honored guests back to the keep for the evening banquet.
He glanced at Ryrie to find her staring, and he reached for her red favor tied to his lance, untied it, and touch it to his lips as he bowed to her. Her startled expression excited him. With a smile, Colin turned to receive congratulatory praise from many well-wishers. He told Jacob, to ready everything from his tent in preparation to move inside the keep, but first, he required a bath. The squire hopped quickly to do his bidding.
On his way back to his tent, a tall, unknown man stepped in his path. The stranger was no knight. He was young, thin with a garish complexion and wore the dress of a pampered noble.
“Yes?” Colin eyed the man.
“Your pardon, sir, but may I have a word?”
His eyes narrowed, but he gave a curt nod of permission.
The man drew closer. “I wanted to ask, when the tournament is over, do you have any plans for future endeavors?”
His brow furrowed. “Such as?”
A sinister smile touched the unknown man’s lips. “Perhaps using your exceptional skills for another cause,” he suggested.
The man claimed the Gray Legion stench, and he was probably sent to recruit him. “I like to consider all possibilities. What did you have in mind, sir? Do you have a name to add to your mystifying question?”
The man colored under his pasty white skin. “Call me Silas, sir. What I am proposing is an opportunity to be a part of a large group of knights that are inclined toward issues of great importance.”
Colin smirked, raising a brow. “Silas, you could claim an opportunity to be God’s right hand man, though the job is already filled. You will need to provide more details, or are you attempting to malign me into deception?”
Silas smiled. “Indeed, your mind is quick and we are in need of men like you. All I can say for now is the group I represent is vast becoming a great power within the northern region and we seek to unite all the lords together.”
“I need specifics if you want my cooperation. I am not easily swayed by a few simple words at face value.”
Silas gave a slight bow. “Indeed, sir, we are but humble servants of his majesty and look to form a chain of security for the people. However, I will convey your message to those I represent. Good day.” He left as suddenly as he appeared.
The first step was complete. At the first opportunity, Colin would tell Simon.
Chapter 5
Colin strolled up to the entrance of Blackstone Castle. He had changed into his leather armor with Jacob behind him, carrying his things and leading his warhorse. He looked imposing and dangerous with all his weapons and his long blond hair flowed down his shoulders.
As he cleared the drawbridge, a sense of regret hit him square in the gut. Once upon a day, he walked freely here and the taste of that memory left a sour taste in his mouth. The forbidden keep he impressively managed to gain access. The home of his only relative… his half-brother.
The Imperial Elite stood together, eyeing his approach, and Colin felt a sense of reverence, having served much of his life with these men. They were to him as brothers. As a devalued knight in the sight of their lord, he could not predict their mood or reception. Only Simon stood with a stupid grin on his face, as usual.
The gatekeeper, stepped out of his post, blocking Colin’s path. “Congratulations on your win today, sir. Before entering my lord’s keep, I must ask you, respectfully, to disarm.”
Colin’s mouth lifted in a smile. He glanced to the Imperial Elite to find them all with equally stupid grins, totally amused and waiting for him to proceed. “I expected nothing less.” He reached for the large broadsword at his left hip, pulling it out and placed the weapon in John’s waiting hands.
Then, he unloaded a dagger at his back along with the other two swords at his shoulder harness, and John’s eyes grew large. Two smaller daggers appeared from inside his metal gauntlets and two from each boot.
“That is all,” Colin told John, holding up his hands.
The older man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, thank you for complying.”
“God teeth!” Angus exclaimed with a chuckle, nudging Thomas in the ribs.
Colin rewarded his comment with a flash of a smile and bowed.
Dugan stepped forward to hit Colin in the shoulder warmly. “Some things never change, I see. You always had to make an entrance, eh?” the large knight said dryly
.
Colin’s smile faded into a smirk. “And exit. It is the nature of the beast, I suppose.”
“Damn my eyes, I missed your curt tongue,” Angus said with a hearty laugh, shaking hands with the long departed friend.
“I am not sure your liege shares your opinion,” the exiled knight muttered.
Dugan sobered and his tone softened, “Give him some time. He may come around.”
Rowan took a step forward, shaking Colin’s hand. “He hasn’t killed you yet. Consider yerself lucky.”
Colin could not help but roll his eyes. “The significant word being ‘yet’. The end of your lord’s sword may be upon me soon.”
Simon fell in line next to his dismissed friend. “There is plenty of time, of course. If it comes down to it, I know a great place to hang your head.”
Colin patted his shoulder. “Aye, right alongside yours, my friend.”
All the men dissolved into hearty laughter and Colin reached to cuff the young knight in the back of the head. It took only a few minutes and the group scaled the awkward moment with a few lines of shared banter accompanied by genuine smiles. Finally, they breathed as a whole group—like they once were. Together, they headed to the keep as brothers.
****
Ryrie descended the stone stairs with Linnea and Maude, heading to the banquet. Brenna had proceeded before them to see to the management of the meal. The great hall boasted an infusion of colorful banners, music, and dancing, not to mention a bounty of food and flowing ale or wine. The people of Blackstone clamored after the celebration with deafening laughter and happiness, enjoying their lord and lady’s generosity.
The three women rounded the corner of the great hall and ran into a tall, buxom blonde woman, wearing a bright yellow gown, hugging every curve of her shapely figure. To Ryrie, the woman reeked of sexual tension, ready for potential pursuit.
The woman bowed with a graceful flair, smiling. “Excuse me, ladies,” she said, sidestepping the three, traveling on.
Ryrie leaned over to Maude and Linnea. “Who was that?”
Maude’s mouth drew into a flat line of displeasure. “Neda. She used to live here when the keep was known as Dorling Castle, but left a few years ago. She is the… uh… guest of Sir Douglas, but her true nature is that of a common leman,” she whispered.
Ryrie smiled at her young friend. “I see.” She pulled Maude’s arm up to link with her, walking together. “Let’s go have fun, shall we?”
They moved to the head of the high table where Darrius sat with Brenna, while Linnea moved to sit with her husband, Dugan. Lady Adara sat on the other side of Darrius and they were deep in conversation as they moved closer. His head came up to flash his sister a smile, and she reciprocated by leaning down to kiss his cheek, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.
Erik of Chevington stepped in front of Ryrie and Maude, giving a slight bow. “Ladies, how are you both this fine evening?”
Ryrie felt Maude stiffen at her side, but she tried to soothe her by answering his question. “Thank you Erik. As you see, we are blessed this fine evening with a delightful banquet. I hope you found everything to your liking. Were you sitting?”
There was no doubt he was caught off guard by her directness, and Erik visibly swallowed hard, yet recovered. “Yes. I wanted to ask if Maude would do me the honor of sitting next to me.” His blue eyes expectant and he offered his arm to the young woman.
Ryrie stepped to the side to allow Maude to make her decision and the younger girl hesitantly took his proffered arm, allowing him to show her to a chair at the table.
With a sigh, she observed the hall and found Colin. He stood next to Simon and Nyle, his eyes on her. Her mouth went dry under his intense scrutiny, her blood flashing hot through her veins with her breath picking up speed. Mentally, she gave herself a shake and moved with a graceful glide toward them. The heat of Colin’s gaze burned a hole right through her, and her heart thumped erratically within her chest. She willed herself to relax. She stopped in front of Nyle, yet close enough she could feel Colin’s body heat.
“A word, cousin, if you please.” She tried to ignore Colin, yet failed. His delicious scent pervaded her senses, threading a surge of feminine power through her body and she sank further into desire.
Nyle straightened, stepping forward to walk away with her, and she cast a sideways glance to Colin. He half-smiled, unnerving her further, but she turned her attention back to Nyle.
“What is it, Ryrie?” His usual cool demeanor was replaced with rankled crispness.
Ryrie chuckled at his obvious jealousy. “I will make this quick and painless for you. Get over there and ask to speak to Maude privately before Erik leaves in three days with a betrothed,” she said sternly, giving him the small and short of it. He better move fast.
Nyle’s lips moved to protest, but she cut him off. “Nay, the whole keep is aware of your infatuation with Maude. It is time to end your shy regard before you lose her entirely. Now, move it! Otherwise, you are not the man I think you to be. Which is it?”
Nyle cast a fuming glance toward Maude and Erik smiling together, and he fisted his hands at his side. With a curse, he pushed a hand through his long, unbound dark hair. “How can I be sure it is what she will want,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
Ryrie’s eyes rolled upward and she laughed sweetly, linking her arm through his. “Trust me, it is. However, our little darling is just as shy as you, muttonhead. Erik is scenting for a wife, and he is not wary about casting his net. It is now or never, cousin,” she stated matter-of-fact, but her expression sobered and her tone dropped to serious. “Do not force sweet Maude to accept something she will regret the rest of her life simply because you were… waiting,” she warned.
He smiled with sadness and shook his head. “You were never one to mix words.”
One shoulder lifted in an offhand shrug. “Why bother? The truth will eventually surface in any situation. Now go. You do not have much time as I see it.” She nudged Nyle forward with her hand toward his woman. She observed her friend’s tight smile, but it was obvious to Ryrie that she was not enjoying herself.
“I hope you are right about this,” Nyle complained.
“I am. Stop stalling before I punch you.”
With a grin, Nyle bowed and went on his way. Ryrie watched him closely for a few moments and when she was sure Maude walked away with her cousin, she turned her gaze back to Colin. She wanted to smile at him, but turned away and made her way out of the great hall. Her hope was that he would follow, and she headed for the battlements.
****
“Maude, may I speak to you on a matter of great importance?” Nyle tried to keep his voice neutral, yet biting jealousy seeped through his words.
Erik peered up at the Imperial knight and blanched.
Nyle held Maude’s chair for her to rise, offering his arm, leading her away. He directed her to a small sitting room and closed the door.
****
Maude chewed back a lump in her throat. Her nerves were rattled, and she breathed in ragged gasps as she sat down on one of the chairs before the fireplace. She twisted her fingers in her lap, watching Nyle pace back and forth in front of her. His movement exhausted her overwrought senses. If she were not already raw emotionally, she would have laughed.
He stopped, his eyes boring into her. “I want to ask—no,” Nyle began, only to cut himself off and paced. He stopped again and stared at her. “Would you consider—that is to say—no.” He walked the floor with more agitated steps.
Swallowing back her pride, common sense, and peace, Maude stood up on shaky legs. “I answer yes to whatever your question,” she breathed, hoping she was not wrong.
He gaped, his jaw dropping in surprise. “But... you do not even know what I will ask.”
“Then ask me,” she whispered softly, her blue eyes alight with love.
“Will you—will you be opposed to marriage? To me—that is?” He blew out a harsh breath. “God, I am doing
this all wrong!” He dragged a hand through his long hair, looking away from her.
“No.”
His head swung around and pinned her with a pained expression. Absolute horror etched in every line of his face. He was… speechless and that was not saying much for one of the world’s shyest men. She resisted the urge to laugh. He looked so lost, and she smiled. “I meant, I am not opposed to marriage to you, Nyle. I did answer your question.”
Nyle took two steps forward and sank to his knees, releasing a ragged breath. “Then… you… truly? Without reservation? Please be honest, lady, for I cannot take more. I love you too much,” he groaned, his dark brown eyes filled with pain.
Maude took the remaining steps, closing the distance between them and sank to her knees too, her heart ramming against her ribs. “My answer is yes. Always yes. Forever yes. Please yes. Shall I go on?” Her confidence soared.
He shook his head, a smile breaking his face. Nyle brought up his hands to cup Maude’s cheeks. “My Maude… oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes closed.
“I love you, Nyle.”
His eyes opened, and he looked into her gaze with ardent emotion. “Forgive me. I am so sorry I took so long.” Regret climbed his expression. “When Erik requested your favor today, I thought I had lost you.” He thumbed her parted lips.
“H-he could have asked anything of me, but I would have refused. I have only ever wanted you.”
He shook his head. “God, I love you so much.”
“Nyle.” Her breath rushed out, and her hands came up to touch her diffident warrior for the first time. She linked her hands around his neck, caressing his skin.
He dipped his head, his tongue traced the seam of her lips and she automatically opened for him. With slow intensity, his lips melted against hers. She was shocked into bliss by his taste, and he pulled her deep into his arms, angling her head back. He swirled through her mouth, groaning.