The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The monkey was affectionate and soon curled up on Dustin’s lap as she stroked it tenderly. It was a tiny little thing with a beard that moved comically when the vendor gave it something to eat. Dustin forgot all about the baker.

  She lost all track of time petting the monkey and playing with it, laughing when it would smile a big monkey-smile. Her guards never said a word and neither did the vendor, although she was costing him money the longer she played with his source of income. But after a while she realized that she was taking the man’s valuable time, although she was depressed at the thought of leaving the monkey.

  Thanking the man for his kindness, she gave him all of the coins that Christopher had given her for the baker. She turned around to the soldier in charge and shrugged carelessly.

  “I guess we are not going to the baker, after all,” she said. “We should go back and find my husband.”

  The soldier nodded and they started back the way they had come. They hadn’t moved five feet when there was great screaming and a commotion behind them. Dustin whirled around to see the vendor viciously fighting with the little monkey. The monkey was flipping over and over on the end of the leash, biting the man when he tried to grab him. She continued to watch in horror as the man swatted the monkey heavily on the side of the head, as the little animal fell, dazed, to the ground.

  She rushed forward as the vendor picked the monkey up by the scruff of the neck, mumbling curses at the creature.

  “How dare you strike that monkey!” she accused loudly. “Put him down, I say!”

  The nice vendor was suddenly not so nice. “ ’Tis my beast, missy, and I shall thank ye to stay out of my affair.”

  Enraged, Dustin grabbed his arm. “I shall not stay out of it, not when you go about beating tiny defenseless animals. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  The monkey was beginning to come around, squirming and crying just like a human baby, and the vendor struck it again to keep it still.

  Dustin shrieked. “Don’t do that!”

  The man bit off a retort and turned his back on her, moving to gather his things. Dustin was furious.

  “Don’t you dare ignore me,” she snarled, yanking his arm so hard that he nearly lost his balance. “I will not allow you to mistreat that monkey no matter what it has done. Give it to me.”

  The man shoved her back roughly, still holding the monkey cruelly. “Go away, ye fancy bit of chit. This is none of yer affair as I warned ye before.”

  Before her guards could even make a move, Dustin balled up a fist and slugged the man squarely in the jaw as well as any soldier. The vendor sailed back, tripping over his own feet and the monkey fell from his grasp. The men-at-arms were moving in to kill the man but Dustin beat them to it, pouncing on the fool and pounding him twice with her hard fists until he struck back and caught her in the face, sending her off him and onto the cobblestones. By that time the soldiers were there and Dustin was pushed aside.

  Dustin hopped to her feet, furious and ready for another go around, when there was suddenly a huge hand on her shoulder. Startled, she looked up to see her husband walking past her, pushing his way through the soldiers and grabbing the vendor by his hair. He then removed his dagger as swift as a desert wind and slit the man’s throat. The vendor’s life slipped away in a gurgle of blood and mucus.

  As fast as it had started, it was over. The people on the street who witnessed the event quickly moved away and went about their business, pretending to be busy. Anything to keep from making eye contact with the massive knight lest they be the next victim. But they all knew why he had done it, even Dustin. The vendor’s mortal mistake had been to touch the knight’s woman.

  Christopher wiped his dagger on his mail and sheathed it, turning to his wife as calmly as anything.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “He hit you fairly hard.”

  “I am fine.” She let him turn her face to get a look at her cheekbone. Her anger was fleeing and she was beginning to feel tremendously guilty for what she had caused. “I hit him first, Christopher. He was beating the monkey and….”

  “I know,” he replied, eyeing her cheek. “You are going to have a slight bruise. It’s already swollen.”

  That was the extent of his comment, no lecture, no anger, and no questions. Dustin wondered if she should explain what happened anyway. He had killed for her so easily and the thought frightened her. Did she have so much power?

  He let go of her chin and took her by the arm, but she suddenly balked. “The monkey!” she cried. “Where did it go?”

  “Monkey?” Christopher repeated, watching his wife bound away, cooing into crevices and under tables and carts.

  Dustin was determined to find the monkey. Christopher turned to his men, demanding to know what she was talking about and they eagerly told him. They also told him what events had started the fight, for in faith, he had only seen his wife strike the man and the return blow. Now, with an explanation from his soldiers, he understood completely. It was a good thing he had finished his business when he had and had gone in search of her, for there was no telling what would have happened to the man had his wife been let loose on him. Her passion for animals were deep. She would have done anything to protect the weaker creature and the man could have very well been beaten to death by an enraged female. As it was, his death was relatively quick and painless, a hard lesson learned for touching the Lion Claw’s wife.

  Christopher continued to watch her search for the little creature until she stopped by a storm drain and he could see her talking to something inside of it. He moved forward slowly, listening to the soft tone of her voice as she extended her hand gently. It was virtually no time at all before a tiny little monkey with a white beard gingerly came out of the pipe and held onto one of her fingers. She smiled and spoke to it as if it were a child, capable of understanding every word she said.

  He paused a moment, his heart warming at the sight of his beautiful wife, resplendent in silk and brocade, crouching in the filthy gutters of London coaxing, of all things, a monkey from a hole. Had he not seen it he would not have believed it, and the confirmation of what he had been feeling for nearly a week hit him full-bore. He was hopelessly in love with her.

  The monkey climbed onto her hand and Dustin rose, cradling the frightened little thing against her warm cloak as she went back over to her husband.

  “Look at him,” she crooned. “Isn’t he sweet?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A monkey? You recently acquired three dogs and now you need a monkey?”

  She looked up at him. “I do not need him, he needs me. Just look at him, the pathetic little thing.” She kissed the monkey’s head.

  He snorted. “Lips that touch monkey fur will not touch mine.”

  She gave him a saucy little grin. “Is that so? And how long can you be faithful to that vow? An hour? Two?”

  He shook his head reproachfully, wondering what he was going to do with the menagerie she was collecting. He chose to ignore her taunt, knowing she was correct.

  “That vendor, mayhap, had a family,” he said. “If that is the case, this monkey belongs to them.”

  She looked stricken but surprisingly she didn’t protest. “I am sure you are right,” she said softly, hugging the monkey closer. “Mayhap it is only right to turn the monkey back over to them.” Considering that because of her, her husband had just killed the family’s source of income.

  Christopher could see her downfallen expression. As she hugged and kissed the monkey, he felt sorry for her. Turning around, he caught the attention of the nearest vendor.

  “You, man,” he said sharply, then pointed to the dead peddler. “Do you know if the man had family?”

  The vendor was a silversmith. His eyes widened and he scraped the ground a couple of times before answering. “Nay, sire, he was all alone,” he said. “His wife died a couple of years ago and they had no children.”

  Christopher turned back to his wife, noticing that her expression had brigh
tened considerably. He felt himself relenting.

  “Very well, you may keep it,” he said reluctantly. “But it had better behave or I will spank you for any transgressions it commits.”

  She laid her cheek on the top of the monkey’s head and smiled at him. “Sir George will be a perfect gentleman,” she promised.

  He rolled his eyes. “Sir George? You named it after the greatest knight who ever lived? The Dragonslayer?”

  Her eyes took on a warm glow. “You are the greatest knight who ever lived,” she whispered.

  He gazed back at her, a smile spreading across his lips, pleased and flattered yet knowing just the same that she probably said it simply because he granted her desire.

  “Well for you that you have finally come to realize it,” he said, winking at her.

  She lowered her lashes coyly and he smiled broader, taking her arm and leading her back up the street from the direction they had come.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sir George had entwined himself in Dustin’s hair and refused to come out. He sat on the collar of her cloak, completely covered by her thick mane and screamed every time she tried to remove him.

  Even now, back in their apartments, she could not coax him forward and told her irritated husband that George would come out when he was ready.

  Resigning his wife to her fate, which would probably include a case of monkey warts, Christopher moved beyond the situation and ordered the nooning meal, albeit an hour late. He sent a soldier to find his knights, including Marcus, and request their presence at the meal. He then proceeded to remove his armor, eyeing his wife as she tried to talk to the monkey in the polished bronze mirror.

  “Sweetheart, I need your help,” he told her, holding out his arms so she could help him remove his hauberk.

  Dustin pulled off the heavy mail and let it fall to the floor. His quilted shirt underneath was wet with perspiration and his hair was slicked with moisture.

  “Why don’t you change into clean clothing?” she suggested helpfully.

  “Why?” he asked, moving to pour himself a goblet of wine. “The clothes would simply become soiled just as these are since I am going to fight all afternoon.”

  “But you smell,” she pointed out bluntly. “And I, for one, find it unappetizing.”

  He raised a blond eyebrow. “You who speaks with a louse-ridden monkey in your hair? If we have to cut all your hair off because of that miniature creature, Dustin, I swear I will kill it.”

  She shushed him loudly. “He will never come out if you say things like that.”

  There was a knock at the door and he moved past her. “It had better be out by tonight or I shall rip it free myself.”

  “Why?” she teased boldly. “Can’t you make love to me with a monkey screaming in your ear? I scream in your ear.”

  He shot her a reproving look and jerked the door open for David, Edward and Leeton. They scarcely had time to enter the room when Dustin was excitedly showing them her latest pet, while Christopher shook his head with resignation. She was more excited about the monkey than she was about the huge diamond ring he had bought her, but he didn’t particularly care. It was a tribute to his wife’s lack of materialistic value and he was pleased all the same.

  “Show them what I bought you, Dustin, if you can spare the time,” he remarked dryly.

  She smiled at him and held up her left hand, shoving the ring right in David’s face. All three knights grunted with approval.

  “A fine ring,” David said. “Jesus, had she been any closer that thing would have knocked my eye out.”

  “Where on earth did you find a monkey, Chris?” Leeton asked, trying to urge the animal out of its hovel.

  “My wife found it,” he replied disinterestedly. “David, did you have the destriers reshod as I asked?”

  “This morning,” his brother replied, picking through Dustin’s hair to get a better look at the monkey.

  Christopher eyed the men as they gingerly lifted his wife’s hair in search of the great hairy beast within.

  “I do not appreciate you manhandling my wife,” he said with disapproval.

  “Chris, if you call this manhandling, then I pity the poor fool who actually ever lays a hand on her,” Edward quipped.

  “He is dead, in fact,” Christopher said, pouring himself more wine. “Where do you think she got the monkey?”

  The knights looked to Dustin in mild surprise and she met their gaze, although her expression was downcast.

  “He was a street peddler and the monkey was on a leash, doing tricks,” she said. “He started to beat the monkey and I could not simply stand by and let him, so I… well, I tried to stop him and he was very rude. In fact, he was so rude that I hit him and we fought.”

  Edward nodded in understanding. “And your husband stepped in and killed him.”

  “Aye,” Dustin said, lowering her gaze, but came back passionately. “I am truly sorry the man is dead, but he was cruel and evil and I had to stop him.”

  Christopher could see that she was becoming agitated. “We know, sweetheart, you were protecting God’s creature,” he pacified her. Then he glanced at the waterclock on the mantle. “Where in the hell is our meal?”

  David was trying to stick his hand underneath Dustin’s hair to remove the monkey when there was another rap on the door. Edward opened it and Marcus came into the room, holding the three puppies against his chest with his good arm.

  “How long have you been back?” he demanded of Dustin. “Do you know that these mongrels have been eating constantly? And pissing all over my floor. I am not a….Jesus, what in the hell is that on your neck?”

  “A monkey,” David said, moving closer to the animal as Leeton pulled her hair back.

  “I can see that.” Marcus put the dogs down. “What is it doing there?”

  “Nesting,” Christopher said. “How’s your hand?”

  “It throbs, but the physician gave me a colwart and boiled willow concoction to ease the pain,” Marcus replied.

  The puppies began to whimper and yelp, running about the room and the monkey suddenly came alive. It bit David and scratched Dustin’s neck as it literally flew onto a chair and then scrambled to the top of a large wardrobe. The puppies continued to yelp and wriggle all over the floor. Every time a puppy would yap, the monkey would scream, as if it were being stabbed. Dustin stood atop a chair as she tried to coax it down.

  Christopher, composed and regal as always, shook his head with disbelief at the chaotic scene in his elegant antechamber. Marcus could not hide his smile and broke into choked giggles every time Edward looked at him. David, meanwhile, was nursing a substantial monkey bite on his finger and wondering aloud if he was going to die from it.

  As havoc ensued in the room, the two maids bustled into the chamber with several kitchen servants in tow, setting out the nooning meal on the large oak table by the hearth. Dustin yelled at the servants to close the door so the dogs wouldn’t escape while Christopher and his knights moved for the table, preparing to feast. Dud and Trent, the last two knights to join the disorder, almost had the door slammed in their faces by a servant eager to do Lady de Lohr’s bidding.

  Dustin could see that the monkey was frightened and decided to leave it be. Snatching the puppies, she handed them over to the maids and asked that the women feed them and take them outside so they wouldn’t pee all over the polished floor. She would retain a couple of the kitchen servants to serve the meal and, with an exhausted sigh she sat heavily at her husband’s left hand.

  Christopher was already well into his meal of roast mutton, baked apples and stewed vegetables. The others, too, had dug in with gusto and Dustin followed suit. She ate and listened to the men, relieved to the core that Marcus and her husband were acting as if nothing was amiss, as if the heavy bandages on Marcus’ arm were nonexistent. She wondered if it were all an act, keeping up a front for the sake of Richard and his vassals, but she didn’t think so. Mayhap they would forgive and forget sooner th
an she hoped. It was almost too good to ask for.

  She was so busy eating and listening to her husband that she neglected to see the monkey scoot off the cabinet. The very next thing she realized, George was sitting on the end of the table by Leeton and Dud. He nearly had heart failure when he looked up and saw the little creature pick an apple off his trencher. Dustin shushed the knights sternly when they started to laugh and throw food at the monkey. Like small boys, they obeyed the female command. The monkey ended up sitting on the edge of Dud’s trencher and ate everything but the meat.

  When the meal was over, Christopher got his men moving for they all had bouts to fight, getting in the last bit of practice before the tournament tomorrow. Dustin left the monkey in the apartments but clutched the puppies as she followed the men down to the arena and seated herself comfortably in the lists, much more excited to watch than she had been earlier. As the dogs fumbled about and explored, she was riveted on the field before her.

  She was surprised to see Marcus swing a sword against Trent, obviously instructing the young man. He clutched the blade in his left hand, maneuvering it as expertly as he did with his right. She knew Marcus to be skilled, and she should have realized that his talents were well-rounded. He had joked about learning to fight with his left hand. What she didn’t understand was that he already knew how to fight with it.

  But as she watched him, a new set of fears clutched at her; if he were still able to fight, would he then be fighting her husband on the morrow? If not, did the prince know Marcus was still functional and would he, in fact, force Marcus to fight, broken hand and all?

  She chewed her lip with worry, noticing that the field was quickly filling with people. Knights on horseback with huge jousting poles, squires, various servants and grooms were all about the field like busy insects. Christopher and his men were over to her far left under a group of trees and she could see that the squires were helping them with their armor and weapons.

  Christopher’s squire was a tall, well-built blond-haired boy that she had seen but three or four times. He had never spoken a word to her and she had been too busy with her own problems to notice him, but she watched him now and how he deftly handled her husband’s possessions, and she made a mental note to at least discover the boy’s name.