And she looked like a disheveled pauper.
“Emilie, look who has come to see you,” Lyle said as Emilie sat there in speechless shock. “Sir David has come all the way from London to visit with you but he cannot stay long. Greet the man before I die of shame, Emilie. Say something.”
Emilie, her cheeks pink with embarrassment, managed to emit a noise that sounded somewhat like a gasp. “My lord,” she breathed as she stood up, trying to smooth out her damp dress. “I… I am surprised to see you. Welcome… welcome to Canterbury.”
David simply grinned; she he’d caught sight of the woman, he hadn’t stopped grinning. In her loose fitting dress, red cheeks, and mussed hair, he’d never seen anything so lovely in his entire life. Sweet and silky tones.
The voice of an angel.
Jesus, he’d missed it!
“Thank you,” he said. “I see that my visit finds you frolicking by the lake you once spoke of.”
Emilie simply nodded. Lyle, seeing how stunned and off-guard she was, thought it might be better to leave her alone with David. It was often difficult to express one’s glee in the unexpected appearance of a lover with an audience, and most especially with her father watching. Lyle waved a hand at Lillibet.
“Come away from there,” he told her. “Let the two of them alone. I am sure they have much to say to each other than we need not hear.”
Dutifully, Lillibet followed Lyle away, leaving Emilie standing in stunned silence as David smiled at her. As Lillibet and Lyle walked away, moving towards the lake where Natalie and Elise frolicked, David moved closer to Emilie, drinking in that lovely, flushed face.
“You are more beautiful that I had remembered,” he said. “It is very agreeable to see you again.”
Emilie let out a harsh gasp. “I did not know you were coming,” she lamented. “I was not at the keep to properly greet you, properly dressed. Instead you find me looking unkempt and slovenly. I pray you can forgive me. This is not how I would usually greet you.”
His smile broadened. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, in any state of dress,” he said. “You could be covered with mud and I would still say the same thing. You needn’t worry about how you appear to me.”
Emilie grinned, embarrassed, chuckling because he was starting to. “So you sought to come and see me after all of these months?” she asked. “I was wondering if you ever would. I thought we would just be writing missives back and forth for the rest of our lives.”
He snorted. “Nay, lady,” he said. “I told you I would come and visit you. I came as soon as I could.”
Her smile faded as she looked at him, rather adoringly. Now that the shock of his unexpected appearance had worn off, she was incredibly glad to see him.
“I know,” she said softly. “I know you have been very busy as of late. Your missives said so. If you will allow me to return to the keep and change into something more pleasing, I would love to have a long and detailed conversation with you. I am so pleased that you have finally come.”
He shook his head and went to her, reaching out to gently grasp her arm. “Sit down,” he said. “There is no need to change your clothing. Let us sit right here and speak. I do not want to waste one moment returning you to the keep. I would be greedy and soak up every second I can with you.”
It was such a sweet thing to say. Giddy, Emilie permitted him to help her sit back down in the grass while he stretched out beside her. He positioned himself very close to her while she sat, cross-legged. All the while, they couldn’t seem to take their eyes off of one another.
“So you have come,” she murmured.
“I have.”
“Did you receive my missives?” she asked. “I was only able to reply to the last three, you know. I told you about it in the first missive I sent to you.”
He nodded. “I know,” he said. “You told me about Brick.”
“Are you angry?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “At you?” he asked. “Of course not. But the next time I see Brickley de Dere, he shall hear of my displeasure. He shall feel it, too.”
Emilie couldn’t argue with him. “He heard enough from me,” she said. “I am sure hearing from you would not make much difference.”
David’s gaze lingered on her. “What did you tell him?”
She pulled a blade of grass, toying with it. “I told him that I would never trust him again,” she said. “I told him that even if I had never met you, there would still never be any chance for him and I. I simply do not look at him that way and there is nothing he can do to change my mind.”
David pondered that a moment. “It is difficult for a man to accept when a woman wants nothing to do with him,” he said. “I can only imagine how I would feel if you had ignored me.”
Emilie grinned, still fidgeting with the blade of grass. “I would never ignore you,” she said firmly. “In fact, I have thought about you a great deal since we last saw one another. How have you been these past several months? What can you tell me about your life and travels that you did not tell me in your missives?”
He stretched out on his back, folding his arms casually behind his head and gazing up at her. “Not much more than the usual nonsense,” he said. “You know that I have seen battle fairly steadily since January. This is the first break we have seen in that time so Chris has gone back to Lioncross to see his wife and I told him I would visit with you briefly before following. The fate of England rests with me, you know. My brother cannot make a move without me.”
Emilie giggled. “Well can I understand that,” she said. “I would not make a move without you, either.”
David grinned because she was. “You flatter me, my lady.”
She shook her head. “It is not flattery,” she said. “It is the truth. You are the greatest knight in the realm, are you not?”
He shrugged. “One of them.”
She laughed. “Thy modesty is astounding.”
She was so lovely when she laughed. David was enchanted by it. “I will tell you a secret.”
“What?”
“I have no modesty.”
She simply shook her head, her laughter fading. “You have every right to be proud and boastful,” she said. “You have earned that right. You have done many great things in your life, I am sure.”
He shrugged. “Great,” he said. “And not so great. I am no different from any man.”
As Emilie looked at him, she recalled those months back with Dennis de la Londe had cornered her at the prince’s great mask. He is not the man he says he is, demoiselle, Dennis had said. He murders women and children. Oddly enough, she really hadn’t thought much about that until now, until David spoke of great deeds and not so great deeds. Now, she was curious about it. When Dennis had mentioned that odd sounding name, Ayyadieh, David hadn’t denied knowing about it. He hadn’t denied anything.
Perhaps she wanted to know about it. Perhaps she wanted to truly see the man’s character.
“May I ask you a question?” she asked.
David nodded. “You may always ask me any question,” he said. “I will always tell you what I can.”
“Truthfully?”
“I do not lie.”
She shook her head, quickly, as if to ease him. “I did not mean to suggest that you would,” she said. “I know you will always be truthful with me. But you just mentioned that you had committed great deeds and some that are not so great. Did you mean Ayyadieh?”
David’s warm expression faded. “Aye.”
Emilie could see that the subject was not a welcome one but she felt compelled to ask. “I only heard of it when Dennis the Destroyer mentioned it,” she said. “Was he lying when he said you and your brother murdered women and children?”
David thought about just how much to tell her. It was a complex situation, one that warranted more than a cursory explanation. Had he and Christopher killed women and children? The answer was not so simple. Much happened in war, the planned and the unplanned. A
lthough he really didn’t want to confide in her, he couldn’t avoid the question. She would think he was hiding something. Still, he was afraid that she would not want to be married to him if she knew the truth of it.
Jesus, he hoped that wasn’t the case.
“The situation was much more complex that Dennis made it out to be,” he said quietly, rolling on to his side and propping his head up on his hand. “War is a bitter and ugly thing, Emilie. It spares no one. Three years in the Holy Land was truly hell in many a sense. One out of every two Christian soldiers died of disease. Hunger was common. Richard, although he is my king as well as my friend, fought some battles that were not particularly ethical and Ayyadieh was one of them. But ethics in warfare are often put aside when one is attempting to win a battle.”
Emilie was listening carefully. “So what happened at Ayyadieh?”
David reached out a hand, his big index finger brushing against the tender skin of her right wrist. It was a sweet, affectionate gesture. It was also a gesture meant to soften the blow of what he was about to say.
“Something I am not particularly proud of,” he said. “Dennis was there. He participated, as well as many other knights. After the fall of Acre, the Christian armies had a great many Saracen prisoners. But the commander of the enemy armies, Saladin, held one of the great treasures of Christendom – the cross upon which Jesus Christ was crucified. Richard offered to exchange Saracen prisoners for the cross but Saladin delayed his response. We found out it was because another Saracen army was approaching and Saladin hoped to use that army to recapture Acre from the Christians. That is one of the many things Saladin did to stall us and Richard became enraged, ordering the killing of the Saracen captives in full view of Saladin and his armies. This also meant executing the retainers of the prisoners, which were often their wives and children.”
By this time, Emilie was looking at him with horror. “Did you actually do it?”
David could see her fear and perhaps even revulsion. He was careful in his answer. “Richard was enraged, which was not an usual state with him,” he said quietly. “Although I take no issue in executing prisoners of war, men who would just as easily kill me were the situation reversed, I refused what I considered a dishonorable order from Richard to kill the retainers. Christopher refused as well, as did several other English knights. But the French knights, Dennis de la Londe included, did not refuse and in fact too particular glee in killing men, women, and children.”
Emilie had such sadness in her eyes. “How many people were killed?”
David thought back to that horrific and particularly bloody event. “Around three thousand total,” he said quietly. “Emilie, I know that you do not understand warfare. You have lived a pleasant life and for that, I am glad. You have lived a life that most of us would love to live. But I have not lived that life; I have seen the worse that mankind has to offer. I have seen death and destruction and the pure hell of man’s determination to murder in the name of religion. I cannot say I am particularly pious after what I have seen accomplished in the name of God. It is a guilt I carry, I suppose. Guilt that I, too, have killed in the name of God. Somehow, I am not particularly certain God really wanted us to do that.”
Emilie could see that he was baring his soul to her and she was surprised. It was a very introspective view of what had been touted in England as a great holy quest to the land of Christ, held by the barbarians. Through David’s eyes, it was much more than that. There was blood and death and terror there, the terrible things he had done and witnessed. She was deeply touched by his honesty, raw as it had been. Somehow, the admission made her feel much closer to him, honored that he would confide in her.
“You did what you had to do,” she said softly. “You did what you were ordered to do and what you had to do in order to survive. I do not believe God will fault you for that.”
David’s thoughts lingered on Ayyadieh a moment longer before forcing himself away from those hellish recollections. He forced a smile at her.
“Mayhap not,” he said. “And then I come back to England and straight into a tournament were some fool tried to kill me in front of my favored lady. Battle and death follows me wherever I go, it seems.”
Emilie reached out, clasping the big fingers that were by her wrist. “But it has not followed you here,” she reassured him. “Did I hear Papa correctly when he said that you could not remain with us very long?”
He nodded, holding her fingers gently, caressing them. “I must leave on the morrow,” he said. “I must return to Lioncross, which is near Hereford. My brother will be expecting me.”
Emilie held to his fingers tightly now. “And when shall I see you again after that?”
David shook his head. “I do not know,” he said softly. “It could be weeks or months. Much depends on what John is up to and when Richard shall be returning from captivity. But know that I will come for you as soon as I can. I will not stay away from you any longer than I have to.”
Emilie smiled, that delighted and warm gesture that was one step away from shouting to the heavens for the happiness in one’s heart.
“Then let us spend all of this time together,” she said. “I will send one of the soldiers back to the castle for our fishing lines. Would you like to fish now? It is a peaceful thing to do. We can speak more on your adventures in the Holy Land, at least the ones you are fond of. I would like to see the world through your eyes, David. They are wise eyes.”
More flattery and he soaked it up. She had a way of making him feel as if he was the most important man in the world. Perhaps that was what he liked so much about her. Or was it that he loved that about her? Love. Such a strong word. It was a word that, once given, could not be taken back. As much as he adored Emilie, he wasn’t sure he could speak that word to her. At least, not now.
Yet, as he gazed into her eyes, he could feel it on the tip of his tongue.
It was a great dilemma, indeed, in a relationship that had been full of them.
*
Supper that evening was a festive affair.
An enormous knuckle of beef was the main dish but it was accompanied by the five fish that David and Emilie had caught in their afternoon of fishing, and the cook had prepared the fish by roasting them over an open flame so the entire hall smelled of cooked fish. Canterbury actually had two halls; a giant separate building in a corner of the bailey for more formal feasts and a smaller one inside the keep that the family used. The smaller hall was the biggest room in the keep with big stone columns, now warmly lit as the food was arranged upon the big feasting table that was heavier than ten men. Lyle’s grandfather had actually commissioned the table and local craftsmen built it inside the room. It was a permanent fixture, for it could never leave the hall except in pieces.
David and Emilie sat together as Lyle, seated next to David, ordered the servants to place the food where David could get at it. He was their guest and it was clear that Lyle was giving him first selection of everything. Along with the beef and fish, the cook had exercised her culinary talents – there were meat pies, called graves, that hid a delightful array of beef and vegetables in gravy inside once one burst through the hard crust at the top of the ‘grave’. There were also little cakes called bryndons with fruit and nuts in them, surrounded by a sweet wine sauce, and there was a cheese pie called a sambocade that was a mixture of cheese, eggs, and dried elderflowers, baked in a crust.
David particularly liked the sambocade and ate the entire pie before anyone really had a chance to have any of it. Nathalie and Elise frowned that their sweet treat had been eaten out from under them but Lyle shook his head at them, silently admonishing them not to complain before they could say anything. Elise, seated at the end of the table with her wooden people on the table around her, all of them facing her trencher, was particularly unhappy about it. It was her wooden people’s favorite thing to eat, so she whispered to Nathalie.
So she fed her people the bryndons instead, but Nathalie wasn’t so a
pt to keep her mouth shut. She kept frowning at David, who met her gaze coolly over the top of the table. They had mostly stayed clear of one another since his arrival but now, they were thrown together. There was a battle brewing between them; Nathalie could feel it in the air. Her father and older sister were quite happy to have David de Lohr as a guest, but she wasn’t. She found him arrogant. She’d hoped that dog shite in his helm those months ago might have scared him off, but here he was, back again and making a nuisance of himself, as Emilie hung on his every word.
“I will have to ask if there are any more sweet pies in the kitchen,” Nathalie said boldly, making a point of looking at David as she spoke. “Someone seems to have eaten this one.”
Lyle hissed at his middle daughter. “Be still,” he told her. “David is our guest. If he wants to eat this entire table, then he is welcome to it.”
David gave Nathalie a droll expression, as if to taunt her that he had Lyle’s support and she did not. Moreover, he was planning his vengeance; there was the little matter of revenge for the dog shite in his helm, and revenge on this night was particularly sweet as he plowed through the treats on the table that Nathalie and her sister seemed to very much want. He’d figured that out early on, which is why he’d eaten everything. He wasn’t going to leave a scrap for those two little brats.
Enraged, Nathalie turned red in the face and grabbed a piece of beef on her plate, shoving it in her mouth and chewing, all the while glaring at David. He simply lifted his cup to her as if to toast a lovely meal. Then he confiscated the bowl containing the bryndons and ate every last one. Elise wailed.
“Quiet!” Lyle said to his youngest daughter as she pointed to the empty bowl where the bryndons used to be. “If you cannot behave politely, then you will go to your chamber and take your meal there. Nathalie, that goes for you as well. Am I clear?”
Emilie, not oblivious to what was going on between her sisters and David, was quickly growing mortified at their behavior. It had been such a lovely day with him, a day of conversation and fishing, of coming to know one another better, and to have it ruined by her two foolish sisters was more than she was willing to bear. Frowning at Nathalie and Elise, she apologized to David.
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 139