A Time of End

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Whenever the Executioner Knights went on a mission, it was usually Alexander in command because he had a natural air of leadership about him and was flawless in his decisions. Technically, Sean may have concocted the plan, but Alexander had commanded the men to it. But Christopher’s final comment had Alexander looking at him strangely.

  “My lord?” he said.

  Christopher looked at him, his eyes glimmering at him. “My daughter says you saved her life,” he said quietly. “That, indeed, deserves a reward. Tell me what you desire and you shall have it.”

  A smile spread across Alexander’s face. He wasn’t sure if Christopher meant Christin, but he suspected he might. Perhaps the man had finally decided to leave his daughter to her happiness, after all. It couldn’t have been an easy thing for Christopher to acknowledge and Alexander understood that. Surely it was difficult for any man to let his daughter go and Alexander hoped to find that out for himself, one day. He hoped to have many sons and daughters with the woman he’d chosen for his wife.

  For the man who had been a loner for most of his life, it was truly a time of end.

  But it was also a time of beginning.

  “My greatest desire is to marry your daughter, my lord,” he said, looking at Christin. “I could imagine no greater honor or blessing.”

  Christopher sighed heavily, realizing that he was, indeed, losing his eldest daughter. It was such a bittersweet moment, but one he had known would come someday. He simply wasn’t ready for it, even if she was all grown up. David came to stand next to him and put a brotherly hand on his shoulder.

  “Welcome to the family, Sherry,” David said before Christopher could respond. “Christin could ask for no finer husband.”

  Alexander beamed and so did Christin. Realizing she had her father’s approval, she threw her arms around Alexander’s neck, hugging him tightly as he picked her up and swung her around, joyful beyond measure. As Maxton, Kress, Caius, Bric, and Kevin congratulated the pair on their happiness, Christopher held up a silencing hand.

  “Wait,” he said, getting everyone’s attention. “There is something I must know.”

  Alexander still had Christin in his arms as he looked at Christopher. “What is that, my lord?”

  Christopher cocked an eyebrow in a gesture that looked a good deal like his daughter when she was annoyed. “Are you going to force her to give up serving The Marshal?” he asked. “I do not mind you doing it, or Peter doing it, but for my daughter… I would feel better if she did not. But, of course, the decision is yours.”

  Alexander chuckled. “Then you know?”

  “I know about The Ghost.”

  Alexander looked at Christin. “Tell your father what you told me.”

  Christin let go of Alexander and went to her father, her eyes glimmering with the mirth of the situation. So the man knew about her service to The Marshal? She knew he’d find out, eventually. At least he wasn’t screaming about it. But she wondered if he had when he’d first been told.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t going to have to worry about it any longer.

  “I told him that I would prefer to be Lady de Sherrington and let that be glory enough in my life rather than serving in The Marshal’s ranks,” she said. “Truly, Papa, that is the best life I can imagine. Serving The Marshal had its moments and I felt I was making a difference as few women can claim. And mayhap, someday, I shall do it again. But not now. It is time to retire The Ghost for the time being. I am content to be Lady de Sherrington.”

  Christopher could see the utter delight in her features as she spoke of becoming Alexander’s wife. He smiled at her, patting her hands. “Are you certain, Cissy?”

  “I have never been more certain in my life.”

  Christopher kissed her on the forehead, taking one last look at his daughter before he gave her off to another man. “Then it seems my decision is made,” he said. He looked at Alexander. “She is yours, Sherry. Pray treat her right or I will do to you what you did to FitzRoy.”

  Alexander chuckled, knowing it was the zeal of a father speaking but that there was also some truth to it. “No need to worry, my lord,” he said. “Or may I all you Papa?”

  “You may not.”

  “Father?”

  “Nay.”

  By this time, Christin was far gone with giggles and Alexander was pretending as if he were very hurt. “Then what am I to call you? My lord seems terribly formal.”

  Christopher waved a dismissive hand at him. “We have time to decide.”

  “I much prefer Dada.”

  Everyone was laughing at that point. Christopher shook his head at the lot of them. “You are a ridiculous fool,” he said to Alexander. “But you are a fool my daughter clearly loves. As David said – welcome to the family, Sherry.”

  It seemed that Alexander had been waiting all his life to hear those words but he didn’t realize that until now. He would soon take a wife and with her came a great, noble family who loved each other deeply. His father-in-law was perhaps one of the greatest knights who had ever lived and there was tremendous honor in that.

  But no greater honor than in the bride herself.

  She was quite a woman.

  As Christopher and David headed out of the livery, going to see to their captive army and Sean’s delivery, the rest of the knights trickled out of the livery one at a time, each one personally congratulating Alexander and Christin until only Maxton was left. He approached Alexander, taking the man’s hand and smiling wearily into his face.

  “Marrying my wife was the best thing I have ever done, Sherry,” he said. “My advice to you is to let your wife rule your heart and your home. You will be a much happier man for it.”

  Alexander smiled in return, holding the man’s hand for a moment. He considered Maxton one of his dearest friends and since Maxton wasn’t good with sentiment, he knew the effort it had taken for the man to speak from his heart.

  “You and I have known each other many years, Maxton,” he said. “I remember when you married Andressa. I remember thinking you had been somehow weakened by falling in love with a woman, but now I realize how wrong I was.”

  Maxton snorted softly, gave Alexander’s hand a squeeze, and headed out of the livery, following the path of the others as they headed to The Cock and Bull. When they were finally alone, Alexander turned to Christin, noting that she appeared particularly pensive.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She cocked her head thoughtfully. “I have been thinking.”

  “Of what?”

  “Ramsbury.”

  “What about it?”

  She looked at him pointedly. “Because this whole situation started when the French spy told me that there was a threat from within, right under our noses. We went to Norwich, which we had to go to, anyway, but everything seemed to take off from there and we never did discover if there was a threat against John from within.”

  “And?”

  “And I think that the king does not need anyone trying to kill him when he is so willing to destroy England himself,” she said. “Look at what he has done – he was willing to marry me to his bastard son, knowing my father would try to destroy him for it. It would have torn England apart.”

  A smile spread across Alexander’s face. “You are coming to the conclusion that the rest of us are,” he said. “John is his own worst enemy. It is difficult to protect a man from himself, but that is the duty we find ourselves with. All of The Marshal’s agents.”

  “Then you do not think one of the allies is a threat? Someone who might have been at the celebration at Norwich?”

  Alexander shrugged. “It is difficult to say,” he said. “But I don’t believe the French spy had anyone in particular in mind when she said that. I am coming to think she truly did mean the king himself.”

  That made sense to Christin. She wrapped her hands around his big forearm, smiling up at him.

  “Then you can figure it out,” she said. “I will be busy being Lady de Sherrin
gton.”

  “May I seek your advice on such things, then?”

  “I would be honored, my lord.”

  He laughed softly and patted her hand. “Very well, then,” he said. “Now that we have that straightened out, what now? Shall we find a church and marry?”

  Her eyes widened. “God’s Bones, we shall not,” she said, pulling him out of the livery. “If you fear my father, my mother will be twice as terrifying if we marry and she is not present. For now, we return to Lioncross Abbey, tell my mother that we have permission to marry, and let her plan such a thing. It is her right, as my mother.”

  He grinned lazily as she pulled him out into the street. “Whatever you wish,” he said. “But I will again ask the question – what do we do now?”

  Christin came to a stop, looking down the road towards the south, seeing her father and uncle in the distance as they went to find the army. The sun was just starting to rise, the dawn of a beautiful new day, and all was right with the world.

  It was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

  “I could use food and sleep like the others,” she said. “You?”

  He nodded. “I am suitably weary,” he said. “But your father will be seeing to the army for at least an hour, I would think. There is much to see to. I wonder what we could do with that hour?”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling when she realized what he meant. “Really, Sherry,” she scolded softly. “Is that all you think about?”

  His smile faded and his dark eyes took on a glimmer that was as warm and pure as when the world was new. A new day, a new life, a new wife.

  “Aye,” he whispered. “It is all I think about. You are all I think about, Christin de Lohr. I love you more than I could have ever anticipated.”

  Her eyes immediately began to well. “And I love you. Until the end of all things, I will.”

  His reply was to take her in his arms, out in the middle of the street, and kiss her deeply as the sun rose.

  They put the following hour to good use.

  And Christopher was none the wiser.

  EPILOGUE

  Six Months Later

  Ashdown Manor

  Christin had her eyes on him.

  It wasn’t that he’d been showing any signs of nerves or angst during their journey from Lioncross Abbey to Ashdown, because he hadn’t. He’d been even tempered and normal as far as she could see. But there was something in his dark eyes that conveyed apprehension no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

  Apprehension at seeing his father for the first time in twenty years.

  It was just the two of them on this journey because that’s the way he wanted it. Christopher had offered to let him take men-at-arms with him, as many as he wanted, but Alexander had declined. When he faced his father, he wanted it to be only him and Christin. He didn’t need an escort or a gallery of witnesses.

  It was a surprisingly fine day for travel given the season, with a bright sky and the greenery of spring covering the land. The topography was relatively flat but for a few rises now and again, and heavily agricultural. The fields that they passed were covered with shaggy cows, dairy and beef herds as Alexander had explained. He seemed to be pleased that he was back in the area of his birth, pointing out homes or fields or small hills as they passed them, telling her of adventures or memories of his youth.

  All the while, Christin simply smiled and listened.

  But the chatter was covering up his nerves and she knew that. He spoke of Warminster, which was not far to the northwest, and he spoke of the ponies he and his younger brothers would ride in the fields in spite of their father telling them not to. In the dead of winter, he said. He laughed as he spoke of Andrew being tossed off into a freezing brook and how he was the one who had been punished for the folly.

  The memory still brought smiles.

  But their journey to Ashdown was for a reason. Alexander had finally decided to face his father, to reconcile with the man, and to assume his rightful place as Phillip’s heir. He felt strongly that Christin deserved a home of her own, although she assured him that she’d not married him simply to gain a home, but Alexander had been insistent. He wanted to do everything he could for her and for their unborn child. Christin was two months along in her pregnancy and feeling splendidly, but the coming of a son had Alexander in nesting mode.

  He wanted a home for his son – his heir.

  But there was more to it. Now that he had a child on the way, he’d put himself in his father’s position and he could understand what it would mean to him if he and his own child became estranged. That gave him a perspective he’d never had before and he was eager to make amends for his foolishness.

  He only hoped his father could forgive him.

  They were drawing closer to Ashdown, as evidenced by the fact that Alexander kept craning his neck to see through a copse of trees they were coming to on the west side of the road. He stopped the chatter, too. They came around a bend and, immediately, a large manor home came into view.

  Christin looked at Alexander, who seemed riveted to the sight. She didn’t even have to ask if it was his home because she could see that it was from the expression on his face. As they drew closer, she could see the great walls surrounding the place and a speckling of flowering trees on the land beyond the walls.

  Flowers were everywhere.

  The manse itself was built from pale stone, the second floor peeking over the tops of the walls. There was a small moat surrounding it, but the small drawbridge was open, as was the entrance gate, and there were people moving in and out. Some were tending the flowering trees but there was also a field across the road, growing vegetables, and there were several people tending the field as dogs ran about, protecting the field from invaders, both animal and human.

  In fact, as Alexander and Christin rode up, one of the dogs ran forward, barking, as a young boy ran up behind the dog with a bow and arrow in his hands. He couldn’t have been more than ten years of age.

  “Halt!” the boy said. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  Alexander looked at the lad with some amusement. “I have come seeking Phillip de Sherrington,” he said. “Will you please tell me where I can find him?”

  The boy’s brow furrowed. “Why do you want him?”

  “Will you please tell me where he is?”

  The boy was growing confused because the man wasn’t giving him any answers. Then, he turned his head, shouting at the field behind him.

  “Mam!” he bellowed. “Mam!”

  A woman at the edge of the field turned in answer to his summons, setting aside her hoe and making her way over to him. The boy, still with the bow and arrow semi-pointed at Alexander, scampered his way back to the woman, pointing to Alexander and whispering to her. She brushed her hands off on her broadcloth skirts as she approached.

  “I understand you are looking for Phillip de Sherrington?” she said.

  Alexander nodded. “Aye.”

  “Are you a friend?”

  Alexander hesitated. Not knowing who the woman was, he didn’t want to tell her too much. “You could say that,” he said. “If I could see him, he will know me.”

  The woman smiled politely. “Do you have business with him?”

  Alexander shook his head. “It is a social call.”

  The woman nodded, taking a step or two closer so she wasn’t speaking loudly for all to hear. “I am sorry, but my husband died last year,” she said. “May I be of service to you?”

  Alexander felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. Not only had his father died, but he’d evidently remarried. In truth, he shouldn’t have been surprised by either of those things considering how long he’d been away, but they were still a blow. Grief swept him.

  But so did something else.

  Realization.

  The young boy had called the woman “Mam”.

  “I am sorry for your loss, Lady de Sherrington,” he said. “I did not know.”

  The woman mai
ntained her polite smile. “It was swift,” she said. “An illness took him from us.”

  “And the lad,” he said. “He is yours?”

  The woman’s smile turned genuine. “Aye,” she said. “He is Phillip’s son, Alexander. He was named for Phillip’s eldest son who was killed in The Levant. If you knew Phillip, then mayhap you knew his eldest, Alexander.”

  Alexander couldn’t help the genuine shock. He turned to look at Christin, who was looking at him with great sympathy. For a moment, Alexander had no idea what he should say or do. He’d come to seek his father and got far more than he bargained for. More than that, he realized there would be no forgiveness, no reconciliation. His father had died thinking his one remaining son had died without ever seeking him out again.

  It was a horrible thing he’d done to his father.

  “The manse,” he finally said, his chest tight with emotion. “It… it looks as if it has been prosperous in spite of Phillip’s death.”

  He said it because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, under the circumstances. But the woman nodded.

  “It is a wonderful place,” she said. “Alexander has a younger sister and it has been an honor to raise Phillip’s children here. I am sorry, my lord… I did not hear your name?”

  Alexander looked at her. What could he say? She had a bucolic life with Alexander and his little sister, clearly the heirs of his father’s estate. It legally belonged to him, but he’d been gone for so long that his father had believed him dead and had remarried. And rightfully so. He’d even named his firstborn son with his new wife Alexander, after him, which broke Alexander’s heart. What he had put his father through was unforgiveable and he could see that now.

  He didn’t deserve Ashdown or anything about it.

  It belonged to young Alexander and his little sister.

  “This is my wife, Lady Christin de Lohr,” he said after a moment.