Shield of Kronos

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Wandering away from the main gate and passing a glare or two at John’s seedy men around the entry, he continued on along the crowds of people who were waiting to enter. There were soldiers everywhere and knights. In fact, off to his right, he could see a knight being rather rough with a lovely young woman, who seemed quite terrified. As Garret watched, the man yanked on the girl and she dropped whatever she was carrying. The men standing around weren’t trying to help the girl in the least. In fact, they were laughing at her fear. Being that Garret took his oath to protect the weak seriously, he headed in that direction, reaching the pair just as the woman bit the man on the hand. Seeing that the situation was about to deteriorate, Garret put himself between the terrified young woman and the knight.

  “Find someone else to annoy,” he rumbled, his deep voice bubbling up from the very ground upon which he stood.

  The knight with the teeth marks in his fingers glared at Garret. “This is none of your affair,” he said. “You have no right to interfere.”

  Garret’s gaze moved to the other men standing around, men now posturing that their friend’s fun had been cut short. Hand on the hilt of his broadsword, he took a step back and turned slightly so he was looking at the young woman. Clutching golden slippers to her chest, she had her head down.

  “What is this man to you, my lady?” he asked her. “Is he your husband?”

  The woman shook her head, almost violently, but she didn’t answer.

  “Father?” Garret asked.

  Again, she shook her head but no answer. Wondering why she wasn’t speaking, he tried one last time.

  “Brother?” he asked. “Cousin? Is this man anything to you, my lady?”

  She shook her head again, wiping quickly at the tears in her eyes, and Garret found his gaze moving over the woman. Dressed in a blue silk that clung to her figure, she was quite stunning. The swell of her pale breast rose above the neckline of the garment she wore, up and down, as she breathed quickly. He could also see that she was trembling and he took pity on her. Reaching out, he grasped her gently by the arm.

  “Then I shall escort you into the hall personally,” he told her. “I promise that no one will molest you, my lady.”

  The knight who had been bitten was outraged. “You will not take her,” he boomed. “Who do you think you –?”

  He was cut off by a massive fist flying into his face, sending him hurling to the ground. Garret had lashed out even as he escorted the terrified woman to the gate, not missing a step as he went. It was all quite casual to him and quite easy. As the lady’s assailant hit the dirt and the man’s colleagues gathered around him, infuriated but no so infuriated that they would challenge the massive knight with the wicked punch, Garret continued along his way, a firm grip on the lady’s elbow, as if nothing in the world was amiss.

  But the woman was looking over her shoulder, flabbergasted at the sight of her accoster sprawled on the road. Her knight in shining armor had not only protected her, he’d punished the man who had tried to molest her. Shocked at the vision of her assailant wallowing on the ground, she turned her astonished gaze to the enormous knight at her side.

  “Y-you struck him!” she gasped.

  Garret didn’t look at her. They were approaching the gate and he had more important things on his mind as he saw John’s men standing there, shooting daggers from their eyes at him.

  “So you can speak?” he said calmly. “Since you would not answer me, I was not for certain that you knew how.”

  The woman was torn between his chivalrous deed and what seemed to border on an insult. “O-Of course I can speak,” she said. “W-Why did you hit him?”

  “Would you prefer that I left you there to be mauled by him? I can just as easily take you back.”

  The mere thought sent terror racing through her. “N-Nay,” she said nervously. “I-I do not know who he was. He simply grabbed me and would not let me go.”

  They were passing through the gate at that point and Garret took her through, ignoring the nasty stares in his direction from John’s men. Although he pretended to be focused on their destination, he was, in truth, thinking on the lady and the catch in her speech. It would explain why she had been afraid to speak at first. Only when he was out of their earshot did he reply.

  “A beautiful woman walking alone is an invitation for unsavory men, my lady,” he replied. “Why were you walking alone?”

  She indicated the slippers in her arms. “B-Because my lady forgot this tribute for Hawisa’s party,” she said. “S-She sent me to retrieve it. T-The soldiers with the carriage are caught back in that mass of guests so they told me to get out of the carriage and hurry into the hall. I-I suppose they did not think that I would come to harm since I was so close to our destination.”

  Garret snorted. “With so many men between you and the great hall?” he said, incredulous. “They are fools. I would not have let you out of my sight and I intend not to let you out of my sight until I escort you straight to your party.”

  The woman gazed up at him, perhaps taking a good look at him for the very first time. This kind of chivalry was rare these days, rarer still in her world. In fact, it was difficult for her to believe him completely. She hoped she hadn’t left one bad situation for a worse one.

  “Y-You are most kind, my lord,” she said, sounding calmer now but with a hint of doubt in her voice. “W-What is your name?”

  Garret looked at her, which was a mistake; as luscious as her figure was, she had a face that would make the angels jealous. Wide hazel eyes, a rosebud mouth, and a dusting of freckles on her pert nose. He’d never seen such beauty and, for a brief moment, he was actually speechless. One could not absorb all of that beauty and not be dumbfounded by it. It was an effort to reply to her.

  “I am Sir Garret,” he said after a moment. “I fear there is no one to properly introduce us, so I will boldly ask your name as well.”

  “L-Lyssa du Bose,” she replied. “T-Thank you, Sir Garret, for saving me on this night. W-Without your intervention, it is difficult to say what the outcome would have been. Y-You have my deepest gratitude.”

  Lyssa. A beautiful name that suited her. “The next time your foolish soldiers tell you to strike out on your own, do not listen,” he told her. “What party are you with?”

  “I am a lady to the Duchess of Colchester.”

  That drew a reaction from Garret and he came to a halt, still holding on to her elbow. “Colchester?” he repeated. “Then you know my brother, Rickard de Moray.”

  Lyssa’s features lit up. “I-I do, indeed,” she said, not nearly as hesitant or doubtful as she had been only moments earlier. “H-His wife, Lady Tristiana, is my friend. I-I did not know Sir Rickard had a brother!”

  Garret had to admit that he was fairly pleased to realize he and Lady Lyssa had some common ground. It gave him a reason to continue the conversation.

  “He does, indeed,” he said. “In fact, I was just looking for my brother when I came across you. I can now say for certain that my brother and I are going to have a discussion about those idiot soldiers who let you wander alone.”

  A smile spread across her lips and Garret could feel his heart race, just a little. Her smile was as alluring as the rest of her.

  “H-He escorted our group from the duke’s townhome,” she said, “but I have not seen him since. I-It is possible that he is inside with the rest of the party. I-It seems as if everyone in the world is inside the hall at this moment.”

  Garret turned to look at the great hall, with warmth and music flowing from it. It occurred to him that once he took her inside, he might not have a chance to speak with her again. She would be swallowed up by the gaiety and he would be swallowed up by his duties. Garret wasn’t one to be smitten by a woman or distracted from his duties but, at the moment, he was in danger of both. He forced himself to resume their walk as he pondered the situation.

  “Then I shall escort you right to my brother and the Colchester party,” he said. “It will
give me a chance to see my brother, whom I’ve seen very little of over the past few years.”

  Lyssa took up pace beside him. “O-Oh?” she said. “W-Why have you not seen him more?”

  Garret shrugged. “We have both been quite busy,” he said. “I serve in the king’s household guard and Rickard served the Earl of Lincoln before he moved on to Colchester.”

  Lyssa nodded, warming to a subject she knew about. “I-I know,” she said. “L-Lady Tristiana told me all about it. S-She said that Sir Rickard served as a knight for the Earl of Lincoln before the earl gifted him to the Duke of Colchester. She said it was in payment for a debt but Sir Rickard has told everyone that it was at the duke’s request. Oh… mayhap I should not have said that….”

  She was looking at him, chagrinned, and he burst out into soft laughter. “So that is what happened,” he said. “My brother told me that the duke had requested him also. I found that odd, considering all of the knights that England has to offer, that Colchester should ask for my brother’s service. He’s not so great.”

  “H-He isn’t?”

  Garret gave her a half-grin. “I jest. He is very good.”

  Lyssa’s expression was creased with worry. “Y-You will not tell him what I said, will you?” she said. “I-I do not wish for him or Lady Tristiana to be angry with me.”

  Garret shook his head. “Your secret is safe with me, I swear it,” he said. “What else have you heard that my brother has not yet told me?”

  Lyssa flushed; even in the darkness, he could see it. “I-I cannot tell you anymore,” she said, grossly embarrassed. “I-I have already said too much.”

  Garret was still grinning, his gaze lingering on her. He rather liked talking to her, this beautiful woman with the sweet stammer. He found it charming, in truth.

  “I swear to you that I shall not repeat any of it,” he said, trying to entice her into chattering more. “I would never betray your trust, my lady.”

  Lyssa shook her head, looking away. “I-I believe you, my lord, but I still should not speak so. I-It is a terrible habit of mine; sometimes I speak before thinking.”

  “I think you have no terrible habits. In fact, I think you are rather perfect.”

  She looked at him, sharply, and he could see the astonishment in her eyes. Astonishment turned to dismay and perhaps even outrage and, in an instant, she was yanking her arm from his grip.

  “I-I must go,” she said as she scampered away. “The duchess is expecting me.”

  She seemed quite upset and Garret followed close behind, close enough to grab her by the arm again before she could get away.

  “What is it, my lady?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “Why do you run?”

  Lyssa was struggling to pull away from him, her manner much the same as it had been when he’d first come upon her and the man who was molesting her. She was agitated and fighting, perhaps even frightened. He simply couldn’t tell.

  “I-I-I am expected,” she said, her stammer much more evident now that she was upset. “Th… Th… the duchess will be angry with me for having taken so long.”

  Garret should have let her go. He simply should have let her run off and not given her a second thought. But he found that he couldn’t. Their conversation had been so wonderful until just the past few moments. What was it that he’d said? That she had no terrible habits? That he thought she was perfect? Truly, he was at a loss to determine what he’d said that upset her so.

  “I will explain to the duchess your delay,” he said calmly. “My lady, did I say something to offend you? If I have, I am not aware of what it was and I am deeply apologetic. Please know that I would have never knowingly said anything to upset you.”

  She was calming somewhat, perhaps considering his apology, but she still seemed nervous and upset. “I-I am merely anxious to go inside,” she said, keeping her eyes averted. “I-I have been gone overlong and the duchess will not be happy with me. I-I-I do not wish to be punished.”

  Garret knew it wasn’t the truth but he didn’t press her. Instead, he simply took her elbow and headed for the main entry to the great hall, with the doors open wide and the sights and sounds and light pouring from it. He fully intended to escort her inside, find the Colchester party, and explain to the duchess that he had been the reason for Lady Lyssa’s delay. Then he intended to find his brother and find out what the man knew about the lovely woman with the catch in her speech.

  What she wouldn’t, or couldn’t tell him, perhaps his brother would.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “He is the Captain of the Royal Guard! The captain, appointed by King Richard! He is the most powerful knight at Westminster!”

  The young woman seated next to Lyssa was hissing excitedly in her ear as they sat at one of several feasting tables in the great hall of Westminster Palace. Over the noise of the musicians and the rumble of discussion, it was almost impossible to keep a civil tone in conversation, and the words were loudly hissed into Lyssa’s ear. Lifting her hand, she shushed her excited companion, hoping no one else had heard her.

  “H-He was very kind,” she insisted. “H-He saved me from men who were trying to do me great harm. I am sure if he hadn’t come along, the end would have been terrible.”

  Naturally, her companion was sympathetic to that, but the fact that Lyssa had been saved by the great Garret de Moray had her more impressed than anything. Lady Juliana de Nerra knew all about Garret de Moray because her oldest brother, Gavin, served the man within the contingent of royal knights. In fact, her entire family was entrenched in the royal house of England almost more than any other, going back decades.

  Generations of the men in Juliana’s family served the crown of England and her father, Sir Valor de Nerra, currently held the post of Itinerant Justice of Hampshire and Winchester, appointed by Henry II. That meant his children were privileged to receiving excellent appointments and positions. Gavin served with the royal guard while Juliana had been permitted to foster in a royal household in Colchester, and the list went on. It also meant that Juliana knew a great many things about a great many things, including the House of de Moray. Her whole family was wrapped up in the nobility of England on an intimate basis. In fact, Juliana eyed Garret, standing at the end of the table in conversation with his brother. She had a rather interested gleam to her eye.

  “I have heard my brother tell my father about de Moray,” she leaned in to Lyssa now, her gaze still on Garret as she spoke. “He fought in The Levant for Richard and my brother says that the rumor was that he was an immortal soul whose wisdom and skills were ancient. Of all Richard’s knights, no one was more respected than Garret de Moray.”

  Lyssa was looking at Garret, too. She had to admit that she was both impressed and intimidated to hear that. “H-How would you possibly know this?” she demanded, trying not to speak too loudly lest she be overheard. “Y-Your brother was not in The Levant with Richard.”

  Juliana shook her head. “He was not, but he has heard this from others, mostly the de Lohrs,” she said. “And you know that Christopher and David de Lohr know everything.”

  Lyssa glanced at her chatty friend. “Y-You do not know the de Lohrs, do you?”

  She shrugged. “My papa does,” she said. “They have come to visit on occasion and I have been present at the feasts my father has given in their honor. At least, I was present before I came to serve Lady de Nantes. I have never spoken with them, however, but my brother said they served with de Moray in The Levant. Kronos, they called de Moray. The Father of the Gods. Is that not wonderful?”

  Lyssa returned her gaze to the enormous knight at the end of the table. “B-But why did they call him that?”

  “Because even the greatest knights respect his wisdom!”

  That made sense to Lyssa somewhat. Her attention lingered on Garret as he remained in conversation with Gavin. It had been difficult to see his features in the shadowed dusk outside of the hall but now that he was in the light of a thousand tapers, she could see the man quite cle
arly.

  He had black hair and black eyes, and an angular-jawed face that was embraced by a neatly-trimmed beard. The beard had some silver to it, hinting at his age. This was no young knight, a novice among warriors; this was a man of character and experience, and there wasn’t one woman in attendance that hadn’t given him a second look. Experience and reputation aside, Garret de Moray was all shades of handsome.

  Lyssa’s gaze moved from his face, down his broad shoulders, and to his hands. She remembered the size of his hands; they were enormous and when he lifted his hands as he spoke to his brother, she could again see how big they were. Strong. The hands were proportionate to the rest of him, because there was nothing small or feeble about Garret de Moray. He had size, muscles, and power. With that realization, Lyssa was willing to believe everything Juliana had just told her. This was the man who had saved her from those lascivious soldiers.

  She counted herself extremely fortunate.

  “H-How long has he been Captain of the Royal Guard at Westminster?” she finally asked.

  Juliana drained her wine cup and was holding it up for a servant to refill. “At least since he returned from The Levant,” she said. “Everyone returned about four years ago, I think. Gavin did not go because my brother, Gabriel, went and my father could not bear to be parted from both of his older sons. When Gabriel returned, he remained with my father and Gavin came to serve with de Moray at Westminster.”

  Lyssa was still staring at Garret as Juliana spoke but, at that moment, he happened to glance around and caught her looking at him. Embarrassed, Lyssa abruptly lowered her eyes, flushing brightly about the cheeks. Had Juliana not been into her third cup of wine, she probably would have noticed her friend’s chagrin.

  “H-He must have a very fine wife,” Lyssa said, now looking at her trencher. “D-Does he have children?”

  Juliana snorted rudely. “Garret de Moray is the most eligible bachelor in all of England,” she said. “He has had offers from the daughters of dukes and even a princess in France, I have heard. He is either not interested in marriage or extremely picky on a potential wife. I have not yet had the courage to ask my father to offer him my hand because I am sure he will reject me like all the rest.”