Shield of Kronos

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “What’ll it be, m’lord?” the older of the pair asked. She was round, with wild red hair, and missing teeth. “A drink for you and your lady?”

  Garret nodded, setting the trunk on to the ground at his feet and shoving it partially under the table. “What do you have that is good?” he asked. “And I do not mean the cheap product the rest of the room is drinking. What do you have that costs money?”

  The wench’s gaze moved over Garret, then to Lyssa, and back again. She knew customers and could tell that the knight had money to spend. “This lot is drinking ale we brew in the stable,” she said. “It tastes like horses. But for you… there is some good Spanish wine we keep just for men such as yourself.”

  “Bring it. And what do you have to eat?”

  As the younger wench went running for the wine, the older wench cocked her head. “This lot has been eating boiled mutton that’s a week old,” she said, snorting at the thought of people not caring what they were ingesting. “But the tavernkeeper’s wife just made a brymlent. It smells good!”

  Garret frowned. “What is that?”

  Lyssa spoke up. “A-A fish and fruit pie,” she said. “I-If it is made correctly, it is quite good.”

  He looked at her, unsure he wanted to try a fish and fruit pie, but he waved the older wench onward. “Bring that, too,” he said, “and anything else you have in the kitchens that might be good to eat.”

  The older wench sauntered away. As Lyssa watched the singing wenches finish their song, Garret removed his heavy leather gloves and kicked the trunk even further underneath the table. He didn’t want to advertise the fact that he had a trunk full of goods to the thieving rabble that undoubtedly populated a place like this. In fact, he started looking around, seeing the clientele, and turned to Lyssa.

  “I can find a better tavern for you,” he said, trying to press his point again. “I have been to this place before but only with my men, so it did not occur to me that it is not a place for a lady.”

  But Lyssa grinned. “I-I think it is fascinating,” she said. “B-Besides… nothing can happen to me with my protector about. I-I am not concerned.”

  He looked at her and, seeing the smile on her face, gave in to the urge to put his arm around her. He’d been so careful displaying his affection up until this point, or at least moderately careful. But in this establishment full of the dregs of London, he saw no reason not to show his fondness for the lady. He was finished showing restraint. Therefore, a big arm went around her, pulling her chair right up against his.

  “Your faith in me is flattering, my lady,” he said, his voice low as his face came very close to hers. “I shall always endeavor to earn it.”

  Lyssa’s heart was fluttering wildly as his big arm went around her, pulling her close. He was being open with his affections and she was so thrilled with it that she was nearly lightheaded. It was difficult to catch her breath. She found herself staring at his face, the lines of his angular jaw, a dark beard with flecks of silver in it, but it was more of a beard that comes about when a man hasn’t shaved in a few days. It wasn’t a truly cultivated or heavy beard. Just enough to give him a rather rugged look. Somewhere beneath that beard, she could see skin that had been marred by eruptions in his youth, but it didn’t take away from his masculine beauty. And when she looked into those black eyes… eyes blacker than night… it was as if she had no will of her own. It brought something Juliana had once told her to mind.

  “I-I was told that you are called Kronos, the Father of the Gods,” she said. “J-Juliana told me that on the night I met you. L-Looking at you now, it is very easy to believe that.”

  A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged, reaching out a timid hand to touch the beard on his face, finding it scratchy like bristles. “B-Because there is something about you that speaks of power,” she said. “I-I am not sure if I can describe it, but I feel as if… as if you are a man of such depth and experience, that surely a man like that is not finite.”

  Garret took one of her hands and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. As much as Lyssa’s heart was racing, his was racing all the more. She had that effect on him. “I am, indeed, mortal,” he said softly. “A man of mortal feelings and hopes and dreams. Until I met you, I never realized I even had such capabilities.”

  Now, the warmth and attraction that had always been present between them was turning into something more. It was giving them permission to touch one another, to discover each other on a deeper level with a gentle touch or, in Lyssa’s case, with a hand to Garret’s face to feel his beard for the first time. It was exploration in the greatest sense of the word as Garret kissed her fingers again, smiling at her when she tickled his cheek through his scratchy beard. It was excitement and delight in its purest form as two lonely people realized they weren’t alone anymore.

  Now, they had each other.

  “W-What do you hope for, Garret?” she asked, trying not to speak loudly but the noise of the tavern room made the situation not quite as romantic as it could have been. “D-Do you wish for a peaceful life after we are married? O-Or will you continue your duties at Westminster?”

  He took the hand that he was holding and pressed her palm against his face, acquainting himself with the touch and feel of her against his flesh.

  “I have duties and responsibilities to Richard,” he said. “But I want to make you happy, also. I suppose I’ve not thought much of it. But, for the time being, I intend to continue my duties at Westminster. I have an apartment there where we may live, but I also have lands in Wiltshire given to me by Richard.”

  Lyssa cocked her head curiously. “I-I was not aware.”

  He nodded. “I told your aunt, but I suppose I’ve not yet had the opportunity to tell you. I hold Ravendark Castle near Salisbury along with the titles of Lord Ravendark and Lockerley. You, my lady, shall be Lady Lockerley when we are married. You will be a woman of standing and of wealth. No woman has deserved such a thing more.”

  She smiled at his flattery. “I-I would marry you with only the clothes you are wearing,” she said. “T-Titles and wealth are of little matter to me. A-As long as I have you, that is all I am concerned with.”

  A sweet, beautiful woman without ambition? Garret could hardly believe it. That wasn’t the world he came from and he was certain that wasn’t the world she came from, either. To be unaffected by such things was rare, indeed, and her words touched him. Leaning forward, he kissed her sweetly on the lips. He simply couldn’t help it.

  But it had been a mistake. Instantly, he was drunk with the taste of her and he pulled her up against him as his lips slanted over hers. Here, in the middle of a common room with the rabble and rubbish of London as witnesses, he’d made their first kiss a spectacle for them to see. But he hardly cared; all he cared about was the feel and taste of Lyssa up against him. Never in his life had he been so intoxicated with the first taste of anything… or anyone.

  But somewhere, somehow, his common sense gained control from his lust and he forced himself to pull away from her with a groan.

  “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “I am sorry if that was an unwelcome advance. I do not know what came over me… nay, that is not true. I do know what has come over me. You have come over me. And I shall do that again if the opportunity presents itself, so consider yourself warned.”

  Lyssa looking at him with a mixture of surprise and lust. “You have my permission to do so, any time.”

  The catch in her voice was gone again. Or was it? Garret still wasn’t sure if he was imagining such a thing, but he hardly cared. In moments of extreme warmth, or affection, she seemed to lose it. Or maybe he just stopped hearing it. He smiled faintly at her.

  “Then I shall kiss you, whenever and wherever I can,” he murmured. “However, there is a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I promised your aunt that I would behave. It seems that I have gone back on my promise. Furthermore, she threatened m
e if I should forget my promise. Now, I fear for my life.”

  Lyssa laughed softly. “I-I will not tell her, I swear it.”

  He grinned because she was. But quickly, his smile faded. “Lyssa….”

  He trailed off and she looked at him, expectantly. “W-What is it?”

  He sighed heavily. “I… I have a confession,” he said. “I do not know if I can take you to Lioncross Abbey. The more I think on it, the more reluctant I am to do it. I do not know if I can stand being away from you for so long.”

  Her smile faded also and he could see some fear in her eyes. “N-Nor I,” she whispered. “I-I have been thinking the same thing. I-I said something about it earlier – how we would not know each other when next we saw one another and… o-oh, Garret, must I truly go? W-Why can I not stay here, with you?”

  He pursed his lips, rather sadly, and sat back in his chair. “You could not stay with me if we were not married,” he said. “Your aunt would cut off my… well, let us say that she would cut off something that we both need if we are going to have twelve sons.”

  Lyssa knew what he meant and her smile was back, embarrassing though it might have been. “S-She would not have reason to if we were married,” she said hesitantly. “I-I know it is foolish and forward to even say such a thing, but….”

  He cut her off. “You are not alone in your thinking, sweetheart. I have been thinking the same thing. But to marry after having known each other for three days… it will appear foolish and rushed. People would talk.”

  Lyssa shook her head. “L-Let them,” she said. “T-They will, anyway. T-They will speak of Westminster’s captain marrying a foolish lass with a catch in her speech, but I do not care what they say. W-We know this is not a foolish or rushed endeavor. I-If it is right in our hearts and if we feel strongly about it, then it surely cannot be wrong.”

  She made a good deal of sense but Garret was torn. He was afraid he was being susceptible to silly romantic whims and afraid that he was thinking with his heart and not his head. Or, his loins in this case. He was afraid he was thinking with everything else but the great wisdom he was known for.

  Still… he knew he wanted to marry Lyssa. He had from the start. He would only wait months or even years for propriety’s sake, not because he wasn’t certain of his feelings for her. Those wouldn’t change, not ever. If he married her now or in a year, he would still feel the same for her. Probably more so.

  So… what was he afraid of?

  More than likely, how it would look for Lyssa. Men would say terrible things about a woman who married a man after only having known him a few days. But he knew the truth, and so would she, so they shouldn’t care what men said of either of them.

  If ever there was a time for him to display his bravery in a matter, it would be now.

  “Is that what you want, then?” he finally asked. “To marry me now?”

  Lyssa wasn’t sure if he was agreeable to the idea. He sounded hesitant. “N-Not if you do not wish to,” she said hurried. “I-It is not my intention to suggest anything you do not wish to do, but….”

  He interrupted her. “That was not the question. Do you want to marry me now?”

  She was looking at him fearfully, afraid of giving him the wrong answer. “N-Not if you do not….”

  He stopped her again. “Let me rephrase the question,” he said. “Lyssa, will you marry me now? Would you be agreeable?”

  She was coming to see what he meant and a spark of warmth, of understanding, glimmered in her eyes. “A-Aye,” she said. “I-If you are, then I am.”

  He smiled, a gesture that ended up overtaking his entire face. He pulled her into his embrace, squeezing her tightly, as men at the table next to them suddenly began throwing punches. Bumped from behind, Garret released Lyssa, stood up, and promptly dropped all three men who had started a fistfight. All three fools fell victim to his big fists, one after another, and Garret didn’t even raise a sweat. As the men wallowed on the floor, the crowd took notice and began to cheer Garret.

  But it turned into something of a spectacle. Men began running at Garret, daring him to drop them with one punch while still others were willing to make bets about it. Dismayed, Lyssa could not believe the disrespect and foolery she was seeing. Garret tried to take his seat next to her again but drunken men would not allow it, instead, trying to pull him into some kind of fighting game. He was annoyed, she could see that, but she also suspected he was trying to contain his impatience because he didn’t want to start a massive brawl in front of her. As this was going on, their food arrived and, in the midst of the chaos, Lyssa stood up and barked.

  “Stop!” she snapped. All of the men near the table, including Garret, turned to look at her with surprise but Lyssa wouldn’t back down. She pointed at the men who were trying to goad Garret. “Y-You; get away from him this instant. D-Do you not know who he is? H-He is a champion for King Richard and far beyond your childish fighting games. B-Be gone with you, idiots. I-I will not tell you again!”

  In that instant, Garret could see that whatever commanding presence Rose had, Lyssa had it, too. She had a firm no-nonsense manner that was vastly surprising, one that made both men and women instantly inclined to do her bidding. Truth was, Garret had no idea she could summon such a presence and as he grinned, the men trying to bait him into a punching game slinked away, unwilling to take on the angry lady. Lyssa followed them somewhat, jabbing a finger at one man who tried to turn around, perhaps to plead one last time with the big knight. But his lady was having no part of it, so he ducked his head and scampered away like the rest of them. When Lyssa was certain they would not try to come at Garret again, she turned to him.

  “T-There,” she said, brushing off her hands. “N-Now they will leave you in peace. I-I am famished.”

  Garret was grinning wide enough to split his face in two. He grasped her by the arm, gently, before she could take her seat.

  “That was a remarkable thing to witness, my lady,” he said. “No one can get the better of you, can they?”

  She returned his smile, sheepishly. “Y-You may as well know that I am quick to temper sometimes,” she said. “F-Foolishness always angers me.”

  “I would like to think that you were defending me.”

  “I-I would kill anyone who tried to hurt you or make a fool of you, Garret. A-As long as there was breath in my body, I would not allow it.”

  Garret’s heart melted away, like butter on a hot pan. He’d never in his life had anyone think so well of him, or at least someone he thought well of in return.

  “Your chivalry is without compare, my lady, and I am deeply grateful. I also think we do not want to tempt fate in case those men you chased away try to return.” He suddenly looked to the two serving wenches who were setting the food out on their table. “My lady and I do not wish to eat down here with all of this noise and madness. Are there any private rooms available in the tavern?”

  The older wench with the bushy red hair pointed to the level above them. “Only sleeping rooms, m’lord,” she said. “There’s no place private for you to eat.”

  “Then we shall take a sleeping room for the evening,” he said, motioning to the food on the table. “Take all of this up to one of your rooms. That is where the lady and I shall eat.”

  Quickly, the food was gathered up and Garret took Lyssa by the hand, leading her through the riff-raff that was crammed into the common room of the tavern. He suddenly remembered the trunk under the table. He paused to grab the trunk and then led Lyssa up the narrow stairs that led to a second floor above.

  It smelled like rubbish up here, too, but at least it was quieter, and it was definitely more private. From the smoky noise of the common room to the sudden quietness of the upper floors, Lyssa held tight to Garret’s hand as the two serving wenches took them to one of the very last rooms, a tiny room with a tiny bed and a tiny table with two stools. There was a hearth, but it wasn’t lit, and one of the women kindled a blaze as the other laid out the meal.
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  Meanwhile, Garret and Lyssa stood in the doorway, watching all of the activity, until Garret became impatient and chased the women away. He had no tolerance for lingering servants. Gallantly bowing to Lyssa as he extended his hand into the chamber, she giggled as she entered. He came in behind her, set the trunk down and closed the door quietly, bolting it. Lyssa turned to him.

  “D-Did you really do this so I would not pick a fight with those men in the common room?” she asked. “I-It will not stop me. If I want to fight with them, I will.”

  He laughed deeply. “As much as that would be great entertainment, I would much rather spend our last few hours together alone and not with an audience. I hope you do not mind that I asked for a private chamber.”

  Lyssa shook her head, looking around. She couldn’t help but see the bed because it was right next to her and she wondered if Garret had plans for it. He didn’t seem like the type to push himself on a woman, but the truth was that she didn’t know him very well. Three days wasn’t enough time to come to know the character of a man but, somehow, she didn’t think this was some elaborate plan to bed her. She believed him when he said he had only been seeking privacy.

  “I-I do not,” she said, sitting down on one of the stools. “I-In fact, I am glad for this. Now we can say what we please and not have to shout over the cries of men demanding that the serving wenches lift their skirts.”

  He was forced to agree as he sat his bulk down on the other stool, which could hardly contain it. “I do apologize for that,” he said. “I suggested that we go somewhere else, twice.”

  “I-I know.”

  “It was rather unseemly of me to bring you to a place of such ribald entertainment.”

  She chuckled as she pulled off the cloth covering the food; a big display of fish and fruit pie, cheese, bread and butter was spread out before them along with a big pitcher of the potent Spanish wine. She handed him one of the big, flat knives on the tray and took the other for herself.