Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  "Talk to her, Richmond," he said softly. "She’s bewildered and hurt, and you are making it worse with your silence."

  Richmond ignored him. “I have sent a messenger to London to inform Henry of what has happened,” he told him. “I have instructed him to wait for a reply. Until and unless we have a different directive, it is my intention to take Arissa directly to Whitby. She will be safe there.”

  Gavan nodded at the business-like reply. Richmond was being cold as only Richmond was capable of doing, like a great block of ice. No emotion, no feelings. Gavan cleared his throat softly.

  “Agreed,” he said, shifting back to his original statement. “But you must tell her something. She’s understandably frightened.”

  Slowly, Richmond shook his head. "Do you think she will want to hear that the only father she’s ever known has sworn to kill her on sight? How do you think she will feel when I tell her that William blames her for Bart's injury?" he sighed heavily, ignoring the dripping water on his face. "I cannot bring myself to tell her those things. Any of it."

  "So you would allow her to cry herself ill while you refrain from explaining why she had to leave home?" Gavan closed his visor against the driving rain. "You are being cruel."

  Richmond's head snapped to Gavan, his blue eyes blazing beneath his open visor. "I am sparing her feelings."

  "Not at all. You are hoping she will never question your reasons for abruptly leaving Lambourn, therefore, you will not voluntarily tell her the factors behind her departure," his helmed head turned to his friend. "That's not like you, Richmond. You have always been exceedingly honest and forthright."

  Richmond's intense gaze lingered on his second a moment longer before turning away. After a heady pause, he let out a sharp sigh.

  "You are right, of course. She’s to know, even if it is only a portion of the truth."

  Gavan eyed him for a moment. "'Tis understandable that you are afraid to tell her. You do not want to be the cause of her grief."

  "I loathe to be the cause of her grief."

  "But you do not seem to realize that you are causing her more grief with your silence."

  Richmond slanted the man an intolerant, nearly-mocking glance. "You are too damn wise for your own good, Hage. Get away from me; you have piqued my irritation because your wisdom exceeds mine."

  Gavan smiled. "'Tis time you come to realize my superiority."

  "Arrogant swine." Richmond slammed his visor down, reining his charger towards the rear of the column where Arissa rode aboard the provisions wagon.

  Arissa did not see him approach until mud suddenly splashed up from the road, pelting the heavy cloth across her lap. Directing his destrier next to the jostling wagon, he raised his visor, his weary face wet from the rain.

  "I am sorry we had to leave in the middle of this storm," he said quietly. "Are you comfortable?"

  She did not say anything for a moment. Then, her angry, pale face glared at him from beneath her hood. "Why did we have to leave so suddenly? I did not even get to say farewell to anyone."

  His blue eyes were laced with fatigue, the shadowy stubble on his face speaking volumes of a man who hadn't seen a moment's rest since before dawn. He held her gaze for a lengthy pause.

  "Because you are still my charge, Lady Arissa, and I deemed it necessary to leave Lambourn immediately to preserve your safety and possibly your life,” he sounded snappish. “In case you haven't realized it, Lambourn is a battle zone and certainly no place for you. Furthermore, your natural father's enemies have discovered your whereabouts and the sooner you leave, the better. Do you comprehend me?"

  Her fury faded and she lowered her gaze, ashamed with her behavior. As always, he was only thinking of her best interests and she should not have become angry with him for doing what he must.

  She wiped at her nose daintily. "But why couldn't I even say good-bye?"

  His compassion for her plight deepened, torn so brutally from her friends and family. His voice softened. "Because we could not spare the time. I am sorry, kitten. I truly am."

  She sniffled softly, wiping at her nose again. "I.... I am going to miss them terribly. I did not even have the chance to tell Penelope how sorry I was for her father's death."

  He reached out to touch her hand; this time, she did not pull away and wound her fingers tightly around his massive gauntlet. "She knows how sorry you are, kitten. Do not fret so."

  They rode in silence for a few moments. The rain had lessened in intensity, although it was still quite wet. But there was a peace to the rain, a soothing quality that comforted and consoled weary soldiers and lady alike. Arissa listened to the rain, holding Richmond's hand and feeling a measureable degree of tranquility. But the calming sounds did nothing to ease the apprehension for her future.

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.

  His grip tightened around her fingers. "Whitby."

  Whitby. A month ahead of schedule. She had been looking forward to spending the next thirty-one days with Richmond, exploring and discovering, creating memories to lock deep into her heart that she could draw upon when she was forced into the lonely isolation of the abbey. She had been counting on those recollections to preserve her sanity.

  But Richmond had decided to alter that schedule. She did not want to go to Whitby; not now, not ever. The tears that had so recently fled were back with a vengeance, and she sobbed softly into her handkerchief.

  Richmond squeezed her hand tightly. "Do not cry, kitten. You shall be perfectly safe there while I attend to necessary duties. I will not be long, I promise. Just long enough to plead for your hand."

  Her sobbing grew louder, more hysterical. "But.... I do-on't want to go. I-I shall be away from you for C-Christmas, Richmond. Do not take me t-there, not now!"

  He tugged on her hand, hard enough to cause her to lurch to her feet. Before she realized it, he was grasping her about the waist and placing her in front of him in the saddle. Adjusting the oiled cloth to keep her dry, he spurred his charger forward.

  Arissa continued to sob miserably as his thick arm clutched her tightly. Faceplate raised, he leaned close to her ear. "I do not want to take you there, you know that. But I have virtually no choice in the matter."

  She sniffled and sobbed. "N-not there! D-Do you have friends we could stay with? O-Or you could t-take me to Windsor. I am sure the k-king would not mind."

  He did not say anything for a moment and she could feel his hot breath against her ear. Certainly it would not be a keen idea for her to be roving the halls of Windsor for several good reasons; Henry would not want to be reminded at every turn of a love gone by, of the painful indiscretions that had plagued a young noble. Furthermore, Richmond most likely would be kept apart from her out of pure protocol. He was, after all, a mere knight. And she was of royal blood.

  His heart sank when he realized Arissa had no true home, no place to seek refuge in her time of need. There was nowhere for her to go. Except Whitby.

  "That would not be wise, Riss," he murmured softly. "There is nowhere for you to go but the abbey."

  She wept into her hand. "D-Do not leave me there, Richmond. Please do not leave me there alone."

  He held her tightly. "I have no choice, kitten."

  "Then I w-want to go home," she sobbed pathetically. "I want to go back to L-Lambourn."

  His jaw ticked faintly as he remembered William's words, harsh threats spoken in the midst of agonizing grief. "You cannot go home. You cannot ever go home."

  She continued to sob and cough, breaking his heart with her sorrow. Although he had numerous friends scattered throughout the country, he felt most comfortable for her safety and health tucked away in the Yorkshire abbey. Far away from Owen and far away from Henry's enemies who were clearly aware of her existence. Whereas Arissa could be wrested from the walls of a breached fortress, or even the walls of Windsor for that matter, those who sought to do her harm would think twice before violating the haven of an abbey.

  "Listen to me,
love," he squeezed her gently, attempting to distract her from her misery. "I promise we shall take our time traveling to Whitby. We shall make an adventure of it; stopping at every inn that captures your fancy, purchasing sweets and pretty things. We shall have a wonderful time doing whatever our moods dictate. Will that be acceptable?"

  She ran a finger under her nose, thinking on his offer a moment. "T-The nuns will make me give up the pretty things we purchase."

  He shrugged, attempting to keep his manner light in the hope that she would follow suit. If she noted his unconcerned attitude towards the unknown amount of time to be spent at Whitby, mayhap she would cease to view the necessary separation as a death sentence.

  "I shall keep them safely for you,” he assured her. “I have also had in mind to build my own keep; mayhap we shall discover a suitable piece of land as we travel northward. We shall pass through portions of lovely country and I am sure we can choose a fitting location. I will depend upon you to assist me in this most important duty."

  She sniffled again, her tears fading as a faint excitement took hold. "You want me to help you?"

  "Absolutely. It will be your keep too, will it not?"

  She thought a moment; certainly it would be her keep, too. The place where she and Richmond would spend the rest of their lives, basking in a love that had existed since the day she was born. She wiped at her nose yet again, turning to look at him in the rain.

  "M-Mayhap we can build it on a hill, overlooking the land,” she said helpfully. “Mayhap we can even build it overlooking a river; a huge grand place with hundreds of rooms for all of the children we will have."

  His smile faded, thinking on Mossy's words. Were she to conceive, it could kill her. Gazing into the pale green eyes, he tried not to let his depression show. "I doubt we could have enough children to fill one hundred rooms," he said softly. "In any event, you will help me select a suitable site for our keep. Agreed?"

  Our keep. Her tears were forgotten as he successfully diverted her grief and she smiled hopefully. "Can I name our fortress?"

  "Certainly you can," he pulled the oiled tarp tighter about her slender body as the rain increased, turning her away from the direction of the wind. "Did you have a name in mind?"

  She sighed, feeling her fatigue as her emotions settled. "Not yet. But I will spend my days contemplating a list of names for your approval."

  "And I shall look forward to it." Thankful his attempt to calm her had succeeded, Richmond spurred his destrier into a jaunty canter to the front of the column. Gavan was riding alone at the head, and he turned to look at Richmond and Arissa as they rode up. One look at the lady's pleasant expression and he knew that all was right in the world once again.

  "Good to see you again, my lady," he raised his visor, smiling.

  Richmond cut in before Arissa could reply. "There is a fork in the road about a mile ahead. Veer to the right."

  Gavan nodded, still grinning at Arissa. "Aye, my lord. We are bound for Whitby."

  Arissa was no longer concerned for her Yorkshire destination as she heard Gavan repeat Richmond's orders. Instead, she smiled at the younger knight. "We are going to select a parcel of land to build on," she informed him proudly. "Richmond said that I could name our keep."

  Gavan bobbed his head in approval. "A wise decision. Women are much better with names than men."

  "I disagree," Richmond said. "Men select names worthy of their glory, while women tend to choose titles of home and hearth."

  Arissa cocked an eyebrow. "Are you saying, in effect, that I would saddle your glorious keep with a name unworthy of your veneration?"

  "Not at all. But you must take my magnificent reputation into account when you make your selection."

  Her eyes twinkled at Gavan as she replied to Richmond's arrogant statement. "I have chosen a name already. We shall call our splendid new fortress Mother's Lap."

  Richmond winced as Gavan laughed uproariously. "She knows you well, Richmond," Gavan snorted. "Why not call it Fool's Lair?"

  "With you lingering within the walls, that particular name would be fitting," Richmond retorted, returning his focus to Arissa. "As much as I would like to consider your title for our fortress, I must ask that you amend your choice. Surely there are other names that can be suggested."

  She smiled wearily, heavy-lidded as a result of her crying jag and the sway of the horse. "I suppose I can think of something else, if I must."

  Richmond pulled her closer, wrapping the oiled tarp more tightly about her body as the wind kicked up. "How gracious, my lady."

  The rain increased substantially as bolts of lightning began to light up the sky. Cradled against Richmond, Arissa started in response to the addition of the lightning, but Richmond casually glanced into the pounding night sky as if the element was of little concern.

  "We will stop for the night to remove Arissa from this harsh climate," he said to Gavan. "Oxford is another two hours."

  Gavan nodded, watching a vicious streak of lightning carve a path through the black clouds. "Agreed. In fact, I shall send a couple of soldiers ahead to secure a room at a local inn. She should not be exposed to this weather any longer than necessary."

  "Absolutely not," Richmond agreed. "In fact, have the soldiers secure two rooms."

  Gavan cast him a glance. "One for you? Since when do you sleep in a warm bed while I suffer in the rain?"

  Richmond's gaze was steady. "Where I sleep, my second sleeps. The second room is for you."

  Gavan, however, still was not grasping his meaning. "Me? I am to sleep in a warm bed while you...." suddenly, he comprehended exactly what he had been told and a shadow of a grin crossed his lips. "Thank you, my lord. You are most generous."

  Arissa, however, had yet to comprehend the gist of it. Her lovely brow furrowed and she sniffled into her damp handkerchief. "If Gavan has one room and I have the other, where are you going to sleep?"

  Richmond cocked an eyebrow, lowering his visor as he gazed at the road beyond. "Not with Gavan."

  * * *

  Oxford was a bustling city situated fifteen miles north and east of Lambourn. The rain continued to pour mercilessly as the column closed in on the outskirts; fifty men, horses, a wagon, two armored knights and one drenched lady. Richmond and Gavan were met by the two soldiers they had sent ahead to procure accommodations.

  "We had our pick of inns, my lord," one man saluted Richmond sharply. "We selected The Willow and secured two rooms and a meal."

  "Excellent," Richmond glanced over his shoulder at his men, standing in ranks under the driving rain. Beyond them, less than a quarter of a mile away, was a thick cluster of trees. Richmond gestured to the foliage. "Grimsby, have the men set up camp in those trees. The Willow is on Longwall Street, is it not?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  "Then you will know where to find me. Make sure the men eat before they retire; they shall need their strength."

  As the two soldiers went to do their liege's bidding, Richmond spurred his charger forward and sent Gavan for Arissa's trunk.

  Oxford was quiet but for the occasional shouts of distant laughter emitting from one of her numerous inns. Arissa watched the small buildings and shops pass by, scrutinizing each one curiously. Except for the village of Lambourn, she'd never strayed beyond the limits of the earldom and felt a certain amount of enthusiasm as Richmond's massive charger plodded past the bakery, a jeweler's shop, and a silversmith. It was all new and wonderful, and her mood began to lighten with the excitement.

  The Willow was the largest hostel in town, well-lit and moderately crowded. Richmond dismounted his steed, gently setting Arissa to her feet in the sticky mud. Taking her hand, he led her into the warm, hazy structure.

  The smell of smoke and vomit hit Arissa like a sharp slap as she entered the establishment, causing her to catch her breath and wrinkle her nose. Richmond slanted her a gaze, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He was relatively immune to the repulsive scents of humankind, but Arissa's delicate balance was i
mmediately offended.

  "Richmond, if our room smells like this...."

  He put his arm around her protectively, his eyes searching for the innkeeper. "It will not, I promise. If it does, I shall demand that they scrub it clean until it meets with your approval."

  The proprietor of the tavern was already moving toward them, a small man with little hair. He knew a well-paying customer when he saw one.

  "Welcome, my lord," the man bowed at the waist. "A room for you and your daughter this night?"

  Arissa felt as if she had been struck, a physical blow that took her breath away. Richmond did not react outwardly, but his eyes took on a most peculiar gleam. "My wife and I have already secured two rooms in your stench-cloaked establishment. The name is le Bec."

  The innkeeper's eyes widened and he stumbled back a step as if to escape the huge man's fury. "I.... I apologize, my lord, I meant no offense," he stammered quickly. "Your wife is so tiny, such a perfect little female, I assumed.... pray forgive, my lord."

  Richmond's gaze was deadly, but he allowed the infraction to pass. It would only upset Arissa if he were to punish the man for his ignorance. "Where are our rooms?"

  "Up the stairs, sire, the last two doors to the right."

  Richmond, clutching Arissa against him, moved to mount the steps. "My officer will be here shortly, a massive man bearing a trunk. You will direct him to me."

  The landlord nodded eagerly. "Of course, sire. I shall send your meal to your rooms immediately."

  Richmond did not reply as he took the stairs. As they entered the dim corridor of the second floor, the acrid smells and noise seemed to fade rapidly. By the time they reached their designated rooms, the clutter from the common room was a muffled roar.

  Arissa moved to open one of the doors, peering inside. Richmond opened the second door, scrutinizing the room. "Too small," he commented, moving to the door Arissa had opened. "Ah, this will do nicely. Let Gavan struggle in the small bed. This one is more my size."