by Ria Cantrell
Without any further discussion, he moved her out of his arms and hurried away. Jenna was stunned and more than a little furious. Men, she thought. Well that should teach her to play with things she knew nothing about. Storming off on her own, neither of them had seen Morag standing by watching the entire scene. She clapped her hands with glee. Ach, the Ancients were master puppeteers, to be certain. Her precious ward’s lass had found her mate finally; and what better man for the task than her own dear son.
~
Chapter Thirty-Nine ~
Tom stalked the edges of the hall, keeping de la Pole in his sights at all times. He had to find out what his tactic was going to be and though he was probably way out of his league, Tom knew that the life of the king and possibly his beautiful Jenna’s as well, depended upon it. To hell with Morag’s warning! That girl was in his blood and he would protect her with his life. Tom didn’t know when he had decided that, but it was a fierce blossoming realization that was consuming him whole.
It was easy to see de la Pole’s head amid the crowd. He wore his hair cropped to his ears and it seemed almost unnaturally curly with a greasy shine to it. When the man meandered through the people hoping for some refreshments, Tom followed him. He tried to hide himself among the hangers on and royal followers. He had already had that one nasty encounter with the man and so it would not bode well for him if he was caught stalking de la Pole like some sort of prey. Tom did not know what he would do once he caught up with him, but he had to try to keep his eyes on him. He needed some sort of plan, but what? Sometimes ignorance was bliss, indeed, but he could not claim that now. He knew the truth and so it was up to him to do something; if only he knew what that something was. He couldn’t just follow the assassin around like a lap dog. This was an even worse quandary than the one involving Jenna.
Perhaps if he could hear what the man was up to, then maybe Tom would have something to go on. He inched his way closer and was unaware of the excitement of the king’s arrival. It wasn’t until the loud din of noise was raised to a fevered pitch, that Tom realized something or rather someone important had made his way into the feast hall. Just as soon as the roar of the crowd heightened, it seemed to magically fall silent in a matter of seconds.
Tom watched as a pathway was made for the ruler of England as he walked toward high table. Without even twitching a finger, serving girls were bringing him food and drink. Tom thought it must be interesting to have that kind of power, but gladly, it was not the kind of power Tom wished to attain. Tom was actually astounded at the youth of the man who ruled the land. Richard was younger than Tom was, but he was at complete ease with his royal station. This man had been born and bred to be king and with that responsibility, Tom was sure he was not naïve to the intrigues that went along with it. Even so, the very one who was a danger to the king approached the dais and gained audience with him. The king motioned for the slick bastard to sit with him and immediately the two had their heads together in some private conversation.
No, it can’t be. Don’t trust the scuzball. Tom thought he had screamed it aloud, but gratefully, he had only shouted the thoughts in his mind. His stomach churned. De la Pole was the king’s counsel. It hardly seemed believable. He tried to move closer, but suddenly felt a tug upon his shoulder. He turned to meet the eyes of that Nordic giant who had pulled him out of the confines of the storage closet. Leaning closer to Tom’s ear, Erik whispered, “Sometimes it is best to keep one’s enemies closer.”
Tom looked astounded. Erik laughed and said, “No, I am not some sort of warlock, but I daresay my lovely wife has taught me well. She is quite, hmm, shall we say gifted in these things. I am a warrior. I make it my business to gauge a man by his body language and expressions. You have a look of a warrior about you. T’is why you do not trust that man any more than I do.”
Tom could not say no, it wasn’t that at all, but that he had read about it in a history book hundreds of years from now.
“Sir Erik at your service, friend.”
“You know who I am?”
“Aye. Lady Bronwyn informed me of your interesting journey.”
“And you believed her?”
“Of course. Oh do not doubt for a minute I had never heard of such a thing, but you see the woman I spoke of, my wife Rhianna, has been schooled in things we cannot always explain. It is no different for these people. Perhaps it is even more so. They are an ancient people, steeped in the ways of mystical things that seem impossible to many. I learned long ago not to doubt things I could not always logically illuminate.”
“Is she a w….” Tom stopped himself before the word was out. That sort of thing got people burned at the stake during these times.
Erik just laughed again. “She has been called that. I, myself was warned of such a thing before I wed her. She is special. She is a healer and a Seer. Not unlike the Old one who is your mother. Her ways are different but the outcome is many times the same.”
Tom was beginning to get a bad headache from trying to think of all of this stuff. He supposed in his time, whatever that meant for now he was linked to the past as surely as the future beckoned, that science thwarted what was customarily believed in these days. Here, in this primeval world, the unexplainable was more accepted as a way of life. “I would like to meet her someday, I think.”
“Perhaps. Now, rest easy in the knowledge that I and my guards are well aware of the danger of that one. None of us have a sense of good from the man. But do not take the king’s youth for innocence. His father and grandfather were quite formidable, I can vow to that.”
“But yes, you are right. There is not much I can do anyway. I am not a warrior.”
“I would not be so sure about that. Some things are naturally born. Your clan is a powerful legion of soldiers.”
“But they aren’t my clan. I mean I only just found out that I was, you know; that I was misplaced in time. I do not know their ways. Things are very different in future times.”
“Are they? Do you not fight for what you believe in? Do you not protect those you love, even with your life?”
Tom thought on Erik’s words and he had to agree. He was right. Tom nodded.
“I thought as much. Mayhap your ways are different but the intent is the same.”
“What should I do?”
“Trust few for now, except those of your immediate circle. Seek to train when you can. I would be happy to lesson you in the art of weaponry.”
Even though Derek had given him the basics of sword play, Tom knew that it would not be nearly enough if he was actually called to use any of said skills. The idea of training under this seasoned knight of the realm piqued his interest almost as much as the young temptress that had unwittingly stolen his heart.
“T’is not hard. You will just need to focus. You are strong. You can learn, even this late in your life; that is if you have a wish to.”
If Tom could protect Jenna and her family, he would train with the devil if he needed to.
“When?”
“Tomorrow. In the lists. At the day’s first light.”
“I have a feeling I am going to regret agreeing to this.”
Clapping Tom on the back with a loud thud, Erik said, “I have a feeling you will regret it if you do not.”
Shit! It was one thing to spar with Derek. He had been out of commission so to speak for nearly seven hundred years, but this guy lived and breathed war every single day of his life. I’m a dead man, Tom thought. He’d better find Kiera so he could tell her of his last wishes.
As if his thoughts had conjured her to the hall, Kiera was being led in on the arm of Sir Drew and she sent Tom a withering glance. She was going to have to bear the odious king’s attentions again for the midday meal. Tom suddenly felt glad that Jenna was not going to have to suffer through it, as she should have if Kiera had not arrived.
Tom actually felt sorry for his cousin. He just winked at her and nodded as if to give her a bit more courage that she clearly did not feel.
She looked miserable and Tom thought she was probably missing Derek like hell in addition to having to play dinner mate to the self-absorbed Richard. As Tom watched seemingly safe from a distance, he saw the king lean in and whisper something to Kiera. Then she was pointing toward Tom and Erik. Before he could contemplate the meaning of the gesture, Erik said, “It would seem the king wishes a word with you.”
“Me? Why would he wish to speak to me?”
“Only he would know, Tavish. I can go with you, if you wish.”
Tom shot a look back at Erik and though he would be more at ease if the big Norse god would accompany him to the dais, he shook his head no. If he was going to train like a warrior, it was time to start acting like one. Feeling like he was being led to his execution, Tom approached the king and he knew enough to bow before the man, even though in his time, most people didn’t bow to anyone. He did not like the feeling of having to humble himself before the man who bore the crown simply by his right of birth. Mayhap he was more of a Highlander than he had given himself credit for. He heard the stilted and curt speech of the man before him command, “Arise. Our lovely hostess has informed Us that you and she are betrothed.”
As Kiera quelled the frantic look on her face, Tom simply answered, “Aye, Your Grace.”
“Well, then please, join Us for Our meal. We would not wish to separate a betrothed couple.”
Tom almost felt like the king could see through the entire charade and it nearly seemed that he was actually jeering at him for his part in it. He bowed slightly again and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty, I mean…Your Grace.”
Dammit, Tom forgot that they had not really used that title until a bit later in history. He tried to remember which king implemented that term of protocol. Had it been Richard of Bordeaux?
“Majesty…Your Majesty, I rather like that. It has a certain charm to it…Your Majesty it is.”
Then like a child amused with a new play thing, the king stood. All assembled in the hall rose with him. “It is the whim of This Crown to be addressed Majesty. Our young Highlander has pleased Us well with such a title.”
Holy crap, did I just change history with this faux pas?
Tom was horrified. Not only that, the king thought he was a Highlander. He supposed he had the look of one; even more now than ever. Since learning he actually was one and not a romantic rendition of one when he performed to appease the fantasies of the ladies who came to hear him sing, Tom had to embrace his heritage. It seemed an easier transition than he would have imagined. He guessed it was because of the one who had never heard him sing or portray that archetype on stage.
The king motioned for him to join them for the meal and after several people shuffled down, Tom stood next to Kiera. He took her hand and placed a chaste kiss upon it and said, “My lady.”
He glanced over at the man standing beside the king. De la Pole! Once again, the name fired in Tom’s mind, reminding him of his purpose. He had only momentarily forgotten when he had been commanded to stand before the king.
Well, Tom did want to get closer to him. The man glared at him with positive hatred and Tom was quite certain if he had a chance he would have him killed, but the ill-mannered would-be assassin turned from him once the king sat down and dismissed Tom as if he was of no more worth than a bug. That was fine by Tom. Still, it would be good to see if he could glean anything from this new position at High Table.
Tom had to make it look like he and Kiera were a couple so he asked about how she was and paid her cursory compliments. Tom would have been mildly amused at Kiera’s bad luck in lunch mates, but for the presence of de la Pole. It was all very polite and cordial. The king engaged Kiera in mundane conversation while de la Pole sat delving into his food like a man who had been starved. For one of the king’s trusted men, the man was an absolute glutton when he ate. He seemed to have no manners at all as he shoveled food into his sneering mouth like pig at the trough. If Tom thought he would gain an insight into the man or would be able to pick up some important clue as to what he was about, he was sadly mistaken. The man was so consumed with stuffing his face, that he spoke not a word while they finished the midday meal.
Tom actually could not wait to be done with it. The slobbering sounds coming from the man next to the king was disgusting and it was ruining the experience of the wonderfully prepared food. Except for the fact there was no coffee, Tom had found that he could happily get used to the medieval menu. Things tasted better, in this time, without preservatives and chemicals. Everything was prepared fresh and they did not have some of the spices to overcompensate for bad meat. Instead, everything was quite delicious and Tom had been enjoying that part of the experience, except while bearing witness to de la Pole’s eating habits.
When Tom thought the meal was nearly done, he waited patiently for the king to rise, for it would be rude and considered bad form to do so before the royal guest. When the king pushed his trencher away, that was the signal for those present at High Table to stop eating. All rose with the king. With a flourish of a hand covered in ornate rings, the king spoke, “Please, please. Take your seats. I have a little announcement to make.”
Kiera looked at Tom nervously and he shrugged, not knowing what was about to unfold any more than she did. If he had felt sick watching de la Pole drooling over his food, the sudden indication of news sat heavy in Tom’s stomach.
Clearing his throat, the king began, “Now then…We have been so graciously received by Our hosts that We would like to offer a gift to show Our thanks. We have been especially entertained by the lovely Jenna Brandham.”
Kiera’s cheeks flamed at such an announcement. That would make it seem that she did more than have lunch with the man. Still, she clamped her mouth shut and lowered her head. Tom’s eyes blazed at such a statement. First of all, he knew it was not true and secondly, he did not want anyone making such an inference to Jenna; even if it was his cousin that was being pinned to the unnamed deed.
The king continued, “So, as a token of Our thanks We have commissioned a fine artist to render a painting of Lady Jenna as a gift to her betrothed.”
Without thinking, both Kiera and Tom said in unison, “The painting!”
The king’s head turned to look at the couple and Kiera murmured, “I beg yer’ pardon, Yer’ Grace, er, I mean yer’ Majesty. T’is just such an extravagant gift.”
“Nonsense! Why, We would be remiss if We did not show Our thanks.”
“Thank ye’, yer’ Majesty.”
The king seemed well-pleased with his gift and so he ended his little speech and took Kiera’s hand to his lips. She all but cringed as his clammy hand had grabbed hers and she fought the revulsion as his overly wet lips touched her flesh. Instead of kissing the back of her hand as she had thought was the custom, at the last minute, he turned it and kissed her palm instead. It sent a creepy feeling into her veins and it was all she could do to not say, “Ewwwwww! Gross!”
With a pompous demeanor, the king moved from the dais and started to leave the hall. He was tailed closely by de la Pole and just like that, lunch was ended. Even though Tom could not gather any useful information, he breathed a sigh of relief. He thanked God and named a few pagan ones as well to be done with the completely unpleasant meal. Kiera was still reeling from what the king had implied and Tom was all too glad that the real Jenna had not been there to hear it. She would have been positively livid at the implication and Tom would have had to agree with her.
Taking his cousin’s hand, he walked from the hall with her. She was absolutely furious at what had just taken place. Even though she was married to a medieval man, she wondered if she could ever get used to the way women were subjugated in this time. Thankfully, Derek never treated her like that. He had grown to respect her and even when he was a little over protective of her, it was because she knew that he cherished her. This little strutting peacock was just as disgusting as can be and she wondered how such a man could rule a country.
Tom finally spoke and said,
“I’m sorry that happened to you. I am just glad that the real Jenna was not here to take it. She would have thrown a fit. She does not seem to be one to take kindly to such things.”
“Hmm, well neither do I. I feel like I need a shower.”
“I know and again I’m sorry.”
Shaking off the feelings from the latest encounter with the king, Kiera turned to Tom and said, “So what’s going on with you and Jenna? You seem to be a little into her.”
Tom smiled and said, “I am into her, but what of it? It won’t do either of us any good to get involved. I mean, I need to go home and her place is here.”
Kiera raised an eyebrow and said, “Stranger things have been known to happen. I mean just look at me and Derek.”
“I know, but Derek lives with you in modern days. I don’t know if I could settle in this time.”
“Well, you are part of this time, Tom. I mean, you know, because of Morag and all. You really should try to get better acquainted with her. I think you would find that you liked her, despite what she was forced to do when you were a baby.”
“I don’t know. Besides, I have other problems on my mind right now. My warm and fuzzy reunion with my birth mother will just have to wait, I’m afraid.”
“Problems? What sort of problems?”
“I can’t really tell you. Morag made me promise.”
“What does she know of it?”
“Well, she doesn’t really. At least I don’t know if she does. She is a bit psychic, you know.”
“A bit? You’re joking. She is more than a bit, Tom. She is an ancient Seer. She is a Time Traveler, which by the way, now that we are on the subject, you are her son, after all. Just saying.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying that I would not worry so much about time constraints in your relationship with Jenna knowing that you are a son of a Time Traveler.”
Tom laughed, not really finding the humor in it. He said, “Yeah, well these things are usually only set for women of the line.”
