by Lisa Shea
I knew my stepmother meant well. She didn’t believe in the power of dreams. She felt the only visions which should come to a woman were the ones presented to her by her Holy Father during his weekly sermons. And while my father still believed in the old ways, in the traditions of our land, he had bowed to Sarah’s advice in all matters concerning marriage.
My shoulders tightened. Simply thinking the word marriage brought tension to my body. It would be one thing if they had chosen a gentle soul for me to be paired with. Perhaps the tailor with his warm smile and his love of children. Even the baker with his round belly and ribald sense of humor would have been fine. But instead they had chosen …
I brushed my hair from my eyes and walked across the grassy common toward my father’s tavern. The wooden beams and adjoining stables normally brought me a warm sense of home, but ever since the dreams had begun, my quiet life had become a turmoil of emotion. I should at this very moment be preparing for a courting visit from Ramsey the Butcher. He was one of the wealthiest men in our village. Surely he provided a perfect match for any woman here.
Instead, all I could think of was the stranger from my dreams. Robert. The one who had faced down death for me in a battle of smoke and explosion. The one who had come for me when all other hope was lost.
My stepmother said my dreams were a sign of my weakness, of my childhood fantasies which must be abandoned now that I was of marriageable age. She reminded me that I must do my part to maintain the family line and ensure the tavern’s position for years to come.
But all I could think of was the cruel glint in Ramsey’s eyes as he slammed his axe down into an animal’s carcass.
And how his last wife, dainty and frail, had been found dead, her own body covered with countless bruises.
There was a steady sound of hoofbeat, and I looked up. It was yet another contingent of soldiers returning from the Crusades. They had been coming through for the past two months. We had heard countless tales of the fall of Jerusalem, the taking of the Holy Land – but I had a sense that there was much that we were not hearing of. It was in the way the soldiers’ eyes would shadow when they watched the children running on the common. How they would break off from a tale and simply stare into their ale, haunted.
My gaze drew along the group of knights –
He was there.
He was dressed in chain mail draped by a white tunic. A dark blue cloak flowed down his back. His head was bare, and the thick, dark hair I had come to know so well ruffled in the breeze.
He was talking with the man to his left, his head turned from me, but I would have known him anywhere. I knew without seeing them that his eyes were tawny and deep, oh so deep. I knew that his face would glow with warmth when he saw me. I knew that his gaze would steady into determination if there were a threat.
He would stop … he would turn …
They passed me. The horses walked along at their even pace, clip-clop, clip-clop, following the Lord at the lead.
I stared at the swishing tails, caught in absolute shock.
Despair soaked through my soul.
Somehow, I had missed him.
I had missed my one chance.
13 – Medieval Destiny
Agonizing despair soaked every bone of my body. They were riding away. The soldiers were nearing the edge of the common, and then they would turn north, north toward the roads to Leeds, Sunderland, or maybe even the Scottish border.
I had lost him. I had lost my one, my only chance to claim the man of my dreams.
The one I loved with all my heart.
I drew in breath –
The grey-haired lord at the lead of the group drew into a halt by the stables. “We’ll stay here for the night, boys,” he called out in a weary voice. “Just a few more days until we’re home.”
A rumbled cheer came from the eight or so men behind him, and they began to dismount.
My heart thundered against my ribs in absolute joy. They were staying! They were staying!
I raced the remaining distance to the tavern’s front door with flying feet, throwing it open as I tumbled into the familiar room.
It was well kept, if I had to say so myself, with ten polished wooden round tables and a scattering of chairs and stools. The fire flickered merrily in the large fireplace, keeping away the edge of spring chill. Large windows looked out over the green and a handful of farmers sat around a table, rumbling in discussion about how the planting would go this year.
They looked up in amusement at my wild entrance. “Easy there, Elizabeth,” called out one. “Was your time with the Father that invigorating?”
“We have soldiers!” I cried out in joy, the sight of Robert still resonating in my heart. “They’ll need ale! Stew!”
I ran across the plank floor to the kitchen where my stepmother was busy stirring the heavy pot which hung over the fire. I drew her into a warm hug. “Soldiers!”
She laughed at my enthusiasm, brushing back her hair with the back of her hand. “Yes, yes, they do tend to tip well. They are just so pleased to be back home again, after years on the road in those desolate deserts.” She gave my rear a playful swat. “Go, grab the tray. Get their ales drawn. They’ll be thirsty after a day on the road.”
I dove for the large, wooden circle of a tray which leaned up against the back wall. I laid it out on the butcher-block table and began filling it with pewter mugs of ale. I could hear the tumble of footsteps and conversation as the men came in, and it put wings to my actions.
He was there. He was really there.
I balanced the mugs just so and then lifted the heavy load up before me. I stepped backward toward the swinging door and nudged it open with my shoulders.
The men had settled into two of the larger tables by the fire, stretching and groaning after a long day of riding. Robert had his back to me. But he was not sitting at the lord’s table, and I knew where I was required to begin.
I moved past Robert to the first table, balancing the tray on one arm while I carefully took the mugs off, one by one, placing them down before the soldiers. “Welcome home,” I greeted them with a smile. “I’ll have fresh lamb stew out for you in a moment, along with hot bread and butter. You just let us know if there’s anything else you need.”
The lord leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. “Ah, just the smell of it makes me feel at home. You’re a good lass.” He took the mug from me and downed half of it in a long swallow. “We’ll need another round of these hard on.”
I smiled. “Surely you will. I’ll have them out in a moment.”
I took in a deep breath, firmed my resolve, and turned.
He was deep in conversation with the man at his left – a burly red-headed giant with a thick beard. Robert was asking the man about the lands they were riding through. If there were problems with harsh landowners, or bandits, or wolves –
I laughed merrily. “Oh, we drove the last wolf pack out of this region years ago,” I assured him. “You are quite safe.”
His eyes drew up to me – and hung in shock.
It was a dream. His gaze was tawny, deep, and I could fall into it for hours. The firmness of his jaw, the strength in his hands …
My tray slipped, and he was on his feet before I could blink, taking it from me.
The red-haired giant laughed. “You’d think the lass hadn’t seen a man in years.” He reached forward to take his ale. “I’ll just take care of these before they end up on the floor.” He distributed the other two to the table.
Robert opened his mouth –
My stepmother’s voice called out high and merry from the kitchen. “Elizabeth! Stew’s ready!”
I flushed, dropping my eyes and grabbing up the tray. I scampered through the door. I was a fool! A silly, girlish, dolt of a fool, and I had nearly poured ale all over him. What in the world must he think of me?
My stepmother’s gaze twinkled as I came into the room. “I know that look. One of them is handsome, isn’t he?”
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br /> Was he? I supposed he was, with that strong set of shoulders and sturdy build. But it was the eyes which held me. The eyes which told me how he adored me. The gaze which promised he would stand by my side, no matter what it took.
I ran a hand through my hair. It was a dream! He was a dream, a fantasy, and I had never met this person who had looked at me as if I were a ghost. For all I knew, his name wasn’t even Robert.
My stepmother loaded the bowls of steaming stew onto the tray, and she gave me a wink. “Careful now. Don’t drop these all over the soldiers. Your father will be home soon enough, from his trip down to the mill, and I wouldn’t want to tell him how you drove away some of our finest customers this week.”
“I won’t, I promise.” I took up the tray and headed back toward the main room.
I felt his eyes even as I backed into the common room. Even as I kept my gaze on the bowls of stew and moved first to the lord’s table, to lay out the bowls and spoons for the men there. Then I returned to Robert’s table.
The giant nudged Robert in the side. “Now you’ve done it, Robert. She won’t even look at us.”
My eyes flew up in shock.
He was Robert.
The tray nearly tipped again, his hand went out, and with effort I regained my balance. My face must have been flaming red, for the heat that shone from me. I put the bowls before the giant, before the slim man with sallow skin, and then before … before …
He took the bowl from my shaking hands, his gaze never leaving mine. “Elizabeth?”
I found I could only nod.
He looked around him. “You work here with … with your father and stepmother?”
My flush deepened. How could he possibly have known these things about me? Had he asked the farmers about me?
I let the tray hang from my side in one hand, my throat completely closing up. “The bread … I will get you the bread, and …”
He took my other hand in his and it was as if lightning seared my soul. As if a powerful current connected us and could never let go. Never … ever …
His voice was rough. “Elizabeth … have you –”
A deep growl of a shout sounded from the tavern’s main doors. “Elizabeth!”
Fear shot through me, sharp and jagged, and I ripped my hand from Robert’s. I turned, holding up the tray before me like a shield.
It was Ramsey.
His voice was a thunderous order. “Come here.”
I heard the chairs scrape behind me, as if the soldiers were drawing to their feet, but I timidly crossed the space between me and Ramsey on shaking legs.
Ramsey was normally florid, his brown hair askew from his heavy work with the carcasses of cows and pigs. But now his face was beet red. His eyes had shrunken to the size of dark raisins in a bulging face. He grabbed a hold of my arm and I could feel the dents that each finger made in my flesh.
He gave me a harsh shake. “You are promised to me, girl. The deal is signed, and you are mine. I will not have you making a fool of me in public!”
“He’s just a customer,” I pleaded. “I was serving them their food, is all. Let me go.”
He shook me again. “Lindsey was a whore, and I only realized it too late. I will make sure not to make that same mistake with you. I will train you, starting now, with what proper behavior entails.”
I flushed in shock. “Lindsey was a saint!” The thought of that timid church-mouse of a woman ever lifting her eyes to another man, never mind actually touching him, boggled my mind.
His voice rose high in fury. “You dare to countermand me?” His hand swept up –
Footsteps stormed up behind me –
My stepmother was there, out of nowhere, her bright smile between me and Ramsey. “Elizabeth, my dear, have you forgotten to go put hay out for the horses? I think you have. Hurry along and take care of that. I’ll make sure to get the bread and fresh ale to our visitors.”
I pulled my arm free of Ramsey’s grip and raced from the room, dropping the tray as I went. My feet thundered across the grass in front of the tavern and I burst into the stables.
Eight sets of large, placid eyes turned to look at me, and then the steeds went back to munching contentedly on their full hay troughs.
I collapsed back against the stable wall, catching my breath. Tears welled in my eyes and I brushed them away with the sleeve of my long, blue dress.
Robert had been there. Robert had been right before me, real, breathing, with those eyes I knew so well, and he had been snatched away from me. He had seen my humiliation. He would leave, ride north, and I would never see him again.
The thought filled me with the utmost of despair.
I stepped forward to the bales of hay, barely seeing them. How had life turned out like this? Surely my dreams must mean something. Did they exist only to send me into deep torment?
If only I could speak with him. Just for a minute. To find out if he, too, had had dreams such as mine. Surely he felt the connection as I had. Surely he had looked into my eyes with such intensity because –
Footsteps came into the stables behind me.
Joy lit my heart, shining out of every part of me. He had known. He had come for me –
I spun –
It was Ramsey.
I fell back against the hay, terror gripping me.
His face went from anger to dark fury. His massive hands clenched into fists at his side. “You were waiting for him, weren’t you? He is your lover. You were ready to spread your legs for him in the stables, like any common whore.”
“No!” I cried out. “I’ve never met him before!”
He spat into the straw. “And that makes it even worse. You give yourself to any soldier who passes by. Any man who stands near you. You are like the female dogs rutting in the village square, for all to see.” He undid his belt buckle and slid the leather belt free of its loops. “And you will be treated like the animal you are.”
Bright terror shot through my body, and I scrambled back deeper into the hay. “Ramsey! No! I swear to you, I had no such plans!”
“I saw your face when you turned,” he growled. “You hoped it was him, did you not?”
“I … I …” My mind couldn’t think of a lie, and my heart called out for Robert so strongly that nothing else could exist.
Ramsey folded his belt in half, to get a better grip on it. “I will teach you to heel. I will show you what you’ll get if you ever look at another man again.” He took another step toward me.
I cowered in on myself, cradling my head in my hands. “Please, I swear, I don’t –”
Don’t what?
Don’t love Robert?
Don’t crave him with every ounce of my being?
Don’t wish desperately that he would come racing in here, right now, and –
Ramsey’s hand rose high, his face mottled in fury. “I will break you!”
His hand descended –
Thundering feet, and Robert’s sturdy form plowed into Ramsey, driving him hard into the back wall. Ramsey spun with his belt, lashing it hard against Robert’s back, and I could feel the echo of the impact. Then Robert’s hand was slamming into Ramsey’s granite-solid head, rocking it back.
Ramsey launched a jab into Robert’s mid-section and there was a loud cracking noise.
My cry burst out of me. “Robert!”
Robert’s breath blew out of him in pain, but he rolled hard on top of Ramsey, straddling him. His fist slammed into Ramsey’s head again … again … again …
“Stop!” I screamed in panic. If Robert killed Ramsey, if Robert was sent to hang at the gallows for something I had done –
A crowd was gathering in the doorway, and I flung myself on Robert, pulling him back. “Please stop,” I begged, my eyes filling with tears.
Robert drew back, cradling his side, and I flung myself at him, weeping.
His arms came up automatically around me, holding me close, and I drew in the scent of him. It was right. It was just right, and
whatever it took, I would stay with him. I didn’t care where we went or what we did. Only that he would be there by my side.
He brushed back my hair and looked down at me. The emotion swirling in his gaze took my breath away. His voice was hoarse. “Are you all right?”
I nodded my head. “I am, now that you’re here.”
His breath caught, and he stared at me as if he had been away for countless years and only now had returned home.
There was staggering motion before us, and Ramsey drew to his feet. Blood coursed from his nose and there was a jagged cut on his arm.
He pointed a shaking finger at me. “You all see her! The whore! She needs to be punished! To be made to obey!”
Robert’s arms tightened around me, and he drew his eyes up to meet Ramsey’s. There was a look in them that made me shiver. “You will never touch Elizabeth again.”
“She is my wife,” growled Ramsey. “You have no right.”
I nestled deeper into Robert to draw strength before speaking. “Ramsey, I am not your wife,” I returned. “Lindsey was your wife. And look at how her life ended.”
“Lindsey was a whore,” he snarled. “She got what she deserved.”
A glimmer of hope came to me. The tiniest seed of a path out.
I slid even deeper within Robert’s embrace, my courage growing with every moment I was with him. “Lindsey was as pure as winter’s first snow,” I goaded Ramsey. “Every person in our village would swear on the Bible that she was innocent of any other man’s touch.”
Ramsey’s thick fingers curled into fists. “Oh, she claimed she had never touched another man. Of course she would lie. But I knew. I knew, when I would catch her unawares. That she was dreaming of another life.”
I was sure she did.
I gave a scoffing laugh. “So you caught her dreaming,” I prodded. “And this was wrong?”
His thick head nodded. “She should have been grateful for me! For what I provided to her!” His eyes darkened. “So I taught her a lesson.”
