by Leila Snow
He always offered to escort her on a ride about the countryside and she invariably agreed. They talked for hours about their childhoods and all manner of subjects. She came to sense the depth of heartache that the knight kept hidden. Though he didn't tell her the cause, she was happy that he seemed to find her a calming presence. By the third day, she had no doubt that she was in love with the knight and would have done anything to take his pain away. Alas, their rides seemed to offer him only a temporary reprieve. The heartache would once again flood his eyes the moment she suggested they return to Marbourne.
"Will you join us at court?" Sir Nathaniel asked the fourth afternoon.
"I think not," she replied. "I have been absent too long from the convent already, and it is time I made my final vows," she added quietly. She looked over at him and fancied he looked disappointed.
"A shame," he answered truthfully. "I will miss your companionship."
Aileth's heart leapt to her throat. "Truly?" she whispered.
"Indeed," he said solicitously.
"Sir Nathaniel," she began hesitantly. "Our first ride, you said we all long for things we can't have..."
He nodded, eyeing her searchingly.
"What is it that you long for so greatly that it torments you?"
He blanched and turned his face from her. She worried that she had overstepped. He dismounted hurriedly and walked away from the horses to stand against an ancient oak, whose now-bare branches towered above him. Aileth could see the slump in his shoulders and her heart went out to him. Also dismounting, she strode to him and tucked her small hand into his massive, calloused one.
"Sometimes, pain is made more bearable by the sharing," she whispered.
The tortured visage he turned to her caused her to step back in distress.
"It's not something I long for, but someone," he gasped.
And the story of his love for Madeline poured forth. The well, now uncapped, could not be contained. The knowledge of the depth of his love, distressed Aileth and an ache slowly grew in the vicinity of her heart. Nevertheless, she drew his pain from him, word by word until he collapsed to the ground shaking and sobbing. She held his massive frame in her arms and smoothed his hair from his temple, as one would a small child, until he calmed.
"I am humiliated," he finally uttered.
"Nay," she said. "Never be. It is a strong man who can love as deeply as you love."
"And now we go to court, where I will watch yet another man try to possess her. They can see her value, yet they cannot see that her beauty comes from her strength and her selfwill. She will never allow any man to control her."
Aileth debated on telling him the words she had overheard the king utter to Lady Madeline. In the end, her innate truthfulness won out.
"The day of the tournament," she began haltingly. "The king insisted Lady Madeline sit beside him."
"I remember," Nathaniel said bitterly.
"He said something most sinful," she recalled. "He told Lady Madeline that she should be wary, as he intended to have her in his bed by St. Crispin's Day."
The tormented howl that emerged from deep within the man, gave her to believe that she had been mistaken in telling him of the king's words.
Because thou hast the power
and own’st the grace
To look through and behind
this mask of me....
and behold my soul’s true face.
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning
CHAPTER 17
Sir Nathaniel didn't speak during the ride back to the castle, his face a deathly alabaster. When he didn't appear for the evening meal, Aileth knew something was very wrong and that she had made an unpardonable miscalculation.
The meal dragged on interminably. Completely out of character, she felt like shouting at the cheerful minstrels to be silent. Lady Madeline didn't seem to be faring much better than herself, as she picked at her meal. Aileth saw the woman's beautiful green eyes scan the room frequently. Instinctively, she knew that Madeline was searching for Nathaniel. A pair of star crossed lovers, fated to be kept apart. Her heart suffered for them.
She had come to admire Lady Madeline. Despite the depth of emotion the she clearly possessed for Nathaniel, she was a loyal, kind, and compassionate wife to Lord Endle. From their conversation, Aileth realised that Sir Nathaniel had little comprehension of Madeline's sentiments towards him. It was probably for the best. His torment would only increase knowing his feelings were reciprocated. She wondered that she hadn't seen it earlier.
As the meal slowly reached its conclusion, Aileth saw Sir Hugh rise and prepare to depart. She pled a headache and followed him from the great hall. She caught up with the knight in the courtyard.
"Sir Hugh!" she raised her voice to garner his attention. She succeeded and he turned back towards her, surprise showing clearly on his face. He waited whilst she approached him.
"Can I assist you, my Lady?" he asked respectfully.
She nodded at him. "I believe I may have unintentionally said something that has distressed Sir Nathaniel greatly," she stammered. "He did not appear for the evening meal."
She saw the knight's eyes harden as he answered her. "It is not unusual these days for Sir Nathaniel," he explained. "Though I had thought it was improving, as he has been so much better of late."
"I believe we must find him," she insisted.
"Nay," Sir Hugh said dispassionately. "The lad is sure to be found at the tavern in the village, drinking his worries away. He will stumble back at some point, as is his habit since we arrived at Marbourne."
"Verily," she insisted, more desperate now. "He is distraught. We must go to him."
"I have tried. I cannot help the boy. Whatever demons possess him, they have too strong a hold," he shrugged morosely. "Good eve, my Lady," he bid her and sauntered away.
Aileth bit back a moan of frustration. She stood alone in the courtyard, the cold wind whipping the skirts of her habit about her legs, the chill cutting into her. But little thought was needed, she had already made her decision. Without hesitation, Aileth strode to the stables and found the gentle mare she commonly rode when going to the village with Sir Nathaniel. The horse was steady and sound-footed and she would surely need those attributes this night. Unable to bridle the mare or lift a saddle onto its back, she simply tied a rope around its halter. She led the horse from the stables, the clatter of her hooves echoing loudly against the stillness of the night air. Standing on a barrel, she pulled herself onto its back. Having never ridden a horse without saddle, she felt very unassured, nevertheless, she nudged the horse out of the castle gates. She was determined not to leave Sir Nathaniel to suffer alone for her indiscretion.
Aileth found herself uttering thankful prayers for the bright moon that allowed her to see sufficiently as the mare picked her way down the steep embankment towards the village. Even with the moonlight, Aileth was petrified of plunging down the cliff that shadowed her left side. She breathed a sigh of relief when the horse's steps finally levelled out and she knew they were on solid ground once again.
It was only a short distance from there to the village tavern, though Aileth found herself questioning her intentions once she arrived. She had never entered such an establishment in her short life and had been taught by the nuns that they were dens of iniquity. But to save Sir Nathaniel, she would enter the pits of hell itself. And so, upon her arrival at the tavern, Aileth slid immediately from the horse's back. She tied the rope to a post that stood nearby then marched to the door. Hazy smoke drifted from the room as she pushed it open and the raucous commotion from within ceased when she stepped over the threshold. She scanned the room to see dozens of faces frozen in surprise at the sight of a nun in the tavern.
In the corner, her eyes came to rest on the one face she had most desired to see. Nathaniel. He looked terrible. Still as ashen as before, his hair dishevelled as if he had been pushing his fingers through it all night. He looked up and met her regard. The briefest flicker of
chagrin rose up over his expression of abject misery. He stared at her as if unsure of his own eyes.
Aileth made her way through the room of drunken men, each stepping respectfully aside as she approached. Finally she paused at Sir Nathaniel. One hand clutched his tankard tightly in a white-knuckled grip, the other lay flattened on the pitted surface of the filthy table. Aileth laid her dainty hand atop his large one.
"Come," she said simply. And he rose, not gracefully, but he rose, and stumbled after her into the cold of the night.
* * *
"Where is your horse?" she asked him when they had left the noise of the tavern behind. He mumbled something incoherent but waved his hand towards the lane that ran alongside the building. She lifted his arm over her shoulders and moved in that direction. Sure enough, the big warhorse stood patiently chewing oats from his feedbag, whilst a peasant boy stood watch near him.
"Yer back, Sir Knight," the boy spoke, becoming aware of their presence. "Tis not been as long as ye said. Do I not still earn a shilling?" he whined.
Nathaniel stuck his hand in the leather pouch at his side and sloppily tossed the silver coin at the boy.
"Thank ye, sir!" the urchin exclaimed as he scampered off.
Nathaniel dragged himself up onto the massive horse and Aileth made sure he was steady before she moved to retrieve her own. When she was also mounted she turned to the knight who sat slumped in the saddle.
"Let us get you back to the castle," she suggested. "Indulging your sorrows in ale will not help you. It will only bring you further trouble," she added compassionately.
He didn't answer but he did follow her when she prodded her horse towards the roadway.
"You are right of course," he slurred after many silent minutes. "It doesn't help. Nothing does."
Aileth slowed her horse and pulled alongside him.
"She would not want you to be unhappy or to ruin your own life," she gently chided. "She needs you now more than ever as they join the court at Woodstock Palace."
He gave her a long, searching look before he spoke again. "You are more wise than your years afford, Sister," he granted.
She raised her lips in her sweet, serene smile. "I also know something about loving what I cannot have," she uttered softly. But he had not heard, as his eyes were closed and his head bobbed on his chest.
* * *
Thankfully he roused himself as they entered the castle gates. Aileth kept her cowl pulled up to hide her face and she was grateful the guards on duty recognized Sir Nathaniel. They dismounted outside the stables. Sir Nathaniel, with the rigid discipline of knighthood, insisted they care for the horses before he would agree to go to his chambers in the barracks. When he was satisfied the horses were adequately put up for the night, they left the stables. As they exited, Sir Nathaniel stumbled and went down on one knee. Aileth knelt down beside him.
"Leave me, Sister," he mumbled. "You should be in your warm bed, not wandering in the darkness with a drunken, disgraced knight."
"Call me Aileth," she responded. "And never call yourself that." She tucked herself under his thick arm and struggled to help him rise. "You will sleep in your own bed tonight," she insisted.
He seemed to have recovered slightly by the time they reached the door of the barracks and was thankfully able to carry his own weight, relying on her only for a steadying presence.
"You mustn't be seen here, Aileth," Sir Nathaniel insisted. "Be on your way."
"Nonsense," she admonished him. "I have come this far and I will see you safely to your bed, Sir Nathaniel."
He chuckled under his breath. "Who would have thought that such a demure little mouse would have such tenacity? And if I am to call you Aileth then you must call me Nathaniel," he requested. "Very well, let us go. But silently," he pleaded.
They made their way along the quiet, darkened corridors until Nathaniel stopped in front of a door. "You have succeeded in your righteous endeavours tonight," he said, swaying slightly as he passed through the entryway.
"A few steps further and then I will have," she answered firmly, steering him towards the cot against the wall.
As they neared the bed, Aileth's foot caught in a woven mat that could not be seen in the darkness. She pitched forward and Nathaniel reached out to brace her. Instead they both tumbled headlong onto the bed. She landed on top of his hard bulk and lay frozen, unable to move for a long moment. In that space of time, she heard Nathaniel softly groan. His hands reached up to cup her face and he pulled it down to meet his questing lips. A shiver flitted through her and immediately her shock vanished, replaced with wonderment. He slid his hand up and pushed her veil from her hair. She didn't pull away as she knew she should, but instead pressed her lips more firmly against his.
Startling her, he abruptly pulled his mouth away from hers. With his hands on her arms, he put her gently but firmly from himself. He raised himself to sit on the edge of the bed and ran a shaking hand down his face.
"Words cannot express my remorse at my actions, Sister," he uttered sorrowfully.
"Aileth," she reminded him.
"Aileth," he moaned. "The truth is, I cannot bear the pain of it all. I would rather face a longboat of Norsemen than live with its anguish another day."
"Shhh," she whispered, her own heart aching for him. A need to sooth his pain rose up inside her and she leaned forward to touch her mouth to his once again. She felt his desperation as his hesitancy faded, and he returned her kiss. She spoke words of comfort against his lips and she stroked his hair, then ran her hands down his broad back. Slowly, a swirling vortex seemed to settle in her belly. She found herself longing to feel his skin beneath her palms and his touch upon her body. She pressed her fingers against the hard muscles of his chest, exploring his unique maleness. He groaned against her lips and his hands suddenly became molten, sliding over her curves and fitting themselves around her breasts. She gasped at the novel sensation but made no sound of protest as he bore her down onto the pallet and hovered over top of her. She slipped her hands tentatively beneath his tunic to feel the heat of his skin and was rewarded by a deep rumble in his chest. His mouth moved over hers once again and she felt him lift the rough wool of her skirts. But she was beyond caring. Nathaniel, the man she had come to love in such a short time, was touching her, caressing her.
She wrapped her arms around him and held him to herself. His hand lifted from her and she vaguely sensed him untie his braies. Catching her unawares, a sharp stab of burning pain between her legs made her stiffen and wince. Nathaniel kissed her softly and pressed gently, deeper within her. Before long the sensation turned from one of pain, to a pleasurable sense of fullness, and she began to move with him. Her joy at being so joined with the man she loved, extravagant. Finally, Nathaniel groaned and shuddered upon her. He stroked her cheek and rolled to his side, pulling her up against him.
For a long, peaceful moment they lay together, until finally Nathaniel's deep breathing told Aileth that he slept. Gradually, the chill of the room invaded her and she pulled herself upright. Searching around with her foot in the darkness, she managed to retrieve one of her shoes but was unable to locate the other. As she stood there in the darkness, listening to the sounds of Nathaniel's breathing, the realization of what she had given away overwhelmed her and she bolted from the room.
Silently, she navigated the empty corridors until she arrived back into the silver moonlight of the courtyard. Making her way to the keep, she berated herself for her evil wantonness. How could she have allowed herself to be so swayed by a handsome face? Even if it was one she adored? She could never return to the convent now, that much she was certain of. Suddenly the thought struck her like a sword-blow. What if she had conceived a child?
From childhood's hour
I have not been.
As others were, I have not seen.
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from
a common spring.
From the same source
&
nbsp; I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken.
My heart to joy at the same tone.
And all I loved, I loved alone.”
~Edgar Allan Poe
CHAPTER 18
Geoffrey watched his sister scurry off after the old knight. Absently he wondered what she was up to, but he had more significant issues than his sister's personal life. His uncle had made a small improvement in the last few days since Lady Madeline had insisted he take nothing but bone broth. And the way he was looking at his wife this eve didn't bode well for Geoffrey's scheme. If he wasn't mistaken, the old fossil was feeling rather amorous. Short of using his dagger, what must he do to end this old man?
They were scheduled to leave for Woodstock Palace on the morrow, where he would have even less access to the Lord and Lady of Marbourne. Thankfully he still had Muriel in his clutches. He sighed. The girl was getting downright irritating with her incessant endearments and constant snivelling about announcing their intention to wed. He couldn't believe anyone could really be so stupid. As if he, soon to be Earl of Marbourne, would actually marry a common maid. He rolled his eyes. But he needed to restrain himself and persevere. The prize was nearly within his grasp. He threw an apathetic smile in Muriel's direction and determined to speak with her later about how to once again get Lord Endle to take the potion.
When the meal finished he wandered pensively up to his room and mulled his thoughts around in his head. Whilst they were at court would be the perfect time to survey the eligible heiresses. Once he was earl, he'd have his pick. One with a considerable dowry was absolutely necessary, but it would be a bonus if she didn't also come with a horse's face. After all, he would need to get an heir on her.
