Finding Peace - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 2)

by Lisa Shea

  Richard was offering his hand, and she took it, the strength and warmth infusing her as powerfully as any tonic she might take. She looked up into his eyes and saw the tension which lay behind them. It occurred to her suddenly that he had bit his tongue throughout the heated argument, not interfering with her interactions with Corwin. She could see the effort of will it had taken him, the pain he had endured by keeping silent.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, moving a hand to run it through his thick hair.

  His eyes held her steadily, the moss-green warm and tender. “I would give my life for you,” he murmured. “If what you require instead is for my soul to be flayed for a few hours each night, I will persevere.”

  “Oh, Richard,” she sighed, and then she was pressed up against him, her lips finding his, and his arms came up around her, holding her tightly against him. His kiss was strong, and deep, and she became lost in the pleasure, holding nothing back from him.

  There was a deep clearing of a throat to her other side, and Corwin’s voice was tight with annoyance. “Surely my older brother can do better than that,” he commented snidely. “That barely is the beginning of how a kiss could feel; the feeling of power that is released. You remember, Elizabeth, like you experienced in front of the cottage.”

  A ripple of tension ran through Richard’s shoulders, and he let the kiss linger for another tantalizing moment before pulling back slightly, looking down into her eyes. His gaze was steady, sure, and she drew strength from it.

  Her eyes never left his. “Come, my dear, let us head back to the nunnery,” she murmured to him. “We have a long trek in front of us in the morning, and we both need some rest.” The corners of his mouth eased slightly, and he nodded at her, then at his brothers, before tucking her hand into his arm and escorting her from the room.

  They saddled their steeds side by side, a servant taking care of Claire’s horse, and in a moment they were mounting and walking through the main courtyard. There was a clatter of hooves as Corwin came trotting up to join them.

  “A good host sees his friends safely home,” he commented, his eyes moving between the three. “Shall we be off?”

  Elizabeth did not reply, pulling in more closely alongside Richard, and he smiled at her, moving in the moonlight beneath the main arches. Claire remained before them, and the group made its way through the quiet night, the dirt path wending its way through grassy meadows.

  Corwin’s voice interrupted the soft hoot of an owl in the distance. “When we get home, Elizabeth, you probably want me to do the talking with your father. He may be moving toward a reconciliation, but he is still fairly annoyed with your running away like that. He and I are good friends. I am sure with some effort I can smooth things over.”

  A stab of annoyance lanced into Elizabeth’s shoulder, and she shook it off with effort. She turned to look at Richard, on her right. “When we arrive at my family home we should first seek out Father Godfrey and find out exactly what has been happening,” she informed him smoothly. “We can discover how ill my father is and what must be done.”

  He nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. Get all the facts in hand before acting.”

  Corwin scoffed. “As if that doddering old fool really knows what is going on around him,” he pointed out. “Where was he when your brother was being sent off to die? Did he ever take any action to protect you from your father? I am the one who stepped in and began to make real changes.”

  Elizabeth’s emotions roiled. He was right, in a way. Father Godfrey had many good traits, but he had never tried to interfere with her father’s harsh rule.

  She took in a deep breath. This was how Corwin worked – taking pieces of truth and weaving them into his machinations. She had to build her resistance to it.

  She looked over at Richard and he nodded quietly. “Words can be as jagged as a rusty sword’s blade,” he murmured. “But neither cause injury if properly deflected.”

  Elizabeth gave him a ghost of a smile. “Or avoided all together,” she returned.

  Corwin’s voice was tight. “You know all about avoidance,” he snapped. “You avoided your marriage vows, you avoided your duty to protect your home from attack, and you avoided your father’s orders.”

  It came to Elizabeth’s mind suddenly, as clear as a ringing church bell, as brilliant as the morning sun streaming into her practice ring.

  She could avoid engaging in Corwin’s verbal jousts as well.

  There was no commandment which made her answer. There was no real reason to listen to what he said. She knew the words would be poisoned, hurtful, and meant to manipulate her. All she had to do is let them flow off of her, shed them from her body like a well placed deflection moved a sword out of harm’s way. She would turn, pivot, and the skewers would drift harmlessly past her.

  She gazed up at Richard, and he gave her an encouraging nod, a smile coming to his lips.

  Corwin’s voice became sharper. “What, afraid to even discuss it now, are you? Has your time away from me turned you coward?”

  Elizabeth’s voice came out in a gentle murmur, and her eyes were only for Richard. “You know,” she suggested, “this ride could end up being fairly tedious, to deal with all the noise and chaos. Besides, winter is coming on. Maybe we should wait for the spring. That would give us several months to spend time together, in the security of the nunnery, just you and me. What do you think?”

  Corwin’s tone was tight with outrage. “But you and I must return to your father’s side!”

  Richard’s eyes twinkled. “If it is your wish to remain in the quiet of the nunnery, spending our days together in peace, then I will absolutely support you in that.”

  Elizabeth found she could barely hold in a relieved laugh. “Peace and quiet does sound quite appealing to me right now,” she grinned.

  There was a muffled snort at her other side, but incredibly Corwin remained utterly silent for the rest of the ride back to the nunnery’s gates.

  Chapter 16

  Michelle’s eyes were brimming with tears as she stood with Elizabeth in the center of the courtyard, the faintest hints of morning light barely edging through the dense, dark grey clouds which drifted overhead.

  The girl’s voice was shaky with sadness. “But why do I have to stay behind?” she pleaded. “I can be a help. You saw how good I was on our way here. I can lead the horses and gather firewood. I promise I will not be any trouble at all.”

  Elizabeth ran a hand fondly down her short hair, pulling Michelle in close. “You could not be any trouble,” she assured her, “and it is because you are so talented that your place is here by Claire’s side. You know how much she has come to depend on you already. She says you are her right hand woman and absolutely indispensable.”

  “I am?” asked the girl, looking up with glittering eyes.

  Claire’s voice was rich and soothing. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “With the new funds provided by the twins, we can now afford a stronger guard presence to keep us safe. Who will help me get all those men settled, learn how things work here?” Her mouth tweaked up into a smile. “And more guards will naturally mean more injuries, more illnesses. How could I lose my best nurse just as we head into the coldest months of the year?”

  Elizabeth dropped down to one knee at the girl’s side. “And besides, Simon has been quite impressed with your swordplay these past days. He asked me specifically if he could watch over your training while I was away. He has always wanted an apt pupil to teach his techniques to.”

  “He said that?” squeaked Michelle, her eyes tracking up to the wall of the gate. Simon was standing over the main doors, and he gave a wave, watching over the trio of women with a steady eye.

  Michelle wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I suppose, if it means so much to everyone, that I shall stay and do my part.”

  “That is my girl,” praised Elizabeth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It is only because I know you will be here, keeping an eye on everything, that I feel willing
to head back home.”

  “I will not let you down,” promised Michelle, her eyes shining.

  Elizabeth tousled her hair fondly. “I know you will not.”

  Simon’s voice called out across the crisp morning air. “Two riders approaching.”

  Claire pulled Elizabeth into a hug, holding her for a while. “You stay safe,” she whispered in her ear before pulling back.

  Elizabeth smiled comfortingly at her friend. “I will be fine,” she assured her. She turned as Susan brought over her horse, and together they all walked toward the closed main gates.

  Simon came down the steps with another guard, and with a heave they pulled back the heavy wooden bar. They latched their hands through the leather loops on the doors and pulled hard, swinging the gate open for her.

  Elizabeth moved through the stone arch into the quickening breezes as Corwin and Richard drew up to the gates side by side. Both men dismounted easily, moving to stand before her.

  Corwin’s voice was bright with energy. “About time we got you back home,” he stated. “Your vacation was just enough to make your father’s heart grow fonder. Any longer and he might have forgotten about you completely.”

  Simon looked steadily at Richard. “You take care of her,” he instructed in a hoarse voice. “See that she makes it there safely.”

  Corwin scoffed. “I am her intended, and I am right here,” he pointed out. “If anybody is keeping an eye on this woman, it will be me.”

  Richard ignored him, his eyes steadily on Simon’s, nodding. “I take my responsibility very seriously,” he agreed. “She will be safe.”

  Simon gave him one last look, then turned to Elizabeth, drawing her in to a warm hug. “You be careful,” he murmured. “Winter is coming, and bandits can get desperate.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Well do I know it,” she responded, pulling back. “I have lived with that threat all my life. I know how to handle it.”

  She smiled fondly at Claire and Michelle, then she climbed up onto her mount and took the leather reins surely in her hands. Despite all her misgivings, it felt good to be in the saddle, good to be turning her horse’s head and pointing him toward the far off mountains. As much as she had enjoyed seeing the ocean, enjoyed the skittering shore birds and tangy salt air, a part of her did long for the high mountains, for the craggy rocks of her homeland.

  If her father would have to be there too, she would just have to learn how to deal with him.

  With a gentle nudge she set her steed into motion, and Richard and Corwin closed in on either side.

  *

  The rain held off for a half hour at most before it descended from the sky, first in gentle patters, then in steadily increasing sheets until the road before them had become a muddy stream. Elizabeth welcomed the storm. While the steady onslaught of water chilled her, dancing its way down her spine, it also meant that Corwin’s mouth was mercifully kept shut. He would have been hard pressed to keep up his steady assault through the loud drumming of water on dirt. They rode with their hoods up, the trio moving inexorably side by side toward the west.

  They stopped briefly for a quick meal by the raging tumult of a stream which was overflowing its banks, then pressed on to get as far as they could before the deep grey eased into a darker night. Finally, they were drawing up to a collection of run-down buildings which seemed vaguely familiar to her. As they came to the stables, she realized that it was Hyde’s inn. A smile came to her lips. She’d like to see how it was doing under new management. She turned her horse’s head, and in a moment the three of them were brushing down their steeds and settling them into their stalls.

  A quick sprint across the open courtyard and they were in the main dining area, the same fire blazing in the hearth, apparently the same elderly man snoozing in a chair before it. She chuckled. Some things never did seem to change. There were footsteps, and she turned …

  Her mouth dropped open. Hyde’s pudgy face was flushed with ale, his eyes drank in her form from the ground up, and when they reached her face he started back in surprise. “And what do you want?” he snapped.

  Richard’s voice was a low growl. “I thought you were hauled in for justice.”

  Hyde’s eyes flickered to Corwin, just for a moment, and outrage streamed through Elizabeth. She rounded on him. “You had something to do with this swine walking free?”

  His eyes were stone cold. “And just what exactly was there to go on?” he snapped. “The ramblings of an orphan girl who dressed like a scavenger? And you, did he actually touch you?”

  Elizabeth’s face flared with heat. “No, but he -”

  Corwin’s sneer filled her vision. “He what, he hurt your delicate sensibilities? And you think yourself worthy of defending a keep in the mountains?”

  Hyde’s high voice burst into their argument. “I run a respectable establishment here!” he insisted. “I want you all out!”

  Elizabeth’s hand flashed to the hilt of her sword, and Richard was before her in an instant, his hand going to her arm. “I will take care of this later,” he vowed. “We should move on, and not give him the satisfaction.”

  Elizabeth knew he was right, but it was a long moment before she could nod, could unwrap the tense fingers from around the hilt and turn. She yanked open the door, stared at the pounding rain which lay beyond, and stormed out into it. She drew to a halt half-way into the courtyard, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the thundering water wash her clean of the filth she felt coating every pore of her skin.

  A rushing of feet raced past her on the left, but to the right a steady pair moved to stand beside her. Long moments passed as the cold rain pelted her body, draining away the slime and disgust.

  A call shook her from the stables. “What, are you daft, woman? Get in and get your horse ready.”

  She blinked open her eyes, looking up at Richard. He nodded, and in a moment the two moved in, side by side, to prepare their horses.

  The night had become pitch dark as they headed out again. They had barely gone a half mile before Richard slid from his horse, moved to the front, and took Elizabeth’s and his reins in his hands, leading the two steeds through the mud with careful attention. Elizabeth could hear Corwin cursing at his steed from the other side, but thankfully much of his ill-tempered rant was lost in the dense storm. Time moved at a crawl as her cloak became even more saturated, pulling down on her shoulders. It seemed an eternity before the lights of the next inn drew into view, before they moved into the relief of the stables, wiping off the weary steeds and getting them settled.

  She did not even bother to quicken her pace as she crossed the courtyard to the inn’s front door, already as waterlogged as was possible on this long night. She pushed her way within, waiting for the two men before turning to close the door behind her. She shook off the drenched cloak, ignoring the large puddle that immediately began to form beneath it, and turned.

  And stopped.

  It was the inn. It was where she had first seen Richard on a night which seemed both so long ago and just a heartbeat away. He had been sitting there, at that empty table, with the two rambunctious children on either side of him. She had seen his moss-green eyes and had been lost …

  Corwin pushed past her, heading over to the table, and in a moment her feet were in motion, following him. She sat down at the chair in the center back, the chair Richard had been sitting in, and he settled in at her right. In a second, a pair of buxom shapes had moved over to stare down at them.

  The redhead spoke up first. “Why, here is a sight for sore eyes. Corwin, Richard, it has been many years since we saw the two of you in here together. Finally put the hatchet in those old quarrels, have we?”

  Richard nodded in greeting to her. “Anna, it has been a while. How is your father’s leather shop doing?”

  She shrugged. “Same as always, enough to keep us fed, but not enough to cover his gambling debts.”

  The blonde leant forward, her eyes gleaming. “Wil
l you be needing any extra care tonight, Corwin?”

  Corwin’s eyes ran down her form with interest, then he reined himself back and glanced over at Elizabeth. “Mathilde, my darling, let me introduce you to the woman who will be my wife. This is Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with ire, but before she could speak Mathilde was drawing her into a boisterous hug. “You are a lucky girl,” she shouted out. “This man is one of the most generous I have ever met.” She turned and called to the room. “Corwin is getting himself hitched! Ales all around!”

  A hearty cheer went up around the room and Elizabeth shook her head. It was not even worth arguing about. Soon enough they would be gone and well rid of this place.

  The women were back in a moment, setting down mugs of ale and bowls of stew. Calls came from all sides as mugs were distributed, and Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed more brightly at each shout.

  Richard’s voice was gentle in her ear. “They are toasting your strength and value,” he pointed out to her. “Take pride in that.”

  She downed half her ale. They were toasting free alcohol being deposited on their table, and not much more. She focused on the stew before her, her body slowly warming back up as it dried out in the close quarters of the room.

  There was a movement above them, and the blonde was back, her grin wide. With a quick flop she had sprawled herself across Richard’s lap. “I suppose you are the free one of the evening, then,” she purred.

  Richard’s look was gentle but firm. “You have many other opportunities here tonight, Mathilde,” he advised her. “You had best try your luck elsewhere.”

  She stood with a pout. “You are never interested,” she huffed. She turned to stalk across the room toward a pair of farmers.

  Corwin’s eyes followed her as she went. “You should have given her a go,” he advised his brother. “She has this amazing thing she does with her hips.”

  Elizabeth had had quite enough of this. She downed the rest of her ale in one gulp. “I am heading to bed,” she snapped.