Protected by the Warrior

by Barbara Phinney

Nay. This was a child, with a mouth parting and drool threatening to slip from of his lips. Kenneth brushed the babe’s rosy cheek with his finger and the babe turned his head, opening his mouth as if he expected to be fed. Leaning forward, he rooted against Kenneth’s callused hand, not minding the rough skin in his search for milk.

  The knot forming in Kenneth’s throat tightened further as he realized how close his sword had come to this babe.

  What had he been thinking?

  He had fought all his adult life, fought for a king older than he, rounder than he, and with power and control that stretched well past Normandy.

  Yet, in this moment, this short, soft breath of time, he would have surely disregarded all he knew and had protected to fight for this small babe.

  He would die for this babe.

  As Clara was willing to do.

  A thrum of pounding hooves drew his gaze and he quickly recovered his sword. Around the corner came Lord Adrien, pulling the gift mare to a fast halt.

  Kenneth could do nothing but try to straighten for his baron. But ’twas a weakened effort, one that elicited a grim snort from the man before him.

  ’Twould be a long ride home.

  And, he thought, his breath sharp as he pulled it in, Lord Adrien was here, but...

  “My lord, where are Clara and Rowena?”

  “Clara is comforting Rowena. They’re probably walking back to Dunmow.”

  Alarm shot through him, for the walk was long and dangerous and both had had difficult days up to now. “We left them!”

  “Aye, for good reason. One I see you finally understand.” Adrien dismounted. “When I first laid eyes on my own babe, I swore to myself I would do everything in my power to protect him. Even my duty to William is not that strong.” He stepped over to peer down at the wide-eyed child tucked tight against Kenneth’s chest. “And this child is not your own. Imagine what you will feel then.”

  “I have no wife.”

  “Then you should get back and see if you can’t change that.”

  A need as strong as the one that had brought him here now surged through his blood and choked his words. Kenneth could not think. His baron stood beside him waiting for an answer, but Kenneth couldn’t form one, for he knew not what to say.

  But he did need to see Clara.

  The downed soldier’s pacing pony stood in the center of the road, ears tucked in fear, having backed away from the intimidating courser. He needed that mount for the babe’s sake, but could only pray it would get him and the babe back to Clara in time.

  * * *

  “Clara. Clara?”

  She could feel someone rearranging the furs around her face and fought the heavy pull of slumber. But with such sleep, her dreams had been harsh and cruel, mixed with Normans and horses and, oddly, the smithy. She began to cough and a warm, strong hand turned her from her back to her side.

  Opening her eyes, Clara stared at the dark tunic of a man. When she was finished hacking, the man laid her back down again.

  A man? The smithy? Nay, not him, but a profile of the man she’d bound in Broad Oak Forest. She gasped, shrinking away even as she sat up quickly. Now she knew where she’d seen him before. That man had been standing outside of the shop, watching her! “You! You were at the smithy’s shop! And you saw me there!”

  “Nay, Clara. ’Tis me, Kenneth.”

  From the blur of sleep, she focused on the man leaning over her. Kenneth! She sagged. “I thought you were the first man I tied up, the one I hit with the rock. I’d seen his profile before, at the smithy’s shop. He was there, coming up behind me!”

  Kenneth turned up the lamp. “Aye. I’d venture a guess that he saw a wisp of that red hair of yours. Remember when you said the wimple was too small for your thick hair? I suspect a small lock escaped or he noticed your eyebrows. I know I heard you gasp when the smithy mentioned the bog, so I imagine he did, also. He knew you were the midwife. Like me, that gasp told him exactly what he needed to know.”

  “But he didn’t grab me and take me to Taurin!”

  “Nay, he probably wanted to check the bog first. In fact, he sought out Harry and looked at the maps to find where it was.”

  Clara shut her eyes. Kenneth pulled her closer and she gripped him back. “I have been so unfair to you! ’Twas that man who saw me and guessed the truth! And I blamed you for telling Taurin!”

  “’Twas reasonable to think,” he whispered back into her hair. “But you must lie down. You’ve caught a fever from your walk.”

  Clara let him ease her to the pallet. There, she looked around. She was back in her home in Dunmow.

  Home? How was this possible? She and Rowena had been walking. ’Twas the last she remembered.

  She cried out. Rowena? Nay, had she—

  “Clara, what’s wrong?”

  She swiped away her eyes. “Everything. Where is Rowena? We lost her babe, for Taurin snatched it and everything we worked for was for naught.”

  “Rowena is up in the keep and is quite safe. We left the cook in charge of her, and she’s resting in the maids’ room with her babe.”

  “Her babe?” A shocked smile danced across her lips. “How?”

  “’Tis a long story and you need some hot broth in you first. Your walk back to Dunmow was difficult, and you and Rowena were both feverish when the miller found you. He brought you back.”

  Kenneth stood and left her small chamber. A hearty fire crackled, warming the entire room, but Clara refused to remove the heavy furs covering her. A moment later, he returned with a steaming bowl on a long wooden platter.

  The offer of food coaxed her to push the furs from her face. Clara spied a soft, delicious trencher of bread beside the bowl. She tried to sniff, but her nose felt stopped with rags.

  “I’m full of cold,” she said.

  “You had a fever, also,” Kenneth added, setting the food down on a low table. “You tossed and turned all night.”

  She sat up woozily. “How long have I been here?”

  “Only a day, but you and Rowena were barely conscious when you arrived.”

  She threw off the furs. “I must go to her!”

  “Nay.” Kenneth gently pushed her back. “The cook found another mother to help her. I told you that she and the babe are fine.”

  Falling back, Clara shook her head. “I pledged never to hurt anyone, and I hurt Rowena, and that man when I hit him with the rock....”

  Kenneth sat beside her on the edge of her pallet and poured a small amount of broth into a cup. “Your pledge was an honorable gesture. But ’twas not proper as a Christian to take all of that burden solely onto yourself.” He placed the cup into her hands. “You believed you could do it all without His help.”

  “I prayed all the time that He would keep Rowena safe and help me.”

  “There were many around you, given to you to help with that very task, but you wouldn’t let us.”

  She set the cup down. “You wanted to hand her over to Lord Taurin!”

  Kenneth frowned, his lips tightening. “Aye, ’tis true, and for that I owe both of you my deepest regrets. I was wrong. I realized that when I took him in my arms.”

  “You held him?”

  “Aye. And ’twas as if my stomach twisted and turned like an acrobat. I can’t explain it. But I knew, deep down, that how I felt before was very wrong.”

  “What was Taurin going to do with the babe? A child is a big responsibility.”

  “Aye. But Taurin wasn’t that honorable. He wanted the babe, but not for anything noble.”

  “Not for anything noble?” She echoed his words. “What do you mean?”

  “His wife’s family had promised him great tracts of land should his wife bear a son. She was their only child and well loved. When she couldn’t conceive, he bought Rowena because her family convinced him she would bear him a son. He planned to take her son, kill his wife and present the babe to his in-laws as their grandson. The land they’d have given him would have rivaled King William�
�s, for they are quite wealthy and related to King William’s father, Duke Robert.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Taurin is in the keep’s dungeon, separated from his men and awaiting word from the king. He has admitted a lot of this, but is saying that he did it to relieve his in-laws of the land so he could present it to the king. They threatened William’s control in southern Normandy because their lands lie in Brittany and Maine. But I suspect the king will see through Taurin’s lies.”

  “It has worked out for the best, then, despite all my efforts.”

  “God has a plan for everyone, even Rowena. ’Tis coming to fruition, for she has given her life to Him.”

  “And the worst of it all was when I accused you!”

  He toyed with her hair, for it was loose, shooting out in all directions. “I’m not a child, Clara, to bear a grudge over words spoken hastily in anger. Aye, your words hurt me, but I also needed them to learn that I’m not always right, either. When I learned Taurin had arrived here and I took you out of the village, I was just doing what you did. I assumed I could fix everything.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I know that I have to trust in the Lord and His plan. And finally I understand what I truly want.” He buried his fingers deep in her hair and lowered his face closer to hers. Their noses nearly touched. Her heart pounded.

  “What do you want?”

  He paused. A noise in the outer room caught their attention. Someone was entering the hut. Brindi called out, “Kenneth? Are you here?”

  He looked back at Clara, and she wished that Brindi had waited a few more moments. “Here isn’t the best place for us to talk. There’s so much to say.”

  He called out to Brindi to come into the chamber. Clara forced a smile as her sister bounced into the little room.

  * * *

  Clara felt much better after eating, and rose to find the day half-gone. With Kenneth and Brindi close on her heels, Clara visited Rowena at the keep. The young woman glowed when she told Clara she would be given a home in a nearby village, near an estate belonging to a friend of Lord Adrien’s. Several of the villagers, and even Lady Ediva, had rallied behind the new mother, showering her with gifts and foodstuffs enough to ensure a good start in their new life. Clara returned to her home satisfied the babe was stronger than he’d ever been.

  Later, reported by Brindi, Lord Eudo had arrived with a platoon of men. Kenneth then excused himself to return to the keep.

  Even later still, a knock sounded at the door. Clara’s heart leaped. She’d not seen or spoken to Kenneth since he’d become busy with the logistics of providing a welcome to the baron’s brother and his men.

  Brindi skipped over to the door. Since seeing Rowena’s child, she was as happy as summer flowers, laughing now as she threw open the door.

  Kenneth. His expression was cool and distant as he stepped into their hut. “Brindi, I need to speak with Clara alone.”

  The air around Clara chilled. Was it possible that he had rethought his actions and decided that the time they’d spent together was best forgotten? That they were an ill-matched pair and ’twas no use encouraging a relationship?

  Brindi, head down, slipped outside.

  “Don’t go far!” Clara warned.

  Kenneth closed the door firmly behind him.

  “Lord Eudo has brought a platoon of men to accompany Lord Taurin to London. He also sent a missive ahead to the king about Taurin’s disgraceful behavior.”

  “And Taurin’s wife? Did he really kill her?”

  “Thankfully, nay. He had not yet placed that part of his plan into action. She will return to Normandy, however.”

  Clara bit her lip. The woman would surely face disgrace and shame and be forced to live out her life like a spinster daughter.

  “How could he have believed he’d succeed? There were too many people who knew the truth.”

  “Only here in England. He had enough influence over his staff that they would lie for him. And once he had possession of the lands from his in-laws, he would have felt even more secure.”

  “’Twas a bold and dangerous plan.”

  “Aye. Taurin planned to say that his wife died birthing the babe, and since his staff here in England would never go to Normandy, he felt sure that her parents would never learn the truth. But the king will not be impressed with this treachery.”

  Kenneth stepped closer to her. “Clara, you would have been the only one who knew with certainty that Rowena birthed that babe. And you were the only one who had no loyalty to him. He not only sought out the child, but hoped to kill you and Rowena, also.”

  She nodded. All of this explanation, all this was simple reporting of the end of the story. ’Twas why he came here. Not to see her. Not to continue their earlier talk. Her heart wrenched in her chest. She straightened, determined not to show her hurt.

  “But you’re safe now, Clara.”

  “Oh.” Is this all he’s come for? Her heart confirmed her worst fear. She was too stubborn, not thinking of anyone but herself. This was God’s way of telling her not to charge through life.

  Kenneth paused, then with a small shake of his head, he pulled a doll from his inner pocket. With her wizened face and rope hair, she looked like an old hag, but somehow he’d carved a smile into it and shoved bits of bone in for teeth. The body was soft and the dress was a lovely blue, sewn with care.

  “For Brindi. Margaret finished the body, though it doesn’t match the head much.”

  Clara swallowed, remembering her foolish jealousy that day in the bailey when Kenneth spoke to Margaret. “Brindi will treasure it.”

  He set the doll on the table. “Clara, there is much to discuss.”

  She lifted her hand to interrupt him. “I need to think on all you’ve said about me doing things on my own. I’ve been charging along in my life.” She heaved a sigh. “You see, I took in Rowena because ’twas right and proper to do so, but ’twas not my only reason. I did it because I was determined to show that I knew what was right. I was arrogant. I must learn not to be so.”

  “True.”

  She tamped down on her sudden indignation. Oh, she had so much to learn. “And also, Kenneth, you must learn that sometimes the right way is not your way, either.” She shook her head. “Wait, ’tis not meant as a slur against you.” She rushed out her words before her bravery dissolved. “I want you in my life, but unless I ask God what He wants, I’m just returning to my old ways, something I do not want to do.”

  She stood resolute before him. Finally, he nodded. “This must be God’s will for us, and since you haven’t felt led to be with...” He trailed away.

  Then, without another word, he spun on his heel and left her home.

  She slumped onto the bench and dropped her head to her hands. Oh, how easy ’twas for him to let her go. Were they meant to be together? Or were the emotions in her heart, those trappings of his honor and duty, fooling her into thinking ’twas for love he’d stayed with her, even after Taurin left?

  Lord, show me what You really want for my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kenneth’s patience stretched thin the next few days. Attempting to respect her wishes, he’d avoided Clara as one avoided a deadly fever. He prayed at chapel services, at the back, away from all the others and buried deep in the ranks of soldiers who stood apart from the Saxon villagers. He stared at the priest to prevent his eyes searching for Clara, until he was surprised the old chaplain didn’t have a hole burned right through his forehead.

  He threw himself wholly into training, taking the initiative of ensuring all the men knew how to capture and incarcerate men of all rankings. He ensured all the horses were shod properly and ordered a stockpile of peat to be stacked behind the smithy’s shop. He worked morning to dark, then retired early, even before the men he worked so hard.

  Anything and everything to avoid thinking of Clara.

  But always thinking of her.

  Later, at the bog where they wer
e harvesting the last of the best-quality peat, he stepped into that hut again and was sure he caught the light scent of herbs that was uniquely Clara. He stooped to retrieve the pot she’d left by the small fire pit, and he considered returning it to her.

  Nay. She’d said ’twas not God’s will for them. What would be the point in torturing himself? He’d seen her enough, also, as she went about her duties with smiles for all whom she met. Lady Ediva and her new babe were strong, mostly due to Clara’s daily devotion to them. When she wasn’t there in the solar, she was with milady’s maid, Margaret, who took over the duties of seeing to the health of all the village children. Like him, Clara had thrown herself into her work and was obviously enjoying it.

  Still clutching the pot, Kenneth shut his eyes. But still, Lord, if it be Your will, give me Clara, the willing, loving Clara that I have seen so much of.

  All he heard in response was the men working outside.

  A week later, Harry reported to him that Lord Adrien was ordering him into his office. There, Adrien sat at his desk, a long missive in one hand, a map Kenneth had not seen before in the other. His expression was grim as he told Kenneth to shut the door.

  * * *

  Rowena was to be dispatched to a village to the north, and Clara was to help her settle in. Lord Adrien had asked a fellow Norman there to allow her to start her life again under his protection. Clara had heard that this Norman was a fair man, loyal to the king and put there to protect royal lands in an area near Ely, a seat of much unrest. The man would assign the hut to her. After Rowena was settled and had learned as much as possible for her, Clara would return to Little Dunmow. She and Rowena would say their goodbyes with tears and prayers, but all would work out for Rowena.

  Meanwhile, the week had been quiet for Clara. She had been given a pregnant rabbit for payment for a healing. ’Twas a grand gift, for only landowners had rabbit warrens, and no one was allowed to hunt them in the king’s forest.

  Brindi was thrilled with the animal. For a time, Clara kept the rabbit with the hens, knowing that she needed to build another coop soon, for the hens would kill the litter as soon as they were born.

  The sun had begun to dip lower to the trees by the time Clara and Brindi had fashioned a decent cage. “Won’t the mama rabbit chew through the netting, Clara? She eats everything we put in front of her.”