by Lisa Shea
She looked over at Philip, and a smile tweaked on her lips. “And, after all, my encountering you hasn’t been all bad.”
His eyes sparkled. “Oh?”
Her grin grew as her eyes moved to his lips. “I think I could name one aspect which has been downright enjoyable.”
His mouth lifted with amusement. “Do tell.”
Johann’s voice came low and even. “Philip, ahead.”
Philip sat up and turned his gaze with attention. A young boy with dark curls was waiting for them on the far horizon.
Philip gave his reins a shake, moving up to ride alongside Johann. The group traveled in silence as the late afternoon golds shifted to crimsons and a hawk soared high overhead.
The boy nodded as they drew close. “Strangers ahead,” he reported. “Best we go to my grandpa’s house for the night. Safer there.”
Philip looked down without expression. “And where might that be?”
The boy nudged his head to the left. “About a mile that way.”
Philip turned to gaze into the stand of oak, his brow drawing down in consideration. Then he turned to look back.
“Luigi – you’re with me. Johann and Braun, stay here and keep alert.”
The men shuffled positions, with Johann and Braun drawing on Isabel’s right and left. Philip gave her one last look, then swept the boy up before him. He and Luigi headed cross-country toward the wood.
Johann followed them with his eyes until they were out of sight, then swept his gaze steadily across the landscape. His hand settled onto the hilt of his sword.
His voice was low and even, with that rumbling trace of his Germanic heritage. “Isabel – you are a woman of many strengths.”
Isabel glanced over, curious at where this was going. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her accepting tone. He nodded, then continued. “I have fought alongside Philip for over a decade now. I would follow him into any battle. I’ll stay by his side no matter what the odds.” His eyes drew to hers for a moment. “But I tell you – you need to let him go.”
Her throat went dry. “Why?”
He gave a soft shrug. “It is in his nature. You will enjoy your time with him, certainly. And when you are gone, he will miss you. He will talk fondly of you as a part of his past.” His eyes swept the field again. “But he will move on.”
Isabel flushed. It seemed the past few days had been a deluge of adrenaline and adventure - the rush of passion that came after a near-death experience. She had barely thought past their arrival in London.
And yet …
She admitted to herself that when she looked into his eyes, it was more than a passing desire which warmed her heart. It was the knowledge that he had charged in at her side when they were outnumbered three-to-one by the hijackers. He had believed wholeheartedly in her when she had sighted land. When she plowed forward on this scheme to unmask Eric, Philip had been there at her side, determined to put into action whatever plan they decided on.
If ever there had been a man she would be proud to wed …
She looked away, toward the distant stand of trees. She had barely escaped her first marriage, one which had seemed promising at the start but which had descended into abject despair. She was not sure that she ever wanted to take that risk again.
She pitched her voice to be even. “I thank you for your warning, Johann. But Philip is a man I am traveling with, nothing more. I imagine, when we reach London, that we will go our separate ways.”
His gaze seemed to indicate he did not quite believe her, but he nodded. His voice remained a murmur. “Perhaps, tomorrow, you might ask him about his childhood.”
She glanced over, but his gaze was as inscrutable as ever. “Perhaps.”
There was movement from the trees, and Luigi and Philip rode out, side by side. Philip made a calling motion with his hand.
Johann nodded to the other two. “I have yet to see the man who could torture Philip enough to cause him to lure friends into a trap,” he offered with a wry smile. “Shall we go in?”
Three sets of hands clucked their horses, and they were in motion.
* * *
Isabel leaned back on the bench by the fire. The grandfather’s home was ancient but well kept. The ground floor was one large, open room containing a trestle table with benches and a fireplace on the opposite side. A ladder up led to a loft separated by hanging blankets. The grandfather and son would sleep together in one area, Isabel in the second, and the men in the third.
She glanced over to where Philip was in low conversation with the elderly man, discussing the road that lay ahead. Luigi was already upstairs, getting what sleep he could. Braun and Johann were scouting the surrounding area, ensuring all was safe.
She looked across at the lad who sat with his knees tucked up. He wore a simple rust-brown tunic with matching leggings. Both looked a bit too small for him. She smiled. “Where do you live, lad?”
“I’m Tom,” he answered, “And I live here. My parents died of the pox when I was young.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “Don’t remember them,” he commented. “Me and my grandpa do all right.”
“How’d you start working for Talbot?”
He shook his head without emotion. “Won’t talk about that.”
She raised an eyebrow. Apparently the man had some reputation. “That’s fine,” she responded. “Just curious. Any news on the strangers ahead?”
His eyes turned to hers, ageless and steady. “Word is, Lord Bedemor is on the road. Word is to take care.”
She shivered and nodded. No wonder Johann and the others were so edgy. It was hard enough ensuring they maintained their disguises while interacting with so many arms of this treasonous conspiracy. But Lord Bedemor was the King’s man. If he realized they were carrying a message from the Orsinis, which Erik’s network had stolen, he might very well decide to take it from them by force. And while Isabel could appreciate his loyalty, it would foil her plans to unravel this plot which had almost claimed a ship-ful of innocent lives.
A chuckle rolled within her. She would have been hard pressed to think of Lord Bedemor as being on her side in anything. It seemed life had strange twists and turns.
Braun came in, stamping his feet in the entryway. “All clear,” he reported to Philip. “Johann’s doing another sweep.”
Philip stood and moved to the fireplace. He looked down at Isabel. “Are you ready for bed?”
She nodded, standing. She climbed up the narrow ladder, moving over to her corner of the upper floor. She glanced around her curtained-off area. It was rough, but it would do.
He went to one of his bags of belongings and knelt by it. He rested a hand on it, looking up at her. “You grew up with soldiers, and you said you had to sell your sword to pay for Diggory’s debts. I assume you know how to use one?”
She gave a warm laugh at that. “Absolutely. My father made sure of that. Said I should know how to keep myself safe, if it came to that.” Warmth glowed through her. “And then when Alicia gave me Andetnes –”
He blinked in surprise. “Your sword was named Andetnes?”
Her brow creased. “Yes, why, do you know of it?”
He opened up the bag and drew out a sword in its scabbard. Even in the dim light Isabel immediately recognized it. It had been her one companion who had been true this past year. The one thing she could count on.
Her throat went dry. “But … how?”
He stood and brought it over to her. “We traveled through Paris on our way to the coast and stopped in a blacksmith’s shop to get Johann’s horse’s harness repaired. I saw this hanging on the wall and for some reason I knew I had to buy it, even though it’s too small for me.”
She could barely breathe.
He offered it to her. “Here, it is yours.”
Her voice was a croak. “But … you paid for it. You need to –”
His eyes held hers. “I need to return it to its righ
tful owner,” he murmured. “Somehow the sword has found its way back to you. I would not stand in destiny’s way.”
She took his from him, and glowing warmth settled through her as she held it once again in her hands.
She looked up into his eyes and the rightness of it flowed through her body.
He was meant for her.
Chapter 8
They were riding along a raised ridge, up above a sweeping forest of birch and oak. The comforting weight of her sword on her hip brought everything in balance. Behind her, Braun and Luigi were merrily arguing about the merits of blackberries versus raspberries in a good dessert. Philip had come back to ride at Isabel’s side, and she soaked in the warmth of his presence. Thin streaks of clouds drifted across the sun, adding a translucence to the light.
Phillip glanced over. “Sleep well?”
She gave him a soft smile. “For the first time in a long time I had no nightmares. I woke to find Andetnes at my side, to hear your voice from the floor below, and I was at peace.”
His eyes glowed with emotion. “I am glad to hear that.”
Luigi called up, “I couldn’t sleep a wink. That damned dog kept trying to push his way under my covers.”
Isabel chuckled. “He was just trying to keep warm! I had my Hilly since I was a tot. He always slept curled up against me, watching over me.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Maybe I should have married Hilly. He was a better partner than my husband ever was.”
From ahead of them, Johann gave a snort of amusement.
Isabel was reminded of their conversation yesterday – of how Johann had suggested she ask Philip about his family.
She gave her steed a pat, then looked to the side. “So, you know everything there is about me. My disappointed father, my deceased mother, the ignominious state of my failed marriage, and even my family pet. And yet you haven’t told me one word about yourself.”
Philip glanced for a moment at the back of Johann’s head, but the German maintained his leisurely pace forward, not turning. Philip’s shoulders eased in resignation, and he nodded.
“Fair enough. Well, as the fates arranged it, I was only son number two. This means my elder brother was, from birth, granted full rights to the land, the title, the income, and everything else my father had.”
Isabel nodded. “I know many soldiers who were in that situation. It was why they entered the military. Sent out of house and home as soon as they became an adult.”
Philip gave a wry smile. “Ah, but we were a special case. See, my father was a talented soldier who was lured into marrying an heiress. She was self-absorbed but she came with a keep. My mother’s family was looking for a protector for her lands – and I think my father half-believed he could settle down if given the right situation.”
Isabel nodded. “That seems a not uncommon pairing.”
He chuckled. “Well, the moment my mother was pregnant with Nathaniel, her mood worsened from self-absorbed to wholly obsessed with her growing belly. My father took about three months of this before signing up for a two year tour of duty. When he returned my mother had become absolutely enraptured with her young son to the exclusion of all else. My father gave it another shot for a few months. During that time she became pregnant with me – but each of her waking moments was dedicated to Nathaniel’s every breath.”
Philip shrugged. “That was it for my father. This time he sighed up for a six year tour with the Crusades.”
Philip watched the road ahead. “I don’t remember much from my youngest years, but the few glimpses are of my mother thoroughly enamored with Nathaniel. I don’t remember one word or look directed toward me.” He shrugged. “A nurse tended to me when she had time, but there wasn’t anything resembling love there.”
Isabel dropped her eyes. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It must have been hard on you.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t know life should be any different. By the time my father finally returned home, I was as wild and untamed as a fox. He took one look at me, swept me up, and said we were going to visit some friends.”
His gaze drifted out to the road ahead. “And that is how I spent life from age six to sixteen. We moved from location to location every two or three months. My father taught sword-work, lent his sword, and did whatever else there was to do. I acted as his squire at first, and over time I was able to help with swordwork as well. By the time I was sixteen, I was ready to head into battle myself.”
He nudged his head forward. “That is where I met this lot of gentlemen. We’ve been through Hell over the years, but a finer, more honorable group of men you won’t find anywhere.”
Johann gave a smile, but said nothing.
Isabel looked over. “Here I spent my childhood wishing to travel and see the world, and there you were actually living the life. You must have adored it.”
His gaze shadowed. “At first, I’m sure I was glad to be the center of attention. I had been neglected for so long that being my father’s sole companion was like the sun coming out after a long, gloomy winter.”
His hands traced along the reins. “But you know what? I can’t remember a single place we went. One keep after another, another curtain wall, another portcullis, another set of halls and passageways to decipher. The faces blur together into one long indistinguishable cacophony.”
He shook his head. “It’s funny. I remember I was ten, summer was coming to an end – but I couldn’t tell you a single detail about the keep I was in or the people I’d met there. All I knew, as my father prepared to pack us up for yet another transition, was that I was sick of it. I was tired of saying good-bye to people I had become fond of. I was exhausted from building attachments and coming to appreciate a place – only to have it all ripped out from underneath me.”
He reset the reins in his hands. “And so I made a vow. Even had a little ceremony, where I think I buried something under a tree. I swore I would stop allowing myself to care about places. I would be driftwood. I would go where the stream took me, keep my eyes open, appreciate what was given, and then leave. I would no longer allow those connections to entangle me. I would be completely apart.”
Isabel glanced at Johann. He had not turned, but she thought she saw a look of quiet in his eyes.
Her voice was low. “And did that help?”
He nodded. “I was able to go from place to place, from person to person, without any issues after that. And it served me well in the campaigns. Criss-crossing the forests and mountains, ending up in this town or that chateau – it all became a blur. I appreciated the colors, but did not get drawn into the whirlwind’s core.”
He lapsed into silence, and Isabel thought of how he had managed to cope with his childhood. He had endured two extremes which, even on their own, would have shattered many young souls.
* * *
They had found their boy, had settled into the crowded tavern, and Isabel’s spirits rose. The place was mobbed with pilgrims gathering to head south. There was no way the staff could possibly keep a close eye on them. Perhaps she could finally spend some time alone with Philip. After their last talk she simply wanted to hold him. To reassure him with her presence that there was at least one person who cared for him.
The waitress came by, her black hair frazzled. She laid down bowls of stew and mugs of ale from a large tray. Then she reached into a pouch on her hip and pressed two keys into Philip’s hand.
“Last two doors on the right,” she wearily explained. “We tried to hold better ones for you, but we needed the room, and the place is overstuffed as it is. If you need anything, best you come out to the bar to get it. With these crowds –”
A shout rang out from the far end of the room. “Priscilla! God’s teeth, woman - where are those ales!”
Philip gave her an understanding smile. “We’ll be fine. Go on.”
She nodded in appreciation, then scampered off to answer the call.
Isabel dug into her food and was grateful to find it was both piping hot an
d delicious. She smiled to the others. “Guess there’s a reason this place is so popular.”
Luigi looked across the room, and his face brightened. “And look! They have entertainment!”
A trio of musicians was setting up in the far corner. A willowy blond man was tuning his lute, a stocky red-head was tapping on a bodhran, and the dark-haired teen had a tambourine.
Braun smiled. “Ah, if only James was still with us. He always did love a good song.”
Isabel looked over. “James?”
Braun nodded, taking a long drink on his ale. “A finer commander a soldier could not have asked for. Whatever challenge King John set, James would find a way to rise to it. James was as loyal as they come. And somehow James would keep all his men safe at the same time.” He chuckled. “Well, as safe as one can be when driving hard into heathens who outnumber you ten to one.”
His eyes shaded. “It was a dark day when James was killed. It’s why we’re returning home – to return personal items to his family. James deserved that.”
Isabel nodded. “I’m sure he did.”
Warmth returned to Braun’s face. “James wouldn’t have wanted us to mourn him. He would have wanted us to celebrate life – and to treasure each day. To sing as if each song could set us free.”
And with that, the musicians burst into a tune.
The room joined into singing along, and Isabel laughed in delight when it finished up. The ales emptied and were refilled, the bowls were taken away, and it seemed all too soon that the musicians were taking a break.
The blond came over to their table with a smile on his lips. He looked down at Isabel. “I could hear your harmonies clear through the crowd,” he praised. “It’s a delight to have you in my audience.”
“You three are good musicians,” she responded with a smile. “I’m glad we ended up here tonight.”
He glanced across the remaining men in curiosity. “And these men are your … brothers?”
She grinned. “My companions,” she corrected.
Philip leant forward, his gaze even. “We keep an eye on her; make sure she’s all right,” he clarified.
