A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy)

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A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) Page 20

by Lana Williams


  Alyna shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “Don’t you want to rest a bit, Nicholas? You need to be careful of your back.”

  “Nay, Mama. I want to watch them joust.”

  Lord Blackwell chuckled. “I’m afraid I’ve been bragging a bit about the jousting practice in an effort to lure him out here with me. Come, join us, Alyna.”

  “Aye, Mama.”

  Alyna looked up again at Nicholas, wishing she could keep him safely inside where nothing could hurt him.

  “Please,” he added, giving her his best pitiful pleading look. “Come with us.”

  How could she resist such an invitation? Hopefully she’d be able to divert her grandfather’s attention from anything unusual Nicholas might say. “Why, thank you, kind sirs. I’d be honored to join you.”

  They walked companionably for a short distance before her grandfather broke the silence. “I hear Nicholas had a scare.”

  “Aye. It gave me a fright as well, but he seems to be none the worse for the wear.” Quite the opposite. He was obviously thrilled with the view from his new perch, and his back seemed to bother him very little.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Things around here have been quite...” Alyna hesitated as she struggled to find the right word.

  “Eventful?”

  “Indeed,” she agreed with a chuckle.

  Her grandfather lifted Nicholas down, and he ran ahead.

  The little boy spotted a stick and seemed to find it suitable as a new sword. “Look, Mama!” The joy on his face at the simple discovery made Alyna laugh.

  “Very nice,” she called back.

  “I would like to thank you for all of your help last eve,” her grandfather said.

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

  “I’ve noticed. Although a full day has not yet passed, the villagers whose homes were damaged have most of the possessions they lost replaced as well as plenty of food.” He stopped to face her. “They’ve all been quite generous in their praise of you. I can’t thank you enough for seeing to their needs.”

  Alyna felt her face flush with both embarrassment and pleasure at his words. “As I said, I’m pleased to be of use.”

  “You work far too hard, Alyna.”

  “I only do what needs to be done.” She shrugged, for that was truly the way she felt.

  “You’re a lot like her, you know.”

  “Who?” Alyna searched his face. “My mother?” she asked, guessing the path of his thoughts.

  “Aye,” he confirmed. “At times it pains me to watch you, you remind me of her so.”

  Commiseration filled Alyna. She placed her hand on his arm. “I miss her, too. Every day.”

  He nodded in agreement and patted her hand. After a few more steps, he stopped again. “I’m not sure how close you are to your father.” He paused as though waiting for her response.

  Alyna sighed. “I’ve tried so hard for so long to please him.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “I feel as though I’ve never been able to earn his love.”

  Blackwell put a hand on her shoulder. “Alyna, you shouldn’t have to earn anyone’s love. Love is something freely given, not a reward for hard work or good behavior.”

  She pondered his words, realizing the wisdom of them. “I suppose Father’s lack of regard for me has changed my outlook on love.”

  “Catherine was not overly pleased with me for the match I made for her, but I was certain I knew what was best. Your father had a small but strong holding and what I thought was a promising future. Before you were born, he became involved with barons who rumbled of their dissatisfaction with King Henry. I tried to warn him of the danger of such an association, but he wouldn’t listen. I fear that association continues to lead him to trouble.”

  He rubbed his chin as he looked at the distant horizon. “After I confronted him about it, he made it difficult for me to see Catherine and nearly impossible to see you. Soon after her death, I left England on business for the king. I was gone much longer than I had anticipated. After Catherine’s death, I should’ve stayed and insisted on being part of your life, regardless of what your father wanted. I will always regret that, Alyna.”

  Unsure of what to say, Alyna kept her gaze on the men in the field below them. “I was lost after Mother died, but I had Charles and Enid.” She turned to face him and could see the loneliness that lay just under the surface. “Whom did you have, Grandfather?”

  “If I had no one, it was my own fault.” He sighed heavily. “Guilt and regret. Those have been my companions these many years.” After a pause, he asked, “Did she speak of me?”

  “Always. I heard many stories, all spoken with love.” She was relieved to be able to tell him the truth. “While I know I cannot make up for the loss of my mother, I hope I can provide you with some measure of comfort during my stay here.”

  “You already have, my dear,” he reassured her. “You and this little ray of sunshine you brought with you.” He gestured to Nicholas. “That is quite a task you’ve undertaken.”

  “What do you mean?” Unease rippled through her.

  “Alyna, Nicholas may be your son in many ways, but he is not of your own flesh and blood.”

  She stared at him, uncertain how to respond.

  “Although I’ve been out of the country, I have sources of information with whom I’ve kept in touch. None of those ever reported you marrying or you heavy with child. After much reflection on the matter, I added up the facts and confirmed them with Charles. You are a brave woman to raise a child who isn’t yours.”

  “I have no intention of breaking my vow to raise Nicholas.” She felt it best to be clear about her plan.

  “No one asked that of you.” He smiled as he watched Nicholas play.

  “Please do not tell anyone of this. He is mine in every way that counts.” She thought of how Florence would treat Nicholas if she knew the truth and nearly shuddered.

  Blackwell nodded. “I will leave the telling to you. Let me just say that by the looks of the boy, you’re doing a fine job of raising him. He is a good child.”

  Both pride and relief filled her. “He makes it quite easy for me.” She wondered how much more her grandfather knew. Had Charles told him of Nicholas’s gift of second sight? She thought it unlikely, but would confirm it with Charles at the first opportunity.

  “Mama! Mama!” Nicholas ran towards her, one hand behind his back.

  “What is it?”

  With a smile bright enough to compete with the sun, he presented her with a small purple flower.

  “Why, thank you. It’s beautiful,” she said, as she took it from his hand and granted him a kiss.

  His smile still in place, he skipped off, searching for another treasure.

  “I hope you will stay here with me for a time, Alyna. You and the boy.”

  “I think I would like that.” Alyna spun the flower between her fingers, trying to work up the courage to get answers to the questions she’d had since her arrival. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I do not want you to marry Tegmont. I knew of no other way to stop it.” He shook his head. “I’m not your legal guardian and have no say in your betrothal. I ask that you be patient with me. There are plans in place that will remove Tegmont from his title. I can tell you no more. Can you wait until the time comes when I can reveal additional details?”

  “I can, but I worry, Grandfather.”

  “Worry of what?”

  “Of my father. Of what Tegmont has done or will do to him for the breaking of our marriage contract.” Alyna felt better for sharing her concern.

  “That crossed my mind as well,” Blackwell said. “I will see what I can find out on the matter.”

  “It would ease my mind.”

  “And mine as well.” He called to Nicholas then told Alyna, “Enough of this gloomy discussion. Let us see how the knights are doing at their joust. Then, we’ll attempt to appease Matthew when we return. He’s disappointed to
be missing all the fun.”

  The three of them continued down the hill, stopping just above the large, green field to better view the activities below. A crowd of villagers had gathered to watch as well.

  Blackwell explained the process to a rapt Nicholas. “The men are merely honing their skills today. True tournaments, called joust a` plaisance or jousts of peace are held only at the permission of a king’s officer.”

  He pointed to the field below. “The men wear armor of hardened leather for better mobility, and they carry rebated lances.”

  At Nicholas’s frown, he explained, “They have blunted heads. The knights start at opposite ends of the lists and ride toward each other with shield and lance. They’ll lower their lance at the last moment to carry it under their right arm, pointing it diagonally across the neck of the horse toward their opponent.” As he spoke, two knights proceeded to do just as he explained.

  “By carrying the lance at an angle, the impact of the lance striking the knight is lessened. I don’t want any knights injured during practice as Matthew was.” A shake of his head spoke of his displeasure over the accident.

  “Points are awarded based on the knights’ performance. If he shatters the lance, he earns more points, as he does if he strikes the head of his opponent rather than the torso. Points are deducted for fouls or strikes against the horse or legs of the rider.”

  Nicholas sat in Alyna’s lap and watched the knights with interest. She hoped he didn’t find it too compelling. The thought of him riding toward someone who wanted to strike him with a pointed weapon that big made her ill.

  The sounds of the practice easily reached them and made it all the more impressive to watch. Lances clattered against hardened leather and helmets, horses thundered across the lists, and the men grunted from the impacts. The crowd cheered at each pass. The action kept the three of them engrossed.

  “Participating in real tournaments not only tests the knights’ skills, but can earn them a reputation and provide them with the chance to gain riches of their own from prizes,” Blackwell explained to Nicholas when there was a break in the activity.

  “A knight with skill can earn great wealth. Royce has won many tournaments and shattered more than a lance or two. He’s also collected ransoms from capturing other knights in battle.”

  “Look! Royce!” Nicholas called out.

  Alyna could see Royce mounted on his destrier, his authority and confidence evident even from their distant perch.

  Nicholas continued to point until she confirmed to him that she saw Royce as well. Her son had grown attached to the knight. That made two of them.

  As they watched, Royce adjusted a knight’s hold on his lance and then had him take a second run. This time, the knight succeeded in knocking his opponent to the ground.

  “If the men can talk him into it, Royce will ride against the winner,” her grandfather said.

  After watching a few more knights take their turns, a winner was declared. Royce mounted his horse again, refusing his helmet from his squire.

  Alyna’s heart rose to her throat as she watched him ride to the opposite end of the lists and turn, prepared to joust, easily handling the long lance and heavy shield. Compared to the knights who had gone before him, he made jousting look easy and natural.

  One with the horse, he leaned back and moved his lance down at the last moment to knock his opponent off his horse on the first pass. The men cheered their approval, as did the three watching from the hillside. He nodded to acknowledge their applause. Though impossible to tell at this distance, Alyna swore she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. Her heart thumped madly in response. If only–

  “Mama?” Nicholas asked as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m tired.”

  Telling herself she was grateful for the interruption to her wayward thoughts, she advised her grandfather, “I’ll take Nicholas back to the keep for a rest.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Blackwell offered.

  “Nay. Stay and watch the men. I’ll see you soon.” She and Nicholas walked up the hill toward the keep. The farther they walked, the slower Nicholas moved, until at last Alyna picked him up.

  By the time they reached the keep, Alyna was out of breath with a dozing Nicholas in her arms. To her displeasure, Florence stood on the steps outside the door.

  “Hauling that boy around again? He’s always underfoot, isn’t he?” With a smirk on her face, she added, “In fact, I heard he was nearly trampled the other day.”

  Alyna’s temper flared. “What you find amusing in that is beyond me, Florence. Perhaps if you had a life of your own, you wouldn’t need to find humor in other people’s misfortunes.”

  Florence’s face reddened at Alyna’s insult. “The boy is just fine, isn’t he? No need for you to be spiteful.”

  “Your comments are the spiteful ones, and I’d appreciate it if you kept them to yourself.” Alyna continued into the keep and up the stairs. Why she let Florence get to her, she didn't know.

  She entered her chamber, laid Nicholas in the middle of her bed, and covered him with his favorite blue blanket. After a kiss on his cheek, and then one more because he was so adorable, she went to check on Matthew, certain her grandfather was right about him being unhappy at missing the jousting practice. It was time the knight got up and about to start regaining his strength.

  She knocked quietly on his door in case he slept.

  “Come in,” he called out in a breathless voice.

  She opened the door to find Florence bracing Matthew as they attempted to walk across the floor. Guilt flooded her as she realized Florence was helping him with the very thing she should’ve been doing.

  Florence smiled with malice. “Ah, here’s Lady Alyna at last to check on you. As you can see, you’re not needed here.”

  The terrible and oh-so-familiar feeling of uselessness spread through her. How many times had her father told her the same thing? Her grandfather might believe that love was freely given, but that wasn’t what she’d found in life.

  She backed up, intent on leaving the chamber and Florence’s knowing smile as quickly as possible.

  “Lady Alyna! Wait!” Matthew’s plea brought her to a halt. Panic lit the knight’s eyes. Sweat beaded his brow. His shallow breathing hitched even as a grimace of pain crossed his features, making her realize all was not well.

  She was letting her insecurity get the best of her. Worse, she was letting Florence’s barbs reach their target. She stepped forward. “Perhaps that’s enough movement for today. You don’t want to reopen your wound.”

  The look of relief on Matthew’s face gave her confidence to meet Florence’s narrowed gaze.

  “Nonsense,” Florence argued. “The poor boy’s been left to rot in this bed for days now. ’Tis time he’s up and walking.”

  Alyna moved to Matthew’s side and gently lifted his arm around her shoulders to help support him. “For a few moments each time. Standing by the bed is enough for now.”

  With grim determination, Florence pulled Matthew away from Alyna toward the window, making him cry out in pain. “Oh, please. He can at least walk to the window.”

  Despite Alyna’s support, Matthew slid to the floor, groaning. “Matthew!”

  “Give me a moment, if you please,” he bid her as he sat on the floor, eyes closed. “I fear I’m weaker than I thought.”

  Florence placed her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who complained you were missing the joust,” she reminded him.

  The young man glared at Florence. “Aye, but I well know the reason why. I’m still as weak as a babe.”

  Florence huffed. “He told me not a moment before you arrived how tired he was of being left here alone all the time.”

  Matthew’s eyes rounded to the size of small apples. “Nay, what I said was that–”

  Florence interrupted him to address Alyna. “If he says he feels well enough to step outside for the afternoon, you are not in any position to deny him.”

  Alyna paused to
consider the intent expression on her face. What could she possibly gain by taking Matthew’s side so vehemently? “Your sudden interest in Matthew has come rather late. Where were you when we needed someone to sit with him day and night?”

  Florence lifted her chin, her narrow lips tightening. “I thought you had the situation in hand. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  Pushing aside her self-doubt, she countered, “Matthew’s recovery is progressing on course. He’ll return to training soon and all this will be but a distant memory.” She looked down at the knight to reassure him she spoke the truth.

  “Not unless he’s forced to get out of that bed.”

  “I have to wonder what you’re about, Florence. Is your purpose at this keep to cause trouble for all of its occupants?”

  Florence’s eyes widened in surprise, making Alyna wonder if she’d stumbled upon the woman’s goal.

  Alyna raised a brow. “How is Hilde’s hand? I heard she injured it. I have a balm that might aid her, but haven’t been able to locate her.”

  Florence appeared taken aback at Alyna’s words. If Alyna hadn’t been watching closely, she’d have missed it as Florence smoothed her expression over with a look of puzzlement. “I am not aware of any injury. You must be mistaken.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She is seeing to some things for me.”

  Alyna knew she’d gain more information from Mary and Beatrice than Florence. She turned back to Matthew. “Let us get you back in bed so you can rest. You can try again soon.”

  “I can see my presence here is no longer needed.” Florence didn’t bother to offer assistance. “Good day to you, Matthew.” She left the chamber with her head held high.

  “Good riddance, don’t you think, Matthew?” She shared a smile with the young man as she helped him up.

  “I thought for a few moments that she was trying to kill me as she dragged me across the room,” Matthew admitted. “Thank goodness you arrived.”

  “She is rather scary. I just wish I knew what she’s up to.” Alyna shrugged as she checked the linen bandage. “It doesn’t seem to have reopened. Rest now. Perhaps you can have some fresh air on the morrow if you’re feeling up to it.”

 

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