Marked By Honor

by Alexa Aston

  “You have no need to apologize to me.” She gazed around the great hall. “This is the grandest room I’ve ever seen. The manor house I grew up in was tidy but small. I can’t wait to see the rest of the keep and all of the castle grounds.” She looked back at him and felt the heat rise on her cheeks at his intent stare.

  “Promise me, my lady, that you won’t roam about without me or a designated escort. Inside the keep is not a problem. But I need to understand the lay of the land before allowing you to move freely about the grounds.”

  “I understand.” Beatrice finished her meal and continued to study those in the room, catching curious glances cast in their direction.

  Raynor rose after he finished eating and addressed the crowd. “Good morning,” he called out.

  The people returned a mumbled greeting. Beatrice noted a wariness in the eyes of many as they turned their full attention upon him.

  “I have been gone from Ashcroft often, but I plan to stay and see to its immediate needs in the next couple of months. My brother, Lord Peter, has agreed that I may make any changes needed in order to improve things.” He paused. “The first of these adjustments will be for everyone from the captain of the guard to the youngest serving wench to attend daily mass. The Le Roux family keeps Christ in their hearts and at the center of their work. The same should be true for everyone on the estate.”

  He looked to the trestle tables that seated the group of soldiers. “I will be in the training yard in half an hour’s time. I want to see you at practice so I may judge where we stand regarding our defenses. Sir Ralph, you and I will discuss the guard duty schedule, among other matters.”

  Beatrice saw a bearded man in his forties scowl at the words and assumed that he was Sir Ralph. She would not want to be in his shoes. If this knight had become derelict in his duties, she knew Raynor would tell him in no uncertain terms.

  “The soldiers are dismissed,” Raynor said.

  The benches scraped the floor as the men stood and made their way out of the great hall.

  When the last soldier had left, Raynor continued. “I would like to introduce to you Lady Beatrice Bordel.” He offered her his hand and she took it. She stood, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach as the attention of everyone in the room focused on her.

  “Lady Beatrice is visiting at Ashcroft before I escort her to her new home at Brookhaven. She has full authority inside the keep. It is up to her to decide what tasks need to be assigned and completed. I ask that you give her due respect and your cooperation.” His nose crinkled. “I hope she’ll start here in the great hall.”

  Raynor’s head turned slowly, taking in the room. “I’m embarrassed to find rotted food and dog shit flung everywhere,” he told the group. “You dishonor my mother’s memory and shame Ashcroft by the way you have let the great hall fall into ruin. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated in the future.”

  Beatrice sank to her seat and watched the people shift uncomfortably. Many lowered their gazes to the ground in shame.

  His voice rang out. “I’ve discovered that the harvest has barely begun. You know we only have about two months to complete it, along with the tying and winnowing. The milling should follow shortly afterward. Failure to do so could lead to starvation. Your own children might suffer if you don’t put your best effort into this endeavor.”

  Raynor looked out over the crowd. “Ashcroft has always been a place of plenty. A place where the people worked together for the good of all. Every man, woman, and child took pride in the contributions they made. I expect nothing less from this day forth. We will work together in a spirit of cooperation. I will personally discipline anyone who shirks his duties. Punishment will be swift. Is that understood by all?”

  A low murmur was the response. Beatrice observed many glances as workers looked sheepishly at one another.

  “I wish for us to, once again, become as a family, bound by our duty, respect, and love for one another, as we were in the past. I’ll provide you with my protection. You, in turn, will give your service. I hope you can forgive the recent lack of leadership and set aside any harsh feelings.”

  Raynor scanned the crowd. “Today we make a new start. For one another. For Ashcroft!”

  Chapter Nine

  Disappointment flooded Raynor as silence filled the great hall. He had already failed before he’d even begun to remedy all that was wrong at Ashcroft.

  Then a cheer went up and clapping workers leapt to their feet. The noise resounded throughout the room. Relief took hold of him. He raised his hands and the applause died down.

  “You’ve cheered my words, but remember—I will ask for you to push yourselves to the limit. Winter will not wait. We must complete the harvest and make ready for the cold weather that will come.”

  He summoned Gobert. “Choose the five best serfs that we have. I’ll meet with them now in your record room. We’ll devise an immediate plan of action for today and the week to come. I also want to ride the estate afterward and see what’s in need of repair, from fences to cottages. And you and I must go over the books in the near future.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Gobert hurried off, already gesturing for others to join him.

  Raynor looked down at Beatrice. “You have your work cut out for you, my lady. Start wherever you desire. Our conversation last night led me to believe you know exactly what to do.”

  “Trust me, my lord. I can handle all domestic matters inside the keep. I’ll report to you at the end of each day on our progress.”

  She smiled, and for the first time he noticed the dimple in her cheek. He stopped himself from reaching out to touch it.

  “Then I will leave you to your tasks,” he said gruffly, tamping down the lust that burned within him. He left for the small room where the Ashcroft records were stored.

  With every step, his heart pounded as if he’d been fighting for hours. Beatrice Bordel had bewitched him. Now that he’d had his first clear look at her as they returned from mass this morning, her unique beauty stunned him. Her rich, brown hair called out for his hand to stroke it. Matched in color, her warm brown eyes, rimmed in amber, danced with life. She was small in stature, yet, above all, it was her smile that had captured his heart. It reached her eyes, crinkling them in merriment.

  Raynor stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t meet with workers while in idle reverie over a woman, one which, he reminded himself, was promised to another. She was a guest in his home, one who had promised to help him put Ashcroft back together before he united her with her betrothed. She would add a woman’s touch in areas of which he knew nothing about. Lady Beatrice would repay him for coming to her aid by helping him restore his family’s home to its former glory.

  Even if her mouth called out to him to be kissed.

  He drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly, trying to gain control of the wild notions running through his head. Raynor continued to the record room. He would decide how to best approach the harvest, then go to the training yard. That’s where he felt most comfortable.

  Minutes later, Gobert arrived with five men in tow. Raynor remembered two of them and became quickly acquainted with the other three.

  “This wheat harvest is of utmost importance,” he stressed. “Beginning now, we’ll put in long hours each day until it’s completed. Every able-bodied man, woman, and child needs to be present in the fields. If we work together, no one will starve at Ashcroft. You have my word.” Raynor thought a moment. “How many scythes are there?”

  John, a stout man with black hair and a thick beard, spoke up. “We have a good thirty in working condition, my lord. More, once the others are sharpened. That should happen frequently for the blades to be most effective.”

  “Good. Set one man to the sharpening. Rotate the tools at least once a day. The midday meal will be taken in the fields.” He looked to Gobert. “Speak with Cook once we are finished here so that food and drink will be readied and taken to the workers. Have her shift the main meal to the end of
the day. The same goes for the soldiers in the training yard.”

  The men nodded in agreement. Raynor sensed they were relieved that someone had taken charge and provided them with direction.

  “You five are to have authority over the other workers. John, you shall be head of all. Divide the serfs into teams. After a week’s time, we’ll reorganize and allow only the men to continue with the harvest. The women and older children can begin to tie what has been collected into sheaves in order for the wheat to dry.”

  “My lord, I would suggest that once enough of the tying has been completed, we have men drive the carts that will transport the sheaves to be stored,” John added. “Many times, the carts are filled to the brim and unsteady. They can tip over. ’Twould be too dangerous for womenfolk.”

  “I’ll leave details such as these in your capable hands, John,” Raynor said. “The same can be said for the winnowing. You may choose to start that process once enough sheaves have been transported or you may decide to wait till all of it has been gathered and brought in before the workers winnow the bundles.”

  He studied the men in front of him. “All of you are my eyes and ears in the field. Take care of any small problems. Bring anything of serious concern to my immediate attention. And once the wheat has been collected, tied, and winnowed, I shall hold a harvest home celebration as we did in my younger days.”

  Huge smiles broke out on the men’s faces.

  “May we share that news, my lord?” John asked eagerly.

  “Aye. It will give everyone something to look forward to. Stay here and organize your teams before you head to the fields. John, you and I will meet in this room every night after we dine so that I may hear of the progress made each day.”

  “Aye, my lord.” John looked at the other men. “We’ll set the teams now and decide when to have each stage of the harvest completed.”

  “Good luck to you,” Raynor told them. “I must check on my soldiers.” He exited the room, Gobert fast on his heels.

  “My lord? A word?” the steward asked.

  Raynor paused, though he itched to be outside. “Aye?”

  “I know it’s not my place—”

  “Don’t stand on ceremony, Gobert. Tell me what concerns you.”

  The steward frowned. “It’s Sir Ralph. He has grown fat and lazy. Discipline has vanished in the training yard. The men simply go through the motions. I fear Ashcroft would not survive an attack with the soldiers that we have on hand.”

  “I thought as much.” He placed a hand on Gobert’s shoulder. “Training soldiers is one thing I know about. Don’t worry, my friend. Give me a few days. I promise that Ashcroft will, once again, have men worthy of protecting it.”

  Raynor was glad that the steward had written to him. Though much needed to be done at his family home, Raynor believed the heart of it lay with his men.

  His men . . .

  In truth, they were not his men. They were soldiers in service to the Baron of Ashcroft. But for now? He would claim them as his own. By the time he finished, he would be assured of Ashcroft’s well-being.

  When he arrived at the training yard, Raynor was stunned that only a lone knight stood in the yard. He’d told the men when he would be here and assumed they would be ready for training with their weapons in hand. Instead, he found the one soldier present, swinging his sword. The man’s fluid moves and natural grace marked him as a talented warrior.

  “Greetings!” he called out as he approached. “What is your name?”

  “I am Sir Lucas Moore, my lord.”

  “You are new to Ashcroft.”

  “Aye, my lord. I’ve been here close to four months.”

  “And you are the only soldier who cares to train?”

  The young knight started to speak and thought better of it. His gaze fell to the ground.

  “Nay, speak up,” Raynor prompted. “If I am to improve the circumstances, I must be well informed.”

  Lucas met his eyes and Raynor saw anger spark in them. “Sir Ralph has been lax in every way imaginable, my lord. The men train sporadically and with little enthusiasm. Almost half have left Ashcroft in search of a strong leader who is serious about his responsibilities.”

  Raynor studied the young man before him. “I appreciate your honesty, Sir Lucas. Where did you foster?”

  “Outside Winchester with Lord Barrington.”

  “I have heard he is a hard man,” Raynor said, testing the young soldier before him.

  “Hard—but always fair,” Lucas shared. “He never asks a man to do something that he would not do himself. I spent long hours in training, but if I had it to do over again? I would choose Lord Barrington with ease. He made me the man I am today, in every way.”

  “Yet you did not stay in service with him,” Raynor pointed out.

  “Nay. His garrison had no openings. The captain of the guard told me to seek experience as a mercenary and to send word to him where I would be. He promised to let me know if Lord Barrington had need of me in the future.”

  “I hope you’ll choose to dedicate yourself to Ashcroft permanently, Sir Lucas. We have need of men like you.”

  The young knight studied him a moment. “I will stay, my lord, but only if you make the drastic changes needed.”

  Raynor gave Lucas a grim smile. “I can promise you that will come to pass. Immediately.”

  Both men turned as a group of soldiers sauntered into the training yard. Sir Ralph brought up the rear. Raynor recognized a few, but many familiar faces were missing. He assumed those were the ones who had left as things declined.

  He called out, “Sir Ralph, have the men pair off. I’d like to see how they are at swordplay first.”

  “You should have no worries, my lord,” the captain assured him. “These men are skilled fighters. I can handle the training yard. I’m sure you’ll be needed to supervise the harvest. And your brother,” he added.

  Though his last words were uttered softly, they carried in the still of the morning.

  Raynor strode toward him and slammed his fist into the man’s nose. Sir Ralph stumbled and fell to the ground.

  As Raynor loomed over him, he said, “You are dismissed from service, Sir Ralph. Pack your things and leave Ashcroft at once.”

  Turning, he looked across the soldiers gathered in the yard. “Your captain has grown careless. Slovenly ways and disrespect will never be tolerated at Ashcroft. From this moment forth, if you are to stay here, you will act as honorable men. You’ll accept that your role is to protect Ashcroft and its people at all costs. You will train hard on a daily basis and present a positive attitude at all times. Most of all, you will respect the baron and pledge your loyalty to the Le Roux family. Or, you may depart with this weak, sniveling excuse of a knight.”

  Raynor glared at the crowd. Two fell out of the ranks and followed Sir Ralph, who’d come to his feet and stormed off. He watched them exit the training yard.

  “Split into pairs,” he ordered. “We’ll train first with swords. Then axes and maces.”

  He pushed them for hours, often jumping in as a sparring partner. He judged how skilled each soldier was with various weapons. By the end of the session, sweat poured from everyone, including himself. His own limbs trembled from such intense use.

  Another two men had quit during the exercises. They informed him they would leave immediately. Raynor was happy to see them go. It was easier to remove less desirable soldiers now and forge ahead with a smaller, determined crew.

  Calling a halt to the activity, he pushed a forearm across his forehead to mop the sweat from his brow. He called for the men to assemble around him.

  “You have done well today. I see raw talent in many of you and natural skill in many more. I’ll also look for loyalty and leadership.”

  He gazed at the men as they listened to his words, pleased to see eagerness and determination on their faces.

  “I hope you will find it an honor to serve at Ashcroft.” Raynor pointed at Lucas. “Sir Lucas.
Come forth.”

  The young knight approached.

  Raynor placed a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “This man—though young in years—has the heart of a lion and fighting skills that many would envy. He is your new captain of the guard.”

  The knight’s eyes widened at the announcement, then a huge grin spread across his face. The remaining warriors gave him a rousing cheer. Many slapped him on the back, congratulating him on a job well done. Raynor was happy to see his new captain was well liked.

  “Continue with the men, Sir Lucas. I have other tasks to see to.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Raynor eyed the men and said, “Keep up your hard work and you’ll earn an extra measure of ale and meat tonight.”

  Another cheer went up.

  Lucas turned to Raynor. “Thank you for your confidence in me, my lord. Not many would choose to put someone as young as I am as captain of their guard.” He chuckled. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” Raynor declared. “This change will be one of my best decisions, mark my words.”

  Chapter Ten

  Beatrice’s refused to be overwhelmed with all that needed to be done inside the keep. She went to her chamber and removed the beautiful yellow cotehardie she had dressed in this morning since she didn’t want it stained. For cleaning, a smock and kirtle would suffice. She met with Cook first, who provided her with an apron and showed her the location of the larder. Cook already knew what to do to prepare for the lean winter months. The stout woman seemed to be one of the few at Ashcroft who had kept about her business without the need of anyone hovering over her.

  The grain stores were severely depleted. Once the wheat harvest came in and the milling occurred, though, Ashcroft would be set for bread for the next year. Salting and smoking meats would also occur during the autumn season, and hunting would pick up in earnest after the harvest had been collected. She wondered if she would still be present when that took place.