by Shea,Lisa
Sarah and Rachel settled themselves at a corner table, and an attentive waitress made sure they were supplied with ales and meat pies.
Sarah found that the musical talents on display for the afternoon were quite good, and looked forward to the featured act for the evening. It seemed no time at all before the men were introduced to the audience.
The lead musician was a tall, sturdy man with blond hair and a quick smile. His voice was rich and resonant as he called out a greeting to the boisterous crowd.
“Hello, Melksham! My name is Michael, and I want to welcome you all this evening. My friends and I have travelled extensively throughout France and Venice, and we have an eclectic selection of songs to offer. Sit back and enjoy!”
The band immediately burst into a merry dance tune, and the floor was soon full of spinning and whirling couples. As the songs flowed one into another, Sarah marveled at the wide variety of tunes the band had to offer. She enjoyed herself immensely, tapping her toes to the music.
Rachel appeared equally entranced, her eyes fixed on Michael as he moved to and fro across the stage. Soon it became harder to see the group as the crowd swelled in size with each passing tune.
Night was falling in earnest when the group finished its first set and called for a short break. Waitresses moved amongst the guests, lighting candles and stoking up the main fire. To Sarah’s surprise, she saw a blond-haired figure moving toward them. Michael made his way easily through the throngs over to their table.
“Greetings, young ladies,” he called out jovially, sweeping into a bow. “As you know, I am Michael, and I am at your pleasure. How are you enjoying my music?”
“You are wonderful!” called out Rachel, her eyes shining. “That tune you played from Castile, it was so lively and full of spirit! Have you really been there?”
He nodded, his wide mouth crinkling into a warm smile. “Yes, indeed. The landscapes are stunning, and the wine is rich and delicious.” His eyes turned to meet with Sarah’s. “And you, miss, how do you find our offerings?”
Sarah smiled, leaning forward to be heard above the room’s escalating volume. “I am very impressed with your musicianship,” she offered. “Many of those songs have difficult arrangements, and your group moves through them as if they are no trouble at all.”
His blue eyes lit up with the praise. “We have been together for many years, and we are each accomplished in our own area,” he boasted with pride. “It is why we can play songs from so many different cultures, providing the feel of each one accurately.” He glanced back up at the stage. “Maybe you would like to come meet the other members, where we can talk at greater length?”
Rachel stood immediately. “I would love that!” she eagerly enthused.
“You two go ahead, I will stay and guard the table,” agreed Sarah with a smile. “Otherwise we will have nowhere to sit when we return.”
Rachel looped an arm through Michael’s and turned him to head back toward the stage area. Sarah looked after them, watching as her sister was introduced to the other members of the band.
Her mind drifted. It would appear Michael was in his mid-twenties and that he was single. Few would think twice to ask him why he was not yet married. He was doing what he wanted, traveling to fascinating locations, and enjoying what life had to offer.
She took another pull on her drink. It seemed unfair that women were often expected to marry as soon as they were legally able, as if that was the only thing they were good for. Their purpose in life was to start making babies as soon as they possibly could. In fact, in many cases the couple would become intimate first, to see if they formed a fertile match, and only marry once that fecundity had been proven. By taking events in that order, society ensured the most child-filled families for each village. This was essential to the community’s overall survival.
Sarah’s brows creased. What of the women who, for whatever reason, were unable to bear a healthy child? The ones who either failed the hand-fasting pregnancy attempts or, if married as a virgin, were discarded once they were found to be incapable of producing children? Were they therefore failures in life?
She sighed. That seemed extremely harsh, given that the situation was completely out of their control. It made as little sense to count someone as a failure because they were born with freckles or with red hair.
Her eyes dropped to her hands. The old ways seemed wise to her. Courting couples would test their fertility in private. If a pairing did not work, the couple could quietly separate again without much public exposure. But now that the church was insisting more and more strenuously that women be virgins at the altar, it meant that the females’ fertility came under far closer scrutiny. Her inability to create children with that one man became a topic of discussion, especially if he chose to divorce her after a period of failure, as was fairly common. It made her situation that much more challenging.
And somehow it was always the woman who was blamed.
If she could turn back time … go back to the days of her parents’ youth … a time when women were considered wise, insightful, strong …
Her heart leapt as Rachel plunked down into the seat next to her, a wry grin on her face. The musicians launched into an energetic folk song, filling the room with its rich sound.
Sarah leant over. “So, how was it, meeting the band?” she asked congenially.
Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Michael kept asking me about you,” she admitted with a chuckle.
Sarah smiled in return. “I am sure you were able to distract him from that line of thought before too long,” she teased her sister.
Rachel’s eyes twinkled. “He asked me to come back and hear them next week, when they are playing for a summer festival here. So I certainly hope so!”
Sarah gave her a toast, her heart warming with the joy in her sibling’s face. Rachel had a zest for life that she envied. She wished with all her heart that Rachel would find a safe path to a long term happiness.
Chapter 11
Sunday brought dark, roiling clouds and a furious storm. Sarah and her family raced, laughing, through the pelting rain to reach the sanctity of the chapel. The sermon was barely audible over the crashes of thunder and the steady thrumming of rain on the roof overhead.
Sarah did not mind the noise. She found that she spent much of the morning’s sermon musing over what Christianity laid out as the path for women. She had been raised devoutly by her parents, and her father had taken part in the Crusades. She felt strongly that faith and duty were important parts of a well-lived life.
And yet … just what had Jesus said about the role of women? He had not treated them as mindless children. He had forgiven the adulteress, knowing she could reach greater heights. He had kept Mary Magdalene by his side during his travels, relying on her wisdom and experience. When he arose from the dead, it was Mary he first went to.
When all others had abandoned him at the cross, it was his mother and Mary who stood beside him, willing to risk antagonizing the Romans to be true to him.
The Bible repeatedly stated that women were caring, were wise, and were morally judged for their actions. When Lot’s wife had looked back, she had not been treated as a child. She had been held responsible for her decision, as a mature adult, and the consequences were significant.
Why did it seem that many priests were veering toward a platform instructing women to be obedient, docile, and mute?
The image of Lot’s wife stayed with her, and Sarah recited that passage that afternoon, passing the candle along when she was done. She barely heard the words the others chose, instead remaining lost in thought.
A voice sounded in her ear. “Anyone in there?” came the low, teasing query.
Sarah looked up from her spot on the window bench in surprise. The room had emptied, and only Reynald remained, smiling down at her.
Sarah ran a hand through her hair, shaking the cobwebs from her thoughts. “Sorry about that, I was just … ruminating,” she admitted quietly.
&
nbsp; “Oh?” asked Reynald with a noncommittal look, his amber eyes curious but gentle.
Sarah turned to look out the window. The storm had broken and the afternoon sun was baking down, sending waves of heat into the room. “Apparently I must be a failure,” she mused, half to herself.
Reynald’s reaction was immediate. “Who said such a thing?” he asked in shock. “Who could believe such a thing?”
Sarah shook her head. “Nobody has said it. Still, it seems clear. A woman is supposed to marry as soon as she is able to safely bear children. I am, what, six years overdue? My sole task in life is to create as many children as I can in wedlock for my husband.”
Reynald sat down at her side, looking into her eyes in confusion. “First, that is not true. Women choose many other paths; they are nuns, they are healers. They are midwives, like you are. And second …” he paused for a moment, then continued quietly. “Do you truly not want to marry, not want to raise a family?”
Sarah sighed, dropping her eyes. “I do want that,” she admitted softly. “It is what I dream of, someday, to have a husband who loves me; to have a safe home where my children play and grow.”
Reynald’s voice came in an unguarded hush. “I am surprised you have not already been swept away by some lucky man.”
Sarah blushed crimson. The words tumbled out before she thought. “There was someone, once, who I was interested in. His name was Dirk, but -”
She forced herself to turn away, to gaze out the window. “Things happen,” she finished half-heartedly. “That was many years ago.”
Sarah’s heart swirled in confusion. She wanted to tell Reynald everything that had happened, to finally unburden her soul of this pain it had held for so many years. Glancing back at him, her will to stay silent almost failed her. His eyes seemed full of tender understanding, his face reflecting patience. He would never press her for more than she was willing to give. She knew he had seen far worse, survived far worse, in the years he had spent on the roads to Jerusalem. It would be such a relief to have someone to confide in.
Still, could she really trust him? Could she even be sure she understood him, after such a short period of time? She barely knew anything about the man at her side. Why had he gone off and become a Templar, living so far from home? Why had he left his sister?
Another thought flashed through her mind, and she stiffened, turning her gaze once more to the fields beyond the window. What of her own sister, flirtatiously moving against him at every opportunity? Was he really so immune to her charms?
Many long minutes passed in silence which neither sought to break. Finally Sarah shook herself and rose to her feet. If she remained here for too long, she might say something she would later regret.
Reynald instantly stood at her movement.
Sarah glanced at him with a shaded look, muting her feelings under his attentive gaze. She nodded her thanks to him, then turned to go.
To her surprise, Reynald took her gently by the hand.
She paused, keeping her eyes lowered to hide the sudden beating of her heart.
“I am here,” offered Reynald softly, his voice hoarse. “Please find me at any time if you wish to talk. I promise I will listen without judging.”
For some reason, Sarah’s mind skipped back a few days. “Is that not all my sister was hoping for?” she mused to herself, lost in thought. “She wanted someone to listen to her without judging, simply supporting. I was hesitant to offer that to her.”
Before Reynald could respond, she moved past him, back up toward her room. She knew she had many chores, many tasks waiting to be done. She could not bring herself to face any of them. She stood at her window for a long time, but even the bright sunlight seemed too much for her. She pulled the curtains closed fully, immersing the room in darkness. She tucked herself onto the chair in the corner, bringing her feet up, losing herself in thought.
The door flung open suddenly, and Sarah blinked in the light that streamed in from the hallway. Her sister danced into the room, blonde hair bouncing with Rachel’s movements.
Rachel called out in laughter, “are you in here?” Her eyes roamed the room until, adjusting to the dimness, she spotted Sarah curled up in the corner. “Oh, there you are! What is this, your cave?” Her mouth curved into a teasing grin. “I have always wanted a cave of my own.”
Sarah’s mind was far distant, lost in her musings. “I just want to be alone for a while.”
“Sure thing, we will enjoy dinner without you!” chuckled Rachel with merriment. She turned and headed out again without another word, closing the door solidly behind her.
Sarah turned her eyes back to the heavy curtains, her mind far away.
* * *
Sarah’s mother seemed in exceptionally good spirits the next morning, engaging in lively conversation with her husband and Rachel in turn. Sarah found her mood lifting as breakfast was served, and smiled when the talk came around to her.
Her mother’s brow raised in friendly curiosity. “So, where are you off to today, or can you tell? I am not sure that much can hold up to the musician’s evening, if Rachel is to be believed!”
Sarah chuckled, being drawn easily into the insouciant, carefree atmosphere. “The players were quite good. However, I have something more sedate planned for today. It is the two week check-up for a patient of mine.”
Reynald’s eyes brightened. “The one I assisted with? I would like to come along, if that would be all right.”
Sarah looked over in pleased surprise. “Certainly, if you wish it. I am sure they would be delighted to talk with you.”
Sarah took the ride at a slower pace this time around, moving at a gentle canter through the woods. She loved this path, with its mossy leaps and dappled turns. As before, Reynald stayed with her for every twist, and she admired his horsemanship as he took a leap over a small stream with ease. His personality, his skills fit as snugly against her needs as two spoons nestled together in the drawer.
Longing filled her soul, and she gave a deep sigh, focusing on the next log in her path. She turned her mind away from Reynald with firm resolve. He was a temporary visitor in her home; nothing more. Once he had met with his sister in person, and tracked down the rogue Templars, he would be gone back to Jerusalem. As far as she knew, Templars made their vows for life.
It was a short period of time before they had pulled up outside the quiet cottage. Cecily and Milo were waiting for them outside, sitting on a low bench by the front door. Cecily held the infant wrapped in a blanket in her arms, gazing fondly at the small face.
Milo stood with a smile as the two reined in and dismounted. “Sarah! Reynald! It is wonderful to see you! Come, see how much young Chilton has grown!”
Sarah sat beside Cecily with a smile, accepting the offer when Cecily handed her the small infant. She looked over the child from head to toe, and Cecily blushed in pleasure when Sarah pronounced him healthy and growing well.
Sarah nuzzled the young child with a smile, looking at his tiny fingers and toes with joy. It was amazing to think that new life was sparked so easily, although the ensuing nine months were certainly less of an enjoyable task. Still, this tender fragility could be nursed, with care, to create a full sized adult. It truly seemed a miracle.
She looked up at Reynald, and was caught by the emotion on his face. He was gazing down at her, warmth brightening his cheeks. She wondered if he was thinking of his sister, who he would be seeing in a short period of time.
Reynald blinked at her gaze, and turned quickly to Milo. “How have things been going for you?” he asked, looking around at the cottage. “It seems that you are doing quite well.”
Milo smiled with pleasure. “The weather has been perfect, and our crops are growing nicely,” he agreed. “Cecily has been able to rest, relax, and spend time with our son. It has been very easy for me to keep things running along smoothly these past two weeks to give her time to heal.”
He glanced to the north. “I count my blessings, given wha
t happened to the Johnsons.”
Reynald’s brow creased. “Who are they?”
Milo smiled. “I forget you are not from around here. The Johnsons live about two miles northwards. Sarah here helped them with both of their children. It was because of Bethany’s recommendations that Cecily asked Sarah to help her with her own pregnancy. Sarah was an angel for both women.”
Reynald looked over again at Sarah, where she sat cradling the young child. For a moment Sarah thought she saw longing in his eyes, but in a heartbeat it was gone, replaced with firm discipline.
When Reynald spoke again, his voice was rough. “What has happened to the Johnsons?”
Milo sighed. “We had that lightning storm yesterday, you might remember. Their house is on a hill, and the trees around them took several strikes. The blasts brought down sections of fence. Now the deer have gotten into their crops, and the Johnsons are having quite the time sorting their life back to normal.”
“That is a shame,” mused Reynald, considering.
Milo nodded. “I would go over to help, but with Cecily in the state she is in, I feel I should be here, just in case. She is not quite ready to travel yet.”
Reynald patted him on the back. “You take care of your family,” he agreed. “There are plenty of others who have the ability to help. I am sure everything will be settled out for the Johnsons soon enough.”
The afternoon flew by in quiet discussion and admiration of the new life. Sarah found that she felt almost reborn as she took the path home, sailing through the woods, Reynald keeping close alongside her.
The two horses rode side by side into the stables easily, comfortable with each other’s presence, and with Lou’s help they were quickly stabled and brushed. Sarah and Reynald were just walking to the main doors when Rachel rode in, her stallion glistening with sweat.
