Trusting in Faith - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 5)

by Shea,Lisa

  She made her way out alone. It was a ride she had done for countless years, but for some reason it felt odd to be traveling without a partner. She pushed the thought from her mind.

  Sarah valiantly engrossed herself in buying supplies, visiting vendors to place new orders, and catching up on the news of the world. She sought out every familiar face to greet and spend time with.

  Yet, every moment seemed to remind her of Reynald. Every new bit of information seemed one she wanted to get Reynald’s opinion on.

  Sarah knew it was petty of her to want to keep his attentions all to herself. She had no claim on him, and he was certainly free to do as he chose with his time. Even so, every hour she was away from him she wondered what he was doing and thought about when she could see him next.

  The ride home was long and lonely. When the pair was not home for dinner, Sarah retreated to her room, embroidering for hours by the window to distract herself.

  She found her luck had not changed the next morning when she descended the stairs. Reynald was gone, apparently tracking down more news of his Templar quarry. Rachel tripped off merrily to visit with friends, and the house settled into a restive quiet.

  Sarah normally relished these peaceful times, but today she felt restless. She fought to engage her interest with caring for her garden, practicing her sword-work, working on mixtures and poultices.

  No matter what activity she attempted to focus on, she found herself wondering what Reynald would think. Would he praise how she blocked to the lower left, or would he suggest a better angle?

  Rachel returned shortly before dinner, and Sarah strove to immerse herself in the daily family discussion around the table. The meal was delicious and Sally kept the glasses topped off, but Sarah felt the hole. Despite her best efforts, she found herself glancing occasionally at the empty seat.

  By the time the meal was over, Sarah knew she had to do something to get her mind off of him. She grabbed Rachel’s hand and brought her over to the thick rug in front of the fireplace, currently cold and dormant. The two sprawled in front of an onyx-and-white-marble chessboard, placing their pieces with care, sipping at mugs of mead while they plotted their moves.

  * * *

  Reynald handed his horse off to Lou with a smile, shaking the dust off his outfit before turning to head into the keep. It had been another long day, but he felt that he was making progress. Soon he would narrow down the exact location of the three Templars he was seeking. Once he had been able to meet with his sister, he would move after them in earnest, to convince them to return to Jerusalem with him. If they would not go, the local authorities could certainly gather the force necessary to insist that they join him.

  He found his stomach rumbling as he moved into the main hall. It was easy enough to ignore the demands of the body when he was out engaged in a task, but now that he was home again, it was easy enough to be again reminded of that hunger.

  He chuckled quietly. ‘Home’ indeed. He had only been here three weeks, and already he had found himself settling into the routine. After so many years in a foreign land, it was decidedly easy to be comfortable.

  His eyes scanned the room. Most of the household had already finished eating, and Sally was clearing away the plates and trenchers. Christopher and Mathilde were not to be seen; perhaps they were in another room talking. But there, on the floor …

  His gaze became caught as he looked down at the two sisters. They were so alike, and yet so different. Rachel was eagerly contemplating her next move, knight in hand, threatening to move it to first one location, then to another, watching to see her sister’s reaction. She laughed gleefully at some comment, leaning forward to add a retort. Her blonde hair glistened in the candlelight.

  Reynald’s eyes moved across to the older sister. Sarah’s face was quieter than her sister’s, her tawny hair a more muted version of the blonde brilliance. She lay quietly by the board, watching her sister’s moves without reacting. Her hand rested gently by her queen, almost in a protective manner.

  Reynald stepped back into the shadows, taking a seat in the corner of the room. Sally brought him over a mug of ale and a serving of food. He sat there quietly, watching the pair, lost in thought.

  * * *

  Sarah could feel Reynald’s eyes on her, and she blushed, willing herself not to look up. She had been listening intently for his footsteps, and her heart sang when he had walked into the room. Now that he was here, it was all she could do to keep her focus on the board before her.

  Rachel seemed to have no such qualms. She looked up at Reynald with a mischievous smile, putting down her piece for a moment. “So, Sir Knight, do you play chess?” she asked with a playful air.

  Reynald nodded. “Yes, certainly,” he agreed with a smile. “It is a great game of tactics.”

  “This set was given to me when I was nine,” continued Rachel, indicating the elegant board before her. “A family friend gave it to me for my birthday. Then Sarah stole it from me.”

  Sarah ran her eyes over her remaining pawns. “I traded it to you for a trio of French dolls,” she corrected Sarah with a gentle nod. “I agree, though, it was wrong of me to push you into giving up your present.” She gave a wry smile. “My only defense is that I thought you were too young for chess on your own. I thought that I could figure out the rules and then help teach you. We have certainly played many games together since then.” She finally decided on a pawn to the left, carefully sliding it forward one row, leaving her finger on the piece for a long moment before releasing it.

  “Yes, but you could have taught me with my own set!” argued Rachel, grabbing her castle and attacking the pawn immediately, laughing with glee as she swept the piece off the board.

  “You are quite right,” agreed Sarah tapping her finger against her lip in thought. “Once again, I am sorry for trading for your game when I was eleven. I have offered the set back to you several times; the offer still stands.” She eyed her rook for a long moment before carefully sliding it two spaces.

  “Hah, you would like that, to just pretend it never happened,” shot back Rachel with amusement. She grabbed up one of her knights, sending it into the fray. “Look, Reynald, that is you, racing in to protect me!” she called out with a laugh.

  Sarah’s mouth quirked into a smile. She surveyed the board for a moment, then moved her queen forward, taking the knight. “I am afraid his chivalrous gesture was short lived,” she chuckled. “Queen takes knight.”

  Rachel shrugged, sitting back and taking a long drink of her mead. “That is fine, I have another knight,” she pointed out cheerfully.

  Christopher walked into the room, glancing over his daughters’ game for a moment and chuckling to himself as he saw the layout on the board. Then he shook his head, turning to Reynald. “If you have a moment, I would like to speak with you,” he asked in a low tone.

  Reynald drew to his feet. “I am at your pleasure,” he responded. He turned to follow the older man from the room.

  Sarah watched them go for a long moment, then turned back to finish off the game.

  Chapter 14

  Sarah was riding back from Melissa’s house the next afternoon when a steady thrum of hoof beats jogged her from her thoughts. In a moment Reynald had ridden up to pull alongside her, his eyes scanning the woods in a sweep before bringing his gaze to hold hers.

  “You really should have a guard with you,” he advised with concern. “I realize this is a well-traveled road, but it cannot hurt to be cautious.”

  Sarah was too content to argue. “You are here with me now, so I am all set,” she pointed out, her mood serene.

  Reynald settled back into his saddle, drawing closer to her side. “I am beginning to sense a pattern in your rides,” he commented as they moved along through the sunlight. “So you check in on your patients every two weeks?”

  Sarah smiled back at him, nodding in agreement. “It is not so much that they need that frequency of health checkups, although with infants it can often be he
lpful,” she explained. “I think it is more that the women like having someone to talk with about their concerns, to know they are being thought of. They often have issues they feel uncomfortable bringing up with family or friends.”

  “It is good of you to provide that service to them,” replied Reynald. “I am sure they appreciate it greatly.”

  “I enjoy it, myself,” responded Sarah. “It is a chance to help others out. Also, often the issues one person resolves can be shared with other women who face the same problem.”

  Reynald thought about this for a while, and the silence stretched in pleasant relaxation for Sarah. The gentle clop of hooves and cheerful bird song filled her world.

  Reynald’s low voice slid into the medley, quiet and unobtrusive. “You are spending your life helping women become good mothers and wives,” he commented, his eyes focused far down the lane. His voice remained neutral, without pressure. “Yet you and your sister choose to remain single.”

  Despite the quiet tone, Sarah’s independence flared, a frisson of annoyance interrupting the peace of the day. Looking away, she took in a long, deep breath. She had certainly fielded this very question from enough well-meaning people over the years. If Reynald wanted to go down this road for some reason, so be it.

  In a moment she had regained her balance. “I suppose we choose our own path, at our own pace,” she replied evenly. “Not every life fits into a neat schedule.” She had a feeling that Reynald was looking for a more personal answer, but she was not in the mood to pursue that thread.

  She flicked her eyes to meet Reynald’s for a moment. It tweaked at her that he was delving into this wound of hers, and she sought to redirect the conversation. “For example, do people ask you regularly why you have not married? Do they probe why you are spending your life riding around the wilds of Jerusalem?”

  Reynald nodded in understanding. “I realize it is different for men and women. Still, do not think that makes it better for one or the other of us. Women are expected to bear children as soon as they are able because soon they become unable to do so. Age makes it more difficult to bear a healthy child. Educating and tending to a child becomes more difficult.”

  Reynald’s gaze drifted out to the path. “Also, men cannot bear a child. That ability is reserved for a woman. It is a great responsibility – a great mystery – that she can cause a simple act to result in a perfectly formed child. To see that baby, with its little fingers and toes … it was truly a miracle. To think that a woman could not want to experience that – when men are fully shut out from ever hoping to – can be difficult.”

  Sarah wryly chuckled. “So that is the great burden that men bear, the burden of not being able to give birth?”

  Reynald shook his head. “No, it is different. I know you may find it a bit unfair, but a woman, to be accepted, only has to dress prettily and become pregnant. She instantly has her place in the world then, and the more children she has, the more valuable she becomes.”

  His gaze moved down the road. “For men, it is more challenging. We must prove our worth as a life-long supporter of a family. It is not enough to be loving. We must spend years proving we are of value, to amass the skill and savings to provide for our family.” His voice dropped to a quiet murmur. “By the time we do that, the woman we grew up with has already chosen another beau.”

  Sarah looked up with curiosity. This was something new. “Chosen another?”

  Reynald glanced up, his eyes momentarily shadowed with pain. He appeared surprised that he had spoken of the incident. His response was short and curt. “While you may have waited to wed, many women do not.”

  He looked back down the grassy lane. His gaze became unfocused, and they rode for a long while in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice had taken on a cynical bite. “In my younger days, I was quite fond of a girl in my village. Michelle was her name. She was smart, friendly, and she loved horses as much as I did. We courted for years. Finally we pledged ourselves to one another. We gave each other silver bracelets.”

  He held up his left arm, and Sarah saw a thin, silver loop gleam against his forearm. She remembered it now from Cecily’s labor, when his strong hands had slid over hers, taking their turn at the endless efforts.

  His voice went on. “Our love was not enough. Michelle’s father made it clear to me that I would need to make something of myself before we would be allowed to wed. He wanted to see proof that I was a man of responsibility. So, as much as it pained me to leave my family, I joined the Knights Templar, agreeing to a term of five years. It seemed a field that would suit my nature and prove myself to Michelle’s family.”

  He paused for a long while, his mind lost in past recollections. “When I joined the Knights Templar, Michelle’s family was indeed pleased. More importantly to me, Michelle was quite proud. She liked the idea of my protecting innocents.”

  Reynald’s face became set as he remembered those years. “We wrote each other regularly at first, letters full of passion and fire. Then, as the months passed, her letters came less and less frequently.”

  Reynald’s gaze clouded. “Finally I received a message from her parents. She had become engaged to another man – someone ten years her elder. He had already proven his valor, apparently, and was worthy of her right then. She decided there was no need to wait for me when a suitable man was immediately available.”

  Reynald shrugged, his eyes on the path ahead. “So you see, it is not easy on either end. You come of age, and the world is presented to you. You are pressured to choose someone – but if you choose to wait a few years, you are no worse off for that. On the other hand, when men come of age, they see the women they love go off into older men’s arms – and they are instructed to wait, to prove themselves, to save up and prepare. Eventually, if they are lucky, they might deserve a family.”

  Sarah chuckled. “It is hard to feel too sorry for you,” she teased. “Women often get saddled with far older men who are in their dotage. In comparison, men are suffered to be content with young, active, healthy girls full of life and energy.”

  Reynald’s eyes caught at hers, and she saw the serious look in them.

  “Not all men are solely interested in a firm body and an immature soul,” he quietly countered. “For my part, I am in this for the long haul. I would much rather have a partner in life with whom I could talk at length, who shares my values. I would much rather have a mature mate to understand my troubles, rather than a giggling girl who has just escaped from her parents’ clutches. Bodies fade over time, regardless of how they begin. A great soul remains steady.”

  Sarah looked away. “Is she so hard to find, then, this woman you seek?”

  Reynald was silent for a long time before answering. The miles drifted by in a haze of summertime sun. When he did speak, Sarah got the sense that he had chosen his words with great care.

  “It seems that most women are married young and unformed. By the time they reach a healthy stage of maturity, they are a long-time spouse of someone who does not appreciate them. It is too late.”

  The thought whirled in Sarah’s mind; she had not thought to view the situation in this light. She looked ahead down the path, to where it wended its way, eventually, to her quiet home. The image of her father and mother came to mind - of the adoration in their eyes when they held hands; of the way they treasured each other, even after all these years.

  Her shoulders eased. “Yet sometimes fate does bring together two who can appreciate each other with all their being.”

  His voice was hoarse. “Yes, it does.”

  She flushed; was he thinking of Michelle, the woman he had loved and had tragically lost? She glanced again at the silver bracelet he wore around his wrist. It must have been ten years ago that he had pledged his heart to the woman, and he still wore her token. She knew that Templars swore to chastity. Had he remained true to her all of these years? Perhaps his service in the Holy Land had become a form of refuge for him, hiding from a past wound which had not healed
. Sarah felt the pain of that revelation all too clearly.

  Her eyes moved up from the bracelet to his eyes – and stopped. He was gazing at her with a steadiness which seemed to ease into her very soul. Her instinct was to turn, to look away, to maintain the distance between them. At the same time, she basked in the strength he gave her. They rode like that, their horses’ hooves making a soft clop on the dirt road, and at last a soft smile came to her lips.

  He gave a knowing nod, and she was lost.

  Chapter 15

  Rachel was nearly aglow with delight when Sarah came down to eat the next morning. The blonde smiled warmly as Sarah sat down next to her father.

  Rachel took another bite of her butter-soaked turnip, then leaned forward. “So, where are you and Reynald off to for the day? Maybe getting some new pots for the fall herb storage perhaps?”

  Sarah glanced across at Reynald in surprise, but judging by his baffled expression, he knew as little of this as she did. “I do need some new pots,” she slowly admitted. “I had not thought to bother -”

  Reynald spoke up with a smile. “I would be glad to be of service. Tomorrow is Sunday after all, and the person I now need to follow up with is not available until Monday. I have the day open.”

  Sarah suddenly smiled, illumination hitting her. “Oh! Today is the day of that summer music festival, featuring Michael the musician,” she chuckled.

  Rachel’s mood lost a little of its sparkle. “I would have thought you would be tired of going out, after last week,” she offered hopefully.

  Sarah patted her hand. “Not to worry, dear sister of mine. I have more than enough to keep me busy for today. You go enjoy the music all you wish.”

  Her father leant forward. “Speaking of interesting men,” added Christopher with a grin, “We had a message arrive for you today, Rachel. It is from Seth.” He called over to one of the servants, who handed a slim, cream-colored scroll to Rachel.