by Amy Mullen
He had spent his time going over the accounts of the castle with Blaise and worked his men hard to be ready in the event there were problems. Blackstone was a veritable fortress, but it was not impregnable. His men spent hours jousting and at target practice, ensuring arrows fired by them would be true. They ran through all manners of combat until they were sweating and bruised. They would be ready. He did not want Gemma to have anything to fear.
Gemma. It was as if he did everything for her. Despite his distance and his need to spare himself any further pain, he knew he loved her. It was something that formed in his heart, renewed from the past, despite the fear loving her would ruin him again. He did not want to love her, but he did. He desired her in every way. The hardness in his heart melted so fast it caught him unaware, and yet there it was. He loved her.
He glanced down again to see Isabel splashing in the water, her kirtle soaked and muddied. Gemma was laughing with her, putting her hands up to her face to keep from getting wet. Her face was undeniably beautiful. All marks left by Phillip had gone. Rage erupted again as he thought of that man touching his wife. It had taken all his strength to not kill the idiot, and even more to stop from strangling him when he insisted Gemma's family was responsible for his downfall. He wanted to believe Bigod was staying with his tale to save his own neck. A cowardly excuse for a weak and pathetic man.
His musings were interrupted by footsteps coming toward him. They pounded on the stone walkway as if someone was being chased. "Milord!" someone shouted, and he spun around to see who was coming. Everything in him was on alert. Gemma and Isabel were below, and he did not wish them to be alarmed.
A man came to a halt in front of him. It was Matthew, one of his men-at-arms. Nicholas knew him well. He was trying to catch his breath as he spoke. "Milord," he repeated, "There appears to be a small party coming this way. I see about forty men on horseback."
"Where?" he demanded. He took off on foot as the man motioned toward the north wall. "Through the wood, milord," the soldier shouted over his shoulder.
All of his men were well trained. As soon as Nicholas was in motion, they were as well. Gemma raised her head in alarm as she noticed the men rushing the gatehouse. She took Isabel and headed toward the hall, dragging her protesting sister as quickly as she could.
He stayed atop the wall near the northeast tower, above where Phillip had been held just weeks earlier and watched. Both de Toeni and Gromme headed toward the gate, hands on the hilts of their swords in readiness. Each man had proved to be invaluable. After much deliberation, he had decided to keep both in the role of seneschal, though Oliver still served Blaise de Vere. Both could be trusted. Gromme had the youth and the vigor, and de Toeni had the wisdom of years in service that was beyond measure in value.
As the party neared, Nicholas visibly relaxed and let out a roar. He threw his head back and slapped the back of the man standing next to him. The soldier appeared startled and then looked again. He relaxed as he too recognized the banner of King Henry.
Nicholas took the steps within the tower two at a time and raced along the outer curtain wall so he could greet the king. He had no idea what Henry was doing there and why he was with such a small party of men, but he must see he was welcomed as he should be and that a feast was prepared.
When Henry neared the castle's outer curtain, the drawbridge lowered and the metal gate rose up so he could enter. Most of Nicholas's men recognized the banner shortly after he had done so. A few scurried away to be sure the stables were ready and to warn the kitchen the king had arrived unexpectedly.
Henry rode into the outer bailey, much like Nicholas had done weeks before. He pulled his mighty destrier to a halt near where Nicholas stood with his men behind him. Removing his helmet, he beamed at one of his most trusted knights.
"You are surprised to see me?" he bellowed as his men fell in behind him. "Do not go to too much fuss, for I shall not stay but an hour or so. I have much to do, and I want to be in London by the morn. I have a lot of things to finish up before I head off this autumn. I have loose ends to tie up in Normandy, among other places."
As always, Henry was a commanding presence. If you did not know he was a king, it would not take you long to know he was an important man. He was ambitious, strong willed, and always working toward a goal — and he expected the same of those who served him.
Nicholas stepped aside as two young stable boys came, waiting to see if the king wished to have service for his horse. "Nay," he shooed them away. "We have not been traveling long, and it will do well enough to graze here while we talk."
The king's men stayed on horseback, though a few got down and led their horses to be tied nearby. Henry was a robust man, with penetrating slate-colored eyes and a mop of tawny hair. At first glance, he had the aura of a king, an able king, but he did not enjoy the trappings of it. Instead, he was always on the move, securing his kingdom and letting his subjects know he was in charge, something that was lacking under Stephen's kind but weak rule of England.
He jumped from his horse, his mail glistening in the sun. He threw the reins to the man next to him and walked over to Nicholas. He thumped him on the back and offered him a riotous smile. "So how goes the marriage?"
"'Tis fine," Nicholas said, grinning back at him. "How is Bigod?"
"Ah, Bigod," the king said walking away from his men, expecting Nicholas to follow. "He shall be enjoying the finest of my dungeons until I feel like dealing with the likes of him. That is partially why I was out this way. I gave his father a warning. I will have no more of this nonsense out here. I sent you here to secure this castle because I know you are a good man, and he is to keep his distance."
Nicholas stopped walking as Henry came to a halt, looking around him at the curtain walls of Blackstone. He waited for him to continue.
"He can be replaced," the king said simply. "I need strong, loyal men in these castles along the Thames, not weak and manipulative plotters. One more wrong move and I shall turn his castle over to someone I trust. You will not have to worry about Phillip. He will never see his way onto the drawbridge of this castle again."
Nodding, he wondered if that was what Henry wanted or if there was more. He saw the king's gaze go toward the inner curtain wall near the bailey, and he glanced up to see what had caught his eye. It was his wife, walking hand in hand with Isabel. They hesitated when the king laid eyes on them, but he beckoned they should continue.
"Your lovely wife?" he asked, hitting Nicholas in the back again.
"Aye."
As they neared, Isabel was grinning from ear to ear and held her chin in the air. They stopped before the king, and he threw back his head and laughed. Just as Nicholas had always done with Isabel, he knelt down on one knee to greet her.
Her eyes widened quickly and she said, "Aren't I supposed to kneel to you?"
"You must be Isabel." He took her hand and kissed the back of it. He then stood to face Gemma, who was blushing. "And you must be Gemma, the fair wife of Nicholas de Reymes, daughter of Blaise de Vere."
"I am," she said and did a short bob in greeting. Nicholas had a curious smirk on his face as he watched while the king studied her. She did not know how to react to the king. She had never been to court and had no idea what to do or how to act.
Before anyone else could speak, she cleared her throat and spoke up, "Can I offer you food or drink? Surely you must be thirsty, milord, uh, sire, uh, King Henry," she stumbled over her words.
"You may call me Henry, and aye, water would be most enjoyable. I came for a short chat with your husband and shall be on my way within the hour. Give my best regards to your father, I hope he enjoys a full recovery from his malady soon." Bobbing again, she and Isabel twirled back toward the inner bailey and left Nicholas with the king.
"She is a beauty, Nicholas, you cannot say I did you no favor in sending you here," Henry said. "How is the hunt? Are the grounds good here?"
Nicholas clasped his hands behind his back. "Aye, the hunting here
is good. I fear I do not have much time for it though, as I am trying to figure out just who or what is bedeviling this castle. It has been peaceful since Phillip Bigod has been gone, but I doubt it was he. He is simply not smart enough. Someone else is working with him, or he is innocent of the deaths. I simply do not know."
"See to it you get things under control. I do need this area secured. I plan to spend time away, as you know, and I do not want to worry things are in tatters here. My wife is getting heavier with child, and I have much to do," he said, waving Nicholas to walk with him once more.
"I do not want to disappoint you. I need more time. I think I know where this person is entering, but I get no confirmation. I may soon have to spend some time at the post myself."
"See that you soon figure it out. I would like word you have done so before I sail for Normandy," Henry said, and then he spotted Leda and a few servants coming toward the party with water for everyone. "After I drink, I'd like to see the hunting grounds before I go."
Nicholas nodded as he left to go see to his destrier.
****
Gemma watched as her husband rode out of the gate with Henry at his side. She was not sure where they were going, but she was sure the king was not a man to disappoint. She had heard a lot about King Stephen in her life. He was a kind man but failed to have the heavy hand needed to keep order. Henry, on the other hand, seemed to have the world figured out. If only she could be that strong.
She had been playing with Isabel when she saw the men running. Fear formed immediately, but she did her best to stay calm. Once she realized the riders were friendly, she knew she must go greet whoever it was.
She had no idea it was Henry himself until she was near to him, and even then, she was not entirely sure until she faced him. Long ago he had visited Blackstone, but she did not get near him then. If anyone had the air of a king, this man did. Something in her told her to trust him, which meant, in turn, she could trust Nicholas.
It was that simple. She already did, of course, but she was not sure of what he would do next. That made her wary. She trusted him with her lands, her family, and her safety, but she was not so sure she should ever trust him with her heart.
These thoughts went through her mind like a wheel, spinning and spinning but getting nowhere. In an effort to stop the thoughts, she decided to go talk with her father. He was healing more quickly now, and she had given him ample time, but now was the time to finally talk with him about her troubles. Surely her father's wisdom could see her through this no matter what would happen next.
When she entered her father's quarters, he was up and about. He was not moving fast, but he was so much better than he had been weeks before. Her steps sounded near his doorway, and he stopped to see who she was.
"Father!" she said as she ran to him and threw her arms around him. "You are feeling better today?"
"I am," he said. "I am able to walk well, and my mind is clear. I tire so easily though, which Father Darius says may never go away."
"I pray he is wrong," she said, letting him go from her embrace. "Do you feel up to talking?"
"Of course. Sit with me," he said, gesturing to the small table near an arrow loop. "I had this brought up so I can eat here. The steps are tricky for me yet, and I prefer the quiet."
She wrinkled her forehead but said nothing else about his health. He sat across the discolored, wooden table from her. The furniture had been neglected, and she must see something was done soon. Right now, however, she had to tell her father what she had held back for seven years.
"I have something to tell you," she started, "something I should have told you long ago."
Her father's eyes settled upon her. A small smile formed and then disappeared.
"You know?" she said incredulously.
"I know," he said, patting the back of her hand.
"Why did you never speak of it then? Surely you must have been upset with me!"
"I did not know then. I know now. Your husband told me the entire story, including what brought an end to your budding romance."
Gemma was stunned. She sat back against the wall with her mouth slightly agape. Nicholas told him?
Her father continued. "I have spent time each day with Nicholas. He does not wish to change how I have done things here for so long. Other than our recent troubles, he said if something is working here, there is no need to change it. He is an inquisitive man, and it is my duty to our people to help him along. Life shall remain the same for most here."
"You are not upset? He told you everything?"
"Everything, right down to how you used to go meet him and for how long you met," her father said, sounding tired. "I cannot be upset about something from seven years ago. You were safe, or you would not be here today. I would have stopped it had I known, but I cannot say I would have put an end to your romance."
"I do not understand, Father," she said, clearly confused. "You did not mind? I was so young. What if it were Isabel? She is not so far off from the same age as I was back then."
"I would not want her sneaking out, but I would not discourage her as long as the young man was earnestly seeking her company without motive otherwise."
"Most fathers," she said as she stood and studied the tapestry on the wall, "would have protested and even chased such suitors away."
"Most fathers," Blaise said, "were not raising their children when I was. Your mother and I were of the same mind. It was too dangerous to foster you elsewhere, so we kept you home. There may have come a time when I wanted you to wed Bigod, though I see the error in that thinking now. I never would have forced it. I saw no need. We have all we need. I do not need to wed my daughters for financial gain. You could learn just as much here as you could in another household. You and Isabel were meant to be free to make your own choices. It is not common, but 'twas my decision."
"But what of Gavin?" she questioned her father, facing him again. "You sent him away to be fostered in another household."
"Gavin was to be a man. Men of privilege have but two choices. They can become fighters, or they become clergymen. Your brother was not the toughest child, but he was in no way interested in becoming a priest. Times were not the best for sending a son away to be fostered, and many families did not, but I knew it was all he had. If I did not send him, he might have ended up with no aim, drive, or purpose. A man without a purpose is no man at all."
She nodded, sitting down once again. "And Nicholas? You do not mind him acting in your stead? You do not feel like regaining your position of lord once you have fully recovered?"
"Nay, girl," he said, shaking his head, "I do not. I tire easily, and I am not so sure that will change. I am happy to stay here but not as lord. That is Nicholas's position now, and you are his lady. I am an old man and I wish to rest."
"You trust him completely then?" she asked, her green eyes studying his face.
Her father nodded and said, "And you should too. He is a good man and has shown himself to be kind and merciful to all that dwell here. It would be in your best interest to trust him too. He is your husband now and no matter the misunderstanding between you, you have to trust him."
"And of that misunderstanding? You do not believe his family was siding with Matilda?"
"My dear, Matilda was retired from her quest to rule the English by then. The story makes no sense, though back then it was not known she had truly given up. It soon became apparent the story was not true, but by then, 'twas out of my hands. Stephen and Henry made their own judgments."
"I will let you rest now, Father. You look tired," Gemma said. Her father stood but more slowly than she liked. "Can I get you anything to eat?"
He shook his head. "You are going to be fine, my dearest," he said, as he placed a kiss on her cheek. "I will see you on the morrow."
****
She did not see Nicholas again until they sat at the dais to sup at sunset. He appeared tired. Isabel was her usual charming self as she told him all about her new tadpole trap. T
o his credit, he seemed to listen with interest and promised to see it for himself the next day. Gemma ate her food and stared at the wall, thinking about her conversation with her father.
A log snapped in the fireplace, jolting her back to reality. Nicholas was staring at her and Isabel was standing, ready to leave the table for the night.
"Gemma, are you sleeping at the table?" her sister said, crinkling her nose.
"Of course not," she said a little too quickly, "be off and get to bed, would you?"
Hesse was already there, gently pulling Isabel by the arm, telling her it was time for her bath. She reluctantly left, but not until after shooting her sister an odd look.
"My meeting with Henry was quite enlightening," Nicholas said without preamble. "He is an exceptionally strong willed man, and he wants nothing less than perfection from his knights. I am no exception no matter what I have done for him on the battlefield in the past."
"He was well then?" Gemma asked, trying to keep the conversation going. She would not let him know she loved him, but she did not think it was too much to ask to build a friendship with him.
"Aye, he is always well," he said, taking a bite of bread. He lifted his wine to wash it down as he raised an eyebrow at her. "What is on your mind? 'Tis as if you are not here but somewhere far away."
"Not a thing," she said, looking into her goblet at the liquid within. "I am just tired."
"Rest then," he said patiently as he stood. "I have things to do."
He left the great hall quickly. His shortness was cutting her down. Her heart was aching, and she did not know how to fix it. She got up, and a soldier got up to follow her. Something had to change; then he would have time to spend with her. Instead, he just moped around and relentlessly questioned his men. Some days he worked them to death. She saw it all.
