“Since when do I have to report to you?” Nicholas said in a grumpy tone. He blamed the lack of sleep for his disposition.
“Methinks somebody needs to look after yer arse. Look at ye,” Dirk raised his voice. He flung his hand towards Nicholas. “Are ye shaking, lad? You need to take yer coat off and get into some dry clothes, and I’ll bring back some hot food to the tent,” Dirk said as he held the flap aside.
“You sound like a shrew.”
“Do I now?” Dirk grinned. “Were ye kept warmer than ye’re letting on?”
“Nothing happened,” Nicholas snapped. “Do not stand there like a grinning simpleton. Get me something to eat. I’m going to sleep—I have had enough of your harassing. I take it you are through with your questions.”
“Yer disposition stinks,” Dirk grumbled as he marched off.
Nicholas couldn’t remember when he’d been so cold. His toes felt like chunks of ice, and he knew they would burn like fire when he began to warm up. That is, if he ever warmed up again. He stripped off his clothes and slipped into some dry ones, then climbed into his cot and pulled the fur up to his chin. If he just closed his eyes for a moment, the rest would relieve some of his aches.
Yes, even now he could feel a little warmth seeping into his bones. Now, if he could but sleep, he’d feel like a new man. Or, at least, the one he was before his misadventure of the night before.
Upon Dirk’s return, he found Nicholas fast asleep, so he decided not to wake him. He placed a few hot stones in the middle of the tent to keep some warmth inside. After Dirk placed the last stone in the pit, he again glanced at Nicholas. “By the saints, he’s smiling,” Dirk said to himself. Maybe Nicholas had finally found something that would make him happy. And Dirk couldn’t help wondering if it was the lovely lady of Cranborne. He smiled, shook his head, then returned to the other men to continue training. Snow or no snow, training was a must.
Noelle saw no one when she walked out into the bailey. Everyone must still be at the church putting up greenery, she reasoned. However, she was still exhausted from her adventure last night, so she decided not to seek them out. Thinking that this would be a perfect time to look around the castle, she turned to go back into the Great Hall.
She walked across the hall and down a long corridor that led into a passage. She knew she was headed towards the kitchen by the smell of the roasting chicken that drew her. At Cranborne, their kitchen was in a separate building, but here it had been joined to the main castle by a passageway. She passed a bakehouse and a buttery; just as she walked past the pantry, an elderly woman came out. Her black hair had streaks of gray running through the long braids. Her shoulders were bent, probably from years of hard work, but her face was pleasant even though she was mumbling to herself about some oaf. When she saw Noelle, the woman came to a complete stop.
She placed a bowl of peas she’d been carrying on a table just outside the door, then looked at Noelle. “Is something amiss, milady?”
Noelle shook her head. “Nay. What is your name, good woman?”
“Matilda, milady. I assist the steward with the household staff. Can I get you something?”
“I would like to see the Round Table, if you could point me in the right direction.”
“I was told that you are not to be walking, milady,” Matilda said firmly.
“That was true. But Merlin was just here, and he has taken the pain away. I’m fine now, as you can see.” Noelle turned around. “I do not wish to bother anyone, but I would like to see this grand table that I have heard so much about. If you could just tell me which way to go.”
“It is no bother, milady.” Matilda smiled then took Noelle’s hand and tugged her forward. “Guess I know this castle better than almost anyone. I can show you if you do not mind an old lady showing you ’round.”
“I would like nothing better. How long have you worked here?”
“Since shortly after Camelot was built. You see, Merlin chose me to keep an eye on our king when he was but a small lad. So I have watched him grow into the man that he has become. And a fine one he is.”
“King Arthur must trust you a great deal.”
“Aye.”
They arrived at a set of doors with a single gold ring in the center of each. Matilda pushed open the door and gestured for Noelle to enter a large chamber.
The walls were brightly painted. The floor, a smooth marble stone. In the very center was a beautiful table wrought in precious woods, huge in size, with fifty chairs surrounding it. On the back of each chair was a knight’s name printed in letters of gold. All but one chair, which had nothing on it.
“It is impressive,” Noelle said, “but why does the one chair lack a name?”
“That seat is the Siege Perilous. Only the purest knight can have that seat.”
“May I sit there?”
“Nay.” Matilda caught Noelle’s arm. “I am sorry, milady, but no man shall sit there but the one who we have yet to see. If any man sits in the chair other than the pure knight, he shall either suffer death or sudden and terrible misfortune for his temerity.”
“I see,” Noelle nodded. “I will remember that in the future,” she said as she ran her hand over the back of a chair. Then she noticed Sir Nicholas’s chair. “I wonder who the knight will be?”
“We will know when his name is placed on the back of the chair as on the others. The names just appear on the chairs. It is magic. So far no one has taken a chance to see if he is the chosen one.”
“I imagine that you have heard many things going on in this room,” Noelle said more to herself than to anyone. Then she asked, “Has King Arthur held council of late?”
“Nay. Usually they gather every fortnight, or if King Arthur has an issue with one of them, it could be sooner. But not your knight, milady. He has never been called to task by the king.”
Noelle looked at Matilda, not understanding what she meant. “I beg your pardon?” Surely, Nicholas was always being taken to task, she thought.
“Sir Gavin. He is a fine knight.”
How could she have misunderstood? “So everyone tells me,” Noelle said as she tried not to frown at her mistake. But she couldn’t control the heat that rushed to her face. The minute Matilda had said, Your knight, Noelle had immediately thought of Nicholas, which was silly because he wasn’t hers or anyone’s. Thank goodness no one could read her thoughts.
“Now, Sir Nicholas—” Matilda stopped and nodded toward the chair that Noelle had her hand on. “—I really shouldn’t say more.”
“Please do,” Noelle said a little too quickly. She saw Matilda’s eyebrows go up. “He came to my rescue yesterday when I lost my way, so I am a little curious about him.”
“I don’t want you to think that I gossip, milady,” Matilda said as she started around the table and adjusted each chair.
“I will not think such. Remember, I asked the question of you. You did not volunteer.”
“Sir Nicholas is the bravest of all the knights because he has so little to lose. When one has nothing to lose, he takes dangerous chances.” Matilda had made the complete circle and now stood beside Noelle again. “Guard your heart from that knave, milady.”
“That is not the reason I was asking,” Noelle rushed to assure Matilda. “He was very noble when he rescued me.” Noelle saw Matilda staring at her with knowing eyes, so Noelle stopped explaining. The more she protested, the more Matilda would read into it. The old woman was like Merlin—she knew more than she should.
Noelle knew she shouldn’t ask any more questions, yet she found herself wanting to hear more. “Why have you warned me about Sir Nicholas?”
Matilda gave a sly smile. “I am an old woman who speaks too freely.”
“I think you are a wise woman who sees and knows things others do not. Please tell me about Nic—Sir Nicholas,” Noelle quickly corrected.
“As you have probably noticed Sir Nicholas is pleasant to look upon. Is he not?”
Noelle nodded. Why no
t admit what the woman already knew. “Aye.”
“He has charmed every maiden he has ever known. The problem is that while they lose their hearts to him, he remains aloof, keeping his own heart well protected. In the end it is always the same—he leaves them for the next one. I believe he looks at his dalliances as conquests.”
“I heard Sir Gavin speak of one such lady just last evening.”
“That would be the Lady Clarisse. She thought she could trap Sir Nicholas by getting herself with child.”
“Oh—” Noelle eyes widened. Would he walk away from a woman carrying his child? If so, he wasn’t very noble at all.
“It is nothing to be embarrassed about, my child. It’s a natural thing between men and women, as you will find out for yourself.”
Noelle blushed. “I know little of such matters, as my mother died when I was small.”
“I see.” Matilda took Noelle’s hand. “I felt the same as you when I was your age, but you will learn.”
“Did Nicholas leave her with child?”
“Nay. He takes certain precautions so that no woman can claim a child that is not his.”
“What does he do?”
Matilda leaned over and whispered in Noelle’s ear. “Oh,” Noelle said, knowing her face had to be completely scarlet. “Why does he do thus?”
“If he wanted an heir, he would marry. But it will never happen. He’s afraid of—” Matilda trailed off, not completing her sentence.
“How do you know so much about Nicholas?”
“Arthur and Nicholas are cousins. I worked at Thornberry Castle and cared for Nicholas when he was a babe.”
“Matilda,” a serving maid called from the hallway, since she wasn’t allowed to enter the room.
“I’m coming,” Matilda said as she started for the door. “Come, my child, we will finish our talk another day.”
Noelle followed respectfully, but she didn’t want to wait for another day. She wanted to hear the rest now. And then Noelle realized she was becoming too much like Isabelle. The thought made her smile.
She could wait, Noelle decided. Besides, she was only curious. It wasn’t as if she had fallen in love with Sir Nicholas the Dragon. She’d have to be a fool to give her heart to a man who so obviously didn’t have one.
As Noelle made her way back to the Great Hall, she admitted to herself that she liked Nicholas.
But that was all.
She’d never be as foolish as the others . . . .
Her heart was safe . . . She would just have to keep reminding herself every so often of what Matilda had told her.
She was merely curious about the man who had rescued her from the cold.
That was all . . . .
CHAPTER 8
Snow crunched under Tristan’s boots as he walked between the pavilions after a visit with Sir Gavin, who had told him about Noelle’s adventure. The foolish girl would one day get herself killed if she was not careful.
Tristan looked up to see Dirk coming from a different direction with a small black pot in his hand. “What have you there?” Tristan asked.
“Something hot, lad. Have you eaten?” Dirk asked as Tristan fell in beside him.
“Aye. A while ago,” Tristan answered with a nod. “I was informed that Sir Nicholas had rescued my sister from yet another foolish stunt and has brought her safely back to Camelot. I haven’t seen Nicholas anywhere, so I thought to look for him in his tent.”
“Come with me. It is where I am headed. The fool dragged his sorry arse in this morning, and in a wet coat, at that. He hadn’t bothered to tell any of us he was heading out or we would have gone with him,” Dirk grumbled sounding more like a wife than first in command.
“All I knew was that Sir Nicholas’s falcon, Boots, hadn’t returned and that he had gone looking for her.
He told me later, when he found yer sister, that she was in a tree with Boots, trying to rescue her.”
Tristan laughed. “It is my sister, all right. I fear she is a bit wild for her own good. When she was a small child, we were forever pulling her out of trees. And, do not make the mistake of challenging her with a bow and arrow. Believe me, you’ll not win.”
Dumfounded Dirk looked at Tristan. “Really? Yer sister is an archer?” Dirk asked as they passed several tents.
“Aye. A damned good one, too.”
“That’s most unusual.”
“It is Noelle. She is a most unusual woman.”
The red dragon on Sir Nicholas’s tent waved in the cold wind making it look as though the creature was snapping and charging, as though the cloth monster had challenged their right to enter. Tristan was so intrigued he hadn’t noticed that Dirk had stopped and Tristan ran into the big Scot. “Sorry.”
“Yer sister appeared to be a gentle lady last night at dinner,” Dirk said as he reached for the tent flap that served as a door.
Tristan chuckled. “Looks can be deceiving. There is not anything gentle about my sister.”
“I’ll remember that in the future,” Dirk said with a smile as he held the flap open so Tristan could proceed before him.
“Ye have company, old man,” Dirk announced once he was inside. He looked down at the sleeping man and shook his head. “I can remember when ye could go days without sleep. Now look at ye.” Dirk set the pot of hot soup on the warm stones piled in the middle of the pavilion. Since he’d gotten no response, Dirk looked back toward Nicholas. “Are ye going to get up or sleep all day?”
Nicholas didn’t move. Dirk frowned. “It is not like him,” he mumbled as he went over to the far side of the tent where Nicholas lay wrapped in blankets. “Ye must get up and eat, mon.”
Tristan bent down on one knee and placed his hand on Nicholas’s forehead. “He burns with fever.”
Dirk shook his head. “Never seen him like this. We must get someone from the castle to tend him.”
Tristan straightened. “I think we should move him inside the castle. This cold and damp ground cannot be good for him. Noelle is good with fever. She has the gift of healing.” Tristan, who had been staring at Nicholas, got to his feet and looked at Dirk. “If we’re going to get him to the castle, we are going to need a few more men to help carry him.”
Dirk half laughed. “He isn’t a wee one, I’ll say that much. I’ll go fetch a couple of men.”
Six men struggled as they carried Nicholas into the Great Hall to a gaping Matilda. “What have you done to Sir Nicholas?” she cried, hurrying over to them.
Dirk looked at Matilda and frowned. “We have done nothing, woman. Nicholas is sorely sick and needs tending to. What room can we put him in?”
“Take him to the solar in the tower. It has the largest bed. Then I’ll summon a leech for him. Follow me,” she said, and turned to leave.
“Nay,” Tristan said as they followed the old woman.
“My sister, Noelle, has the gift of healing. I shall fetch her to attend to Sir Nicholas after we get him to bed.” Tristan grunted while carrying the knight, who weighed as much as a large rock ... a very large rock.
Finally, they entered the sparsely furnished solar, Matilda had been right—the bed was larger than most They placed their burden on the bed.
“I’ll show you to Lady Noelle’s chambers, milord,” Matilda said and then pointed to Nicholas. “These clothes are still damp. You need to strip him and place him under the rugs to warm him.”
Tristan followed Matilda down several winding passageways and up the stairs, until he found his sister’s chamber. Matilda left him so she could get more quilts. Tristan knocked on the oak door and waited.
Noelle opened the door. Her surprise at seeing her brother was evident on her face. “Tristan, I have not seen you since we arrived. Where have you been?” she said and backed away from the door so he could enter. “You look troubled. Is there a problem?”
“I heard of your adventure yesterday,” Tristan said. His gaze swept to her feet. “I thought you had hurt your ankle.”
“Aye,
I did,” she replied, then did a very unladylike thing and lifted her skirt to show him her ankle. “I saw Merlin earlier today, and he relieved me of my pain with his magic.”
Tristan nodded. “Aye. It is amazing what that man can do. I had forgotten that Merlin was here. But I did not come to chat. Did you pack your herbs and medicines and bring them with you?”
“Are you sick?”
“Nay, I am fine. Did you bring them?” Tristan snapped.
“You are in a fine mood. Are you the one who is feeling poorly? It is your stomach making you grumpy, isn’t it?” she asked as she started for her chest to get the herbs.
“Nay.” Tristan shook his head and chuckled. “It is not for me, but for Sir Nicholas.”
Noelle swung around and gaped at her brother, but said nothing. She felt lightheaded as if all the blood had drained from her brain. She hurried the rest of the way to her chest. “Something has happened, hasn’t it?” She snatched out a small, brown bag from deep within the confines of the trunk and turned back to Tristan. “But Sir Nicholas was fine this morning. What has happened? Is he all right?”
Tristan looked at her with the oddest expression.
“Oh no!” she gasped. “It’s bad, is it not?”
“By the saints. I don’t believe it,” Tristan finally said as he opened the door.
“Believe what?”
“You have finally found the one you’ve been searching for. You care for Nicholas,” Tristan declared.
“Of course I care for him. He is a kind man, and he came to my rescue yesterday. Had he not, I might have frozen to death alone in the forest. Now, let us be off.” Noelle tried to brush past her brother.
Tristan grabbed both her arms and turned her towards him. “You love him, do you not?”
“You speak nonsense, Tristan. I have just met Sir Nicholas,” Noelle said. She tried to jerk out of his grip. She wasn’t ready to answer questions about Nicholas.
“I am your brother, Noelle. I can see something in your eyes that I’ve not seen before. You are not good at hiding your feelings, my dear sister.”
Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts Page 27
