The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Though Geoffrey had only seen the king from a distance, Merryn told him Edward had visited Kinwick twice and would return for a third time during June. As May ended, Geoffrey’s anxiety grew.

  Until a missive arrived.

  He entered the great hall after spending most of the morning poring over the ledgers to familiarize himself with the husbandry of the estate. Kinwick easily fed its people. After storing an adequate amount of grain and keeping a certain number of animals from the herds each year, Merryn had begun selling off the surplus. Her planning left Kinwick with an abundance in its treasury. With the upcoming royal visit, the extra money would be needed. When Geoffrey studied how expensive it had been to entertain the king and his court on their last visit two years ago, the sum left him speechless.

  The noon meal was about to start. He went to the dais and took his place next to his wife. Father Dannet blessed the meal. The pantler brought them bread and butter. Geoffrey split the trencher in half as Merryn accepted cups of poured ale from a page. He downed it and motioned for it to be filled again.

  “Who knew laboring over numbers could be such thirsty work?” he said teasingly.

  “I am happy for you to take on that responsibility,” Merryn replied. “And before the royal progress arrives, we should take a few days to visit all of Kinwick’s tenants.” She took a sip of ale. “They need to see you in person, Geoffrey. You can determine what repairs should be made to the various cottages across the estate.”

  “When would these repairs begin?” he asked, interested in her opinion.

  “Not until the fall harvest has been gathered. Winter is the best time.” Merryn took a bite of the pheasant. “Cook has done well today.”

  Geoffrey bit into the boiled pheasant, succulent and spiced to perfection. Already, he had gained weight thanks to Cook’s delicious meals. His clothes fit him better and he felt stronger each day. The time to begin training again with his knights had come. He would spend time in the yard starting tomorrow.

  Tilda appeared with a scroll in her hand. “My lord. This just arrived from the Earl of Winterbourne. The messenger said a reply is requested.”

  She handed him the scroll. Geoffrey dropped it on the table as if it might burn his fingers. He returned to his meal. But what he swallowed left a sour taste as his stomach knotted painfully. Dread rippled through his body. He forced himself to keep his seat instead of fleeing from the hall in terror.

  “I wonder what Lord Hardwin wants,” mused Merryn. “This is the first we’ve heard from him since his father’s funeral.”

  Just hearing that name made Geoffrey’s head pound. He broke out in cold sweat.

  “Open it,” she urged. “My curiosity is aroused.” She rested a hand upon his thigh under the trestle table.

  Usually, her touch brought him comfort. He tried to draw strength from her love for him as he broke the seal and unrolled the missive. Geoffrey allowed Merryn to hold the left side as he did the right so they could read together.

  To my special friends Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn—

  I would ask for the pleasure of your company tonight at Winterbourne. We can dine in private as I introduce you to my betrothed. I also have a small favor to ask of you.

  I hope to see you in good spirits and that you will accept my hospitality and stay the night before returning to Kinwick on the morrow.

  Winterbourne

  “We’ve never been close with those at Winterbourne, thanks to Lord Berold,” Merryn said. “It’s nice that Lord Hardwin is reaching out in friendship.” Merryn gave Geoffrey’s thigh a squeeze and took a sip from her cup. “I wonder what favor he might ask of us.”

  A chill ran through him despite the warmth of the room. Hardie had asked two things of him when he granted Geoffrey his freedom. Geoffrey had kept his word and not revealed Berold’s role in his disappearance. Doing so had almost cost him Merryn’s love and trust. The second had been to grant some future favor, no matter what Hardie asked of him. That time had now arrived.

  Geoffrey wondered what the price of his freedom would truly cost.

  Geoffrey escorted Merryn into the great hall of Winterbourne. He glanced about the room and thought of all the meals taken here, all the feasts and celebrations that had occurred, while he shivered with cold and hunger in the damp dungeons below.

  “Welcome, my friends.”

  Hardie approach them, his arms spread wide. The earl greeted Merryn with a kiss and then stretched a hand in greeting to Geoffrey. He took the offered hand as Hardie clapped him on the back.

  “I am delighted that you accepted my invitation. Come. You must meet Johamma.”

  They followed Hardie up a winding staircase to the solar. A petite, dark-haired girl of about ten and six sat with needle and thread. She smiled shyly as she put her sewing aside and stood to drop a curtsey.

  Hardie took her elbow and guided her over. “This is Johamma, my betrothed. We shall marry soon.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Lord Geoffrey. Lady Merryn. Hardie has spoken highly of you both. I hope you will be able to attend our wedding.”

  “We would be honored to see you joined in marriage with the earl,” Merryn told the girl. “Have you set the date?”

  “No,” Hardie replied. “But I am eager for us to wed.”

  “I only wish my parents could be here,” Johamma said. “They both passed away several years ago. My aunt and uncle raised me, but they are elderly and will be unable to travel to Winterbourne for our wedding.”

  “Then I have an idea,” Merryn said. “King Edward will visit Kinwick this very month. He loves pageants and tournaments and any event which brings people together. I believe holding a wedding while he is here would be of great joy to him and the queen. What do you say? Would you like to marry at Kinwick before our king?”

  Geoffrey’s hands fisted at his side. He held back the fury that raged through him. He saw the look of surprise cross Johamma’s face and then the sweet smile as she looked up at her intended.

  Hardie ignored her and met Geoffrey’s eyes. “Would that suit you, my lord? I would not wish to impose on you in any way.”

  Geoffrey forced his hands to relax. “We would be honored to host your wedding, my lord.”

  “Then it’s settled,” declared Merryn. “Johamma and I shall see to the details.” She smiled at the young woman. “I look forward to getting to know our new neighbor as we plan for the wedding and feast.”

  Johamma sighed. “To think I will marry in front of our king. Thank you, my lady, for such a lovely suggestion.”

  Hardie asked for them to be seated. He poured wine and offered fruit and cheese to them. They talked of the area and some of the customs in southern England since Johamma came from the north, where she declared many things were different.

  Geoffrey kept waiting for Hardie to speak of the favor he wanted him to agree to. Until he knew what the earl had in mind, he found it hard to relax.

  An hour into their conversation, Hardie struck.

  “And how are your children, my lady?” he asked Merryn.

  “The twins grow every day,” she said with pride. “Alys is interested in nature and the healing arts. I am teaching her what our healer shared with me about herbs. Alys already knows how to create several tonics.”

  “And your boy?”

  Merryn chuckled. “Ancel is all boy, my lord. He sleeps with a wooden sword Geoffrey’s cousin, Raynor, made for him. He watches the knights in the training yard and wants nothing more than to ride into battle as his father did.”

  “You fought at Poitiers, Lord Geoffrey. Am I correct?”

  “Aye.” He did not wish to elaborate.

  “And how old are your children?” Hardie asked him.

  “They turn six years of age in August.”

  “So another year before they leave to foster elsewhere.”

  “They might forego fostering for a few years,” Geoffrey replied. “I have missed seeing them grow up. I wish to have them close to me f
or an extended time.”

  The earl gave him a winsome smile. “Then I have the perfect solution, Lord Geoffrey.”

  He finally understood what Hardie wanted.

  Geoffrey bottled up his outrage and calmly nodded for Hardie to continue.

  “I would like to foster several youths in my household. I hoped that you might send Ancel to me for training and instruction.” Hardie looked at Merryn. “Since our estates adjoin one another, Ancel could return often for visits. You could see him grow into manhood without a long absence away from Kinwick.”

  Geoffrey saw the joy on Merryn’s face at the prospect of their son fostering at Winterbourne.

  “Having Ancel nearby pleases me, my lord.” Merryn paused. “And with your upcoming marriage, Lady Johamma might consider taking on Alys as part of her household once Alys is of age. That way, the twins would not be separated and Geoffrey and I could see them on a regular basis.”

  Hardie looked to his betrothed. “Would that please you, Johamma?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Aye, my lord. I would be happy for Lady Alys to join us at Winterbourne.” She turned to Merryn. “I would enjoy learning something about herbs and the healing arts. Would you consider teaching me, my lady? That way you could continue schooling Alys.”

  “Nothing would please me more.” Merryn paused and faced her husband. “Geoffrey? You are so quiet. Would it please you to have the twins at Winterbourne?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss upon it. “If it pleases you, Wife, then I am also pleased.” Geoffrey looked at Hardie. “But what I said stands. I want the twins to remain at Kinwick a while longer.”

  Hardie looked content. And victorious. He lifted his cup. “I can agree to that. Here’s to Ancel and Alys one day becoming a part of the household at Winterbourne.”

  All four of them joined in and sipped their wine. Geoffrey smiled, hiding his displeasure at the thought of his flesh and blood living at Winterbourne, the place he had been enslaved.

  A servant brought their evening meal. As they ate, the two women became engrossed in their conversation. Geoffrey decided to press Hardie about this favor.

  He leaned closer, his voice low. “Why, Hardie? When your father took everything from me—robbed me of years of seeing my own children grow up—why do want them to foster at Winterbourne? As an earl of the realm, you have your pick among the noble families as who might foster in your household. Why must you take my children?”

  Hardie sighed. “I want to make it up to you, Geoffrey. You helped parent me when my own father chose not to. You were my only friend. I want to become a man of honor as you are. I wish to teach your children to be kind and noble and to do the right thing. In some small way, I hope that will repay my debt to you.”

  Though the thought sickened Geoffrey, he knew the decision had been made.

  And the code of chivalry which he had lived his life by now became something he hated.

  As the meal came to an end, he refused to spend another night under the roof of Winterbourne, whether in the highest of chambers or the lowest of dungeons.

  Geoffrey caught Merryn’s eye. “My love, I know we said we would stay the night at the earl’s invitation, but all this talk of Ancel and Alys makes me long to see them. Would you mind if we left now for home? I hate to be apart from them for even a single night.”

  Chapter 25

  Merryn led Alys to the small room where she stored her medicines. Alys skipped happily along, humming to herself. Merryn thought it might be time to give Alys a lute and lessons.

  Once they reached their destination, Merryn lit two lanterns so they could see to work.

  As she began setting out what they would need, she quizzed Alys, much as Sephare had done with her when Merryn was the same age.

  “What should I do if I’ve bumped into something and bruised myself?”

  “I know.” Alys grinned. “Put a large stone into the fire until it’s scorching hot. Then take it out and toss it in water. Dip a cloth in and bathe the bruise.”

  “How often would I do that?”

  Alys thought a moment. “When you rise and when you ready yourself to sleep.”

  “Very good. Why twice a day”

  “It speeds the healing.”

  “And what about a burn? In case you pick up that hot stone with your bare hand instead of a cloth.”

  Alys giggled. “I wouldn’t do that, Mother.”

  “Pretend that you did.”

  “Can I pretend Ancel did? Girls remember things, Mother. Boys always rush in. They do not think. That’s what Tilda says.”

  Merryn chuckled. “Tilda may be right. So Ancel has burned his hand and his loving sister, Alys, will care for him. How would you help your brother’s hand to heal?”

  “I would get some hard fat of a sheep and . . .” Her voice trailed off. She scrunched her nose up in thought. “Oh! I boil it with the rind from an elder tree.”

  “What is made from that mixture?”

  “An ointment. You put it on every day. It will cure a burn and not leave a scar.”

  Merryn hugged her daughter. “I believe someday you will become a great healer. People will come from far and wide for your magical touch, Alys. You are learning your lessons well.”

  “I like to practice on Ancel.”

  “If he allows it. The day may come when Ancel might not be so cooperative,” she warned.

  Alys sniffed. “He thinks he’s so important, carrying around his sword.”

  “Remember, we need to ask Raynor to make you one.”

  “I think Father should make it for me. Then it would be better than the one Ancel has.”

  Merryn ruffled her child’s hair. “Your father would enjoy doing that for you. Ask him when we dine tonight.”

  Merryn picked up two objects they would use in their work today. “Remind me what to call this, Alys.”

  The little girl smiled. “’Tis a mortar and pestle, Mother.”

  “And what will we use them for?”

  “To grind the herbs we have picked.”

  “Aye, into a fine powder. The stone is hard enough to do so, but in a pinch you may also use a very hard wood to pound and crush.” Merryn inspected the mortar and pestle. “Don’t forget that it’s important that you clean it in boiling water after each use.”

  “Why?”

  “You mustn’t allow any of the old herbs you used to remain on the surface and mix with your new creation. A wise healer always cleans her vessels well.”

  Merryn laid out the first batch of dried herbs to grind. “Place these in the mortar. Fill it about halfway to start.”

  Alys did as asked and gave her mother a hopeful look. “May I try it?”

  “You may.”

  Alys concentrated on her task, her movements careful and methodical. She was a thoughtful child and never wanted to disappoint anyone, least of all her mother. Sometimes it surprised Merryn how much they were alike.

  “My lady?”

  Merryn glanced up and saw Tilda standing in the doorway.

  “Your brother and wife have arrived. They are most eager to see you and Lord Geoffrey.”

  “Ah, so Hugh has returned and read my missive. Please escort them to the solar, Tilda.”

  “I have done so, my lady.”

  “Then bring us wine and fruit.” She turned to her daughter. “Set the mortar and pestle aside and cover them with a cloth. We will return to our lesson later this afternoon.”

  “Do you think Milla came for us to help her weeping eyes?”

  “It’s possible, but I think she and your Uncle Hugh are here to visit with your father. He is with Diggory, looking at the rent monies most recently gathered. Would you tell him to come to the solar?”

  “May I ask him about making me a sword?” pleaded Alys.

  “Of course.” She smoothed the girl’s hair and then gave her a nudge. Alys skipped away, once again humming to herself.

  Merryn hurried to their private qu
arters. When she arrived, she found Hugh and Milla seated, watching Ancel wave his wooden sword around. They both clapped at his antics. She observed the wistful look on Milla’s face.

  “I’m so happy to see you both,” Merryn proclaimed. She caught Ancel’s sword hand and lowered it to his side. “Enough entertaining your aunt and uncle. Run along now and let Alys practice on you.”

  Ancel’s face lit up. “What shall I have this time, Mother? A broken leg?”

  Merryn thought a moment. “Nay. Tell her you are going bald. And that you have a raging fever. Let me know how she decides to care for you.”

  Her son grinned his goodbye and raced from the room.

  “I believe that boy is in constant motion.” Hugh rose and greeted her with a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek. “And your news, Merryn. Christ’s Wounds! I returned from London to your astounding message. We came straight away once I opened and read it. Did Geoffrey rise from the dead? What—”

  “I shall be brief, for he may come in at any moment.”

  Merryn decided to keep with what she had told others, though she felt guilty lying to her brother. “Geoffrey suffered a most grievous head injury. He doesn’t know where he has been. He has suffered much before he gained his way back to Kinwick. I would rather you not address his time away, Brother. We are concentrating on rejoicing at his return, instead.”

  Hugh frowned at her explanation but did not question her further, thanks to Geoffrey bursting through the door, a wide smile upon his face.

  “Hugh!” he cried. The two men embraced, their hands beating each other’s back till Merryn felt they would be bruised for life.

  Hugh pulled away first. “I have someone you must meet.” He turned and took Milla’s hand. She rose and came to stand before Geoffrey.

  “This is my wife, Milla. My heart’s delight,” Hugh declared. “And we are bursting with good news.”

  Merryn’s eyes widened. “Are you-” Her eyes dropped to her sister-in-law’s belly. It was slightly rounded under her cotehardie.

  “Aye!” Milla declared with delight, throwing her hands into the air.

  Merryn clung to her. Both women began weeping tears of joy.