Chapter Sixteen #3
The monkey was affectionate and soon curled up on Dustin’s lap as she stroked it tenderly. It was a tiny little thing with a beard that moved comically when the vendor gave it something to eat. Dustin forgot all about the baker.
She lost all track of time petting the monkey and playing with it, laughing when it would smile a big monkey-smile.
Her guards never said a word and neither did the vendor, although she was costing him money the longer she played with his source of income.
But after a while she realized that she was taking the man’s valuable time, although she was depressed at the thought of leaving the monkey.
Thanking the man for his kindness, she gave him all of the coins that Christopher had given her for the baker. She turned around to the soldier in charge and shrugged carelessly.
“I guess we are not going to the baker, after all,” she said. “We should go back and find my husband.”
The soldier nodded and they started back the way they had come.
They hadn’t moved five feet when there was great screaming and a commotion behind them.
Dustin whirled around to see the vendor viciously fighting with the little monkey.
The monkey was flipping over and over on the end of the leash, biting the man when he tried to grab him.
She continued to watch in horror as the man swatted the monkey heavily on the side of the head, as the little animal fell, dazed, to the ground.
She rushed forward as the vendor picked the monkey up by the scruff of the neck, mumbling curses at the creature.
“How dare you strike that monkey!” she accused loudly. “Put him down, I say!”
The nice vendor was suddenly not so nice. “ ’Tis my beast, missy, and I shall thank ye to stay out of my affair.”
Enraged, Dustin grabbed his arm. “I shall not stay out of it, not when you go about beating tiny defenseless animals. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The monkey was beginning to come around, squirming and crying just like a human baby, and the vendor struck it again to keep it still.
Dustin shrieked. “Don’t do that!”
The man bit off a retort and turned his back on her, moving to gather his things. Dustin was furious.
“Don’t you dare ignore me,” she snarled, yanking his arm so hard that he nearly lost his balance. “I will not allow you to mistreat that monkey no matter what it has done. Give it to me.”
The man shoved her back roughly, still holding the monkey cruelly. “Go away, ye fancy bit of chit. This is none of yer affair as I warned ye before.”
Before her guards could even make a move, Dustin balled up a fist and slugged the man squarely in the jaw as well as any soldier.
The vendor sailed back, tripping over his own feet and the monkey fell from his grasp.
The men-at-arms were moving in to kill the man but Dustin beat them to it, pouncing on the fool and pounding him twice with her hard fists until he struck back and caught her in the face, sending her off him and onto the cobblestones.
By that time the soldiers were there and Dustin was pushed aside.
Dustin hopped to her feet, furious and ready for another go around, when there was suddenly a huge hand on her shoulder.
Startled, she looked up to see her husband walking past her, pushing his way through the soldiers and grabbing the vendor by his hair.
He then removed his dagger as swift as a desert wind and slit the man’s throat.
The vendor’s life slipped away in a gurgle of blood and mucus.
As fast as it had started, it was over. The people on the street who witnessed the event quickly moved away and went about their business, pretending to be busy.
Anything to keep from making eye contact with the massive knight lest they be the next victim.
But they all knew why he had done it, even Dustin.
The vendor’s mortal mistake had been to touch the knight’s woman.
Christopher wiped his dagger on his mail and sheathed it, turning to his wife as calmly as anything.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “He hit you fairly hard.”
“I am fine.” She let him turn her face to get a look at her cheekbone. Her anger was fleeing and she was beginning to feel tremendously guilty for what she had caused. “I hit him first, Christopher. He was beating the monkey and….”
“I know,” he replied, eyeing her cheek. “You are going to have a slight bruise. It’s already swollen.”
That was the extent of his comment, no lecture, no anger, and no questions. Dustin wondered if she should explain what happened anyway. He had killed for her so easily and the thought frightened her. Did she have so much power?
He let go of her chin and took her by the arm, but she suddenly balked. “The monkey!” she cried. “Where did it go?”
“Monkey?” Christopher repeated, watching his wife bound away, cooing into crevices and under tables and carts.
Dustin was determined to find the monkey.
Christopher turned to his men, demanding to know what she was talking about and they eagerly told him.
They also told him what events had started the fight, for in faith, he had only seen his wife strike the man and the return blow.
Now, with an explanation from his soldiers, he understood completely.
It was a good thing he had finished his business when he had and had gone in search of her, for there was no telling what would have happened to the man had his wife been let loose on him.
Her passion for animals were deep. She would have done anything to protect the weaker creature and the man could have very well been beaten to death by an enraged female.
As it was, his death was relatively quick and painless, a hard lesson learned for touching the Lion Claw’s wife.
Christopher continued to watch her search for the little creature until she stopped by a storm drain and he could see her talking to something inside of it.
He moved forward slowly, listening to the soft tone of her voice as she extended her hand gently.
It was virtually no time at all before a tiny little monkey with a white beard gingerly came out of the pipe and held onto one of her fingers.
She smiled and spoke to it as if it were a child, capable of understanding every word she said.
He paused a moment, his heart warming at the sight of his beautiful wife, resplendent in silk and brocade, crouching in the filthy gutters of London coaxing, of all things, a monkey from a hole.
Had he not seen it he would not have believed it, and the confirmation of what he had been feeling for nearly a week hit him full-bore. He was hopelessly in love with her.
The monkey climbed onto her hand and Dustin rose, cradling the frightened little thing against her warm cloak as she went back over to her husband.
“Look at him,” she crooned. “Isn’t he sweet?”
He raised an eyebrow. “A monkey? You recently acquired three dogs and now you need a monkey?”
She looked up at him. “I do not need him, he needs me. Just look at him, the pathetic little thing.” She kissed the monkey’s head.
He snorted. “Lips that touch monkey fur will not touch mine.”
She gave him a saucy little grin. “Is that so? And how long can you be faithful to that vow? An hour? Two?”
He shook his head reproachfully, wondering what he was going to do with the menagerie she was collecting. He chose to ignore her taunt, knowing she was correct.
“That vendor, mayhap, had a family,” he said. “If that is the case, this monkey belongs to them.”
She looked stricken but surprisingly she didn’t protest. “I am sure you are right,” she said softly, hugging the monkey closer. “Mayhap it is only right to turn the monkey back over to them.” Considering that because of her, her husband had just killed the family’s source of income.
Christopher could see her downfallen expression. As she hugged and kissed the monkey, he felt sorry for her. Turning around, he caught the attention of the nearest vendor.
“You, man,” he said sharply, then pointed to the dead peddler. “Do you know if the man had family?”
The vendor was a silversmith. His eyes widened and he scraped the ground a couple of times before answering. “Nay, sire, he was all alone,” he said. “His wife died a couple of years ago and they had no children.”
Christopher turned back to his wife, noticing that her expression had brightened considerably. He felt himself relenting.
“Very well, you may keep it,” he said reluctantly. “But it had better behave or I will spank you for any transgressions it commits.”
She laid her cheek on the top of the monkey’s head and smiled at him. “Sir George will be a perfect gentleman,” she promised.
He rolled his eyes. “Sir George? You named it after the greatest knight who ever lived? The Dragonslayer?”
Her eyes took on a warm glow. “You are the greatest knight who ever lived,” she whispered.
He gazed back at her, a smile spreading across his lips, pleased and flattered yet knowing just the same that she probably said it simply because he granted her desire.
“Well for you that you have finally come to realize it,” he said, winking at her.
She lowered her lashes coyly and he smiled broader, taking her arm and leading her back up the street from the direction they had come.