Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T here was a massive tournament field about a half mile west of the Tower of London, a great arena where knights plied their bloody games. On this busy day, banners of competing houses snapped in the brisk wind as hundreds of people milled about, preparing for the spectacle that was soon to take place.

It was a dusty bowl of a field surrounded by great banks of lists, fairly well built. There was a royal box on the east side of the field, center line, and other boxes for the dozens of nobles that would view the games. The guide was not yet planted in the center of the field because the mêlée would come first and they needed the field clear. Marshals and pages ran to and fro across the field, preparing it, memorizing it, getting ready for the first round of the day. A surgeon and his helpers set up on the south side of the arena.

The tournament field was close to Hollyhock but Davyss brought his full complement of gear, tents and accessories to the arena. He wasn’t going to go home to rest in between bouts, instead choosing to have his tents and colors raised high for all to see. He was announcing the de Winters as loudly as he could, one of the most prominent families in the country and a name to be proud of. He was there to win.

Lady Katharine, surprisingly, had chosen to attend the games. When Davyss and his men returned from the tournament field after setting up, they were met at the door by Katharine, Lucy and Devereux.

Lady Katharine was dressed in her traditional black garments with traditional black wimple, while Lucy was dressed in a lovely red surcoat. Devereux looked stunning in the de Winter colors of black, gray and red. Lady Katharine had a surcoat and shift especially made for Devereux for this day and the results were spectacular. She looked delicious.

It was an effect not lost on Davyss. While Hugh escorted his mother to the carriage and Philip helped Lucy, Davyss went straight for his wife. He kissed her hands sweetly before kissing her cheeks.

“You are breathtaking,” he told her sincerely. “I shall be the envy of every man at the tournament.”

Devereux blushed prettily. “And I shall be the envy of every woman at the tournament,” she grinned impishly. “What a pair we make.”

He kissed her, leading her towards the carriage. “The happiest pair in all of London, I would wager.”

She smiled as he led her up to the elegant de Winter carriage and helped her inside. Her surcoat had quite a train on it and he tucked it into the carriage after her. With a wink to his wife, he shut the door and slapped his hand on the side of the carriage. It was the driver’s signal to depart. Davyss mounted his new Belgian charger, a great black beast with hairy fetlocks, and cantered after the carriage as it rumbled down the avenue.

After some morning fog, the day had bloomed surprisingly clear. The sky was brilliant blue with great cotton puff clouds skittering across it in the brisk breeze. Although there was some humidity, it wasn’t overbearing. Lucy had only to been to one tournament and her excitement was palpable; she kept pointing and jabbering about the knights, their ladies, and anything else that captured her interest. She wanted to eat custard and drink sweet wine. It was like being accompanied by a five year old with all of the chatter going on and Devereux just sat back and smiled. She was lovely and funny.

Lady Katharine, however, did not think so, and Lucy soon realized that the elder de Winter woman was growing annoyed with the constant conversation. About the time they reached Davyss’ encampment, Lucy had shut her mouth completely.

There were three tents raised; a large one and two smaller ones. The tents were made from very fine brocade in an elaborate black and gray pattern. On the door flap of the larger tent was a giant red de Winter dragon. There were soldiers guarding the area and several squires running about, young men that Devereux had seen traveling with her husband’s army. When the carriage came to a halt, Davyss suddenly appeared to help the women from the cab.

Lady Katharine exited first and went straight into Hugh’s capable hands. While he led his mother away, Lucy was handed over to Philip and Devereux was brought out last. Davyss took her straight into the large tent.

It was well appointed and comfortable inside. Devereux was properly awed by the opulence of the de Winters, as she always was. There was apparently no end to their money. Davyss sat her down on a small stool while he called two of the squires to help him dress.

His armor was on a stand in a corner of the tent and the two squires went about dressing him. Clad in linen breeches, a padded linen tunic and his heavy boots, he put his arms up as the squires placed the mail coat.

“The mêlée is first,” he told his wife. “That should go for the rest of morning. After the nooning break, the joust will commence.”

She cocked her head. “I have heard that the mêlée is to be outlawed. Is this true?”

He shrugged. “The Church is attempting to outlaw it. In years past, the mêlée could be quite violent. Men would be captured and held for ransom, much like real combat, and people tend to get carried away with the spirit of the thing. I have seen a few men fall to serious injury all in the name of sport.”

“But what of the mêlée today?” she wanted to know. “Will it be violent as well?”

He shook his head. “Men are not so voracious these days. It will be mock combat and nothing more.” He looked at her and shrugged in disappointment. “They pin flags on our backs, put clubs in our hands, and expect us to call it honorable combat.”

She thought on that a moment and, satisfied, moved on. “Do you know who you are competing against in the joust?” she asked as the squires pulled the mail hood over his head.

He shook his head and his shoulders, settling the heavy chain mail on his body. “Aye,” he grunted as the mail chaffed. “My first card is against Sir Paris de Norville, who rides for the Earl of Northumberland.”

“Do you know him?”

Davyss grinned. “I have known de Norville for many years,” he replied. “A more arrogant man you will never meet. I look forward to bragging rights when I plant him on his arse.”

“Do you not like him, then?”

Davyss laughed. “I like him a great deal,” he looked up and winked at her. “But I am still going to send him to the ground.”

Devereux smiled at her husband, who seemed truly devilish about the entire thing. She continued to watch as his squires suited him with other pieces of armor, including massively armored gloves. Davyss also had the advantage of having pieces of plate armor, which most knights did not have. These were newer measures of protection, expensive and heavy pieces of metal that covered his chest and arms. Over that, the squires draped him with his tunic bearing the de Winter coat of arms.

Davyss was a very large man, made larger by the mail and armor he wore. It was a truly intimidating sight. When he was properly and completely dressed, he turned to his wife with a smile.

“Are you ready for an amazing spectacle, my lady?” he asked.

She stood up from the stool, suppressing a smile at his enthusiasm. “I suppose,” she sighed dramatically. “But if you end up with bumps or cuts or your brains hanging out, I will not lift a finger to help you. Not one finger.”

He scowled good-naturedly. “You cruel woman,” he scolded. “’Tis your duty to tend me if I am injured.”

She shook her head firmly. “Not when you naughty little boys run about and try to hurt each other. I have no sympathy for men who will not grow up.”

He laughed at her, taking her hand and kissing it sweetly. Their eyes met and she melted into him, smiling broadly and kissing his cheek.

“Please be careful today,” she whispered as she kissed him again. “I should like my husband whole and healthy tonight.”

He nodded. “I will do my very best,” he promised. “I shall endeavor to make you proud.”

Her smile faded as she gazed up into his spectacular face. “You already make me proud.”

Davyss’ smile faded as he met her gaze, feeling the heat from the gray orbs. He held her hands tightly and kissed her mouth gently, his eyes closed as he savored the feel and smell of her. It was enough to set his heart to racing.

“I love you, Lady de Winter.”

“And I love you.”

With a final kiss, he took her out into the sunshine of the new day.

*

Devereux, Lucy and Lady Katharine had a box right next to the royal box, which contained none other than Simon de Montfort. When Devereux arrived, Lady Katharine was seated next to Simon in his box, involved in a serious conversation with him from the expression on both of their faces. Devereux took a good, long look at the man who now ruled the country before taking her seat next to Lucy. He looked old and careworn, this man who had taken on the burden of an entire country in an effort to effect change.

There were people everywhere, piling into the lists and cheering wildly for their favorite competitor. Lucy already had her hands full with custard and spun sugar, eating to her heart’s content as she pointed out different knights to Devereux. They had no idea who the men represented with their fancy shields and tunics, but it was quite a sight to see with all of the colors. Devereux was caught up in the pageantry of it all, feeling the excitement build, until Lucy suddenly stiffened beside her.

She thought it rather odd that Lucy suddenly stopped talking and looked as if she had seen a ghost. She was looking over to her left where the general population was sitting. Devereux’s brow furrowed with curiosity as she tried to follow Lucy’s gaze to see what had the woman so rattled. She finally nudged her.

“What is the matter?” she asked. “Why do you look so?”

Lucy, realizing she was being watched, abruptly faced forward. “Nothing is the matter,” she said unconvincingly. “I do believe the mêlée is about to start. Do you not want some refreshment before it begins?”

Devereux wasn’t stupid; something had Lucy shaken and she peered around the woman’s backside to see what she could see. All she saw were people everywhere; men, women and children all trying to get a good seat for the coming spectacle. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. She was about to turn away when a young women suddenly approached the edge of the box and began waving her hands frantically.

“Lucy!” the woman called. “Yoo hoo; Luuuuuuuucy !”

Lucy looked frozen with fear. Devereux, at a loss with the woman’s behavior, nudged her again.

“That woman is trying to gain your attention,” she pointed it out as if an obviously screaming woman wasn’t enough. “Do you know her?”

Lucy looked sickened as she turned in the direction of the woman. Weakly, she smiled and waved, but that wasn’t enough; suddenly, the woman was ducking under the barrier of the box. But she wasn’t alone; as she stepped up onto the benches, she pulled two little girls along with her.

Devereux watched with curiosity until one of the little girls jumped up onto the steps in a very independent gesture and turned in Devereux’s direction. Staring back at her were Davyss’ features lodged within a tiny, beautiful face. And there was a second child who looked just like her. The longer Devereux stared at the girls, the more she gradually came to realize who they were.

The battering ram hit. The hammer dropped. Devereux suddenly couldn’t breathe as she gazed at those two small little faces. Dear God , she thought to herself, it cannot be . But there was no mistake as the dark-haired, hazel-eyed twins drew near. As Devereux reeled with shock and Lucy tried not to panic, the woman came upon the pale pair with the lovely little girls in tow. She bent down and kissed Lucy on the cheek.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” the woman exclaimed. “I saw the de Winter tents and knew you would be around here somewhere. ’Tis good to see you again.”

Lucy wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow her up. “’Tis… ’tis good to see you too,” she gulped. “Are… are you here with your father?”

The woman nodded. “He is competing in the joust,” she said. “He says he will leave the mêlée to the younger men like Davyss and Hugh.”

Lucy didn’t dare look at Devereux as the woman suddenly fixed on her and smiled brightly.

“My lady,” she greeted with a small curtsy. “I am the Lady Avarine du Bois. These are my daughters, the Lady Isabella and the Lady Angela.”

Devereux stared up at the woman as if she had just spoken to her in tongues. It was difficult to process anything at the moment as she struggled to deal with her surprise. Avarine was a pretty woman with blue eyes and dark hair, and seemed genuinely friendly. As Devereux looked at her, all she could see was her husband making love to the woman and producing twins. It was selfish and foolish, she knew, but that was all she could see at the moment. Her sweet husband all over this woman’s body, touching her and kissing her… it was enough to set her head to spinning.

“My lady,” Devereux forced herself to respond.

But that was as far as she went. Avarine smiled and planted herself next to Lucy as Davyss’ twins sat on the bench in front of Devereux and began pulling each other’s hair. Avarine stilled the fighting hands as she turned to Lucy.

“It has been such a long time since we last saw one another,” she said to Lucy. “I have seen Hugh and Philip, over by the tents. Is Davyss here?”

Lucy was quickly growing horrified. “Aye,” she said in a strangled voice. Then she pointed in Devereux’s direction. “This is….”

But she was too late; Avarine didn’t hear the muddled start of the introduction to Davyss’ wife and she spoke over Lucy’s words. She was clearly wrapped up in her own world, her own excitement.

“He has not seen his girls since they were very small,” Avarine said. “Do you not think he will be surprised? They have grown so much. They are so lovely and smart now, a perfect tribute to their father. I know he will be proud of them.”

Lucy thought she might faint, trying to hush the woman discreetly but Avarine was oblivious. She rattled on.

“My father hopes to speak to Davyss again regarding marriage,” she was gazing out over the arena, her blue-eyed gaze searching eagerly for the powerful form of Davyss de Winter. “I know that Davyss does not want to marry, but that was years ago. Perhaps he has changed his mind. It is only right that we marry, after all; we already have two children together. We would make a lovely family, don’t you think? And I think a son next year in the image of his father would be wonderful.”

Lucy grabbed the woman by the wrist, so hard that she clawed into Avarine’s tender flesh. But she didn’t still the woman’s rattling mouth before Devereux shot to her feet and bolted from the box. Lucy let go of Avarine and began to run after her.

“Devereux!” she cried, tripping over a bench and falling to her knees. “Devereux, wait!”

Devereux heard Lucy’s cries but she could not respond. She was verging on complete hysteria, listening to Avarine speak of Davyss and of the children they had together. It hurt so badly that she couldn’t breathe. She was Davyss’ wife but she had miscarried his child. Avarine had two children by Davyss and wanted more. It was Davyss’ right to have more children like the beautiful twins.

Hearing the excitement in Avarine’s voice as she spoke of Davyss drove dagger after dagger into Devereux’s heart. She felt so worthless, so inadequate. She hated herself terribly at that moment.

Devereux jumped off the lists, hit the ground, and began running.

Seated in the royal box, Lady Katharine heard the shouting and turned in time to see Devereux disappear from the lists. She saw Lucy go after her but was prevented from paying closer attention by a strong hand on her arm.

“Was that Davyss’ wife?” Simon asked.

Lady Katharine nodded, looking rather concerned that the woman had just bolted off. “It is,” she replied.

“I only caught a swift glimpse of her, but she looks lovely.”

“She is,” she answered. “Davyss is very much in love with the girl. Perhaps I should go and see what the matter is.”

Simon shook his head. “No need,” he replied. “You cannot move as fast as she does and you will only hurt yourself, so it is best if you let your son handle his wife.”

Lady Katharine shot Simon a menacing glare with her faded hazel eyes. “Watch your tongue, man. I may not be able to run swiftly but I can still use a dagger quite adequately.”

Simon laughed softly. “You are still a firebrand after all of these years.”

Lady Katharine lifted an eyebrow at him. “You think so?” she slapped the hand on her arm and he removed it, still laughing. “And you are still as I remember; selfish and bold.”

Simon’s humor faded as he beheld Katharine’s angular profile. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly.

Katharine refused be lured back to the days when she and Simon believed themselves in love with one another, when she was a young maiden and only pledged to Grayson de Winter. It was a futile romance but one that had burned hot at one time.

“I will not reminisce with you,” she said flatly. “There is no need.”

Simon knew that but it was still something he lived with, something he thought on every time he saw Davyss. “Did you ever tell him, Kate?” he murmured.

“Nay.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is a de Winter. What purpose would it serve to tell him otherwise?”

Simon sighed faintly, knowing there was truth to her statement. He wouldn’t push the issue, now thirty four years old and beyond any resolution. He averted his gaze, flicking imaginary pieces of dust off his breeches. “No purpose,” he agreed quietly. “But someday, I should like him to know.”

Katharine was in no mood for Simon’s attempt at reflection. In fact, she wanted far away from the subject. “Finish what you were saying about my son and be quick about it,” she told him. “He will be competing shortly and I want to watch.”

Simon lifted his eyes, regarding the woman’s profile again. She was such a strong woman, deeply dedicated to her sons. He knew why she had never told Davyss of his true parentage but it never eased his ache. And it was for that very reason that Simon knew he must press his issue.

“Davyss was most reluctant to swear fealty to me after Lewes,” he lowered his voice. “As I said, I believe the only reason he did it was because I threatened to hold his wife hostage to ensure his good behavior. As much as I hate to move against Davyss in such ways, I still feel it is necessary.”

Katharine’s jaw ticked. “So you do not trust his word?”

Simon was careful how he replied. “I would trust Davyss with my life, as you well know. But the man’s loyalties have always been with Henry. Even though he has sworn allegiance to me, I feel there is no harm in reinforcing that oath. Since the only reason he swore to support me was because I threatened his wife, I feel it necessary to force him to honor his pledge.”

Lady Katharine sighed heavily. “Simon, if you feel the only control you have over your men is to coerce and threaten them, then you are a poor leader indeed. If you take Devereux, it will only make Davyss hatefully mad. He will kill you.”

Simon’s gaze moved over the arena, watching as the marshals began to call the combatants forward. “Nay, he will not,” he muttered. “But he will want to, make no mistake. Katharine, do you wish to see your son live to be an old man? He’ll not live much longer by Henry or Edward’s side. They are both ruthless men and willing to battle at every turn. What I offer is peace.”

“Peace?” she snapped.

“Aye, peace,” he snapped in return. “Peace for the entire country because the common man will have a say in how his country is managed. It is the only way to achieve harmony.”

Katharine held up a hand. “Spare me your logic, Simon. I am an old woman and care not for the politics of the crown. But I will say this,” she turned to the man. “If you harm Davyss or his wife, in any fashion, my wrath shall be limitless. You need not fear Davyss at all; your biggest fear shall be me. Is this in any way unclear?”

Simon gazed deep into the eyes of the women he had known the majority of his adult life. “What would Grayson say to all of this?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know what he would say; he would kill you himself before he allowed you to target one of his sons.”

Simon drew in a long, thoughtful breath. Then he leaned back in his chair, eventually chuckling.

“Still a spitfire,” he muttered.

Lady Katharine continued to eye him, even as he pretended to find interest in the combatants taking the field. She didn’t trust the man for she had known him too long; he would eventually have his way if he thought he could get away with it. When Simon started up a conversation about the last tournament he competed in, she paid little attention. There was something in his manner that was unsettling.

She didn’t like it.

*

The mêlée was about to begin. Davyss was poised with his team, comprised of his own knights, Northumberland’s men, men from Chester, York and Nottingham. There were also a few bachelor knights, men with less experience but full of heart, and they were thrilled to be included on the mighty de Winter squad. The field marshals were calling the teams onto the arena floor and just as Davyss moved forward with his men to take his position, Philip suddenly came up behind him and grabbed him by the arm.

Davyss turned to the man, speaking before Philip could bring any words forth.

“Where have you been?” he demanded. “You disappeared when the marshals were filling the match cards. What happened?”

Philip looked grim. “Lucy came to me,” he said urgently. “Drop what you are doing, man; we have problems.”

Davyss first reaction was confusion. But his second reaction was dread; Philip was not one to panic for frivolous reasons. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

Philip yanked on him even as the men around him were pouring onto the field. Hugh paused, however, standing next to his brother because Philip looked so serious. He raised his visor and peered at the big blonde knight.

“What is wrong with you?” Hugh demanded. “We are due on the field.”

Philip shook his head. “Davyss, you must come. It’s Devereux.”

Those were the magic words. Davyss was already moving, heading for the lists because that was the last place he saw his wife. “What is wrong? What happened?”

As they neared the edge of the arena, they could all see Lucy standing at the edge of the field, her hands to her mouth. As Davyss drew near, he could see that her eyes were red and there were tears on her face. Panic seized him.

“Lucy?” he reached out to grab her. “Where is Devereux? What has happened?”

Lucy was sobbing deeply. “She… she ran away.”

Davyss’ eyebrows flew up. “Ran away?” he repeated. “Where in the hell is she?”

He was starting to get frantic. Philip pulled his wife from Davyss’ iron grip because the woman was already close to swooning. She would not survive Davyss’ anger.

“We do not know,” he said in a low, swift voice. “Lucy says that Lady Avarine appeared in the list with the twins. She apparently did not know or realize who Devereux was and said many things that upset her. Devereux ran off.”

Davyss stared at Philip in complete, utter disbelief. “Avarine is here ?”

Philip nodded grimly. “With the girls,” he replied. “You will recall that she and Lucy were friends long before Avarine met you. Avarine saw Lucy in the lists and naturally went to her.”

Davyss’ gaze was wide on the man. He wasn’t angry; he looked completely devastated. “My dear God,” he finally breathed, clapping a hand to his face in incredulity. His mind was whirling with a million different thoughts, easily overwhelming him. He began to walk. “Which direction did Devereux go, Lucy?”

Lucy was walking beside her husband, struggling to keep up with the long-legged men. “I do not know,” she wept. “I saw her disappear in the direction of the food vendors but I did not see where she went after that.”

Davyss felt sick. “What… what did Avarine say to her?”

Lucy sniffled as Philip pulled her along. “She spoke of the twins,” she replied. “She said that her father was competing and he was going to speak to you again about marrying his daughter because you are the father of her children.”

Davyss rolled his eyes miserably. “And she said all of this in front of Devereux?”

“Aye,” Lucy started to weep again. “She did not know that Devereux was your wife.”

Davyss didn’t say anymore. He was afraid to. He could hear the marshals yelling for him but he ignored them, instead marching to his tents with his men in tow. He yanked open the entry to the larger tent but it was empty. Andrew and Philip checked the other two; they were empty as well. Fear welled in Davyss’ chest until he could hardly think straight.

“Where else could she go?” he asked the general question to those around him. “She is not familiar with London. Where else could she have run off to?”

Andrew was with him. “I shall go to Hollyhock and see if she has returned there.”

Davyss stopped him. “Nay,” he half-hissed, half-commanded. “I will go. You, Edmund and Philip return to the arena. I will search for my wife.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed. “But you may need help. If she is not at Hollyhock, there is no telling where she has gone and you will need help looking for her.”

Davyss knew that, but he was so shaken at the moment that it was difficult for him to settle his thoughts. “If she is not at Hollyhock, I will send you word,” he slapped the man on the shoulder as Hugh bellowed for Davyss’ mount. “Go, now. I will return when I can.”

Although Andrew wasn’t entirely certain, he did as he was told. A groom brought about Davyss’ charger and he mounted, charging from the encampments and out into the streets beyond.

*

She was standing by the river’s edge as it banked along the border of Hollyhock, watching the waters of the Thames flow gently along. Birds cried overhead and the clouds intermittently blocked out the sun. She stood there, staring at the water, wondering if she was strong enough to throw herself in simply to rid herself of the pain in her heart.

She had run the mile or so from the tournament field back to Hollyhock. It had been foolish to run away; she knew that. But she had a habit of running from situations that went beyond her control. When her emotions were raging, there was no telling how far she would run. She had tried to run when Davyss’ men first came to escort her to her wedding, she had run when Davyss and his men had gotten into the fight at the Fist and Tankard, and she had run again when the woman who bore Davyss children had come around. She was always running. Sometimes she just had to.

She could hear the distant cheers from the crowds at the tournament arena. She knew that the mêlée must be well under way and she was sure that Davyss and his men were winning. With a heavy sigh, she knew that she needed to return to the field before the mêlée ended so that Davyss would not know that she had run off again. But she could hear Avarine’s words over and over in her head, like a battering ram, pounding the meaning and pain of the situation deep into her heart. Still, she would have to reconcile herself eventually. Davyss had other children. She had given him none.

With another sigh, she turned away from the river. But there was a body directly behind her and she gasped with fright, startled to see Davyss standing a few feet away. She had never heard him approach.

Devereux gazed into his beautiful hazel eyes, looking so forlornly back at her. She didn’t know what to say, feeling flushed and startled by his appearance. She realized that Lucy must have told him what had happened and, like any good husband, he went to search for her. No matter where she went, he always found her. She opened her mouth to say something but the words wouldn’t come. The sobs, however, did.

She burst into tears and threw herself against him. Davyss wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. There were layers of mail, armor and tunics between them, but Davyss could not have felt closer to the woman than he did at that moment. His relief, his sorrow, was indescribable.

“I am so sorry,” he murmured into the top of her head. “Dear God, if I could take back everything in my life that would even remotely bring you shame, I would do it gladly. I cannot apologize enough for your shame and hurt.”

She continued to weep, painfully deep, as he rocked her gently. “I… I am sorry I ran,” she sobbed. “I just did not… I could not… what she said. She was so happy, so thrilled to have borne your children and she wants to be a family with you.”

He suddenly grasped her by the face, forcing her to look at him. The glow from the hazel eyes was powerful.

“But I do not want to be a family with her,” he shook her gently to punctuate his words. “How many times must I explain this to you, Devereux? It is you that I love and adore, children or no. The day I married you, all other women in the world ceased to exist for me. There will be times when women like Avarine speak of me, for whatever reason, and you must tell yourself that whatever they speak of is all in the past. I would never stray from you and I do not hold feelings for anyone but you. How in the world can I prove this to you? Please tell me, for I do not like seeing you in pain like this. Please help me understand what I can do to convince you that you are the only woman I will ever love.”

By the time he finished his speech, her sobs had calmed. She gazed back at him, with an occasional hiccup, wiping her cheeks and nose with the pretty red satin handkerchief she had intended to give to her husband as a favor in the joust. After several moments of digesting his words, she finally shook her head.

“I know you love me and I know you will not stray,” she whispered. “It had nothing to do with that. After what happened with our child, seeing the beautiful girls you had fathered simply made me long for our baby. I want so much to be a good wife and to provide you with children. Seeing those girls… it simply reminded me of what we had lost.”

He pursed his lips sadly, kissed her, and pulled her back into a fierce embrace. “I understand,” he answered. “But you are not to blame for the loss. It was simply God’s will. There will be more children for us; I am sure of it. You must have faith.”

“I am trying.”

“Besides… the fun is in the practice.”

It took her a moment to realize what he said and she gasped softly in feeble outrage, swatting his mailed behind. Davyss laughed low in his throat.

“I cannot feel anything with all of this armor on,” he told her.

She made a face at him. “You are a vulgar beast.”

“A vulgar beast?” he repeated, his eyebrows lifting. “Since when is a man who lusts after his wife a vulgar beast?”

She shook her head, unwilling to answer, and he grinned as he pulled her into his arms once again and kissed her. He was simply glad that her tears were easing. He buried his face in the top of her head for a moment, relishing the feel of her, so glad he had found her safe and unharmed. The woman had become his whole damn world.

“Will you promise me something?” he requested.

She nodded, head against his chest and arms around his waist. “Of course.”

“No more running off. It scares the wits from me.”

She sighed faintly. “For that, I am sorry. It seems to be my reaction when situations become overwhelming. But I promise I will not do it again.”

“If you do run off, at least run to me and not away from me.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled back to look at her. “Can we return to the field? I would like to provide you with a deliciously fattening meal before my competition this afternoon.”

She smiled unenthusiastically. “As you wish.”

With an encouraging smile, he walked her back over to where he had tethered his charger by the gates of Hollyhock. Mounting her on his charger, he vaulted on behind her, holding her close, and took the long way back to the tournament field.