Chapter Eight #2
That sounded very much like an unemotional, upstanding English knight again, as if he’d realized that he had let his guard down for a brief moment. Even so, Juliandra had caught a glimpse of what lay below the surface, that mixture of knightly honor and a man’s natural emotion.
She found him increasingly fascinating.
“But you now command a bastion in Wales,” she said. “How is that protecting England?”
“I’m the one that is supposed to be asking the questions, remember?”
She fought off a grin, embarrassed. “You have only asked me a couple,” she said. “What else do you wish to know?”
He turned his head in her direction and she could see the glittering of his eyes through the slits in the helm’s faceplate.
“When I think of something, I will ask you,” he said. “Meanwhile, no more chatter. Get back behind me until we enter the village.”
Juliandra nodded, reining her horse back until she fell in behind him.
There was less than an hour to go on the trip, so she settled back, satisfied for the moment with the conversation they’d had so far.
She’d learned more about him than he had about the Welsh, but Juliandra was pleased about it.
In a brief conversation, she’d come to learn a little about the fine knight who was in command of Wybren.
And she liked what she’d heard.
*
The village of Pool was a fairly large town nestled in the mid-Marches on the border between England and Wales. The party from Wybren entered from the north, along an avenue called Old Salop Road, and it dumped them into the end of a long, very busy avenue.
The Silver Fish.
That was the first sign they came to, a two-storied establishment that had black smoke belching out of its rear yard.
There was a river that ran through the town, right next to this stretch of road, and the smell of cooking fish was heavy.
But the people coming in and out of the business were looking at Kevin and his men as if the devil himself had just made an appearance, so Juliandra pushed to the front where Kevin and Bannon were in conversation about how to proceed.
“Please, my lords,” she said. “I fear that it will only bring trouble if you take the entire escort through town. It should only be just a few men, so as not to attract too much attention. Already, you are frightening people.”
She had a point; people were scattering. Kevin and Bannon looked at her.
“How far is your father’s shop?” Kevin asked.
She pointed down the street. “There is a town square with a common well,” she said. “My father’s shop is on the square.”
“Very well,” he said, turning to Bannon. “You take the escort back to the road and find someplace to conceal them. Tell Cal to accompany me.”
Bannon nodded, heading back to the men and quietly issuing orders.
Immediately, the escort turned about and headed back out onto the road.
As this was being accomplished, Kevin dismounted his horse and removed his belt and scabbard.
As Juliandra watched curiously, he removed as much as he had to in order to remove his tunic, which he tucked into his saddlebag.
Wisely, he was concealing the sapphire dragon of de Lara so he wouldn’t make himself a target.
The belt, the helm, and the scabbard went back on again just as Cal came riding up.
“Where are we going?” Cal asked eagerly. “Looks as if we have the entire village already on the run.”
There was something gleeful in the way he said it and Kevin shot him a quelling look.
“We are going to the lady’s father’s shop,” he said steadily. “Remove your tunic. The villagers are already spooked and I do not wish to exacerbate the situation.”
Cal made an unhappy face but dutifully removed a few things so that he could pull off his tunic. With the escort moving out to the road to wait under Bannon’s command, Kevin and Juliandra proceeded into the village with Cal bringing up the rear.
For being a town in the wilds of Wales, Pool had more than its share of businesses.
There were bakers, market stalls, fish mongers, butchers, and more, and by the time they reached the town center with its big well and even larger trough of fresh water for the villagers to use, most of the businesses were merchants.
There was even an artist displaying his colorful paintings on wood panels in front of his shop.
Juliandra led them straight to a two-storied wattle and daub building, whitewashed with big, wooden crossbeams. Carved above the door was a name – Garreg – and nothing else.
Evidently, it didn’t need anything else, for it was the largest building on the square and when Juliandra opened the door, it was full of customers.
Juliandra charged in and Kevin followed, leaving Cal outside to watch the door. The shop was so packed with items that it was difficult to move without bumping into something. With Kevin’s size, he was having a difficult time trying to keep pace with Juliandra.
A few of her father’s servants called out to her as she made her way inside, greeting her, and she waved to them quickly before disappearing into a back chamber.
Kevin was right behind her, nearly plowing into the back of her because she had come to a sudden halt just inside the door.
A small man with long, gray hair tied at the back of his head greeted her amiably, but when he saw Kevin, he visibly recoiled.
“Do not be afraid, Kymbal,” Juliandra said. “This is simply my escort, Sir Kevin. Papa is… well, he has business elsewhere at the moment, so you must take good care of the store for now.”
The old man was still looking fearfully between Kevin and Juliandra. “Business?” he repeated. “What business? I did not know of this.”
He spoke in Welsh. Since Kevin had grown up on the Marches, he understood the language, but Juliandra didn’t know that. She answered in English.
“It came up swiftly,” she said, looking at Kevin. “This is Kymbal ap Rhos. He has tended the accounting for this store for two generations, for my father and his father before him. I think he will be around long after I am dead because he does not seem to age.”
She was smiling as she said it, a clever move, because she’d meant to put the old man at ease. It worked. Kymbal tore his fearful gaze from Kevin, looking at Juliandra with humor in his expression.
“Silly girl,” he said in English, but the warmth in his eyes quickly faded. “Your father was supposed to come here a few days ago because his men had brought items from France. He was to inspect them before we sold them. Have you come to look them over?”
Juliandra pondered that question for a moment. There was no telling when Kevin was going to release her father, or let her out of Wybren for that matter, so she needed to take care of as much of her father’s business as she could while she was here. Without asking Kevin’s approval, she nodded.
“Aye,” she said. “Show me.”
Kymbal headed into the yard behind the shop and she followed without a glance to Kevin.
The area behind the shop was open, with a big yew tree in the middle, and it was heavily secured with a wooden fence and Gethin’s personal guards.
As Juliandra emerged into the yard, the soldiers were startled to see Kevin behind her, who was heavily armed.
Swords began to come out, including Kevin’s, and Juliandra threw up her hands.
“Nay!” she cried to her father’s men. “Put your weapons away. This knight is my escort. He has not come to wreak havoc.”
Kevin was standing in the doorway, his enormous broadsword out and at the ready.
There were six of Gethin’s men, prepared to protect the goods that were in the yard beneath a large oiled piece of canvas, as Juliandra waved her hands furiously and tried to avoid a bloodbath.
She demanded that her father’s men sheathe their swords, and they did…
but very slowly. Kevin held his until the very last man had put his weapon away.
Then, and only then, did he sheathe his broadsword.
But he didn’t move from the door.
As Kevin kept watch of Gethin’s hired men, and the hired men kept watch of Kevin, Juliandra began the inspection of the goods that had come from France. She knew that the men with weapons were posturing suspiciously around her, but she was more interested in the contents of the seven large trunks.
Truth be told, if she wanted to escape, she could have – she could have let her father’s men attack Kevin while she ran away, but that wouldn’t do her father any good. As much as she wanted to get away, she had to behave herself if she was to obtain her father’s freedom.
Sadly, an escape was out, but somehow, there was more to not wanting to escape than simply holding to a bargain with an English knight. It was Kevin himself that might have been holding her back.
Might.
Perhaps she simply didn’t want the man to think badly of her, or perhaps she might have liked talking to him.
At the moment, she wasn’t entirely certain.
But she couldn’t dwell on it. She began pulling items out of the trunks as Kymbal gathered his vellum and ink, preparing to take inventory.
Three of the trunks were fabric – all kinds of fabric, while the fourth trunk contained neatly stacked baskets of things like combs, ribbons, thread, and the like.
The fifth and sixth trunks contained dresses that were already made – loosely basted, to be finished by the woman who would purchase the garment and refined to her figure.
The premade garments weren’t unusual in larger cities, but they were quite a novelty on the Marches. For Juliandra, they were a godsend because it meant she could have something to wear without having to go to the trouble of making dresses herself.
Juliandra spent a great deal of time going through every single garment, and there were twenty-seven of them.
She finally settled on a total of seven, setting them aside while she hunted for thread to match so she could finish them herself.
She also gathered up other necessities, including hose, ribbons, combs, soap, and the oils she so dearly loved.
The last trunk that had been brought from France contained soaps, oils, and perfumes, and she had her pick of the latest.
The collection of items and the inspection of her father’s latest shipment went on through the morning.
By that time, the tension had died down between Kevin and Gethin’s men, and Kevin simply stood by the rear door, watching Juliandra as she wandered in and out of the shop, both checking inventory and gathering what she needed.
In truth, he couldn’t seem to watch anything else.
Kevin hadn’t been around Juliandra enough to have time to simply observe the woman.
Other than watching her sing when she first appeared at Wybren, he hadn’t had time to really study her, but now he was.
He watched her fluid movements and her beautiful hands, which she used frequently to gesture with when she spoke.
He was trying not to stare, but it was difficult.
The more he watched her, the more intrigued he became.
Intrigued with the woman he had lied to.
He had to keep reminding himself of that, a reminder not to fall victim to his weakness of finding her attractive.
He had to admit that she was someone who easily had his attention, in all aspects, and it didn’t take him long to realize his heart was racing again.
It probably had been ever since he took her off her horse and brought her into the shop.
A simple merchant’s daughter.
But his reaction to her wasn’t so simple – and it was growing worse, which left him feeling unbalanced, and Bannon’s words kept coming back to him –
What’s going to happen when she finds out you lied to her about her father?
He didn’t have an answer.
As the morning dragged on, he was growing restless, becoming anxious to leave.
Juliandra was discussing the contents of the new trunks with Kymbal, directing him to put them on sale.
Meanwhile, she’d had one of the soldiers bring out a smaller trunk to pack her new items in, and she was doing so carefully when Kevin came up behind her.
“Are you ready to depart?” he asked quietly.
She glanced up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun overhead. “I am,” she said. “I believe I have everything I need.”
“Good,” he said. “Seal up the trunk and I shall have Cal carry it for you.”
Juliandra did as she was told. As Kevin bent over it to pick it up, she turned to Kymbal.
“I am not entirely certain when my father will be returning,” she said, trying not to side-eye Kevin. “Soon, I hope, but meanwhile, you must keep close watch on everything. If my father has not returned by the beginning of the next month, you have my permission to pay his men their usual wages.”
Kymbal looked at her curiously. “You will not do it?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. Finally, she had to look at Kevin, unsure what to tell the old man and looking for some suggestions. “I… that is to say, I am…”
“The lady and her father are my guests at the moment,” Kevin said without hesitation.
“In the interest of peace on the Marches, we have established an alliance and they are my guests, which means they will not have the time to come to Pool frequently. If you need to send word to the lady or her father, send it to Wybren Castle. Meanwhile, you are expected to maintain the integrity of your lord’s business, as you have so aptly been doing all these years.
The lady seems to have a good deal of trust in you, so do not break that bond. ”
Both Juliandra and Kymbal were looking at Kevin in both shock and surprise – Juliandra with shock that Kevin should actually tell Kymbal what was going on, however cleverly he had phrased it, and Kymbal with surprise to know that his liege was allied with a Saesneg.
As far as he knew, Gethin had no love for the Saesneg.
But then again, Gethin ap Garreg didn’t much have love for anything except his daughter.
With that in mind, the old man simply nodded.
“Thank you, my lord,” he said. “I will.”
Kevin didn’t want to give the man the opportunity to ask more questions, so he simply turned away, heaving Juliandra’s trunk onto one broad shoulder. Taking the lady by the wrist, he led her out of the shop where another knight and the horses awaited.
As Kymbal watched them ride off down the street, there were many questions in his sharp, old mind, but questions that would evidently have to wait for answers.
It was a curious situation, indeed.