Chapter Sixteen
After Annavieve left with the earl and Victor, Thomas and Adonis were the only ones left in the tent with Kevin.
Although the conversation continued to flow between the three of them, mostly discussing the upcoming mock battle and strategy, it was clear that Kevin was distracted.
He had been the moment Annavieve disappeared from his sight, which was more than concerning to his friends.
“Kevin,” Thomas finally hissed at him when he caught the man peering out of the tent for the fifth time, watching Annavieve in the distance. “A distracted knight is a dead knight.”
Kevin turned around to look at him. “What did you say?”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “I said,” he repeated deliberately, “a distracted knight is a dead knight. Isn’t that what you have always told us?”
Kevin let the tent flap go and returned to his broadsword, on which he had been rubbing a scrape out of the steel. “Aye,” he said, defensively. “What is your point?”
Thomas looked at Adonis. The blond-headed knight sighed faintly.
“You do not have to keep your guard up around us when it comes to the lady,” he said.
“But you had better get your mind back on what is to come. If you let thoughts of her distract you, someone is going to come up and knock your head off.”
Kevin rubbed at the scratch with a linen cloth and finely-ground charcoal made for such things.
“I will not be distracted on the field,” he assured them.
“You can understand that I am concerned with Victor’s behavior towards the duchess.
He has proven to me over the past few days to be unkind and unpredictable. ”
Thomas plopped down on the stool in front of him. “You are going to be angry at me for saying this, but that is none of your concern,” he stressed. “He is her husband, Kevin. He can behave how he pleases.”
Kevin refused to look at him. He rubbed furiously at the scratch before coming to an abrupt halt and sighing heavily.
“Already I know that I cannot stomach what the future will bring for me with Dorset,” he said, finally looking at his friends.
“How is it possible to love someone so much after only knowing them a short amount of time? Already I am thinking of a life with her, of children with her, and she is not even my wife. I wonder how the church will view their union – she married the man by law and by God, but it was I who consummated it. Does that not make her mine in the eyes of God?”
Adonis grunted. “It does not make her anything to you,” he said.
“But if you truly want to know, then visit the nearest priest, who will more than likely tell his superior, who will then go running for the nearest local lord, and before you realize it, you will be called before the king. Victor is beyond reproach, Kevin, but you are not. You must be extremely careful how you behave towards the woman. I thought you understood that.”
Kevin hung his head, scolded. “I do,” he muttered. “But those emotions I buried for six long years are stronger than they have ever been. It is an effort simply to breathe and not shout for joy when I think of her.”
Adonis opened his mouth to reply but he was interrupted when someone entered the tent. The three of them turned to look at Gorsedd standing just inside the opening.
Gorsedd had come to know Thomas and Adonis a bit since they had arrived the day before and they’d formed a bit of a professional bond.
With Kevin the constant companion of the duchess, Thomas and Adonis had been forced to congregate with Salisbury knights.
Acknowledging his two new friends, Gorsedd turned to Kevin.
“My lord, I have brought my son to serve you,” he said. “Would you come outside and meet him?”
Kevin had to force himself away from thoughts of Annavieve and thoughts of the mess his life was about to become. Pushing himself up from the stool he had been sitting on, with his sword still in his hand, he followed Gorsedd from the tent.
It was bright outside beneath cool blue skies as Gorsedd led him over to a young man standing several feet away. He was holding the lead of a heavy-boned, muscular horse, roan in color, and with a cropped tail. As Gorsedd approached the young man, he began the introduction.
“This is my son, Cortez de Bretagne,” he told Kevin. “He is seventeen years old and can fight as well as any seasoned knight. He will make an excellent squire for you during this tournament.”
Kevin looked the young man over; he was tall, with muscular arms, and black hair and eyes like his father. He had an intelligent, handsome look about him. The youth faced Kevin with confidence, bowing out of respect.
“My lord,” Cortez said. His voice, for his age, was already very deep. “My father and Lord William have told me of you. I am honored to assist you.”
Kevin folded his massive arms across his chest and braced his legs apart. “What have you been told about me?”
Cortez met his eye steadily. “Lord William said that you accomplished great things in the Levant, my lord,” he said.
“I… I will confess that two years ago, I tried to run away and go to the Levant. I wanted to fight for the Christian armies. But my father caught up to me and returned me home. Mayhap if I had been allowed to go, I would have seen you there.”
Kevin fought off a grin at the young man running off to seek adventure. “That is possible,” he said. “But it is just as possible that you would have gotten yourself killed. The Levant is no place for young men seeking glory.”
Cortez didn’t back down. “It was not glory I sought, my lord,” he said. “It was experience.”
It was an excellent answer. Kevin looked at Gorsedd. “He’ll do,” he replied, satisfied. Then he gestured to the horse that Cortez was holding on to. “That is a fine animal. Is it yours?”
Cortez shook his head. “It is yours, my lord,” he replied. “The duke told me to tend this horse for you. You are to ride it in the coming mass.”
Kevin took a second look at the horse. He ran his hands up and down the legs, checked the hooves, the lines of the spine, and the hind quarters. Then he looked the horse in the eye and checked his teeth and nose. He couldn’t keep the pleasure off his face.
“A worthy beast,” he said with appreciation. “He cannot be more than six or seven years of age.”
“Seven, my lord.”
Kevin reached out, petting the thick roan neck. “Does he have a name?”
“Goliath, my lord.”
Kevin grinned. “It suits him,” he said. “Make sure this horse is properly saddled. I also have a white stud with a black mane that is corralled separately from the other horses. Make sure he is fed. I will saddle him myself since he will try to take your head off if you go near him.”
“I am not afraid of him, my lord,” Cortez said.
Kevin chuckled. “Then you are the only man in England other than me who is not,” he said, eyeing the youth.
He appreciated a confident young man, well-educated and trained.
“Very well, see if you can saddle him without losing fingers. If you do not, and he is properly saddled, then you shall be rewarded.”
Cortez nodded. “Thank you, my lord.”
Kevin already liked the lad. He had the makings of an excellent knight, at least as far as his manners and attitude were concerned. “When you have finished with the horses, come find me,” he said. “I am in the armory.”
Cortez was already on the move. “I will, my lord.”
Kevin and Gorsedd watched the young man walk away with the muscular roan. After a moment, Kevin turned to Gorsedd.
“You must be proud of him,” he said. “He seems like a fine lad.”
Gorsedd nodded. “He is,” he said. “He has a younger brother just like him.”
Kevin was impressed. “Then you are a fortunate man,” he said, turning back for the armory with Gorsedd next to him. “All men hope to be as fortunate with fine sons to carry on their name.”
Gorsedd looked at him. “No sons for you, my lord?” he asked. “Are you married?”
Kevin shook his head. “I am married to my vocation,” he said, inevitably thinking of Annavieve. “I do not think I would make a very good husband right now. My service is for the duke at the moment and he is a demanding man.”
Gorsedd thought on that statement. As far as he knew, Hage had only recently come into the service of the Duke of Dorset.
Gorsedd had known the duke for eleven years.
He’d seen what de Ferrers was capable of and it was the general consensus among those who knew of the duke that he was a dangerous and fickle man.
It was true that he had a stable of excellent knights back at Ilchester Castle, and Victor paid them very well, but he was a harsh and demanding taskmaster.
Men served Victor de Ferrers because they had to, not because they liked him. The duke also had a penchant for slender young men so the addition of a wife was most confusing as well as concerning. Gorsedd had to admit he felt sorry for the woman. Still, he was careful in how he spoke about Dorset.
“He is indeed,” Gorsedd replied after a moment. “I have been acquainted with the man for many years and I have seen evidence of his demands. But he also rewards his faithful men well.”
Kevin detected a hint of foreboding in that statement. It wasn’t so much the words as the tone. As they reached the armory tent, he paused and turned to Gorsedd.
“You said you have known him for years,” he said, his voice quiet. “Be honest and tell me what you know of him. I swear upon my life that the information will go no further.”
Gorsedd looked at the man, reluctant to say anything at all, but he didn’t want to insult the man. He was asking him a legitimate question, knight to knight, but Gorsedd was struggling with it. Men who spoke of Dorset tended not to live long.
“You must understand that I’ve never served the man,” he said, lowering his voice. “Anything I tell you would not be from experience. It would be hearsay.”
“I understand.”