Chapter Eight #6
Alfie looked at Cassius, who wasn’t quite finished with his meal. “Have you fought many Scots?”
Cassius was still chewing his bread. “I have.”
“Did they beg for mercy? Did you cut their heads off and watch their blood spill out?”
Cassius looked at him in surprise before breaking down into laughter. “I think I like you, King Alfie,” he said. “You have an impressive bloodlust.”
By this time, Atlas and the others had settled in, all of them taking a seat on the benches, reaching for ale and bread. All except Atlas; he reached for Alfie, pulling his little brother off the table.
“Sit here with me,” he said. “You are not to sit on the table like a little animal. Do you see any of these men sitting on the table?”
Alfie looked at the table, seemingly embarrassed by behavior he didn’t even know was questionable. The men were eating, not paying much attention to him, but his gaze moved between Markus and Cassius. Big, powerful knights he was enamored with. Suddenly, he scrambled up onto the tabletop again.
“I want to sit with Sir Knight,” he said.
Atlas made a swipe for him, but he was already to the other side of the table, pushing himself in between Ambra and Markus.
Ambra didn’t take kindly to be separated from Markus and angrily, she hit Alfie on the side of the head with her open, sticky palm.
Unhappy with the fish sauce on his head, Alfie gave Ambra a big shove and over she went, falling onto the floor.
Screams erupted.
As Atlas leapt up to intervene between his battling siblings, Amabella came bolting out of the kitchens. She had trenchers in her hands but when she saw her daughter on the ground with Alfie standing over her, she quickly set the trenchers down and went straight to her misbehaving children.
“I permit you to eat with our guests and this is how you behave?” she said, incredulous, as she picked Ambra off the ground. “Shame on both of you for your terrible manners. You have made me ashamed of you.”
She had Alfie in one hand and Ambra in the other now, and Ambra began to cry. Unsympathetic, Amabella hauled her children off as Atlas stood there, looking after them with great concern.
“It was Alfie’s fault,” he called after his mother. “Ama, did you hear me?”
Amabella was already out of the hall, through the servant’s door. Sheepishly, Atlas turned to the men at the table.
“I am sorry,” he said, slowly reclaiming his seat. “My father never allowed them into the hall, so I do not think they know how to behave.”
No one seemed particularly disturbed by it and Patrick waved him off. “I have had several young children myself,” he said. “Six, in fact, with four boys born fairly close together. There was a time when my hall was a chaotic circus, so you needn’t apologize for your siblings. They will learn.”
Atlas nodded, still embarrassed, suddenly realizing that his mother had left two full trenchers at the end of the table. He quickly retrieved them, giving one to Damien and the other to Anson. As he sent a servant for more food, Markus stood up.
“Has anyone seen to our sleeping accommodations this night?” he asked the table.
The knights looked at each other, eventually shaking their heads, and Markus put up a hand. “I will,” he said. “Finish your food. I shall return.”
“Where are you going?” Patrick asked.
Markus pointed towards the servant’s entrance. “To find Lady de Sauque and ask her where she intends to house us,” he said. “I also want to make sure she does not punish her children too severely. They caused no trouble.”
Markus had always been the peacemaker in the family, so his inclination towards Lady de Sauque and her children was not unusual. Patrick waved him off and Markus headed for the servant’s door, following Amabella’s path from the hall.
But it was an excuse, all of it.
Markus simply wanted to see Amabella again because he clearly had some manner of odd infatuation with her.
This proud, beautiful woman with a husband who treated her so poorly.
The fact that Roget had expected her to serve an entire hall of men spoke of incredible disrespect, and yet she projected a quiet dignity.
No matter how poorly Roget had treated her, it seemed to Markus as if the man hadn’t been able to break her. At least, not on the surface.
He was starting to see that more clearly now.
It intrigued him more than he could control.
The kitchens were open for the most part and the servant’s entrance had taken him out into the kitchen yard.
Knowing Amabella would have taken the children into the keep, he headed for the big, stone bastion, silhouetted against the starry sky.
He could see a light emitting from the windows on the second level, so he entered the dimly lit foyer, with only a single torch to light the fairly large space.
And he could hear crying.
Taking the torch, he went into the larger solar on this level and found several tapers, lighting a fat one that was wedged into an iron candle holder. He replaced the torch in its iron sconce before heading up the stairs to the next level with his single taper.
He could hear Ambra’s angry and hysterical voice.
The level with Amabella’s solar on it had two more chambers, smaller ones, and the door to one of them was open. That was where the commotion was coming from. Markus stuck his head into the doorway in time to see Amabella pulling a sleeping shift over Ambra’s head.
“I don’t want to go to bed!” Ambra wailed. “Ama, I want to go back to the hall! My fish!”
“You may not go back to the hall,” Amabella said steadily. “Not tonight. It is time for sleep. Alfie, you will get into bed and stay there. I do not want to see your face until morning.”
Alfie was standing next to the bed, frowning and unhappy, until he caught sight of Markus in the doorway. Then, he bolted.
“Sir Knight!”
He ran to Markus, grabbing the man by the leg as if his savior from motherly punishment had finally arrived. Markus reached down to disengage the boy from his limb.
“Your mother gave you a command,” he said. “All good kings must obey their mothers. Get into bed.”
Alfie’s face fell. “But… but you came.”
Markus took the boy by the arm and led him back over to the bed. “Aye, I came,” he said. “But I came to speak to your mother. Meanwhile, I expect you to be a good king and do as she says.”
Alfie did, but it was begrudgingly. He climbed onto the bed, looking at Markus most longingly.
“But will you be here on the morrow when I wake up?” he asked.
Markus nodded. “I will.”
“You are not leaving?”
“Not tomorrow.”
That seemed to give Alfie the push he needed to close his eyes. Amabella lifted Ambra into the bed, pulling the coverlet over her two youngest children.
“Now,” she said. “No more fighting, no more talking. I want you both to go to sleep right away so that you can see Sir Markus in the morning.”
Alfie was already trying to go to sleep, but Ambra was still sniffling, hiccupping on occasion, as she rubbed her red eyes. She looked up at Markus with such sadness that he had to refrain from comforting the girl.
“Did you like my fish?” she sniffled.
He smiled faintly. “It was delicious.”
“And my yellow eggs?”
“They were also delicious.”
“I-I will eat them all so you cannot have any more.”
He was about to reply to the contrary when he realized that wasn’t what she wanted. She had said the same thing to him earlier when he pretended to weep. Suspecting that was what she wanted from him, he put his hand over his face and made a crying sound.
That brought instant sunshine. Ambra’s frown turned to a smile in an instant and she laughed.
“No more for you!” she said.
That brought an exaggerated and pathetic howl from Markus, much to the delight of both Ambra and Alfie, who opened his eyes to watch Markus weep. They lay there and laughed at his antics until he removed his hand from his face and pointed to them both.
“Your mother said for you to go to sleep,” he said. “Obey her.”
The children were still grinning, but they nodded. Alfie closed his eyes tightly again. Ambra, however, kept hers open, smiling adoringly at her newfound friend. Suspecting they wouldn’t go to sleep until he left, Markus departed the chamber with Amabella right behind him.
“Quiet, now,” she whispered as she stood at the door. “May the saints and angels watch over you while you sleep, my little ones.”
With that, she carefully shut the door, turning to Markus with an appreciative smile.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “When Ambra weeps like that, sometimes it can take an hour to calm her. You did it quite swiftly.”
Markus shrugged. “I have two younger sisters of my own,” he said. “I know how little girls can be.”
“You are very good with children. Are you not married? You have none of your own?”
He shook his head. “I am not married, and I have no children of my own,” he said. “But I hope to be, and have, someday.”
Amabella laughed softly. “I am quite shocked that some maiden has not snared you for her own,” she said. “When she does, she will be quite fortunate to have you as the father of her children. It seems you have many talents, not only limited to warfare.”
There she was, praising him again. He felt as if he very much wanted to accept her praise because it was coming from someone he was coming to both respect and admire, but he was positive there was nothing personal about her praise. She was simply being kind.
It wasn’t as if she were interested in him.
She couldn’t be.
… couldn’t she?
He cleared his throat softly.
“I suppose I am a man of many facets,” he said. “As for marriage, I’ve simply not yet had the time. Moreover, I am due to assume an appointed position with King Edward soon and marriage does not fit into that plan, at least not now.”
She grew serious. “Oh?” she said. “You will be leaving Berwick?”