Chapter 8
Thunder!
“Thank God,” Griffith murmured.
For a moment, he’d thought a band of attackers plagued them. He mentally ripped himself from the pleasant daydreams looking at Lady Kallen brought even as he lowered the sword he’d raised.
“My, but you are a most impressive lot!” Kallen proclaimed.
She turned in a circle, her eyes gazing up.
“One thunderclap and you all hold swords high to ward it off.
Now that is an event I should like to witness.
‘Twould make a grand story, the merry men of Mangeron fighting off thunderbolts from the sky. Those merciless Vikings would have nothing on you, I dare say.”
Sheepishly, the guard of men lowered their weapons and chuckled as the first pelts of rain began to sting their faces.
Though he prayed no more, Griffith offered up silent thanks that Kallen was so unworldly. She knew little of dangers on the road and how a band of men could have their way with her and still offer her up for ransom, all in a day’s work.
He also silently cursed himself for letting down his guard. Usually, he was in tune with the elements of nature and his surroundings. He would force himself to pay strict attention for the rest of their sojourn.
The rain soon doused their fire, pouring down through tree limbs that offered little protection.
“Wish we were back at Lord Percival’s, where ‘twas dry and full of good cheer,” Rodger said, and several of the men nodded their heads in agreement.
“Who is Lord Percival?” Kallen asked.
“A nobleman another day’s ride from our position,” Rodger answered. “We celebrated St. Crispin’s Day at his castle on our journey to the convent.”
Griffith continued. “Your uncle Crispin is named for the saint of the same name. The twenty-fifth of each October is his feast day, full of good food and merriment.”
Kallen frowned. “I’ve never celebrated in such a manner.
The nuns only recognized three holy days, that of Easter, Christmas, and All Saint’s Day, on the first of November.
But Savina told me I would adore feasts.
She used to tell me of St. Swithin’s Day and St. Catherine’s Day, but never did she mention St. Crispin’s Day. ”
“My lord?” called Rodger. “Surely Lady Kallen would enjoy All Hallow’s Eve tomorrow. We should be near Lord Percival’s by then.”
Griffith considered it. He had accepted the hospitality of Lord Percival on their way toward the nunnery, joining in with Percival’s tenants in making merry. Dare he overstep his bounds and call again as they returned to Mangeron?
Then he beheld Kallen’s eager face, glowing in anticipation despite the droplets of rain cascading down it, and he decided they would stop.
“’Tis only right to allow Lady Kallen to witness All Hallow’s Eve in the proper atmosphere,” he declared.
The men cheered and their spirits lifted, despite the constant downpour.
“I can’t wait to meet this wonderful Lord Percival and celebrate such a day,” Kallen told him as he helped her bed down for the night. Griffith arranged several blankets on the ground and placed several more atop her.
“You won’t stay totally dry, but I hope you are warm. As soon as the rain ceases, we will rebuild the fire,” he told her.
Her brow creased. “I know I shall have trouble falling asleep, trying to picture it all in my mind.”
“Nevertheless, sleep is what you need. Close your eyes, my lady. I must go stand watch.”
She sat up. “Do all the men take turns at watch?”
Griffith nodded. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
Kallen shrugged. “No reason. Only I suppose I should also take my turn. They must be terribly tired after missing out on their rest.”
Her solemn expression was the only thing that kept Griffith from laughing at her words.
Keeping his own face grave, he said, “I thank you for your kind offer, my lady, but I do not think you are as skilled in weaponry as my men. Who knows when a wild animal might crash through the camp and need to be slaughtered?”
Her eyes grew large, and a fearful expression filled them.
“No, I do not think I would be of much help in such a situation.” She thought a moment.
“Still, if you are lonesome for company and would like to pass the time in conversation, simply wake me, my lord. I would be happy to share this duty with you.”
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I shall let you know if I have need of your services. But for now, go to sleep.”
Griffith moved away from where she lay, touched by her kind offer and generous spirit. The words tugged gently at his heart.
He was glad now he’d agreed they would stop at Lord Percival’s castle. He would enjoy watching Lady Kallen experience her first All Hallow’s Eve.
The next morning broke cold and damp, but at least the rain had cleared. Griffith stretched and stood, happy to see the fire roaring once again. His stomach gurgled noisily as he went to warm himself before they broke camp.
Rodger handed him a mug of ale and a hard crust of bread. Griffith tugged on it with his teeth and chewed patiently.
“Mayhap we can replenish a few of our stores at Lord Percival’s,” Rodger commented. “Fresh bread would be most welcome.”
He nodded as his eyes searched the camp, making sure all was well as the men prepared to leave.
But where was Kallen?
“She’s gone down to the stream,” Rodger said, reading his thoughts. “Wanted to wash her face and comb her hair.”
“I shall check on her. See that we are ready to disembark when I return.”
Griffith made his way to the clear stream he’d drunk from the night before. As he came through the trees, he saw Kallen as she knelt before it, dipping her hands into the water and bringing it to her face.
He stood there a moment, drinking her in. Her clothes were a bit rumpled, but the wrinkles would shake out as they rode. Her hair was a tangled mess, though. Griffith watched as she tried running a comb through the snarls.
“Good day, my lady.”
“Sir Griffith! You came quiet as the fog.”
“A good soldier learns to tread softly around his enemies.”
Kallen cocked her head and studied him. “And would I be your enemy?” she asked in jest.
“Nay, my lady, but those knots in your hair might be your own worst enemy.”
She ran a hand through her locks self-consciously. “’Tis snarled indeed,” she agreed. “In the past Savina helped me make myself presentable.”
Kallen attempted to move the comb through her hair once again, but it stuck midway through the stroke. She eyed Griffith. “Would you please help me, my lord? ‘Tis easy to comb when dry, but I fear the rain has caused it to become hopelessly entangled.”
“Then allow me. We’ll have you ready and on the road in no time.”
Kallen came to her feet and offered her back to him. Griffith patiently worked the comb through the silken tresses, mentally swearing at himself.
Why had he offered to help her in such a womanly endeavor?
The feel of her soft locks against his callused hands brought a chill down his spine.
As he worked through the tangles, he was very aware of Kallen’s nearness.
The faint scent of roses still clung to her skin and hair, despite the hard rains of last night.
Her nape called out to his lips, and he fought the temptation to brush them against it.
He steeled himself from the strong emotions she stirred within him and concentrated until he completed his task and the silken hair hung freely down her back to her waist.
Griffith placed the comb into her hands. “There now. You are much more presentable. Lord Percival won’t know what struck him when he meets you.” He kept his tone light despite the quick beating of his heart.
Kallen turned. “Are you sure we will not impose upon him? Surely, his wife would have a say in what guests reside under her roof.”
Griffith wondered again at her odd notions. Crispin might consult Deva about something so trivial, but most men would never seek a woman’s permission in such matters. Kallen had much to learn about the outside world.
“Lord Percival will be delighted by our company. He and Crispin know each other well. It will be perfectly all right. We will be most welcome.”
Her gray eyes locked upon his. “Then if you say so, I shall accept it as truth.”
“Come. Let us ride to his castle.”
As they returned to the others, Kallen said, “Speaking of riding, I would like to try and ride that mare you brought along for me.”
Griffith faced her in surprise. “Why now? In truth, it is not a wise decision, my lady. You have no experience in controlling a horse. I would not see you injured before you reach Mangeron.”
She sighed. “No, really, ‘tis all right, my lord. I’ve spoken to Carrie about it, so put your mind at ease.”
Griffith laughed aloud. “You’ve spoken to Carrie? And she told you she would not throw you or frighten you in any way?”
Kallen’s eyes shone with a bit of mischief. “Let us say that we have come to an understanding. Please. This is something I would like to try and do. If I am unsuccessful, I will admit defeat and ride with you again.”
He shrugged. “If you really find it necessary, my lady.”
“Oh, I do.” Her eyes gleamed.
“Then your wish shall be granted.”
It was only after Griffith gave Kallen some quick instructions and they’d ridden several miles did he remember something.
He had never told her the mare’s name.
Yet she’d known it somehow.