Chapter 15
Kallen awoke with a start. Her hands flew out to steady herself from a swaying motion.
“’Tis on horseback you are, my lady,” a reassuring voice murmured in her ear.
She took a deep breath as she relaxed back into Griffith, whose arms enfolded her. She nodded to let him know she was all right.
“You fell asleep,” he told her. “Almost three hours now. I should be grateful you do not snore. ‘Twould put Satan in a mood most foul.”
Kallen laughed. “I did not know that sleep was possible atop a horse. All these bumps in the road should make it impossible.”
“I fear you were overtired after ministering all night to Cuthbert and Simmons.”
She glanced up at Griffith. “Then you should be slumbering as well, my lord. You tended the wounded alongside me.”
He smiled down at her. “A soldier has less need of rest than a convent-bred lady. We are trained to get by on as little as possible.”
“You are telling me that men are made of stronger stuff than women, my lord?” she said indignantly.
Griffith laughed. “Nay, lady, I am one man who realizes that the core of many a woman is as the steel of a sword. Females might possess less physical strength than males, but their hearts and minds are sturdy beyond measure.”
“You sound as if you have experienced this strength.”
Griffith nodded. “My mother is one such woman. She appears fragile, but she rules our castle as a king. Especially since my father’s illness.”
Kallen caught the wistfulness in his voice. “I did not know your father to be ill. I am surprised you would leave him to fetch me back to Mangeron.”
He cracked several knuckles before speaking.
“A horse kicked Father in the head nigh on three years ago.
‘Twas touch and go for weeks. Finally, the healer said he would live, but he has never been the same. He simply lies abed, never speaking, never recognizing a soul. He is sentenced to a living death.”
Her heart went out to him, knowing he already suffered from his wife and babe’s death.
“Mother stays with him many hours each day. She reads to him. She tells him of the affairs of the castle.” Griffith sighed. “But we all know he will never be whole again.”
His grip tightened about her waist. “Mother rose to the occasion. She is the true liege lord of Sommerset now. She’d always advised Father on various matters, but she controls all decisions regarding the castle and our people.
“I assist her, of course, though she has little need of my counsel. As of late, I haven’t been of much help to her.” Griffith bent, his lips resting against her ear. “But I think things will change soon for the better.”
A shiver of pleasure ran through Kallen at his touch. “And what of your sister, Deva? Is she a lady with this steel core?”
He chuckled. “Deva is just as strong-willed as Mother, but she appears even more helpless. I swear by the Virgin that she has Crispin wrapped about her tiniest finger, and the fool has not an inkling of it.”
Kallen smiled. “The women in your family sound quite to my liking.”
Griffith stared at her a long moment. “And I know you would be to theirs,” he said softly.
“Up ahead!”
She faced forward to seeing Sir Rodger riding back to their party. He reined in his horse next to Satan.
“A castle to our right. Shall we stop?” Sir Rodger asked.
“Yes. If I’m not mistaken, ‘tis Lord Bethune’s estate. The stop should take no more than a quarter-hour of our time.” Griffith signaled the guard to halt.
As the horses’ hoofbeats ceased, Griffith addressed the group. “We shall go just inside this castle’s gates for protection since our numbers are fewer. I will arrange for help to be sent back to the wounded as quickly as possible.”
He looked to Rodger. “You shall be in charge while I’m away. Lady Kallen’s safety is of utmost importance.”
They continued on, approaching the castle’s gates within a short spell. Griffith called out to the gatekeeper, who granted them permission to enter. The party rode into the outer bailey and dismounted, stretching their limbs.
“Stay with the guard at all times, my lady,” Griffith cautioned her.
Kallen saw the grave expression on his face. She understood how worried he must be, especially with four knights missing from their group. She’d heard the nuns’ talk of how dangerous the roads were and knew he’d much on his mind.
“Do not worry, my lord. I shan’t stray.”
Griffith rode off once he received her reassurance, his aura one of rich purple. Kallen glowed with pride at the leadership and confidence reflected in the bands about him.
“Your trip has been a pleasant one so far, my lady?”
Kallen glanced over at Sir Rodger. “I would say ‘tis the best I’ve ever had. Of course, ‘tis the only journey I have made in my life. Ask me again years down the line, Sir Rodger. Mayhap my answer shall differ.”
“You look forward to meeting your relatives at Mangeron?”
Kallen turned and faced him. “Yes. I suppose I should be apprehensive, but I fear ‘tis excitement inside me at getting to know them.”
She chatted with several of the men over the next half-hour until Griffith appeared again.
“I have assurances of aid being sent back to our men. Lord Bethune is familiar with the area in which we left them. If there are no objections, we shall continue.”
Griffith reached a hand down to Kallen and pulled her up into the saddle in front of him. As his arms went around her waist, he whispered to her, “Even a few minutes away from you was too long.”
Kallen sensed the heat burning on her cheeks and lowered her head, afraid to have any of the men see her blush. Still, she rested a hand on one of Griffith’s and gave it a squeeze to indicate her pleasure in his words.
The party continued on, the melancholy from before now lifted, the men relieved by the promise that those left behind would be cared for.
As the light began to wane, Griffith called a halt to the day’s journey.
Camp was set up, a fire built, water retrieved, and three rabbits caught for their supper.
Kallen was glad they still had some of Lady Percival’s bread and cheese although she would have enjoyed some of the sweetened nuts and honeyed eggs from the feast even more.
They sat about the fire, the conversation turning toward home since they were but a few days away now. She asked the men about their families and what they did at Mangeron as they ate, and it became a very pleasant hour’s respite.
Once the group cleaned up, Griffith set up the guard duty.
Kallen lay down on a pallet and found sleep hard to come by.
She was still tired from the long night before and found her mind returning to those events.
Her nerves became unsettled. What if another wild boar appeared?
What if the highwaymen she’d heard tell of frequented this area?
What if they saw the fire and made their way here?
She tried to dispel such foolish notions.
Men with great fighting skills surrounded her, their one job but to protect her.
Griffith had told her these knights would give their lives for her if needed.
The thought should comfort her, but instead she worried even more. When sleep came, it was restless.
Kallen awoke, wondering if the shift of guards had disturbed her. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and saw the camp was quiet. Her eyes fell over the men lying peacefully around the campfire, their auras hovering over them even at rest.
She glanced out and saw two of their number awake, pacing back and forth in the dark, their auras nestled about them against the black of night.
Kallen started to lie down again when a flash of color caught her eye. She sat as still as she could and gazed into the distance. Far beyond the guards, she saw shimmering colors—and they were coming stealthily toward them.
Her heart caught in her throat, and she froze for a moment. She must awaken the others. Their very lives might depend upon it.
Kallen lay down and turned to her side. Griffith was close by, his chest rising and falling as he slept. She gently touched his arm.
Immediately, he sat up, a dagger in his hand. The sheer suddenness of his movement frightened her.
“My lady?” he whispered. “Is something wrong?”
Kallen nodded. She clutched his wrist. “There are men out there, far past the guards.”
Griffith frowned. “You saw them? Heard them?”
Kallen’s grip tightened on his wrist. “Please, do not doubt me on this.” She swallowed. “Trust me. They are there. I know it.”
His eyes clouded a moment. Kallen saw him glance over her shoulder and peer into the dark even as he wrestled with questions. Then he turned back to her.
“How many are there?”
Kallen glanced over her shoulder. Though she could not see the actual men in the darkness, their auras stood out brightly to her. Kallen turned back to Griffith. “I see six in that direction, but there could be more.” She looked in other directions and gasped, counting quickly. “At least ten more.”
Griffith handed her his baselard. “You may need this.”
Kallen took the dagger that only last night she’d used to cauterize the injured men’s wounds.
“Move next to the base of that tree. Keep your back against it. Stay with Rodger. If we are somehow separated, tell him to meet up at Walmouth Woods.”
“Walmouth Woods,” she echoed.
Without a sound, Griffith came to a crouch and began to awaken the sleeping guard surrounding them.
It amazed Kallen how ready each man came to, clutching weapons that lay by his side.
She wrapped her cloak about her tightly, her pulse hammering, her mouth dry as she crawled over to the oak tree Griffith had indicated.
“Now!” Griffith hissed in a whisper, and the men ran in several directions, their weapons gripped in their hands. Kallen realized Griffith had taken time to instruct them on even the smallest of detail. She thanked Blessed Mary for his faith in her.
Her lips moved in a silent prayer to the Virgin as the men dispersed. She prayed for all their safety, but most of all, she prayed that Griffith would return to her.
Alive.