Epilogue #3
“I know,” he said. “I have not asked anyone about him. I am afraid to.”
Rose turned to him. Like everyone else at Questing, she knew how William had been dealing with Kieran’s illness. Or not dealing with it, as it were. He couldn’t bring himself to. Gently, she put a hand on his shoulder.
“He is waiting for you,” she said softly. “He knows you have returned.”
William’s eye filled with tears and his composure took a hit. “In his chamber?” he asked hoarsely. “Or in his new crypt in the chapel?”
Rose could see his tears coming and it choked her up to see how emotional he was. “In his chamber,” she said. “My mother is with him. That is why she is not here to greet James.”
William blinked, tears dripping down his face. “Rosie… how is he?”
“Failing.”
William inhaled deeply, steadying himself, as he handed Isabella over to Rose. “Then I shall not make him wait.”
With that, he crossed the bailey and entered the cool, dark keep of Castle Questing.
There were only a few servants around as he took the mural stairs up to the Hage living quarters, and he found that he was almost running as he made his way to Kieran’s chamber at the end of the corridor.
The more he moved, the more urgent his desire to see his old friend.
One last time.
He didn’t even knock. Slowly, he pushed the door open, his gaze immediately going to the big bed where he knew his dearest friend was laying.
Stepping into the chamber, he saw Jemma sitting beside her husband, but she stood up quickly when she saw who it was.
William approached the bed, his focus on his dying friend.
“Thank God,” Jemma said. “Ye’ve returned. And James?”
William came around the bed to where she was standing. “He is here,” he said. “My son has come home.”
Jemma closed her eyes briefly, a gesture of thanks and relief.
“Then I shall go and see him,” she said.
But she paused, looking William in the face.
“He hasna eaten in a week, William, and he hasna spoken in a few days. I believe he was waiting for ye tae return. He was holding out as long as he could.”
William nodded, but he was fighting off a roar of tears.
He sat down in the seat vacated by Jemma as she kissed him on the temple and quietly left the chamber.
His attention was on Kieran as the man lay there, drawn and pasty and sleeping heavily.
His chest lifted slowly, and unsteadily, the only sign that the man was alive.
Leaning forward, William took Kieran’s big hand in his.
“I have returned,” he whispered tightly.
“I have brought James with me. I do not know how much you have been told, but he does not remember anything, Kieran. The damage to his head, the blow we thought killed him, erased most of his memory. Scott and Troy and Patrick and I have spent the past month trying to help him remember who he was, but the truth is that he has been living as a hero to the Welsh. Can you imagine? A de Wolfe being a hero to the Welsh?”
Kieran twitched, and William was positive the man heard him.
He squeezed his friend’s big hand. “He has married, too,” he continued.
“A lovely lass, a great-granddaughter of a Welsh king. It seems that two of my children have married Welsh royalty, which means I can no longer fight Edward’s wars in Wales.
I would be fighting my own kin. But, then again, I married a Scots and still do battle in Scotland, so I suppose I am traitor to my family all the way around. ”
He meant it as a joke, hoping it would stir Kieran, and he was rewarded when the man moved a bit more, as if he were trying to open his eyes He hadn’t really expected the man to awaken for him. Hell, he hadn’t expected the man to even be alive upon his return, but he was.
And perhaps, it was all William’s fault.
William had expressed such distress over Kieran’s health, repeatedly telling the man that he couldn’t do without him, and as he looked at the dying man on the bed, it occurred to him that Kieran might be hanging on because of William’s complaints.
It further occurred to William just how selfish he had been.
Oh, he’d fully admitted his selfishness, but seeing Kieran lying pale and sickly on the bed, he realized just how horrible he’d been about the entire situation.
William didn’t want Kieran to die, and by sheer willpower alone, Kieran was still alive.
For William, the man had fought off the jaws of death.
But as William looked at his gallant friend, he remembered something Kieran had told him –
I am tired, William. I am tired of being ill, of not being able to function as a normal man.
I spend my days in this bed, remembering when I was young and strong and healthy.
I do not like my family seeing me this way.
It is no way for a knight’s life to end.
I had always imagined that I would die a glorious death in battle, but it seems as if I am to die an old man in my bed.
But even now, because of William’s selfishness, Kieran wouldn’t let go.
William knew it was time to make him let go.
“Kieran,” he said, the tears beginning to fall again.
“I know you waited for me to return, and return I have. James has come home, and he is happy and whole. Rosie is also happy. There is no trouble with her having seen James. She understands that he is not the same man. And I am happy because my son has returned. As much as I love you and as much as I am going to miss you, it is okay for you to go now. It is okay for you to leave me because I will be okay in the end. I will do everything I promised; I shall make sure our grandsons remember you, and I shall make sure your memory is honored. We shall all remember your greatness, for generations to come. You no longer need to remain here. Be young and strong again, my friend. Be free.”
After that, he couldn’t say anything more. He was too overcome by emotion, but he was also overcome by a sense of peace. Peace that this was the right thing for Kieran, and for them all.
It was time.
William remained with Kieran, holding the man’s hand, until his breathing grew weaker, and more erratic.
When that time came, he sent a servant for Jemma, but he continued to sit there, holding the man’s hand and whispering of past adventures, of the battles they’d fought together, and of the humorous events of their youth.
When Kieran finally breathed his last, it was with William’s voice in his ear, speaking of a particular battle where the fighting had been so vicious, an enemy blade sliced through the garters holding up the mail on Kieran’s left leg.
When the mail trousers slid down, so did part of his breeches, leaving his naked leg and bare arse exposed.
The last thing Kieran ever heard was William’s soft laughter in his ear.
And that was the way he wanted it.
* THE END *