Chapter Eight
The next morning dawned surprisingly bright. Every morning that didn’t show signs of rain was a blessing, and Kress knew they needed to take advantage of it.
He was up early, preparing his horse for the day’s journey ahead. The beast was eighteen years old and he’d had him since he’d been newly knighted. His name was Samson, after the biblical character but also after one of Charlemagne’s paladins, true and noble knights from Charlemagne’s stable.
Samson wasn’t very happy in the mornings, usually, so Kress found himself dodging the greatly swishing tail as he cleaned out the animal’s hooves.
Every once in a while, a big head would turn in his direction, teeth bared, and Kress would hold up a finger and scold the horse.
He swore it could understand him because it would turn away, ignoring him until the next time.
As the sun began to rise in the east, Achilles and Bric entered the livery to prepare their horses for the day. Yawning, scratching, and coughing, they moved into the recesses of the stable. Bric went straight to his white animal, but Achilles paused by Kress.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked, his voice hoarse and groggy.
Kress finished cleaning out a hoof and let it drop as he stood up. “Not as well as I should have,” he said. Then, he turned to look at Achilles and noting the big, black left eye that was nearly swollen shut, he began to laugh. “Did that female do that to you?”
Achilles frowned and turned away, moving for his horse in the next stall. “Shut your mouth,” he grumbled. “It is not as it appears.”
“It appears as if she beat the stuffing out of you.”
Amused, Kress followed Achilles as he entered the stall and went to remove the heavy blanket from his horse. “It was a lucky strike,” Achilles insisted. “It was not as if she had the better of me.”
By this time, Bric had come over to the stall, cleaning out a horse brush and listening to the conversation. He and Kress looked at each other, grinning and shaking their heads as if completely doubtful of Achilles’ story.
“I saw the fight, Achilles,” Bric said. “I hate to tell you, lad, but that woman licked you.”
Achilles looked at him, scowling. “She did not,” he said. “The trouble was… well, she is a woman. I cannot hit a woman, no matter how angry I am.”
“You grabbed her by the throat,” Kress pointed out, laughing even as he said it. “I saw you do it. You grabbed her and she smashed a pitcher over your head.”
Achilles’ manhood was in danger of being challenged. “That is where the black eye came from,” he said defensively. “It was the pitcher and nothing more. I thought she would surrender when I grabbed her around the neck, but she did not. As it turns out, she likes that kind of thing, the sick wench.”
Both Kress and Bric were far gone with laughter at that point.
“Did you not learn anything about her from Summerlin?” Kress said.
“The woman trained at Blackchurch. She is a trained fighter, Achilles. Summerlin told us not to challenge her because she would fight back. Now you’ve made us all targets.
She hates you, so she is going to hate us all. ”
Bric shook his head. “She plays rough,” he said. “The pitcher to the head was a brutal move. It was also impressive.”
Achilles looked both frustrated and wounded. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it shows she’ll do anything to win. She fights like an animal, and that is concerning if you are an opponent.”
“Is she strong?” Kress wanted to know. “The two of you wrestled around for quite some time.”
Achilles shrugged and turned back to his horse. “She is a woman,” he said. “How strong can she be? Besides… I did not want to hurt her. I have a feeling The Marshal would not like it if I did, considering he sent her to watch over Lady Cadelyn.”
The humor faded somewhat. “There is truth in that,” Kress agreed. “Lady Susanna makes a perfect bodyguard because no one would suspect her. She is an instrument of William Marshal and something we should not damage, so my best advice is to stay away from her, Achilles.”
Achilles waved a hand at him. “Do not worry,” he assured him. “I intend to.”
Bric cocked a blond eyebrow in a mischievous gesture. “She is rather pretty,” he said. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”
Achilles made a face at him. “How can I look at her face when I’m fighting her?” he asked. But then, he looked at Kress. “Speaking of pretty, Lady Cadelyn is quite lovely, but I do not suppose you have noticed that, either.”
Kress’ good humor fled and he turned back to his horse. “Of course I have noticed,” he said. “You saw me notice in Lynn when we first saw her and had no idea who she was. Unfortunately, she is attracted to me, as well. It has made for some… difficult conversations.”
Now, the focus was shifting to Kress as Achilles and Bric turned in his direction. “What conversations?” Achilles wanted to know. “Kress, she’s intended for another. You haven’t…?”
Kress looked at him sharply. “God, no,” he said. “I have been very plain about it. She is a beautiful woman, but that is all. She is betrothed to a powerful earl and I would not shame myself by cavorting with her, in any way. And she is unhappy about that.”
“Unhappy?” Bric repeated. “She wants to… she wants you to…?”
Kress shrugged irritably. “Wishful thinking, I suppose,” he said. “She is young and idealistic. Romance holds great attraction to her, yet she is facing a marriage to a man she does not know. She is concerned over it.”
Brick and Achilles exchanged glances. “Kress,” Bric ventured hesitantly. “Do you want me to escort her? I will take your place next to her. It might make it… easier. If the woman is attracted to you, and you to her, you should not be in such close proximity to each other.”
Kress held his ground. “Do you not trust me?”
Bric waved him off. “Of course, I do,” he said. “But I thought it would be easier if I took your place, ’tis all.”
Kress’ gaze lingered on the man. In truth, it was an offer any of them would have made, and rightly so. It wasn’t made out of haste or mistrust, and if Kress had any sense at all, he would accept.
But he couldn’t manage to do it.
“I appreciate your concern,” he said, turning back to his horse. “But I am fully capable of continuing my duty. If I need your assistance, I shall ask.”
Bric didn’t say anything more, but he passed a long glance at Achilles as he turned for his horse.
They were both thinking the same thing – they’d seen Kress flirt with the woman in Lynn when he didn’t know who she was.
He was clearly attracted to her, and working so closely with her was probably not the most desirable of situations, especially when he could not have her.
But unless they wanted to insult Kress, they would simply have to let the man do as he wished.
“As you wish,” Bric said. “We just don’t want to see you get into any trouble.”
Kress knew that but he struggled not to become insulted by the suggestion. “No trouble,” he reassured them. “We shall be to Chester in a few days and all of this shall be forgotten. And then I can find a woman who is not so encumbered with a betrothal.”
He meant it as a joke, smiling weakly, and the others smiled in return, but his smile was a hollow gesture. He was being a little too dismissive about it, which was a dead giveaway that, perhaps, there was something more going on.
For Kress’ sake, Bric and Achilles hoped not.