Heart of a Knight (A Medieval Romance Novella) Read online

  “I’m capable. The injury I have is old, and will not prevent me from working hard.”

  She brought her fingers to her mouth, pinching at her bottom lip.

  “He might’ve scared the guild master and his son,” the servant said. “But he’s still lame. I will likely have to continue doing the extra chores, and then with another mouth to feed…”

  Geoffrey allowed a bland mask to descend upon his countenance, concealing his annoyance. It was obvious that the servant still had reservations about him. But her reaction toward him wasn’t unusual. Still, it was unwise to display any sort of temper in front of the widow.

  Karina dropped her hand to her side, coming to her decision. “What are you called, Goodman?”

  “Geoffrey de Servian,” he replied. He didn’t know why, but a rush of relief washed over him. She was going to hire him after all.

  “You’re from Servian,” she murmured. “’Twould seem that you are as far away from home as I am.” She offered a small smile. “Your town is situated in the north, not that far from where I was born.”

  Geoffrey smiled, but didn’t offer any other comment. Most people were ignorant of his place of birth, and he was a little surprised that she knew of it. He supposed that he should have just given another place to identify himself. God knew that he had traveled through countless other towns and villages, and he could have chosen the names of any of those places. But it didn’t matter. He would only be in Treville for a short while. Once he was gone, he would soon be forgotten.

  “The stable is at the back of the house,” the widow continued. “We only have two pack horses, but they need caring for. You may go over there to get acquainted with them. After you’re done, come inside, and Alays will show you where you will sleep —”

  “Ma dame,” the servant placed a hand on Karina’s sleeve, tugging at it. “Might I have a word with you?”

  Karina frowned, but she allowed Alays to take her to the side. The servant waved her hands in the air, speaking rapidly but in low tones. No doubt he was at the center of their discussion. Unable to prevent it, the old anger climbed into his chest. The servant couldn’t deny that he had the ability to intimidate the widow’s tormentors, yet she still had issues with his physical impairment. He saw that she was trying her best to stop the widow from hiring him.

  Finally Karina nodded to what the servant had to say and walked back to him.

  “It seems that I’ve made a mistake,” she said, an apologetic expression on her pretty face. “You will sleep in the stable with the horses.” Her gaze settled on his nose as she studiously avoided looking into his eyes. “It will likely be easier for you to care for the animals if you’re nearby.”

  “I understand,” he said.

  She must have heard something in his voice because her alluring eyes flew to his. All at once, he felt the breath catch in his throat as an energetic jolt ran through him, blasting him in its intensity. But she glanced away, and Geoffrey began to wonder if he had imagined the sensation.

  “I’ll have Alays bring out a tunic to replace the one you have,” her eyes dropped to the tattered shirt that he wore. The ends of his sleeves were frayed and dirty. “We’ll discuss the terms of your employment later. In the meantime, make sure that my horses are ready, and in front of the house by first light.”

  Chapter 2

  Karina waited as Geoffrey brought the horses over, although she tried her best to remain aloof. What was wrong with her? This was not how the mistress of a household was supposed to act. She was fully aware of his disability, yet she couldn’t help but admire his fine, muscular physique — a physique that was impossible to hide even underneath the shapeless tunic. Unable to help it, a flush bloomed on her cheeks. How was it possible that she, a grown woman, was acting like a shy country maiden who had just come upon an attractive stranger?

  “Thank you, Geoffrey,” she said, taking the reins from his hands. Their fingers brushed accidentally, and she startled at the touch. She looked quickly at Geoffrey, but his attention was focused on steadying the horse. Was he not aware of the shock of energy that passed between them?

  Silly, she was being silly, Karina chided herself. She took a step back, suddenly conscious of how tall he was.

  Alays emerged from inside the house. She carried two sacks with her and tied them on one of the horses. “Are you ready to leave for Baltroham, ma dame?” she asked.

  “Baltroham?” Geoffrey said, interest sparking in his eyes.

  Karina gripped at the reins. “Alays is accompanying me to the king’s palace.”

  “Will you be selling your wares there?” he asked.

  “I hope to,” she said, and gestured to the sacks. “I plan to speak with the royal chandler, and perhaps convince him to buy a few dozen of my scented candles.”

  “Perhaps you would like me to accompany you?”

  She shook her head. That was a bad idea. “The distance is not too far, and the road is safe. I don’t anticipate that we should be very long.” She was about to climb on her horse when she felt his strong hands settle on her hips. With an ease that surprised her, he lifted her up on the horse. The next thing she knew, she was looking down at him from a new height. He regarded her patiently, waiting for her to continue. Grabbing the reins, she clutched them to her chest. “’Tis best that you stay here — in case Master Warin and his eldest son return.”

  “Another time, then.” Geoffrey’s lips tightened into a smile and he bowed his head slightly.

  Karina felt a rush of relief when she saw that he wasn’t going to argue with her. “Aye, another time. We best be going.”

  Then without waiting for his reply, she spurred her horse onward. She wanted and needed to get far away from him, and the uncomfortable feeling that he awakened within her breast. When she was satisfied that she covered enough distance, she slowed her horse and waited for Alays to catch up to her.

  Her attention turned to Warin again. The man would continue to harass her until her business was run to the ground. Her shoulders slumped at the thought. It wasn’t fair. When her husband had lost their guild membership, she thought that they were ruined, that all the years that they put into making candles were wasted. But somehow they managed to survive. In fact getting kicked out of the brotherhood was a blessing in disguise. And now that Aldous was dead, and she had taken over the business, she was not tied to their rules and regulations. But conversely, she knew that she was on her own.

  “You have a good heart, ma dame,” Alays said, cutting into her thoughts. “However I blame your late husband for making it so difficult for us to find a new stable master. Now we’re reduced to taking on the first man that comes to our door.”

  “Geoffrey will work out fine,” Karina said. But then she gave a cynical twist to her lips. “Still you’re right about Aldous; he’s responsible for all this. The town spurned us while he was alive, and even though he’s been dead these past five years, people still avoid us.”

  “I know,” Alays said softly. “But it wasn’t always like this, I remember.” Even though Alays was only a servant, she also felt the sting of rejection. The older woman looked off to the distance as if she recalled better times.

  Karina fell silent. It was true. When Aldous was a part of the guild, the members had received them with open arms. Admittedly living with her husband was hellish, but there were moments when things weren’t so bad, moments that she shared with her best friend Beatrice. As the visage of her good friend floated in front of her, her throat constricted, and a burning sensation filled her eyes.

  “I wish that Beatrice was still here,” she said, giving a sorrowful sigh. “She would have had much to say about the townspeople.”

  Alays made a sympathetic sound in her throat. “She died too young, that one.” Reaching over, she squeezed Karina’s arm. “Remember, she’s in a better place now.”

  She gave her servant a tremulous smile. Beatrice had died painfully while giving birth to her first child. Karina’s parent
s were dead too. Indeed, everyone significant in her life was gone except for Alays.

  “Don’t think too much about the past, ma dame,” Alays said. “All will be well, and your candles will sell more. It won’t be too long —”

  “Aye, I know. It won’t be too long before King Edward discovers my candles.” She smiled bravely. “You’ve told me this many times, Alays. I just wish that Master Warin would leave me alone.”

  The guild master, she knew, had more wealth than anyone in town and lived like a lord. His authority was as large as his girth. And now he would use his weight to make her life difficult…

  “Perhaps you can change your profession, ma dame,” Alays suggested, tilting her face toward her. “If you no longer make candles, Master Warin will likely stop harassing you. I know you have good sense and knowledge on how to run a proper business. And I would think ‘twould be easier for you to succeed in some other craft.”

  “Nay,” she said, smiling affectionately at Alays’ naivety. “’Tis impossible to move into another profession. It takes more than ten years of apprenticeship under a master craftsman before a person is even ready to set up a shop. I’m twenty-five years old, and a woman — both barriers that will prevent me from finding success in any new venture.”

  “Oh,” Alays’ face fell. “I thought that I had found the perfect solution to our troubles,” she sighed. “’Tis so much easier to be born a man,” she observed.

  Karina laughed, although a slight bitter edge entered into it. “You’re right about that. But our mothers have endured before us, and we will endure now.” She reached over and absently ran a hand down the horse’s mane. “But I expect to do more than just persist, Alays. And to do that, I need figure out a way to succeed in spite of Aldous and Master Warin.”

  “I know that you will find a way, ma dame,” Alays gave an encouraging smile. “Hopefully our luck will turn, and the royal chandler will see us today.”

  “Hopefully,” Karina agreed. The horses continued to plod along on the dirt road. Just beyond the trees, she knew that Baltroham Palace stood there atop a rocky hill. Placing the reins on her lap, she ran her sweaty palms along the skirt of her gown. “If lady fortune favors us today, the royal chandler will meet with us, and will buy all the candles that we’ve brought.”

  Chapter 3

  Alays handed Geoffrey a container of grains. The chickens in the yard were well aware that it was feeding time, and they clustered around them, squawking and fighting for space beneath their feet.

  “There is so much to do. I cannot afford to keep gallivanting over to the palace,” she complained. “I have no time to feed —”

  Geoffrey put up his hand, stopping her from continuing. “I will feed the chickens, and do all the things you asked of me, Alays. Have no fear.”

  She blew out a breath of relief. “Ma dame was right in taking you on,” she said finally. “I must admit that my life is much easier with you here.”

  Geoffrey smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Do you think that the royal chandler will see ma dame this time?” he asked casually.

  Alays glanced quickly over at her mistress who was waiting by the horses. But even though Karina was out of earshot, the older woman lowered her voice.

  “If you want to know the truth, ‘tis unlikely the chandler will see her. This is the second time this month that we’ve been to the palace. But you cannot deter ma dame from trying,” she shrugged.

  He nodded, although he barely heard her answer. Once again Karina had refused his escort to Baltroham, and the disappointment bore down on him. He knew that he wasn’t prepared to meet Pyers just yet, but he still had an overwhelming desire to see the bastard, even if it was only for a moment. Still, the blacksmith had just finished forging his sword, and was now working on his chain mail. Geoffrey only had to wait a little while longer before he could confront his foe. Helping the two women on their horses, he watched with some frustration as they went to the front of the house, and rode out of sight.

  With a sigh, he turned to his chores. There was much work to do before Karina returned home. He fully admitted that because of his impairment, it took him longer to finish his work. But no matter how long it took, he always accomplished each task, and neither Karina nor Alays had reason to complain.

  Scooping up a handful of dried corn kernels from his container, he tossed the grains to the ground. The chickens screeched in excitement, clucking and flapping their wings in their race to peck at the offerings.

  “One would think that Alays had neglected to feed you for days,” he said, chuckling as he watched the hungry cluster.

  After tossing several more handfuls of kernels to the greedy birds, he hobbled to the stable. As soon as he stepped into the building, he took in a deep breath, the pleasant smell of hay filling his senses. Grabbing a pitch fork that leaned against the wall, he went to work, removing the old and dirty straw from the two stalls, and then replacing it with fresh, sweet-smelling hay. He had grown used to working alone in the stable. In the end, no one bothered him in the backyard, and he preferred it that way.

  But being alone this much allowed him too much time to think about the past. In the years that he served as a squire, he had witnessed great knights fall. But those knights fell not because of battle, but because they survived it. The injured warriors who still had functioning limbs lived as half-men, wandering the towns and cities. They begged for alms, or sought the mercy of the common people, for they were no longer of any use to their liege lords. At that time, Geoffrey pitied them. But never did he dream that he would become just as broken.

  He topped off the oats and water in the corresponding wooden buckets, assured that the horses would have their needs met once his mistress came back. He placed his hands behind his head, satisfied that his work was completed. Almost out of habit, he twisted his back from side to side in an attempt to loosen the tension gathered at his hip. Then he slowly made his way out of the stable.

  Geoffrey glanced up and saw that the sun hung lower in the sky. Karina had left at dawn, and whether or not the royal candlemaker bought her goods, she would be returning soon. Reaching up, he stretched again, letting out a full yawn as he walked to the front of the house. He was looking forward to several tankards of ale at the tavern. Unfortunately he couldn’t leave until Karina arrived, so he decided to wait inside the house.

  When he stepped indoors, the soothing smell of lavender and honey struck him, immediately reminding him of Karina. He supposed that it was a blessing that he didn’t see his mistress much, except she rarely strayed from his thoughts. He had an insatiable, almost obsessive curiosity about her. She was fascinating, and was nothing like any woman that he had ever known. And with someone as alluring as the young widow, he wondered why she had never remarried. In the short time that he was here, he observed that a couple of suitors made regular visits to Karina’s home, even though the rest of the townspeople seemed to avoid her. But, he reminded himself, this was none of his concern.

  Just when he was about to close the door behind him, he noticed an over-turned basket on the ground. He bent down and picked up the dried lavender, placing them back into the basket. From the little that he knew of Karina, she was not one to be untidy.

  Geoffrey stood still, scanning the small workspace. Even though he saw that no one was around, there was something not right here.

  Off to the side sat a table and bench. The table was neatly arranged with little baskets filled with finished candles and more dried lavender. A large barrel of unmelted beeswax was pushed to one side of the wall; meanwhile additional straw baskets lined the opposite side. And across the length of her workspace, there was a rope where recently dipped candles hung to dry.

  A small, barely audible scraping noise sounded near the barrel, making his head turn. Slowly he moved to the table, pausing to pick up and observe one thing after another. And just when he was about to pass the area where he detected the sound, he reached in and gra
bbed the culprit who hid there.

  A wild, panicked yelp echoed in the common room.

  Unexpectedly, Geoffrey pulled out a young boy.

  “Let me go!” the boy cried, his feet dangling in the air.

  “What are you doing here?” Geoffrey said, staring fixedly at the boy. His hair was matted, and grew past his ears. It was parted at the side, allowing only one blue eye to show through the curtain of hair. He wore a dirt encrusted tunic which was a size too small for him. But there was something else about the boy — a toughness that Geoffrey recognized. And for some reason, this boy reminded him too much of himself.

  “I said, let me go!” the boy said, twisting and squirming, trying to get out of Geoffrey’s grasp. “I did nothing wrong!”

  “I didn’t ask you whether you did anything wrong.” He gave the boy a shake. “Why are you here?” Two candles fell out from behind him.

  Horror filled the boy’s visage as he stared down at the candles on the ground. He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the terror was gone. “I came for some candles,” he said.

  Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. “I can see that.”

  “We needed lighting, and I thought I’d filch some candles.”

  “A likely story, but I don’t believe you. I find it hard to believe that your mum sent you all this way to steal only two beeswax candles.”

  A surprised look crossed the boy’s face, but he recovered quickly. “Well, ‘tis the truth,” he said, jutting out his chin.

  “If ‘tis the truth, then you’ve just admitted to thievery. I suppose we should take you to the royal warden. He can chop off your right hand as punishment for your crime.”