Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (25 page)

Lonely
knight’s head

Tavern
wenches by the score

Have
warmed his cold bed…

“Ahem.” The loud clearing of Fulke’s throat gave him
pause.

Guy squinted at him, slurring, “Aye, my liege?”

Fighting an amused grin, he said, “Perhaps you should
finish another time.”

Reina buried her face in Fulke’s tunic to hide her
laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

Dejected, Guy fell into his seat, mumbling sadly,
“Aye, my liege.”

Gervase slapped Guy on the back, driving him into the
table. “That was by far, your best sonnet yet.”

Guy straightened, looking hopeful. “Do you think so,
Gervase?”

“Aye,” Gervase slurred loudly. “Look yonder. Our lady
is weeping from the sheer beauty of it.”

Squinting at Reina, Guy slurred proudly, “I do have a
way with words.”

With an exaggerated roll of the eyes at the two, Talan
slammed his hand on the table to stand.
  
Scrunching his eyes, he peered in Reina’s direction.
 
Swaying dangerously, he managed a garbled,
“Gooden tide, my lady.”

Falling back heavily into his chair, he missed
altogether.

From his seat on the floor, he held his cup aloft
victoriously as the rest of the men roared with drunken laughter.

Albin whirled towards Reina, knocking over his chair
as he stood.
 
Before he could attempt an
approach, he stood with mouth agape as she approached him.

The men grew quiet, watching in drunken fascination.

With a beaming smile, she cupped Albin’s whiskered
jaw. Pulling him down, she kissed each cheek.
“You are a
very wise man, Albin. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Talan leaned towards him. Attempting a whisper, he
yelled, “My lady said you are a very wise man and thanks you not to fart.”

Listing in Talan’s direction, Albin shouted, “I bloody
well know she said thank you, lack-wit.
 
I am not slow!” Falling into his seat, he mumbled, “As to the rest,
there are times a man cannot help himself.”

Guy waved a hand in front of his nose. “It is not the
sound so much as the smell that offends, Albin.”

Face down on the table, Osbert interrupted Albin’s
rebuttal.
 
Holding his cup high above his
head, he roared into the polished wood, “My lady!”

Catching sight of the raised salute, Reina could not
keep from laughing as she reseated herself beside Fulke.

Joining in her mirth, Fulke’s deep throaty laugh
sounded like a roar in the suddenly silent room.
 
Exchanging pleased glances, the men raised
their cups in his direction to toast the day.

Once again in control of himself, Fulke lightly
brushed the tears from Reina’s cheeks. “I love you, my lady.”

In reply, she ran her fingertips along the side of his
face.
“And I you my lord.”

The loud chorus of jealous groans from the table
caused him to smile.

* * * *

Early the next morning, Fulke sat on the rim of the
tub as Reina soaked. Trailing a hand through the warm water, he spanned the
slight swell of her abdomen. “I will pray for a maiden with her mother’s
beauty.”

She smiled smugly.
“I have already prayed for
a son with his father’s handsome visage.”

He leaned down to kiss her. “Whichever one it may be,
we shall try again for the other.”

Arching a brow, she pulled him into the bath.
“Practice makes perfect, my lord.”

When they joined the men for a late breakfast, Fulke
noted the heaping platters of untouched food with amusement. Filling a plate to
share with Reina, he chuckled when he approached the table.

An ashen shade of gray, Albin looked away from the
food. “Egad, Fulke. Have you no pity that you resort to torture so early in the
morn?”

Plopping a slice of sausage into his mouth, he lightly
replied, “I seem to recall being interrupted when I pledged myself to my wife
one fine morn not so long ago, Albin. I believe I stated at the time I give as
good as I get.”

Albin mumbled, “The man’s memory is a curse to us
all,” before carefully laying his head on the table.

Of the men, Talan seemed to be in the best shape. A
shade of gray lighter than Albin’s, he raised bloodshot eyes to Fulke. “My
liege,” he croaked. “I heard the servants discussing that the king is expected
sometime on the morrow.” Swallowing hard, he rested his chin on his chest.

Gervase spent the night in his chair. Arms at his
sides, his head thrown back, he was snoring loudly at the ceiling.

Wondering what the ladies would think if they were to
see the dashing knight, Fulke chuckled.

Propped on an elbow beside him, Guy stared absently
into the fire.

“That was quite some sonnet you recited for your lady
yester-eve, Guy,” he called harshly.
   

Guy’s eyes widened in horror as he shifted his gaze to
Fulke.
 
His mouth working to form some
type of excuse, Fulke took pity on him. “I jest lad.”

Sighing softly, Guy could do no more than return his
gaze to the fire.

Warin held his head between his palms, low in his
seat. Glancing up to meet Reina’s look of concern, he attempted a weak
smile.
  

Osbert remained in the same position he held the night
before. His hand wrapped around his empty cup, he snored into the table.

Reina looked up at Fulke, her eyes filled with
concern.
“Is there not something we can do for them?”

“There is, though I doubt they are in the condition to
hear it.”
 
Eyeing her untouched plate, he
chided, “You are to take better care of yourself, mother of my child.” Picking
up a slice of apple, he held it up for her.

Reina smiled before taking a bite.
“My son is very lucky to have such a father.”

Albin groaned loudly. “It is too early in the morn to
see such wanton displays.”

“Only because you are not the recipient,” Fulke
quipped.

Albin managed a weak, “Boastful lout.”

After Reina finished eating, Fulke leaned back in his
chair. Facing her, he addressed the men. “I fear our brief respite will be over
on the morrow, so I propose that we celebrate our Christmastide early.”

He glanced at Warin. “Do you think you can advise the
kitchens of our intent, lad?”

Warin nodded slowly, replying hoarsely, “Consider it
done, my liege.”

Rising, he assisted Reina to stand. “We shall be
outside, enjoying some fresh air. I suggest you all do the same when you are
able.” Taking in Albin’s sickly pallor, he fought a grin. “Perhaps after a
visit to the garderobe.”

Albin glowered in response as Fulke guided a laughing
Reina from the hall. Waiting until he was out of earshot, he threw his head
back to join her.

Crossing the courtyard with his arm around her
shoulders, she suddenly bent down.
 
Alarmed, he reached for her when she popped back up with a handful of
snow.

Watching her pack the snow into a ball, he shook his
head with a grin. “Do not even think about it.” Before he could move, he had a
face full of snow.

She attempted to flee as he scooped her up, slowly
whirling her around. “You are going to get it for that.” Kissing her, he pulled
her down into a snow bank.

Shaking a well-placed pile of snow from his hair, he
found six solemn faces staring at them.

He dodged more snow thrown by Reina, to call, “You men
act like you have never before seen a snow fight.”

Albin slowly shook his head. “Not one that included
you.”

Fulke laughed, throwing a handful of snow into Albin’s
surprised face. “There is a first for everything, is there not, my old friend?”

Taking in Fulke’s heartfelt grin, Albin slowly
smiled.
 

Scooping up some snow of his own, he delivered it into
Fulke’s face. “It is about time you came around. I had begun to lose all hope.”

“No my friend, you never would have,” he said in all
sincerity.
 

Talan retaliated against the attack on Fulke by
smacking Albin on the back of the head with snow as Gervase and Guy banded
together against Warin and Osbert.
 
It
soon became a full-blown snow fight.

Fulke protected Reina from the worst of it by
shielding her behind him, only to have her pack snow down the neck of his
tunic.
 

He whirled around to scoop her up. “You do not fight
fair, my lady.”

Smiling up at him, she quirked a brow.
“Whoever told you I did, my lord?”

Leaning in for a kiss, he paused when he saw her eyes
widen.

He followed her gaze to a score of servants gathered
at the top of the castle’s outer wall, silently watching them.

Realizing what their carefree group must look like to
the king’s staid servants, he whirled Reina back into the fight.

* * * *

Loaded down with packages, Fulke escorted Reina from
their chamber to their celebration that evening.

Hearing the men’s laughter outside the door, he gazed
tenderly down at his wife. Never before had he so looked forward to
Christmastide.

He noticed Albin drinking ale as he greeted the group.
“No wine for you this eve, my friend?”

Albin scoffed, “Vilest of brews, that.
 
Fat Louis must have sent it to Henry in the
hopes of poisoning us all.”

Talan poured himself a cup of wine. “King Louis was
not the one pouring it down your gullet, Albin.”

Fulke laughed as he poured Reina a cup of honeyed
mead.

Laden with an array of sumptuous dishes that included
swan, peafowl, lamb, veal and wild boar, they shared the feast.

Taking in the faces gathered
 
around the table, he raised his cup. “To
family, a man could ask for none finer,” he recited solemnly.

Cups held high, a chorus of
 
voices seconded. “To family.”
      

After a dessert of dragees, aged cheese and a variety
of mulled wines that remained largely untouched, the group moved to sit around
the fire to exchange gifts.

Reina placed a kiss on each of the men’s blushing
cheeks as she handed them their gift.

Placing several packages before Fulke, she kneeled.
Sitting back with a smile, she waited for him to open them.

Unwrapping the cloak she bought for him, he swung it
around her shoulders to pull her close for a kiss. “You spoil me, my lady.”

“That was my intent, my lord,”
she said before kissing him.

Cuddling against his side, they watched the rest of
the men open their gifts. They held their silver knives almost reverently as
they admired the detailed engraving on the handles.

Unwrapping his knife, Talan moved to catch Reina’s
attention.
 
Holding it up, he dipped his
head. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Returning his smile, she caught Fulke looking at her.
“I had fun shopping, my lord.”
 

“I did as well,” presenting her with a small wrapped
package. “A mere token of what I feel for you,” he said softly.

Sitting up, she accepted the silk wrapped gift, before
returning her gaze to him.
“Your heart is the only
gift I shall ever need,”
reaching up for his kiss.

He reluctantly pulled back when the whistles started.
“It seems our audience is anxious for you to open your gift, my lady.”