Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (32 page)

She lowered her hand to cover his heart.
“No Fulke, I beseech you not to leave me again.”

Understanding slammed into him. With a look of
despair, Fulke fell to his knees to wrap his arms around her.
 
Looking up, he pleaded, “Then do not leave me
Reina, this I beseech you.”

Gently running her fingers through his hair, she
tenderly gazed down at him.
“One day, a troubadour
will tell the tale of a brave knight who took on a king for the love of his
lady. What kind of ending would it be if it were to end unhappily, my lord?”
Cupping his face, she looked intently into his frightened eyes.
“I am stronger than you give me credit for, Fulke. If need be, do not
think for one moment I would leave your side without a fight.”

Rising to hold her, he rested his cheek on the top of her
head. “Should it come to pass I pray you win my love, or it shall kill us
both,” he whispered.

* * * *

The day after they celebrated Albin and Talan’s return
from Rochester, Reina sat stitching in the Great Hall with Warin, her assigned
companion for the day.

Once again polishing the blade Fulke had given him,
the men teased it would blind the French with its glare from across the
channel.

Embroidering a linen gown for the babe, Reina reached
for a different colored thread as a crippling pain ripped through her, doubling
her over.
 
Gasping, she clutched her
stomach and felt a rush of warm liquid soak the back of her kirtle.

Dropping his sword, Warin leapt to her side as she
struggled to rise. “Tell me what to do, Reina.”

Leaning heavily against him, she gasped for breath as
the pain subsided.
“Help me to my chamber and
fetch Hylda from the village.”

They reached the steps when another wave of pain left
her gasping.

Unable to move forward, she said,
“Warin,
summon one of the knights.”

She stood doubled over with her hands on her stomach
as Warin ran through the door straight into Gervase. “Reina needs assist,” he
rambled in a panic.

Gervase just stared at him, perplexed.

Realizing he had not spoken aloud, Warin shouted,
“Reina!” gesturing anxiously towards the steps.
 

* * * *

Taking in Reina’s posture, Gervase ran to sweep her up
in his arms.
 
Climbing the steps as fast
as he dared, he called, “Fetch Hylda, lad.”
 

He faltered in the passageway when Reina tensed in his
arms from another wave of pain. Kicking the door open to the solar, he carried
her to the bed. Easing her down, he propped several down-filled pillows behind
her.

Seeing him glance nervously towards the door, Reina
forced a smile.

“Hylda shall be here soon, my lady,” he reassured her,
shifting anxiously from foot to foot.
 
Glancing over his shoulder, he visibly relaxed to see Talan burst into
the room.
   

Rushing to the bed, Talan knelt down. “I spotted Warin
riding hard for the village, the babe comes?”

“Aye,” Gervase replied nervously. Staring wide-eyed at
Reina, she blushed at his intense regard.

Talan pushed him away. “Make yourself useful lack-wit
and start a fire.”

“Fulke should be back with Hylda soon, my lady,” Talan
said, reaching for her hand. “What can I do?”

“I need, Hylda.”

“The fire’s lit, Talan.” Gervase said anxiously.

“Put water on to boil and go see what is taking Hylda
so long,” Talan called over his shoulder.

Setting the kettle on the hook above the kindled fire,
Gervase gladly quit the room. Racing outside, he scanned the distance, relieved
to see Fulke and Warin tearing up the turf on their way back to the castle.

Albin came running through the side gate with Guy hard
on his heels. “The babe comes?”

“Aye,” he called anxiously, “Talan is with her.”

 
Drawing up
beside him, Albin asked, “When did the pains start?”

“I do not know, Albin.
 
The lady is in a great deal of pain.” He pounded a fist into his hand.
“I feel so bloody helpless.”

Out of breath, Albin replied, “I fear there is nothing
we can do but pray.”

* * * *

Fulke had ridden out early that morning to discuss the
upcoming harvest with the tenants. Walking through the village, he smiled to
notice the women going about their daily chores dressed in costly silk and
velvet kirtles.

Fulke was standing beside Rowan talking with a group
of crofters when he spotted Warin galloping towards them. His heart racing, he
asked, “Where is Hylda?”

Already running for his horse, Rowan shouted after
him, “I last saw her by Thea’s hut, your lordship!”

Bellowing her name, Hylda came running from inside the
hut as Fulke reared-up before it. One look at his frightened face and she knew.
She ran to Warin as he reigned up beside Fulke. “Hurry lad, you need to boost
me onto the back of his lordship’s horse.”

Without pause, Warin dismounted. Cupping his hands, he
boosted Hylda up behind Fulke before vaulting back into his saddle.

“Hold tight, Hylda,” he called over his shoulder.
Reining around, Fulke spurred his horse in the direction of the castle.

With her skirts hiked to her knees, Hylda wrapped her
arms tightly around Fulke’s waist. Clenching her eyes shut, she held on for
dear life.
 

Reining up before his men in the courtyard, he
dismounted to sweep Hylda from the saddle.
 
Holding her high against his chest, he sprinted for the hall. Taking the
steps two at a time, he raced by the men. “Who is with her?”

Hard on his heels, Albin called, “Talan.”

* * * *

Leading Warin’s horse, Guy absently bent to retrieve
the reins of Fulke’s lathered horse. Heading for the stables, he caught sight
of Gervase standing dumbstruck by the castle entrance.

“Whatever is wrong with you now, Gervase?”

It took a moment for Gervase to respond, the image of
Hylda riding astride behind Fulke flashing through his mind. Her brown woolen
kirtle hiked up well past her ageing thighs, her long braid bouncing in the
wind as her bony knees gripped the sides of the horse for dear life.

“There are some things in life that I am just not
meant to see,” Gervase replied softly.
 

Fulke burst into the solar. Setting Hylda on her feet,
he glimpsed Reina’s pain filled face.
 
“What can I do, Hylda?”

“This is no place for men, your lordship,” brushing
him aside, she continued, “Women from the village are on their way.”

Catching sight of Reina gasping on the bed, Albin
choked out, “I shall see what is keeping them.”
 

Fulke knelt to hold Reina’s hand against his cheek.
His tortured gaze fixed on her pale face. “Were it possible, I would bear your
pain, Reina.”

She attempted to comfort him when a strong pain left
her gasping. Curling into herself, she clutched her stomach with her free hand.

Fulke’s face turned ashen as he watched her struggle
for breath. “I beg of you to remember your vow to me, my love.”

Through the pain, Reina smiled. Waiting for a wave of
pain to subside, she managed,
“It would take more than
this slight discomfort to keep me from your side.”

“I shall never put you through this again. If it means
I must remain chaste for the remainder of my life so be it,” he rambled brokenly.

Bending to wash her hands in a bowl of hot water,
Hylda snapped, “Your lordship, you must depart.”

“I shall not leave my wife, Hylda,” he said, taking in
Reina’s pain-filled eyes.

Hylda glanced up from her task in surprise. “You
cannot think of staying, your lordship. It is unheard of.”

“King Henry could not drag me from her side,” he
stated firmly, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

She assessed him a moment. “Then you may as well make
yourself useful.” Instructing him to sit against the headboard, Hylda guided
Reina between his legs so he could ease her back against him.

Too weak to argue one way or another, Reina rested her
head back against his chest.

Hylda pushed Reina’s knees up.
 
Hearing a choked sound, she glanced over her
shoulder, surprised to see Talan still standing there. Before she could open
her mouth to order him out, he fled on his own.

Wrapping his arms protectively around Reina’s
shoulders, Fulke laid his cheek on the top of her head willing her
strength.
 

When a wave of pain held her in its grip, she would
clench his knees with white knuckles until it passed.
  

“Push against it now Reina, push,” Hylda instructed.

Struggling to push as another wave crested, Reina
gasped weakly for breath.

Unable to bear it any longer, Fulke shouted, “It is
killing her, Hylda!
 
Do something, I beg
of you,” he finished brokenly.

* * * *

Helewys came rushing into the hall beside Thea.
Leading them up the steps to the lord’s solar, Albin caught Fulke’s pained
exclamation as they entered.
 
Numbly
backing away from the door, he returned to the hall. Ignoring the anxious gazes
of the men, he reached for a jug of ale with trembling hands. Tilting it back,
he drank until he could take no more.
 
He
slammed it back on the table to belch loudly in the silence.

Only Talan summoned the courage to ask uneasily, “What
is it Albin?”

Unable to communicate his fears, Albin shook his
head.
 
Stumbling over to a chair before
the hearth, he fell into it.

Exchanging worried looks, the men glanced up when one
of the village women came rushing down the steps. They waited in silence as she
rushed past them only to return a moment later with a knife.

Gervase blocked Thea’s path.
 
“What need have you with a knife?”

“It is necessary to deliver the babe, Sir Knight.”

“Why is it taking so long?” he pressed.

“Her ladyship is having a difficult time of it, sir,”
Thea replied softly.

Eyeing the knife nervously, his eyes widened as the
implication struck home. Before he could open his mouth, Talan reached over to
cuff
 
him sharply. Turning to Thea, he
said, “See to the lady.”

Following her flight back up the steps with a troubled
gaze, Talan joined Albin.
 
“All will be
well,” he spoke aloud to reassure himself.

Warin dropped on the bench by the table to pick up the
pitcher Albin discarded.
 
Tipping it
back, he drained it.
  

Turning to Guy, Gervase asked, “Why would they need a
knife?
 
You do not think they mean to…”
he could not finish the thought.

Guy wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leading him to
the table. “This is the one time I will tell you not to think, Gervase.”
Pouring a tankard of ale, he handed it to him.

Well on his way to being drunk, Albin spotted Rowan
hovering by the steps.
 
“You may as well
join us, Rowan,” he bellowed.
 

The usually reserved castellan took a seat on the
bench across from Warin. He gestured to a tankard. “May I?”

Warin slid a tankard his way. “You are family now,
Rowan. Hylda has been as much a mother to me as she has to Reina.”

“I know for Hylda to get on that horse with his
lordship, she loves her mistress deeply.” Rowan raised his tankard. “To her
ladyship’s health.”

Warin raised his cup. “And to the health of her
child.”