Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (11 page)

Keir and Michael followed them as
they walked the streets, inspecting the leather worker’s stall as well as the
stall of a man who sold all manner of jewelry.  Cassandra wanted jewelry but
Chloë was more practical and told her sister they needed to buy their
‘necessities’ first before buying things they truly didn’t need.  Michael
stepped in at the disappointed look on Cassandra’s face and offered to buy her
whatever she wished, which thrilled Cassandra.  Chloë just shook her head at
her greedy sister and continued on to the next shop with Keir close behind her.

Chloë kept turning around, seeing
Keir walking behind her like a massive, silent sentinel.  His helm was on, his
visor up, and his ice blue eyes were scanning the area for any threats,
perceived or otherwise. But when Chloë turned around to look at him, he focused
on her instead and she grinned at him.

“You do not have to walk behind
me like a servant,” she waved her hand at him, motioning him forward. “Please
walk beside me.”

Keir grunted. “I am afraid to.”

Her smiled broadened. “Why?”

“Because you might do to me what
you did to that merchant in the shop. I will soon find myself sewing all of
your dresses for a mere pittance.”

She laughed at him, a glorious
gesture that had him captivated.  “I will not force you to sew my coats.”

“Promise?”

She nodded. “I do,” she cast him
a long glance over her shoulder. “Now, will you walk with me?”

Fighting off a grin, Keir moved
up beside her.  He and Chloë exchange a few flirtatious glances, mostly Chloë
looking at him as he pretended not to look at her. But he was most definitely
looking.  As they approached another small stall, he took her hand and gently
tucked it into the crook of his elbow.

Chloë held on to him tightly, as
if afraid he might try to get away.  He refused to look at her, knowing she was
smiling up at him, but he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he reached
down with his other hand and captured the fingers clasped around his elbow. She
gripped his fingers tightly and Keir could feel his heart lighten, giddiness
filling him as he’d not felt in years.  He did look at her, then, only to see
that she was still smiling at him.  He winked at her. It was the best he could
do without making a fool out of himself completely.

Chloë was so swept up in looking
at the man that she hadn’t realized they were at their destination.
Reluctantly, she let him go and began to peruse the small selection of carved
wooden boxes that contained oils to soften the skin. The oils were contained in
small clay jars nestled in the boxes and she carefully went about smelling
them. 

She pulled Keir into her
inspection and would hold up one jar for him to smell, watch his reaction, and
then move on to the next one.  He liked the florals and not the spices like
cinnamon, clove or thyme, so Chloë purchased four phials of floral oils, three
lumpy white bars of Castile soap, two ivory hair combs, and a phial of oil that
was supposed to make the hair soft and shiny.  The shop keeper, a small man
with rotted teeth, wrapped it all up in roughly woven fabric for her to take
with her.

Keir carried the packages as they
headed back to find Cassandra.  They could see the blond sister and Michael
across the square at another merchant shop and they moved in that direction. 
The wind was picking up, blowing escaped tendrils from Chloë’s braided hair
across her face as the crossed the muddy square with the well in the center of
it. 

Women from the village were
gathering there with their wash and children to collect water.  The well was a
gathering place for tasks as well as gossip. Several of the women spied Keir,
tall and strong and handsome, and immediately the blouses began to come down
and expose white shoulders and smiling, come-hither faces focused on him. 

Chloë noticed the female
attention on Keir and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, a
silent inference of possession. The man didn’t belong to her in the least but
she wanted every woman in town to think he did. She gazed up at him, smiling,
realizing that she wished he did belong to her. She wished it with all her
heart.  Keir caught her look and winked at her.  It was enough of a warm
gesture to crush the cluster of hopeful female faces.

Victorious, Chloë was silently
laughing at her triumph but more than that, she wondered if Keir might actually
find interest in her. He was certainly acting the part and hope bloomed in her
heart.  As they passed the cluster of hussies, one of Keir’s soldiers swiftly
approached. The man saluted sharply.

“My lord,” he said to Keir.
“Riders approach – two knights and about ten men at arms. They are riding hard
from the north and will very soon be upon us.”

Keir was cool.  “Colors?”

“None that we could see, my
lord.”

Keir nodded. “Very well,” he
grasped Chloë by the hand and began to pull her towards Michael and her sister
as the soldier followed along. He snapped orders to the soldier. “Put ten men
armed with crossbows into hiding along the north road. I want the rest of them
in town with me.  Hurry.”

The soldier fled. Chloë skipped
along next to Keir, feeling some apprehension. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he
told her. “But I would rather be prepared. You and your sister will stay with
Michael while I see who approaches.”

Michael and Cassandra saw the
pair approaching quickly. Chloë was practically running to keep up with Keir’s
long-legged strides. Michael had seen the soldier speak with Keir, the same man
who was now running off, past the women who had tried to attract Keir and
disappearing between a pair of stalls to the north.  He looked expectantly to
Keir as the man approached with his hands full of packages and Chloë on his
arm.

“Orders, my lord?” he asked.

Keir handed him the packages.
“You will take the women to safety until I know who approaches the town,” he
told him.  “I am told two knights and ten men at arms are swift on the
approach.”

Michael understood. “Aye, my
lord,” he had the packages in one hand and Cassandra in the other.  Chloë was
still holding on to Keir and he nodded to her encouraging. “Come along, my
lady.”

Chloë appeared hesitant. She
clutched Keir, looking anxiously to Michael and then back to Keir again.  “You
are not going to battle, are you?” she asked softly.

He could hear the fear in her
voice. The last time unknown knights were sighted in her world, they had attacked
her home.  Keir smiled at her, patting her hand.

“Nay,” he assured her. “But it is
prudent to be cautious. I am sure there is nothing to fret over.”

“Then let me come with you.”

His smile faded. “Nay,” he
caressed the fingers in his grip.  “You will go with Michael to safety.”

Chloë didn’t want to argue with
him but she was apprehensive.  Suddenly, a flood of St. Hèver men came rushing
into the town square and Lucan was in the middle of them, directing the men to
take position.  Chloë’s apprehension grew but Keir watched the activity calmly
before turning to her once again.  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed
her warm fingers.

“Please,” he murmured. “Go with
Michael. Everything will be well.”

“Promise?”

His smile returned. “I do.”

“Keir!” Lucan suddenly called
from his position near the well. “They are splitting off.”

Keir strained to catch a glimpse
of what Lucan was talking about, craning his neck to see up the northern road.
“Where?”

Lucan put a hand in the air and
motioned in circles. “All around us,” he said.  “They are moving to the east
and west.”

Keir didn’t have any more time to
waste.  Kissing Chloë’s hand again, he pushed her in Michael’s direction as he
moved away from her and unsheathed his broadsword.  Michael was moving to pull
the women into the nearest stall when a charger bearing full armor and a well
–armed knight suddenly burst from the alleyway behind them, nearly running
Chloë over. She shrieked in fear and bolted off, separating herself from
Michael and Cassandra.

Keir wasn’t far off; he saw what
had happened and he rushed in Chloë’s direction, holding his sword leveled at
the big and fearsome knight.

“You whoreskin,” he spat as he
pulled Chloë against him protectively. “I ought to take your head off for
nearly trampling her.”

The knight just sat there, his
helmed head unmoving.  Then, he reached up an enormous glove and flipped up the
visor.  Ice blue eyes glimmered at Keir.

“It is good to see you, too,
brother.”

Keir growled at the man, shaking
his head with frustration. “What in the hell are you doing, Kurt?”

Kurtis St. Hèver’s icy eyes were
glittering with warmth at his younger brother. “Did I frighten you, little
girl?”

“You did not. But you nearly ran
the lady over.”

Kurtis’ gaze moved from his
brother to the spectacular red head in his arms. She was a magnificent vision
of porcelain skin and perfect features. His expression moved from warm greeting
to cool regard.

“My apologies,” he said, his
voice deep.

Keir still had hold of Chloë
against him, realizing that she was trembling.  Simply to comfort the shaken
woman, he caressed her back soothingly as she pressed fearfully against him.

“This is the Lady Chloë de Geld,”
he introduced her.  “That is her sister, the Lady Cassandra, under Michael’s
protection. Ladies, this is my brother, Sir Kurtis St. Hèver.”

Chloë politely acknowledged him,
relishing the gentle caress of Keir’s hand against her back but not entirely
comfortable with it in a public venue. She discreetly moved away from him to
recover her composure.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,
Sir Kurtis,” she said.

Kurtis dipped his head but said
nothing. His eyes were the same color as his brother’s but they were somehow
harder, more intense.  He regarded the spectacular woman for a moment before
returning his attention to his brother.

“What are you doing here?” he
asked. “I thought you would be at Pendragon.”

Keir gestured to the women. “We
have guests at Pendragon,” he said. “It is a long story, but suffice it to say
that I am charged with the protection of Lady Chloë and Lady Cassandra for the
time being. The ladies wished to do some shopping so here we are.”

Kurtis’ cold gaze moved back to
Chloë and then to Cassandra. “I see,” he replied, although he really didn’t. 
He refocused on his brother. “I am returning from Penrith on an errand for
Northumberland. I sent a scout ahead about a half hour ago, meant for
Pendragon, but he returned to say that he saw you in town.”

“So that is why you were riding
hard to reach us.”

Kurtis nodded. “I wanted to
surprise you. Perhaps even rob you if you have purchased anything worth
stealing.”

Keir just shook his head,
grinning, and sheathed his sword.  He watched Chloë as she moved a wide berth
around Kurtis’ menacing charger to reach her sister. She whispered something to
Cassandra, who nodded, and the pair moved off into another stall.  Michael
followed, leaving Keir behind with his brother. 

Kurtis dismounted his charger and
removed his helm, scratching his white-blond hair beneath. He was a big man
like his brother, shorter than Keir by a few inches, with a steely demeanor
about him. He had a shadow of his brother’s good looks but not his pleasing
personality. But there was no one in Northern England better with a sword and
Kurtis had seen many battles against the Scots to cement his powerful
reputation. His post with the Earl of Northumberland was a prestigious one. He
eyed his younger brother as he fidgeted with his hauberk, his helm.

“You are looking well,” he
commented. “Old, but well.”

Keir gave him a crooked grin; in
spite of everything, he was very glad to see his brother.  He slapped the man
on a broad shoulder.

“And you are every inch the idiot
I remember,” he replied. “How is Northumberland treating you?”

Kurtis nodded. “Well enough,” he
replied. “I am now Captain of the Guard so I cannot complain.”

Keir was impressed.
“Congratulations,” he said. “I hope you choke on it.”

For the first time, stone-faced
Kurtis cracked a smile. “I fear I already have,” he muttered. “Speaking of
choking, what are those women really doing at Pendragon?”

Keir folded his big arms across
his chest, shifting on his legs. “We attended a siege at Exelby Castle several
days ago, defending those women and their family from an onslaught by Baron Ingilby,”
he told him. “Ingilby wants to marry Lady Chloë but she wants nothing to do
with him, so her father has asked that I take charge of both women and hide
them at Pendragon until the situation settles down.  Exelby is in ruins and
they have nowhere else to go.”

Kurtis listened intently. “John Ingilby?”

“The same.”

“The man is Northumberland’s
kin.”

“I know.”