Rise of the Defender (45 page)

     “How would you like to go with me about my
duties?” he asked.

     Dustin's face lit up, as he knew it would.
“Can I? Oh, yes, I would like that.”

     “Good,” he smiled and stood, letting her
fall gently to her feet. “Gather your cloak, my love, for it promises to be
brisk.”

     She smiled happily and moved quickly to the
mirror to straighten her hair as he cursed himself silently. There he went
calling her 'my love’ again. He would have to stop himself from calling her
that before it became a nasty habit.

     He moved swiftly to his armor in the
corner, donning most of it before Dustin helped him with the mail hood and
gloves. But before he could put his helmet on, she jumped up and latched onto
his neck, kissing him hard on the lips.

     “Thank you, husband,” she whispered
happily.

     He grinned back at her. “For what?”

     She shrugged and let go of him, securing
her cloak. “For taking me with you, for protecting me. For everything.”

     “You may thank me as you did anytime,” he
winked at her, putting his helmet on.

     Taking her hand in his huge mailed fist, he
led her from the room.

***

     Even though it was late in the afternoon,
Windsor was alive with people. Christopher took her to the tournament arena
where his men were and she was awed at the sight of the stands and the colorful
banners that were going up all around. There were hundreds of servants and
craftsmen seeing to every detail of the arena and surrounding vendor booths.

     “Where is your banner?” she asked her
husband.

     Christopher pointed to a massive banner in
the shape of a three-point shield, a rich blue with a golden lion set into it.
The lion was rearing on its hind legs, a sword clutched in its claw and a
laurel wreath on its head. It was a truly magnificent banner and easily
outshone the others.

     “It's beautiful,” she said sincerely.

     Christopher pointed to a banner a couple of
flags down. “That is the de Lohr banner, for Lohrham Forest.” It was a green
and yellow banner with a hunting bird on it.

     Dustin studied it. “Why are there two
different banners for you?”

     “Nay, sweetheart,
my
banner is the
blue and gold,” he told her. “It stands for my title and Lioncross Abbey. The
other one is for my uncle and our family name.”

     “Are there going to be knights from Lohrham
Forest competing?” she asked.

     “There are only three knights at Lohrham,
and yes, they are going to be here,” he said. “They will compete for my uncle's
honor. I will compete for mine.”

     He took her around the arena where several
men were practicing jousting with straw-stuffed dummies. Dustin was so involved
with watching them that she nearly tripped twice.

     Christopher held her hand tightly, amused
at her fascination. He had been around knights and tournaments for so long that
it was refreshing to see it through the eyes of one who had never seen the
spectacle before.

     In a clearing next to the arena,
Christopher's knights were practicing hand-to-hand fighting with several other
knights. The two of them stood on the perimeter for several minutes, watching
Marcus plow through several knights and not even raise a sweat. He stopped when
he caught sight of Christopher and Dustin and smiled brightly.

     “An audience.” he said loudly, removing his
helmet as he approached them. “Just what I like to have.”

     “Marcus, you are a wonderful fighter.”
Dustin gushed. “Those men didn't have a chance.”

     Marcus glanced at Christopher. “Obviously
you have not seen your husband in the ring, my lady. The gods are envious of
his talent.”

     Dustin grinned, catching sight of David and
Leeton. She called out to them and David motioned her over, and she went to him
as eager as a child.

     “What is she doing here?” Marcus murmured
casually to Christopher.

     Christopher's eyes were on his wife as he
replied. “I felt it safer to keep her with me at all times,” he replied
quietly. “After what happened, I will not let her out of my sight. Besides,
this is all new to her and she loves it. She will be no trouble.”

     Marcus nodded in agreement. “I must confess
I had no idea what we would find in John's apartments,” he muttered, fussing
with his gauntlet. “With the prince hung like a bull, he has torn many a young
woman asunder and I half-expected Dustin to fall prey.”

     Christopher shook his head. “You do not
know my wife very well,” he said. “She may be innocent, but she packs a punch.
She would fight him with her dying breath.”

     Dustin turned around and called out to
them, motioning them to join her. Christopher started to comply but Marcus
backed off.

     “I have got more rounds, Chris,” he said,
replacing his helmet.

     “Then we shall see you in my apartment
before supper,” Christopher replied. “I should like us all to attend the meal
together in a show of unity.”

     “Agreed,” Marcus nodded. “That will throw
the fear of God into John. With the Lion's Claw and Richard's premier general
in the room, he ought to be throwing fits on the rushes before the night is
out.”

     Christopher grinned as the two went their
separate ways.

     Dustin spent the rest of fading daylight
watching her husband and his men work over the other knights on the combat
field. Someone had brought her a chair and she sat on the edge of it, her eyes
riveted to the fighting before her.

     It was clear early on that Marcus had been
right

     Christopher was easily the best soldier
there. She has seen him fight before, but briefly. Here in this setting, he was
constant and omnipotent, dropping men easily. Her heart swelled with excitement
and pride when she thought of him winning the tournament tomorrow.

     He joined her after an hour or so of
knocking over weaker men. When he removed his helmet, she promptly stood up and
kissed him loudly on the cheek.

     “What was that for?” he asked.

     “For being brilliant and strong.” she said
giddily. “And Marcus. I must congratulate him, too, for being almost as good.”

     “Do not kiss him,” Christopher said in a
low voice, shaking out his helmet.  “A simple handshake will do.”

     She gazed at him for a moment, her
joviality fading. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Christopher must
never know what happened between her and Marcus. As protective and possessive
as he was, there was no telling how he would react and Marcus' life might be in
serious jeopardy. Mayhap her life, too.

     Trying to gage him, mayhap trying to
anticipate his reaction, she pressed forward in her usual manner.

     “No handshake,” she teased. “I will give
Marcus a big, wet kiss right on the lips.”

     He simply shook his head, removing his
gauntlets and shaking the perspiration out of them. Not receiving an immediate
answer, she turned her attention back to the field.

     “Your kiss to Marcus would be the kiss of
death.” He said it so casually that she almost didn't catch his words. “I would
run him through and take delight in it…Marcus!”

     She jumped when he yelled to his knight, feeling
sick inside. Even as Marcus jogged over and the two of them engaged in a
tactical conversation, she still felt dulled and nauseated. She decided to
never again bring up the subject and to pretend that it never, ever happened.
Mayhap lf she pretended long enough she would come to believe it.

     Dustin looked up at the two men as they
spoke, each distinctly handsome. But she found it was Christopher who drew her
gaze, who warmed her heart. She thought of the tournament, and of him winning.
If he were to win and she were not awarding prizes, then it would mean that
another woman would have the honor of publicly touching her husband. With that
thought, she flared.

     “Christopher?” she called to him.

     He and Marcus turned to look at her. She
fixed her husband with a miffed gaze.

     “You are going to win the tournament, are
you not?” she demanded.

     He cocked his head, unsure of her tone or
her question. “I would hope to.”

     “But you are the best soldier in the realm.
You fight all of these men as if they are children, so I would venture to say
that you are going to win the tournament,” she said firmly.

     He cleared his throat modestly. “There are
two categories, my lady, the joust and field combat. To win both would be a
task.”

     She stood up, rigid with the jealousy she
was feeling. “But you are the very best; therefore, you will win.” He cocked
his eyebrow at her and she continued almost angrily. “If you win and I am not
allowed to bestow the prize to the winner, then that will mean that another
woman will have the pleasure of kissing you and rewarding you publicly. You
will not allow me kiss Marcus to congratulate him for a fine fight, yet you
would allow another woman to kiss you in front of the entire court.”

     Both men were taken aback by the ferocity
of her statement, yet Christopher had to agree she had a certain amount of
logic. Silly, but logical. Before he could answer her, she jumped at him again.

     “Think on it this way, husband,” she raised
her chin. “If I am to bestow prizes, then what better incentive for you to win?
You would not want me favoring another, would you?”

     Marcus snorted. “She has a point,” he
mumbled, then suddenly looked struck. “What does she mean congratulate me for a
fine fight?”

     Christopher gave Marcus an irritated glare
before focusing on his wife again. “What brought this up again?”

     She stuck out her lip. “Nothing. I….I just
want to be the one to congratulate you, ‘tis all.”

     “And you shall, in the privacy of our
bedchamber,” he replied evenly. “Not in front of the whole of Windsor and
London.”

     She scowled. “And why not in front of them?
Are you ashamed of me?”

     Marcus started to laugh and Christopher was
highly annoyed at both of them. “Of course not, Dustin, but what we do between
ourselves is a private matter, not to be displayed for public scrutiny.”

     “We are married, Chris. They know that we
do far more than merely kiss,” she shot back, putting her hands on her hips.
“If you won't let me award trophies, then I will not come at all.”

     Christopher moved toward her and away from
the hysterical Marcus, gripping her arm tightly and leading her several feet
away. She frowned fiercely at him.

     “Do not look at me like that,” he snapped.
“And do not speak to me in that tone, either. I have warned you about that.”

     “Then why cannot I award the prizes?” she
persisted. “Oh, please? Do not deny me.”

     As much as he hated to admit it, her
reasoning was sound. He knew he would be the victor, and he would like nothing
better than to be kissed by his wife. But she would be kissing him in front of
John and Ralph, and he knew he would not be able to control his emotions when
he held her in his arms. They would see right through the rigid facade he was
trying to maintain.

     “Very well, I will think on it,” he said
finally, watching her face light up with a huge smile. He held up a warning
finger. “But I promise nothing other than that.”

     “That is enough, husband.”

     She threw her arms around his neck and
kissed him two or three times before he peeled her from him.

     “Dustin, not out here, sweet,” he admonished
her softly. “Not in front of the men.”

     She pouted. “You are ashamed of me, then.
You do not even want your own men to see me touch you.”

     He gave her a stern glare. “That, lady, is
a lie and you well know it. But there is a time and place for everything, and
kissing me in front of my knights is not the correct place for that action.”

     She was still put off, turning away from
him and crossing her arms. He watched her as he adjusted his armor and put his
gauntlets back on.

     “I will say this, Lady de Lohr,” he said,
softly and richly. “I am more proud of you and your beauty than you can
imagine. Mayhap that is why I wish to keep what is between us private. To see
you display affection inflames every man who sees it; to see nothing more than
courtesy and warmth between us only fuels their imagination and nothing more.
What I do with you is my private heaven and no one else's.”

     She gazed up at him, deeply touched by his
words. “Cannot I at least kiss you once in a while, should it be appropriate?”

     He gave her a half-grin and leaned down,
kissing her on the lips so sweetly that she lost her balance. “Aye, you may.
And I give myself permission to kiss you wherever and whenever I damn well
please. Satisfied?”