Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (24 page)

Something was off as she approached the head table, but it took her a long moment to realize what it was. The elegantly carved wooden throne was gone. She looked up at Erik in confusion.

“My mother is now at peace,” he stated, “and it is time for us to relegate her to the past. The chair is in the guest room, beside the bed it matches. Let it serve as an honored seat for visitors there. You and I, we have our chairs, and they suit us well.”

He held a hand out to her, and she could feel the strength in his fingers as he guided her to her seat. Michael sat at her other side, and it was almost too much to take in.

Zelda came by with roast pork, Tina’s red ringlets bounced as she poured them fresh mead, but all of Mary’s thoughts were on the end of the meal. It seemed only seconds before their apple tart was being cleared away, and she turned to Michael. He patted her hand, giving her a supportive nod.

Mary stood, holding out both hands, and the room fell into an attentive silence. Erik sat back in his chair, his eyes on her with curiosity.

Mary looked out over the familiar room, over the people she had known for over a decade. She looked at the large fireplace with its ring of chairs and couches, and thought how many nights she had sat there, dreaming of the future.

“My dearest friends. I want to offer my deepest gratitude to everyone who helped rescue me and bring an end to the bandit menace. I do not exaggerate when I say my life was at risk. It is only due to Erik, Michael, Lord Paul, and many of the soldiers here that I was brought home safely.”

Her throat closed up at the thought of that word – home. She truly had come to think of this keep as her home. What did the future hold for her now?

She forced herself to smile, and pushed on. “You have been gracious to me during my time as Lady Cartwright. But clearly there was always one man intended to be Lord of this keep, and that is the man sitting at my side. Lady Cartwright, his mother, invested me with the solemn duty of caring for his birthright until he was fully home.”

Tina scurried up before her, handing her the large ring of keys, before blushing and returning to her place. Mary held the iron ring high for all to see, before turning to Erik, who was now sitting forward, pale.

Mary held the keys out on both hands. “Erik, the keep is yours.”

Erik blinked as if he could not quite grasp it all. He rose to his feet, looking first at her, and then at the room. A hush held the gathered people.

His hand came down to hers, and for a long moment it lingered there, his fingers caressing hers. Then he smiled. He looped his hand through the keys and held them high. The room burst into applause and cheers, with the clinking of mugs and shouts of approval.

At long last the room quieted and he looked out over the faces. “I could not have asked for a more able or valiant regent to watch over the keep while I was away,” he stated, his voice hoarse. “I will never be able to repay Mary for all she has done. She deserves, at last, her freedom. Her freedom to do whatever she wishes, unburdened by any restrictions.”

The cheers were even louder this time, and Mary was moved by the smiles. It warmed her to know that her efforts had been appreciated. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she took a long drink of mead.

Michael stood and moved to Erik’s other side. “I have something for you as well.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, turning to look at the older man.

Michael reached into the leather pouch at his pocket. “I was with your father, the day he was gored by the stag. He gave this to me, and asked me to present you with it when you grew of age and became Lord of this keep.” His eyes misted. “I have waited long for this day.”

He drew out a signet ring, holding it toward Erik.

Erik drew in a long breath, and there was a pause before he reached out his hand to take up the gold ring. He turned it in his hand, as if he did not quite believe it was real, before at last slipping it onto his finger.

Another burst of cheers and applause sounded, and Erik drew Michael into a warm hug, holding him for a long moment. Then the musicians were playing a country song, the room was filled with music, and a heartfelt celebration began.

Mary heard the lyrics, she felt the beat of the drum in the soft vibrations of the table, but somehow a distance was forming between her and the room around her. The feeling of loss, of emptiness, steadily grew. The transition was now complete. She had lost her place in the world. Her goal, her life’s purpose, was gone. The future loomed before her, black, empty, and directionless.

She pushed herself away from the table and headed out of the hall, across the quiet courtyard, and up the thin steps to the top of the curtain wall. As she had so many times before, she moved around its edge to the far side, where only a whistling wind kept her company. She leant against the crenelated stone, looking out over the trees. The bitterness of winter was fading, and the fragrant hint of spring was laced in the breeze. Stars twinkled overhead in a cacophony of silver and white, and she wondered if she could make out Avoca’s Folly in the glistening moonlight.

The thought of the doomed woman sent an echo through her own heart. Just how had Avoca felt, to have her sister pushing her, driving her, telling her what path to take in life? Avoca had chosen to escape by leaping out a window, to bring a brutal end to an all too brief existence.

Mary had been driven by that same whip, had known the same harsh taskmaster in life. She had done everything asked of her, had trained in sword and knife, in stealth and horsemanship. She had struggled vainly for approval. Even now, with the task done and behind her, she felt as if it was not quite enough. A chasm yawned before her, and it was pulling her in.

There was a noise behind her, and she turned in surprise.

Erik stood there, his face edged with concern, his shoulders tight with tension.

He gave a wry smile. “I thought I might find you up here. It is where I used to come, when I needed to think.”

She ran a hand along the rippled stone, thinking of all the years he had stood in this same place, perhaps filled with the same chaotic issues with his domineering mother.

He took a hesitant step forward. “Mary, I know something has been troubling you. What is it?”

She shook her head, looking back out into the distance. “I feel lost,” she admitted. “For so long my life has held one focus. Now that is gone.”

He came up to stand beside her. “You did far more than my mother could ever have expected,” he murmured. “You are free of that burden now. You can go anywhere. You can do anything you wish.”

Her face flushed with heat, and she turned to look at the keep, at the torches shining around it, sending a gentle glow along its walls. Her throat closed up, and she could barely get the words out. “Where else could I possibly want to be?”

Erik groaned, then pulled her in hard against his chest. Suddenly the emptiness was filled, was overflowing, and all she wanted was to be with him, to be a part of his world. The chasm behind her vanished in the mists, and a future spread out before her, dream-like in its unreality, in a fantastic nature that she never could have dreamed possible.

Then he was lowering himself onto one knee, holding her hand, looking up at her with glistening eyes.

“Choose to stay with me, of your own free will, and let me love you. Let us care for this keep together, and raise children to run laughing through its hallways. Let us dance and ride and watch the night stars side by side until the final light fades from our eyes.”

Mary blinked, overwhelmed, and she shook her head in bewilderment. “But I am just a village girl,” she protested. “Your mother never meant –”

He stood at that, staring down at her with focus. “My mother is dead,” he reminded her forcefully, “and from this day forward you are free to do what you want to do. To follow your heart.” It was a moment before he spoke again, his voice tight. “Do you love me?”

Her breath sighed out in disbelief. “Do I love you? I adore you, I treasure you, I would wake up each morning grateful beyond measure to have you as my husband.”

He smiled at that, running a hand tenderly down her hair. “Then you will be my wife?”

Mary threw herself into his arms, pressing herself against his broad chest, and when his arms came around her, her world was complete.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Chapter 21

Mary nervously brushed down the length of her embroidered green dress, then checked herself in the mirror for the fortieth time. She could still not believe the day had arrived at last. The week had been beyond busy with preparations and arrangements, and Mary wondered if she had even slept. But the moment had at last arrived, and the seamstress had proven herself a miracle worker. Mary knew she had never seen a dress as beautiful as this, with its stitchery of the crossed swords along the hem and neckline.

There was a knock at the door, and Michael’s voice eased around the corner. “Are you ready?”

Mary smiled. “Come.”

Michael pushed open the door, then stopped, gazing at her with a distant look. “You are stunning.”

Mary blushed. “Is everything ready?”

He nodded, his face growing serious. “Between our men and Lord Paul’s, the place is watched on all sides. But it’s not an assault of that nature that I’m worried about.”

Mary tucked her arm into his, giving him a warm squeeze. “If Lynessa were going to harm us, she would not want to martyr me through an anonymous attack at my wedding,” she stated calmly, forcing herself to believe it. “I don’t think that’s her style. She would want to do it in a personal way, where I would suffer long, knowing what was done to me.”

Michael’s brow creased. “I’m not sure that makes me feel much better,” he muttered.

She smiled up at him. “It means, for today, we should relax and enjoy the celebration.”

He sighed and nodded. “Of course. I just worry about you, lass.”

She gave him a nudge. “Soon that will be my husband’s job,” she teased him.

His face eased at that. “I think Erik has considered that his task since he first laid eyes on you in that dungeon cell,” he pointed out.

The walk down the stairs and across the hall seemed to glisten with supernatural beauty, every banner and candle flame taking on new significance. Then they came out the keep’s front doors, and Mary’s heart sang.

The entire staff was dressed in their Sunday best, looking up at her. Spring flowers decked every available surface, and banners drifted in the late afternoon sunshine. But all the beauty shimmered out of her awareness as her eyes drew to the chapel.

Erik was standing at the steps, his eyes steady on her, his face glowing with pride and love. She knew with absolute certainty that he was everything she could want in a husband. It was almost too much to take in, that he was to be hers.

Michael was moving at her side, guiding her, but all she could see was Erik growing closer, and the feel of his sturdy hand taking hers. The priest stood above them, reciting his sacraments, but it was only Erik that mattered, only his gaze on hers, the knowledge that they would be bound together and none could ever take them away from each other again.

There was cheering, and he drew her in to him, and the world fell away.

* * *

The celebration was at its height, Erik was spinning her around to a rousing dance, and at last she collapsed back into her chair, laughing in delight. Tina bobbled by with yet another mugful of mead, and Mary took a sip, wondering if she could burst from pleasure. Surely she had eaten enough figs, dried pears, candied apples, and other treats to last a lifetime. And it seemed more food was arriving!

A pair of ginger-haired teenage boys was coming forward with an elaborately engraved silver flask. One of them gave a flourishing bow. “And now, the traditional wedding drink!”

Erik gave a low laugh. “Ah yes, the special mead. Old Gemma is something of a goddess in this area. Legend has it that every woman who drinks the mead has her fertility multiplied.”

One of the boys nudged the other one. “We’re proof of that!”

Mary looked between them, laughing, realizing that they seemed to be twins. She put a hand on her abdomen, turning to Erik. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for twins,” she teased him.

His eyes shone, and he gave her a long kiss. She was breathless when he released her. His eyes held hers as he murmured, “I think you are ready for just about anything.”

A flush ran through her body, and suddenly she wanted to finish with the celebrations, to take her new husband up to their room and close the doors.

Husband.
A thrill ran through her, and she saw the answering heat in his eyes.

The boys held up the flask, shouting out, “Drink!”

The room took up the chant, and she smiled, reaching out her hand. The flask was cold, slick, and she removed the stopper. She tilted up the container, drinking down the liquid, noting the curiously lumpy texture to it. When she was done she stoppered the flask and handed it back to the pair.

One of them patted the other on the back, smiling. “Ding, dong, done.”

Mary’s world spiraled to a halt. Visions and sceneries spun in her head, sorting and resorting. Erik was staring at her in concern, asking her something, but she shook her head, grasping at the images.