Archangel (13 page)

Romney cocked his head. “Like a guardian angel?”

Gart snorted softly and straightened in the saddle, a grin on his face. “Exactly like a guardian angel.”

“You do not look like an angel.”

Gart lifted an eyebrow. “Have you seen one?”

Romney shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But the priests say that angels have a golden light around their head and carry harps. Your head is dark and you carry a sword.”

Gart’s lips twitched with a smile. “Archangels carry a sword. Perhaps I am the archangel Gabriel.”

“I thought you did not like to be called Gabriel,” Emberley whispered with a smile.

He wriggled his eyebrows at her. “That is because archangels do not wish to go around announcing themselves to everyone. Only to special people.”

He winked at her and she giggled, shaking her head reproachfully at him. Romney fell silent, contemplating that particular bit of information, as they entered the outskirts of the village.  It was the day before Sunday and the town was busy with people -travelers, customers and merchants.  But what Emberley had completely forgotten was that it was the time of year for the annual
Obby Oss
festival, and the town was absolutely packed as they traveled deeper into the berg. 

With all of the noise and bustle, Lacy and Orin woke up, and Emberley tried to get a better look at what was going on around them. The entire town was jammed.

Even Gart was impressed by the amount of people in town.  He couldn’t see all of the commotion from their vantage point on the road, only as they traveled deeper into the town.  There were people everywhere.

“Is it always this busy?” he asked.

Emberley shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “I completely forgot that it is the time of year for the annual
Obby Oss
festival. These people must be here for the faire.”

Gart looked at her. “
Obby Oss
? What is that?”

She grinned when Romney and Orin caught sight of mummers and began yelling. “They will parade a wooden horse around town and it is supposed to bring good fortune,” she raised her voice over her children’s screaming. “There will also be food and entertainment. Usually, they have a joust exhibition.  It is quite exciting.  With everything that has happened over the past few days, I completely forgot about it.”

He could see the mummer that the children were yelling about; the man was dressed in colorful clothing with wooden shoes and a big, colorful cap.  He had four white dogs around him, doing tricks. Gart looked at the boys, nearly falling out of the carriage in their excitement, and he called a halt to the party in the middle of the busy street.

Climbing off his muzzled warhorse, he handed the animal off to one of his men and went to the carriage. He reached up and pulled Romney out, but Orin didn’t want to wait so he practically jumped on Gart in his haste to get out.  Gart lowered both boys to the muddy ground, telling them not to run off while he reached inside again and pulled out Brendt.  Now all three boys were at his feet, dancing around with anticipation, as Gart opened the cab door to help Emberley out.

 She handed him the baby, who latched on to his big neck and began kissing all over his helm because she couldn’t get to his face.   With Lacy in one arm, Gart reached out and took Emberley’s hand, helping her down from the carriage.

“Mama!” Romney implored. “The
man.
”

Emberley pointed to the mummer. “Go and see him,” she said. “But do not run off. And pay attention to where….”

Unfortunately, she didn’t get it out of her mouth fast enough.  Romney and Orin tore off, immediately crashing into a well-dressed man who was emerging from the ointment broker’s stall. 

Emberley gasped as the boys bounced off the man, knocked the sack out of his hand, and continued running.  The fat man with the big jowls teetered back, watching the boys run away.  Brendt, who hadn’t crashed into the man, zipped past and the outraged old man tried to grab him. Thankfully, Brendt went by untouched.

“See here,” he scolded, turning to see Emberley and Gart standing a few feet away. “Are those your unruly children? You should teach them manners!”

Embarrassed, Emberley opened her mouth to apologize but Gart handed her the baby, pulled off his helm, and got in the man’s face.  He towered over the fat old man, big and powerful and intimidating.  Surely there were no more frightening things in life than an enraged knight, and Gart went over and above simply frightening. He was red in the face and terrifying.

“If I were you, I would watch who I gave advice to on the subject of child rearing,” he growled. “Those boys are clever, brilliant and resourceful and perhaps next time, you should pay attention to where you are walking.  And if you ever make a grab for one of those boys again, you will draw away a bloody stump. Is this in any way unclear?”

The old man paled dramatically, absolutely terrified. He could only nod his head before stumbling backwards, collecting his fallen sack, and shuffling off as fast as his tubby legs would carry him.  Gart watched the man run off, his green eyes hard and furious, before returning his attention to Emberley.  He gazed at her a moment and an apparent change came over him; he calmed dramatically and the fire went out of his eyes.

Without a word, he took his helm from her, tossed it into the carriage, and took Lacy from her arms.  In silence, he carried the little girl over to the mummer where her brothers were being entertained.

Emberley watched him with astonishment.  She had never in her life seen anyone defend her children, not even their father, so it was something of a shock to see Gart actually step into the role of protector. Even though he had declared his intentions to them all, to be their protector, to see him in action was something to behold.

But in the same breath, his defense of her children touched her like nothing she had ever known. It softened her, swelling her heart with gratitude and appreciation. It also broke down the barriers that were trying so hard to keep her infatuation at bay.  The barriers were coming down and she could feel herself weakening, knowing how horribly wrong it was but not particularly carrying.  She had wished all her life for a man like Gart Forbes. It broke her heart to know that what she wished for could never be.

Silently, she went to where Gart and her children were standing, watching the mummer with his trained dogs.  The group was watching one of the dogs walk on his front paws, laughing loudly at the antics.  As she strolled up, Gart had to reach out a hand to pull Brendt away from the dog. The little boy very much wanted to pick it up.  She stood next to Gart, watching her children laugh, when she began to feel his gaze upon her.  She never even had to look at him; she just knew he was looking at her. 

Without a word, she slipped her hand into the crook of his right elbow. She could make the excuse that she was only touching her daughter, cradled in the man’s enormous right arm, but that wasn’t the truth.  The truth was that she just wanted to touch Gart.  Greedily, secretly, she stood there and held him.

“Mama!” Orin suddenly turned to her. “Where are thweets?”

She smiled at her lazy-tongued son. “I am not sure,” she said, looking around. “We will find some, not to worry. Are you finished watching the dogs?”

The boys all turned to her, nodding eagerly, and she finally dared to look up at Gart.  His gaze was steady upon her, his smile faint but unmistakable. He turned to his men and ordered them to find someplace nearby to park the wagon.  Ten men at arms broke off from the group and went in search of a rest area while Gart, Emberley, the children and another ten men at arms continued down the avenue.

The day was brilliant as they walked down the dirt street, avoiding piles of horse dung and pools of animal urine as they walked.  Gart carried the baby, who had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her cheek hugged up against his.  Emberley offered to take the little girl from him, twice, but he refused. He looked rather content so she didn’t press. When she dropped her hand from the crook of his elbow, he switched Lacy to the opposite arm and reached out to take Emberley’s hand with his free hand.

His enormous mitt closed in over her soft, warm fingers. Startled, feeling her chest swell with excitement at what could be considered an intimate action, she held his hand tightly. She was thrilled beyond measure, living greedily in her secret little world where Gart belonged to her and there was no Julian, no horrors of a brutal husband. But her secret dreams were shattered when Brendt took off running. Gart quickly handed Lacy to her mother and took off after the little boy.

Romney and Orin stopped before a woodworker as Gart chased Brendt down.  The two older boys were fascinated with the wooden toys the man had on display – little carts and wooden horses, wooden shields and wooden swords. They were particularly in love with the swords and Emberley had to repeatedly tell them not to touch them.  Unhappy, they began to beg and whine and she turned away from them, unwilling to give in to their demands.  Across the avenue, she spied Gart approaching with Brendt tucked under one arm.

Brendt was squealing because Gart was carrying him sideways, like a parcel.  The child was delighted, giggling, and Gart turned him upside down and pretended to plant his head in the mud once they reached his mother.  Brendt giggled uncontrollably until Gart turned him right-side up and put him on his feet.

“No more running away,” Gart wagged a stern finger in his face. “Do you hear me? If you run off again, I will not buy you any sweets.”

Brendt’s giggles were gone and he nodded seriously.  Gart gave him a lingering look just for emphasis as he turned to Emberley.

She was smiling at him. “Where was he running to?” she asked.

He threw a thumb back over his shoulder. “There is a man over there with a goat that was dancing on its hind legs.”

Emberley’s features relaxed in understanding. “He loves goats,” she sighed, then pointed to the wood worker where her three boys were now gleefully inspecting the goods. “I have a bigger problem now. This man makes little wooden swords and shields and I fear I shall not get the boys away from this stall without great drama.”

Gart didn’t think it was a problem at all.  He purchased three little wooden shields and three little wooden swords over Emberley’s protests.  Thrilled to be well armed knights, Romney, Orin and Brendt began attacking each other before Gart had fully paid for everything. Giving the wood worker a tidy sum for the little toys, Gart stilled the three combatants before the situation got out of hand. He could see that they were already far too enthusiastic about killing each other.  When Brendt refused to stop, he pulled the toy sword away and held it out of his reach so he had the boy’s attention.

“Now,” he said firmly. “Along with these weapons comes responsibility.  You must not hit each other in the head with them. You must not try to stab each other when them.  Keep them away from your eyes. The first time someone gets hurt because of carelessness, I will take away everyone’s toys and hold them until such time as I feel you are ready to accept the responsibility again. Is that clear?”

“How long would you keep them?” Romney demanded.

“Years.”

Gart said it so seriously that Emberley bit off a smile, watching the distressed expressions on her sons’ faces.  Romney and Orin looked at each other apprehensively before returning their attention to the enormous knight.

“We will be careful,” Romney said.

“Promith!” Orin piped up.

Gart cocked an eyebrow at them. “Very well,” he handed the sword back to Brendt. “Behave yourselves.”

Properly subdued, the boys took their toys and followed their mother and Gart down the avenue.  Emberley let her grin burst forth when she knew the boys couldn’t see her.