Archangel (14 page)

“You are very good with children,” Emberley commented, eyeing her boys as they attempted not to hurt each other with their new toys. “You must have received experience somewhere.”

Gart shook his head. “No experience.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

She looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “Then you have a natural talent for it and will make an excellent father,” she said. “Your children will be very lucky.”

He looked at her, feeling strangely sad at that statement. He’d only spent four days with Emberley and her children but it felt as if he ‘d spent an eternity with them. He fought down the familiar feeling of wishing they belonged to them, struggling against the sadness it provoked.

“Perhaps someday,” he said quietly.

Emberley sensed his depressed mood but she wasn’t sure why. She shifted the baby from one arm to the other as they walked.

“I always wondered if Erik would have married and had children,” she said softly. “Do you not want to get married someday, Gart?”

He sighed faintly, turning to glance at the boys when he heard wood against wood.  The three of them froze when they saw that Gart’s attention was on him and they tried to look very innocent.  Gart eyes narrowed at them, although it was without force, before returning his attention to Emberley.

“To be truthful, I have not thought much about it,” he replied. “My vocation makes marriage difficult at this time.”

“But if the right woman presented herself, you would consider it, would you not?” she pressed.  “You really should be married.”

He looked at her. “Why does this concern you so much?”

She shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Because you are a good man and would make a wonderful husband. I do not want to see you waste the opportunity.”

He didn’t like this subject.  It made him want to say things to her that were inappropriate and painful.  He fully realized that the only woman he wanted was already married and it was a sickening awareness.  He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Look,” he pointed to a merchant across the avenue, diverting her off the subject. “That merchant has piles of fabric. Did you not want to purchase some for the boys?”

Emberley knew he was shifting the subject. Either he hated the thought of marriage in general or he truly didn’t care.  So she allowed him to direct her towards the fabric merchant, making sure the boys were following her as she walked. Just as their group crossed the busy avenue, the fat man who had nearly crashed into the boys minutes earlier suddenly appeared.  He had several soldiers with him, pointing to Gart and his group.

“Him!” he howled. “He threatened me. Punish him!”

People began screaming and running as Gart and his soldiers geared for a fight.  As Gart’s men began to strategically position themselves, Gart grabbed the three boys in one arm and Emberley in the other, and shoved them into the merchant stall that contained the material.

 It was crowded and dark inside, smelling like damp wool. Emberley turned her frightened face to him but he cut her off before she had a chance to speak.

“Stay here,” he commanded. “Do not come out until I tell you to.”

Eyes filled with terror, Emberley barely had a chance to nod before he was unsheathing his broadsword and charging out into the street.  Wisely, Emberley gathered the boys and herded them as far away from the door as she could because she didn’t want them to get hurt should the fighting veer in their direction.  They had never experienced a battle in their lives and she wanted to protect them as much as she could. Things like this never happened in their world. But as they stood there in a frightened huddle, Emberley’s curiosity got the best of her. Handing Lacy over to Romney, she crept towards the open door as the sounds of metal upon metal filled the air.

Emberley spied Gart immediately.  He was without his helm, as it was still in the carriage, his massive broadsword arcing in the morning sunshine like the sword of an avenging angel. The
Archangel Gabriel
, he had called himself. It was the only time she had ever heard him refer to himself by his given name. As she watched him aggressively go after his opponents, she began to see that it was the truth.  He fought with the power of heaven, embattled now with two men.  He was talented and strong, making short work of the men fighting against him.

Gart was precise in his actions; he held his sword with two hands, lunging at his opponents and then spinning away when they engaged him, turning a full circle and coming up behind the men and shoving them to the ground.  One man he had been forced to kill when the man brought his sword up at Gart’s head, but the second man surrendered, wounded, and rolled off to the side.  Gart kicked the man far away to ensure he would not rise before returning his attention to the battle in the street.

He had an innate sense of a fight.  He knew what his opponent was thinking and he counteracted accordingly.  There was no wasted motion with the man; every thrust and every parry had a purpose. He locked swords with one burly soldier, spun around and threw an armored elbow into the man’s face, sending him crashing in an explosion of blood. It was a spectacular and brutal move.

Emberley continued to watch him, entranced at the power and skill of the man, when the fat old man who had started the conflict suddenly appeared in the doorway. Before Emberley could move away, he grabbed her by the hair.

“I have her!” he shouted, pulling her out of the doorway. “I have your wife, knight! If you value your life, you will….”

Before he could finish, Romney and Orin rushed at the old man with their wooden swords.  Orin poked the man in the thigh but Romney rammed his sword straight into the man’s groin because it was at the young boy’s arm-level. The old man howled and released Emberley, falling to the ground with his hands over his privates.  Romney and Orin pounced, beating the man about the head with their wooden swords and shields.

“You cannot hurt my mother!” Romney was screaming as he hit the man in the face with his wooden shield. “You leave her alone!”

As Emberley caught her balance and went to grab her boys, an enormous body was suddenly in between her and her sons.  Gart, bloody sword in one hand, reached down with his left arm and scooped both Romney and Orin up into his grasp.  He whirled on Emberley and handed her the boys in one swift movement.

“Are you well?” he demanded as he deposited the boys against her.  “Did he hurt you?”

Emberley shook her head fearfully. “I am fine.”

His green eyes were in battle mode but she swore she saw them soften, just for a moment, as he gazed at her.  Then he was back at the soldiers who were attacking him, kicking men away and using his enormous fists to punch them in the face.

 Emberley stood in the doorway, holding the boys against her as she watched Gart dispatch at least six men personally.  The others were put away by his soldiers and those that were left simply faded away.  A pair of them reached down to collect the old man, still wallowing in the dirt, and dragged him away from the scene.   As quickly as it started, the battle finished with an eerie and uncomfortable silence to follow.

For several long moments, no one spoke or moved. People began poking their heads out of stalls where they had run for cover, eventually emerging into the sunshine and staying clear of the four dead and wounded soldiers that lay in the muddy street.  Gart whistled loudly between his teeth, sending his men into a defensive stance to ensure that no one else was left to fight as he went to Emberley and the children.

They were still huddled in the doorway of the fabric merchant, five pairs of big blue eyes gazing up at him.  Gart was in battle mode, taking a deep breath to calm himself, as he sheathed his broadsword. His focus was on the boys.

“You,” he pointed at Romney. “That was a very brave thing you did to protect your mother but you could have gotten yourself killed. In the future, you will let me do the fighting since I am bigger than you are and presumably better prepared. Is that understood?”

Romney looked both confused and flattered. “I was very brave?”

Gart nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Very,” he concurred. “But you must know that it would upset me greatly if you were injured.  You do not want to upset me, do you?”

Romney shook his head and Gart winked at him. “Good lad,” he looked at Orin. “You, too; it would hurt me very much if you were injured. Although you are brave like your brother, you will not do that again. Is that clear?”

Orin, his eyes wide, nodded seriously.  With that business settled, Gart finally turned his attention to Emberley.

She was gazing back at him with warmth and appreciation.  Gart didn’t even know what to say to her; it was the most wonderful expression he had ever seen. For lack of a better response, he simply cupped her face and kissed her gently on the cheek to assure her all was well. The smell of her filled his nostrils, the delicate scent of flowers and skin, but he would not let himself dwell on it.  It hurt his heart knowing she could never be his.

Emberley didn’t let him go so quickly. As he kissed her and pulled away, she grasped his face with both hands and planted a warm kiss right on his mouth. Their eyes met for a moment and sparks flew, lightning bolts that filled them both with indescribable sensations of excitement and attraction. Seized with the moment, Gart forgot himself and moved in for another kiss, but Emberley backed away as if suddenly realizing what she had done.

“Are… are you all right, Gart?” she asked, refusing to look at him. “You were not injured, were you?”

Heart thumping painfully against his ribs, Gart stood there and stared at her. “Nay,” he said after a moment, licking his lips to see if he could still taste her. “I am not injured.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure.”

Lacy suddenly began to whine, holding her arms up to her mother, and Emberley picked the little girl up.  She still wouldn’t look at Gart.

“If you have no objections, then, I will look for fabric for the boys,” she said, turning for the merchant’s hut. “I will only be a moment.”

Gart impulsively grabbed her arm before she could get away. “Em…,” he began.

She turned to him, lifting her eyes, and he swore he could see emotions rolling through the dark blue depths. The lightning bolts were still there, rolling like distant thunder. He could feel them as he gazed into her sweet face.

“Aye?” she asked, somewhat reluctantly.

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, realizing that four pairs of young eyes were gazing up at him.  He didn’t want to say anything unsuitable or make a fool of himself.  But he swore, at that moment, that this wasn’t the end of the lightning, not by a long shot. He wanted to feel it again.

“You…,” he started, cleared his throat, and continued. “Are you sure you were not injured when he grabbed you?”’

She smiled faintly. “Nay,” she said. “I am so sorry, Gart. We did not mean to cause trouble.”

His eyebrows rose. “Cause trouble? Why would you say that?”

“Because the boys ran into that man,” she explained haltingly, trying to voice her thoughts. “He was rightfully angry. The boys should have been more careful and I did not mean that we should cause trouble.”

Gart looked down at the boys, all gazing up at him with something between open curiosity and abject admiration. He put an enormous hand on Romney’s head.

“You did not cause trouble,” he said softly, looking back at Emberley. “It was an accident and our fat friend reacted poorly. I would not worry overly.”