Debra Kay Leland (9 page)

William straightened and drew his arm over his sweaty forehead as he spoke, “Tomorrow we shall go the village as usual, but this time we shall not barter.  We shall leave the grain for the villagers in hopes that our kindness shall yield us a goodly name among them
—and perhaps even purchase a little help.”

Phillip looked at his friend and nodded silently hardly listening as he watched him rub the side of his head again without realizing he had done so.  He worried at the sight, knowing what it meant—that soon another headache would take him…

William slumped
against the doorway of the barn and held his head tightly.  The pain pounding with every heartbeat, he looked out the door hoping to see his companions; but he was alone, and he knew that soon the pain would wrestle his very conscious thoughts from him.  He let himself slide down the door; holding his head as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his jaw clenched against wave after wave of torment, till darkness overtook him yet again…

“Phillip!  Good God, help me!” 
The red haired man jumped from the cart and rushed to the barn where Thomas knelt holding his friend in his arms. 
“Help me get him in the house!”

The two picked the tall man up and carried him to his bed; removing his shoes and belt carefully before they covered him up.  Thomas slumped down on the stool beside him
, his head in his hands. 
“Good God, how can this be happening to him?!” 
He looked up at his friend’s ashen color and blue tinged lips and shook his head slowly and whispered,
“I—I fear it shall take his very life from him…!”

Phillip nodded slowly. 
“…As—as do I…  But for his sake we must never speak it!  Let—let him live out his life in peace, Thomas…  Let him live without worry that death itself, stalks his very breathe…”

The taller man looked up into eyes that merely reflected his own worry before he slumped forward again.  “
Aye, for his sake, I shall not speak of it but with ye.  But, Phillip, if he suffers…”

The other man fought against tears that threatened to overtake him. 
“He—he is our friend, a knight, and the son of an Earl…  We shall not let him suffer.  I—I know of herbs that shall deaden the pain.  He shall not suffer, I give ye my word…”

The two took turns through the long night’s vigil, till come morning they noticed the thing release their friend yet again; his color returned, his harsh breathes had eased, and his body once more relaxed and only then did they know that he was yet destined to live another day.

William woke in the morning in his bed and frowned; he remembered being in the barn, though it was the last thing he remembered before the pain gripped him drawing him into darkness like it always did.  He sat up and smiled at his worried friends as if nothing had happened, though he knew full well it had.  “Do not look so worried, Phillip.  It was only a headache; ye act like a mother hen watching over her chicks.”

Phillip glanced at Thomas and forced a smile.  “Ock, and if I didn’t dote over ye, who would?”

He stood and handed William a bowl of porridge from the grain they had just harvested the day before.

“Porridge?”

“Aye, and if ye complain of my doting over ye again, I shall stir in a little chaff to boot.”

William laughed and spooned some into his mouth, then raised his hand with a smile as he spoke between bites.  “I swear—I shall not ever say another word.”

Phillip laughed and his concern for his friend fell behind a smile yet again…

Chapter Six

T
he sweet smell of wild flowers drifted in the soft autumn breeze, golden sunlight filtered through the still lush leaves barely kissed with the colors of fall...  Everything was perfect; but one thing, it was the first day of the week and the whole village knew it…!

Miranda hurried, hoping to somehow to miss Egan that day; even though she knew it was useless to try—she did it anyway.  If it weren’t for the English she would have begged off, for in truth the whole thing had begun to unnerve her.  She never knew exactly where he’d be waiting for her, never knew if she was being watched or not until he wished her to notice him, and she hated it!

He stood leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest stiffly waiting for her to round the bend.  He wanted her to know he was there, wanted her to know that he too had remembered and that he was not pleased.  He straightened as he saw her coming his way and almost smiled when he saw her hesitate because of him.  And though he had promised to hold his peace till she was older; she sorely tempted him even now…

She hesitated when she noticed him coming towards her; then looked down and continued on her
way purposefully ignoring him.

“Good day, lass.”

She paused yet again; then glanced up at him uneasily. 
“Ye should not be waiting for me, Egan, and ye know it well!”

He shrugged and turned to follow her.  “And why not?  ‘Tis the day that the Englishman comes to the village, is it not?  And I won’t have ye meet him alone; even if yur da thinks it right, I do not!”

“He has not come to bring trouble; ye have seen so for yurself.”

He raised one dark brow as he continued, “It matters not why he comes h
ere; he is still not welcome.”

She glanced at him again as she walked on stiffly. 
“And are ye to make trouble for him?”

He chose not to answer as he continued on beside her silently.  He would do what he needed to do with or without her permission.

As she came to the edge of the village she stopped; stepping away from Egan purposefully as he settled himself down comfortably onto the grassy knoll, his eyes never leaving her as he did so.
  “Will ye sit with me, lass?”

At his words she stepped even farther away, throwing him a hard frown as she spoke,
“Nay, I shall not.  Ye should not even be here talking to me and ye know it well, Egan Wallace!”

He laughed.  “Everyone in the village knows how I feel about ye
, ‘tis no secret I assure ye.”

She blushed and turned away; purposefully going to the opposite side of the roadway.  She stood there stiffly facing the road, trying hard not to even acknowledge his presence.  Yet he stared at her
, despite her wary withdrawal.

She turned on him then and scowled. 
“If—ye press yur suit, Egan Wallace, I swear I shall not even speak to thee!  I have no need of a man I cannot trust…!

His dark eyes narrowed at her well chosen words that were meant to prick his conscience; and they did.  He turned his head towards the road with a growl; pausi
ng before he lowered his voice. 
“…I only asked ye to sit with me; ye should know by now that I would never hurt ye.”

She blushed and looked down; knowing in her heart that of all the men in the village, she trusted him the least.  And yet to say so would only anger him more.
  But before she could find words to answer, the cart rounded the bend ahead of them.  Miranda straightened at the sight, wishing she felt more than worry for him; but she knew well what kind of welcome he was to receive this day.

Egan stood slowly his eyes never leaving her.  He stepped out warily and drew closer to the road purposefully making
his presence known.

William spotted him first and murmured, “Ah… and our friend, Egan, had come to greet us also this day.”

“More likely to run us through with his sword.  Do ye think there is need to worry?”

William laughed and threw his friend a sly look as he spoke,
“With the Welsh there is always need to worry.”

Phillip scowled and drew his eyes back to the scene in front of them; wishing there was some way to make William listen to his concerns before they
both found themselves in a fight, or worse.  But despite his own fears, he knew that William was determined to do this thing.

Miranda didn’t even dare offer them a friendly greeting; well aware of the dark eyes that now watched her as she said in a soft even tone, “Good day, English.”

William smiled and reined the horse in, not daring to meet her gaze either.  “Good day.  I have brought sacks of grain from the harvest…”  He said as he climbed down, walking around the cart without another word before both he and Phillip began to unload it, setting the heavy sacks down on the side of the road.  “… I have not come to barter this day.  Though, a favor I shall ask.  If there be men who would help us to harvest the grain before the
crop is lost; would ye send them to us?  They may have what they harvest, for in truth we have more than enough for the winter ahead.”

Her eyes widened at his words as she watched them lift sack after sack from the cart. 
“Ye—ye have not come to barter with it then?  But—the grain is worth more than all the produce ye have brought us before time…”

Egan came closer and opened a sack; thrusting his hand into the golden
grain and letting it filter through his strong tanned fingers
.  “’Tis clean and dry…”

William almost laughed.  “I would not have given it to thee if it were not edible.  As I have said, we have all we need for the winter; we
only lack help with the rest.”

Miranda stepped closer uneasily noticing that the men of the village who had been glancing their way;
had now begun to draw closer too.  “Is there much to be done then?”

“Aye, more than we are able to manage ourselves.  ‘Twould be a shame for it to just be waste
d when it could feed so many.”

Egan looked at him warily.
“…And—ye are just giving it to us then?!”

“Aye, to whoever needs it.  Tell thy men—just inquire of those that would help us.”  He dusted off his hands, then thrust one out for Egan to clasp.  The other man looked at it as if were a sin to touch it; yet in the end he took it warily, squeezing it with force as he glar
ed into William’s steady eyes.

But William met the force equally, unflinching as he held the man’s dark cold gaze intently.  “We need the help, Egan.  I won’t have the grain fall to the ground and be wasted.  I give thee my word that naught sh
all happen while ye are there.”

Egan glared at him with narrowed eyes; then nodded. 
“’Tis a kind gesture, but if ye plan to attack or betray us, we shall slit yur throat and leave ye for dead—English or not!”

“Just bring the men—arm them if ye like.”

Egan nodded silently; then released his hand.

William did likewise; then walked past him towards the cart not bothering to look at Miranda as he spoke.  “Tell thy father I bid him a good day, lass.”

She didn’t dare answer as she quickly glanced at the men who had now gathered around them, then turned and walked away hoping not one of them took notice of her leaving—especially not Egan.  She hurried around the bend and to their farm; glancing over her shoulder as she went, unsure if he would follow or not.  He had been so intense today; she only hoped that she had warned him off enough that he would not press her so again.  It scared her—no, he scared her, and each day he became harder and harder to handle…

Egan may have been handsome, but he was a hard and angry man and one used to getting his own way.  The other men of the village knew better than to cross him—everyone did, everyone except her father, thank goodne
ss.  For Egan himself knew better than to anger her father, for the elders of the village respected Alden Blair.  In truth, that was the only reason that Egan wasn’t able to force her into a marriage and they both knew it.

As she neared the barn she stopped to pet her father’s dog who had come
to greet her; the animal wagged his tail and looked up at her appreciatively.  She stooped and scratched his ears as she glanced again behind her towards the village, her thoughts on what had just happened there.  The man never looked at her, never met her shy glances, never treated her to a rich warm smile as he did with others.  Secretly, she dreamed that he would, just once; and that he would meet her shy glances and gift her with his warm smile and then hear his strong deep voice saying her name.  She closed her eyes at the thought she knew she shouldn’t be thinking in the first place, but couldn’t help but do it anyway…

W
hen they returned to the farm, they joined Thomas in the fields.  They took up the sickle also, cutting down the wheat and bundling it as they went.  It was slow work; nearly half the field was yet to be harvested, and three more like it.