Kingdom Come (28 page)

She regarded him a moment, thinking her husband was a far greater man than she had suspected. She had known the man was a friend of Richard’s and a great warrior, but it seemed to go beyond that and it was a stunning realization.  But along with those thoughts came something else.

“I’m just curious,” she said carefully. “How do you feel about a king who has never really lived in England? Doesn’t he live in Aquitaine?”

Kieran smiled ironically. “I serve England’s king. It does not matter where he lives. He is still my king. And my friend.”

She smiled faintly and let the subject drop. Any more questions out of her mouth might sound like a challenge and she was in no way challenging him.   But she was increasingly concerned about the rival knights on the opposite side of the room.

“So what about those guys?” she nodded her head in their direction. “Are they going to try and attack you?”

He smiled. “I doubt it,” he said. “I’ve not given them a reason to.”

“Do they really need a reason in this day and age?”

He kissed her on the tip of her nose, turning her around by the shoulders as the tavern keeper approached. The man was round and surprisingly well dressed, with a bald head and bright blue eyes. He smiled happily at Kieran.

“My lord Dykemoor,” he greeted. “It has been a long time. Praise God that you have returned from the Holy Land.”

Kieran nodded in response to the man’s greeting. “I am here for the night and require three rooms,” he said. “My wife requires a bath and your finest meal.”

The man nodded eagerly, his jowls shaking. “Of course, m’lord,” he began yelling to the cluster of women behind him, who bolted into action. Then he turned back to Kieran. “Please sit and enjoy drink while we prepare your rooms.”

Kieran began pulling off his gloves, pointing to two tables near the window. “Let us sit,” he said to his wife, to Yusef. But he spoke over his shoulder to the tavern keeper. “Bring food with the drink. My wife is famished and requires pickled lemons.”

He was smirking at Rory, who made a face at him as they went to sit.  She was increasingly famished these days, not strangely, mostly for pickled lemons.  Kieran had little difficulty locating pickled lemons in Paris but he’d not found any since that time and knew he’d better find her some or she would likely skin him alive. It was all she talked about.

They took the two tables near the window.  Yusef and Kaleef sat with Rory and Kieran while the boys sat at a small table that leaned dangerously.  The youngsters had big, wide eyes at the tavern and big, wide eyes when the inn keeper brought them a big loaf of bread all their own.  Kaleef and Yusef could not drink the fermentation of grapes or wheat, so the inn keeper provided boiled fruit juice instead.  Rory wanted it, too; she wasn’t too keen on drinking wine or ale these days.  He brought her some with rose petals floating on the top.

In the next several minutes, the inn keeper and his daughter brought bread, butter, some kind of fruit and honey compote, mutton that was stewed in some kind of gravy, and boiled vegetables. They were so boiled that it was difficult to tell what they were. But the man came through in the clutch; he presented Rory with pickled onions, peas and cucumbers, which he called briny vegetables, and something else brand new to England.

He brought forth a big earthenware jug, sealed, which he opened at the table; Rory peered inside, her head blocking out everyone else’s view of what was inside. Whatever it was smelled both sweet and sour, so she stuck her fingers in and pulled out a citrus segment.  She smelled it; it smelled very sweet and tart.  Popping it in her mouth, she crowed with delight; it was an orange that had been soaked in sweet wine, honey and cinnamon.  It was absolutely delicious and she wrapped her arms around the jug and refused to give it back to the inn keeper. He graciously left it while Kieran laughed at her.

While everyone else ate mutton and bread, Rory ate pickled onions, peas and cucumbers and the delightful orange segments.  She held out a piece of orange to Kieran, dropping it in his open mouth and giggling when he pretended to eat her fingers.  He chewed, nodding with approval.

“Delicious,” he lifted an eyebrow at her as she shoved more in her mouth. “For a woman who swore she would not eat anything of my time, you are proving yourself to be a liar.”

Rory giggled, licking her fingers of the juice. “I know,” she agreed. “I don’t care. Can we take this with us?”

Kieran shook his head at her, chuckling. “If you wish.”

She did. She shared her fruits with the boys, who had never had such treats.  David in particular wanted more but Bud was seemingly satisfied with what he had. In fact, the boys had more food between them than they had ever known in their lives, eating until they were stuffed.  When the meal was almost over, Kieran called Bud over to his table.

The boy came obediently and stood next to Kieran expectantly.  Kieran held out a big cup of wine and the boy looked at him questioningly. Kieran smiled and put it in the lad’s hands.  Bud understood the honor and the implication and took a big drink, smacking his lips. Rory looked up from her oranges long enough to scowl.

“Kieran,” she scolded. “He’s just a kid. Don’t give him wine.”

Kieran lifted an eyebrow at her. “He has grown up at St. Victor’s,” he told her frankly. “He has been drinking wine since he was born. Is that not correct, Bud?
Vous avez bu du vin puisque vous étiez bébé.”

Bud nodded eagerly, smacked his lips, and took another big drink of Kieran’s wine.  Kieran laughed at the boy, took his cup back, and indicated for Bud to go back to his brother.  Bud wiped his mouth, smiled, and retreated.

Rory watched the exchange, shaking her head. “You’re going to turn him into a child alcoholic,” she muttered. “We’re going to have to put him in rehab.”

Kieran wasn’t sure what an alcoholic was, or rehab, so he just grinned.  “You worry overly, Mother.”

She smirked at him, turning back to her beloved orange segments. She was thrilled to be eating fruit; the diet of the Medieval period was sorely lacking in fresh produce so she was thrilled to have something citrus-y.  As she happily licked her fingers, laughing at David when he tried her briny onions and cucumbers and puckered up his face, she suddenly noticed that Kieran’s expression had turned to stone. The man was looking over her head, suddenly rising to his full height. At six feet six inches, he was an incredibly imposing man.  Startled, Rory turned around to see what he was looking at.

Somerset’s knights had risen from the shadows and were moving across the room towards them.  Rory’s jovial mood was gone as Yusef bolted to his feet because Kieran had, prepared for a fight.  Frightened, Rory stood up as Kieran pulled her back, out of the way.  She scooted around the table and went to the boys, pulling them back out of the line of fire.  Her eyes were wide with terror as the four Somerset knights approached Kieran.

“Hage,” the knight in the lead spoke as if Kieran’s name was the vilest word in the English language. “I thought it to be you when you walked in the door but I could not be positive. I am not sure if you are aware, but it seems that trained beasts followed you back from The Levant.”

His men laughed rudely at Yusef and Kaleef’s expense.  Kieran didn’t show any emotion whatsoever.

“You would know something of trained beasts, of course,” he said. “You married one.”

The knight’s smile vanished. “I shall be sure and inform my wife’s father what you truly think if her,” he growled. “Welsh warlords are not known for their understanding. Once slandered, you make an enemy for life.”

“I shall take that chance.”

The knight regarded Kieran with his dark, wicked eyes before turning his gaze to Yusef.  He looked at the man as one would look at a snake. “He does not belong with good Christians,” he spoke to Kieran. “I am offended by his presence. He and those like him should be in the livery with the rest of the animals.”

“He stays.”

Rory watched the exchange with growing fear. It was Kieran and Yusef against four fully armed knights.  It wasn’t like she could call nine-one-one or run for the cops; there were no cops in this time. Law was in the hands of the people for the most part. These men could kill Kieran and there would be no justice, no one brought to trial. But more than that, she would be without him. The man who was literally a part of her soul would be gone.  She would be dead along with him.

And the baby… he would never know the strong, wise, amazing man who was his father. Panic began to set in to Rory’s mind, thinking quickly. Like two dogs preparing to fight, she wanted to turn a hose on them. But there were no hoses.  Her heart began to thump faster and faster and her palms began to sweat.   Wild thoughts began to pop into her head to create a distraction; she took the first thought that popped into her head. There wasn’t time for second or third options.  She nudged Bud; when he turned around, she silently urged him to follow her lead.

Leaping onto the small, rickety table that the boys had eaten their meal on, she began to stomp and clap in rhythm… stomp, stomp, clap…stomp, stomp, clap….  When the boys picked up her rhythm, she suddenly yelled to the crowded room.

“Do it with me!” she shouted. Stomp, stomp clap… stomp, stomp, clap. “Do it loud!”

Bud was the first one to take her lead strongly; he jumped up onto the nearest table, stepping in someone’s meal as he did so.  He was stomping and clapping as loud as he could. David was, too, stomping and clapping fearfully because Rory and Bud were. The kid had no idea what was going on. Rory drew on her cheerleading roots, four years of the extracurricular activity, and the familiar chant that echoed through a million high school stadiums on Friday nights throughout the United States. It was the only distraction she could come up with and she began to sing out the words.

“Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo' face, you big disgrace; kickin' your can all over the place, singin’ we will, we will rock you! We will, we will rock you!”

By this time, she had the entire tavern stunned, watching her as if she had lost her mind.  But it had worked the desired effect; Kieran and the Somerset knights simply stared at her, no longer focused on each other. 

Rory jumped off the table and began waving her hands, encouraging people to stomp and clap with her.  Although they were timid at first, it was well-known that Medieval people enjoyed entertainment and they enjoyed participating in songs. They were always up for a good time. This was a heck of a song and in little time, she had the entire tavern stomping and clapping. 

Thrilled that her audience was with her, Rory leapt onto the nearest table and belted out the second verse.

“Buddy you're a young man hard man, shoutin' in the street gonna take on the world some day, you got blood on yo' face, you big disgrace, Wavin' your banner all over the place. We will we will rock you, singin', we will we will rock you….”

She was able to get the crowd to pitch in on the chorus. Bud, picking it up quickly, was singing at the top of his lungs, running around the room like a miniature cheerleader, very surprising for the usually reserved boy. The entire room was stomping and clapping so hard that flotsam was floating down from the beams on the ceiling.   Feeling the power from her audience, Rory launched in to the last verse.

“Buddy you're an old man poor man, pleadin' with your eyes, gonna make you some peace some day. You got mud on your face, you big disgrace, somebody better put you back into your place.We will we will rock you! Everybody! We will we will rock you!”

The energy level of the room was reaching titanic proportions. Kieran was watching, rather dumbfounded, and two of the Somerset knights were even stomping and clapping along with her.  The crowd was going crazy for Rory and her cheerleader-on-caffeine tactics. But suddenly, she threw her hands up to immediately silence the crowd.  After a few lingering stomps and claps, they shut up, a hushed silence falling over the crowd to see what she was going to do next.