Authors: Julianne Lee
Tags: #Kidnapping, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Married people, #Scotland, #General, #Fantasy, #Children - Crimes against, #Fighter pilots, #Fiction, #Time travel
Knight's Blood (38 page)
“I wish to be your partner. I want to accompany you on your campaigns. Fight by your side. Be with you and be your equal.”
“No. You know that can’t happen.”
“As you keep reminding me, I’m a countess now. Wives of powerful men do it all the time.”
“Yeah, when their husbands are dead or incapacitated. They take over when there’s nobody else to do it, and more often than not they’re allowed to hold the power because they’re a placeholder for a minor male heir. We don’t have one of those yet. Women accompany their husbands on campaign, but not as knights and rarely in armor. And those who have fought only bring ridicule on their husbands. It would be shameful for me to let you do this. I’d be laughed all the way back to Hungary.”
“Then let them laugh. And let them blame it on your Hungarian side. You’re a strong enough man to take it. You’re powerful enough.”
“Ha. Very tricky, Lindsay, but I’m not stupid. I know exactly how strong I am, and how strong I am not. It would be very difficult to withstand that sort of crap.”
“But not impossible. And I can fight. You know I can. If I’m an asset, then who’s to complain of it?”
Alex thought about that. She had a point. Unlike other women he’d seen on campaign, Lindsay could fight like a man. She would be a significant asset. But there was one thing more he wanted to know. “Why do you even
want
to do this? You never liked fighting before. You used to be on my case all the time for being bloodthirsty. How come you’re all of a sudden hot to kill people?”
want
to do this? You never liked fighting before. You used to be on my case all the time for being bloodthirsty. How come you’re all of a sudden hot to kill people?”
That caught her, and her shoulders slumped as she thought about her reply. “I don’t really know. Except that when I was looking for my . . . looking for Trefor, I knew I had to do it. Fighting was the only way to accomplish my goal. I never liked it, and still won’t, but it enabled me to be taken seriously. I was respected for it, even after Reubair’s men learned I was a woman. And Alex,” she regarded him from beneath her brow, “I was respected in a way I never experienced even in the twenty-first century. For a while, before they began to revert to hormonal dogs, I was accepted into their midst as one of them. And I liked that. I liked it a lot.”
“You don’t think my men are hormonal dogs? ’Cause I can tell you right now they are.”
“But they are also your men. Not likely to make passes at your wife.”
Alex grunted. Hard to argue with that.
He drew a deep, calming breath, let it out slowly, then said, “Only one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If you come along, you can’t fight as an equal. The men would never stand for that.” She started to protest, but he silenced her with a raised finger. “You know they won’t. It’s too close to where they live. A female knight would be too much a threat to who they think they are.”
“And of course we’re not talking about you.”
He frowned and bypassed the remark. “If you come, on the battlefield you will have the status of a squire.”
“I’m a knight.”
“You’re a woman, and if you go around telling people Robert knighted you, you will embarrass the king.” He leaned over to get in her face. “We . . . don’t . . . want . . . that.” Then he straightened and continued. “If you come along, indeed, if you’re going to function at all in my affairs, you’ll need to take a secondary role in all of it.” She opened her mouth again, and he rode over her. “Like it or not, fair or not, it’s the way things are around here. You will be my other half, and in the eyes of everyone around us my lesser half, because that is the way they think and I can’t change that. You will be my advisor, but not in the presence of other people. You can listen in on whatever suits you, but you will not speak until we are alone. You will never dispute with me in the presence of others. You will present a united front with me before everyone, for the slightest crack between us will invite a wedge from anyone who would cause me trouble. Cause
us
trouble. Do you get what I’m saying? Do you understand what must be done for you to get what you’re asking for?”
us
trouble. Do you get what I’m saying? Do you understand what must be done for you to get what you’re asking for?”
She considered that, and he waited for her to think it through. She was a smart woman, and he had faith she would see his position. Then she said, “I understand. I know I’m asking to put you in an awkward position.”
“And we need to do whatever we can to mitigate the inherent problems.”
She nodded. “Then you agree with me.”
“Agree that you should ride into battle? No. But I can see you won’t be happy unless you do.”
She went to him and slipped her arms around his neck. “I won’t be completely sanguine until both of us are retired from fighting entirely. But I’ll be less unhappy if I’m with you when you charge the enemy. I couldn’t live knowing I’m guaranteed to outlive you.”
Alex remembered the look on his mother’s face when he’d told her he was going into the Navy like his father, and now Lindsay had those same wide, nearly tearful eyes and pressed-closed mouth. Back then he’d resented Mom’s lack of faith he would stay alive, but after more than a decade of military life, combat flying, and medieval battle, he knew better. Lindsay was right. They’d both been right; he’d chosen a life that would surely end in an ugly, precipitous manner. He slipped his arms around her waist and she kissed him. Warm and sweet, soft and delicious. He let his hand slip down just far enough to feel the beginning of her cleft, where he knew it made her crazy to feel his fingers. Her arms slipped from his neck and she went to untie his trews.
“If I were to accompany you, you wouldn’t have to make it all the way home for me to be there for you.” She reached inside the trews for him and squeezed. “After a battle the earl and his squire could retire to their tent to comfort each other.”
He reached for the fastenings of her dress. “Clean blood from each other.”
“Celebrate that we’re still both alive.” She let his trews drop to the floor for him to step out of them. He went to pick her up, but she held his hands and said, “Uh-uh. Tub first.”
Alex groaned and tried to kiss her and encourage her toward the bed, but she ducked away.
“Tub. Scrape clean the crusty places.”
He grunted, and stepped into the lukewarm tub. It was tiny; just large enough for him to sit on the stone placed inside it, with his knees bent nearly to the surface of the water. And it teetered a little on the stone floor, so the water sloshed when he moved. Lindsay took the small pot from the fire and poured some more hot water from it to warm the tub. Alex reached for her skirt and slipped his hand up underneath it. Not for the first time he appreciated the custom of no underwear on women.
“Too bad this thing isn’t big enough for both of us.”
“You’re the earl. And you know something about engineering. Build a bath house.”
He made a thoughtful humming noise as he finished untying her dress and tugged it and her shift from her shoulders so they dropped to the floor as she bathed him. His head lay back against the edge of the tub and he watched her face as the cloth in her hand roamed his body. There was a bright look in her eye and a pleasant curl to her mouth, and it seemed she was relearning him. Rediscovering, and he was oh so pleased to let her. At his chest, she at first attempted to fluff the hair there, but it lay plastered flat with the water. So she gave up and leaned down to kiss him there. He took her face between his palms to kiss her, and her hand and cloth went between his knees and up his thigh to make him terribly impatient with her touch on what she liked to call his “naughty bits.”
When she let him up from the tub and dried him off, he picked her up and deposited her on the bed, then climbed on after her. It was good to celebrate they were alive. They made love to each other, and he hoped they would be strong enough together to overcome the problems they would face in being together as partners instead of traditional medieval spouses. He thought he might be kidding himself, but for the moment, moving together as one, it seemed anything was possible.
CHAPTER 19
The castle was abuzz with preparations for the expedition to Cruachan. Alex had to place a moratorium on fishing until they would leave, for the MacConnells were traditionally allied with the MacDonalds and would surely carry to them the news of the earl’s impending visit. Alex didn’t want to sail smack into a welcoming committee of MacDonalds who might feel they had no need of a new liege. The MacConnells of Eilean Aonarach grumbled, even Donnchadh, who was usually more accepting of Alex’s rule. He came to the Great Hall that night and was escorted to the head table while Alex and his knights lingered over supper. Lindsay sat to Alex’s right, Trefor to his left. Alex leaned back to regard his visitor and consider his words.
“My lord.” Donnchadh made his obeisance, then was bade to rise. “My lord, with all respect I cannae let you do this.”
“Do what?”
“Curtail the fishing. You’ll be taking food from the mouths of the children.”
“I can’t have the boats sailing off to Cruachan before I can get there. They’ll have to wait until I’ve secured the island.”
“And how long will that be? How many days?”
“A week. Let us pack up and go, and then you can fish to your hearts’ content.”
Donnchadh glanced around in his distress, as if searching for help. “The summer wanes. The fishing needs to be done now.”
“Haven’t they been working all summer?”
“Oh, aye, and hard. ’Tis always a hard life for the fishermen and their wives. And each day they dinnae make a catch makes it even more difficult. Fewer fish, and if you don’t mind my saying, it will also mean fewer of them on your own table come winter.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“I do not. A week will put a hardship on us all.”
Alex considered that but had to weigh it against his position with the MacDonalds of Cruachan. If their laird on the mainland were to send men, it would be an ugly mess for Alex to claim his land. People might die. “I need to be the one to bring news of the transfer of leadership. I can’t let the MacDonalds put their heads together before I get there.”
“Ye will have no trouble. I assure you.”
“Yesterday you said otherwise.”
Donnchadh pressed his lips together, and his eyes went dull with his frustration. “My lord, ye must have faith in your own people of Eilean Aonarach. We’ve promised allegiance to you. If you order the fishermen to keep away from Cruachan, they will obey. You can trust in it.”
“Like I trusted in the Bretons, who then betrayed me to the MacLeods and invaded my castle in an attempt to murder my family.”
“We are not Bretons. We are MacConnells and do not abide such cowardly practice.”
“It only takes one. One boat to drift accidentally-on-purpose over to Cruachan and let slip word that the new earl is coming to take over. I can’t let that happen.”
“Most will welcome you.”
“All will take the side they think is going to win, and you know that. Even if all I get is a public relations victory . . .” At Donnchadh’s puzzled frown Alex elaborated. “Even if all that happens is that I win them over before there’s a fight, then that is the best thing. I can’t do that if I’ve got MacConnells passing gossip and folks forming opinions before I get there. I can’t let the boats go out until I’m under way.”
Donnchadh started to speak again but thought better of his words and shut his mouth tight. Alex understood his distress but didn’t have an answer that would make him happy. The villager had nothing more to argue, and his shoulders sagged in defeat.
Then, just when Alex thought Donnchadh would give it up and accept the moratorium, Trefor opened his big, fat mouth.
“Aw, my lord, let them fish. They won’t hurt anything.” He looked sideways at Alex, with eyes filled with cold mischief. This was purposeful; he knew what he was doing, and he knew the trouble it would cause Alex.
Donnchadh looked to Trefor with an expression of hope, and Alex knew he was back to square one with the argument. He turned to Trefor in irritation and said in modern English, “Shut up.” Not that he didn’t know Donnchadh could figure out his meaning from the tone of his voice.
Trefor replied in Gaelic so Donnchadh would follow him easily, “He’s right, my lord. No fishing for a whole week would be a hardship on the people. Your people. You’re responsible for the welfare of this island.”
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