The Promise of Peace (6 page)

Nola's head broke the surface some distance away. The current carried her downstream faster than him, and Keifer swam after her with frightened, fast strokes.

She still clutched the panicked animal.

“Let go of the dumb sheep and grab a branch,” he shouted. The cold water would have felt good on a warm summer afternoon, but so early in the day, without the sun's full warmth, it sapped Keifer's energy. Afraid Nola would weaken, he swam harder.

Nola went under again, but this time she let go of the lamb, which struggled toward the shore. Nola was a good swimmer, but with her heavy skirts weighing her down, Keifer feared she might not surface again. The current was carrying her to the deep pool where they'd caught their fish.

Keifer prayed for strength and for Nola's head to again emerge. With luck the water would carry her to more shallow water, but could Nola hold her breath that long? Would she sink too deep for the current to move her? When he reached the spot he'd last seen her, he took a breath and went under, searching for her until he grew faint from lack of air.

Lungs nearly bursting, he surfaced without Nola and panic threatened to overtake him, just as it had the wild lamb. He prayed again, teeth chattering. He'd been carried to the shallows and was able to stand now—why didn't Nola push herself up out of the water? Had she hit her head?

Desperately Keifer searched under the water, along the shore. Seconds passed like hours before Nola's head broke the surface. He moved with as much speed as the water allowed and pulled her to him.

“Nola!” he shouted. Her eyes were closed, and he dragged her to the shore. Warm tears joined the cool creek water on his face. He hugged her tight, crushing her to him.

The action must have jostled her lungs, for a gush of water came out of her mouth. She sputtered and struggled and opened her eyes. “Nola. Thank God.” He helped her to sit and retch up the rest of the water. When the spasms passed, she looked at him, swiping the water from her eyes as if she'd just taken a leisurely swim. “Did you save the lamb?”

His laugh came out strangled, and she tried to push him away. But he clung to her, saying a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving and promising himself that they would never miss chapel again.

He pointed to the bedraggled animal just upstream from them. “The lamb swam to shore and is probably laughing at us both. You could have drowned!”

“Aye, but I didn't. I knew you'd save me.”

He shook his head, wondering at her faith in him. “That I did. You could thank me, you know.” Keifer stood and helped Nola to her feet. “Come on. By the time we change clothes, we'll miss chapel for sure.”

“I do thank you. You were very brave.” She looked to the east and the rapidly rising sun. “We're going to catch it for sure unless we can convince Mama we went to chapel before we went fishing.” She shrugged and proceeded to walk back to where she'd left her pole.

They gathered their belongings and walked up the path toward the castle. Nola said, “You won't tell on me, will you?”

“We'll be in enough trouble for missing chapel. Just promise me not to do anything foolish like that again.”

“I promise.”

Keifer doubted that she would try that particular stunt again. But he could be sure she would find some other mischief. Nola's impulsive nature made her a delightful companion. He just hoped she could learn to curb her impulses as she matured without destroying her joy for life.

GWENYTH SAT ON A WOODEN BENCH in Moy's chapel, her husband beside her and their sons between him and his mother. Gwenyth smiled as Eva removed Tom's hand from his brother Rob's hair. What would Gwenyth do without her children's grandmother to help with her active brood?

As she looked up at the beautiful stained-glass window above the altar, Gwenyth remembered the day she'd taken vows with Adam in this very place. She bowed her head for a prayer of thanks for God's many blessings since that day. Two of those blessings sat here with her. Little James was still asleep in the nursery. Her fourth and oldest child was late for chapel. As was Keifer. No doubt they were into some mischief together. Such had been the case ever since Keifer's arrival three years ago.

When Gwenyth finished praying, she lifted her head and glanced about the chapel, looking once again for Nola and Keifer. Still not here. She would have to scold them both.

Adam had also finished his prayers and stood up. While his mother took Rob's hand, Adam reached for Tom. As they walked from the chapel, Adam asked his wife, “Where are Nola and Keifer?”

“I was wondering the same thing. Neither of them asked permission to skip chapel this morning.”

Eva said, “I'll take the boys inside to break their fast if you want to look for Nola and Keifer.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Adam said.

Eva took the children by the hands and walked into the main hall while Adam and Gwenyth remained standing outside the chapel.

“I suppose we'll have to look for them. They aren't still abed— Keifer's spot by the fireplace and Nola's bed were empty.”

“I worry about them,” Gwenyth said.

“Attending chapel faithfully is but one way of worship,” Adam reminded her.

“Perhaps for an adult. But children must learn the discipline— and rewards—of regular prayer.”

Adam nodded. “Where should we begin our search? And what will you do when you find them?”

Just then Nola's head peeked around the doorway leading into the hall. Just as quickly it disappeared.

Gwenyth strode forward. There stood Keifer and Nola, both soaking wet and each carrying a stringer of fish.

“Was it necessary to miss chapel?” she demanded.

Keifer looked at her with disdain, as if she couldn't be expected to understand. “Fish bite best early in the morning.”

The boy's defiance would have to be dealt with, but Gwenyth chose to fight one battle at a time. “Surely they would wait a quarter hour until you'd been to chapel?”

Neither child had an answer to that.

Adam said, “How did you catch them—bare handed?”

“Nola fell in and I had to pull her out.” Again that strain of defiance in his voice. Gwenyth would have to speak to Adam about the boy's uncooperative disposition. “I could have gotten out by myself.”

Nola flicked water from her clothing, and Keifer got her back by flinging his wet hair.

Drops of water sprinkled Gwenyth's face. “Enough. Go and get dry clothes.”

Apparently her voice conveyed her displeasure, because the two left without further argument.

Gwenyth watched after them. “Have you noticed Keifer's bearing of late?”

“Aye. He's pushing to see how far he can go. Seamus has mentioned it, and he and I will deal with it. Let me know if Keifer becomes disrespectful. 'Tis something boys do, Gwenyth. A firm hand will guide him through it.”

“They both need a firm hand. Neither he nor Nola seems to take their faith, nor us, seriously.”

“Aye.” As they walked toward the main hall, Adam continued, “I am surprised Keifer continues to put up with a child so much younger.”

“She's closest in age to him. Why wouldn't they strike a friendship?”

“Because she's a girl, perhaps?” He stopped and turned to her. “Have you given any thought to the future should they move past friendship when they are older?”

Gwenyth halted as well. “Part of me doesn't want to worry so far ahead. But I suppose we should be prepared. Would such an alliance be acceptable?” Gwenyth asked.

Adam said, “It's acceptable, but I had thought that Nola might marry a Macpherson to strengthen those ties.”

“Well, time enough to worry about it later. For now I must go see that they don't catch their deaths from their adventure.”

AFTER CHANGING HIS CLOTHES and downing a bowl of porridge, Keifer hurried to the lists. He looked forward to the effort of training to ward off the chill he'd taken in the creek. Keifer enjoyed working with Seamus but sometimes his demands seemed pointless. Still, Keifer did his best to arrive on time and learn what Seamus had to teach him, harboring the hope that someday he would become a knight.

Seamus stood by an outcropping of the courtyard's stone wall. A variety of weapons lay there, including the sword that had belonged to Keifer's father. But Keifer did not have permission to fight with it yet. Another promise for the future—that when he'd earned the right, he would be allowed to carry his father's sword.

Keifer walked over to Seamus, who said, “Good day, Keifer. Are you ready to work?”

Picking up his sheathed weapon, Keifer replied, “Aye.”

“You will have an opportunity to show our laird what you have learned this week.” Seamus lifted his chin and pointed across the bailey.

Sir Adam strode toward them, a scowl on his usually smiling face. That did not bode well, and Keifer had his first inclination that the laird's presence had some meaning beyond simply watching.

After a curt “Good morrow,” Adam stood directly in front of Keifer and said, “Let me see your sword.”

Keifer's heart pounded. The sword had not been cleaned in several days. He glanced to Seamus, whose expression gave no hint of what to expect. Dreading the laird's reaction, Keifer took the weapon from its scabbard.

Hands held out, Adam demanded, “Give it to me.”

Why was the laird making such a fuss? Keifer handed it to him, wondering what the point was.

Adam examined the weapon, turning it over and back. “Needs cleaning.”

Keifer stared at the dirty blade.

“Well, have you nothing to say?” Sir Adam asked.

Keifer dared not lie—he'd already learned the hard way that Sir Adam's punishment for such an infraction was a whipping. And even though the stripes had stung his pride more than his bottom, he did not care for a repeat of the episode. “Aye, my laird, 'tis dirty.”

Seamus said, “I told you to clean it when we were finished yesterday. Didn't I?”

Sullenly Keifer replied, “Aye.”

Seamus and Adam exchanged a glance. They treated him like a babe.

Adam said, “ 'Tis Seamus's job to train you, Keifer. 'Tis your job to obey him as you would me. Do you understand?”

“Aye.” He understood his role well, yet he couldn't seem to overcome his need to resist. He'd spoken with the priest about his willfulness, and the man had suggested that Keifer pray for strength from the Holy Ghost. Keifer prayed daily for such strength but so far found it lacking.

“Good. When you are finished with your lesson, you will clean all the weapons in the armory as well as your own.”

“Aye, my laird.”

“Now I will watch your lesson—I hope you are not as sloppy in your fighting as you are in preparing to fight.”

Adam nodded to Seamus before standing to the side.

Angry as well as nervous, Keifer moved into position. Seamus instructed him as to what they would practice first. The lesson began. They worked on several different moves as Seamus explained yet again the advantages and disadvantages of size, quickness, and stamina. “You must learn to recognize your opponent's strengths and weaknesses as well as your own. Watch the weapon, not the body. Body movement may prove false—the weapon is the key.”

After a time, Keifer's arm ached. He parried a thrust and blindly attacked, not striving for form, only wishing for the bout to end.

Seamus deflected the blow with ease and called a halt. “There, Keifer. That is the longest bout you have managed yet. Well done.”

Adam walked over to them and put his hand on Keifer's shoulder. “Well done indeed, lad. I am pleased with what I see.”

Keifer leaned on his sword, drawing in gulps of air. His arms felt like stones and his legs trembled, but it was worth it to receive such a compliment.

Seamus ruffled Keifer's sweaty hair. “You will make a fine warrior yet.”

Adam withdrew his hand from Keifer's shoulder and walked over to the weapons, picking up a broad sword. “Come, Seamus. If young Keifer hasn't tired you, go a round with me.”

Seamus grinned. “My pleasure, my laird.”

The morning sun had grown warm, and both men pulled off their sarks. When Adam removed his, Keifer stared at the ragged mark on Adam's left arm. As the men engaged their swords, they explained what Adam did to compensate for the lack of strength in his shield arm. Adam's prowess was admirable, but Keifer's gaze returned over and over to the scar.

When both men were breathing heavily from their efforts, they halted and put up their weapons. The three of them walked across the bailey to the place behind the kitchen where a crock of water was kept for drinking. Filling the crock each morning was Keifer's responsibility. Only now did Keifer remember that in his hurry to go fishing he had failed to do so today. Hopefully there was water left from yesterday, or he could expect another rebuke.

Adam picked up the drinking ladle and lifted the lid.

“What's this? No water?” He turned to Keifer. “This chore is to be done before breakfast. Why was it not done?”

Keifer rolled his eyes. “I will fill it now, my laird.”

Where Adam's face had earlier reflected approval, now he scowled. “Aye, you will. And you'll not roll your eyes in disrespect, either. See that this crock and the one in the kitchen are filled at the assigned time from now on.”

Keifer grabbed the bucket to head to the well, mumbling, “I don't see what difference it makes.”

Adam grabbed him from behind and spun Keifer to face him. “I'll tell you what difference it makes. I am thirsty, as is Seamus. And Cook needs water first thing, not when you are good and ready. Everyone must work together for the good of all, Keifer. Just because you don't see the need doesn't mean you can forgo your chores. I have reasons for my orders, and I expect you to obey. You want to be a knight? First you must learn this lesson. All true knights obey their master without thought of it twice.”