1606011324-Lady-Knight-Chenery Read online

  Knowing she would not be able to do anything that would require her full attention, Ariel decided to go for a ride. It seemed to help a bit. The cool fresh air felt invigorating and cleared her head of worrying thoughts. Letting the cold air fill her lungs, Ariel could almost smell snow on it. Galloping her horse through the frozen meadow was a thrill she thoroughly enjoyed.

  Without really thinking of where she went, Ariel slowed her mount when she reached the forest and entered the woods. Not until she saw the frozen surface of the pond did she realize where she had come to be. It was a little ironic that she would come to this place, the place where her life first changed, where she had lost her innocence. And after tonight her life would change again.

  She hadn’t come back to the pond. She had been tempted to go a few days after Broc’s leaving, but once she realized she carried his child she hadn’t able to come near it. Even now, after all the time that had passed, the memories of their one time together came rushing back. And they were strong. Ariel could almost feel as if it was just yesterday Broc had made love to her.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, looking at the pond lost in her thoughts. A feeling of being cold broke the trance-like state that had come over her. Much to her surprise, Ariel felt tears streaming down her face. Roughly, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks with her sleeve. Ariel then turned her horse away from the water’s edge. There was no point mourning something that could never be.

  Returning to the main hall Ariel went directly to her chamber. She changed into the tunic and trews her father had given her especially for this occasion and sat down on her bed to wait. An hour later, someone knocked on her door. Ariel stood and bid them enter. Her father stepped in and closed the door behind him.

  “I was told to fetch you. The meal is almost ready and the Norman wants to knight you before it is served.”

  Taking a deep breath, Ariel nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Swein hesitated for a moment. “You don’t have to go through with this you know.”

  “Aye, I do. I know what I’m giving up. I have a son. I don’t need to marry.”

  “It’s your decision.” Swein pulled Ariel into his arms and hugged her close. “I want you to know I’m proud of you. I only wish your mother could be here. She always believed a woman could do anything a man could. You are proving her theory correct.” Releasing her, Swein stepped back and reached for the door handle. “Well, daughter, are you ready to make history?”

  Swallowing back tears that had come to her eyes, Ariel nodded her head. Pulling herself together, she stepped through the door and out into the hall.

  * * * *

  What she noticed first were all the people. The hall was filled to capacity. It seemed every person in the village had come to witness the ceremony. The next was Broc, who stood waiting for her in the middle of the room.

  Silence fell as Ariel left her father’s side and slowly made her way over to Broc. When she came to stand before him, he motioned for her to kneel. Once she had complied, Broc pulled his sword out of its sheath. He made sure he had every person’s attention before he began to speak.

  “You come before me as a boy, but no more will you be. From this point on you will be considered a man.” Broc placed the tip of his sword on each of Ariel’s shoulders. “You may rise.”

  Ariel stood as Broc sheathed his sword and motioned to her father. Swein moved toward them with her armor and arms. Taking each item, Broc dressed her in chain mail, helmet, sword and then her shield. The look Broc gave it said he hadn’t seen it before now. He paused to study it closely obviously confused by it.

  Recovering, Broc slid the shield onto Ariel’s left arm. He then stepped back. “From this day forward, you will be known as Sir Wulf.” A cheer rose up at his words. As if on cue, the serfs started to bring platters of food into the hall.

  Now with the ceremony over, Ariel felt the tension leave her body. At the smell of food, her stomach rumbled. The sound reminded Ariel she had not been able to eat all day.

  Since the celebration was for her, Broc had her sit in the thane’s chair at the head table. The table sat upon a dais, so it permitted her a good view of the revealers below. It seemed Broc had held nothing back for the festivities. From what she could see, the villagers were being served the same food that had been placed at the head table. Mead and ale flowed freely. Ariel picked up the goblet of mead that sat in front of her and took a big gulp. It probably was unwise to drink it on an empty stomach, but she needed it.

  Having Broc seated next to her, his scent wafted over her. It had been a mistake to go to the pond. The visit had brought up memories and emotions that had been better left forgotten. Now with Broc so near, Ariel felt them all more intensely.

  A trencher filled with food that had been placed before her gave Ariel something to center her attention on. It helped some, but the mead helped more. So as the meal progressed, more mead than food passed Ariel’s lips. By the time the meal drew to a close, everything seemed a bit fuzzy and Ariel felt great.

  * * * *

  The serfs started to clear the tables at Broc’s signal. He looked over at Wulf. They had not spoken during the meal, but Broc had seen him quaffing down the mead like water. Swein said nothing to his son about the amount he drank, so Broc figured it was not his place to reprimand Wulf. He had no right to criticize, he was only slightly better off.

  During the weeks it had taken to complete Wulf’s training, Broc had felt himself becoming attached to Wulf, and it scared the hell out of him. For the feelings he had for Wulf could not be considered normal by any means, especially for him. Whenever Wulf had mastered a stroke or disarmed him, Broc had wanted to pull the boy into his arms. The urge to act on his feelings had become almost too strong to resist at times.

  But finding Wulf sitting on his horse, just staring at the pond, had almost been his undoing. Each time he went to the pond Broc felt the loss of the girl. It didn’t help that Wulf looked so much like her. That had to be the reason for the strange attraction, it had to be.

  Then there was Wulf’s emblem. When he had reached for the boy’s shield, Broc had been a little shocked to see what had been painted on its surface. Painted white with a red cross separating the surface into four squares, in the top left hand square was his emblem, the gold unicorn, an exact match. In the bottom right hand square was a red heart with a gold sword pierced through it. The emblem itself didn’t make any sense to Broc. Why would Wulf have my emblem on the shield? What did the heart symbolize? Broc had the feeling Wulf wouldn’t tell him even if he asked.

  * * * *

  As the evening wore on, Swein could not help but see that both Ariel and the Norman were getting a little worse for wear from drinking the mead. But he said nothing to either of them. It was not hard to guess that they were both fighting the same battle—their feelings for each other. The lessons had revealed much.

  It had become quite clear to Swein the Norman was attracted to Ariel. The look in his eyes told all, but those same eyes appeared to be blind when it came to Ariel. The fool only saw a young boy. Ariel may have adapted to wearing the clothes of a man, but her body had not. She may bind her chest to make it appear flat, but the rest she could not hide. Her bottom was too rounded for a man’s, and her waist too small. The Norman of course saw none of those things. So he thought he had feelings for another male. In a small way Swein felt sorry for him.

  When it grew late and the villagers slowly began to make their farewells, both Broc and Ariel were well into their cups. The pair of them had not spoken to each other all night. They would talk to others, but did their hardest not to notice each other’s conversations. Seeing the last guest go out the hall door, Swein stood up and turned to his daughter.

  “I guess I’ll call it a night.”

  “Are you sure, Father?” Ariel’s speech came out slower than usual and somewhat slurred.

  “Aye, it grows late. I think you should do the same.”

  “Once I finish m
y drink.” Ariel waved her goblet, which caused mead to slosh over the edge. Swein shook his head. Ariel was no longer a child. It was not his place to tell her what to do. Knowing she would find her way to bed on her own eventually, he left her sitting at the table beside Broc.

  * * * *

  He sensed it immediately when they had been left alone in the hall. Broc became more aware of Wulf’s presence next to him now, more than anytime during the evening. Instead of dulling his reactions to Wulf, the drink seemed to have heightened them. Taking a deep breath, Broc turned his head and looked over at Wulf. What he saw made his breath catch.

  Wulf was asleep. His head was on the table, his arms folded under it forming a make shift pillow. His face affected Broc the most. In sleep, all signs of the stress of daily living were gone. The fan of his lashes lay against his cheeks. Broc had never seen a man with lashes that long before. They were almost too long to be on a man’s face. In sleep the boy looked beautiful.

  Broc stretched his hand out and gently placed it on Wulf’s head before he realized what he did. His hair felt like silk. His fingers splayed, allowing him to run them through the strands. The boy did not awaken. Broc knew he should stop, what with the amount of mead he had consumed he could easily lose control, but the urge couldn’t be ignored.

  Without removing his hand, Broc slipped off his chair so he knelt beside Wulf. The motion caused his hand to rest on the boy’s back. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. For they moved down Wulf’s arm then back up. Once they reached his shoulder, Broc brushed his knuckles across the soft skin of Wulf’s cheek. He felt no roughness that one usually felt when touching a man’s face. It almost seemed Wulf was not capable of growing a beard. Something was not right here, but the drink had fuddled his mind, not allowing him to grasp what it was.

  A new sensation washed over him. Looking at Wulf’s eyes, Broc found them open and watching. No fear or disgust lurked in them. If anything, they told him his touch was more than welcome.

  Chapter 18

  The sight of Broc’s face so close to hers took Ariel’s breath away. She had been asleep, but the sensation of someone caressing her cheek brought her instantly to awareness. Even though Ariel knew Broc thought her to be male, she could not bring herself to stop him. It felt too good. It had been so long since he had touched her in this way.

  His eyes never left hers as his fingertips softly brushed her cheek once more. Moving lower, he cupped her chin with his hand. With his thumb on her lower lip, he rubbed it slowly back and forth. That was enough to send Ariel bolting upright in her chair.

  “Shush. I didn’t mean to upset you.” In one fluid motion, Broc stood. “You were asleep. Maybe you should retire for the night.”

  “Aye, I think I will.” Ariel pushed back her chair and stood. All the mead she had drunk during the evening rushed to her head. The room began to spin and her legs gave out. If Broc had not caught her around the waist, she would have fallen to the floor.

  Broc pulled her closer to his side and started to walk to the chambers at the back of the hall. “I think you may need some help if you are to make it to your bed.”

  Ariel tried to pull out of his grip, but her legs would not function properly. “I’ll manage. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Fine, if that is your wish.” Broc released her and Ariel promptly felt herself slip towards the floor once more. A strong arm caught her. “It seems to me that a little help would be in order.”

  Ariel didn’t reply. She could do nothing but accept his assistance. As they staggered to her chamber, Ariel noticed Broc was not very steady on his feet either. They somehow managed to get to the chamber door and walk across the room to her bed. Having made it that far, things decidedly went downhill from there.

  Broc released her and her legs promptly gave out on her. On the way down, Ariel grabbed his tunic to stop from falling. As she landed on her back on the bed, she threw Broc off balance and he ended up falling on top of her. They both grew still. Ariel felt the hard length of Broc’s body on every inch of her. A small gasp escaped her lips before she could silence it. That little sound was all Broc needed to act.

  Broc’s head lowered and his lips claimed her own. Ariel’s body jerked in surprise, but she made no move to stop Broc. Sensing her acceptance, Broc ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth. At his insistence, Ariel let her lips part, giving him the invitation he needed. The feel of Broc’s tongue gently stroking hers, Ariel reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  She knew this was bad, very bad. If this went much further there would be no way of hiding what she truly was. But what Broc did to her sent shock waves of desire all through her body. She was not strong enough to stop this. Giving herself up to the sensations that began to pool in the lower half of her body, Ariel groaned.

  Broc stiffened and roughly jerked his mouth away from her lips. Ariel watched the passion slowly die in his golden eyes and be replaced with a look of utter disgust. She felt like weeping. He didn’t know it was her, he only saw Wulf. Even after what they had just shared. He seemed sickened by what he had done. Broc wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and quickly jumped off the bed.

  Ariel reached out a hand to him, to stop him from leaving. She could not do this to him. It would be a cruelty she did not wish upon him, she had to explain. But Broc just stared at the hand held out to him. With a shake of his head, he rejected it and rushed out of the room.

  * * * *

  He still would not speak to her. It had been days since the episode in her chamber. Ariel had tired to talk to Broc the next day, but somehow he had managed to avoid her. So nothing had been resolved.

  They were now half a day away from London. During the day they rode in silence and at night Broc would eat then promptly go to sleep. Ariel decided she would give him some time. But as the days passed, Broc made no attempt to talk to her. He even refused to acknowledge her presence. She had become a spirit in his eyes, an entity he could see through.

  When they stopped to make camp for the final night before they reached their destination, Ariel decided it had gone on long enough. This had to end. London was a large city. She had only been there once before and knew no one. No one except for Broc. Ariel could admit to herself she was a little nervous. She could only assume her being a Saxon in a Norman court may not be a pleasant experience for her. She needed Broc for support.

  After Ariel had unsaddled her horse and hobbled it, she walked over to Broc. He had a small fire going. The food that made up their evening meal sat spread out on a blanket. Still ignoring her, Broc grabbed his share of the food and began to eat.

  Ariel stepped around the food until she stood in front of Broc. She practically stood on him. Still he ignored her. She wondered how long he would hold out before he was forced to look at her. She had no intention of moving until he spoke to her. She could tell she was irritating him.

  Broc finally glared up at her. “What do you want?”

  “Ah, he spoke. I thought you must have lost your tongue or the ability of speech had left you.”

  “Well, as you can see, neither has happened. Go eat. We’re going to have an early start tomorrow.”

  Ariel shook her head. “Nay, I think not. At least not until we have a talk.”

  Every muscle in Broc’s body stiffened and he dropped his head, refusing to look at her. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  Ariel would not let him off that easily. “You may not, but I have something to say to you.”

  Broc almost growled at her. “Leave me be, Wulf.”

  “I can’t do that. We have to speak of the other night.”

  Broc surged to his feet. Face red, fists clenched at his sides, he yelled. “Nay! If you want to make it to London in one piece, I suggest you keep your mouth shut!”

  Ariel had never seen Broc like this before. He was always so even tempered. With the full force of his anger directed at her, Ariel stepped back. He had hurt her, but no way would she let him know
how much. Abruptly she turned away. She picked up her food and went to sit on the opposite side of the fire. She gave up. He could go to hell. Let him drown in his own worries. She would be damned before she put his mind to rest.

  * * * *

  At dawn the next morning, Broc woke Ariel by giving her a shove in the ribs with his boot. Once her eyes opened, he walked over to his horse and began to saddle it. He spoke not a word to her, which suited Ariel. She had nothing further to say to him.

  Ariel rolled her bedding up and went to ready her own horse. When she walked by Broc, he shoved some food into her hands. He most definitely was in a fine mood this morn. She saddled her horse and tied the bedding to the back of the saddle. Once she gained her seat, Ariel hung her shield over the horn of her saddle, keeping it within easy reach should the need arise.

  Broc rode them hard all day. He didn’t even stop to eat at noon. By the time London came into sight, darkness had fallen and Ariel was extremely hungry. She felt tiredness eating at her. She hoped once they reached the court a bath would be offered to her. After all the days of travel she badly needed one.

  Half an hour later, Broc and Ariel rode through one of the city gates. Ariel forgot all about how tired she felt. She had known London was large from her previous visit, but it still cast a spell over her. The sheer number of people living in one place overwhelmed her as it had before. Even at this late hour people moved along the streets.

  Ariel felt herself lucky to be with Broc, for she found herself unable to pay attention to where they went. The sights and smells were all still so new to her. She couldn’t concentrate on anything else. From her lofty position on top of her horse, Ariel could see a lot more than if she’d been down on street level. At the center of the city a fort had been built. The Normans must have built it once they had arrived. William probably wanted some protection from the citizens of London.