Remembrance

But it had all been taken away from him within the blink of an eye. He had received and lost all within the space of hours. Over the ensuing years he had been able to block out the pain of the loss of those days. He had concentrated on building and on trying to make something of the two worthless sons he did have. Although nothing had been able to give him life again, he had managed to survive.

Then today he had seen that woman and she had reminded him of that night. She had been there. He knew that. She had been there.

The pain had been too much for him. At that moment, he’d wanted to stop living. Better death than the pain of remembering that night.

And so he had chosen to die. He did not fight the lack of air that was causing him to die. He gave up.

But as he was hovering over his own body, two angels came to him. One was a tall boy, as handsome as an angel, with black hair and eyes, lightly tanned skin, as straight and strong as a knight from a fairy tale. The girl was as white and pale as something from the netherworld. All the features of her face were without color, her brows, her lashes, her lips even, were the same pale ivory. Only her eyes, which were an extraordinary blue-violet, added color to her face. Around this ivory face tumbled a great mass of golden hair, falling to her waist, wrapping about her arms, looking nearly as heavy as all of her body combined.

Looking down at them, John hesitated before leaving the earth altogether. There was something about these young people that drew his attention.

He knew now that that moment’s hesitation was the reason he was still alive. The boy dropped the girl on his bloated belly, the apple piece went flying from where it was lodged in his throat, and the next moment, John was back in his body and breathing again.

Now, weakly standing, supported on both sides by his men, something was haunting him. There was a name that had rung in his head as the boy was dropping the girl onto his lifeless body. It had taken him a while to remember the name, but when he did, his coughing increased.

Gilbert, he thought. Gilbert Rasher.

The men around John parted and allowed their master to see the boy who had saved his life.

Talis stood straight and strong, staring levelly into this man’s eyes. Even though he had been raised on a farm, there was no subservience in his manner. Talis had the unshakable self-confidence that only youth and intelligence could give. He believed he belonged, therefore he did.

Slowly, John looked the boy up and down. But

he could hardly be called a boy, for he was taller than most men. His body had not yet filled out, so his hands and feet were too large, his shoulders awkwardly broad above his thin waist, but in a few more years he was going to be a giant of a man.

“What is your name?” John rasped out of his raw throat.

With his shoulders back, he said, “Talis.” He did not give Will’s last name of Watkins as his own, for Talis had known for a long time that his true name was something else. But he knew that Talis belonged to him and to no one else.

John nearly swooned on his feet at the sound of that name. It was his father’s name, an old name, an unusual name. He didn’t know how and, honestly, didn’t care how the boy had survived the fire. All he knew for sure was that this was the boy given to him sixteen years ago. This was his son.

With all the strength he could muster, John pushed the men around him from his side. Then, standing unsteadily on his own feet, he opened his arms wide. “Come,” he said, emotion choking him, “give your father a kiss.”

Talis did not hesitate before walking into John Hadley’s strong arms. Always, since his first day of awareness, Talis knew that something like this was destined to happen to him. It was what he had “trained” for. At least trained as best he could, by learning all he could about being a knight. When his real father came to him, he did not want to disappoint him. Years ago, when Meg had returned from that awful time when she had disappeared and later said she had gone to find a teacher, Talis had not been surprised. A knight needed to be taught, and he needed to learn all he could to prepare himself for this day.

Talis could feel the man’s tears on his neck, but Talis did not feel close to tears. Now it will begin, was all he could think. Now his true purpose in life would start.

John pulled away from Talis to look at him, to put his hands on the sides of his face, to touch the unblemished young skin, to feel the clean curls of his hair. And as John touched the boy, life seemed to flow back into him. For years now, sixteen years to be precise, he had been willing himself to die. He had not had a reason to live. But now, touching this beautiful boy, he once again had a reason to live.

Talis smiled happily as John ran his hands over him, feeling him as though he were a horse he’d just bought. Grinning, Talis looked at the men around them, some of them frowning, some half-smiling, some looking on in bewilderment.

Suddenly, John straightened. “We must ride. We will not get home before dark as it is. Hugh! Give my son your horse.”

Through all of this, Callie, Meg, Will, and Nigel had stood in silence. With each word that was spoken, Meg clung more heavily to Will’s arm. Will, trying to be strong, was weak at the thought of losing Talis. Until this moment he had not known how very much he loved the boy. Talis, with his teasing sense of humor, his moods, and his demands for attention, even the sheer long-legged size of him, was everything to all of them.

Nigel would have died before he admitted it, because he was careful to make the farm family think that he was of a different class than they were, but the truth was, he was better fed and better treated here than he had ever been in his life. And in spite of his reservations about his pupils, their life spirit was infectious. They were the two most likable people he had ever met. And now he saw it all ending.

Callie was too stunned by what was happening to so much as move. She was happy for Talis. Yes, yes, yes, she told herself. She was very, very happy for him. This is what he wanted, what he deserved. Maybe someday she would get to see him in his armor. Maybe someday he would stop by the poor farmhouse and allow all of them to see him.

At this thought, she imagined herself in rags, having little to eat, having to take the barn down beam by beam to use the wood to stay warm in winter. She imagined Talis returning to say that his life had been miserable without her, rich but miserable, and would they all please come to live with him?

It was Talis who stepped away from the man who said he was his father. “No, sir,” he said as politely as possible. “I cannot leave my family alone.”

No one could speak after Talis said that. Some older men smiled at the idealism of youth. Idealism was not much good in the cold of winter, and, of course, the boy did not know what he was turning down when he refused his lordship’s offer of protection.

Although Talis looked as though he made a daily habit of turning down offers of life with a nobleman, Callie knew all too well what he was feeling. He was scared and uncertain. Now his honor, what he knew to be right and what he wanted so very, very much, were warring inside him.

Silently, she went to stand behind him. She did not touch him but she knew her close presence would give him strength. They were stronger together than apart.