Warrior's Song (Medieval Song 1)

“It would seem that I am not very lucky.”

Chandra jumped to her feet and struck her fist against the turret tower. She winced, then struck it again. “Damn men—all of them are wretched bastards, disgusting worms. They take what they want with no thought of what can come from their lust. I would slay them all if I could.”

“Well, you cannot, Chandra. I do not know what to do. The de Vernons will have to know soon, for my stomach will begin sticking out, and they cannot allow me to stay, not a woman who will bear a bastard.” Mary covered her face with her hands.

Chandra took Mary in her arms and held her tightly against her. “No, Mary, don’t cry. I will think of something—I swear it to you. You must not despair, and you must promise me to say not a word to anyone. Now, wipe your eyes, else my mother-in-law will wonder why you are crying, and blame me for it.”

Mary smiled through her tears. “You are probably right.”

When they reached the solar, Chandra said again, “Don’t worry. Trust me, please. Now, Mary, do you know anything about mending sheets?”

Mary smiled and nodded.

Chandra knew the only one to help her was her husband. She found the hall filled with angry, shouting men when she came in for the midday meal. “Quiet, all of you!” Jerval shouted, and turned to Malton. “Prepare a dozen men to ride within the hour. The Scots are but a few hours ahead of us, and the bastards are herding cattle, so it will slow them down.”

“Hell’s fires,” said Lord Hugh, “I cannot ride with you, not with my damned foot swelled like a ripe melon.”

“What has happened?” Chandra asked, walking quickly forward.

Jerval smiled at her—he couldn’t help himself—then finished giving instructions to the servants to wrap food in the saddle pouches.

He walked quickly to her, kissed her mouth, and said, “The Scots attacked a northern demesne farm last night. They killed three of our people, razed the farm, and made off with the cattle. We leave shortly.” He said to his father, “There is always a next time. It was only a small raiding party from the man’s report, nothing to challenge us.”

When Jerval entered their bedchamber, he found Chandra tying the cross garters on her men’s chausses, a sword strapped at her waist, and a quiver filled with arrows fastened on her shoulder.

“You have not told me how skilled the Scots are with the bow, Jerval,” she said, never pausing.

“Quite skilled.”

“Then we must catch them in a crossfire.”

“Aye, we will probably do that, depending on where we finally catch up with them.”

When she walked past him to get her shield, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her about to face him. “I wished you were in bed when I awoke this morning. How many times have I told you that? But you were not. Once again you ran away from me, from yourself. No, I cannot think of that right now. Listen to me, Chandra. You will remain here. Since my father is not well, I am placing you in charge of guarding the keep. Do not disappoint me.”

“But Malton can stay back. He is your master-at-arms.”

“Yes, he will also remain.” He sighed. He had tried to give her purpose, but it hadn’t worked. He said now, his voice still gentle, so very calm, “I would order myself to be hanged if I were to allow my wife to ride into danger. You will remain safely within the keep. This time you will not disobey me, Chandra.”

“You ride into danger, and you are my husband. What, I pray, is the difference?”

“I have twice your strength and endurance. I am far more skilled than you. I am far more experienced than you. You would be no match for the Scots. Just as you are no match for me.”

“I beat Thoms in the tourney just last week.”

“Thoms, like every one of the men, would give up his life before allowing you to be harmed. It is more than that. I cannot afford to have any of them distracted by your presence. They as well as I would be protecting you, not fighting with all their wits.”

“I saved your life, Jerval. You were not protecting me that night Graelam nearly sent his sword through your belly.”

Jerval sighed. “I have not forgotten, Chandra, but it changes naught. It is my responsibility to keep you safe. You will remain here.”

“It is not fair.”

He could think of nothing more to say. No, there was something more. He gripped her upper arms very tightly and shook her just a bit. “If something happened to you, I would not want to go on. I must keep you from danger, or else I fail myself. Do you understand?”

She didn’t, of course. That brain of hers was already racing ahead to a confrontation with the enemy. “Of course you would go on,” she said. “All men go on. How long would you grieve for me? Mayhap a month?”

He sighed. “I will likely see you in a couple of days.” He turned on his heel, paused a moment at the door, and said over his shoulder, “You could wish me luck. You could kiss me, tell me you will pray for my safety. You could wish me Godspeed.”