If Not For The Knight, Debbie Boek [electronic reader TXT] 📗

leaned down and kissed him thoroughly before retrieving her clothes and putting them on. He watched silently as she dressed and left the room. He lay there for a long while afterward, not even hearing the sounds of the village and Manor waking up to greet the new day, as he considered Regan. It was time to make a decision as to what he would do so that she could be with him every night, and not have to sneak out of the Manor in the dark so that no one would see her.

Soon, he promised himself, she will be mine in every way.

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

 

The cold and frost came early that fall. Everyone was in a fever to finish what needed to be done so that they could survive the long winter ahead. The entire hamlet was a frenzy of activity.

Calder was forced to put a complete halt to the work at the castle while he and his men oversaw the supplying of the Manor. Calder’s duties mainly involved being available for the villagers when they came to discuss the amount of grain or slaughtered meat that they would barter to the lord, in lieu of paying coin for their taxes.

Once an agreement was reached, after much labored debating, Calder then had to see to it that the barley and apples were taken to the Brewster for ale and cider, the hay and oats to the Avener so the horses could be fed over the winter, the meat to the Butler for smoking and storage, and so on and so on.

The area beneath the Manor was brimming with foodstuffs of all kinds, and the haze never cleared from the air over the village as mutton, pork and beef were smoked continuously. The meat and fish not smoked were put into barrels with salt to preserve it over the winter. Onions, potatoes, turnips and other vegetables were stored in bins throughout the great room and barrels of spices lined the walls to dry.

Many were disheartened when the snows arrived early, the sight of its pristine whiteness beautiful to behold, but its arrival deadly due to the amount of crops it killed before they could be harvested. It would be a lean winter for them all.

Calder announced the time of the Harvest Festival and, before long, merchants and peddlers began to arrive with their carts and wagons full of items to barter or buy. Word had spread throughout the countryside and people from all over arrived to join in the fun.

There were games of chance and a wagon full of gypsies, ready to foretell anyone’s future, for the right coin, of course. The villagers were more lighthearted than they had been since the Normans first reached their shores and enjoyed themselves to the fullest. There would be time enough to worry over their current state of affairs once the festival was over.

The festival continued for several days. Each night, Calder saw that his own cattle or pigs were slaughtered and cooked over a large outside spit for everyone to share. He made sure that there were plenty of kegs of ale opened to accompany the meat, and his men found them empty each morning.

There was music and dancing, and people were able to forget for a short while about the difficult months that lie ahead of them. Some of the villagers were so carefree that they even spoke to Calder as he strode through the festival periodically. He tried to be pleasant to them in return, but could not forget that these were the same people who had mumbled and sworn about his every move since his arrival, the same people who tormented Regan and his son. He would be as nice as possible, but he would not trust that their congeniality would last any longer than the length of the festival.

Neither he nor his men spent much time at the festival. The villagers seemed less subdued if they were not around, and he did not want to give them a chance to let the ale work them up into a frenzy and have them start trouble with his men. Calder did spend some time around the merchants’ wagons until he found what he was looking for and then made several purchases. With Draco’s assistance, he carried them toward Regan’s cottage.

 

      

Regan took Radolf to the festival on the day that it began and, although the townspeople had not been so blatantly offensive to them since the rock throwing incident, the cold stares and muttered names as they walked by made her uncomfortable. They returned home again after just a short time and, although Radolf was disappointed, he did not fuss too badly.

She was surprised by a knock on her door one evening and even more taken aback when Calder and Draco strode through it with their arms full. “Milord, what is this?”

Calder smiled triumphantly, as he carefully set some items on the table. “Is Radolf here?”

“He’s sleeping.”

“Wake him, please. I have a present for him.”

Smiling to herself and feeling warm and happy just because Calder was nearby, she hurried over behind the blanket to wake Radolf. Gently shaking his shoulder, she said quietly, “Lord Calder is here with a surprise for you.”

Yawning and stretching, the boy made his way over to Calder, his eyes widening and all sleepy thoughts disappearing as he looked at what Calder held in his hands.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A marionette. Watch.” Calder played with the strings on the colorfully clothed puppet, making it appear as if it was moving its arms and legs on its own.

Radolf laughed with delight and clapped his hands together. “Zounds,” he said excitedly, “can I try it?”

“Of course, it’s my gift to you.”

Radolf ran toward him and started to grab the puppet, but was stopped cold by a stern matronly voice.

“What do you say first, Radolf?”

“Thank you, Lord Cawer.”

“You’re welcome, Radolf. Give me a hug and then run and play.”

He hugged Calder tightly, then turned and ran back to his pallet, lost to them now, as he became completely engrossed with his new toy.

Realizing that this was his cue, Draco cleared his throat and said, “I will go now and make sure all is well at the festival. Good evening, Milady.” With a nod in her direction, he walked toward the door.

“Good evening to you, Draco,” Regan replied, just before he shut it behind him.

“And what is this, Milord? More gifts?” she asked, indicating the large wooden crate sitting on the floor between them.

“I thought some eggs might be welcome by you both, so I brought you chickens.” He flushed, feeling silly suddenly for doing such a thing.

She smiled warmly at him. “You are a very thoughtful man, Milord. Thank you for both gifts.”

“Twas nothing,” he said, looking abashed.

“Twas much, Calder, and I do appreciate it.” He was sitting in one of the small kitchen chairs and she moved closer to him, pulling his head against her chest and running her hands through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

Leaning down, she kissed the top of his head, then whispered, “Thank you.”

Unable to resist her nearness, he raised his face and drew her head down toward his own, kissing her deeply and savoring the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms.

“I’ve missed you, Regan. I fear I’ve been so busy lately, that I’ve not had any time to spend with you or Radolf.”

“We have all been busy, Milord. It is that time of the year….oh!” she exclaimed breathlessly, as he deftly turned her around and sat her on his lap.

Checking quickly to make sure Radolf was still playing with his puppet, he turned his attention back to Regan. Burying his fingers in her long, rich hair, he drew her forward until their lips were barely touching, flicking his tongue playfully over hers before taking full possession.

He finally released her mouth, but the passion in his eyes belied his desire to do so. Running his finger around her full lips, then caressing her cheek and staring deeply into those luminous green orbs, he said, “The King has ordered my presence. I must leave for London in a few days.”

He watched those same beautiful eyes cloud over as his words registered and she sat watching him quietly. “Will he let you come back to us?”

“Of course, he will,” Calder replied, curious at her response. “Why would you ask that?”

“It is the King’s land that we live on, is it not?”

“Yes.”

“He can make anyone that he chooses our Overlord, can he not?”

“Yes.”

“Why else would he call for you to return to London? Your brother was never required to go.” Tears began to form in her eyes and a strong fist squeezed her heart, as she realized how close she might be to losing Calder forever.

“Don’t cry, Regan,” he said softly, using his finger to wipe away the single tear traveling down her cheek. “King William is my friend. He asked me to come here, gave me these lands against my wishes. He wouldn’t take them back now. He wants me to let him know how the castle is coming and to bring his heregeld, of course. That is all.”

“Are you sure?”

Calder smiled. “Yes, I am sure. You can’t be rid of me that easily, cheri.”

Feeling embarrassed at her insecurity, Regan buried her head against his chest and held him tight. “How long will you be gone?”

“I am not sure. It will depend on how long it takes me to get an audience once I reach London. The King is very busy and everyone wants his time. With any luck, it’ll just be a few weeks.”

“I will miss you,” Regan said, her tears burning his skin through his tunic.