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

who had fallen ill, bearing a special broth that Julian made, and bringing flowers to those who had recently given birth.

Initially cold and aloof in response to her kindness, the people gradually began to overlook her past and supposed betrayal of her people. They even began to develop a grudging respect for her, particularly after she met with lona.

“Julian has need of more help in the kitchens,” she stated hesitantly to lona from the doorway, not having been asked inside. “It pays a farthing more per week than you were making as a servant at the Manor, and Lord Calder and I would be grateful if you would consider coming back to work for him.”

lona had been very bitter toward both of them after Calder fired her from the Manor but, never having liked working the fields, she was grateful for the opportunity to have a job inside once again.

“I would like that, Milady,” she answered respectfully, still somewhat reserved, but able now, if not to develop a friendship with Regan, to at least tolerate her and give her the necessary respect.

Regan also sat with Calder at the weekly judicial hearings, remaining quiet unless she felt that she could interject something to aid her people. Calder realized the value of her experience with them and saw that relations were beginning to improve, so he generally conceded to her suggestions.

RadoIf had more friends nowadays and several began to join him in the afternoons when Regan instructed him on his lessons. Soon the Hall was filled with the giggles and whispers of children as parents decided to take advantage of the situation and insisted on their own children joining in. It gave Regan a great sense of fulfillment to be able to teach them their letters and numbers.

Radolf had further instruction later in the day, from his father. They spent several hours before dinner learning how to properly shoot a bow and to handle weapons. And, again, some of the older boys, done by that time of day helping their fathers in the fields, came to learn, as well.

Calder eventually had to enlist the aid of some of his knights to help and Draco fashioned additional wooden swords that they used for practice.

 

            

 

Bernia and Garrick returned later in the summer. A tendon had been severed in Garrick's arm during the melee and he had required more of Gideon's care than the others. Bernia cut short her apprenticeship to accompany him back.

The night that Garrick arrived, he sat dismally with Calder and Regan after dinner, drinking tankard after tankard of ale. “I'm useless to you now, Calder. My arm will never have the strength again to wield a sword in battle.”

Calder heard the resignation in his voice and his brow furrowed in concern. Garrick was a fearless warrior, but now it seemed as if he felt he had nothing to offer anyone. Calder ignored his words. “You seem to have become quite close with Bernia.”

“Before the tourney, I actually considered asking for her hand,” he said with a self-depreciating laugh. “Now I am not even good enough for a Saxon wench.”

His widening gaze flew to Regan and he quickly added, “My apologies, Milady.”

“Your apology is accepted,” she answered warmly, realizing the depths of his despondency.

“So, what will you do now?” Calder asked callously. “Drink yourself into oblivion? Curl up into a ball and die?”

Garrick looked at him sharply. “You cannot understand what it feels like to no longer be the man that you once were.”

“No, I can't,” Calder replied, trying to keep any sympathy or pity from his voice. “But can you not determine now what kind of man you will be? I have need of a Woodward to oversee my forests and lands, to make sure no one is poaching or cutting down what is not theirs. Does a weak arm prevent you from doing that service for me? Does it keep you from loving and being loved by a decent woman? Does it keep you from marrying her and accepting some land from me and building a new and, possibly, even better life? Or will you just give up altogether?”

Garrick looked at him with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You would do that for me?”

Calder grinned at him. “How many times have you taken a cut in order to protect me? I need someone like you for this job, someone that I can trust. Of course, I would do it, not for you, but for my own benefit.”

“Thank you, Milord.” His gratitude was evident by the expression on his face. “I think mayhap it's time that I cleaned up a little and paid a visit to Bernia, if you will excuse me.”

“Good e'en to you, Garrick. And good luck.”

After he left, Regan took Calder's hand in her own. Her eyes were filled with love and adoration as she gazed at him. “You are such a good man, Calder. It makes me proud to be your wife.”

“What did I do?” he asked in confusion. “I spoke nothing but the truth to Garrick.”

“Yes, but you did it in such a way as to allow him to keep his pride. Everything is going along so well, isn't it?” she asked, sure that nothing could make her happier than she was at that moment.

“The only thing that could make life better is this little devil arriving soon,” he said, placing his hands tenderly over her well-rounded belly. “Then all will be as it should be.”

But, he would never have spoken with such eager anticipation if he knew what lay in store for them just a few days hence.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 28

 

 

Calder hurried back to the castle with Radolf riding in front of him. Their lessons had gone on longer than usual this day.

“Any fool knows that peacock feathers are no match for goose feathers for fletching arrows, no matter what Aart tells you,” Calder was instructing as they arrived at the stables and dismounted.

He insisted that Radolf help in currying down Alerio and preparing his feed, then they walked together into the Hall. Calder was surprised that Regan was not there to greet them, but thought she must be resting before the evening meal.

Sitting down at his table, a cup of ale was placed in front of him almost before he was comfortably settled in. He sighed in satisfaction as he took a healthy draught. Since he began hiring newcomers to work in the castle, service had improved tenfold. Even the original villagers were becoming more courteous and accommodating in their chores. It seemed almost a competition of sorts, with the original villagers trying to outdo the newcomers.

Whatever their motivation, it gave Calder a great deal of satisfaction to see things running so smoothly. Due, in no small part, to Regan. Always polite, but firm and determined at the same time, she ruled over the servants as fairly and reasonably as she could, but accepted no slights, nor insolence on their part. Her self-esteem had risen greatly when she became Lady of the Manor and her assertiveness was a wonder to behold.

Calder frowned in irritation as his thoughts were interrupted by an annoying sound coming from the fireplace.

“What are you doing, Orvyn?” he asked, looking around for Radolf. The boy was nowhere to be seen, having skipped off to the kitchen to steal a snack before dinner.

“Stop it, boy,” Calder said a little more firmly, as the dog continued to whine and dig at the base of the fireplace.

“What the hell is your problem?” he asked, his patience wearing thin when the dog continued to ignore him.

Striding angrily over to the mutt and grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, Calder suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and the blood froze in his veins.

Slowly, he bent down and picked up the gold medallion lying in front of the fireplace. Running the chain through his fingers, he felt a tremor of fear run up his spine. Bounding up the stairs, two at a time, he prayed that he was wrong.

He was not. The bedchamber was empty when he slammed the door back against the wall.

Running back downstairs, he began bellowing orders. All of the knights were called to the Hall and Radolf was taken to the kitchen for his dinner. The servants were brought in one after the other, but none had seen Regan since early afternoon.

Calder sent his knights to search the entire castle and grounds, but knew they would not find her. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, emotions coursing through him that he had never experienced before. In his image of himself as a man, he had never allowed for the possibility of being so utterly humbled by fear. It was imbedded so deeply that he worried he would not be able to overcome it and think clearly enough to get Regan back.

“Are you sure that she was taken?” Draco asked, his own worry beginning to equal Calder's.

In answer, Calder raised the gold medallion. “I gave this to Regan a long time ago and told her to send it to me should she ever need my help. Since Edgar died, she has never removed it from around her neck. The chain is broken. She tore it free and left it for me to find. Yes, someone has taken her.”

“But, the chain could have broken on its own, Milord, and fallen unnoticed.”

“Then where is she?” Calder's voice boomed throughout the Hall. Taking a deep breath, realizing that losing control would not help Regan, he continued in a quieter voice.

“I find it so ironic, I struggled to get this castle built quickly, to protect us all. Now that it is about done, I have relaxed my guard and allowed people in and out without worrying about their intentions. I have been blind and now someone, most likely that bastard Roderick, has taken Regan from under my very nose.”

“We will find her, Milord,” Draco promised as he left the castle to help in the search. Calder continued to pace in front of the fireplace, running the chain continuously through his nervous fingers, feeling impotent and useless as he waited for word from his