If Not For The Knight by Debbie Boek (ebook reader below 3000 TXT) 📖

“Oh, no, Milord,” she cried. “What will people say?”

“I haven't a care what they say,” he replied firmly. “The winter is not over. There is still snow on the ground and it is too difficult to get the supplies needed to repair your cottage enough to make it livable. I will not have the two of you struggling through the winter, trying to keep from starving and freezing, not when there are beds and food and warmth available here.”

He had not been entirely honest with her. He and his men could have fixed up her cottage in no time, and they could also ensure that she had enough firewood and food. But he enjoyed having the two of them close by and, selfishly, would say or do whatever he had to in order to keep them there.

Regan stared into the deep grains of wood in the heavy table. On the one hand, she was relieved that they would be staying. She certainly did not want to have to struggle into the forest every day for wood anymore. But her mother had told her about the rebelliousness of the villagers. She knew that it was because of her and did not want to make the situation any worse than it already was. She had already placed Bernia and her mother in danger, just for the part they played in helping during her illness.

“There is naught to worry about, Regan,” Calder said.

“What of the villagers?”

He scowled as he replied. “There is much that needs to be done as far as my relationship with them. Come spring, I hope to improve the situation, but I will not have them dictate to me who shall live in my house.”

Seeing her worried face, he continued. “Already more and more people pour in from the countryside, looking for land to farm, or jobs within the castle. When it is completed, your villagers, the ones here before we Normans came, will have choices to make. They will be able to see how much richer this area will be, as will the people that dwell in it. Hopefully, they will strive to cooperate and better their own lot in life.”

She smiled as she squeezed his hand, hope glistening in her eyes. “You truly believe that?” she asked.

“I have to believe it,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If the troublemakers do not desist, I will be forced to banish them. I do not want to have to do that, but I will if it becomes necessary. If we cannot make a community that works together, we will have nothing.”

“Does not my remaining here encourage more trouble?”

Leaning close and whispering against her ear, Calder said, “Whatever trouble you cause is well worth it. I need you like the air I breathe. I cannot bear to have you far from me for any length of time.”

Regan blushed and stared down at their entwined fingers.

“Momma,” Radolf yelled as he ran toward her, the puppy, refreshed from its short nap, now nipping at his heels once again.

“Hello, my handsome man,” Regan greeted him, removing her hand from Calder's and reaching toward Radolf. “Are you behaving yourself for Lord Calder?”

“Of course, Mamma,” Radolf replied, crawling into her lap and hugging her waist. “Are you all better now?”

“Almost. I am well enough that you can sleep upstairs with me on the big bed now.”

She was hurt and bewildered by the crushed look that appeared on his face. “I thought you missed me,” she said forlornly.

“I do, Momma,” he answered, his brow creased and his lips twisted as he fought his disappointment.

“I believe the boy enjoys the camaraderie of the knights, who also sleep in the Hall,” Calder interjected.

RadoIf nodded his head vigorously.

“His pallet always lies closest to the fire, and the mutt,” Calder inclined his head toward the puppy, which sat patiently staring up at Radolf, his tongue lolling comically out the side of his mouth “sleeps on his feet to keep them warm.”

“It's fun, Momma. I'm not alone anymore.”

Regan blinked back her tears and brushed a curl back from his forehead. “My little boy is growing up,” she said quietly.

It saddened her to realize that he no longer needed or depended on her as he always had. But at the same time, it filled her with a profound joy that he was finally happy, that he had people to play with and to look out for him. Hopefully, he might even have friends his own age to play with before too long, rather than these large, brutish knights, who only behaved as if they were children.

“I can sleep down here, Momma?” he asked, his beautiful blue eyes, so like his father's, gazed at her, wide and trusting.

“If it pleases you, RadoIf, you may.”

“Thank you,” he said with a loud, wet smack on her cheek. Then he leapt off of her lap and ran squealing across the room.

“Don't look so sad,” Calder said to her softly, his voice filled with tenderness. “I will see to it that you do not get lonely in that big bedchamber all by yourself.”

“That is most reassuring, Milord,” she replied with a measured look. “You would not have had anything to do with Radolf insisting on sleeping down here, would you? I'm sure you could not be so deceitful as to take advantage of a young boy for the sole purpose of leaving his mother unprotected in the Lord's bedchamber, could you?”

With a mischievous grin, he replied, “Fortunately, I did not have to try my powers of persuasion on the boy this time. He came up with the idea all on his own. But, know this,” he lowered his voice even more, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, “nothing will stop me from sleeping by your side any longer. And as soon as you are strong enough, there will be a little less sleeping than you have become accustomed to.”

“I grow stronger by the minute, Milord.”

The Christmas season was fast approaching and the tension in the village seemed to dissipate as anticipation of the Winter Solstice infected everyone. Entertainers of all sorts had been arriving for the fortnight of celebrations, and spirits were high in both the Manor and the village.

Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny, with no hint of snow in the air. There had been an Angels Mass at midnight and Regan, feeling much healthier now, sat proudly between Calder and RadoIf in the front pew, ignoring the hard stares of the other attendees.

The new priest, Father Simon, gave a beautiful sermon. He expounded on the notion that the light of salvation appeared at the darkest moment of the darkest day in the very depth of winter, The Winter Solstice, when the sun stands still, making it the shortest day of the year.

Regan took the time as she listened to him to hope and pray that this was, indeed, the darkest time for them all. That from here on in, life would continue to improve so that they could work together as a community once again, giving Calder his due as a fair and just leader, as their leader.

CHAPTER 24

The feasting and partying began that afternoon. Calder had Gayle extend invitations to several families in the village, asking them to join him at the Manor. He left it to her discretion as to whom to invite, but hoped this would be another way to get to know these people and, perhaps, allay their suspicions and fears about him and his men.

At first the villagers seemed uncomfortable and out of place, but Gayle had been shrewd enough to bring young couples with children. They had none of the reservations of their parents and gleefully joined in the fun, forgetting even that it was Radolf they were allowing to play with them.

There were tumblers and minstrels, music and dancing, as well as mummers in curious costumes who acted in verse. Wine and ale were plentiful and the Christmas feast was magnificent.

Calder brought back a chief cook from London, Julian, who had apprenticed in the castle of the King himself. He outdid himself as he prepared roasted salmon with wine sauce, poached fowl and bacon with pudding, fried fig pastries with warm honey spooned over them, Grete Pye—chicken, duck and hare mixed with eggs, fruits and spices, then put into a pastry pie. And, of course, the succulent slices of the Yule Boar, which had been basted in wine with garlic, coriander and other spices as it roasted over a spit, filling the room with its delectable aroma.

Once the dishes from all of the various courses had been cleared, Julian's wife, Carina, who was now the Manor's patisser, brought out the subletie, a sculpture made of a jelly and sugar paste several tiers high. She made it in the shape of the castle which would soon be completed, and Calder was very pleased.

Radolf ate little of the feast, having gorged himself, along with the other children, on pine nut candy, Leche Lumbard and other sweetmeats for most of the day.

The banquet lasted long into the night, with much gaiety and laughter. Calder was relieved to see that his men and the villagers in attendance were able to get along and enjoy themselves. He had no doubt that the presence of Bernia, Gayle and Wallis helped in that matter. They had spent enough time in the Manor to become acquainted with his knights and were able to help the others relax and join in the festivities.

Regan had never participated in such an event and enjoyed herself immensely. Calder's men insisted on taking their turns leading her across the dance floor, and she felt like a young girl again. She did not mind that the villagers tended to ignore her; she was having too much fun anyway, and her heart threatened to burst with joy as she watched Radolf playing with the other children.

The only sad part of the entire day was Filbert’s refusal to join them. Regan could see her own heartache reflected in her mother's eyes. It seemed as if he had chosen his side in this breach between the villagers