Authors: Kathryn le Veque
Kieran’s gaze held steady for a moment but that was as much self-control as he had. As Rory watched, his jaw went slack and his eyes took on the strangest glimmer.She could feel his grip tightening around her and then suddenly, he was off the chair and on his knees.He pulled her against him fiercely and buried his face in her bare bosom. Startled, Rory forgot her tears for the moment as Kieran practically crumbled in front of her.
“Kieran?” her hands were on his head, trying to lift it from her chest. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
He refused to let her go or allow her to lift his head. He just held her, tightly, and she stopped trying to force him to look at her, unsure what was going on with him. Suddenly, she wasn’t so scared anymore. She was more concerned about Kieran at the moment so she simply put her arms around his head and held him against her breasts. She wasn’t sure what else to do.
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, the only sound in the room. After what seemed like a small eternity, Kieran finally lifted his head. She looked at his expression, trying to read what he was thinking, and was shocked to see that his eyes were moist with tears.Before she could ask him why he was so upset, he put his massive hands on her cheeks and looked her in the eye.
“I am the most fortunate man in the entire world,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes glittering with jubilation. “To be so blessed is something I hoped for but did not expect. I did not want to be disappointed. But you… you have made me the happiest man to ever walk this earth. I cannot explain it more than that.”
His unadulterated joy touched her deeply. It eased her fear a great deal and she began to feel some of his joy.
“Really?” she grinned timidly.
He nodded, kissing her so sweetly that her entire body tingled with delight. “Really,” he whispered against her lips.
The tears came again as she felt his adoration, his sheer delight. She was exhausted and hormonal, giving in to the gentle kisses he was raining over her face.
“I want the best midwife and surgeon in the country,” she sniffled.
“I promise you shall have it,” he murmured, dragging his lips across her jaw. “You and my son shall have the very best of everything, I swear it.”
“It could be a girl, you know,” she reminded him.
He reached a hand over and picked up the big linen sheet she used to dry off, picking her up and wrapping her up tightly in it.
“My mother had four boys,” he said. “My father also had two brothers and his father had three. Male children run heavily in my family.”
“Would you be disappointed if it was a girl?”
He gave her a look that suggested she was mad. “Of course not,” he said. “Would you?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, drying off. “But I’m still really scared.”
He smiled faintly at her. “No need, sweetheart. I promise I will not let anything happen to you. Do you believe me?”
She couldn’t tell him no. Smiling weakly, she nodded. “I believe you.”
His smile broadened and he kissed her again. “Good,” he said, putting her to her feet. “Now, I am going to procure some food. Will you be all right while I am gone?”
She could see that her news had changed everything; she could just read it in his face. He was going to treat her like she was made of the most fragile, breakable glass for the next seven months and she nodded patiently. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’d really like white bread, butter and honey if they have it.”
“Of course,” he was heading for the door, lighter of mood than she had ever seen him; he was usually fairly serious and calm. He looked like a giddy teenager. “Anything else?”
She looked at him, laughing softly. “You look silly.”
“Silly?”
She nodded, grinning. “Like you’re bouncing around all over the place.”
He suddenly moved back to her, cupping her face in his enormous hands and kissing her deeply. “I am,” he murmured, kissing her swiftly one last time and moving back to the door. “I shall return.”
“Okay,” she turned away, looking for her clothes. “Bring Bud and David when you come back. They’re hungry, too.”
“As you say, madam.”
Kieran shut the door, leaving Rory hunting for her clothing. He moved down the short hallway to the sturdy stone staircase that led into the main room downstairs.His head was still spinning with the news, thrilled beyond measure. A son, he thought to himself, someone to carry on the Hage name, a proud reflection of his proud parents. The next Viscount of Dykemoor and Sewall, heir to the baronetcies left to him by his mother.He was full of big plans for his son already as he hit the bottom of the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. As he entered the smoky, dark area of the inn where there were a few tables for eating, he was met by the tall and rather debonair innkeeper.
The man had short dark hair and an elegant air about him. He greeted Kieran with a swift bow.
“My lord Viscount,” he said. “Someone came here a short time ago asking if I knew of an English knight by the name of Kieran Hage. I told him no and sent him away.”
Kieran’s expression didn’t change although he felt some trepidation. “Did he say what he wanted?”
The innkeeper shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he replied. “But he was very dark. A Moor.”
“A Moor?” Kieran’s trepidation deepened. “Did he give his name?”
“Nay, my lord.”
“Did you watch him leave? Which direction did he go?”
The innkeeper motioned for Kieran to follow him and they moved through the main part of the inn where several people were sitting, drinking. The innkeeper opened the large and surprisingly well-fitting front door, pointing down the avenue.
“Down there, somewhere,” he pointed. “Perhaps he has gone to ask other innkeepers if they know you.”
Kieran’s dark eyes studied the street; the sun had set and the cobbled streets were muddy and shadowed. The only light was from the windows of various homes and establishments along the avenue and Kieran continued to study the area, looking for any tiny measure of movement. He saw nothing. Stepping back inside the tavern, he pulled the innkeeper with him and shut the door.
He dug into the purse he kept inside his leather vest and slipped the man a couple of coins. “Take your finest meal up to my wife,” he told him. “If she wants to know where I am, you know nothing. Is that clear?”
The innkeeper nodded. “You shall be obeyed, my lord.”
“And she wants white bread with butter and honey. Make all effort to obtain it and you shall be well paid.”
“It will be my pleasure, my lord.”
“Good. Now, go.”
The innkeeper swiftly moved away and Kieran opened the front door, slipping out into the dark and cool night. Although he was without his armor, he still had two dirks shoved into his boots and would be able to defend himself if necessary. More than anxiety, he was deeply curious who would be looking for him. It was possible that assassins had followed them from the Holy Land, but based on the description of the man from the innkeeper, he wasn’t entirely sure why a Moor would be looking for him. He didn’t know any Moors. His curiosity grew.
There were two other taverns on this road, lesser establishments than the one he was staying in. He slinked up to one of them, staying close to the wall as he peered into a window. Whiffs of stanky air met his nose as he watched the people inside, looking for a dark and swarthy man. His eyes studied the room. Not seeing anyone that fit the description, he moved on.
The next tavern was further down the road, almost to the edge of town. He made his way to the structure but the windows were over his head and difficult to look in to. He tried several times to prop himself up to take a look. Unable to achieve this, he made the decision to go inside.
He was tense as he entered the crowded establishment, smelling of smoke and roast meat. There were a few oil lamps throughout the room but most of the light came from the blazing hearth that was spitting a good deal of smoke into the room. Kieran moved into the room, his gem-clear brown eyes moving about the room, studying faces and body language, looking for the Moor that had been searching for him. All he saw were pale skinned people, looking at him with equal suspicion, so he backed his way out of the room and left.
He quickly returned to his tavern, focused on returning to Rory and the joyous news she had delivered. If a Moor was looking for him, then he suspected they would find each other soon enough. It would make him more on his guard, which was already in overdrive after Rory’s news. He had to get her home and safe inside the massive walls of Southwell.
He blew into the tavern, taking the stone steps two at a time. Moving swiftly down the hall, he knocked heavily on the door to his room. No doubt Rory would bolt it. He could hear voices inside, mostly hers, and assumed she was talking to the boys. The next thing he saw was her smiling face.
“Hi,” she said, opening the door wide. “Look who’s here?”
Kieran entered the chamber, his gaze moving immediately to the other occupants. He saw Bud and David, sitting at the table eating, and someone else standing near the hearth. As recognition dawned, his jaw dropped.
“Yusef?” he said, disbelieving, his gaze then moving to a tiny old figure seated at the table. “Kaleef?”
Yusef appeared exhausted and unshaven but smiled warmly at his friend. The old alchemist did the same, waving a gnarled hand. Kieran moved into the room, shocked, and put a gigantic hand on Yusef’s shoulder. Yusef returned the gesture, genuinely glad to see his English friend.
“My friend,” he greeted Kieran. “I am so glad to see that God has protected you in your journey.”
Kieran just stared at him. “You are the Moor who has been looking for me?”
Yusef nodded. “Old Kaleef and I have been following you for weeks. We had hoped to find you very soon.”
The surprise of Yusef’s appearance was replaced by a very strong sense of anxiety. There was obviously a powerful reason behind their appearance. Kieran’s warm expression faded, his gem-clear brown eyes focused on the Saracen.
“Why have you been looking for me?” his voice lowered. “Is something amiss?”
Yusef’s warm smile faded and his eyes flicked to Rory and the two young boys. “Perhaps we should speak in private.”
Kieran took him next door to the room where the boys were sleeping. It was tiny but private. Shutting the door, he turned to his Saracen friend.
“What is going on?” he demanded quietly. “Why in God’s name have you followed me for weeks?”
Yusef’s smile was gone. “I had to locate you,” he said softly. “I have news.”
“It must be very important.”
Yusef was exhausted; he sat heavily on the small bed in the room and removed his turban, wiping his brow with his hand. “Right after you left, a knight by the name of du Bois found me,” he began. “Do you know him?”
Kieran nodded slowly. “Rhys is one of my closest friends. What did he say?”
“He told me that one of de Corlet’s men broke faith and confessed all to the king, including the fact that you were not a traitor as de Corlet had told him,” Yusef watched Kieran’s expression tighten. “When Simon found out that the king knew of his lies, he fled. It is believed he has fled back to England, just as you are. I had to warn you, Kieran. You are both heading home and I did not want you to be caught unaware in case you came upon him.”