Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) (19 page)

Geoffrey
froze in his tracks.

The king
wanted him—in London?

Edward
spoke bluntly. “London is full of sycophants and those who would do anything to
gain favor. They agree with me regardless of what I suggest, no matter how
outlandish it might seem.”

The king
paused. “I need men to serve me whom I can trust. I must put England’s best
interest at the heart of every matter. Surrounding myself with men of your
caliber is of utmost importance.” He smiled. “Besides, my son respects you.
That alone would have been all I needed to know about you.”

The king’s
words pained Geoffrey. “I beg of you, sire. Please do not issue that command.
‘Twould be miserable for me to be at court, in a mire of politicians and liars.
I doubt I could serve your best interests when burdened by such great personal
unhappiness.

“Look
around. You yourself admired Kinwick and my people. Here is my family. All I
ever desired. Merryn thrives here, too.”

“But she
would be the most celebrated beauty at court. Men would fall at her feet.” The
king’s brow wrinkled. “I could gift you with other properties and untold
wealth. I could raise you from baron to earl of the realm.”

He shook
his head. “But all that ‘twould mean nothing to me, sire. I intend no
disrespect. At heart, Merryn and I are simple people who would choose to avoid
the intrigues of court.”

Geoffrey
knew what he said displeased the king, but he continued. “I have been through
untold horrors, your majesty. I need to be at Kinwick to heal. I beg you leave
us intact, in peace. I give you my oath—my word of honor—that I will fight for
your name whenever called upon. I will give you all from taxes to troops to
humble advice, but I want to remain here.”

He watched
Edward consider his words as he tapped a finger along his jaw.

“How about
visits to London every now and then?” Edward countered. “Say I took your twins
under my wing. Instead of fostering in some nobleman’s household, they could
come to London and learn. Your boy could be one of my court pages, and your
girl could serve in the queen’s household. I would guarantee them advantageous
marriages, as well.”

Hope beat
in Geoffrey’s heart. His precious twins would not have to foster at
Winterbourne. To keep them from the place he most despised on this earth. To
have them serve the royal house of Plantagenet and be under the king’s
protection.

Yet his
promise to Hardi weighed heavily upon him.

“They are
promised to the earl of Winterbourne, sire. I suppose only he could alter our
agreement.”

Edward
clapped his hands once. “So be it. If agreeable to you and Lady Merryn, I shall
speak to Winterbourne.” His smile showed a few missing teeth. “My will is
strong, Lord Geoffrey. Mayhap even stronger than yours. I can be quite
persuasive when speaking with my noble subjects. We will bend the earl’s knee
on this issue.”

Cheers went
up in the distance. Symond Benedict rode over to where the king and Geoffrey
stood.

“The boar
has been felled, sire. The hunting party is ready to return to Kinwick.”

He and the
king remounted their horses and rode to join the others. As they made their way
to the castle, Geoffrey wondered what Hardi’s reaction would be to the king’s
request and if the young earl would defy Edward and hold Geoffrey to his word
to allow the twins to foster at Winterbourne.

***

Merryn
dressed with particular care in a cote-hardie of deep scarlet, fastening her
ever-present sapphire brooch next to her heart. She placed a belt of knotted
silver about her waist and tied matching ribbons in her hair. One ribbon went
into her pocket for later use.

Today was
the last day the royal court would be present at Kinwick. Edward had been in a
good mood throughout the visit. He’d glowed with pride at the ballads the
troubadour sang of his military victories. He laughed till tears spilled down
his cheeks at the antics of the jogelour. He and the queen graced the wedding
of Hardi and Johamma yesterday, and the royal ruler had eaten and drunk far
into the night at the feast celebrating their union.

All that remained
was today’s tournament, which would be held in the meadow next to the woods. All
the Kinwick tenants and their families were invited, as were the many nobles
who accompanied the royal summer progress. Some of them had signed up for the
joust and would compete with the knights of Kinwick, along with those of the
king’s guard. Edward had ruled that since they only had but a day, the joust
would be the sole event for men to participate in.

Merryn made
her way down to where Geoffrey slept. She’d suggested he retire to the estate
room, where he and Diggory reviewed estate business. ‘Twas a small space—but
private—and he’d readily agreed with her. It eased her mind that he hadn’t
slept with a hundred men bedded down on the rushes in the Great Hall.

She tapped
on the door and entered. Geoffrey already stood, dressed in russet and brown.
He ran fingers through his dark hair, trying to tame it. He turned and faced
her, his hazel eyes growing warm as he caught sight of her.

Merryn
walked to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You will compete today?”

“Aye. ‘Tis
simply a game. I shall probably lose in the first round. I am sorely out of
practice.”

She ran her
hands down his arms and captured his hands in hers. “’Tis not what I have
witnessed.”

His brows
shot up. “What mean you?”

“I have
watched some of the training exercises from the north tower. ‘Tis quite a nice
view of the yard from that vantage point.” She brought a hand to his chest.
“You have not been a mere observer, Geoffrey. I have seen you, along with
Gilbert, putting the men through their paces. You are easy to pick out, due to your
height and broad shoulders and your stance with a sword.”

He
shrugged. “Swordplay and such are one thing. The joust is entirely different.”

She cupped
his cheek. “You are a warrior, my love. You may not enjoy it, but ‘tis bred in
you. I shall cheer you on to victory this day.” Merryn removed the ribbon from
her pocket and tied it around his wrist. “I shall be with you as much as
Mystery this day.”

Geoffrey
gave her a searing kiss as a reward.

Merryn
pulled away. “I wish ‘twould be more than kissing we could do, but I have much
to accomplish before the tournament begins. Is your armor ready?”

“Aye. Ancel
and Alys both helped me polish it.” A shadow crossed his face.

“Something
wrong, my love?”

He sighed. “Alys
is quite my shadow. She gives her love easily. But Ancel? One minute he hangs
on my every word, and the next he acts disinterested in whatever I say.”

Merryn
wrapped her arms about his waist. “Be patient with him, Geoffrey. He went from
holding the title to Kinwick and believing he was my protector to a little boy
who had never seen his father. Ancel loves you, I’m sure. He’s simply a little
man who doesn’t share his feelings as easily as his sister.”

“I hope you
are right.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head and offered his arm. “Let us
attend mass so we have time to put the finishing details upon our joust.”

***

Merryn
found it hard to contain her excitement. Knights arrived at the field in full
armor. Ladies in an array of colors had given favors to those they cheered on.
Children ran about, squealing in delight at all the commotion.

Kinwick had
almost twenty knights, including its lord, entered into the contest. Hugh,
Raynor, and Hardi also competed. The king had several men from his royal guard
pursuing the prize. Geoffrey offered up a colt born in the spring that would
make a fine warhorse when he reached maturity. 

But Merryn
found herself dismayed to learn that Sir Symond Benedict would champion the
Plantagenet name for Edward. She had caught a few glimpses of him but had yet
to speak to him. If they came to face one another, she would have no words to
say. For a moment, she wondered how different her life might be if Geoffrey
hadn’t returned. Instead of celebrating the nuptial mass of Hardi and Johamma,
‘twould have been her own whilst the king looked on.

She raised
a silent prayer to God Almighty, thanking Him for bringing her husband back to
her.

Then she
turned to Johamma, sitting on her left. The young girl wore a wide smile as she
watched the men in action.

“I am sorry
you had to return to Winterbourne last night after the feast. Normally, I would
have offered you our solar, but with the king in residence there and every
other chamber in the keep taken, I appreciate you retiring to your new home.”

“’Twas no
problem at all, Lady Merryn. We are most grateful for not only a lovely wedding
but for the magnificent feast you provided. Everything from venison and mutton
to starlings and chickens. And all of the sweets. My teeth fairly ache today
thinking of all that I consumed.”

Merryn
laughed and leaned closer. “Not nearly as much as the king did.”

Johamma
said, “My husband thought your mead the best he’s ever tasted.” She bit her
lip, looking unsure of herself. “He hoped you might share your recipe with me
for when we entertain at Winterbourne.”

“’Tis all
in the ginger,” Merryn revealed. “Many people add too much or not enough. Each
gallon should have but a half-ounce. And ‘tis truly important to seal and store
the brew for no less than six months. You can’t be too eager to sample it.”

She placed
her hand atop Johamma’s. “I shall teach you how to make it myself.”

The younger
women smiled. “You are most generous, my lady.”

“Do I hear
talk of mead?”

Merryn
turned to her right and saw that Edward munched upon gundy.

“And ‘tis
the candy to your liking, sire? I make it with black treacle and seasoned it
with a bit of cinnamon.”

“You made
this?” He thought a moment. “Mayhap Lord Geoffrey should not be guarding your
cook after all. Mayhap he should be guarding you!” Edward tossed back his head
and laughed heartily.

The queen,
on her husband’s right, gave her a sweet smile. Merryn knew the feeling. If
Geoffrey ‘twere happy, then all seemed right in her world.

They sat
through dozens of matches, with only four men being slightly injured. Merryn
explained to Johamma, who was witnessing her first joust, that the contest was
a replication of a cavalry charge, with each knight riding briskly toward his
opponent, hoping his lance would unseat the other man. Merryn was sorry to see
both Hugh and Raynor eliminated after several rounds of the competition, but
two knights from Kinwick made it to the final eight men before going down in
defeat to Geoffrey and Symond.

Now all
that remained in the contest were four men. Symond would face Geoffrey,
followed by Hardi against Alard, one of Edward’s guard who’d been responsible
for both Hugh and Raynor’s losses.

Merryn
moved to the edge of her chair as Geoffrey made ready to her left and Symond to
her right. Each time Geoffrey rode, her nerves were raw, yet he had claimed
victory each time. She spied Hobard, the royal physician, arriving on the
field, having finished treating the last injury from two bouts prior. Then each
man lowered his helm, which protected their head and face. Both gripped a lance
in their hands. They awaited the signal to ride forward.

Merryn held
her breath as they reached one another. She saw Geoffrey’s lance make contact
on this first pass, jamming hard into Symond’s chest, sending him soaring into
the air. Though sorry for Symond, she boldly cheered for her husband, even
whistling loud as any man.

“My lady
seems quite excited at her husband’s victory over my champion,” Edward wryly
noted. “And where did you learn to use your fingers to whistle in such an
unladylike manner?”

She felt
the blush stain her cheeks. “My brother, sire. Hugh taught me to do so when I
was but a girl. For a good month, I drove my parents near the brink of madness.”

The king
patted her hand. “Mayhap you shall teach me this amusing skill.”

“I am sorry
your champion was unseated,” she said, demurely folding her hands in her lap.

His eyes
twinkled. “Are you truly, my lady?”

Merryn
grinned unabashedly. “Not in the least bit, sire,” she confided. She waved at
Geoffrey, who yanked off his helm and returned the wave. She watched Symond
come to his feet and remove himself from the field. It angered her when
Geoffrey went to the knight and offered him a hand. Symond shrugged it off and
strode away.

That one
gesture made her feel Symond Benedict was not anywhere near the caliber of her
husband, who was a gentleman through and through. She sat back in her chair to
await the next match, doubly glad that Symond Benedict had lost.

Hardi
easily unseated Sir Alard on the third pass. Johamma stood and merrily waved a
handkerchief at her new husband, who rode up to her and snatched it from her
fingers. His laughter could be heard as his horse galloped away.