CHAPTER TEN
One week later
London, England
It was only the second time Rory had ever been to London, but the skyline was nothing as she remembered. No Big Ben, no London Eye, no buildings of steel and glass that had become fixtures in modern London. As the barge they were traveling upon rolled slowly up the Thames, Rory was enamored with the Medieval sights at hand. It was truly an amazing experience.
It was a chilly day with a brisk breeze and big, puffy clouds scooted across the sky. There was a storm approaching from the west and the entire western horizon was blanketed with dark and angry clouds. But overhead, it was blue but for the breezy white clouds. Wrapped tightly against the elements, Rory was thrilled to have finally arrived.
Paris had been something of a disappointment; no Eiffel Tower or other buildings she was familiar with. But she did notice it to be a rather neat and continental city. Sure, there were some nasty areas, but the right bank of the Seine seemed to be clean and well-traveled. Kieran had picked a tavern overlooking the river about a mile south of Notre Dame Cathedral, which was standing but not nearly what Rory knew of it in her century. In fact, the entire city was somewhat backwater from what she knew until Kieran took her shopping the next day and she realized that Paris was a Medieval shopper’s dream. Many merchant roads converged in the city and she bought more fabric, more skin oils and creams, more fragrances and more trinkets for Bud and David than she should have. They bought the boys small wooden swords and the kids were in high heaven. But Kieran liked to see her happy and, at this point in their travels, spending money was about the only thing that made her happy. She was exhausted and he understood that.
So they pressed onward the next day and took a boat from Calais to Dover, whereupon they switched boats and ended up on a barge that was to dock in London. It took the barge a few hours to move down the Thames and into the city.
Kaleef, Bud and David stood with Rory on the deck of the barge, watching the sights. Rory grew particularly excited when she caught sight of the Tower of London, which was absolutely nothing like the Tower she was used to. In fact, it took her a moment to realize what it was because it didn’t have the shape or size of what it had in modern times. It had a massive curtain wall, of course, and the White Tower was obvious in the center of it, but it didn’t seem to encompass nearly the acreage that it had in modern times. Clearly, it was a large castle but not nearly as large as it was going to be in the future. Still, it was a fascinating sight.
The docks of London were just to the west of the Tower and immediately before an enormous bridge that spanned the river. That, too, took Rory a moment to recognize; it was the London Bridge as she had never seen it. The barge docked on what looked like an actual pier and Rory was thrilled that she wasn’t going to have to be carried ashore. Kieran and Yusef eventually joined the group, whereupon Kieran directed the two young boys to help with the baggage. Already, several dock hands were moving their trunks to the wagon that was waiting on the pier and the little orphan boys, now fatter with food, good treatment and rest, ran to assist. They were good little workers.
Yusef aided Kaleef down the gangway to the pier while Kieran took his wife in hand. Her boots, which she had worn since the day they had arrived at Nahariya, made big, booming noises as they made their way down the old, wooden gangway. Kieran looked at his well-dressed wife, clad in a beautiful, pale blue surcoat and matching cloak, and was deeply pleased with the vision. But the boots did nothing for her beauty.
“Lib,” he said casually as they reached the pier. “Would you permit me to purchase proper shoes for you while we are here?”
She looked down at her work boots, the same boots she’d had since college. They were old, worn, but extremely comfortable. He had a point, however. They looked extremely out of place with the fine clothing Kieran had purchased for her. She pursed her lips wryly.
“Do I have to?” she asked.
He smiled. “I am offering to buy you something. Normally, the words are not even out of my mouth before you are agreeing. Why do you not want new shoes?”
She looked back at her boots. “Because I like these,” she said softly. “They’re something from home, something of mine. They’re comforting.”
He put his hand on her arm, rubbing her affectionately. “You do not have to dispose of them,” he said gently. “But you have so many lovely new clothes and those shoes simply do not complement them.”
She gazed up at him, knowing he was just trying to be kind. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest as he enveloped her in his enormous arms.
“Maybe a new pair or two would be okay,” she said. “But I would really like to keep my boots.”
“I will bury you in them if it pleases you.”
She giggled and he kissed the top of her head, releasing her and turning away to boom orders to some deck hands who were roughly handling their trunks. Then he turned to Bud and David, emitting a soft whistle and motioning for them to follow when he caught their attention. They went back up the gangway and went to the stern of the barge where Liberator and the ponies were tethered. Kieran took Liberator in hand while the boys each grabbed a pony. They led the animals off the barge while a deck hand pulled the cart off onto the pier.
Rory stood with Yusef and Kaleef as Kieran supervised the organization of their possessions. The boys were hitching up the pony cart, which had actually become more theirs than Rory’s. They took great pride in tending the ponies and maintaining the cart.
Rory had been teaching them English for the past week and they were learning rapidly. Both boys were very intelligent and eager to learn. Little David especially had taken to Rory; he would sit on her lap and hold her hand, and she lavished affection on him. Kieran wasn’t particularly thrilled that she was getting so familiar with servants but the few times he tried to bring it up, she had snapped at him. He knew her mothering instincts were kicking into overdrive so he finally gave up and left her alone. If she wanted to hug little David, who was truly an adorable child, then so be it.
Bud was a different story. He had come out of his shell in the past week, smiling more readily and learning English quickly, but he was clearly more comfortable with Kieran. He followed the man around, learning anything he could from the big knight, basically becoming Kieran’s shadow. Even now, he helped Kieran count their trunks and ran to do the man’s bidding when Kieran ordered the trunks loaded up on the cart secured to two big, hairy, draft horses. Kieran had grown up around pages and squires his entire life and knew how they should be treated, but even he wasn’t hard pressed to admit that he was growing rather fond of Bud. He was a bright, serious child, eager to please.
Kieran had sent a man ahead to secure them three rooms at The Black Swan, a tavern where he had spent a good deal of time in the past when he visited London. Meanwhile, he put Rory and Kaleef in the pony cart while he and Yusef walked beside it, heading towards the Strand where the tavern was situated. He hadn’t been home in three years and, already, he began to feel relief and comfort at the familiar sights. Now he was back in his element. He was home.
The streets were busy with people going about their business. Rory was enthralled with the unpaved dirt streets, the people, and the sheer magnitude of dirt all over everything. It was kind of like the Medieval faires that she had been to in the past, only smellier. Colors weren’t vibrant; they were all muted and grayish because of the lack of modern pigment or finishes. Clothes seemed to be the same way; a few varying shades of browns or blacks or even reds. There weren’t any particular styles of clothes for the most part; tunics, hose, rough surcoats for the peasants. She hadn’t seen any fine ladies yet and she was eager to see what they were wearing.
As they traveled down the street, Rory noticed everything. Her archaeologist’s instincts were going wild with the new sights and sounds. Kieran watched her and their surroundings closely; people didn’t like to be stared at the way she was and he didn’t want anyone to take her interest as a challenge. But he knew better than to discourage her. Dogs ran in the street and there was no sense of traffic control; people just walked where they felt like it. The scene was mildly chaotic.
Yusef, walking beside Kieran, was just as enthralled as Rory was only he was able to keep his wonder in check a little more than she was. Still, he’d never seen a city like this and he was awed.
“I have never seen so many Christians in my life,” he commented, sizing up a wood and mortar, four-story structure that they were passing. He was amazed with all of the wood, so rare in his country. “Are all Christian cities so large?”
Kieran grinned. “Not all,” he replied. “There are some remarkable cities in the Holy Land. What makes you so fascinated with this one?”
Yusef shrugged, watching a particularly lovely peasant woman walk by him with white skin and flaming red hair. “The people are colorful,” he said. “In my land, everyone is dark. Here, there are people of many colors.”
Kieran gave him a half-grin, glancing over to see that Rory was looking behind the cart, watching some activity. When he turned to see what had her attention, he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It was just the same busy London he was used to. He turned back to Yusef.
“We will stay here tonight and then head to Southwell in the morning,” he said. “I will send word to my father that we are coming home. He will be thrilled.”
Yusef gazed up at the puffy clouds. “What is your home like?”
“Big,” Kieran promptly replied. “My family is very, very old; older than the Normans who conquered this land over one hundred years ago. We are descended from the kings of Mercia and when the Normans came, my ancestor was smart enough to work with them, not against them, and retain much of his holdings. Although my family ruled most of middle England and some of Kent for many years, we now have a section of land just north of Nottingham. It is a four or five day journey from London, longer if my wife stops to look at every little thing along the way. She is fascinated by everything.”
Yusef looked over his shoulder at the exquisite woman. He had come to know her a little better over the past week of travel and was coming to think she wasn’t such an aggressive, unruly woman as he originally thought. She was bright and quite humorous. Still, she had a very strange accent and there was something odd about her, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Your wife is not from England?” he asked Kieran casually.
Kieran shook his head. “Nay.”
“Where is she from?”
Kieran looked at him a moment, breaking down into a weak smile and looking away. “You would not believe me if I told you.”
Yusef grinned. “Is she divine, perhaps?”
Kieran lifted an eyebrow, half-nodding, half-shrugging. “Not as much as she would like to think,” he teased. “Her family is of Irish descent.”
That seemed to satisfy Yusef somewhat. “I have heard the Irish are mad.”
Kieran laughed. “Not all of them.”
Yusef glanced at Rory again, who was saying something to Kaleef and pointing. “But I have also heard they are very strong,” he said. “Your wife is a strong woman to have endured this journey.”
Kieran’s smile faded somewhat. “You have no idea just how strong she is,” he said, suddenly serious. “She has saved my life and has made all things for me possible. Her strength goes beyond the obvious; it runs deep as I have never seen. I would trust that woman with my life a thousand times over and know that every time, she would risk all for me. I am here today only because of her and I owe her everything.”
Yusef sensed a great deal of respect and adoration in that statement, but there was more to it. It was wider, deeper, and stronger. Most men did not speak of a woman that way. But Kieran obviously adored his wife, much more than Yusef could imagine. In that moment, Yusef’s respect for Lady Hage grew simply because Kieran respected her so much.
“Then you are much fortunate, my friend,” Yusef said.
“Aye, I am,” Kieran sighed, glancing over his shoulder to see his wife carrying on an animated conversation with Kaleef. “But she still drives me daft at times.”
They chuckled as they moved down the road, finally pulling up in front of a three-story structure that was built of stones and wood. It was crammed in between two other buildings in a long row of structures, some of them rather unsteady looking. As soon as the cart came to a halt, Rory leapt off but Kieran grabbed her before she could take a step.
“Stay with me,” he instructed evenly. “You’ll not go running amok, not here.”
She pursed her lips impatiently. “I wasn’t going to run amok.”
He winked at her, taking her hand and tucking it into his elbow as he gave orders to the men that had accompanied them from the docks. Soon, things were in motion; trunks were being removed from the enormous horse cart and the door to the inn was open as men passed inside. Kieran entered the structure with Rory on his arm. Rory made sure the boys were behind them, safe, as they entered.
The main room of the tavern was long and dark. It looked as if it had been dug in a pit; the floor was at least two feet below the street level and a few stairs led down into the pit. They hadn’t taken two steps when an older wench ran up to Kieran, gasping in recognition.
“Viscount Dykemoor!” she cried excitedly. “I heard that ye had gone with the king to fight the savages. God be praised for allowing ye to return home unharmed.”
Kieran recognized the woman as the daughter of the tavern keeper. “My thanks,” he responded. “I have returned with my wife and friends. Go find your father and tell him that I have arrived.”
The woman looked at Rory with shock, at Yusef and Kaleef with even more shock. After a lingering gaze, she turned and fled. Kieran watched her run off, knowing that she was racing to her father with tales of the savages Sir Kieran Hage had brought back with him from the Holy Land. There was a good deal of suspicion for dark-skinned people and Kieran knew he was going to face it more than once; he hoped that Yusef and Kaleef understood it as well.
Rory was more interested in studying the room and its occupants than concerned with Medieval prejudice. She held on to Kieran tightly, watching a particularly loud group in the corner, laughing and drinking. There was one woman and about five or six men; two of the men had their arms around the woman, who seemed to be enjoying their company tremendously. She was laughing and drinking. As Rory watched, one of the men put his hand down the woman’s neckline and fondled her breast. He kept trying to kiss her as she talked to the others, but she was apparently uncaring or uninterested that the man was fondling her in public.
Rory raised her eyebrows and turned away; things like that happened in her time so it wasn’t particularly shocking. The high-end clubs in Las Vegas had stuff like that all the time so she wasn’t inordinately put off by the sight. But she was interested in the group of knights on the far side of the room against the wall. There were four that she could see, most of them sitting facing the door, which made it rather awkward to have a conversation. But like modern day cops, Medieval knights never sat with their backs to a door. The group was well armed, in well used armor and mail, and they had the remains of a massive meal spread before them. As she stared at them, they noticed her.
She abruptly turned her back on them, facing Kieran as she spoke. “There is a group of knights over there,” she said, her big hazel eyes gazing up at him. “Did you see them?”
Kieran was focused on her. “Of course.”
She grinned. “Stupid question,” she muttered to herself, watching him smile. “Do you know them?”
He was still focused on her. “It has been three years since I have set foot on English soil,” he replied. “I could be mistaken, but by my last recollection, black and gold standards meant Somerset.”
“Friend or foe?”
“Most definitely foe.”
The smile faded from her lips. “Do they know you? You’re wearing your father’s blue and gold.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “If I understood some things from your time correctly, then I was mildly educated on what you called sporting teams.”
She cocked her head in confusion at the change in subject. “Huh?” her brow furrowed, perplexed. “What about them?”
“They are competitive.”
“Absolutely.”
“And each of these teams had different-colored shirts to identify them.”
“Right; we discussed that already.”
“I know we did but I have a point to make,” he said patiently. “Since these men are competitive, do you believe they know each other’s colors on sight?”
She was beginning to understand where he was coming from. “They sure do.”
“Then the answer to your question is yes, they know my father’s colors on sight. The House of Hage is a powerful house.”
She was beginning to have a sinking feeling. “Do they know you on sight?”
He sighed faintly, looking as if he were searching for the correct words. He put his hands on her upper arms, pulling her closer.
“My family has a very strong history of serving the kings of England,” he explained. “My father was a great warrior and his father before him, serving Henry the First, Matilda, Stephen of Blois, and Henry the Second. My father, in fact, was an advisor and champion to a young Henry the Second. They are the same age, or at least would have been if Henry was still alive.”
Rory listened with awe at the legacy of the Hage family and the royals of England. “So what are you telling me?”
He fixed her in the eye. “There is much you do not know about my family so perhaps you should be aware, considering you are now a part of it.” His voice was very low. “Although my father and Henry were friends when they were young, there was increasing dissention between them because Henry tried to manipulate my father into betraying Richard, the future king. My father, not appreciating how Henry tried to use him against a rival in an unscrupulous way, went to Richard of Aquitaine and told him of his father’s plot. That forever sealed the rift between my father and King Henry, but it also cemented an alliance with Richard. That’s a simplified version of what happened, but it is a sufficient explanation.”
Rory’s eyes were wide with the information. Some of the most famous figures in Anglo history were deeply involved with the Hage family and she was properly awed. In fact, it was difficult to wrap her mind around it.
“That’s really amazing,” she breathed. “So you’ve always served Richard, then.”
He nodded. “Aye. And everyone knows it.” He tipped his head in the direction of the other knights. “And to answer your question, most fighting men know me on sight. As Richard assumed the throne, I was one of his champions. I led the king’s armies in many a battle against brother or father.”
She regarded him a moment, thinking her husband was a far greater man than she had suspected. She had known the man was a friend of Richard’s and a great warrior, but it seemed to go beyond that and it was a stunning realization. But along with those thoughts came something else.
“I’m just curious,” she said carefully. “How do you feel about a king who has never really lived in England? Doesn’t he live in Aquitaine?”
Kieran smiled ironically. “I serve England’s king. It does not matter where he lives. He is still my king. And my friend.”
She smiled and let the subject drop. Any more questions out of her mouth might sound like a challenge and she was in no way challenging him. But she was increasingly concerned about the rival knights on the opposite side of the room.
“So what about those guys?” she nodded her head in their direction. “Are they going to try and attack you?”
He smiled. “I doubt it,” he said. “I’ve not given them a reason to.”
“Do they really need a reason in this day and age?”
He kissed her on the tip of her nose, turning her around by the shoulders as the tavern keeper approached. The man was round and surprisingly well dressed, with a bald head and bright blue eyes. He smiled happily at Kieran.
“My lord Dykemoor,” he greeted. “It has been a long time. Praise God that you have returned from the Holy Land.”
Kieran nodded in response to the man’s greeting. “I am here for the night and require three rooms,” he said. “My wife requires a bath and your finest meal.”
The man nodded eagerly, his jowls shaking. “Of course, m’lord.” He began yelling to the cluster of women behind him, who bolted into action. Then he turned back to Kieran. “Please sit and enjoy drink while we prepare your rooms.”
Kieran began pulling off his gloves, pointing to two tables near the window. “Let us sit,” he said to his wife and Yusef. But he spoke over his shoulder to the tavern keeper. “Bring food with the drink. My wife is famished and requires pickled lemons.”
He was smirking at Rory, who made a face at him as they went to sit. She was increasingly famished these days, not strangely, mostly for pickled lemons. Kieran had little difficulty locating pickled lemons in Paris but he’d not found any since that time and knew he’d better find her some or she would likely skin him alive. It was all she talked about.
They took the two tables near the window. Yusef and Kaleef sat with Rory and Kieran while the boys sat at a small table that leaned dangerously. The youngsters had big, wide eyes at the tavern and big, wide eyes when the innkeeper brought them a big loaf of bread all their own. Kaleef and Yusef could not drink the fermentation of grapes or wheat, so the innkeeper provided boiled fruit juice instead. Rory wanted it, too. She wasn’t too keen on drinking wine or ale these days. He brought her some with rose petals floating on the top.
In the next several minutes, the innkeeper and his daughter brought bread, butter, some kind of fruit and honey compote, mutton that was stewed in gravy, and boiled vegetables. They were so boiled that it was difficult to tell what they were. But the man came through in the clutch. He presented Rory with pickled onions, peas and cucumbers, which he called briny vegetables, and something else brand new to England.
He brought forth a big earthenware jug, sealed, which he opened at the table. Rory peered inside, her head blocking out everyone else’s view of what it held. Whatever it was smelled both sweet and sour, so she stuck her fingers in and pulled out a citrus segment. She smelled it; it smelled very sweet and tart. Popping it in her mouth, she crowed with delight. It was an orange that had been soaked in sweet wine, honey and cinnamon. It was absolutely delicious and she wrapped her arms around the jug and refused to give it back to the innkeeper. He graciously left it while Kieran laughed at her.
While everyone else ate mutton and bread, Rory ate pickled onions, peas and cucumbers and the delightful orange segments. She held out a piece of orange to Kieran, dropping it in his open mouth and giggling when he pretended to eat her fingers. He chewed, nodding with approval.
“Delicious,” he offered, lifting an eyebrow at her as she shoved more in her mouth. “For a woman who swore she would not eat anything of my time, you are proving yourself to be a liar.”
Rory giggled, licking the juice off her fingers. “I know,” she agreed. “I don’t care. Can we take this with us?”
Kieran shook his head at her, chuckling. “If you wish.”
She did. She shared her fruits with the boys, who had never had such treats. David in particular wanted more but Bud was seemingly satisfied with what he had. In fact, the boys had more food between them than they had ever known in their lives, eating until they were stuffed. When the meal was almost over, Kieran called Bud over to his table.
The boy came obediently and stood next to Kieran expectantly. Kieran held out a big cup of wine and the boy looked at him questioningly. Kieran smiled and put it in the lad’s hands. Bud understood the honor and the implication and took a big drink, smacking his lips. Rory looked up from her oranges long enough to scowl.
“Kieran,” she scolded. “He’s just a kid. Don’t give him wine.”
Kieran lifted an eyebrow at her. “He has grown up at St. Victor’s,” he told her frankly. “He has been drinking wine since he was born. Is that not correct, Bud? Vous avez bu du vin puisque vous étiez bébé.”
Bud nodded eagerly, smacked his lips, and took another big drink of Kieran’s wine. Kieran laughed at the boy, took his cup back, and indicated for Bud to go back to his brother. Bud wiped his mouth, smiled, and retreated.
Rory watched the exchange, shaking her head. “You’re going to turn him into a child alcoholic,” she muttered. “We’re going to have to put him in rehab.”
Kieran wasn’t sure what an alcoholic was, or rehab, so he just grinned. “You worry overly, Mother.”
She smirked at him, turning back to her beloved orange segments. She was thrilled to be eating fruit. The diet of the Medieval period was sorely lacking in fresh produce so she was thrilled to have something citrusy. As she happily licked her fingers, laughing at David when he tried her briny onions and cucumbers and puckered up his face, she suddenly noticed that Kieran’s expression had turned to stone. The man was looking over her head, suddenly rising to his full height. At six feet six inches, he was an incredibly imposing man. Startled, Rory turned around to see what he was looking at.
Somerset’s knights had risen from the shadows and were moving across the room towards them. Rory’s jovial mood was gone as Yusef bolted to his feet because Kieran had, prepared for a fight. Frightened, Rory stood up as Kieran pulled her back, out of the way. She scooted around the table and went to the boys, pulling them back out of the line of fire. Her eyes were wide with terror as the four Somerset knights approached Kieran.
“Hage,” the knight in the lead spoke as if Kieran’s name was the vilest word in the English language. “I thought it to be you when you walked in the door but I could not be positive. I am not sure if you are aware, but it seems that trained beasts followed you back from The Levant.”
His men laughed rudely at Yusef and Kaleef’s expense. Kieran didn’t show any emotion whatsoever.
“You would know something of trained beasts, of course,” he said. “You married one.”
The knight’s smile vanished. “I shall be sure and inform my wife’s father what you truly think of her,” he growled. “Welsh warlords are not known for their understanding. Once slandered, you make an enemy for life.”
“I shall take that chance.”
The knight regarded Kieran with his dark, wicked eyes before turning his gaze to Yusef. He looked at the man as one would look at a snake. “He does not belong with good Christians,” he spoke to Kieran. “I am offended by his presence. He and those like him should be in the livery with the rest of the animals.”
“He stays.”
Rory watched the exchange with growing fear. It was Kieran and Yusef against four fully-armed knights. It wasn’t like she could call nine-one-one or run for the cops; there were no cops in this time. Law was in the hands of the people for the most part. These men could kill Kieran and there would be no justice, no one brought to trial. But more than that, she would be without him. The man who was literally a part of her soul would be gone. She would be dead along with him.
And the baby… he would never know the strong, wise, amazing man who was his father. Panic began to set into Rory’s mind, thinking quickly. Like two dogs preparing to fight, she wanted to turn a hose on them. But there were no hoses. Her heart began to thump faster and faster and her palms began to sweat. Wild thoughts began to pop into her head to create a distraction; she took the first thought that popped into her head. There wasn’t time for second or third options. She nudged Bud. when he turned around, she silently urged him to follow her lead.
Leaping onto the small, rickety table that the boys had eaten their meal on, she began to stomp and clap in rhythm… stomp, stomp, clap… stomp, stomp, clap. When the boys picked up her rhythm, she suddenly yelled to the crowded room.
“Do it with me!” she shouted. Stomp, stomp clap… stomp, stomp, clap. “Do it loud!”
Bud was the first one to take her lead strongly. He jumped up onto the nearest table, stepping in someone’s meal as he did so. He was stomping and clapping as loud as he could. David was, too, stomping and clapping fearfully because Rory and Bud were. The kid had no idea what was going on. Rory drew on her cheerleading roots, four years of the extracurricular activity, and the familiar chant that echoed through a million high school stadiums on Friday nights throughout the United States. It was the only distraction she could come up with and she began to sing out the words.
“Buddy you’re a boy make a big noise, playin’ in the street gonna be a big man some day.
You got mud on yo’ face, you big disgrace; kickin’ your can all over the place, singin’ we will, we will rock you! We will, we will rock you!”
By this time, she had the entire tavern stunned, watching her as if she had lost her mind. But it had worked the desired effect. Kieran and the Somerset knights simply stared at her, no longer focused on each other.
Rory jumped off the table and began waving her hands, encouraging people to stomp and clap with her. Although they were timid at first, it was well-known that Medieval people enjoyed entertainment and they enjoyed participating in songs. They were always up for a good time. This was a heck of a song and, in little time, she had the entire tavern stomping and clapping.
Thrilled that her audience was with her, Rory leapt onto the nearest table and belted out the second verse.
“Buddy you’re a young man hard man, shoutin’ in the street gonna take on the world someday, you got blood on yo’ face, you big disgrace, Wavin’ your banner all over the place. We will we will rock you, sing it, we will we will rock you.”
She was able to get the crowd to pitch in on the chorus. Bud, picking it up quickly, was singing at the top of his lungs, running around the room like a miniature cheerleader, very surprising for the usually reserved boy. The entire room was stomping and clapping so hard that flotsam was floating down from the beams on the ceiling. Feeling the power from her audience, Rory launched in to the last verse.
“Buddy you’re an old man poor man, pleadin’ with your eyes, gonna make you some peace some day. You got mud on your face, big disgrace, somebody better put you back into your place. We will we will rock you, sing it, we will we will rock you!”
The energy level of the room was reaching titanic proportions. Kieran was watching, rather dumbfounded, and two of the Somerset knights were even stomping and clapping along with her. The crowd was going crazy for Rory and her cheerleader-on-caffeine tactics. But suddenly, she threw her hands up to immediately silence the crowd. After a few lingering stomps and claps, they shut up, a hushed silence falling over the crowd to see what she was going to do next.
Rory’s head was lowered, her eyes closed. She began to sing facing her feet, the lyrics soft and sweet. Drawing on her experience in her high school chamber singers, she had a lovely alto voice, which grew increasingly louder as the lyrics progressed. She had the entire tavern enthralled, including her husband, as she sang a song that Freddie Mercury would make famous in the far distant future.
“I’ve paid my dues – time after time – I’ve done my sentence – but committed no crime –
And bad mistakes – I’ve made a few
I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face –
But I’ve come through,
We are the champions – my friends
And we’ll keep on fighting – till the end –
We are the champions –
We are the champions
No time for losers
’Cause we are the champions – of the world –
I’ve taken my bows – And my curtain calls –
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it – I thank you all – But it’s been no bed of roses – no pleasure cruise –
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race – and I ain’t gonna lose,
We are the champions – my friends
And we’ll keep on fighting – till the end –
We are the champions –
We are the champions
No time for losers
’Cause we are the champions – of the world!”
When the song was finished, no one dared move. The entire place was as still as stone. Rory stood on the tabletop, gazing over the room with increasing embarrassment, thinking that they hated her song. But when the crowd realized the song was over, they burst out in such loud applause that Rory had to cover her ears. The entire room was quaking with shouts and applause.
Rory jumped off the table and raced over to where Kieran was still standing, still in the company of the Somerset knights. As the crowd roared their approval and began to bang their cups, knives and plates against the table for an encore, Rory grabbed Kieran by the arm.
“Come on,” she hissed, breathless. “Let’s get up to our room and bolt the door before they realize we’re gone.”
Kieran was looking at her with a good deal of amazement from what he had just witnessed. But he was confused by her request.
“What…?” his brow furrowed. “What do you…?”
“Please!” she whispered urgently, her hazel eyes suddenly verging on tears. “Let’s get everyone up to their rooms and bolt the doors before those knights come to their senses.”
Suddenly, he could see what she was doing. Honestly, when he first heard the clapping, he thought she had lost her mind. But he quickly realized she had done it to distract the building hostilities. He felt like an idiot for not having understood that before. But watching her perform, he saw a side of her that he had never seen before, something that was both shocking and deeply attractive. He knew she was talented but he had no idea just how talented. The woman had dimensions he couldn’t even fathom.
“As you say, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Take the boys and go upstairs. I will be up shortly.”
But she didn’t let go. “No, Kieran,” she said insistently. “Come with me now. Please.”
He patted her hand reassuringly, looking to Yusef, a few feet away. “Go with Yusef,” he tried to pass her off to the Saracen. “Take Kaleef and the boys and go upstairs.”
“But, Kieran…!”
“Please. Do not argue with me.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
His jaw ticked, not a good sign. “Do it now or you will not like my reaction.”
She opened her mouth to reply when a fist suddenly came flying at Kieran’s face, sending him reeling. Rory shrieked. Running on instinct, she grabbed the nearest thing on the table, which happened to be a big, wooden pitcher. She swung it with all her might at the Somerset knight and hit him in the side of the head. He teetered back as Kieran righted himself and charged forward, throwing a massive fist and shattering the man’s nose. Blood spurted and the knight went down.
Yusef was moving into action as the room suddenly erupted with screams and people scrambling. He pulled Rory back, away from the flying fists, and tackled the nearest Somerset knight as Kieran went after another one. Kaleef and the young boys were backed into a corner as the room deteriorated into a massive brawl, and Rory stumbled over to them.
“We need to get clear of here,” she said to them, taking little David by the hand and gesturing to Bud to take charge of Kaleef. “Follow me.”
The four of them moved for the stairs, trying to stay clear of flying tables and chairs. It was like an Old West bar brawl only worse; these people were biting and gouging eyes along with throwing punches. By the time Rory and her little group reached the stairs, she noticed that several men in the room had jumped into the fight. Only one Somerset knight was left standing, and that man was having the stuffing beaten out of him by Kieran. Not strangely, the men who had jumped into the brawl were also fighting each other. Punches and stools were being thrown like crazy. The room was being destroyed as Rory pulled David, Bud and Kaleef up the stairs.
Rory paused about halfway up the staircase, urging the others to head to the top. She had to watch Kieran, to make sure no one was taking out a sword to stab him in the back. Not that she could do much from her perch on the stairs so she began to move back down the steps, inching towards the fight that had now broken through the front window.
Kieran finished off the Somerset knight by picking the man up and tossing him across the room. He barely had time to recover when two men nearby charged him; one caught him in the shoulder and the other man caught him in the abdomen. Annoyed, he grabbed the pair by their hair and smacked their heads together, sending them crashing to the floor. He spied Rory on the stairs and he began to charge towards her.
“Go,” he boomed. “Up the stairs.”
The sheer volume of his voice startled her. He sounded furious and she had no idea why.
“You don’t have to yell!” she hollered back.
He opened his mouth but got hit from behind, almost sending him to his knees. A group of men were fighting behind him and someone got shoved into him, clipping him behind the knees. Kieran turned to the group, clobbering two of the men and sending the others scattering when they saw how furious he was. Kieran’s anger was unleashed and he was obliterating anyone, or anything, that got in his way. Then he swung to his wife, his face taut with rage. Rory saw the expression and she knew, for her sake, that she had better do as he told her. She bolted up the stairs, taking the boys and Kaleef with her into the nearest open room when she reached the top. She slammed the door behind her and bolted it.
Kieran mounted the stairs two at a time, storming up the steps until he reached the top. Lashing out a massive boot, he kicked the door in, shattering the wood. Splinters rained down as Rory and the boys cowered in a corner. Old Kaleef sat calmly on the bed, watching the events fold out before him. He was the only one in the room not wrought with terror.
“She is with child, my lord,” Kaleef reminded him steadily. “If you beat her, you risk the child.”
Kieran acted as if he had not heard him. He charged into the room, grabbed Rory by the arm, and pulled her back out into the hall. She stumbled behind him as he towed her down the short, uneven corridor and into a room at the far end. The door shut with a bang, the sounds of a bolt being thrown echoing in the sudden stillness of the corridor.
Once inside the chamber, Rory yanked herself free of Kieran’s grasp and ran to the other side of the room. Truth be told, she was terrified. But she was also furious in her own right. As he swung to face her, jaw ticking, she jabbed a finger at him.
“Don’t start with me,” she demanded, taking the offensive. “I made an ass out of myself trying to distract those Somerset knights so that they wouldn’t kill you, but you still wouldn’t leave. You just stood there in all your manly glory because to turn away from a fight is considered cowardly. Well, I don’t consider it cowardly; I consider it smart. I’m not going to let you yell at me when all I was trying to do was save your life.”
Kieran stood by the door, grinding his teeth as he listened to her speech. After a moment, he began to rip his gloves off, tossing them angrily onto the bed.
“I can save my own life,” he growled. “I do not need or want your protection. You do not seem to realize that every time you disobey me, every time you put yourself someplace where you should not be, you divide my attention and make it possible for someone to catch me off guard. As I was standing there arguing with you, Somerset’s man was able to throw a fist into my jaw. It could have just as easily been a knife to my chest. And it would have been your fault.”
Her face turned red and she was gearing up for a serious retort. But as Kieran watched, her face crumpled and she turned away from him in hysterical tears. Kieran’s fury drained out of him in an instant. Grunting with remorse, he sighed and made his way towards her.
“Do not weep,” he muttered regretfully. “I did not mean it.”
“Yes, you did,” she wept. “You were trying to hurt me and you did.”
He sighed again, with great guilt. “I was not attempting to hurt you,” he said hoarsely. “But I am angry. I am angry because your stubbornness could have gotten us both killed. Sweetheart, I do not give you directions simply to hear myself talk. I do it because it is important. You must understand that.”
“And you must understand that I’m not some weakling Medieval woman who can’t think for herself,” she fired back. “I don’t need you to boss me around like I’m mindless chattel. Is it so hard for you to treat me like a partner and not a possession?”
“This has nothing to do with that. You are not a warrior and you must trust that I know more than you do with regards to personal safety.”
“I know enough that I was trying to distract those knights so you could get away. And you just stood there!”
He could see that this wasn’t a battle he was going to easily win. Rory simply didn’t understand that she needed to listen to him for her own health and safety. She was very much the modern woman who took care of herself and tried to help others. Her assimilation into Medieval society wasn’t going as smoothly as they would have hoped and he couldn’t figure out if it was because he was resisting her or if she was resisting him.
“I do not know what to say except I am sorry your feelings are hurt,” he murmured. “I love you, Lib. Never doubt for a moment that you are the most important thing in the world to me. I understand you were attempting to assist me downstairs but you must understand that I do not need assistance, mostly because if you are involved, I spend my time worrying about you. Divided attention, in my profession, can be deadly.”
She wasn’t going to let him off so easily. When he tried to gently take her in his arms, she yanked away and stumbled over to a small table and chair against the wall. Sitting heavily in the chair, she wept hot tears into the wall.
“Go away,” she sobbed. “Go downstairs and get yourself killed. I don’t care anymore. You’re hateful, Kieran, just hateful.”
Kieran stood there, watching her weep, feeling like an ogre. She was sobbing heavily, so hard that she ended up vomiting up all of the wonderful orange segments all over the floor. He didn’t care if she didn’t want him to touch her. When she started heaving, he went to her, pulling her hair out of the way and holding her steady as she lurched. She tried to smack him, to push him away, but she couldn’t do that and vomit at the same time. When she was finished expelling everything in her stomach, she began to weep louder.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped miserably. “I’ve made such a mess. I can’t… can’t…”
Kieran had had enough. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down and throwing himself down beside her. His arms went around her tightly, enveloping her against his massive body. Rory struggled for a few seconds before succumbing to the inevitable. He was alive and warm against her, and she now wept for an entirely new reason. She was just glad he was alive.
“You’re the most important thing in the world to me,” she sobbed. “Why do you think I was trying to help you?”
He knew that but he didn’t have anything to say about it. “Calm yourself, sweetheart.” His lips were by her ear, his voice low and soothing. “Everything is all right now. Just calm yourself.”
Rory was exhausted. She put her hands up to her face, covering it, wiped out from the day’s events, the pregnancy, the weeping. She quieted quickly as Kieran held her and drifted off into a fitful doze. Kieran thought wryly that she must have been thoroughly exhausted because she didn’t even inspect the bed for bugs. He held her, both arms wrapped around her body and a massive hand on her forehead, stroking her gently.
“Sleep, sweetheart.” He kissed her gently. “All will be well on the morrow.”
She snored in response.