Knight Triumphant. Heather Graham

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      “Poor lass! She has so little to offer,” John said, shaking his head sadly.

      “So little to offer!” Anne said indignantly, and looked to her husband, since she couldn’t quite seem to find the words she wanted.

      “Never feel that way, my girl,” Joseph advised. “Why, lass, you are a beauty, pure and simple,” John said. “Don’t worry, girl, for though many a man is looking to better his own lot in life through his wife’s riches, there’s many a man as well ready to love and cherish a lass for her soul and her nature.”

      “And her appearance,” Anne added dryly. “You’ll have no problems, girl. Perhaps you’re not looking high enough,” she suggested to Merry. “If you could get her into a good household, she might win the eye of a young man with potential. Not nobility, of course, but she’s the face and figure for an ambitious young man with a knack for arms. She could, perhaps, find a lad quick and nimble enough to ride in the king’s army, and thus become a knight himself, and make her his wife.”

      “A blacksmith’s son, safe and solid, will do,” Merry said firmly.

      “You will settle for a blacksmith’s boy?” Gannet asked. He was looking more at Igrainia than at Merry and Joseph. Igrainia lowered her head, hiding a smile.

      “Now, there’s nothing wrong in being a smith!” John said.

      “Not at all!” Merry agreed.

      Igrainia looked at her, still trying not to smile. She arched a brow to her. Merry shrugged, and smiled. “Aye, a blacksmith’s boy. Why, in London, such a fellow will never be out of work.”

      “You really should travel with us,” Lizzie put in. “There is always safety in numbers.”

      “Perhaps we will ride with you,” John said. Igrainia noted that he was watching the other table, the one filled with young men. He said quietly to their neighbors. “They seem an unlikely lot.”

      “Oh, no, they’re quite charming, really!” Beth advised. “Young men who are willing to humble themselves before God! No prospects for them here, on the borders. They are mostly from old Anglo-Saxon homes in the area . . . once they’ve made their way and laid their sins before God, I believe they mean to volunteer for the king’s forces. It’s a harsh world, and there’s little a man can do to improve his lot! That group, well, they will do what they can!”

      “Perhaps,” Merry said quietly, “we should all join with them. Though most men fear God enough to leave humble pilgrims be, there are many along the way who care for only what they can take.”

      “There’s not much they can take from us!” Beth said.

      “Unless they know—” Anne began.

      “Anne!” Joseph chastised.

      “We’ve nothing to fear from this good family!” Anne said indignantly. She shrugged, and seemed to squirm, adjusting her voluminous shift beneath the table. Igrainia looked downward quickly, certain that Anne had been about to tell them that she had hidden what few “riches” she owned in the hem of her long gown.

      “We’ve certainly no wish to hurt anyone,” Igrainia told her.

      “John, what do you say?” Merry asked.

      John watched Igrainia, as if he were going to hesitate. She smiled at him, offering him a silent query with her eyes. What could go wrong with these gentle folk?

      After a moment, John agreed. “There is safety in numbers.”

      “Oh, lovely. We will all really get to know one another,” Anne said. “We should leave quite early. Get a good night’s sleep, and leave early.”

      Just as she finished speaking, the young men at the nearby table rose.

      “Good journey,” one said to Anne and her party, pausing by their table. He was probably in his early twenties, tall, and thickset, apparently heavy muscled. He spoke to Anne, but his eyes traveled to the table beyond and he nodded an acknowledgment to Igrainia, John and Merry. “And to you as well,” he said politely.

      John nodded in return.

      “You are on a religious quest?” the young man asked.

      “We travel to London, making the pilgrim’s stops along the way,” John replied politely. “We hear that you seek to join the king’s service. Good journey to you and your friends as well.”

      “Oh, yes, of course. Thank you. Perhaps we shall pass along the way, and be of some service.”

      “You will probably travel a good deal faster,” Igrainia said, a small smile curving her lips. If they joined with Anne’s group, they would surely move as slowly as the seasons. Not that she had expected to make fast time with John and Merry.

      And not that it really mattered. With Afton gone, with the world she had known at an end, she was in no great hurry to go anywhere.

      “Well, yes, we do travel quickly,” the young man told her, his brown eyes studying her with a strange intensity. “But then . . . we, too, will have our stops to make along the way. May God allow that we meet again.”

      “Godspeed!” Merry told him.

      The four young men departed.

      “Like as not, they’ll all be dead in a year!” Beth said with a soft sigh. “There they are, young and in fine health, and they’re off to learn to do battle, and fight the king’s wars. They’ll return here, and fight their own kin, like as not. They might earn a greater place in life by battling and killing, but still, they’ll be nothing more than common foot soldiers when they march, and God knows, ’tis the common man who bleeds for the rich folk, and that’s the way it is!”

      “I think we all need a good night’s sleep,” Merry said, rising.

      “Goodnight, then,” Joseph told them.

      “Goodnight,” Igrainia said.

      The deaf lad, Gregory, appeared in the long room then, as if intuitively knowing just when they would be ready to go to their accommodations. He smiled a lot, but seemed uneasy. Igrainia offered him a warm smile, but he still seemed rather distressed, looking around as he led them across the now darkened yard where they had to walk carefully to avoid chickens and pigs in the muck. They came to another thatched-roof dwelling and entered a hall where a small fire burned. Father Padraic was waiting in a chair before the fire. He warmed his calloused hands, then rose when he saw them. “Well, I hope that you are sated, since our food is filling, if not greatly pleasing to the palate.”

      “We are quite sated, and grateful,” Igrainia said.

      Father Padraic nodded. “We welcome all here, and ask few questions, and therefore, can give few answers when soldiers, from either side, sweep down upon us. Child, there is a very small but private room for you at the end of the corridor. Please retire when you are ready to sleep; we don’t waste candles or torches here. There is an anteroom adjoining the small chamber. Merry, John, I believe you will find it sufficient. All of our rooms are small and spare, but most often, we have to fill what space we have with many pilgrims. And so many are poor, wounded and left homeless, their СКАЧАТЬ