Bound to the Warrior (Love Inspired Historical) Page 24

She pushed away and allowed Adrien to help her up. She leaned against him. “A cart is worse punishment than a horse.”

  “Then I’ll carry you.” Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her down the road to where the horses now stood. He set her up on his courser and mounted easily. With an order to have the ponies bring the two bodies to the keep, Adrien gently led the way home.

  Sunrise glowed in the east as they finally reached the bailey. Adrien dismounted first before lifting her off the horse and carrying her up to her solar where Margaret waited anxiously. Ediva wanted to talk, as he expected, but he promised he’d return after she rested.

  * * *

  Ediva awoke to discover she ached worse than when she fell down the stairs. With a wince, she turned. Immediately, her maid was at her side. The woman fussed and doted until Ediva could stand it no more and ordered her away. The sun shone high, indicating ’twas nearly noon. A moment later, the door opened and Adrien entered with a tray in his hand. “Are all the servants too busy?” she asked, smiling.

  “I promised you I would return and here I am.”

  He set down the tray and sent the maid away. Refusing help, Ediva hobbled to the table and began to set out the meal. Roast venison, vegetables, rich broth and sweet cheese pastries. And a large tankard of cold juice to wash it all down.

  After giving thanks, they sat and ate for a moment, but Ediva could stand Adrien’s calmness no longer.

  “Olin wanted the keep,” she blurted out. “He planned to kill you and offer to buy the title after I’d been executed for your death. He said he planned to tax the villagers further and only give the king a portion of it.”

  “’Tis not unheard of to collect one amount and write another in the ledger. Though William would have found out.”

  “Olin employed Geoffrey for his scheme.”

  Adrien nodded. “Aye. Geoffrey attacked you the second time in the keep. Olin would have been too sore from both the flogging and the attack on me. Geoffrey also took foodstuff from your larder to him as he hid in that tower, I’ve learned from Rypan, who would watch him. The steward didn’t want a Norman here, so he tried several times to poison me. But Geoffrey didn’t know that I dislike spicy food. I think Geoffrey’s mother supplied the herbs and poison.”

  “And Olin killed her. How could Geoffrey continue helping him after that?”

  Adrien paused and set down his knife. His expression was grim. “Nay, Ediva. Geoffrey killed his mother. I’m sure of it.”

  She gasped. Adrien went on, “We’ve examined the men’s bodies. Olin had long feet, and the footprints we found in the midwife’s hut were much smaller. Her son’s size. Neighbors claim he was there early that day. Olin was never there.”

  Her stomach dismissing food now, she sat back. “But why would Geoffrey kill his own mother?”

  “He’d warned you that he’d kill a villager if you didn’t kill me. I’d say that he chose his mother because she knew he’d stolen the herbs to poison the food. I think the midwife feared repercussions. Geoffrey must have felt threatened by her. She likely knew of other crimes of his, for I believe he was the one who pocketed the coins Eudo left in the strongbox and then marked it down in the ledger as if Eudo had taken them.”

  Ediva nodded. “Aye, the coins I found in his laundry. I returned them to his mother, thinking them payment for eggs, so she certainly knew of them. ’Twould make sense, in an evil way. But why wasn’t I killed by those herbs when he tried to poison you?”

  “Margaret told me you vomited up all the food before it had a chance to work in your stomach. And she went to the midwife for some herbs to help you. That must have been when the woman realized what her son had done.”

  “No one would suspect he’d kill his own mother. And having died, she was no longer a risk to him.”

  As if trying to shield her from the awfulness of what had happened, Adrien pulled her onto his lap. He drew her head down to snuggle in the crook of his neck and held her in silence for a moment, then said, “Ediva, ’twas foolish to think you could buy Olin off.”

  “I know.” Without looking up, she continued, “I had to try. I was willing to offer him everything to save you. For a chance to be with you properly, as your wife should be with you.”

  His eyes warmed. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.” Her eyes watered over and his smiling face swam in unshed tears. “I’ve fallen in love with you. But...” She trailed off, uncertain if she could, or should, continue.

  “Finish,” he urged gently. “But what?”

  “But you’ll go to Ely, and I’m afraid you’ll die there. You love soldiering more than anything.”

  “Ediva, I love you. And I have realized that I certainly love you more than I love fighting. When we married, I thought only of the battlefield. ’Twas safer for me than to expose my heart to anyone. But I was wrong. I fell in love with you and began to reconsider my life. I was only running away to protect my heart. But when I fight now, it won’t be with a careless attitude. Now, I have something to fight for. My home here. My wife here. ’Tis more potent that any elixir to spur on survival.”

  He pulled in an uneven breath. “When I learned you refused to go to chapel, I didn’t want to care for you and couldn’t understand why God brought us together.”

  “To teach me how much He loves us.”

  “And to teach me not to tempt Him by my foolish ways. He needed to teach me to love even myself.” He paused a moment.

  Ediva brushed away the tear that had begun to trace a line down her cheek. She knew he’d go to Ely if the king ordered it, but with the love they were sharing and the many prayers they’d say, she knew he’d also return safely home.

  Their new home.

  Epilogue

  Adrien puffed with pride as his wife, heavy with child, waddled like a duck out of the keep. Naturally, he didn’t dare say those words, but he smiled nonetheless. A duck Ediva may resemble right now, but she was the most beautiful duck he’d ever seen.

  The bailey gate opened and into the mud and mire of that wet, spring day rode three people on horseback. The first rider, Adrien’s sergeant, carried Eudo’s new banner as Baron of Colchester; the second was a woman and the third a guard.

  Eudo’s promise of a midwife had come to fruition. And just in time, Adrien thought, considering his wife’s size.

  There would soon be new life in this estate, he mused. ’Twas good.

  Ediva finally stopped beside her husband. “The midwife?”

  “Aye. And none too early, I would say. You’ll deliver soon.”

  “Nay, I need a few more weeks. The babe has not yet dropped. But ’tis good to have her here. She’ll be needed in the village sooner than I’ll need her.”

  Though Adrien had been exempted from fighting in Northumberland, tensions were ever ripe to the north and they both knew the time may come when he’d be called to Ely. Hereward the Wake had settled in there, at the center of the fens that surrounded the estate, and was fully prepared to fight. But William’s troops outnumbered his. The man whose fight was personal, the talk claimed, would soon lose.

  Enough of that, Adrien told himself. He would enjoy his wife and, God willing, he’d see his first child grow strong.

  The midwife, a young woman with dark red hair, accepted a hand from the sergeant as she dismounted, then closed the distance between them. After her courtesies, she asked to examine Ediva. The two women walked slowly into the keep.

  Adrien turned to his sergeant. “What news have you brought with you?”

  “You brother has taken a wife, my lord, and she is expecting their first child. All the stone has been gathered for the castle in Colchester, and that midwife has given me a headache.”

  Adrien laughed. “How so?”

  “She has a will of her own and can outride most men. She comes with good knowledge, I’m told, though I wouldn’t want to be ministered to by her.”

  “Mayhap she shall open a riding school between birthing chil
dren.”

  “I won’t take lessons from her, my lord. She’s already corrected me several times on my equestrian skills.”

  Chuckling, Adrien watched his wife turn at the door and smile at him. ’Twas good to see his wife have proper care and, realizing that, he offered up a prayer for all the blessings he’d received.

  Of home and family. Of love and faith. Blessings from God Himself.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of A Royal Marriage by Rachelle McCalla!

  Dear Reader,

  Almost 20 years ago, my daughter and I traveled to England to visit my sister and her family. She lived in Colchester, and I fell in love with the town. Its castle was fascinating. And atop of the town hall’s roof were figures from the town’s history. One of them, a tall slender man, stylized in typical Victorian fashion, was Eudes de Ries, or Eudo, as he was called. He was the first Constable of Colchester.

  My fertile imagination took wings and flew. Having always been fascinated with medieval life, I could easily picture this man, a Norman, steward to William the Conqueror, having an abundant life. This led to a fictitious brother, Adrien, and eventually to the story you have just finished reading.

  The story is more than real life and fictitious characters. The story is about love. God’s love. Just as the father in the story of the prodigal son spotted his son from afar and hurried to him, God sees us coming slowly toward him from our own far away land of distrust and hurt and pain. He comes to us with open arms. This was something my heroine, Ediva, had to learn the hard way.

  It’s scary to relinquish the hold we have on ourselves and to trust God. And faith doesn’t always start in a “Road to Damascus” moment. That’s why we have the story of the mustard seed. So while the story is about love, it’s also a story of encouragement, to keep going, to take those baby steps of trust and faith and remember the father that waits for you at the end of the road.

  I invite you to email me at barbarap@eastlink.ca or drop me a note via the publisher with any comments you may have, and please pass on this book to a friend. I always enjoy reading and answering letters.

  God bless,

  Barbara Phinney

  Questions for Discussion

  What attracted you to this book? What kept you reading it?

  To you, Adrien symbolized what Biblical figure?

  Adrien tries to tell the story of the vine, but regrets it later. Have you ever told a Bible story, then thought it was not quite the right one to tell?

  Did Ediva ring true to you? She lived in a different time and couldn’t escape her first marriage. What would you have done in her place?

  The chaplain would have received respect by virtue of his position. Considering the animosity between him and Ediva, how could he have done things differently?

  Did Adrien appeal to you? How so?

  “God is Love” is the theme of this story. Was it adequately portrayed here? Who best portrayed it in this story?

  Have you ever wondered if God was out to get you for your sins? If so, what did you do?

  Harry, who plays comic relief in this story, is similar to Eudo. What did you think of this boy’s character? Did he ring true to you?

  Eudo de Ries was a real person and well-liked in Colchester. Did you like his character? Why or why not?

  Any author looks for emotional impact in a story. What scene provided the most emotional impact for you?

  Ediva’s return to God is slow and unsure, and she doesn’t immediately feel anything wonderful, just feels a little peace. If you have given your life to God, how was your conversion?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.

  You find illumination in days gone by. Love Inspired Historical stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

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  Chapter One

  Castlehead, Lydia, A.D. 801

  “A ship approaches, Your Majesty. Her sail is spread with the Carolingian cross.” Renwick, chief messenger among the Lydian guard, bowed low before the king.

  “Charlemagne.” His Royal Highness, King John of Lydia, lowered the sword with which he’d been sparring with his younger brother, Prince Luke. Why would the Holy Roman Emperor send a ship to Lydia unannounced? Charlemagne’s realm had expanded vastly under his leadership, but John had assumed the renowned ruler would have no interest in the tiny kingdom of Lydia. Was he wrong?

  King John turned to face the messenger. “She approaches directly?”

  “Making for the wharf at high speed, sire,” Renwick panted as though he, too, had run to reach the king quickly.

  “Then we shall make haste, as well.” Sheathing his sword, John headed for the courtyard gate, the fastest route to the Mediterranean shore.

  “To the lookout tower, Your Majesty?” Renwick appeared confused by the king’s choice of direction.

  “No, Renwick.” John led the way. “To the wharf.”

  Prince Luke ran beside him. “Why would Charlemagne visit Lydia? We are not his vassals.”

  “I doubt it is Charlemagne himself,” King John acknowledged. “The emperor regularly sends emissaries throughout his empire to report back to him.” He prayed that was true this time, irregular though it might seem.

  “But Lydia is not part of his empire.” Luke chafed visibly at the idea.

  “We are part of Christendom. As such, we ought to ally ourselves closely with the Holy Roman Empire. Such a position could prove to be advantageous.” John reached the end of the wharf and shielded his eyes from the sun, examining the quickly approaching vessel, her sails emblazoned with the distinctive Carolingian cross, four triquetras joined at the center to form the distinctive symbol of Emperor Charlemagne’s reign.

  “Three masts!” The sight filled John with awe. Lydia had no ship to match it. And yet, “She looks to be wounded.”

  “Aye, brother.” Luke clapped one hand on John’s shoulder and pointed with the other. “Her foresail has been rent and hastily mended. Do you think she has weathered a storm?”

  “Or an attack.” John met his brother’s eyes.

  “Saracens?” Prince Luke spoke the word softly, as though saying it aloud might draw the vicious pirates closer.

  “They raid the Mediterranean waters regularly.”

  “Never so close to Lydia.”

  “We don’t know how far this ship has come,” King John acknowledged. “Or whether the Saracens may have taken her.”

  “Taken her?” Fear sparked in his brother’s blue eyes as he looked out to the ship and back at the ramparts of their castle. If the pirates had taken the ship, they could approach under Charlemagne’s cross and dock before the Lydians realized trouble had reached their shores. The castle’s defenses might be breached before they could even prepare for battle. “Why would Saracens approach so boldly?”

  “For no good reason.” John shook his head. He didn’t want to believe that Saracen pirates had taken the emperor’s ship, but given her condition, it was a distinct possibility. “Let us pray for Lydia’s safety.”

  While the brothers murmured hasty yet heartfelt prayers, King John heard the rumble of boot steps on the wharf. He turned to find Eliab and Urias, two courtiers who’d been his father’s close advisors, panting as they trotted down the wharf.

  “Your Majesty,” Urias called out. “You should not be out here!”

  “This does not look good.” Eliab gestured to the ship as he bent to catch his breath.

  “His Majesty should hide until we’ve determined the motives
of the approaching vessel.”

  John dismissed their concerns. The pair often treated him as though he was still a child, though he’d weathered twenty-eight winters and had ruled Lydia capably since his father’s death four years before. “I may determine their motives much faster if I stay here.”

  “They’ve put down a boat!” Renwick had hardly taken his eyes from the ship.

  “They’re worthy seamen, then.” John approved of the ship’s rapid loss of speed. They’d obviously put down an anchor. It was wise. He’d never docked such a large vessel alongside the wharf, and though he couldn’t be sure the depth of the ship’s rudder, he doubted they’d have made it to the dock without scraping against the submerged rocks that hid not so far below the water at low tide.

  “What are they loading?” Luke studied the men as they carried a large fabric-draped bundle onto the boat. From the care they took in handling it, the cargo must have been delicate. The dark green cloth glistened in the sunlight like silk. Whatever was wrapped inside must be quite valuable.

  A plump, wimpled figure was loaded next, with no shortage of howling admonitions. Then six burly men boarded and took to the oars with vigor, slicing through the water as though Charlemagne himself was watching.

  “I believe that bundle is a person.” John observed the way they’d propped the bundle in the stern with the wimpled woman fussing over it. “A slender figure, perhaps a youth or a child.”

  “Or a woman,” Prince Luke offered.

  “On a ship?” Urias scoffed.