Tender is the Knight (11 page)

“There are new merchant vessels in port,” she said.  “I am going to see if they have anything new from the continent by way of weapons or other things I might find useful.”

Dennis didn’t want to tell her that they were traveling there also, mostly because he didn’t want her riding escort.  An escort was supposed to protect and he knew she most definitely would not protect Ryan.

“Be on your way,” he told her.

Charlotte didn’t move. She continued to watch her brother as his charger was brought to him.

“Where are you going if not back to Launceston?” she asked.

Dennis was moving to help his wife mount her palfrey. “I am acquainting Lady Ryan with St. Austell,” he said. “I thought I would show her the village.”

Charlotte grunted her disapproval, watching Dennis lift
Ryan into the saddle. “Careful the town’s folk do not catch wind of where your new wife is from,” she said as she steered her charger away. “She may not live to see he sun set.”

Ryan
heard her.  She watched the woman ride off, a big bulk of a woman she was trying very hard not to be afraid of.  She knew that Dennis was watching her, waiting for her to break down because of Charlotte’s comment, but Ryan refused to do it.  Although she knew Charlotte meant every word, she also knew Dennis would not let anything happen to her.  After last night, she trusted him.  She knew the man would not let her come to harm.

She looked at him and smiled politely. “Shall we go, my lord?”

Dennis’ gray eyes lingered on her, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  He patted her hand, nodded his head, and moved in Lyla’s direction to assist her in mounting, but Lyla had already climbed onto her horse. Moving back to his charger, he glanced off towards the south side of the inner bailey and could see several soldiers emerging from the stables on mounts. 

As the St. Austell escort formed and Clive eventually joined the ranks
, Dennis kept close to Ryan the entire journey to the port.  Truth be told, he knew that everyone at St. Austell had the same attitude as his sister and he wasn’t about to let Ryan fall victim to a
zealous soldier.

CHAPTER SIX

St. Austell’s harbor was relative small and well-protected, a great deep bluish-green expanse of water that had several smaller ships moored in it as well as three large
cogs
.  The cogs were heavily built, long bodies with uncomplicated decks and a single mast, and all three of them were in various stages of being off loaded.  They bobbed gently in the water as men swarmed the decks, handing goods down to those standing in the shallower waters, creating a long line of men that handed off the goods all the way to the shore.

Ryan had been fascinated at the sight.  She’d never seen anything like it.  In her heavy cloak, she had to peel layers back because the emerging sun was surprisingly warm for
late December.  Gulls cried overhead and she would glance up now and again, eyes shielded by her hand, as she watched them fly against the stiff sea breeze.

Dennis had taken their party down into the town
’s narrow streets to the hub of the town where the goods were being delivered.  There was a good deal of activity in the moist streets that stank of saltwater and urine.  Ryan, with Lyla riding behind her, watched the activity curiously.  As she watched men move about, their arms laden with merchandise, she also became aware of the smells of freshly baked bread.  It occurred to her that she had not broken her fast that morning and now, with the smells of food, she was quickly growing famished.

There was a small alleyway behind her where the smells seemed to be coming from most strongly. Craning her head back, she strained to see what manner of shops were there, wooden and stone structures that were low and squat.
The alley itself was smoky from the cooking fires, with people and dogs milling about. 

Beside her, Dennis saw that
Ryan was looking around as if searching for something.  He suspected what it was since he, too, was inhaling the same smells. They were wonderful.

“Do you see something that interests you, my lady?” he asked.

Ryan looked at him, somewhat sheepishly. “There are some wonderful smells about,” she said. “Forgive me, but I did not break my fast this morning and the smells are enticing.”

Dennis promptly dismounted his charger, handing the reins off to a soldier as he walked around to Ryan’s palfrey and lifted her off.
  He carefully set her down, careful not to set her in the slippery mud.

“Clive,” he turned to the heavily armed knight riding beside Lyla. “Lady Ryan and I will return shortly. Hold station here until I return.”

Clive nodded shortly. “Aye, my lord.”

With Ryan in hand, Dennis headed back into the alley where the delicious smells were coming from. 
Ryan held on to him tightly, looking about curiously, seeing several small bread shops with workers milling around like busy bees.  Dennis took her to one shop in particular, an open-air shop with wooden tables and a big kitchen area.  A huge, beehive-shaped oven was spitting smoke and great heat.

A short, fat man in flour-covered clothing greeted Dennis.  “My lord,” he said, wiping
his hands on his apron. “What can I bring ye?”

Dennis knew the man; they had done business before.   “What is good this morning?”

The man grinned, displaying yellowed teeth. “Mutton and apple oggies, my lord,” he said. “That is what ye smell.”

“What else?”

“Whortleberry pie.”

“Give me
two goodly portions of both.”

The man moved quickly, dishing up pies that had been baked in fat, presenting them to Dennis on trenchers made of stale, stiff bread
and spoons made of gourds.  Dennis indicated for Ryan to take a seat at one of the outdoor tables and she did, being presented with a massive slab of mutton and apple pie, or ‘oggie’, in a flour crust, and an equally massive slab of blue whortleberry pie.  Made with honey, it was sweet and gooey and delicious.  Starving, as she really hadn’t eaten much the evening before, Ryan plowed into the sweet pie first, eating the entire thing before starting in on the mutton and apple pie.  Dennis, slurping down his own food, watched her shovel in the meal with some amusement.

“I thought perhaps you would share that with your cousin, but I see that I was mistaken,” he said.

Ryan slowed her chewing, appearing somewhat contrite. “I will save some of the mutton pie for her,” she insisted weakly. “I suppose I was hungrier than I realized.”

He grinned. “Eat your fill,” he told her. “If necessary, I will purchase more for your cousin.”

Relieved, Ryan ended up eating the entire trencher. She was absolutely stuffed, but not too stuffed to down the boiled water with rose petals and apple rind that the shopkeeper brought her to drink.  As she finished off the last of the liquid, Dennis was watching her.  More and more, he just seemed to watch her in unguarded moments, seeing the essence of the woman he had married.  It was clear that he was increasingly smitten.

“We will find a good deal of merchandise near the port,” he said. “Perhaps we shall even find a carpenter who can build a wardrobe for your possessions.”

Ryan appeared thoughtful to his suggestion. “It would seem that the keep does not have much by way of furniture or furnishings,” she said, trying to be tactful. “You said that your father sold everything of value?”

Dennis nodded. “Everything that did not directly pertain to war was sold,” he said. “We have the best and most advanced armory in Cornwall, but it came a
t a price. Thank God my mother was not alive to see my father selling her heirlooms and valuables.”

“When did your mother pass away?” Ryan asked softly.

“When I was newly returned from Northwood, having just been knighted,” he replied, seemingly undisturbed. “She had a cancer in her breast.  I am thankful that I was able to spend a few days with her before she died.”

“I am glad for you,” Ryan said. “I was also with my mother when she passed.”

“Then we were fortunate.”

Ryan cocked her head thoughtfully. “Do you ever think of death, Dennis? What I mean
to say is that do you ever wonder what it is like to die?”

He shrugged. “I am a knight,” he said simply. “Dying is part of that vocation.  Although I am not ready to die, when death does come, I will accept it without fear.  I intend to die well.”

There was something in his tone that made Ryan peer more closely at him. The man was so different in the world he existed in, surrounded by aggressive men and women, living a legacy of death and dying. But still, he had integrity and honor and an innate since of genuine peace.  He was the calming eye in the midst of the d’ Vant tempest.

“
I would expect nothing less from you,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I am sure you will do it as you do everything else; with honor.”

He saw the warmth in her eyes and it surprised him.  It also pleased him a great deal. “Compliments, my lady?” he asked, shaking his head.
“From the woman who called me mad and brutish not two days ago? Shocking.”

She laughed softly. “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not mean to surprise you. Will you recover?”

He put his hand over his heart, with humor. “I am not entirely certain,” he said. “After our first few days of acquaintance, I was sure I would never hear a kind word from you.”

Her smile faded. “Those were difficult days,” she admitted. “
But this vengeance your men seek… I have been thinking on what you said last night.  The sense of revenge will not end with a bloodied sheet, will it? They will expect more from you.”

His smile faded as well, thinking on her wise words. 
She seemed to understand the darker hearts of men, but coming from Launceston and its long history of violence, he wasn’t surprised. He was coming to suspect her thoughts ran deeper than he could imagine, this intelligent and spirited woman. He was eager to discover that part of her for himself.

“It is possible,” he said honestly, quietly.  “You must understand... as passionate as the earl was about war against St. Austell, we felt the same way against Launceston.  It is not
a passion that will end in a day or even a week or month.  It is something that will take time and patience.”

Ryan watched him as he spoke, his mannerisms.
She sensed something… perhaps doubt… in his expression. “You are not entirely sure they will ever come to terms with peace, are you?” she asked softly.

He looked at her. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I can read it in your eyes,” she said. “What happens if your men never come to terms with this marriage and the peace you strive for? Did it ever occur to you that you ask too much?”

Dennis was looking at the well-worn table top. Overhead, a gull screams, flying low to inspect the leavings of their meal.
He glanced up at the gull, pondering her question. After a moment, he reached out and grasped her hand gently.

“I told you last night that I am weary of war,” he murmured. “I do not want our children to grow up as we have, filled with hatred and fear. I want them to know peace.   My men will have to accept that.”

“What if they cannot?”

“Then they will no longer serve me.” He watched the doubt in her expression
at his declaration. “My lady, if I have to dismiss every man under my command and find an entirely new army, I shall do it.  Mayhap I shall wipe clean my entire army so that anyone who remembers the hatred of Launceston shall be purged.”

She felt his warm hand over hers, gazing into his gray eyes. “You are as much a stranger in your world as I am,” she said softly.  “Your men do not want peace but you do. You are trying to show them that there are finer things in life but they do not want to listen. Even your sister does not want to listen.  All they know is vengeance and hate
when you are trying to show them something different.”

He squeezed her hand. “I believe that they will become accustomed to peace in our world and when they do, they will appreciate it,” he said. “You must understand that my father’s death is still fresh in their minds.  It will take time for them to overcome it.”

“Your sister, too?”

“Her especially.”

“What do I do?”

“Stay away from her until I can determine a course of action.”

“Would she truly hurt me?”

He drew in a long and thoughtful breath. “It would be better not to tempt her.”

Ryan nodded, lowering her gaze.  The two trenchers on the table were wet with whortleberry juice and mutton gravy, both picked clean. Ryan looked across the remains of the feast pensively as she considered his words and the situation they both found themselves in.  It was still very dangerous for her.  She understood that in spite of the progress she was making in her relationship with Dennis.

Dennis, sensing her thoughts, gave her hand one last squeeze before summoning the baker and asking for more food to take to Lyla.   When the man brought it over
, Dennis helped Ryan stand up from the uneven bench, taking the food in one gloved hand and Ryan in the other.

They found Clive and Lyla and the eight man escort where they had left the
m at the mouth of the avenue.  Lyla was thrilled and appreciative of the food as Dennis sent one of the soldiers off to see if he could find a cabinet maker.  Meanwhile, the rest of the party began to make their way towards the avenue of merchants down near the wharf.  Ryan giggled at her cousin who was trying to eat and ride a horse at the same time, which was no mean feat.  More than once, whortleberry pie ended up on Lyla’s chin.

The merchant avenue was situated on a rise overlooking the sea, about a quarter of a mile from the actual port.  This kept it away from the unpredictable seas.  As Dennis and Ryan’s party entered the avenue, it was already jammed with people inspecting the latest cargo brought in from all points east.
Somewhere, someone was playing a flute; she could hear it. It seemed to add refinement to the chaos. Dennis dismounted his charger at the end of the avenue and lifted his wife from her palfrey as Clive also dismounted his steed and politely helped Lyla from her mount. 

“What would you look at first, my lady?” Dennis asked Ryan.

At the moment, she was poisoned by selection. She wasn’t particularly well traveled, having lived and stayed in Cornwall her entire life, so this was new and exciting.  She simply grinned at him before heading into the nearest merchant’s stall.

Goods were piled in a disorganized fashion about the stall as Ryan and Lyla wandered in.
Materials and fabrics of all kinds were throw in piles over to her right and to her left were trinkets and small pieces of furniture, like stools and woven seat chairs.  There were even pillows made from material she had never seen before.  Directly ahead of her was a table, leaning, that contained valuable pieces of jewelry.  That was what drew her interest; Ryan went right to the table and began inspecting the lovely pieces.

Gold and silver glittered back at her; there were necklaces with pale green stones
, silver necklaces with blue stones, earbobs made from pearls, and rings of all kinds.  As she stood there and gawked at the treasures, she felt someone brush up behind her. Glancing back, she saw that it was Dennis.

He, too, was looking at the display. Ryan’s attention returned to the table, especially a lovely ring of braided gold with a deep green stone in it.   She picked it up to get a better look at it.