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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: Unending Love
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There were several pieces to the garment – a
ruby red shift of silk that glimmered and shined, and then a surcoat that went
over the top of it of ruby and gold brocade that had a plunging neckline edged
with fox, and long bell-shaped sleeves that were also lined with fox.  The
bodice of the surcoat was stitched with gold thread and glistening pieces of
red-colored glass that looked like jewels, and a ruched belt that made
Adalind’s torso looked slender and shapely. All in all, it was a magnificent
garment, and Maddoc had no complaints.

They took their time heading back to Canterbury,
stopping at a vendor’s stall that was filled with cakes and other delicacies. 
Adalind had a bit of a sweet tooth, so he purchased cinnamon and currant buns
for her, morsels she happily shared with him. They chatted about food, travel,
and
the
[J17]
 
weather. They spoke of his trip to France to
visit
his
[J18]
 
father and step-mother, and they spoke of his
half-siblings who were growing up rather quickly and becoming young adults.  They
spoke of Maddoc’s hopes for the future and of what he would like to accomplish. 

It was a level of conversation they’d never had
before, adult to adult, and Maddoc was becoming increasingly enamored with Adalind’s
wit and intelligence.  She was very funny, and very bright, and he liked that a
great deal.  Memories of that annoying young girl were long gone from his
memory.  The woman before him was something quite different.

Full of sweet buns and bearing Adalind’s garment
for the party, they headed back to Canterbury at a leisurely pace.  Adalind
seemed to be doing all of the talking as they traversed the two miles back to
the castle and Maddoc listened with a grin on his face as she spoke of
attending a feast at Berkhamstead Castle where the dogs ran mad through the
feasting hall one evening, ripping up the careful display of food set forth by
the baron’s wife and leaving a mess in their wake.  

It was a rather funny story and she told it very
well.  Maddoc was enjoying himself so much, in fact, that he didn’t notice a
small group of men riding parallel to them on a road about a half mile in the
distance.  It was a smaller road to Canterbury that cut in from the north,
partially shrouded by trees and small hills, but a glint of armor finally
caught Maddoc’s eye and his attention was diverted from Adalind in an instant. For
a few tense moments, he watched the movement of the distant party before
emitting a low whistle. The escort swung into action and four of them surrounded
Adalind while Maddoc and the other four formed a protective barrier between the
lady and the approaching party.

It all happened very quickly, in a matter of
seconds, and Adalind didn’t realize something was amiss until Maddoc placed his
helm atop his head and unfastened the sheath that contained his broadsword. He
wasn’t carrying his shield, but he was fully armed, and she grew very fearful
as the distant group of me approached.  The unfortunate thing was that from the
angle of the roads, the unidentified party was now between them and Canterbury. 
Tension mounted.

“Maddoc?” she called, apprehension in her tone.
“What is happening? Who are those men?”

Maddoc would not be diverted; he kept his eyes
on the men in armor who were riding fairly swiftly in his direction. “I do not
know,” he said evenly.  “Stay where you are and do what I tell you.”

Tears tightened her throat, tears of anxiety.
“The castle is within view,” she said. “Perhaps we should ride very hard for
it. We can outrun them.”

“Stay where you are. Everything will be all
right.”

Adalind kept her mouth shut after that. He was
in
[J19]
 
command mode, his manner confident and his voice
authoritative, and she would have to trust him.   She was frightened for him
more than herself; she didn’t want to see anything terrible befall him, not now
when her future was opening up and he was the light at the end of the tunnel. So
she sat upon her horse, holding on tightly, fearful of what was to come.

The party riding towards them was odd in that
there were only four of them; four heavily armed, and exceptionally large,
knights.  There were no men at arms, no wagons, no support group.  Just four
knights.  As they drew close on their massive, battle-hardened destriers,
Maddoc charged forward to block them.

“Come no further,” he bellowed. “Tell me your
business and do not delay.”

It was a booming, authoritative command.  The
four knights drew to a halt, horses snorting and pawing.   When two of the
knights helmed heads turned to look at one another, perhaps in confusion, Maddoc
unsheathed his broadsword and held it aloft.

“Your business now,” he commanded, “else you will
not like my response.”

Adalind was wrought with terror.  She was close
to jumping off her palfrey and begging for their lives. The thought of Maddoc
speared through the heart in front of her made her feel faint and panicky.  As
she endeavored to plan a course of action that would save them, she heard a
faint noise.  It was odd, like a low and steady rumble, and confusion began to
mix with her fear.  She couldn’t tell what it was, or where it was coming from,
until one of the four knights suddenly flipped up his visor. It took her a
moment to realize that the man was laughing.

“You are right, my friend,” he said. “I would
not like your reaction. You could take out all four of us and not even raise a
sweat.”

Maddoc’s eyes widened and the broadsword nearly
dropped to the ground.  “De Wolfe?” he nearly gasped. “My God…
William
de
Wolfe?”

Sir William de Wolfe was having a great time at
Maddoc’s expense. He backhanded the knight next to him in the chest. “It has
been so long that he hardly recognizes me,” he said to the knight, who flipped
up his visor as well.  The other two did the same. “He is getting senile in his
old age.”

It was evident that Maddoc knew these men.  He
sheathed his broadsword, making a conscious effort not to gape at the group. 
After a few moments of studying the other faces, he hissed.

“I do not believe my eyes,” he said. “De
Norville, Hage and de Bocage.  What in the hell are all of you doing so far
from Northwood Castle?”

William de Wolfe was an excruciatingly handsome
man with golden eyes and well-shaped dark brows. It was all that could be seen
through the open visor.  He was also a very large man, as Adalind had
previously noted.  She studied him closely, curiously, as he reined his frothing
charger near Maddoc and threw out a gauntleted hand. Maddoc took it the
extended hand, holding it strongly.

“We were in London on business for the earl,” he
said. “There is great disharmony on the Scots border and Longley sent us to the
king to solicit support.”

Maddoc grew serious. “That is nothing new,” he
said. “Is the threat serious?”

De Wolfe half-shrugged, half-nodded. “Serious
enough,” he replied. “We suffered through a siege last month that went on for
days. Bad weather was the only thing that drove them off in the end.”

“What more support do you need? Perhaps de Lohr
can spare me.”

De Wolfe grinned. “I should only be so
fortunate, my friend,” he said, “but you may have problems of your own. While
were in London, we heard your name mentioned a few times so we thought
we’d
[J20]
 
pay you a visit.  Last I had heard, you were at
Canterbury so we took a chance that you were still here.”

Maddoc still held on to the man’s hand, forced
to let it go when the horses caught wind of each other and, sensing a battle,
began to get excited.

“I am still here,” he said. Then his brow
furrowed. “To what regard did you hear my name spoken?”

William didn’t reply right away; in fact, he
deliberately avoided the question as his golden gaze fell on Adalind,
surrounded by men at arms.  He dipped his head in her direction.

“My lady,” he greeted.

Maddoc sensed William’s hesitation to answer his
question, which both intrigued and disturbed him. But he took the man’s lead
and focused his attention on Adalind.

“This is the Lady Adalind de Lohr de Aston,” he
introduced her to the collection of knights. “Lady Adalind is the eldest
grandchild of David de Lohr, Earl of Canterbury. My lady, these are my very
close and dear friends, Sir William de Wolfe, Sir Paris de Norville, Sir Kieran
Hage, and Sir Michael de Bocage.  A more powerful group of knights you will
never meet.  They serve the Earl of Teviot, whom I fostered with.  The five of
us fostered together.”

Adalind still wasn’t quite over her initial fear
of four strange knights but she dipped her head politely as each man was introduced.

“My lords,” she said.

Maddoc’s bright blue eyes glimmered at her. “Prepare
yourselves, gentle knights,” he said. “I have great and shocking news for you. Adalind
is my betrothed.”

That drew a reaction from the knights. “Good
Gods!” de Norville exclaimed. “You mean you actually found a woman who would
have you? I find that astonishing.”

The others were chuckling and Adalind could see
that they meant it in humor.  She smiled timidly as she spurred her little
palfrey forward, heading towards the castle that was in plain view.  After this
fright, even though it had turned out for the better, she found that she was
anxious to return to the safety of Canterbury.

“I do believe it is the other way around,” she
said as she trotted past. “Ask Maddoc about the annoying little girl who used
to follow him around everywhere and you shall see that I am the fortunate one.”

The knights watched her go by with various
expressions of amusement and perhaps a greater measure of curiosity.  Any woman
to win du Bois’ heart was a woman worth a second look.  The men at arms began
to follow Adalind, as did Maddoc.  He waved his big arm at the group.

“Come along, lads,” he said. “Let us spend the
evening together reliving good memories and drinking to the future.”

It was an attractive invitation and one they had
hoped for. The collection of armored men turned their horses for the castle as
de Norville spoke.

“Perhaps I shall try to convince the woman that
I am a better prospect for her than you are,” he said.

Maddoc’s gaze was on Adalind’s blond head. “Do
that and I shall kill you.”

De Norville glanced at de Wolfe as they
followed. “So we have heard,” he replied casually.

Maddoc turned to look at him.  It was at that
moment he began to suspect why they had come. 

 

 

 

 

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the
fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.

 

 

CHAPTER
SEVEN

 

“The ap Athoe family is very powerful in Wales,”
de Wolfe said. “They are related to the Welsh princes and command thousands.
Those two foolish whelps you whipped are declaring they are going to bring half
of Wales down around Canterbury and take Adalind
as
[J21]
 
a prize.”

The group of knights from Northwood, plus
Maddoc, Gerid, and David were crowded into David’s solar.  It was inching towards
sunset, the sky turning shades of pinks and golds, casting slender fingers of
light through the lancet windows of the solar.  A fire crackled softly in the
hearth and David’s big, gray Irish wolfhound was spread out in front of it. 
David had to keep rolling the dog out of the way so he could warm his legs.

“The ap Athoe brothers came to Canterbury,
uninvited, in an attempt to woo my granddaughter,” David said frankly. “They
made a nuisance of themselves, were pushy and rude, and when I
[J22]
 
told them to leave, they essentially ignored me,
so Maddoc did his job. He removed them. But it was not without a fight.”

De Wolfe was leaning against the wall, helm
removed, as was most of his armor.  He was rather swarthy looking in a magnetic
sort of way, as if those golden eyes held untold mysteries of life and love.   He
was a deeply introspective man, calm and wise, and had a natural air of command
about him.

“According to those two idiots, Maddoc unfairly
ambushed them and they barely escaped with their lives,” he said.  “Of course,
no one believed them, but what happened?”

David shook his head with disgust. “They tried
to attack him, two against one,” he replied. “I saw the entire incident. Maddoc
was perfectly justified in what he did.  The issue is not that Maddoc defeated
them – the issue is that the two of them were too stupid and unskilled to make
a good fight.  It was over before it began, once Maddoc pushed them both down
the stairs.  They were humiliated, pure and simple.”

De Wolfe  grinned, glancing over his shoulder at
de Norville, Hage, and de Bocage.  As the latter two snorted, De Norville
wasn’t holding back his audible laugh.  The mental image of strong, serious
Maddoc shoving those two down the steps was a comedic gem.

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