Medieval Master Swordsmen(458)

“Am I to understand that these are the peasant children you mentioned earlier?”

Derica nodded. “Aye. Their mother pulled me from the river and took care of me until I regained my strength. She was accidentally killed. The least I can do is care for her children, and gladly so.”

Fergus looked at the little boy, who was now staring at him. “I see,” he smiled at the boy. Sian responded by sticking a finger in his nose. “Charming.”

Derica loved the children but didn’t want to talk about them at the moment. “How is he really, Fergus? Garren, I mean.”

“He is very well,” Fergus’ thoughts were diverted from the children, thinking of Garren and the trouble they would all be in soon. “He is thought of nothing but you, so much so that he has risked all to come home to you.”

“What does that mean?”

Fergus didn’t want to alarm her. “Nothing,” he assured her, sorry he had to lie to her. “Suffice it to say that his joy in seeing that you are alive will eclipse the sun.”

Derica smiled at him. “I can still hardly believe. Tell me again, Fergus. Swear it to me.”

“I swear to you on my oath as a knight that Garren is alive and well.”

Her smiled broadened, her eyes closing briefly as if to dream him yet again. “And you have come to bring me to him again, just as you did those months ago.”

“’Twould seem to be my calling in life, to unite the two of you.”

Derica didn’t want to wait any longer to see her husband and Keller was dragging his heels. She spurred the palfrey toward the gate.

“If we hurry, we can be to Cilgarren in a few hours, don’t you think?” she asked.

Fergus moved after her. “Two hours at the most.”

Keller had been talking to one of his knights, waiting for the two Welsh crossbowmen he had requested to join the party. When he saw Derica and Fergus already moving towards the gate, he spurred his charger in their direction.

“Hold,” he commanded.

Fergus didn’t listen; he waited for Derica to respond. She did so by simply turning her head, not stopping her horse.

“Why?” she asked innocently.

Keller was beside her on his red-and-cream beast. “Another moment and the escort party shall be complete. If You will simply wait, we shall….”

“I do not want to wait,” Derica told him. “I have waited long enough. I am riding to Cilgarren Castle at this very moment. You may ride with me or not. It makes no difference to me, but if you choose not to, then give me Aneirin so that I may take her.”

Keller’s expression darkened. He made a surprising move by reaching out and grasping her horse’s reins, effectively stopping the animal.

“You’re not going anywhere until our escort is complete,” he rumbled. “I am assembling my men to protect you and you will do me the courtesy of complying.”

Derica’s voice was like ice. “You do not want me to go to Cilgarren; that much is clear. Any more attempts to delay me and you shall suffer Garren’s wrath in this. Be assured that I will tell him of your reluctance to return me to him.”

It threatened to grow ugly. They had come too far to have it turn bad at this moment and possibly cause Keller to forbid either of them to leave Pembroke.

“My lady,” Fergus said quietly. “Sir Keller is merely trying to protect you. Your statement was harsh.”

Derica had a moment of doubt that what Fergus said was true. Her remorse grew. “I apologize, Keller,” she murmured. “I am not quite myself at the moment. My desire to see my husband seems to be taking over all of my senses until I cannot think clearly.”

Keller forgave her, of course. “As I told you before, were you married to me, I should expect the same devotion. I can only admire your determination.” He glanced over his shoulder at the assembled escort party. “It seems we are complete, after all. By your command, my lady, we shall depart.”

He let go of the reins and Derica’s little horse danced forward. Sian thought it was great fun and giggled as the horse shook him about. Derica’s heart was soaring, her joy in seeing Garren too delirious for words. Two hours seemed like an eternity to wait, but wait she would have to. As they neared the great gates of Pembroke, a familiar figure caught Derica’s attention. A small, cloaked wisp of a figure was walking towards her, the face pale and the blue eyes red-rimmed. Derica nearly fell off her horse when she realized she was looking at her maid.

“Aglette,” she hissed. “Dear God… Aglette!”

She slid from the palfrey, careful not to take Sian with her. The women fell into each other’s arms, the red-haired maid sobbing pitifully. Derica was seized with fear, with surprise, and shook the woman gently.