Medieval Master Swordsmen(470)
“What future?”
His blue eyes glimmered. “A glorious one now that you and I are together again. What does it matter with kings and princes? The only thing that matters is you. Trust that I will do what is necessary to build a fine legacy for our son.” His gaze drifted over her slender body. “I must say, you do not appear to be with child.”
Derica’s soft expression faded somewhat, realizing that Fergus, or someone, must have told him that she had been pregnant. She sighed softly, putting a tender hand to his cheek. “I am not,” she murmured. “Not any longer.”
His brow flickered with confusion. “But Fergus said….”
She cut him off gently. “It was not meant to be. The fall into the river saw to that.” She saw his expression wash with sorrow and she turned the tables on him, kissing his big hands instead. “Do you know how I ended up at Pembroke?”
He nodded, distressed, and she pressed him. “Did Fergus tell you?”
“He did.”
“Then you know that I slipped from the hill at Cilgarren and into the river. I was found by a woman and her two children. They nursed me back to health.” She smiled timidly at him. “There will be more children, my love. Do not grieve for the one lost. It simply was not meant to be, not this time.”
He nodded reluctantly, pulling her back into his embrace once again. For several moments, he fell silent, rocking her gently against him and relishing the feel of her in his arms once more. He felt extremely blessed for her life yet sorrowful for the one she lost. Still, they were together and that was the only thing of import now. He murmured prayers of thanks as he stood there and held her.
Outside of the tower, the sounds of battle were growing. Men were shouting and arrows were slinging over the walls. Garren’s gaze moved to the portion of the wall walk he could see, watching the battle grow more intense.
Derica noted where his focus lay and she, too, gazed out of the tower, watching the activity upon it. Then she looked up at her husband, his handsome profile as he watched the action. She could tell that he was anxious, pensive, torn. Now that they had found each other, bigger issues loomed.
“What will we do now?” she asked softly. “My father is here to retrieve me. Keller is doing all he can to protect us.”
Garren looked at her. “De Poyer is a good man,” he said. “I have known him for years. He would have made a good husband for you.”
She could see the mirth in his eyes and she shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “Perhaps. But I would rather have you.”
His smile broke through and he kissed her tenderly. “How fortunate for me,” he murmured against her lips. “In answer to your question, however, I do not know what we are going to do right now. But I can do one of two things; I can return to the Marshal and beg his forgiveness, or we can leave England entirely and start a new life somewhere else.”
She gazed at him seriously. “You said the Marshal would kill you if he found out you faked your death.”
“It is entirely possible. But an honorable man would hone up to his actions. They were, after all, in pursuit of a noble cause and I have always considered myself a man of honor.”
She fell silent, pondering the greater implications. “I would be honest when I say that I do not want to risk it,” she whispered. “I would rather have you alive, Garren. Is your honor worth more than your life with me?”
He took a long, pensive breath. “Nay,” he murmured. “I do believe that I have demonstrated that. I have destroyed everything I have ever worked for but it matters not. I am nothing without you.”
“Then we will flee England?”
He looked at her, seeing the light of hope in her eyes. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that he could not return to the Marshal to tell him why he had faked his death. He was fairly certain the Marshal would never trust him again and he could no longer continue as an agent for the king. All of that was destroyed the moment they dressed that old, rotted corpse in his battle armor at Lincoln. Garren realized, as he gazed into Derica’s eyes, that a whole new life was before him, something richer and more wonderful than he could ever imagine. He was very eager to know it.
“Aye,” he whispered. “We will leave and never look back.”
Derica threw her arms around his neck, holding him close against her and praying they were making the correct choice. All she knew was that he was alive and they were together, forever, whatever may come. He had given up everything he had ever worked for because of her. She would spend the rest of her life making sure he did not regret it.