Hello everyone!!! I'm back! My finals are over! Chapter 25 is finished! It doesn't get any better than this! Okay. Here it is. Oh, once again, I do not own A Knight's Tale or any of its characters. There are actually a few characters I have created like Gunther, Lord Wesmark, and Marquis Henri de Vaudemont, but that's all. I didn't create A Knight's Tale. Please don't sue me. Okay, I think that takes care of a disclaimer. Read on!
Sweet Revenge
By Tatiana
Chapter 25: Secret Longings
The next morning dawned pale and lovely, oblivious of the battle of wills and hearts that had taken place the evening before. The manor, all its inhabitants and visitors were bustling everywhere in preparation of the fateful jousting match. Marquis de Vaudemont was busy writing missives to his neighbors, inviting those who could make it in a day's journey to come and witness two knights dueling over his daughter's hand in marriage. Lord de Vaudemont's household was being turned inside out and cleaned, not only for prospective guests, but for Prince Edward's benefit as well, despite his insistence that no trouble should be taken on his account.
The marquis's daughter, even though she'd accepted the fact that William and Adhemar were competing for her, was holed up in her chambers with her maid. She refused to come out, opting instead to mope in an effort to get her displeasure across to her father, who was delighted at the prospect of the joust. The two men of the hour, William and Adhemar had both risen early that morning to prepare their equipment and to practice. They had both slept in their usual tournament tents instead of the marquis's guest chambers in an attempt to make the match as fair and tournament-like as possible. Both men and their attendants were on opposite sides of the practicing fields, going through their motions. The actual lists were being worked on since it had been a while since the last joust held there.
The day before, just before he had left the company of Jocelyn's father, Jocelyn and Thatcher had disappeared shortly after the contest was agreed upon. How weak that Thatcher was. He allowed a woman to rule over his deeds. Adhemar had actually been pleasantly surprised at how quickly he had agreed to the joust. But as soon as Jocelyn stamped her foot in protest, the henpecked hero had immediately rushed to her side. The poor fool. One thing was for sure, when Jocelyn was Adhemar's wife, he would not coddle her. He would treat her just as he treated every other woman he'd ever encountered. Apathetically. That is, every woman, but one.
Adhemar's eyes drifted over to the other side of the practice field, where Thatcher and his crew were preparing for the morrow's events. Thatcher was busy on the back of his brown horse, running through the motions of the joust. The stout attendant's eyes were on the younger man, watchful as a hawk. The redheaded attendant, and the herald stood off to the side, watching a little less intensely. Suddenly they turned around. Adhemar's gaze shifted to what they had turned to. A familiar petite frame came into view. He heard them give a good-natured call out to her. Kate's lips curled back to form a teeth-baring grin. She continued towards them, clutching a reflective piece of shaped steel to her chest. Adhemar frowned. In her arms was a breastplate. Thatcher's breastplate, to replace the one Adhemar's lance had punctured at the World Championships.
Adhemar continued to watch as Chaucer and Wat further welcomed Kate with friendly slaps over her back. Their mouths moved in what looked to be lighthearted banter. Kate grinned and said something in reply. Her expression was one of contentment and laughter. Adhemar's frown deepened. William dismounted upon Kate's approach. He and Roland moved over to where she, Chaucer, and Wat stood. Adhemar's eyes narrowed as Kate presented William with the new breastplate. William took it from her and held it in front of him to study it. He grinned in approval. He gripped in one hand, lowering the shaped steel plate to his side and threw his other arm around Kate's shoulders. Kate let out a laugh and patted him on the back. William then proceeded to suddenly wrap both his arms around her in a giant bear hug, lifting her into the air. Surprised, Kate let out a shriek of laughter. Kicking her legs, she slapped good-naturedly at his armored shoulders to get him to put her back down. He released her and she took the breastplate from his hand and began to put it on him, strapping it to the rest of the suit of armor he wore.
Adhemar's jaw flexed as he examined the scene across the field. Kate stood next to William, his arm resting on top of her head as she secured the armor to his torso. They all looked so comfortable together. Thatcher and his crew had accepted Kate back into their group without a moment's pause, not mention the fact that they couldn't keep their hands off of her. It was almost as though they had to have a hand on her shoulder, give her a hug, and ruffle her hair constantly to make sure she was still there. Even after all that had happened, the men had welcomed her back with open arms, even after she had denied Adhemar's having kidnapped her. Adhemar had been just as shocked as they had been. It was the last thing he'd expected to hear from her lips. After his repeated callous treatment of her, she'd chosen to speak for him and not William and her friends.
But why had she done it? Adhemar remembered Kate's whispered words to him as though they had been branded into his forehead. She had said they were even. He had saved her life in the river and she had saved his life, the honor that she had once claimed he did not have, in the confrontation with William and Prince Edward. They were even. Surely it was not the only reason she defended him by denying his offense. Why would it matter to her what came of him as long as she was free? What reason has she to care? She cared? No. He shook his head. She was merely being virtuous. That was her way.
Adhemar tore his eyes away from the disquieting scene across the field. He stared down at the leather reins clasped in his gloved hands. Kate. She never ceased to amaze him. Just when he thought he had her figured out, pegged down, she said or did something that took him completely by surprise. He was not accustomed to being caught unawares. Something about her very being set him on edge. Ever since that rainy night he'd abducted her, she'd been nothing but trouble and a nuisance.
Kate was everything Adhemar had always loathed in a woman. She was intelligent, sharp-tongued, observant, and as much as he hated to admit it, she was right a majority of the time. And yet, he was drawn to her. She was lovely, not a beauty like Lady Jocelyn, but lovely all the same. Kate was real; her attractiveness was in her ordinariness. The way she smiled, her dark hair against her pale ivory skin, the graceful curve of her neck, her large grayish-blue eyes. She was beautiful in her own way, without the luxurious clothing and jewelry. Kate was attractive in her dirty leather apron or in her coarse cloth chemise, dry and wet. The latter thought made Adhemar's lips curve upward slightly as he remembered the swimming lessons. Kate was real. She was her own woman. She was beautiful in her own way. Adhemar knew it was crazy to even try to compare Kate with Jocelyn, but for some reason he kept doing just that.
Adhemar clenched his teeth as more of Kate's laughter drifted across the field. He sent a glare in that general direction. What had been said to make her laugh like that? Who had said it? A rush of resentment filled Adhemar's heart, surprising him. The untried stallion beneath him, sensing Adhemar's state of distraction, began to dance from side to side in an effort to unsettle its rider. He growled at himself, tearing his eyes from a laughing Kate.
Adhemar knew that he needed to focus on the task at hand. His new stallion had yet to be tried in a joust, but after a few practice runs, proved itself and Lord Wesmark's training. Another strain of lilting laughter reached Adhemar's ears. He clenched his teeth together, resisting the automatic urge to glance over there. Shouting out to his mounted sparring partner, Adhemar called for another run through joust. Germaine, waiting off to the side, repeated the call to assure it was carried out. Adhemar kicked his horse into motion.
From where he stood, Germaine did not miss his friend's preoccupied manner, nor did he miss the Count's numerous glances over at Sir William Thatcher's group of attendants. Germaine let out a long sigh as his own gaze fell on the object of Adhemar's attention. His internal sigh deepened even more when he noticed that Kate's eyes were following Adhemar's fast moving form as his mount galloped down the field. An expression of longing passed over her features so quickly Germaine almost missed it. Adhemar's lance struck his opponent's armor and shattered. He gathered his mount and turned to head back towards the opposite side of the practice field. Kate abruptly turned her back attention to William's herald and the redheaded squire, who seemed to be competing with one another for Kate's laughter. Her face softened into a small, affectionate smile as she watched the two men's antics.
Germaine lowered his eyes to the ground in a saddened manner. It was evident that she had missed her friends, and her friends had missed her. He couldn't help but wonder if she would miss her time spent with Adhemar's company. Would she miss Adhemar? Germaine was mostly certain he knew the answer to that. He raised his eyes to where Adhemar and his black charger were headed towards him. Germaine let out another sigh, this one audible as he regarded his friend's determined expression. He knew one thing for sure; Adhemar would be much more unpleasant without her around.
" Germaine!" Adhemar barked. "We're finished for today."
Germaine pursed his lips. Unpleasant was an understatement. He repressed a weary groan.
Adhemar dismounted and after tossing his stallion's reins to a nearby attendant, stalked off to his tent, traces of Kate's laughter following after him.
* * * * *
Kate arose from her bed, unable to sleep. Looking around the dark tent to find everyone slumbering soundly, she quietly slipped from the tent. As the canvas flap fell noiselessly closed, Chaucer's eyes opened to the darkness. He, who had been listening to Kate toss and turn since she'd lain down, had been feigning slumber. Geoff rose from his place beside Wat and Gunther and followed her footsteps out of the tent.
Kate hurried through the night, towards the opposite side of the practice fields. Her bare feet trend the grass, damp with dew. The night was colder than usual, a solemn reminder of the end of the summer season, the coming of fall. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest against the chill that caused her flesh to prickle. She did not stop until she entered Adhemar's camp. Kate wove her way through the wagons and around the camp of soldiers. Most of the fires had been put out for the night, and most of Adhemar's men had long since retired.
Kate's feet fell still in front of Adhemar's tent. The canvas walls glowed and flickered with light from candles within. Count Adhemar had not yet retired. She stood at the entrance, watching Adhemar's shadow move fluidly. Finally, with a deep breath Kate squared her shoulders, reached forward and pulled back the flap.
From a distance away, Chaucer watched Kate with narrowed eyes as she drew back the tent flap and stepped into the lair of the enemy. He inhaled a long breath and let it out in a sigh. As he exhaled, his expression softened.
"Guard your heart well, Kate, for I fear he shall break it." Geoff whispered.
With one last concerned look at Adhemar's tent Chaucer turned and began the walk back to where the rest of the gang lay sleeping.
Kate slipped into Adhemar's tent quietly. Just inside the tent flap was an outer chamber, which was where she stood. Another flap of thinner canvas stood between her and the inner chamber. Through the iridescent cloth the light of a few candles cast Adhemar's silhouette against the flap that separated him from Kate. Before she could convince herself to turn around and head back the way she came, she moved a hand forward and pushed the barrier aside. He stood with his back to her, standing, bent slightly at the waist over papers at his desk. The sound of the tent slap rustling reached his ears.
" You may retire Germaine. I have no further need of you tonight." Adhemar said, not taking his eyes from the papers before him.
Kate did not reply, choosing instead to remain rooted in her spot. Her chest expanded as she took in a large breath and let it out slowly to bolster her courage. Adhemar, having not received an answer or heard his herald exit, turned around.
His eyes widened with surprise when his eyes fell upon her. " Kate," he breathed. His mouth was slightly open, his eyebrows arched slightly in questioning.
A few moments of silence followed as they merely held each other's gazes. Adhemar's eyes suddenly narrowed as he tore his gaze from hers. He pivoted on his heel to face his desk once more, showing her his back. He rested both of his hands on the table's smooth, wooden surface and leaned forward upon them.
" Shouldn't you be with your noble friends and your master Thatcher?" he asked over his shoulder in a somewhat bitter tone. She remained silent to his attempted baiting. He turned his head and sent a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. " Here to curse me one last time, are you?" His voice held a hint of bitterness.
Kate's gaze was steady but her eyes and expression were gentle. " No," she answered simply.
Adhemar slowly spun around to face her. His eyes were hard, his expression suspicious. He leaned back against the desk, half sitting upon it and resting his hands once more upon its dark oak surface.
" Then why are you here?" he asked in a low voice.
" I am not here to curse you nor am I here to lecture. I am not here as a blacksmith, a captive, or even as a friend." Kate shook her head, her voice was quiet and held a hint of uncertainty.
Adhemar's hard expression lost its edge. His voice fell to a near whisper. " Then what are you here as?" he asked, his eyes studying her features intently.
" A woman," she replied with a shrug. " Nothing more. Just Kate."
" A woman?" Adhemar repeated. Kate held his penetrating gaze and nodded. Adhemar let out a satirical laugh. " And I suppose I am just a man. But which man?" Adhemar demanded cynically. " Apparently I am two. Which one am I to be? Which would you have me be, Kate?"
Kate flinched at his cruel tone. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she found the Adhemar had not taken his eyes from her. She caught and held his gaze.
" The man who saved my life. The man I taught to dance. The man who taught me to swim. The man who kissed me." Kate replied. Her voice and eyes softened simultaneously. " The man I fell in love with."
Adhemar's eyes flashed. He blinked, his eyes narrowing cagily. He held her gaze, searching her eyes to see if she was jesting. Adhemar lips parted in surprise at what he found in their silver depths. She had completely opened herself to him, bared her soul. In her tender gaze shone an emotion that he'd never dreamed truly existed. He had believed in it once when he was young only to have his heart trampled by his father. From then on he'd sworn love was nothing but a myth, yet it was there, in Kate's eyes. Kate was filled with love, for him. He blinked as though to clear his vision and looked into her eyes again. It was still there, and if it were possible, was even stronger.
Shaking his head it complete disbelief, he could only stared at her, speechless. Kate swallowed and tore her eyes away.
" I know you don't believe in love," she gave an uneasy laugh. Her voice caught suddenly, much to her dismay. " And I know that I can't make you love me." she continued, despite the pain in her contracting throat. She paused and raised her eyes to his once more. " But I love you. And I want you to love me, even if it's just for tonight." she finished, her voice a whisper, but firm and sincere.
The shock her words struck him with knocked him back a step. His eyes were wide and searching her face. She looked up at him; her face was open, her eyes sparkling with truth and tears. What she said was true, of that Adhemar had no doubts. She was not the type of person to declare such a thing and be uncertain. And here she was offering herself, like a sacrifice to the love she held for him. She was willing to put her heart in his hands for tonight. Tomorrow would bring reality. He felt a pain growing in his chest. He knew what she was offering him. His heart ached at her sincerity.
He hated to see her vulnerable. She had just thrust her heart out to him, knowing full well that he could break it to pieces if he so chose. She loved him. Despite his cruel treatment of her, the feud between him and William, the fact that she was supposed to hate him, and the fact that he'd given her no reason, no incentive at all. She loved him, flaws and all. She loved him. He shook his head in utter amazement at the woman before him. How could she love a man like him?
Adhemar's eyes softened. He stepped forward towards her one step, and then another. Her pulse quickened. He stood so close she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He raised a single hand and cupped her cheek in his palm. A shuddering sigh racked Kate's body at his touch. His green eyes, alight with emotion she'd never seen before, bore into hers. His other large hand moved to her other cheek, holding it gently. His face was a mere inch from hers. His eyes lowered to her lips, which were slightly parted. He ran one thumb over her soft mouth. She inhaled a sharp breath and the contact. His other hand slid from the side of her face to curl around and cradle the nape of her neck. Trembling, she grasped his upper arms for support. Her legs felt as though they would give out so she clung to him to keep herself upright. His gaze was heavy upon her face, full of an intense hunger. Then he sharply turned his face away from hers. Kate's heart nearly stopped beating. He slowly turned his head, and his eyes met hers again. Kate inhaled a quick breath as she noticed the nature of his gaze had changed from tender longing too determined detachment.
" I can't," he whispered hoarsely.
Kate's eyes slid slowly closed, but not before he saw their depths darken with pain. His words echoed over and over in her brain. She swallowed with difficulty the sob that rose in her aching throat. Pulling away from his caress, she moved away from him. She felt a sudden wave of weariness creep into her muscles, suddenly she felt overwhelmed by the trials of the past few weeks. Her head was bowed; her body slumped as she turned and slowly walked out of the tent, which she had walked into earlier with her heart wide open.
" Kate," Adhemar called after her.
She did not turn around.
She disappeared into the night. Adhemar let out an animal-like growl and began to ravage his tent; throwing everything he could get his hands on, overturning everything standing. After his bout of rage was spent he grew still. His head turned slowly from side to side as he surveyed the damage he had done. His desk and bed were overturned, papers and clothing were strewn everywhere. Every candle but one had been extinguished. Adhemar lowered himself to sit the ground; his legs were splayed carelessly before him as he put a hand to his forehead.
Hadn't he told her love was a weakness? Hadn't he told her…? He ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders slumped. A voice in the back of his mind whispered that there were a lot of things he hadn't told her. A lot of things he hadn't told himself. Adhemar made a guttural sound low in his throat. It was too late now, too late for a change of plans. He had a revenge to carry through with. On the morrow he would have revenge against his worst enemy. It would be a sweet revenge. The thought comforted him. Maybe then, once he avenged his own honor and severely crushed Thatcher, maybe this aching in his chest would fade. Maybe then he would feel complete, the satisfaction of revenge having filled the sudden void he felt deep in his soul.
* * * * *
Okay everyone. I have the honor, the privilege, nay, the pleasure, to tell you that you have just read the next to last chapter. In other words, the next chapter, Chapter 26, will be the final chapter. With the next chapter, the saga that is Sweet Revenge will be completed. I'm going to try to finish Chapter 26 by New Years at the latest. Hopefully my writing muse and the characters will participate with that timetable. See you then!