CHAPTER 12
"What are you thinking?"
"Hmm?" Will's voice had jarred me from remembering the last time I had walked with a man alone in the glen. "Oh, nothing. Why?"
"You look sad," Will answered. Frowning, I glared at him.
"Well, I'm not." We continued walking in silence, Will slightly ahead of me, glancing at me from time to time. I refused to look at him and kept an appropriate distance between us, but he continued to read me with his eyes. I hated it and felt my body growing stiffer as he looked at me.
"Can you stop that? Don't you have something better to look at?" I snapped.
"Well, now that's a good question," Will said. "It's a near perfect fall day. There's just a bite of winter in the air, and leaves are all gold and red. The sky is a canopy of grey over us. So yes, Nyssa, there are many things to look at, but better…I am not sure."
He gazed at me warmly and sympathetically with those disarming hazel eyes, and I quickly looked away. "Perhaps you need spectacles," I offered.
Will smiled then, despite himself. "Perhaps you might tell me what you were thinking that made you look sad,"
I swallowed. "Just about…how lying comes easily to some."
Will said nothing, but kept walking beside me. We kept that silence for a while, a silence that went from awkward to more comfortable, as I realized I did not have to make idle chat. As we walked, I began to notice what Will had spoken of: the carpet of leaves on the forest floor, the chill in the air, and eventually a comforting smell of burning wood. I knew we were nearing the smithy, because I caught a sharp acrid scent of melted metal and ore.
As we rounded the next bend, I saw the blacksmith's hut come into view. We were greeted by two friendly spaniels who obviously knew Will. They begged him for scratches on their ears before uttering brief barks to their master. Will called out "Master Ciaran! It's Tom's son Will to see you!"
Ciaran appeared from the back yard, wearing a smith's apron. He was a big, friendly looking man, well muscled with grey growing in at his temples, and smiled to see Will. "Ah, Will! Glad to see you!" They shook hands briefly before he looked at me expectantly. "And who's this?"
"This is Master Edan's daughter, Nyssa," Will said. "She…came with me today to help. I've had a commission for a sword from some noble brat teenager, who's about her size. I needed a model for the length of the sword."
"Well then, Nyssa, how kind of you to come," Master Ciaran replied, his eyes sparkling. I smiled shyly. "I'm sure it was a great hardship for Will to bring along such a beauty."
We both blushed furiously.
"How delightful. She has no idea what you're up to, Will," Ciaran commented gleefully. "Well, I've embarrassed you both enough. Come look at the material I have, Will."
As we followed him, I whispered, "I thought you were the one making this sword!"
"I am," he whispered back. "But he has access to the best steel in the county and sells it cheaply to Father because they are friends. I just want to see what he has." He jerked his head for me to follow him into Ciaran's storage house, where we came upon an array of metal pieces, some steel, others iron and in many varying sizes and weights. Will and Ciaran knelt, and Will began picking through what was there, often muttering, "No, too heavy," or "No, too long." Eventually he found three pieces that he seemed pleased with, and stood up, leaning the three of them against the wall. He grabbed a nearby rag and wrapped one end of the first. "Here, Nyssa, see how this feels to you." I took the sheet of iron with its wrapping, and tried to lift. "It's a bit heavy."
"I agree," said Will. "Not properly balanced. Try this."
I tried the second, which felt much the same, but the third had a lightness and play about it even in a raw form, that I liked. "This one," I told him. Will measured my arm with his eyes, then the piece of metal, and sighed. "Steel, of course," he said. "I'm sure it's your most expensive."
"The lady has a keen eye," said Ciaran, pleased. "From France."
I shuddered a moment, thinking only of France as a place that had changed Guy for the worse. "Really?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.
"Aye, lass, I hate the French too, but they sell damn good steel," Ciaran said. "I will send it along to your house, Will. We can settle on a price when you're not…courting."
"He is not courting me," I said coolly, now tired of being teased. "We are only friends in trade."
I saw hurt flash briefly in Will's eyes, before he nodded. "She speaks rightly, Ciaran. Much as I try, the lady keeps me at arm's length."
"Well, she's a smart lass, then," Ciaran said. He looked at the two of us, a smile on his face. "You should know he doesn't give up easily, Nyssa. He might change your mind. Much the worse for you," he finished, still laughing. "All right, be off with you both. I've got work to do." He gave Will a small wave as we moved towards the door of the storage house, and winked at me.
As we walked back to the path, I said, "I like him."
"I knew you would."
I laughed a little. "He seems honest and forthright. Good qualities to have in trade, and not always easy to come by."
"As always, we are of one mind," Will said. He smiled at me, glancing ahead. "Watch out, you're about to step into a hole—"
I tripped. His hand immediately reached for my arm to support me, and he caught my waist with the other. I gasped from surprise and from the sudden contact, automatically straightening myself and stumbling away. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so clumsy-"
"No, you just don't know this path," Will gently said, catching my hand. His face had come close to mine for a moment, and I saw compassion in his eyes. "It's easy to fall unless you do." I wanted to keep looking at him in that moment, to let myself trust again, and to see what would happen next. But I was still too afraid. I moved back a bit further and drew my hand away, feeling singed. Will looked as though he had expected this, and regarded me softly. "Nyssa," he said. "Not everyone lies."
I turned away, tears stinging my eyes. "I know," I managed to say. "Let's keep walking." Will made no reply, but moved ahead of me. We resumed our silent walk, eventually reaching the town road that led towards my house. It was growing late, and the lights in the taverns were coming up. I smelled ale and sounds of men talking and laughing inside. As we passed, several men stumbled out, arms around each other's shoulders, speaking incoherently. I jumped in surprise and Will instinctively stepped towards me. "It's all right, they're in high spirits," he said glancing after the men. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes," I answered, "but you know I can't go into a tavern for dinner."
"I understand, of course," Will said. "No respectable unmarried woman should. I happen to know the tavern owner though, and he might give us a small meal to share out here, perhaps on the green. Your father wouldn't mind, do you think?"
"I'm sure he would be thrilled," I said bitterly, and Will caught my tone. He finally lost patience with me.
"You don't have to say yes. In fact, I'm happy to take you home straight way if that's what you want. I certainly have no wish to be with someone who despises my company."
I dropped my gaze. "I'm sorry, Will," I said. "This all is…hard for me. You've been very kind to me today and I have no right to lash out at you, or my father. Please pardon my temper, it does get the best of me sometimes." I looked back at him. "I'd be happy to share supper with you, if I can pay for half of it." I held out two coins fro my purse, cocking my head speculatively.
"I will take them, but there is no need," Will said. "Ragnar never lets me pay for food here." He turned, a small smile on his face. "Wait here for a few moments. I'll be back shortly." He strode into the tavern, briefly letting out a gust of noise and hearty laughter. As he entered, he nearly crossed paths with another stumbling devotee of spirits, who had been deep in his cups. I could only see an outline of the tall figure or I would have certainly moved away from the tavern entrance before I heard my name called.
"Nyssa?"
The voice. His voice.
Once it had sent a spike of heat through my body. Now, chills were racing down my spine as I realized the outlined figure was Sir Guy. I started to move away, but he called again.
"Nyssa? Is that you?" His voice was deep, husky from drink and more heavily accented than usual. I felt him stumble against me, and then abruptly pull me into the evening's fading light. His face was urgent, almost panicked, until he saw that it was in fact, me. Heavy lidded and unfocused, his eyes lit up a bit at recognizing me. "Oh, God's bones, it is you…" Guy said, his voice cracking. His face began to slip into a long forgotten smile as he looked at me.
As furious as I was with him, I could not stop trembling, nor stop staring. I wanted to move away, but I could only absorb the sight of him, even if he was in a very altered state. He was breathtakingly alive and so beautiful. Stubble had grown in along his jawline and his dark hair brushed his collar in waves. His sapphire eyes scorched over my face and collarbone, drinking me in as if he had lived in a desert. I felt his hand reach to hold the back of my head in a familiar gesture, and it was then that the spell was broken. I pushed back against his chest, hard, and he staggered back.
"How. Dare. You." I seethed at him. "You lying, filthy bastard!"
"Shhh, shh," Guy said softly, trying to move towards me again, but I would not be shushed.
"No!' I cried. "I have heard nothing, nothing from you for two months! You lied to me! You lied and you taunted me, you earsling!"
"Nyssa, be silent," Guy commanded. In move that I never saw coming, he crossed the distance between us, roughly gripping and pulling me to him. I beat against his chest with my fists, trying to strike him, scratch him, inflict some measure of the hurt he had inflicted on me. Guy was so tall that I could barely reach his shoulders, and seemed mildly amused by my efforts. With little effort, he easily grabbed my wrists and held them still, but I struggled like mad, kicking, fighting, wrestling my body away from him in any way that I could. "Stop it!" he hissed at me.
"Never!" I shouted back. "I will never stop fighting you!" My foot connected with his shin and I heard him inhale sharply in pain, then grunt in anger. He dragged me back towards the tavern, slamming me against the wall of the building and trapping me there, his arms on either side of my shoulders. I breathed heavily, glaring at him. "Calm down!" he ordered, glaring back.
In answer, I spat in his face, and attacked it with my nails. I wanted to destroy him, kill his beauty, which hid a violent beast underneath. Furiously surprised, Guy retaliated by gripping my hands in one of his, and smashing them back against the wall over my head. Panting, I glared at him and was readying myself for a blow, tilting my chin up to receive it. He breathed heavily, rage in his eyes. His breath smelled of whisky, and sweat stood out on his upper lip. I wanted to lick it, then bruise it. As this thought flashed through my head, Guy rasped out,
"God's bones, you arouse me so with your mettle!"
My head knocked back against the wall as Guy's lips crushed against mine in a bold, violent kiss that took everything and gave nothing. He kept me pinned there, ravishing my mouth, and I bit back against him, my teeth catching his lip. I tasted blood, but Guy did not stop, his tongue savage in my mouth, exploring every corner, every part. I was losing my ability to breathe easily, and wondered if he was in fact trying to suffocate me. I struggled, but the more I did the harder he drove his body against mine. I could feel his excitement, fury and fierceness all at once, which only increased my own. I wanted to hit him, hurt him, make him pay for his lies. Despite my fury, tears were gathering in my eyes, spilling over and down my cheeks, and I knew I would not be able to fight him much longer; he was simply too strong. As my fight lessened, Guy's assault on my lips grew calmer as well. I felt him breathe out against my mouth and his deep baritone rumbled in my ear.
"You taste of sunlight and honey."
His sudden gentleness broke my heart even further, and more tears fell down my cheeks as I looked up at him. He looked back at me, sadness filling his face as he saw my tears. He moved to kiss one away when I heard the tavern door swing open and the zing of a blade being drawn.
"Let her go."
I felt Guy stiffen, and nearly cried out for relief as I recognized Will's voice. Guy slowly turned a baleful gaze at Will. "This is none of your affair, boy," he said in a low, threatening tone.
"I said," Will repeated in a dangerous voice, "let her go." I turned my head a little to see that his sword was drawn, the tip resting on Guy's ribcage. Guy was furious, but slowly released my hands, and I scrambled past him to Will's other side, moving well away from the tavern door. Guy stared after me, looking as if he wanted to follow, but Will raised his sword to eye level and simply said. "Don't."
"You have a great deal of nerve, boy," Guy said threateningly. "Do you know who I am?"
"I am not a boy and everyone knows who you are, Sir Guy," Will said. "I also know that knights share a code of honor. Given your condition, perhaps you forgot this."
"How dare you?" Guy snapped, reaching clumsily for his own sword, but Will moved forward and easily disarmed him. "I won't fight you in this state, Sir Guy," Will said evenly. "But I won't let you hurt the daughter of a fellow tradesman, either. Nyssa, move onto the road and start walking. I will follow shortly." Will's gaze tracked Guy like a hawk as I began to move away. Guy scowled after me, his lip bloody, eyes misty but focused. As I turned onto the main road, I heard him say quietly,
"This is all far from over."
I heard Will answer, but knew Guy's words were not meant for him.
