Page 15 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

Epilogue

“ H e will be a difficult man to recruit.”

Rystan and Anwen stood in the courtyard to say their final goodbyes. His wife had already done so, more than once, and now sat atop her mount waiting as he spoke to Sir Eamon.

“Indeed, but we will attempt it anyway,” Sir Eamon said.

Their time at Blackwood had come to an end.

Rystan and Anwen would have liked to remain with their companions and new friends, mostly especially Anwen with Lady Evelina, or Evie as she called her, who had become more like family these past days.

But the Guardians of the Sacred Oak had need for them along the border where continued unrest threatened their cause.

When the order had come, that it had been addressed both to he and Anwen was, he suspected, courtesy of Sir Eamon who was clearing taking his role as her champion seriously.

Rystan promised Anwen they could return someday, but for now, Castle Blackwood would be left in the care of others.

“Sir Gareth would be a welcome addition,” Rystan admitted. “Especially if rumors of the king’s procurement of mercenaries are true. It would be a sizable increase that could tip the scales in his favor.”

“In numbers, aye,” Fitzwilliam agreed beside him. “That he has no knowledge of our Order, and its capabilities, works in our favor.”

As the two debated, one that would continue, he did not doubt, well into the night, Rystan caught his wife’s eyes as her gaze rested on him.

As they’d discussed the early morning of their wedding day, neither could predict precisely what the future held for them, but one thing was for certain. . . they would be doing it together.

“We bid you fare thee well,” he said, mounting. “May the next time we meet it be under the reign of our rightful queen.”

“Thank you both,” Sir Eamon said. “For your service to the Guardians of the Sacred Oak.”

“If not for this mission,” Anwen reigned in her impatient mount that danced beneath her. “We’d not be wed. So it is you we have to thank for such a fortuitous occasion.”

Something about the swordsman’s smile gave Rystan pause. It was as if. . .

“Fortuitous,” Anwen said beside him. “Indeed.”

He looked back and forth between them, but it wasn’t until they’d passed through the gates and were well on their way north Rystan re-visited the topic.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken of how, precisely, Sir Eamon knows your family.”

Rystan was certain now, watching Anwen’s expression change to sly pleasure from its previous passive one that his hunch was correct.

“He and my father fought alongside each other in more than one campaign. I remember our first meeting when he came to Clarefield, the warrior so imposing-looking, until he smiled. He is, I believe, the embodiment of a chivalrous knight. Deadly on the battlefield, amicable off it.”

“We can discuss his attributes later, perhaps. But I am presently more curious about his involvement in bringing you to Blackwood.”

Anwen reached forward, patting her beloved mount, likely without realizing she’d done so. Her smile, telling.

“It is my belief, after speaking with him just after breaking our fast, Sir Eamon was not simply involved in my coming to Blackwood to serve as castellan. Rather, I am certain ‘twas his idea to do so.”

Crafty swordsman. He owed the man his life, if what she implied was true. “What did he say to you?”

“Only that he’d once loved a woman, and lost her. And that the Guardians need more than skilled warriors. He said, ‘We need men who remember what they're fighting to protect.’”

Her smile widened.

Their future, together, an expanse of green fields lying before them as he and Anwen rode to their next mission. His wife, courtesy of one of the most battle-hardened knights Rystan knew. One who was clearly, and most unexpectedly, given to matters of the heart. A matchmaker, in fact.

“He saw an opportunity to serve your father, one final time, and took it,” he mused.

“Aye,” Anwen confirmed. “I believe so, though Sir Eamon simply smiled when I suggested as much.”

“I am glad for it.”

“As am I, husband. And I believe his words ring true. What do the Guardians fight for, in truth? Justice? Aye. But what is justice if not for the protection of all we hold dear? Lands and titles mean naught without the sacred bonds of family and love. Do you not agree?”

What, indeed, do we fight for?

It was a question, Rystan could admit, that was too infrequently asked. Even he, an earl’s son who had forfeited everything for a greater cause, had not considered why that cause was so dear to him.

He too, like Sir Eamon, had lost the one thing that mattered most. In that loss, he'd gained knowledge that he suspected many of his fellow Guardians had yet to learn.

How many of them fought with empty hearts, believing duty and love were opposing forces?

How many would discover, as he had, that a man without love to protect fought only half as fiercely as one who did?

“I do, ma belle. ‘Tis a lesson hard fought for me to learn.”

She understood his meaning.

“We can not get back those years, ‘tis true. But we can savor the ones to come.”

“Well said. I shall begin savoring this eve.”

“As shall I, my love.”

Craving more knights, secrets, and slow-burn romance?

Start with To Honor , book one of The Knight School Chronicles .