Page 74 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

H e had celebrated too heavily.

After their meal, Roland and Amalia washed with a bowl of water and promptly fell asleep. It was not the wedding night he’d dreamed of, but after their hasty retreat to Oxford and days of little sleep, darkness had taken him the moment Roland closed his eyes.

He awoke before the sun rose with Amalia beside him. Pulling her closer, he fell back to sleep once again, awaking for the second time to a pounding on the door. The men, according to Darien, were being summoned by Sir Eamon.

“Amalia,” he said, awaking her with a kiss on the forehead. “I must go to Eamon. I’ll have a bath and meal sent up. Will you remain in this chamber until I return?”

Her hazel eyes fixed on him. “Is it unsafe below?”

“I do not know. The reputation of this particular establishment is not one I’m familiar with and would not take any chances. I will return as soon as I am able.”

She laid her head back down. “I love you,” she said.

It had been the last thing he heard before falling asleep last eve, and Roland wished to hear it every night for the rest of his days.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her once again and taking a saddlebag with him.

The river Thames was close by, and he intended to wash properly after attending to Sir Eamon’s summons.

The men were called into the courtyard of the manor house where Matilda was staying. Baron St. John, one of her strongest allies, was nowhere to be seen, but the empress was there, standing beside his swordmaster.

“Has he said aught yet?”

“Nay.” Darien and Alden were, as usual, together. While the men broke their fast at the inn, Roland had made arrangements for Amalia’s meal and a hot bath. He also paid the innkeeper handsomely to ensure she remained protected while at the inn.

But it was not Sir Eamon who spoke.

The rightful Queen of England raised a hand, and the men quickly quieted.

“I thank you for bringing me to safety. You swore an oath to me and fulfilled it as we fled from London. I am unharmed. Uncaptured. And not deterred in ensuring the usurper Stephen of Blois does not remain king of England.”

The men cheered, Roland and his friends included.

“We were not successful on this day, but the king remains our captive. By forging new alliances and continuing the efforts you’ve so valiantly begun under the tutelage of the most skillful knights in the land, we will overcome.”

Another round of cheers eventually died down when Sir Eamon spoke.

“The empress will remain at Oxford, safely ensconced in this great fortress, to be joined by Robert of Gloucester and other of her supporters. On the morrow, we will return to Castle Blackwood and continue to train, ready for whatever lies ahead. We are the Guardians of the Sacred Oak. You’ve done your duty well.

A small contingency will return to the field of battle to ensure our fallen are given a proper burial, and the rest of us will meet our Sacred Oak again when she calls for our service. We leave at dawn. You are dismissed.”

Sir Eamon summoned he and Alden with Matilda by his side.

“Alden, I would have you lead a party of twenty men of your choosing back to Buckinghamshire to ensure our men are given a proper burial.”

Though Roland could sense Alden was surprised at being asked to lead such a party, he nodded in agreement and bowed to the empress. “As you wish.”

He was proud of his friend. Alden worked hard to be respected, the only one of them not a knight, though he had no doubt someday Alden would achieve knighthood.

“De Vere,” Eamon said, “remain here.”

As it was a dismissal to the others, Alden and Darien bowed to the empress and left.

“Empress Matilda wishes to know the whereabouts of Mistress Amalia,” Eamon said with no small measure of displeasure dripping from his tone.

“She is safely secured at the Griffin Inn. We are now handfasted,” he added, prepared for questions from both parties.

The empress’s look of surprise meant Sir Eamon had not told her.

“Your father will not be pleased,” she said.

“I can assure you, he is already displeased by my support of your cause and will likely be more so when he learns I’ve joined the Guardians order.”

“Do you think to garner his favor,” Eamon asked, “by handfasting and not taking Amalia as your wife?”

“I do.”

“I like her.”

That, from the empress.

Roland smiled at the formidable woman. “As do I, Your Grace.”

“When I take the crown, I shall pardon your family for your contribution to me.”

Roland could not tell, by his expression, whether he or Sir Eamon was more surprised by that declaration.

“That is very kind of you, Your Grace.”

“Since Eamon insists you are more skilled with a sword than he, continue to use that sword arm for my cause and tell your father to keep his men from the battlefield.” With that, she turned from them. “Good day, de Vere.”

“Good day,” he said to her retreating back.

He and Eamon stared at one another.

“Treat her well,” Sir Eamon finally said. “I have cared for the girl since she joined my daughter. Amalia is good and kind.”

“I know it well,” Roland replied.

“You’ve been given a boon this day. I suggest you speak to your father before returning to Blackwood.” He lowered his voice. “She does not know your brother was there.”

The empress seemed to know all, as did Eamon, so he was surprised to hear of it. But also wondered how the swordmaster knew. Before Roland asked, Eamon said, “I heard your cries. Saw your brother spared. He was lucky. Darien’s aim is always true.”

Roland knew it well. “I do not disagree with you.”

“Go. Take Amalia with you. We will meet again at Blackwood. It seems there is more work to be done.”

“Thank you for your blessing, Sir Eamon.” He thought back to their conversation and amended. “Do I have your blessing to make Amalia my wife?”

“Does it matter if I give it?”

Roland knew better than to answer that question.

Eamon made a face, but said, “I have witnessed with my own eyes you growing into a man these past days. She is good for you, and I believe you will be good for her as well. You have my blessing.”

Roland smiled broadly. Now he just needed one more to say the same.

“Thank you, sir.”

Eamon inclined his head in a small gesture of deference. “Lord de Vere.”

It was the first time his swordmaster had used that title, but Roland did not have an opportunity to think more on it as Eamon turned and left.

He and Amalia were going home.