Page 92

Kelso, Scotland

The Borders

I t was a far bigger fair than Thomas had been led to believe.

The day was brilliant, a bright blue sky above and the sun was giving off some warmth that was positively glorious.

The village of Kelso was full of people at the early hour of the morning, farmers and merchants and potential customers, all of them moving through the occasionally muddy streets of Kelso on Market Day.

Kelso had a charter to hold a market and they did, every Sunday, one that was especially busy when the pious emerged from mass, as they were now.

Matins was over and people were spilling out into the vast market area to purchase their goods.

But more than the customers and merchants at this hour, there was also a deluge of knights and armed men filling the town as well.

It was almost three miles exactly from Edenside to the market street, which ran next to Kelso’s vast abbey.

On the east side of the town, on an island between two branches of the River Tweed, stood Roxburgh Castle, and Thomas could see the mighty fortress as they arrived at the market.

It was a magnificent bastion, rising up over the land with its gray towers and powerful gatehouse.

With the morning sun glistening off of it, it almost looked white, like something straight from the halls of heaven.

It was difficult to keep his mind on what he was doing as he spied the castle, knowing his close friends were there, but he’d committed to helping Maitland set up the stall to sell their cheese.

It was rather demeaning work for a man of his reputation and stature to be helping with menial tasks, but anything to keep him close to Maitland, he would do without question.

Where she was concerned, he had little pride.

The ride to Kelso that morning had been quiet between them, with no meaningful words but meaningful glances the entire way.

They still hadn’t spoken about what had happened the day before, but the more Thomas spent time with her that morning, helping her set up her stall and speaking of things that were related to those tasks, the more he could sense that she wasn’t troubled by what had happened.

Considering she had initiated it, he wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t feel terribly ashamed and guilty about it, but as the morning deepened, and the more time they spent together, the more he could see that she wasn’t bothered by it.

If anything, there was a light in her eyes that he’d never seen before.

It put a zest in his step, giving him that feeling of walking on air again.

He’d never known such foolish joy, and when the stall opened for business, he started grabbing people off the street and dragging them over to the stall, forcing them to taste the cheese and then forcing them to buy it, even if they hadn’t come to the marketplace for cheese.

After the fifth customer he’d commandeered bought four round blobs of the delicious goat cheese, he began to walk up and down the avenue, grabbing anyone who looked like they had the money to buy the cheese.

Terrified people were pulled over to a stall that contained two women and seven small children, all of them delighted to sell the goat cheese that was truly delicious.

Even if the cheese had been awful, the force-fed customers would have bought it anyway, simply to spare them the wrath of the big, muscular knight who seemed to be their champion.

Thomas’ strong-arm tactics worked. By mid-morning, nearly all of the cheese had been sold.

It sold for two pence for a half-pint of the cheese, and they’d brought almost fifty half-pint blobs with them.

Now, they only had seven left and the children were wildly excited about the money they’d made.

Maitland took the opportunity to teach them a little about counting, and money, and she counted out the coins in front of them, and they had a little over seven shillings total, which was an astronomical amount of money to them.

Already, their Market Day had been a success.

Thomas watched as Maitland taught the children about money, giving each one of them a pence to keep.

To see their faces when she gave them the money, one would have thought that the crown jewels had just been handed over to them.

Maitland told them to save it, but Artus wanted to know if he could buy himself some shoes because the only ones he had were worn and had holes in the sole.

In truth, Thomas thought it was a little sad that the child should want to buy himself shoes– not a toy, or sweets, but shoes.

That was the extent of his lavish thinking.

That gave Thomas an idea and he told Maitland he would return shortly.

Heading out of the stall, he went in search of a tanner, but he hadn’t taken ten steps when he caught sight of a group of knights heading in from the east. Ever observant, he peered at the group, coming in from the far side of the town, before coming to realize that he knew them.

He recognized the colors.

The first thing he saw was the de Longley crest, three hugely clawed falcons imposed over a sword, framed in a three-point shield.

The colors of scarlet and black announced that the knights of Northwood Castle were making an appearance.

Thomas knew those colors, and that crest, as well as he knew his father’s own standards.

They were colors that dominated Northumberland because everyone in the north knew of Northwood Castle and the House of de Longley, the Earls of Teviot.

Thomas’ nearest and dearest had arrived.

So, he stood in the middle of the road, facing them as they approached, his big arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face.

He could see them drawing closer and closer, paying more attention to what was going on around them than what was in front of them.

Then, someone caught sight of him because he heard his name shouted.

The entire group looked in his direction and he could see expressions of glee spread over the familiar faces.

“Thomas!”

It was Hector de Norville, a man who also happened to be married to Thomas’ sister, Evelyn.

A big man with a crown of red hair that had now mostly gone to gray, he lifted a gloved hand to Thomas, who lifted his in return.

Behind Hector were his two sons, Atreus and Hermes, strong young knights who saw their Uncle Thomas and made a dash for him on their new Belgian war horses that were difficult to control.

Fledgling knights and excitable horses almost always made a bad combination.

In fact, Thomas had to get out of the way when Hermes came too close because his cream-colored horse didn’t seem to want to stop.

The horse roared past him, all mane and tail and thundering hooves.

Irritated, Thomas slapped the horse on the rump, which caused the horse to start and ended up nearly dumping Hermes.

Thomas threw up his hands as he turned to Hector.

“You let them bring beasts like that into town?” he asked. “They are going to kill everyone.”

Hector snorted. “Or they shall teach my sons a very valuable lesson,” he said, watching his sons dismount the horses so they wouldn’t be thrown.

“Those are a gift from their grandfather. I told my father not to give them those horses, but he insisted when he saw them at a dealer in Berwick. He says every young knight must have a wild horse to tame.”

Thomas snorted. “That sounds like Uncle Paris,” he said, looking at the group of knights behind Hector. “He did not come with you?”

Hector shook his head. “My father is lazy in his old age,” he said. “He did not want to come.”

“Where is Teviot?”

He was referring to the Earl of Teviot, the lord and master of Northwood Castle who, long ago, had also been a knight under the command of William de Wolfe before his father passed away and left him the title.

He had made a very fine earl for over forty years, as he’d been young when he’d inherited the title, and Adam de Longley had earned himself the name of “Teviot the Good” because of his benevolence over the years.

His manner, his fairness, had been a tribute to the fine training of William de Wolfe those many years ago.

“De Longley has not been well,” Hector said, his mood dampening a bit. “He has something in his chest that the doctors cannot seem to cure, a cough that has become worse over time. His lady wife thought it best for him not to exert himself with a trip to Kelso.”

Thomas knew that Adam had not been in the best of health as of late. It was troubling to hear. “I will make a point of visiting Northwood one of these days to see him,” he said. “His sons did not come, either?”

Hector shook his head. “One is in France and the other is in London,” he said. “Why are you here? Did you come for the tournament?”

Thomas opened his mouth to tell him, but something made him hesitate. Telling Hector that he’d escorted two women and seven children into town didn’t sound very masculine, in retrospect, but he couldn’t very well lie.

“I am the patron of the Edenside foundling home,” he said, trying to make it sound prestigious, like he hadn’t just herded a bunch of women and children into town.

“The woman in charge has brought the children into town to sell their cheese. She is trying to make the home self-sufficient and I support her efforts.”

That sounded masculine enough, or at least benevolent enough, and Hector nodded his head as if impressed. “Tommy the Benefactor,” he said with a grin. “You are taking after your parents. I swear, they support half the charities in Northumberland.”

“Aye, they do. A worthy thing, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Hector agreed. “So you are telling me you are not here to compete in the tournament? I am disappointed. I wanted you on our team.”