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That night she lay panting, her cheek on Rolf’s chest. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat. His palm lightly rubbed up and down her arm, and she shivered with pleasure.

“When will you leave?” The thought of waking without him was making her emotional. She would not cry in front of him. This was a time of bliss, a sweet memory to hold in the back of her mind when he had gone.

“Two days. I will put my affairs in order and take any correspondence Cristiana may have. I hope to be back within two months, depending on tricks Henry has planned.”

“Would you bring back some fine white linen? With the spring, I imagine the cloth merchants will be spilling into port.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Anything you desire. How much do you need?”

“Just enough for a christening gown.” His body went still. She smiled into his chest.

He tipped her chin up with one finger. “Are you…”

Melissa nodded. He closed his eyes and his chest rose as he took in deep breath and let it out slowly. Is he not happy?

When he opened his eyes, there was such tenderness in them that Melissa thought she would cry.

He leaned onto one elbow and cupped her face with his palm.

His thumb rubbed her cheek while his eyes scanned every inch of her face.

“You have given me the most precious gift. Each day, I do not think my cup could hold more, and yet you give me this news.” He leaned down and gently kissed her eyes, temples, nose, then brushed her lips with his.

“If you need me, send word. I can be here in a day if I take to the sky.”

Apprehension skittered up her back. “Let us hope that is not necessary.”

Then his mouth covered hers and there was no more need for words.

***

Cristiana bent over the seedlings in the herb garden.

The plants were thriving and Melissa helped with the weeding and watering.

Rolf had been gone almost a month and half.

Her belly swelled only slightly at this point, but she found her hand rubbing the growing bump often.

His last letter had said he was gathering supplies and more men to escort them to Wales.

He would be home in two weeks. Just days, yet it seemed like a lifetime to wait.

Melissa had seen him in the flesh only once during his absence.

He had arrived late one night. The sound of a falcon cawing outside her window.

It was too risky for him to attempt the flight often.

Without Merlin’s amulet, Rolf could be struck down by an arrow or another predator.

When she had tried to give the pendant back to him, he had steadfastly refused.

“I have William to protect me. I cannot see anything less than a dragon getting past him.” The thought had put a comical picture in her head. “And young Trystan grows strong in his training. He has promised to be my champion when Sir Blackbourne is too old.”

“Methinks William did not find that so amusing.” He had chuckled but drawn her into his arms. “You are more precious to me than life. And I cannot risk our child that grows in your womb.”

At night, she would fall asleep and be with him in her dreams. Smiling, taunting, kissing her. Melissa would wake, alone in their bed, and rise to get through another day without him.

“We have put in a fine morning’s work,” Cristiana commented as they walked the garden. “By the time you leave, I should be able to send some of these with you for your own garden.”

“This may seem ungrateful to our sovereign, but I am in no hurry to leave Wolfton. We have seen so much change in the past months, I am content here.” She gave Cristiana a hug. “And I will have to say goodbye. First, Elsa and now you. I find I don’t care for farewells.”

“That is good to hear. I have been thinking about our situation.” She paused at a stone bench and waved for both of them to sit. “Once my father is declared dead, the King will marry me off to one of his favored vassals. I doubt I will be as lucky as you.

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but Cristiana held up her hand.

“We both know I cannot continue my role here. Nor can I return to the abbey. The thought of marriage without love, considering our family history, is abhorrent to me. I cannot settle for less than what you and Rolf have.”

“What about William? I see how you watch at him. I recognize the look in your eyes.” She wanted to help this woman who had welcomed her into this family. Melissa had always wanted a sister, and Cristiana filled that void. “He cares for you.”

“In truth, I have loved the man since I was eight years old. But he is not of my station nor does he love me. William enjoys women in general, not any in particular.” She sighed with resignation. “Even if he acquired a title, I do not believe he could ever be faithful.”

“I do,” Melissa argued. “The unfailing loyalty he shows to Rolf is proof of that. If he can pledge such devotion to my husband, he could pledge it to you.”

“I agree he is a good man, but he swears allegiance to my brother. That is much different from devoting himself to only one woman.” Her smile was melancholy. “I will admit it has brightened my day to have him here. Never has another man been able to make me laugh as he does.”

“We will agree to disagree on this.”

“Back to my point, I want to request that the King bequeath these lands back to Rolf. My father has been gone seven years. It has been four since we received a letter.”

If Rolf were to regain these lands… Melissa knew he would never agree to it.

“It is something to consider. Now, you needed more of the Melissa plant—the lemon herb you love so much.”

Cristiana had been instructing her on medicinal herbs.

There had been a healer on her father’s lands to care for the villagers and a physician for their family.

The luxury of a nearby physician might not be available in Wales.

Now that she would be lady of her estates, Melissa thought it would be prudent to at least know what herbs were needed for a basic garden. She found the subject fascinating.

Marjoram and mint were good for the stomach; sage purges the body; burning thyme and rosemary helped against the plague; and yarrow made an excellent salve for wounds or taken for headaches. Cristiana’s knowledge amazed her and she had scribbled pages of notes to take with her.

“I have made some illustrations for you to take. It will help find some of the herbs that grow wild in your area. Did you know your specific lemon plant is also good for melancholy? You can also use it to lure bees into a new hive if you plan on having your own honey.”

“Perhaps I should use your drawings to practice finding specimens in the woods before I go. It would give me confidence to know if I identified the correct one, or just a similar weed!”

“I think that’s a splendid idea.” Cristiana chuckled. “Rolf would never let me forget it, if you tried to cure his cough with a weed. You could go out tomorrow with William and Trystan. I’ll make a list and add some we haven’t discussed to see how well you do.”

“Trystan is clever and will enjoy the challenge.” Melissa decided to spend the rest of the day in correspondence. She had not yet informed her family of her condition, wanting to wait until she was far enough along in her pregnancy.

***

“Is this one?” Melissa and Trystan studied the sketch of marjoram. He had already gathered three different types of herbs and Melissa thought she had finally found one.

“Nay, milady. The shape of the leaf looks similar but look at the edges.” He looked at her with sympathy. “But it was a good try. You’ll find one soon, I’m sure.”

Melissa smiled at the boy as he crouched under a tree, peering at a green sprout.

He had grown since December and stood past her shoulder now.

At twelve, his body was beginning to fill out.

The arms and legs that were once skinny and sinewy were beginning to form muscle.

He had begun training daily with William and practiced moves with whatever he held in his hands during the rest of his spare time.

An unnatural pulsing beat against Melissa’s chest. Her hand reached inside her cloak.

The amulet. She looked around the dim interior of the woods.

William sat under a tree, his hands cupped behind his head with one leg sprawled out.

Another knight stood guard at the entrance of the woods.

It was a gray, cloudy day with a stiff breeze now coming from the north.

Melissa, worried about catching a chill, had moved the party from the meadow into the forest. It pulsed again, a subtle but insistent warning

“Sir William, I think—” Fttttttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhh, thump! A blur whizzed past her head. She turned to see the extra guard clutching at an arrow in his neck. A strangled cry rose from her throat.

“Christ on the cross,” growled Blackbourne. “Trystan, get your mistress.” Sword drawn, the knight put his back to Melissa and scanned the area. “Trystan!”

“I’m afraid he’s a bit tied up at the moment,” said a gravelly voice from behind. A man stood behind them with his hand over the boy’s mouth. He held a knife to the Trystan’s throat; a rope bound around his wrists.

Two more men in arms came from the shadows, one with a sword, and the other swinging a mace ball.

They attacked Blackbourne at the same time but the knight towered over both men.

With one mighty swipe, the first man went down with his head barely attached.

The second came at him, swinging the spiked globe with vigor.

William ducked, and came up with his blade stuck in the middle of the ruffian.

The man screamed, stumbled, and fell back.

His legs twitched as the knight pulled his sword from the man’s belly.

“Run, my lady. Run!” And she did until she heard a thunk! Melissa froze at the sound of a body falling to the ground. Before she could react, a hand went over her mouth and she was picked up off her feet. She struggled against her captor, biting, scratching, and kicking.

“God’s teeth, you little wench.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and snapped her head backward. His fetid breath made her gag as he breathed next to her cheek. “Do that again, and I’ll run a knife in the boy’s ribs.” He waved his blade in the direction of Trystan.

Melissa ceased her fight. She knew without a doubt that it was the Duke of Sunderland behind this. Fearing for Trystan and William, she went limp.

“Now that’s better, my pretty. Let’s get you home to your lord, shall we?” Her breath rushed from her lungs as a rope tightened around her middle.

Trystan was now tied to a tree with a cloth in his mouth, so he could not scream.

His eyes were full of apology and fear. She shook her head, trying to let him know this was not his fault.

As the horse began to move, she saw William.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as they passed by his lifeless body, the back of his head soaked in blood and a short blade stuck in his chest.