The Stolen Bride. Susan Spencer Paul

you. But I’ll not make a contest of what is already mine, as Mistress Sofia is.” He cast a threatening glance at Sofia that made her tremble. Kayne’s strong hand steadied her. “And I’d never lower myself to fight a knave such as you are. I was knighted by the hand of the king’s own regent, and have fought more battles than you could ever begin to dream upon, blacksmith.”

      Kayne smiled at this, though very grimly. Standing so close beside him, Sofia could feel his body tensing at Sir Griel’s words.

      “Mistress Sofia is her own,” he said in a low voice, “and no one else’s, until she decides otherwise. Take your sword and go in peace.” He held the weapon out to one of Sir Griel’s men, all of whom were now standing once more.

      “I will go,” Sir Griel said, “but I will return with my warrior. And then we shall see whether you will fight.”

      Kayne held his gaze. “If your man attacks me, even though I am unarmed, I will defend myself. If you should threaten harm to Mistress Sofia or any innocent person, I will stop you. And any man who will accost or bring harm to a woman, be she child, maid, mother or grandmother, him I will justly punish and not know a moment’s sorrow. These are promises I give you, my lord. You would do well to heed them.”

      Sir Griel’s expression was as hard as stone. “I heed no man save the king, and such insolence as you possess invites challenging. I begin to think my man is right. You are no common blacksmith.” He stepped closer. “Why do they call you Kayne the Unknown?”

      “That is for you to decide,” Kayne said. “I will bid you good day, my lord, and wish you a pleasant Midsummer Day.”

      “Wish it to me later—if you are still alive to do so.” With one last glare at Sofia, Sir Griel turned and strode away, his men fast on his heels.

      Slowly the crowd began to murmur, but once Sir Griel and his men had ridden away the murmuring turned into a loud chorus of voices, most of them filled with awe. Kayne turned to Sofia and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a single word he was surrounded by dozens of onlookers, slapping him on the shoulder and heartily congratulating him.

      Sofia watched with a measure of amusement as Kayne nodded and thanked his sudden admirers. He tried to maintain his usual stoic, somber manner in the wake of such much good cheer, but his cheeks were pinkened and he looked fully discomfited by so much attention.

      When the well-wishers moved away, he looked down at Sofia and asked, “Are you well?” He released the hand he’d yet been holding and gingerly touched her arm where Sir Griel had gripped it. “Sir Griel gave you no harm?”

      “Nay, I am fine,” she assured him, “though only because of your great bravery. I am in your debt again. Thank you.”

      His clear blue eyes regarded her steadily, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “You’re still shaking. Come and sit in the shade.” He lightly grasped her elbow and led her toward the river. As they walked, he looked about and said, somewhat grimly, “Your father disappeared almost as soon as Sir Griel and his men arrived.”

      “He’s not very brave,” Sofia admitted.

      “Nay, he is not,” Kayne agreed. “Not even for the sake of his own daughter—his only child.”

      Large oak trees grew along the riverbank, and their shade was much sought after by the feasters. But as Kayne and Sofia approached, all those near the river stood aside, making way for them with broad smiles and knowing winks. Kayne scowled and ignored them, choosing a private place to sit a bit farther from the water, beneath a tree where a small patch of grass made a more comfortable place to sit.

      Sofia gave a sigh of relief as she tucked the skirt of her surcoat about her legs. “It began as such a wonderful day,” she said. She looked up to where Kayne was standing, leaning against the tree with his arms folded across his chest. “You came,” she said, as if she’d only just realized it.

      “I came,” he replied, “and now that I am here, you will do as you said and make me your promise.”

      Sofia didn’t know what he meant at first, but finally she remembered. “You are good to have helped me today—and also before, but I cannot ask you to rescue me every time Sir Griel behaves in such a manner. I am already afraid that he will do what he can to kill you for what you have done this day alone.”

      “Sir Griel is a knave to be wary of, just as I told you,” he said, “but I am a careful man.”

      Sofia gave a slight shake of her head. “You have just told him that you will not fight, save to defend yourself and others. ’Tis a powerful advantage you’ve given him.”

      “Mayhap,” he said with a slight shrug. “But mayhap I have taken an advantage, as well.”

      “I do not understand you, Kayne the Unknown. I dislike sharing any belief with Sir Griel, but he spoke aright when he said that you are not a common man. And not a common soldier. You fight like no other I have seen.”

      “And you have seen many battles, then?” he asked, a smile tilting his lips.

      “Nay,” she said, frowning, “but I have attended tournaments in plenty. Not even the most seasoned knights had such skill as you showed this afternoon.”

      “Then they never served in France. Even common soldiers learn how to fight well—very well—when enough battle makes it necessary. If they do not, they die.”

      Two young women approached them, one carrying two tankards of ale and the other a basket brimming with choice bits of roasted meats, chunks of bread and cheese, and a variety of the many sweets being offered at the faire. They were gifts from many of the sellers, in gratitude for what Kayne had done in keeping Sir Griel from ruining the day.

      “Thank you,” Sofia said, accepting the basket and setting it on the ground. The young women blushed and smiled at Kayne as he held out his hands to receive the tankards. When he murmured his own thanks, they giggled behind their hands and then curtseyed and hurried away. Kayne gave a shake of his head, watching them depart, and Sofia laughed.

      “You will have every maid in Wirth in love with you,” she told him, “and every man jealous of you.”

      Kayne sat beside her, handing her one of the tankards. “I will pray it is not so. Women destroy a man’s peace more easily than swords and arrows. Especially women in love.”

      Sofia smiled to cover the pain the words wrought in her, and said, a little too merrily, “Are you hungry, Master Kayne?”

      “Aye. It is one of the reasons I came. To eat and dance and…and to make merry.” He sounded as if he were embarrassed by the words. Before she could reply he added, in a firmer tone, “You have not yet given me your promise, Sofia.”

      “Please, let us not speak of Sir Griel now,” she said, handing him a linen napkin filled with the choicest bits of meat. “Let us eat and dance and prepare our boats for making wishes.”

      He looked stubborn, as if he would press the matter, but Sofia touched his hand and murmured, “Please, Kayne. Only let us enjoy the day. I will give you my promise when ’tis done, I vow.”

      “Very well,” he agreed reluctantly, “I will wait. But only ’til dark falls. Then I will have your promise regarding Sir Griel.”

      “Aye,” Sofia agreed demurely, “you will have it then.”