Remington had promised him before Gaston had ever arrived and she went to seek his permission.
The inner and outer baileys were absolutely abuzz with activity. She picked her way through the obstacles, weaving a path toward the main hovel of business, the nearly completed troop house. More than the previous days, she was acutely aware of the soldiers’ stares upon her and she was nervous. Gaston’s soldiers were probably the heartiest, earthiest troops in all of England. Men used to the harsh realities of life and the bitterness it had to offer. She was scared to even look them in the eye.
She rounded the wall and proceeded into the outer bailey. The closer she drew, the busier it became and she paused, trying to discern the best possible path. She could see a few knights here and there and quickly decided to ask them where she could find Gaston.
She was nervous to see him after what had transpired last night. He had left so abruptly that she did not know what to think. Was he as confused as she was? Did he, upon reflection, decide that kissing her had been a colossal mistake? Her stomach was twitching so that she had not been able to break her fast when she rose.
Remington gathered her skirts higher as she dodged a pile of stone in the middle of her path. Coming to the dusty bailey dressed in a rose-colored silk was not the wisest choice, for the hem of her surcoat was already coated with a thin film of dirt and she tried to shake it off as she walked.
Suddenly a strong hand was biting into her upper arm and she flinched, instinctively trying to pull away.
“Yer a pretty little goat,” an older, filthy soldier leered. “What’s yer name, lass?”
Angry, she tried to yank free. “Let go of me, you brute.”
His grip tightened. “That’s not very friendly. I just asked ye yer name.”
Other soldiers had started to gather, grinning lewdly and Remington was on the verge of panic. These were not the well-trained knights that graced her grand hall every eve; these were the lowers, men with no manners and even less intelligence.
“You do not need to know my name,” she succeeded in tearing her arm away from him, but his dirty hand left an imprint on her fine silk and she clucked at it miserably. “Get away from me, all of you.Get.”
She scrambled back from the soldier as he made another swipe at her, much to the amusement of his comrades. But he lether go on and she practically ran until she found one of Gaston’s knights.
The knight was an older man, completely bald, but with an intelligent face. He knew her on sight.
“Greetings this day, Lady Stoneley,” he said. “How may I serve you?”
“Sir Gaston,” she asked, panting from fright and exertion. “Where is he?”
“In the troop house, I believe,” the knight strained his eyes to the structure. “Aye, I believe I see him. Shall I fetch him for you?”
“Nay,” Remington did not want to be left waiting, alone. “Take me to him, please.”
Without hesitation, the knight took her elbow courteously and led her to the edges of the troop house. Masoners and soldiers were covered with dust from the stone, moving busily as they neared completion of the walls. The knight let her go a moment to seek out Arik.
She could see Arik whirl around when the knight whispered in his ear. His face rippled with concern and he sent a man in search of Gaston. As it was, he and the other knight returned hastily to her side.
“Good morn to you, Lady Remington,” Arik said pleasantly.
“And to you, Sir Arik,” she smiled at him. “I must thank you for the sword you gave Dane. He is tremendously proud of it; he even slept with it last night.”
He returned her smile. “I am pleased, then,” he replied. “He will prove to be a bright, eager pupil.”
Her smile faded a bit. “I suppose. But is it necessary to teach boys to be men at such a young age? I wonder at the intelligence of such a concept.”
“’Tis best to start them young, before they grow older and less impressionable,” he assured her. “Have no fear, my lady. I will take good care of your son.”
She blinked and her brow furrowed slightly. “You? What do mean? Are you leaving, too?”
“Leaving? Hell no. I mean, no,” he quickly corrected himself. “I shall be here, training Henry’s troops and a passel of young knaves like your son.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Dane is staying here to train?”
Arik smiled and crossed his arms. “Aye, he is. Word came down from the master this morn. Young Dane starts his training come August.”
Remington was surprised; more than surprised–pleasantlysurprised. Thank God Gaston had taken mercy on her and had decided not to send her son away. Relief and gratitude filled her; she must remember to thank him most properly for his compassionate decision.
Gaston suddenly appeared at her side, his entire body covered in a fine white powder. She giggled at the sight of him.
