It broke Lily’s heart that she could not take everything.
“’Tis hemlock. When mixed with henbane ‘tis applied to aching joints.”
He smiled at her. “Is this yer passion?”
“Aye.” She felt her mouth smiling, wider. She couldn’t stop it. “Though the pestilence is terrifying, I love what we were doing—mixing, testing this herb with that.”
“Ye will continue such work in the stronghold. More, everything ye and Richard need will be provided.”
She wanted to ask him how when it was difficult enough in Sevenoaks to get herbs from faraway places. Invergarry was far north. But she didn’t want to sound or feel hopeless. This likely was the last night she would spend under the cover of a roof. She wanted to enjoy it, with him and with her herbs.
“Why are you called Lion Heart?” she asked, turning the conversation to him. Elias was quickly becoming her other passion. “What have you done to earn such a name?”
He laughed softly and returned the mortar to her. The leaves inside were mashed perfectly. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I have a habit of fightin’ the ones everyone else is afraid to fight.”
She raised an eyebrow at him and pulled a stool closer so she could sit, forgetting her shaking hands, her coriander, and everything else. “Oh?” she asked, resting her elbow on the table and putting her chin in her hand. “Tell me who everyone was afraid to fight.”
“Hmm, let me see.” Light and shadows from his lashes made his eyes dance as he thought about it. “There was King Edward’s second in command, Edgar Erickson. He fought the Scots in a different part of France than I. He killed many. Most were afraid of him, nicknamedSkull Smasher,he stood almost seven feet tall, with shoulders as wide as the length of a claymore. I was told he was of Vikin’ heritage. He had a nasty habit of huntin’ oot Scots and smashin’ in their skulls with his mace.
“Finally, I was sent into battle at Crécy, where Dunbar John, a friend of mine, had recently been killed by Erickson. I knew he had to die and I wanted to be the one to do it, whether we won the battle or lost.
“I fought him on the field. Both of us were bloody and weary—him, more than me because of his size, which became his disadvantage. I knew where I had to strike him. I had to bring him down as quickly as possible. I blocked his terrible blows a few times and then ducked and ran around him. Quickly, I swiped my blade across the backs of his ankles and then simply waited fer him to go down. When he did, I cracked open his skull with my axe and then retreated with my men.”
She stared at him for a moment, shocked by his words and the merciless way he spoke them. He was no innocent beauty. He was deadly, clever, and brave, she spoke out loud and then blinked.
He gave her a crooked smile and shrugged again.
“Who else?”
“A bear.”
“You fought a bear?” she asked with skepticism tainting her brow.
“I had no choice,” he defended. “It took a swipe at Simon that would have taken Simon’s head clean off. We were all in danger.”
“No!” She held up her hands to stop him from speaking. “Do not tell me how you did it. I believe you.”
She got up to bring them two cups then sat back down and reached under the table to produce a small jug of ale.
“How did you become so courageous?” she asked him, pulling on the cork and pouring the liquid.
“I dinna know. Simon tells me I was afraid of my own father when I was a babe.”
“Why would you be afraid of your own father?” she asked.
“He was verra hairy.”
They laughed then spoke a little more about Elias’ father.
“He was orphaned and sold as a slave from the age of two,” Elias told her.
She loved the deep pitch of his voice, the musical inflections. She wanted to listen to it for the rest of her life.
“He fell in love with his lord’s daughter, my stepmother. He was nineteen when he finally kissed her and was beaten and tossed out of the city gates of Berwick a few hours before the Scots besieged the castle and massacred everyone. My stepmother also escaped and was brought to safety by my uncle.”
Lily had to remember to close her mouth. “How did she become your stepmother? Did she love your father? But he was a servant!” she gasped when Elias nodded.
“They had grown up in the same house, one in the privileged quarters and one in the servants’ quarters. After the conquest of Berwick, they became separated.”