“Elias invites you to meet him for some games.”
They looked relieved and more grateful than if she’d just given them a sennight’s worth of cookies. They happily agreed to tell the other children and ran off hollering and making quite a fuss—drowning out the sound of crying.
#
The sun began its slow descent, leaving the world in an odd orange-crimson glow. No one wanted to go indoors yet to eat, for they had unpacked their food and prepared another feast in Osbert the reeve’s dining hall.
Some sat on blankets in the cool grass watching and cheering the children while they played foot ball with lemons. Elias had taught them how to play after he taught them and Lily more defensive maneuvers with his dagger. Eventually, some of the parents joined in.
Everyone was there. Even Richard had kicked a lemon around the markers before he took a seat in a cushioned chair—one of three Elias had carried out of Osbert’s house and placed in the grass for the elders to sit.
Elias had kept his word.
They cheered when young Annabelle kicked one lemon through Simon’s legs and hit a marker. They laughed when little Eddie, who seemed to always miss hitting the lemon when he kicked his short legs at it, finally dropped on all fours, stole the lemon, and ran off with it.
Not everyone participated in the merriment, but they all showed up.
Lily was thankful. She looked over at Elias laughing with the children. How did he do it? How did he manage to remain so strong? Strong enough for them all?
The lemon came her way and she shoved it forward with her foot, gently enough not to hurt any of the children running at her. She looked for a clearing and pushed the lemon to her left. She kicked, but the fruit was intercepted by Norman’s daughters, Ava and Emma. The rest of the children reached her and she laughed in the midst of them. She felt better than she had since she was a child. She enjoyed kicking lemons around in the grass and being chased by laughing children.
“You have turned a horrific day into something less horrific,” she told Elias on the way back to Osbert’s house for supper. Richard walked ahead with Osbert and Father Benedict.
He bowed in his place, leaving her to stare at the soft waves in his dark hair. “I’m pleased ye think so, my lady.”
“Elias.” six-year-old Annabelle tugged on his cloak and looked up at him from over her mask, her huge blue eyes shining in the torchlight. “Tomorrow, want to play with my toys?” She was out of breath from running to catch up with him. Her mask sucked in and out. “I have clay poppets and wooden horses, and I have teacups and a kettle. I could make you some tea!”
Lily watched Elias, already bent to the girl. “I would like that verra much, Annabelle.”
The little girl giggled and then ran off to her mother.
“How are you so good at this?” Lily asked, marveling at him. No one was crying and everyone was hungry.
“I have a huge family,” he explained. “I have two brothers, two sisters, and nine cousins. My brother, Colin, has four bairns. Elysande, my cousin, has six with her husband, Raphael. Her brother, Milo, has five and Robin has five, as well.”
“My, that is large!” Her eyes crinkled when she laughed under her mask. “And do you all play?”
“We used to.”
“You miss them,” she said, knowing he must. “We were so close to going back. I’m sorry you came here.”
His warm gaze skipped back to hers. “I’m not sorry.”
“Elias,” she said stopping. She grabbed hold of his arm to stop him, too. “You could have gone. You could have left yesterday and escaped this. I do not want to think that you gave up your life for me. I do not want to live knowing that.” Tears misted her eyes. “Not even for a few days.”
He breathed out a gust of breath beneath the cloth tied around his face. “I didna want ye to fall ill, Lily. The thought of it crushes me. All I could think aboot was keepin’ ye and Simon and Richard safe. Then, when ye refused to leave, ye forced me to realize why ye wouldna go. So, first, please accept my sincerest apologies fer askin’ such a selfish thing from ye. And also, forgive me fer bein’ so selfish. I had a lapse in good judgment due to…fear.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he kept silent for a moment. Then he said with a shrug, “Normally, I dinna run from anythin’.”
She crooked her mouth at him, but he couldn’t see. “I can see how some would call you reckless.”
She wished they didn’t have to wear these masks! She liked looking at his mouth while he spoke. If they were all affected, wasn’t it too late for masks anyway?
“It all depends on what you believe is reckless.”
Now she felt wretched for giving him the impression that she thought risking your life for others was reckless—in the foolish sense. She didn’t. She found it noble and admirable. Should she tell him? Would it seem as if she were trying to woo him into something?
The silver shards in his eyes twinkled in the firelight when he smiled at her. “If I hadna stayed, then I wouldna be here today.”
He made it sound so simple, as if it should all make perfect sense now.