The truth of it was that she loved that he could fight so well. She loved that though he could be a merciless savage, he was also kind and thoughtful once a person got to know him. She’d seen how he’d treated Jonathan at Walter’s.
“You did well raising him, Elia,” Kes told her friend. “He’s a good man.”
“Aye,” Elia smiled. Her cheeks were pink, adding more color to her eyes. “But Edward was a good father to him. He is the reason Nicholas chose to be a knight, besides his other titles. He is an extraordinary man, and you, my dearest, are an extraordinary woman. You are meant to be together.”
“He is extraordinary. You’re right about that. Did you see him break free of all those men? It was like watching Samson. He fought with emotion and steadfast determination. I almost loved watching him.” She smiled and Elia nodded.
“Meant to be.”
“You say your father was…is like him. You had a finger pointing your way. You are fortunate.”
“I didn’t feel fortunate. I felt cursed. Cursed to know there was at least one good man out there and he was my father. I had this great role model to show me what I wanted and there weren’t many more men like him by the time the twentieth-first century rolled around.”
“What made him different?” Elia asked.
“I don’t know,” Kes told her honestly. “But Mr. Green—hmph Sir Gawaine of the Round Table read my lineage back only on my father’s side before he gave me the brooch. After my mother died, my father threw himself into his work. I didn’t see him all that much. But I heard him crying some nights for my mother. He loved her. I thought that was how all men loved the women they were with. I was wrong. I was beat over the head with the truth until I lost hope of ever finding a really good man.”
The door opened and Nicholas stepped inside. When he saw her, he smiled as if she were the only thing he ever wanted to see again.
“Are you well?” he asked tenderly, coming around to her chair.
“Yes. I wasn’t hurt, just frightened. I needed some quiet time. Is everything under control outside these doors?”
“Aye. I spoke to the king.”
“And?”
“And if I refuse to fight for him at Bosworth Field, he will not show up. Meaning he will not die there.” They both said the last together.
History would be changed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
They reached campoutside of Leicester early in the morning. It had taken a sennight to get here since leaving Scarborough. Nicholas missed Kestrel and hated having to be here to fight for a man who had tried to have his wife burned for being a witch. Richard had listened to lies because her last name was Lancaster. He’d shown no mercy to Nicholas’ wife and, for that, Nicholas would show him none.
But he had to pretend that he would. He trained with his men, as he did now, and sometimes ate and drank with them when they were home, while Kestrel spent time with Elia and her other dozens of friends, none of whom were stately, though she had gotten along well with Elizabeth. He wondered if she missed him.
He leaped to the right and avoided Charlie’s bladeandWilliam’s sword coming from the other side. William was Charlie’s best friend and second in command—and sneaky.
Good. Nicholas liked it. He swung his sword and the force of his blade striking William’s sent the soldier’s blade flying.
Kestrel had told Nicholas about her friends in the future, Lilith, Kim, Constantine, and Jack. Nicholas wasn’t happy that she had lived with two men, but it was over five hundred years from now. The world had changed. There were airplanes and HDTVs, and virtual reality gadgets, video games, and so much more that he couldn’t wrap his head around it all. He would never have believed what she told him of her time if he didn’t know her.
But he did know her. In less than a month, he’d been through more with her than with anyone else in his life. He knew how she reacted to things, what made her laugh and smile, and what annoyed her.
Charlie’s sword came at him but there had been too much hesitation. Nicholas swung left then right, and then ending the session with an upper cut swing that sent Charlie’s blade end over end into the dirt.
“That was very good,” Nicholas told them.
“Good?” Charlie asked with an incredulous laugh. “In all six sessions, we didn’t last longer than a few breaths against you.”
“A few breaths is better than what the king’s guard had in my great hall a few days ago,” Nicholas quipped, sheathing his sword. “You both fought well, and you will not be fighting me, so I have no doubt you will both come out alive in whatever battle you fight.”
They all laughed together, knowing he was correct. If they could last a few breaths with him, they could win the battle.
“You will remember to stay near me tomorrow,” he told them. “All will be well.”
He didn’t tell them about pulling them out of the battle. He trusted Charlie but he didn’t know the rest enough to trust that word wouldn’t get back to the king. This had to be perfect.