Page 24 of A Knight in Tarnished Armor

"What the hell did you do that for?" he roared and swiped at the mud.

She gave him a honeyed smile and threw another handful. Now she was laughing, laughing hard and flinging mud at him so quickly he would never have thought she could move that fast.

"Here!" she shouted. "Catch!" She hit him square in the forehead.

He sprang from the hillside and tackled her. They rolled together in the mud, Linnet shrieking while he tried to rub more mud in her face.

A few minutes later they both lay on their backs in the mud, a truce called. She was still laughing. "You didn't play fair, William. You're stronger than I." She slapped a muddy hand on her chest and gave him a wide-eyed stare. "I am a puny and weak woman."

He snorted. "Puny and weak. Ha! We could have used you at the siege of Acre, Linnet. I would have put you in charge of the catapult."

She smiled. "That is the first time you have ever called me by my name."

He hadn't realized he'd done so.

She reached over and touched him on the shoulder. "I prefer Linnet to sow."

He grinned, then stood and eyed the hillside. A second later he swept her into his arms and carried he through the ravine, heading for a place where the hill side wasn't so steep.

"William! Put me down!"

"Stop squirming and let me carry your 'puny' self."

He tossed her and grinned when she shrieked. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

And he liked it so much that he carried her all the way up the hill...the long way.

He had never laughed with a woman like he had with Linnet. ‘Twas a strange feeling to call a woman friend. But that was how he felt about her. Aside from her beauty, aside from her charm and the odd hold she seemed to have over him, aside from the passion she could spark in him with only a touch or a look, William actually liked her. He liked being with her.

They spent the next few nights staying in inns, each in their own room, a place where Linnet could have the comforts he should have thought of to begin with, baths, clean beds, warm food.

And he was loathe to admit it but he had missed her at night. He missed sleeping next to her, missed her piling enough covers atop her to thaw Hinterland, missed her punching the pillows and tossing and turning until he had to talk with her if he ever wanted to get a wink of sleep. He missed her incessant chatter about the night sky and stars and the shapes they form. He missed waking and watching her sleep.

He didn't miss the cats. That was his one peaceful thought. Some of the animals were with her, some were boarded at the inn's stables.

They were two days ride from the abbey when he heard of the fair. 'Twas midsummer's eve and the town of Noddington was having a fair—a grand event if all they had heard was true.

He had one day and one night left to win her.

So he took her to the Midsummer's Fair.

9

Noddington was a busy little town of stone, brick, and timber, with shops and inns that lined the small cobbled streets. Houses cuddled in close lanes with jutting roofs and bayed windows. Because of the fair the town was teeming. And Linnet could hardly take it all in.

They crossed the stone bridge to a meadow where the winding river was fringed with trees and where the fair was bustling.

Each booth, decorated gaily with batting of bright colors, sold something new and different—lengths of raye, a fabric that fairly took on the sheen of the stars, an odd- looking mechanical clock that wouldn't freeze in winter like the water clocks did, and powerful crossbows, weapons of such deadly accuracy that they had been forbidden by Rome until recently.

There was hot spiced wine, fresh bread, and meat pies. Country vegetables and sweet Eastern dates. And William bought her one of everything scrumptious. There were lively dancers and minstrels who sang songs of the magic of midsummer's eve. Puppeteers and actors became fairies and sprites, forest animals that took on human form, all to celebrate this special time of year—a time when flowers bloomed and hearts were light.

Linnet and William watched the acrobats tumble and trained dogs frolic. There was even a huge gray and wrinkled elephant that roared like a trumpet and spit water high in the air.

William bought her lengths of fine cloth, two of the raye, and a silver comb, to keep the sunset in her hair, he had told her. He filled her with comfits and sweetmeats until she thought she might burst. He showed her every sight and every new thing with patience and laughter and care. Many was the time she caught him watching her closely, as if her happiness were the most important thing to him. But it was his smile and laughter that were the true gifts of the day.

'Twas one of the best times of her life, and she knew she would never think of midsummer's eve without remembering William. As she strolled through the fair, she wished, somehow, to repay him. She knew his pride would accept nothing from her, nothing valuable. She had been trying to find a gift for him when she spied a man with pilgrim badges sewn to his hat and coat. He was hawking pardons from Rome which he carried in a sack on his bent back.

"William?" She tugged on his shirtsleeve.