She nodded vigorously. “I do,” she replied. “I gave it to you back during the time when Gryffyn was killed. And Gart…. do you remember Gart Forbes? He was very upset that I had given you a flower and had not meant one for him.”
George grinned as he pressed the flower into her open palm, watching her inspect it. “I remember Gart,” he said. “I have not seen him in years, though. He was in France fighting for de Lohr for a while but I have heard he is back in England. If he comes to visit you, I will have to kill him.”
Izlyn laughed softly. “Gart moved on from me long ago,” she said. Then, she sobered, holding up the flower. “But I am very glad you did not.”
George met her gaze, his eyes glimmering warmly at her. Then, he did what Keller told him he could not do. He took the flower from her, took her hand, and kissed it gently.
“Never,” he whispered. “Now, let us retreat inside before Keller has a tantrum. Your brother-in-law and I must discuss your dowry.”
Izlyn held his arm tightly as they disappeared into the cool innards of Nether’s keep, heading for the small hall where Keller was in the process of brooding. He and George spent two days negotiating Izlyn’s dowry which, in the end, had been quite generous of Keller and even included a plot of land from the Carnedd Barony to provide them with income. When all was said and done, the only matter left was the wedding itself, and on a warm August day in the year of our Lord twelve hundred and four, Lady Izlyn d’Einen because Lady Ashby-Kidd. Three out of Keller and Chrystobel’s five children cried through the entire ceremony, and the naughty twins had brought hollowed straw from the stable and tiny little pebbles, using them like blow guns and shooting the groom through most of the ceremony until their mother realized what they were doing and took them both outside to a sound spanking. Then, Keller and Chrystobel had five children who cried through the ceremony.
But it didn’t matter, for the mass was beautiful and the couple, very much in love. It couldn’t have been a more perfect day in spite of the commotion. The bride had violets woven into her hair while the groom wore the faded thistle his bride had given him so long ago pinned to the collar of his tunic. When it came time for the final vows, Izlyn had remembered something Keller had said to her once, something the girl had written to her sister on behalf of her new husband.
Somehow, the words had always stayed with her so when it came time to repeat their vows, Izlyn had added a line that meant as much to her as it had to her sister. Back in those days, those terrible dark days, they discovered that men by the name of Keller de Poyer, Gart Forbes, Rhys du Bois, William Wellesbourne, and George and Aimery Ashby-Kidd could heal what Gryffyn had damaged. Angels in the form of English knights had changed their lives forever.
I see the magic of a new beginning with you.
Now, it was Izlyn’s turn for a new beginning.
The End
Author’s Note
This novel, at times, dealt a lot with different languages – Welsh and English, mostly. Now, English is generalized in novels from the High Middle Ages so that the readers can relate to what’s being said, because around this time in history, England was transitioning from Old English to Middle English, which are complex languages and not at all like the English language you and I know. Example:
Old English from Beowulf: Hw?t! Wē Gār-Dena in geārdagum,
Translation: Lo, praise of the prowess of people-kings
See why authors such as myself don’t write in Old English, which would have been true to the period? Because you wouldn’t have a clue what we were saying – and neither would we! Therefore, we use colloquial English so you can understand what’s being said, but we try to keep the proper syntax of the period. Of course, the Norman’s spoke Anglo-Norman when they arrived and that was the preferred language at court until the 1400’s, but again, when I write of kings and queens, they speak English for the most part so the reader is at ease. England in the High Middle Ages was a true mix of French speakers and English speakers.
As for Wales, they have an extremely difficult language that they still speak today, and it is still taught in schools much like the Irish teach Celtic in their schools. I’ve written about Wales – a lot – and even I’m still confused by their language at times. As my husband calls it, the language with no vowels!
Thank you so much for reading. I truly hoped you enjoyed Keller and Chrystobel’s story. You can find all of my novels in eBook, in paperback, and in audiobook format. I also have several novels at all major eBook retailers.
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Bonus Material
Archangel
Kathryn Le Veque
Now, please enjoy a bonus chapter from ARCHANGEL, Gart Forbes’ novel. ARCHANGEL is available as an eBook, in paperback, or in audiobook format.
Chapter One
Year of Our Lord 1204 A.D.
The Month of May
Dunster Castle, Somerset
He was seeing ghosts.
It was true that he was weary after having spent the last seven days traveling from Kent to the shadowed edges of the Exmoor Forest. It was also true that the wilds of Somerset and Cornwall were said to breed wraiths and other netherworld creatures, and Dunster was right in the middle of dark and mysterious lands. But being a man of logic, Sir Gart Forbes wasn’t one to believe in ghosts or phantoms or fairies. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what he had seen.
He was standing in the darkened bailey of Dunster just after sunset. The castle was perched on the top of a hill, fortified and old even in Saxon times, and the battlements were lined with men standing guard, sentries with big dogs and big torches to keep away the night. Gazing up the wooden steps that led into the second floor of the enormous square keep, Gart swore he saw something at the top of the stairs that had just as quickly vanished.
All around him were sounds of the bailey as the men settled in for the night. He had brought one hundred men with him from Denstroude Castle in Kent, seat of Baron Thornden, Sir David de Lohr. Lord de Lohr was in the keep up in the third floor great hall and these wraiths, these wispy creatures, were between Gart and his liege. With a weary sigh, knowing he must have lost his mind somewhere back on the dusty road, Gart slowly mounted the steps.
The stairs were dark and old. Gart’s enormous boots tested the weight of each plank as he made his way up and could hear the wood groan. Normally, he would have been focused on the meal awaiting him but at this moment, he had to admit he was curious to see if the wraiths would make another appearance.
He didn’t have long to wait. The moment he stepped inside the great Norman arch that embraced the entry, something small and white jumped into his path.