An Uncertain Choice

I wanted to tell him to hold his pride in check, that I wasn’t enamored with him the way I was with the other two. But since saying so would have been presumptuous of me, I determined to show him that I didn’t long for him, that it didn’t matter to me whether or not he made any effort to win me as Sir Collin and Sir Bennet were doing.

During the leisurely mealtime, I allowed Sir Collin and Sir Bennet to monopolize me and entertain me with their lively banter. I entered into their jesting, all the while trying to pretend I didn’t notice Sir Derrick reclining lazily and not minding in the least that he wasn’t the bearer of my attentions.

But in reality, the more standoffish he remained, the more annoyed I began to feel and the more I wanted to show him I didn’t care. I knew it was irrational to be insecure about one knight’s inattention, but I didn’t have the power to stop it.

As the noon hour passed, Sir Derrick soon excused himself with some of the leftovers and headed toward the hunting dogs lying in the shade of the nearby glen. Sir Bennet also took his leave at the beckoning of the duke. The knight’s parting glance to Sir Collin was dark and filled with warning. I wasn’t sure what his warning was, but I sensed a growing rivalry that caused me to fidget in unease.

Sir Collin smiled more cheerfully at his friend’s departure, juggling several grapes like a court jester. “You didn’t know I had such talent, did you, my lady?” he asked, letting the grapes fall into his lap save for one he caught between his teeth.

“You are indeed a man of many talents,” I replied. I felt suddenly weary, ready to lie back upon the blanket and close my eyes in slumber. The troubled sleeplessness of the past few nights was beginning to assail me.

He chewed the grape but then paused in his eating. “I see my antics are only putting you to sleep.”

“’Tis not you, sir. You’ve brought smiles and laughter back into my life after too many years without. And I thank you for it.”

“But . . .” He paused, his green eyes gently probing me.

Had he heard about my nightmares? Had he heard my screams in the night?

The abbot and Thomas had been with me that day four years ago when I’d unknowingly ridden upon the gruesome sight on the outskirts of town. I’d known that the Plague must be contained, that we needed to punish anyone who broke from the quarantined areas. We couldn’t risk it spreading any further than it already had.

But I hadn’t expected the sheriff to exact such swift and severe punishment upon the two men who’d disobeyed. In fact, I’d become violently ill at the sight of their tormented bodies displayed outside the walls of town for all the land to see.

Since that day I’d outlawed the use of torture devices. Even if I’d been able to eradicate torture from my land, I had been unable to erase the memories from my mind. The visions still haunted me. And seeing the criminals in the boiling pot of water and stretched on the rack had unleashed the memories again . . .

“I haven’t slept well the past week,” I finally admitted softly to Sir Collin, who still awaited my answer.

“I’m sorry.” He studied me, his expression serious, as if he sensed the depth of my turmoil.

Even if torture was an accepted method of punishment throughout the realm, I was convinced that there were kinder, more humane ways to dispense discipline when it was needed. I could only pray that the sheriff wouldn’t disobey me again in such matters, although I had the sinking feeling that the battle had only just begun.

Sir Collin broke into a grin. “I have the perfect solution to not sleeping well.”

I waited expectantly for him to share his deep and profound secret. He plucked another grape, tossed it in the air, and then caught it in his mouth with a widening grin. “You simply need to stay awake, and we shall dance and sing all the night through.”

I tried to muster a smile at his jest, but at that moment I wanted more than playful antics. Maybe there were no easy solutions. But at the very least, I needed someone to listen and understand how I felt.

Before I could continue, something suddenly flew by in my side vision. A sharp whistling noise rent the air, followed by a thud and a pained cry from Sir Collin. I turned to find him fallen onto his back against the blanket with an arrow sticking from his shoulder.

Sir Collin’s face first rounded with surprise and then crumpled with agony.

The sight was so unexpected and disturbing, I couldn’t contain the scream that slipped from my lips. An arrowhead had embedded into his body — ?altogether too close to his heart. Blood had already started to flow out of the puncture and seep into his fine linen shirt, staining the area around the shaft a deep crimson.

Sir Collin gasped as if breathing his last breath and grabbed at the shaft.

The spot of blood on his shirt widened, and I cried out. “Help! Please help! Sir Collin has been shot!”