Free If My Heart Could See You by Sherry Ewing Page B

sister. At least in this way, her woman’s heart would be safe from the hurt and sorrow that surely plagued Sabina, for ’twas clear, Lord Dristan had no use for her sister other than the running of the keep.
    The knight of her recent musings clamped a strong hand down upon her armor, causing the metal to dig into her shoulder. ’Twas perchance in her favor Dristan could not see her grimace of pain else he sentence her to additional hours in the lists for her unmanly show of soreness. Feeling another slight nudge in the direction of the two captains, who now took their ease, she faltered briefly and was able to regain her feet afore she shamed herself by falling into the dirt.
    Her moment of rest at an end, she heard Dristan give out the call for Ian to take up sword against her. She hid her heavy sigh and took up her stance, praying she would not humiliate herself by falling on her exhausted sorry arse.

    Dristan made a motion with his hand and Riorden joined him against the wall to observe the pair, who now raised their swords to begin the lesson. To his mind, there was no improvement to the boy’s strokes than afore his brief rest.
    “I am not pleased with the lad’s progress,” Dristan remarked gruffly after they observed the two for a time. “What think you, Riorden?”
    Riorden clasped his hands behind his back whilst Dristan folded his arms upon his chest. “Look there . . . did you see it?” he questioned his lord. “Ian does the boy no favor by holding back. ’Tis not obviously done, but ’tis done all the same. In time of war, ’twill see the boy killed by a greater swordsman.”
    “Aye! I have noticed it, as well. Having just finished watching the two of you hack away at each other, ’tis plane to see Ian does not put in the same effort with the boy.”
    “You’d best stop them now, my lord, afore the lad is injured. He’s just about spent I think.”
    Dristan nodded in agreement, much to his disappointment in the young man’s showing. Although for the most part he did well with his sword, he did not feel that Aiden would ever become a master with his weapon.
    “Aiden,” he yelled across the lists, “’tis enough for the day! Come, men . . . let us sup!”
    A cheer arose from the guardsmen, who sheathed their swords and slapped one another upon their backs in comrade-ship. All were ready for a respite from the drilling required of them, and the men made quite a stir as they made their way off the list and headed towards the Great Hall. A good day’s training deserved a good evening’s meal with a draught or two of strong ale to quench their thirst. All were ready to indulge in a fine meal. ’Twas something to at last look forward to ’til their misery began again with the dawning of the new day.

 
    Ten
    The Great Hall was swarming to capacity with men and their overly loud conversations as the evening meal was brought into the room. Serfs scurried to bring heavily laden trenchers of steaming roasted boar, fowl, and venison to the tables. The platters were barely set down afore greedy hands began to tear at the meat as the knights filled their hungry bellies.
    Serving maids made their way amongst several of the tables, pouring ale or mead into tankards waved in their direction to be filled. The lusty laughter of the whores who had accompanied the conquering army also filled the air, as they showed their wares with low bodices and a promise in their eyes if a man had but the coin to make it worth their while. ’Twas apparent some of the guards were in the mood to partake of what the wenches had to offer and their rowdy banter echoed off the walls of the hall.
    ’Twas into this mayhem that Amiria finally entered, dragging her feet as she made her way through the now repaired portal of the keep. Confusion seemed to reign as she looked about the crowded room with more people than usually filled its walls. She had become used to seeing the unfamiliar men from Dristan’s army outside in the