He kissed her hand as it moved near his mouth. But it was not good enough for him so he pulled her down to him, sweetly kissing her lips.
“With all of the love I have in my heart for you, I did not think it possible that I could feel more, but I do,” he conceded, suckling her lower lip gently. “You are a remarkable and gracious woman, Lady Pembury, and I am deeply proud to be your husband.”
She smiled faintly, her hands on his face. “Kenneth said that if I ever grow weary of you, then he will gladly take your place.”
Stephen’s eyebrows flew up. “Is that so?” he grumbled, watching her giggle. He tried to throw the covers off but his ribs made it difficult to move quickly. “Where is he? I will thrash him soundly.”
She laughed at him, pushing him back on the bed. “Not to worry, husband,” she straddled him, pinning his arms. “I will never grow weary of you, I swear it. Kenneth will have to find another wife.”
He gazed up at her, a smile on his lips, once again reflecting on how more rich his life was. He was happier, more content, than he had ever been. The journey to get to this point had been well worth every twist and every turn. His hands came up, even the bandaged one, and cupped her face gently.
“I love you, Lady Pembury,” he pulled her down to his seeking lips. “With all that I am, I love you.”
Joselyn couldn’t even answer him. Her touch said everything he needed to know.
EPILOGUE
December 1337 A.D.
Bayhall Castle, Pembury, England
Stephen was a man with his hands full. With all of the battles in all of England that he had fought, there was no battle more harrowing than the one he had on his hands at the moment.
It all started when he had turned his back on his toddlers for a moment to relay the command to open the great iron portcullis of his ancestral home, Bayhall. It was now his seat as Baron Pembury, hereditary home of the Culpepper family, Stephen’s family name. His attention could not have been diverted more than a few seconds, something he would be swearing to his wife at some point, but in that time his children ran amuck. When he turned around, both babies had found a section of melted snow that had made muddy soup and had gleefully stepped into it.
Stephen tried to move swiftly to pick the children up before they muddied their clean clothes, but he was not fast enough. His three and a half year old son, Remington, was the leader of the Pembury rebels. He had his father’s size, the Pembury cornflower blue eyes, and a natural air of command even at his tiny age. Rem was the first one into mischief and had little sense of making the wrong decision. If he wanted to do it, it must therefore be right. Stephen already had his hands full with him, adoring his son more than words could express.
Following right behind him was his younger sister by thirteen months, the Lady Ashton. A splendidly gorgeous child in the spitting image of her mother, she was, Stephen was sure, the sweetest thing to have ever walked the earth. She was also a very vocal child, much more than her older brother, and spoke in complete sentences with intelligence beyond her years. Stephen was positive he could not have been more in love with her than he already was. Almost more than anyone else, his world revolved around lovely little Ashton and her pale blue eyes.
But she was also a troublemaker like her brother and stomped around in the muddy water even as Stephen swooped down to pick her up. Rem was not thrilled with being pulled out of the mud and screamed like a holy terror as Stephen hauled him and his sister away. With one screaming toddler under each arm, Stephen moved quickly to the keep of Bayhall, hoping to get them inside and cleaned up before their mother discovered that he had let them become filthy just as Christmas guests were arriving.
Yet it was not to be. Mother had heard the screaming and was coming to see what the trouble was. Joselyn met him at the door to the keep, a six month old infant in her arms and her pale blue eyes blazing. She rolled her eyes when she saw the mess on the toddlers.
“Good Heavens,” she exclaimed. “Stephen, I told you to keep them out of trouble. What happened?”
Stephen sighed with resignation, setting Rem to his feet because he was kicking so much. “I turned my back on them for a moment,” he explained lamely. “I have no other excuse.”
Outside, they could hear the commotion as the portcullis lifted and the incoming party began to enter the bailey of Bayhall. The sounds of equipment, animals and the voices of people filled the snowy air. Joselyn peered from the entry door, noting the crimson colors of the Earl of Carlisle. She turned to Stephen with a look to kill.
“They have arrived,” she hissed, handing him the baby and taking Ashton from his arms. “Welcome our guests while I clean up your mess.”
Stephen took the baby, who gazed up at his father with enormous pale blue eyes. Stephen kissed the dark head of Sebastian, moving to help his wife with Rem when the boy refused to cooperate. Joselyn struggled to haul the fighting three year-old to the stairs until she finally came to a halt and knelt down in front of him.
“Rem,” she said with gentle firmness. “Your friends are coming to see you. We must change your clothes so that you can play with them and give them your gifts. Don’t you want to give them your gifts?”
Rem was such a handsome young lad with his dark hair and bright blue eyes. He frowned at his mother but had, at least, stop kicking for the moment. “Is Cade here?” he asked.
Joselyn nodded patiently. “He is coming with the Earl. You want to see your brother, don’t you? Then we must hurry and change our clothes.”
Rem began to scramble up the stairs. Joselyn watched him clamor up the stone, puffing out her cheeks and exhaling sharply as she turned to her husband. She indicated the baby in his arms. “Can you at least manage to keep Sebastian clean while I take care of these two?”
He smiled, moving to kiss her sweetly. “I will endeavor to do my best,” he kissed her again. “You had better hurry before Rem tears his room apart looking for clean clothes.”
“He will tear his room apart in any case. He is such a terror that I am fearful of what will happen when he grows older.”
Stephen wriggled his eyebrows. “I am still bigger than he is. Hopefully I shall be able to hold my own as he grows older.”
Joselyn shook her head and grinned, holding her daughter by the hand as she carefully helped the child up the steps. Stephen watched them go before wrapping the swaddling tightly around the baby and taking him out into the cold winter weather.
The bailey was full of horses, men, and three heavily packed wagons. A large carriage was off to the left and Stephen’s eyes fixed on it as he descended the stairs from the keep. A smattering of clouds was depositing a dusting of snow crystals into the air, sticking on the ice-cold stone structures. As Stephen walked around one of the big wagons, a shout caught his attention. He turned in time to see Toby heading towards him with several children in tow.
She was wrapped in a heavy fur cloak, smiling from ear to ear. She had three children following her; young Arabella was seven years, holding the youngest child, two year-old Sophie, on her hip while four year-old Dane was lured by the snowy mud puddles like Rem and Ashton had been. Toby grabbed the boy before he could get into trouble. She opened her arms, giving Stephen a warm hug as she focused on the baby in his arms.
“’Tis so good to see you,” she told him although she was looking at the infant. “And this must be Sebastian. Stephen, he’s beautiful.”
Stephen smiled proudly, barely having time to say a word before she was pulling the baby out of his arms. She cradled the infant, rocking him gently and cooing soft baby talk to him. Sebastian rewarded her with a smile and Toby crowed with delight.
“He is wonderful,” she declared, smiling up at Stephen. “I believe I will take him home with me.”
Stephen lifted an eyebrow. “You will have to take that up with my wife. I am not entirely sure she would be willing to give him up.” He watched Toby laugh softly. “Besides, you have your own brood.”
He put an eno
rmous hand on Dane’s head as the boy came close, mussing the dark hair. Toby cast an affectionate eye over her youngest three children. “Roman, Dylan and Alex are on their way here from Kenilworth,” she said. “I have not seen them since the summer. I miss them terribly.”
Stephen snorted. “I have heard that they have single-handedly taken over the castle,” he laughed. “The earl fears your sons. He says he is going to turn them loose on the Welsh.”
Toby lifted an eyebrow. “Beware, Pembury. They will be here in a few days. Be careful that they do not take your castle out from under you.”
“At least your husband will be here to help me fend them off,” he said, looking around. “Speaking of your husband, where is he? And where is Cade?”
Toby lifted her eyebrows. “They both went to go fetch Cate from Windsor,” she replied. “She is eight years old and already entrenched in the court. Tate misses her so much that he went to retrieve her himself, and you know that Cade is quite fond of her as well. I do believe we will be related in a few years by marriage, Stephen.”
Stephen put his hand over his heart and rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe how these children are growing up.”
Toby grinned. “Just so you know, Tate is extremely protective over Cate and views your son as a threat. But he loves the boy and approves of him, so he is somewhat torn. Be prepared to receive all manner of lecture from him.”
Stephen couldn’t pass up the opportunity to jab at Tate, for any reason. “Hmmm,” he looked thoughtful. “I do believe that I will bring up the subject of his daughter’s dowry. My son will marry no pauper.”
“He should be here in another day or so and you can discuss it with him then. But I would be prepared to defend myself if I were you.”
Stephen laughed softly, watching Arabella set Sophie to her feet and then snorting as Sophie and Dane did exactly as his youngsters had done. They went straight for the snowy mud puddles. But a firm word from Toby stopped them and Stephen raised his eyebrows.
“I have not yet learned that particular command when it comes to children,” he commented. “My children do as they please no matter what I say.”
Toby shook her head reproachfully. “Stephen, you command hundreds of men and a powerful empire. Do you mean to tell me that you’ve not yet learned to control your children?”
He looked ashamed. “My wife does but, unfortunately, they do not seem to listen to me very well. That is why Joselyn did not meet you in the bailey, in fact. I allowed Rem and Ashton near the mud puddles and, well….”
Toby shook her head, laughing at his sheepishness. “Do not feel so badly,” she told him. “Kenneth is the same way with his boys and I never thought I’d see the day when the mighty Earl of Wrexham would lose control of any man.”
Stephen grinned, thinking of Kenneth, having gained an earldom by marriage, and his two blond-headed sons, Brennan and Evan. “Aye, but the difference is that his boys are polite and well behaved and he need not worry. I fear I am raising a pack of wild animals.”
“Do you not remember how Dylan and Alex were at that age?” Toby reminded him. “Though they are no longer uncontrollable, they still get into mischief. I cannot tell you of the countless missives Tate receives from Kenilworth on the subject. All he asks is that they not beat the boys. Other than that, the punishment is up to the knights.”
Stephen shrugged in agreement, knowing he would probably be facing the same thing with Rem. As if on cue, his eldest suddenly bolted from the keep, racing down the stairs as much as his baby legs would allow as Joselyn suddenly appeared behind him. She admonished him to be careful as she held Ashton’s hand, helping the little girl down. Toby and Stephen watched as Rem ran right for his playmate, Dane, and promptly shoved him into the mud. The boys began tussling and Joselyn moved to intervene before she even said a word of greeting to her guests. But she waved at Toby apologetically and Toby laughed.
“Do you remember those years ago at Cartingdon when I first met you and Tate and Kenneth?” she asked softly.
Stephen nodded, thinking back. It was eleven years ago but seemed like a lifetime ago. “Aye,” he replied. “I remember entering the church in Cartingdon and watching you argue with your father in front of the townsfolk because he wanted to support young Edward’s fight against Mortimer and you did not want to get involved. I remember thinking what Tate was thinking; that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen but with insufferable manners.”
Toby pursed her lips angrily at him while he snorted. Then she grew serious. “Did you ever imagine your life would turn out as it has?” she asked.
Stephen’s humor faded as he watched Joselyn deal patiently with Rem and Dane. His heart softened at the sight of her, the woman he loved with his entire being. He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
“Nay,” he said softly. “It is beyond my wildest dreams.”
“Happy?”
“Ecstatic, and then some.”
With Sebastian still in one arm, Toby slipped her hand into the crook of Stephen’s elbow. “Shall we go and greet your entire reason for living, then?”
Stephen looked into Toby’s almond-shaped eyes, twinkling up at him. He suddenly felt very emotional although he did not know why. “There are no words, Toby. No words at all to describe the joy of these days.”
She nodded with understanding. “I know, Stephen. I know.”
Tate, Cade and Cate arrived the next day, followed shortly by Kenneth, his lovely wife Bella, and their two young sons, Brennan and Evan. Roman, Alex and Dylan arrived last, big boys ready for their holiday celebration away from their training at Kenilworth.
The night of the great Christmas feast, Stephen sat in the hall with Tate and Kenneth, watching Roman, Alex and Dylan play with the younger children while Cade and Cate sat in a corner in private but proper conversation. Toby, Joselyn and Bella sat near the hearth, fussing over baby Sebastian, their laughter filling the hall now and again.
Stephen glanced over at his friends, men he loved like brothers. He was so content, so overjoyed with the blessings in his life, that he could not describe his elation. As he was thinking on his good fortune, Rem suddenly broke off from the group of children, being chased by Brennan and Dane. Brennan managed to tackle Rem, sending him to the ground as Dane fell on top of them. The boys were rolling around like puppies fighting and Stephen looked at Tate and Kenneth, who merely shrugged in succession with the resignation that fathers tended to show when their boys rough-housed.
As the mothers rose from their seats to break up the fight, Stephen lifted his cup to his friends. Tate and Kenneth lifted theirs as well, knowing instinctively what the man was thinking because they were all thinking the same thing.
“To the next generation,” Stephen said softly.
As the years passed, more children were added to their collective families. The years to come saw Stephen add two more sons, Seton and Brenton, who, along with their brothers Rem and Bastian, grew up to serve Edward the Black Prince and his son Richard the Second while their sister, the lovely Lady Ashton, became one of the most sought-after women in England and eventually married the commander of Northumberland’s armies.
Kenneth had one more child, daughter Witney St. Héver, who married a great Welsh warlord. Brothers Bren and Evan became two of the more powerful knights along the Marches, following in their father’s footsteps as fair and wise men. But it was Tate de Lara’s legacy that had the greatest impact. As the man who should have been king, his progeny followed great and prominent paths.
Roman became the next Earl of Carlisle and gained a reputation for wisdom and generosity. Cade Pembury served as the commander of Roman’s armies and the two remained lifelong friends as well as brothers when Cade married Catherine de Lara.
Dylan and Alex de Lara, the troublemakers of the bunch, ended up serving the hot-headed Black Prince as his most trusted knights, with Dylan unfortunately losing his life at the Battle of Poitier. It had been Alex, Brennan and all five Pembur
y brothers who had escorted him home for burial.
Arabella de Lara married into the English royal family while Dane de Lara became a powerful garrison commander for Tate’s brother, the great marcher lord Liam de Lara, along the Welsh border, eventually taking a Welsh wife and gaining lands and titles of his own. Sophie de Lara married a prince of Denmark and became mother to a future king.
As Stephen had once said on that wintery night in the year 1337; to the next generation. It was Tate who added the rest; and to the generations to follow.
The legacy of Dragonblade and his knights lived on.
* THE END *
SWORDS AND SHIELDS
A Medieval Romance
Reign of the House of de Winter
By Kathryn Le Veque
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Welcome to Drake and Elizaveta’s story. What a story it is!
Thetford Castle features prominently in the first part of this story. Historically speaking, by this time in history, it was in ruins and there was only the motte and the iron age ringworks surrounding it, but I have taken artistic license to make it a functioning castle for the de Winter family at this time. If you will recall from Lespada, the de Winters are Norfolk for the most part and Davyss de Winter’s mother, Lady Katharine, is the sister of the Earl of Surrey, a de Warenne by birth, and the de Warennes owned a great deal of property in Norfolk. Since Davyss is the Earl of Thetford, I have created a living world in the ruinous Thetford Castle for the sake of the story.
In the research I did for Thetford Castle, both with ancient maps and modern day maps, a large part of the city is literally built up in the south portion of the bailey. Car parks for businesses backup to the motte itself, which towers over the town. It’s truly sad that this site, much like many sites in England, could not have been better preserved over the years. Instead of horses and men in the bailey, there are now roads and a diner. That’s progress, I suppose.