Epilogue

EPILOGUE

1204 A.D.

I t was a bright day in August and surprisingly warm. The door to Nether's keep was open and a balmy breeze blew through the cold stone rooms, warming them. Keller was sitting at the feasting table in the small hall, peering at an updated map of the marches he had purchased in Gloucester a few months ago. He had taken his two oldest children with him, Caledon and Stafford, and the boys had gotten into a good deal of trouble that Keller still hadn't told his wife about. The twins reminded him a good deal of George and Aimery Ashby-Kidd in that if there was disorder to be had, those two would find it. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd have two troublemaking twins.

Even now, they were under the table trying to light the dogs' tails on fire. He kept having to stamp on the small pieces of kindling, extinguishing the fire, before the boys could get to the dogs.

"Lads," he finally muttered, his gaze still on the map. "If one of those dogs ignites, I will blister you both. Is that clear?"

Two blond heads popped up from underneath the table. Identical brown eyes looked at their father innocently. "We were not lighting the dogs, Papa," Staff insisted. "We were just playing."

Keller looked up from the map, his eyes narrowing at his six-year-old son. "I know you were playing," he said. "You were playing with fire."

Cal nodded his head seriously. "We were practicing, Papa."

Keller didn't believe his child for a minute. "Practicing what?"

Cal was animated. He stood up and raised his arms in emphasis. "When we are great knights, we will capture a castle," he said. "We must know how to burn the drawbridge down."

Keller fought off a grin. His boys had a wild imagination, but they were sweet little terrors and it crushed him every time he had to discipline them, which was often. Everyday saw them stealing chicken eggs, or fist fighting each other to the point of bloody noses, or pulling their sisters' hair, which often garnered their mother's displeasure as well.

"You will not be burning down drawbridges any time soon," Keller said, holding out a hand. "Give me your kindling."

Unhappy, Cal came out from underneath the table, begrudgingly placing a few sticks of kindling in his father's hand. Staff, on his brother's heels, did the same. But Keller kept his hand outstretched.

"The flint, please."

Cal frowned terribly, producing a small piece of flint he'd been keeping in his other hand. Both boys started to walk away but Keller grasped Staff, preventing him from going any further, and frisked him until he found a second flint stone. He eyed his boys sternly.

"No more fire," he told them, calmly but firmly. "If I find that you have been playing with fire again, I will punish you. Is that clear?"

The boys nodded, frowning faces and averted gazes. As Keller leaned forward and kissed both boys, Cal on the forehead and Staff on the cheek when the child squirmed, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the second floor above.

Chrystobel descended the stairs with a baby on her hip, a small girl in one hand, and another small girl trailing after her. She helped her second youngest child off the stairs and the little curly-haired lass ran straight for her father, who picked her up and hugged her. Chrystobel stood at the base of the stairs as her middle child, a daughter with her blond hair and Keller's blue eyes, carefully made her way down the steps. When the little girl got to the bottom, she ran to her father just as her younger sister had. Four-year-old Iselle and three-year-old Genevieve were quite attached to their father, and he to them. He hugged his little girls happily, forgetting all about the map and his naughty boys.

Chrystobel, with her one-year-old son Tallys on her hip, smiled as she watched her husband with the girls. He was really quite sweet with them, spoiling them with hugs and kisses and gifts. In fact, he did that with all of the children. The man was a giver, in every sense. But he could also be very stubborn and she braced herself for that possibility as she prepared to deliver some news.

"I have something to tell you," she said, watching him bounce Genevieve on his knee.

Keller glanced at her. "What is it?"

"George is here," she said. "I have been watching him for quite some time. He is now heading up the hill and should be here shortly."

Now, Keller's gaze fixed on her. "How do you know it is him?"

"Who else could it be?"

Keller shrugged. Already, Chrystobel could see the scowl coming. "It does not have to be George," he insisted. "It could be anyone."

"He is coming from the south, from Pembroke Castle where he is now stationed."

"It is probably just a bachelor knight, wandering from castle to castle."

Chrystobel sighed faintly. "Keller," she admonished softly. "You told George and Izlyn that they had to wait until she was eighteen. She turned eighteen almost a year ago. George wrote you six months ago and said he would be coming for Izlyn around her nineteenth birthday, which is next month. You must face facts, my love. George has come for her."

As Keller sat and looked at the two babies in his lap, pondering the fact that George had finally come to marry Izlyn, the young lady in question came bounding down the steps. Keller could tell her steps. She always sounded as if she was scurrying. Izlyn scurried down the great stone steps from the floor above, racing into the small hall and throwing her arms around her sister and baby nephew.

"He is here!" she exclaimed. "George has come!"

Chrystobel was thrilled for her sister but still aware of her husband's feelings. Keller had been terribly protective of Izlyn since the day he married Chrystobel and basically treated the girl like a daughter. Izlyn had spent her formative teen years not fostering in a cold household, but living with her sister and husband, deeply loved. Therefore, Keller felt as if he was losing a daughter.

"Mayhap you should go to the gatehouse," Chrystobel said helpfully. "The sentries have a much better view of the road and will know for sure. Where is William?"

"He should be at the gatehouse," Keller said, his voice sounding sad and dull. He sighed heavily. "I will go and see if it is indeed George."

Izlyn took Genevieve from Keller's lap as he set Iselle carefully on the floor. As he headed out of the hall, Iselle whimpered and ran after him, so he picked her up and carried her out with him. Chrystobel and Izlyn watched him go, feeling his melancholy mood.

"Is he upset?" Izlyn wanted to know. "Surely he is happy for me."

Chrystobel nodded. "Of course he is happy for you," she said. "But you know he is very attached to you, to all of his girls. It will be difficult for him to turn you over to another man, even another man as wonderful as George."

At the mention of George's name, Izlyn broke into a big smile. A woman grown now, she was blond and beautiful and elegant, and the speech that had evaded her for so long had returned with a vengeance after her brother's death. She was eloquent and articulate now, and very much in love with George Ashby-Kidd, and he with her. That fondness from years ago had developed into something much, much more.

"Keller will send word to St. Peter's, won't he?" Izlyn wanted to know. "He said he would when the time came. I would like to be married there."

Chrystobel nodded patiently. "He will, I am sure," she said. "If he does not, then I will do it. Have no fear that you shall be married, Izzie. Even if I have to drag my husband kicking and screaming to the church, I swear you shall be married there."

Izlyn laughed softly, very excited to see George. She hadn't seen him since Christmas of last year and it was a very long time to be separated from the man she loved. With Genevieve still on her hip, she left the keep, standing on the steps just outside of the entry, watching the activity at the gatehouse. Chrystobel came out to stand behind her, noticing that Keller was ordering the portcullis to be raised. Beyond, straddling the Gorge of the Dead, was the big wooden bridge that connected the castle to the road. As the ladies watched from the vantage point in front of the keep, men began to appear on the bridge, heading for the gatehouse.

George was riding at the head of the small army. There were forty men behind him, including his brother Aimery, who had been married the previous year to William Wellesbourne's eldest daughter. William had moved his family to Nether several years ago, his wife and three children, and while the two younger children had gone off to foster, Aimery had married the very pretty Rose Wellesbourne. But Rose moved back to Pembroke when the Ashby-Kidd brothers were stationed there, so it was a bit of a wonderful surprise for William, in the gatehouse, to see that Rose had accompanied her husband to Nether for a visit. It was even more of a surprise when William saw his daughter's gently swollen belly and realized she was pregnant with his first grandchild.

As Rose and William hugged happily in the gatehouse, George entered the bailey and dismounted his big black steed. As he passed the horse off to a soldier and headed towards Keller, who was moving towards him from the direction of the keep with a small girl in his arms, the de Poyer twins made an appearance.

Cal and Staff had been playing over near the corner of the keep, specifically because William had told them to stay away from the busy gatehouse. Unhappy, they were building something with the stones that were scattered all over the bailey, but when they saw George, they focused in on the man. They remembered George when he had visited at Christmas time. He had a brother that looked just like him, but the brother was starting to bald whereas George wasn't. That's how they recognized him. Furthermore, George had tied them up to a chair when they stole his coin purse out of his saddlebags. Worse yet, he had told their father, who had promptly spanked them. Nay, the boys weren't happy with George's appearance in the least. It was time to get even.

As George made his way towards Keller, Cal and Staff gathered handfuls of small pebbles. George was several feet away from Keller, lifting his hand in greeting, when he began to feel a stinging sensation on his legs and arms. It took him a few moments to realize that Cal and Staff were throwing rocks at him. He came to a halt, scowling at the boys, who continued throwing the pebbles. With a shake of his head, frustrated and resigned, George dodged flying pebbles as he closed the gap to Keller.

"Greetings, my lord," he said to Keller. "You and your young daughter are looking quite well today."

A pebble smacked him right in the cheek and his hand flew to his face, turning to scowl menacingly at the boys. Keller, however, was rather pleased with his sons' aim. He was hoping that if they threw enough rocks, perhaps George would leave and Izlyn would remain unmarried. But he knew that was a foolish thought so he held up a hand to his twins, admonishing them to stop. Cal and Staff ceased their assault, at least for the moment. When their father returned his attention to George, Cal fired off a pebble that hit George in the back of the head.

"The boys have not forgotten how you punished them for stealing your coin," Keller commented as George rubbed the back of his head. "Even at their young age, they have a sense of vengeance."

George eyed the naughty twins. "They are going to have a sense of my hand to their backside if they are not careful," he grumbled, then looked quickly at Keller. "With your permission, of course."

Keller fought off a grin. "Of course," he agreed. "But I seem to remember two brothers in my service a few years ago, twins of course, who fought and threw punches at the slightest provocation. Do you remember those two?"

George sighed heavily, grinning reluctantly. "I believe I do," he said, trying not to laugh because Keller was. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Izlyn standing at the keep entry and suddenly, his attention was diverted. The young woman filled his field of vision and his smile turned appreciative. "She has grown more beautiful since the last time I saw her."

Keller turned to see what had the young man's attention. In fact, he didn't even have to guess. He knew. Izlyn was standing several feet away, holding little Genevieve, and she was gazing at George with the same expression that George had. It was the same expression Keller had when he looked at Chrystobel. It was love. Clearing his throat softly, Keller headed for the castle.

"Let us go inside and share some wine as we discuss marriage details," he said to George. "But I suppose you would like to speak with your intended first."

George's eyes were riveted to Izlyn as he followed Keller. "May I even take her hand?"

Keller cast him a long look over his shoulder. "Nay," he said flatly. "You may not touch her until the wedding."

George was disappointed but not deterred. Ultimately, he would get what he wanted and that was all that mattered in the end. As he followed Keller, he felt the resumption of little stings on his back and legs as Cal and Staff commenced throwing pebbles at him again. When Keller was well enough ahead of him, George stopped, whirled around and picked up a handful of dirt and rocks from the bailey in the same motion, and fired off several pebbles of his own that sent the naughty twins running for cover. Then, he dropped the dirt, brushed off his hand, and trotted after Keller, catching up with the man just as he was ascending the steps into the keep. The twins remained in hiding.

Chrystobel greeted George warmly and stood aside when George greeted Izlyn. The two lovers stood there, staring at one another dreamily, until Chrystobel shoved Keller into the keep and followed the man so her sister could be alone with her intended. Izlyn and George could hear Keller voicing his strong objections and then Chrystobel telling him that if she had no objections to leaving them alone, then he should have no objections. Keller grumbled and they could hear a door slam. Izlyn giggled at the fading sounds.

"He is very protective," she said. "But, certainly, he has nothing to worry about. You are always perfectly behaved."

George didn't want to disillusion her, not just yet. That would come later when he was legally and morally allowed to do whatever he damn well pleased to her. He smiled saucily as he began to dig into his blue Pembroke tunic.

"For now, anyway," he said, adding a bold wink. "You look well and beautiful, as always."

Izlyn blushed prettily. "Thank you," she said. "Have you been well?"

"I have," he said quietly. "I have missed you very much."

"And I have missed you. The longing has been dreadful."

"For me as well," he said. He continued to rummage around in his tunic, finally pulling forth what he was searching for. He held something up between them, pinched between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "I was packing my belongings the other day and came across this, wrapped in a small piece of linen I had tucked into my saddle bags. I thought you might like to see what I have been carrying for luck ever since you gave it to me."

Izlyn peered at the object. It looked like a dried weed, flattened by time and age, but when he turned it more in her direction, she realized that she was looking at the thistle she had given him the day before Gryffyn had been killed. She gasped as realization swept her.

"You gave this to me years ago," he said softly, watching her astonished expression. "Do you recall?"

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. 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 *