Page 22 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Why what?” asked Corbett.

“Why are you making me stay with him? What are you and Rook up to, Father?”

“I’ll watch over her, my lord,” said Jonathon, knowing that Corbett wasn’t going to want to answer that question. They never explained to her why they felt she needed a personal guard, and hell if Jonathon was going to be the one to do it. “Gerold, slow down and sweep gently or we’re all going to choke to death on the dust.”

“Sorry,” answered the boy.

“I suggest we go out in the fresh air, my lady.” Jonathon stretched out his arm, motioning Raven out the door after her father.

Once outside, he looked back at the boy again, shaking his head. Now, he would have two to watch over instead of just one. How in heaven’s name was he ever going to find time to construct a piece worthy enough to be accepted into the guild as a master of his trade when he had so many other duties that would be taking his attention?

Chapter 6

Jonathon reached up to help Raven from her horse once they’d stopped in front of his shop in town a little while later. She didn’t need or want his help, but something made her accept it. Perhaps it was because she wanted to feel his hands on her waist again. Or mayhap it was because she was hoping he’d realize she was wearing rose water and comment on it. He didn’t.

“Watch out for the puddles,” Jonathon told her, releasing her quickly and not taking an extra moment to sniff her which made her a bit disappointed. “The streets in town are full of ruts and mud. They are not fit for a lady.” He tied up the horses to the hitching post in front of the shop. Hanging out from over the door to the shop was a metal shield with two swords crossed behind it. This symbolized that an armorer worked here.

Only the nobles, clergy, and a small number of the tradesmen or merchants could read and write. Most of the commoners, the servants, and serfs didn’t have these skills. Therefore, in front of each shop hung a sign depicting what service was offered inside. The butcher had a wooden sign with a cleaver and a pig painted on it. The tavern’s sign was a wine cask and a tankard, stating that this place had both wine and ale. The chandler had a sign with a candle on it, and the cordwainer’s sign was cut into the shape of a shoe.

There were wooden walkways in front of the stores, which were connected all in a row. The streets of the town were in horrendous condition. Besides mud and ruts, people threw their scraps and waste right into the road. They even emptied their chamber pots out the second story windows. It paid to look up while walking past the buildings, or one might get a terrible surprise.

The stench of the town was even worse than the smell of the gongpit at the castle on a hot summer’s day. This is one of the reasons that Raven never came here. The worst stench by far had to be by the tanners. Also, the fishmonger’s place where guts from their catches were flung outside for the stray cats and pigs to feast on.

She didn’t want Jonathon to know how she really felt about coming here. Raven was still feeling bad for the way she’d talked to him earlier, so instead she said nothing about the stench. Now she was glad she dabbed on extra rose water before leaving the castle.

“I’m not afraid of a little mud.” She took one step and stopped as her foot sank into a mixture of mud and clay, mixed with who-knows-what. “God’s feet!” she exclaimed, no longer able to stay silent. She’d just ruined her favorite pair of shoes.

“It’s not God’s feet that are in trouble,” he said, looking down. “I did warn you. Hold on tightly, my lady,” he told her from behind. Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, he swept her up into his arms and trudged through the mud, carrying her to the door.

Raven’s arms clasped around his neck since she didn’t want to fall. It was embarrassing to say the least, but still, part of her really didn’t mind. Instead, she was entranced by the scent of woodsmoke on Jonathon’s clothes and the way his arms felt wrapped around her. She let one of her hands slide down to his upper arm, surprised to feel his big muscles that were rock hard. Swinging a hammer at the forge all day long seemed to have given him a very toned body.

Thankfully, he no longer wore the clothes of a guard. He’d changed back into his own clothes before leaving the castle, telling her he couldn’t be dressed like that in his own town, and she agreed.

Jonathon carried her up a few stairs to a wooden walkway that attached his family’s shop to the others all in a row. She liked the feel of being in his arms and might have taken a moment to enjoy it if she hadn’t looked over his shoulder and saw all the townspeople staring at them. Suddenly, she felt on edge again.

“Put me down,” she commanded, trying to squirm out of his hold.

“Easy, my lady,” he said in a low voice, gently putting her feet on the wooden walkway. She felt the warmth of his hold dissipate quickly.

“Well, what do you think? Do you like it? Are you ready for more?”

“What?” she gasped, thinking he was speaking of being in his arms. She felt her face redden. How did he know? Raven did like it, and secretly wanted him to carry her again, but without everyone watching. She was now under the perusal of every commoner in town, and she didn’t like it. “How can you think a titled woman is going to like being in a commoner’s arms? And how can you have the audacity of asking a noblewoman if she likes it and wants more?”

He looked at her oddly and slowly shook his head. One side of his mouth flipped upward into a cocky grin. “I was speaking about the shop,” he told her. “However, I can see that is not where your mind is at the moment.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling very foolish. She looked down and busied herself brushing off her gown, rather than have to look directly at him at a time like this. She could feel the eyes of all the townsfolk drilling into her and felt the need to get indoors quickly. “Yes, I’d like to see more. Of the shop, that is.” She led the way, not waiting for him to invite her inside. Pushing open the door, she barged in, only to stop in her tracks. Seven people inside the building all looked up and stopped what they were doing. Once again everyone stared at her. Would this ever end? One of the men was inside an adjoining room that had the forge in it, but he put down his hammer when he saw them.

“Lady Raven, I’d like to introduce you to my family,” said Jonathon, entering the shop and walking up next to her. She didn’t move. He put his hand on her elbow, directing her forward.

“Jonathon, what’s this all about?” asked the older man, stepping out from behind the counter. He limped over to them, nodding.

“Lady Raven, this is my father, Crispin Armstrong, and my mother, Avice,” he said, introducing her to an older woman standing across the room as well. A young girl and a young boy were with her. They put down their things and hurried over to join them.

“Hello,” Raven squeaked out, feeling very uncomfortable meeting Jonathon’s family. Or all of them at once, anyway.

“Are you a noble from the castle?” asked the young boy.

“Yes, she is,” Jonathon answered for her. “Raven, this is my youngest brother, Heathcliff. He’s twelve.”