Page 55 of King’s Knight

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Merewyn stood behind Cecily, helping her student to square her stance. “Keep your feet apart the distance between your hips.”

Cecily dutifully adjusted her legs. The morning sun filtered through the trees to fall on the leaves that had drifted to the ground forming a cinnamon-colored carpet beneath the girl’s feet.

The two boys, ever with her, watched from a nearby rock as the lesson proceeded. It was not her first and the boys were slowly losing their interest.

“It feels awkward to stand this way,” Cecily protested.

“I know. It did for me as well, but you will get used to it. And once you find the right stance, you must do it every time the same way.”

Cecily squared her shoulders in a determined manner and placed her toes so they just touched the arrow Merewyn had laid across the ground as a guide. “When do I get the bow?”

Merewyn reached for the small bow that had been the one she used for her own training. “How about now?”

Without moving her feet, Cecily beamed up at Merewyn. A year younger than Tibby, Alex’s brother, at nine summers, Cecily already had a will of iron.

The lesson continued as Merewyn showed Cecily how to hold the bow, how to keep her arm almost straight and how to hook the bowstring with her fingers and pull it back to her chin. “You must practice every day until it is as natural as breathing and the bow becomes an extension of your arm.”

Several minutes of practice later, Merewyn called a halt when she detected Cecily was tiring. “Tomorrow we shall begin again.”

“When do I get to shoot an arrow?” the young redhead asked.

Merewyn smiled, remembering when she had been just as impatient. “In a day or two. The better your form, the more likely your arrow will hit the target.”

The young girl sighed. “All right.”

“Come on, Cecily!” shouted Tibby, who had been shifting about on the rock, apparently desirous of playing another game. Once the boys had seen how much work learning to be an archer required, they had decided to wait to see what their friend’s lessons produced. So far, Cecily was doing well, but the lessons had only begun.

Cecily ran off to join her companions.

Snatching up the girl’s practice bow and her own, larger bow, Merewyn headed back to the manor. Before she had gone very far, her stomach lurched and her mouth filled with saliva. A sudden urge to spew up the meal she had eaten an hour before took hold of her. Ducking behind a tree, she leaned over and heaved. Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she leaned against the tree, feeling weak.

She was never ill, but mayhap there had been a touch of mold in the grain used in the gruel.

A moment later, feeling better, she pushed away from the tree. By the time she got back to the manor, it was as if it had not happened. How strange.

The next morning after Cecily’s lesson, Merewyn went to see Ceinder and the same thing happened. Only this time, she was in the stable when the urge to spew came over her.

Jamie, who had been in the stable, hearing her retch into the straw, came to her aid. “Merewyn, what is it?”

“ ’Tis nothing,” she said. “ ’Twill pass.”

“You are ill?” His concern was evident.

“Nay. It happened yesterday, too. Mayhap my gruel of late does not suit my stomach.”

“Come, sit on this stool.” He gestured to a stool in the corner and she sat. “Your face has no color.”

“Thank you,” she said with a half-hearted smirk. A few moments later, she began to feel better. Jamie still stood beside her. “See,” she said, rising from the stool, “I am now hale and, I trust, no longer without color.”

“Merewyn, I am no stripling lad, nor even a young knight. I have observed many women act as you have and always the cause is the same. Forgive me for asking, but could you be with child?”

Merewyn stared at the beam of light falling onto the straw. Yes, I could. They had come together only a few times but in her mother’s case, it had taken only once. Merewyn’s flow was often irregular, but it had not come this last month. Yes, she could well be with child. Alex’s babe! Excitement for the babe and fear for her future warred within her.

Turning her face to Jamie, she nodded. “Promise me you will say nothing.”

“I will say nothing, but I must know, ’tis Alex’s child?”