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“ ’Tis more than that, m-my lady,” he said softly. “Tell me; would you do anything for your clan, even if it meant being uncomfortable for a time?”
“Of course, without question,” she answered.
“It is the same with the knighthood,” he responded. “You see, we depend on each other, fight and die for each other. Hell, sometimes even fight and die against each other, but we are all part of the same clan, as you will. We are all of the same vows and goals. ’Tis an honor to accept a new member willing to pledge his life for the collective brotherhood.”
She understood what he was saying, knowing knighthood ties were like clan ties; very strong. She appreciated Michael’s patience in explaining the ceremony to two ignorant women.
“Thank you, sir knight,” she said. “Ye have been most educational.”
“M-my pleasure, my lady,” he answered.
She could not help but notice the wistful look in his eye when he turned away.
*
After a night of kneeling in his armor, William’s body was screaming for relief by the time the eastern horizon turned faint shades of pinkish-blue. When the richly garbed priest kneeling at the private altar rose stiffly, William did too. That signaled the other knights to rise, albeit slowly. If there were any groans of pain, William didn’t hear them.
He stood next to Paris and the captain of Beverley, Sir William Payton-Forrester. Payton-Forrester was, in simple terms, the most beautiful man God had ever seen fit to create. He was nearly as tall as William with long blond hair, flowing to his shoulders, and sky-blue eyes.
He reminded William of a Roman statue. His face was sharp of feature and square of jaw and he had the good fortune to have as fine a character as his looks. Although he had had the lion’s share of women during his life, he had finally found a woman whom he could love, and who in turn could tolerate him. William had seen her; she was a flame-haired Scot beauty with porcelain features. Pretty as she was, William was confident his Scot beauty was prettier.
Silently, the knights began to file toward their designated positions for the knighting. As William and Payton-Forrester separated themselves from the group, they noticed that the honor guard had opened the door to the chapel and the guests had begun to enter reverently.
Not a word was said until the young priest began to intone the mass in Latin. William stood before Adam, whose head was bowed respectfully. William held his sword, his own sword once belonging to his grandfather. The sword had inducted many a knight, including William. After the prayers and the readings, in which the audience participated, it was time for the blessing and the benediction.
The priest stood over Adam and made the sign of the cross, his monotone voice droning out the sing-song blessing. When it was time, William spoke the words that accepted Adam into the brotherhood of knights and tapped him lightly on first the right, and then the left shoulder. With the final blessing of the audience, the service was concluded.
Adam rose, his handsome face smiling at William as his new captain handed him his sword, his shield, and his spurs. The earl and Alexander were close behind, waiting for the proper moment to congratulate him. When William nodded slightly in their direction, they pushed forward and nearly swallowed Adam up.
William was officially finished with his duties for the moment and his mind turned to Jordan. With the earl occupied, he could slip away and spend a few stolen moments with her. He was moving for the door when Captain Payton-Forrester stopped him.
The man had a smile that could devastate the entire female population of England. But William had seen it before.
“Where are you off to, Wolf?” Payton-Forrester demanded. “ ’Tis been a long time since we have seen each other. I hardly had time to speak to you last night.”
“Hell, I was busy,” William said. “And you arrived so damn late. How is your lovely wife?”
“Shannon is well, thank you,” his friend said. “Expecting our second child. I assume Adam told you that she bore me a son last year?”
“Aye, he did,” William replied. “Congratulations on Simon.”
Payton-Forrester nodded. “And what about you? Have you found no woman yet? God knows, your ugly face would chase them off.”
William grinned. “No wife yet,” he said truthfully. After all, Jordan wasn’t his wife. Yet.
“Well, get on it, man,” Payton-Forrester told him. “I wish for our sons to foster together, but you must cooperate.”
“I shall try,” William answered, leading them both out into the early morning sunshine.
“God’s Toes.” Payton-Forrester exclaimed, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. “ ’Tis hot as hell this summer. I cannot ever remember this kind of heat, especially this far north.”
“Nor I,” William glanced up at Jordan’s windows, wondering if she were awake.
“Say, Wolf, I heard that the earl’s betrothed is the image of an angel,” Payton-Forrester said with a jab to William’s arm. “How true are the rumors?”
William could not stop himself. “True as the Bible, William. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
His friend looked insulted. “But you have seen Shannon and still you make that outrageous statement?”