Champion

                                                          Chapter Two

Gabrielle sighed deeply with the memories of her distant youth as she made her way down the remainder of the stairs, lifting the hem of her pale pink gown as she crossed the gravel yard to the small grouping of mighty oak trees. She stood in the center of the trees and turned her face up to gaze at the fluttering leaves above her. If only she would have known in her youth how horrid the shackles of adult life could be. Had she known then what she knew now, she might not have cast her childhood aside so abruptly as she did.

She pulled her gaze from the leaves to glance back at the keep. As she had changed, the same was true of her childhood home. This place she once thought to be massive and dreary was now a dwelling of quiet certainty.

She leaned her slender frame against the trunk of a tree and hugged her shoulders allowing her mind to wonder again over her past. Not all of her memories were dark, not all of them were filled with regret.

In her mind’s eye it was early spring, the day was soft and warm, a good deal like the day she was living now. Four years had passed them by since Ayden came to foster within the walls if her home. Four years that, in Gabrielle’s eyes, were the happiest years of her life.

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“Shh, listen!”  Gabrielle whispered, abruptly ending her chatter as she held her hand up to Ayden’s mouth, as if he were the one rambling on and on about the Mayday celebration her father was planning.

“You shh!” he chided, pushing her hand away. “You are the one who refuses to be silent.”  Ayden smiled when Gabrielle smacked him smartly upon the arm, scowling at him while fighting to control her own amusement.

“Truly listen,” she murmured, tipping her head to the sound only she seemed to hear “Oh it’s, Nan. Hurry let us hide before she finds me and forces me to take up my needle.”  Gabrielle took hold of his arm and pulled him out the door of the great hall, down the stairs and across the spacious courtyard to the only cluster of trees that graced the barren grounds of Westwood.

“How could you tell it was Nan, Gabby? I could hear nothing,” he asked, following Gabrielle’s example and hid behind a tree, then looked around the thick trunk to the steps of the keep. He knew how she hated to be confined indoors and did his best to hide from the woman her father hired to help raise his daughter.  

“That, my friend, is because you are as deaf as a post.”  Gabrielle gave him a mischievous smile, flashing her white teeth at him. “The blasted woman shuffles her feet when she walks.”  She pointed in triumph when the lady in question appeared in the doorway her hands on her hips her pale brown hair shinning in the midday sun.

“I may be deaf Lady, but I can see better on a foggy day than you could on a day lit by a blazing sun,” Ayden bragged then reached out and pinched her shoulder, causing her to squeal.  

“Ouch!”  She reached out and pinched him back then they both watched as Nan shook her head, disappointed at not finding her charge, and disappeared once again inside the keep.

“Awe, sweet victory,” Gabrielle announced as she sank down to the soft ground, at the base of the tree, and patted the grassy spot next to her for Ayden to sit. He obeyed and sat shoulder to shoulder with her, looking up to the fluttering leafs dancing on the gentle breeze just above their heads as the silence of the afternoon enveloped him.

In all his days at Westwood he’d never known Gabrielle to be silent for longer than few minutes at a time, unless something was troubling her. He looked at her upturned face and the slight smile playing across her lips, deciding she looked terribly content and then found himself wondering what it was that occupied her mind to keep her quiet for so long.

His poor heart fluttered wildly as he freely took in the young woman who sat beside him. She had changed, over the years, as he came to see her for the woman she could be. Strong and beautiful, not just the chattering, rumpled sprite she was when he saved her from her tormenters all those years ago. She was still that girl, but he seemed to see her with different eyes. Eyes changed by the deep affection he now carried for her.

He longed to reach out and brush a strand of dark hair from her face and run his fingers across her rosy cheek. It was a tenderness he’d seen his father bestow upon his mother time and time again. He longed to know for himself what it felt like to share such tenderness with Gabrielle.

“What?”  Her voice pulled him from a place he hardly ever allowed his mind to wander and back to the now.

“What?” he responded with alarm at being caught staring at her like a smitten fool.

“You are staring at me as if you have never eaten a thing in the whole of your life,” she teased, laughing slightly as she elbowed him in the ribs.

“You just looked content sitting there and I was wondering what you had on your mind to keep you so silent for so long,” he mused, hoping she would not see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“You missed my chattering did you?”  Gabrielle tilted her head back and closed her eyes against a streak of light that managed to make its way down through the fluttering leafs.

“Hardly, it is only that my ears have become so accustomed to your endless chatter they were beginning to ring with the silence,” he muttered, his affection for her smoothing his voice.

“Oh hush you.”  Her lips parted with a smile and then it was quiet again, causing him to worry.

“Tell me Gabby,” he insisted with her prolonged silence.

“Do you truly wish to know?” she asked.

“Aye.”

“Truly?”  She turned to face him and somehow through her joy managed to frown at him, turning her lips out in the pout she often used on her father to force him to comply with her wishes.

“I will seek out Nan, and inform her of your hiding place,” he threatened, pinching her again on the arm, satisfied when she squealed.

“Very well, I wished to keep it to myself for a moment longer but if you must know.” She paused and smiled for a moment, holding her news to herself for but a moment longer. “I am to be betrothed.”  She smiled brightly at him her dark eyes shinning in true bliss.

“What? When?”  Ayden gasped, hardly believing his ears. He wanted to ask Lord Westwood if he might have his daughter’s hand. He loved Gabrielle greater than any man ever could, he was sure of it.

“My father informed me this very morning. Is it not wonderful?”  She was on her feet in one smooth movement and began spinning about in a circle, a bundle of boundless energy.

“Do you know this man to whom you are to be married?”  Ayden asked, running a hand through his hair nearly in a panic.

“Nay,” Gabrielle stopped her spinning and turned to look down at him, slightly taken aback by his question.  “Does it matter if I know him or not?”

“Aye, it matters. He could be a brute or a drunk or worse.”  Ayden pushed to his feet to look her in the eyes.

“My father surely knows him Ayden, he would not allow me to marry such a man. You know that as well as I,” she said crushed by his lack of enthusiasm in her pending betrothal. She reached out and took his hands in hers causing his world to crumble.  “I thought you would be happy for me, Ayden,” she remarked her dark eyes searching his face, desperately seeking his approval.

“Aye, I’m happy for you,” he lied, knowing he would never accept the fact that she would be married to anyone but him.

“Besides, you are to go to Norick within the fortnight and will have plenty to occupy your mind.  So what else have I to do but marry?” she murmured softly.  “You will win your spurs and I will do my best to hide from, Nan.” Her dark eyes burned through his resolve, causing his soul to ache. 

“Knowing that I will be married when I am ten and seven will give me something to dream about.” In the corners of her mind, she could manage to escape whatever it was that plagued her little world, whether it be Nan forcing her to remain indoors practicing her stitches or some foul insult she was offered by one of the lads. Within the depths of her dreams, she could escape anything. Ayden only wished he could allow himself to escape his troubles within his dreams. He tried many a time, but in the end he was reminded of the harshness his cruel world contained.

“Aye,” he offered softly, hating the sound of his own voice. “I hardly believe I will win my spurs, Gabby. You have turned me into a lazy bones, spending my days hiding with you in the trees when I should be in the lists practicing a skill that will serve me well.” He did his best to give her his support, although knowing she was to wed another tore him apart from the inside out.

“I have seen you in the lists Ayden, you do yourself an injustice speaking ill of your skill,” she complemented with pride, her dark eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

“Awe, the false praise of a friend. I know not whether to take these words to heart or allow them to further injure my pride.” He knew as well as she that Lord Norick would find him greatly lacking when it came to his skill in the lists.

“Do not take my words as jest,” she scolded. “You have been a dear friend to me these last years. I would never have survived this dreary life without you. I thank you for the sacrifices you have made in my name.”  She kissed him lightly on the cheek turning his legs to useless mush.

“Aye.”  Was all he could manage to say to her earnest words of praise.

Gabrielle took in her dear friend’s down trodden countenance and tried not to laugh at him. Who would have ever guessed the prospect of her marriage would upset him so greatly?  They both knew they couldn’t be playmates forever. Besides she was ten and two and he was leaving her to go and squire at another keep and more than that, her dear father couldn’t keep her locked away in this dreadful place forever. She must marry.

“When is your blessed betrothal, so your so called husband-to-be can grace us with his presence?”  Ayden asked, dropping her hands to lean his slender frame against a nearby tree, folding his arms about his chest.

“I will not meet him until the day we are wed,” she answered wearily, watching Ayden scowl and quickly began speaking again before he had a chance to rant and rave about how any respectable man would be here for his own betrothal.     

“Father says he is winning his spurs, then owes his master services before he will be able to travel to Westwood. It is common enough Ayden, so stop scowling at me before you spoil my pleasant mood,” Gabrielle scolded, doing her best to smile, but found she couldn’t because of the gloom playing across his face. She cared deeply for him and hated to see him so wretched at such a blessed time.

She crossed the distance to where he stood and slid her arm through his, turning her head to look up into his pale eyes.

“Will you stand in as his proxy?” she asked, hope filling her voice. “There is no other I would rather stands next to me than you.”  Gabrielle tugged at his arm gently, wishing he were in better spirits.

“I cannot,” he answered briskly, shuffling his feet in the soft grass.

“Oh Ayden, please… do not make me beg, for you know I will.  Please stand in for Alexander,” she nearly pleaded, pulling on his arm.

“So he has a name.”  He furrowed his brow at her and Gabrielle tried to understand the source of his annoyance with the man she was to marry. He’d never met him and yet he acted as if he already offended him in someway.

“Aye he has a name, Alexander Mountbatton. His father is presently in service to the king as will his son one day.”  She watched Ayden’s eyes grow even darker and knew she’d pinched a tender nerve.

“I will never befriend a man who is in the service of this king.”  He turned his eyes from her, and Gabrielle felt instant sorrow with his harsh words, though she fully understood the reasoning behind them.

“What of his wife, will you still call her your friend?” she questioned, swallowing her sudden grief. She could not live her life without his friendship.

Ayden looked at her then, his eyes full of the very same sorrow she felt.  Their lives were changing, never to be the same again.  God only knew when, or if, they would see one another once he left for Norick.

“Aye Gabby, I will still call you a friend no matter how wretched your husband may be.”  Ayden took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently, still looking rather aggravated with her coming betrothal.

“Then say aye, Ayden. Stand next to me before the priest,” Gabrielle begged, her hope intertwined in her words.

“Very well,” he whispered as though she was forcing him to perform the task. It was simple enough to her mind, he only need stand beside her and speak the name of her betrothed as it was asked of him. “As you wish it, but it brings me no joy,” Ayden huffed as if he were truly indifferent.

“Thank you!” she squealed, throwing her arms about his neck, hugging him tightly.  It would all be perfect, just as she always imagined it, save for the fact the intended would be missing but she would have Ayden to stand in his place so all would be well.

Near a fortnight later Ayden stood ridged before the priest, holding Gabrielle’s hand in his, clenching and unclenching his teeth and grinding his jaw until it ached from the strain. How she ever talked him into standing as proxy he would never know?

He spent long hours thinking of this day, but oh how he’d seen it differently. In his mind it had been his name which was spoken and not that of Alexander Mountbatton, some fool peacock in service to the king.

He forced himself to pay attention and said the words that were asked of him, speaking the name of the strange man, unwillingly placing his beloved Gabrielle into the hands of another, losing her forever.

She beamed up at him when he slid the small gold ring onto her finger, and in return took the one she had to offer her betrothed and clutched it in the palm of his closed fist. He wanted nothing more than to throw the horrid trinket upon the ground and stomp the cursed thing into the dust with the heel of his boot.

Hours later he sat beside Gabrielle on the dais, while the inhabitance of Westwood dined on the finest fare he’d ever seen grace the white linen covered tables. Legs of beef, mutton, a delicate swan laid out in its feathers, fine pastries and fruit in all assortments stretched out before them.  The massive hall was set a blaze with laughter and music, while his poor heart sunk deeper and deeper into despair.

He looked across the hall to where Lord Westwood was talking and laughing with a few of his tenants, giving Ayden cause to wonder how it was that such an honorable man could give his only daughter away to a perfect stranger, when he was sitting right here and would take care of his Lord’s only child just as well as any? 

Ayden rose abruptly from his seat and crossed the room to where Lord Westwood was conversing, his ears filling with the conversation his master was gleefully sharing with all who were within hearing.

“My daughter will marry into a fine family indeed. Aye, they serve the crown but what can be said of that, so does half of England. I will be honored to have her upon the arm of a fine man with a strong name resting on her shoulders.” Lord Westwood concluded his speech with a hardy drink from his goblet, pausing when his dark eyes fell to his foster son.

“Ayden my boy, what ails you lad?”  he inquired concern edging his voice as he pushed through the crowd that separated them. He took Ayden by the arm and propelled him to a quiet corner.

“I am well enough, only nerves, my Lord.”  He tipped his head at the man before him, a man he’d grown to love as dearly as his own father. He had not the nerve to contradict Lord Westwood’s choice of husband for his only daughter.

“Thinking of your journey to Norick, are you my boy? Do not fret over much. I am well acquainted with Lord Norick. He is a good man despite the rumors you have no doubt heard about him. He will teach you that which I have failed to teach you these last years.”  He patted his foster son hardily on the shoulder then followed his pale eyes to the dais where his daughter sat beaming, gleefully chattering with whomever came within hearing.

“Gabby will miss you terribly, Ayden. You have been her only true friend and I thank you for that.” Lord Westwood added an extra emphasis to the word friend, never turning his eyes from his daughter as he spoke.

Ayden pulled his gaze unwillingly back to his master and mulled the word friend over and over in his mind applying to it the emphasis Lord Westwood placed upon that single, repulsive word.

Aye, he was her friend and after this day that is what he would remain, her friend, and nothing more.

“Aye, my Lord.”  Ayden gave him a half bow and made his way out of the great hall into the fresh night air, hoping to clear his head.  In a day he would make his way to Norick and put her behind him. He would have no choice. His unspoken question was answered.  This, Alexander, was a better man than he, that miserable fact had been made clear enough to his young mind.

He slumped down the steps then turned to look back at castle Westwood. This massive keep had been his home for four years, and now he would leave it as he left his last home, full of sorrow and longing for what could never be.

Gabrielle sat on the steps of the keep, gazing at her ringed finger a slight smile parting her lips. It was a glorious night; the food, the dancing and for the first time, in her life, all the attentions had been on her.

She rose from her perch and stretched her sluggish arms towards the heavens. She was still exhausted from her night of revelry, but wouldn’t miss Ayden’s departure for all the sleep in the world.

The small party had been making preparations since the sun peeked up over the horizon and were now nearly ready to depart on their long journey. She decided she better say her goodbyes before they were all mounted and headed to the gate.

“Safe journey, Papa.”  Gabrielle hugged her father, giving him a bright smile figuring it would be far easier saying goodbye to her father since she knew he would be returning, while heaven only knew when she would see Ayden again.

“Take care while I am away, see things are kept in order and stay out of mischief.”  He kissed her tenderly upon the forehead before he mounted his horse and nodded to where Ayden stood, fiddling with his saddle, putting off departure as long as he could possibly manage.

“Will Lord Norick be kind to him, Papa?”  Gabrielle asked, concern for her friend welling up within her.

“Aye daughter. He will be well taught and will no doubt win his spurs faster than you can mend a fine gown.” He threw her a wink, knowing full well of the length his daughter took to avoid plying her needle. “Say your farewell child.”

Gabrielle slowly crossed the courtyard to where Ayden stood still inspecting his saddle and looking rather finicky even to her young eyes.

“I believe it is sound,” she offered, not knowing what else to say. He was so displeased with her for forcing him to stand proxy for Alexander, she wondered if he would ever speak to her again. But then again, what did it matter, he was leaving today to start a new life miles and miles away and would no doubt forget she existed.

“Aye.”  Was his only response, and then he looked for a moment as if he might mount his horse without bidding her farewell.

Gabrielle hastily untied the deep blue ribbon that bound her hair back from her face and tied it about his arm, meeting his eyes when he turned to look at her. He seemed fully stunned with the simple gesture.

“What is that for?” Ayden asked a bit confused. He’d seen ladies tie favors to the arms of their knights before they rode off to do battle in the lists, bidding them to fight in their name and win the right to be her champion, but he was no knight and she was betrothed to another.

“Were you not my champion once, Ayden?” she asked softly, nearly choking on her words.  “I could not let you ride away without something to remember me.”  Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and his firm resolve to leave without properly telling her farewell crumbled into nothing. He hated to see her cry and soon found his traitor arms hugging her tightly.

“Awe, silly Gabby, do not cry.” He pulled back and held her hands in his, looking into her over large eyes and dirt-smudged face. No matter how hard she tried she always carried a bit of dirt on her cheeks.  The poor girl was so thin she took on the look of being half starved, but oh how he knew better. She could out eat any of her father’s men by a fair amount and sit beaming in triumph, as if she’d hardly eaten a thing, as her opponents would groan in discomfort.  Her coal black hair was her best feature, even though it was hardly ever bushed and even now when it looked as if she had just crawled out of her bed.

“Will you remember me once you are a grand knight and I am married? Will you still think of me from time to time, even when you are busy accomplishing the things that grand men do?”  She choked back a sob and did her best to smile up at him.

“Aye, Gabby. How could I not?” he asked, brushing her cheeks warily with the very tips of his fingers. He knew after this moment he would do all within his power to never see her again.  “My poor, fool ears will ring daily from missing your endless chatter.”

“Good, I will not be the only one who is in misery. I will miss you terribly, Ayden.” She hugged him again, causing his world to spin violently about him.  He tipped his head heavenward silently pleading for her father to somehow reconsider and allow things to be as they have always been. 

He would gladly stay at Westwood and learn from Gabrielle’s father all he needed to know to become a knight, then he would have every right to ask for her hand. He would be a good man. He would be worthy of her. He knew he would be, he only needed time.

“Aye.”  Was all he could force his constricted throat to say. All the pleading in the world would never change what was. He would have no choice but to suffer and he would do so in silence.

“Come along, lad. We must be on our way.” Lord Westwood turned his horse in the direction of the gate followed by the rest of his men, their horses laden with supplies for the long journey.

“Farewell.” Ayden bent and kissed her gently upon the cheek and hastily mounted his horse.

“Safe journey,” Gabrielle called after him as he put heel to his mount.

He could not look back as he rode away. He had not the desire for her to see his tears of regret rolling unchecked down his cheeks.