How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

aside.”
    The men cheered and the boy’s eyes widened.
    “Pay him no mind,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Just be ready to see to your flocks and retrieve your little beasties.”
    He raised one arm, pointed toward the archers, and gave a shrill whistle. The other arm motioned toward the fields and back again. His men broke into two groups, dispersed, then returned later, not even winded. Two of Abernathy’s warriors lay upon the field, wounded and moaning.
    Marcus dismounted and shooed the boy. “Well. Go get ours back.”
    The shepherd found the tallest mound on the hill, climbed upon a boulder, and sang. The sheep bleated back toward his sweet, soprano voice. One brave ram finally took the lead and the rest wandered behind him. They joined the flock of the same shade of white that rested in the opposite corner of the valley. The yellower breed ignored everything and continued to munch on the grasses as if nothing was amiss.
    “Clearly, I’ve much to learn about sheep,” Marcus muttered under his breath.
    “Aye, magical smelly beasties, they are.” Thomas raised an eyebrow.
    Marcus pointed to Adam and Zeke, the strongest of his men. “You two, stay put until I relieve you. There may be more trouble.”
    To the rest, he shrugged with a grin. “Sorry, I’m afraid that’s all the fighting we have today.”
    His men moaned in unison until Thomas lay back on the saddle. The front legs of his charger pawed the air. “Come now, stout hearts. I’ll set up practice in the green later, where you can beat each other black and blue. I’ll even put a purse on the winner.”
    Swords beat upon shields in approval. After they’d exited the hill and crossed into the valley, Marcus pulled up next to him. “Just where did you get money for rewards?”
    Thomas chuckled, tugged his charger’s reins, and their horses nickered in disapproval. “Ho. I expect to spend some of your coin—. Stop. Do you hear that?”
    Marcus paused and patted Midnight’s neck until her breath calmed. “Aye. The church bells. Mayhap someone died?” He pictured his lively young wife laid out still and pale, and groaned. I should’ve never left her alone. He rushed them along the fields, back toward his new estates, and came upon two men with oxen. Stopping in front of the first, he asked, “Tell me, good sir, what does the ringing signify?”
    “When it sounds like that, it means all is well.” The farmer heaved back hard on the plough and one ox bellowed, tossing its horns all about.
    Midnight whinnied and shied from the creature and Marcus agreed. The black beast’s eyes bulged with the fierceness of a dragon. “All? What all?”
    “Millie, behave.” Frowning, the farmer swatted the animal’s behind with a slap, and the ox settled, mild as a cow. “It means the Lady Ann fares well.”
    At those words, the tight knot in Marcus’ chest relaxed and his breathing calmed. Remarkable. No doubt, he’d been overly concerned because he’d never had a wife before. Turning to Thomas, he said, “Should we see just how well the lady bodes?”
    “‘I hope she’s not overly well. Next time, her knife might nick something more vital than an arm.” Laughing, Thomas put his hand bawdily over his groin. With a flick of the reins, they headed south, toward town. “Let’s take the river road. I here-say there’s a mill.”
    “How’d you find that out?” Marcus caught up so as to ride alongside.
    “One hears a lot at the breakfast table.” Thomas maneuvered his horse where the road had washed away, then raised his eyebrows up and down, and snickered.
    “Aye, no doubt. Free food breeds a loose tongue.” Marcus had to fall behind, single file, so his scowl was for naught.
    “What matters it to you? I thought you brought the whole of Aladdin’s wealth home to England.”
    “And I intend for it to stay that way. At the rate you and my wife are spending my purse, it’ll hardly last out the year.” He kicked a bit of spur into