Page 91 of The Blacksmith

After the tense talk with her parents last eve, her mother had whisked her away to her bedchamber. They’d spoken of posting banns and of the wedding, which they’d agreed should happen as quickly as possible.

Idalia and Lance would be leaving the moment the vows were exchanged, a fact that both scared and excited her. Despite her conviction to leave with Lance, she knew little of what she was running toward.

But that would change.

Now.

Lance tied off the horses and turned to her. If not for all of the uncertainty that still lingered between them, this could be the perfect day. It was certainly the perfect spot.

The sun actually shone through the clouds, and they were surrounded by willow trees. As soon as it had been decided they’d be visiting Tuleen this afternoon, she’d known exactly where she wished to stop. Although she’d expected a chaperone to be with them.

Thank goodness Tilly had decided to give them space.

Lance closed the distance between them in just a few strides. When he pulled her to him, his kiss was insistent and all-consuming. She returned it, for a time, but eventually pulled away.

“Sit with me,” she said, gesturing to the bank of the river.

“With pleasure.” Lance pulled out a small blanket from his horse’s saddlebag. After spreading it out across the grass, he held out a hand to her.

“Do you always travel so prepared?” she asked as she sat with his assistance.

“Aye.”

Idalia wasn’t surprised by his answer. Lance did always seem prepared for what lay ahead.

“What is the Order of the Broken Blade?” she blurted out.

Lance grabbed her hand and squeezed. She loved when he did that.

“Your father only knows that is an order of knights. Myself, Guy, Terric, and a man named Conrad Saint-Clair.”

“The Earl of Licheford?”

“Aye, the same.”

“And Terric?”

“Chief of Clan Kennaugh of Bradon Moor.”

“The one you said would keep us safe, if need be?”

“Idalia.” Lance squeezed her hand again. “I will keep you safe. You will not be in danger, ever. I promise you that. But if we need to take precautions, leave England for a time? Aye, Terric’s clan will welcome us.”

She still had so many questions.

“The four of us have pledged to end the king’s reign. Or to at least force him to cease such policies as kidnapping for failure to pay exorbitant taxes.”

“I mean no disrespect—”

“Why a blacksmith and a mercenary?”

She hadn’t intended to ask that way, but it did seem a curious combination.

“We each have our reasons.” Lance stood.

Idalia watched him take something from the same sack from which he’d removed the blanket. This was a hard object wrapped in a cloth. When he dropped it at her feet and then proceeded to sit beside her and unwrap it, Idalia did not know what to make of it. A sword hilt. Ornate, obviously of fine craftsmanship.

She looked up and waited for him to explain.