Greenwood Knight

Chapter 15

"Do you not remember me, my lord? It is I, Gwyndolyn. Your men stayed at my father's farm on your way north, to battle..."

Erec blinked again. now that he had surrendered, fatigue was woe to let him free of its grasp. The great amount of wine the baron foisted upon him fogged his head and did nothing to help his struggle to recall the young woman.

Joy his conscience whispered.

With a shake of his head, he tried to clear the fog from his mind even as he tried to rub the fog from his bleary eyes with a calloused hand. Blinking once...and again...he finally focused.

"The farmer's daughter." His words were slurred and he found he was incapable of further speech—or even a thought beyond that simple recognition.

"Yes, my lord. Gwyndolyn. I am the dau—" She sopped suddenly and corrected "was—I was the daughter of the farmer." She offered him a sad smile as she reached for him.

"Let me help you, milord." She said as she reached for the clasp that held his cloak.

Her nimble fingers made short work of removing his weapons and slipped the belt smoothly away. It took her a little longer to figure out the buckles for the armor pieces, but she managed rather well, he thought.

In his current state, he could only manage to bend forward and lift his arms so she could pull the Surcoat over his head. A small hand pressed on gently on his shoulder as he moved to stand up again.

"Nay, my lord. Stay. You are much too tall. You must stay seated if I am to remove the chainmail and doublet for you."

Even in his drunken state he noticed that she said nothing of the stockings or the under garments. And though he was too drunk to do anything about it, he thought about it. Even as he had thought about it that day they sat together by the hearth. He was a knight...

But he was no monk! She was a beautiful woman; soft and warm.

...and she smelled of honey.

Gwyndolyn still could not believe that out of the two score and ten soldiers staying at Brecken Moors Hall, she was assigned to HIM. But if it seemed a dream, the weight of his chainmail was real enough. With a groan he finally tugged his wrists free and she took the full weight of it.

At last, there was reason to be glad of all the physical labors she was forced into, or she would not have been able. Even so, it was rather bulky and there was no convenient place to grab hold as she lifted the awkward mound of metal mesh and moved it off to the side.

Seeing no place to set it, she dropped it near the wall with a thud and turned to see him swaying on his feet.

"My Lord." She hurried back and placed a steadying hand on his elbow. "I told you to remain seated, but alas...now you shall have to bend so that I may reach."

He swayed and stumbled back a half-step. Quickly she grabbed a fist full of his doublet to steady him.

"Please do be careful, my lord. You are very close to the bed. If you step too far back, you shall fall upon it and I should never be able to free you of this doublet."

He did not reply, but he grabbed her elbow and held fast until he stopped swaying. He did not release her until she moved to tug at the doublet ties near his throat.

Her sweet voice reached out and soothed his weary soul. Her soft hands gently tugged at the ties. Erec sighed, closing his eyes as he thought of the woman attached to those hands. With his eyes closed against reality, his hands grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. But he pulled too hard and she stumbled into him.