Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) by Lauren Linwood

and delighted with Alys’s interest.
    “Grandmother
needs more barley water,” Alys informed her as they strolled along. “She said
her head aches from a springtime cold.”
    “Help me
remember. What do we put into the sester of boiling water besides barley?”
    “I know!”
Alys cried, her smile wide. “We add two parisis of licorice and some figs. And
then let the water boil till the barley bursts.”
    “Then we
strain it with cloth and add a bit of what?”
    “Sugar.”
    “Crystallized
sugar. That’s right. Drinking barley water will help Grandmother’s head cold to
clear up.”
    Alys
skipped along then stopped. “Black medick.” She picked a handful and placed
that inside Merryn’s basket. Alys grabbed her hand and took off, tugging her
mother along till she stopped again for more woodland flowers.
    “We need to
visit Hugh and Milla soon,” Merryn informed her.
    “Oh, we can
take something for Milla’s cough. We’ll need licorice again.” Alys’s face
scrunched up as she thought. “But I don’t know what else.”
    “We’ll add
vinegar to the ground licorice.”
    Alys
laughed. “And honey. I remember now. Because we put it on the fire and warm it
till the licorice dissolves. Then you put in the honey so it won’t be bitter.”
    Merryn
stroked the girl’s hair. “That right, my love. You are certainly learning
quickly. You know more at your age than I did when I was twice that.”
    “I get to
be six soon. When, Mother?”
    “August.”
    “A rabbit!”
Alys took off again, chasing the small animal.
    Merryn
thought back to that scorching August day. How huge her belly had swollen
during the summer months. She could scarcely breathe and could only manage
shallow breaths those last two weeks. Then her water broke, and the long labor
began.
    Her hand
came to rest on her stomach. She wondered if she would bear more children
someday. If she would marry Sir Symond Benedict. She believed it to be what the
king wanted. He had exercised extreme patience with her, but she knew from his
missive that he intended her wedded and bedded to Sir Symond. And soon.
    What would
that be like? Repeating the same vows before God that she’d spoken with
Geoffrey as she looked into the face of a red-bearded man. Speaking the words
that would bind her to a stranger.
    Merryn knew
in her heart that the words would be uttered, but she would always belong heart
and soul to Geoffrey. She might grow to like—mayhap even love—this Symond. But
no one would take the place of her first, true love.
    She glanced
at her daughter. More love burst from her. Even though Geoffrey was gone, his
legacy lived on.
    “Pink
sorrels. And lilacs. Hurry, Mother. We must pick some. Grandmother loves
lilacs. She told me to look for them today, and they’re here. Look at the
blooms.” Alys scampered ahead to the edge of the forest.
    Merryn
followed, humming under her breath. She spied some chamomile and bent to pick
it. She liked using it for fatigue and fevers, but it came in most handy to
ease birthing pains. She always liked to keep her store of it full. It seemed a
new babe decided to be born somewhere on Kinwick lands every other week.
    “Ancel
skinned his knee this morning. He didn’t tell you.”
    “How did he
do that?” Merryn asked.
    Alys
wrinkled her nose. “He was showing off. He had the wooden sword Raynor made. He
jumped on a wall and swung it around, pretending to be a knight. I told him a
girl could be a knight, but he laughed at me and ran. And then he fell. And it
looked terrible, Mother. There was blood. And he cried like a baby. Knights
don’t cry. I told him so.”
    “I shall
see to it when we return.” She gave Alys an appraising glance. “Did you offer
to tend it for him?”
    “No.” Her
bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “I was mad. Can’t a girl be a knight, Mother? I
am brave. Raynor could make me a sword and show me how to fight.”
    Merryn
ruffled her hair. “I think you are a very brave girl, Alys. And