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EXCERPT
EMERALD KNIGHT
By
Michelle M. Pillow
Dedication:
To Luna Sloop, whose
daughter Amelia loves her very much. Happy 91st Birthday!
To Amelia, a wonderful
woman with a great heart.
To Pam, Jenny and Alma,
whose kindness is very much appreciated.
Author Note
This novel spans the course of many years and many countries. The goal is to
tell a story of two people, not to dwell upon the historical details or to make
assumptions about such political and religious events like the Holy Crusades. I
have made much of the historical details, such as costuming and dates, accurate
but did take some liberties with fictional settings and historical figures.
Though certain events surrounding the story are factual, the characters,
circumstances, locations and the story itself are a complete work of fiction and
are by no way intended to reflect the actual lives of historical figures. Nor is
this novel a treatise or parody of modern or historical political and religious
views.
For some, love comes
swiftly at first glance, for those most stubborn it can take a lifetime...
Prologue
Whetshire Fortress,
Wessex, 1171 A.D.
Baron Southaven raised his proud blue eyes from the sheepskin parchment. His
quill dripped with ink as he set it aside. As he blew lightly over the bold
flourish of his signature, a satisfied smile lined his mouth. Then, dripping wax
onto the paper, he slipped his ring from his finger and pressed his seal onto
the agreement. Next to him his wife, Lady Southaven, clapped happily. He placed
the crest back onto his hand. It was done. The endless fortnights of negotiation
since the birth of his daughter had finally ended to the satisfaction of both
houses.
“It’s decided then,” the Earl of Whetshire announced with a solemn nod.
Wolfe’s head snapped up. In all his eight years he had never been so mortified.
His father’s stern voice expressed neither anger nor pleasure at the decision.
Though, by all indications, the man was pleased with the match. Turning to look
down the floor of the main hall, the earl squinted in the dimmed torchlight. The
hour was late and the fire had dwindled to a soft heat.
Wolfe stood dutifully with his two brothers awaiting his father’s command.
Thomas, the oldest, held his head high and proud. Wolfe, standing next to him,
swallowed nervously and kicked at the floor. William, the youngest, grinned
sheepishly as if nothing concerned him. Their sister’s giggle broke the silence,
as she sat on the lap of the baron’s only son. Robert’s gentle laugh followed
hers.
The earl sighed as he watched his sons. Motioning to Wolfe, he commanded
gruffly, “Wolfram, come kiss your betrothed’s lips and seal this match.”
Wrinkling his nose and stiffening his legs, his feet refused to move. His
brothers chuckled mockingly behind the backs of their hands. Thomas knocked him
forward with a swift punch to his back. Wolfe spun to his older brother with a
fierce growl.
“I’ll get you fer that, Thomas!” Wolfe hissed, raising his fists in warning.
“I’ll wallop you good!”
Thomas just laughed harder. Being the oldest and the heir, he wasn’t too
concerned. Even though he was only two years older, he had grown well over Wolfe
in size. He smiled confidently down from his impressive height. “Yea, Wolfe, go
kiss your bride.”
“Wolfram?”
Lady Isabella called when her son hadn’t moved. The countess’ voice was loud and
booming compared to the stern tone of her husband. She pushed her flaming red
hair back from her forehead as she watched her children expectantly.
“Yea, you’d better hope she don’t spit up on you!” William chimed in. He too was
rewarded with a dark scowl.
Slowly, Wolfe stepped forward. His dark brown hair fell in front of his eyes as
he looked solemnly up at his parents. Both they, the baron and baroness watched
him expectantly from across the hall. Before having taken two steps, a foot
jutted in front of him. He tumbled to the ground. Glancing up from the straw
rushes in anger, he glared at his snickering older brother.
“I
warned you, Thomas!” Wolfe hollered. He forgot his father’s command as he glared
at his attacker. Jumping to his feet, he charged Thomas in the waist. He rammed
his head into his brother’s chest and knocked him to the ground with the
unexpected force. Thomas slid across the straw rushes that lined the hall floor,
as Wolfe howled atop him.
Wolfe swung for his brother’s jaw, his fist glancing off Thomas’ cheek with a
reverberating smack. William shouted in pleasure. Thomas fought back. He rolled
Wolfe amidst flying fists that quickly found their mark. Wolfe grunted as Thomas
clapped the side of his head and Thomas protested loudly when Wolfe tried to
bite his finger off. The digit had strayed too close to his younger brother’s
opened mouth.
The battle ended as fast as it begun. Wolfe grunted in protest as he was lifted
off of Thomas. His feet kicked in the air only to land with a heavy thud on the
stone floor. Neither boy was badly bruised, only disheveled from the fray.
Guiltily, Wolfe wiped his bloodied mouth and looked at his father, his eyes
pleading for parental mercy. It was not to be.
“Attend your duties, son.” The earl pointed to the head table where the adults
waited patiently. Wolfe kicked the ground in anger, as he was made to kiss his
future bride. Thomas and William laughed in delight as he was made to walk up to
the platform. The earl ignored his snickering sons and followed closely behind
Wolfe.
As
he stepped up to the head dining table, Wolfe ignored the rolled parchment next
to the small wooden bassinet. The paper served only as a reminder of things he
couldn’t control. Frowning, he glanced at his sister Helena. She had crawled off
Robert’s lap and played on the floor near his feet. She looked up at him and
giggled in childish amusement. His frown deepened into a scowl.
“Go on,” Robert encouraged in a whisper. His young green eyes shone with
understanding, as Wolfe leaned over the cradle to see his sister. It was obvious
he didn’t think much of kissing Ginevra either. “Hurry, afore she wakes up and
starts to bawl.”
The boys’ mothers shared modest smiles. Wolfe gulped. Leaning over, he studied
his future wife--a round baby clad in soft yellow. She was only as long as his
arm, with pudgy, pink cheeks that puffed out from her tiny nose. Her lips
puckered to suck in dreamlike abandon. Grimacing, he shook his head in denial
and took a defiant step back.
“Why do I have to marry ’er? Why can’t I give ’er to Thomas? He’s the oldest.
He’s the one who’s goin’ to need a wife.” Wolfe glanced dejectedly to his
mother, who only smiled and nodded her head for him to follow his father’s
order. Already he knew the answer. Thomas wouldn’t be bound by such an agreement
because he was the oldest. The earl wanted to be sure they left Thomas’ option
open in case there was a shift of politics. And Wolfe, being the second oldest,
was the most logical of choices to unite the manors of Whetshire and Southaven.
It would strengthen the ties of the land and help to build a secure future for
all those involved.
Understanding didn’t make it easier.
With a sigh, he glanced back down. Ginevra’s eyes opened. The round green orbs
looked at him curiously from underneath silky black lashes. Quickly, he puckered
his lips as he leaned over to kiss the baby’s soft cheek. The baroness flushed
and laid her hand proudly over her heart. The men nodded in satisfaction as they
clasped hands.
Ginevra gurgled and her lips twitched into a softened, toothless smile. Drool
spilled over her lips and chin. Wolfe felt himself melt a little as he looked at
her. But, then, he hardened as he heard the snickering laughter of his two
brothers behind him. His face turned into a disgusted scowl.
“She smells!” he exclaimed loudly with an offended wrinkle to his nose. Ginevra
began to cry, her tiny fists pounding her displeasure into the air. Her shrill
voice rang over the hall, as her mother rushed forward to lift her into the
protective enclosure of her arms. Wolfe ignored his bride and stalked from the
table to once again pummel his brother.
© copyright November
2005, Michelle M. Pillow
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the
author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living
persons or events is merely coincidence.
BUY EBOOK
REVIEWS
"5 HEARTS! Ms. Pillow
succeeded in bringing her words to life. This book breathes, screams, and
compels you to finish it. This is a spectacular Epic story about love
growing in spite of everything a love separated by duty, age, time and the
very natures of Wolfe and Gin. This story captures your attention until you
can no longer remember that Gin and Wolfe are characters instead of living
souls. Awesome, do not miss!" Sara Sawyer, TRS, January 28, 2006
"Pillow
puts a lot of action in a small amount of space, but the ultimate result is
a wonderful blend of conflict and love." Faith V. Smith
RT BOOKreviews, July 2006
"4 1/2 Stars! ...a beautifully crafted story." Candy, Ecataromance
June 2006
"4 Blue Ribbons! An entertaining
read. Once again, Ms. Pillow doesn't disappoint." Romance Junkies, Feb 2006
"4 HEARTS! Michelle M. Pillow knows
how to write a truly exciting, flourishing and romantic historical."
Valerie, Love Romances, Feb 2006
AWARDS
AND RANKINGS
#2 Bestselling Ebook Fictionwise April 2006 (all genres)
#2 Bestselling Romance Ebook Fictionwise
#12 Highest rated Ebook Fictionwise April 2006 (all genres)
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