Page 143 of Laird of Steel
And to her surprise, the king smiled in approval. Indeed, he clasped his hands together with delight. “Brilliant! She shall be the first warrior maid knighted by our hand.”
Merraid couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.
Only when Gellir grinned and gave her a nudge forward did she grasp the truth. She was going to become a knight.
She could hardly contain her pleasure as she tentatively approached the king.
She supposed she should have been prepared. This was why she’d trained so hard for the last four years, after all. And shehadjust proved her loyalty to the king.
Still, it was hard to believe her dream was coming true. And that Gellir had made it so.
Even harder to imagine the King of Scotland himself meant to knight her.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, Malcolm drew a magnificent jeweled sword. “Kneel.”
She lowered herself onto her knees.
The king then lightly tapped her head with the flat of the blade. “In the name of God…” He tapped her left shoulder. “Saint George…” He tapped her right shoulder. “And Saint Michael…” He sheathed his sword and raised his gauntleted right hand. “We hereby lift you to the ranks of knighthood. Never again shall a gauntlet be raised against you without your answering for it.” He then gave a hearty clout to the left side of her neck—not hard enough to knock her over, just hard enough to make her blink—and stepped back. “Rise.”
She stood on shaky legs as the magnitude of what she’d just achieved struck her.
The king raised his arms to the crowd and proclaimed, “With these words, a knight is born.”
Everyone cheered.
Then the king murmured to her, “Do you have a sword?”
Merraid furrowed her brow. She hadn’t brought herjian.And she’d lost the weapon Adam had loaned her.
“Your Grace,” Lady Feiyan said, approaching and unbuckling her own weapon.
Merraid’s throat thickened. It meant everything to have Feiyan’s approval.
The king took the swordbelt from Feiyan and handed it to Merraid. “This is for you,” he said, “a sword from your sister in arms. Use it with wisdom, courage, and devotion.”
Merraid buckled the swordbelt around her hips with trembling fingers while everyone around her cheered again. Even the earls she’d knocked to the ground.
She had never been happier.
Maybe it was Feiyan’s sword she carried, but it was a symbol ofhernew responsibilities.
Maybe it was Adam’s armor she wore, but it representedhernew status.
And maybe she stood beside someone else’s bridegroom, but he was beaming at her as ifshewere his whole world.
Gellir had never felt more proud. The dizzy smile on Merraid’s face and the tears of overwhelming joy standing in her eyes—those brought him more pleasure than any glory on the tournament field.
This was the deep satisfaction that had been missing from his life. All the prizes he’d won, the victories he’d claimed, the honors he’d accrued. They felt hollow compared to the heady thrill he got from seeing his cherished friend achieve her hard-won goal.
The privilege of honor had come easily for Gellir. He was a man. A Rivenloch. The son of a laird.
But Merraid had had to work for every scrap of respect she received. Against all odds, she’d persevered. Despite her womanhood. Despite her humble birth. Despite her social standing. She’d risen to the challenge in a world that sought to thwart her at every turn. And though Gellir had played some small part in helping her take that final step, it was Merraid’s triumph.
Caught up in sharing her victory, Gellir took little notice of what was happening around him. But eventually he noticed a quiet, heated discussion going through the Rivenloch ranks.
It appeared his sister Isabel was stirring up her usual mischief. She was arguing with their mother the laird in a frantic storm of hisses, waving her arms about wildly one moment and begging with clasped hands the next.
Feiyan and Jenefer kept chiming in with their muttered opinions, alternately frowning and crossing their arms, tilting their heads in indecision, and nodding.
