The Black Lyon

make the boy in your own image.”
    “Aye, and our Lioness will adore us both.”
    “I fear you know me too well.”
    This time, when Lyonene nursed her son, Maularde discreetly turned away.
    “He is a fine boy, is he not?” Ranulf bragged.
    “Aye, my lord. The strongest I have seen at his age. I wonder if it could be the great mop of hair?”
    “What think you of being the boy’s godfather?”
    Maularde was speechless for a moment. “I would be honored,” he said in his quiet voice. “In truth, I do not feel myself worthy of such honor.”
    Lyonene covered her breast and held the sleeping child against her, toying with a lock of black hair that was beginning to curl beneath his little ears. “I think you have earned the honor, since you helped bring the child to the world. Not many godfathers can claim such a deed.”
    The dark knight smiled. “I will love the boy as my own, you can be sure.”
    “I think you begin to already,” Ranulf said and then was quiet as he listened. “Someone comes.” Ranulf drew his sword and Maularde pulled himself to his feet, braced against the sharp stones of the cottage wall. He put himself between Lyonene and the door.
    As Ranulf stood on the threshold, he looked in question to his guardsman. “While there is life in me,” was the grim answer.
    Lyonene sat quietly, protecting Montgomery from even a thought of harm. She looked quickly at the back of Maularde and saw his leg had begun to bleed again. Yet he stood firmly, disregarding the pain and the fresh tearing of the wound, faithful to his duty to protect his mistress and his new lord.
    “Hail the Black Guard!” They heard Ranulf’s voice from somewhere above the crude cottage, a hidden place where he watched and prepared for attack. He dropped to the ground before the narrow door and then disappeared as he ran to greet his men.
    Maularde sat down again, heavily, keeping his leg straight before him. He allowed the pain to show on his face. He gave Lyonene a timid grin. “ ’Twere I alone I fear I would set up a howl. It is good that I am in your presence.”
    She could not return his smile, knowing his light words did not cover his pain. They could hear the laughter of Ranulf and his men. How Ranulf had changed in the last year! Maularde seemed to read her thoughts and they shared a smile.
    “We have a visitor,” Ranulf said. “Nay, he is a most welcome visitor and I was well able to handle him alone. He is a strong warrior. Already his strength has frightened me.”
    The Guard were silent, not understanding their lord’s words.
    “Maularde,” Corbet called. “Are you finished now with your shamming and ready to return to work? My lady, I did not see you at once…” He halted as he saw the babe.
    Sainneville looked in puzzlement at Corbet, wondering what could ever silence such a man. He also stared at the tiny black-haired infant, who slept in his mother’s arms.
    As each man of the Black Guard entered the room, he paused and then dropped to one knee, head bowed. It was a full moment and a great tribute to Ranulf as first one man and then another kissed the little hand and paid homage to their lord’s heir. Lyonene blinked back the tears at this honor. She saw also that Ranulf’s jaw seemed to be less securely held than usual; indeed, it seemed to tremble.
    “Hail to the son of the Earl of Malvoisin,” they shouted, the stones quivering with the resonance of their voices. Montgomery did not care for the noise and set up a howl that was easily heard above the men’s voices.
    Ranulf smiled at his son proudly. “I fear the boy does not like you as well as I, my men.”
    Corbet recovered his voice. “Well, it has taken almost a year exactly for this son, from the day of your marriage to now. You have won us a few wagers, my lord.”
    Ranulf frowned a moment in puzzlement and then grinned. “I will guess that Dacre has a hand in this. I shall be glad to see him pay. If he seems reluctant, I will gladly help you collect.”
    Lyonene looked away, pretending not to understand their words, but secretly vowing to someday repay Lord Dacre for his presumption.
    Ranulf stepped forward and gently took the boy from her. He took him outside and his men followed. She went to the window and watched as her husband proudly unwrapped the boy and displayed him to his men. She could hear his boasts of the boy’s strengths. It made her warm to see the tenderness, the protective way Ranulf held his son.
    A fire