Christopher's POV

As Christopher and Lady Sann walked over to a fire close to them, they could see the men situated around it, sitting on logs and loudly conversing into the night.

There was no sign of the sun as the many fires burning around the battle camp provided the only light against the dark night.

When they were close enough to the group sitting around the fire, everyone turned around to look at them. More so at the beautiful Lady on Christopher's arm.

Just as Christopher had been when he had first seen her, they were all mesmerised by her looks. He cleared his throat in hopes to take the attention away from her but no such luck.

"Gentleman, this is Lady Sann." Christopher introduced to his brothers in arms. These four gentleman sitting before him were the last knights in King William's army other than him. The battle of Hastings had taken a toll on the number of high ranked soldiers. The five of them had been raised up and trained together in Normandy.

The bulky and tall figure of Sir Gavin the Mighty was closest to them and he rose to his feet and gave a quick bow to Lady Sann. "My name is Sir Gavin, Lady Sann, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He had the strength of an ox and a strong face to accompany it with short brown hair that surrounded his face.

Gavin sat back down and the youngest of our group, the brown haired and green eyed Sir Charles stood up. He too, took a bow and quietly said, "Pleasure to meet you milady, my name's Charles." Christopher saw Charles like a little brother and he knew him too well. Right now by the faint pink in Charles' cheeks it was obvious that the presence of a beautiful lady was affecting him. The colour was already rising to the roots of his dark black hair. He evaded his light blue eyes from making contact with the lady.

Charles sat down and next rose the best tracker in the army. His black hair and dark eyes, allowed him to blend into the night easily and complete any task that was assigned to him. Sir Roger the Fox they called him. "My name is Sir Roger milady." Roger said in a deep voice and then took his seat on the log again.

Last but not least, the blonde haired charmer of their group stood up. But instead of following in the rest of the group's footsteps and bowing at his spot, Sir Nick the Ladies Man, took a few steps in Lady Sann and Christopher's direction.

Nick spoke up in a smooth tone, "Sir Nick, at your service milady." Then he brought Sann's hand up to his lips and placed a kiss there without breaking his green eyed gaze.

Christopher desired nothing more than to tear his brother in arms away from the angel but he held his ground. He forcefully gritted his teeth. She was not his, he repeated to himself.

Lady Sann took her hand away from Nick's grasp and slightly leaned in closer to Christopher's side. However small the act was, it brought great pleasure to know Lady Sann preferred Christopher's closeness instead of Nick's advancements.

Somewhat disappointed that he hadn't received the effect he usually had on women, Nick took his seat again in defeat. Christopher could see Roger snickering under his breath at Nick's failure.

Gavin slid over his big body to make room for Christopher and Lady Sann on the log. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Lady Sann told the knights in her melodic voice.

Gavin spoke up in his deep voice, "What do we owe the pleasure of having the company of a beautiful lady such as yourself in the army camp of King William?"

Christopher spoke up for Sann and said, "After this morning's raid on Colchester Castle, I came across Lady Sann in the forest who was in need of help. She had a run in with a group of smugglers."

Charles eyes widened slightly and said, "I'm sorry you had to go through that ordeal Lady Sann. Are you alright?"

Sann nodded her head, "Yes I am quite alright thanks to Sir Christopher." As she sligthly turned and inclined her head to him.

Christopher's cheeks heated a little at hearing her thanks and he desperately tried to hide his cheeks being aflame before his brothers made him a point of mockery.

Nick turned to Christopher and asked, "How is it that you rescue damsel in distress' while the rest of us stays here and wait around for orders, stuck with tedious workforce?"

Christopher shrugged innocently but he couldn't help the grin that was stretching across his face. "It must be fate." He said laughing.

Gavin jokingly shouldered Christopher and the rest of the men laughed at their conversing.

During their interaction on today's events, Roger was filling up wooden bowls with stew from the steel cauldron over the fire. Everyone handed over a bowl and Christopher gave one to Lady Sann.

Lady Sann took over the wooden bowl and looked at the contents. It seemed as she was puzzled by what she was looking at. Christopher leaned in and spoke just low enough that Sann could hear him.

"I'm sure heaven's got better meal options, here in the army camp we mostly only have meat stew." He stopped for a second to think and a thought occurred to him. "Do you eat something else? Do you need sustenance to stay alive? I don't know much about your... kind."

Sann gave a confused look far away as if in thought. "I think I didn't need to eat. But I-I think I'm not my kind anymore." She lowered the wooden bowl onto her lap and looked at her hands. "At least I don't feel like that anymore." She whispered in return.

Christopher wanted to gently place his hand to where Sann was intently gazing at her own and hold her hand to assure her. He had to squeeze his fist to stop the sudden reflex that came over him. He needed to control whatever it came over him when it came to Sann. It was like he wanted an excuse to touch or be near her at every second.

Instead he cleared his throat and extended a wooden spoon towards her. This made her look up into his face. Christopher gave her an encouraging smile saying, "Well, since you might be one of us now, might as well start living like us."

Sann slowly took the wooden spoon into her own hand and gave a slight smile in return.

"Sorry we don't have much to offer but I promise you its not as bad as it looks." He then not so quietly whispered with his hand shielding his mouth in a mocking fashion. "Don't worry Roger cooked instead of Gavin."

Gavin's head swiveled around and he punched Christopher in the shoulder. "Hey! I heard that." Gavin exclaimed. Christopher started laughing. And when he stole a glance in Sann's direction, he saw that she was hiding a smile under her hand too.

"I told you that was one time! I thought that was tumeric!" Gavin exclaimed loudly. "You try to help and this is what you get." He not so silently grumbled to himself. "Never again."

The rest of them were laughing loudly as Gavin tried to justify himself. Christopher had been away from his brothers for five days and although he wouldn't outright admit it, he had missed them. His only family left was these battle worn men riddled with scars. Sitting around the warm fire joshing around felt just like home.

He asked Roger and Gavin about the takeover for Cavendish. They had been sent out a couple days before him to take the land in the name of the King.

"Wasn't that hard. People were already waiting for us. The noblemen were nowhere to be seen. I'm guessing they fled north once they caught wind of the route the army is taking from Pevensey to London. But that's the king's problem not ours." Sir Roger explained as he finished his stew.

Christopher was looking into the fire as he contemplated what Roger said. Most of the country had accepted William's conquest after what happened in Pevensey with the battle of Hastings and the defeat of the English army. But still there were rebellions here and there, claiming the throne for others. Edgar the Aetheling was one of them, despite the submission of almost all of the nobles.

The lilting sound of Sann's voice cut through his reverie, "Who is your king?"

Nick looked confused at Sann. "You don't know about the ongoing battle for the throne of England? A couple months back our army came by ships to the shores of Pevensey from Saint Valery sur Somme." His accent became thicker when he spoke the french name.

Christopher cut in, "Milady probably has the memory loss to blame for it."

Nick absentmindedly nodded his head, seeming to believe Chris' explanation. "Well we all come from Normandy my lady." Nick gestured around him in a wide sweep of his hand and flashed a charming smile. "The army has Normans, french, a petit peu of Brits, Flanders, a lot of mercenaries and people from other parts of Europe." He then gestured to himself and said. "Yours truly mon amour, is undeniably french." He winked in Sann's direction.

Christopher was going to punch him right in the eye one of these days. Nick seemingly unbothered by the daggers being thrown from Christopher's gaze, continued to explain.

"Rogers and Charles here are french too." He pointed with his thumb. "Gavin and Christopher are Normans like our king. But we are all english men now i suppose since the Duke of Normandy became the renowned King of England."

Christopher stole a glance in Sann's direction. She seemed to be listening intently to Nick as he continued his tales about the army and where they came from.

"His name is William. He was the Duke of Normandy when king Edward died earlier this year. And then Earl of Wessex, Harold Godwinson was crowned king, because Edward had no heir and he was the richest of the aristocrats?" Nick paused to expectantly look at Sann. "Does any of this ring any bells?"

Christopher already knew the answer but couldn't stop himself as he too turned to her for her answer. She turned her gaze to the fire and shook her head. A silence among them followed at her answer.

Gavin spoke up, "No worries milady, these are but simple everyday news that you can learn at once. No need to fret about it. And I bet you'll have your memories after a good nights sleep sweeps away the events of today." He gave her an encouraging smile with all of his chest puffed out.

Sann tore her gaze from the fire and gave him a tight lipped smile that seemed to say that she knew better than to believe that. But she made no claims to dispute it.

Christopher took over to explain the rest of their travels, "We came by ship with William, Duke of Normandy at the time and after the battle of Hastings, king Harold was defeated. The army has been travelling from Dover up to Guildford and then to Wallingford in a march to London. He was crowned as King a month ago. He dispatches parts of his armies to quell rebellions to his rule. That's where we come in."

Sann looked at all of them and then turned to Christopher. "Do you willingly follow your king?"

It was such an unexpected question to hear that Christopher had to stop and think for a minute. Did he follow out of his own will? He had been raised as a soldier and holding a sword was all he knew but he didn't have to follow the Duke across the sea and unto these unknown lands. It was the right thing to do, or it was the only thing to do he had felt. He had not seen another option. But now that he thought about it, he felt like he would have done so anyways.

Charles spoke up in the absence of a reply from Christopher. "He was a just Duke while he ruled over Normandy. His subjects are happy and he is no tyrant. He had a claim to the throne and took it. No men is immaculate but he is a good ruler." He was wringing his hands in front of him as he replied. He made no effort to make eye contact with Sann as he kept his eyes on his hands.

She seemed to be satisfied with that answer and continued eating her stew in silence. The conversing continued among the men after that but Sann didn't join in and Christopher kept stealing glances in her direction to maybe get an idea into her thoughts. She was hard to read, her gaze distant and emotions sheltered.

They stayed around the fire until the logs started to fall apart and the embers start to turn into embers. Christopher accompanied Sann back to her tent in silence, the distance between them riddled with an unknown restlessness. The talk around the fire seemingly changing something in Sann's behaviour but he couldn't quite figure it out.

As they reached their tents, Christopher bid her goodnight and turned to the smaller tent next to hers. Maybe he had built it unnecessarily too close to hers.

Sann's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Christopher?" He turned as his name coming out of her lips made the hairs rise on his neck. Her golden eyes were almost luminescent in the darkness of the night and he couldn't help but feel like he was a prey caught in the sight of a predator.

"Would you rise against your king if he was unjust?" She asked in a hushed voice that did nothing to silence the echo that her question created.

"A king is only as powerful as the army that follows him. Injustice is not something swords rally up against, neither does mine." He said without tearing his gaze from hers. And with that, he entered his tent.

———————————

This chapters ending is like 🔥?!?🫠

I'm finally feeling groovy enough to keep going with this book.