That wasn’t good news for Edward. He knew he could give Daniel a good fight, but he worried about his stamina and his tactics in hand to hand combat. It had been years since he’d done such a thing. But as he’d told Cassiopeia, he wasn’t going to run.
He had to stay and fight.
“Well,” he said after a moment. “I suppose you had better help me dress. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
As Paris stood up again, wearily, and went to Edward’s belongings to help him prepare, Hector focused on Edward intently.
“I have been in the field with Daniel several times,” he said. “To tell you the truth, he is not the first man into battle. He likes to sit back and command. He can fight when it is necessary, but I fear that laziness may be one of his weaknesses. My suggestion would be to let the man wear himself out on you. He has promised not to kill you, so you must not kill him, but you must drive him to his knees. If you can get him to the ground and hold him there, that is all you need do. Let him exhaust himself and take advantage of him.”
Edward listened, digested. He was an excellent listener, as that, too, was part of what he did for the king. Often, he listened to irate lords and could determine, from their chatter, what the crux of their issue was. He understood what he needed to do; truthfully, he simply wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Nervous? He wasn’t.
Concerned? Aye, he was.
“I will do my best,” he finally said.
There wasn’t much more to say at that point. He began to unfasten his belt, loosening his tunic. He wasn’t wearing his mail coat, as wearing protection was not a habit with him, so he pulled his belt off and tossed it onto the table as Paris and Hector began to pull out what he would need to properly dress for a fight. As Edward came forward and began putting on his padded tunic, his focus lingered on Cassiopeia for a moment, seeing how frightened she was. Quietly, he spoke to Paris.
“Whatever happens, I have no intention of surrendering my pursuit of Cassie,” he said. “Even if I lose, I will not stop. I will make sure Daniel understands that.”
Paris sighed. “It might not be best to tell him that before you fight him, Eddie,” he said. “If he thinks you will not leave, as he wishes, then he might try to kill you and call it an accident. Reconsider what you will tell the man. You, as a diplomat, know that truth is best when the situation is appropriate.”
Edward knew that. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Paris was probably correct. If Daniel felt that Edward wasn’t going to depart after being defeated, then he might go to drastic measures.
Perhaps, in this case, Paris was right.
The truth would not be well met.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The rain was pouring steadily as Edward, Paris, Hector, and Cassiopeia made their way to the outer bailey of Northwood Castle.
Cassiopeia insisted on coming no matter how hard the men tried to convince her otherwise. This was about her, after all, and she would not be kept from something that directly affected her.
Paris wasn’t happy about it in the least. Daniel was intent on making a spectacle of his challenge to Edward, waiting directly in front of the gatehouse with a crowd already gathering to watch whatever was happening. No one really knew because Daniel wouldn’t lower himself to speak with any of the Northwood men. They clustered near the gatehouse, watching Deauxville Mount’s captain stand there with a sword in his hand, waiting.
The rain increased and the wind began to whip about, blowing the rain sideways as Edward sized up Daniel from several feet away. Daniel was tall and wiry, a knight in peak condition. Edward wasn’t in terrible condition, considering he followed a regimen that had been instilled in him as a young squire, set forth by the master knights at Wolfe’s Lair, where he had trained in his youth. Men who were tough but fair, and men who stressed the importance of maintaining one’s physique.
Edward was glad he’d listened to them.
There had been sword play involved back then along with wood chopping to build muscles, wrestling, hand to hand combat, and resistance training by lifting stones or pieces of wood that were weighted. Edward had long given up the sword play, but he would still wrestle from time to time and he regularly engaged in resistance training. He had an old master knight long ago who even liked his charges to run distances in order to keep up their stamina, and Edward did that from time to time, too.
Therefore, he was in good condition as far as non-warriors went, certainly much better than a lot of men, but he knew Daniel’s skill set with the sword would be at its peak. As the wind whipped about and the rain pounded, Edward stepped away from Hector and Paris, and the rest of the men who had gathered – including Adam and another old knight who had served with William de Wolfe by the name of Deinwald Ellsrod – and held up his hands to Daniel to show that he was not armed. With his hands lifted, he slowly made his way towards Daniel.
“I am unarmed,” he said loudly, succinctly. “May I speak with you?”
Daniel didn’t move. “There is nothing to say, Edward.”
Edward came to a halt. He didn’t want to get too much closer lest Daniel lash out at him. “Daniel, I find myself in a peculiar position,” he said. “Up until an hour ago, we were friends. Your turn against me is most puzzling but now I understand you believe I was untruthful to you with my intention towards Lady Cassiopeia. I assure you that when we spoke at The Lyceum, and I told you that you were about to ruin your life by pursuing her, I meant every word of it. My interest in her came well after. I am sorry if you feel I was dishonest with you, but this is no way to settle that issue.”
Daniel shifted on his long legs. “I will not debate this with you, Edward.”
“And if I refuse to fight?”
“Then I will be the only one fighting and you will take a beating.”
Edward regarded him, struggling not to become angry about this. Daniel was being unreasonable, stubbornly so, and it didn’t make any sense to him. After a moment, he shook his head.
“What is this really about?” he asked quietly. “What are you so angry at that you would take it out on me?”
“Will you claim your weapon or not?”
“Are you in that much of a hurry to fight me?”
“I will not stand here all night talking, which is what you will do in order to delay the inevitable.”
Edward was quickly losing his patience, which was unusual for him. But he simply couldn’t understand why Daniel had turned on him as if they were the worst of enemies. His eyes narrowed.
“Fine,” he said, his voice low. “Have it your way. Fight me if you wish, but I am not going to fight you. I have no reason to, and you have no reason to hate me as you have evidently decided you do, so if you want to fight me, then beat down a man who will not strike back. You will shame yourself in front of all of these witnesses by fighting someone who will not respond to whatever imagined and stupid anger you seem to be harboring. Go ahead, Daniel. If you want to beat me, then get on with it. Show us what a big, powerful man you are.”
It was an insult, an arrow straight into Daniel’s pride, but Edward did it for a reason. He wanted to provoke the man, to see if he was really going to lash out at him knowing that he wouldn’t fight back. When Daniel didn’t move right away, Edward lifted a dark eyebrow.
“What?” he said, nearly taunting the man. “Do I sense hesitation? If you are going to kill me in cold blood, then get on with it, because I will not lift a weapon to you. I will not defend myself. Go ahead and do what you need to do, Daniel, because you are going to look like a fool. An idiot who refuses to discuss a problem and would rather let his weapon speak for him. But no matter how great you think you are, you will never be in the same league as my father or my brothers or the other knights of Northwood. You’re a nameless knight from a bereft house. Go on, strike me down. In the end, I will be braver than you could ever hope to be.”
For the longest time, they just stood and stared at ea
ch other. The tension in the air was splitting; everyone felt it. Cassiopeia stood next to her father, watching with horror as the rain soaked her, and the rest of the Northwood men were quite anxious to see what Daniel would do. Edward was backing him into a corner, insulting him, and no one could imagine that Daniel was going to stand for that for very long.
But Daniel didn’t move. He simply stood there, watching Edward like a hawk, pondering the man’s words and trying to decide what to do about it.
Then, the action came.
Daniel charged Edward, lifting his sword and clearly going in for a strike. As Cassiopeia gasped in terror, Edward had enough time to move aside and stick out a foot, tripping Daniel in a very simple and most undignified manner. Daniel went down and because of the rain on his gloves, his sword went sliding out of his grip, right to Hector’s feet. Hector quickly picked up the weapon and handed it over to Paris.
Daniel leapt to his feet.
“Give me my sword,” he demanded.
Paris shook his head. He didn’t even utter a word. He simply stood there and shook his head. Enraged, Daniel turned on Edward, who was several feet away from him, and charged him again.
This time, he didn’t fall for the foot Edward stuck out again.
This time, he drove a fist right into Edward’s face.
Edward stumbled back, slipping in the mud, and Daniel was right on top of him, driving another fist into his head and sending him to the ground. As Edward fell, he landed in such a way that Daniel, who was literally on top of him, was able to pin his arms beneath his knees. Unable to defend his head, Edward received blow after blow from Daniel’s big fists.
Cassiopeia screamed.
“Stop him, Papa! He is going to kill Edward!”
Edward was at a bad disadvantage and Paris knew if he didn’t do something, Daniel would, indeed, kill him. He motioned to Hector, and the two of them started to move, but Daniel suddenly pushed himself off of Edward and, in the same move, unsheathed a dagger that was at his belt. He pulled the half-conscious Edward up by the hair, putting the dagger across his throat.
“Do not come any closer,” he bellowed. “I told you that I would not kill Edward, but if you come any closer, you leave me with no choice. Get back!”
Hector and Paris came to a dead halt, eyeing Daniel as the man held a razor-sharp blade to Edward’s neck. As they backed away hesitantly, Daniel tossed the dagger aside and yanked Edward up by his hair. Edward was only barely conscious from the beating to the head he’d just received, so when Daniel grabbed him by the arm and sling-shotted him into the wall of the gatehouse, he had no way to really defend himself. He hit the wall hard, collapsing into the mud.
But Daniel was right there, yanking him up and tossing him again, following him around and kicking him for good measure. Cassiopeia began to cry and because Daniel had tossed the dagger away, Paris was more apt to approach him.
He couldn’t let the fight go on.
“De Motte,” he boomed. “Cease this instant!”
Daniel was in the process of kicking Edward in the kidneys, but at Paris’ sharp tone, he came to an unsteady halt. As he looked up, Paris was marching towards him, shoving him back and away from Edward.
“This is over,” Paris hissed. “Get out of my sight.”
Daniel backed away, tripping backwards in the mud because Paris shoved him again. Shoved by the man whose daughter he wanted to marry. And that was what it took for Daniel to realize he’d very nearly destroyed everything he was working for.
What have I done?
God, what had happened to him? Had he lost his mind? He’d gone after Edward as if he hated the man when all he was trying to do was fight for what he wanted…
Fight!
Fighting for Cassiopeia, for the plans he’d spent years laying the groundwork for, and now it was on the verge of ruin because he thought fighting Edward had been the way to accomplish his goals. He’d been so angry to realize Edward was an unexpected obstacle that he hadn’t been thinking right. All he could think of was removing Edward and then there would be no one standing between him and Cassiopeia.
But his rage had the better of him.
Daniel realized that now. Looking at Edward as Paris and Hector pulled the dazed, beaten man out of the mud, he realized he’d nearly ruined everything. Temporary madness, misguided motives… whatever it was, he prayed he hadn’t ruined everything. He’d acted like a madman.
God, let me salvage this!
“Oh, my God,” he finally hissed, sloshing across the mud. “Edward… Edward, what have I done? Edward, can you hear me?”
Paris was pushing him out of the way. “Leave me, de Motte. I do not wish to see you.”
Daniel could see the expression on Paris’ face and it sent him into a panic. “My lord, I didn’t not realize… anger overtook me. I am so very sorry. Please… please believe me. Forgive me. I did not mean it.”
No one was listening to him. They were all hauling Edward up and carrying him towards the keep. Daniel could hear Cassiopeia weeping softly as she followed her father and brother towards Northwood’s enormous keep. Edward would not be sleeping in the knights’ quarters this evening; he was being taken inside to be tended.
The soldiers who had been watching the fight began to clear out, returning to their posts, leaving Daniel standing there alone as he watched everyone carry Edward back to the keep. But the truth was that Daniel had never known such desperation in his life.
God, please don’t let this be the end of everything I’ve worked for!
Staggering after the group, he followed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
He said he wouldn’t give up his pursuit of Cassiopeia.
But now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to face her again.
Edward had been awake for some time, listening to the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and the soft voices of people coming in and out of the chamber. He could hear Cassiopeia, and Paris, and he thought he heard old Deinwald and his gruff, distinctive voice. The man was one of the more unpleasant people around, and always had been, even back when he was a knight in William’s stable. But he was loyal to the core and a fair man, but he could hear how unhappy Deinwald was about what had transpired.
Truth be told, Edward wasn’t happy about it, either.
The horrible part was that even though he had been dazed through most of it, he had been somewhat aware of what was going on. Aware that he was being beaten in front of Cassiopeia. He didn’t care that Paris had witnessed it, or Hector, or even Deinwald. Nay, that didn’t matter to him because they were men and he didn’t have to prove himself.
But Cassiopeia… all he’d proven was that he wasn’t any good in a fight.
He couldn’t even hold his own against Daniel.
Aye, he’d taunted the man. He’d talked a good talk but, evidently, that was all he was capable of. He certainly couldn’t defend himself, so how in the hell could he defend a wife if he took one? He’d never been so humiliated in his entire life and it was a crippling realization. No de Wolfe had ever been beaten like that, he was certain. His brothers were all such skilled and stalwart men.
And then there was him.
He couldn’t even last more than a few moments in a fight.
So, he lay there and listened to the sounds around him, pondering what had happened. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been ready for Daniel’s aggression in any way, unprepared to be defeated in shame. He’d genuinely thought he could hold his own, but the way things had happened, it had been a sound defeat in front of a woman he very much wanted to impress.
Now, he was simply ashamed.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone or see anyone. He feigned unconsciousness, hoping they would simply leave him alone at some point, but his friends and family were diligent with their care of him. His head wounds were tended carefully, by Cassiopeia he suspected. The touch was light and gentle. He was never left alone at any time, but when Deinwald came to relieve Cassiope
ia because her mother insisted that she sleep a few hours, Edward finally showed signs of life.
When the chamber door closed softly and Cassiopeia’s footfalls faded away, Edward stirred and rolled onto his back. One eye was swollen shut, but he could see well enough from the other eye and he found himself looking into Deinwald’s unhappy face.
The truth was that Deinwald always looked unhappy, so it was difficult to tell if he was concerned or simply irritated that he was sitting at the bedside of a beaten man. Like he had better things to do. But the old knight peered at him.
“Well?” he said. “Do you see one or two of me?”
Edward blinked. “One,” he said. “All we need is one of you, Deinwald. If there were two of you, God help us.”
That caused the old man to crack a smile. “I see that you have the de Wolfe bad humor,” he said. “Can you move everything? Do you feel as if anything is broken?”
Edward grunted as he moved his head from side to side slightly, moved his arms, hands, legs. “Nothing is broken,” he said. “How long have I been unconscious?”
Deinwald moved to pour him some watered wine from a pitcher next to the bed. “Sunrise is an hour away,” he said, helping Edward lift his head to drink. “My wife will come at sunrise to tend you.”
Edward took a few sips of the wine, pushing it away as he shook his head. “Nay,” he rasped. “No more women. No tending. I do not need anyone.”
Deinwald eyed him as he set the cup down. “Someone needs to help you,” he said. “In case you haven’t realized it, you had your arse beaten soundly.”
Edward’s head fell back on the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t my arse, but my head,” he muttered. “He… he caught me off-guard.”
Deinwald nodded faintly. “He certainly did,” he said. “I saw it. He pinned your arms and that was the end of it.”
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