Penruth Castle stood on a hill surrounded by moorland, the river that created its moat rolling south toward the sea. To the west rose a hill crested with thick, dark woods. On this fateful morning, Kenrick sat astride his destrier in the woods, his wife and squire beside him. Standing behind and around them were over a hundred hooded Penruth villagers. They carried scythes and rakes and hay hooks as they waited with eerie silence. The morning was heavily overcast, and the darkly garbed hooded men were almost invisible in the shadows.
Ariane sat quietly on her palfrey, wrapped in her fur-lined mantle and wearing an abstracted expression. He knew she was worried, but there was nothing he could say that would relieve her fears. Earlier, she’d been in dragon form as if she intended to fight by his side, but as Magnus said, this battle must be between human men.
Giles was on Kenrick’s other side. Tied to his saddletree was a rope that held Hob, the mercenary, on a long tether. Hob was willing to bear witness in return for his life, but Kenrick thought it best not to allow the rogue a chance to escape.
Trumpets blared across the moor and the outer gate of Penruth Castle was raised. Kenrick came to full alertness as a gaily colored procession rode out, banners flying. Dozens of farm folk had gathered outside the gates to watch the sight. Lord William’s broad form was visible at the head of the column. He wore full armor and was followed by a dozen knights and a dozen more men-at-arms. Kenrick saw no young girls in the entourage, but perhaps Lord William had left his daughter in the castle.
Kenrick waited until the procession was well outside the castle and the gate had been lowered. As he waited, some of the hooded men drifted from the woods to join the onlookers. “It is time,” he said quietly as he gathered his reins.
“Go with God, my dearest husband!” Ariane touched his gauntleted hand, her face pale but composed.
Kenrick inclined his head to her, then spurred his horse out of the woods and down the hill. Giles followed more slowly because he led Hob, who was on foot.
“Halt, William of Penruth!” Kenrick shouted as he thundered into the road in front of the baron. The procession ground to a halt, wagons creaking and riders milling in confusion.
Twenty paces from William, Kenrick reined in his mount and said in his most commanding voice, “Lord William of Penruth, you have hired mercenaries to slaughter your own people while laying blame on a dragon lord! I charge you with murder, treachery, and betrayal of your sacred trust. For your crimes against God and man, I challenge you to judicial combat, here and now!”
There was an audible gasp from the listeners and heads swung to look at their lord. William’s eyes narrowed as he studied his accuser. “Kenrick of Rathbourne,” he snarled. “I thought you were dead. Instead, you’ve run mad. Out of my way, or I’ll have my men kick you aside like a rabid dog!”
“You will not brush me off so easily. I have proof of my charges.” Giles reached Kenrick’s side, the tethered Hob panting beside him. Kenrick continued, “This man can testify that you hired him and his fellows to burn and kill your own people.”
A ripple of unease ran through the entourage, and several of the men-at-arms frowned. All must know of the raids, but no sane person would suspect his own lord.
Hob raised his head and said brusquely, “Sir Kenrick speaks truth! I and thirteen other mercenaries were hired to attack local villages after they had been set aflame by a dragon. The dragon did not harm the villagers, that was our job. All of us, including the dragon, were hired by him!” He raised his bound hands and pointed at William.
The baron’s face turned a dark red. “Lies, all lies!”
“We think not!” All of the hooded men had joined the crowd, and now one stepped out and called, “The raids made no sense to us until we heard Hob’s testimony. Then we knew we’d been betrayed by our own lord. Sir Kenrick has offered to stand as our champion that we might see justice done on behalf of our murdered kin!”
William looked shocked that a commoner was speaking so to him. He raised his arm and barked, “Ride the peasants down!”
There was an uncertain pause. At least a few members of his armed guard looked doubtful, as if unsure whether they should obey a lord who had acted so monstrously.
But others had no doubts. Knights were gathering reins and preparing to charge when a voice vaster than the ocean boomed, “Enough! No longer will you be able to hide behind the swordss of your henchmen, William of Penruth!” Lord Magnus dropped below the clouds as if conjured by magic. “The dragonss of Britain have come to ssee that justice iss done!”
Another dragon appeared, then another and another, their great wings beating with awesome power. Kenrick recognized Carthach among the gathering throng. More than a dozen came, the wind from their wings hard against his face. When she was in dragon form earlier, Ariane must have summoned every dragon she knew to insure that William would be unable to avoid this confrontation.
As the dragons wheeled above the moor, most of the drivers and servants in William’s entourage ran screaming. The hooded men, better acquainted with Lord Magnus, stood their ground, though Kenrick could sense their uneasiness.
Lord William roared, “You are no knight, Kenrick, but a sorcerer who has bespelled dragons to obey his will! You’ll not take my land from me with vile magic!”
Kenrick laughed. “No mere mortal can command a dragon! They are here to see that you cannot hide from your crimes. Prepare to fight, Lord William!”
“Kill him!” William gestured wildly to his knights. “Kill the sorcerer, and the dragons will fly away!”
“Nay, murderer!” Magnus released a plume of fire between William and his knights. The other dragons wheeled into position and began breathing fire, creating a ring of flames around Kenrick and William. The knights and men-at-arms were driven back until William and Kenrick were face to face in a large circle.
The dragons ceased their flaming and the fire died quickly on the damp turf. But they had done their job. No knight would dare come to the aid of his lord.
“You want to fight? Then die, damn you!” William yanked his visor down over his face and pulled out his sword as he spurred his horse forward.
Kenrick tugged his own visor down and wheeled Thunder to parry William’s first blow. Though William was years older, he had power and cunning. The two knights hacked furiously at each other as they tested each other’s strength and looked for weaknesses, letting the well-trained destriers keep them in position.
Kenrick’s skill was greater, he thought, but as the savage struggle continued, he began to feel the weakness left by his recent injuries. His movements were slower and he was having less success with his thrusts and parries.
Seeing that he had the upper hand, Lord William managed to get around his opponent’s shield to land a crushing blow on Kenrick’s left arm. His hauberk saved the arm from being chopped off, but the force of the blow drove mail links into his muscles with shattering force. There would be massive bruises and maybe a broken bone, if he survived. Arm numb, Kenrick swayed in his saddle, fighting the pain and fatigue as he tried to collect his remaining strength.
“Die now, you villain!” With a roar, William gripped the hilt of his heavy sword with both hands and slashed downward in a killing blow.
Feebly Kenrick managed to parry. Though it was a weak effort, his blade threw William off balance. With both hands gripping his weapon rather than reins or pommel, he lurched sideways. Unable to recover and weighted down by his armor, he crashed heavily from his horse, snarling a vile curse.
A mounted man had a great advantage over one on foot, but honor required Kenrick to dismount so they could continue the battle on equal terms. Aching in every inch of his body, he slid from his horse.
The baron hadn’t moved. Kenrick approached cautiously, sword at the ready. William was just the sort to pretend injury in order to lure his opponent close enough for an unexpected blow.
As Kenrick went down on one knee beside the baron, he saw that William’s helmet was tw
isted at an unnatural angle. Shocked, he pushed the visor up to reveal the other man’s slack features.
Not quite believing, he held the blade of his sword in front of his opponent’s mouth. No trace of breath condensed on the bright metal.
Stunned that the battle was over so abruptly, Kenrick rose wearily to his feet. “Lord William of Penruth is dead! He broke his neck when he fell.”
There was a moment of absolute silence. Then Magnus’s booming voice proclaimed, “God has chosen the right! The ussurper is dead, and Penruth can now be ruled by the true blood!” He caught Kenrick’s gaze and for a moment their minds touched. Farewell, my champion. Live long and well with my dearest girl!
Kenrick caught his breath at the suddenness of this farewell. We will miss you, my lord. May you find what you are seeking when you reach your home in the west.
Lord Magnus inclined his head. Then, with a whoosh of wings, he ascended into the clouds, followed by his dragon kin. Kenrick watched him go, tears stinging his eyes. The world would be a poorer place when dragons no longer chose to live among men.
Only moments had passed, and when Kenrick looked around at the remnants of William’s entourage he saw that the knights and men-at-arms were shocked and uncertain. None seemed inclined to avenge their lord.
The silence was broken by the thunder of hooves. He turned to see Ariane galloping down the hill. The hood of her mantle was thrown back and her red gold hair streamed behind her like a banner of flame. She slowed down to ride through the crowd of hooded men, then halted her horse a dozen feet from Kenrick.
“You know me, people of Penruth!” she cried in a voice like ringing bells. As she spoke, the clouds broke and a shaft of sunshine broke through, lighting her with its golden warmth. “I am Ariane of Penruth, returned to claim my birthright!”
Chapter 13
Ariane’s gaze swept the moor, touching every man and woman present. The great gate of the castle had opened, and servants were pouring out as they heard the news. These were her people, and many of them she recognized. Even more recognized her, she thought.
Arnulph, leader of the hooded men, pulled his scarf free to reveal his face as he dropped to one knee. “Hail, Lady Ariane!”
He had known she was alive, but many of the other people of Penruth had thought her dead. The villagers were the first to follow Arnulph’s lead. As they knelt in obeisance, it was like a wind blowing over a wheat field.
“Hail to the Lady of Penruth!” Sir Alfred, one of the older knights who had served her parents, slid from his horse and bowed before her, tears running down his face. “Give thanks for God’s miracle!”
The other knights followed Sir Alfred’s lead. “All hail to our lady!”
Almost everyone in sight was now kneeling, except Hob. Released by Giles, he raced for the woods while attention was elsewhere.
Only Kenrick still stood, his expression stunned. She could feel his shock and confusion, and his painful wondering about why she had concealed the truth of her heritage. As he started to kneel, she extended her hand. “Never kneel to me, my dearest,” she said softly.
He took her hand, and she held it as she dismounted. Raising their joined hands above her head, she called out, “Kenrick of Rathbourne is my beloved husband and champion! Together we shall rule over Penruth with justice and compassion.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said under his breath.
She glanced up pleadingly. “I’ll explain as soon as I can. Please trust that my reasons were good.”
She lowered their hands, her gaze steely as she studied the knights and men-at-arms. “Some of you I have known for many years, and I know you to be good men. Swear fealty to me and you may stay. But if any of you feel you cannot serve William’s successor, or if you have committed crimes against the people of Penruth, go now!”
Her gaze came to rest on Sir Guiscard. As captain of William’s guard, he had once tried to rape her. She’d had to use magic to escape. William had brushed off her accusation. Today Guiscard paled under her hard gaze, and she knew that he would be gone before noontide. Several of the other guards looked equally uneasy. She guessed they also would leave before they could be accused of any crimes.
“Oh, my lady!” A middle-aged woman who had run down from the castle fell to Ariane’s feet, her voice choked with tears. “I had thought you dead these many years!”
It was Margery, her old nurse. Ariane lifted the older woman to her feet and hugged her fiercely. “My grandfather saved me. It’s so good to be home!”
Her hand locked in Kenrick’s, she began walking up to the castle, receiving greetings from the people who had raised her. Old Roger, the stableman who had taught her to ride, said bluntly, “’Tis good to have you home, my lady, and God be thanked that your new lord killed that devil William!”
“One should not give thanks for death, Roger,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in the mild rebuke since she felt exactly the same way.
Joyfully she entered the gates into her castle. Kenrick had said nothing during their walk, but she could feel his questions.
As they entered the inner bailey, she announced, “Today there will be a feast of rejoicing! Margery, tell the cooks to get busy. Now I must show my husband his new home.” Breaking away from the crowd was a slow business, but eventually she managed to lead Kenrick up to the tower room that had been her mother’s solar. The sky had cleared during their walk, and sunshine poured into the round room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Kenrick dropped her hand, his face forbidding. “Why didn’t you tell me Lord William was your father?”
“He was my stepfather.” She stepped close and pulled Kenrick’s scarlet surcoat over his head. “My mother, Lord Magnus’s daughter, married Richard, the last true lord of Penruth. They were very happy together.
“After my father died, my mother felt overwhelmed by the responsibilities of the barony. In her worry and loneliness, she turned to William, who was captain of the castle guard. He wooed her with pretty words. She was fool enough to believe that he loved her, and that he would protect my rights as my father’s heir.”
Kenrick’s face relaxed as she removed his helm and went to work on the breastplate. “You were able to sense his evil, I think?”
She nodded. “My mother refused to think ill of him, though I warned her. She learned after they wed that while he lusted after her position and beauty, he despised her dragon blood. He had an iron bracelet welded around her wrist so she could not change to dragon form. I think he was glad when she died in childbed, along with the babe, because that meant he could replace her with a wife of untainted blood. Of course he had no real right to Penruth, but he was here, and strong. There was no one to take my side.”
“So you ran away to your grandfather?”
She nodded again. “With my mother dead, I realized my life was worthless if I stayed at Penruth. In fact, as my mother lay cold on her deathbed, William hunted me through the castle. He wanted to kill me that night so he could claim that I had taken my own life in sorrow.”
Ariane’s hands stilled as she remembered the terror. She had been fourteen years old. “William trapped me in one of the towers. I used mind touch to call Lord Magnus. He flew to the tower and rescued me before William could break the door down. My stepfather announced that I’d thrown myself into the river from grief. I think he believed that I drowned myself rather than wait to be murdered.”
“The campaign to kill Magnus began about a year ago,” Kenrick observed. “Did it start because William learned you were alive?”
“I believe so. Several people in Tregarth knew who I was, so I suppose it was inevitable that word would get back to the castle eventually.”
“And ever since, he has been trying to kill Lord Magnus, because then it would be easy to kill you.” Kenrick drew her tenderly into his arms. “Thank God for your grandfather’s strength and protection!”
She clung as closely as she could, not caring about the hard armo
r he still wore. “Lord Magnus and I decided not to tell you I was the heiress for fear that like William, you might want me for wealth and power while secretly despising my tainted dragon blood. My mother died of a broken heart, I think. I…I had to know that you could accept me despite my dragon nature.”
“Not despite. Because.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “If God grants us children, I shall rejoice in the knowledge that your dragon blood will run in their veins. I love you, Ariane. For now and always.” He kissed her again, claiming her mouth with a hunger that turned her to flame.
She returned the embrace with such enthusiasm that they bumped into the door with a clank. Half laughing and all frustrated, she said, “We have to get this armor off you so we can celebrate properly, Lord Penruth!”
He blinked. “I’m a lord now? I suppose I am.” He tugged at the fastening that held on his greaves. “I shall miss Lord Magnus and I knew him only days. He…was like the father I never knew. Yet his departure will be much harder for you, for he was all the family you had.”
“I will miss him dreadfully, but Penruth is my home,” she said softly. “And you are now my family.”
He smiled, but his gaze searching. “Lord Magnus was also your link to the dragon world. Will you grieve for the loss of your dragon life?”
“Some.” She thought wistfully of her childhood dreams of being a true dragon, then let them go. With a smile of pure joy, she said softly, “But it’s all right, my beloved, for I’ve found that in your arms, I can fly!”
Author’s Note
Thank you for taking the time to read The Dragon and the Dark Knight. I hope you’ve enjoyed it—and if so, please consider helping other readers find it by leaving a review of the book at your favorite online bookstore or reader website.
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Happy reading!
M. J. Putney
DRAGON AND THE DARK KNIGHT, THE Page 8