Battle Cry and The Berserker

by C. L. Scholey

  Adamas lifted his head and screamed his victory. He snorted and then pawed the ground anxious for someone’s recognition of his prowess. He noted the female human on his back. Though seated, she was slumped and still remained unmoving. The horse was unconcerned at that. It was not in fact the first time a female had been positioned upon him thus. Adamas sniffed at his master, his lips worked the man’s clothing, tugging. Again no movement. What to do?

  Adamas nudged at Rory with his nose. He lay still. Annoyed at his master’s laziness whilst he had done all the fighting, Adamas pushed harder. Rory rolled to his back. Again with a powerful shove Rory was moved to his belly. Adamas cocked his head. Another solid shove and Rory was again sprawled on his back. Interesting. Liking this new rolling game Adamas soon had Rory headed for a small pond. Roll and shove, roll and shove. They came to a small incline. One good shove and Rory was sprawling down the small incline and head dived into the water. Adamas watched as Rory began to sink. Well that wasn’t good! Who would feed him? Concerned, the giant horse went in after him. He grasped Rory by his clothing and lifted him slightly out of the water. Rory coughed. Relieved he finally elicited a response Adamas let him go. Once more Rory remained unmoving and began to sink. Again Adamas took hold of his clothing and lifted him above the water. Rory spluttered. Adamas dunked him and pulled him out once more. Lift and dunk, dunk and lift. What another interesting new game!

  “Adamas, desist,” Rory howled. He grabbed onto the horses muzzle and tried to stand. Still wobbly, Rory fell forward onto his hands.

  Thinking to offer aid to his master Adamas gave one good shove to Rory’s behind. Rory took flight and landed face first back up onto the bank. Rory turned over with a groan. When he looked up Adamas had his muzzle almost pressed to Rory’s nose. “Thanks.” Rory growled. Adamas nickered.

  Grasping hold of the horse’s mane, Rory pulled himself up. Gently he lifted Constantine’s head and rubbed a soft finger down the side of her cheek. Relieved, he realized she had but fainted. Rory had some difficulty disengaging her small hands from Adamas’s thick mane. It appeared she wrapped her hands in it to keep from falling off. Once Constantine was de-tangled Rory mounted with some difficulty. His head pained and the ground seemed to spin.

  “Gently old man,” Rory told his mount.

  Adamas moved back up the incline. He walked over to the large oak tree and whinnied. Looking up Rory noted the knight Frederick hanging in the tree. He chuckled at the man’s slumped position. Gave new meaning to the words, ‘by the seat of your breeches,’ Rory thought. Rory’s head pained too much to even attempt to recover the man. Though he retrieved his own sword. He also thought it best to get his little wife home. She had been through quite an ordeal of late. The sky was darkening and Rory shivered from cold. “Home old man,” Rory said. Adamas moved off at a slow pace. Rory wrapped Constantine up tighter in her ermine fur and they took a quiet pace down the trail toward the castle.

  “They come,” came a huge bellow.

  Juliette raced from the hall out into the courtyard bursting with excitement. Rory rode amidst welcoming cheers. He noticed the expressions on some seemed haggard, filth ridden. Some also noticed Lord Broc seemed just as haggard.

  “What has transpired?” Both Rory and Devon asked as one.

  “We were waylaid by Frederick and his companion,” Rory informed his brother grimly.

  “Constantine?” Juliette cried out. She noted her sisters pale complexion and that she had yet to stir.

  “Fear not Juliette, she has but fainted. The last few days have been overmuch for her,” Rory said.

  “Frederick and his man?” Devon inquired.

  “Frederick now resides amidst a sturdy tree. The other, Louis, I believe his name to be, has fled,” Rory replied.

  “A tree?” Devon asked skeptically.

  “Aye, a tree. Courtesy of Adamas’s hind legs no doubt,” Rory said and chuckled. He remembered the horse had used the same move in battle as a knight had tried to sneak up behind Rory. As he recalled that knight had flown quite a remarkable distance.

  “I am glad to see you have returned safely my brother,” Devon said. Though his appearance was disheveled and damp he looked no worse for wear.

  Devon reached up and took Constantine from his brother’s arms. Rory dismounted. He rubbed his mount affectionately then handed him over into his squire’s capable care. He reached back for Constantine. Devon held him off.

  “There is much to discuss, brother. Desmond will take the Lady Constantine to your chamber. Juliette and Mary are well able to care for her while you partake in sustenance, and dry yourself by the fire,” Devon said.

  Rory sighed. He allowed the knight to take his wife. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that no one would dare try and make off with her again. Devon was right, there was much to discuss. He watched as Constantine disappeared from his sight.

  “We have had trouble, Rory,” Devon said. He helped Rory remove his battle gear then propelled his brother to the table and bid him sit. Soon food and ale were placed before them.

  “I can see that,” Rory replied. He took note of a few families huddled close to the large hearth in the great hall. They seemed sullen and lost. A babe cried and was shushed. Not one child he noted laughed or played about. Even though they were in the castle none gazed about curiously.

  “Fire was set to a field and a few homes, many lost all they possessed,” Devon informed him.

  Rory’s eyes flashed with fury. “No doubt to keep you busy whilst Frederick and Louis set about their evil scheme.”

  “Think you it was them?” Devon pondered, though it would make sense.

  “Aye, Devon,” Rory muttered with conviction.

  “We need to search for them,” Devon said.

  “You need look no further than the tree for the one. I highly doubt that one will ever move again. On the morrow we will send the men out to retrieve Louis,” Rory replied.

  Devon sat pondering for a moment. Rory noticed his now pensive expression.

  “It would appear something else has transpired?” Rory questioned. His eyebrows rose as Devon turned crimson.

  “Aye,” Devon said, his word clipped, trying to collect his thoughts.

  “Should I guess?” Rory asked, now amused.

  Devon stood up and began an erratic pacing. “I am unsure how it came about,” Devon finally declared.

  Intrigued Rory watched him. Devon stopped and slumped back beside his brother. “I wish your blessing on a union,” Devon declared.

  “Whose?”

  “Mine and the Lady Juliette’s,” Devon said then waited for all hell to break loose.

  Rory leaned back and roared with laughter. He laughed so long and hard Devon became angry.

  “I do not see anything amusing about this. I wish Juliette’s hand, yet she is betrothed.” Devon said with a scowl.

  “Aye, ’tis quite the dilemma,” Rory choked out and wiped his eyes to rid them of moisture.

  “I am serious,” Devon all but thundered.

  Rory smiled at his brother now. “I can see that you are. Give me a night’s rest and some time with my wife and we will plan. Fear not Devon I will aid you whatever way I can.”

  Devon sighed with relief. He watched Rory bite heartily into a chunk of thick dark bread and swallow it down with a loud gulp of ale.

  “Thank you, Rory. I seem to find myself caring for the lass,” Devon admitted almost shyly.

  “Devon’s smitten,” Rory offered in a singsong chant. Devon groaned. He should have known that would come back to haunt him.

  “Yes fine, I am smitten,” Devon conceded with a flourish of a hand, feeling vexed.

  “Oh, just think of the fun you will have on your wedding night,” Rory said still chuckling. He could just imagine Devon explaining to Juliette about popping.

  Devon groaned again. He then looked thoughtful. “You are right brother. Perhaps I should bed this one whilst wearing my battle gear.”

  At the
look of surprise on Rory’s face Devon realized his brother still thought the lass to be gentle and weak. Now it was Devon who chuckled. He slapped his brother heartily on the shoulder and then watched him leave to seek out Constantine.

  * * * *

  Constantine’s eyes fluttered. She felt overwhelmed as she looked up into Juliette’s concerned expression. Crying out Constantine flung herself into Juliette’s waiting arms. They rocked together. Seeing her lady was suffering from no ill effects Mary quietly vacated the chamber leaving the two alone.

  “’Tis you, oh, I had thought never to see you again dearest,” Constantine whimpered, overcome with emotion.

  “Nor I you,” Juliette whimpered back equally overcome.

  “Are you well?” both asked in unison. Then laughed.

  “I am well,” Constantine said. Her eyes taking in her sister she noted Juliette wore one of her gowns. “You too look well. Blue always did look better on you.”

  “Your fur wrap is lovely,” Juliette commented, and ran a soft hand over it.

  Constantine scowled. “A gift from Lord Daft.”

  “Lord Daft?”

  “I am sorry dearest, but your betrothed is strange...and smelly,” Constantine added evilly.

  Knowing that look Juliette lifted an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

  Constantine ducked her head. She was suddenly concerned about Juliette’s reaction. “I but aided with a castle dinner,” she replied.

  Narrowing her eyes Juliette asked, “Like you made Uncle Emit dinner?”

  “Aye,” Constantine admitted. She looked into her hands waiting apprehensively for Juliette’s reaction.

  Juliette surprised her by flinging her arms around her, she laughed unrestrained. “I should have known two days spent with you and Lord Christopher would want me not.”

  “Well now that is rather rude dearest.” Constantine sniffed.

  “Yes, but ’tis the truth,” Juliette replied still laughing.

  Relenting Constantine smiled. “He stole me from Rory. I was angry.”

  “You love him then?” Juliette asked.

  “Oh, my yes. He is not horrible at all. He is wonderful.” Juliette noted how her sister’s eyes sparkled when she spoke of her husband. Feeling a little jealous Juliette scowled.

  Seeing her sister’s expression Constantine’s gaze softened. “I do love him, yet I was near mad without you,” she said.

  Juliette brightened instantly. “As was I without you.”

  Sadness then clouded Constantine’s eyes. “How much time think you we have?”

  “’Tis up to father,” Juliette replied.

  “Father?” Constantine asked quizzically.

  “In your absence Lord Devon has asked for my hand,” Juliette informed her.

  “Truly?” Constantine squealed with excitement.

  “’Tis the truth.”

  “Juliette, that is wonderful,” Constantine said.

  “It would indeed be wonderful if father says yes,” Juliette said, but her expression spoke otherwise.

  “What is it that bothers you so?” Constantine asked. She could see her sister was concerned at the union.

  “Lord Devon is a second son. Nicholas is not. I fear Devon may only seek my wealth. I realize Lord Christopher cares nothing for me. He would have demanded my safe return by now. It would have been nice not only to have you but a man who might care for me even if only a little,” Juliette replied.

  Constantine gazed at her little sister thoughtfully. She could not even comprehend someone not being smitten by just the sight of her dear sweet form and enchanting disposition. “How know you Devon seeks only your wealth?”

  Juliette sighed. “He orders me about in a rude fashion. He trails after me as would a puppy. He calls me his little berserker and he even...” Juliette leaned in closer and whispered, “He even smacked my bottom.” Constantine sat with eyes wide.

  “Why on earth did he strike you?” This was out of character for Devon.

  “I but kicked at him...a little. It was just when they kidnapped me,” Juliette said on the defense.

  “Juliette, wast thou battling again?” Constantine asked her tone stern.

  “I may have been.” Petulance oozed from her tone.

  Constantine sighed. What a pair they were. The battle cry and the berserker. Constantine was surprised Rory and Devon wanted them at all. Constantine sat up straighter. What if Devon changed his mind? If he would not take Juliette and Lord Christopher did not want her how faraway would her father have to send Juliette away to be wed?

  “You are then positive Devon seeks your wealth?” Constantine asked. Juliette did possess certain wealth. Rory would favor the match.

  “Perhaps. What troubles you so, Pepper?” Juliette asked, almost frightened at the pale look of her sister.

  “What if Devon changes his mind? What if Rory decides the two of us together are too much trouble? You must not battle again, Juliette, and I must endeavor to keep quiet,” Constantine said wringing her hands.

  Juliette gave off a very un-lady-like snort. “Really Pepper, you know your howling is

  uncontrollable.”

  “Then you must help me,” Constantine declared filled with desperation. “We must hurry along your wedding.”

  “But how?” Juliette asked.

  “We must seek out father and beg him to allow you to wed Lord Devon. We must not again be separated. I could not stand it,” Constantine cried.

  “But how...?” Juliette began but stopped abruptly as Rory entered the room.

  “I am glad to see you have awakened,” Rory commented. Constantine went to him, near gliding across the room. They kissed in a lingering fashion while clasped in each other’s arms.

  Juliette sat back watching. She was happy for her dear sister. A thought nagged at her that she would like to be loved thus. The couple gazed at each other with unveiled adoration.

  “I had been so frightened for you. When I awoke I knew it was you who saved us and brought me home. What a fine brave warrior my husband is,” Constantine declared full of admiration at his prowess.

  Feeling sheepish, Rory declared, “I had a little help from Adamas.”

  “Remind me to take him an apple,” Constantine muttered, caressing his face.

  Or a bushel, Rory thought.

  Juliette cleared her throat and Rory suddenly noticed his little sister-in-law seated upon his bed. She was looking at him shyly, still in awe at his great strength and Rory could not understand how any could claim this tiny comely sweet imp could wage battle.

  “Off to bed with you, Juliette. Your sister and I have pressing business to take care of,” Rory commanded in a gentle tone. Juliette rose, embracing her sister, happy to be reunited at last and after kissing Constantine’s cheek she bid them both goodnight.

  “Pressing business?” Constantine asked.

  “Most definitely. I plan on pressing as close to your body as I am able,” Rory declared. His eyes smoldering he lifted Constantine into his arms and headed with her to the bed. His heated look left no doubt in Constantine’s mind that his pressing business would continue well into the night.

  Chapter Ten

  Both Constantine and Juliette watched the next morning as Rory, Devon and a handful of knights set out to search for Louis and retrieve Frederick. Constantine was a bit weary from her adventure yet she and Juliette had decided they must seek council with their father. They were certain if both pleaded Juliette’s case their father would be swayed into allowing the sisters to stay together. Hopefully Uncle Emit would not be about.

  Leaving the castle would prove to be a bit tricky, although both felt the distraction of the reconstruction of the homes should provide ample opportunity. Constantine had been indulgent as an overly apologetic Mary fussed over her and begged forgiveness. It was not in her nature to hold a grudge and Constantine did see how the circumstances had presented itself. She grandly forgave Mary and instructed her to help the villagers this day. Constant
ine needed her out from underfoot. Mary left the castle after giving strict orders no one was to disturb their lady and her sister. They wished to spend the day together in Constantine’s chamber catching up on news.

  “How do we leave undetected?” Juliette asked curiously and a bit apprehensive. She was remembering the bog and at times was certain she detected upon her person the odor of manure still clinging.

  “I have an idea,” Constantine began. At Juliette’s near frightened look she chuckled. “Fret not, my dearest sister, it will not be painful, smelly or wet. We needs must don lads clothing and exit the castle. ’Tis full of villagers. Who will be the wiser?”

  Thoughtfully Juliette considered. Who would be expecting them to leave? Having only just been reunited everyone assumed they would want to spend time in each other’s company huddled before the blazing warmth of the hearth, chatting happily. Yes it was a very good idea.

  “Where ever will we acquire lads clothing?” Juliette fretted.

  “Come, we will venture to the kitchen and say we require sustenance. Cook has been busy since early morn with the extra mouths to feed. With all the comings and goings everyone will be too busy to spare us a second glance,” Constantine reasoned.

  “Then what?” Juliette asked.

  “We will be ever diligent in acquiring our apparel,” Constantine said, rolling her eyes.

  The two then headed serenely for the kitchen, their mission weighing heavily.

  * * * *

  “’Twas indeed a good shot,” Devon marveled, his eyes upraised to the large tree. A few of the other knights chuckled agreeing with him.

  Frederick still remained mounted upon the tree branch in a precarious position.

  “How do we remove him?” A knight enquired.

  “Why not leave him to the buzzards,” another enquired almost spitting the words.

  The previous day had been long and exceptionally hard on everyone. Many of the villagers were homeless and frightened. The knights were weary and also angered the defenseless people had been attacked. Thankfully no lives had been lost, but the tiny babe had come close. The villagers were still recounting Devon’s heroic act. The story told so often and by so many some now thought Devon to have aided twin babes, an elderly woman, a cripple and a pregnant goat.