Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

by Kathryn Le Veque

  So she struggled for calm, wiping her tears, staying behind the pillar because she thought it would be better to stay where she was and not try to leave. He might see her and she was fairly certain she couldn’t outrun him on the fat Belgian stallion. Therefore, the most logical thing was to wait him out until he left and not try to run.

  … please, Brighton, go!

  As she sat behind the pillar, shielded, she began to calm. There were quite a few people in the sanctuary, enough to distract the knight, and she quickly pulled the hood up over her head to shield her features. In fact, she drew up her legs and buried her face in the top of her knees, praying furiously for both control and protection. Surely God would listen to her pleas.

  Please, God, send Brighton far away so I shall never see him again. And please… if Maddoc is with you, perhaps you can send him to protect me. I need a guardian angel, God… please send him to me.

  Adalind must have prayed the same prayer a dozen times. Over and over, she asked for Brighton to be sent away and for a guardian angel to protect her. Outside, the storm raged and time passed, and Adalind remained pressed up against the stone pillar, listening to the weather howl and wondering where Brighton was. She didn’t dare move, peering around the pillar and risk being spotted. She couldn’t hear any voices, not from anyone, because the rain and thunder were so loud. On into the afternoon, she sat… and she waited.

  It was a long and apprehensive wait. Adalind kept her face down and her hood over her head, listening to the rain, praying for protection and desertion – protection from God, Brighton’s desertion. She also found her thoughts wandering to Maddoc, wondering what it would have been like had Brighton de Royans never made an appearance and she had married Maddoc as she had always planned.

  They would have remained living at Canterbury, a newlywed couple just starting out in life. She thought on the children they might have had, all sons she was sure, who would have all looked just like Maddoc with his blue eyes and black hair. Perhaps they would have even had his smile, with the big dimples in each cheek, and his chin with the defined cleft in it. There was so much about him that was distinctive and wonderful, now dead and buried. It was a struggle to remember the wonderful things about him and not the last time she saw him. Maddoc, her beautiful angel, now gone forever.

  The afternoon continued on and, at some point, she fell asleep with her knees drawn up and her head covered. She was weary, and hungry, and dozed periodically, waking herself up in a panic when thoughts of Brighton would come about. Then she would pray for that guardian angel again, pleading with God to send someone to protect her. As the afternoon began to wane, she dared to lift her head to look around and see what was going on around her.

  For the most part, people seemed to be sitting on the ground, or praying, or milling in small groups. Adalind could see that everything was still and relatively quiet, and she began to feel somewhat brave. Cautiously, she moved, very slowly, to peer around the pillar into the main body of the church.

  Several seconds of frantic searching did not reveal Brighton. In fact, there were hardly any people in the chapel at all, as if everyone had finally meandered home to a hearth and a good meal. A few people continued to mill around by the entry, coming in and out, but the crowds seemed to have vanished. Fortified with confidence, Adalind moved out of her hiding place and began to move back across the sanctuary in her hunt for the priest.

  All the while, however, her gaze moved over the cavernous hall, making sure Brighton was nowhere to be found. Making sure he was gone. Maybe she wouldn’t need that guardian angel, after all. As she made the turn into the alcove where she had seen Brighton and the priest speaking, she ran headlong into an armored body.

  It was an unexpected and terrifying encounter, one that sent Adalind from calm to hysterical in a split second. Brighton grasped Adalind as a reflex to steady her when she bumped into him, realizing before it was almost too late that he held Adalind in his grasp. The moment they laid eyes on each other, Adalind let out a horrific scream and yanked her arm from his grasp. The battle was on.

  Brighton didn’t even say a word; he didn’t have to. He had his hands full trying to grab Adalind as she screamed and fought and kicked. The entire sanctuary was in an uproar as the lady did battle against the big knight, throwing her fists, and everything else, at him in an attempt to get away. A bank of candles ended up on the ground as the lady tried to pick it up and hit him with it, but it was too heavy. It rolled to the ground as he managed to get a hold of her wrist. Adalind grabbed a candle and smashed it, flame-side, into Brighton’s face. Hot wax burned his skin.

  But Brighton was tough. He didn’t utter a sound as the wax burned him. He had Adalind by one wrist and was going for the other, but Adalind wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He was going to have to kill her first. She twisted and screamed, and ended up throwing herself down on the ground in an attempt to break his hold. Then she put her feet up and tried to kick him in the groin. Brighton had to move quickly or risk serious injury.

  “Adalind,” he said firmly. “Stop fighting me… you are going to injure yourself.”

  Adalind was incoherent with fright. “Let me go!” she hollered. “Let me go!”

  “I am not,” he said, his voice low with resignation and hazard. “Please stop fighting before we both get hurt.”

  That only seemed to feed Adalind’s frenzy. She yanked and pulled, swung fists and feet. Even though Brighton was armored, he was still on the receiving end of some seriously strong blows. Panic fed Adalind’s strength and she recklessly battled. She was attempting to kick him in the groin again when Brighton suddenly let go of her. Adalind tumbled to the ground, clawing at the dirt in an effort to crawl away, when a shadow suddenly passed over her and she heard the distinct sounds of broadsword against broadsword.

  It took Adalind little time to figure out there was a fight going on over her head. Startled and frightened, she scrambled to get out of the way, trying to cover her head with her arms, as she was accidently kicked by a massive boot. It smacked her in the hip as she crawled on all fours nearly halfway across the sanctuary before she allowed herself to turn around and see what was going on.

  Someone had intervened on her behalf. She could hardly believe it. But she was thankful with all of her heart. Perhaps the guardian angel I prayed for? Perhaps God had listened to her, after all.

  She could see a very big knight going up against Brighton as the man fought for his life. The knight was fully and heavily armored so she couldn’t see his face, but he was a man with power and skill. Brighton had been caught off guard and was struggling to defend himself, as he’d barely had time to unsheathe his broadsword and had an awkward grip on it.

  In fact, as Adalind watched, the unknown knight managed to knock Brighton’s sword from his grasp and send it sailing off into the shadows. At the same time, he kicked Brighton in the side of his left knee and caused the man to collapse onto his knees. As the thunder rolled and the rain pounded, the unknown knight pointed the tip of his broadsword at Brighton’s eye.

  Brighton knew he was defeated but he would not give up. He took a swipe at the broadsword and tried to roll onto the ground in an attempt to take out the legs of the unknown knight, but he was rewarded when the knight kicked him in the neck. It was a hard kick, right in the throat, and as Brighton lay there and gasped for air, the unknown knight flipped up his visor.

  It was Daniel.

  “Uncle Daniel!” Adalind screamed.

  Daniel glanced up at his niece, holding out a hand to her to prevent her from coming closer because she was struggling to her feet, trying to run to him. When he held out his hand, she stopped. His focus returned to Brighton, laboring to breathe. All he could feel at the moment was pure, unadulterated anger and hatred as he gazed down at the man. Infuriated, he kicked him again in the neck, and then in the head. Half-conscious, Brighton struggled to stay alert.

  “Before I kill you, I want you to know who I am and why I am goi
ng to end your miserable life,” Daniel rumbled. “My name is Daniel de Lohr. Lady Adalind is my niece and Maddoc du Bois, the man you stole her from, is my closest friend. You are wholly unworthy to have faced Maddoc in a challenge and wholly unworthy to have made an attempt on his life, so listen to me now; your death is in vengeance for Maddoc’s death. It is a small price to pay and will not nearly settle the debt, so know this – I will ride to your family and slay every one of them. I will burn your home, steal your possessions, and slay everyone who ever knew you. I will wipe your name from this earth and take pleasure in it. Perhaps then will I consider justice served for Maddoc and Adalind. Perhaps then will your debt be settled with me. Look at me now.”

  Brighton could barely open his eyes but he tried. His hands were around his neck, trying to protect himself should Daniel try to kick him again. Daniel bent over, looking Brighton in the eye.

  “Do you understand me?” Daniel hissed. “You worthless son of a whore, do you understand why you are seconds from death?”

  Brighton tried to inhale deeply but it was difficult. He eventually closed his eyes because it was just too difficult to keep them open.

  “Maddoc… was a good knight,” he whispered. “I regret his death. But as knights, death is our shadow. It is always there. I fought Maddoc for Adalind because I wanted her. There is no dishonor in a challenge.”

  Daniel could see that the man was calmly accepting his fate. It both infuriated him and inspired some measure of respect. He couldn’t really decide which reaction was stronger. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and dared to glance over his shoulder at Adalind. She was standing up, looking disheveled, and watching him with enormous eyes.

  “Are you well, Addie?” he asked softly.

  Adalind nodded vigorously. But as she did, Brighton kicked out his legs and caught Daniel around the ankles, toppling the man over. His broadsword went flying as he landed in a heap of mail and armor. Adalind shrieked and jumped back as Brighton rolled onto his knees and went after Daniel with a vengeance. Brighton had his hands wrapped around Daniel’s neck, choking the life from him, and Adalind’s panicked gaze found Daniel’s broadsword a few feet from the tussling knights.

  She rushed over and picked up the weapon, quickly realizing it was very heavy. Struggling to hold it aloft, she could see that Brighton was focused on killing Daniel. He wasn’t looking at her. Getting a good grip on the sword, she did what she had to do in order to save her uncle’s life. Perhaps there was more to it; weeks of horror, of fear, and of grief over Maddoc’s fate. The man had caused her so much pain she would never be rid of it all. All of that anger and grief built up to the point where she ran at Brighton and rammed the broadsword squarely into his back.

  Brighton groaned and fell forward onto Daniel. Shrieking at what she had done, Adalind took hold of Daniel’s arm and yanked, trying to move him out from underneath Brighton, but Daniel’s substantial weight prevented her from rendering much aid. Daniel managed to remove himself from Brighton under his own power, shoving the man off of him and struggling to his feet. He eyed the knight, now collapsed on the dirt floor of the sanctuary with a broadsword in his back, as he rubbed his neck. Then, he turned to Adalind.

  She was sobbing with fear, with relief. Daniel could see the emotions rippling across her features. He staggered over to her, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly.

  “All is well, Addie,” he assured her hoarsely. “All is well, I promise. Let us go home now. I will take you home.”

  Adalind forgot all about joining the convent at that very moment, never to consider it again. To be back in the arms of her family was of more comfort to her than God ever could be. She needed and wanted to go home, to face whatever she had to face within the bosom of her loving family. She had been foolish to think she could ever leave them.

  “Thank you, Uncle Daniel,” she sobbed. “I… I prayed to God to send me a guardian angel and then you appeared.”

  He gave her a final squeeze before letting her go. “That is because God told me to come and find you,” he said, half-teasing her as he wiped tears from her face. “He told me to come right to this place, at this very minute, and I did.”

  Uncle Daniel liked to jest; Adalind knew that. She smiled weakly. “I never considered you an angel. Papa always said you had the devil in you.”

  Daniel laughed softly, displaying big white teeth. “Perhaps you will tell Papa otherwise now. Perhaps he will think better of his wayward son.”

  “Perhaps,” she murmured, looking up at him with her watery green eyes. “Have you been to Canterbury? Did they tell you of Maddoc’s death?”

  Daniel sobered. “He was not dead when I saw him,” he said, watching the surprise and astonishment register on her face. “He was very ill with fever, however. His wound was great. He asked me to come and find you and tell you that he would come for you when he was feeling better.”

  Adalind’s mouth popped open. “He is alive?”

  Daniel nodded, forcing a smile to be encouraging to her but he did not feel such things in his heart. He felt sorrow and grief. “He was when I saw him,” he said quietly. “That was only a few days ago. We should hurry back to Canterbury right away so that he will not worry any longer.”

  Adalind was beyond tears. She was so astonished that Maddoc was alive that she could think of nothing else. It filled her mind, consumed her body, leaving an imprint of hope and joy like she had never before experienced. She ran to collect the stolen satchel she had dropped in her fight with Brighton and began heading for the entry door. She had to get home.

  “Uncle Daniel, come now,” she commanded. “I must return to Maddoc.”

  Daniel could see how eager she was and he could only pray that Maddoc had not passed away in the few days he had been gone from Canterbury. He didn’t want to kill her joy but he didn’t want to promise her all would be well, either.

  “I know,” he said, taking a few steps in her direction. “Addie, he told me to tell you something.”

  She paused by the entry, the great Norman arch that allowed God’s faithful to enter His holy domain. “What did he tell you?” she cocked her head.

  “That he loves you and he is sorry he has not told you before.”

  He saw the pallor of Adalind’s face change. It went from rather pale to something that could only be described as glowing. A smile spread over her lips, one of joy and peace and comfort. It was an expression Daniel had never seen before, from anyone, and knew he never would again. It was an expression of abundant and true love.

  “I know he does,” she said after a moment. “He did not have to tell me. I already know he does.”

  Daniel was, in truth, rather surprised to see how much his niece had changed since the last time he had seen her. She had always been beautiful, that was true. But there was something different about her now, something mature and settled. Perhaps Maddoc had done this for her; perhaps not. Perhaps it was something she did on her own. All he knew was that he felt an overwhelming desire to return her to Canterbury. She had such love for Maddoc and always had. Now that he returned that love, it was unnatural for them to be separated.

  Daniel smiled at the wisdom of her reply, not those of an insecure or flighty woman, but one who knew she was truly and wholly loved.

  “He wanted me to tell you anyway,” he said after a moment. His attention turned to Brighton, still on the floor of the church, and he moved in his direction. “Let me retrieve my sword and we shall leave.”

  Brighton was stirring as Daniel reached him and he bent over, swiftly pulling the sword from the man’s back and listening to him groan. His wound was mid-back, above his kidneys but below his shoulder blade on the right side of his torso. From what Daniel could see, the broadsword had penetrated several inches into the man’s body. It was deep. With his boot, he rolled Brighton over onto his back.

  The man was conscious, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes. His breathing was unsteady.

  “If you are going
to finish the job,” Brighton whispered, “all I ask is that you be merciful.”

  Daniel gazed down at him seriously. His jaw began to tick. “Why?” he asked. “In return for the mercy you showed Maddoc when you gored him? For the mercy you showed Adalind when you ripped her from her family and stole her away? For all of that, I will make sure you suffer. I will cut you and bleed you and take great comfort in your anguish.”

  Brighton simply closed his eyes. He would not plead for his life and there was no use arguing with a man bent on vengeance. As Daniel took a good grip on his sword and lifted it with the intention of cutting deep into Brighton’s body, he heard a soft voice behind him.

  “Nay, Uncle Daniel,” Adalind came up beside him, gazing impassively down at Brighton. “Do not kill him.”

  Daniel paused in mid-stroke, turning to look at her. “Why not?” he asked, confused. “Why should I not gut him and take joy in every stroke for what he did to you and did to Maddoc?”

  Adalind continued to gaze at Brighton. For the first time in a month, she thought not on her currently relationship with the man, but back to the knight before the challenge, the abduction, the humorous and intelligent knight she had come to know through Glennie. She had always liked Brighton a great deal until the change. She knew that Glennie loved her brother terribly. She could only imagine Glennie’s pain when she learned of Brighton’s death. She began to feel confusion and remorse. With a heavy sigh, she crouched down next to Brighton’s head.

  “For every pain and horror you have caused me, I should let Uncle Daniel seek vengeance,” she murmured. “I cannot say that I have not thought of killing you myself over the past several weeks, because I have. And I can say with certainty that I will always hold great resentment and hatred for you against all that you have caused. It is not unlike the pain and suffering I endured during those years at Winchester Castle when your sister was the only friend I had. But she saved me then as she will save you now. For her, I will spare your life because she was my salvation during those hellish years and because of her, I found the strength to be strong day after day. I know your death would cause her great sorrow and I would never knowingly hurt her, not after everything she did for me. At this moment, I simply want to be free of you and never, ever think of you again. Do you understand me?”