Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

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Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances Page 59

by Kathryn Le Veque


  Maddoc could see that he’d get nothing more out of Daniel with Adalind around, which concerned him. He wondered why. Perhaps it was a bad tale, indeed. He hugged Adalind to him and kissed the top of her head again.

  “Then we shall do what we can to dry you both out,” he said. “We are setting up camp about a quarter of a mile up the road. Let us dry off and partake of a good meal. I feel like celebrating.”

  With that, the group moved back to the road, collecting horses before heading back to the clearing where the army was setting up their encampment. Maddoc collected Adalind, and his horse, walking beside Daniel as they made their way back to the armies that had been collected to find Lady Adalind and bring her back safely.

  The moment they got back to camp, the rain tapered off and the clouds parted, revealing a glorious sunset on the western horizon.

  *

  “He was injured badly enough that I believe he could not have left the church under his own power,” Daniel said. “It is my assumption that the priests are taking care of him until he is well enough to travel. And with that, you now know how I came across Adalind and what transpired with de Royans.”

  It was a cold and wet night after the vicious rain, but the clouds had moved away to reveal a diamond-night sky and a nearly full moon. It was bright and glorious as several fires burned steadily into the night. Some of the men had managed to find wood in the undergrowth that wasn’t saturated, and the warm fires burned brightly.

  Daniel was sitting before one of those fires with Maddoc, Adalind, David, Christopher, Rhys, Gart, Brydon and both of Maddoc’s brothers. They were crowded around the biggest fire, drinking tart wine and eating the succulent venison that Gart had managed to take down when the rains cleared and the animals had emerged to feed. Gart and Rhys had butchered the animal into several pieces so it would cook faster, which it did, and the air was filled with the smell of roasting meat and the sounds of happy men.

  Adalind had stuffed herself ill on meat and now sat in a miserable and weary heap against Maddoc, who hadn’t let her out of his sight, or more than a foot away from him, since their reunion that afternoon. Now, they sat discussing the crux of the issue, between Adalind’s story and Daniel’s, up until the point where Daniel had left Brighton injured on the floor of the church. Maddoc knew everything now. He was sickened by Adalind’s tales of fending for herself and stealing but he was hugely grateful for the happenstance that brought Daniel and Adalind together. It could have been so much worse. While Daniel stuffed his face, Maddoc stewed.

  “Then you did not kill him,” Maddoc clarified.

  Daniel shook his head. “I did not,” he replied, eyeing Adalind because of her hand in his reasons for not killing de Royans. He took the chivalrous route and took the blame. “I had an uncharacteristic flash of mercy. Besides, I thought it more important to remove Adalind. She was a hysterical mess.”

  Maddoc cocked an eyebrow, looking at Adalind as she sat with her head against his chest, struggling to keep her eyes open. He turned back to Daniel.

  “Then it stands to reason he is still at the church,” he said softly.

  Daniel nodded. “As I said, the man could not travel. It will take some time for him to recover enough to ride.”

  Maddoc didn’t say anything. He gazed at the fire with Adalind dozing against him. He shifted so she would be more comfortable, his arm around her protectively. He seemed distant and pensive, not realizing that most of the older knights were watching him. Being wiser, and with many years of experience in such things, there was not one among them who did not suspect what Maddoc was thinking. David was brave enough to voice it.

  “What are you thinking, Maddoc?” David asked knowingly.

  Maddoc paused before replying. “I am thinking that de Royans is still a threat so long as he lives,” he murmured. “I will be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

  “That is not true,” Adalind yawned. “He promised he would never return.”

  “And you believe him?”

  She shrugged and yawned again. “He is a knight,” she said simply. “I believe his word just as I believe yours. Maddoc. You must remember that I knew Brighton before all of this. He was an honorable man then. Perhaps he has regained his senses.”

  “Honorable men do not challenge other men for their wives,” Maddoc countered quietly. Then he looked at Daniel. “Where is this church where you left him?”

  Daniel was chewing on a big piece of meat. “A day and half ride that way,” he pointed to the road leading south. “Maresfield, I believe, is the name of the village. It has a big church in the center of town.”

  Maddoc was watching Daniel eat. “You should have killed him.”

  Daniel slowed his chewing; he knew this moment was coming and he prepared himself. “Maddoc, I am sure the man will return to Norfolk,” he said. “I beat him soundly and he was badly injured with a wound to his back. He knows what will happen to him if he shows his face at Canterbury again.”

  “Why did you not kill him?” Maddoc would not let up.

  Tension was rising around the campfire. Adalind, half-asleep, could sense it and she lifted her head, speaking before Daniel could.

  “Because I asked him not to,” she said.

  Maddoc looked at her, rather incredulously. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Adalind could see he was bent on honor, on justice, and her emotions began to rise. She pushed herself off of him, wrapping her stolen cloak more tightly around her as she thought on her answer.

  “Because…” she said, searching for the right words. “I am not even sure I can explain it. Brighton put me through hell for weeks. It… it was as if I had become no better than an animal, fighting him day and night, trying to hurt him so I could escape, screaming and hitting every time he would come near me. I told you that he took me to Arundel.”

  “You did.”

  She continued. “When he took me there, I found a way to escape. I had to; I could think of nothing else. I spent days on the road running from him, hiding out like a common thief, terrified every minute of every day. Even so, he still managed to find me. Daniel found me, too, and he and Brighton had a horrible fight.” Her voice softened. “But as Brighton lay on the ground, injured… it was so strange. It was as if the animal in me went away and I felt like myself again. I felt safe because I knew Brighton could no longer hurt me. And I thought of Glennie, his sister, who had been so kind to me all of those years at Winchester and I knew how badly his death would hurt her. I did not want her to go through that. I had suffered so much pain, Maddoc, but with Brighton… I suppose Glennie saved his life. I asked Daniel not to kill him because of Glennie. Perhaps it is an odd sense of mercy, but I felt it nonetheless. I simply wanted to be away from the man. I was tired of fighting and bloodshed. I wanted to be done with it and if Daniel killed Brighton, his blood would be on my hands and I would never be done with it. I could never forget.”

  She trailed off, unable to explain it better than she had, and Maddoc reached out and stroked the back of her blond head.

  “I cannot say I understand your reasoning, but I respect it,” he said. “Surely you must know that I cannot let the man live. I cannot have that threat against you, against me, for the rest of our lives.”

  She nodded sadly, staring down at her hands. “I know,” she sighed. “I suppose in hindsight, it was foolish to spare his life. I suppose… I suppose I felt that there had been too much pain and suffering all around. It had to stop somewhere. I stopped it with him.”

  Maddoc continued to stroke her hair. “I must find him. And I must kill him.”

  “Maddoc,” Rhys spoke up from across the fire. “I would never question your knightly honor because I understand it all too well, but you are still a sick man. You are still recovering from a very bad wound. Perhaps you should wait to confront Brighton. You have Adalind back and that is the most important thing, is it not?”

  Maddoc glanced over at his father. “You are
speaking like a man who does not want to lose a son,” he said. “If this had happened to your wife, how would you feel?”

  Rhys met his gaze steadily. “It did happen to me,” he said quietly. “When you were about three years of age, Elizabeau was abducted by forces loyal to King John. I spent months searching for her. Ask David and Chris, for they were there. They saw what happened to me. During the course of the experience I transformed into something I never believed myself capable of. I became a hunter, obsessed with finding the woman I loved. I found her, but not without great personal sacrifice. You already know the story.”

  Maddoc nodded seriously. “I know the story,” he confirmed softly. “Forgive me, Father. I did not mean to patronize you. You, of all people, understand my conviction. It is more than justice – it is essential for my survival and the survival of Adalind. I have to do this.”

  Rhys nodded. He, indeed, understood. Then he hung his head. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his son.

  “I know,” he murmured, glancing up at David, at Christopher, and at Gart. The old knights had that same look of resignation that he did. “We all know. We will leave on the morrow for Maresfield.”

  Maddoc shook his head. “There is no need to move the entire army,” Maddoc replied. “I will go alone. You will return to Canterbury.”

  Adalind was the one to leap up first. “I am going with you,” she demanded. “I will not let you go alone.”

  Maddoc could see she was gearing up for a battle and hastened to soothe her. But before he could speak, others began chiming in.

  “I am going, also,” Rhys said flatly.

  “As am I,” David conceded.

  Maddoc turned to the men to dispute them but was interrupted when Christopher suddenly stood up and stretched his big body.

  “We had all better try to get some rest if we are heading to Maresfield in the morning,” he said, looking at Brydon. “You will take the army back to Canterbury with Gerid, Evan, and Trevor. Your father and the rest of us are going with Maddoc. Settle the army in once you reach Canterbury but do not let any of them wander, for we shall not be long.”

  The men started to move, leaving Maddoc sitting there, wondering how he had lost control of this venture. A solitary undertaking was now turning in to a group effort. David pulled Adalind to her feet but Maddoc stopped him from going any further.

  “Where are you taking her?” he asked.

  “To bed.” David lifted his eyebrows. “With me. You did not believe for one minute that I would leave her with you, did you?”

  Maddoc would not be deterred. He stood up as well and tried not to make is sound like he was trying to coerce David into giving permission for something unseemly.

  “I have been without her for far too long,” he said, his voice low. “It is my intention to never let her out of my sight again. That being the case, I suggest you send someone to find a priest who will come here and marry us before the night is through so that when she sleeps in the same bed as I do, you will not want to cut my head off for it.”

  David lifted a wry eyebrow. “Your head is not what I would cut off.”

  Maddoc fought off a grin. “I believe we passed a small church about five miles back. Send Evan and Trevor to retrieve the priest. Adalind and I will wait here.”

  By this time, Adalind was smiling up at Maddoc. “Please, Papa?” she begged. “Will you please do this?”

  David could see he hadn’t much choice. Moreover, if Maddoc and Adalind were truly married, then it would lessen de Royans’ threat, at least in their own minds. She would be safer. And they deserved to be together after all they had been through. Gazing into Adalind’s hopeful face, David knew he couldn’t deny her.

  “What am I going to tell your mother and grandmother?” he wanted to know. “They will be hurt to know you married Maddoc without all of the preparation and ceremony they wanted to give you.”

  Adalind squeezed his hand. “They can still plan a grand celebration,” she said. “We can be married twice. Please, Papa?”

  David’s gaze lingered on her a moment before kissing her on the forehead and wandering off into the darkness, calling out to Evan and Trevor, who were more than happy to rush off into the night for a daring adventure. As the knights got mounted, Maddoc and Adalind stood together by the fire, arms around each other, thinking that this night would finally bring the culmination of their dreams. After weeks of horror, the realization was euphoric.

  Rhys was still sitting by the fire. He hadn’t left when the others had. He was watching his son and de Lohr’s granddaughter, seeing the love and affection between them, appreciating it because it was something he had with his own wife. He knew what it was like to love someone so desperately that you would risk everything for them. A long time ago, he had done just that.

  He stood up, grunting when his weary bones pained him. Maddoc glanced over at his father, not realizing the man had still been present. He’d been so focused on Adalind that he hadn’t noticed. Adalind glanced over as well, smiling at the older man who looked a good deal like Maddoc. They had been properly introduced earlier in the evening, an introduction that had been brief as all of the knights had moved in to help settled the camp. Now, with just the three of them, she had a bit more time to focus on her future father-in-law. She smiled up at him.

  “It is truly uncanny how much you and Maddoc look alike,” she said. “I am so glad to have finally met you. Maddoc has always spoken so highly of you, as has my grandfather. He told me you used to carry two broadswords that you kept sheathed on your back. Do you still carry them?”

  Rhys grinned. “I do,” he replied. “Although I have not used dual blades in years, I still carry them with me just in case I meet a challenge where a single blade will not do.”

  “Have you come across such a thing recently?”

  “Nay, but you never can tell.”

  They shared a small laugh and when they sobered, Rhys’ expression turned serious. “I would like to congratulate you both on your impending marriage,” he said to them. “Maddoc, I will have a lot of explaining to do to your mother about the swiftness of this marriage.”

  Maddoc grinned. “Tell her it was necessary,” he said, then thought on that answer and laughed softly. “Well… not necessary, but important. Aye, that is a better word – important.”

  Rhys grinned. “Important, indeed,” he agreed, looking between the pair. “My wife and I were married hastily also, and it was important. I think she will understand.”

  “I am looking forward to meeting Elizabeau.” Adalind put her hand on Rhys’ arm, sincerity in her expression. “Maddoc has told me of her over the years. I am anxious to know her.”

  “And you shall,” Rhys said with a twinkle in his eye. Then, he looked at his son and his good humor seemed to fade. “This is a momentous moment, Maddoc. I suppose if I could give you any advice it would be to be faithful, be patient, and love her more than anything else in the world. Beyond that, you will have to find your own way in this marriage.”

  Maddoc smiled faintly. “It is something I am looking forward to,” he said, the emotion of the moment not lost on him. There was something else not lost on him and he reached out, taking his father’s hand. “I am so glad you are here, Da. Thank you… well, for everything. You are my rock and I shall never forget that.”

  Rhys touched his boy on the cheek, winked at Adalind, and left them alone by the fire. As a father, his job was finished and as he walked away from the glowing flames, he found himself thanking God that he was experiencing this moment. Up until a few days ago, he didn’t think he would ever see this moment with Maddoc. He cherished it.

  And he further prayed that after Maddoc found Brighton, he would not be left comforting the widow.

  I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…

  In life after life, in age after age, forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The anxiety was building.

  The rains had
cleared out, leaving the days for traveling bright and sunny if not cool. As the six knights from Canterbury and one small lady made their way into the town of Maresfield, the town looked completely different than it had only days earlier. People were out, the sun was out, and everyone was going about their business. But at the appearance of so many knights into the town center where a plethora of clothes washing was going on, people became understandably nervous. That many knights in one place was never a good thing. Trouble was coming.

  Adalind rode with Maddoc. As they approached the church, Daniel spurred his charger on ahead, as did Gart. They dismounted their steeds as the rest of the group approached, heading into the church to scout it out for Brighton. Several seconds after they entered, worshippers came shooting out of the front door, scattering in the street. Maddoc, David, Rhys, and Christopher came to a halt in front of the church, watching people run out of it as if the devil had just made an appearance inside.

  The knights dismounted, feeling the fear from the villagers. It was like a fog, covering them all, spreading out from the church with invisible fingers. Maddoc climbed off his horse and held up his arms for Adalind, who slid down into them. He lowered her to the ground and took her hand, his gaze moving over the large church that was more like a cathedral. He had his own apprehension to deal with, that was true, but only in the sense that he was eager to confront Brighton and settle this matter once and for all. He could feel his father behind him and sensed the man’s disquiet, but he would not acknowledge it. He knew his father was worried. They were all worried. There was no use in speaking of it, mostly because he didn’t want to upset Adalind.

  His new wife had put on a very brave face for the past day and a half. He hadn’t consummated their marriage on the night they were joined, mostly because it had been so late by the time the priest was finished that Adalind was exhausted. She fell asleep before he could make a move on her. Last night, whilst traveling, there simply hadn’t been any privacy for the act with his father and four other knights around, so he and Adalind had simply gone to bed and slept in each other’s arms.

 

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