Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Now, this morning, they found themselves in Maresfield, preparing for something that would either end him or free him. He hoped it was the latter. He was more determined than ever to rid them of Brighton once and for all. The faceoff was coming and he welcomed it.

  At the entry to the church, he paused and turned to Adalind.

  “I will go in alone,” he said softly. “I want you to stay with my father. I promise this will be over shortly.”

  Adalind had held her fear admirably until this moment. She realized he was utterly serious and really intended to go through with it. Perhaps until this moment, she’d held out hope he would back off and turn away. It had been a foolish hope, really; Maddoc never gave up and he never backed down. It was here, and now, and it was real. When Maddoc tried to turn Adalind over to Rhys, she clung to Maddoc’s hand and refused to let go.

  “Maddoc,” she begged, “please… I know you must do this and I understand your reasoning, but I wish you would not. I would much rather have you healthy and whole, looking over your shoulder for Brighton for the rest of your life than a victim of his sword.”

  He smiled and kissed her. “I would not worry so,” he said. “If what you and Daniel have told me is still true, Brighton is as injured as I am. That will make the odds in my favor because I am a better knight than he is.”

  He was trying to make light of the situation but she would have none of it. “Please,” she whispered. “I am so frightened for you.”

  He kissed her again, stroking her cheek with his gloved hand. His wife. He still couldn’t believe it as he looked at her. It didn’t feel like they were married but he intended to remedy that tonight, sleep and travel be damned. When he should have been thinking about the coming battle, his mind turned to sex. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given he was a bridegroom, but most misplaced. Shaking himself of lustful thoughts, he focused on the task at hand.

  “I know you are,” he murmured. “But comfort yourself with your faith in my abilities. You do have faith in me, do you not?”

  She was pouting, brow furrowed and lips puckered. “Of course I do.”

  He held her chin between his thumb and fingers, kissing her on the lips. “Thank you,” he murmured, kissing her again. “I love you, sweetheart. Always remember that.”

  Her pouting was turning to something more, something uneasy and dark. “As I love you,” she told him. “Why do you make it sound as if it will be the last time you ever tell me such a thing? If…”

  Daniel and Gart emerged from the church, crowding Maddoc and cutting her off. “He is still here,” Daniel announced. “I must say that I am rather insulted he was not happy to see me.”

  Adalind rolled her eyes miserably at her uncle’s sense of humor but Maddoc found it amusing. “Where is he?” he asked.

  “The priests moved him into the cloister.” Daniel pointed into the darkened church. “He is to the rear of the cathedral in a long building that serves as their sleeping chamber.”

  “Is he bedridden?”

  Daniel eyed Gart as he spoke, as if the two of them shared a secret. “Nay,” he replied, scratching his neck. “At least, he was not when we came upon him, but he tried to attack Forbes and was summarily beaten back. He knows you are coming for him, Maddoc. The man is unafraid of you or whoever you bring with you as support.”

  Maddoc cocked an eyebrow as he tightened up his gauntlets. “Is he moving well?”

  “Well enough. He was getting out of bed when we left him.”

  “Excellent,” Maddoc said with quiet sincerity. “Then this shall be a fair fight.”

  Without another word, he walked into the church. Adalind watched him take about ten steps before she tried to follow. Rhys held her back but she didn’t take kindly to it so David stepped in and put his arms around her, trying to soothe the very frightened young woman.

  “He shall not be long,” he told her confidently. “He will easily dispatch Brighton and then we shall be on our way home.”

  Adalind was still trying to pull away from him, straining to catch a glimpse of Maddoc in the darkened church. He had faded from her view and she was becoming panicky. He was out of her sight and her imagination began to run wild. She told him that she understood his reasons for confronting Brighton but the truth was that even though she understood, she still did not want him to fight. She was rife with anxiety.

  “We should go with him,” she insisted. “He will need our support.”

  “We can only distract him,” Christopher told his grandniece. “You, in particular, will distract him, sweetheart, and distraction in this profession is deadly.”

  They all seemed rather calm about it, which infuriated her. Adalind turned to the great knights surrounding her, legendary men who had shaped the future of England, frustration and desperation in her expression.

  “How can you be so casual about this?” she demanded. “Maddoc is going to challenge Brighton, a man he has already fought twice. Brighton is more than capable of meeting Maddoc’s challenge and I, for one, am appalled at how… how calm you all are about this. Do you not care for Maddoc more than that? Do you not wish to help him?”

  While Christopher and Gart fought off something that looked suspiciously like a knowing grin, David addressed his granddaughter.

  “Addie, you have been raised with knights,” he said. “You spent years at Winchester around knights and fighting men. You understand their code of honor. You also know that this is something Maddoc has to face alone because if we all go in there to provide support, it will make him look and feel weak, as if he cannot do this alone. Is that what you want to do? Undermine his confidence?”

  She sighed heavily. “Of course not,” she said. “I know he is very capable. But… but can you not help him?”

  “How?”

  She threw up her hands. “Dispatch Brighton for him!”

  “And rob him of the privilege?” David shook his head. “This is Maddoc’s fight, Addie. You must let him fight it alone.”

  He made perfect sense but she was exasperated and furious about it. With a grunt of frustration, she turned away and took the steps up to the church entry but stopped short of actually going in. She stood there, ears straining to catch wind of what was transpiring. She couldn’t hear a thing, not yet. Edgy, she turned to the five heavily-armored men standing at the bottom of the steps.

  “What happens if he needs help?” she demanded. “What happens if Brighton gains the upper hand and it is clear he will win? What then? Will you all still stand around and recite the code of knightly honor as my husband is killed?”

  Out of all of the knights, only Rhys shook his head. “Should it come to that, I will not allow Maddoc to be killed,” he said quietly. “I will step in if such a thing were to happen.”

  “Thank you,” Adalind said sincerely, gathering her skirts and racing down the steps until she stood in front of Rhys. “Thank you for your show of support. I knew you would.”

  Rhys lifted his eyebrows. “He is my son,” he said simply. “I nearly lost him once. If I can at all prevent it, it will not happen again. I do not intend to outlive Maddoc.”

  Adalind decided she liked Rhys very much at that moment, the one man who was willing to step in and help Maddoc should he need it. She wrapped a hand around his elbow, smiling at him. Before she could speak, however, the distant sounds of broadswords could be heard and her stomach lurched. Smile vanished, she turned in the direction of the sounds just as they all did. The sounds of metal against metal were ominous and evil. It seemed as if the entire town had come to halt when the sounds began, everyone hearing the combat upon the wind. But no one heard it more strongly than Adalind.

  “Dear God,” she breathed. “Please protect him.”

  The prayer was not unexpected. David, however, said what they were all thinking.

  “And so,” he murmured, “it begins.”

  *

  The dormitory-like building to the rear of the chapel was large, indeed. It was a single st
ory structure made from the same dark stone as the church. As Maddoc approached, he unsheathed his broadsword just in case Brighton was waiting for him on the other side of the heavy oak and iron door. Cautiously, Maddoc pushed it open.

  He paused a nominal amount of time, allowing his eyes to grow accustomed to the dim interior, before entering. When he did enter, his sword led the way.

  The dormitory was like a great hall, cavernous and sparingly furnished, smelling of smoke and dust. It had a very strong smell. There were a few beds lined up neatly against the walls and as Maddoc stepped deeper into the room, he could see movement on the far end of the room. He came to a halt, facing Brighton, who was standing on the opposite side of the dormitory.

  They were far enough away from each other that it was difficult to make out details, but Maddoc could see that Brighton had on his mail but little else. No plate armor and his head was bare. But his broadsword gleamed in the weak light. Maddoc could see the weapon clearly.

  “Surely you knew that if I had breath in my body, I would seek vengeance against what you did to me and to Adalind,” Maddoc said, his voice echoing off the bare walls. “You must have been expecting this moment.”

  He could hear Brighton sigh on the opposite side of the room. “I was,” he admitted. “I assumed Daniel left me alive so that you could have the privilege of exacting revenge.”

  “He left you alive because Adalind asked him to,” Maddoc replied. “She was given to whims of mercy because of your sister. Know that I have no such whims.”

  “I did not think you did.”

  Maddoc began to walk towards him, slowly and deliberately, his enormous boots crashing against the stone floor like great weighty anchors.

  “It did not have to come to this,” he said after a moment. “Had you simply left Adalind alone, none of this would have happened. See what your lust has brought you?”

  Brighton saw him coming but he did not back off. In fact, he began to walk towards Maddoc as well. “It has brought me heartache,” he said, moving gingerly because his back still pained him greatly. The physic thought there was some organ damage. “I thought Adalind would forget about you. I thought that I could overwhelm her with my charms and, soon, you would be just a sad memory, but I was wrong. Whatever bond you and Adalind have is stronger than anything I have ever seen. It was a mistake to take her, I see that now. But there is nothing I can do except face that mistake.”

  Maddoc came to within ten feet of him and came to a halt. He noticed a big welt on his right cheek, fresh. He pointed towards it with his sword.

  “What happened to your face?” he asked.

  Brighton wriggled his eyebrows. “A big, bald knight with fists the size of a hamhock punched me when I tried to shove him away,” he said. “I do not like being crowded by armed men when I am on my back.”

  Maddoc fought off a grin. “That big bald knight is Gart Forbes,” he said. “He is quite frightening. I am not entirely sure I would not run from a challenge by that man.”

  “Nor I.”

  It was an unexpected moment of levity and Maddoc struggled not to smile. He took a deep breath, sighing heavily as he faced off against Brighton.

  “How badly are you injured?” he asked.

  “Badly enough,” Brighton replied. “And you?”

  “I have been better.”

  “What do we do, then?”

  “I must kill you. You know that.”

  “I am coming to.”

  “Let us get this over with.”

  Brighton lifted his eyebrow. “I am not entirely sure I am overly eager to die,” he said. “Did Adalind come with you?”

  “She did.”

  “You will tell her something for me.”

  Maddoc lifted his broadsword. “Be careful what you say about my wife.”

  Brighton stared at him. Then, he cracked a smile. “So you married her?”

  “Of course I did.”

  Brighton nodded his head. Then, he shrugged. “Tell your wife I am sorry for what I did,” he said after a moment. “I thought I could steal her from you. I was wrong.”

  “You were wrong, about a lot of things. But that ends now.”

  “We shall see.”

  Maddoc simply nodded. Then, he lunged forward and would have cleaved Brighton in half had the man been any slower at defending himself. In the blink of an eye, the epic battle had begun.

  *

  The battle hadn’t been like anything any of them had ever seen – Rhys, David, Christopher, Gart, or Daniel. It was rather astonishing. It was like watching the battle of the titans, for each man was determined to take victory in any way possible. From the moment they heard the onset of the battle, it was truly something to behold.

  It started in the dormitory as any other fight. Maddoc and Brighton were boxed in the structure where it was assumed the fight would stay. But that ended when Maddoc, in the course of grappling with Brighton, literally threw the man through the entry door and the thing splintered. Tangled up in the shards of wood, Brighton had to fight off an intense offensive by Maddoc before he was able to free himself by kicking Maddoc in the knee. Maddoc stumbled back, allowing Brighton to break free, and then the fight was on again.

  Into the cloister they battled, thrusting the heavy broadswords at one another, trying to take each other’s head off. Supporting posts for the arbor got in the way and, at one point, Brighton’s sword became wedged into the wood. Maddoc got close enough to slug him in the jaw and make a grab for his sword as he recovered, but Brighton bounced back and kicked Maddoc in the torso, sending him staggering off balance. It was enough time for Brighton to free his sword and the battle continued.

  The entry from the cloister into the church had been opened by frightened priests watching the fight. As Maddoc and Brighton drew near, the priests scattered and the knights entered the church, swords swinging. Adalind and the others were still standing at the entry to the church, startled when Brighton came flying into the structure from the cloister entrance, stumbling, and rolling several times until he was able to halt his momentum. Maddoc burst in after him, chopping at him with his heavy broadsword and catching Brighton in the shoulder. Even though the man had mail, the razor-sharp broadsword managed to cut him and the first blood was spilled.

  A massive battle ensued inside the church. Daniel, Rhys and Gart went inside to watch, but David and Christopher kept Adalind outside. They didn’t want her distracting Maddoc so they kept her clear of the church, walking her over to the now-empty trough in the middle of the town center in an attempt to keep her calm and out of the way. But from inside the church, they could hear sounds of a serious fight that went on for quite some time until Maddoc suddenly spilled out from the church and tumbled down the stairs.

  Adalind opened her mouth to shriek but slapped a hand over her gaping lips so Maddoc would not look in her direction. She understood well that distraction was deadly so she did her best not to make a sound, even as Brighton came flying out of the church and attacked Maddoc. Maddoc, seeing the man descend on him, lifted his sword to prevent his head from being cut off, but he immediately retaliated and caught Brighton in an awkward position. With a clumsy hold on his broadsword, Brighton’s weapon went flying.

  Swordless, Brighton found himself at a distinct disadvantage so he threw two massive punches at Maddoc’s armored head, as Maddoc had once done to him, and twisted the helm so Maddoc’s field of vision was reduced. Maddoc’s response was to bring up a booted foot and kick Brighton on the side of the head, dazing the man enough so that he lost his balance and fell over. Leaving his weapon in the dirt, Maddoc pounced on Brighton and the sword fight became a fist fight.

  With the closer quarters fighting, the blood began to fly. Both men landed heavy blows to the facial area and soon, both of them were bleeding from noses and mouths. It was extraordinarily brutal as they staggered to their feet and continued the battle. Grappling, throwing punches, kicking and shoving, they battled their way across the town center a
nd ended up collapsing one of the vendors’ stalls on the opposite side of the square when Maddoc literally picked Brighton up and threw him into the wall.

  From there, they tussled to the next vendor’s stall and collapsed that one, too. Brighton became tangled up in a measure of fabric and Maddoc took advantage of it; collecting the heaviest thing he could find, which happened to be an enormous iron pot, he brained Brighton over the head with it and the man went limp.

  As Adalind and the others watched with concern, fascination, and some horror, Maddoc grabbed the dazed Brighton by the arms and began dragging him over to the well. David pulled Adalind well back out of the way as Maddoc lifted Brighton up and shoved his head into the water of the trough. It was a deep trough, with a lot of water in it, and Maddoc held the man’s head under as Brighton, becoming conscious, began to fight for his life.

  Adalind’s hand was still at her mouth as she watched Maddoc hold Brighton’s head under water. The battle, so brutal and crushing, was coming to an end; they could all see it. Sickened, Adalind turned her head, unable to watch as Maddoc struggled to hold Brighton’s head under water. She was thrilled the battle was coming to a close, thrilled Maddoc was winning, but sickened at the fact that she was watching a man die. She’d never seen a man die before. The realization was as eye-opening as it was sobering.

  “For everything you have done to Adalind,” Maddoc grunted as he held Brighton’s head under, “let this be the last time you traumatize the woman. Do you hear me, you bastard? You tried to kill me and now, I will return the favor. But I shall not fail.”

  Brighton was struggling and kicking for all he was worth, but he was in a bad position the way Maddoc was holding him. There was nothing for him to grab on to, nothing for him to hold. His vision began to dim and his struggles lessened, but he lasted longer than he should have. It was another full minute before his struggles stopped entirely and his body went limp. Even then, Maddoc continued to hold his head under water as if fearful the man would rise up and the battle would continue. He needed it to be over.