Warrior Knight

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Warrior Knight Page 25

by Paul J Bennett


  “Ignore him,” interrupted Cyn. “He’s all bluster."

  “The assault will soon commence,” warned Sigwulf. “It won’t take long for our siege engines to reduce the walls. Stay safe.”

  “I will," Ludwig assured him. "They gave me in a room high up in the keep.”

  “Then we’ll look for you once we’re in,” promised Cyn. “You just make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said Ludwig. “You two take care of each other. I’ll seek you out once this whole affair is over.”

  “You treat this lightly,” replied Cyn, “but it’s no joke. People are going to die.”

  “I wish the barons understood that,” said Ludwig. “I tried to make them see reason, but they were having none of it.”

  “It’s Lord Stein’s fault,” said Sigwulf. “He’s too stubborn to back down.”

  “Lord Wulfram is just as bad. If only he’d let his daughter marry Hagan, this would all be over.”

  “Marry Hagan?” said Cyn. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “Yes, didn’t you know?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not as if the baron confides in us,” added Sigwulf.

  Ludwig pointed at the canopy. “Did you not hear any of the negotiations?”

  “Couldn’t hear a thing,” said Cyn. “It’s the wind, you see.”

  “Wait,” said Sigwulf. “Are you saying all this death is because his son was spurned?”

  “You can’t blame Hagan,” said Ludwig. “He's never even met Rosalyn.”

  Cyn picked up on the name. “Rosalyn, is it? On a first-name basis with the lady, are we?”

  Ludwig blushed. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh? Tell me, what is it I think?”

  “That there's something between her and me.”

  “And is there?” she pressed.

  “Absolutely not. I can assure you my intentions are entirely honourable.”

  “You seem awfully defensive.”

  “See here, now,” said Ludwig. “I resent the implications.”

  Sigwulf laughed. “Whether or not you agree with her observations, you must admit it looks suspicious.”

  Cyn clasped her hands together, holding them beside her face and making her best impression of a hapless maid. “Oh, Ludwig, save me!”

  Ludwig turned beet red.

  “Ignore her,” said Sigwulf, “she’s only teasing. Now, you'd best get going before Lord Wulfram thinks you’ve abandoned him.”

  Ludwig turned and, with a heavy heart, made his way back to the Baron of Regnitz.

  Lord Wulfram, noticing his expression, waited patiently. “I trust all is well?”

  “I fear the assault will soon be upon us,” said Ludwig, hauling himself into the saddle.

  They began riding back towards the gatehouse, the clatter of hooves echoing off the drawbridge once more.

  “They have yet to reduce the walls,” said Lord Wulfram. “That alone will take weeks.”

  “And then?”

  “Then,” said Lord Wulfram, “we shall match steel against steel, but that's hardly a concern of yours.”

  “And what of your daughter, my lord? What will be her fate?”

  His Lordship turned and gave him a grim look of determination. “If things should turn out for the worst, I would have her take her own life. Better that than become the plaything of Hagan Stein.”

  “Surely not, my lord!”

  They passed beneath the gates and into the courtyard. Ludwig could hear the drawbridge being raised, and then shortly thereafter the portcullis was lowered, locking them in.

  Lord Wulfram dismounted, passing the reins to a waiting warrior. “I’m getting too old for this,” he remarked. “War is for the young, Ludwig. Never forget that.”

  “That said, some of the greatest leaders of all time were older than you are now,” Ludwig reminded him.

  “True, but I find myself ill-suited to our current circumstances. Fear not, I shall do my duty, but things are looking grim.”

  “You see the outcome as inevitable?”

  “I do," admitted the baron. "Don’t you?”

  “Then why fight? Surely it's better to surrender? At least you would still have your life!”

  Lord Wulfram frowned. “And what kind of life would that be? I am a prisoner of circumstance, my friend. To back down now would be to admit defeat and face a lifetime of scorn. Better to die an honourable death.”

  “An honourable death? What is there about death that’s honourable?”

  “There's more than me at stake here, and well you know it.”

  “You speak of Rosalyn?” asked Ludwig.

  “Of course. I would not have her watch her father rot in the dungeons of Mulsingen.”

  “Could you appeal to the duke?”

  The baron shrugged. “It would do little good. The duke is only concerned with keeping his position. Without Regnitz Keep and the income that comes with it, I am of little use to him.”

  “But you have supported him for years?”

  Lord Wulfram held up his hand. “It matters not. Nobles come and go with the seasons, my young friend, something you should become well aware of. Tell me, if your own king were not a cousin, would you be so loyal?”

  “Of course,” said Ludwig. “He’s my king.”

  “Even so, you abandoned him.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? You gave up any semblance of service to the king when you left Hadenfeld.”

  Ludwig felt the guilt hit him like a punch to the stomach. “I suppose I never thought of it that way.”

  “It happens all the time,” said the baron, perhaps to soothe his captive's conscience.

  “Not to me, it doesn’t.”

  “If I may give you a piece of advice?”

  “By all means, my lord.”

  “When this is all over, return home. I think you’ll see things in a new light after your experiences here.”

  “I don’t know that I can,” said Ludwig. “My estrangement with my father—”

  “Will fade in time, trust me. Now come, get off that horse, and let’s go and have a nice dinner while we have no interruptions. Tomorrow the catapults start, and then we’ll never have another opportunity for peace and quiet.”

  24

  Summer

  Summer 1095 SR

  * * *

  Another rock struck the wall, sending shards of stone flying in all directions, the noise reverberating through the courtyard, adding an echo to the already ominous sound.

  Summer had come, but not much else had changed. The endless assault on the walls continued, unabated, day and night, and the defenders were growing weary of it. Lord Wulfram had cut back on the food rations, the better to last through the siege. All within were a little thinner, but life carried on despite the army outside their walls, poised to destroy them.

  Ludwig, high atop the keep, looked down at the confusion below. Even now, after many days of constant attack, Lord Wulfram’s men were still skittish. Hearing footsteps approaching, he turned to see Rosalyn.

  “Anything new to report?” she asked.

  “No, the siege continues, though I daresay that crack in the wall doesn’t bode well. It'll probably collapse sometime in the next few days.”

  She moved to stand beside him, gazing at the activity below. “Why do they not simply finish it off?”

  “A catapult is not an accurate weapon,” he replied. “They’re lucky if two stones land within twenty feet of each other, let alone hope for hitting the same target.”

  “And when the wall falls?”

  “Then they’ll rush into the courtyard, but the keep will still be in our hands, and that’s a formidable obstacle.”

  “How much longer can we last?”

  “A good question," Ludwig said. "I would think your father has a better answer than me.”

  Rosalyn shivered. “If we are to die,�
� she asked, “can you promise me something?”

  Turning to look at her, he noticed the fear in her eyes. “What is it you would have me promise?”

  “I can’t be captured. They’ll do unspeakable things to me.”

  “No they won’t,” he reassured her. “He wants you to wed his son. He can’t do that if you’ve been… injured in any way.”

  “Still, I would rather die. Promise me you’ll take my life and spare me the humiliation?”

  “I cannot do as you ask,” said Ludwig. “For to do so goes against every bone in my body. You'll survive this to see better days, I promise you.”

  Rosalyn's eyes turned cold. “Can you not do this one thing for me? I thought us friends.”

  “As did I, but what you ask is impossible.”

  “I love you, Ludwig. Can’t you see that?”

  Ludwig’s eyes widened. “Love? What do you mean?”

  “I've come to savour my time with you. Tell me you do not feel the same?”

  “I…”

  She moved close enough for him to feel the heat of her as she pressed against him. “Do you not yearn for my embrace?”

  He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back. “I cannot return your affection."

  “Cannot? Or will not? Am I so unpleasing to the eye?”

  “It’s not that,” insisted Ludwig. “Believe me when I say you are, I believe, the fairest maid I have ever laid eyes on.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “My heart is not mine to give. To tell you otherwise would be dishonourable.”

  She stiffened beneath his hands. “Fine,” she said, her voice clipped. “Then we shall speak no more of this.” Rosalyn turned quite abruptly, taking the stairs back into the keep.

  Ludwig let out a breath. His hands were shaking, and he felt as if his whole world had been turned upside down. Did Rosalyn truly love him? He doubted it, but as he looked back on his own past, he realized his love for Charlaine had grown somewhat unexpectedly. Rosalyn was a wonderful young woman, but still… she was no Charlaine.

  “I am destined, it seems, to spend the rest of my life alone,” he admitted to himself.

  “What was that, my lord?”

  Ludwig jumped at the voice, then realized one of the bowmen was talking to him. “Nothing,” he said. “I was only musing.”

  “That’s about all we can do,” said the archer.

  “Have you served the baron for long?”

  “Five years,” the man replied. “I grew up in Regnitz village.”

  “And was your father an archer?”

  “Saints, no. He was a carpenter. I tried the trade, but I don’t have the hands for it.”

  “And thus you became a bowman?”

  “Aye, I did. What of yourself? Did you always know you’d be a warrior?”

  Ludwig chuckled. “I suppose I did. My father trained me in weapons from an early age. What else could I become?”

  “And yet here you stand, a prisoner of Lord Wulfram. It must be galling.”

  “Not at all. I’ve come to find His Lordship a most interesting person.”

  “And his daughter too, I'll warrant.”

  “She is fair, to be honest, but a little on the thin side to my liking.”

  The archer looked insulted. “Are you saying the Lady Rosalyn isn’t pleasing to the eye?”

  “Not at all. Any man would be proud to call her his wife.”

  “Just not you?”

  Ludwig smiled. “I see you understand.”

  “Then what is it? Is it her blonde hair? She gets that from her mother, you know.”

  “In truth, I can’t tell you, for I don’t know myself. There’s just something missing between us. I feel as though she is destined for someone else.”

  “Does she know that? ‘Cause from what I saw, she had other ideas.”

  “Yes, I suppose I should talk to Lord Wulfram about that before there’s any misunderstanding.”

  “You do that,” said the archer. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t wait too long. She’s likely to take your rejection badly. Women do that, you know.”

  “And here I thought you only an archer. You are a wise man, my friend. I shall do as you suggest. Now, I must be off if I am to see His Lordship.”

  * * *

  Lord Wulfram sat in the great hall where the tables were empty, ready to be used to shore up the doors once the final assault came. He stared down at the meagre gruel that awaited him, deep in thought. As the Baron of Regnitz, he could take what food he wanted, but he preferred to eat the same as his men, the better to instill a sense of camaraderie.

  He took a spoonful of the watery fare but tasted nothing as it slid down his throat. He set the spoon aside, the porridge uneaten, for the siege had crushed his appetite, along with his spirit. The approach of a familiar set of footsteps made him look up. Ludwig halted before the table, patiently waiting for Lord Wulfram to acknowledge his presence.

  “Yes?" said the baron. "Is there something I can do for you?”

  “I need to speak to you,” said Ludwig, “on a matter of some delicacy.”

  “You have my attention. What is it? Has Stein begun his attack?”

  “No, at least not that I’m aware of.”

  “Then out with it, man. I haven’t got all day.” The baron then let out a chuckle. “On second thought, I suppose I do. I find all this waiting to be quite tedious, don’t you?”

  “I do,” said Ludwig, “though that's not what I’m here to discuss.”

  “Then best you get on to whatever the subject is.”

  “It’s Lady Rosalyn, my lord.”

  “Oh?" said Lord Wulfram. "Is something wrong? She hasn’t fallen ill, has she?”

  “No, she’s in fine health, as far as I’m aware.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m afraid I might have inadvertently given her the wrong impression.”

  “About what?”

  “About my feelings for her.”

  The baron sat back in his chair. “And what are your feelings towards my daughter?”

  “I harbour none, other than friendship, my lord.”

  “Then how is that a problem?”

  “I fear she might have mistaken my intentions for something of a more intimate variety.”

  “Intimate? Are you trying to say she’s falling in love with you?”

  “So it would appear," admitted Ludwig. "I tried to dissuade her, but I fear she may have taken it badly.”

  “How bad?”

  “I can’t say for sure, my lord, but I’m worried she might prove hostile to further conversation.”

  Lord Wulfram leaned forward, unable to sit still. He rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Now, that is very interesting. What, precisely, did she say that led you to believe she felt that way?”

  “She told me she loved me.”

  “Well, I suppose that erases any chance it was a simple misunderstanding. Where did this happen?”

  “We were up on the top of the keep, my lord.”

  “Look, Ludwig, if we’re going to get through this conversation in a decent amount of time, you’re going to have to stop calling me ‘my lord’. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, my… I mean, yes.”

  “What did you say in return?”

  “That my heart was not mine to give.”

  “Meaning?”

  “That I’m in love with someone else.”

  “Ah," said Lord Wulfram. "I presume that’s the reason you left Verfeld?”

  “It was.”

  “Might I ask what happened to this other woman? Did she die?”

  “No, she joined the Church.”

  “Saint Agnes?”

  “Yes,” replied Ludwig. “As a Temple Knight.”

  “A Temple Knight? Truly?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well,” said Lord Wulfram, “you certainly know how to pick them. I suppose she wasn’t a member of the Chu
rch when you first met her?”

  “No, she was a smith.”

  “A smith, you say? This story gets more and more interesting by the moment.”

  “I thought it best to be honest with you, Lord.”

  “Honest you may be, but obviously it’s time to put aside your feelings for this woman. After all, she’s beyond your reach now, isn't she?”

  “I don’t know that I can,” said Ludwig. “She awakened something in me, something I didn’t even know I possessed.”

  Lord Wulfram blushed. “Well, that’s what women do, my young friend.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. What I was trying to say is she showed me a world full of possibilities, that I can chart my own path in life.”

  “She must have been a remarkable woman.”

  “She was," insisted Ludwig, "but I fear my remembrance of her will overshadow anything I might experience in the future.”

  “Perhaps it’s time you buried the past.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You are the son of a baron," said Lord Wulfram. "As such, you must marry and produce an heir.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “My daughter would make an excellent match for you. By your own admission, she already holds you in high regard. Could you not learn to love her in return?”

  “Possibly, in time, but I could not contemplate such a marriage in my present state. It would be unfair to her.”

  “You still have the passion of youth,” noted the baron. “Eventually, you will come to see your duty.”

  “Duty,” said Ludwig. “Why does it feel like such an onerous word?”

  “It's what drives the nobility, my friend. Nobility without duty is nothing but chaos.”

  “You speak of duty, but what of your duty to your subjects?”

  Lord Wulfram was taken aback. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Surely, as baron, you swore to protect them, did you not?”

  “What gave you that idea?”

  “Are you not charged by your liege lord to watch over your people?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” said Lord Wulfram. “The only oath I took was to collect the taxes on behalf of the duke. My tenants are there to serve me, not I, them. You have such strange ideas for a baron’s son. Is that the influence of this woman you spoke of?”

 

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