Timeless Tales of Honor

by Suzan Tisdale

  Arissa barely saw Richmond bring the broadsword up in front of Tad, a swift upstroke that cleaved the wooden staff in two equal pieces of kindling. Before she could draw another breath, Tad was left holding two measly sticks where had once been lodged a mighty pole.

  Richmond displayed a faint smile at Tad's astonished expression as he sheathed his weapon. "As you were saying?" he asked drolly.

  Tad, jaw slack, gazed at the two pieces of wood in his fisted grasp. His mouth closed and he swallowed hard, focusing Richmond with a look bordering on anger.

  "You.... you never gave me a chance," he stammered. "That was not a fair fight!"

  Richmond's smile vanished. "Fair enough. Since you leave with your life, you may consider it a victory on your part. But know that my mercy only applies once. The next time, I will do far more than make firewood out of your staff."

  Tad dropped the remnants of his weapon. "You would not be so brave if I was bearing a sword, le Bec."

  "But you are not, and I am growing weary of your spoiled antics," he turned toward Arissa. "Come, my lady. The archery competition is about to begin."

  Shaking with fury, Tad watched Richmond lead Arissa toward the game field. Being humiliated in front of the lady was bad enough, but being shamed in the presence of his men was a nightmare. He could feel their stares on his back, silently laughing at the arrogant young knight. He knew they thought him to be a fool for challenging Sir Richmond.

  Damn le Bec! Certainly, his actions would not go unchallenged. Tad knew that the archery competition was a perfect opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of Arissa and his men alike. He had signed on as a competitor earlier in the day and was quite confident that he would emerge the victor. Sir Richmond would suffer a taste of his own medicine. Worse, even.

  With an angry grunt, Tad kicked aside the pieces of staff and stomped in the direction of the archery field, a distorted sense of vengeance flooding his soul.

  He would pay.

  * * *

  By the time Arissa and Richmond reached the archery field, the entire area was swarming with excited guests and soldiers. There were no lodges to house the crowd as was usual in competition, so the majority of the audience settled to the north side of the field, forming a semi-circle around the targets constructed for the competitors.

  Penelope, Emma and Regine were waiting for her. Richmond silently led her to The Horde, depositing her in the midst of the chatty young ladies. Arissa turned to him, tongue-tied since the moment he had so easily dispatched Tad de Rydal. Truthfully, she was so awed by his display that she hadn't known what to say.

  Richmond met her gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And now, my lady, I shall proceed to win this competition in your honor."

  She grasped him before could turn away. "Richmond," she stammered, swallowing when he refocused his blue eyes on her. "I.... thank you for defending me against Tad. If you hadn't come along when you did...."

  "I was always there," he said softly. "You should know by now that I am my lady's shadow."

  Her cheeks washed a lovely shade of pink and she smiled shyly. "I know that. But, still, I am glad you were there to save me."

  His gaze lingered on her. "I will always be there to save you. Always."

  He strolled away, leaving Arissa flushed. It was amazing how their relationship had changed since his arrival yesterday. Warm looks and gentle gestures that had meant nothing but companionable fondness in the past had suddenly taken on a heat she could not describe. She had convinced herself earlier that all of it was a figment of her over-active imagination, a young maiden's unattainable wish. Now, she was not so sure.

  "What did you mean when you said he saved you from Tad?" Emma was suddenly tugging on her sleeve.

  Jolted from her thoughts, Arissa turned to her friend. She remembered Emma's expressed desire to meet Tad and silently cursed herself for having been so forgetful. She should have thought of Emma when Tad had approached earlier, but she had been so desperate to escape Richmond that she had completely overlooked the fact.

  In truth, she was glad she hadn't remembered. She did not think the sweet, youthfully-pretty girl to be the conceited knight's idea of beauty. She would rather have Emma angry with her forgetfulness than for the young woman to have experienced Tad's cruel rebuff.

  "I.... Tad was a bit too eager to impress me, I believe, and Richmond cooled his manner. 'Twas nothing, really." She hastened to change the subject before Emma could press. "Do you know that he asked who the pretty young girl was in the blue surcoat? Since Penelope is wearing yellow, I assumed he meant you."

  As she hoped, Emma's face positively glowed. "He did? Oh, Riss, you must introduce us!"

  "What about Gavan?" Arissa cocked an eyebrow.

  Emma waved her hand impatiently. "Gavan isn't here. I haven't seen the man in months. When Richmond arrived without his second-in-command, I would assume I must find my male companionship elsewhere."

  Arissa repressed a smile. For Emma to speak of her cherished knight so callously was comical, indeed. And completely untrue. But she played the game for her friend's benefit.

  "So you have decided to forget about Gavan. 'Tis understandable, truly, considering he’s been away so long that he’s probably forgotten about you," when Emma's face flushed a dull red, Arissa struggled to suppress her wicked grin. "As for Tad, my darling, he’s terribly shy. In fact, the only reason he addressed me was because we had met earlier and he felt comfortable in my company. Do not be disappointed if he does not show an immediate interest. Why, I think...."

  Regine suddenly thrust herself forward, her blue eyes bright. "Riss, I am wearing a blue surcoat, too. Mayhap he meant me!"

  Arissa gazed at her younger sister, noting that she too was wearing a blue dress. The original lie to ease her friend's feelings was suddenly growing in unattractive directions. Before she could respond, Emma was whirling on Regine.

  "Of course he did not mean you!" she snarled. "You are a child, Regine, a mere child. A man of Tad de Rydal's station would not be interested in you."

  Regine put her hands on her plump hips, meeting Emma's scowl. "Is that so? You are no prize either, Emma Trevor. Why do you think Daniel chose Penelope over you?"

  Arissa cleared her throat loudly, separating the combatants before the situation grew ugly. "I am sure he meant Emma, Regine, simply for the fact that she happens to be older and more...." she glanced at Emma's rounded breasts as opposed to the two peas underneath Regine's bodice, ".... womanly."

  Flushing madly, Regine turned away as Emma grasped Arissa's arm eagerly. "When will you introduce us, Riss? Did he say anything else about me?"

  Arissa was beginning to think her attempt to lighten Emma's mood had been a very bad idea. She had meant well, truly, but she could see that Emma was not to be satisfied with a tantalizing bit of un-truth. She struggled to contain her friend's excitement.

  "Nay, Emma, he did not," she said firmly. "And I do not want you making a spectacle out of yourself. If you are too eager, you shall chase him away. You must be aloof and calm."

  Emma looked extremely disappointed. "Aloof and calm?"

  Arissa nodded confidently. "It is the only way."

  "Aloof and calm," Emma turned her blue gaze out toward the field of competitors. From the look on her face, she appeared to be suffering from a sour stomach. With great reluctance, she sighed heavily. "Aloof and calm."

  Arissa nodded again, relieved that Emma was not going to rush Tad and make a fool of herself, and returned her attention to the event at hand.

  Two marshals, indicated by the armbands they wore, were making sure that all of the competitors listed were on hand. Daniel and Carlton were competing, as was virtually every other able-bodied knight from the various visiting houses. Since the competition was open to everyone, even a few peasants had decided to try their hand, looking sadly out of place amongst the glorious knights.

  But hardly a soul cared. Peasant or noble, they were on equal turf when it came to the
archery contest and Arissa's excitement was growing. As she and her group vied for a better view of the field, her mother and father came strolling upon them, dressed to the teeth in their finest. Lady Maxine and Lady Livia followed on their heels.

  "Arissa, my dear," her mother said sweetly. She was a warm and loving woman, if not a bit dense. "Maxine has the ribbon you will be awarding."

  Maxine held out the exquisite piece of work, a blue ribbon embroidered with gold in honor of the Lambourn colors. Arissa took the prize with great care.

  "Come along," her father took her arm. "We have a choice viewing area reserved for us."

  Choice indeed. The roped-off area with two chairs was almost directly in line with the straw targets, affording the entire group a birds-eye view of the event. Lambourn soldiers kept the rabble away as the earl and his wife gained their seats, watching with anticipation as the marshals positioned the first collection of contestants.

  Daniel, Carlton and Tad were in the first group. Lady Maxine waved demurely to her strong husband, who responded with a bold wink. Penelope merely gazed dreamily at Daniel, who carried her favor tucked obviously in the crease of his breastplate. Emma and Regine spent their time eyeing Tad and each other. Only Arissa was not focused on anyone in particular. She leaned toward her mother.

  "Did you know that Richmond is championing me in this event?" she asked.

  Lady Maude fanned herself daintily with a silken fan, painted with birds. "As he should, dear. 'Tis only right that Henry's greatest knight champion the honoree."

  "He shall win, too," Arissa glanced over her shoulder at Penelope and stuck out her tongue. Penelope returned the gesture.

  A small horn blared, readying the competitors for the first round. All attention was riveted to the field and the noise level dropped. Men finished their wagers in the remaining few seconds before the match began.

  Arissa's pale green eyes were fixed on the field before her, mildly interested in spite of the fact that Richmond was not in the group. As the field marshals began laying down the rules, her gaze wandered the crowd of waiting contenders until she came to rest on a tall, familiar figure.

  Richmond was not looking at her; his blue eyes were fixed on the field before him as they should have been. Arissa began to toy with the ribbon, stroking its carefully stitched edges as her glittering eyes beheld the object of her adoration.

  The incident earlier that day returned to the forefront of her thoughts again. Fluid, wicked emotions stirred and her limbs began to ache with the newness of the desire that he had managed to spark. The fact that she had practically seduced the man was of little concern; she was focused on the mere idea that he had responded to her. She wondered if he would respond to her again. Given another chance, she would most likely do the same thing again.

  Where Richmond was concerned, it was becoming increasingly difficult to control her emotions. She remembered thinking yesterday to distance the man, to forget him. Goals that were now impossible. She had been a fool to ever think such a thing.

  She was leaving for Whitby after the New Year and she vowed to know the feel of Richmond's lips upon her own before that time, if only for a brief, glorious, stolen moment. She would live on that moment the rest of her life.

  * * *

  There were hundreds of people observing the archery matches, milling about, wagering and laughing. Two men in particular wandered through the crowd casually, their seasoned eyes roving the people, the wenches, and the finely dressed men. They were older men clad in peasant clothing, concealing their mail and weaponry underneath. Their gaze seemed particularly riveted to Arissa.

  "Is that her?" one man murmured to the other.

  The second man passed a casual glance in the direction of the earl's party. "She looks nothing like Henry. God's Balls, she could be Welsh."

  The first man shook his head slowly. "She does not bear the features of a Plantagenet. Is Owen sure with his information?"

  The second shrugged. "As sure as he can be. She’s where Owen's source said she would be, in the heart of Berkshire's family, and she’s the correct age. Fortunate that the earl saw fit to throw her a lavish party and we were able to slip in with the other celebrants."

  The first man looked doubtful. "It doesn't matter. Any great house shelters sickly travelers, which is what we are," he shook his head at the sight of Arissa's black hair. "She must favor her mother. Where did Owen's source come by his information?"

  The second man watched his feet as he walked. "It all began with a letter. A former captain for King Richard, seeking vengeance against Henry for usurping his cousin's throne," he adjusted his hood as the wind blew it away from his face. "If the information regarding the girl's existence is correct and we manage to abduct her, Owen is most eager to use her to his advantage."

  The first man nodded slowly, his eyes still roving the crowd. Suddenly, he came to a halt.

  "Do you know who that man is?" he nodded his head in the direction of a very tall, very broad knight. When the second man indicated negatively, he continued. "You have heard of Richmond le Bec, no doubt."

  The second man took another look at the massive man. "That is le Bec? God's Balls, I thought he was dead by now."

  The first man took off walking again, followed closely by the second. They guided themselves deep into the crowd, away from the competitors and away from Richmond le Bec.

  "He’s Henry's most powerful knight next to Northumberland," the first man hissed. "There must be a reason for his presence."

  "There is. Henry probably sent him to convey his best wishes to the girl."

  The first man shrugged. "Could be. But if Richmond le Bec is here as Henry's liaison, 'twill make an abduction more difficult. Undoubtedly, he will be protecting her."

  The second man scratched his head, mulling over the possibilities. "We will simply have to wait for an opportunity, I suppose. If one does not present itself, then we shall return to Owen with the confirmation of his information. There is nothing more we can do if Richmond le Bec is here as Henry's watchdog."

  The first man drew in a long, thoughtful breath. "Keep her in your sights, then. We will not want to miss our chance."

  Re-adjusting their costumes, they faded into the crowd.

  Five

  Daniel, Carlton and Tad survived their first round. Richmond competed with the second group of contenders, easily making the cut. The afternoon progressed as two more groups of first-round competitors came up for their turns, and the marshals singled out the most accurate shots and set them aside with the others who had endured the cut.

  Arissa bit her lip as Richmond came up in the second and third rounds, sailing arrows as straight and true as God himself. Once, as he reloaded his bow in the second elimination round, he had glanced over his shoulder and cast her an obvious wink. Lady Maude caught the gesture and fanned herself furiously, thinking it was meant for her. Arissa had almost laughed.

  The field of contenders had narrowed dramatically by the fourth round. Daniel was still a viable player, but Carlton had been ousted in the third set. Tad stood alongside Richmond and three other finalists as they prepared their weapons.

  Arissa's heart was lodged in her throat as she watched the contestants assume a striking stance. Richmond was by far the tallest man in the crowd, a good head above the rest. Her gaze never left him, lulled into the fantasy world she so frequently entered when gazing upon his masculine beauty, and she had drifted a thousand miles away by the time the marshal abruptly lowered his arm. Startled back to the world at hand, she watched as the arrows went roaring toward the distant targets.

  The crowd cheered their approval as five projectiles embedded themselves into the straw. After the marks were closely scrutinized by the officials, Daniel and two other men were eliminated. Richmond and Tad were to face off against one another.

  "I am surprised you have lasted this long, le Bec," Tad muttered as he adjusted the tension on his bow. "With your eyes ravaged with age, I was not at all sure yo
u could see the target."

  Richmond did not reply as he tightened his glove. Then he resumed a firing stance. "Unlike you, I do not have to see my mark in order to hit it."

  "What kind of nonsense is that?"

  "'Tis no nonsense, I assure you. With age comes a skill you have yet to acquire, the sixth sense of a warrior. Visualizing the target in your mind; literally seeing without the use of your eyes."

  Tad looked at him as if he were mad. "Foolishness, le Bec. Not only are you blind, you are senile as well."

  The corner of Richmond's lips tugged. "Mayhap. But while you are hindered by your eyesight, I can see the mark perfectly within my mind's eye. I sense it; therefore, I will not miss." He raised his bow, leveling out his arm. "You rely too heavily on your senses. Learning to rely on your intuition is the mark of a truly great warrior."

  Tad passed him a peculiar glance as one of the marshals approached. As was tradition, when the field had narrowed to the final two entrants, one man would shoot before the other in a show of good sportsmanship.

  The marshal muttered a few words to Richmond and then motioned to his comrade positioned by the target to relay Richmond's readiness. When the second marshal returned the ready signal, the first marshal returned his attention to Richmond and took a step back.

  "You may commence, my lord."

  Tad watched with astonishment as Richmond's blue eyes, which had been narrowed intently on the distant mark, suddenly closed. It never occurred to him that Richmond's quietly uttered boast had been God's truth. Blind as a bat, he was aiming for a mark over one hundred yards away as if it were directly in front of him.