Fallen Knight

by Dana D'Angelo

  Clarisse passed him on her horse.

  “What do you mean by early?” Gareth said, feeling a bit distracted.

  He watched as the young escort lifted Clarisse off of the saddle and placed her onto the ground. She now glanced curiously at them. An odd feeling churned in his belly. On the one hand, he was glad to be rid of her. But on the other hand, he knew that because they reached their destination, his associations with her would end. She had higher status than him, and she likely had many suitors to vie for her attention.

  “Ah, so you’ve met Lady Clarisse,” Derrik said, following his gaze.

  “I wasn’t asking about Lady Clarisse,” he said, remembering his initial questions. “But now that you mention it, I should have refused to allow Lady Clarisse to accompany me. Unfortunately it irks me to let two women travel on the King’s Highway with only one escort.”

  “’Tis risky for a small group of people to be traveling alone,” Derrik agreed.

  Gareth gave a curt nod. “I’ve lived in this area long enough to know that the outlaws lurk nearby, waiting for a chance to pounce on unsuspecting travelers.”

  In fact as they traversed down the King’s Highway, he was on full alert. At an especially dangerous stretch of land, everyone had fallen quiet, each sensing the potential peril.

  But now that they were past that treacherous area, the earlier playful interaction among the group stopped. Gareth noted that Clarisse became withdrawn, almost sad. When she felt his gaze on her, she looked over and gave him a small smile. Embarrassed at being caught staring at her, he just nodded his head in acknowledgment, but didn’t return her smile. It wouldn’t do to encourage the young woman. But still, he couldn’t help but wonder what was bothering a privileged daughter of a noble lord. Nor could he ignore his physical reaction whenever he regarded her.

  Yet even as his attraction to her intensified, it still annoyed him that he was drawn to her beauty. Golden tresses framed her smooth, pale, and lovely face. Her amber eyes were big and bright, and there was obvious intelligence in there. And when she was amused, the large amber orbs sparkled while a dimple appeared on her left cheek. The only thing that slightly marred her loveliness was a tiny mark that sat mid-way between her kissable mouth and delicate chin. All these details he saw even though he tried hard not to notice anything about her. She was at once sweetly innocent, like the kiss of a soft breeze.

  But there was something more to her as well, something that intrigued him. On a couple of occasions, the expression on her face betrayed a certain darkness, a darkness only someone who had experienced it would understand. He didn’t want to understand her inner pain, but he did. At some deep level, he knew that something horrific had happened to her. And he was convinced that the happy exterior that she presented didn’t necessarily correspond with the turmoil that she hid underneath. But, this was not his problem. He shouldn’t care about her or anyone else. He didn’t come all this way to become entranced by the first woman he came across. There were women more beautiful than Clarisse, yet he couldn’t understand how she was able to make him feel a barrage of emotions. He needed to keep those emotions in check otherwise he would go mad…

  “Gareth?”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, remembering where he was. “What did you say?” he said, sliding off his horse.

  “There are reasons why I told you to come a day earlier,” Derrik admitted, flushing slightly.

  “Why would you do that,” he asked, his frown deepening.

  His friend put a finger to his collar and pulled at it. “You live a distance away,” he said lamely, “and it only makes sense to have you arrive sooner.”

  Gareth sent a dark look at his friend.

  “All right. I admit it,” he said, holding up his hands. “I wanted to integrate you back into society, seeing how you’ve lived in seclusion for so long. There will be many people tomorrow —”

  Throwing the reins to Leofwin, Gareth all but growled. “You had better find a mentor for the boy. After tomorrow, I’m leaving.”

  “Of course, of course, we’ll talk about that later.” He looked over at Clarisse who was heading in their direction.

  “Lady Clarisse,” he said warmly. “I see that you’re acquainted with my friend here.”

  Clarisse responded back with a dimpled smile that lit up her face. For some reason the smile directed at his friend irritated him. Derrik possessed fair looks, and frequently held the attention of the women who made his acquaintance.

  “She’s not,” Gareth said shortly.

  “We’ve only met a few hours ago,” she said politely. “He rescued me from some unruly drunkards.”

  A surprised look crossed over Derrik’s face as he looked over at his friend, but he recovered quickly, and an easy smile fell into place. “I would not assume anything less from Sir Gareth.”

  “We were expecting you to arrive with your family, my lady. However Amelie will be happy to know that you’re here safe,” he said. “As you have both traveled quite a ways, I imagine that you’re tired.” He raised his hand and beckoned for a servant to come over. “The servant will take you to your bedchamber. I’m certain that you would want to rest before supper begins.”

  “I’m certain that I want to finish my business here, and be on my way,” Gareth countered.

  Derrik laughed. “In due time, my friend. You have only just arrived.”

  Reluctantly, Gareth allowed his friend to lead him away.

  “Sir Gareth wouldn’t harm you, if that is what you’re afraid of,” Leofwin said. With the help of a stable boy, he unhitched the three burlap bags that hung over the packhorse.

  Both women turned in unison at the sound of his voice — one with a startled expression while the other with a suspicious look.

  The contents in the bags clanged and clattered as he dropped them to the ground. He twisted his lips to the side, wondering if he should have kept his mouth shut. While he contemplated the penalty for speaking his mind, a servant hurried over to them.

  Leofwin decided to leave things alone and moved to gather up the gear that they had brought with them.

  “I am to tell you that Lord Servian and Lady Chantal are at the gates,” the servant said.

  “My parents are here already?” Clarisse asked, sounding distraught.

  “What did you expect, my lady?” the nursemaid said with a huff. “You knew that they would eventually catch up with us.”

  “I was hoping that they would arrive tomorrow…”

  “Come, my lady,” Leofwin heard the nursemaid say. “We must go, and wait for your parents at the steps of the keep. If they see that we are alive and well, then perhaps their minds will be put to ease.”

  “I will be with you in a moment,” she said. “I want to speak with Leofwin.”

  The nursemaid looked from Clarisse to Leofwin, and then nodded her head.

  “Don’t be long,” she said, and moved anxiously forward. There was no doubt that without the pending arrival of Clarisse’s parents, she would have been less anxious to leave Clarisse’s side.

  Leofwin paused in his task of gathering the sacks, and caught the curious look on Clarisse’s face. He gave her a friendly smile. “You want to know about my master, don’t you?”

  “I am curious about him,” she admitted, blushing. “Even on the journey from Wykeham, he did not speak much. Is he angry with me?”

  “He is in a foul mood,” Leofwin twisted his lips and then corrected himself. “Actually Sir Gareth is always in a foul mood, especially after he drinks.” When her delicate brows drew together in puzzlement, he realized belatedly that he painted an unflattering picture of his mentor. He coughed in his fist, trying to hide his fluster. “’Tis the way he is with everyone,” he amended. “I wouldn’t take it to heart if I were you.”

  He grasped the bags with both hands and tossed them over his shoulder. “I have only been in the service of Sir Gareth for four months,” he continued. “I suppose he could have thrown me out o
n my ear, but he let me stay with him. I told him that I want to be a knight, and he’s going to help me.”

  “He actually told you that he will train you to become a knight?” she asked, awe sounding in her voice.

  Leofwin blushed. “Sir Gareth never actually offered to mentor me,” he confessed.

  “Pardon me? You have a very strange relationship with your master.”

  He cocked his head slightly to the side. He was all ears, since he didn’t know how a page was supposed to act. “How is this strange?” he asked.

  “Well, for one, most pages I know do not speak on the behalf of their masters.”

  “I guess that I’m not like most pages,” he said, his heart sinking. “Sir Gareth killed a man —” He stopped.

  “What do you mean that he killed a man?”

  Leofwin kicked at the stone floor. He was mesmerized by her beauty, and she seemed so willing to listen to him talk. Most of the time he spoke only to himself, but now that he had a willing ear, he forgot himself and perhaps said too much.

  “Well? You cannot just leave me in suspense and not tell me.”

  “I don’t even think I should be revealing this to you.” He looked around, wishing that there was a way he could escape. But unfortunately he trapped himself with his own big mouth. “Sir Gareth killed a royal prisoner — the Grey Knight was his name — and he was accused of lying about the murder.”

  “All that I’ve heard was that he was disgraced and banished from the king’s court,” she said, looking puzzled.

  “That is only half the story,” he said. “For myself, I don’t believe a word of it — about Sir Gareth lying, I mean. But for what it’s worth, the Grey Knight deserved to die.” His eyes blurred and he could feel the sting of unshed tears. “He sacked my village, burned down my house…” He blinked rapidly until he got a grip on his emotions again. “My sire was still sleeping in our home. He was a drunkard, but he never harmed anyone.”

  “And this is why you want to become a knight,” she said softly.

  But that wasn’t the only reason, although Leofwin didn’t tell her. The first time he had seen the knight was when he rode into the village of Blackburn with the legendary Iron Hawk. At that time, he remembered, he wasn’t as enamored with the large warrior. In fact, his village had just been ransacked, and to see more knights ride into the village caused him to become even more enraged. He knew that he was only a boy, and he hated to see his mother and everyone else upset. With anger raging in his heart, and the memory of his dead father fresh on his mind, he picked up some muddy rocks from the ground, and flung them recklessly at the knights.

  When they discovered who had thrown the rocks, he immediately realized that he was in trouble. His mother tried to protect him, but in the end it was the Hawk that spared him — after Leofwin told him everything he knew. Suddenly he realized that not all knights were bad. As they were leaving, Gareth tossed some coins at him.

  And Leofwin threw it back.

  “I don’t want your money,” he said. “I want to be a knight.”

  “A knight?” Gareth said, amused. “You need to grow first. Look me up when you’re a head taller.” And with that, he and the Hawk rode out of Blackburn village in their impressive destriers. It took him a few more years to finally track down Gareth, but he was almost fifteen years old now — almost a man — and he still desired to be a knight. A village boy didn’t have the money or means to become a warrior, but if there was someone who was willing to train him in the art of combat, then he still had a chance.

  “I should go,” Leofwin said, breaking eye contact with Clarisse and turning away from her before she could ask him more questions. She wanted to inquire more; he saw it in her eyes. Unfortunately if he tarried any longer, he would likely bare all of his master’s secrets to her.

  Chapter 7

  “I will wait for my parents in the great hall,” Clarisse said as she joined the nursemaid.

  “But my lady, your parents —”

  “— will pass through the great hall, and they will see me soon enough,” she said, trying to take on Amelie’s authoritative tone. Deep inside, though, she was shaking, but it wouldn’t do to have her nursemaid see this. She moved to go in the direction in which Gareth and Derrik had gone.

  “’Tis not wise, my lady” Edith insisted, compressing her lips. She quickened her pace to keep up with her. “You know that they would not be pleased by this. At least if we meet them first, they will know that you are well.”

  With her familiarity of the castle grounds, she quickly found her way to the great hall, her nursemaid panting at her side, trying to match her pace. As they arrived at the great hall, Clarisse was relieved to discover that it was brimming with activity. A couple of servants were working to replace the spent torches that hung along the walls. At the far end of the hall, another servant was cleaning out the ash from the hearth. Still three more servants were throwing fresh rushes and sweet-smelling herbs along the floor, making the air smell faintly of lavender and fennel.

  She rubbed her hands nervously together. There was nowhere for her to go, and she had to face her parents at some point. She had no doubt that Hervey would be with them. It was only a matter of meeting them now, when they were fatigued from their journey. Or, she could face them later when they were well rested. None of the prospects seemed ideal, since in either case she would hear an earful from her mother. But then the familiar figures of her parents entered the great hall. And with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, she realized that her choice was already made for her.

  In a way, it was probably better that she met them in a public space. At the very least everyone would be civil to one another. Still that small bit of freedom that she experienced while journeying to Stanbury Castle was well worth it. Deep inside she knew that once she married, she would never get another taste of freedom again.

  “We should go meet them, my lady,” Edith said. “I fear that your lady mother doesn’t appear very happy.”

  “Fine,” she said, letting out a small sigh of defeat. “Let us go.”

  Her steps unhurried, she moved toward the small entourage that was now crossing the great hall. Hervey and his page broke loose from the group while her parents followed a few paces behind them. From afar, her parents looked attractive. Her mother was petite and fair with the same golden tresses as Clarisse, although it was now hidden underneath a wimple. Her father, on the other hand, had a grey cast to his face. His shoulders hunched slightly, his youthful strength long gone. She was surprised how much older he seemed. And sicker too, she reminded herself. Since her return to Laventon Castle, her father was a changed man. The winter was a harsh one, and he caught a sickness that weakened him. Though it was now summer, it seemed that he never fully recovered from his illness. Every night, the physician placed bloodsuckers on his skin to withdraw the old blood, but the remedy seemed to drain his energy more than anything. Still, the physician insisted that they continue the treatments to aid in Lord Servian’s recovery. Likely chasing after her would not help with his recuperation, she thought guiltily.

  She could make out their faces now. Her father’s expression was impassive, while her mother’s was more dramatic. Clarisse bit her lip. She wasn’t keen on facing either of them.

  “My lord father, my lady mother,” she said.

  “Why did you not wait for us, Clarisse?” Lady Chantal demanded, ignoring the greeting. The color on her cheeks was high, and she looked as if she was ready to reprimand Clarisse. But since there were too many people around, she kept her words in check. Instead, she beckoned Hervey closer to them. “We spent half the morning searching for you before a servant discovered the message that you left on your bed,”

  “I am sorry, my lady,” Clarisse said, clasping her hands in front of her. She wasn’t sorry at all, but she couldn’t voice that out loud. Still, she couldn’t tamp down the thought that she would rather face a dozen highwaymen than spend more time with Hervey.

&
nbsp; “Your suitor was beside himself with worry.” Lady Chantal reached over with one hand and patted Hervey on the arm. She looked almost adoringly at him. “Were you not, Sir Hervey?”

  “Aye, I worried for you as well, my lady,” he said, inclining his head at her mother.

  Clarisse’s stomach turned at the sight. Lady Chantal beamed at the knight as if he had just gifted her with the greatest compliment.

  “We were all worried about your safety, Clarisse,” her father cut in, his voice sounding raw and slightly out of breath. “You could have been ambushed and kidnapped on your journey here. The last thing we need is to have you held hostage.”

  “’Tis fortunate that I asked the porter which direction you had gone,” A frown marred Hervey’s handsome face. “But what were you thinking?” he asked.

  “I was not alone, sire. Sir Gamel and Edith were with me,” she said, shrinking back from the icy fury that she saw there. She forced her hands to stay at her side and resisted the urge to hug herself.

  “Still, that was a very foolish thing to do,” he said as if speaking to a child. “When we’re married —”

  “We are not married,” she cut in. Seeing the horrified look on her mother’s face, Clarisse softened her tone. “At least not yet.” She pasted a practiced smile on her lips. “I am sorry that I caused you worry, but really, there was no need for it. As I mentioned earlier Sir Gamel was with us, and Sir Gareth provided additional protection as we traveled here.”

  “Sir Gamel is a green knight that just received his spurs, is he not?” Hervey said his tone condescending.

  “Sir Gamel is a fine knight,” Clarisse said.

  “Who is this Sir Gareth that you speak of?” her mother asked impatiently, not wanting to hear the merits of the young knight.

  She gestured to the far end of the hall where Gareth had exited, and was about to explain when she paused. The knight in question was making his way back from the private chambers. As if he sensed her eyes on him, he glanced over to where she stood.