Fallen Knight

by Dana D'Angelo

Holding his breath this time, he slowly, ever so slowly, reached across and wrapped the string around the knight’s right boot and then the left. He looped the ends together and carefully knotted the string.

  “There is too much at stake. I’ll sign the betrothal contract tomorrow when the chaplain is present,” he said, a bitter edge entering his voice. “In the meantime, she’ll learn that she cannot humiliate me like this.”

  Hervey’s threat caused a chill to run down Leofwin’s spine. Whatever the knight had in store, it didn’t bode well for either Gareth or for his ladylove.

  Leofwin yanked the knot tight, pulling Hervey’s boots together. A smile spread across his face. It was done.

  “What the hell —”

  A loud crash sounded behind Leofwin. But he had already squirmed over the bench and hit the ground, running straight to the entrance. Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he saw Hervey pushing himself off from the ground, his face red with fury. The knight plopped down on the wooden bench while he shouted and tugged at the string. Then in spite of his drunken stupor, Hervey seemed to remember that he possessed a dagger at his belt. Unsheathing it, he cut himself loose.

  “Linden!” the knight screeched.

  His page who was back at his game of dice jerked his head up, a startled look upon his face.

  “Don’t just sit there gaping at me, get that dirty bastard!” Hervey shouted.

  The command spurred Linden into action and he scrambled up from the ground and chased after Leofwin. But Leofwin pumped his arms and legs as fast as he could go, ever mindful that the older boy was gaining on him. Veering sharply to the left, he raced down the long corridor. He needed to warn Gareth, but right now he had to save his own life.

  Chapter 21

  “Would it be wrong of me to choose my own husband?” Clarisse asked. She flipped a page in her book, the sound of the parchment crackling in the quiet bedchamber.

  Edith turned a startled gaze at her direction, even though she likely knew that the question wasn’t aimed at her. Clarisse sent her nursemaid a weak smile, and waited for either of her parents to respond to her question. She knew it wasn’t wise to bring up the topic yet again, but she couldn’t remain silent forever.

  Glancing down at the book in her hand, she watched as her finger traced the leather-bound book cover. Since last night, all she could think about was Gareth, remembering his gentle kiss, and how he loved her and made her feel special. He was like no man that she had ever known, and she cared for him. Actually, she more than cared for him; she loved him. She drew in a quick, happy breath since the idea was still new to her. Now she knew the reason why she became more and more despondent at the prospect of marrying Hervey. She had already suffered through many meals, interacting with the knight, and pretending that his words enraptured her. She didn’t know how much longer she could continue with the charade, especially when she felt sick to her stomach whenever she looked at him.

  A small cough sounded over by the window and Clarisse looked up. Her father stood with his hands laced behind his back, staring out the window.

  She carefully closed the book, now regretting that she asked the loaded question.

  “Where is this coming from, Clarisse?” Lady Chantal asked. She sat with her back to the window, the backlighting putting her face in shadow. Despite this, though, Clarisse could readily imagine the expression on her countenance. Her mother put down the embroidery that she was working on. “Ever since Amelie’s wedding, you have acted strange. And I do not know why you are bringing this up again. Have we not already spoken about this numerous times? Sir Hervey is the perfect husband for you. He is kind, charming and —”

  “And he will help us,” her father added. He placed a hand on his chest and pressed on it as a small cough burst forth. Then walking slowly over to her mother, he stood at her side. “The knight has everything that you need in a husband, and he will provide for your every comfort.”

  “The comfort he will enjoy would likely come from my dowry.”

  “Clarisse!” her mother said, shocked. “What has come over you?”

  “I am only stating the truth, Mother. His interest lies only in the generous dowry that will accompany me when I wed.”

  “I don’t see what is wrong with this,” her father said, furrowing his brow. “’Tis a fair exchange, I think. His men will join forces with ours, and our garrison will be reinforced enough to drive the enemy off our land. You already know this. Your marriage to Sir Hervey will assure a strong, solid allegiance between our two families. We could do no worse.”

  His words crushed the rebellion that clenched at her heart, and she began to feel guilty.

  “What if I do not want to marry Sir Hervey?” she asked, her voice sounding small and tight. She clutched the book to her stomach as if the item could protect her from her father’s wrath. He had never been cross with her, but she had seen how he treated his men. There was a reason why he was feared, even now in his weakened state. “Surely there are other options to consider.”

  Edith’s face turned white, shaking her head surreptitiously, as if to warn her to stop while she still had a chance. But Clarisse was feeling reckless. If she didn’t voice her concerns now, then that would mean that she fully accepted her position. And that was something that she just couldn’t do.

  “I thought we had already resolved this.” Lord Servian said, sitting down heavily on the stool next to her mother. “Are you telling me again that you do not want to marry the knight?” His pale face had turned hard, and he looked at her as if she was a stranger. His expression cut into her, and she twisted her lips, unsure how she could phrase her words. She could tell him a lie, and assure him that all was well. But she knew that she couldn’t do this.

  “Aye, I would rather not marry Sir Hervey,” she said.

  Her mother’s face darkened, clearly not liking her answer.

  Clarisse scrambled to think of something else to say. “Things have changed,” she said finally.

  “What has changed?” her mother demanded, her lips pinched.

  “I wish to marry for love.”

  “For love?” her father said incredulously.

  “Aye, for love,” she straightened her shoulders. She felt a sudden shift within herself. For once, she no longer felt like the fearful girl of the past. She was now a woman who held destiny in her own hands. Somehow being with Gareth made her feel that she could go beyond the darkness and embrace a new, brighter future. When Gareth offered to be more than a suitor, she stared at him as if he had spoken a foreign language. But then the implications of his pledge sunk in, causing tears to well up in her eyes. This was what she wanted all long, and her prayers were finally answered.

  Then with Gareth’s promise to speak to her father the next day, she was able to return to the festivities in high spirits. And when it was time for bed, she could barely keep her eyes closed. She didn’t know how long she stared up at the bed canopy, smiling at the thought that very soon she would become Gareth’s wife. The idea that they would produce and raise a brood of handsome children together gladdened her heart. Her knight surprised her on many levels, and the more she got to know him, the more she was certain that her love for him was limitless. So now that she had discovered her feelings toward Gareth, how was it possible to marry anyone else?

  The sound of her father’s wheezing cough broke into her thoughts.

  “Look what you have done to your lord father,” her mother said, sending her an accusing stare. “Get my lord a drink, Edith,” she commanded.

  The nursemaid hurried to fetch a goblet of wine from the side table, while Lady Chantal positioned herself behind her father and began to pound at his back. Soon enough Edith returned with the drink and her father groped for the cup before putting it to his lips and draining its contents. He closed his eyes and allowed the goblet to settle on his lap.

  “’Tis a fairytale that you are suggesting, Clarisse,” her mother said, her words sounding final. She took the empty cup f
rom Lord Servian’s hand. “You know full well that only peasants can afford to marry for love. You are noble born and must do your duty, just as I have done mine.”

  Now that the danger was averted, and her father breathed normally again, her mother picked up her embroidery and continued with her intricate stitching.

  While her mother’s answer should have satisfied her, it didn’t; something inside her just refused to accept it. She knew that her parents cared for each other. And while it was true that they married out of family obligation, they still shared an affection for one another, which was obvious to even the most jaded person.

  She ran a sweaty palm over her gown. “A year ago I would have gladly done my duty,” she announced. Her father opened his eyes to stare at her, and she rushed on before she lost her nerve. “However I witnessed the union between Amelie and Derrik. With them, I saw that love is possible between people of noble birth. Amelie told me herself that she loves her husband. If my cousin can find happiness in a noble marriage? Why can I not have it as well?”

  “Because Sir Hervey is your best marriage prospect,” her mother said sharply. She put her embroidery aside and glared at her. Taking in several breaths, she made an effort to control her emotions. But then she noticed the stricken look on Clarisse’s face, and she changed her tactics, softening her tone slightly. “In time you will have the affection and contentment that you seek.”

  “But what if I do not find it?”

  “Then you accept it,” her mother said, her tone sounding harsh again. “I do not see the point of this conversation. Sir Hervey is a stellar knight, and as your lord father said, you can do worse.”

  Clarisse wanted to shake her head, and tell her mother that she was mistaken. There were too many things wrong with Hervey, and she could spend the entire day listing them all. But that wasn’t what was most important. The most crucial thing of all was that she could never love Hervey, not when she loved another. The way she saw it, the marriage would fail right from the start. If this betrothal had occurred a year ago, she would have gone into the marriage without argument. She might have searched and perhaps even found contentment with Hervey. But it was not possible now.

  Once again a silence descended upon the chamber and the knot in her stomach tightened and twisted.

  “Your mother is correct. Our family is not as powerful as your cousin’s,” her father said slowly, clutching at his chest. “Nor are we as wealthy. What wealth we do have, we must protect. And in order to do that, we must form strong alliances with other powerful families.”

  “I know, but —”

  “There is nothing to argue,” he said, lifting up a hand to stop her from speaking. The coughing spell had weakened him, but his next words brooked no further argument. “The livelihood of our people depends on your cooperation.”

  “But there must be another way to care for our people!”

  His hard stare silenced her. “You will be a dutiful daughter, and will marry the man who I have chosen for you.”

  Her father shut his eyes, the strength in his thin frame depleted. Her mother meanwhile picked up her embroidery again and continued with her fine needlework. For herself, Clarisse opened up her book, but the words blurred in front of her. No one cared that she wanted love in her marriage. No one except for herself.

  Chapter 22

  Edgar de Servian and Reiner de Siville guided their horses through the gates of Stanbury Castle, the horses’ hooves clopping in the quiet courtyard.

  Edgar glanced up at the keep and was awed by its sheer size. Sir Gordon had done well for himself, and it was obvious for all to see in the careful details he placed in his fortification. The cookhouse was large, and even now he could smell the meat roasting in preparation for supper. There was a circular chapel in the inner ward, a structure that contrasted with the straight lines of the walls and towers. Still, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

  One day he would have similar wealth. He just needed to form and solidify the alliances surrounding Servian land. Indeed Servian was not as wealthy as Stanbury, but once the skirmishes were squashed, they would be able to fully utilize the local resources, and bring much needed revenue to the shire. It would have been a little easier to manage the demesne if his younger brother Geoffrey assisted him. But alas after his brother’s accident, he had disappeared without a trace.

  “The ceremony, unfortunately, would be finished by now,” Edgar said, frowning. “The wedding guests would either be resting in their chambers in the castle, or they would return to town.”

  “We couldn’t have made it here any faster, sire,” said Reiner, a guard that accompanied him to Stanbury Castle.

  “Aye,” Edgar said. But still he felt guilty about missing his cousin’s wedding ceremony. Amelie was his most favorite cousin, and he loathed to disappoint her. It wasn’t that long ago that she came up to his knees, but now she was fully grown and married. Suddenly he was reminded of his own duty; he needed to procure a wife and produce an heir soon. His father was ailing, and the future of Servian had to be secured. Perhaps he could ask Amelie for assistance in finding a wife. That solution brought about a flood of relief, and he felt eager to discuss the possibilities with his cousin. But his first task was to apologize for his tardiness, and at least appear to be happy about attending her wedding. If he showed up with a look of disinterest, she would not hesitate to chastise him for it.

  But even though Amelie would dislike hearing it, the truth was that the Servian demesne came first. His father was getting older now, and it was now his responsibility to prevent the neighboring lord from encroaching on his land. For it was his land. Edgar was the eldest son, and he stood to inherit everything. It was fortunate that Sir Hervey de Lyria had lent some of his men to help in their cause. Lord Dyrwell was too cowardly to enter the battlefield himself. He preferred to send his minions to fight his battles. But Edgar cut down his enemy’s garrison commander, and without a leader, his adversary floundered helplessly. While he didn’t relish killing the commanding knight, he knew it had to be done. Either that or he would be the one facing the sword tip. The victory was easily won with help from the allies —

  “After fighting and then traveling for two days, a bath would certainly suffice,” Reiner said, scratching the back of his neck.

  “Agreed,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I should have left you to help guard Laventon Castle. Fortunately, we were able to drive back the interlopers, and we killed enough of the opposition so that they would be hard-pressed to attack us again.”

  “Aye, ‘twould be some time before they’re able to recover from their loss.”

  But they both knew that another attack was inevitable. Still, Edgar was confident that the enemies wouldn’t return any time soon. But in the off chance that they did attack, his garrison commander and the rest of his army would protect his stronghold.

  King Edward didn’t like the warring between his two vassals, but he seemed to ignore the fighting for now. The king had other issues on his mind, bigger issues such as capturing his traitorous brother who plotted to overthrow his rule. And so even if Edgar appealed to the king for help to stop the skirmish, there was no certainty that the monarch would entertain his request. In the end, it was up to Edgar to defend his land.

  He turned to Reiner when they were almost at the stables. “We passed the barracks near the gates, but I trust that you can find your way there,” he said.

  “’Twould not be a problem, sire,” Reiner said, dismounting. “You know where to find me if my services are needed.”

  Edgar nodded. “If the bedchambers are all occupied in the castle, then I may also have to seek a pallet in the barracks.”

  A stable boy ran out to take their horses. The stable was already full of horses, he noted, and many of them were tethered outside the wooden structure. Edgar dismounted as well, and allowed the stable boy to lead his horse away. He paused for a moment to gain his equilibrium. His legs were numb for sitting on the saddle fo
r so long, and he was bone-tired too. But he couldn’t rest just yet. Now Edgar had to seek out Amelie and offer his apologies.

  If he hadn’t promised Amelie that he would be at her wedding, he would have marched his garrison to Dyrwell, and ended the dispute once and for all. But alas, further battling had to wait for another day.

  He looked up at the darkened sky. A storm was coming. Picking up his pace, he headed toward the keep while Reiner continued in the other direction.

  As he made his way across the courtyard, he caught sight of a golden-haired woman near the perimeter of the inner ward. The way she moved reminded him of his sister. He opened his mouth to holler her name. Except he closed it again when a man emerged and embraced her.

  Embarrassed to be spying on the young lovers, he turned to leave them to their privacy, but then he caught the sound of her laugher. He glanced over at the woman again. Something about her nagged at him. She was at once familiar and unfamiliar.

  His intuition had never failed him in the past, and he backed up to the wall, allowing the shadows to fold over him. A moment later, the maiden turned her face in his direction, and an involuntary gasp escaped from his lips.

  Clarisse.

  Then unable to stop it, anger surged to his chest, the sensation so strong that it almost shook him. He had last seen his sister when she was seven years old, and she obviously was no longer the young girl that he remembered. But despite her womanly shape, there was no mistaking the Servian features. He bunched his fists together. Clarisse was playing a dangerous game here, and one that would make a mockery of the family’s reputation. The image he had of her as an innocent child was abruptly taken away from him, and he was left feeling disappointed and irate. She was a maiden, but her actions betrayed no signs of innocence. And who was this man that she embraced? Edgar had never seen him before.

  The couple turned and started to head his way. Moving quickly, he ducked behind a column. Fortunately the lovers were too enraptured with one another to notice him concealed a couple of feet away.