Fallen Knight

by Dana D'Angelo

  A loud crash sounded behind him, and Derrik came to stand next to Gareth, his breath coming out in harsh spurts.

  “What happ —” He stopped and took in the sight of the twisted corpse. He turned a white face toward Gareth. “The prisoner is dead,” he said, stating the obvious. His eyes dropped to Gareth’s bloody hands. Then he shook his head as if he was denying the evidence before him. “’Twas an accident; he ran and fell off the cliff. That was what happened, was it not sire?”

  Gareth hesitated for a split second and said, “Aye, that was what happened.” He picked the dagger from the ground, and walked over to the nearby stream to clean himself off.

  And so when he arrived at the royal court a few days later, he didn’t tell the king’s advisor the entire truth. His explanation was accepted without question, and Gareth put the matter from his mind, and joined the royal garrison with Derrik.

  Months passed by without any mishap until one day Jonathan arrived at the king’s court, and uncovered his lie. Jonathan still had enough clout to have Gareth thrown into the dungeon. And there he stayed, with his hands and feet chained to the wall until the king found it fit to see him. As he sat in his prison, he cursed himself for withholding the truth. But he knew why he did it. Deep inside he knew that neither Jonathan nor Reuben would have approved of what he did. He should have allowed King Edward to mete out his justice, to let the Grey Knight get a public execution, but seeing Raulf on the ground, sneering at him inflamed his heart with vengeance and hatred.

  “Damn you, Raulf!” Gareth yelled uselessly into the stormy sky. But the wind and the cold, driving rain drowned out his curse, leaving him unsatisfied and miserable.

  A deafening boom rumbled across the sky, the noise ricocheting around him and causing the ground to tremble.

  Gareth stumbled through the mud and rain, seeking refuge under the tree covers.

  He had made the choice to withhold the truth about Raulf’s murder, and at the time, he had no regrets. But now the decision had come back to haunt him, and the one thing he truly wanted was out of his reach. He huddled underneath a tree, his knees drawn tightly to his chest.

  His thoughts reached out to Clarisse, and he felt his throat closing up. Without a doubt, she was locked up in her bedchamber. God knew what her father and brother would do to her. But they were right; he didn’t deserve her. She was too innocent, too sweet to become entangled in his miserable existence. Yet she was a part of him now. Everyone else that he cared about believed that he was false and dishonorable, but Clarisse somehow was able to see past his demons. He didn’t deserve to have a woman like her, however God took mercy on him, and brought her into his life. Yet with that same stroke of mercy, He took it all away. Perhaps this was his punishment for breaking the vow of chivalry.

  Gareth buried his face in his hands and a racking sob took possession of him. And as the lightning flashed overhead, he released all the tears that he had buried, crying for his dead family and for his lost potential. He was sorry about everything. Vengeance and hatred had eaten away at his soul until there was nothing left of him. But then he met Clarisse, and his life changed. For the first time in years, he enjoyed happiness; he was able to forget about his past, and even think about the future. He understood now that even though he killed Raulf, he wasn’t able to bring Reuben back to life. But this realization came too late. He had lost everything that he held dear. Jonathan no longer respected him, and the other knights avoided him as if he had leprosy. Was it worth it? And now along with those things, he lost the one woman who he truly loved. She made him care again. And with that a floodgate of emotions opened, and even the most powerful wine in the land could no longer block out the feelings.

  He stared up at the sky, allowing the icy rain to pelt down onto his face and mingle with his salty tears. He was soaked to the skin and his body shivered uncontrollably. But while his physical body was assaulted by the elements, his mind focused intently within himself. Thoughts of doubt, rage, sorrow, and love all fought against each other, ripping his tormented heart apart.

  “Please, God,” he raised his hands in supplication, and there was desperation in his voice, “All I ask is for one more chance…”

  Chapter 25

  “Why did you meet with Sir Gareth, my lady?” Edith asked. She took the brush in her hand and ran it through Clarisse’s silky hair. “Didn’t you tell me that you were just going to use the garderobe?”

  “I do not know,” Clarisse said, her voice listless.

  Edith finished braiding her hair and held a looking glass up for Clarisse to inspect her handiwork.

  She stared at the image of the solemn woman in the mirror. A single braid was threaded through her hair, forming a crown while the rest of her shiny tresses flowed down her back. The rims of her eyes were red and swollen from crying. And even though there were no more tears to be shed, the heaviness in her heart remained. She pushed aside Edith’s hand and walked over to the window.

  After she met Gareth, she had hoped, nay believed that her life was turning around. Here was a man who cared for her despite the fact that she was soiled. He didn’t judge her, nor did he look away from her with contempt. And for once, she was able to put her past behind her. She started to believe that she could obtain the same level of happiness as Amelie. In the end, she only fooled herself.

  Partially bracing a shoulder against the side of the window, she gazed out into the darkness. There was nothing to see, but she knew that her love was out there. Distant thunder rumbled in the night air and the unmistakable scent of rain filled her senses.

  “Perhaps you should close the shutters, my lady,” Edith said, her voice breaking into the heavy silence in the small chamber.

  “Aye,” she said, although she made no move to reach for the wooden screen. Closing the shutters seemed so final, as if the act would cut off the last link she shared with Gareth.

  She didn’t know what Edgar had done to him. For all she knew he could be locked up in the dungeon. But one thing was certain. Edgar would forbid Gareth from ever contacting her again. Tears welled in her eyes at that thought. Everyone had made it quite clear that she had no choice but to marry Hervey. She wiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. She didn’t have any choices after all. But what choices did I ever have? a forlorn voice inside her whispered. Her mother was furious with her, and her father was ready to marry her off to Hervey at this instant. And soon, Hervey would know about her indiscretion. She didn’t know how he would react; not many men desired to be cuckold before they even got married.

  She couldn’t run away again, because it was already proven that they would just find her and bring her back to her prison. In the end, she would still be forced to marry Hervey.

  Lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the distant hills. Her fingers gripped the window ledge as fat droplets of rain began to fall, the rain hitting the side of the shutters like a spray of pebbles.

  Instead of feeling protected from the storm, the chamber made her feel trapped. All the things that she feared were closing in quickly and threatened to change her life. In a small corner of her heart she had hoped that her father would approve of her Gareth. But it was too much to ask, it seemed. And with that thought, a heavy sigh escaped from her lips.

  Her nursemaid came to stand beside her.

  “I wish that I was a little girl again, Edith. I would be innocent of the brutality of men, and the depressing future that awaits me. Back then, I was content with serving my lady aunt, and exploring the castle with Helewise and Amelie after our chores were done. Life was much easier then. Why must it be so difficult now?”

  “Don’t look so sad, my lady.” Edith reached over and rubbed Clarisse on her back, although the gesture provided small comfort. “Unfortunately the life of a noblewoman is never easy,” she said, her tone sympathetic. “There are others facing the same circumstances, and they have learned to make the best out of their situations.”

  Clarisse heaved another sigh. “So
you keep telling me,” she said before falling silent again. So when a knock sounded at the bedchamber door, they both looked up in surprise.

  “Who can that be?” Edith asked. “’Tis late, and everyone knows that you have retired for the night.”

  “Perhaps ‘tis mother who has come to lecture me,” Clarisse said.

  A second, more insistent pounding sounded and then the door handle rattled.

  “Open the door!” a deep voice said.

  “Sir Hervey,” she whispered, recognizing his distinctive voice. Unconsciously she placed her hands to her mid-section as a sense of dread zipped down to the pit of her stomach.

  “What is he doing here at this time?” Edith murmured. “No man should be visiting a respectable woman in her bedchamber at night. ‘Tis unseemly.” She moved to the door. “I will tell him that you are indisposed.”

  “Nay,” Clarisse said, ignoring the warning in her head. “You can let him in.”

  “I do not think that this is wise, my lady.” Edith frowned at her, clearly not liking the command.

  “He likely only wants an explanation,” she said, trying to convince herself. “I have wronged him, Edith. And the least I can offer is a sincere apology.”

  Her nursemaid sent her another doubtful look, the look almost reflecting Clarisse’s thoughts. Nevertheless, Edith hurried over to the door. Sliding the bar from the latch, she started to pull the handle when the door thrust open. Her nursemaid let out a small shriek as the force of the opening door threw her off balance.

  Hervey stood at the threshold, his hair mussed and a dangerous expression on his face. Without taking his gaze from Clarisse, he said, “Leave us.”

  “I cannot allow —” Edith began.

  “Now.” He turned his dark gaze on the nursemaid. In response, she swallowed and took an involuntary step back.

  Clarisse crossed the room and put a reassuring hand on her nursemaid’s shoulder. “I will speak with him, Edith,” she said calmly although her heart pounded uncontrollably inside her chest. Taking in an unsteady breath, she squared her shoulders. She would face him as if she possessed Amelie’s confidence.

  “Are you certain, my lady?” she said, her eyes clouded with worry.

  “Aye,” she said, “I shall be fine.”

  Clarisse watched as her nursemaid exited from the room. She sensed Hervey’s eyes on her, and only when the door closed, did she take a deep breath and look at her suitor. What she saw made her almost gasp. Edith was just on the other side of the door, but there was little that her nursemaid could do for her now.

  “Why are you here, sire?” she asked.

  He ignored her question. Instead, he said, “Your father has informed me of what happened between you and Sir Gareth.” He stepped closer. “I want to hear it from your own lips — is it true?”

  A flush crept across her face, and when he saw the telltale sign, he closed his eyes. “Clarisse, how could you do this to me? Was it not enough that you humiliated me by running away, not once, but twice?” he asked, his voice cracking with pain and anger. “I had such high hopes for us.” When he opened his eyes again, she saw fury in it.

  “You need not marry me now, Hervey,” she said. “No one is forcing you to do it.”

  “Believe me,” he said with a bitter laugh, “if you didn’t come with such a large dowry, I would turn you out. But I will still marry you, although I need to teach you a lesson.”

  Her heart stopped. “W — what do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” he said harshly. He took a menacing step toward her, and she caught the scent of sour wine on his breath. “You will know that I am master of my household and that I will not tolerate being deceived.”

  “Nay, Hervey do not do this,” Clarisse cried, backing away from him. “I will tell my father —”

  He caught her by the arm and jerked her forward. She let out a small shriek. And before she could think, he bent down and gave her a punishing kiss, forcing her lips to open with his tongue. Her stomach lurched at his touch. His kiss was vile, and it was nothing like the gentle, loving one that Gareth gave her. Although she didn’t love Hervey, she had always believed that he was a just and fair man. Did her actions somehow pushed him over the edge, causing him to become the frightening stranger that stood before her? She felt a chill run through her body, and she began to tremble. This couldn’t be happening again!

  With all her strength, she struggled to pull away, and then suddenly she remembered that she was no longer a helpless child. She didn’t have to take this punishment; she had a choice. With these thoughts firmly entrenched in her mind, she clamped her teeth down on his tongue, tasting blood.

  “Ow!” he cried, jerking back. Almost as a reflex, his hand shot out and the flat of his palm connected with her cheek. A cry escaped from her lips as her head jerked back from the force of the blow. She crumpled to the ground.

  Hervey touched his fingers to his tongue and looked at the blood there. His nostrils flared as temper spewed from his eyes. “So you prefer violence,” he snarled. “I can certainly accommodate that.”

  “Nay,” she got up slowly. She wasn’t as brave as Amelie, but she could still pretend to be like her cousin. Instinctively she knew that she needed to find a way to distract him first before making her escape. “You do not want to do this, Hervey,” she said inching toward the door. “’Tis beneath you to attack a helpless woman.”

  He began to untie the belt around his tunic. But then he stopped. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  At this point, she ran for the door. Hervey caught her by the arm and spun her around. But Clarisse was ready. She kicked out her foot and connected squarely with his crotch. He yelped in pain as he doubled over, cupping his groin.

  “You bitch!” he hissed.

  Run! her mind screamed while her heart raced. But before she could gain any distance, he lunged for her, grabbing her by the waist and dragging her down to the ground.

  In an instant, he was on top of her. Taking hold of the thin material of her gown, he pulled at it. The sickening sound of ripping fabric filled the chamber, and she felt the cool, damp air rushing over her exposed skin.

  Just then, the door burst open and slammed against the wall.

  “What is the meaning of this?” a furious voice boomed across the small chamber.

  “Father!” Clarisse cried.

  Her father stood at the threshold, a guard at his side. With a strength that she didn’t know she possessed, she heaved Hervey off of her, taking him by surprise. And as he lay stunned on the floor, she scrambled up and ran to safety. The expression on Lord Servian’s countenance was livid. He placed a protective arm around her, and stared at the knight as if he longed to throttle him. There was no trace of weakness in his body.

  Edith pushed past the guard and hurried over to the bed. She pulled the woolen blanket off the mattress and rushed over to Clarisse.

  “My lady,” she said, gently disentangling her from her father. Then placing the blanket around Clarisse, she pulled her in a tight embrace.

  “She needed to be punished.” Hervey pushed himself off the ground and stood facing them. He jerked the sleeve of his tunic down with some force, straightening it.

  “You have no right to exact punishment on my lady!” Edith burst out.

  Her father frowned and nodded to the guard beside him. “My man will escort you out of this chamber, sire,” he said. The color was drained from his face, and he looked pale and tired again. “You will not go near Clarisse until you have my permission.”

  The guard stepped forward to grab Hervey’s arm. But Hervey shook off the knight’s hand. He then shot a contemptuous look over at them. “She has to learn at some point that I will not tolerate being cuckold. Better that she learn her lesson now than after she is married to me.”

  With that, he marched out of the room.

  ***

  “Thank you, father,” Clarisse said.

  Her father nodded but did
n’t say anything further. Now that Hervey was gone, her father appeared frail and broken again.

  She tried in vain to keep the blanket wrapped around her, but it was small and didn’t fully cover her. The piece of torn fabric peeked from under the covering. Her father eyed the ripped cloth while Clarisse pulled the woolen blanket tightly against her. The gown she wore underneath was beyond repair.

  “Get her something to wear, Edith,” he said.

  “Aye, my lord,” the nursemaid said, bobbing her head. She hurried over to the trunk at the foot of the bed, and began to rummage through the clothing that was stored there.

  Clarisse’s heart began to speed up slightly when she realized that there was an opportunity here. “Will you now deny Sir Hervey’s suit, father?” she ventured hesitantly, and bit her bottom lip. “You have seen how violent he is. If you care for me at all, you would release me from him.” And you will allow Gareth to marry me. But of course she couldn’t say this. At least not yet.

  Her father looked up at the ceiling, the expression on his face full of conflict. Finally he looked at her and sighed. “’Tis true that Sir Hervey is not the man I thought he was,” he said. “But our family needs him and the extra warriors that come with him.” He ran his fingers through his silver hair. “Your brother has told me of the trouble brewing to the north of our demesne. Lord Dyrwell knows that illness has befallen me, and he is intent on securing our land. As long as he thinks that our demesne is vulnerable, I fear that he will continue to push until we break.”

  “But what if Sir Hervey’s family is not as powerful as he claims?” she said, recalling his earlier revelation about wanting her dowry.