A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2)

by Dana D'Angelo

  “Well, you will need to kill everyone here as well,” Lord Stanbury said, gesturing to the knights who stood watching the exchange with rapt attention. “Those who did not know about your involvement are fully aware of it now.”

  “My followers already know about the scheme,” Roldan said, laughing again although there was no mirth in the sound. “And for those who just found out, they can join forces with me. Those who are not willing will be silenced.”

  Lord Stanbury stared at his brother, his tone frigid. “Tell me, what is the purpose of this scheme against our king? Do you not have enough power and status as the Lord High Steward and as the Duke of Hangrov? People look up to you, Roldan. At one time even I looked up to you.” He spat on the ground as if his words tasted bad. “What is Lord Richard offering to you that you would betray your own monarch?”

  “Always the purist, even when you speak of things that you do not understand,” her uncle snorted.

  “Then oblige me. Make me understand.”

  Roland looked at his brother for a long moment, and then he nodded slowly as if he came to some sort of decision.

  “King Edward is a poor ruler,’ he said finally. “’Tis sad really how our great country has reduced to such a bad state. He is a weak fool, and every year that he languishes in his so-called peaceful times, the enemies close in, capturing the neighboring territories, stealing away precious resources that are rightfully ours. Soon this great kingdom of ours will be nothing.” He shook his head. “Do not look at me like that, Gordon. I am not alone in thinking this. Many people have already sided with Lord Richard, the rightful ruler. Edward’s brother is ruthless and powerful. He is a man that our enemies can fear.”

  “Lord Richard must have offered you a great deal for you to turn against the true monarch.” Lord Stanbury paused. “But you are not telling the entire truth. There is more, I think.”

  “You surprise me once again, Gordon.” Her uncle smirked. “At times you appear dull-witted, but at other times you are quite clever. But aye, you are correct. I have another motive for doing away with you.”

  “You hate me so much, Roldan?” her father said, his voice falling as a note of pain sounded in it. “You would kill me — your only brother?”

  Darkness settled in his eyes. “Aye,” Roldan said calmly. “You will not leave this place alive, I am afraid.”

  Her father heaved a deep sigh and put out a hand. “Boy,” he called out without taking his eyes off his brother, “bring me a sword.”

  The boy dashed over to Lord Stanbury and handed him a broadsword.

  Whatever hurt that her father sustained never showed in his face. He stepped closer toward Roldan. What was her father doing?

  “All right,” Lord Stanbury called out. “So you have come to kill me. Do it, Roldan. Fight me, and let fate decide the outcome. If you die in the skirmish, then justice will be served, but if I die, you will get what you wish.”

  “Stop, Father!” Amelie screamed. “This is madness! Do not fight him.” She moved to come off her horse, intent on stopping him. But Derrik was quick and he caught her arm before she could fully slip off the saddle.

  “Don’t interfere,” Derrik said. She tried to wrench free from his grip, but he only held on tighter. “Trust me on this, Amelie.”

  “Get your hands off me, traitor!” she snapped, tugging at her arm until she broke free from his hold. Once again, she tried to come off the horse, but this time Derrik grasped both of her wrists, holding her prisoner. All she could do was twist her head, and watch helplessly as her father stood in the middle of the yard, his legs spread apart, daring Roldan to fight him.

  Her uncle urged his horse forward. Looking down, he saw it took some effort for her father to keep the heavy sword steady.

  “I am not much of a fighter, as you know,” Roldan said as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “However I see that you are still recovering from your injury. In your weakened condition, I could kill you swiftly. In fact your death will make it easier for me and Edeline.”

  “Edeline?” Fury flared in her father’s voice. “Edeline is married to me. Do not speak of her ever again. You tarnish her name just by saying it.” He stared up at Roldan. “Come off that horse, and fight me like a man.”

  “Do you think I am daft?” Roldan snorted. “I have a greater advantage atop this horse. I may not have military training like you, but I am well versed in fighting strategies. And in this fight, I intend to be the victor.” He then dropped his voice and sounded almost conversational. “For you see, my dear brother, Edeline will have no use for you once you are dead. You have neglected her all these years, and she likely resents you. I will be doing her a favor by killing you.”

  “Neglect?” Lord Stanbury stared at his brother with untold horror and disbelief. “Who told you this lie?”

  “I have ways of finding out things,” he said.

  “’Twas likely Margery who told him,” Amelie’s voice broke in.

  Both men turned around and looked at her.

  “Everyone believed that you were punishing my mother because she could not give you sons,” she continued.

  “Even you believed this, Amelie?”

  She looked down at the ground, unable to answer.

  “Well, ‘tis not true, I love your mother and I —”

  “It does not matter now,” Roldan interrupted. “You will be dead soon enough, and Edeline will be free to marry me.”

  “You bastard,” Lord Stanbury growled. He brought the sword high and began to advance toward his brother.

  “Enough!” a commanding voice came from behind her father. The hooded servant moved forward, throwing the cowl over his head. “There will be no fighting.”

  Derrik’s hold on her arms slackened slightly. And with one hard yank, she freed herself from his grip.

  “Your Majesty,” Roldan gasped. His face paled as he realized the awful position he was in. He looked wildly at Derrik, appealing silently for the knight’s help before he fell to the ground, burying his head into his knees.

  For a second Derrik stared dispassionately at the groveling man. Then he raised his fingers to his mouth and let out a piecing whistle. Suddenly dozens of men dressed in red and purple emerged from the forest and flooded the small farmyard.

  Egbert and his men separated from Roldan’s followers. Those who remained shrank back in fear, realizing that they now stood on the losing side.

  The king’s men, meanwhile, had their weapons raised, waiting for a signal from Derrik.

  Amelie took advantage of everyone’s distraction, and slipped down from her horse. Before Derrik noticed that she was gone, she ran to her father. As she embraced him, she caught a glimpse of pain crossing over her father’s face, remembering too late that he was still injured. She loosened her embrace, but his arms tightened around her.

  “Roldan de Calmette, you have betrayed God, us, and your country,” King Edward said, his voice echoing across the clearing. “I hereby strip you of your status and position at the royal courts, and your dukedom will be no more.”

  “’Tis a misunderstanding, Your Majesty!” Roldan raised his head slightly, holding out his hands, the palms facing upward.

  The bored look that constantly played upon the Lord High Steward’s countenance was gone. In its place was a look of helpless fear, like that of a criminal on the verge of getting his head lopped off.

  “Lord Stanbury is correct in calling you pathetic,” the king said, dismissing Roldan’s pleas.

  “But Gordon was the one who put me up to this, Your Majesty!” Then he stopped, and stared at Derrik, understanding dawning on his face. “You —”

  “We said that we have heard enough!” King Edward roared, cutting Roldan off. “Bind his arms.” His eyes then settled on the guards cowering behind Roldan. “Bind them all up. We leave for the Royal Palace immediately.”

  Egbert and his men moved forward to take away the prisoners.

  “Nay,” Roldan said, stepping
back as the knight advanced toward him. He put out his hands and adamantly shook his head. And then saying louder, “Nay!” He shoved at Egbert’s hands just as the desperation in his voice increased. “King Edward, you are an unfit ruler, a coward,” his voice trembled, all traces of his former monotonous tone gone. “The entire kingdom knows of this. A strong leader would have vanquished our enemies, and expanded our territory. Yet you have led our country to ruin. Even if you kill me, I hope to God that Lord Richard will thwart you, and take his rightful place upon the throne.”

  “No one will overthrow us from our rightful place on the throne,” King Edward said. His face revealed no emotion, but he spoke with an icy calm. “We have captured my wayward brother. And as we speak, he is locked up in the Royal Tower,” he paused, his eyes narrowing, “and his fate will be yours.”

  “’Tis impossible,” Roldan said, his face turning white. “He is too intelligent to be caught.” Shaking visibly, he suddenly was aware of the consequences of his criminal involvement. He locked his gaze with Amelie’s father. “Help me, brother,” he gasped.

  Lord Stanbury shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face. “Do you think that I am a fool? After what you have revealed, you are beyond help.”

  Egbert brought a horse over to King Edward.

  With cursing and sobbing, Roldan and his men were dragged to two guards who waited with rope on hand. In a matter of minutes the traitors were tied tightly from their shoulders to their waists. The excess ropes that dangled from each prisoner were then attached to the saddles of three horses.

  “Sir Gareth, as much as we enjoy your humble lodgings,” the king said, giving the knight a rueful smile, “we certainly crave our own comforts.”

  The large knight gave a slight bow with his head while Derrik and Lord Stanbury did the same. And as the king’s horse lurched forward, his royal troop along with the prisoners fell into line behind him.

  Chapter 35

  “They’re gone,” Lord Stanbury said, his voice sounding distant and defeated.

  “Are you all right, Father?” Amelie drew away from him, her eyes anxiously searching his face.

  Slowly her father shook his head, the only indication that he had heard her question. His mouth was set to a grim line, and he continued to stare at the direction that the king and his men had disappeared.

  He looked like a man who was severely shocked, and Amelie couldn’t blame him. Even she was taken aback by the things Roldan had revealed. She knew him to be a powerful man; she just didn’t know the extent of his ambitions to obtain more power.

  “We no longer need to worry that he will harm us ever again,” she said, hoping that her father would find comfort in her words.

  “Aye,” he said, clearing his throat. Lifting a hand, he brought it to his brow and rubbed at it. The motion seemed tired, and the strength and energy that he displayed earlier dissipated into the air, leaving a man who was mentally and physically beaten. “I need to sit down,” he said.

  Sir Gareth, overhearing her father, looked over at the servant boy and jerked his head. “Take him inside,” he ordered.

  The boy scurried over to Lord Stanbury while Amelie moved aside. He carefully placed one arm over her father’s shoulder, and almost staggered under the weight when the older man leaned gratefully against him. Recovering quickly, the boy placed his other arm around her father’s side and guided him toward the farmhouse.

  Amelie turned to offer her gratitude to Sir Gareth, but she hesitated slightly when she found the knight watching her, his expression unreadable.

  “I did not know how I was going to defeat my uncle,” she said, offering him a tentative smile. “However you saved me from the trouble. And I thank you greatly for your help.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Sir Gareth grunted. He gestured to a spot behind her. “You should thank the green knight over there.”

  “The green knight…?” The smile froze on her lips and she could feel the blood draining from her face. Even without looking at where the warrior pointed, she knew the identity of the so-called green knight. Was Derrik really responsible for all this? He had told her that he had no plans worked out. Yet how was it that King Edward was at the farmhouse, her uncle arrested, and her father no longer guilty of the treasonous charge?

  “Surely you had a hand in it, Sir Gareth?” she said uncertainly.

  “Nay, Derrik orchestrated the entire thing,” he replied in a gruff voice. “You should come inside, my lady. It looks like you need to sit down as well.”

  “I am fine,” she said.

  “Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

  Amelie stared at the knight as he made his way into the small wooden structure. The yard seemed unnaturally quiet, and Amelie was acutely aware that she and Derrik were the only ones remaining. She brought her hands to her head and dug her fingers into her scalp. With a sinking feeling, she couldn’t shut out those terrible words that she flung at him, attacking his character, his honor. There was no way she could take back those hateful words, or to soothe the nasty sting of her insults. Even when she initially spoke those awful words, she knew that she had hurt him. In fact, she wanted to hurt him.

  Derrik had asked her to trust him, and she refused to do it, thinking that he had betrayed her.

  But he didn’t. And now she knew how terribly wrong she was. Dropping her hands, Amelie took a deep breath. She wanted to run into the farmhouse and not have to face Derrik. But her conscience demanded that she apologize to him for her appalling behavior, even though she knew that he would likely reject her apology. Yet knowing this, she still turned and forced her feet to walk toward him.

  He stood by the horses, silently watching her approach, his expression deliberately bland. The short distance felt as if a great chasm appeared between them. He didn’t make it any easier by meeting her halfway, although for this she couldn’t fault him.

  Derrik opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again. He had thought about telling her that all was well, but he hesitated and waited to see what she would say. The things that she had called him had cut deep, and even though he placed a mental barrier to deflect her attacks, a few stinging remarks got through his cerebral armor.

  “I am sorry that I believed that you wanted to ruin my father,” Amelie said in a voice that was low and contrite. She stood in front of him, her head slightly bent. Her eyes settled on his boots and focused on the specks of dirt there. “I was wrong to question your character.” Looking up briefly, she met his eyes. “I was terribly mistaken to say that you lacked honor…”

  “Aye, you were mistaken about me,” he said, his voice displaying no emotion.

  She nodded, her eyes dropping to the ground once again. “I thought you had wronged me. And I wanted to hurt you for that,” her voice broke under the confession. She took in a staggering breath.

  “’Tis all right —”

  Jerking her head up, she said, “Nay, please allow me to finish.” She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “I know the truth now, and I feel horrible for what I said — for what I accused you of. I — I can understand if you will hate me till the end of your days, since even I know that my words are unforgivable.” She blinked rapidly. “And even though I know you hate me, I still want to thank you for all you have done for me — for my father.”

  He watched the display of emotions crossing her lovely face, and when she was done speaking, she fell silent. With her eyes shimmering, she gave him a tremulous smile and started to walk away from him.

  “Wait,” Derrik said, touching her arm and causing her to stop. He turned her to face him. Placing a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up so he could gaze into her beautiful brown eyes. “I don’t hate you, Amelie. I wanted to tell you everything. But —”

  “But you did not trust me,” she said, finishing for him. “I understand.”

  “Nay, you don’t understand,” he shook his head impatiently. “’Twas not about trust. I was under orders from the king to invest
igate your father. But ‘twas a pretense to arrest him.”

  “But I thought —”

  “Aye, ‘tis what everyone thought,” he said, not allowing her to finish. “I knew your father wouldn’t be at Stanbury Castle. And from what I discovered at the castle and at Wykeham, I also knew that your father couldn’t possibly have been the mastermind behind the treasonous conspiracy.” He paused and gave her a wry smile. “I had enough evidence then to return to the royal court, and present my case to the king. However I felt compelled to stay in Stanbury.”

  “You believed all along that my father was innocent…” she said, her eyes searching his face. Slowly comprehension appeared upon her face. “You stayed behind to help him thwart my uncle. I had no idea …”

  “Your father seems to be foremost on your mind,” he said, his lips twitching. “But nay, I wanted to stay because of you.”

  “Me?” a frown creased her brow. The only person in danger was —” Then she shook her head, her face coloring slightly. “I imagine that I did need your help on a few occasions.”

  “On a few occasions, aye.”

  “Then I suppose now that Uncle Roldan is arrested, there is no longer a need for you to stay…” she said, giving him a faltering smile.

  Derrik saw her eyes glisten before she swiftly looked down.

  There was a long pause.

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked. The slow, methodical beating of his heart filled his ears, and he was almost afraid to hear her answer.

  “Nay,” she jerked her head up, giving her head a slight shake. Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I do not want you to go. If you decide to stay in Stanbury, I know my father would be glad to have you join him.”

  He tilted his head and looked at her thoughtfully. “Would he be the only one glad if I decided not to return to the royal courts at all?” The hopeful expression on her face made him smile. But then the image of her suitor came to mind and his brows knitted. “What about the man that I saw you embrace — the one who walks with a limp? Will he not be jealous if I decide to stay behind?”