England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection

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England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 27

by Kathryn Le Veque


  Ellice grasped her niece by the elbow and the four-man escort rushed to pull the woman away. Only a swift word from Courtly stopped them from breaking Ellice’s arm.

  “Nay!” she cried, holding up her free hand. When the escort froze, uncertain, she turned to her aunt. “Auntie, why are you here? How did you know to find me here?”

  Ellice hadn’t grasped her niece to hurt her. She had grasped her to emphasize her point. “Because your father knows that you are with Sir Maximus,” she hissed. “I came to warn him. Where is he?”

  Courtly felt as if she had been hit in the chest. She exhaled sharply in shock and grasped the chair next to her, weaving unsteadily. She was overcome with astonishment and fear.

  “Sweet Jesὑ,” she breathed. “How did Papa find out?”

  Ellice actually steered her niece into the chair and sat heavily next to her. The older woman’s face was grim.

  “One of the soldiers he sent on the escort to take you and Isadora back to Trelystan returned to say that you had escaped in the town of Woodstock, just north of Oxford,” she said. “He also told your father how the House of de Shera had intercepted the escort and had demanded that you be turned over to them. According to the soldier, St. Héver chased them away but you escaped that night. It did not take a genius to deduce where you had gone, Courtly. Kellen knew you returned to Maximus.”

  Courtly was pale-faced as she listened to her aunt, sick to the core. “Where is Papa now?” she asked. “Is he coming for me?”

  Ellice shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “De Montfort summoned him to Warborough Castle. I was there when de Montfort’s messenger arrived and I heard everything he told my brother. Your father specifically asked if the House of de Shera would be present and the messenger said that they would, that all of de Montfort’s allies would be there. As your father was gathering his escort, he was mumbling about ‘killing the true enemy’ and I do not believe he meant Henry. I think he meant Sir Maximus. It is my belief that he somehow means to do Sir Maximus harm.”

  Courtly gasped, shocked and horrified. “He would try to kill him?”

  Ellice nodded. This wasn’t easy for her, either. Her brother was still on the brink of madness and with Courtly’s disappearance from the escort meant to take her back to Trelystan, and to safety, Kellen only saw one person to blame –Maximus. All of the madness and blame was on the middle de Shera brother.

  “I believe so,” Ellice said. “Is he here?”

  Courtly had tears in her eyes. “Nay,” she breathed. “My husband has already gone on to Warborough.”

  It was Ellice’s turn to look stunned. “Husband?” she repeated. “You married him?”

  Courtly nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes before they fell. “We were married yesterday,” she said. “I love him, Auntie. I love him with all my heart. I cannot allow Papa to do this. I must got to Warborough and warn him.”

  She stood up with the full intention of charging off to Warborough but Ellice grabbed her, preventing her from moving. Jeniver, too, put her hands on Courtly to stop the woman from running off.

  “Nay, Courtly,” Jeniver said gently but firmly. “You will not go. We will send one of our escort to him. He will ride faster than you can, moreover, he will know where to find Maximus.”

  Courtly turned to Jeniver and burst into tears. “My father will try to kill him, I know it,” she sobbed. “Mayhap he is already moving against him!”

  Jeniver wiped at the woman’s tears. “Maximus will be on his guard around your father,” she assured her. “You know that he is on his guard around everyone except his brothers. He will not give your father the chance to cut him down. You must have faith.”

  Courtly was terrified, struggling to stop her tears. “Please,” she begged softly. “Send a man to warn him. Send him now.”

  Jeniver swiftly turned to the head of the escort, but the man had already heard the tale from Ellice and was prepared. He selected a young, slender soldier, one who would be light on a horse and ride like the wind. Already, the plans were in motion. Maximus had to be warned that Kellen de Lara was out to kill him. As the de Shera soldier fled to the livery behind the inn to collect a horse, Courtly turned to her aunt.

  As she gazed at the woman, she realized that she was seeing a completely different woman from the one she had known all these years. The frightening, bitter, old aunt had become a surprising ally and Courtly could only manage to feel deep gratitude. She reached out to clasp Ellice’s rough, worn hand.

  “You came to warn me at great risk to yourself,” Courtly murmured. “Please know how grateful I am, Auntie. If Papa throws you from Kennington because you have helped me, then you may come to live with me at Isenhall Castle. You will have a place to go, I swear it.”

  Ellice’s cheeks flamed a bit. She wasn’t used to kind words and was very awkward with anything sentimental. The best she could do was squeeze Courtly’s hand, struggling to find the words to respond.

  “What my brother did to you was not right,” she said. “Although his behavior has been inexcusable, please know that he had… reasons for his manner. I do not want you to think he is simply a selfish madman.”

  Courtly cocked her head curiously. “What reasons?”

  Ellice wasn’t willing to divulge all she knew. If Kellen wanted Courtly to know, he would tell her in his own time. Ellice didn’t feel that it was her place to speak.

  “Someday he might tell you,” she said. “It is my genuine hope that he comes to see the error of his ways. Now that you have married Maximus, I hope that he will indeed come to accept your relationship with the man.”

  Courtly thought on that, her expression reflecting what she thought was a hopeless feat. “But you believe he goes to kill Max,” she said. “I do not see how he can accept our marriage if he is mad enough to kill for it.”

  Ellice wasn’t sure what she could say to that statement because it was true. If Kellen was mad enough to kill, as Ellice believed he was, then the situation would not end well. Maximus de Shera could out-fight anyone in England, Kellen included, so Ellice was fairly certain that Kellen would soon be dead if he wasn’t already. But perhaps that was what the man had planned. To ultimately end the relationship between his daughter and Maximus, perhaps he would let Maximus kill him. After that, what woman would remain with the man who killed her beloved father? In a small way, perhaps Kellen would have the last word in all of this. Certainly, it was something to consider. Perhaps in death, Kellen could end a relationship he couldn’t end in life.

  Ellice wondered.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  1.7 miles east of Warborough, near the village of Shillingford

  The battle lines were drawn.

  Almost two miles east of Warborough Castle, the army of Simon de Montfort intercepted the army of King Henry. In fact, the armies had known they were nearing one another for some time and the lines had already been drawn and the troops placed. Standards of great houses blew in the breeze as rain intermittently fell, punctuated by periods of bright sun and clear skies. It was all rather strange but it made for beautiful weather at times, at least clear enough to see the standards of opposing houses as they flew straight and firm in the wind. It was clear that a battle of epic proportions was lining up.

  When all was said and done, Simon had more men but Henry had the advantage of de Winter archers. They were the best in England. As Maximus, Gallus, and several other knights watched from a ridge just above the troop lines, they could see the archers being placed. Maximus guessed that Davyss, or his younger brother, Hugh, was placing the archers because it was strategic. They were behind the infantry and when the sun would come out from behind the clouds, they could see the glint of the archer shields. This would make the battle more interesting.

  As the knights sat and watched, trying to gauge what Henry’s army was doing so they could better place their infantry, they were joined by several other barons. William de Wolfe was one of them. The legendary Wolfe of the North, fath
er of the de Wolfe twins, Scott and Troy, had joined Simon’s army with one hundred men he’d brought with him from the north. It wasn’t a good deal of men but, given that they served The Wolfe, it was a crack-squad of soldiers. Just one of de Wolfe’s men was as good as five regular men.

  De Montfort was on horseback, watching the distant army and surrounded by Paeton de Royans, the de Shera brothers, and several other men as de Wolfe approached. When Simon saw William, he motioned the man towards him.

  “My lord,” Simon addressed him formally, purely out of respect. “Have you been watching our friends across the field? They have many archers.”

  William, a handsome, older man with dark hair, dark skin, and an eye-patch over his missing left eye, studied the army in the distance. As he did, his sons, who had been back behind Gallus, gravitated towards their father. The de Wolfe men gathered together for battle, strength on strength, and William acknowledged his sons before turning his attention to Henry’s army.

  “They are positioning the archers very far back, almost near the tree line,” William said, and everyone was glued to every word he said. The mighty Wolfe was speaking. “If I were a betting man, it would tell me that the archers are going to cover the infantry as it moves forward.”

  On the other side of de Montfort, Gallus grunted in agreement. “De Winter has been known to do that,” he said. “He will shower us with arrows while his infantry charges forward and then we will be fighting off a hail of arrows and unprepared for the infantry when they finally come upon us.”

  De Montfort looked at Gallus. “Then what do you want to do?” he asked. “Have you seen enough?”

  Gallus nodded, his eyes still on the distant army. He turned around, looking at the tree line about a quarter of a mile behind them. “Get the men into the trees,” he said. “That will take the advantage of the archers away from them because the canopy will stop the arrows for the most part. We, however, will place what few archers we have at the very front of our lines to cut down de Winter’s infantry as it approaches. That should give us a tactical advantage.”

  The Thunder Lord had spoken. Word began to spread back through de Montfort’s lines and soon, eighteen hundred men were moving west by a quarter of a mile, forming lines just inside a long band of trees that stretched, north to south, for about two miles. As they moved, they could see Henry’s army, with the de Winter banners flying, following them, hopefully to close the gap. Or it was even possible that they thought de Montfort was retreating. However, when Henry’s army came to the crest that de Montfort had been on and saw the tree line in the distance, and de Montfort’s men buried within it, they came to an immediate halt. Now, they understood why de Montfort had moved. The odds were now even – it would be infantry against infantry.

  De Winter pulled the archers back and his men were given the order to draw swords, the flashes of which could be seen in the sunlight. Gallus and the other commanders, realizing that Henry was going to take the offensive, gave the orders for their men to draw weapons as well. The knights thundered back to their troops and unmuzzled the war horses, nasty beasts that would bite and kick and trample the enemy to death. The smell of battle was in the air as the knights slung their shields over their left knee, the usual place for them when heading into battle for easy access in close-quarters fighting. And, from the looks of it, they would soon be in the middle of exactly that type of battle. Blood was coming.

  Maximus remained with de Montfort and de Royans as Gallus and Tiberius headed back to their men. William was to the south of the de Shera troops and the Lords of Canterbury, represented by Maddoc du Bois, were on the other side of de Montfort to the north. Maximus could see the great knight at the head of his men, in full battle armor, and he was rather regretful that he’d been unable to converse with the man before they rode to battle.

  Maddoc and Stefan had spent most of their time together, in Maddoc’s tent, while Maximus had spent his time with de Montfort. Even now, Stefan rode with his father, as Gallus had given him permission to do so. It seemed that all of the sons wished to see battle alongside their fathers, as the de Wolfe brothers rode with William as well. It gave Maximus reflection, wondering if he would ever know a son who would ride with him to battle. He truly hoped so.

  But his thoughts moved back to the battle at hand, away from thoughts of a strong son and avoiding thoughts of his wife. He couldn’t think of her now, knowing that a distraction such as that could be deadly in his profession, but it was inevitable to think of her and, in so doing, to also think of her father. Kellen de Lara had been placed to the extreme northern end of the battle lines, far away from the Lords of Thunder and far away from Maximus. Gallus had made this so, fearful of what would happen if the two men came together. Gallus has done such a good job of placing Kellen that Maximus hadn’t even seen him or his troops. The man blended in with the rest of the infantry.

  De Montfort, of course, knew nothing about any of this and probably wouldn’t for quite some time. It was inconsequential, truly, when the fate of a country hung in the balance. In fact, thoughts of Kellen quickly faded as Maximus noticed the de Winter standard runner bearing the flag for the infantry, signaling them to advance. Now, the battle was to commence in full and he muttered the fact to de Montfort just as Henry’s infantry, along with several knights, began to move across the field towards them. Maximus looked over his shoulder to Gallus, several feet away.

  “They are moving,” he boomed to his brother. “Do we ride?”

  Gallus lifted his sword. “Signal all infantry and knights,” he bellowed to the standard bearers who were behind the first row of infantry. “Charge them!”

  The standard bearers spurred their horses, riding in front of the lines, two men heading south while one headed north, signaling the men to move. And move they did. Holding back a secondary, smaller line of infantry, the majority of de Montfort’s troops charged Henry’s army, who were moving rather slowly across the field. Once they saw the charge of knights and infantry coming at them, however, everything changed. They ran right at them.

  The clash was deafening when the two armies collided. The Lords of Thunder charged in full-force with Tiberius being the first one to cut down an enemy knight bearing Teutonic-designed armor. More than that, de Montfort’s men saw very quickly that a good portion of Henry’s troops were not English. By the design of their weapons, tunic, and mail, it was clear that they were either French or Teutonic. Foreign enemy troops on English soil simply made Gallus, Maximus, and the rest of them extremely angry. Then, it became a bloodbath.

  William de Wolfe, astride his big, black charger, had gone after a group of foreign soldiers with a vengeance. Scott and Troy rode with their father, cutting down men and battling two big, enemy knights with fairly expensive armor. When an enemy knight managed to unseat Troy, Scott and William closed in on him and between the two of them, nearly gutted the man. He fell to the ground, dead, as Troy remounted his steed and took the dead knight’s animal as a prize. But the fighting didn’t end there.

  Maddoc du Bois was a man who had inherited his father’s fighting skill. He also carried dual swords like his father used to, and his father had been famous for them. Maddoc managed to direct his horse with knee pressure alone, a very exacting skill, while the dual blades sailed through the air with deadly purpose, severing limbs and heads on occasion. Stefan, fighting alongside his father, managed to kill a pair of mercenaries that were trying to yank his father from his steed – one man, he used his sword on but the other man had the misfortune of having his head nearly ripped off when Stefan grabbed the man by the hair. It was a brutal battle as the du Bois men made short work of the mercenaries they encountered.

  Maximus was in heavy fighting near the center of the battle. He was encountering both mercenary and de Winter troops and trying very hard not to kill the de Winter men. The sun had clouded over again and rain was beginning to fall and, at one point, he thought he caught a glimpse of a knight on horseback who then disappear
ed behind a group of mounted soldiers. He didn’t think too much about it although he couldn’t help wondering where Davyss and even Garran were in all of this, because he was positive they were here. He just hadn’t seen them yet.

  What Maximus didn’t know, however, was that someone with ill intent, had him in his sights.

  The Thunder Warrior was his target.

  Kellen had been watching for Maximus ever since he had heard that the Lords of Thunder had arrived in de Montfort’s camp. He knew the man would stay close to de Montfort, and he had, but now in the midst of a battle, Maximus was somewhat on his own. Tiberius and Gallus were fighting near him, as was usual with the de Shera brothers, but de Montfort was back in the trees with the second line of soldiers, letting his seasoned, battle commanders do most of the heavy fighting.

  While Gallus and Tiberius engaged soldier after soldier, Maximus was going for the kill. He had a nasty-looking sword with a jagged edge that he used to slice men’s heads from their bodies. There were already several headless bodies around, a tribute to the man’s strength and skill. But Kellen wasn’t concerned with that. He was simply concerned with making his way to Maximus and killing him in battle.

  Death in battle was expected and Kellen was certain he could kill Maximus undetected. There were hundreds of men around but no one was paying attention to him and, certainly, Maximus and his brothers and friends were busy with their own private battles. Therefore, Kellen was certain he could accomplish what he had set out to do. With a crossbow in his grip, he began to make his move towards Maximus.

  There was no other way, of course. He’d tried everything to keep Courtly away from the man but she was acting more and more foolish. He’d tried to send her home but she had run off, directly to Maximus, Kellen was sure. He was equally sure that his daughter was completely under de Shera’s spell. She was more than likely his whore. He’d tried so hard to prevent it but, in the end, the lure of Maximus has just been too strong for his weak-willed daughter.

 

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