“Let us go to him,” the knight said, stumbling after me.
When we arrived in the room Tahira immediately flew to Uncle John’s side. Robert had scooped water from a nearby pot and Tahira took it and began to wash my uncle’s injuries. Sir Chris came to a halt in the doorway and stood like a statue, staring at my uncle’s battered form.
“You must be a man, Sir Chris,” I urged. “I love the baron too. Go and see if one of the guards has keys to these shackles.” He nodded and went out. Robert went with him. A few minutes later they returned, shaking their heads. “One who fled must have had them,” Robert murmured.
Sir John turned feebly and saw Sir Chris. “Nay, Frenchman, I understand well enough that you have been my captor, not my rescuer. I shall sign nothing for your gain and my son’s loss,” he said. “Take your schemes to Hell with your soul.” Sir Chris started violently and wrenched off Hugo Brun’s helmet.
“My lord, it is not the Frenchman,” I assured my uncle. “He is a good and true knight who dressed so to help us get to you.”
My uncle saw that it was so and relaxed. “But how can we get you free?” I asked helplessly.
“Well, there is always this way.” Sir Chris strode over to the Baron of Colchester and bent down. His huge hands took hold of the chain on my uncle’s right wrist, grasping it near where it was locked to the floor. He braced himself and began to pull. I cried out in dismay and Tahira gasped. Robert watched in stoic silence. My uncle lifted his head a little and we all saw the muscles bulge in Sir Chris’s back beneath his layers of clothing. He pulled steadily until the chain snapped loose in his hands. Sir John gave a little grunt.
“Your pardon, my lord,” Sir Chris whispered. “I would not hurt you for the world.”
“Hurt me more, good knight, an’ you can get me free of these chains,” Baron John said grimly. “At first I feared … but I see now … I see…” He trailed off and looked hard at Sir Chris. “Can it be?” he whispered.
“Let us loose you, my lord,” Sir Chris murmured, turning his head away. He bent over the chain on Uncle John’s left wrist and repeated his astounding feat. The chain popped apart with a loud report and Sir Chris staggered back from it. Tahira, Robert and I helped my uncle to roll over and sit up. I glanced anxiously at Sir Chris but found on his face an expression so mixed, of pain, of concern, of something I could not begin to guess the meaning of that I dared not ask what was in his mind. He rubbed his hands and flexed his giant arms and shoulders.
“Never have I seen such strength,” Robert breathed.
“Only in one, I have,” Baron John murmured, trying to get up. “Forgive my addled wits. I know not even what I see anymore.”
“Be easy, my lord,” Sir Chris said in a low voice. “I think your wits are very little addled. What you see is what is.”
The Baron of Colchester started. “Help me up, my Hope,” he ordered. Tahira, Robert and I all supported him and he got on his feet. I wondered why Sir Chris did not move to help us. I thought he must be turned to stone to remain unmoved by my uncle’s feeble struggles to approach him. My uncle staggered forward and raised his arms.
Then it was that Sir Chris came to life. His arms shot out and the two men locked in an embrace of such passion and intensity as I had never seen. And Sir Chris wept. Neither of them spoke a word. They just stayed thus a long, long time and Sir Chris went on weeping like a broken-hearted child.
“The Frenchman must be on his way by now,” Robert said at last. “We must get away from here.”
Sir Chris drew a long, shuddering breath. “That we must, young earl,” he nodded, gently removing Baron John’s arms from him. “My lord, there will be time for more of this later. Now we must try to bring this quest to a good end. Whatever happens, know that I love you.”
The Baron of Colchester nodded. Sir Chris beckoned to Tahira and me and we took my uncle’s arms. To Robert he said, “Out back are horses that no doubt belonged to the guards,” Sir Chris said. “We shall need one for the Baron of Colchester.” Robert hurried outside and we gathered our own horses under the protection of a ruined stable that stood half-roofed in the outer yard and offered a little cover from the blinding downpour that had burst upon us as we left the castle.
Robert startled us all by seeming to appear out of the deluge with one of the mounts left behind.
“You can ride, sir?” Sir Chris asked Baron John. “I think so,” my uncle replied. “But where are we to go?”
“You will go nowhere but to the grave,” boomed a voice. Hugo Brun stormed up on horseback and raised his sword. Tahira screamed in terror. Hugo Brun halted in mid-stroke and stared at her. “This is a better outcome than Ah could ‘ave planned,” Hugo Brun sneered. “The knight of the black lion shall be found with the dead bodies of Lady ‘Ope and Baron Colchester. It will be easy to persuade the king ‘e killed them. Ah was only able to rescue the earl’s son and the ‘elpless Arab lady, ‘oo gave ‘erself to me in gratitude. Ah will ‘ave you back, little one, and punish you for running away.”
“No, no!” shrieked Tahira.
“I will not be a part of your plan, false knight,” Robert cried.
“You are already a part of it!” laughed Brun. “You live off the spoils of mah ‘ ‘oly quest,’ boy. You have no choice but to go along, or see your father ruined and exiled.”
“Let it be so, then!” Robert retorted. “I will fight you myself!” Robert struck at Brun but the giant Frenchman easily unhorsed him and Robert lay on the ground, stunned.
Sir Chris dug his heels in his horse’s sides and darted between the Frenchman and us, ramming Ariel’s mighty shoulder full into his bay. “I am more than the knight of the black lion,” Sir Chris taunted as Brun’s horse toppled and he crashed to the crumbling pavement stones. “I am also the Christian dog you thought you had torn apart in the desert. We both got away from you alive, Frenchman. And you shall not win this time, either.”
“Ah think perhaps you are more even than that,” Brun said warily, getting to his feet. “It is good that you will not live to tell why you so persistently meddle in these affairs. You are strong, Englishman. But ‘ow strong can you be after all that ‘as ‘appened in the past, and all you ‘ave already done just this day? I see you weave and your sword falter even now. You cannot ‘ope to beat me.”
Sir Chris dismounted and faced him. “Let God judge which of us should live past today,” grated Sir Chris. “I have the greatest hope He will choose me.” They faced off and began to circle each other. There was hardly an ounce of bone or muscle difference between them. They charged forward and began to lay into each other with swift, powerful sword blows. I dimly saw the earl and some of his men come up to the inner wall opening as they fought.
The earl took one look at the Baron of Colchester standing with us and Robert stunned on the ground. He seemed to see it was time to change sides. He cried out for Hugo Brun to surrender. He ordered his men to stop the battle. He called for the four of us, trapped in the ruined inner courtyard behind the fighting pair, to be brought to him. But no one heeded him. It seemed impossible to make the two combatants stop, so intent were they upon their battle. I could see that the earl’s soldiers dared not interfere.
On and on the battle raged. Sir Chris bled everywhere, I fancied, and he stumbled and gave ground to Hugo Brun. Robert woke suddenly and got up to stand beside me. I saw a look in his eyes I had never seen before.
“I heard what you said to your knight on the road, Hope,” he said softly. “He is more than worthy of your love and I never was worthy. I am honored to have served with him. I pray God will forgive me for the evil I have done and allowed my father and Hugo Brun to do.”
He gazed at me, then at the two men fighting. Then he drew his sword and sprang into the fight, thrusting as hard as he could at Hugo Brun. The Frenchman screeched in rage as he took the sword in his side, turned, and felled Robert with a blow that nearly severed his arm from his shoulder. The battle between Sir Chris and Brun fa
ltered for a moment. The earl’s men dragged Robert clear and Tahira ran to try to tend Robert’s wound.
That moment’s distraction, and the wound Robert had given Hugo Brun, gave Sir Chris the advantage he needed. He landed a crushing blow on the Frenchman’s neck, just where his helmet joined his ill-fitting, borrowed body armor. I looked in horror as the helmet shifted to one side and made it look as if Sir Hugo Brun’s head had grown lop-sided upon his shoulders. He wavered and crashed to the pavement.
Sir Chris reared back and thrust his sword downward between the plates on Hugo Brun’s chest. It struck armor, pierced it, struck armor again, and clanked against the stone pavement. Sir Chris released the blade and left it there quivering. There were those who said later that it took three men to extract the sword from Brun’s body and that it had actually cut through the stone and buried itself in the earth. He sank down onto the ground and just sat there. The rain stopped suddenly and I saw the clouds part and rays of glorious light filter down as if they were God’s banners waving over my victorious champion.
“Oh, Sir Chris!” I ran and embraced him, almost falling into his lap and upsetting us both. A thrill surged through me as he hugged me back, fiercely, and whispered into my ear, “Aye, my lady, I love you, too. That I do.” Then he pushed me away and stood up. “Go and see to the young earl. He needs your comfort more than I just now, or I much mistake.” I left him at once and hurried to kneel beside Robert.
Tahira could not stop the bright pumping flow that coursed from his shoulder. He looked at me in a daze. “I was so wrong, Hope,” he said. He tried to stroke my hair but his hand fell limp on my shoulder. “Forgive me,” he whispered, and died.
The earl cried out in anguish. Tahira and I left Robert and turned to Sir Chris. We looked from him to the Baron of Colchester and did not know whom to help first. Then soldiers wearing the insignia of Godwin came rushing up.
“Nay, we cannot be too late!” exclaimed their captain, a graceful, handsome fellow with a wealth of golden curls and shining blue eyes who ripped off his helmet and stared around in dismay, his sword seeking for something to fight. He made me think of what Robert might have been as a knight and I missed some of what he said in a wave of grief.
“… Others of the tribunal have arrived, and Lord Godwin is freed. He bade us come at once to your aid, but…” He stopped and looked foolish. Then he dropped onto one knee before Sir Chris as I helped him struggle to his feet. “Lord knight, my master bade me say he will welcome you as his chief retainer if you would honor him so,” he said hastily. “He comes behind us and will say the same. Having seen what you have done here, I say he chooses wisely.”
“Thank your good lord for me,” Sir Chris laughed weakly. “But I must decline. I have pressing business elsewhere which will take all my time for a long time to come. I must see to my father, and I must get me a wife.”
The soldiers bowed to him and left us alone, saying they would fetch a litter for Uncle John. “Your father, Sir Chris,” I exclaimed. “I did forget in all this uproar that you must still go to him. But will you ... Will you come back to us afterward?” I faltered.
Sir Chris glanced at Uncle John. I wondered why my uncle smiled so. “Let me ask my father what I shall do next, lady,” he said cryptically. “But first, I mind me it is time to quit this ruin. Come, let us go.”
Chapter Fifteen: A Homecoming, A Blessing, Reunions Aplenty
Benedicat tibi Dominus, et custodiat te.
Ostendat Dominus faciem suam tibi, et misereatur tui.
Convertat Dominus vultum suum ad te, et det tibi pacem.
The LORD give you happiness and make you secure;
The Lord make His face shine upon you
and give you grace;
The Lord turn His face toward you
and grant you peace.
Numbers 6:24-26
Lord Godwin’s men were such a great help to us. The earl surrendered to them and some took him back to his castle. Lord Godwin arrived just a few moments later, with a whirlicote carrying his lady and my mother and plenty of comfortable wraps to bear the Baron of Colchester away. He begged to be taken home to the manor and we could not refuse him. The manor was not so ruined as I had thought. The outer buildings were destroyed, of course, including the servants’ houses. The kitchen and great hall were badly scorched. The handsome oak paneling and screens were damaged. The solar and its side chambers were hardly touched and the soldiers made sure all was safe. Sunlight streamed into the windows and warmed the cold, blackened stones. Fires built in all the fireplaces cheered the house greatly. We were able to make up beds for my uncle and my mother. A physician came along by Lord Godwin’s order.
We learned that Simon, our old seneschal, had lived through the Frenchman’s attack on the manor. The attackers had apparently cast him off in the road, thinking him dead, and some people a few miles away had cared for him. He had only just recovered enough to tell who he was and get them to bring him back to us. But once he was back at home he was back at work. He insisted he was done with “that lazy lying about.”
Lord Godwin took his leave of us, promising to return soon to hear my uncle’s testimony concerning all that had happened. Before he left I made sure to tell him of the treasure room Robert and I had found at Colchester castle and what Robert had said about the earl’s part in Brun’s plans. I saw my mother safely to bed behind a hastily rigged screen of soldier’s pikes and surcoats and changed into a pale blue underdress and simple white bliaut and cap. Then I went out to the main solar to Uncle John’s bed. He shooed the servants away. I noticed that a Godwin tunic lay beside his bed. I had seen the captain of the Duke’s guard stripping his off at Colchester Castle to cover my uncle’s rags as we had bundled him into the whirlicote. Holding out his hands to me, he beckoned me to approach the bed. I did so very slowly and hesitatingly.
“Come, my dearest Hope,” he said with a smile. “You seem to have developed a becoming reserve in all your troubles. I know there is something on your mind. You always spoke up freely before. What is it that you wish?”
“My lord,” I said, “I have never been the dutiful child to you that I should have been. I have scorned your wishes and mocked your faith. I ask your forgiveness.”
“It is granted most freely, child,” my uncle replied. “I have heard of your conversion. It thrills me to my very soul.”
“Indeed, sir, there is too much happiness in this ruin by half,” I said with a flicker of my old wry manner. I stifled it quickly.
“It is only a building,” said Uncle John as he gazed around at the smoke-blackened walls and ruined tapestries. “It is like the body. It can be killed, but the spirit lives on in Christ. But this is not really what you came to say to me. You are still troubled about something. What is it?”
“Oh, sir, how can I ask this when I have resolved never to cross your will again, though it should mean being alone until my death?” I wailed, bursting into tears.
“What? What do you mean, Lady Hope?” Uncle John asked. “You shall never be alone again. My son will make a home for you. But … but perhaps you meant to tell me you still will not have him?”
“My lord, forgive me,” I whispered. “All my life Sir Richard has been held up before me as my betrothed, my destiny, my duty. But I never knew him. I never knew if he was even alive. Hugo Brun assured me that your son is dead. I have … I have learned to love another, a living, breathing man, a great and a good knight who…”
I stopped my flood of words as a rustling behind me made me whirl around. There stood Sir Chris. He had been concealed in a window seat all the time. He wore again the tunic of the black lion. I looked straight into his face for just a moment. It had been a long time since the rough dark features and livid scar had frightened and disgusted me. His expression was so expectant, so frankly curious that I blushed furiously. He quickly averted his eyes and covered his lower face with his gloved hand. I could no longer tell what he was thinking.
“Do
you still love young Robert, then?” Uncle John asked. “You may have time to mourn for him, if you wish.”
“Oh, no, my lord,” I exclaimed, turning quickly back to my uncle. “I think I never did love Robert. It is this man, Uncle John,” I blurted out. “It is Sir Chris. Please, you must give me leave to marry him, sir. You must. I love him so much.”
The Baron of Colchester’s eyes widened in surprise. “This man?” he repeated. “Why, dear child, this is your cousin Richard. This is my son.”
My mouth fell open. I turned to stare at Sir Chris. He bowed and took my hand, pulling me with him close to the bedside.
“Richard?” I gasped. “Richard?”
“Aye, Richard,” Uncle John said. “You did not tell her? All this time she did not know?”
“Not many know, my lord,” Sir Chris said. “Lady Ada turned me away the evening the Frenchman attacked. Gil Mor Gregor did not believe me when I tried to confess it to him, but he may perhaps know it by this time. I believe Hugo Brun realized it, though at first he thought I was an imposter Lady Hope had brought to challenge his claim.” I gasped at that, for it explained the strange way Brun had looked and spoken at Chelmsford and at Colchester Castle. It was another thing I had been fool not to realize.
“Lady Hope, you read in the diary about how I found my Christian trappings in the cave. My Arab band were angered to find that I had gone back to find my things. It occurred to my fellows that these were ties to my old life. If I kept them I might someday go back to my Christian brethren. My ‘brothers’ took my clothes and those of the others that they could dig up to a market Christians often traded at. They were the ones who told the tale that all on my ship had drowned, and they sold my clothing and that of the others as proof that this was true. I was dead, as far as the Christian world was concerned, and only my father and my greatest enemy believed otherwise. I do not think the Lady Hope believes it now, hearing it from your own lips, my lord.”
Hope and the Knight of the Black Lion Page 16