Knight Assassin

by James Boschert

  The yard in front of the gates, which were still prudently closed, was churned up and muddy where the fighting had occurred. He noticed with wry amusement that the battered and dented shield he had used during the fight with his cousin was now suspended from one of the poles of the gatehouse. Also that the corpses of the two mercenaries they’d hanged were now gone.

  A hand touched him on the left shoulder; he winced and turned his head to see Aicelina standing just behind him, looking concerned. He returned her smile with a rueful grimace and rubbed his left shoulder gingerly.

  She was immediately concerned. “Are you hurt?”

  “I am, my lady. My left shoulder and arm feel as though a giant battered it all night and the rest of me is little better this morning.”

  She opened his shirt to expose the arm, without a word and quite unabashed. It was swollen and bruised from the shoulder down to the wrist. The late Roger had been a big man with enormous strength. Aicelina hissed at the sight and told him to sit still while she brought food for him and some salve for the arm and his other superficial wounds.

  Talon complied willingly. He let the watery sun soak into his skin; he shut his eyes, enjoying the moment. One of the female hounds, Beatrice, slouched up to him; the huge animal’s head was almost up to his chest as he sat. She nudged him with her nose, wanting a scratch. He absentmindedly rubbed her neck and head.

  He reflected upon the situation as he saw it now that Guillabert and his sons were dead. Technically, the castle still belonged to Petrona, but she could not be expected to run the place on her own. Sir Hughes, having won the dispute by right of arms, could assume the ownership of the castle. Bartholomew had informed them of that last night; it was part of old feudal law. Petrona would become Sir Hughes’ ward or he could marry her off and hope that her husband would be more amenable to living as a good neighbor. Talon doubted that his father would take the latter course. Where did this leave him, Talon?

  He knew his destiny lay not in this land. Lush, green, and fertile it might be compared to his previous world, but in his heart he knew he wanted to return to the land that had become his home, the land that was in his blood. Not only that, he had vengeance to take for Rav’an, who he was sure must now be dead.

  He could not imagine her surviving the wrath of her brother once he discovered she was pregnant. Once again his heart ached as he raged against his impotence to do anything to save her. Yet there was a tiny hope still within him that this might not be true and that she still lived.

  He thought of Aicelina. He liked her very much. She was open and intelligent, a young woman with a mind of her own. It didn’t matter one bit that she was not of the common faith. Her adherence to this new faith known as Cathar, which the abbot had told him was the other name for these people, was of no importance to him at all. After all, what was he now, a Christian or a Muslim? He could do far worse should he stay.

  But then there was Bartholomew, who was making sheep’s eyes at her, and to Talon’s mind she had not been disinterested. He knew that to be his fault as she had divined where his heart lay and then told him it lay elsewhere. He could not stand in her way should she decide to take a good man like Bartholomew. Finally there was Petrona. He should watch out for that; that situation could get complicated. He saw Claude and Pierre preparing to leave and got up to bid them goodbye.

  They clasped hands firmly. The two men wished him well and thanked him for taking care of them.

  “You will always be welcome at the abbey, Talon. We know there is still much for you to tell us about your time in Persia. Be sure to come when all the harvesting is done and there is time to sit by a fire and talk. God protect you.”

  “I would welcome that, my brothers, and God protect you, too. But it is we who owe thanks to you for having produced the real proof so that my father and mother can live peacefully now without looking over their shoulders.” The two men smiled and then walked out of the gates with a wave of farewell.

  Talon went to sit back on the bench and rubbed his sore arm while he resumed thinking of the future. He decided that when the spring came and the ships began to sail the middle sea again, he would take his leave. His peace was not to last for long. He was prodded on his right side by an impatient hand pushing at him. He looked up and then down. The hound had left and in its stead was Guillaume, standing there looking at him, hero worship in his eyes, but a determined look, too.

  “Brother Talon, I want to know all about the battle you had with cousin, Roger,” he said in his five-year-old voice.

  Talon smiled tiredly at his young brother. If he left for the far lands Guillaume would one day inherit all of this, and if his perky stride and attitude were anything to go by he would be the right man to fill his father’s boots. Talon sat up and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I shall tell you all, Guillaume, but today I am tired and need some rest. Will you be good and wait a while? We can go swimming and I shall tell you then... when you are cleaner.”

  Guillaume looked alarmed and uncertain. There was a light laugh behind them both. Aicelina had returned with a chunk of bread with some cheese on top.

  “In that case, I doubt you will have the chance to tell Guillaume, Talon. He fears water more than a barn cat does.” She began to apply some of the salve to Talon’s swollen arm, kneading it with gentle fingers. He winced at the pain, but her fingers were gentle and soothing.

  “I’m not afraid of water,” said Guillaume defensively.

  “Oh, yes, you are, you young scamp,” Aicelina replied, laughing.

  Talon smiled, too. “Are you as courageous as a de Gilles should be? There is more to being a knight than just slaying all your enemies, little brother.”

  “Such as?” Guillaume asked doubtfully.

  “Reading, and Latin, writing, counting, and things like that. Being clean, too. The womenfolk prefer it. A lice-ridden knight who stinks like a pig’s sty is a poor bedfellow.”

  “Yuck! I won’t bother with girls when I am a knight. I shall be far too busy slaying all our enemies and conquering new lands for the Count of Carcassonne.”

  Talon and Aicelina laughed together at his screwed up face.

  “I am sure you will,” Talon said dryly, “but for the tale of my battle you must have a bath; that is the condition.”

  “Are you going to have one?”

  “I am a man used to making sacrifices. Of course I am. We can bathe together and Aicelina can wash our backs.”

  “Away with you, Talon.” His mother was standing at the doorway, her arms crossed over her bosom, listening with amusement. “I am sure Aicelina has better things to do than to watch you and your brother playing about in hot water.”

  Talon smiled at his mother and glanced up at Aicelina, who was staring off at the barn, pretending she had not heard, but he caught sight of a dimpled smile on her cheek. Hmm... I wonder, he thought.

  "Hello, Mother, I hope you are well?”

  “I am. Aicelina has told me of the bruised arm. I see what she means. We'll dress it again when you've had a bath. I am sure I cannot remember the last time Guillaume had one, so this should be interesting.”

  Guillaume was looking trapped but Talon gave him reassuring pat on the shoulder as he bit into the bread and cheese.

  The four of them walked to Marguerite’s small garden and spent a pleasant hour talking about the recent events and speculating about the future. Talon was careful not to mention his intent to leave one day for the Outré Mere. It was not the time or the place. He asked about Sir Hughes and Petrona. His mother told him that Sir Hughes had risen early and taken Max and some men to look the castle over and make sure it was secure from marauders and looters. He intended to leave some men there to guard the property until they decided what to do with it.

  Petrona was still in bed, the previous day’s experiences were still too fresh in her mind. She was well aware of the fight that had taken place here, and the deaths of her father and brothers, although not the circumstances of
their deaths.

  Talon and Aicelina stayed in the garden after his mother went off to order the hot water prepared. Guillaume was forced to go with her, protesting vehemently all the way back to the Hall.

  “So you would not want to join me in the bath?” he enquired.

  “I would have no scruple there, Talon, but I fear that you will be sharing the water with more than just your brother,” she said with a grin.

  He knew what she meant. Guillaume was most probably covered with ticks and lice passed on by the hounds that were infested, and these little bodies would be floating all about as they bathed. He laughed a bit uncomfortably and then told her of his experience in the Assassin castle when he was forced to bathe for the first time in months and then had his head shaved to clean him completely. He told her of the kindly but firm woman who had made him wash and then looked after him many times after. She smiled with him at the memories, but she looked pensive.

  “You are looking serious, Aicelina. Surely this is a day to rejoice; we have overcome poor odds and survived.”

  “I think of you and your restless soul. You know so little of that which others of us call peace, and I know that one day you'll leave us for those lands again.”

  Talon was too surprised to say anything.

  She continued. “I would that you would stay, but I know in my heart it is not to be. So I ask that you release me from any bonds we might have formed as I would be free to make a choice.”

  Talon looked into her eyes and saw them filled with tears. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

  “Has the learned Bartholomew of Brittany taken your heart then, Aicelina?” he asked her gently.

  She blushed for the first time since he had met her.

  “Truly, I do not know where my heart is at this moment, but I do know one thing.” She looked directly into his eyes. “Although we have loved and it was a good loving... Indeed, I would have had more if it and willingly become betrothed to you,” she gave that dimple of a smile, “it is not to be. Bartholomew is making eyes at me and... well, he is not an ignorant nor unhandsome man.”

  “You would have a fine husband there, Aicelina. I will not stand in the way of that. You're right of course, about me, although I would wish it were not the case. You're a fine woman by any standards and would make a wife for a man to be proud of, but I would only cause hurt to you.”

  She put a hasty finger on his lips. “I do not think you could willingly hurt me; you are not that kind of man. I would trust you with my soul. Will you bless me and wish me joy if Bartholomew should ask to take me for his wife?”

  “Has it come to this so quickly, Aicelina?”

  She blushed again. “While I was dressing his head wound, he told me he was in love and asked for my hand.”

  “The man moves fast, despite his wound,” Talon said stiffly.

  “Nay, Talon, I told him not to jest, but he replied that he had been sure from the day he had arrived and was deadly serious.”

  “What was your reply?”

  “I told him that I was the ward of Sir Hughes and Lady Marguerite and that he had to make his suit to them first and then if they agreed we would see. But I came to you to ask for your blessing, too. You have become close to me and I do love you... but, despite our physical mating, I feel more that you are my brother whom I never had.” She gave a short giggle as though she saw how complicated it had become.

  Talon gave a rueful laugh. Then despite the pain in his left arm, he seized her around her waist and lifted her off her feet so that her face was inches from his. He gave her a kiss on the lips that she returned. “That shall be the last passionate kiss I shall give you, my lovely sister. For now you are to be married to a good and clever man who had the sense to love you the moment he met you. Of course I shall bless the union.”

  Aicelina gave a delighted laugh that warmed him and threw her arms about his neck and gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Truly, Talon, I do love you for your kindness and understanding. Now it is time for your bath—perhaps if your mother can be distracted I shall wash your back after all.”

  They went off toward the Hall, arm-in-arm.

  Later that day, the men came back from the d’Albi castle. Bartholomew and Max told Talon of the day’s happenings.

  Bartholomew and the Welshmen had accompanied Sir Hughes and Max to inspect the place. They had found it undisturbed but there had been a lot of work to do to clean up the corpses and a burial party had been pressed into work from the town.

  Sir Hughes had told the people of the village to pass the word. He was henceforth the lord of the castle until the Count made a ruling. He would be fair and just, but any treachery would be rewarded by harsh justice. Apparently, the villagers were joyful about the news, as it was common knowledge that Guillabert had been a tyrant. They worked willingly with the men on the castle and then, when told to go and work on the harvest and bring it all without a tithe for this year, they had cheered and then vanished to go to work in their fields.

  Bartholomew, having helped tell the tale of the day’s events, immediately set off to look for Aicelina and when he did accost her in the yard Talon could see him talking to her earnestly. He seemed to be very happy about something and after a while they walked off to the garden. Talon assumed that Bartholomew might have asked his father for Aicelina in marriage. He enquired tactfully as to how his father felt about the man during their inspection of the yard together.

  Sir Hughes did not need much prompting; he told Talon that Bartholomew had asked for Aicelina’s hand. He looked sideways at Talon as he said this. “I have to confess I was somewhat surprised at the speed with which he has made this proposal, Talon. I had thought that there might have been something between you and Aicelina.”

  “We are close friends, but a bit like sister and brother, you understand?”

  “Harrumph... well, all right then, I can pass the news onto your mother without fear of contradiction?”

  “None, Father. I am truly happy for both of them. He is a very bright young man with a good future in the law, and she would make the perfect wife. You should try to keep him here with you as your advisor. He will make you rich.”

  Sir Hughes looked uncomfortable. “I am in agreement with you there. I certainly do not have a head for the accounts. While we are on the subject of wives... have you no maiden you would care to marry? There is after all Petrona, and the dowry she brings is not insignificant.”

  Talon felt the prickle of sweat around his neck. “The answer is ‘not as yet,’ although there was a lady at Carcassonne who caught my fancy while I was there with Uncle Philip,” he lied.

  “Ah, you never mentioned it.”

  “It is a delicate subject at best, and you have to admit we have been somewhat busy for the last few days.”

  “True, and had it not been for you, we might not be talking as we are today. I owe you a debt of thanks that cannot be repaid.”

  Talon stopped and took his father’s arm. “Father, I have done what any son would do and there are no thanks to be given for that. You led us to victory and I, along with everyone here, owe you much for that! Everyone fought hard and we prevailed with much help from God, I am sure. I only ask that we make a decision about the Guillabert castle that will stand the test of time. I do not want vengeance to raise its ugly head a generation along from ours should Petrona marry another man and take possession of the castle as hers by right. It is yours by right of arms now, and we should petition the Count appropriately.”

  “Yes, we should consider this situation carefully. Perhaps Bartholomew can be of help there,” Sir Hughes said, thankful they were off the subject of women and marriage.

  “Is Petrona not of an age as yet where she is able to inherit?”

  “That is true. I could adopt her and then we’d have the castle in the family. I wish to take possession of the castle as it would provide me with both lands and prevent the avaricious priest in Albi from claiming it for the church.”
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br />   “I am in agreement. I also think that it is yours by right of arms in any case,” Talon said firmly.

  “I feel that it's mine by right of arms, too. We should write to the Count and petition him. He or at least his son, Roger, is well aware of the bad blood that existed, and will not be surprised at the news when it comes. “By the way,” he said almost as an afterthought, “the whole problem would be solved very cleanly should you decide to marry her, Talon.”

  Talon said nothing but resolved never to underestimate his father.

  They walked toward the hall where people were beginning to congregate. There was an expectant air about them. They would feast this night to celebrate a victory well won.

  Talon was joined by the archers, who all greeted him enthusiastically as a friend. Even Belth was there with his arm in a sling, cheerfully greeting him. There was now a bond between them that was stronger than that of master and servant. Max soon joined them and amid much banter and laughter, the group joined the villagers and other men-at-arms.

  As the Welshmen trooped into the hall there were shouted welcomes and greetings to these men who had once been strangers but were now considered one with the people of the village. They were also greeted by the smell of cooking meat and the sweet scent of pies baking by the roaring fire in the center of the Hall.

  Sir Hughes presided over a joyful feast that night. His lady Marguerite, Aicelina, and now a pale and tired-looking Petrona sat to his left while in the place of honor to his right he placed Talon, and on Talon’s right sat Max. Talon had asked that Gareth be placed at the high table, to which his father had willingly agreed. Gareth sat next to Bartholomew with a bemused expression.