The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Emilie’s eyes widened and she pointed at David. “That was not an apology to Sir David,” she said. “Apologize now or I shall never speak to you again.”

  Lyle was well aware that his daughter had no knowledge of Brickley’s feelings for her. That had been Lyle’s preference. He didn’t want Emilie to suspect at this point for it would only complicate an already complex situation. He didn’t want his daughter to be uncomfortable around Brickley, especially now that the Sheriff of Nottingham was evidently hunting for her, because there would be a time when Brickley would be in charge of her safety. Perhaps not here at Windsor, and perhaps only on the way home and when they were back at Canterbury, but he still didn’t want the added complication of Emilie knowing Brickley was in love with her, feelings she clearly did not return. Therefore, Lyle intervened before too much was said.

  “Emilie,” he scolded softly. “This is between David and Brick. They do not need or want your interference. Sit down and behave yourself.”

  Emilie wasn’t ready to be put off. “But….”

  Lyle grasped her by the arm and turned her around, pointing to the brazier. “Go,” he commanded softly. “Please, sit. Let the men handle this. This is not your business.”

  Emilie, still frowning at Brickley, wasn’t happy with her father’s directive but she obeyed him. With great reluctance, displaying the fact that she was quite unhappy with both Brickley and her father, she went back to the brazier and set down, huddling around it. When Lyle was certain she wasn’t going to stand up and start arguing again, he turned to the knights.

  “David, I am grateful for your offer to keep Emilie with you and protected by de Lohr soldiers,” he said. “I fear that I have only Brick with me and about twenty Canterbury soldiers. I still have Nathalie and Elise to watch out for. If you can provide Emilie with greater protection until we leave Windsor, I will thank you for it. I fear my men do not have the experience with the sheriff’s men, or the prince, as your men do. That puts them at a disadvantage. And that disadvantage puts Emilie’s life at risk. Are you sure it will be no trouble?”

  David shook his head. “None at all,” he said. “In fact, I will put twenty men on her as well as a knight while I compete in the mass competition. As much as I hate to be down a knight in that event, Emilie’s safety is of greater concern.”

  “I will guard her,” Brickley said, looking at Lyle. “Truly, my lord, your daughter’s safety is more important than winning a competition. Allow me to guard her.”

  Lyle shook his head. “I am competing in the mass competition alongside David and so are you,” he said. “We are on the team of Richard’s supporters. David, which knight will you place on her, then? One of your men will be very disappointed.”

  David smiled ironically. “Actually, I have a feeling Edward de Wolfe will not be so disappointed,” he said. “Edward is an excellent knight and a fierce fighter, but the truth is that he does not have the aggressive drive that most knights do. Things like the mass competition do not excite him like most. He will be agreeable to watch over Lady Emilie whilst the competition takes place and I will make sure he understands the seriousness of it. But what of your other daughters? Will you permit them to sit in the lists and watch after what happened to Emilie?”

  Lyle shook his head. “My other daughters have returned to our apartments for safekeeping,” he said. “I know you have asked me not to leave Windsor, David, but the truth is that I must think about my family. I at least intend to remove them from the castle. My sister has a manor outside of London and it is my intention to move them there when this competition is over. They will be safer there.”

  David nodded. “I believe that is wise to move the woman,” he said. “But we need you here, my lord. There is much happening with regard to Richard and John, and your counsel and strength may be required. I would suggest you not return to Canterbury Castle at least until we know something more about Richard’s situation.”

  Lyle knew David was more than likely correct; with the circumstances of Richard’s disappearance still fluid, it would be wiser for him to stay in London at least until more was known. Still, he had his children to think about. His daughters.

  Emilie.

  “We shall see,” he said vaguely, not wanting to commit one way or the other at the moment. “My priority is taking my daughters to safety, David. If it is not safe for them in London, then we will return home. I must.”

  David knew that. “I understand,” he said. “We shall see what the next week or two brings. I hope you will give the situation at least that long.”

  Lyle shrugged. Then, he nodded as if knowing, eventually, he would concede. David clapped the man on the shoulder in thanks for having his tentative agreement as Lyle ordered Brickley from the tent. He wanted the man out of there because he could still feel the tension, and jealousy, radiating off of him. He didn’t like that tension, not when David was doing his best to help Emilie.

  But there was more to it – Lyle had seen, from the brief confrontation between David and Brickley, that there was more than likely an ulterior motive behind David’s altruism. And Emilie seemed quite defensive of David to Brickley’s slander. Aye, there was probably more going on here than met the eye but Lyle wasn’t all that distressed about it. He would be rather proud to have David de Lohr as a son but he knew that if that happened, he would more than likely lose Brickley’s service. He wouldn’t expect the man to stay and serve the man who had stolen away the women he loved.

  Love and marriage was a complicated thing, indeed. As Brickley headed out of the tent, Lyle turned to Emilie.

  “I am leaving you in David’s charge until I can remove you from Windsor and take you to Aunt Coraline’s home,” he said. “Until that time, you will behave yourself and do what David tells you to do. Am I clear? You will obey him as you would obey me.”

  Emilie nodded solemnly. She was secretly very glad that her father had left her in David’s charge, thrilled to be with the man who made her heart skip beats and exceedingly glad to be away from Brickley, who was acting quite strangely. Almost as if he was being overly-protective over her, as if she was a possession, which she didn’t like at all. She was glad her father had ordered the man away. One more insult against David from his mouth and she just might have to slap him.

  Truthfully, it wasn’t like Brickley to be so rude but she knew she didn’t like it. She wondered what was wrong with him but only for a moment or two; the truth was that she didn’t much care. She had a mass competition to look forward to and David de Lohr to cheer to victory. That was all she cared about at the moment. She was exactly where she wanted to be in the presence of a man she was growing increasingly enamored with.

  After her father and Brickley left, David’s squires returned bearing clubs and David’s tunic. The yellow de Lohr lion against the dark blue with the words Deus et Honora embroidered on the bottom. God and Honor. It was that recognizable tunic that Emilie had kept her eye on all day. Once David finally donned the tunic, it seemed that to Emilie that he went through a transformation of sorts – no longer did she see just a powerful knight. Now, she saw something more surreal than that, something more glorious than any knight who had ever lived. She saw David de Lohr as he was meant to be.

  A warrior without compare.

  The horn peal sounded in the distance, calling the games to order.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The mass competition was chaos from the beginning.

  David and his men were banded together in a very powerful team that consisted of Richard’s major supporters – Derby, Bath, de Lohr, Sedgewick, Canterbury, and a host of others. Generally speaking, there was an order to a mass competition – two sides assembled against each other, on horseback or on foot, and when the field marshal rang the bell or blew the horn (depending on the competition and what the marshal had at-hand), the two sides rushed each other and the fight was on.

  On this day, the fight was most definitely on.

  Each side had twenty-
four knights with clubs. Mass competitions in the past had used real swords and other sharp instruments, but too many men were badly injured in what was supposed to be mock-combat, so the past several years saw clubs used instead of actual weapons.

  Furthermore, since they were conducting the competition in the rather small enclosed area of the tournament field, the field marshals had decided against using horses so all of the men were on foot. The object of the mass competition was for the sides to charge one another, one side hoping the other would break rank, and clubs were swinging wildly very early on. A few men dropped right away and either limped off the field or were dragged.

  The crowd in the lists cheered loudly for their favorite knights, for it was quite exciting to watch. It was also difficult to tell what, exactly, was happening because it was literally a giant mass of men slugging it out in the middle of the arena. Even though it appeared like an unorganized brawl, the truth was that there was skill and strategy involved.

  That was where knights like David de Lohr found their strengths.

  David was quite methodical, in truth. He would single men out, mostly men he knew he could overcome quickly, and with one blow to the head, he would have Darren and his squires drag the man off the field and keep watch over him, as he was now David’s captive. David had made a deal right before the games began that he would give Darren a portion of any ransom received from the prisoners, so Darren was standing guard over the prisoners with a sword in hand, daring anyone to try and run.

  But no one had, so far. It would be foolish to run because the mounted de Lohr soldiers on the outskirts of the arena would simply run them down. Usually, David and his brother would strategize in competitions like this and it never varied much from mass to mass – David and Christopher would charge into the group and single out the weaker but richer men competing, club them over the head, and have their men drag them off. They would usually try to work from the far ends of the ranks towards the middle where most men were clustered because it was more difficult to move in the middle of the mass. The ends were far less choked and it made it easier to site prey.

  Without Christopher on his flank, David pulled Leeton and Dud into that position. The two knights worked on one end while David worked on the other, but David was mostly trying to get to de la Londe, who was in the center of the mass with several other of John’s mercenary knights and, very early on, David and the other allies realized that this mass was about to become very bad, indeed – John’s mercenaries were bearing spiked clubs meant to seriously injure or even kill opponents. The field marshals declared them illegal but John overrode the decision, and when that happened, Richard’s supporters went on the offensive.

  David had the squires run back to their encampment and collect axes, swords, and other battlefield weapons. Clubs weren’t doing any good against the spiked monstrosities that John’s mercenaries were using so the decision was made, by William Marshal no less, to play just as dirty as John’s men were. It was either that or be killed. Once David traded his club in for a shield and a broadsword, he charged into the mass and went straight for de la Londe.

  The blood began to spill.

  In fact, it turned into a literal bloodbath as John’s mercenaries began to take as much as they were giving. Men began falling, bleeding and wounded, and the squires who skirted the edge of the field to take prisoners for ransom were now dragging bleeding men off the field so they could be tended. What had started out as an honorable mass competition, at least at first, now became a battle in the real sense. Everyone was out for blood.

  David, of course, was out for Dennis in the most mortal sense. He couldn’t get to Dennis at first, blocked by some serious fighting in the middle of the mass, so he began swinging his shield, which wouldn’t normally have meant much except the edges of David’s shield were razor-sharp blades, like the blades of an axe, so when he swung it, the very gesture was meant to maim or kill. He swung it at men he knew were hired by the prince, men who had already taken down several of Richard’s supporters, and as he plowed into the heat of the battle in the center of the arena, he had already cut off one Frenchman’s arm and had seriously sliced into the chest of another.

  Men began backing away from David, who had been joined by Leeton, Dud, Brickley, and Lyle. Now, the battle was real and intense as men were being killed or badly hurt as David and the rest of Richard’s supporters went after John’s mercenaries in earnest. Now, it was the contest between Richard and John in full color, right there on the tournament field for all to see.

  It was mayhem.

  It was so bad that women began leaving the lists in droves when they realized how gory the mass had become. Knights and noblemen who weren’t competing were now crowded up around the fence, watching the fighting with awe and, in some cases, horror, as the mud of the arena field turned red with blood. Overhead, the gray clouds that had been gathering began to let loose, pouring down upon the fighters and very quickly turning the field into a swamp. Men were ankle-deep in red mud, slugging it out to the death.

  The field marshals had lost control of the mass competition. That much was clear. There were five of them, men now gathered at the western end of the field and simply watching as best they could, unable to do much because every time they tried, the prince overrode their decision. They knew that Richard’s supporters had brought out the weapons purely so they wouldn’t get slaughtered, but even so, they were doing a great deal of damage to John’s mercenaries. In fact, they clearly had the upper hand. John was losing mercenaries as fast as the squires could drag them off the field.

  David and his blade-edged shield had done a massive amount of damage. He had been keeping his eye on de la Londe but could never seem to get close enough to engage him. Other’s would charge him and he’d find himself in a fight for his life, using his shield and broadsword to disable or kill. Already, he’d sliced four men, forcibly amputated three arms, used his broadsword against at least two, and now he was fighting a very tall Teutonic mercenary who had the biggest spiked club David had ever seen. It was a club that, when it came into contact with David’s shield, sent him stumbling backwards.

  But he didn’t go down with the force of the blow. He managed to stay on his feet but it didn’t really matter much, as all mass rules had been broken. Men who had fallen down were getting back up again and continuing the fight, so David thought nothing of it when he ran for the Teutonic warrior, fell to his knees and skidded through the mud, coming up under the man’s enormous swing and goring him straight in the belly. The warrior fell over, bleeding out into the lake of mud the field had now become. It had been a brilliant tactical move on David’s part.

  But the fight wasn’t over, not in the least. Leaping to his feet, David’s attention was now back on tracking de la Londe with the enormous Teutonic warrior out of the way. The mass of men had thinned out considerably now, with men like Lyle out of the competition and nursing a nasty wound to his arm. Brickley was still in it, as were Leeton and Dud, but as David watched, Dud took a heavy blow right to the back that put him down onto his face. In the mud, which was now at least a foot or more deep, not including the several inches of water on top of it, a man could quickly drown, so David raced in Dud’s direction to pull the man out so he wouldn’t suffocate.

  He was nearly to the man when he also saw Darren running out onto the field, moving for the knight as well. David was nearly to Dud when his path was suddenly cut off by a warrior who swung a massive studded club right at his head, and David was forced to throw himself to the ground and tumble out of the way to avoid having his head taken off. As he came up, covered with muddy water, he turned to see Dennis de la Londe bearing down on him.

  Now, the fight was real. Infuriated, David charged after Dennis, leaping up into the air and kicking him squarely in the chest before Dennis could get another swing of the club in. Dennis fell backwards, into the mud, and David jumped right onto the arm holding the club in an attempt to force him to release his grip. The bro
adsword David was holding also came up, bearing down on Dennis but Dennis saw the blade coming down upon him and he managed to roll to his side to avoid being speared. In the same movement, he hammered David behind the knees and the knight pitched backwards, stumbling off of Dennis’ arm as he lost his balance.

  Somehow, they had both lost their weapons in the process and David had lost his helm. It was now upside-down in the mud. The battle turned into a fist fight as David and Dennis pummeled each other viciously. Dennis was taller than David, but David was stronger, faster, and a better fighter. David dropped several blows onto Dennis’ face, dislodging the man’s helm and sending it sailing into the wicked weather.

  By now, most of the combatants were down or out of the competition with five left, including David and Dennis. The perimeter of the arena was lined with men, injured or not, watching David and Dennis battle to the death because that was most certainly what this was – a battle to the death. Brickley, Leeton, and one other mercenary remained and Brickley and Leeton made short work of him. Then, the two of them headed for David and Dennis with the intent of doing away with Dennis. It didn’t even matter at this point if they won the competition or not; at the moment, it wasn’t about winning. It was about exacting justice for Brentford and for Christopher. David, in the brutal beating he was giving Dennis, was doing just that.

  He was dealing justice.

  The lists, oddly enough, were mostly silent as the battle between Richard’s Lion Cub and John’s champion slugged it out. Although Dennis had taken a massive beating, David wasn’t much better off – he had a cut over one eye and blood was pouring into the eye, making it difficult for him to see, but he kept track of Dennis with his one good eye, making sure the man felt every blow delivered. David kept punching him in the same place on his face, loosening teeth and causing the man extreme pain. He wanted him to feel every agony.