A Dishonorable Knight (21 page)

***

Gareth stopped in a sheltered glade
and stretched his arms over his head, grimacing at the tightness in his back
from so much walking. The sun had been up for almost an hour and he had neither
heard nor seen signs that they were being followed. He prayed that Cynan and
Bryant had gotten away safely and that their decision to split up had not been
a foolish one. Gareth turned and scratched Isrid's ears. Would that the
soldiers he had trained with this year past were as uncomplaining and
dependable.

"A double portion of oats for
you when we reach Aberystwyth if I have to sell my sword to get them," he
promised Isrid who nudged his shoulder softly in return. Gareth's smile faded
as he turned his attention to Elena who was still sound asleep, sprawled
awkwardly over Isrid's back and neck. Brushing her tangled hair back from her
face, he studied her pale features. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He
carefully wiped it off, wondering not for the first time in the last few days
at the change in her. She had ceased complaining, had not even shown fear when
they were being pursued. She had, in fact, risked her life to warn them of
Richard's soldiers. Cynically, Gareth tried to determine if she had anything to
gain from her actions, but he could think of nothing. Why, then, the change?
Baffled, he untied the rope that secured her to Isrid and gently lifted her
down, laying her in the thick grass under a tall oak. Taking Isrid's saddle
off, he rubbed the tired animal down and gave it what was left in the
feed bag
. With the sack of food the innkeeper's wife had
given them in one hand, he stretched out beside Elena.

Elena stirred and slowly pushed
herself up. "I'm starving," she said, her voice husky with sleep.
Gareth offered her cheese and the last half loaf of bread. Elena took a large
wedge of cheese and ripped the bread in half, handing Gareth his portion. They
said nothing as they devoured the humble fare and drained the wine in the
flask.

When the food and wine were gone,
Elena leaned back against the tree and took a deep breath.

"That feels so much
better," she said, patting her stomach and closing her eyes.

Gareth nodded, unsure of what to say.
Suddenly, Elena sat up straight.

"What about those men? Are we
being followed?"

Gareth shook his head. "I don't
think so. We made pretty good time and I didn't hear anything other than an owl
or two."

Elena relaxed back against the tree,
her eyes on Gareth as he rolled up the empty food sack and stuffed it in the
bundles tied to the saddle.

"How long can we rest
here?" she asked. He had had but a few hours of sleep and could not
possibly have the energy to continue much longer.

"Perhaps half an hour at
best."

"How much further do we have to
travel to reach Aberystwyth?"

"Four, maybe five hours,"
he said, his eyes closing drowsily.

Elena nodded. She watched Gareth
loose the battle against sleep. He slumped down against the tree, his head
cocked at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle, his brow furrowed as if
even in sleep he was worrying about their safety. Of its own volition, Elena's
hand reached out towards him. She jerked it back, but after staring at him a
moment longer, she reached out again and eased him onto his side. Pulling a
blanket from the saddle, she propped it under his head and smoothed his unruly
hair.

Standing, she stretched her stiff
muscles and hearing the faint sound of trickling water, foraged through the
edge of the forest until she found a small spring. There was barely enough
water to splash in, but Elena managed to wash her face and arms and drank the cool
sweet water until her thirst abated.

She sat on the rocky bank and
stripped off her shoes and threadbare stockings. Though the chill of the water
made her inhale sharply, she soaked her feet in the cold water, relishing the
quiet beauty of the forest. How odd, she considered, that she should feel so at
peace here, in this glen, in this country. It was as if the fever she had
suffered had burned away her earlier life, freeing her from the angst of living
in the king’s court: the constant scheming and manipulating—and that just
for the chance to wait on someone of higher rank, or to gain a more prestigious
seat at the next feast. The relief of not trying to live down a disgrace, not
worrying what others thought of her, was so great, she wondered if she could
ever return to Richard’s court.

Elena drew her cold feet out of the
water and stared unseeing at them. Had she changed so much in such a short
amount of time?
she
wondered. Well had she played the
calculated games of court
life.
She’d been proud of
her knowledge, her ability to read people and manipulate them to better her own
position. Would she not miss the stimulation of such daily calculation and
risk? She searched her heart and mind. No. She would not.

True, there was the dreaded betrothal
to the Earl of Brackley. Elena might have been able to wheedle her way out of
it, but it had opened her eyes at just how little control over her own life she
had had as a member of the king’s court. Here in Wales, she had seized her
destiny, chosen her path. She had saved the lives of Gareth and his friends.
She was no pawn in a larger game. The feeling was as frightening as it was
invigorating.

Then, too, there was Gareth. Her
feelings for him had rapidly evolved from scorn and hatred to…to…well something
far more unsettling. Waking up in his arms, sharing powerful, drugging kisses
with him had set her blood on fire, something she’d never encountered with her
other, more “noble” suitors. And the thought of someone like Lord Edgeford
risking his life for her was preposterous. Elena knew without a doubt that
Gareth would die before allowing harm to come to her. It was a heady, utterly
unfamiliar feeling to be so protected.

She had no idea what the future held,
where she would end up after they reached Aberystwyth, but she would
trust—at least for the time being—in the powerful attraction
between her and Gareth.

Standing, Elena debated taking off
her travel-stained gown and having a proper bath when a step behind her made
her realize Gareth must be awake. Looking over her shoulder, her smile nearly
turned to a scream. Behind her stood not Gareth but four men, soldiers no
doubt, judging from their leather armor and weapons.

"What is your name?" asked
one in English. Elena assumed he must be the leader. He was short and stocky,
his iron-grey hair clipped unfashionably close against his head, his face
furrowed with lines of wear and as tanned as old leather. Dear God, she
thought. This is the man the abbess sent to find Gareth! Elena bowed her head,
allowing her hair to fall over her face, pretending to humbly grovel to the
captain. She glanced up at him to see if he recognized her.

His eyes were black and glittered
sharply under bushy grey brows, but they gave no hints that he’d seen her
before. "Where do you live?" he asked more harshly.

Elena said nothing, frantically
trying to think of what to do, what explanation she could give for being here.
Had they come across Gareth yet? No, they couldn't have. They had obviously
approached her from the opposite direction.

The man barked his questions at her
again, this time in hesitant Welsh.

Elena's thoughts raced through her
mind frantically. If he thought she was Welsh, perhaps she could convince him
that she and Gareth were not the people he was looking for. Assuming, of
course, they even knew Gareth and his friends had an Englishwoman with them.

"Marared," Elena said
improvising quickly. "I live in Gwynedd."

The captain stared at her keenly.
Behind him the other two began making suggestive remarks under their breath,
chuckling lewdly. Sweet Mary! Elena thought. What if this man is accustomed to
turning prisoners over to his men?

That worry was cut short when the
captain's head snapped around and he glared at his men for a long moment. The
men sobered abruptly and he turned his attention back to her.

"What are you doing so far from
Gwynedd alone and in the middle of nowhere?"

His stumbling Welsh gave Elena time
to frantically think of a response. While he waited for her answer, he nodded
to his men, instructing them to search the area. As soon as Elena saw one head
in Gareth's direction, she knew what she must say.

"My husband and I are traveling
to visit my family in South Wales."

The captain lifted a thick eyebrow.
"Where is your husband?"

"He is napping just over
there," she said pointing.

The captain called his men back.
"I don't trust a woman and especially not a Welsh woman," he snapped.
"Stick together in case they're armed."

Elena led the way back through the
trees, making as much noise as possible to hopefully wake Gareth. When she
finally reached him, she realized he must be more exhausted than she had
thought. He had not moved an inch since she had laid him on the ground.
Crossing to him, she gently shook him.

"Gruffydd," she called
softly as he awoke with a start. "It's alright, it's only me, your wife
Marared," she said, staring hard into his eyes hoping he would understand
what she was trying to do. Gareth glanced over her shoulder and pushed himself
hurriedly to his feet.

"Gruffydd," she said more
loudly as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it meaningfully. "They mean no
harm. They found me over at the stream and were worried that I was alone, I am
sure. I explained that we were only resting on our way to--"

"Hush woman!" the captain
shouted in English.

Elena ignored him long enough to say,
"--Cardiff."

Gareth stared at Elena in confusion
but snapped to attention when the captain said, "I suppose it's too much
to hope you speak English."

"I--I speak a little, my
lord."

"How nice," the captain
said snidely. "Now suppose you tell me where you came from."

Elena stared at Gareth, willing him
to give the answers she had already given, but he resisted the urge to look at
her for confirmation.

"We live in Gwynedd."

"Yes, I know that. Your charming
wife managed to babble that much to me," he said in a tone whose
politeness was belied by the razor sharpness below it.

Elena could feel the relief course
through Gareth. "We live in Bjaeneau Ffestiniog. We are traveling
to--" Gareth paused and Elena prayed he would remember. "Cardiff in
South Glamorgan."

"You wouldn't happen to be going
by way of Aberystwyth, would you?"

"Aberystwyth? That's nowhere
near Cardiff."

"I realize that. But--"

"Aberystwyth?" Elena asked,
tugging on Gareth's arm. In rapid Welsh she continued, "Is there a fair on
at Aberystwyth? You promised we would go, husband. Remember? When you made me
miss the last one?"

Behind him, one of the soldiers
laughed until the captain glared at him sharply. The soldier sobered instantly.
The captain did not laugh or even smile. He merely scowled harder.

"There are a pack of traitors on
the loose in these woods. Have you seen anyone in the last few days?"

"No, my lord.
Although
we did hear something in the brush last night.
Weren't sure if it was
man or beast, but it didn't bother us so we let it be."

"And where were you last
night?"

"About two miles due
north," Gareth lied.

The captain studied Gareth and Elena
for several moments before turning away. He took a step and then turned back.
"Gruffydd, was it?"

"Yes, my lord," Gareth said
hesitantly.

"And your wife's name
was...?"

Elena tugged impatiently on his
sleeve and said in Welsh, "Are we going to stop and see Bryant's betrothed
on our way, husband?"

"Another word from you and I'll
have you bound and gagged," the captain shouted at Elena.

"My wife's name is Marared. I
believe in English it is Margaret."

"Of course," said the
captain. "Gruffydd, you and Marared had best watch yourselves. Traitors
are at work in your country and they care not who they kill or maim. Why in
Machynlleth, they murdered an honest innkeeper and his wife who had given them
food and shelter during the rains." The captain turned away and Elena felt
her stomach clench. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Gareth’s arm muscles
tighten in rage as the soldiers mounted their horses and rode west.

When they were out of sight, Elena
spoke. "They," she began. “They killed those people, didn't they?
Those people who helped us."

Gareth nodded and because he didn't
know what else to do, took her in his arms and held her tightly.

"But how could they have found
out?"

"One of the villagers probably
told them."

"But...I thought the Welsh
always stood with each other against the English."

"Not always. As in any country,
there are those who seek to gain the most from whoever is in power." And
then, trying to distract her from the deaths of the innkeeper and his wife,
"That was fast thinking, telling them we were wed and traveling to
Cardiff. I doubt I could have done so well on such short notice."