A Dishonorable Knight (5 page)

Gareth's first sense of danger was a
cold prickling on his sweaty neck. Looking up sharply, he stared into the thick
forest that began twenty or thirty paces off to the left. Glancing to the other
side of the road, he saw no threat: the road fell away to the sharp bank of the
river. Turning back to the forest he squinted his eyes, trying to see into the
near-total darkness. Nothing. He looked at the soldiers around him. They
plodded steadily along, but he noticed that the group had spread out in a long,
broken chain. The nearest group of men, which included the king, was far ahead.
The procession’s lead horses were so far ahead as to be completely out of
sight. Turning to Bryant, he whispered, "Do you feel anything strange
about this place?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know not. I just have this
feeling that this is an ideal spot for an ambush."

"Who would ambush us?"
Cynan broke in.

"Your friend Henry," Gareth
replied.

Cynan looked as if he was about to
say something and then paused. Slowly shaking his head he said, "No, I
don't think the timing is right. Besides, we would have heard something first.
Both Bryant and I have sworn to follow your father into battle."

"My father in battle? Sweet
Christ!" Looking around, Gareth quickly lowered his voice again.
"Since when has he cared about wars more than the ruttings of his
flock?" Before either man could answer, he continued. "Never mind
that now. How would you even know if these were Tudor's men? You two have been
with me the past month. An entire war could have been planned and you two would
know nothing about it."

"He's right, Cynan, we'd have no
way of knowing if we should fight for or against them."

"Just a minute,” Cynan
interrupted. “For or against who? We are working ourselves up over another of
Gareth's 'eerie feelings,' are we not? Now here is the plan: if there are just
ghosts in these woods, we'll fight 'em off. But if there are goblins too, I say
we run for it." Before he could laugh at his own joke, a blood curdling
war cry pierced the quiet air.

"By Saint Dafydd, Gareth was
finally right!" Cynan gasped.

Confusion spread through the dazed
ranks as men scrambled to position themselves in front of Richard and his
retinue. When Gareth moved to mount Isrid, Cynan grabbed his arm. "You
must wait, Gareth, until we can determine who is attacking."

"No,‘tis you who must wait. I
have work to do." Gareth grabbed the reins, but paused to look at his
friends before spurring Isrid on. Something he saw in their eyes made him grit
his teeth and say, "Alright! You two try to take cover. See if you can
retreat back down the road and duck into the forest. Who ever this is should
not expect to find you there."

Cynan grinned at Gareth as Bryant
tugged on his sleeve, urging him back down the dusty road.

His heart racing as adrenaline pulsed
through his
veins,
Gareth swung Isrid towards the
thick of the fighting, which was centered around the king and women. Richard
cursed the attackers and tried to swing his sword at them, but was hampered by
his own soldiers who sought to protect him. Gareth swore as he saw one lady's
horse cut down; to his relief,
she was quickly snatched up by
the knight nearest her
. Digging his spurs into Isrid, Gareth plunged
into the fight.
Henry Tudor's men or roadside bandits, no
lady deserved to die in a man's battle.

As Gareth moved into the thick of the
fighting, Richard pushed his great steed out from behind his men, trying to
force his way up the road. Some of the attackers followed him and his knights,
leaving the group of women. They're trying to draw the enemy away, to protect
the women, Gareth thought. But not all of the attackers were following the
king. Forcing his way through the brigands with his horse, Gareth drew his
sword with his right hand as he fumbled for his helmet with his left.

When he could not undo the buckle
that secured it to the saddle, he abandoned it and concentrated on attacking as
many of the enemy as he could. Gareth had been in few actual battles in his
short career as a knight, but that did not deter him from hacking his blade
into sinew and bone at every opportunity. He took out his frustration with his
life on the attackers, swinging his sword with such speed that it sang through
the air like a Viking scald from days of old. When his sword handle grew
slippery with sweat and blood, he only managed to slap one man across the face
with the flat of his sword. Isrid, however, trained as a warhorse, quickly
trampled the dazed man and moved forward. As his mount surged ahead, Gareth had
a moment to look up and assess their position. There were just a few attackers
to the number of Richard's men who remained in the road, but these were mostly squires
and green knights like him.

Seeing Richard's squire, Gareth
yelled as loudly as he could. "We're not but a few miles from Haddon Hall.
Take the women and as many mounted men as you can and ride on." The young
squire, pale with fear, nodded and yelled to the other squires. Within moments,
nearly all of the women were fleeing. Gareth started after them to make sure
none of the attackers would follow, but the men seemed intent on getting to
Richard and were abandoning the women. Turning back, Gareth saw two women
heading north, back up the road the company had just come down. "God’s
wounds! They're going to get themselves killed!"

***

"Your Highness I really think we
should have gone the other way with the rest of the women," Elena gasped
as she clung to the mane of her horse. "We shall become lost or be set
upon by more attackers!"

"Worry not Elena. Neither will
happen," Princess Elizabeth called back.

"But--"

Slowing her horse until Elena's
smaller palfrey caught up, Elizabeth said, "These are the men of my
cousin, Charles Woodville. They are here to escort me home."

"But why are they
attacking?"

"Do hurry Elena. We must get
further down the road. Richard meant to marry me to solidify his hold on the
throne. I cannot and will not marry him."

"Do they mean to kill the
king?"

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at
the fight. "I do not think they would be too concerned if that
happened."

"What?" Elena asked, unsure
she heard Elizabeth aright over the noise of the battle behind them. "Your
Highness, do you know what you are saying?"

Glancing sharply at Elena, Elizabeth
said, "He killed my brothers, Elena. Furthermore, I will not enter into an
incestuous marriage with my uncle."

"But Your Highness--"

"Elena, please be quiet and just
ride. I swear no harm will come to you. You may even return to Richard's party
once I am safely away."

Elena would have argued more, but the
look in Elizabeth's eyes made her close
her mouth.

***

Back at the battle, Gareth whirled
his horse to follow the two stray women. Suddenly, three more well-armed men
tried to pull him from his horse, one grasping his sword arm at the wrist,
another trying to grab Isrid's reins, while the third picked a sword from a
fallen comrade's grasp and approached Gareth from the opposite side. Isrid
effectively dislodged the man trying to pull at his reins. When his head was
free, the horse bit into the man's shoulder, sending blood pouring down his
arm.

Meanwhile, a battle rage Gareth had
never before felt seemed to seep into his eyes along with the sweat and blood
from a cut on his brow. Possessed of strength he didn't think he had left, he
pulled his sword arm free at the same time he swung Isrid around to confront
the armed man. His opponent was momentarily frozen with surprise at the
unexpected move but Gareth didn't pause as he brought his sword around to stab
at his opponent. In a disconnected part of his brain, Gareth marveled at the
feel of his sword in his hand--it felt as light as a feather, as supple as a
whip. Wheeling Isrid around again, he did not even feel the blade that sliced
along his leg, but instead used the injured limb to kick the blade's wielder in
the face. Gareth's final opponent stood immobile, staring past Gareth's
shoulder and Gareth thought he was going to have an easy kill when he heard a
whirring sound and turned in time to see a large stone leave a leather sling.
As if in a dream, Gareth saw the missile coming toward him, but--as in a
dream--he felt he was moving through water. Suddenly, time sped up as the rock
raced towards his face and cracked him soundly on the side of the head. All he
saw after that was the hard-packed dirt of the road as it rushed up to meet
him.

***

The last rays of sunlight were fading
from the sky when Gareth slowly regained consciousness. When he was able to pry
his eyes open, he saw the fuzzy features of Cynan and Bryant. Slowly sitting
up, he rubbed the lump under the blood-clotted hair on the side of his head. He
was still in the middle of the road and his mouth was coated with dust.
Spitting vociferously he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing onto Bryant when
he wobbled.

"Where's--" he spat another
mouthful of dirt and his voice sounded like a bullfrog's to his own ears.
"Where's Isrid."

"Somewhere in these accursed
woods," said Cynan. "He stayed near you after you fell off in the
fray--"

"I did not fall off!" he
said too loudly. His head threatened to split like a frostbitten cabbage.

"--
and
only bolted when some bastard tried to mount him."

"I did not fall off. And if you
had taken a blow like that one, you'd not be troubling me so."

Before Cynan could respond, they
heard someone approaching through the forest. Trying to see in the rapidly
fading light, the three men drew their swords.

"Thank God!" said Bryant
when Gareth's horse stuck his nose out of the thick clump of trees.

Gareth stumbled over to Isrid and
leaned heavily on his horse's neck. "Where is everyone else?"

"You mean those who lived? They
are no doubt at Haddon Hall by now. Of course, a few men were not as lucky as
you and they will not be rising from this God-forsaken road," said Cynan.

Gareth tried to scan the scene of the
fight, but the moon had not risen and it was so dark he could barely discern
the outlines of his friends much less the carnage in the road. "And the
attackers?"

"They went up the road,"
Bryant said, gesturing in the direction Richard's troops had come from.

"We'd best be joining the living
in Haddon Hall, then," Gareth said, still feeling as if he were about to
lose his balance at any moment.

Neither Cynan or
Bryant spoke for a moment. "We
are not continuing with Richard's court," said Cynan.

"What? Why not?"

"We are returning to
Wales," said Bryant. "We want you to come with us. We--"

Cynan interrupted, "Those men
who attacked were Woodvilles."

"How do you know?"

"Because we were hiding in the
woods, if you'll remember. We heard them talking after Richard got away."

"Meant they to kill the
king?" Gareth asked incredulously. He had not thought Richard's
sister-in-law, mother to Lady Elizabeth and the missing princes, would have
dared try regicide.

"No," Bryant said before
Cynan could speak. "They only sought to win Lady Elizabeth free. I would
wager one of the women who fled north on this road was Elizabeth herself."

"But why? She was in no
danger."

"Only in danger of being wed to
Richard," Cynan said.

"That is ridiculous!"
Gareth broke out. "That would be incestuous!" Although it was pitch
black, in the silence following his cry, Gareth could easily picture each man's
expression. Cynan's eyebrows were no doubt raised mockingly, arms crossed over
his chest as he stared unblinking in Gareth's general direction. Bryant was
most likely biting his lower lip and staring at his toe scuffing the ground. He
hated when Cynan and Gareth argued, even though nothing had ever come between
their
friendship
.

Gareth finally broke the silence.
"King Richard would not do such a thing." But even to his own ears he
did not sound very convinced.

"Did that bump on your head
loosen you of all sense or does your 'knightly duty' prevent you from doing
what is right?"

Before Gareth could respond to
Cynan's taunt, Bryant said, "At least come back to Wales and see your
father. He's been awfully lonely since you left."

Gareth took a deep breath and slowly
exhaled. No doubt the crack in his head had allowed what common sense he had to
leak onto the parched dirt of the road. "All right. I will go with
you." He started to add that he wouldn't hear
anymore
arguments or accusations against Richard, but something stopped him. He was
suddenly curious as to what his father would say about Henry Tudor.

Cynan and Bryant broke into relieved
laughter. "What an adventure we shall have!" Cynan yelled as he
picked his friend up in a bear
hug which
made Gareth's
sore head pound.