The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance (6 page)
Read The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance Online
Authors: Lorna Benson
Thomas said "Eric, do you see that?" The two men were on guard in Klayloch's south tower. In the distance, they could see dust and what looked like a single rider.
As the rider continued to approach, Eric left to inform his commander.
Shortly, the rider came galloping up to the main gate. His horse, a brown gelding, was dripping with foam from exertion. The rider was dressed in King Alexander's colors.
He dismounted at the gate, tossed the reins to a gate guard, grabbed a leather dispatch case and sprinted toward the Castle proper. The tower guards had seen him coming from some distance. He was greeted by a knight escort at the portal.
"I must see Laird Paul immediately, under the King's orders" the rider exclaimed.
"Follow me, he's waiting."
They entered the castle, went up the stairs on the left. On the third floor, across from Sir Mal's recovery room, a guard was standing by a closed door. Upon their arrival, he opened the door to a medium-sized room. Large tapestries showing battle scenes hung from three walls. A large firepit was in the center of the room. Three chairs were elevated and arranged at the northern end of the room. Sir Malcolm sat on the right of Sir Paul, who sat in the middle. His brother, Sir Morgan, sat on the left.
Sir Paul was dressed in his formal garb featuring the Clan's plaid as a kilt, and elaborate sporran hung in the middle with a silver medallion as a clasp. He wore a white ruffled blouse and a decorated smock with the livery of the King. He presented a very impressive figure.
He left the chair striding across the room and warmly welcomed the courier.
"Sir Michael, welcome to Klayloch. I gather you have had a long and tiring journey. When we finish our business here, our kitchen will feed you and I've arranged a bedroom in which can relax until you are ready to return with our answer to the King.
"Now, let's hear the message." While Sir Paul could read well he felt it better to have the messenger deliver the message orally.
"His Majesty has learned that King Henry is preparing to break his word and is gathering troops for an invasion. He wants you to mobilize your men and meet him at Upton Downs. Scotland needs defending. Are ye willing?"
Sir Paul turned and looked at his brothers and asked, "Are we in?" They both stood, drew their swords and yelled, "To the King."
"Tell the King, I will lead 500 men, 50 knights and we'll leave within the fortnight." They embraced.
"For that kind of showing, we need to build a new weapons cart with a supply of healing materials, a food cart and a load of forage for the animals. Mal is good at organizing. I know he can put together all we will need for a battle."
Sir Paul served King Alexander as his castellan or chief constable. He was the King's top military adviser. Producing five hundred fighting men from his clan alone constituted a massive showing and it was his duty to raise this army.
If the King wanted a show of force, Sir Paul had no real choice but to do his best to provide one.
Organizing such an effort was a major undertaking.
Mal had established quarters near the gates for ease of access. The first of his tasks was gathering the 500 infantrymen. Sir Paul had over 300 on his payroll, but the balance of the army came from conscriptions. The farmers, laborers, and shopkeepers had an obligation, when called, to drop everything and report to duty bringing their weapons with them. All the Laird provided was a tan garment bearing the coat of arms of the Clan.
A group this size could not move very rapidly, so Mal needed to calculate how much time the army would spend on the road. He knew from experience trained troops could march fifteen miles during a seven hour day. But, when you accounted for the conscripts and camp followers whose conditioning was far less than the soldiers, the number dropped to ten miles.
After allowing for additional days in camp at the end of their journey, he could develop lists of how much food, beverages, and other essentials would be needed. The animals needed water; the people would drink ale, beer, and wine. It was much safer that way.
Tradition was for the traveling armies to forage for themselves along the way. However, since a good portion of the time, they would be on the Clan's own ground that was not a viable option.
Castle Klayloch did not have sufficient stores on hand for the task, so purchase orders were sent out across the properties buying meat, vegetables, and spices. It would take at least a week for the supplies to arrive and be stored.
The men were divided into groups each headed by a knight.
Every unit would require a healer so additional healers were recruited from the small number available. Beth's application to join was denied by Mal.
Beth knocked on the door with Mal answering "Come in."
When he saw Beth at the door, he could see she was not happy. He immediately gave her a great hug and a welcoming kiss only passively returned. "Beth, it is so good to see you, darling. I've been so busy with all of this," waving his arm around him. "I really have had no time to spend with you as much as I might wish it. Is that why you seem cross? Really, I barely have time to eat and grab a little sleep."
"I heard you are recruiting healers for the campaign. Is that true? In fact, I volunteered to go and I was rejected! My specialty field is in treating wounds like yours. You should let one of the healers who take care of the sick stay home and let me go. Are you trying to protect me? I dream of assignments like this campaign. I can't believe you would deny me going." She was furious.
"Calm down, Beth. It is quite simple. I need you here, not miles away sleeping in some field somewhere. I did you a favor."
"Favor, some favor. Your ego knows no bounds. You are keeping me here just so you can lay with me. Can't you see what that reduces me to being? I told you this before. I will not be anybody's concubine. Well, I promise you will not lay hands on me while the army is gone, so you might as well let me go."
"Damn, you make it sound so tawdry. You know I have strong feelings for you. I honestly thought I was doing you a favor. I have enough to worry about our army, without having to worry constantly about you! Please, do me the favor of staying here with me. I want you to stay, even if you spend your nights at the nunnery while the troops are gone. How about a compromise? What if you stay here and, at the first sign of trouble with the soldiers, I swear I will dispatch you to the front immediately?"
Seeing Mal, here in his natural habitat cooled Beth's anger considerably. Further, she could sense the depth of his feelings for her and that thrilled her to her core.
"Alright, we have an understanding. Besides, I hear the beds at the nunnery are really not very comfortable."
* * *
Not enough carts and wagons were on hand to accommodate the huge volume of supplies. As a result, a number of carts had to be built for that purpose. The costs of all this were not insignificant. The drain on Sir Paul's treasury was immense and he could not expect any financial relief from the King. It was part of the price paid for his fealty.
As the men arrived, camps were set up near the castle. Around the castle, tents were raised for the knights in charge of each group. Some displayed colorful streamers celebrating previous victories.
Each knight brought three horses with him to rotate so as not to overburden any one charger. Carrying the weight of a knight in full armor some distance was a strain for any mount. In addition to maintaining order among their assigned troops, the knights were expected to lead the foraging for game the army could eat.
In the few days it took the drafted troops to arrive, so, too, did the camp followers. Mostly wives of the soldiers, they performed many necessary services to the army. Some camp followers were craftsmen like leather workers, farriers, and men who specialized in weapon sharpening and repair. Their numbers had to be taken into account by Mal in calculating basic foodstuffs needed for the march. Mal estimated the camp followers would number more than 100.
Finally, the mass of men and women was ready to move. With Sir Paul in the lead and his brother, Sir Morgan, at his side, they began the slow march to join King Alexander's main army at Upton Downs. Marching in the front was relatively comfortable, but the troops toward the rear were constantly marching through the dust thrown up by the column.
The journey took twelve days, during two of which the group was buffeted by high winds and heavy rain. The rain assured that dealing with mud and its consequences added to the general discomfort, but did serve to reduce the constant dust.
The sun was shining brightly when they arrived. More than 1,000 colorful tents and thousands of men-at-arms were spread across the nearby hillside. It took less than two hours for Sir Paul's contingent to join the display of tents. Sir Paul learned a meeting of the Lairds was scheduled for the next morning following breakfast.
It was a congenial group, sharing gossip and other news before the meeting with King Alexander was to begin. Finally, the King and his collection of advisers entered the large tent. The crowd became silent immediately.
"I have interesting and, frankly, irritating news. It seems when the English barons financing the King's adventures saw our massive showing, they told King Henry they would NOT financially support his plan to invade Scotland."
"The more rational Barons pointed out to King Henry, he had signed the Magna Carta just two years previous guaranteeing Scotland's independence and her borders. To violate the terms would surely enrage the Pope, who had, through his emissaries, participated in the language of the treaty. Offending the Church is never a good idea."
Mal felt the need to build a bridge to Beth so he worked double time to free the two days’ time necessary for the trip to the uncle. The trio had agreed to repeat the trip the following Saturday. Saturday arrived, so, early in the morning, they were off to Mossley.
Tomas Hawtrey's plan was to position himself Friday night near the road Beth and her escort would be traveling. He found a suitable site and secured his horse some distance from his position.
The night was cold and by early morning, dew had dampened his bedding. Hawtrey was very uncomfortable. For weapons, he had a long cudgel, a sword and a dagger he had spent hours sharpening. With Lady Cecila's help, he had disguised himself as a troubadour. He was wearing a purple beret and a long purple smock decorated with spiral designs. His dagger was secured in his belt under the smock. The disguise would facilitate his escape.
He repeatedly visualized cutting Beth's throat and watching the blood gush while he sharpened his dagger's blade. Hawtrey was supremely confident. After all, God was on his side. His strategy was simple. Disable the squire with a surprise blow from the cudgel, the woman would panic. He would grab her horse's reins and pull her to the ground. Kneeling on her chest, with his left hand he would pull her hair back exposing her neck. With his right hand, he would slice her throat, thus putting an end to the witch's life. He had killed three times before and those were men, surely a woman would not be difficult.
It was not yet 9 A.M. when Hawtrey could hear horses coming. As they rounded the corner, he was surprised to see three riders, the woman, a large man and a priest. But,that would not matter. His plan would still work, he thought. Attack the man first and get him out of the way, the priest wouldn't involve himself because that would violate his religious vows and then go for the woman.
Hawtrey was filled with religious zeal and could hardly wait; now the moment was upon him. It did cross his mind that the man did not look like a squire, but no matter. Surprise was the great leveling agent, and surprise was on his side.
Mal was turned toward Beth and was talking to her. Suddenly, a troubadour appeared at his left side swinging the large cudgel. It struck Mal squarely across his chest with a heavy blow striking his wound. The effect was to unseat Mal who landed solidly with a thunk on his back behind his horse. He struggled to catch his breath. With each gasp, he barely knew what had happened.
Mal's horse, Black, had been well trained during jousts or battles, to stop and stand if his rider became unseated. Black stood between Hawtrey and Beth and, at seventeen hands, was a formidable obstacle. Hawtrey struggled to reach Beth since she and her horse were out of reach. He was failing at his goal of grasping her reins quickly. Perhaps, if he could crawl under the horse, he could get to the woman and fulfill his mission.
Mal yelled to Beth and Fr. Tobias to "run!" Mal was stunned and lying on the ground. Though he had briefly lost his breath when he hit the ground, with experience, he quickly rolled to his left, freeing access to his sword. Mal was not wearing his heavy armor, so getting to his feet took just a few moments. Had he been in full regalia, the weight would have meant the need for a page to assist him to his feet as he struggled like a turtle on his back.
When he did get to his feet, he saw an older man dressed as a troubadour, still struggling to get past Black and get to Beth. He was not paying any attention to Mal. Mal drew his sword and in three long strides was behind the attacker. He slashed the man across his lower legs, severing his Achilles' tendons. The man's legs collapsed. He tried to get up but failed in the attempt, wounded, and in great pain to the forest floor.
As Mal approached, the man was struggling, trying to get up, but his legs no longer functioned. He fell backward, to the ground. "I am on a mission from God, you will be damned if you interfere. The witch must die!" Without hesitation, Mal angrily drove his sword into the man's lower stomach and twisted the blade severing the assassin's bowels. The man howled and grimaced in pain. The blow was fatal, but Mal was not finished with him. Ignoring the stench, he confronted his victim.
"Who told you this lie that she was a witch?
"It is not a lie! Lady Celia told me herself, but everybody knows."
"You know you are dying, right? What is your name so I can inform your kin."
The man shrugged. "I'm Tomas Hawtrey, I have no kin, but as a Knight swear you'll deliver my last words to Lady Celia. Tell her I died trying to rid us of the witch."
Mal turned to Fr. Tobias and asked "does that pass as a deathbed confession?
"It does, but I must administer last rites before it is too late."
While Fr. Tobias prayed over the dying man, Mal went to Beth to comfort her. He took her in his arms and held her close. She was sobbing and extremely distraught. "Why would anyone want to kill me? What have I ever done to deserve this? Do more men lie in wait to kill me? Will I ever be safe here?" Mal took her in his arms. "You need not worry. I will protect you as I promised and just as I did now. Moreover, my Clansmen and I will get to the bottom of this and we will discover if others are involved."
Fr. Tobias joined Mal and Beth, "the man is dead and will be answering for his sins before a Higher Power. I don't envy him his future".
Mal suggested "we must take his body and return to the Castle. They will find a place for his sorry remains. Tobias, help me drape the body over Beth's mare and she can ride in front of me."