Unending Love (36 page)

Daniel smiled at the wisdom of her reply, not
those of an insecure or flighty woman, but one who knew she was truly and
wholly loved.

“He wanted me to tell you anyway,” he said after
a moment. His attention turned to Brighton, still on the floor of the church,
and he moved in his direction. “Let me retrieve my sword and we shall leave.”

Brighton was stirring as Daniel reached him and
he bent over, swiftly pulling the sword from the man’s back and listening to
him groan.  His wound was mid-back, above his kidneys but below his shoulder
blade on the right side of his torso.  From what Daniel could see, the
broadsword had penetrated several inches into the man’s body.  It was deep. 
With his boot, he rolled Brighton over on to his back.

The man was conscious, gazing up at him with
half-lidded eyes.  His breathing was unsteady.

“If you are going to finish the job,” Brighton
whispered, “all I ask is that you be merciful.”

Daniel gazed down at him seriously.  His jaw
began to tick.  “Why?” he asked. “In return for the mercy you showed Maddoc
when you gored him? For the mercy you showed Adalind when you ripped her from
her family and stole her away? For all of that, I will make sure you suffer.  I
will cut you and bleed you and take great comfort in your anguish.”

Brighton simply closed his eyes.  He would not
plead for his life and there was no use arguing with a man bent on vengeance. As
Daniel took a good grip on his sword and lifted it with the intention of
cutting deep in to Brighton’s body, he heard a soft voice behind him.

“Nay, Uncle Daniel,” Adalind came up beside him,
gazing impassively down at Brighton. “Do not kill him.”

Daniel paused in mid-stroke, turning to look at
her. “Why not?” he asked, confused. “Why should I not gut him and take joy in
every stroke for what he did to you and did to Maddoc?”

Adalind continued to gaze at Brighton.  For the
first time in a month, she thought not on her currently relationship with the
man, but back to the knight before the challenge, the abduction, the humorous
and intelligent knight she had come to know through Glennie.  She had always liked
Brighton a great deal until the change.  She knew that Glennie loved her
brother terribly. She could only imagine Glennie’s pain when she learned of
Brighton’s death.  She began to feel confusion and remorse.  With a heavy sigh,
she crouched down next to Brighton’s head.

“For every pain and horror you have caused me, I
should let Uncle Daniel seek vengeance,” she murmured. “I cannot say that I
have not thought of killing you myself over the past several weeks, because I
have. And I can say with certainty that I will always hold great resentment and
hatred for you against all that you have caused.   It is not unlike the pain
and suffering I endured during those years at Winchester Castle when your sister
was the only friend I had.  But she saved me then as she will save you now. For
her, I will spare your life because she was my salvation during those hellish
years and because of her, I found the strength to be strong day after day.  I
know your death would cause her great sorrow and I would never knowingly hurt
her, not after everything she did for me.  At this moment, I simply want to be
free of you and never, ever think of you again.  Do you understand me?”

Brighton’s eyes opened and he looked at her, a
flash of great longing crossing his features.  But it just as quickly vanished,
futile as it was.

 “I understand,” he muttered.

“You will never again show your face at
Canterbury?”

He closed his eyes and looked away. “Never.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear.”

Adalind stood up, looking down on him and
wondering if she was making the right decision.  She hoped so. 

“The moment I leave this church, you will cease
to exist to me, Brighton de Royans,” she murmured. “God forgive you for what
you have done to me and to Maddoc, for I certainly will not.”

With that, she turned away from him and marched
from the sanctuary.  Daniel’s gaze lingered on the fallen knight before finally
sheathing his sword and following Adalind’s trail.

The thunder rolled and the rain fell as the
priests moved in to aid the wounded warrior.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Maddoc was having a hard time riding comfortably
astride his big gray warhorse, mostly because his left side was paining him
greatly and in order to ease the pain, he had to shift his balance, which put
strain on the other parts of his body.  His entire body was one giant mass of
soreness.

But he was thankful for the pain, thankful he
was able to ride, to remain upright for extended periods of time, and thankful
he was alive.  There was so much to be thankful for as he saw it, but the one
thing he was singularly focused on was Adalind.  He was thankful he was able to
ride to claim her. However, the worst part was the not knowing; not knowing
where she was, how she was, or what had becoming of her.  It was tearing him
apart but he tried not to show it.  He tried to stay focused and strong, riding
with legendary knights all around him.  When he pulled his head out of the
clouds and looked around, it was perhaps the most impressive force he had ever
seen.

Christopher and David rode up at the head of the
column, keeping each other company like in days of old when they would ride for
Richard the Lion Heart, batting his evil brother John from one moment to the
next.  The battles those two had fought had gone beyond the world of legend
into the realm of myth nowadays.  Behind them rode Gart and his son Brydon,
riding more to the flanks of David and Christopher and so heavily armed that
Maddoc was certain their weapons and armor weighed more than the horse. 

To the rear of the column rode Gerid, Evan, and
Trevor, covering the retreat of the army, while Maddoc and his father rode well
behind Gart and Brydon.  Because of Maddoc’s vulnerability and injury, the only
way Rhys and David would allow him to ride
was
[J69]
 
if he was in a somewhat protected position.  
Maddoc had pitched a bit of a fit but had finally agreed.  He knew he was a still
a sick man when he put on all of his armor and felt as if he was walking around
with a thousand pounds of steel on.  It was almost too weighty to bear.  But he
kept his mouth shut, not wanting to worry his father, until he mounted his
horse and almost fell off.  That brought his father down on him and it was
another hour before he could convince everyone he was well enough to travel. 
Rhys agreed under one condition – that the old physic ride with them.   Maddoc
reluctantly acquiesced.

So the old physic rode in a wagon to the rear,
there for Maddoc and Maddoc alone.  When Rhys asked the physic his name, the
old man simply shook his head and told him his name was Man.  So Man rode in
the wagon, clutching his large satchel with the medicaments in it, appearing
comfortable with all of the knights around him.  Having learned his craft, as
he had told David, on the sands of The Levant, he was comfortable with armored
men
[J70]
 
and their weapons, and at his age nothing much
bothered him.

The pace on the first day was rather slow to
accommodate Maddoc but when he realized it would take them weeks to arrive at
Arundel, Maddoc ordered the pace increased on the second day and they managed
to make excellent time.  The result with Maddoc, however, was excruciating pain
in his back and blood in his urine, but he kept it to himself, fearful that
David would send him back to Canterbury.   On the morning of the third day, he
woke up barely able to move but, again, put on a brave face for the sake of his
father and the other knights.  His brother, Evan, was already watching him like
a hawk so he didn’t want to give the man fuel for his apprehension.  He
pretended that everything was fine no matter how badly he felt.

The rain, which had fallen intermittently since
they had left Canterbury, began falling in sheets on the morning of the third
day.  Everyone and everything was soaked to the skin as the army tried to light
a few cooking fires for the morning meal but were unable to do so.  Everything
was soaking. The knights, covered in wet and slop, mounted their equally wet
and sloppy steeds and resumed their positions about the column. 

This day, however, Gart and his son were at
Point, leading the army down a particularly shrouded stretch of road as the
rain fell and the thunder rolled.  Twice, Gart thought he saw a threat and sent
the younger knights out to check it out.  Maddoc and Rhys began to suspect Gart
was just doing it to give the younger, and edgier, men something to do, because
they would always return empty-handed and disappointed.   But they certainly
seemed to love the initial rush of excitement when Gart sent them on a run. 
The thought of apprehending bandits or other outlaws was a great lure.

Nearing noon, the weather was so bad that David
was considering calling a halt so that they could find some shelter for a few
hours simply to dry off.  Maddoc did not take kindly to that suggestion so the
army continued on a little longer, struggling through the driving rain and epic
mud.  At one point, the wagon carrying provisions and the old physic got stuck
in a massive rut, bringing a swarm of knights down around it as they tried to
free it. 

Gart, Brydon, Evan, Gerid, and Maddoc leapt off
their war horses and threw their considerable strength into shoving the extremely
heavy wagon from the rut, rain pouring in their faces as they tried to move
it.  Maddoc strained himself after the second huge push and was forced to back
off as Trevor and Rhys took his place, along with a host of men at arms, and
the wagon finally rolled out of the run and continued along the road.  The
knights re-mounted and returned to their posts.

By early afternoon, even Maddoc was forced to
agree that the army needed to take shelter from the storm. The wind was
whipping up and lightning bolted across the sky, creating more havoc.   As the
younger knights bolted off the road in search of a sheltering area they could
camp in, Maddoc wandered to the head of the army, his gaze on the road heading
southwest. 

Emotions he had been fighting off for days began
to swamp him again, feelings of failure and guilt.  He seriously wondered if Adalind
would look at him differently after this event, questioning his ability as a
knight and as a man.  In her eyes, he had been perfect up until that moment. 
He wondered if that would still be the case after all was said and done.

Behind him, he could hear orders being shouted
at the army to disburse in the trees and begin setting up camp.  Men and horses
began to move, but Maddoc remained in the middle of the road as the rain
pounded, his bright blue gaze fixed on the horizon as he lost himself in
thought.  But as he stared at the road, he began to see a rider appear through
the mist and rain.

It was a lone rider, well camouflaged by the
weather. Maddoc’s eyes narrowed as he tried to make out details.  Whoever it
was seemed be riding fairly swiftly for such bad weather.  His attention was
fixed on the incoming object when he heard a voice beside him.

“A rider,” Rhys muttered.

Maddoc nodded faintly. “Riding like a madman in
this weather,” he said. “He is covering a lot of ground very quickly.”

Rhys flipped up his visor and wiped the water
from his eyes. “Can you make out any standards or colors?”

Maddoc shook his head. “Not in this rain,” he
said. “All I can see is a rider and a horse. Beyond that, ‘tis difficult to….”

He suddenly trailed off, straining to see.  Rhys
didn’t think much of it, watching the rider approach, until Maddoc suddenly
hissed.

“Daniel,” he breathed.  “My God, it is Daniel.”

Like a shot, Maddoc was off, tearing down the
road with mud flying behind him.  Startled, Rhys took off after him.  Seeing
Maddoc and Rhys galloping madly down the road towards a lone rider, David and
Chris strained to see what had their interest until both of them, at the same
time, looked at each other in shock.

“Daniel!” they said in unison.

For elderly men, they managed to vault onto
their horses with a good deal of agility, following the trail of Rhys and
Maddoc.  The other knights caught sight of what was going on but Gart held them
back, unsure what was happening and unwilling to separate the rest of the
knights from the army.  But he did remove his enormous broadsword, a wicked
looking thing with a nasty serrated edge.   He was ready for a fight.  When the
younger knights saw what Gart had done, they whipped out their broadswords and
began posturing like barbarians.  Gart caught sight of all of the raging going
on behind him and fought off a smirk. Oh, but it was good to be young and
strong, and so very foolish....

Maddoc was the first one to reach Daniel down
the long stretch of road.  It seemed like he had been riding for miles when, in
fact, it had been a relatively short distance.  Daniel loomed closer and closer
on his wet and irritated steed, coming at breakneck speed, and when he tried to
pull the animal to a halt, the horse ended up sliding in the mud.  Maddoc had
to act fast so he would not be hit by the sliding horse, driving his charger
off the road and onto the wet and green embankment.