Authors: Janette Rallison
He turned to his saddlebag and took out a long thin strip of material. “Choose a place to dine, m’lady,” he said, sweeping a hand in front of him.
I looked around and saw only decaying leaves, dirt, and vegetation. It all seemed damp and unsuitable but I finally pointed to a flat spot.
“Very well.” He walked toward me, holding the material between his hands as though he were going to use it as a gag.
I stepped away from him. “What are you doing?”
“Blindfolding you, m’lady. You didn’t think I would take off my helmet and eat in your view, did you?” 211/431
“I guess not.” But I still took another step backward.
The ground felt rocky and uncertain beneath my feet. I hoped I wasn’t about to bump into a tree.
He kept holding the material taut between his hands.
“You don’t trust me.” It was a statement, not a question, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Should I?” I asked.
“You’re the one who asked to dine with me. Do we eat or not?”
My legs shook but I walked the distance that separ-ated us and held up my face. “We eat.” He tied the strip of cloth across my eyes. As he pulled it tight and knotted it, he whispered, “Do not attempt to take off your blindfold or you’ll risk losing one of your hands to my sword. My identity will stay unknown.” Then he slowly led me to the spot I’d chosen. I sat down and heard metal clanking. I didn’t know if he’d sat down or whether it was the sound of him taking off his armor.
I couldn’t be sure and wasn’t curious enough to move my blindfold to see for myself.
A few minutes passed, then I felt him untying the satchel from my waist. “As you cannot see, m’lady, it shall be my pleasure to feed you.” His voice was un-muffled now and had a smooth, familiar sound to it.
Silky, seductive.
“If you put the food in my hand, I can feed myself.” 212/431
“I wouldn’t have you dirty your hands. Here is some of the cheese you brought.”
I opened my mouth and he set a slice on my tongue. I couldn’t tell whether he was eating too. As soon as I’d finished it, I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but he put a piece of meat in my mouth. I finished that too, wondering how I was ever going to start up a conversation if every time I opened my mouth he put food into it.
I know how to flirt; I just can’t do it blindfolded and chewing.
The third time I opened my mouth, he said, “Here is something to drink,” and poured a liquid into my mouth. I didn’t recognize the taste. It wasn’t the water I’d brought, but instead had a bitter, tinny taste. Poison?
Some sort of drug? Whatever it was, I knew something had just gone terribly, dangerously wrong.
I spit the liquid out on the ground and reached up to pull the blindfold off. I didn’t care about trying to switch enchantments anymore. I would run away from him and make my way back to the castle.
He caught hold of my hands and held them tight. “It won’t do you any good.” All the softness had dropped from his voice, and now he only sounded angry. “That was truth potion I gave you. Unless you speak the truth to me your tongue will burn out of your mouth and you’ll never speak lies again. Do you think I don’t recognize an enchantress when I see one? Your beauty is not of this world. What sort of trickery is Prince Edmond up to?”
And Tristan thought it was a mistake for me to bring my makeup along. I said, “I appreciate the compliment, because I’m not an enchantress. And Prince Edmond didn’t send me.” I opened my mouth so he could see my tongue. “See, it’s still there. Will you let go of my hands now?”
He loosened his grip, but not much. His voice didn’t sound as angry now, but still just as suspicious.
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“Beautiful women are always the bait in someone’s trap and I will discover who my enemies are. Who sent you then?”
I tried not to shake. I tried not to think about what he would do if he found out the truth of my intentions. “No one. It was my own idea to ring the bell.”
“And your kinsmen want to know the secret of how to defeat me? They plan my destruction?”
“No.”
“Your husband?”
“I’m unmarried.”
“Then who was the man who tried to protect you?”
“Just a friend who’s afraid you’re going to hurt me.” I stretched my fingers, hoping he’d let go of my hands.
He didn’t.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you? Honor is all-important to a knight, right?” He laughed softly. “You’re not well acquainted with many knights, are you?”
This was not a comforting answer. My breathing was beginning to go ragged with fear.
The Black Knight’s voice grew stern and suspicious again. “You don’t want my destruction?”
“No.” Which was the truth. I didn’t want his destruction; I only wanted Tristan to beat him in jousting or 215/431
some sort of contest so that King Roderick would count it as defeat and make Tristan a prince.
I could hear the impatience in the knight’s voice.
“Then why did you want to dine with me?” I didn’t answer. His grip tightened around my wrists and he dragged me closer to him. “Why?”
“I wanted to find out more about you.”
“And?”
I took several breaths. “I wanted . . . I was hoping that
. . . you would kiss me.”
A moment passed with nothing but the sound of my breath, coming too fast. Then I heard him chuckle and his grip loosened. My hands weren’t free, but at least they no longer throbbed. When he spoke next his voice was amused. “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten that aspect of women. They find power so inexplicably attractive.” He kept hold of my wrists with one of his hands while the other stroked a path across my jawline. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I might be old and ugly, you know.”
“You’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” The next moment I felt his lips against mine, at first soft, questioning, and then he wound his fingers through my hair and pulled me closer to him.
His kiss grew more intent. Whoever the Black Knight was, he’d had plenty of practice at this. There, with his 216/431
lips against mine and my heart beating so hard it lost all rhythm, I began to regret what I’d done.
Who was I to take away the Black Knight’s enchantment? For all I knew he was a good man—a defender of the people, a king that would rival Arthur. I had no loyalty to King Roderick or Prince Edmond. Prince Edmond was not above oppressing peasants, and I had perhaps just undone the one man who could stop him.
Why hadn’t this occurred to me before?
Then again, perhaps the Black Knight was every bit as dark as his name suggested. Perhaps I’d done not only Tristan but the whole kingdom a favor. I had no way of knowing. I didn’t even know if my kiss had actually affected his enchantment at all. The magic might have been on his armor or his sword or something I hadn’t even guessed at.
When he lifted his head away from mine I trembled, caught between reproach and hope. Reproach being the heavier of the two.
I didn’t move, even though he had moved away from me. “I think we need to talk,” I said.
“Talk?”
“I need to know more about you,” I said. “I need to know—”
But he cut me off with an exasperated sigh. “You have kissed the Black Knight. Now you have a tale to tell to 217/431
your maidens, but you mustn’t ever try to see me again.
Never ring the bell for me again. Do you understand?” Yes, I understood. He was breaking up with me after our first kiss. And okay, I’d only wanted to kiss him to try and steal his power, but he didn’t know that. What was it about me that made guys immediately want to dump me?
I nodded, stung.
He still had ahold of my wrists and I felt something wind around them. I tried to move them but he held onto them tighter.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Tying your hands so you can’t take off your blindfold until I’m gone.”
“You’re going to leave me here? Blindfolded with my hands tied?”
He laughed. I wasn’t sure whether that was a yes or a no. In a moment he let go of my hands but I still couldn’t move them.
“You can’t leave me here like this,” I said. “That isn’t chivalrous.”
I heard him stand, heard the armor clanking again.
“Hatred and love are both dangers to a man; a woman is as dangerous as the blade. Don’t pine for me though, m’lady. Eventually another will take hold of your heart.” 218/431
Yeah, and that other could be a wolf or a bear if he left me here defenseless. I tugged at my hands, trying to loosen the bands. Nothing happened. I put them to my mouth and bit at them. They didn’t budge.
“One more thing,” he called to me above the clanking of his armor. “The truth potion will only work against you when you’re talking to me, but as you don’t know my identity, perhaps it’s best if you’re always truthful when talking to men—at least the young, handsome ones.”
“Can I still insult you without consequence?” He laughed and his footsteps clunked away from me.
“Insult all you like—as long as you believe it to be the truth.”
Before I could think of a proper medieval insult, he whistled and then I heard the horse trot over to him.
More clanking while I twisted pointlessly at my hands. For a minute everything was quiet and I wondered if he’d gone, but then I heard his horse walking toward me and his voice came from higher up.
“Stand up and I’ll cut off your bindings with my sword.” I stood up but didn’t hold my hands out. “Won’t you cut me if you try that?”
He let out a mocking sigh. “And I thought you’d heard of my fame. Don’t you know I never cut amiss?” 219/431
Or at least he didn’t when he’d still had that invincibility enchantment. I didn’t know if he had that anymore, which meant that if he accidentally lopped off some of my fingers, I’d at least appreciate the irony of the situation.
Oh wait—if I had the invincibility enchantment, he wouldn’t be able to chop off my fingers, would he? What exactly was involved in invincibility?
I still didn’t hold out my hands. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d rather have you untie them.” Something knocked against my hands and then the next moment they were free. I stretched out my fingers.
The feeling came back into them with pinpricks but nothing seemed to be cut. I heard the horse trotting away from me and tugged at the blindfold until I was free of it.
I stared at my hands, which were whole, uncut. So if neither of us were enchanted, he was an excellent swordsman. I looked over to the river and saw him atop his horse, walking at a leisurely pace along the bank and away from me.
At my feet, the contents of my satchel had been dumped out. Apparently he’d been looking for something incriminating. The mirror lay next to the cheese. He must not have recognized it as a wizard’s mirror but thought it belonged to me—a vain, enamored 220/431
maiden who’d brought it along because I’d wanted to make sure I looked my best when I met him.
I knelt down, picked up the mirror, and held it over my hand. When I turned it over, the breath went out of my lungs. Scrolled on the face of the mirror were the words:
No weapon shall hurt you, nor any man defeat
you in battle.
I repeated the words in my mind, staring at the disappearing writing, then I shoved the mirror into my satchel.
I shouldn’t have been afraid that the knight would suddenly turn around and wonder what I was up to. I was invincible now. But perhaps it wasn’t fear at all; perhaps it was shame.
The sound of a horse running made me look back over at the riverbank. It wasn’t the Black Knight’s horse but another rider on a horse running toward him. The Black Knight drew his sword and waited. He looked like a glossy black statue.
A young man with a lean, muscular build rode up to the knight. His shoulder-length blond hair had been mussed by the ride, making his profile even more handsome. He stared at the Black Knight with such fierceness that it took me several seconds before it registered that this was Tristan. He reined in the horse with one hand, and drew his sword with the other.
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“What have you done with her?” Tristan yelled.
“Where is she?”
The Black Knight didn’t answer, just pointed his sword in my direction. Tristan glanced at me, then looked back at the knight. He still didn’t lower his sword. “Did he hurt you?” he called to me.
“What would you do if I had, little page?” The Black Knight said. “Fight me without armor? You’re no knight.”
I gathered my skirts and got to my feet. “He didn’t hurt me.”
I knew Tristan heard me, but he didn’t lower his sword. He prodded his horse toward me, keeping his gaze firmly on the knight as though waiting for an attack.
The Black Knight turned to Tristan. “Don’t raise your sword to me again,” he said, “unless you want it cut out of your hands.” The knight sheathed his sword, probably using more force than he needed, then spurred his horse forward. In another moment he had vanished into the forest.
After he left, Tristan turned his attention to me. His gaze ran over me, examining me. A good deal of the anger dropped from his face as he put his sword away.
“You’re really all right?”
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“Yes. Unless I lie to him, then apparently my tongue will burn out of my mouth. He made me drink truth potion.” I put my hand to my tongue checking to see if I could feel any difference in it. Man, by the time I was through with these wishes I was going to be the most honest person alive.
Tristan gave me an I-told-you-not-to-mess-with-the-Black-Knight look, but he didn’t say it. Instead he dismounted from his horse and helped me pick up the scattered things from my satchel. He brushed off a roll and handed it to me. Back home neither one of us would have kept dirty bread, but I put it back in my satchel.
“Is truth potion a usual commodity around here?” I asked him. “Do people just carry a vial on them in case they meet up with any suspicious women?” Tristan shook his head. “I’ve heard of truth potion, but I’ve never known anyone who had any. It’s rare and expensive— but then I guess we already knew the Black Knight had access to a wizard.” What else did I know about him? “He asked me who you were, but then he called you a page, so he must have known that much about you. How many people knew you were a page?”