Authors: David Wind
Morgan, his eyes closed, gave himself over to her, and a few moments later his loud groan of pleasure echoed in the silent bedchamber.
Yet again, as it had been since the day he'd met Gwendolyn, he saw only her body before him, only her hair, and only her lips.
"I will have you," he whispered when he withdrew, spent, from the slave girl's mouth.
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Gwendolyn held the vellum at arm's distance. Just its nearness sent waves of hatred speeding through her mind. Morgan's almost unintelligible scribing was much like the man himself. But her plan was working well, and she would soon be free of him. Yet, she did not lose the edge of wariness she held him in and had not forgotten her defeat at his hand two years before.
"My lord, it is almost time," James advised as he adjusted the hauberk on her shoulders.
“Very well,” she said, dropping the message onto the floor and turning to face her squire. She took the mask he held, and once it was on, bent so that James could drape the coif-de-maille over her head.
Then she turned to face the archway of the chamber to wait for her enemy's entrance. Hatred rose in terrifying waves, threatening her very ability to stand silent when he came. She had never in her life wanted anyone to die as she did Morgan, but she would wait until the proper time.
The day before, Gwendolyn had gotten his message asking for an audience with her. This morning she had sent Arthur with her reply, inviting him to join her in the privacy of her chambers.
But he would not find Gwendolyn.
"He comes," said Arthur, stepping into the chamber and going to James's side. Together, the identical twin squires stepped against the wall and waited.
Morgan came into the chamber; a smile set on his lips, but froze when he found himself face-to-face with Eldwin.
"Where is your mistress?"
Eldwin stood still, the dark slits before his eyes looking directly at Morgan.
"Answer me, you damned fool!"
"Lady Gwendolyn was forced to cancel her appointment with you," James said.
"What is the meaning of this?" Morgan's anger gripped him, and his face began to mottle with purplish blood.
Eldwin lifted a mailled hand. In it was a fighting gauntlet of steel and leather. With a blur of motion, Eldwin flung the metal-embedded glove at Morgan, striking him fully in the cheek. When the gauntlet fell to the ground, James spoke.
"You are challenged, Morgan of Guildswood. Your treachery and treason have been discovered, and Sir Eldwin demands the satisfaction of your blood in return for that of Sir Miles Delong."
Morgan ignored the pain in his cheek and did not realize the steel edge of the gauntlet had opened his flesh. He stared at Eldwin for a long silent moment.
“Accepted."
"When the sun rises, Morgan of Guildswood, Eldwin will meet you."
"Done!" Morgan spat.
A moment later, the chamber was silent again. In that silence, James and Arthur removed Gwendolyn's armor. Then Roweena entered the chamber with Gwendolyn's evening clothing. Along with her message to Morgan, she had sent another to Richard, begging an audience and writing that it was of the utmost importance.
Richard had agreed, and was to join her for the evening meal once again. Tonight he would learn of Morgan's treachery, and of the fight on the morrow.
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"Impossible! Morgan has been among the bravest of fighters. Many battles would have been lost if it had not been for Morgan and his knights," Richard stated after Gwendolyn had faced him with the actuality of Morgan's deed.
"It is as I have stated, Sire. Morgan has had dealings with Saladin. He has acted the traitor in his efforts to destroy my husband."
"You were in England when this happened. How could you know of it?" Richard demanded, unyielding in the face of what he thought to be a woman's weak hysteria.
Gwendolyn drew in a deep breath and stood calmly.
"Your Majesty, I did not cross the ocean to demean myself by becoming a camp follower. I came because I knew what had happened, and I could not sit helplessly by while my husband rots within Saladin's grip and Morgan laughs at us all. I have the means to free Miles, and I intend to do so. I have told you of Morgan's deed and am but warning you that on the morrow, when the sun rises, Morgan of Guildswood will meet Eldwin and his evil life upon this earth will end!"
"You have the audacity to tell me! You ask not my permission to seek vengeance, but merely inform me of the fact?"
"My lord, as God is my witness, there is no man upon this earth who will stop me from what I do. I have spoken to you of Morgan's treachery so you will know that Eldwin does not seek the blood of a good man."
"Do not make me angrier than I am. One more word, Lady Gwendolyn, and I will send you back to England," Richard threatened, rising to his full and menacing height.
But nothing he could do or say brought the least amount of fear to Gwendolyn. "Sire," she said in a barely audible voice, "I am loyal to you, as is my husband. Do not force me to fight you, for it would ill suit you to have my blood on your hands."
Richard stared at her, and then a smile formed on his lips.
"This is the second time you have stood against me. Because of this courage of yours, if for no other reason, I shall respect your wishes. But, I demand proof of Morgan's treachery."
"And you shall have it. Arthur!" Gwendolyn's voice was loud, and within a moment, the light-haired squire entered the chamber.
"Tell the king what you overheard."
Five minutes later, a mollified Richard sat heavily on a cushion. "It shall be as you have asked. I will tell my knights of Morgan's treason so that they, too, may witness his execution."
"No, Majesty, it is for me and mine to do. I want no execution. I want satisfaction. He has shamed us all, but he has hurt me the most, for it is his twisted desire for me that made him go to Saladin."
Richard stared at her, his jeweled eyes darkening as he paced the room with the feline energy that was his mark. Everything that had happened since Miles's capture flashed through his mind, and he realized just how deceived he had been by Morgan. He also remembered his hurt and humiliation for the way Saladin had held up Miles, his friend, to taunt him during their battles.
"Every move I have planned, every defeat I have suffered in the past months, has been because of Morgan. I wish that it could be my own hand that takes his lifeblood. I would watch his death and draw wisdom from it!"
"But no others," Gwendolyn begged.
"No others, if you so desire. But I would think you would want all of Christendom to be witness."
"My lord, just yourself, for no others would understand what they would see. Eldwin is different than most. He would not have the men he joins in battle be frightened of him.”
"I do not understand what you say, but I shall do as you ask."
When Richard had gone, Gwendolyn sat for several long hours preparing for what would happen when she met Morgan. She knew anger held her in its vacillating grip, but she did not force it away; rather she let it feed her muscles and prepare her for what must be done.
It was late when she fell asleep, and when she did, she did not know that three others sat near her form, each holding a weapon and guarding her against their own fears of Morgan and his devious mind.
<><><>
In the early hours before dawn, Arthur walked through a narrow street until he reached the landside gates of the small town. He and James knew just how devious Morgan could be and, after Gwendolyn had fallen asleep, they had agreed on their own plan. After the challenge to Morgan had been issued, and after their mistress had spoken to the king, Gwendolyn had sent Arthur to Morgan's abode to deliver the location where Eldwin would meet Morgan.
It would be in a grove outside the town, hidden from the eyes of the town, on the landward side of Ascalon. Arthur had argued with Gwendolyn that they should not notify Morgan of where the fight would take place, but rather, send for him in the morning.
But Gwendolyn, choosing to follow the code of chivalry she had promised to uphold as Eldwin, ordered Arthur to tell Morgan of the grove. He had done so, and although he had tried to stay near, he'd been unable to get within hearing distance. Yet, he knew Morgan well, and knew not to trust him.
Now, with but a few short hours before the duel, Arthur stood at the stone wall of the town, looking for the best place to hide.
He climbed the wall near the low tower and was hidden by the dark night, and by the black cloak he wore. He sat patiently, waiting for what he knew would happen.
An hour later his vigil was rewarded, as several men rode to the very gate near which he sat. In the lightening sky, he saw the riders wearing the coat of arms of Guildswood and knew his time on the wall had been wisely spent.
When the men were out of the town, Arthur came down from the wall and went directly to the chambers of Radstock's knights. There, he woke Justin and explained what would be happening. Twenty minutes later, Justin, with seven of his own men, rode out of Ascalon toward the small grove.
None of the men wore full armor, only maille hauberks.
Each carried a longbow and each knew what must be done.
With his mind more at ease, Arthur returned to Gwendolyn's chamber and sat next to his twin brother and Roweena to continue the watch over their mistress until the first rays of sun broke across the sleeping town.
Book IV
Of the Power and Might of the Issue of Kildrake
Chapter Twenty-one
IT
was one of those rare spring days that welcomed life with both beauty and grace. The sky was clear and blue, and the air that came in from the sea was warm and fresh, bathing Ascalon with scents of salt and peace.
Within the fortressed city, life stirred to greet the day, and the town's inhabitants went about their daily duties, unaware that just outside the walls, a drama was unfolding. In a small grove, called the Oasis of the Just, Gwendolyn, in the guise of Eldwin, waited for her enemy's arrival. From the moment she had set foot in Ascalon, she had searched for the best place to meet Morgan that would be undetected by the thousands of men who followed Richard.
Arthur had spoken with several knights and had learned of a small grove which had been used by the nomadic Moors who had traded with the merchants of the town for many years before the fighting had begun.
After issuing the challenge to Morgan, Gwendolyn had sent a message to the knight, telling him that Sir Eldwin would be waiting for him in the grove one hour after the sun had risen.
An hour before sunrise, Eldwin, leading a small procession, had gone from Ascalon to the Oasis of the Just. Two Moslem servants carried a curtained litter that supposedly held Gwendolyn, while Arthur and James rode at its side, and two of the knights of Radstock brought up the rear. When they reached the center of the grove, Eldwin, dressed in armor, walked to the middle of the grove and kneeled, the silver sword held before her in both gauntleted hands.
Roweena sat within the litter and watched her mistress walk from her. She felt strange, dressed in Gwendolyn's clothing, pretending, as she had so often in the past two years, to be the woman she served. But within her heart and mind rested a certainty that Gwendolyn was not an ordinary person, but one destined for things which Roweena herself could not understand.
While Gwendolyn kneeled away from her, Roweena parted the curtains and called the two Moslems to her, giving them the instructions she had been told to by Gwendolyn. She spoke to them through the shimmering veil which hid her features from any prying eyes, and when she closed the curtains, the two Moslems stepped into the woods and sat, hidden from view.
Arthur and James stood by the horses, allowing their mistress to be alone and to meditate as was her wont. Yet both squires could not stop their matching blue eyes from searching the trees, and wondering if Justin had been successful in stopping Morgan's men.
The sun broke above the horizon, flooding the land with golden light. Random rays of yellow light filtered through the trees, and one struck the silver blade, making it glow gently.
Gwendolyn, her eyes dosed behind the chamois mask, had freed her mind to roam, content to wait for Morgan within a light trance. But suddenly she felt the sword come alive, and when she opened her eyes, she saw its length caressed by the sun.
Then, within her mind, the same warmth seemed to caress her body and remind her of the path she had followed to come here today. "Yes, Child of Thunder, you have been guided to this spot. Remember what you have learned. Draw upon it and utilize it, for it is your most important strength. Do not forget that Morgan knows not the forces which govern him and use him for their own ends."
Gwendolyn accepted the soft words of the priestess within her mind and returned the warmth she had been given. Then, with the sun rising powerfully in the crystal clear sky, Eldwin rose to her full height within the center of the Oasis of the Just.
The silver sword now hung at her side. It was the only weapon Sir Eldwin carried, the only weapon she would need. The sunlight glinted off her steel helmet, emphasizing the darkness of the chamois mask.
When Gwendolyn stood, James moved to her side. He wore the padded armor of a squire and the surcoat of Radstock, Arthur remained with the black stallion that Eldwin rode. He, too, was dressed in the colors of Radstock.
The scene was set perfectly. The curtained conveyance rested within the shadows of the trees, the shadows lending even more darkness to the curtains to protect the identity of its occupant. On top of the litter perched Valkyrie, his amber eyes were never still; constantly searching the woods around him.
The two knights who had escorted the party were now stationed at the entrance of the grove facing Ascalon. There they waited for Richard and Morgan. A rider burst through the trees, and Gwendolyn watched Richard, disguised in a plain mantle, ride to where Arthur stood with the other horses. He dismounted and silently went to stand within the woods, hidden from view, but within clear sight of the open area.
Gwendolyn watched everything that was happening around her, but could not think about it. Her entire being was concentrated in her wait for Morgan. Since awakening this morning, she had not spoken. She refused the food that Roweena had prepared and let James dress her completely. Anticipation flowed through her body and mind—anticipation that with this day's end, she would be even closer to Miles.
The echoes of hooves floated within the silent air of the grove, and Gwendolyn's nerves began to tense. Her hand tightened on the hilt of the sword, and through her maille- encased hands, she drew warmth from the blade.
When Morgan rode into the grove, Gwendolyn willed herself to see the foul black aura that surrounded him. Her breath hissed in an angry stream, and her fingers curled tighter around the silver.
Morgan was dressed in full armor, and draped on his body was sword and mace. Yet the sight did not bother Gwendolyn at all; in fact, she welcomed it. Her rage had been contained for too long, and she needed to expel its harsh force.
Morgan wore his dark surcoat, and beneath the conical helmet, his eyes bore down on Eldwin's form. He dismounted slowly, letting his squire take the horse's reins and lead him away.
"Are you prepared to meet your end? For you shall not leave this grove with breath in your body," he told Eldwin.
Gwendolyn stared at him.
"So you wish death to be met silently?"
Again Gwendolyn merely stared at him through the opening in her mask.
"Then it shall be as you desire. And, when I am finished with you and leave your body to rot, I will take your mistress for my slave!" Saying that, Morgan turned from Eldwin and started toward the curtained litter and the dark shape within.
Instantly, Arthur and James blocked his path.
Morgan stopped before them, a frown on his lips. "Lady Gwendolyn does not wish to speak with you," James said.
Moving quickly, Morgan pushed both squires out of the way, and stepped closer to the litter. "Face me, Gwendolyn!" he shouted.
Valkyrie gave vent to a warning scream as he turned to stare at Morgan. His wings were spread a full five feet, and his burning amber eyes seemed to throw flames at the knight. Morgan froze for a moment, but before he could continue, Eldwin blocked the way, the silver sword's point resting over Morgan's heart.
"You will be mine today!" Then the anger left Morgan's face and he smiled at Eldwin. "It is time."
Gwendolyn lowered the sword and nodded her head.
Turning her back on him, she walked to the center of the grove. His words fed her anger, and she could barely control the trembling of her hand on the pommel of the sword. But she fought for control and won. When she faced Morgan again, her hands were steady.
When he was ten feet from Eldwin, Morgan drew his sword and grasped it in two hands. "Die!" he screamed loudly.
But he did not move. Gwendolyn saw his eyes flicker madly about, skimming through the trees. "Now!" he shouted again. "Kill him now!"
A loud thud sounded hollowly within the grove and Morgan spun. Behind him lay the unconscious body of one of his men. Again a body fell from the trees, and Morgan spun to see yet another of his men fall.
In the space of a minute, five bodies littered the ground of the grove. A moment later, the hidden knights of Radstock emerged, their longbows unstrung.
Sir Justin stopped between Morgan and Eldwin. "There are none left to win this fight, save yourself, Morgan." With that, Justin drew his sword and saluted Eldwin.
Gwendolyn closed her eyes for a moment in relief. For all her planning, she had not thought that Morgan would try to kill her in any other way than by their own fight. But she should have known better. She should have.
She watched Justin walk away and join his men. Then she stepped toward Morgan, her sword held high in challenge.
"Damn you!" Morgan roared, coming at her like a mad bull.
Gwendolyn set herself for his attack, and when he reached her, she ducked under his wild swing, letting the force of his charge carry him past her.
She waited until he turned to face her again. His face was discolored, and the dark nasal bar almost blended with his distorted features. But this time Morgan did not charge her blindly. He moved steadily at her, and she knew the fight was truly on.
Clearing her mind of everything, Gwendolyn hefted her longsword. She opened the channel in her mind and felt the sword vibrate in her hands. Then Morgan was on her, and her own sword blurred in the air, meeting his above their heads. Sparks flew from the juncture of their blades, and the clash of metal filled the trees.
Morgan moved quickly, sliding his blade into her quillons in an effort to disarm her. Gwendolyn locked her wrists, and when his blade hit the sword's crossbar, she stepped back, flicked her wrists, and neatly disengaged the other blade.
Her breathing deepened as her lungs drew life from the air in the grove. She became attuned to her body, to the smooth flowing of her blood, and the steady beating of her heart. When she moved, her breasts pressed against their bindings and her muscles quivered in anticipation of the fight's pace. Everything around her was visible, and her mind was brilliantly clear.
Then she changed her stride, spinning before Morgan in a sudden rhythmical move, the silver blade whistling through the air in a deadly arc aimed at his head.
When Eldwin moved, Morgan instinctively readied himself for the attack. He lifted his sword, and an instant later Eldwin's blade met his, inches from his face.
In that moment, while their blades held and their faces were close together, Morgan sensed a strange power flowing from Eldwin. He sensed death and defeat, and a cold chill gripped him.
Using his animal-like strength, he pushed the other away and stepped back. He gauged his enemy while he shook away the feeling of dread. Yet it lingered in his mind until he felt something begin to seep into his thoughts and return his courage. Accepting whatever had come to his aid, Morgan roared his defiance at Eldwin and drew on his years of training. He charged Eldwin, uncaring of himself as he sought to strike a deadly blow.
Gwendolyn had watched Morgan drawback, and then heard his loud scream. When he moved toward her, she was ready. Everything was in crystal focus, and all that remained of the world was Morgan's dark bulk before her.
She held back the power of the sword, yet did not let it fade completely. She met him halfway, and their blades began a dance that blurred within the vision of the witnesses. Both knights fought passionately, attacking and defending, thrusting and deflecting.
Suddenly Morgan dropped to his knees to duck under a hard swing. Gwendolyn was carried past him by her force, and took three steps before she could regain her balance and face him.
"No!" yelled James in warning, but it was too late.
Morgan had drawn his battle dagger and flung it at Eldwin, even as he stood.
The deadly blade sailed through the air faster than Gwendolyn could react. Turning from it, Gwendolyn did the only thing she could—she tried to make herself a smaller target. But she was unable to do so, and the battle dagger, highly tempered and honed to the thinness of a leaf, struck her side and penetrated the maille.
A flash of pain shot through her side, but she did not succumb to it. Moving quickly, Gwendolyn twisted back to face Morgan's new charge. She whirled her arms, and her sword blurred in the air. More sparks flew, and Morgan's fatal blow was avoided.
But the pain from the dagger was intensified by her movements. Quickly stepping back, Gwendolyn grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it free. Her only sound was a loud grunt. Then she held the bloodied instrument before her. Rage filled her mind and she flung the blade away.
Then she attacked Morgan, letting loose the powers within her mind. The silver blade began to glow, and suddenly the dark aura surrounding Morgan deepened. His eyes seemed to sink deep into his head, and a haunting, evil laughter bubbled from his throat. "Think you the better of me?" he asked in a strange voice. The ground shook, and a fierce gust of wind shot through the grove. Valkyrie's cry shattered the air as a whirlpool of wind and earth swirled around them, cutting them off from those who witnessed the battle.
It was as if a sheet of earth had been lifted; nothing was visible outside the small circle they stood in, and no eyes, other than Morgan's and Gwendolyn's, saw what ensued.
Morgan cried out again, and his voice changed into an echoing specter of vileness. "Defy me, will you? Kill me, will you?" he shouted. Suddenly Gwendolyn realized his words had not been voiced—his words had not assaulted her ears, but her mind. It was as if his blade had pierced into her soul.