The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf (12 page)

"Yes, well, something like that," Lynet muttered. She had forgotten that she had changed the name back at Camelot as a part of her misguided secrecy.

"Are you ready, lad?" asked Roger suddenly. "We've been seen."

In the siege camp, soldiers and servants were pointing at the newcomers. Beaumains carefully checked his armor, loosened his sword in its scabbard, and raised in challenge a lance he had brought from Sir Persant's camp. More of the Red Knight's servants scurried about, and Lynet saw them readying a horse. Last of all, she saw the Knight of the Red Lands himself, donning his armor outside the largest of the tents.

The three travelers rode together up to the Red Knight's tent, almost in the shadow of the great tower of the castle. Lynet couldn't help glancing up the wall. There was Lyonesse, watching from a window.

"For what purpose come ye to this land?" Red Lands growled.

"Be thou the Knight of the Red Lands?" Beaumains asked punctiliously.

"I am."

"Then I take leave to call thee a most foul recreant knight, to so persecute a fair lady and so shamefully to treat those knights thou defeatest."

"Think well on those hanging knights," the Red Knight said with a sneer. "Soon you too will adorn the trees of the forest."

"Don't you mean just one tree?" asked Roger. "I mean, he's only one knight, after all. You're very imprecise about these matters, you know."

The Red Knight noticed Roger for the first time. "You!" he exclaimed.

Roger grinned. "In the flesh. I've brought my knight to you, after all, Red Britches. You remember? The one who just might be Sir Lancelot?"

The Red Knight looked back at Beaumains, a new wariness in his face. "You are the one who defeated the four brethren? And Sir Garard and Sir Arnold of the River?"

"The two chaps at the ford," Roger explained.

"I am," declared Beaumains.

"Then know that I fear thee not! Though thou be Sir Lancelot himself, I shall trample thee under my feet!"

A faint moaning noise emanated from the castle. Lynet recognized it at once as one of her sister's affectations of womanly distress. Sure enough, Lyonesse was leaning out of the castle window, carefully showing her lovely profile to anyone who cared to notice. They all turned to look, and Beaumains made a strangled sound in his throat. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

"Look away from her!" the Red Knight snapped. "She is my lady!"

"Never have I seen such loveliness," Beaumains whispered, still gazing at Lyonesse.

"She's mine, I say!"

"Nay," Beaumains replied breathlessly. His face wore a fierce determination. "She will be mine! For this perfect woman alone will I love all the days of my
life. For her I have done many strong battles, and for her sake will I defeat thee!"

Lynet grew cold and still inside. She forced herself to keep her face empty, but when she looked up at her beautiful sister, so frail in appearance but once again victorious, Lynet burned with a hatred that shocked her. At that moment she gladly would have murdered Lyonesse.

A quiet voice beside her said, "I'm sorry, lass."

There was nothing to say. She wanted to act bright and cheerful, but Roger knew better. She raised her chin and smiled.

"That's the dandy, Lynet. As I've said before, I believe you could brazen your way through anything." He leaned forward in his saddle and took her mare's reins. "Come this way, lass. They're about to fight." He led her to one side, while Beaumains and the Red Knight took their places.

Lynet did not remember much of the fight, though she saw every move that Lyonesse made in the window. She was vaguely aware that the knights unhorsed each other with lances, then fought with swords, but beyond that she saw little that happened on the field. From the tower window, Lyonesse watched the battle eagerly, licking her lips occasionally, like a cat. For several minutes Lynet truly hated her sister, but hatred was not natural for Lynet, and at last it ebbed, leaving behind only the ache of despair.

"Hit him, stupid!" muttered Roger, watching the battle beside her. "Don't just stand there, nodcock! If you're going to fight, fight!" He swore bitterly under his breath.

"What is it, Roger?" Lynet asked, forcing her eyes away from her sister.

"He's favoring his left side. I'm afraid the wound may have broken open again." He grunted and added, "Not that I care whether the son of a—whether our dim boy gets bashed about a bit, but we need him to win, or the Red Knight will kill us too."

Lynet had not thought of that. She watched the battle more closely. Roger was right: Beaumains was losing ground. His shield, which was hacked almost in pieces anyway, hung limply at his left side. Only by truly brilliant swordplay, parrying each blow perfectly, was Beaumains surviving the Red Knight's attacks. Suddenly, Beaumains lunged forward, twisting his body to avoid a blow and thrusting with his own sword at the same time. The Red Knight swung his sword and missed, then seemed to freeze. Beaumains's sword had gone into a gap in the Red Knight's armor and was buried deep in the Red Knight's side. Beaumains withdrew his sword, and with a final mighty blow neatly sliced his enemy's head from his shoulders.

Roger urged his horse forward, and Lynet followed. As they drew near, Lynet could hear her sister's voice.

"It was well fought, O knight," she said.

"If I fought well, my lady, it was because I fought for thee, the most beautiful lady in the world," Beaumains gasped. "I offer myself to thee, forever, and I beg thee to open thy gate and receive my heart within!"

Roger made a rude noise. "Disgusting!" he said.

"Ah, now that is a different matter," said Lyonesse. "For before my beloved father's death, I promised him that I would marry no lowborn knight, be he ever so great a fighter."

"That's a lie, Lyon!" Lynet said with a gasp. "You never—"

"It was between Papa and me, sister!" Lyonesse said, squinting fiercely at Lynet. She turned back to Beaumains. "What is thy name, O knight?"

"That I cannot say," Beaumains said, dejected. "Sir Kai called me upon scorn Beaumains, but more than that I cannot reveal. I too have taken a vow."

Lyonesse shrugged. "Then I cannot let you in. Thank you for your help, but I must not allow unknown feet to enter these gates."

Outraged, Lynet cried, "Poppycock, Lyon! This knight has just risked his life for you!"

"I said thank you, didn't I?" Lyonesse replied pettishly. "If he loves me, why won't he tell me his name, then? That's all I ask."

"What do you expect him to do now, then?" demanded Lynet.

"Ride away, I suppose," Lyonesse answered.

"I go then, because thou sayest so," Beaumains answered, despair in his voice. "But know, my lady, that I have never loved any woman before, nor shall I ever love another woman but thee."

Lynet felt Beaumains's words like tiny darts in her heart, and Lyonesse simpered coquettishly from her window. Roger urged his horse forward and nudged Beaumains, none too gently, with his mount's shoulder. "Come on, you blithering ass, let's go. She doesn't want you."

Beaumains turned and staggered dejectedly toward his horse. Roger started to follow, but Lynet said, "Roger?"

He stopped. "Ay, lass?"

"Where will you go?"

Roger shrugged, his face bleak. "We'll find somewhere. Goodbye, my lady." And then Roger rode away with the slumping Beaumains, and Lynet watched them go, wanting to follow but unable to move, wanting to cry but not knowing how, wanting to tell Roger something important but not knowing what.

As her companions disappeared, Lynet tried frantically to think of a reason to go with them, but she couldn't, so she turned her mare and rode slowly into the Castle Perle. In the stables, she rubbed down her mare, as Roger had taught her, and when she could think of no other task, she reluctantly went into the castle keep.

Lyonesse pounced on her as soon as she entered. "Well? Who is he?" she demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Lynet asked. At the sight of her sister, Lynet's anger had flamed again, but she forced herself to speak calmly.

"My knight, of course!" Lyonesse exclaimed. "You brought him, didn't you? What is his name?"

"He told you. He's called Beaumains."

"Yes, I know that, but what is his real name? Uncle Gringamore says he's too good to be an unknown. He
thinks he might even be Gawain or Lancelot in disguise. Is he?"

"I never asked him," Lynet said. "If a man doesn't want to tell his real name, I can respect that." Lyonesse stared at her sister incredulously, but Lynet continued, choosing her words carefully. "What do you care, anyway? You sent him away."

Lyonesse burst into shrill laughter. "Oh, you poor simple girl! Of course I sent him away! If I hadn't, he would have lost interest in me. Men don't want women who are easily won."

"Easily? He almost died for you!"

Lyonesse dismissed this with a toss of her head. "You'll see. He'll be back, begging. In the meantime, I
must
find out who he is! Did he ever say anything that might give us a clue?"

Lynet did not answer. She pushed roughly past her sister and strode down the hall to her own bedchamber. She closed the door firmly and looked dully at the familiar furniture, wondering why it all seemed so strange.

She couldn't stay in her room forever, though, especially once her stomach began to rumble, and so at dinnertime she joined Lyonesse and Sir Gringamore in the small dining room where the family took its meals. Lyonesse acknowledged Lynet's arrival with only the barest of nods, but Sir Gringamore greeted her jovially. "Good to see you, Lynnie. It's been deuced slow here without you," he said.

Lynet chose a seat beside a roast capon and began to help herself. Lyonesse spoke to Sir Gringamore. "All right. We know from the stories that sometimes Sir Lancelot rides in disguise."

"True, true," replied Sir Gringamore. "If you count the time that he wore Sir Kai's armor on a quest. Tristram's gone incognito too, I hear."

"I don't want Sir Tristram," Lyonesse said impatiently. "He's in love with Queen Isoult. I'm sure she's not as pretty as I am, but you know that she and Tristram drank a love potion. He's no good to me." Lynet grimaced at Lyonesse's selfishness, but Lyonesse ignored her. "But this knight might indeed be Sir Lancelot, don't you think?"

"Forget it, Lyon," Lynet said scornfully. "I don't know who he is, but I know he's not Lancelot. He says that Sir Lancelot was the one who knighted him. Besides, I hear that Lancelot's tired of fighting."

Lyonesse pinched her face together in a scowl. Lynet suddenly remembered Lady Eileen's comment about "skinny and peevish-looking" and felt slightly cheered. Lyonesse saw Lynet's smile and misunderstood. "You
do
know something! Tell us, Lynnie! I must know! I can't marry a nobody!"

"Marry?" Lynet said, stunned. "Have you thought
that maybe he doesn't want to marry you, now? Maybe he's realized that you're nothing but a hateful, selfish shrew!"

Sir Gringamore chuckled. "There, see? That's the sort of cozy family chat I've been missing." He looked at Lynet. "If you don't know his name, then do you know someone else who does?"

"Nobody who would tell Lyon," Lynet said deliberately.

Lyonesse scowled again. Suddenly, her brow cleared. "Say, what about that dwarf? The one who brought us the message and who rode away with the knight? Does he know?" Lynet hesitated, and Lyonesse crowed with triumph. "He does, doesn't he! I can see it in your face!"

"It doesn't matter if he does," Lynet retorted. "He won't tell you. He says you're ugly."

Lyonesse's eyes flashed, but she said, "What does a dwarf know about human beauty?"

Lynet rose slowly from her chair. "Roger knows more about beauty than you know about being human," she said in an icy voice. Lyonesse stared wide-eyed at Lynet's hand and swallowed hard. Lynet realized that she was still holding the carving knife and had been pointing it at Lyonesse's breast. She laid the knife down slowly and gathered a few plates of food. "I'll take the rest of my dinner in my room, I think," she
said. Neither Lyonesse nor Sir Gringamore spoke as Lynet left the room.

Lynet took most of her meals in her own room for the next few days, avoiding Lyonesse's company. Having gotten away for several weeks, she found castle life unutterably dull and her sister unendurable. Until she had seen Lyonesse callously reject Beaumains's love, she had not realized exactly how cruel her sister could be. If Lyonesse didn't love Beaumains, why did she have to show her profile and capture his heart so effortlessly? She might have left him for someone else, after all. No, it was best that Lynet stay away from Lyonesse, especially when there were carving knives at hand.

In truth, it was not difficult to avoid Lyonesse. After that first night, Lyonesse spent most of her time closeted with Sir Gringamore, talking in whispers and obviously hatching plots. Lynet didn't want to know their schemes, but on the third afternoon, she found that she couldn't avoid Lyonesse's plans entirely. Lynet had decided to take a ride, to get away from the castle at least temporarily, but the head groom stiffly informed her that Lynet was not to be allowed a horse until Lady Lyonesse gave further orders. Furious, and determined not to be Lyonesse's prisoner, Lynet decided that if she couldn't ride, she'd walk.

Brushing by the protesting and clearly discomfited guards at the gate, Lynet strode out into the meadow that until recently had been the camp of the Red Knight. Cold campfires and the usual camp trash lay about, but everything of value had been carted away by the Red Knight's suddenly masterless servants. Beyond the dead camp, just a half mile away, Lynet saw the forest, and she quickened her step. She longed for the purifying scent of pines and the soothing hush of the forest breeze.

When she stepped into the shadows, she immediately felt herself relax, and she was able to breathe deeply again. For hours she wandered among the trees, reflecting nostalgically on her long rides with Roger and Beaumains, and her conversations with the dwarf at their campfires. When the sun began to pale and lower, she regretfully decided that she should be turning toward home. She checked the forest signs that Roger had taught her, determined which direction to go, and had just started to walk when the sound of an axe made her stop. Someone was cutting wood nearby.