Read Two Knights of Indulgence Online

Authors: Alexandra O'Hurley

Two Knights of Indulgence (2 page)

Somehow,
Jerar’s
words
didn’t soothe him.
 
As Matthias looked
toward the slowly setting sun, he began to grieve for the life he’d just lost,
knowing no matter how much they had struggled, it would pale in comparison to
what he faced now.

****

Near
Paris
, 1285

Nicolas de Campion thrust his wooden sword forward, a
battle cry ripping from his lungs as his weapon struck his sister’s.
 
She deflected the strike and twisted her
sword to swing back in attack.
 
He moved
his feet back, lowering his center to take the blows before repelling her
strike.
 
They danced along the bailey,
their swords crossing over and over, Sybille’s blows becoming stronger and
harder for him to fend off.
 
Nicolas
jumped to the stairs, leaping over a coiled rope and out of Sybille’s reach.

“Nicolas!
 
Stop
with the theatrics.
 
I’m trying to teach
you the basics.”

“I don’t need basics.
 
I’m an expert swordsman.
 
Felix
and
Gui
showed me all I need to know.”


Gui
is seven, and Felix is eight.
 
They have
not learned much at all yet.
 
And who do
you think taught them what they know?”
 
Sybille crossed her arms over her
surcoat
, her
sword dangling from one hand.
 
“You are
no expert, little boy.
 
Now come back
here and face me.”

Nicolas was already tired of
playfighting
with wooden swords.
 
He wanted a real
sword with gleaming gems, like the one he had once spied in his father’s
room.
 
“But I’m not supposed to fight
with girls.”

Sybille looked down at herself and back to him.
 
“Do I appear to be a girl today?”

Nicolas snickered as he gazed at her standing before
him in their father’s chainmail and
surcoat
, her
hose-covered legs peeking out below.
 
Their father would likely be angry if he knew she had spirited them away
before they left for
Paris
.
 
“No, you look like a very ugly man.”

“I suppose I do not make an attractive knight.”
Sybille laughed as she glanced down at herself once more.
 
“But with our parents away, this is the best
I can do to teach you to protect yourself.
 
So come down here and let us start over.”

Nicolas jumped back down to the ground, widening his
stance and preparing for her attack.
 
The
bailey was empty but for them.
 
Gui
and Felix leaned against the
tower wall above them, watching the fight.
 

“When will our parents return, Sybille?”

Sybille paused, a frown marring her face.
 
“I do not know, Nic.
 
I wish I did.
 
Each day that passes I fear for the safety of our home.”

“We have
Guillame
and
Petior
to defend us.”

“They are no longer young men, Nic.”

“They are strong knights and will keep the bandits at
bay.
 
Father told me so before he left.”

“They are the only men left, besides the three
father
took to protect them as they went to
Paris
.
 
All the others either left for the Crusades or left when the gold dried
up.”

“The gold dried up?”

“It is about time you knew we are destitute.”

“What does destitute mean?”

“Poor.”

“We live in a fine castle.
 
We are not
poor
.”
 
Nicolas laughed. His
sister was so silly.
 
He’d seen the
beggars in town when they had gone, children in rags asking for bits of bread
or cheese.
 
They were not like those
children, so they could not be poor.

“Do you see any people here?
 
We have one old servant and two old
knights.
 
They only remain because they
are too old to leave.
 
No one works our
meager fields.
 
We have no tapestries to
keep our hall warm, no candles to light the night, no animals to get meat or
milk from.
 
Our parents and brothers have
left with every item of value to sell in
Paris
while we sit here waiting for anyone to barge in and take over our home.
 
So this is why you need to learn to protect
yourself, Nicolas.”

“Sybille, men approach!”

Nicolas turned to his brothers, who were now standing
close to the tower wall.
 
Both boys ran
down the tower steps and rushed through the bailey, across the bridge, and up
the barbican steps. Nicolas followed suit, reaching the barbican steps within
seconds.
 
He took two steps at a time as
he rushed to see who was coming.
 
He fell
into place beside Felix and gazed out across the withered ground surrounding
the castle.
 
Riders on black horses were
coming at a full gallop, a cloud of dust surrounding them, making it impossible
to see how many rode in the cluster.
 
Sybille arrived, out of breath because of the chainmail, gazing over
their shoulders at the riders.

“What do we do, Sybille?”
 
Nicolas was afraid.
 
He liked to play the brave knight, but he
knew he could not fight those men.

“Felix, go get
Guillame
and
Petior
.
 
They are
probably asleep in the kitchen.”
 
Felix
ran for the stairs, Nicolas’ gaze following him until he was out of sight.

“They will protect us?”

Sybille looked down at him, her frown returning.
 
“They are all we have, Nicolas.”

Nicolas stood frozen to the spot, watching as the men
grew close.
 
Once they were nearer,
Nicolas could see there were nearly two dozen men, all on horseback and in full
armor.
 
Guillaume and
Petior
arrived, standing behind Nicolas and the others on the barbican, looking down.

“That’s Sir Eustache’s flag,”
Petior
said from behind them.

“The devil in black, just what we need here,”
Guillaume added.
 

Both knights turned on their heels and went down the
barbican steps as Nicolas turned back to watch the raiders stop at the gates
below.
 
Guillaume and
Petior
exited the gates and began to talk to the man at the head, a towering man who
appeared too large for his enormous horse.
 
The large man handed Guillaume a piece of vellum.
 
Guillaume handed it to
Petior
since he could not read, and
Petior
broke the
seal.
 
Petior’s
eyes grew large as he read over whatever was on the page, his gaze rising as he
looked to the barbican wall.
 

Nicolas strained to hear the conversation that
followed, but they spoke too softly and the words wouldn’t glide up the stone
walls of the fortress.
 
After a few
moments, Guillaume and
Petior
dropped to their knees
before the large knight.
 
Nicolas gulped
as two of the raiders slid from their saddles and approached Guillaume and
Petior
, plunging their swords into the older men’s necks
before the writhing bodies dropped to the ground, blood gushing out and soaking
into the hard earth.

Nicolas had never seen a man killed, and he couldn’t
take his stare away.
 
Blood rushed from
the bodies onto the ground, the sun shining on the dark red.
 
Then the men did something surprising.
 
They laid the men on their backs and crossed
their arms over their chests, placing the dead men’s swords within their
grasp.
 
Each was then put on a pallet and
carried through the gates.

Sybille let out a sob and grasped his and
Gui’s
hands, rushing down the
barbican’s steps and heading for the keep.
 
Nicolas stumbled and fell in the lower bailey, making them stop.
 
A tearing sound echoed through the inner
walls as the iron gates were ripped away.
 
The only thing that stopped them now was the unguarded drawbridge, and
it would only be a matter of time before the bandits made it inside the castle.

Sybille threw them both into their parents’
bedroom.
 
“Hide in mother’s chest.
 
You both should fit inside.
 
I’m going to find Felix.”

“No!
 
Don’t go,
Sybille!”

Sybille turned at the door, half her body already
outside the room.
 
“Get in the trunk and
be quiet. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Gui
opened the lid and drew Nicolas inside before closing the top,
leaving them in utter darkness.
 
Nicolas
didn’t like the dark.
 
He wanted a candle
lit each night, but Sybille wouldn’t allow him to, saying it cost too
much.
 
He had to rely on the moon to
illuminate his room, and on some nights, that wasn’t enough as dark clouds
wrapped themselves around the heavenly body.
 
Nicolas could see nothing now and could only hear his heartbeat rushing
through his ears and he and his brother’s raspy breathing.

“Stop breathing so loud.
 
If they come in, they could hear,”
Gui
whispered.

Nicolas did everything he could to calm himself, but
his whole body trembled in fear.
 
He was
afraid he would shake the whole trunk and one of the bandits would see it
moving about his parents’ room.
 
Biting
down on his lower lip to quiet his terror, he soon tasted blood in his mouth,
the coppery tang bitter on his tongue.
 
They sat in the chest for what felt like hours, the musty scent inside making
Nicolas feel ill.
 
The stale air was hot,
and he felt trickles of sweat run down his back and belly.

Footsteps approached, shattering the silence of the
room.
 
Nicolas wrapped a hand over his
trembling lips and squeezed his eyes shut tight, hoping the men would never
find them.
 
Bright light burst as the lid
opened and firm hands wrenched him free of the space.
 
He took a deep breath of fresh air before
screaming as loud as he could.

A large palm slapped across his mouth.
 
“Be quiet, boy, if you want to live.”

Nicolas struggled against the hold but couldn’t break
it.
 
He maneuvered his face away, trying
to bite the fingers over his mouth, without much luck.
 
The man carried him out of the room and down
the winding keep stairs, out through the hall, and back outside to the lower
bailey before depositing him on the dusty ground before the large man’s
feet.
 
Gui
was dropped beside him and as he peered around,
he saw Sybille, Felix, and their servant,
Magda
,
being held by a man each.

“So these are the last of de Campion’s whelps?”

“He claimed to have seven sons and had four with him
in
Paris
, yet
we find four sons here,” came from the man who had held Nicolas.
 
Nicolas turned to scowl at the bandit and was
shocked to see he was not as old as he’d thought.
 
He was probably less than Sybille’s eight and
ten, but his strength had opposed his age.

“What of the daughter?” asked the big
man.

“I do not know.
 
We did not see any other souls here.”
 
The younger boy pointed toward Sybille and the others.
 
“Perhaps we ask them. These little ones will
not help much.”

The bandit strolled over to Sybille, drawing her free
from the man who held her and lifting her into the air to face him, her feet
dangling in the air.
 
“Where is the
little wench?”

“I am a lady, not a wench.”

The big man chuckled before ripping her helm off,
allowing her golden locks to fall about her face and shoulders.
 
“The lady thinks herself a boy?”
 
He looked closely at her as he dropped her to
her feet and caught her face in his grasp.
 
“You are as fine as your mother.
 
You will warm my bed well.”

“I will do no such thing!”

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