Warriors Of Legend (49 page)
Read Warriors Of Legend Online
Authors: Dana D'Angelo Kathryn Loch Kathryn Le Veque
His frown deepened into a scowl. “What mean you?”
Behind her a serving maid stepped into view with another bundle.
You will wait for vindication until we have Appleby well in hand and two squalling babes at our feet,
Kate had said.
Micah’s bellow rang through the keep. “
Twins?”
The Promise
A Medieval Christmas Novella
by
Dana D’Angelo
Copyright Information
A Novella by Dana D’Angelo
Copyright © 2012
All rights reserved. This book, in its entirety or in parts, may not be reproduced in any format without expressed permission. Scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book through the Internet or through any other type of distribution or retrieval channel without the permission of the author is illegal and is punishable by law. Please do not engage in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
The characters, places and events portrayed in this fictional work are a result of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real events, locales, or people, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
The Promise
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
England December 1356
“Help!” The cry echoed in the bitter cold and seemed to somehow become muffled by the heavy snow.
The mount beneath Sir Gavin of Ashburn snorted.
He pulled at the reins and stopped, listening for the sound again. He didn’t have to wait long to hear desperate weeping, followed by vicious laughter.
Ulric pulled in his horse. “Should we intervene?” he asked.
“Since when have we not intervened?” Gavin asked as he slipped off his courser.
Ulric followed suit. He looked over at his companion, and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m asking in case you wanted to forgo being a hero today.”
Gavin grunted but didn’t reply. He lifted the longbow that he usually carried over his shoulders and hung it off the saddle. Then he unsheathed his broadsword.
It wasn’t the most ideal place to stop, he knew. But he couldn’t leave a man in peril, especially since it was nearing Christmastide, and the outlaws were out in full force. He clenched his teeth at the thought. Robbers and outlaws were the pests of society. They patrolled the King’s highway looking for easy gain, often killing and maiming innocent travelers so that no witnesses would report them to the sheriff. God knew, they had inflicted enough pain and suffering in his own life. Gavin shook his head, fighting back the familiar tightening in his chest. Now was not the time to think about the past, he reminded himself.
Gavin gripped the hilt of his sword. Still, the idea of freeing the world of society’s scum had a certain appeal.
“The sound is coming from there, beyond the trees,” Ulric said, breaking into Gavin’s thoughts.
“Let’s go.”
They crept through the trees, the deep snow slowing their progress. Soon enough the murmuring voices grew louder.
Gavin stopped behind a large birch tree and peered over the side.
There sitting on a horse, was tall, lean man. His face, marred by battle scars, seemed somehow different from his peers, as if he had once held a military position of rank. Judging from the clothing the motley crew wore, and the way they carried their swords, Gavin surmised that they were disgraced fighting men.
Five of the underlings forced a man of obvious wealth to the ground. One robber tore open the nobleman’s coat. He ripped off the money pouch that was attached to his belt, and tugged at the rings on his fingers.
Not far from the nobleman lay the dead body of his military escort.
“Did you get of all his valuables?” asked the man on the horse.
The robber let out an ugly laugh. He was squat, with a face that seemed as if someone had deliberately stepped on it. “Aye, I think we took all the coins and jewels he has,” he said in a rough voice, “We should take his fine clothes too.”
The nobleman whimpered, and pulled his legs up to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible and avoid their notice.
“Shall we kill him? ‘Twould be the perfect Christmastide gift for his family,” another man suggested. The squat man laughed as if he had never heard of anything so funny.
“Nay!” the nobleman shouted, his voice sounding thin and high pitched. He scrambled up on his knees, his palms together in prayer. “Please, I do not want to die. I have three grown daughters to care for…”
“Let’s do it; let’s kill him,” another outlaw said. He touched the nobleman’s expensive coat, almost caressing it. “This rabbit fur trimmed coat will fetch us a pretty gold coin from the tailor in the next town,” he tugged at the coat, “Take it off.”
Out of desperation, the nobleman shoved the man away. Surprised by the sudden movement, the robber stumbled backwards and lost footing. His companions laughed at him. When he regained his balance, his pock marked face turned red with fury. “I gave you a chance to take the coat off willingly,” he growled. “But never mind that. The blood will wash off once I take it off your dead body.” He raised his sword to strike the defenseless man.
For a moment, the nobleman’s eyes widened with fear. “Nay, oh God!” He tucked his chin sharply into his chest, his arms held tightly over his head, bracing against the killer blow to come.
Greed. Gavin’s grip on his sword tightened. It sickened him to think that someone he loved had fallen under the mercy of criminals like these. There wasn’t anything he could do to bring Annabelle back, but he could at least save this man from the same fate.
Gavin stepped out from behind the tree. “That’s as far as you need to go,” he said. Ulric moved to the other side of him, his face grim.
All six outlaws whipped their heads around in unison; their movements stilled by the sound of Gavin’s voice.
But their skittish behavior faded when they saw that it was just Gavin and Ulric.
The leader gripped at his reins with one hand, and placed his other hand on his sword belt. “Move along, brother,” he said. “This does not concern you.”
“I’m afraid that I cannot allow you to kill a defenseless man,” Gavin said.
The nobleman on the ground lifted his head, a hopeful, desperate look in his eyes. “Help me, sire,” he said. He clasped his palms together, pleading. “I’ll give you anything you desire. Anything!”
“You,” the leader said to one of the robbers who looked like he had only recently emerged from behind his mother’s skirts. “Stay with the quarry.” He then waved at the others. “The rest of you surround these men.”
Gavin brought up his sword. He could feel every muscle in his body tightening as the robbers made a wide circle around him and Ulric.
“We can share some of the spoils with you,” the leader said, speaking slowly. He pointed to the road beyond the trees. “Just leave us and forget what you saw.”
“Are you mad, Thomas?” hissed the pock faced man. He gripped his sword tighter as if he wanted to thrust the blade into the leader. “Why should they get anything at all when we did all the hard work to capture the quarry?”
“Don’t mind him,” Thomas said, his eyes fastened onto Gavin’s face. “The nobleman carried enough jewels and money with him that we can spare you some for your silence.” His gaze locked with Gavin. “Will you accept?”
“This is the best offer I’ve had all day. Unfortunately I can’t abide by the words of men without honor.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “You would dare insult me when you and your man are outnumbered? I once lived by what you define as honor, but ‘tis a useless concept when you’re out here,” he waved at their surroundings. “I wanted to give you a fair bargain since we’re fighting men. But since you’re determined to live by your precious honor, you’ll see first hand how little it’ll help when you gasp for your last breath.”
He pointed his sword at them. “Attack, men!”
But instead of his men running forward to attack on his command, the other robbers continued to hesitate, watching the two knights as if they were dangerous, unpredictable animals.
“You cowards!” Thomas shouted. He shoved a foot at the man that stood nearest to his horse. “I said attack!”
The push lent the robber new courage, and he raised his sword, letting out a loud war cry. The energy of that roar spurred his peers into action.
Then with a bearing of recklessness abandon, they charged.
The air became alive with the sounds of grunts, yells, and of metal clashing against metal.
Gavin deflected one blow and then another, slashing, and sidestepping the attackers as if he was part of an intricate carol.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the squat man running at him from the side, his weapon held high over his head. Gavin turned just in time to face his attacker, plunging his sword into his gut.
The man’s unearthly scream caused his companions to stop and retreat.
The five remaining outlaws looked over at their lifeless companion on the ground, their shoulders heaving heavily from exertion, their mouths opened in disbelief and horror.
“Come,” Gavin said, his voice sounding calm. “Attack us, and we’ll hurtle you into hell after your friend.”
Thomas looked one last time at the dead robber before he tugged at his reins and forced his horse to turn and flee. His men, meanwhile, scattered among the trees.
Ulric made a move to go after the outlaws, but Gavin clasped his shoulder. “Let them go,” he said. “There is no point in going after them now.”
A sob sounded behind them.
Gavin turned and looked over at the nobleman.
Tears sprung from the man’s eyes. “Thank you, Sir…?”
“Sir Gavin the Bold,” Ulric answered for him.
The man nodded eagerly. “Thank you for helping me, Sir Gavin the Bold,” he said, his voice shaking with relief and gratitude. He brought a trembling hand to his forehead as if to assure himself that he really had escaped from death’s grip.
Gavin wiped his blood stained sword onto the snow. “You can thank me by honoring me with a favor,” he said.
“Anything!” the man said. “Just name your price. I can give you a flock of geese —”
“I don’t care for geese,” Gavin interrupted. He slipped his sword into his scabbard. “I overheard that you have three grown daughters. I will take one of them to wed.”
The lord’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Wed one of my daughters…?”
But before the nobleman could respond any further, a rumbling sound could be heard off in the distance, coming closer by the second.
All too soon, a troop of knights dressed in black and blue livery were upon them.
“There is Lord Cedwick!” a squire shouted, pointing to them.
“Sires!” the commander’s voice rang out. He abruptly stopped his horse, his eyes focusing on Gavin and Ulric. He drew his sword. “You shall pay for attacking our lord.”
Lord Cedwick held up a hand to stop his commander from continuing. “‘Tis all right, Sir Etienne.” He got up from the ground, and dusted the snow off his fur lined coat. “These were not the men who attacked me.”
Sir Etienne eyed Gavin and Ulric and then at the two dead men on the ground before turning to his lord. “The squire said that you were attacked by outlaws, my lord. We came as fast as we could.” His eyebrows knitted and his mouth curved into a frown. “If these men are not those who attacked you, then what has happened here?”
“We saved his hide, is what happened,” Ulric said.
Sir Etienne looked over at them, a puzzled expression still on his face. “Who are —?”
But before he could finish his question, Lord Cedwick said with a slight quiver in his voice, “I want to go home.”
Sir Etienne looked once more at the lifeless men, one hand stroking his beard. Then he shook his head, not bothering to question his lord’s authority. “Sir John, go fetch a man with a cart and clean up this mess,” he said to a guard on his right.
Then turning to the nobleman, he said, “‘Tis lucky that you were not far from the castle, my lord.”
Lord Cedwick drew in a shaky breath. “I had only planned to go visit my brother in the next shire. I didn’t think I needed a full entourage.” He grimaced when he noticed some more dirt on his woolen coat. “I will not make that mistake again,” he said, his voice now sounding firmer. “Let us leave this awful place.”
When the lord straightened up again, he no longer resembled the cowering man that lay on the ground minutes ago, pleading for his life. In fact, he seemed quite eager to get away and forget the entire incident.
“I shall come for what is owed to me,” Gavin said, reminding him.
The nobleman waved a hand at him.
But whether the lord waved to acknowledge his words or not, Gavin wasn’t sure. The nobleman climbed onto a spare courser that his men provided, and without another look, they rode swiftly past them.