“Why didn’t you just apologize?”
Keller gave him an impatient expression. “I did,” he said. “It was not enough.”
William fought off a grin. For a man who was as uncertain with women as Keller was, the reality of an angry wife must have been torture. “Then you had better get all of it,” he said, pointing to the jewelry. “I would leave nothing to chance.”
Keller took his advice. He bought everything the man had, a purchase which came to a staggering amount – 10￡ for the big necklace, 4￡ for the garnet and pearl necklace, and 4￡ 10p for the emerald and pearl necklace. Each ring cost him 2￡, and he bought all four – a garnet, a ruby, a blue sapphire, and an emerald. The merchant also threw in three scarves made from a fabric called albatross, a very fine fabric from France, and an alabaster phial of perfumed oil that smelled of roses and lavender spikes.
The last purchase he made was something called a “splash” or “waters” (used interchangeably, Keller found) that were fragranced waters distilled with a mixture of water, wine, and herbs that were used for bathing or cleansing the face. The merchant happened to have a corked gourd containing “splash” that had come from Ireland, fragranced with lavender, sage, and clove. It smelled earthy and strong, so he purchased it as well.
Keller ended up paying the man eight gold crowns for his purchases which was, as he had said, the most money the old man had ever seen at once. It was a small fortune. But to Keller, it was worth every last pence as a peace offering to his wife. The jewelry, the “splash”, and the perfume, wrapped up in the scarves, went in Keller’s saddlebag and he was looking rather eagerly to the returning home to presenting Chrystobel with such beautiful gifts. Keller recollected that she had mentioned that Gryffyn, being the heir, believed any excess funds should be spent on him, meaning Chrystobel and Izlyn more than likely never received anything other than basic necessities. He was very happy to be able to provide them with something that wasn’t a necessity.
As he pondered that thought and prepared to mount his charger, something swift and deadly passed over his head, sailed between the two men-at-arms behind him, and hit an innocent peasant standing across the road. The knights turned swiftly to see that the man had been struck by an arrow. It had come from the south, behind the merchant stalls.
There was instant chaos in the air. As the peasant fell to the road and the man’s wife began to scream, men came hurling out from between the merchant stalls with weapons raised. Keller had to duck to avoid being decapitated as he unsheathed his broadsword. Using a massive fist, he plowed it into the face of the man who had aimed for his head and, with blood spurting in all directions from a broken nose, shoved the man to the ground next to his horse. Keller’s charger, smelling a fight, finished off the man with his heavy, sharp hooves to the head and chest.
Men were screaming in all directions and the fight was bad from the onset. William had been ambushed by two men and had managed to dispatch one, now in a nasty sword fight with the other. His opponent had an old double-headed battle axe, still quite viable, and he was swinging it with some power at William’s head while the knight mostly stayed out of his way. The battle axe was a heavier weapon but the sword had more range, so it was only a matter of time until William saw an opening and plunged his blade into the man’s ribcage. With both opponents down, he went to help the men-at-arms who were swarmed by fast-moving Welsh and their smaller, but just as deadly, weapons.
Rhys, too, had been attacked by two men at a time but in his case, it had been a foolish tactic by his opponents. Rhys was a rarity in that he fought with dual blades, custom-made broadswords that he carried in a double sheath strapped to his back, so when he was attacked by two men, the dual blades flew into action and in little time he’d had both men put down. Then he went to help Aimery, who had been caught by a spear in the thigh, creating a bright red stream of blood down his left leg. When Rhys leapt into the fight with the dual blades flying, both of Aimery’s antagonists wisely fled.
The fight was short but vicious, and in little time, the Welsh were fleeing back into the village, disappearing behind huts or running down alleyways. Keller’s men went to chase them but he called them off. It was more important that they return to the safety of Nether rather than try to pursue rebels who knew the land, and hiding places, better than they did. Therefore, the knights mounted swiftly and encouraged the men-at-arms to do the same.
“Return to Nether!” Keller commanded. “Go!”
Men began to scramble and spur their horses back the way they had come. Mud and dirt kicked up, hitting walls and individuals as the horses struggled for traction on the wet road, but soon the group was thundering out of town, racing past St. Peter’s church in their haste to get clear of the village.
The road to the east was carved into the side of a sheer, rocky mountain, giving them a good view of the lands below. The mist had turned to rain by the time they hit the open road, however, blurring their vision as they went. As they ran, the knights turned their attention to the town and any sign of the enemy laying chase, but that vision never materialized. Even so, Keller saw no need to let his guard down. He would be in defensive mode all the way home.
They were, after all, in enemy territory. The attack simply reminded them of the fact.
Chapter Fifteen
“And you are surprised that you were attacked by Welsh?” Gart asked. “Surely you expected it, Keller. But what I find interesting is that they found you in that town, at that point in time, and they were fully armed. Rebel militia doesn’t usually hang around in villages and especially small villages where their activities cannot be camouflaged.”
Keller and the party from Machynlleth were in the great bailey of Nether, having raced the entire way back to the castle in the driving rain. The horses were exhausted, as were the men, and Aimery was dealing with a rather nasty puncture wound on his thigh that would require stitches. Keller watched Aimery very gingerly dismount his charger.
“Then they must have been following us, although I did not see signs of that,” he told Gart. “We managed to kill at least six of them and the rest fled.”
Gart eyed Rhys as the man joined their conference. “I suppose the dual blades had flesh for supper this day,” he said to the man.
Rhys lifted his dark eyebrows. “All that and more,” he said. “It was an excellent fight but not nearly long enough. I barely had time to warm to it.”