A Dishonorable Knight

Chapter 13

"Gareth," Bryant whispered as he gently shook his friend awake.

"Is there trouble?" Gareth asked, instantly alert.

"Not a sound, but I'm falling asleep on my feet. I hope I haven't woken you too soon."

Gareth looked at the position of the stars. "You were on watch a lot longer than you think. Now get some sleep."

Gareth stood and stretched his arms over his head. Carefully placing his feet with each step, he walked around the perimeter of their small camp, patting the horses reassuringly when he reached them. Circling back to where Elena had been sleeping, he panicked at the sight of her empty blanket. When he realized that she was only heading into a small clump of bushes by the stream, he resisted the urge to call her back. Surely there was nothing to worry about. Cynan had been right. No English soldier would be able to track them through this forest. And yet, some instinctive feeling had made him put the watch on tonight when a few weeks before they had all slept soundly within a few miles of the English border.

Elena returned a few minutes later but instead of moving to her bedroll, approached him and asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, fine."

"You don't sound terribly convinced."

"It's just that I have this feeling..."

"What sort of feeling?" Elena asked as she sat on the ground at his feet.

Gareth struggled to explain it. "Sometimes I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's like my insides are tied in a knot that grows tighter and tighter. My father used to call it my sense of doom because I was sure it meant something bad was about to happen."

"And did it?"

"Usually, no. But sometimes it was right and it saved my hide each time."

"When was the last time that happened."

"The day Richard's entourage was attacked."

Elena rubbed her arms and she quickly glanced around her, trying to peer into the dark of the forest. "What do you think is going to happen?" she whispered.

Gareth gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "Unfortunately, my stomach never tells me that." Sensing that Elena was frightened, he sat on his heels and said reassuringly, "Actually, I'm sure nothing is going to happen. In my whole life I've probably had this feeling a hundred times and it's been correct exactly twice. Since it worked last month, I'm not due for another right premonition for at least a couple of years."

Elena nodded her head and was about to speak when a horse whinnied far off in the woods. She jumped when Gareth put his hand over her mouth, but remained still, shaking slightly. He leaned close to her and for a moment, in that crazy way the brain has of conjuring abstract images, Gareth wished he could kiss her. Instead, he pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered faintly, "As quietly as possible, stand up and tie your skirts up so they won't be in the way. Then I want you to wake Bryant. Cynan always grunts and moans when he awakes so have Bryant put his hand over his mouth when you wake him. I'm going to get the horses."

He started to move away but Elena grabbed his arm frantically. In the darkness of the forest, her face was no more than a pale blur, but Gareth sensed her fear. Squeezing her hand reassuringly, he helped her to her feet.

Elena hitched her skirts to her knees and secured them as tightly as possible. Turning, she crept over to the nearest sleeping form. To her relief she saw that it was Bryant and she laid her hand on his chest, gently shaking him. His eyes opened immediately and when he saw her he sat up. Before he could speak she put her finger across her lips and whispered Gareth's instructions in his ear. Bryant nodded and quietly rolled to his feet. Elena quickly gathered up the blankets and rolled them into tight bundles. Turning, she discovered that Bryant had been able to awaken Cynan without so much as a peep. They all jumped when the crack of another twig was followed by the sound of bushes being brushed aside. Joining Gareth who had managed to saddle the horses, Cynan gestured behind them where they had heard the last noise. Gareth nodded as he took the blankets from Elena and strapped them to his saddle. He pointed in the direction of the stream and indicated that they should walk rather than ride. Cynan and Bryant took the reins of their horses and disappeared into the blackness of the trees.

Gareth put Isrid's reins in Elena's hands and whispered in her ear, "Follow Bryant and walk as quietly as possible." Elena was about to object but Gareth put his hand to her mouth and said, "I have to see if it is the English. We may be fleeing from a family of rabbits." With a quick kiss to her forehead, he turned and was gone. Elena tugged on Isrid's reins and set off after Bryant's horse, trying desperately to worry about her own safety rather than Gareth's. Low-hanging branches scratched her cheeks and caught at her hair but she simply gritted her teeth and pushed on, wincing at the rustle of leaves underfoot, terrified that whoever was behind them could surely hear her heart thumping in fear. They pushed on for what Elena felt must have been hours but was probably only a couple of minutes when a hand came out of the gloom and clamped itself over her mouth. She was about to struggle when the owner of the hand whispered, "It's me, Gareth." Nearly faint with relief, Elena allowed him to pull her along after him as he caught up to Cynan and Bryant.

"I didn't hear them say anything, but if they're not soldiers, I don't know who they are. There are at least a dozen of them and they're all heavily armed," he whispered.

"Do they know we're here?" Bryant asked, looking worriedly at Elena.

"I think not. They would have attacked right away if they knew we were here."

"How can you be sure they're even after us?" Elena asked.

"Twelve armed men roaming the Welsh forest in the middle of the night are not out for fun. They're looking for someone and I'd rather not take the chance that we're not just who they're looking for," Gareth explained.

"A man who rode into town just before we left said they were looking for a group of traitors," Cynan told Elena.

Elena's eyes widened. "The abbess told the English captain you were going to meet with Henry's supporters. That's why I came after you--to warn you. They must still be trying to catch you."

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Gareth asked.

"I did--you never paid attention to what I said," Elena shot back.

"Shh!" hissed Bryant as he cocked his head, trying to hear if they were being followed.

"We'd best split up," said Cynan. "If they have three trails to follow, it may confuse them enough to go home."

Gareth laughed shortly. "I wouldn't count on it."

Cynan's teeth gleamed white in the dark as he smiled broadly. "It's worth a try, isn't it?"

"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard," said Bryant in a harsh whisper. "And I've heard plenty of stupid ideas from you."

"He's right, Bryant," Gareth said. "If they have any sort of tracker with them, they'll be able to tell that there are four of us and that we're headed in the direction of Aberystwyth."

"In the middle of the night?" Bryant asked skeptically.

Before Gareth could respond, Cynan broke in, "Last I heard, Geraint Vaughan was seen around Dinas Mawddwy. He can track a rabbit through a rainstorm."

When Bryant said nothing, Gareth said, "We're only a day's ride from Aberystwyth. We'll meet there and warn the others the English are aware of our plans."

"I still don't think it's safe," argued Bryant.

"Nothing is safe when men are battling for a crown," Elena murmured to herself.

Cynan who overheard laughed softly and said, "True, but I'd wager it's much safer than if women were battling for it!"

"Nonsense, women would--"

Gareth put a hand over her mouth, his whole body tensed as he listened to twigs breaking and branches rustling. Gesturing to Cynan and Bryant to go in different directions, he took Elena's hand and led her to the south and west. Bryant started to object, but Cynan's hand on his arm stopped him and with one last glance at Elena, Bryant headed due west. Cynan waited one more moment before leading his horse toward the north.

***

Elena was practically asleep on her feet. It was all she could do to keep up with Gareth as she held onto the rope attached to Isrid's saddle that Gareth had given her so she wouldn't lose her way in the dark. It was now pitch black. The dark before the dawn, Elena thought. The moon had long since set and Elena could not even see her hand in front of her face. She had no idea how Gareth was able to lead them without hesitation through the dense forest.

The rope tugged in her hand. She had stopped without even realizing it. She tried to take a step forward, but her tired feet refused to budge and she fell in a heap on the soft padding of many years' accumulation of pine needles and moss. Though her cheek was pressed against the damp musty leaves and a rock was digging into her side, Elena thought she had never been so comfortable. I'll just rest here a few minutes, she thought, and then I'll catch up with Gareth.

"Elena, are you all right?" Gareth whispered urgently as he rolled her over.

Ah, she thought as she lay on her back, this is even more comfortable. Her eyes closed with no further urging.

"Elena!" Gareth said more loudly.

Dragging her eyes open, she tried to see Gareth's face. "I'm so tired, Gareth," she murmured.

"I know sweetheart, but we really have to keep moving. I have no idea if we're being followed or not."

Elena nodded and pushed herself up. She hadn't stood more than a second before her knees buckled and she started to sink to the ground again. Gareth caught her and swinging her up into his arms said, "I'll put you on Isrid. I can't believe I made you walk all this way. What an idiot I am. Cynan would box my ears if he knew how stupid I was..." He continued to mutter to himself, but Elena was too tired to try to understand what he was saying.

Gareth heaved her into the saddle and lay her against Isrid's neck. Gathering up the rope she had held onto, he lashed her to the horse so she would not fall off. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he took Isrid's reins and continued forging a path through the dark forest.

***

Gareth stopped in a sheltered glade and stretched his arms over his head, grimacing at the tightness in his back from so much walking. The sun had been up for almost an hour and he had neither heard nor seen signs that they were being followed. He prayed that Cynan and Bryant had gotten away safely and that their decision to split up had not been a foolish one. Gareth turned and scratched Isrid's ears. Would that the soldiers he had trained with this year past were as uncomplaining and dependable.

"A double portion of oats for you when we reach Aberystwyth if I have to sell my sword to get them," he promised Isrid who nudged his shoulder softly in return. Gareth's smile faded as he turned his attention to Elena who was still sound asleep, sprawled awkwardly over Isrid's back and neck. Brushing her tangled hair back from her face, he studied her pale features. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He carefully wiped it off, wondering not for the first time in the last few days at the change in her. She had ceased complaining, had not even shown fear when they were being pursued. She had, in fact, risked her life to warn them of Richard's soldiers. Cynically, Gareth tried to determine if she had anything to gain from her actions, but he could think of nothing. Why, then, the change? Baffled, he untied the rope that secured her to Isrid and gently lifted her down, laying her in the thick grass under a tall oak. Taking Isrid's saddle off, he rubbed the tired animal down and gave it what was left in the feed bag. With the sack of food the innkeeper's wife had given them in one hand, he stretched out beside Elena.

Elena stirred and slowly pushed herself up. "I'm starving," she said, her voice husky with sleep. Gareth offered her cheese and the last half loaf of bread. Elena took a large wedge of cheese and ripped the bread in half, handing Gareth his portion. They said nothing as they devoured the humble fare and drained the wine in the flask.

When the food and wine were gone, Elena leaned back against the tree and took a deep breath.

"That feels so much better," she said, patting her stomach and closing her eyes.

Gareth nodded, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, Elena sat up straight.

"What about those men? Are we being followed?"

Gareth shook his head. "I don't think so. We made pretty good time and I didn't hear anything other than an owl or two."

Elena relaxed back against the tree, her eyes on Gareth as he rolled up the empty food sack and stuffed it in the bundles tied to the saddle.

"How long can we rest here?" she asked. He had had but a few hours of sleep and could not possibly have the energy to continue much longer.

"Perhaps half an hour at best."

"How much further do we have to travel to reach Aberystwyth?"

"Four, maybe five hours," he said, his eyes closing drowsily.

Elena nodded. She watched Gareth loose the battle against sleep. He slumped down against the tree, his head cocked at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle, his brow furrowed as if even in sleep he was worrying about their safety. Of its own volition, Elena's hand reached out towards him. She jerked it back, but after staring at him a moment longer, she reached out again and eased him onto his side. Pulling a blanket from the saddle, she propped it under his head and smoothed his unruly hair.

Standing, she stretched her stiff muscles and hearing the faint sound of trickling water, foraged through the edge of the forest until she found a small spring. There was barely enough water to splash in, but Elena managed to wash her face and arms and drank the cool sweet water until her thirst abated.

She sat on the rocky bank and stripped off her shoes and threadbare stockings. Though the chill of the water made her inhale sharply, she soaked her feet in the cold water, relishing the quiet beauty of the forest. How odd, she considered, that she should feel so at peace here, in this glen, in this country. It was as if the fever she had suffered had burned away her earlier life, freeing her from the angst of living in the king’s court: the constant scheming and manipulating—and that just for the chance to wait on someone of higher rank, or to gain a more prestigious seat at the next feast. The relief of not trying to live down a disgrace, not worrying what others thought of her, was so great, she wondered if she could ever return to Richard’s court.

Elena drew her cold feet out of the water and stared unseeing at them. Had she changed so much in such a short amount of time? she wondered. Well had she played the calculated games of court life. She’d been proud of her knowledge, her ability to read people and manipulate them to better her own position. Would she not miss the stimulation of such daily calculation and risk? She searched her heart and mind. No. She would not.

True, there was the dreaded betrothal to the Earl of Brackley. Elena might have been able to wheedle her way out of it, but it had opened her eyes at just how little control over her own life she had had as a member of the king’s court. Here in Wales, she had seized her destiny, chosen her path. She had saved the lives of Gareth and his friends. She was no pawn in a larger game. The feeling was as frightening as it was invigorating.

Then, too, there was Gareth. Her feelings for him had rapidly evolved from scorn and hatred to…to…well something far more unsettling. Waking up in his arms, sharing powerful, drugging kisses with him had set her blood on fire, something she’d never encountered with her other, more “noble” suitors. And the thought of someone like Lord Edgeford risking his life for her was preposterous. Elena knew without a doubt that Gareth would die before allowing harm to come to her. It was a heady, utterly unfamiliar feeling to be so protected.

She had no idea what the future held, where she would end up after they reached Aberystwyth, but she would trust—at least for the time being—in the powerful attraction between her and Gareth.

Standing, Elena debated taking off her travel-stained gown and having a proper bath when a step behind her made her realize Gareth must be awake. Looking over her shoulder, her smile nearly turned to a scream. Behind her stood not Gareth but four men, soldiers no doubt, judging from their leather armor and weapons.

"What is your name?" asked one in English. Elena assumed he must be the leader. He was short and stocky, his iron-grey hair clipped unfashionably close against his head, his face furrowed with lines of wear and as tanned as old leather. Dear God, she thought. This is the man the abbess sent to find Gareth! Elena bowed her head, allowing her hair to fall over her face, pretending to humbly grovel to the captain. She glanced up at him to see if he recognized her.

His eyes were black and glittered sharply under bushy grey brows, but they gave no hints that he’d seen her before. "Where do you live?" he asked more harshly.

Elena said nothing, frantically trying to think of what to do, what explanation she could give for being here. Had they come across Gareth yet? No, they couldn't have. They had obviously approached her from the opposite direction.

The man barked his questions at her again, this time in hesitant Welsh.

Elena's thoughts raced through her mind frantically. If he thought she was Welsh, perhaps she could convince him that she and Gareth were not the people he was looking for. Assuming, of course, they even knew Gareth and his friends had an Englishwoman with them.

"Marared," Elena said improvising quickly. "I live in Gwynedd."

The captain stared at her keenly. Behind him the other two began making suggestive remarks under their breath, chuckling lewdly. Sweet Mary! Elena thought. What if this man is accustomed to turning prisoners over to his men?

That worry was cut short when the captain's head snapped around and he glared at his men for a long moment. The men sobered abruptly and he turned his attention back to her.

"What are you doing so far from Gwynedd alone and in the middle of nowhere?"

His stumbling Welsh gave Elena time to frantically think of a response. While he waited for her answer, he nodded to his men, instructing them to search the area. As soon as Elena saw one head in Gareth's direction, she knew what she must say.

"My husband and I are traveling to visit my family in South Wales."

The captain lifted a thick eyebrow. "Where is your husband?"

"He is napping just over there," she said pointing.

The captain called his men back. "I don't trust a woman and especially not a Welsh woman," he snapped. "Stick together in case they're armed."

Elena led the way back through the trees, making as much noise as possible to hopefully wake Gareth. When she finally reached him, she realized he must be more exhausted than she had thought. He had not moved an inch since she had laid him on the ground. Crossing to him, she gently shook him.

"Gruffydd," she called softly as he awoke with a start. "It's alright, it's only me, your wife Marared," she said, staring hard into his eyes hoping he would understand what she was trying to do. Gareth glanced over her shoulder and pushed himself hurriedly to his feet.

"Gruffydd," she said more loudly as she grabbed his hand and squeezed it meaningfully. "They mean no harm. They found me over at the stream and were worried that I was alone, I am sure. I explained that we were only resting on our way to--"

"Hush woman!" the captain shouted in English.

Elena ignored him long enough to say, "--Cardiff."

Gareth stared at Elena in confusion but snapped to attention when the captain said, "I suppose it's too much to hope you speak English."

"I--I speak a little, my lord."

"How nice," the captain said snidely. "Now suppose you tell me where you came from."

Elena stared at Gareth, willing him to give the answers she had already given, but he resisted the urge to look at her for confirmation.

"We live in Gwynedd."

"Yes, I know that. Your charming wife managed to babble that much to me," he said in a tone whose politeness was belied by the razor sharpness below it.

Elena could feel the relief course through Gareth. "We live in Bjaeneau Ffestiniog. We are traveling to--" Gareth paused and Elena prayed he would remember. "Cardiff in South Glamorgan."

"You wouldn't happen to be going by way of Aberystwyth, would you?"

"Aberystwyth? That's nowhere near Cardiff."

"I realize that. But--"

"Aberystwyth?" Elena asked, tugging on Gareth's arm. In rapid Welsh she continued, "Is there a fair on at Aberystwyth? You promised we would go, husband. Remember? When you made me miss the last one?"

Behind him, one of the soldiers laughed until the captain glared at him sharply. The soldier sobered instantly. The captain did not laugh or even smile. He merely scowled harder.

"There are a pack of traitors on the loose in these woods. Have you seen anyone in the last few days?"

"No, my lord. Although we did hear something in the brush last night. Weren't sure if it was man or beast, but it didn't bother us so we let it be."

"And where were you last night?"

"About two miles due north," Gareth lied.

The captain studied Gareth and Elena for several moments before turning away. He took a step and then turned back. "Gruffydd, was it?"

"Yes, my lord," Gareth said hesitantly.

"And your wife's name was...?"

Elena tugged impatiently on his sleeve and said in Welsh, "Are we going to stop and see Bryant's betrothed on our way, husband?"

"Another word from you and I'll have you bound and gagged," the captain shouted at Elena.

"My wife's name is Marared. I believe in English it is Margaret."

"Of course," said the captain. "Gruffydd, you and Marared had best watch yourselves. Traitors are at work in your country and they care not who they kill or maim. Why in Machynlleth, they murdered an honest innkeeper and his wife who had given them food and shelter during the rains." The captain turned away and Elena felt her stomach clench. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Gareth’s arm muscles tighten in rage as the soldiers mounted their horses and rode west.

When they were out of sight, Elena spoke. "They," she began. “They killed those people, didn't they? Those people who helped us."

Gareth nodded and because he didn't know what else to do, took her in his arms and held her tightly.

"But how could they have found out?"

"One of the villagers probably told them."

"But...I thought the Welsh always stood with each other against the English."

"Not always. As in any country, there are those who seek to gain the most from whoever is in power." And then, trying to distract her from the deaths of the innkeeper and his wife, "That was fast thinking, telling them we were wed and traveling to Cardiff. I doubt I could have done so well on such short notice."

"I was sure we wouldn't live to see another sunset," Elena said suddenly shaking uncontrollably from a belated case of nerves.

Remorse and guilt swamped Gareth. "I'm sorry my lady. Ever since you've been under my care, you've been in more danger than if you had tried to walk alone back to Middleham. I have needlessly risked your life time and again. You must think Wales the most bloodthirsty country on God's planet."

Elena lifted her head from his chest and stared at him perplexedly, her fear forgotten. With a small shake of her head she said, "On the contrary, I have never felt such a sense of home and belonging. I would not trade the last six weeks for the rest of my life."

"But sleeping on the road...you nearly died trying to warn us about the soldiers--"

"Do you jest? Compared to waiting on Lady Elizabeth hand and foot, I've had it easy."

Gareth smiled and peered closely at her face, "I say, what have you done with Lady de Vignon? Surely you are not the woman who said 'I cannot be expected to sleep rolled up in a blanket with three servants'."

The smile faded from Elena's face and she pulled out of Gareth's warm embrace.

"We had better continue to Aberystwyth."

Gareth stared at her back pensively before turning to gather up their belongings.