Heart of a Knight (A Medieval Romance Novella)

by Dana D'Angelo

  “Well, I hope lady fortune is in on your side, because you have no chance of freeing him on your own.” Alays looked at the wooden table and frowned. “The morning is half gone, and I still need to finish my chores.”

  Karina absently watched as Alays left them to put away the uneaten food. Eli was right. She couldn’t allow Geoffrey to suffer in this way, especially when she owed it to him as well. In more ways than one, Geoffrey had come to her rescue; his presence in her home had deterred Warin from harassing her. And not counting Sewallus, he also scared off the money hungry suitors that usually called on her.

  Eli stared at the dirt floor, his thin shoulders hunched. But his head jerked up when he noticed Karina moving toward the entrance again. A hopeful expression lit his face. “Do you mean to go to Geoffrey, ma dame?”

  “Aye, we need to see if he’s all right.” She took a deep breath. “’Tis the least that we can do.”

  ***

  When they arrived at the town square, they discovered a large crowd gathered there. Normally people used the square to cut across the town, but now that a pillory was set up, they were drawn to the commotion.

  Karina felt her stomach churn as she was now uncertain whether she was doing the right thing. But she forced her feet to continue forward. Eli, on the other hand, had no reservations about helping the stable master. He broke into a run and chased away the boys who pelted debris at the pillory. When they saw Eli charging at them, they scattered away like startled crows.

  There were still many people gathered around the pillory, although she hoped that they would tire of their sport soon, and leave Geoffrey alone. As things stood right now, she couldn’t assess how she could help him.

  She slipped quietly into the group, trying to make her way to the front. Eli proved to be a distraction for the townspeople, and Karina was almost certain that no one would notice her. Unfortunately she was wrong. A movement caught the side of her eye, and before she could react, a hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Mistress Karina?”

  She tugged at her arm, glaring at the owner of the hand. “Release me!” The tailor’s son stared back at her. A mop of brown hair fell over his eyes, which almost but not quite hid the disapproval there.

  “That man,” he jerked his head at Geoffrey, “is a murderer, and you should not be associating yourself with him.”

  “I don’t care for your boldness, Julian,” she said coldly. “One would think that your mother hasn’t taught you any manners.”

  Julian jerked his hand from her arm as if an insect had stung him. “This is the thanks I get for trying to save you from tarnishing your reputation?” he whined.

  “You already tarnished it by accusing me of flirting with the male customers who buy my candles,” she said, the old anger twisting in her belly.

  He flushed. “’Twas a misunderstanding, Mistress Karina. I already told you that. My intent was to protect you from those vultures.”

  “I need no protection,” she said haughtily. “Besides, if I did need assistance, Sewallus is always on hand to help me.”

  “Sewallus is a weak fool,” he said. “He has no power to protect you from his father. Everyone knows that.” He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and looked at her earnestly. “Things would have been different if you were married to me. I would never have hired that man to work the stables. My father —”

  “I don’t care to hear you speak about my friend or my stable master like this,” Karina cut in. “Both Sewallus and Geoffrey are good men.”

  “Oh, they’re good men all right,” he said sarcastically. “So good that one grovels at his father’s feet, and the other kills a man in cold blood.”

  She frowned fiercely at him. “You can believe what you want, Julian,” she said, pushing past him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  When the tailor’s son made no attempt to follow her, she let out a rush of air from her lungs. His words infuriated her, and she didn’t know what she would say or do if he continued to bait her.

  But as she got closer to the front of the crowd, she saw Geoffrey, and her heart almost broke. The pillory was placed in the center of the square where it was visible at all angles. The hinged wooden boards were graying with age, although most of that gray was covered with splatters of mud, rotten vegetation and animal dung. Geoffrey’s head and hands were placed through the holes in the board, forcing him to be bent at an awful position. The cruelty of it hit her in the gut. Without proof of his innocence, the townspeople had already condemned him.

  Her attention was drawn to a cluster of boys who were whipping rotted food at both Geoffrey and Eli. And even though her stable boy stood defiantly facing the tormentors, they were no longer deterred by his presence. A rotten beet sailed through the air and hit him on the cheek, leaving a wet, blood-red stain on his skin.

  “Who threw that?” Eli shouted, his shrill voice filling the air. Not waiting for an answer, he searched the ground, and found a partially decayed apple. Scooping it up in his hand, he hurled it back at the group of boys. The rotten apple smashed onto a boy’s head, and he howled furiously. The stocky youth broke away from his friends and launched himself at Eli. The townspeople quickly gathered around the two boys, cheering and egging them on. And when the young opponents were rolling in the ground, pummeling their fists into each other, the people shouted harder and louder. Karina pushed her way through the mass.

  “Stop it,” she cried. “You’re hurting my stable boy!” She looked around at the circle of people and spied Sewallus in the sidelines. Running over to him, she pulled at his arm.

  “Please, Sewallus,” she begged, gesturing helplessly at the two boys locked in combat. “Get him off Eli.”

  Sewallus released a long-suffering sigh and moved closer to the fighting boys. For a moment, he hung back as if he waited for the right opportunity to jump in. Then when Karina thought he would never act, Sewallus thrust his hands in, grabbing the attacker by the collar. The older boy bellowed. He squirmed, kicked and punched at Sewallus, attempting to make physical contact at every turn.

  “Sewallus!” a voice barked from the crowd.

  All of a sudden the guild master’s son dropped the boy to the ground. He turned his startled gaze over to the direction of the voice, finding his father glaring at him.

  “I can’t help you any longer,” Sewallus muttered to Karina before walking quickly away.

  The older boy threw a dirty look at Sewallus’ retreating back while he brushed himself off the ground. Then remembering that he had another enemy, he spun around and spat near Eli’s feet.

  “You’re lucky that I didn’t finish you off,” he snarled. He would have said more except his friends called for him. He spat once more at Eli’s direction before running to join with his troop.

  Karina let out a long sigh of relief. Now that the boys had stopped fighting, the crowd was starting to disperse. Unfortunately her relief was short-lived when she got a clear view of the pillory.

  Geoffrey looked up from the ground as if he sensed her presence.

  “Oh, Geoffrey,” her heart sank. Dried blood and debris were streaked across his ruggedly handsome face. “What have they done to you?”

  Chapter 10

  “I’m not leaving again,” Eli declared loudly. He grabbed at the thick cords that wrapped around the wooden contraption and tugged uselessly at it. “Geoffrey doesn’t deserve this.” He picked up a rotten fruit at the base of the pillory and threw it at the direction of the houses. “I should’ve come earlier. I could’ve stopped those bastards from throwing rubbish at him.”

  Karina sighed. “There’s not much you or I could have done.” She had sent Eli back to the house to fetch a tankard of ale, cloth and a basin of water. Once again, she found herself wiping at Geoffrey’s face. She wrung the cloth, allowing the water to drip to the ground before holding it awkwardly in her hand. Glancing up at the sky, she noted that it had taken on an orange-re
d hue. “We must leave this place before curfew starts.”

  “I can’t leave Geoffrey like this.” He crossed his arms over his thin chest and jutted out his chin. “He saved my life, remember?”

  “Go with ma dame, Eli,” Geoffrey said tiredly. “I’ll be fine here.”

  “Nay,” Eli said, shaking his head.

  She saw that the stable boy would not budge, so she allowed him to stay with Geoffrey. It was getting late, and she knew that the town gates would lock soon. It wasn’t wise to be caught wandering the streets at curfew.

  Karina crossed the square and walked along a side street. The guards weren’t out patrolling the town just yet, but the drunken patrons from the taverns and ale houses would soon stumble out of the establishments. A lone woman, no matter how respectable, would prove too tempting for them. She shuddered at that last thought and quickened her steps.

  She was just about to walk past a house when a sudden hissing sound caught her attention. Cocking her head, she listened. There it was again.

  In the shadow of two houses, she saw a man beckoning to her. Under normal circumstances, she would have fled, however she paused when she took in the purple and black colors of his attire. No one had the right to wear those colors, not unless they represented the king.

  “Come here,” the man hissed.

  She complied even though she felt as if she was headed for the gallows.

  When she was an arm’s length away, the man grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her into the alley. Leaning past her, he looked left and right.

  “You could have moved a little faster,” he muttered under his breath.

  Karina’s eyes went down the length of him, and settled on the king’s insignia embroidered boldly on his chest. What did the king’s guard want with her?

  “I certainly hope you’re not the village idiot.” The man sighed when he received no response from her. “Because that would be our worst luck.”

  “Nay, I’m not the village idiot,” she said slowly. “I don’t understand what ‘tis you want from me. I’m just a candlemaker.” She paused and stared at the sword that hung at the knight’s belt. It was still in its scabbard, and even though she had never seen a sword up close, this particular one looked frightfully big and dangerous. Taking a cautious step back, she tried to suppress the ball of fear that formed at the base of her throat. “Unless you want candles, I cannot be of much use to you.”

  The guard waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss her words. “We need use of your home,” he replied impatiently. Again, he looked beyond as if he searched for someone or something.

  “We?” Karina’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see anyone else around.

  “Aye,” he said, his dark eyes settling back onto her. “Princess Lilia is waiting nearby. Your cooperation is required.”

  “Princess Lilia?” What was the princess doing in Treville?

  “That’s right,” the guard said, his voice sounding clipped. He narrowed his eyes at her as if he wondered whether she was the village idiot after all. But he just shook his head, and then made a silent gesture in the air. Moments later, a second guard and a small, cloaked figure appeared. They walked swiftly to where she and the guard stood.

  “Lead the way,” the older man said gruffly. The red-haired man was large, towering over the small figure at his side. In the fading light, Karina saw that he too wore the royal colors, although there were dark splatters of blood and dirt on his clothing.

  They desperately needed her help, Karina realized. She licked her lips which had suddenly felt dry. Here was her opportunity to free Geoffrey from sure death. If she helped the princess, then surely a request for clemency would be granted in return.

  Squaring her shoulders, she spoke up before she lost her nerve, “I’ll gladly lead you to my home, sire, however I have one request, a boon from the princess.”

  The younger guard looked at her incredulously, his expressions a mixture of disbelief and irritation.

  Karina carefully observed the princess. Seeing no indication of a refusal, she pushed for the advantage. Pointing to the town square, she said, “There’s a man in the pillory over there, an innocent man. I ask that you find it within your heart to release him, my princess.”

  The small, hooded figure turned to where she pointed. There in full view was Geoffrey. He stood at an uncomfortable angle with his head and hands trapped in the pre-made holes. In front of the structure, Eli lay sleeping on the ground as if he was a loyal hound. The princess turned to her again. There was a long pause, and Karina began to feel a cold sweat running down her back. Did she cross the line with her request?

  “Release him, Sir Bram,” Lilia said finally.

  The younger knight bowed and went to do her bidding.

  “Thank you, my princess.” Karina curtsied before the figure. She let out a quick breath of relief. It was a risk to ask the princess for help, but somehow she managed to win this gamble.

  Chapter 11

  The cool night air was a welcome relief. Geoffrey looked up and saw the pale, silvery face of the moon. It bathed the entire courtyard in a soft glow, making the dirt town square seem almost ethereal. After hours of feeling the intense sun on his back, and having sweat drip continuously down his body, he could finally think clearly. It helped that Karina had arrived to clean his wound, and to offer him a drink of ale. He licked his cracked lips, wishing that he had more ale to drink.

  Dropping his gaze, he pulled back a bit to allow his chin to rest on the bottom of the wooden opening. During the first hour, his hip and leg throbbed as if someone beat frantically at it. No amount of teeth gritting on his part was able to take away the pain. Unfortunately the ache intensified in the second hour that he stood in his prison.

  He had the worst luck in the world, and was resigned with the knowledge that lady fortune had left him to his own devices. First, his dream of becoming a celebrated knight abruptly ended, and now he would go on trial for a murder in which he didn’t commit. Geoffrey knew that they planned to take him to Baltroham. And although he wished to go to the palace, he didn’t want to arrive there with his hands and feet tied together. He could imagine Pyers’ laughter echoing in his head. Instead of facing the bastard he would face death. No one here would contact his family and appeal for his life before the royal warden. No one cared whether he lived or died.

  At that moment, his future seemed so bleak, and he welcomed death to take him, to end his misery. It was while contemplating this that he lost consciousness. The pain suddenly faded, and he floated outside of his body, watching the people mocking and throwing rubbish at him. Strangely enough, he felt none of their viciousness.

  From far away, he heard the guild master speaking with Sewallus about his plan to leave Geoffrey in the wooden prison for a few more days. Usually a man held in the pillory was placed there for only a few hours. But Warin seemed intent on eliciting as much agony in him as possible before releasing him to the royal warden.

  When the townspeople finally left, and when Karina arrived to soothe him, he slowly regained consciousness. And unfortunately the irritating pain at the side of his hip and leg returned with a vengeance.

  “Karina,” he said the name almost as if it were a sigh. It was better to think of her rather than his current situation. She was like no woman he had ever encountered. She saw past his disability, and glimpsed at the man underneath. And not once had she turned away in disgust.

  He shook his head in wonder. In all actuality, he should be making preparations to leave Treville, since the blacksmith was almost finished hammering out his chain mail suit. Yet, for some reason, he felt compelled to stay and help out Karina. And while he involved himself in her dilemma, it turned out that it was he who needed the assistance. Letting out a weary sigh, he stared at the ground in front of him. He supposed that the guild master’s wrath was better directed at him rather than at the vulnerable widow.

  A soft snore drew his attention to t
he boy lying on the ground. Karina had left several hours ago, and all was calm. But Geoffrey knew that things would change soon enough. When the sun came up, the people would arrive at the town square to jeer and humiliate him anew. He didn’t blame them for acting this way; this was just how things were. After all, they believed that he, a stranger in town, had killed one of their own.

  A shadow fell over his head. He looked up and saw the silhouette of a man. Squinting, he tried to see past the darkness. At first he thought it was Warin who had returned to finish him off. But this man’s frame was trim and muscular. There was also the light clink of chain mail whenever the man shifted. And Geoffrey understood at once that this was not an ordinary citizen. How did the guild master dispatch a guard so soon?

  “What do you want?” he growled, although his throat felt as if it was filled with gravel.

  “I wasn’t sure if ‘twas you until you spoke,” the man said.

  “Who are you?” Geoffrey looked sharply at the guard. The voice seemed strangely familiar.

  “I should hope you haven’t forgotten about me, Geoffrey. We spent enough time in the barracks together.”

  The man moved to the side, and the moonlight fell on his visage. Geoffrey’s heart went still. “Bram?”

  “Ah, so you do remember me.”

  “What are you doing here?” Geoffrey’s eyes fell onto the royal garb that Bram wore. “Have you come to take me to the royal warden?”

  “Nay, why would I do that?” He looked at Geoffrey, puzzlement reflected on his face. “I have come to release you. The woman candlemaker pleaded for your release before agreeing to help the princess.”

  Karina, he thought. And a tiny surge of pleasure coursed through him. This was her doing. But the pleasure was short-lived as he considered the man standing in front of him.

  “You’re a part of the royal guards now,” Geoffrey said, looking almost wistfully at the insignia on his friend’s surcoat. Had it not been for Pyers, Geoffrey would likely be wearing that standard on his own chest.