A Knight's Tale: Kenilworth

by Gabriella West

  A mixed bag, then. We traveled west to Odiham Castle in Hampshire the next day, somewhat rested from the battle. Earl Simon stayed behind to pursue the negotiations, but Henry and Simon were eager to reunite with their mother, who was staying there.

  Tom was subdued. We’d been informed that we were going to become knights at Odiham, finally, and he felt he had not acquitted himself well in the battle. In fact, he’d nearly died.

  As we rode along together in our mail, sweat-stained and sore, I thought about what had happened. It had been my brief moment of glory. In that initial heavy fighting with Lord Edward’s troops after we swept down from the top of the Downs, Thomas had got separated from Henry. I’d looked up to see a huge knight knocking him off his horse. On the ground, stunned, surrounded by the clashing sounds of swords and the grunts and cries of fighting men, Thomas’s eyes were dark with terror. I could not hear the words as I dashed over, but it looked like he was begging for his life.

  The knight stood over him, sword in hand, enjoying the spectacle of this young man pleading below him. He’d placed one foot on Thomas’s neck. Thomas later told me he’d cried to the man, “I’m not yet a knight, I’m a squire!” It was traditionally seen as shameful to kill a squire, but the man, whose surcoat was flecked with blood, looked like he was about to. His visor was down. I could not see his face.

  “Stop!” I yelled, getting his attention. He glanced up, clearly in shock as he saw my dagger winging through the air towards his neck. The neck was an exposed place, I knew, a place where the chain mail was stretched. A sharp dagger or lance would pierce it. That’s what I was counting on, and the knight staggered back.

  And then Simon, galloping up from behind, neatly bashed him over the head with his mace, which made him keel over and fall prone into the long grass. Was he dead? We didn’t know because there was no time to check him, and Simon and I pulled Thomas up and rehorsed him. But it was me that he embraced later as we helped each other remove our armor. “Thank you, Will! You saved me.” His eyes were full of tears, and he told me that he’d had to prepare to die in those terrifying moments.

  “I wasn’t ready,” he said, ashen-faced. “But it could all end, like that!”

  “It was Simon too, you know,” I said.

  “Well, if you hadn’t stalled him, Simon would have come too late.”

  I knew little about Odiham, and Tom and I were too tired, and it was too dark, when we arrived, to notice much. It was all a blur after that. A feast ensued, where Lady Eleanor toasted her sons and the assembled knights, but we merely drank water and ate bread in preparation for the ritual. Tom and I were led to a chamber where we were supposed to pray all night, but Henry knew that we exhausted, so he told us gently that we should do our best. We both lay sleeplessly on our pallets, though, watching the candle burn. Finally, Tom got up to pray, kneeling by his pallet, his face hidden. I followed suit, wondering as I closed my eyes what I should pray for.

  As the candle flickered in the cool air, it came to me that I should pray to faithfully serve the two men I loved most as best I could. And if it seemed odd that erotic images flooded me during those quiet hours of vigil, I allowed them to play on my mind. Simon’s embrace was easy to recall, though we had enjoyed only one more quick coupling after the first time in the practice room at Kenilworth. He had come to my chamber in secret and I had not liked that, but the fervent, passionate way he had taken me had overcome my reservations.

  I remembered Stephen too, though, even more so as the night hours slowly crept towards dawn. He would hear about the battle of Lewes and wonder how it had gone for me. He would be expecting me any day now. How would that work? How could I possibly get away? I knew that I had to follow through on my plan to rescue him, and I prayed for the strength to do it. It was easier to be a follower and not strike out for yourself, that was certain, and to go off in search of Stephen was to leave Simon behind, which was the last thing I wanted to do, or rather, the last thing my body wanted to do. But the mind was stronger. Wasn’t it our minds that Earl Simon had marshaled at the top of the Downs, I thought. I would never forget that. His speech had convinced us that we fought for right, that God was with us, and that we would win. Because he so firmly believed it.

  I looked over at Thomas and saw that he was sleeping, his head rested in his arms. Tumbling back onto the pallet, I rested my head in my arms as well. Surely we would both wake before anyone came for us?

  In the end, yawning, we dressed in the loose, clean clothing that they had given us and walked bareheaded and unarmed to the chapel, where we knelt in front of Henry and Simon, both holding long, heavy swords. Hugh Despenser stood to the side, a proud smile on his narrow face.

  Tom repeated a jumble of words to Henry that he had obviously learned by heart. It was the Oath of Fealty to their lord that all prospective knights were supposed to say. I desperately tried to memorize them. Henry laid the flat of the sword gently on his shoulder. Henry then called out, “Arise, sir knight,” a faint smile on his face. The minute Tom rose, shakily, Sir Hugh boxed his ears from the other side so that he almost tumbled against me. I glanced at Simon but he nodded, as if to say, yes, this is part of the ritual.

  I slowly repeated the words I had heard Tom say, trying not to gaze too deeply into Simon’s eyes, but I could get lost in them, and the way he was looking at me, tender, almost adoring, made my heart stutter. Oh God, I want you, I thought, but instead uttered the Oath of Fealty. “I promise upon my faith that I will in the future be faithful to you, my lord, never cause you harm, and will observe my homage to you completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit.”

  Simon dubbed me. “Arise, Sir William,” he said with a smile, and as I was returning his smile Hugh Despenser gave me a terrific blow on the side of the face, causing me to fall at Simon’s feet. He picked me up and held me at arm’s length for a moment.

  “I remember Edward knighting me,” he murmured. “Do you feel different?”

  Henry was laughing with Hugh Despenser and Thomas about ten feet away, and all I could feel as I looked into Simon’s eyes was desire.

  “Come, brother!” Henry called.

  “I would kneel before you again now if I could,” I said rapidly to Simon, wondering if I could make him blush. He didn’t.

  “I’d rather kneel before you,” he dared to say, and I flushed crimson. Henry was upon us now, pulling Simon aside, a look of consternation in his face. “What are you about? These boys need to eat. Thomas can barely stand.”

  That morning, Thomas and I were both dazed, but I wore a foolish smile on my face that everyone interpreted as simply my pride in becoming a knight.

  After breakfast, we would all make for Kenilworth. Odiham was too small for our big party. Thomas was clearly anxious to see Christiana again. My own thoughts circled around my exploits in the battle, where at least I had not disgraced myself, and my next encounter with Simon, which I eagerly awaited. Even if he had not hinted at it, I had seen in his eyes that he did, too.

  ***

  There was a manor that we rested at that night, the knights all sprawled together in front of the hearth. We were almost back to Kenilworth the next day, making good speed, when we overtook a column of black-caped, tonsured men plodding along on exhausted horses. There could not have been more of a difference between our jauntiness and their dispirited looks. I searched their faces. Stephen was not there.

  “They’re Dominicans,” said Thomas, stating the obvious, nudging me.

  I watched Simon speaking to the elderly man on the first horse. I watched his face change, tighten up.

  He rode towards me slowly. I glanced at Thomas, who shrugged.

  “Looks like bad news,” he said, almost flippantly.

  My heart was pounding.

  “They’re friars from the Oxford house,” Simon told me. “They’re making their way to Leicester, where there’s another big house that my father founded years ago. I’m afraid they were hit with an outbreak of sm
allpox at Oxford. These were the only men who survived.”

  I nearly stopped breathing. My blood pounded in my ears.

  “Or so the friar said. You could enquire further. Ride hard and catch up with us.” He laid his hand on my arm briefly.

  “I’ll stay with Will,” Thomas said.

  I nodded, looking into Simon’s eyes. They were unreadable.

  He wheeled around and galloped off.

  I approached the group of men, who had paused. The white robes under their black capes had turned dirty-grey from the dust.

  “Good day. I am Sir William Talbot. What happened to Brother Anselm?” I asked one fellow with a friendlier face than the rest.

  “Dead, may his soul rest in peace.” He crossed himself.

  “And the young man who worked with him, Stephen?”

  The friar paused. “The clerk? We didn’t tell Sir Simon about him because he’s not counted as one of us, really. Well, in truth we had to leave him behind. He was very ill when we left him. We couldn’t take him. We were ordered to leave, you see, by the town authorities...”

  There was an uneasy silence.

  “How could you?” I snapped. “How long has he been ill?”

  Nobody answered. I could hear the snorts of the horses, the swishing of their tails.

  “We’ve only been gone a day,” one man volunteered. “We left bread and water with him.”

  “He told us to go, actually,” another man said. “He looked very bad...”

  Bastards, I thought. But I didn’t say it.

  “Where is Brother Michael?” I asked finally.

  “Brother Michael of Coventry? He’s dead,” the first man said. “We lost twenty men, Sir William. We’re all that’s left.”

  I nodded. “Godspeed to Leicester, then.” I wanted rid of them.

  “Thank you for your forbearance, sir. Good day to you,” the friar said quietly. They moved off slowly, as if in a daze.

  “I wonder how many of them are sickening now,” Thomas said at my elbow.

  I slid off my horse. Thomas dismounted too and we hugged roughly.

  My face was wet with tears.

  “It’s all right. Don’t give up,” Thomas murmured. “I’ll go with you to Oxford, if you want me to.”

  “Have you ever had smallpox?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, it’s too dangerous, then. I’ve had it. That means I won’t get it again.”

  All I could think was that Stephen might already be dead.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Will. Come back to the castle tonight anyway. You’ve had a hard day of riding.”

  I nodded, but I wanted to leave right then and there. It infuriated me that I couldn’t. I could see Stephen lying on a pallet, covered with pustules, dying. Alone.

  “We must catch up with them,” Thomas urged.

  I somehow got back on my horse and rode alongside Thomas back to the castle. I didn’t say a word on the journey. He didn’t either.

  ***

  By the time we returned, everyone was supping merrily in the Great Hall. I made eye contact with Simon and he walked over to me. The hubbub was high enough that our words were not audible to any but ourselves.

  “He’s still alive. They left him there,” I told him.

  “Oh, Christ,” Simon murmured. He paused for a long time, as if weighing the right course to take.

  “I will need to leave tomorrow morning,” I said bluntly.

  “Yes, of course. Take Wilecok with you. I know he’s not very charming, but he’ll get you there fast, and if you need any extra help, he’s good at those things.”

  Like digging a grave? I stared at him, wondering if that was what he meant.

  He put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Can you meet me upstairs in an hour? There’s a little chamber next to Christiana’s solar. We’d have privacy there.”

  I shrugged. “All right.”

  I had no appetite anyway. I went to my room, packed a few things. I was interrupted by Christiana knocking on my door, wanting to hear about Stephen, wanting to comfort me. The reassuring words felt good. I knew she cared about Stephen.

  “Do you pray, Christiana?” I asked her.

  “Of course. I pray to our Lady,” she responded.

  I wondered briefly whether she meant Mary, or an ancient Saxon goddess. Perhaps both. I assumed that, like me, she carried a mix of Norman and Saxon blood in her veins.

  “Will you pray for us?” I asked.

  “Of course. I don’t doubt that I’ll see the two of you again soon. The way you used to be.” She cast a fond glance at our pallets. “You were so sweet together once.”

  “Everything’s changed,” I said curtly. “Even if he survives, I doubt he’ll forgive me for what I’ve done.”

  She just shook her head. “In my experience, true love always forgives.”

  I didn’t answer. In my own experience, death had won out. I had had to let my father go at a very young age. I was lucky that I had not been left an orphan. Was God punishing me by afflicting Stephen with a terrible disease, by taking him away from me just as I became a knight?

  “At least Brother Michael is dead,” I muttered. She paled, looking at me.

  “He was an evil man, Christiana.”

  She nodded, still silent. Then she crossed herself.

  “I will pray for you,” she said at last. Her words sounded faint.

  We clasped hands. I had forgotten how soft a woman’s hand was. “Forgive my ill temper,” I told her. “At least you have Thomas back.”

  “Yes, and you saved him, I hear.” She kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Will. So thankful.”

  She slipped away. Once she had left, I looked around the chamber briefly. It no longer seemed mine, just a room I had shared with Stephen once. We would never again have the innocent love that we had had here. I knew it already.

  I plucked the old, dried-up pomander from the cedar chest. It still smelled faintly of cloves. I placed it in my bag, along with the scroll he’d given me.

  I had already decided that if Stephen was dead, I would not return to Kenilworth. And I felt almost certain that he would not survive.

  I did not really want to rendezvous with Simon either, I realized. But I walked slowly up the winding stair to the distant chamber where he had told me to meet him. It was easy enough to find it, once you were looking. The door was narrow. I pushed it open.

  “Bolt the door,” Simon said quietly. He was sitting at a sloping desk in what looked like a small library or study. He had changed clothes since he returned, and his fine scarlet tunic befitted an earl’s son, the son of a king’s daughter.

  I obeyed him.

  “This is my father’s library,” he said.

  I looked at the books in their thick calfskin bindings. The chamber smelled of dust and old parchment. I would have liked to explore here earlier, but nobody had ever showed me this room.

  “Stephen would have worked here, being a clerk,” he said.

  “Would Brother Michael have been in here too, with him?” I asked. When Simon just looked at me, I blurted out, “He’s dead.”

  “I see.” Simon eyed me closely. Then he said, “No, I don’t think Brother Michael would have been in here much.”

  There was an awkward silence. I just stood before him, because there was nowhere for me to sit.

  “This is a strange leave-taking,” he murmured. “I was so happy to knight you at last.”

  “I was happy then too,” I answered.

  “But it’s like this with us. I understand. All you can think of is him.”

  I breathed in and out slowly, trying to stay calm. “Yes. If someone you loved was dying, wouldn’t that be the case for you?”

  He seemed nervous. “There’s something I need to say.”

  I nodded.

  “When you come back with Stephen—because I believe you will bring him back with you—take him straight to Odiham. My mother should be the
re with her attendants. It’s more comfortable there, and you can recuperate. I expect to be gone a lot now. The fight is on, as you see. The Lord Edward and Henry of Almain have been taken to Wallingford Castle. Henry is guarding them for the moment.”

  “To Odiham,” I said softly.

  “Yes. We may not see each other for a long time. I don’t know. But what we’ve had together should end here. I’ll always protect you, and always care about you. You know that.”

  “Right. We’ve said it all, haven’t we?” My words came out blunt and harsh. “By the way, if he’s dead, I don’t intend coming back.”

  He paled, but his words were measured. “You would blame me for this?”

  “It seems terribly unfair to you, I suppose. And he would not want me to blame you, because he’s a good person.”

  Simon looked down at his hands. “It doesn’t seem unfair,” he whispered. “There’s something I haven’t told you, actually—but now’s not the time.”

  He felt guilty somehow. A prickle of unease hit me. I did not want to ponder this too long.

  “I blame myself too,” I added. “I could have gone to fetch him back long before, even it meant breaking with you and your family.”

  “Yet you swore an oath of allegiance to me just yesterday.” There was a faint smile on his lips.

  That was right, I had been knighted then. It seemed an age ago.

  “Yes.” I looked at him. “I’ve been loyal to you.”

  “You have.” He nodded. “That’s why I said, go to Odiham, rest. In time, when things are settled again, you’ll want to fight for us again, I’ll warrant.”

  “You and your father have many friends, many men to fight for you. I’m the only one that Stephen has got.”

  Since he said nothing, just looked at me with an odd, lost expression, I added, “I understand it’s over between us, Simon. It only seems strange you would say it now, when I’m at my lowest point.”