Darkest Knight

by Cynthia Luhrs

  “And who might your lord be?”

  “Lord Denby. He sent us after you and the wench.”

  “He’ll have to wait a little longer.” He flicked his gaze to her. “Duck.”

  She bit down on the hand covering her mouth. The man yelped and yanked his hand away, and Anna let all her weight fall. There was an odd-sounding thunk. When she turned around, Anna saw the knife sticking out of the man’s eye. That, combined with the four men on the ground, was more than her stomach could take. She leaned over, one hand holding her hair, the other braced on her knees as she heaved the contents of her stomach into the grass.

  “Anna, run.”

  A man dropped out of the tree. As John struck him down, she ran for the horses. She’d only gone a short distance when someone else grabbed her. Okra fudge! How many were there? Were they multiplying like rabbits?

  The blow struck her in the face, snapping her head back. A loud ringing filled her ears. Anna tasted blood. Her lip burned. She touched a finger to it. He had split her lip. She had never raised her hand against anyone. Squinting, she aimed for the side of his face, raking her nails down as hard as she could. The man howled and slugged her in the eye. She fell back, crying out in pain.

  The man sat on top of her, making it difficult to breathe.

  “I’ll at least have some fun with you before I kill you.”

  Anna sucked in as much breath as she could and screamed for all she was worth. “John!”

  He was there in an instant, his sword flashing down to take the man’s head off, when a voice rang out.

  “Put down the sword or she dies.”

  How he managed, Anna didn’t know, but the blade came to a stop a hair away from the man’s neck and stayed there, vibrating.

  A man strode forward. He motioned to his left. She counted three archers with arrows pointed at her. Another group of men rode into the clearing.

  John kept the sword at the man’s neck. He stood there, anger visible on his face and throughout the lines in his body.

  “Remove the blade.”

  John cursed but did so. The man in charge snarled at the man sitting on top of her.

  “Get off.”

  The man rolled off her. She yanked her dress down and sat up. He limped away, which made her happy. And he now had three long, nasty scratches down the side of his face. Her eye and lip felt hot to the touch. A black eye. She’d never had one. And a fat lip to match.

  “Get her up.”

  Two men dragged her to her feet. Others shoved John to his knees. There were too many for him to fight back. One of the men grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.

  “Watch.”

  A sick feeling ran through Anna. They held her as the leader strode forward.

  “I told you to remove your blade and you did not, swine.” The man had brown hair and a scar that made him look like he was sneering. He leaned in, his bad breath almost sending her to her knees.

  “Move and you die.”

  He raised a dagger, bringing it down at the back of her head. Her head jerked. When she felt the air on the back of her neck, she knew. He had cut her hair off.

  The strands floated away on the wind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John punch the man closest to him, swearing. She didn’t know what he said, but whenever he spoke in multiple languages, she knew he was cursing.

  “Take her,” the leader barked as he strode over and bonked John on the head with the hilt of his blade. He crumpled to the ground. The soldiers kicked and punched him. She saw him reaching out, trying to grab hold of something, but she couldn’t tell what. It was too hard to see from the tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Why must it always rain when he was locked in a cage? But this time John’s head rested not on hard wood but on something soft. He opened his eyes to see Anna looking down at him, concern on her face. His head rested in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.

  The wind blew and he could see the pale skin of her neck.

  “Can you ever forgive me?” he croaked out.

  “For what?”

  “I cannot keep you safe.” He reached up, touching the ragged ends. “Your beautiful hair. So many shades of color. Like sunlight and earth.”

  She reached a hand up, touching what remained. He saw the sorrow on her face.

  “I’ve always had long hair. Ever since I was a child.” She touched a finger to the strands, trying and failing to tuck it behind her ear. “I feel lighter somehow, though I bet my neck will be cold this winter.”

  “’Tis my fault.”

  “Why? You did nothing wrong. You saved me from those men. I hate to think what would’ve happened if I had been alone. It’s me who should be asking you for forgiveness. If we’d stayed at Blackmoor, none of this would have happened.”

  “Nay. They would have come for us there.”

  He touched her hair again. She looked even younger with it shorn off.

  “Don’t worry. It’s only hair. It’ll grow back.”

  He wanted to talk with her, but his head pained him terribly, and against his will, his eyes drifted shut.

  John woke, shivering and sneezing. Anna touched his forehead and then her own. He felt awfully warm to her.

  “I am well.”

  “You’re grumpy.”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat.

  “You know men make the worst patients. They’re always whining and complaining like they’re dying.”

  He cracked one eye open, scowling at her. “If you will not tend me, tell me about the snakes in Florida. To take my mind off my aching head.”

  She rubbed his shoulders as she talked. The motion of the wagon and the rain falling on them lulled her into a state between wakefulness and dreams.

  “In Florida there are several kinds of snakes. The poisonous ones are the cottonmouth and rattlesnakes. If they bite, you can die, but there’s an antidote. Then there are pythons and boa constrictors.” Even talking about them made Anna feel creepy crawly all over. “I hate them all. In my book the only good snake is a dead snake.”

  “I have seen a snake. Most folks say they are the devil’s familiar.”

  She totally agreed. “I can believe it. Pythons are not native to Florida. Someone brought them there and now they’re causing problems in the Everglades. Remember, the Everglades are the big area in Florida where very few people live. The snakes don’t have any predators there, so they have become the top predator. And they get really, really big. Bigger than people. They eat people, animals, and even alligators. Someday I wonder if they’ll take over the whole state and Florida will belong to the snakes.”

  “I am glad I am not in Florida. I do not think I would like snakes.”

  Something about the way he said it made her think of Dr. Seuss. The lines from Green Eggs and Ham ran through her mind. She kept replacing them with snakes and started to giggle hysterically.

  He cracked an eye open. “What is it you find humorous?”

  “I have to explain it to you some other time.” She waved a hand around.

  “Something from your future world?”

  “Yes. Would you like to hear a story?”

  She felt his forehead again. Was he warm or was it just her imagination? He looked awful. The soldiers had beaten the snot out of him. To get her mind off worrying, she told him a story from when she was little.

  “I like to hear you talk. The sound of your voice makes me feel like everything will be right in the world.”

  It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. It was raining harder and her hair was plastered to her head. She hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold. The poor horses, traveling through the storm. She felt sorry for them. To take her mind off everything, she told him another story. This one true.

  “When I was about five years old, I came outside the house one day. I always went through the door to the carport.” She thought about how to explain it. “A carport is kind of like a st
able for a car.”

  He made that guy sound that could mean anything. She took it to mean keep going.

  “When I stepped outside, I saw something wriggling. I don’t know what made me do it, but I jumped. It was a good thing I did. There were at least ten baby copperhead snakes on the floor. If I hadn’t jumped, I would’ve stepped on them.”

  He shifted, trying to sit up. Anna pressed a hand to his chest and he stopped struggling. “Were you harmed?”

  “No, but I watched them slither away, too afraid to do anything.”

  “I think you were very brave to jump over them.”

  “I didn’t feel brave at the time. There was one other thing that happened when I was a child. Something I’ll never forget. A couple years later, my dad took me hunting. I’ve always loved animals, so when we saw the deer with his beautiful antlers, I yelled run at the top of my lungs.” She laughed, remembering how mad her dad was.

  “He was so disgusted with me, he said we were going home that instant. As we walked down the dry creek bed, he grabbed me and pulled me behind him. A big black snake struck at his and he shot it. Before I could scream, another one came towards me. Cottonmouths are known for being aggressive. It bit his boot and he killed it as well. I was terrified. To this day I am terrified of snakes. It’s one good thing about being here—there aren’t any snakes.”

  “Is there nothing else you like about my country?”

  She could feel herself blushing. “There are a few things, but I think you should rest. If you don’t complain about being sick, I’ll tell you when we get to the tower.”

  He made a face and closed his eyes. In a little while she felt his body relax. She didn’t want to tell him how worried she was. He was definitely hot to the touch.

  When they stopped to take a break, she called one of the men over.

  “He’s feverish.”

  The man scowled. “I care not what happens to the bandit of the wood. One of the men he killed was my brother.”

  Anna guessed she wouldn’t be getting any help from them. She had to hope they would make it to the tower soon. Surely they would have a doctor?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  As the week passed, John got sicker. Anna pleaded for the guards to help him but they refused. The general consensus seemed to be if he died along the way, oh well. They didn’t care if they brought him back dead or alive.

  She touched a hand to his forehead. So the guards wouldn’t hear, Anna leaned close to his ear. If they knew, they would steal what little they had.

  “John. Wake up. Where is your gold? I’m going to bribe the guards.”

  He moaned softly, blinking several times. Like he couldn’t focus on her face.

  “In my boots. They took what I had in the pouch. Do not give it to them. Wait until we are in the tower. Give this lot the gold and they’ll slit our throats.”

  He was shaking, his teeth chattering even though it was warm today. The nights were turning cool. It was the second week in October. Was her dad still at the facility? No. She couldn’t worry about him now. John had to be the priority. If he died because they neglected him, she would beg and plead for his brothers to kill these men. She’d memorized their faces and names, hoping for payback. He was rubbing off on her. After all she’d been through, she’d started to accept the violence of the time, and wouldn’t hesitate to hit back.

  The next day, Anna woke to noise. They were in a long line going into the city. Some kind of toll. She laughed.

  “Tolls. You can fall through time, but you can’t escape them.”

  “A penny for the cart and six farthings for the horses, if you please.”

  The guards sneered. “We are on the king’s business and do not pay.”

  The man started to protest and the guard cut him off. “If ye have a problem, take it up with the king.” The man let them pass, muttering something. Anna had never been so grateful to see London.

  She roused John. He was the tiniest bit better. She helped him sit up as he coughed and swayed.

  “The toll is charged to help pay for street repairs. You can see the streets are full of mud and water.”

  Talking was a good sign. A huge wave of relief rolled over her. While he still felt incredibly hot to her touch, maybe his fever would finally break today.

  At the tower, the darkness chilled her. They half carried, half dragged John behind her. When she tried to help, one of the guards slapped her across the face.

  A large man stood in front of them. His belly hung over his hose and his long tunic looked like it had never been washed.

  The man looked at John and grinned, showing a mouthful of rotten and missing teeth.

  “Welcome back, Lord Blackmoor. We missed you. It wasn’t very nice for you to run off without saying goodbye.”

  John raised his head, bleary-eyed. “Go to hell.”

  The man chuckled and walked down the corridor. When you showed up as a tourist to visit the place it looked completely different than when you viewed it from the perspective of a prisoner. Anna hated to think what kind of vermin must be creeping around in the darkness of the cells.

  They came to a cell she recognized. It was the same one John was in when she freed him. John saw it too.

  “You kept everything ready. How kind.”

  “Throw him in. Put the wench in the cell next to him.”

  Anna pulled back. “Please. He’s ill. Send for a doctor. And I am not an English citizen. I demand to be released.”

  “Hear that, boys? The lady demands to be released.”

  The guards snickered. Anna couldn’t help it—she stuck her tongue out at them.

  The man in charge laughed. “I am the constable of the tower. You will pay for your accommodations here or you will be cold, starve, and die.”

  The guards trudged down the corridor. As the man turned to go, she reached out through the bars.

  “Wait.”

  He came back, leaning close. It took everything she had not to reel back from the foul stench of his breath.

  “There is enough here to pay for our well-being. And for a doctor.” The man reached for the bag, but Anna snatched it back. “I know there is also enough here to get a message out to his brothers.”

  She stood there looking at him, knowing full well he could easily take the gold. But there seemed to be some kind of code for bribery. He picked his nose and nodded.

  “I’ll see it done. I will return for the message. Give me the gold.”

  She passed it though the opening, sending up a prayer he wouldn’t simply pocket it.

  “Please. He’s very sick.”

  The man grunted and walked away.

  She couldn’t believe she was in jail. The sound of the door closing, the key turning in the lock…such final sounds. Anna wanted to cry.

  They’d all laughed when one of the tour guides pushed a bunch of them in and shut the door with a clang. It certainly felt different when it was for real.

  John lay on the bed shivering. Anna moved as close as she could.

  “John. Get under the covers.”

  He grunted but didn’t move.

  “You have to get up. Now.”

  He sat up with a frown. As he tried to stand, he fell to the floor. Her heart sank. He wasn’t getting better like she’d hoped; he was getting worse.

  He made it to the chair, sitting down with a thud, breathing heavily.

  “You must write a letter to your brother. To all your brothers. I gave the constable your gold. He said it would take care of us and he would send for a doctor. I made him promise to get a letter out.”

  “You gave him all the gold?”

  She thought she was going to cry. He braced his hands on the desk and stood. Pushing off, he stumbled over to her, taking her hands through the bars.

  “I am not displeased. You did what you thought right. There is plenty of gold there. More than enough…” She didn’t have to hear him say it to finish the sentence. For she knew. More than enough to
pay for his burial and to take care of her and possibly pay for hers. She’d heard the guards. They said she was going to die for helping him. At this point all she could focus on was John. How sick he was. There would be plenty of time later to worry about herself.

  “Can you write the messages? Do you want me to do it?”

  He swayed but did not fall. As he weaved and wobbled back to the chair, he looked like a drunk.

  “Nay. I will do it.”

  It was agonizing for her to watch him scratch out the messages. She could see the effort it cost him. By the time he was done, the sweat was pouring down his face and he was shaking. She could hear his teeth chattering across the small space.

  Once more he dragged himself over to her, the messages grasped in his hand. But this time he slid down, sitting on the floor. She reached through the bars, taking the scraps of paper.

  “You have to get into bed and cover up.”

  He shook his head and reached into the pouch at his waist. He came out with something brown. Anna looked at what he held, not sure what she was looking at. Then she gasped.

  “How?”

  He pressed it against his lips.

  “When they cut your glorious hair, I saw the strands blowing away on the wind, I grabbed what I could. I would keep this part of you with me always.” He tucked it back in the pouch.

  Anna thought there was a leak in the ceiling and water was dripping on her, until her vision blurred. She was crying.

  He reached through, wiping her tears away. “Do not weep, my darling. You must hear me.”

  She shook her head, not wanting to hear what he was going to say. Afraid.

  “If I die…”

  “Don’t say it. The doctor’s coming you’ll be fine.”

  “You are my sun.” He took her hands in his, the heat from his fever melting into her bones. “When I die, have the constable send for my brothers. They will do all in their power for you. They will aid you however they can. I—”

  He was prevented from saying more as the constable came back.

  “I haven’t got all day. Give ’em here.”