The Knight Behind the Pillar

by John Pateman-Gee

  The Knight Behind the Pillar

  By John Pateman-Gee

  Amazon Edition

  Copyright 2014 John Pateman-Gee

  Amazon Edition, License Notes.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For my wife Sam and daughters Rosabel and Eyelyn

  Prologue

  I was only partly concerned that the branch was shaking enough to draw attention, but there was nothing I could do to stop it and had more pressing problems. My fingers were desperately fighting for grip. The strain from holding my own weight burned along my arms and was racing towards unbearable pain at an increasing pace. My resistance to such pain was somewhat battered already from my body’s recent suffering. Looking down beyond my now helpless and dangling legs that hung in mid air, I quickly reminded myself that it was a good distance to fall and began to pray for extra strength and grip. Why in the short time I had known Arthur did I keep finding myself in situations like this! Below me I spotted another thick branch and I was hit by a bright, probably more of a desperate, idea. Judging the gap I swung out, I let go, hoped and dropped.

  I missed.

  Chapter 1: 16 Years

  A symbol of passion, comfort, hope and at the same time fear, despair and pain. The simple flame sparked to life. Held aloft I fleetingly watched the torch and its owner step out into the night to join the shadows of figures that danced upon the stone walls beyond. The growing procession of torches held aloft slowly continued forward. Their lights flickered and provided false warmth to the members of the crowd huddled beneath them from the chill of dawn not yet arrived. Weaving through the people, ignoring their complaining shouts and cries, I continued to gain position. My mind was focused on what ahead awaited me and I cared not for those I pushed past.

  I was late.

  Ducking another torch, its flames briefly lighting the way ahead along and unwanted embers rained on my back. I barged through yet another person to get further on and quickened my pace to avoid being hit. Alas the mass of bodies slowed approaching the main gate and added to my anguish as opportunity to get around and on quickly vanished. Through a rare gap I glimpsed the tower ahead and of its many windows I searched out the one I feared. I could see it was just about lit with enough iridescent life against the gloom from a candle or two deep within. Darkness filled my chest as the spark of hope I had then died.

  Words passed my lips unheard against the discourse of the townsfolk as I battled forward again. All of a sudden I had made it to the timber boards of the short flat bridge that crossed an almost dry ditch. With it the sounds of many footsteps were made clearer against their low level conversations of expectancy. The people, now fused together more closely than before, pressed ahead and I resigned to being a passenger in the human river that flowed towards the tall timber gates. My nostrils protested at the level of intimacy being imposed, my feet already numb from being stood on too many times.

  More shadows joined and flickered against the stone walls of the stronghold that stretched out either side of the gates. Above and beyond there was nothing except the unending emptiness of the night and was now my only view out from my incarceration of people.

  Finally I passed under the dagger points of the portcullis above and the sounds of footsteps changed from dull knocking to the much sharper hitting of stone cobbles. Never before had I seen the marketplace within the fortress so full of people, but my journey had not finished. Torchlight reflected in shades of orange and red across the last rusting fragments of the guard’s breastplate, its design a relic of past times. As we moved I could just see through my human cage his naked arm directing the way to beyond another open entry as he blocked a doorway behind him. His uninterested face starred beyond the crowd, his thoughts of home expressed themselves plainly in the dull glint of his eyes while mindlessly he carried out his orders. As an unwilling passenger I could do nothing except look above towards the foreboding tower and the room I needed to reach.

  Frustrating minutes passed with no movement at all before there was another surge of bodies pushing forward and I was buffeted onwards again. At last an opportunity for escape presented itself, one of a number of empty market stalls that had been left behind from market day stood as an obstruction. It acted as a rock against the living river around which the crowd was forced to avoid it and switch direction. As people evaded it, I was quick and dived under the stall as soon as I could. People buffered against the stall, it sounded like a siege or mighty storm. Despite thinking it might be torn from the ground and taken with them any moment, the stall held fast as I pulled myself through to the other side.

  Free to move and serve my own will having escaped the main flow, I backtracked along the side. I walked alone amongst the torchlight flickering shadows of the town’s people to quickly return to the guard.

  The guard recognised me and true I was not hard to miss. My pale skin face made more evident against my raven black unkempt hair. I had ears that stuck out and I hated and attempted to hide by growing my hair long. Something about me also yelled to the world that I was trouble and misfortune would always find me even if I wasn’t looking for it, but to be honest I often was. There was no adventure in being safe all the time! The guard knew me well by sight, but I did not know his name and doubted he knew mine. Despite my years living here, duties were the priority and not social interaction. Why would he want to know who I was beyond knowing what role I served? Except for a simple nod, he paid me no attention has I passed through the doorway behind him.

  Built to defend against the mightiest of armies, the stone corridors were almost certainly going to lose the war with damp. In the lower quarters it was especially bad as natural light during the day never reached the rooms and the floors were green and wet to touch. In comparison if you dared entered the levels lower still you might think a cave would be dryer, certainly more comfortable and far more appealing to live in.

  I still had some distance to go through endless corridors to reach my destination. Ahead the kitchens and the smell of burning while above me I could hear noises and even strangely music. Strange only by its existence at this time of the day. Brushing dirt off my tunic, which perhaps had seen better days, I made a failed effort to look tidy. I straightened my tabard that had never seen the light of day until today, but was now being used to cover yet another hole I had found in my tunic last night. A deep breath later, I stepped forward, shaking bits of hay from my hair I had collected from bed this morning.

  A maze of possible directions affronted me and with little light to help see the dangers. This all made it impossible to guess your location within the great walls and so experience was my only guide. So I knew this was not the best way to have come, but after a bit I was making progress despite the path was becoming busier the closer I travelled to the central chambers. Urgency had griped me once more as now it was about damage control and how late I could avoid being. Servants, squires, pages and others appeared and disappeared, they seemed panicked and rushed which was exactly how I was feeling. Not even time for the slightest snigger at my lateness or cause to question my presence. Some servants carried large plates overflowing with meats, cheese and fruit and I guessed they were distributing food to the banquet hall nearby which was as unusual.

  The general routine of the fort was off key and things were not being played out in the right order and
I could hear the sounds of music playing at this time when day break itself had not yet come. I carried on, the banquet hall entrance I quickly passed before darting through yet another poorly maintained worn out timber door to reach my goal. No time to stop to swipe something to eat.

  Yet a moment to pause was forced upon me suddenly when I cornered the hallway as I noticed two nobles ahead approaching. They were in my way with little opportunity to avoid respectfully. I skidded to a halt and stood at once to one side, head down and awaited them to pass. Like any servant, as a squire I had learned the art of disappearing into the shadows and go unnoticed by my superiors, or at least allow them to choose to ignore me. Only I did not know these visitors.

  Standing still I ignored the noise from the banquet hall I had just passed, sounds of deals being done, the whispering of secrets, complains of work and thundering laughter. There was an air of excitement or madness, whichever it was I could not decide, but certainly it was intoxicating. Most likely it was simply the rich aroma of ale that filled the immediate hallways. Blocking it from my ears and privately complaining of the delay of my time, I listened to the strangers passing.

  “And he has been found. That was quick I must agree?” The first noble asked with a hint of mistrust as he continued his discussion with the second.

  I slowly raised my head enough to chance a look as much as I dare. They were both well dressed in finer cloth that was found common. Full long cloaks flowed around them brushing the floor, patterned to the edges with fine needlework. Their clothes were also in a far better state than average and bore no patch repairs unlike my own sackcloth tunic. Boots were even polished, lacked any holes or significant wear. I noticed gold rings lined the first noble’s hand the closest to me, but I could see no seal to give even the slightest clue to tell me from where he came.

  Despite similar wealth, the first was obviously the authority above the other who was more passive in his manner.

  “Yes my lord, but when he might reach us isn’t known. The messenger says he was sent on ahead but suggested he wouldn’t be long behind.” The second figure replied softy before passing by me. “Perhaps once he arrives he can enlighten us, but now aren’t we late ourselves?”

  “Ha!” Snorted the first with obvious distaste, “The man’s a fool so why Ector called for him is beyond me, he’s never been a help to anyone or anything. I can’t understand this need now for him to be here, but who am I to judge. And as for lateness, well, they can all wait. We have time to…”

  The men’s voices faded away around the corner. There had been many new people unexpectedly arriving for a day or two now, many of high status or at least appeared to be so. Corridors that were normally bare and empty were now filling up often, especially when food was being served. While intrigued about the conversation I gave a moment of thought to the crowd outside, but my mind switched back to my immediate concern and I set off again. The voices of the crowd outside was certainly growing, either more people were arriving or it was just the walls getting thinner as I disappeared up towards the upper levels.

  At last I arrived at the final passageway and had even managed to break a sweat against lingering chill having climbed the steep stairs. I skipped passed a number of closed doors before stopping outside the one I admit I now feared intensely. Good quality oak had been used for the doors of the upper levels. Most even fitted, or at least might have once. Instead, as with the door in front of me, light escaped the edges of most of them and in turn it helped see in the darkness of the hallway.

  My hand lifted slowly to tap the door. My will refused to move my hand faster than a snail’s pace as I delayed what awaited me behind the timbers. Something was dripping loudly close by, but further away was noise of the crowds outside and people talking, shouts and banging noises below.

  All noise stopped, deep breath and….

  “Boy!” A deep commanding voice shouted from the left, which was a complete surprise.

  I jumped. Not the shout itself, I was expecting shouting, but the direction for the shouting to come from was the shock. My hand had frozen just before it came in contact with the wood and then the voice repeated. “Boy, come here.”

  My hand decided the door was not its destiny and dropped away from the door. Confused the voice had not come from behind my door and a little inquisitive, I turned towards the source. The owner of the voice in fact stood at the end of the bare hallway and was a man standing outside a similar, but already open doorway. Either I had failed to notice him or not saw the door opening as my focus had been tightly narrowed to that of my own fate. Torch in his hand the flickering flame revealed a bearded older gentleman, who was missing his gauntlets, breastplate and helmet, but nonetheless worn a full set of chainmail over a dark coloured tunic and plated leggings and boots. My eyes fell upon the decorated scabbard and sword and quickly assessed their likely expense. My rough evaluation complete I concluded this man was a knight or some higher noble who was certainly not from around this valley. Another visitor, another mystery of what was happening in the world beyond my own meagre life.

  Cautiously I moved towards him.

  “Er, yes my lord” I answered, nerves sounded involuntarily as my steps shortened the closer I approached this unknown stranger. An odd feeling of discomfort burdened me as I was forced away from the room and I glanced back briefly to check it remained unopened.

  “Who are you?” He demanded without pleasantries as if I was trespassing somehow.

  This was the same question for him I had formed in my own head, but of course I would never ask, at least I would not dare as a squire. So many strangers in so few days I had lost track and in truth I did not care who they were if I was honest.

  I was not a stranger to the question being asked. As usual it did not mean what was my name or was in anyway an invitation to socialise and so I answered as expected. “Squire to Lord Aries, eh, in fact I am late to atten “

  “Squire?” The man interrupted, his voice boomed despite it not being raised.

  He frowned, his already deeply creased face and I quickly realised why

  “Recently made squire my lord.” I offered boldly and noticed the creases of the man’s forehead dissipated slightly as I had guessed right.

  I was young for being a squire in some people’s eyes. Just sixteen summers and found often that many of the strangers assumed I was just a servant or still a page. My actual birthday date I had long forgotten and had to guess by the time of the falling leaves each year that I had at some point I had gained another year. Not that those events in my life would matter to anyone here. Given my clothes I could have been mistaken for a sheep herder instead of the squire I had become, but my appearance did not matter to anyone either.

  Instead in the present I tried to hurry the man along who seem distracted in his manner.

  “I am very late my lord and mus...” I attempted to insist, but the knight had heard enough and waved his dark notably very hairy covered hand to vanish any further explanation away or words I had to offer.

  I took immediate dislike to him and obediently waited without eye contact.

  “You have not been sent by them?” He said and with the obvious disappointment there was a sigh.

  I was unsure if it was a question or he had already guessed the answer and was just stating fact, but risked an answer. “No my lord, I have not been send by them?” I ventured and lingered on saying the word ‘them’ as a question in the hope the man would perhaps enlighten me as to who they were.

  He ignored me again. “They are taking too long.” He muttered instead, party to himself and partly to the world without me in it.

  He paced a moment with hesitation and the occasional grunt as if on the edge of deciding something before looking back to the open door. If I could have tapped my foot I would have, but thought better of it. My mind drifted back along the stonework to the unopened door behind me that I failed to knock upon. Time was not something I had much to give without risk of more consequen
ces than I was already expecting.

  At last he made a decision. “Well I for one have had enough of child minding.” He said gruffly, “You stay here and attend the lad, do not leave him unless he sends you to find me and keep the room locked, got it?”

  Before I knew what was happening or could protest I was being shoved into the room through the open door. Words of protest did run around my head, I had taken ages to get here and now was in the wrong room. However, all words I had failed to materialise out loud. In truth this was perhaps due to another voice telling me wait because this meant I was perhaps being saved from my ill fate in the other room. On the other hand what was behind this door!

  The noble lord insisted he would not be long and stated again I was to keep the door locked as the door slammed shut with a loud thud and I was left staring at the back of it.

  “And if I wanted to find you? Who are you and where will you be?” I complained very sarcastically to the closed door as well as pulling a face, but I spoke with a quiet tone just in case it reopened.

  Rolling my eyes, I then remembered where I was and that someone might be in this room. I turned reluctantly to face what awaited me. What was behind me was a bed chamber, one of the few guest rooms available for some of the more important visitors to Caerleon. The fashionable damp stone walls that characterised the rest of the tower were hidden as much as possible with decorated oak panelling and roughly woven tapestries. If there were any illustration once portrayed they were lost to age, in spite of it being so unlikely that sunlight ever entered the chambers to fade them. This room had windows up high, but were shuttered off and I doubted they were often opened. Sheepskin rugs lay upon the floor as trip hazards, these had been randomly placed with little thought as this was not a room normally lived in. Candles flickered and the along with the open fire to one side the room did glow warmly. A rare sight indeed as I was so unaccustomed to the concepts of warmth and anything even close to dry in this old fort I took a moment to recognise it again. Impressive stonework framed the fire and reached the ceiling, but my focus was drawn to the person standing in front of the fire with his back to me.