The Temporal Knights

by Richard D. Parker

  Sergeant Sadao, Corporal Jefferies and their constant companion Sir Elid of Wiltshire were already waiting for him and practicing. Ædwin’s right palm began to itch as he caught sight of the renowned Sergeant, who was crossing swords with Corporal Jefferies. Ædwin frowned when he realized that both men were welding heavy swords, which were fine for actual warfare but pour dueling weapons. But Ædwin watched them for a moment before he was noticed and was impressed with their apparent, though simple skill. Both men were very fast, but lacked the finesse of a truly gifted swordsman.

  ‘This will be most interesting,’ he thought and studied the surroundings. The rest of the courtyard was empty as he’d insisted. It was well known that Ædwin Mucel refused to practice the art of fencing in public. It wasn’t that he was shy; rather Ædwin had a long standing rule, one he learned from his father, who was a very fine swordsman in his own right. When he was just a young lad, his father drilled in him the need for secrecy, of never letting a potential opponent see what skill you possessed before the time of reckoning. It was a good rule, and kept many would be name seekers from challenging him, after all a man’s reputation was often far larger than the man himself.

  “Sir Ædwin,” Sadao said with a smile, making the blunder of elevating the man to the noble class. Ædwin ignored the mistake with a smile of his own. These men were truly strangers to this land, but he found he liked this odd looking, happy man. In fact, he found that he liked all the Americans. They were so open, friendly and honest that he would have thought them either simple or naive if he hadn’t seen them kill.

  They all walked over and shook his hand, which was a curious custom. Ædwin was present when Doctor Rice explained that the convention started long before their time to show that in fact the person you greeted held no weapon in his hand. A curious custom, but one Ædwin did not find unpleasant.

  “I’m glad you could come,” Sadao said, also excited by the prospect of facing the best swordsman of this era. The sword, especially the heavy long sword, was not truly his weapon of choice…that was the staff, as Sir Elid was unfortunate enough to discover so long ago. His fencing experience was largely limited to the foil, a much thinner and lighter sword. But he was very capable with most bladed weapons, including knives, spears, throwing stars, in addition to his hands and feet...and the M18.

  “Tis me pleasure,” Ædwin answered meaning it, “and I wish to thank ye for keeping the others away.”

  Sadao just nodded and then moved farther into the courtyard.

  “Ye’ve been practicing. Do ye wish to rest?” Ædwin asked removing his cloak and moving to the weapons rack which was set up along one wall. Jefferies watched with a smile as the man removed several blunt practice swords from the rack and testing their weight and balance.

  “Thanks, but no,” Sadao replied and took up his weapon, anxious to see what this man could do, and also show off his own skills. And so Ædwin handed his cloak to Sir Elid and then stretched his legs, did a few lunges and swung his sword about to loosen up his arms.

  “A test of skill, for fun,” Sadao said with a smile. Ædwin moved like he knew what he was about and the Sergeant realized he was in for a true test.

  “Fun,” Ædwin answered with a curious look, as if he were trying out the word. “Yah, let us have fun,” he added and attacked very quickly. He expected a quick score but was astonished when the American not only parried his blow but was moving to his left with incredible speed. Sadao attacked, Ædwin repelled, and counterattacked, and was repelled, and they moved about the yard, testing, attacking and defending.

  It was obvious from the beginning that Ædwin was the more skilled, but he was continuously stymied by the American’s unbelievable speed. Ædwin was shocked at the man’s ability to recover from his mistakes. More than once Ædwin thought he had an easy score only to be thwarted at the very last instant. And though it was his opponent’s speed that caused Ædwin the most consternation, Sadao also had skill…great skill, which baffled Ædwin since the Americans claimed that swords and swordsmanship were no longer regularly practiced.

  ‘It must be a lie,’ he thought and felt a twinge of doubt about his new friends, but he had little time to think of it at the moment, because Sadao continued to fight and attack at a speed with which Ædwin was unaccustomed. That the man had skill was undeniable, though Ædwin found his technique to be a bit crude, however Sadao’s speed and stamina were clearly superior to his own, and it was the Sergeant’s constant training that paid off in the end. They fought and dueled, each move countered and parried. They continued to engage in what would have been a stalemate, but eventually Ædwin began to tire and Sadao scored. Twice more they fought and each time Sadao was able to fend off Ædwin and keep him moving until he tired, and his responses slowed. Sadao was victorious every time. Ædwin was stunned. He had always considered himself to be the best swordsman alive, and realized suddenly that it wasn’t so. It was at once a crushing blow and a joy to find someone worthy of his sword. He bent over panting, and then glanced up at the Sergeant who was standing in the court, smiling at him, hardly out of breath.

  “Your skill is much greater than mine,” Sadao admitted with obvious pleasure. He would learn a great deal from this man. Ædwin just stared back at him, unable to catch his breath. Always in the past he had succeeded in disarming, or killing his man long before he was overly winded, and in the fights which lasted any length of time it was his opponent that always seemed to tire first, but this man...this man could fight the entire day.

  “Come Sir, fight me now,” Sir Elid said and threw Sadao a staff, then Sir Elid attacked with his own, and with a vengeance. They fought well, with mind numbing speed and at one time it seemed that Sir Elid might even triumph, but incredibly, Sadao blocked a particularly vicious blow and then surprisingly kicked out with his foot, catching the knight in the middle of his chest and sending him flying backwards. Sir Elid hit the ground, did an amazing rolling flip, and was back on his feet in an instant. They continued to fight on, Sadao finally dropping Elid, as he always seemed to do. Sadao helped up his close friend. They were both laughing, and but only slightly winded, Sir Elid no more so than the Sergeant.

  “So ye do tire,” Ædwin commented with a grin.

  “Yes, this young buck can give me a run now,” Sadao admitted and Sir Elid still could hardly believe that the Sergeant, at thirty-four, was over ten years his senior.

  “You are an artist with the sword,” Sadao said coming over to Ædwin.

  “As are ye.”

  Sadao shook his head. “No, training and stamina, is all. If you work with us for a time I won’t be able to touch you.”

  “Tis true, come join us. Tis hell on earth, but in the end is the gates of heaven itself,” Sir Elid said of his own training. “They whilst show ye wot it is to be a true man, to be truly alive, and ye will be far better in everything ye do.”

  “Wot is it they do? How can ye be so fresh even still?” Ædwin asked.

  “We run,” Sir Elid said with a smile. “We run and run and run, ‘til methinks I can out run me own horse, and then we practice and practice and practice. Those first weeks I thought me arms and legs would fall off so tired and sore I was, but then something strange and wonderful happened. I began to run and run more…and I liked it. Twold na have thought it possible.”

  “Addicted to endorphins,” Jefferies quipped and he and Sadao laughed though the two local men did not understand the jest.

  “Let’s go again,” Sadao said to Ædwin and retrieved his sword. Ædwin nodded, and the two went at it again, Sadao already picking up some of Ædwin’s tricks and mannerisms. Ædwin smiled at the imitation and knew instantly that he would do as Sir Elid suggested. He would join these men, and gain the strength they had, for it was what he wanted more than anything in the world. After losing to Sadao again, Ædwin fought Jefferies, who was equally as fast, and equally as strong, but much less skilled and Ædwin bested him two out of three times, and fared even better with Sir Elid
, though he only challenged him twice, beating him both times. Of course then Sir Elid challenged him with the staff, a weapon Ædwin had only used sparingly and he was soundly beaten. Afterwards they rested, toweling off the sweat of the day.

  “Nasty business about the Lady Ellyn, that Helmstan character and your friend,” Jefferies said to Ædwin, as they sat on the ground sipping cool water.

  Ædwin shook his head. “Yah, the man has na honor.”

  “Sir Oldalf twill be wantin’ to challenge him,” Sir Elid said with sympathy, for he and Oldalf had been friends and associates for many years.

  “Sir Oldalf should na,” Ædwin replied. “Helmstan tis verily skilled and wold kill him. And wot of this Mayjor Thane...is he as skilled as ye?”

  Sadao smiled. Thane was big, and strong. His skill was mostly boxing, and Sadao had little doubts the Major could inflict much damage if he was forced to box him, but with weapons, and the martial arts, the Major was just average and had little innate talent.

  “No, the Major is good, but I’d hate to see him fight anyone with a sword.”

  “Helmstan will challenge him, says the King desires it, though I think na. Tis na Alfred’s way, but I’ll know more from Ealhswith tonight,” Ædwin said simply. “If’n yor friend is na skilled he should na come.”

  “No, he should not,” Sadao agreed, anxious to pass on this information. Ædwin saw the worried look in the eyes of his new friends.

  “I will kill him for ye,” he said simply. “Tis a fight Helmstan be wantin’ for a long time now.”

  §

  “Well husband, wot will ye do about Sir Helmstan?” Ealhswith asked in the King’s private rooms.

  Alfred looked at her annoyed, but said nothing, so the Queen looked to her daughter for support.

  “Ye canna just let it go. Sir Oldalf and the Ammericaans are verily upset that such a thing could happen with yor blessing,” Æthelflæd added, supporting her mother completely in this matter. Helmstan, despite his long loyalty to her father, was a beast and no gentlemen.

  “Twas na with me blessing,” he answered angrily.

  “Tis wot Sir Helmstan has claimed, and twas nathe Ammericaans who heard the boast, but yor own people,” Flæd argued.

  “Tis na the time. Na matter wot ye think. Helmstan’s been a valuable advisor and I’d na abandon him so quickly,” Alfred argued. “He danna trust the Ammericaans, and believes they be taken matters into their own hands, na matter wot I say as King,” he added and then fell silent.

  In truth, Helmstan was a worry. He was all about the fight, whether it be personal, or in matters of the state and he was far too rash. In fact, if he’d listened to Helmstan he’d be at war with these Americans now…and that was not something Alfred liked to contemplate.

  Alfred realized that Helmstan was likely finished as a close advisor, but he could not let it appear that the Americans forced him into such a decision. He must show no weakness. But even Alfred had to admit, Helmstan was very clever…too clever maybe. The attack on the girl would certainly test the American’s word, though Alfred would never have condoned such actions. Still, he was curious as to how the Americans would react. Would they meddle in the affairs of state as he feared? Perhaps this was indeed a fortunate turn of events. Whatever else the man may be, Helmstan was clever; there was no denying that.

  “Sir Oldalf will na sit idly by...” Ealhswith continued, but Alfred held up a hand and she stopped.

  “Will the Ammericaans interfere with my rule?” He asked his daughter, feeling as if the two women closest to him were both against him.

  Now it was Flæd’s turn to be quiet. She was not sure what they would do if Sir Oldalf was killed, as he surely would be if he challenged Sir Helmstan. “They be powerfully upset,” she said slowly, wanting to get just the right words, “and Sir Oldalf is a strong friend of theirs.”

  “Will yor Genaral interfere with my rule?” Alfred asked like a slap, and watched as his daughter’s face turned red with anger.

  “Yah, he might. They prize women above all else, as ye seemed to have guessed, but methinks it twill take the death of Sir Oldalf for them to act,” she retorted, angry now, which was not what she wanted. “Wot are yor plans for them, father?” she asked just as Sir Wulfhere entered the room. Alfred waved him over and pondered the question that had troubled his brain since the fields of Exeter.

  “I know na,” he answered simply, “if it comes to war, they can take me lands, but knowing that, do I just hand it over to them...I think na.”

  “Mayhap ye can offer them lands and titles. Give them Rochester and the lands east to the sea as with Eadwulf, but keep Sussex and Surrey,” Sir Wulfhere suggested. “Keep them east of the Arun, and make them swear their fidelity to ye as King.”

  “Yah, but twold they honor such a vow?”

  “They behonorable men,” Sir Wulfhere replied before either Ealhswith of Æthelflæd could come to their defense. The two women glanced at each other, though they were both careful not to smile. They knew Alfred; he had the tendency to become stubborn if he thought he was being manipulated. Still with Wulfhere, who was a cautious man, on their side, they began to hope that they could sway Alfred from deciding against the Americans, which they all realized would only lead to disaster.

  “Sir Eadwulf was na an honorable man, but he bound himself by such an agreement,” Ealhswith added and moved to her husband and put a warm hand on his arm. She smiled at Alfred and he smiled sadly back.

  “Yah, but Eadwulf could na smash me armies like so much fodder,” he added thinking. “Tis a worrisome thing.”

  “M’lord, ye have na taken the time to know them, talk to them,” Sir Wulfhere said simply. “They be men of yor own heart; men of enlightenment, as well as warriors. Move among them,” he pleaded.

  Alfred shook his head. “Na yet. I’ve called for many of me subjects and I will hold council with them first, and if the King’s subjects embrace them, how could the King na. I will keep Helmstan near me, in the inner halls of Maiden for now, but ye watch these Ammericaans closely. Ye be me ears and eyes,” he finished, looking first to his wife, then to his daughter and finally to his oldest advisor.

  §

  Three days later, and after a considerable amount of searching Sir Oldalf spied Doctor Rice across the wide courtyard outside the main keep. He moved quickly in the Doctor’s direction but did not call out, not wanting to call attention to himself. He was still not over the attack on his daughter, and the very thought of it would throw him into a rage, but Sir Helmstan stayed well hidden and did not show himself about the castle. It was said that Alfred ordered the man to stay within the inner corridors of Maiden. In some ways the King was a very wise man. It was a good thing he kept Helmstan close, because Oldalf was not sure he could control himself if he came in contact with the man. His need for vengeance was eased a bit by the fact that his daughter had recovered completely. She seemed much her old self, though now she did not go anywhere unescorted. Two of the Queen’s guards were always with her and another American soldier supplied by the General himself. He finally caught up to the Doctor near the stairs to the lower levels. They greeted one another amiably.

  “I’m going exploring,” Rice told the old knight with a smile and since Sir Oldalf was not pressed at the moment he decided to tag along. So they moved down several levels and entered the lower rooms of the castle.

  ‘The docktor tis a strange man with strange tastes,’ Oldalf thought as he followed the man into the large washroom. Oldalf thought they might be just passing through but the Doctor stayed and watched for a long time. And all the while he conversed with the washer women, who were cleaning the linens and clothes of the nobles. Rice appeared to be very interested in the process, much to the delight of the women, who giggled and carried on, excited to have men in their midst. At first, Oldalf thought Rice was just lonely and was huntin’ for a passable washer woman, but then the doctor wandered off to the kitchens. There he watched the preparations for the coming
noon meal, so naturally Oldalf suspected the doctor fancied a cook above a washer woman, which the knight could well understand. But after studying the layout and preparations, the doctor again wandered off to the stables. He watched a carter replace the iron fittings to a wagon. And surprisingly, after a spell, the doctor, though he be like a nobleman, began to help the carter. A fact Sir Oldalf found most puzzling.

  “I was wantin’ to thank ye. Me dottir’s spirits have been better all morn,” he said as he followed the doctor around the stable area. After a moment they stopped to watch the smith work on hammering out some additional fittings.

  “No need to thank me,” Rice replied with a distracted smile, though he had not taken his eyes from the smith, who was hammering and folding a hot piece of metal over an anvil with the help of his apprentice. “We’ve all become quite fond of Ellyn...she’s a strong, healthy girl. She’ll be fine,” he added watching the folding process several times with apparently great interest.