The Temporal Knights

by Richard D. Parker

  “Why do you keep folding the metal over on itself like that?” The doctor finally asked much to the surprise of the smith and his helper.

  “Beg, M’lord,” the smith answered, not understanding.

  “What is the purpose of what you are doing?”

  The smith frowned and became very anxious, shifting from one foot to the other, and he had such a look of helplessness on his face that Sir Oldalf began to chuckle. He calmed the smith down and then he translated for him.

  “Eh,” the smith said nodding happily, pleased that his work should so interest a nobleman, and one of the strangers to boot. “Me works the iron t’geeve it st’ngth M’lord, which surprisingly the doctor understood.

  “May I try it?” Rice asked and stunned both the smith and Sir Oldalf by taking off his shirt and climbing the low fence which separated them from the foundry. The smith was reticent at first, but the doctor was insistent and had watched the smith carefully. He grabbed the hammer and tongs, and repeated the sequence of moves with some ineptness at first, but with a bit of help and encouragement from the smith he was soon pounding away, and thoroughly enjoying himself, much to the confusion of Sir Oldalf.

  “What are your names?” Rice asked after a good bit of time.

  “Pensley,” the smith answered.

  “Offa,” the apprentice answered very perplexed by this friendly stranger.

  “I’m Gordon,” Rice answered, but neither of them would ever call him anything so personal. They remained quiet and just looked at one another with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

  Rice continued to work the iron for the better part of an hour, until the bells sounded telling them of the approach of the mid-day sup. Rice thanked the smith, who was truly impressed with the man for his interest and attention. It was his experience that the noble class, though wanting iron work done, had little interest in the sweat it took to create the wondrous things around them.

  On the way to wash up, they passed Private Brooks, learning to shoe a horse; Corporal Trotsky was practicing fencing with a pair of knights, and Goldstein was sitting against a stone wall working on carving out a round flute like instrument with the help of one of the local musicians. But what really struck Sir Oldalf was that after washing up, and Doctor Rice demanded that their hands be verily clean, the two of them went to fetch Ellyn, who was attending Lady Ealhswith. And who should they find but General Peebles, along with Sergeant Sadao and Captain Hersey, sitting among the ladies and helping with the mending and embroidery.

  Sir Oldalf frowned and scoffed a bit, but said nothing to challenge these men, for he knew that any of them could match him easily. Instead he held his tongue and greeted his daughter and the rest of the ladies.

  They headed downstairs to sup together and were all surprised when the King joined them, but even this bit of news took a back seat when the Lady Merwinna and her party from Somerset arrived in the middle of the meal. And it was quite a party, over sixty folk in all, most of them retainers but there were also a few surprise guests and old friends, including Ellyn’s Aunt Eldreena, Hester Manning and her two boys. Tranter Church, the small boy from Pilton who’d broken his arm, was also in the group standing shyly next to his parents. His arm was still in the cast, though it was due to be removed soon.

  Also traveling to Winchester were Beatrice Conner, Selby’s mother, Friar Padstone, Meg Jones, the cesarean mother, and her new baby Gordon, plus her husband. The group from Athelney now made up a vast contingent of local Englishmen and women who would speak for the Americans. Father Gillian was also present. He’d arrived the previous evening with the Bishop of St. Albans, both traveling with the renowned Madame Lisette from Rochester. The gathering made quite a mix and included nearly everyone who’d been in close contact with the Americans. There were others also, some from Kingston and a few from Doncaster and a strange man none of them knew from Long Eaton.

  The Americans were all happy to see everyone again, and the Lady Ellyn and her father were equally glad to see so many of the people from the town of Athelney. However, the arrival of the Lady Merwinna made Ellyn all the more aware of the fact that Matt was not present. She missed him terribly. But Sir Gospatrick was ever dutiful now that he was up and about and slowly regaining the use of his right arm. He was a constant presence by her side and determined to protect her at all times. Gospatrick was now the perfect gentleman, his endless wooing had finally come to an end. Ellyn was grateful to a degree, but she couldn’t help but notice that the man now acted a bit uncomfortable and standoffish since her attack.

  For his part Gospatrick was also aware of his shifting feelings toward the girl. Something had changed between them. It hadn’t been the sight of her naked flesh that so troubled him, but the fact that he’d been sorely tempted by Sir Helmstan’s invitation to share her body that caused him so much discomfort. Her pure, white skin was still vivid in his memory. Whenever he closed his eyes the image of her perfect round breast formed in his mind, along with his intense desire and her wide, terrified eyes. He clearly remembered the sight of her. He had a powerful desire to have her there on the sandbar, and he wanted her still. It shamed him to think he was anything like Helmstan, but he could not deny his want of her.

  The meal turned into a festive reunion and afterwards the King announced that he would be holding an audience with each one of the new arrivals over the next few days. Everyone was excited; everyone was nervous, but both General Peebles and Dr. Rice felt that indeed the King was doing the right thing. Even Colonel Lemay began to show the King grudging respect for his caution and thoroughness. Their good feelings crumbled as the King approached General Peebles, who was standing next to the Lady Ealhswith, Colonel Lemay, Father Gillian and the Bishop.

  “Ye have designs on me wife or me daughter?” Alfred asked bluntly, ignoring the fact that Ealhswith grew red with anger.

  “M’lord?” Peebles replied with all courtesy, wondering at this mysterious man who held the country together. Nearly all the locals seemed to take their word at face value, even Lord Eadwulf in his own respect, but the King had yet to engage any of them in any lengthy conversation since their return to Winchester.

  “Mayhap, it was just an interest in embroidery which kept ye with the ladies all morn,” Alfred said consciously adding a touch of disdain in his voice.

  “Actually, both is true,” Peebles answered truthfully, looking not at Alfred, but at Ealhswith. “Your wife is truly captivating, an engaging but taken woman. You are a very lucky man M’lord. And it is also true that we have interest in many things your people do on a daily basis...even you.”

  King Alfred stared at the large man before him for a long time, reading him as open and honest. Still he was suspicious. This may well be the most devious man he had ever had the pleasure of dealing. Lord Eadwulf was clumsy and obvious next to these people, but perhaps what they claimed was true. The General certainly handled accusation well, and did not fall easily into anger. He would see. He would learn more of these men. “I’ll be holdin’ audiences with me subjects, please wait. In three days I will hold council with ye.”

  Peebles bowed slightly at the waist, pleased that the King had let his immediate plans be known. It would be a help to him and all of his men.

  Over the next three days the King saw many people, a seeming endless parade of subjects, and when the stream of newcomers were not holding an audience with the King, they were renewing their friendships with the Americans.

  “Yah, he talked to me for a long stretch,” Tranter said with a smile, flexing his arm, happy that it worked so well, though it was pale and thin looking, something strange, like it was not his arm at all. Dr. Rice removed the cast just before the King’s audience, and the boy and his parents were overjoyed to find the arm worked just as before.

  “It will take your arm time to regain its strength, but soon it will be as if it was never broken at all,” Rice explained and they thanked him over and over again before taking their leave. Rice whistled as he
walked through the large dark corridors to the General’s room, and was surprised and happy to see his two doctor’s in training, Friar Padstone and Father Gillian.

  “Ho!” Padstone hollered and strode to Rice, clapping him on the back happily. “Tis good to see ye again Docktor.”

  “Good to see you too and you Father Gillian.”

  “Aye, tis a good day,” the Father agreed and likewise greeted his friend. “The Bishop is na quite so happy ‘bout it. He’s a temperate man, and wot stories ye tell make him a bit ponderous over the future of the land, though I told him ye be good and Christian folk.”

  Rice and Peebles exchanged a look, and Lemay coughed in the corner, but said nothing.

  “The King, methinks, is coming around,” Padstone added simply. “We talked for hours about the fancy medicine ye know, and how ye helped both the Church lad and the Jones woman. He be with her now, and a most wondrous telling he be learnin’ from her. Our good King was much interested in the tale, methinks.” And indeed at that moment the King was much impressed with Meg Jones and her baby. He even made the woman remove her dress so he could see the scar left where Doctor Rice removed the baby. She did, just a bit nervous, but after all he was her King.

  “Well, he’s brought enough of the locals in,” Rice said to Peebles, “and all of them appear to be favorable to us.”

  Peebles nodded and opened his mouth to speak, when the ring of steel sounded from the courtyard below. They all rushed to the balcony and looked down to see Ædwin Mucel and Sir Helmstan, each standing at attention, swords drawn.

  “Shit,” Peebles said and together they ran to the door and hurried down the stairs. They were in the courtyard in moments but were now just part of a growing crowd that encircled the pair of fighters. Peebles, being far larger than most, forced his way forward, followed by Rice and Lemay, the two religious men in their wake.

  “Should we stop it?” Peebles asked.

  “No, let them handle their own affairs,” Rice answered as they reached the front. Across the way Sadao, Jefferies and Sir Elid pushed their way to the front and watched the duel; farther down Peebles saw the Ealdorman Æthelnoth and the Lady Merwinna. Peebles happened to glance up and caught sight of the Queen, her daughter Æthelflæd and the Lady Ellyn. All of the women looked very tense but Ealhswith did give the General a worried smile.

  “Stand aside!” Sir Oldalf demanded as he bowled his way to the front just to the right of the General, with him was the injured Sir Gospatrick. The rest of the folk around the commotion were locals the General and his men did not yet know.

  Sir Helmstan circled about his opponent, happy for the crowd. He’d been cooped up in the inner castle for far too long now, and took the first opportunity to get out and see what was what...mayhap see a bit more of the Lady Ellyn. He had expected to be challenged by Sir Oldalf, but Ædwin Mucel was just standing in the courtyard like he was waiting for him. When Helmstan emerged Ædwin had drawn his sword without a word.

  They moved about each other, testing. “Ye wold fight a knight, a man of noble birth,” Helmstan taunted lightly, trying to bait his enemy to anger. Ædwin said nothing, and just continued to circle.

  “Wot be....” Helmstan began but was interrupted as Ædwin sprang forward in a furious attack, and though he had spent the last three days training with Sadao, his stamina had not grown perceptibly, but the constant practice did give him a certain sharpness. Three days of practice with a swordsman as gifted as the Sergeant had honed his reflexes and his muscles moved on their own accord. Thirty seconds later he knew he could wear down Helmstan so he waited patiently. Back and forth they went, slashing and hacking, though neither was able to score anything more than a few scratches. But as they fought, Ædwin could see the shock and anxiety in his opponent’s eyes, as if he too recognized who was who with the sword. Desperate, fearful men were unpredictable. So Ædwin waited back, jockeyed for position, only pressing the attack on occasion. He scored several minor wounds, one to Helmstan’s left thigh and the other just above the right eye, which bled terribly and at times obscured his vision. Helmstan did no more talking; instead he used all his skill and concentration to fend off his obstinate foe. Soon enough Ædwin would make a mistake…they all did in time.

  As Helmstan tired, Ædwin changed tactics and began to attack relentlessly, sometimes driving his opponent back so quickly that the crowd was forced to scatter. They battled, uncaring for those around them. Helmstan fought back but his thrusts were effortlessly deflected again and again. Ædwin’s style was all off, inelegant and imprecise, a commoners technique to be sure. The man was all over the place, not following any one pattern but no matter what Helmstan did it seemed to have little effect.

  “Ye be outmatched,” Ædwin said suddenly, his first words since Helmstan had stepped foot in the courtyard. Despite his opponent’s ungainly method, Sir Helmstan was beginning to suspect the man might be right, but he refused to admit it aloud.

  ‘I must end this quickly,’ Helmstan thought and pressed in close to Ædwin, forcing his way back to the middle of the square. Ædwin retreated before him, waiting. He made a quick feint to the right, orchestrated a small slip with his left foot and when the look of triumph appeared in Helmstan’s eyes he moved in quick and forced his opponent’s sword up and out. With a lightening slash he brought the tip of his sword down and across Helmstan’s exposed neck, severing several arteries, but not the carotid. Almost immediately blood was everywhere, spilling in the dirt, turning it dark and wet. Helmstan dropped his sword straight away, both hands moving to his wound, frantically trying to hold in his life’s blood. His eyes were wide with shock, but before he went to his knees Rice was there, with a cloth trying to stop the bleeding, which was robust.

  “Be calm,” he told Sir Helmstan. “Get him inside, and clear this area,” he ordered both Peebles and Lemay, now completely in charge. They moved forward and quickly grabbed the man and lugged him inside while Sadao and the others moved everyone back. Ædwin watched the proceedings with quiet curiosity, oblivious to the countless congratulations he was receiving. The crowd was buzzing with excitement still, and once the doctor was away Sadao appeared at his side along with Jefferies and Sir Elid. Sir Gospatrick was there first, however, smiling and clutching at his reserved friend.

  “Thank ye...thank ye,” Sir Oldalf said, very happy, clapping his champion on the back. “Ye be mighty with the sword indeed.”

  Sadao stood by his new friend and looked him in the eye, supporting him though he said nothing and did not touch him. Ædwin was now at peace; the fighting was over and he felt very self-conscious with all the attention he was getting. He was glad it was over, and at the moment he did not care whether or not this day would lead to more like it. He was just happy to be alive, in the sun, and surrounded by those who cared about him.

  §

  In the end, Dr. Rice could not save Sir Helmstan and he died of blood loss. In a modern hospital, with modern facilities the doctor was sure that the outcome would have been different, but instead all he could do was try to staunch the blood flow and watch disappointedly as the life slowly ebbed out of the man he was trying to save. He felt no sorrow however, for Helmstan was a despicable man, but only frustration at not being able to help him even though he knew how. With a transfusion of blood perhaps, but they had no blood supplies, a fact they needed to remedy.

  If the King was concerned about the death of his advisor he did not show it and continued to hold regular audiences with the locals who’d come in close contact with the Americans. The Ealdorman and Lady Merwinna had their turn, as did Sir Ceorl and Three Toes Erdwine; he also called Sir Oldalf and Ellyn. He spent a very long time with his cousin Sir Ordmere, recent prisoner of Eadwulf and then strangely finished up by talking with the notorious Madame Lissett. When the audiences were finished the King remained in seclusion for the remainder of the day, nor did he emerge that night for the evening feast, but early the next morn he called his council and invited General Peebles, Colon
el Lemay, and Dr. Rice, along with the Ealdorman, Sir Oldalf and Sir Ceorl. The King’s council was made up of Asser, the wise Welsh monk, Sir Wulfhere of Wiltshire, Sir John the Saxon, Grimbald, the bishop of Sherborne, plus his queen, the Lady Ealhswith, his eldest son Edward and his daughter Æthelflæd, the Lady of Mercia.

  They met in the King’s main audience chamber. It was a large room with an impressive row of arches and windows along one wall. Past the windows, Peebles could see a balcony that ran the entire length of the room. After a moment he realized it was the very same balcony that the Queen, Flæd and the Lady Ellyn stood during the duel.

  “Genaral Peebles, Colonel Lemay and Docktor Rice,” King Alfred began. “I wish to thank ye for ye patience and thy friendship that ye have offered to me and many of me subjects.”

  Peebles nodded, surprised. This was not the opening he expected.

  “I h’ve talked with many who know ye, and all speak kindly of ye and yor men, but I must know what ye plan. Strength ye h’ve. Yah, vast strength and there be many things about ye that be strange and wonderful, and mayhap divine,” he stopped and glanced at the Bishop. “Ye say yor here to help both me and me subjects, so tell us now, who ye be and help us how?”

  The story took just over three hours to explain so that the King and his advisors could at least begin to understand. It was much the same one the Lady Merwinna heard from Major Thane, and that she in turned passed on to her friend, Æthelflæd. There were many questions, many interruptions, many statements of disbelief, and even some outright accusations of falsehoods. Early on Rice sent for a dozen tablet computers, and called up many things, maps of the world, images of the Earth from the moon, a map of the solar system, pictures of the Milky Way galaxy, and another with many, many galaxies in it.

  Sir Oldalf, the Lady Merwinna, Sir Ceorl and Æthelflæd all chimed in with stories of their own about what they had witnessed, but they made it sound more miraculous than practical, and both Peebles and Rice were surprised by how they viewed the events of the past few months. The world as they knew it was changing drastically and rapidly. The printing press had yet to be invented, and the largest library in England, the King’s own, held no more than twenty-eight books and most of those were the bible in several languages. Oh, there were more enlightened places in Europe where libraries contained hundreds or even thousands of books on all subjects from astronomy to politics, but those places were now mostly in the Arabic world and not in western Europe. News traveled very slowly in these times, mostly by word of mouth, and it took many months to hear of anything that happened even in mainland Europe.