The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series)

by James Batchelor

  William forced his pace to remain steady. He knew the epithets that Daniel Braddock was hurling at him now were intended to goad him into a duel, but he was fearful of the anger of this large, seasoned warrior. Still, William’s pride would not permit him to be seen as fleeing. He snorted at Braddock and withdrew, praying they were not riding after him.

  ***

  William felt the injustice of this day very acutely. He had been wronged and it was he who had been challenged, and when he chose to defend himself in the way he knew best, he was scorned and despised. He rode his horse through the forests in isolation for some time before finding himself at the lodging of the one person that should understand what happened. He walked into the small training building in which he had spent so many years. The floor was made of tatami, a traditional Asian straw that was tightly woven into mats that were softer than wood or dirt but still strong enough to withstand the abuse they were subjected to. The interior walls were made of paper. William had never realized how divergent his educations was from that of his brothers—never until that day. While his friends and brothers were learning to be knights, he was learning something else entirely in this room with the paper walls and tatami floors. He was totally unprepared to participate in their shows of gallantry and chivalry, and obviously they were as equally unprepared to withstand him. He walked through the main room, whose walls were liberally covered with racks of weapons of every description. He entered a small, single-room antechamber that Jurou had made his home for all the time William had known him.

  There were few decorations and even fewer mementos of Jurou’s past. His history had always been something of a mystery to William. He spoke little of it. On a few occasions Jurou had alluded to the fact that he had left his own land because of much oppression. William had gathered that his exodus was an extremely bloody affair, but Jurou had never volunteered more and William had never felt it appropriate to pry into something that his instructor clearly did not want to speak about.

  Jurou slept on a mat on the floor, and there was a small tokatsu: a short table for kneeling around, with a small brazier set in the middle for warming the room and heating a small tea kettle. Jurou had always lived this way, neither asking for luxuries, nor accepting them when offered. He seemed eminently content in his surroundings, but his real motives for staying on at Dawning Court after the death of Braden Dawning had always been inscrutable to William. He kept little society with the locals and trained few apart from William, and even then the training was only casual.

  William tapped softly on the wood frame of the thin paper door. “Shitsurai shimasu,” he said to announce his presence and slid back the panel. Jurou was inside, loading his scant belongings into a trunk.

  “What is this?” William said in shock. “You are leaving?”

  “You leave me little choice, William,” he said in his proficient but accented English.

  “I leave you little choice?” William demanded. He was already sensing that he would find no comfort for the day’s deeds here. “What does that mean?” Jurou continued what he was doing without a word. “Is this about today, about the tournament?” Jurou made no reply. “This has nothing to do with you! This was what I did of my own free will and choice, and I would do it again.”

  “You have disgraced me, William,” Jurou barked, standing up suddenly.

  “Disgraced you? I did exactly what you taught me. You taught me to fight to win. I do not know all the ridiculous rules of their games. Because of your training, all I can see is the many weaknesses they throw open to those who do not obey their rules. He challenged me, he lost.”

  “You were participating in their games, you were obliged to obey their rules. If you were unwilling to do that, you should never have agreed to it.” Jurou had resumed loading his belongings into a trunk.

  “He insulted me in front of Leah and then he challenged me!” William protested.

  “And you allowed him that control over you? You allowed yourself to be put into that situation where your foolish pride dictated your actions— not your sense, not your brain, but your pride? Yes, you beat him, and where is your pride now? Is this a victory in your heart?” Jurou said all this without looking up from his preparations.

  “I thought you would understand,” William said, deflated. “I thought you would…” he trailed off, unwilling to open himself up for another scathing rebuke.

  “Thought I would what? Approve?” Jurou paused for a moment to face his pupil in the yellow light of the small, clean room. “Then you have understood nothing of what I have tried to teach you. Of all the people I have trained, you were my best, my brightest pupil. To do yourself honor was to do me honor, but you have disgraced yourself and disgraced me.”

  “You do not have to leave!”

  “I have no choice. I made you what you are. I took a child haunted with demons and thought to tame those demons, to make him a man. Instead, I have made a remorseless weapon that cannot tell the difference between right and wrong. How can I live under the good graces of those who trusted your development to me when this is the result?” His words stung William like no one else’s could have. He felt the disappointment he had seen on his mother’s face in Jurou’s words. “My ways are strange to your people, but your father and mother gave me a sacred trust. A trust in which I have failed. That was never so plain as it was today. And someday, those demons are going to get loose again, and then wo be unto all who are in your way.”

  “You want me to apologize to that buffoon?” William remonstrated. “Very well, I will do that now. I will degrade myself in front of everyone and beg the forgiveness of a lesser man for besting him in his own contest. Will that satisfy your ‘honor’?” William spat the last word in disgust.

  Jurou stopped suddenly and looked at him. “William… Vincent is dead!” Jurou barked. “How do you apologize for that?” He had raised his voice, something he only did on occasions when he felt he was not getting through to his pupil. “How do you undo that? Shame, William, for shame.” He unknowingly repeated the reproach of the marshal of the field.

  William leaned against the frame of the door, stunned. “I don’t understand what I did wrong!” William protested in a weak voice. He felt that his whole world was collapsing around him.

  “And that is the problem,” Jurou finished simply. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Jurou paused and looked at the floor, ruminating. At last he sighed and placed both hands on William’s shoulders. “You are the most talented pupil I have ever trained,” he said. “But your fear and anger have robbed you of your humanity. I thought I could quell that in you. I believed that with patience and care I could channel that, but I have failed. You felt the power of emotionally distancing yourself while in the training yard. Yet as soon as it mattered, you let your anger rule you.” He sighed. “You don’t understand. At least had I instilled in you your country’s rules of chivalry, valor, and honor, you would have had some guidelines by which to govern your behavior; but I have robbed you of even that.”

  “Is there no hope for me, then? Am I so lost that even my old friend and teacher cannot abide with me?” William’s voice cracked with emotion.

  “There are noble and good things in you, William, but like once-hewn grass that is now overgrown with weeds, the fruits of fear, anger, hatred, and pride have cast a shadow over them until they are all but invisible. You have demons that rest upon your shoulders, and until you cast them off, they are in control. Now,” he said straightening, “I must beg redress for my failings at your mother’s hands.” He walked around William to leave his chamber.

  “Won’t you stay? Won’t you help me?” William pleaded, unable to look at him. “I don’t have anyone else.”

  Jurou paused when they were shoulder to shoulder, also not looking at his young ward, not wanting to show the emotion in his own eye. “My staying would avail you little as you will no longer be at Dawning Court.” William looked at him sharply, wondering what worse fate was presently
to befall him. “Braddock’s last son is dead because of your actions. If you wish to survive the night, you will not be here when the sun sets.”

  “What?” William suddenly felt fear grip him. “I—” his words were lost in his stunned mind.

  “There is a contingent of soldiers passing by Dawning Court this evening on their way for the Holy Land . You best be with them.” William fell back against the door frame. “And William,” Jurou said meaningfully. “Not a word to anyone. Your very life depends on your anonymity in this.” Jurou made as if to leave and then stopped. “May God take you to His bosom, my son,” he said, still not looking at his erstwhile pupil ,and left the room.

  William remained in stunned silence, unable to comprehend how quickly his life had been destroyed. It was as if all his past deeds that had gone unpunished caught up to him at this moment and all the injury he had done was being returned upon his own head. He remained in this attitude for a long while until the overwhelming impulse struck him that he had to be with the men leaving for the Holy Land. He raced out of Jurou’s room. He would be with them.

  ***

  The moon was high as Leah rode up the path that ran along the stream into the woods. It was too dangerous for a loan female to enter the woods after dark, but if she was right, she would not have to. She crested the small hill and looked over the moonlit clearing where she had spent so many carefree hours as a girl with William. If he had intended to see her, this is where he would be, and oh, how she needed him to be here. She needed to know that he spared a thought for her as their lives were being suddenly and dramatically torn apart.

  There was a gnarled old tree not far from the tree line that they had shaded under on a thousand warm afternoons, and that is where she was headed. She rode slowly now. Though the moon was high, the shadows it cast made this old familiar place seem very foreign indeed. The sounds seemed unnatural, and the shapes looked ominous. More than once she almost lost her nerve and thought to turn back, but of all nights, this was not the night to be frightened of shadows. There was too much at stake.

  She rode up to the large willow trunk and reined in sharply. A figure was before her, spear dramatically whirling overhead. It was only after she identified herself that William relaxed.

  He stood from the tense crouch he was in. “I was wondering if you would come,” William said with relief plain in his voice. She slid out of the saddle and followed him behind the trunk of the old willow tree where they were hidden from view of anyone not coming from the forest itself.

  “I had to come,” she said in an earnest whisper. She was not sure why she was whispering, but it seemed appropriate.

  “And I had to see you.”

  “William,” she started anxiously but could not say what was in her heart. He looked up expectantly from where he dropped to the dirt and slumped against the trunk of the tree, but she only dropped her eyes. “I am sorry… about all of this.”

  He snorted and shook his head. “It is so strange to think that I have forever altered the course of my life. Everything I ever wanted, that I ever thought I would be, has just changed forever. I have changed it forever.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” she protested. “We can fix this, we can talk to Baron Braddock. We—”

  “It cannot be fixed,” William cut her off heatedly. “His son is dead! He is not going to forget that. He is not going to forgive me because I say I am sorry. Vincent is dead and nothing will change that.” Leah dropped her eyes. William chortled a mirthless sound. “You know what I have been sitting here thinking about all night?” She shook her head. “I have been wondering if I should give myself up. If I should go to Braddock and let him have me.”

  Leah looked confused. “Why would…”

  “Don’t you see, Leah? Everything has now changed because of this. If I stay, my mother will protect me and we will go to war with the Braddocks over this. Instead of one life being lost, hundreds will be slaughtered. And my family could lose everything. Because of me!” His voice cracked at this last statement. “But I cannot seem to bring myself to that point. Whether by fear, pride, or something else, I cannot imagine myself submitting to my doom over this.” Leah said nothing. She wanted to comfort him, but he obviously needed to speak his mind. “I suppose there was nowhere else my road could lead. It seems inevitable that I be sitting right here one day. I can see that now. Yet somehow, I never saw myself as the villain before today. I always believed that I was the good guy and everything would work out because deep down I never really meant any harm. What a naive fool I was—am.” He shook his head in disgust. “But…” he said hesitantly, looking at the ground as he spoke. “You tried to warn me. Had I listened to you, none of this would be happening,” he trailed off, and they sat in silence for a long time.

  “What will you do?” Leah asked at last.

  William shrugged. “I will leave. If I run, I will be branded an honorless coward, but it would avail Braddock little to exact revenge on my family, as he will not get what he wants. If only my father were still alive, Braddock would not even consider going against the Dawnings. Yet my father is the reason that I know there is no forgiveness to be had. He would not let this stand, and Braddock is cut from the same cloth.” He chuckled the same mirthless laugh as before and shook his head.

  Leah went down on her knees beside him and took his hand in both of hers and pulled it close to her. “You will always have a friend here.” There were tears in his eyes as he considered his next words to her.

  “Leah, will you make me a promise?” he asked, sitting up close to her. “Something that I have no right to ask but must anyway.”

  Her eyes widened slightly and her pulse quickened. “Anything,” she said breathlessly. Impulsively.

  “Will you promise me that you will always remember this? That I meant no harm. That there were true and noble things in my heart.”

  “Oh.” Leah’s countenance fell. “Of course.”

  “Even should Braddock sweep down in his wrath and those you love are killed and your family is forced to flee, will you remember this? Will you recall that I gave up everything I could in order to fix this? Will you remember that?” He was very earnest as he sought the answer from her lips and confirmation in her eyes.

  Leah took a deep breath to gain control of her emotions again and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Of course, William. I have always known that about you, and this has not diminished my esteem for you. I would give anything to undo it, but what’s done is done.”

  William was on his feet again. “I must be on my way. It will not be long before Braddock discovers I have fled, and he will pursue me.” He looked from her as she rose. “I would that I had listened to you, my good angel. It was only after it was over that I could see so clearly that is what you are to me. If only I had had the wisdom to see it before, how much happier would I be now?”

  “And I, William,” she said softly. He stared at her a moment longer as if trying to burn her image into his brain. “I must not delay any longer.” He started for the trees to retrieve his horse only to slow and come to a stop again a few paces from her. He dropped his spear but did not move for a long moment. “William?” Leah took a step forward. “Are you all right?” Without a word, he spun and crossed the distance to her with a few long strides and pulled her to him. His lips found her ready to receive him, and for the first time they shared a passionate kiss that did more to express their emotions than their words ever could. Leah lost herself in that moment as warmth flooded over her body. Their passion mingled with their tears as they showed the first signs of anything more than friendship on the eve of being separated perhaps forever.

  William held her close to him for a long time while she wept silently. “If there were one thing I could change, one thing I could undo…” he trailed off, not bothering to articulate what Leah could feel so clearly. She held onto him and wished there was some other alternative.

  “Where will you go?” she asked when he fin
ally stepped back.

  “I suppose I will join the Crusades. They can always use a good spear there.” He wiped her tear-stained cheeks and brushed his own away. “I must go.” She nodded mutely and reluctantly released him. He disappeared into the dark mass of the forest and emerged a few moments later leading his heavily laden mount by the bridle.

  “William—” Leah started and again stopped herself when she met his eyes. “Please be careful,” she said simply.

  “Leah, I don’t know what to say,” he was fiddling idly with the ties he used to secure his weapon. “Thank you… Thank you for everything you are and have always been to me.” With that he climbed into the saddle, and taking one last lingering look at her, he spurred his horse into a gallop.

  Leah watched him ride away into the darkness. As he reach the crest of the hill, he stopped once more and looked back for a long time before disappearing into the black mass of the landscape.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “His majesty wishes to inform the Lady Dawning that she is seriously delinquent on her duties to the crown,” the tall, thin man, draped in brightly colored livery that distinguished him as one of the king’s personal messengers, informed Martha Dawning haughtily. “Knights from Dawning Court have failed to accompany his majesty on either of his last two campaigns-”

  “And which campaigns were those?” Martha interrupted caustically, “The Welsh uprising at King John’s questionable claim on the throne, or his defeat at the hands of the French, losing most of Normandy?”

  “And while you have chosen to invoke your right of scutage,” the messenger continued as if she had not spoken at all, “which his Majesty has so generously offered to relieve the burden the demand for knights may create on some of the less fortunate barons, you have failed to show any intent to such payment.” He finished with his hand on his hip, his half cloak hanging fashionably over his extended elbow and the tips of his shoes turning up on themselves, looking every bit the smug messenger that could act with impunity under the auspices of the throne. The main chamber of Dawning Castle was set below the dais, causing those addressing the baron—or in this case Martha Dawning, with Henry standing behind her right shoulder—to have to stand in the middle of the largest room in the palace and look up to the dais. This tended to intimidate most guests. It made them feel small and powerless; but the messenger was completely self-possessed and showed no inkling of being self-conscious if, indeed, he harbored any such feelings.