Overruled by Fate

by Leila Snow

  "I thank you, Edward," she agreed. "We will indeed comply with your wishes most gratefully." She didn't dare withdraw her hand when he placed his own upon it on the table.

  * * *

  Endle seemed somewhat recuperated by the following morning. Madeline thought the bone broth had seemed to restore him slightly and ordered that he be given nothing but the broth until she decreed otherwise. Unfortunately, he was still not well enough to rise from his bed and so it was that Madeline descended to break her fast in the great hall alone.

  She met the king on the stairs and they proceeded together.

  "How does Lord Endle fair?" he enquired solicitously.

  "Slightly better this morn," she responded.

  He nodded, looking pleased.

  Seating themselves once again at the high table they enjoyed good conversation whilst they broke their fast. Aileth and Geoffrey also joined them and the king conversed politely with them as well.

  "I anticipate the small tournament Lord Endle arranged for our entertainment today," the king said with a youthful exuberance. "Will you join us?" he enquired solicitously of Madeline. "The day will be dull without you," he cajoled.

  "I will also attend," she acquiesced. "I grew up observing the knights at their training. In fact," she leaned towards him conspiratorially, "I was once of the opinion that I wished to become a knight when I grew up."

  "Somehow I can envision that," Edward answered with a merry chuckle. "In that case I will anticipate your arrival at the training grounds forthwith my Lady."

  Madeline tipped her head.

  * * *

  Nathaniel sat in the great hall. His attention focused on Madeline. She seemed to have charmed the king, if the man's wandering eye and carnal gaze told a story. He watched through narrowed eyes as Madeline leaned in close to the king to whisper a shared confidence. And he ground his teeth when the king flashed his white grin at her and tossed his head back to laugh uproariously at whatever it was she had said.

  Unable to watch further, he allowed his gaze to wander for the first time to the other occupants of the high table. Geoffrey sat, as usual, slumped in his seat with a sullen expression. But next to him sat a young woman. Her figure and hair were covered by a nun's habit, but her pretty face was revealed. His survey halted upon her, struck by the peaceful tranquility that emanated from her petite form. Who was she?

  He didn't have to wait long to find out as Madeline summoned him to the dais whilst the king took his leave.

  Her eyes skimmed over him searchingly and then met his own. He could read such a depth of sorrow there, that he was forced to avert his gaze as her pain was unbearable to him. He returned his attention when her melodious voice broke the silence.

  "You look well, Sir Nathaniel," she said, genuine gladness shining in her voice.

  He was unable to respond.

  "May I present to you Sister Marie Augustine," she continued softly, waving a hand at the young nun. "She will be staying at Marbourne for a short time and it is Lord Endle's wish that you be in charge of her guard."

  Nathaniel flinched at the reminder that he was no longer captain of the Lady's own guard, though he knew it to be due to his own failings.

  "Very well, my Lady," he answered properly, then turned to the nun. "I will endeavour to champion you in whatever you require, Sister," he vowed deferentially.

  A sweet smile transformed the girl’s face and Nathaniel somehow found himself comforted by the gentleness that flowed from her.

  His attention shifted as Madeline spoke again. "We will look forward to watching you participate in the tournament, Sir Nathaniel."

  Memories of the countless times she had watched and cheered for his success during trainings and competitions flooded him, whilst the shame of his recent duel with her, made him weak in the knees.

  "If it pleases the ladies, I will endeavour to triumph this day," he uttered before he strode away.

  Oh, come to me in dreams, my love!

  I will not ask a dearer bliss;

  Come with the starry beams,

  my love, And press mine eyelids

  with thy kiss.

  ~Mary Wollstoncraft Shelley

  CHAPTER 16

  Flags waved from the brightly coloured tents and pavilions that framed the training grounds. As they had been given such little time to make the proper arrangements, this would not have the spectacle of a typical three-day tournament with knights competing from far and wide. This tournament was intended to be a brief showcasing of the impressive fighting skills of the Marbourne knights and primarily, to provide entertainment for the king.

  The autumn day was typical for this time of year, if not uncommonly warm. Madeline looked to the greying sky, praying for the heavy clouds to retain their deluge, at least until after the tournament. Knights pranced by her on their great chargers. Squires ran to and fro carrying helmets and dragging chainmail, which weighed as much as they themselves. Minstrels played in a nearby pavilion, the high treble of their flutes stirring excitement amongst the competitors and audience.

  The tournaments were of great purpose to the knights. In addition to garnering prestige and a sizeable purse from victory, tournaments provided an opportunity to test their mettle and skill in battle. As bouts were fierce between competitors, serious injuries were avoided by dulling the points and edges of their weapons. Lord Endle had planned a simple jousting competition to begin the day's festivities, followed by a pas d'armes in which an individual knight would take on all challengers. He had decreed that all of Marbourne's knights, nearly five score in number, would participate. Thus the fields abounded with flashing armour and gleaming swords.

  As Madeline neared the royal pavilion, King Edward noticed her approach and raised his hand to her. Sending courtiers scattering he summoned her to sit next to him. Lowering herself to the silk covered bench, she folded her hands in her lap and smiled at the king. Edward returned her smile with a languorous grin.

  "Ah, here arrives Sister Marie Augustine," Madeline commented, drawing the king's attention from her to the grey-habited nun who appeared to float towards them in her flowing robes.

  "Have her join us if you wish," Edward offered generously. And Madeline beckoned her over.

  Aileth smiled gently as she greeted Madeline and curtsied to the king. Just as she settled herself, the heralds blasted upon their trumpets, signaling the beginning of the tournament. Knights in full armour, complete with majestic plumage, their horses resplendent in brightly ornamented, flowing caparisons, galloped onto the field. They paraded about to the excitement and amusement of the spectators.

  The king leaned over and spoke quietly to Madeline, "I suppose I must endeavour to keep mine eyes on the tournament and off your fair form."

  Madeline looked away and fidgeted with the edge of her cloak. He chuckled smoothly at her discomfiture.

  "You are right to be wary, Lady Madeline," the king continued as he stroked a finger discreetly along the inside of her wrist. "I intend to have you in my bed by St. Crispin's Day."

  She stared at him in shock at his boldness. She turned her head to see that Aileth had also heard the king's comment and was white as a sheet. She shook her head at the girl and tried to focus on the brilliance of the knights strutting before them.

  Sir Hugh was the first to pull his warhorse up before the royal tent. "A favour, milady?" he begged gallantly, bowing as much as he was able whilst in the saddle and outfitted in full armour. She smiled at him, and to the claps and cheers of the assembled crowd, she pulled a ribbon in Marbourne colours from her sleeve. Sir Hugh lowered his lance and she tied the scrap of cloth securely around the end. When it was fastened, he raised his lance in the air and strutted before the observers who roared in approval.

  Gradually the combatants drained from the field in preparation for the joust to begin. In the last moments before it commenced, a huge destrier thundered onto the field, and reined to a halt before the king's pavilion.

  "Who is this b
loody giant?" she heard Edward question one of his guards under his breath.

  But Madeline could have answered the question the moment the knight's horse put a foot on the turf. It was Nathaniel. As always, he took her breath away. Sitting tall and imposing upon his warhorse, she could imagine him Ares the Greek god of war. She knew the beauty that lay under the armour as well and her heart skipped a beat. She reached to pull the ribbon from her other sleeve but paused as he lowered his lance instead towards Geoffrey's sister.

  The nun flushed a becoming shade of pink, and flustered, sought about her person for some trinket with which to present him. Her austere clothing did not offer anything. Madeline could see the girl becoming more distraught and leaned towards her. "Your veil, Aileth," she whispered.

  The grateful eyes that Aileth turned towards Madeline were reward enough. And she watched the girl blushingly tie the white fabric to Nathaniel's lance. He raised the visor with his other hand, and gave the diminutive nun a cheeky wink. Then, with a chivalrous salute, he hoisted the white-tipped lance in the air. Spinning his destrier expertly, he galloped back off the field.

  "I never..." Aileth trailed off awestruck. Madeline smiled at the girl, though her heart ached.

  "Who was that?" the king startled her with his question.

  "Sir Nathaniel," she answered him. "He is captain of my personal guard," she explained, not seeing a reason to disgrace Nathaniel by divulging details of their recent sword fight.

  "He is as big as a barbarian," the king exclaimed. "Does he fight as well as it appears he would?" he asked.

  "Better," Madeline said proudly and turned her attention to the first of the competitors.

  * * *

  The king had every reason to believe Madeline, when by the end of the competition Nathaniel had sent all of his opponents crashing to the ground with a loud clanging of armour. She caught herself just before she grinned and waved at him when he glanced their way. Instead she clapped politely, though inside she bubbled with pride. Aileth overcame her natural reticence and did gracefully raise her hand in congratulations to her champion. Madeline pushed down an irrational bolt of jealousy as she watched the beginnings of infatuation brighten the girl's face.

  The pas d'armes was fought on the ground, the knights now without the benefit of horses. The event would demonstrate the knight who excelled above the others in swordsmanship and battle skills. It wasn't uncommon for injuries to occur and Madeline clutched at her cloak when she saw Nathaniel was the first to stride out onto the field to challenge all comers, clad only in chainmail. One knight after another joined him on the field, and one after another was sent off in disgrace. A particularly burly knight dealt Nate several powerful blows, but he recovered and sent the man to his knees, his sword resting at the other knight's throat. Before long, he had exhausted the supply of fighters willing to challenge him. And he stood alone, panting in the middle of the field.

  "Well done!" the king cried as he stood up and applauded the winner. "Come and claim your prize, knight."

  Nathaniel approached his sovereign and bowed before him.

  "Very impressive," Edward congratulated as he handed him a pouch, which Madeline knew to be filled with gold coin.

  "Thank you, sire," he said reverently. He bowed again then turned toward Aileth. "And do I receive a prize from you?" he asked flippantly. Before the demure girl knew what was happening, he suddenly leaned over the wooden railing and kissed her resoundingly upon her cheek, whilst his sad eyes searched out Madeline. A thunderous applause reverberated through the crowd of onlookers and Nathaniel nodded considerately at them before he turned and loped off the field.

  Madeline watched him go, her heart in her throat.

  * * *

  The king left early the following morn after securing promises from both the Lord and Lady of Marbourne that they would depart to meet the royal household at Woodstock within the week. Lord Endle was feeling minutely better after two days of bedrest and drinking only bone broth. Madeline had hopes that he would be further recovered by the time it would be necessary to travel. He did manage to join them when they descended to break their fast.

  "How have you been enjoying your time back at Marbourne?" he enquired solicitously of his niece.

  "Very much, uncle," she replied softly. "Though in all the excitement of the king's arrival and the tournament yesterday, I had not time to attend mass or visit the chapel."

  "The priest is at the village chapel today," Lord Endle informed her. "Should you wish to go, simply send a servant to inform Sir Nathaniel."

  "I would like that," his niece agreed.

  After finishing the meal, she assisted Madeline briefly with a few tasks about the keep and then begged her leave. Madeline nodded distractedly at her.

  Aileth gathered her cloak and then, enquiring of a passing servant the whereabouts of Sir Nathaniel, she made her way to the training grounds. Far from the pomp and ceremony of the day before, she found the knights sparring bare-chested and in simple chausses. Having spent her developmental years secluded in a convent, never had she seen a man in such a state and she turned, mortified, to hide her eyes from the sight. As she turned, she spotted her champion from the day before, in the midst of the melee. Her breath caught as she found herself beguiled by the play of muscle in the knight’s thick arms and broad torso. He gleamed with sweat despite the chill of the day and a strange fluttering developed in her belly, a feeling she had never felt before. When he looked up and saw her standing at the edge of the field, he grinned a lopsided smile and her stomach flipped completely over.

  Sir Nathaniel raised a big hand to his opponent, halting him, and he sauntered over to where she stood.

  "Good morning, little nun," he quipped as he joined her.

  Aileth's tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked gently, as if aware of her timidity with him.

  "Nay, I mean, aye," she stuttered. "I was inclined to ride down to the village chapel," she explained. "Yet I can see you are busy," she babbled, much to her dismay.

  "It's no trouble," he soothed her. "Allow me to make myself presentable." He gestured at his bare chest and Aileth felt herself blush furiously. "And I will meet you in the bailey," he continued.

  She nodded and stumbled away as quickly as she could go.

  * * *

  Some minutes later, Aileth paced in the bailey and vowed to regain control of herself. She was anxious now for the peace that came with mass and confession. And when the knight arrived she refused to look at him. She was certain she didn't feel a tiny trill of excitement course through her when he put his hands on her waist to lift her to her horse, nor could she have been disappointed when he politely did not allow them to linger but removed them immediately upon settling her in the saddle.

  Their ride down the hill was silent, broken only by the sound of songbirds in the distance. When they arrived at the small stone chapel, Aileth dismounted her horse before the knight had even put a foot on the ground. She scurried into the church, leaving Sir Nathaniel to follow behind.

  As always, she found herself soothed the moment she stepped through the doors. She lit a candle, then knelt before the altar and began to pray. After many whispered prayers for forgiveness, the priest stepped to her and blessed her, marking her forehead with holy water. By the time the mass was finished, Aileth felt, once again, the sense of peace and tranquility she always took comfort in. Rising up, she passed the knight who stood with folded arms at the back of the chapel. She blinked at the brightness of the day as she exited the dim interior.

  "Perhaps you'd enjoy a ride to reacquaint yourself with the countryside after so many years away?" came a deep voice at her side.

  She looked way up, into the friendly blue eyes of the knight, and whatever hard-won peace she had achieved vanished instantly.

  "I would like that," she answered involuntarily.

  He smiled benignly at her and helped her once again into
the saddle.

  They rode together in companionable silence, until Sir Nathaniel suddenly asked, "When did you join the church?"

  "Oh," she replied with a shy smile. "I haven't taken vows yet, though I will shortly," she added.

  "I see," he replied. "You seem too pretty for the church," he teased, and laughed when she reddened atrociously.

  "Our parents died when Geoffrey and I were young and we came here, as Lord Endle was appointed our guardian. But I always found comfort in the church and so our uncle graciously provided a dowry to the Sisters of our Lady of Mercy and thus I joined them."

  He looked pensive. "Do you ever miss the outside world?" he asked.

  "Sometimes," she admitted softly. "Especially when I see a baby..." she bit off the comment when she realized how inappropriate it was. "Forgive me..." she pleaded.

  "There is nothing to forgive," Sir Nathaniel assured her kindly. "We all long for things we can't have at times." His eyes looked out into the distance and she saw pain flash in them.

  "And you? Do you miss your family now that you are at Marbourne?" she enquired compassionately.

  "I have no family," he answered quietly. "I never knew my father, and my mother died many years ago now."

  "I'm sorry," she answered sadly and she reached across the distance separating them to rest her hand on his forearm. She saw him glance down at her hand and quickly removed it. "How is it that you became a knight?" she changed the subject.

  "It is a long story," he returned. "The simple version is, that as a child, I once saved Lady Madeline from an outlaw. And her father made me squire as reward. Perhaps we should be going now," he said abruptly, kicking his horse up to a trot. Aileth followed behind.

  * * *

  And so, Aileth and Nathaniel found themselves in a routine for the following days. She would arrive at the training grounds to secretly admire him and then he would accompany her to the stone chapel, where she would pray for forgiveness and deliverance from her infatuation with the knight. Somehow her prayers seemed to go unanswered.