Fallen Knight

by Dana D'Angelo

  “I did not ask for this burden!”

  “Nay, some burdens are thrust upon us.” He again looked down at his crippled leg before he raised his eyes to hers and held it. “You must behave appropriately so that you do not jeopardize the marriage arrangement.”

  “Perhaps I do not wish to carry the burdens thrust upon me,” she said stubbornly. “There has to be other options that we have not explored.”

  “If there were other options, I’m certain both our father and Edgar would have discussed it.”

  “Why do you interfere in my concerns?”

  “You are my only sister, and I care for your welfare,” he said, the expression on his face softening.

  Clarisse crossed her arms tightly across her chest. She knew that he was trying to make her feel ashamed.

  “If you cared for me, you would speak on my behalf,” she said. “I have already revealed to you how much I loathe the thought of marrying Sir Hervey.”

  He opened his mouth as if to argue with her and possibly launch into another lecture, but she had heard enough. With aggravation and frustration mounting with each passing second, she pushed him aside. Her brother lost his balance, his arms flailing in the air before he stumbled and fell to the ground.

  “My lady!” Edith exclaimed, running over to them. She stared at Clarisse as if she had suddenly sprouted horns on her head. Bending down at Geoffrey’s side, she grabbed his arm to help him up. “Are you hurt, sire?”

  “Nay,” he said, brushing her hands aside, but he fixed Clarisse with an annoyed look. “Why did you push me?” he asked.

  She looked down at him, horrified at what she had done.

  “I want you to stop meddling in my life,” she said finally. This was the truth, and she felt the hot flush of anger rise to her cheeks.

  Geoffrey rolled to one side and started to push himself up off the ground. But Clarisse didn’t wait for him to stand. She spun around and took off across the courtyard. With his bad leg, she knew that he would never be able to catch up to her.

  The chickens squawked in protest as she raced past them, their wings flapping and feet kicking dust into the air.

  “Wait, my lady!” Edith yelled from several paces behind her. “Slow down! I’m not a young woman who can keep up with you!”

  But Clarisse was too angry to take pity on her nursemaid. She picked up her skirts and ran even faster.

  When she finally made it to her bedchamber, she leaned on the door, breathing hard.

  A few minutes later, she heard Edith trying to push the door open. And when the door wouldn’t budge, her nursemaid began to bang weakly on it.

  “My lady, open this door at once!” she called, her breathing loud and harsh.

  “’Tis not barred,” Clarisse said, moving away from the door. She unclasped her cloak and threw it on the bed before she walked over to the window on the other side of the chamber.

  The sun was beginning to fade, and soon darkness would encompass them all.

  Edith pushed at the door once again, and burst into the room. She folded both hands over her chest, her breath coming out harshly. “I cannot believe that you would make an old woman run after you like this,” she panted as she closed the bedchamber door.

  “You told Geoffrey about Sir Gareth,” Clarisse said, turning to face her nursemaid. She allowed the anger from within to flood her entire body. The surge was quick and fierce. “Who else have you told?”

  Her nursemaid’s steps faltered as a mortified flush appeared on her face. “I —”

  “You have betrayed me, Edith. Is it not enough that my noble parents are angry with me? Now you have turned Geoffrey against me as well.”

  “I saw that you were getting too familiar with that knight; it needs to stop. There are rumors —”

  “I do not care to hear about rumors, especially the ones that you spread. Unless I hear it from Sir Gareth’s own lips, I cannot believe what others say.”

  “Well you should listen to the rumors, my lady.” Edith bunched her fists and placed them at her hips. “Everyone knows of what happened with Sir Gareth. A knight’s chivalric code was created for a reason, and that was to keep the knights honorable and true to their purpose. If a warrior spurns the ways of a knight then he should no longer be considered a knight, nor should he be seen as a savior. He is in league with the scum and villains of the earth. Knights that lie are the worst people, for you can never trust their word, and cannot count on them to protect you in times of trouble.” She walked over to the bed and picked up the cloak that Clarisse had tossed. “There are many people here at this wedding feast, if you haven’t noticed. They are watching you closely, and any false move on your part will have them gossiping about you.” She folded the cloak over her arm and looked at her. “You must stay away from Sir Gareth if you care for your reputation. He has the stench of scandal surrounding him, and that stench will stick on you if you insist on interacting with him.”

  “Sir Gareth has not done any harm to me. You have seen for yourself that he has always been courteous and kind toward me. Would you have me treat him unjustly just because others think ill of him?”

  Her nursemaid pinched her lips to show her displeasure. But Clarisse already knew her answer, and that knowledge made her feel sick to her stomach. If anyone ever found out about her rape, she knew she would be condemned for it. And then she would have to make a difficult choice — to face the accusations, or to follow the same path that Helewise had taken.

  Chapter 15

  Clarisse glanced over her shoulder, making certain that no one followed her. She would have stayed in her bedchamber until supper except the hunting party had returned, and Edith was called away to assist Lady Chantal with her injured falcon. Her nursemaid had many talents, and treating injured animals was one of them.

  With her nursemaid distracted, Clarisse took the opportunity to go back to the garden once again. Her dark and damp bedchamber was too depressing, and it didn’t take much to persuade herself that she was better off spending time in Lady Edeline’s tranquil refuge. She knew that Edith would find her soon enough, and a few moments of peace was worth the price of a scolding. She followed the path toward her favorite bench. The sun was high in the sky, but she knew that the wall of roses that surrounded the bench provided excellent shade.

  However, when she reached the bench, she found that someone was already occupying the seat. But her disappointment quickly changed to something else when she discovered that it was Gareth who sat there. With her heart thudding away, she made a move to leave before he noticed her. She had every intention to exit quietly, to leave him to his business, but for some inexplicable reason her feet marched forward instead.

  “Gareth, ‘tis surprising to find you here,” she said, barely hearing her own voice over the rapid tempo of her heart.

  He looked up at her, his eyes glazed, as if he was lost in thought. He blinked a couple of times before he quirked a questioning brow.

  “Should you not be accompanied by your nursemaid?” he asked. “After all the chaos that occurred when you went missing, I would think that the old woman should keep a closer eye on you.”

  “I might have told her that I was coming to the garden,” she shrugged. “Except her services are needed elsewhere. Once she is finished with her task of helping my mother, I am certain that she will seek me out. Until then, I have time to be alone.”

  “In case you have not noticed, you are not alone.”

  Something in his tone rankled her, since she didn’t relish being reminded that she possessed little freedom.

  “You have a keen sense of observation, sire,” she said, a sarcastic edge lacing her voice.

  He moved to get up.

  A moment of alarm shot through her and she caught his arm. “Forgive me, I did not mean to be rude.” With Amelie leaving tomorrow, Gareth was her only ally; she couldn’t afford to have him turn his back on her. Fumbling for something — anything — to say, she blurted the first thing that came t
o her mind, “’Tis wise of you to come here in search for peace,” she said. “I usually come here myself to get away from my troubles.”

  He grunted and settled back in the bench, not really agreeing one way or another with her. He held a leather flask in his hand and tipped the opening to his lips.

  “What troubles does an innocent maid like you need to get away from?”

  “’Tis nothing that you would be interested in hearing,” she said slowly.

  She stood there a moment, torn in deciding whether she should leave or stay.

  He looked up at her once again. “Sit,” he said, patting the spot beside him.

  She glanced over her shoulder, almost as if she expected Edith to emerge from between the bushes. But when her nursemaid didn’t appear, she moved forward and sat down next to him.

  The corner his mouth quivered ever so slightly when he saw that she positioned herself as far away from him as possible. That tiny smile caused her stomach to flutter, and for some inexplicable reason she wanted to sit with him and prolong their conversation.

  Grasping at the first thing that came to her mind, she said, “Why are you here, Sir Gareth?” When he turned his dark eyes onto her, she felt heat spreading across her cheeks. “I mean, why did you come to the wedding? You do not look like you are enjoying the festivities. In fact you look like you would rather be somewhere else.”

  “You’re right about that,” he said, sounding bored. He raised his eyes to the top of the elm tree that sat at the corner of the garden. He didn’t seem like he was going to say anything more, and Clarisse regretted that she intruded on his privacy.

  She got up to go. “I should leave you to —”

  “I’m here as a favor to Derrik.” He then turned to look at her. “Now ‘tis my turn to ask a question. Why are you here? As far as I can see, you are not enjoying the festivities either.”

  “I am expected to attend,” she said. “Lady Amelie is my cousin, and I worked here as her mother’s attendant for many years. But you are right. I am not keen on being here. In fact I am not keen on weddings at all.”

  “Then we have that in common.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked again and she stared at it. The last time, they were so close to kissing. All the feelings that she felt that day resurged within her breast. If he were to lean over just a little, and try to kiss her again, would she let him? One side of her gave an emphatic yes, while the other side was hesitant.

  She tore her gaze away from his mouth. “I suppose that since we are here, we should enjoy the tranquility that this garden offers. There is time enough for noise and merriment when we return to the festivities.”

  Gareth made a sound of agreement. He turned back to the flagon of wine in his hand, and raised his eyes to the trees. When she looked at his point of interest, she discovered a mother bird hovering over her young as she tried to feed them.

  Off in the distance, there were sounds of hammering and people talking. And though she could see the top of the chapel peeking over the garden walls, it seemed as if the garden itself was located in another realm. And if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was alone with Gareth. It seemed strange that even though they didn’t speak, the silence was comfortable, and it felt as if she had known him her entire life. Yet, she sensed that he wanted to be alone, and good graces should have made her leave him to his privacy. But he looked so forlorn, and the soft part of her heart wanted to reach out to him.

  “I am glad that I have found a friend in you,” she said, breaking the silence.

  He looked at her, his eyes unreadable, and she regretted that she revealed her vulnerability. Suddenly she felt foolish, and a hot blush stained her cheeks. “Never mind that I said that.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wishing that she stayed in the dank bedchamber after all.

  “You wouldn’t want me as your friend,” he said. “’Tis best that you stay away from me.”

  His rough words went through her like an arrow, shocking her. She unconsciously placed a hand over her heart as his rejection hit her.

  “Why do you despise me?” she cried, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. “Is it because I refused to let you kiss me earlier?”

  “Despise you?” he repeated. “Nay, I don’t despise you.” He paused, and she saw the corners around his eyes soften. Then something akin to sympathy crossed over his countenance. “My reputation will only smear your good name if you’re ever seen with me.”

  “I do not care about your reputation,” she said, his words appeasing her slightly. “I only want to offer you my friendship.”

  He stared at her silently for a long moment, as if assessing if she meant what she had said. Then he shrugged. “I don’t need any more friends.” Suddenly he got up, and offered her his hand. “Walk with me, Clarisse,” he said.

  His abrupt command surprised her, but nevertheless, she gave him her hand. As soon as they touched, his warmth encased her. And a strange yet familiar and pleasant sensation rippled through her body. He must have felt it too because a bemused expression briefly touched his face.

  “’Tis surprising that you are unmarried.” she said, attempting to fill the silence. She bent down and plucked a red rose from a nearby bush.

  “There is no need for me to marry.” He took a sip from his flask. Then holding it up in front of her, he said, “Do you see this? All the joy I need is right here in this vessel.”

  “I do not think very highly of marriage either,” she said, eyeing the flagon of wine. “Although I might take your advice, and take up drinking.” She began to pick off a thorn from the stem of the rose.

  “So they failed to convince you that you should marry Sir Hervey.”

  “How did —” His blunt question surprised her, and her finger slipped, the small thorn piercing her skin.

  “Ow,” she said, dropping the rose.

  Gareth shoved the container in between his belt, and pulled her hand toward him. “Let me take a look,” he said.

  And when she felt the pad of his rough palm touching her, her skin began to tingle with a strange heat. She immediately tried to snatch her hand away, but he held it fast.

  “The thorn was not sharp enough to pierce your flesh,” he observed, before closing her hand gently into a fist. Then bending down, he picked up the flower. “Perhaps next time, you should be more wary of thorns.”

  She looked down at her hand still enclosed in his. It felt warm, almost comforting, and the sting from the thorn no longer hurt.

  Looking at the surface, he was a hardened warrior, but underneath the exterior, he possessed a gentle, caring nature. From the moment she met him, he seemed to know what she thought, how she felt. It was puzzling that even though she had only met him a few days ago, it seemed as if she had known him forever. There was a connection between them that went beyond words. And for the hundredth time, she wondered why Hervey couldn’t be more like Gareth.

  “It seems to me that you are unhappy with this marriage arrangement,” he continued.

  Clarisse was unable to meet his eyes. She had tried telling her family this, but they were unable to understand. Yet a man who she just met understood how unhappy she really was. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She had never looked at his eyes so closely, but she felt that she could drown in their depths. They were dark brown, almost black. And he was looking at her as if he really cared to know what she thought.

  “Am I correct, Clarisse?”

  “Aye,” she whispered. “A woman of my stature has no choice in the matter.”

  The sympathy in his eyes made her vision cloud, and she blinked rapidly in an attempt to gain control of her emotions.

  “Everyone has choices,” he said, snapping all the thorns from the rose stem before tucking it behind her right ear. “You may not always realize what your choices are at the time.”

  Everyone has choices. This idea surprised her. All her life she was taught that she had lit
tle choice but to follow the dictates of her elders. But before she could reflect upon the concept further, the sound of her nursemaid’s voice shattered the afternoon stillness.

  “Lady Clarisse?” Edith called. “Where are you?”

  She looked over in the direction of her nursemaid’s voice, which was just beyond the garden enclosure. Sighing, she said, “My time is finished here. ‘Twould seem that Edith is looking for me.” She was about to take a step forward when she spun around. “I hope to see you again at supper.”

  “I don’t plan —” he stopped, but then he nodded his head. “Aye, I will see you then.”

  Chapter 16

  Hervey walked to stand in front of the dais. He looked around the great hall, a charismatic smile playing on his face. Sir Gordon cued the musicians to stop playing their instrument. And then little by little, the noise died down.

  “I wish to make a toast,” Hervey said loudly, his smooth voice melodic, almost hypnotizing. Satisfied that he had gained the complete attention of the guests, he raised his goblet in the air. “To Sir Gareth,” he continued, his tone mocking. “A man who single-handedly found Lady Clarisse…”

  A splattering of clapping sounded among the lower tables. Clarisse’s stomach clenched with an inner knowledge that this speech was not as innocent as it appeared. It was too much to hope that Hervey would end his mockery. But her suitor now commanded everyone’s attention, and even her father and Sir Gordon made no attempt to interfere.

  “…and saved her from the hell fires of the castle kitchen!” Hervey said.

  A roar of laughter rang all around her

  Meanwhile Gareth watched the proceedings, his face as hard as granite. He pinned Hervey with a stare that should have caused the other man to tremble.

  All at once an awful thought occurred to her. Was Hervey trying to punish Gareth for defending her earlier? A groan then echoed in her mind. Gareth was going to hate her.

  Grasping the edge of the table, she pushed herself up. “Sir Hervey, please —” But her voice was lost in the noise and prattle.