Fallen Knight

by Dana D'Angelo

  “His family has wealth —”

  “Forgive me for interrupting, Father. But Sir Hervey has no great riches to speak of. He hopes to gain the wealth from the generous dowry that comes from marrying me.”

  Lord Servian paused, considering her words while a frown creased his forehead. “Fortunes can still be made, since the knight is young and ambitious. He has leadership abilities and men that follow him. With his help, we can drive back the enemy, and perhaps even squash them permanently.”

  “Sir Hervey is not the only man who can lead us to victory.” She paused, uncertain whether she should continue. But something inside her urged her onward. “We can ask Sir Gareth. Amelie has told me that he was a garrison commander for the Iron Hawk —”

  “Sir Gareth will not do,” he said, starting to wheeze again.

  “Then ask Sir Derrik for assistance,” she said desperately. “He is the king’s ambassador, and he even might have enough influence to bend the king’s ear in our favor.”

  He gave a thoughtful look. “I will need to discuss this further with Edgar.”

  “Then our problem is solved,” she said breathlessly, hardly believing that her father was actually listening to her. “I do not have to marry Sir Hervey after all.”

  Her father shook his head slowly and coughed into his fist. “There is a chance that the king will not bother with our squabble, especially since he has his own worries. I am afraid that unless something changes, your marriage will go through as planned.”

  “But he almost violated me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. The hope that she experienced a moment ago plunged to the ground, and tears prickled behind her eyes. “Do you not care for me, your only daughter?” She asked in a small voice, her lips trembling.

  “Once he is married to you, he will have the right of your body.” Her father walked over to her. Leaning over, and in a rare show of affection, he gently touched his lips to her forehead. “We all have to make sacrifices, Clarisse. In marrying Sir Hervey you will ensure that our family and everything we possess are protected.” He pulled back. “I will speak with Sir Hervey in the morning when he is more sober. Perhaps we can assuage his wounded ego, and turn the wheel of fortune until ‘tis once again in our favor.”

  “Lady Fortune has never favored me, Father,” she cried. The desperation inside of her caused her to become reckless, and before she could stop it, her dark secret burst forth. “She stopped favoring me the moment she allowed Roldan de Calmette to rape me.”

  A silence filled the room. Her father stared at her as if she was the one who committed the crime.

  “You lie,” he said finally. “You are only telling me this to sway my decision.”

  “Nay, Father,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. Now that her secret was revealed, there was no going back. “I am telling you the truth.”

  “You give your virtue as easily as a whore.” He adamantly shook his head while denial crossed over his face. “And now you claim that the former Duke of Hargrov had violated you. I’m starting to think that ‘tis you who invited the attentions of Sir Hervey.”

  She stared at her father, stunned at his assertion.

  Could accusations like these be the reason why Helewise had ended her life? “My life is over,” Helewise had said as they left Lady Edeline’s bedchamber.

  “Why did you confess that you willingly bedded with Duke Hargrov?”

  “They will not believe me if I told the truth,” she said, her tone despondent.

  “But if the two of us speak up, then they will be forced to hear our stories.”

  “I was seen with him, Clarisse,” she said, shaking her head angrily. “Do you not understand that? I was seen,” she broke off, her voice choked. “No matter what I say, ‘tis his word against mine. And in the end I will be blamed for enticing him.” She dashed angrily at the tears on her cheek. “I will have the reputation of a common whore, and no noble knight would ever set eyes on me.”

  “But he violated you,” Clarisse said, her voice small.

  “Aye, he violated me and you as well.” Helewise took in a shuddering breath. “But no one has seen you with that monster. You still have a chance. For me, ‘tis too late.” She swallowed and stared at the crack in the stone floor. She looked forlorn, and Clarisse had no way to make her friend feel better.

  “’Tis not too late, Helewise,” Clarisse said, touching her sleeve, attempting to bring her back from her despair. “I know that Lady Edeline will listen to me. I will just reveal —”

  “Nay,” she looked sharply at Clarisse, her eyes burning and intense. “Do not reveal any of this.” When she was satisfied that Clarisse was frightened enough, the sad expression returned to her face. “If you do, your life will be as useless as mine.”

  “Well,” her father’s strained voice penetrated through her dark memories. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Clarisse raised her head, her eyes wide. “I have never invited Sir Hervey’s violent attention upon my person.”

  A conflicted mixture of doubt, anger and sorrow showed on her father’s face. He looked as if he was about to agree with her, but then he coughed in his hand and turned his head. “We will formalize your marriage arrangement in the morning.”

  Chapter 26

  Everything terrible had come true. Clarisse felt sick to her stomach. Once her mother learned about what had happened, she would accuse her of all sorts of heinous deeds. But even if a miracle occurred, and her father decided against the match, rumors would savage her reputation —

  “My lady,” Edith’s soft voice said. She knelt down beside her and took her arm. “You have been sitting here on the cold floor for a very long time. Come to your bed. I have barred the door and Sir —” she stopped herself, “and no one will be able to enter this chamber again.”

  She freed her arm from her nursemaid’s grasp and pushed herself off the floor. There were no longer any tears to be spent. It seemed that she was in a nightmare, and there was no sign that she would ever wake up from it.

  She was almost at the four-poster bed when she spun around and faced her nursemaid. “Do you know where they have taken Sir Gareth, Edith?”

  “’Tis best you forget about that man, my lady,” she said, looking warily at her.

  Clarisse searched her nursemaid’s face, and found the answer that she sought. Edith knew where Gareth was! Why didn’t she think to ask her earlier? “You know that I cannot forget about him,” she said. “I love —”

  “You cannot love him,” Edith interrupted. “You are to wed Sir Hervey.”

  “I am already in love with Sir Gareth,” she said, giving a small shake to her head. She was tired of being told what she could and couldn’t do. “And even if I were to marry another man, my heart will always belong to my love.” She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. “At this moment I need to know that he is all right.”

  Edith closed her eyes. Letting out a long sigh, she raised her gaze to the ceiling. “Why could you not have fallen in love with your intended? ‘Twould have made things easier for everyone.”

  “Well?” she demanded impatiently.

  Edith twisted her mouth with indecision. Then seeing the expression on Clarisse’s face, she blew out a puff of air. “I heard that they threw him outside the castle walls.”

  “In this storm?” Running to the window, she peered out into the darkness. The wind was howling and the rain was hitting against the shutters. He would be out there in the tempest, alone and unprotected from the elements, wild animals and unsavory men. She let out a low moan. “Amelie would never have approved of this inhospitality!”

  Clarisse pushed away from the window. What could she do? She couldn’t go to Amelie and ask for help. Unfortunately her cousin was journeying to the king’s court with her new husband, unaware of the events that occurred here.

  “Sir Edgar did not want him in the castle is what I understand.”

  A helpless anger filled Clarisse’s bod
y. Gareth had done nothing to deserve this ill-treatment. And it was all her fault. She shouldn’t have gone to him and involved him in her dilemma. Now he probably hated her for all the trouble that she brought on his head. The thought of Gareth despising her caused her heart to constrict in pain.

  She swallowed back the lump of despair and her shoulders slumped forward. There was only one thing left to do. Forcing herself to look at her nursemaid, she said, “Edith, rouse a servant and bring me a cup of heated mead.” Her eyes dropped to her feet, unable to meet the nursemaid’s stare. “I fear that I am unwell…”

  Edith clucked her tongue in sympathy. Coming over, she placed a palm on Clarisse’s forehead. “Your head does not feel warm.” Dropping her hand, she said, “I will do as you wish, my lady. A lot has happened in the past hour, and I am certain that a warm drink will do you good.”

  “Thank you,” Clarisse said, trying her best to sound normal but failing to keep the sorrow from her voice.

  Edith threw her a worried look and seemed as if she was about to say something, but Clarisse waved her toward the door. As she trailed behind her nursemaid, a slight pang of guilt twisted at her gut, but she brushed it aside. Then as soon as the older woman passed through the door, Clarisse closed it, sliding the wooden bar in place. The loud sound of wood scraping on wood was unmistakable.

  “My lady?” Edith said, confusion and concern in her voice. Clarisse could hear the nursemaid pushing tentatively against the door. And when the door didn’t yield, she pushed harder at it. “Why have you locked your chamber door?”

  She leaned her forehead against the door, not wanting to answer. Harvey’s violent streak was exposed, and she knew it was only a matter of time that he would use it on her again. Did she really want to live through the same turmoil and suffering that Roldan had caused? If she married Hervey, she would become his property and would forever be at his mercy. And if he exacted his “punishments” on her, she would be far away from her family and friends, and no one would hear her screams.

  “Do not bother yourself with me, Edith. No one else cares about me, so you should not either.”

  “What are you saying?” There was a long pause. And then she ventured cautiously, as if she knew what Clarisse was thinking. “My lady, promise me that you will not harm yourself.”

  But Clarisse didn’t want to make any promises. Harming herself would end all her troubles. Wasn’t that what Helewise did? All the pain from the past as well as the sorrow that awaited her would be gone. At least she had a chance to love. Knowing what she knew now would only make things worse if she married Hervey. She didn’t want to ever mar that feeling of being loved. Nor did she want to tremble in fear over a man’s touch.

  “My lady?” her nursemaid asked, her voice laced with increasing panic. “Answer me!”

  As if she was in a dream, she found herself walking to the table near her bed. Edith placed Clarisse’s belt there so that she could easily find it when she helped her dress in the morning. Fingering the silky rope, she trailed her fingers to the leather sheath and touched the dagger. Did she really want to die? Her hands shook slightly as she slid the blade out of its leather case. She grasped the hilt of the jeweled knife and lifted it up to examine it. Edgar had acquired it from the marketplace, and had given it to her just before she left for Stanbury Castle. It had been in her possession for years, yet it seemed so foreign to her now.

  But it would be so easy to end her life. Everyone would know that she had finally made her choice, that she took control of her situation. Her father and Edgar especially would know how much they had hurt her with their interference.

  “They should have listened to what I desired,” she whispered to the dagger.

  But the blade gleamed back at her, telling her to use it, to let it kiss her flesh. All her problems would be solved, and the pain and sorrow she felt in her heart would disappear for good. It would be a simple act, a quick slit. But then the more sensible side of her weighed in. If she killed herself, any chance of seeing Gareth again would be gone. Forever. Was that what she wanted? Then there would be all the people who she loved and would leave behind…

  “Open the door, my lady!” Edith’s voice began to rise to a higher pitch, desperation now in her voice. She banged her fists against the wooden panel.

  Clarisse walked over to the door so that she didn’t have to raise her voice. “Tell my family that I love them, but they have left me no choice —”

  The banging at the door stopped, and then, “Nay, my lady, don’t do anything foolish. Just wait —” she stopped and then began yelling at the top of her lungs. “Help! You, guard get help!”

  Clarisse heard running footsteps along the corridor and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  She sank to the ground. Any minute now the hallway would be teeming with people.

  And there it was. Metal scraped across the stone floor as hurried feet came racing in the direction of her bedchamber. There was confusion on the other side of the wooden panel, which was then followed by a loud banging, as if a body slammed against the barrier. But Clarisse knew that the door was of solid oak, and unless they got a battering ram inside the narrow corridor, they would be unsuccessful in breaking it down.

  Minutes passed. She didn’t know exactly how long she sat, holding the knife in her hand. But the dagger winked temptingly at her. It was brought back from the Crusades. The handle was a smooth ivory and one large amber stone sat in the middle. The steel blade itself was honed to a sharpness that could slice through a man’s skin without much resistance. She had already proved how effective it was when she used it on the drunkard at the Fox Trail Inn —

  “Come out at once, Clarisse.” She jerked her head up and stared at the door, at once recognizing Hervey’s unmistakable voice. “You need to stop this foolishness, and for once think about others.”

  Think about others? All her life she thought about others. She served them, and tried her best to make them happy. And now look where that had gotten her.

  “Go away!” she shouted, her voice ringing loudly in the empty chamber.

  She wondered why Hervey bothered to come back. If anything, knowing that he was outside her chamber gave her more reason to stay inside. She could tell by his tone that he disapproved of her latest behavior; he was likely relishing the moment when he would punish her again.

  Still, there was no doubt that she had humiliated and hurt Hervey. Until she provoked him, he was never deliberately cruel toward her. At times, he irritated her with his narcissistic musings, but mostly he treated her well. And until a few hours ago, she had no reason to hate him.

  Some more movement sounded on the other side of her door now. Likely they were discussing how they were going to get her out of the bedchamber. But perhaps she might never leave this room alive…

  Picking the dagger up again, she held it to the light. A ray of morning sun, which escaped through the shutters struck the blade, splintered the light in all directions. “You can end it now,” it seemed to whisper to her. “’Tis so easy to do…”

  And it was easy to do. With one act, she would no longer wake up at night in a cold sweat, fearing that Roldan would seek her out once more. And most of all, she would join Helewise in the heavenly realm, free to frolic in a place that was devoid of all pain and sorrow.

  But even as she contemplated these dark thoughts, another forceful, more demanding voice commanded that she stop hiding from her troubles. Wasn’t this what Gareth had told her earlier? By running away, or even by locking herself up in this chamber, she was acting the coward. And she would be an even bigger coward if she ended her life. She was older now, she reminded herself. And she was no longer that helpless girl.

  A sudden hope began to flood into her body. There was only one solution to her dilemma —

  “Open up, Clarisse!”

  She cocked her ears, the dagger forgotten. Could that be him?

  Chapter 27

  “He looks like that knight who was in the kitc
hen,” a high-pitched voice said, entering into Gareth’s consciousness. He opened one eye and saw two shadowy figures standing over him before he promptly closed it again.

  “I don’t care who he is. We need him to move; he’s lying right in front of the mushroom patch. Cook will have our heads if we return empty-handed.”

  “What should we do?” the squeaky voice boy asked worriedly. “Do we just roll him aside?”

  “Aye,” replied his friend. “I’ll take one foot and you grab the other.”

  “Leave me alone,” Gareth mumbled. He lifted his arm in an attempt to block out the light shining on his eyelids. Little by little, he became conscious of his surroundings: the incessant chatter of birds overhead, and the leaves rustling somewhere nearby as some animal scurried through the underbrush.

  The shorter boy jumped at the sound of his voice.

  “S — sorry for waking you, sire. It seems that you’re lying in front of a very good patch of mushrooms.”

  “Cook will beat us if we return without them.”

  Gareth rolled over with a groan. “Couldn’t you have waited until I woke up?”

  He pushed himself to a seated position. It was impossible to remain asleep, especially with all this nattering. As soon as he moved out of the way, the young servants fell upon the mushrooms. Gareth turned around and looked at the looming castle wall not to far from where he slept. And then the events of last night came crashing back.

  But it was a new day, and for once he felt at peace with himself. His thoughts drifted to Clarisse. Suddenly he broke out into a smile. She was the cause for this change, this joy. And if he let her go without a fight, then he was a fool.

  The first item of order was for him to see Lord Servian again and reason with the man. And if need be, he would seek audience with the king. After all, the king had pardoned him when he assisted Derrik in bringing Roldan de Calmette to heel. With these thoughts, his spirits lifted. The monarch might be obliged enough to hear him out. Now his only problem was to get back into the castle. A guard stood at the gates, and there was a chance that he might question Gareth before letting him enter. The quality of his tunic alone would raise too many questions, questions that would not give him passage into the castle.