Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  When he broke away from the electrifying contact, Estella felt the warmth being withdrawn as if a servant had opened the shutters, and let the cold air inside. Estella let out her breath in a rush, suddenly aware that she had been holding it.

  This man was dangerous. That much she could tell, and she suppressed an urge to shudder.

  His eyes wandered over to her sisters who sat beside her. Estella watched as he looked briefly at Marguerite, her youngest sister, before settling his gaze on Alys. She couldn’t blame the stranger for admiring her younger sisters. Alys, in particular, was light haired, petite and blessed with an angelic beauty that drew men to her side. She was the very image of their mother. Marguerite on the other hand possessed darker looks, although she was equally as beautiful.

  “I will have the golden haired one,” the large knight said.

  Estella’s heart skipped a beat. Did she hear him correctly? He wanted to take Alys away from Cedwick Castle? A protective instinct surged into her chest. “Nay, my sister will stay where she is,” she said, her voice carrying across the now muted hall. “I will go in her stead.”

  She ignored the panicked gasps coming from her sisters.

  The dark knight’s piercing gaze returned to Estella, assessing her once more as if she was an overlooked gem. His perusal of her made her blush again and she cursed her fair skin. She jutted out her chin in defiance. The least attractive of her sisters, she knew very well that she paled in comparison to them. She inherited many of her father’s features from the high cheekbones, straight nose and sharp jaw. Her best assets were her eyes, which was the color of the blue–green sea. Her hair unfortunately was a curly red mass with a touch of gold. Her hair color and her looks were all wrong and didn’t hold well to the current fashions.

  “So be it,” he nodded in agreement. “Any one of you will do.” He then turned and continued toward the dais.

  Her father watched as the dark knight approached. He folded his arms across his chest. However, instead of appearing brave and defiant, he looked as if he wanted the stone floor to crack open and swallow him up.

  “I cannot allow you to have Estella,” he said as the knight came closer. “She’s my eldest daughter and she helps me run my affairs.”

  “We made a bargain,” the knight said. He pinned her father with a cold stare. “Do you intend to honor it?”

  Estella went still. Her father didn’t mention making any bargains with anyone. And her father told her everything. There was more going on here than she realized. Somehow he had made a pact with the devil and offered one of his daughters as payment?

  Alys tugged at her arm again, this time harder. “Estella,” she hissed urgently. “Sit down!”

  Marguerite edged closer to Alys, staring at the two strange men, her face filled with a mixture of fear and alarm.

  Estella narrowed her eyes at the confrontation, watching the men thoughtfully. “I need to know the details of this agreement they made,” she said in a low voice.

  Suddenly the dark haired knight turned to his companion and nodded to Estella, “Bring the red haired one over to me, Ulric,” he said.

  The knight nodded and walked over to Estella. He had a serious, determined glint in his eyes, but compared to his friend, he seemed almost pleasant. He beckoned her to move from her seat and follow him. But when she didn’t move immediately, he moved closer, his intentions to haul her out of her seat quite clear on his face.

  She stopped him with a withering stare. “Do not dare touch me,” she said.

  “Come peaceably, my lady,” Ulric said, “Neither of us came here to cause trouble.”

  She looked around the hall, observing all the upturned, anxious faces. “‘Tis too late for that,” she said suddenly feeling violated by the turn of events. She had no idea what she would tell the castle inhabitants to assuage their worries and prevent them from gossiping. She liked to keep the family affairs private but now this spectacle was being acted out for all to see.

  She glanced at her father. His face was pinched with fear and outrage, each emotion at war with one another. Sir Etienne too looked uncertain as to what he should do about the two large strangers in the hall. If he called for his men to rise up against them, innocent lives would be at risk. And besides, he knew that none of his men had their weapons at their disposal. Her father forced his men to surrender their weapons at the door before each meal. And judging by the look on his face, he regretted this decision.

  The dark stranger loomed over him.

  Estella reluctantly got up, and Alys made a move to follow her. But the guard shook his head. “Just her,” he said.

  Alys narrowed her eyes at him but wisely kept silent.

  Estella made her way down from the raised platform, acutely aware of the curious stares.

  She approached Gavin who stood between her and her father. “May I have a few words with my father, kind sir?”

  Gavin stepped aside, granting her request.

  Estella gazed up at her father. “Father,” she said. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes and instead played with a piece of string that stuck out at the sleeve of his dark green tunic. “Tell me that this is all a jest,” she gestured to the two knights, “and these men are here only to provide entertainment on a dreary winter’s night.”

  Her heart sank when minutes passed by and her father still had not answered her.

  “This is not a jest,” the dark stranger said finally, cutting into the silence. “I saved your father’s life, and in exchange he consented to give away one of his daughters to me. And since you volunteered yourself, I’ll take you to be my wife.”

  Estella shook her head, trying her best to remain calm. “I have not heard of this bargain. Sir…?” She looked inquiringly at him. “Forgive me. In all this excitement, I have forgotten your name.”

  “Sir Gavin of Ashburn. Also known as Sir Gavin the Bold,” he answered. “And this is my commander, Sir Ulric de Troville.”

  Ulric gave her a mocking bow.

  A vague memory triggered in her mind. “Sir Gavin the Bold? Your name sounds familiar,” she said. Then her eyebrows knitted with skepticism, her eyes scanning his rugged features. “I have not heard of this knight for many years now. ‘Tis thought that he has retired or is dead.”

  “None of that is true, I assure you.”

  Estella twisted her lips, a doubtful expression lingering on her face. “Well, Sir Gavin, Father confides everything to me and not once has he mentioned this agreement that you speak of.” She turned to her father, and lifted an eyebrow. “Father?”

  “I don’t remember the details of our exchange,” her father said, his eyes blinking rapidly.

  “How convenient of you to forget so that you don’t have to uphold your end of the bargain,” Ulric said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “The entire day felt like a blur…” her father explained weakly, his mouth curved downward as his eyebrows began to furrow.

  “Then let me refresh your memory once again,” Gavin said. “You promised that I could have anything.” He nodded to Estella. “And she is what I want.”

  Her father waved a hand over his brow before closing his eyes briefly, as if trying to recall the past events, or to shield her from the truth. She could forgive that her father might be forgetful except she knew he had an excellent memory. He could recall every manner of drink stored in the buttery without referring to the parchment that the butler drew up every year. He knew exactly how many geese were raised within the castle grounds. So the thought that her father could be lying — that single thought struck her like a fist to her stomach.

  Her mother had died three years earlier, and Estella suspected that her death had affected her father profoundly. He should have remarried and tried to produce a son after the required mourning period. But he kept putting it off and brushing off Estella’s concerns. “I have enough children,” he had said. “Any wealth I have will be divided among my three daughters and their husbands.”

  Y
et he still wanted to ensure that they had a good future. He instructed Bess to drill into their head the ideals of family honor and respectability. Without a good family reputation, they were told their prospects for the future were dim. They came from a well respected line of nobles but they were not royalty.

  If her father’s words could no longer be trusted, then all that he taught her was a lie.

  And on top of that, her sisters’ marriage opportunities would be endangered. What high ranking, respectable nobleman or knight would willingly marry into a family that lacked honor, and was shunned by their peers?

  Unable to hold back her dismay and disappointment, the dark emotions lashed at her like an unrelenting winter storm. “When were you going to tell us about this bargain you made, Father?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  His eyes dropped to his lap. “I don’t recall everything that happened that day.” He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a small sigh. Then he looked at her, holding out his palms, pleading for her understanding. “The gang of outlaws and robbers — they ambushed me. I don’t —”

  “We saved you from sure death and that ‘tis all that matters.” Ulrich interjected, a slight edge to his voice.

  Sir Etienne shook his head emphatically. “‘Twas my men who arrived to scare them away.” he said

  Estella knitted her eyebrows. “Please tell me what you recall, Sir Etienne?”

  Sir Etienne cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably at his master. “At our approach I saw the outlaws scatter into the woods. These two men were with your father.”

  Her father looked visibly relieved. “Clearly Sir Etienne and the guards are the ones who scared them away.”

  “You lie,” Ulric said, his voice turning ugly. He took a threatening step forward.

  Her father shrank back, the blood draining from his face.

  Gavin put a restraining hand on his friend. “You know very well that ‘tis not how it happened, my lord.”

  The wood crackled loudly in the large fireplace, making the silence in the hall more apparent.

  Her father looked down at the lower tables, realizing that every single person had his or her eyes trained on him. He abruptly grasped the edge of the trestle table and pulled himself up. “How dare you question my integrity,” he said, his voice shaking with indignation. “You come into my home and insult me. I can have my men assembled and ready to defend my name in less time than you can blink. Then we shall see how courageous you really are.”

  “I welcome it,” said Ulrich, a challenging gleam reflecting in his eyes. He drew his sword from his belt. “‘Twould be just like old times wouldn’t you say, Gavin?”

  “Aye, but this is different,” Gavin replied. He turned to Estella’s father, his voice grave, “My lord, I do not wish to harm you or your men over your inability to keep your word. But I’ll do what I must.”

  The two knights stood motionless as if they were waiting for the right moment to spring into combat. The air that surrounded the hall crackled with tension. To her left, her sisters nervously watched them, clutching at each other in fear. Bess, the nursemaid sat beside them, her eyes looking heavenwards, her hands pressed in fervent prayer.

  Estella had to do something fast or all hell would break loose. She reached over and touched the stranger’s arm. A muscle twitched underneath her palm but he didn’t draw his arm away. “Please, sire, my father is an honorable man. Do not disgrace him like this in front of the castle inhabitants.” She paused, and looked at the curious faces watching them. She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Your accusations unfairly besmirch our family name, and you put my sisters’ futures at considerable risk.”

  “Your family’s reputation would not be questioned if your father honored what he said.”

  Her father’s nostrils flared.

  Estella’s eyes darted from the stranger to her father in near panic. “Please, sire,” she said quickly. “‘Tis late and everyone is tired and on edge.” She gestured to the high table. “My sisters and I will move to the lower tables, so please, be our guests tonight, and we shall resolve this tomorrow when tempers have simmered down. Can we agree on a truce,” she looked straight into his eyes even though her heart hammered in her rib cage, “at least for tonight?”

  The massive knight stared at her long and hard, as if assessing her true intentions. Then finally he nodded. “Aye,” he said. “We shall resolve this matter tomorrow before the priest.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “‘Tis unbelievable,” Alys said. Her brows furrowed in worry. “Are you certain that this is what happened?”

  Estella looked up from her embroidery. She had stitched and plucked at the same line so many times that the silk cloth she held resembled a servant’s rag. It was near impossible for her to focus on the fine stitching, especially since the stranger’s rugged countenance kept intruding into her thoughts.

  His hair was a dark mahogany that reached almost to his shoulders. It swept over his head in an unkempt manner. His eyebrows contrasted and framed his piercing blue eyes, the same eyes that seemed as if they could see through to her soul. The almost imperceptible twitch in his jaw muscle was the only reason she could break away from his hypnotic gaze. If he didn’t clench his jaw with such ferociousness she might have thought that he was actually a handsome man.

  She let out a sigh. “They are not here as a part of an elaborate jest. They mean to take one of us, and ‘tis better me than one of you.”

  Alys got up from her stool, and began to pace the floor of the small solar. It was a place that hid them from prying eyes. She rubbed her arms as if trying to warm herself from the sudden chill of her words. “I would have liked it better if he did not take any of us.” She stopped her pacing and turned to face Estella. “Could there not be some other way to repay him for saving Father’s life?”

  “Perhaps Lord Cedwick could offer him a sack of gold coins,” Bess said, looking up from a book that she was reading. “That should satisfy any man and make him leave us alone.”

  “I do not think he wants money,” Estella said, letting out another weary sigh. “He said as much. And besides, the crops did poorly this harvest, and we did not make much profit. Even the sales of the birds have not done well this year. Indeed we may only have enough money to survive the winter and no more.”

  Bess lowered the book to her lap and gave her a slight frown. “You worry too much, my lady,” she said. “Your father is home to attend to the estate. He also has the assistance of the steward. You should leave those affairs to the men.”

  “I would if I trusted that they knew what they were doing,” Estella said, her voice filled with frustration. “But I am not talking about the estate affairs. I am talking about this night’s events. I have never seen Father so afraid of another man.” She frowned as she recalled her father’s behavior. “He may no longer be in the prime of his youth; however he once trained as a knight…”

  “A training that was incomplete as you recall,” Alys interjected. “He is the middle son of a Marquis and only knows his way around socially and politically. He could not possibly defend himself against a band of outlaws when he relies on others to fight for him.”

  “‘Tis true what you say, Alys,” Estella said. “Father was never one for fighting. Still something happened that day the outlaws attacked, and he is not intent on telling us what transpired.”

  “Do you think he made that agreement with Sir Gavin the Bold?” Marguerite asked.

  Alys nodded. “Aye,” she said. “Father made an agreement that day. That is clear enough, because why would these two knights show up wanting their payment?”

  “And if he pledged to give one of us away in marriage, then he must keep his word,” Estella said. “Bess, was it not you who taught us that honor and loyalty in a family is most valued in our noble circle?”

  “‘Tis the ideal that your father wanted instilled in your studies,” Bess replied cautiously.

  “Then would you not say that if we lost o
ur integrity, we would have nothing else to offer aside from the little wealth that we have? There are three of us, and many more maidens who are in the same position, vying for a wealthy lord’s attention and protection.” The silk embroidered cloth crumpled in her fist. “Our family honor is at stake, Bess. Do you or do you not agree that Father should stand by his word?”

  “Lord Cedwick should be true to his word,” she said slowly, “however I do not like your proposal.”

  “I will listen if someone else has a better solution out of this mess.”

  “What if we all run away to the abbey?” Marguerite asked. “The nuns will surely take us under their wings, and protect us from those fiends.”

  Estella shook her head. “Even the nuns require compensation, and there are three of us to feed and clothe. Nay, our presence there would put unnecessary burden on the abbey.”

  “Will you go ahead with this marriage then?” Alys demanded. She began to pace the floor again. “You are eighteen — only one year older than I. You would sacrifice your life, your future for us? I know your dream is not to go with some strange knight that appears out of no where, and demands that you marry him.”

  “Do you think I have a choice?” Estella asked, her voice sounding harsher than she intended. She swallowed hard, her eyes falling to her lap. “‘Tis for the best.” A tear splashed on her hand, and she hastily wiped it away before anyone noticed. She took out the medallion that hung beneath her tunic and clutched at it. “I promised Mother that I would look out for both of you. And even if she did not ask me of it, I would still do it.”

  Estella took a deep breath. After a moment when she finally found her composure, she looked up at her younger siblings. “You are my sisters and I love you both,” she said fiercely. “‘Tis better that I go than have one of you suffer at the hands of that monster. As far as I can see, ‘tis the only solution.”

  “Well, I do not like this plan either,” Alys said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Father got us involved in this disaster, and I think he should very well get us out.”