The Rogue Knight

by Vaughn Heppner

  Alice’s mouth dropped open. “You?” she asked in surprise. “The armor is for you?”

  “My father was a knight.”

  She snorted softly and shook her head. “Cord. Cord. You can’t believe you can simply become a knight by wearing armor and holding a lance.”

  “I will be a knight,” Cord said stubbornly. “Come what may, I will be a knight.”

  “No, Cord. We must think rationally.”

  “I slew Sergeant Reynard.”

  “Yes, with our help.”

  Cord’s face turned red again, with anger this time. “Help?” he asked.

  “I sliced Reynard’s neck and Henri stunned him with his throwing dagger.”

  “Bah! I would have slain him anyway. I alone defeated Sergeant Reynard.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Alice asked in disbelief.

  Cord stood up. He knew he shouldn’t be this angry. “I’ll be a knight, Alice de Mowbray. I’ve already rescued you from bondage, a knight-errant deed. Normally a maiden would be grateful for such a rescue.”

  “I am.”

  “Maidens, I’ve heard, know how to show such gratitude.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Cord made an angry sound as he gestured sharply.

  “No, speak your mind, Cord. Tell me what you’re saying.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Rhys said from the fire. His wife Gwen made an urgent coughing sound and tried to signal him to remain silent. Rhys ignored her as he said, “Cord obviously rescued you, milady, so he could marry you. Are you too blind to understand?”

  Alice’s eyes widened. “Is this true?” she asked Cord.

  Cord shrugged.

  “But you’re a dog boy,” she said.

  “No longer,” Cord said tightly, his anger surging anew. “After last night I’ve become a squire.”

  “A squire?” Alice asked. “Whose squire? You can’t just be a squire by saying so. You have to be the squire of a knight.”

  “He is.”

  Cord, Alice, Rhys and Gwen glanced at Lamerok. The big knight sat up. A soft smile was upon his face, which seemed strange because of the wreck of his features.

  “Cord is my squire,” Lamerok whispered.

  Alice’s mouth dropped open for the second time this morning.

  “He is the son of Sir Tostig, one of the finest knights I’ve ever known,” Lamerok said. “Yes. Cord is my squire. So of course you can marry him.”

  “I-I just can’t get married!” Alice said, leaping to her feet.

  “Of course you can,” Lamerok whispered. “Who is better than the squire who saved you? Who is better than the man who slew your guard in the tower?”

  Gwen and Rhys nodded.

  “But then that isn’t really my concern,” Lamerok said loftily. “Why you wanted me rescued is.”

  It was her turn to blush. “I’ll explain after breakfast.”

  “Good enough,” Lamerok said. “I’m famished, and the aroma of those rabbits is driving me mad.”

  Alice glanced at the spits. “They won’t be done right away,” she said.

  “Soon enough, though,” Rhys said.

  “Yes, soon,” Alice agreed. “But there’s time enough so I can speak with Cord.”

  Cord eyed her warily.

  “Would you step over here?” Alice asked, motioning toward the wolf run.

  “Now?” asked Cord, who belatedly remembered Sir Lamerok’s advice.

  “Yes, now,” Alice demanded, moving toward the run.

  -16-

  Cord took Reynard’s scabbard and sword and belted it on. The sergeant hadn’t had a knightly waist belt, but a baldric: a broad leather strap that hung over Cord’s right shoulder and under his left. A big brass baldric buckle shone from Cord’s chest like a medal, while at his hip swung the wooden scabbard and sword. The sword was two edged and heavy, a true battlefield weapon, meant to crush and bash chainmail clad opponents. The long hilt had been wrapped with leather and was held in place by wire. As he walked, the scabbard banged uncomfortably against his thigh. This was going to take getting used too. The clatter of it sounded good, however. It sounded manly, knightly. As soon as he had a chance, he’d file the nicks out of the blade, the ones put there by his Toledo steel dagger.

  He followed Alice down the wolf run. He admired the womanly sway of her hips and the precise manner of her steps. Yes, this tall, statuesque Norman lady was somebody he could love. Could she ever possibly love him in return?

  She turned suddenly. “How dare you!”

  “Huh?”

  “To presume I’d marry you simply because you helped me escape.”

  “It was Henri’s idea.”

  Her fine blonde eyebrows arched high indeed. Her blush deepened and penetrated down to her throat and maybe even farther beyond. Cord was entranced. She was stunning and he desired her.

  “Henri’s idea?” she asked tightly, as if under great control.

  Cord made a vague gesture, worried now that he’d made a mistake.

  “You mean you didn’t want to marry me until Henri thought of it? Is that right?”

  Cord, knowing he’d said the wrong thing, now said nothing.

  “Or was it simply the idea of becoming a knight that drove you?” she asked.

  “I will be knight, Alice. I won’t let Philip, Hugh or Earl Roger Mortimer steal what’s mine.”

  “They did steal it.”

  “Then I’m taking it back.”

  “By marrying me?”

  Cord licked his lips and took a step closer. “Why are you angry with me? I faced Reynard for you. Maybe you and Henri helped, but neither of you stood toe-to-toe with him.”

  “You did it so you could become a knight. You did it because Philip blocked your marriage with Bess Miller. You’ve done all these things in order to beat Philip.”

  “Very well,” he said. “I did those things so I could become a knight and thereby someday defeat Philip. Who plans on killing me, by the way.”

  “Then why lie to me?” she snapped.

  “I haven’t lied.”

  “Then why did you say you did those things for me?”

  “…You’re free, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “So didn’t I do it for you?”

  “NO! You freed me to use my money! You’re just like all the others, Dog Boy.”

  “I’m a squire!”

  She laughed. “What a joke. You hardly know how to sit a horse.”

  Cord advanced upon her, almost uncontrollably angry. Then, before he knew what he was doing, he crushed her against him, against the big brass buckle of his baldric. He took a fistful of her beautiful hair and tilted up her head. He kissed her fiercely, mercilessly. She pounded his back with her fists.

  “Proud Alice de Mowbray, you’re mine.”

  Suddenly she melted against him and returned his kisses with a fierce passion of her own. She hugged his hard body. “Cord,” she whispered.

  His head swam with passion, with the wonder of what he was doing. Being a knight meant being bold, he told himself.

  After a time he pulled away. “Marry me,” he said.

  “I-I don’t know. It’s too sudden,” Alice said. “You might still love Bess Miller.”

  “I’ve feelings for her,” he admitted. “I would be a cad if I didn’t. But it’s you I love, Alice de Mowbray. Ever since the day in the forest, I’ve felt that. And you must love me, too. Why else did you ride between Philip and me the day I slew Old Sloat?”

  “You truly don’t want to marry me for money?”

  He laughed and crushed her against him.

  “You reach high for a dog boy.”

  His face clouded.

  “I jest, Cord. I’ve known for a long time who your father was. Sergeant Hob told me about him.”

  Elated, he kissed her again.

  “I cannot marry you, however. Until I’m Alice de Mowbray of Gareth Fief I will marry no one.”

  “How
will you gain control of your fief if you won’t go back?”

  “Who said I’m not going back?”

  “You did.”

  “No,” she said. “I told you that I’m not going back now. First I need knights and money and men-at-arms to take what is mine.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “Through Sir Lamerok.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Guy thought Sir Lamerok could gain him much gold,” she explained, “but not through ransom. Logically then it would have to be because of something Sir Lamerok knows. We must simply get him to tell us that thing.”

  Cord’s eyes widened. “Is this why you told me to free him?”

  “Of course.”

  A heavy weight filled his heart. “I’m Sir Lamerok’s squire,” he said.

  “So he’s said.”

  “Is that why you’ve suddenly agreed to marry me?”

  She laughed as a fierce, malicious grin spread across her face. “So how does it feel?”

  “You plan on using me?

  “As you planned on using me,” she said.

  Cord blinked in confusion. He turned and made ready to stride away.

  Alice grabbed his arm. He paused but he wouldn’t look at her.

  “You help me and I’ll help you,” she said. “Do we have an understanding, a pact?”

  “None of this is for love?” he asked.

  “What is love?” she asked bitterly. If he would have turned to look at her, he might have seen the sorrow on her face, the watery glistening of her eyes. Maybe Alice de Mowbray wasn’t as calculating as she sounded. Maybe conflicting emotion raged in her.

  Cord stared at his feet. His chest felt stuffed, heavy, filled with lead. It made it difficult to speak. “I’ll help you. What you do in return is your own affair.”

  “So speaks the Saxon who hopes to marry a Norman lady.”

  He winced. “Yes,” he said. “So speaks the Saxon.”

  “Are you certain about what you’ve said? Or is this merely another hidden ploy?”

  Cord walked away and thus never saw how Alice de Mowbray watched him. It might have changed much.

  ***

  “Ah,” Lamerok sighed. “Now that was food. Thank you, Rhys, and thank you, milady, for your hunting skills.”

  “You seem invigorated,” Henri said.

  “I am, I am,” Lamerok assured him. Even so, the big knight was propped up against a mossy rock. The redness in his eyes had diminished a little, but they were still bloodshot and surrounded by badly bruised flesh.

  “Guy’s fare was bad?” Alice asked.

  “Terrible,” Lamerok said. “So terrible that I often saved a crumb for bait. Using the edge of my hand I slew the bold rats that tried to take the crumbs.”

  “You ate dungeon rats?” Alice asked in amazement.

  “Milady,” Lamerok said, “I’ve eaten much worse on a winter campaign in Prussia.”

  “Where?” Rhys asked.

  “Prussia,” Lamerok said. “I joined the Teutonic Knights on one of their crusades against the pagan Prussians. Aye, they were a vile people and it was a stark and unlovely land.” He shrugged. “The eating of dungeon rats was a small price for strength. Without strength the will rapidly drains away.”

  “And why did you need will?” Alice asked.

  Lamerok grinned. It was the tough mean grin of a knight who planned to fight to the death.

  “Guy refused the Earl of Derby’s offered ransom for you,” Alice said.

  “Aye, milady, I know. I was there.”

  Alice nodded thoughtfully.

  “Should we saddle the horses?” asked Cord.

  Alice shot him a frown. Henri rolled his eyes up at the clouds. Rhys and Gwen exchanged surprised glances. Lamerok settled further back against his rock as a soft smile tugged the corners of his lips.

  “Where would we head?” Henri asked Cord.

  “Away,” said Cord.

  “Yes,” Henri agreed. “But away to where?”

  “Where do you plan to go?” Cord asked Alice.

  “Indeed,” Lamerok asked. “I too am intrigued. For I’ve heard you say, milady, that you don’t wish to go straight to Gareth Castle. You plan to go somewhere else, to a place where you can gather coins and men-at-arms.”

  Alice nodded frostily.

  “Where is such a place?” Lamerok asked in a guileless tone. “Perhaps it is in a castle where your uncle lives.”

  “I have no uncles,” Alice said.

  “Ah, but of course you have no uncles,” Lamerok said. “Why otherwise did your liege have the right to marry you off to whomever he chose?”

  “May I ask you a question?” Alice asked Lamerok.

  “Of course, my dear.”

  “Why did Guy imprison you?”

  Henri leaned forward, as did Gwen and Rhys. Cord found himself holding his breath. Pellinore Castle had been a-buzz with the mystery.

  “We come to the heart of the matter, is that it?” Lamerok asked in his half-mocking tone.

  “It is,” Alice said.

  “In other words, I should be so grateful for what you’ve done,” Lamerok said, “that I will bare my soul to you five strangers.”

  “Hardly strangers,” Alice said. “We are the five who risked our lives to free you.”

  “And free yourselves in the process,” Lamerok pointed out.

  “Yes,” Alice admitted. “There is that.”

  “The reason for my imprisonment is a long tale,” Lamerok said. He grinned at Henri. “And it is an interesting and intriguing tale.”

  “You have a minstrel’s attention, sir,”

  “Of course I do,” Lamerok said. “For at the end of my tale lies a leprechaun’s pot of gold. Who wouldn’t be interested in that?”

  “A what?” asked Cord.

  “A leprechaun,” Lamerok said with a laugh. “I’m told he’s a creature of Faire who inhabits Ireland, the bountiful land of shamrocks. If you ever manage to see a leprechaun, you must expend all the effort it takes to capture him. For I’m also told that in order to free himself the leprechaun will take you to his pot of golden treasure and trade it to you for his freedom. He will ransom himself, in other words.”

  “And you know the whereabouts of such a pot of gold?” Alice asked softly.

  Lamerok asked back, “Why else would Sir Guy refuse the Earl of Derby’s generous ransom if there wasn’t an even greater amount of monies involved?”

  Alice smiled at Cord. Cord’s hopes flared. Alice blinked rapidly, as if she’d just discovered herself doing something silly. Her gaze slid from Cord’s as her smile lessened.

  “I will admit several things,” Lamerok said. “Then you must make a decision.”

  “Very well,” Cord said, when no one else spoke.

  “I am a suspicious man,” Lamerok said. “I’ve been through much these past few weeks. I’ve seen my former squire, a man I’ve been with for over twenty years, butchered before my eyes. Aye, they thought they would break me through a heartless deed.” His eyes seemed to glitter. He finally blinked and peered around. “I also lost my cherished freedom, and through their tortures I almost lost the use of my limbs. Those wicked people tried to break my spirit. They almost succeeded, more than I truly care to say.”

  Lamerok’s jaws clenched. “I am admitting several things so you may understand me. These people were and are terribly sly, and here I most mean Sir Guy and his horrible witch Aldora. I therefore have asked myself: Could this sly witch have sent good folk into the dungeon to pretend to rescue me?”

  “No!” said Cord.

  “We are not so base,” Rhys said.

  Lamerok held up his scarred hands. “I did not say you were impostors. Perhaps, though, you are dupes. I know not. Nor can you yourselves know, for some time at least. I think that whatever happens, that Guy will track us to the ends of the earth. Maybe his foresters even now watch us.”

  Cord glanced about. No, no, he told himself. If a
ny watched them, they would have used hounds to find them this quickly—his hounds. If his hounds tracked him, he would have heard them.

  “What decision are you asking us to make?” Alice said.

  “Here is my pact,” Lamerok said softly. “You must either take it or reject it. Each day I will tell you part of my story. During those days, we will journey to where I desire, and by feeding me well you will help me recover my strength. If in that time we still remain free and I learn to trust you, then I will share my secret with you. For if you were and are truly brave and did have the luck of Saint George last night, then I will gladly split with each of you….”

  Lamerok searched their faces. “I will then share with you the Golden Treasure of Gaius.”

  Cord felt a thrill sweep through him. The Golden Treasure of Gaius. That sounded grand, ancient, almost mythical.

  “Gaius is a Roman name,” Henri said thoughtfully.

  “Your words are hard,” Alice told Lamerok.

  “Perhaps they are, milady, but please consider what I’ve been through.”

  “No, your words aren’t hard at all,” Cord said, rising. “I understand how cunning ones enemies can be. Baron Hugh and Sir Philip kept me as a dog boy for eleven long years. All so they could abuse me and make a mockery of my father. You have my hand on your pact, Sir Lamerok of Dun, but only if you will teach me how to be a true knight.”

  Lamerok grinned. “You are my squire and I your knight.” He shook hands.

  “I will agree,” Alice said, watching them. “But your tale must begin today.”

  “So near Pellinore?” Lamerok chided.

  “You may tell us the tale as we ride,” she said.

  “As you wish.”

  “Where will we ride to?” asked Cord.

  “Deeper into Wales,” Lamerok said.

  “Where in Wales?” asked Cord.

  “Into Owain ab Ifan’s lands,” Rhys said, with a note of authority in his voice.

  The others glanced at him, and missed how Rhys’ wife stiffened.

  “Why there?” Alice asked the Welshman.

  “Because Owain and his warriors are still at Bridgenorth,” Rhys said. “And because ab Ifan’s lands surround Gareth Fief.” The stocky Welshman tugged his forked beard. “I’ve listened to all that’s been said about Sir Lamerok, the few tidbits people spoke about him before I was thrown into the dungeon.