by Mac Flynn
Tristan took position in the center of the hall. He was arrayed in a chest plate with his family crest on the front, and his legs and arms were covered in thick bands of metal. The soldiers girded his sword at his hip, and in a few moments my laird stood before me as a fine warrior in armor that shimmered in the candlelight.
"Where are they now?" Tristan asked Chamberlain.
"Three miles from the village, my laird. They seemed to have stopped at the last hill on the road," Chamberlain informed him.
"I see. They seek the high ground for victory. We shall break them of their false hope," Tristan
I stood off to the side and watched as the men prepared for war. The saddled horses were brought from the stables and led to the front doors. Alan shouted orders and the soldiers positioned themselves in long lines inside the courtyard.
The sight of such promise of bloodshed forced the color from my face. The last time I had beheld such a sight my father had been taken from me, and now here I stood with the fear that my husband-to-be would meet the same fate.
Tristan glanced over the heads of his soldiers and noticed me in the corner of the hall. He pursed his lips and waved away his servants.
"Give me but a moment and I shall give the order to march," he replied.
Chamberlain bowed his head. "As you wish, my laird."
He led the soldiers out of the entrance hall and personally shut the doors behind the men. Tristan and I were left to ourselves. My laird stepped up to me and set his hands on my shoulders. His eyes looked into mine and my heart quickened, though I knew not from fear or sensual excitement.
"You lack faith in my abilities?" he wondered.
I bit my lip and turned away. "I lack faith in the Laird to grant my wish of a safe return for you."
He clasped my chin between his fingers and gently forced me to look into his face. "We will both return. I promise you that," he swore.
"That is a promise I cannot expect you to keep. Only your enemies decide your fate," I argued.
He chuckled. "Does my sword not assist me at all?"
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Not when God has other plans for you."
Tristan wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. His armor was cold to the touch, but a warmth spread through me at such close quarters. He lowered his voice to a sultry whisper. "I, too, have great plans for you, my love. If God has chosen for our path to end so soon then he will find himself mistaken."
I whipped my head to face him and my mouth fell open. "But it is sinful to believe one can go against God!" I protested.
He nuzzled the top of my head and growled. The sound was feral, but the feel of him so close comforted me. "I will never let anyone nor anything harm you, my love, or come between us. You are most dearest to me of all things on earth."
I looked into his face and witnessed the determination in his eyes. "You swear it?" I asked him.
"On my life," he returned.
I blushed and looked down at the floor. My eyes caught on the necklace. I pulled away from him and grasped the heirloom in my hands.
"Should your mother's necklace remain at the castle?" I asked him.
My love smiled. "Does that mean you will be by my side?"
I smiled and nodded. "Always, my laird."
Tristan leaned down and gently kissed my lips. "Then the necklace is yours now, and if you are to wear anything in my presence I would have you wear that," he whispered to me.
I released the necklace and looked up into his glistening eyes. "Then I will gladly wear your necklace as I sit beside you at the head of your men."
He chuckled. "Beautiful. A warrior of forty summers of campaigns could not have given me a better rallying cry. Now let us be off to begin our destiny."
Tristan led me through the doors and out into the cool night air. The soldiers stood at the ready and the horses pawed the ground. Many of them skirted us as we approached the horsemen, but not the two prepared for us. My laird mounted a coal-black steed and I was given a beautiful white horse as lovely as any Arabian. Chamberlain, too, was mounted, and we joined him and the captain at the open gates.
"The village has been evacuated to the far south, and our enemies keep to the hill," Chamberlain informed us.
"And the men are ready," Alan added.
"Good. We will meet them there," Tristan replied. He turned his horse so he faced the men under his command. "I have not been your laird for long, but I swear on the honor of my house that I shall fight alongside all of you as an old and faithful comrade." He paced the front of the ranks and looked many of the men in the eyes. I saw the soldiers stand taller and their fear left many of them. "But now is not the time to kiss your beloved ones goodbye ,or wet your face with tears of regret, for whatever threat reaches my holdings shall be vanquished by god's will! He stands with us now, and he will stand with us in battle!"
"Hooray!" the men shouted. They lifted their weapons and rattled their shields.
"Now come, my men, and let us smite our enemies!" Tristan shouted.
"To battle!" Alan cried out.
Those of us who were mounted led the way through the gates and onto the wide road that traveled northward towards the land of our enemies. We traveled only a mere mile before I glimpsed a glow in the distance that lit up the horizon like the evening sun. The light was the reflection of the fires started by our foes. I looked behind us and watched the long lines of shadows that represented our own soldiers. The air was thick with tension and the torches carried by the men reflected their anxiety.
My laird sidled up to my steed and lowered his voice so only I would overhear his words. "A wondrous night, is it not?" he asked me.
"Aye, my laird, but for the fires in the distance," I replied.
He smiled. "Those will soon be extinguished, my love. What I speak of is the clear sky above us."
I looked to his face and saw no concern. His eyes danced with a teasing light that mirrored his light words.
"My laird, I cannot understand your calm mind at so tense a time," I admitted.
His eyes fell on the necklace around my neck. "You will, my love, and we each of us will play our part in the coming battle."
"Me, my laird?" I asked him.
"My laird, look yonder," Alan called to Tristan.
We looked ahead of us and beheld the bright fires of the torches around the enemy's camp. Our journey was over, and there was nothing left to do but battle.
CHAPTER 21
"Stop the march!" my laird called out.
"Stop the march!" Alan repeated, and the call was echoed down the long line of soldiers.
"Bring the men to line up along the road so they are only a dozen deep," Tristan commanded Alan.
Alan frowned. "But my laird, there is not room enough for them to maneuver along the hills."
"I do not want them to do battle. I wish for them to watch and know what transpires here," Tristan told him. "Now call the men to the front."
The captain bowed his head. "As you wish, my laird." He turned his steed to the banner men at the front of the lines and shouted the order. "Men, to the front in rows of twelve!"
The order echoed down the rows as before, and they reluctantly moved as one so the twelve stood abreast and a long row spread over both sides of the road. Tristan trotted his horse along their lines and his voice bellowed over their uncertain grumbles.
"Men, I called you here not to do battle, though I do not doubt your bravery, but to witness the strength of god against our enemies." The men shifted from one foot to the other and glanced at their comrades. A murmur of doubt arose in their ranks. Tristan rode up to me and clasped our hands together. "This innocent maiden is our banner, our truth that god is on our side, and I shall prove that now!"
I glimpsed a glitter of light from the necklace I wore, and an exclamation of awe and fear swept over the soldiers. They looked to the field before us, and I followed their gaze. Not more than a dozen yards in front of us came a thick wall of fog
that arose from the ground. The wall blocked our view of our enemies and extinguished the light of their fires, but we heard a great din of voices and armor as their number noticed the strange occurrence.
The horses of our troops whinnied and pulled against their reins to flee from the fog, and the men had a hard time keeping their saddle. The only two not affected were the ones Tristan and I rode. He caught my eye and squeezed my hand.
"My love, will you go with me into the abyss?" he whispered to me.
"The abyss?" I repeated.
He nodded towards the white fog. The thick mist floated over the ground and stopped five yards short of our position.
"To there, my love. The unknown to you, and the known to me," he told me.
"But the enemy is on the other side, and may be hidden inside the fog," I reminded him.
Tristan smiled and his hand slid from mine. "I understand, and I find no fault with you. If there is fault it lies with me for asking so much of you in one night. Remain here with Chamberlain and my captain. I will return in a short while." I made to reply, but he turned away from me and faced his uneasy troops. "My men, I will trust in the great god's will to vanquish our enemies. If he deigns to give us victory then I shall emerge before the space of ten minutes. If failure, then I shall never emerge. Pray for me."
Tristan turned his horse towards the fog and spurred it into a sprint. The steed rose forward and my love was swallowed by the fog.
"Tristan!" I shouted. I made to follow, but Chamberlain rode up and grabbed my reins. He pulled me back while I tried to pull away. "Release me! Let me follow!" I pleaded.
He shook his head. "I cannot allow that, my lady. Our laird ordered that you be placed in my charge should something happen to him, and I shall-" Chamberlain's words were interrupted by the cry of a terrified man.
The scream came within a hundred yards from us, but the fog was so thick we could only discern the direction as in front of us. More cries followed the first until it seemed as though there was a whole forest of men in fear. The clank of metal against metal echoed down the road to us and there came the muffled calls of orders that were not heeded.
The horses among us, mine excluded, whinnied and strained at their reins. The men shrank from the terrible cries and cowered in their gear. Chamberlain released me and crossed himself.
"Lord save us," I heard him whisper.
The horrible noises last a mere five minutes before they began to fade into the distance. The fog shifted as though stirred by a wind, though I felt nothing, and the wall shrank. From the back of our horses Chamberlain and I glimpsed the enemy encampment atop the hill. Some of the fires still burned, but many were extinguished and the shadows of the men were gone. There lay only dark shapes on the ground, huddled masses of fallen men, and they did not stir.
"My God. . ." Chamberlain murmured.
The fog dispersed enough so that even those on foot caught glimpses of what remained of our foes and their grand army. They craned their necks and their eyes widened as they distinguished the bodies from the ground.
"What has happened?" one of the lieutenants of the banners wondered.
"What sorcery is this?" another asked.
Now a new fear replaced their fear of death. They worried the makings of this victory lay in the hands of the devil.
"The devil came for them, and means to take us!" a man yelled.
"He has brought an army of shadows and fire!" one cried out.
"The plague!" someone shouted.
That single word struck the men with an indescribable fear. Nothing was so dangerous as that which did not discriminate between man and woman. The men stumbled back and broken ranks.
Alan turned his horse towards the men. "Hold your positions!" he shouted. "Hold until our laird returns!"
"What if he doesn't return? What then?" one of the lieutenants yelled at him.
A dazzling light from the fog caught the attention of all, and I turned to see a dark shape emerge from the thin wall of mist that still existed. The shape was of my laird atop his horse. His armor was scuffed and askew, and dirt and blood marred his face and hands, but he was alive and well.
A silence swept over the crowd as they watched his dark figure with the radiance around him like a halo step from the fog. The mist and the light shrank and dimmed, and they disappeared behind my laird at the same instance. The darkness of night swept over us, but all was calm and peaceful. There was only the distant crackling of the few fires from atop the hill.
Chamberlain turned his horse and galloped over to our laird who stood only ten yards off. The steward stopped and bowed his head. "My laird, what news? What has happened?"
"The great god has delivered us from evil," Tristan announced. He turned to the men, many of whom still shook with fear, and trotted over to them. They cowered beneath the firm, bright gaze of his eyes. "Do not be troubled, my soldiers, for god has allowed us a victory over our enemies! They have fled or been killed by the god's messenger, a great wolf that I myself witnessed, and we are promised more victories if you will but follow me!"
The men glanced at each other until a lieutenant of a banner, an old soldier, stepped forward. He held out his battered shield and drummed his sword against the front. The echo sounded like a drum across the ranks.
Then, one by one, the other men joined in the cry of allegiance until the whole company sounded with the cries of metal against metal. My laird sat tall in his saddle and pulled forth his unblemished sword which he held high over his head.
"This night is ours, my men!" my laird shouted above the din. They called back with yells of agreement and hooray. "Let us return with our banners held high and our hearts light with god's grace!"
"My laird, what of our enemies and their camp?" Alan spoke up.
"Aye! The loot!" a soldier yelled.
"The loot! The loot!" the others chanted.
My laird smiled and held up his hand to quiet his men. "No one will touch those that were smite by god. They will keep until the morn and in the light of day we will bury their dead and scavenge what we will."
There was a small grumble of dissatisfaction, but Alan bowed his head. "As you say, my laird." He turned to the soldiers. "In your places for the march back!"
The men returned to their ranks and the banner men held their banners high into the air. Alan hurried to the front to assist in their command.
My laird turned to me and held out his hand. "My love, will you come with me now."
I clasped my reins and lowered my head. "My laird, please forgive-"
"There is nothing to forgive, my love," he assured me. He sidled his horse beside mine and cupped my chin on his hand. His sparkling eyes looked into mine with pleasure. "Show no shame. You have helped me far more than you imagine, and for that I give thanks to you." He released me and bowed his head to me.
I blushed. "M-my laird, you give me great honor."
"The honor is mine if you will but accompany me home," he pleaded. He lifted his head and again held out his hand. "Will you come with me?"
I smiled and set my hand in his palm. "You will lead and I will follow," I promised.
He smiled and gave a nod. "Good. Now let us to home."
CHAPTER 22
We returned home at the head of our triumphant and unscathed army. The sun's rising was a mere two hours away, and all the village was quiet but for a few sentries a mile out. They spotted our coming and passed on the glad tidings to those in the village.
We entered the quiet outskirts in full spirits with our heads held high and smiles on our faces. There came a great din from the village as our people spied the banners of their men, and a great multitude rushed from the sanctuary of the church. They crowded around us and swept through the ranks of men to those they loved, and shouts of joy arose when each man was found.
Father Clarke was among those who crowded around my laird's steed and my own. He clasped Tristan's hand in both of his and smiled at him.
"God has willed
that you return to us," he praised.
"And without a man lost or injured," Tristan informed him.
Father Clarke started back. "Not a single one?" he asked us. He turned his attention to the ranks of men as though to confirm our laird's words with a mere glance. His curiosity satisfied, he returned his attention to Tristan. "The Lord is great indeed to give us such good news."
"And tonight we shall drink to the god's honor," Tristan added. He turned his horse so the side faced the village, and his voice echoed through the cries of joy around us. "Let all wine and mead barrels at the inn be opened and all the meat be eaten this night! I offer my account as payment for the celebration to our fine men!"
The people clapped and cheered, and the men raised their swords and spears in agreement. The soldiers were disbanded and the people flowed towards the inn. Soon all that was left were a few of the lieutenants, Alan, Chamberlain, Clarke, and ourselves.
Clarke turned to us with curious eyes. "How did this come to be, my laird? Was there no fight from our enemies?"
A sly half-grin slid onto Tristan's lips. "There was much fight, but god's will was stronger. We were provided with a fog so as not to glimpse the carnage, and it was done in very little time."
"But how came this to be?" Father Clarke insisted.
"Through your prayers, Father, through your prayers," Tristan replied as he turned his horse towards the road to the castle. "As for my prayers, they consist of a touch of mead to wash out the dirty business of war and a soft bed. Chamberlain, if you will take account what my proclamation will cost me, I would be most grateful. Oh, and take some for yourself. You have earned it more than most men this night."
Chamberlain bowed his head. "Thank you, my laird. I will do as you ask." He turned and followed the soldiers to the inn.
Father Clarke made as though to go to the church, but he hesitated and his eyes fell on Tristan's armor. "How did my laird come to have such spoilage of his armor?"
Tristan chuckled. "A minor sacrifice to god for the help. Now if you will excuse us."
He led me up the road to the castle where everyone awaited us in the courtyard. The news of our victory had spread, and they were all smiles as we dismounted. I was glad for the absence of Bean Lyel's face in the crowd. My laird must have dismissed her.
