Knight Tenebrae

by Julianne Lee

  The combing slowed. Became more of a caressing. Stroking. A finger traced the outside of her ear. He wanted to bend and kiss her. She was practically lying in his lap, and the desire to press his mouth to her cheek was intense. Movement stopped. His hand lay against her head, and he didn’t dare go on lest he lean toward her.

  “Are you finished?”

  Alex blinked. The moment was broken. “Uh-huh.”

  She sat up. “Thank you. Do you need the comb?”

  He shook his head and had to clear his throat. “I don’t seem to have any ‘wee creatures’ there yet.” His hair was still short from his military cut, and though it was grown out some and felt shaggy, it still wasn’t long enough to make the bugs comfortable. They preferred his clothing and his privates.

  Lindsay got up from the ground and moved to her pallet without a glance at him. As he watched her go, watched her settle in among the folds of her parachute, he wondered what was going through her mind. Did she know what she was doing to him? She must. Was it possible he was doing any of those same things to her? He doubted it, and that helped him look away. No sense in letting himself get all worked up for nothing. He extinguished the lamp, lay down, and rolled away from her.

  After a while, her voice came in the darkness. “I expect I’ll be required to kill someone eventually.”

  Alex rolled onto his back and replied to the darkness, “I expect so.”

  “How does one prepare for that?”

  “You don’t think about it. The more you think about what it means, the less likely you’ll be the one left alive when the fighting’s over. When you fight, the only thing you can be thinking about is making the other guy not kill you. And you do that by killing him first. Make it so he can’t get back up and come after you again.”

  Her voice was soft, hesitant. “That sounds awfully cold.”

  “Don’t expect warm fuzzies from the enemy. Never forget that he’s there to kill you, and he’ll do it if you give him the slightest chance.” He looked over at her, but saw only darkness. There was no reply. Eventually he gave up waiting for one, and rolled away from her once more to sleep.

  It was only the next day that Alex found out what Lindsay had taken from their talk. Shortly after dawn, after the men had eaten breakfast and while the squires were at work preparing the horses, there arose a clamor among the tents. Alex left his fire to investigate the uproar, curious who was going at it but not particularly surprised or alarmed. Fights here were frequent, and so long as nobody died or was injured badly enough to affect performance they weren’t any of his business. He hovered near a tree to watch.

  But he groaned when he saw the combatants were Lindsay and another squire, the largest man of his rank in the detail. “Crap.” He’d hoped she’d back off from this nonsense, but she’d done just the opposite. Now she was getting her ass kicked. Though she tried to dodge the blows, the other squire was faster as well as larger, and walloped her with ham fists. It didn’t take long for him to knock her down.

  “Stay down,” Alex whispered.

  Lindsay regained her feet quickly, and came back at her opponent. Bare-fisted and without her mace, the punches she landed were many but not very effective. She did little more than make the squire stagger, and he came back with blows that rocked her head back and knocked her to her knees. Blood ran from her nose and dripped from her chin.

  “Stay down, Lindsay. Please.” Alex’s hands were fists at his sides.

  But, no, she dragged herself to her feet again. The other squire circled quickly, too fast for her, and backhanded her head so she fell forward. Once again she struggled to her feet. Alex muttered a string of vulgarisms and began to pace among the trees, wishing the fight would be over.

  The larger squire busted Lindsay in the face again so she went flying and landed on her back. Stunned, she lay there, but even half-conscious she was trying to regain her feet. Her opponent walked over and drew back a foot to kick her in the belly.

  “No!” Alex pushed his way between the onlookers at a run. “Hold!” The squire stayed his foot and turned to stare. Alex strode in with all the authority he could muster, knowing it was an improper intrusion and he was going to pay for it later in terms of unit morale. “Leave huh—him alone. He’s down and unconscious. You’ve beaten him.”

  She protested, “I’m not—”

  “You’re down, Lindsay. He’s won. Let it go.”

  The other squire gave him a dull look, then glanced at his master, Sir Cullan, who nodded and indicated with a chin movement that he should get to work readying the horses. The squire stepped over Lindsay to obey.

  Alex turned to the crowd. “Show’s over. Nothing more to see, men.”

  The crowd dispersed, and Alex knelt by his squire. “How come you kept getting up?”

  “I wanted to fight well.” Her voice was a burble of blood and saliva, her lips swollen and purple. He helped her up, and she stood with her feet splayed like a colt to keep her balance. “Why did you stop him?”

  “He was about to kill you. And how come you picked on the biggest guy here? Wait, don’t tell me, you wanted to impress everyone.”

  “You said—”

  “I said fight. I didn’t say get yourself beat to a bloody pulp.”

  “I thought I could take him. I thought, being smaller, I’d be faster than he.”

  “You were wrong. And you were crazy. I think you may have bruised his face a little, but winning that fight wasn’t going to happen.”

  “You still shouldn’t have stopped it.” She straightened as she regained her senses.

  “It was a stupid thing to do.”

  “Seriously, Alex. Don’t ever do that again.” Her voice was angry. She wiped blood from her chin, looked at it on her hand, then walked away.

  Alex watched her go, and wondered if he should have just let that guy kick the wind out of her.

  * * *

  In September, after the fall of Linlithgow Castle, the company moved on, ahead of the main Scottish forces and to the east. Without any of the impunity the English enjoyed, and without the manpower and other resources of King Edward, the Scots moved quickly, efficiently, scoping out the territory ahead and reporting back to Edward Bruce with squires on the fastest horses.

  During this time, constantly on the move, Alex helped Lindsay keep her secret by trying to make their camps in places that would provide private access to clean water. Burns running through thick forest were easy to find in this era where towns were far between and farmland barely pushed back the wilderness, and so it was often Alex stood guard over Lindsay’s privacy while she bathed. He liked a good scrub himself, and they usually traded off on guard duty.

  One evening as the sun slanted quickly to the west, after his own bath Alex was taking his post on the path to guard Lindsay when he realized he’d left his hauberk on the bank. He declared his presence as he returned for it, but was quite surprised when he stepped into the clearing by the water. Lindsay, wearing only her T-shirt and panties, was struggling to get out of his heavy, slithery, chain mail hauberk. The forest was thick, and the clearing small. She danced around in it, unable to get the metal shirt to go on or off.

  “What are you doing?” Surely she could hear the smile in his voice even through the rattling mail. It was a temptation to laugh out loud.

  Bent over, trying to heave the metal garment over her head so it would slide to the ground, she grunted as she replied, “I just wanted to see what it was like.”

  “It’s heavy.”

  “I can see that.”

  “It swishes when you walk.”

  “I know that. I wanted to know whether I could carry it.”

  “Can you?”

  She quit struggling, the hauberk over her head and stuck almost halfway up her back. “Will you help me with this?”

  “What if I hadn’t come back for it?”

  “I would have gone and found you.”

  “Like that?”

  “Whatever it might
take to get out of this. Will you please help me?”

  He chuckled and went to lift some of the weight from her arms so she could back out of the mail. It crossed his mind she’d asked him to help her undress, and he decided he would be a lucky man if she might want him to remove her underwear as well. For that, he wouldn’t even make her say “please” again.

  Then there was giggling, and it certainly wasn’t Lindsay. Alex immediately dropped the hauberk and went for the dagger at his belt, but there was nobody nearby. Lindsay let the mail slide to the ground, then tugged her T-shirt over her hips as she looked around. “What’s wrong?” She hadn’t heard it.

  “Didn’t you hear someone giggling?”

  “No.”

  More giggling, then Lindsay said, “Okay, I heard that.” She looked around and ran her fingers through her messed-up hair as she sidled close. “Who is it?”

  Then Alex spotted it. A tiny person, perched on a moss-covered log nearby. She wore a brightly colored and belted sleeveless tunic the length of a miniskirt, and nothing else. Most of her was exposed through the gaping sleeves and neck of her garment, and it was not apparent why she bothered wearing the thing at all. “Who are you?”

  “‘Tis I who should be doing the asking, as you are the one walking all over my home.”

  “This is open forest.”

  “Typical response from a human trampling my ring. But if you would be so kind as to continue what you were about, I’ll be entertained enough to leave you be until ye care to return to your own home.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Lindsay said, “Alex, look.” He looked, but saw nothing. “We have trampled her ring.”

  “What?”

  “I...”

  “Look.” She pointed, and he looked.

  “Toadstools.”

  “Now look all around. The edge of the clearing.”

  Then he saw. All around the edge of the clearing was a line of large, brown toadstools. It encircled the log on which the little woman sat, ran up next to the water, and surrounded himself and Lindsay. “What is it? Ring?”

  “A faerie ring. She’s right; we’re trespassing.” To the woman she said, “You must forgive him; he’s an American and has no manners.”

  Alex narrowed his eyes at Lindsay, then looked up at the creature, whose eyes were bright blue and hair was black as coal. She was awfully tiny, but no more faerie like than any other small, thin person. “Should we move? Will she leave us alone if we move outside her circle?”

  “Don’t be talking about me as if I werenae here. And besides, the energy the two of you have brought to me has caught my attention and there’s naught to be done about it at this juncture. So just go about your business, and I’ll watch.”

  “What business?”

  “Ye cannae lie to me. I can see it all through the two of you. The maucht was so strong when ye both stepped inside the circle, I’ll wager we’ll have company from other parts of the forest soon to enjoy the show. So hurry, before they get here. Do it now.”

  “Do what?”

  “Good God.” Lindsay gaped at the faerie, and her face flushed darker than Alex had ever seen it. “I don’t think so.” At that she picked up her flight suit, stepped into it, and zipped it up, then began retrieving her belts and weapons.

  “Hey,” said Alex. “Is this that Danu faerie?”

  “Hardly.” Lindsay averted her eyes from his.

  “What is she talking about?”

  “I don’t wish to talk about it.”

  “Lindsay—”

  “Just...never mind.” She hurried from the clearing.

  Alex turned to the faerie. “What’s the deal?”

  “Ye could have had her, lad.” Appearing disappointed, and mildly disgusted with Alex, she set her chin in her hand and rested elbow on knee.

  “Could have...” Realization made him boggle. “Could have had her? You’re not serious.”

  “Absolutely serious. She wants you, and I’m appalled ye cannae even see it.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “Does.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I’m a faerie, ye sumph. We ken these things.”

  Speechless now, Alex looked in the direction Lindsay had taken. He picked up his hauberk, went to follow her, and caught up with her. She was looking for another spot in the burn to bathe. When she saw Alex, she crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her chin to look at him.

  He said, “Ignore her. I think she’s just giving us grief because she gets off on it.” More giggling from behind, and he glanced back. “See?”

  “Perhaps we should return to camp?”

  “Nah. Just ignore her.” But he couldn’t help wondering whether the faerie was right. Might Lindsay have been open to an advance? Plainly she wasn’t now, but had she been?

  She looked behind him, where they both heard more giggling. “Do you believe in faeries now?”

  “I believe in pointy-eared people, I suppose.”

  “You know, Alex, I don’t know whether you noticed this, but you were speaking to that faerie entirely in modern English.”

  Now he felt stupid again, not grasping her point. “Uh huh.”

  “And she understood every word.”

  His eyebrows went up and he looked back toward the clearing. She was right. The faerie knew modern English, just as that elf-looking guy had. The woman had the same connection to the future. He hurried back to the toadstool ring, but now there was no faerie. No wee folk of any kind, nor any giggling.

  And suddenly he realized he didn’t want to find her, even if she had the power to return them to their own time, which he doubted. He glanced around the clearing, a quick once-over and nearly dreading the sight of the faerie, then in the direction Lindsay had taken.

  A strange lightheadedness came over him as he thought of the prospect of going home and what there would be to gain or lose by it. On the one hand, it would be sweet to return to the life he’d had, where seven centuries of civilization and technical advance pertained. On the other hand, he was coping well with his new life. He liked the autonomy of his new position. The prospects for advancement were nothing to sneeze at, either. Robert Bruce was going to win this war, and that meant advancement and wealth for everyone loyal to him. Alex now wanted things he would never have found in his old life. If they went home he would return to his ship, and Lindsay would return to London and whatever life she’d had there. Certainly he would never see her again.

  Never see Lindsay again.

  Without having looked all that hard, he returned to the tent and said he’d been unable to find the creature.

  Chapter Seven

  One day while on patrol Sir Orrin, who had ranged ahead to scout, returned at speed. He galloped up to Alex, reined in to a skidding halt, and said breathlessly, “A column of knights flying the banner of Lord Clifford. Coming north.”

  “How many?” Alex asked.

  The knight shrugged. “I didn’t stop to count them.”

  “Why not? Did they see you and chase you?”

  Orrin shook his head. “I wanted to report as quickly as possible.” He seemed pleased with himself, and Alex wondered why. He peered at the excited man, and not for the first time wished for a modern military officer in his command. Just one man.

  “But you have nothing to report. Do you remember where they are? How far?”

  Now Orrin nodded eagerly. “Aye. Over that way.” He pointed.

  “Where is that way?”

  “Through some woods, and across those hills that way.”

  An impatient sigh escaped Alex. “Take me there.” When the eager knight wheeled and kicked his horse to a gallop, Alex whistled for him to stop. He turned, puzzled. “I said, take me there. Wait for me to come with you.”

  Then Alex called out to one of his more reliable knights, “Halt here. Don’t make camp; I’ll return shortly, and we may have to move out in a hurry.” He gestured to Sir Cullan to come with him, an
d Cullan rode over with a squire. When Alex turned to go with his scout, Lindsay kicked her horse to follow.

  Alex reined in and turned. “No, not you.” He waved her to a halt.

  “But, sir—”

  “I said, you stay.”

  She pressed her lips together, but said nothing further. Alex spurred his horse to a canter and the three knights and a squire hurried off to find the position of the English.

  They watched the enemy from a vantage point among trees on a hillside, hopefully hidden from the English scouts. When Alex learned how near the column was, what it carried, and its size, at once alarm and excitement surged in his blood and a smile rose to his face. It was a provisioning train, herding livestock and pulling lumbering wagons filled with food and equipment. By simple body count his small company was outnumbered by nearly double, but the English had fewer men-at-arms. The rest seemed to be women, children, and unarmed peasant workmen. They were making good time, considering their burdens, so decisiveness was called for on Alex’s part. He couldn’t be certain whether the English knights knew of his presence and position, but he doubted it. This wasn’t an army, only a guard for the provisions, and probably they were hurrying to garrison rather than looking for a fight. A whispered conversation with Sir Cullan supported the idea.

  “Castle Galashiels lies up the river.” Cullan pointed with his chin. “They’re more than likely going there,” said the knight from Barra. His flowing, white-blond hair spilled from his helmet and lifted in the breeze.

  “Is it close enough for them to make it by nightfall?”

  The man thought for a moment, grimaced, then nodded. “If they keep this speed, they could arrive by then, or shortly after. We’ll need to apprehend them by midday, or they’ll be close enough to the castle for the garrison to be a danger to us.”