Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius were stunned to varying degrees, but each brother understood, implicitly, what Garran was staying. They would not have expected him to fight against his father. Gallus put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder.
“You are certain of this?” he asked softly.
Garran nodded with remorse. “I am, my lord.”
Gallus thought on his reply a moment. “Your father is a legend,” he said. “He is a fine and honorable knight. Although I am deeply saddened to lose your sword, I understand completely. I could not fight against my father, either.”
It was a sorrowful moment for them all, especially for Tiberius. Garran was his good friend.
“When will you go?” Tiberius asked softly.
Garran looked at his friend, his liege, with great sadness. “I will go to him as soon as you return from intercepting de Lara’s escort,” he said. “I will not leave Lady de Shera unattended. Please… please know this was not an easy decision for me. It is mayhap the hardest choice I have ever had to make, but in this instance, understand that my choice is not in favor of Henry – it is in favor of my father. It will always be my father.”
Gallus patted him on the shoulder again. “I know,” he comforted. “As it should be. Godspeed and fair winds, Garran. May we never meet up in battle, my friend, but if we do, then I pray we both survive it.”
There wasn’t much more to say, from any of them. Garran forced a smile, silently thanking Gallus and his brothers for their friendship and trust, before turning away and heading back over to the table where Ellice was still sitting, now on her second cup of warmed wine. The knight sat down at the end of the table and simply hung his head.
It was a desolate moment. Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius watched Garran as he slumped at the table, shocked and saddened by the turn of events. But they couldn’t linger over them. They had a more pressing engagement looming and they would need all of their focus for what was to come. They could fully worry about the loss of a knight, and good friend, at another time. But now was not the time.
Eventually, Gallus turned away to prepare himself, followed by Maximus. As they went about their business, Tiberius remained where they had left him, his gaze lingering on Garran and feeling a distinct sense of loss. He wasn’t entirely sure he could face the man in battle, either. He knew he couldn’t strike him down. But family loyalty superseded friendship. He understood that well.
With a heavy heart, he followed his brothers as they prepared to intercept de Lara’s escort and regain Lady Courtly.
Just before noon on the following day, outside of the sleepy village of Begbroke, north of Oxford, the de Shera army was waiting.
The rain had stopped for the most part, revealing clear skies above, but the ground was still soaked and muddy, making traveling difficult. Roads were impassable in some spots and farmers with wagons, trying to get to town, had been thwarted by the holes and puddles.
The de Lara party was heavily armed as they moved along the sludge-filled road. Courtly and Isadora were both astride the small gray palfrey, bundled up with a coverlet stolen off of a bed from Kennington, as they made their way very slowly along the muddy road. St. Héver was at point, leading the party along beneath cold, blue skies and as they passed on the outskirts of Begbroke they eventually entered a wooded area where the road was surprisingly better. The canopy of trees had protected the road from the driving rains somewhat. As the exhausted women plodded along the dark-mudded road, the trees around them suddenly came alive.
Men were pouring out of the woods, men with weapons, from both sides of the road. There were dozens of them, certainly more than the twenty men that surrounded Courtly and Isadora, and when the harrowing cry of men went up as they burst from the trees, the little, gray palfrey bolted, dumping both Courtly and Isadora onto the wet, soft earth.
As Courtly leapt to her feet and pulled Isadora up beside her, St. Héver bellowed commands for his men to surround the women and made his way back to them to protect them. But he was a lone knight with only twenty men-at-arms as six very big knights on very big horses came bursting out of the trees, heading directly for them. St. Héver was no fool. He saw the fine weaponry and the seasoned horses, especially a distinctive black and white jennet. He’d seen that horse before, most recently at Kennington House, so he knew who the men were. He ordered his soldiers to drop their weapons and surrender on the spot because there was no use in fighting the Lords of Thunder. He gave up without a struggle.
Without a fight to be had, the de Shera men came to an uncertain halt, surrounding the de Lara party as the six massive knights rode up. Maximus, leading the charge, flipped up his visor and fixed on St. Héver.
This was not the situation Maximus had planned on. He had expected fighting and killing, and in spite of what he told Gallus, he intended to do most of the killing, unwilling to leave witnesses to his abduction of Courtly. What he didn’t expect was for St. Héver to surrender before the fight even began. It was a brilliant move on St. Héver’s part, knowing that the de Shera war machine wouldn’t murder men who had surrendered. It simply wasn’t done. Now, the situation Maximus had hoped for was already going awry. Now, he would have to out-fox St. Héver.
“I do not wish to kill you, St. Héver,” he said, his voice loud and steady. “I simply want Lady Courtly and I will be along my way.”
St. Héver was a young knight, that was true, but he was exceedingly clever. He moved to Courtly in a gesture that suggested to Maximus that he could easily do what he wanted to with the woman before Maximus could stop him, up to and including killing her. It wasn’t what he intended to do but he knew he was at a distinct disadvantage. He had to show that the de Sheras didn’t have him completely defeated. There was still fight in him and, consequently, room for negotiation.
“I am deeply regretful that I cannot comply, my lord,” he said to Maximus. “I have been instructed to take Lady Courtly and her sister back to Trelystan. Those are my orders.”
Maximus looked at Gallus, who was focused on the young and strong knight. Gallus knew that Maximus had been hoping for a fight. He wasn’t a fool. He knew how his brother thought, and he also knew that St. Héver’s surrender had upset Maximus’ plans for a murder spree. Not to say that he wasn’t impressed by St. Héver’s move, but now he had some quick thinking to do before Maximus began swinging his sword like a madman. Gallus flipped up his visor to better see St. Héver.
“I understand your orders, St. Héver,” Gallus said. “But we intend to make it so you do not carry them out. We can do this peacefully or we can do it violently. The choice is yours.”
St. Héver was in a bind and he knew it. “You know that I simply cannot turn her over to you, my lord.”
“I know.”
“Then I suppose you are going to have to take her by force.”
Gallus looked at Maximus, who immediately dismounted his steed and unsheathed his broadsword, a wicked looking thing with a serrated edge on one side. It was designed to slice and cut, and surely there was no more feared weapon in the arsenal of Simon de Montfort. Everyone knew of the Thunder Warrior’s horrific sword that was known to cut men in half. But Maximus paused a moment, looking at St. Héver.
“Are you sure you will not surrender her peacefully?” he asked.
St. Héver knew what was coming. God help him, he knew and he was calm. “I cannot, my lord.”
“St. Héver,” Gallus said. “Swear fealty to me. You are an honorable and strong knight. I could use you in my stable.”
It was an attempt to diffuse the situation but St. Héver, remorsefully, shook his head. “I have sworn fealty to Lord de Lara,” he said. “I would not be an honorable knight to switch lieges so quickly at the first sign of a threat. I regret that I must decline, my lord.”
Maximus cocked his head. “I do not want to kill you,” he said. “But know that in order to achieve my wants, I will kill you and all of your men without hesitation.”
St. Héver nodded
steadily. “I realize that, my lord. You must do as you must.”
Courtly, who had so far been standing silent and shocked throughout the entire exchange, spoke up.
“Nay,” she said, putting herself between St. Héver and Maximus. Her focus, beseeching, was on Maximus. “Please do not kill him. He is only doing what he was told to do.”
Maximus cocked an eyebrow at her. “I will speak with you when all of this is settled,” he said, rather ominously. “I will tell you just what I think of your running off and returning to your father.”
Courtly sighed heavily. “Maximus, I had to,” she said. “I explained everything in the note I left you.”
Maximus glared at her. He wanted nothing more than to spank her and then hug her, in that order. To have her so close and being unable to pull her into his arms was sheer torture. But he didn’t want to get into a big discussion with her for all to hear, so he moved to the horse next to him where Tiberius was mounted. He faced away from Courtly, and consequently St. Héver, as he spoke to his brother.
“I do not want to kill St. Héver,” he said to Tiberius. “I did not expect to find him here leading the escort. He is an honorable and good knight, but it is clear he will not turn her over. What do I do?”
Tiberius had his eyes on St. Héver and the rest of the de Lara men. He, too, dismounted his horse, standing next to his brother, still facing the de Lara group.
“You have two choices,” Tiberius muttered. “Either kill the man and all of his soldiers like you planned to do all along, or….”
Maximus scowled at him. “I never said I planned to kill them all along.”
Tiberius shot him a wry expression. “I know you, dear brother. I know how you think.”
Insulted, Maximus looked away. “I did not count on St. Héver,” he repeated. “What else can I do?”
Tiberius cocked an eyebrow at him. “I was getting to that,” he said. “Or we can take them someplace and imprison them so they cannot return to de Lara and tell them what they know.”
Maximus was interested. “Imprison them for how long?”
Tiberius shrugged. “Until you give de Lara grandchildren, at least.”
Maximus pursed his lips wryly in response but he understood the man’s point. There was no knowing how long they would have to keep the men imprisoned. Before he could reply, Gallus came around the back of Maximus’ horse.
“What are you two muttering about?” he demanded quietly. “To see you in conference makes you look indecisive. What are you talking about?”
Maximus and Tiberius looked at their brother. “Tiberius suggests we take St. Héver and his men and imprison them somewhere,” Maximus said. “At least for a time. I am agreeable to this because I do not want to outright kill St. Héver. He is a good man.”
“He is also a very good fighter,” Gallus said. “There could be a chance of you losing to him, but we will leave that discussion for another day. Imprison them, you say? I would be agreeable to that as well. We can take them back to Oxford Castle and put them in the vault there. De Montfort was staying at the castle but, as of this morning, he is moving on to London. I will speak with the castle constable and have him hold these men for a month or so, at least until we can figure out what to do with them.”
It was the best of terms all three of them could come up with. Maximus looked over his shoulder to see St. Héver still standing very close to Courtly. “But before we can do any of that, I must remove Courtly from St. Héver’s custody,” he mumbled. “There may be a bitter battle here today yet.”
Gallus looked over at the de Lara knight as well. “Your only hope of not fighting him is to convince the lady to come with you peacefully,” he said quietly. “Mayhap she can convince St. Héver not to try and stop her.”
Maximus lifted his eyebrows. “Mayhap,” he said, his gaze still on Courtly and St. Héver. He began to move towards them. “Let us find out.”
With that, he broke away from his brothers and moved towards Courtly, with St. Héver standing a few feet away from her. His sword was still in his hand and could be raised quite swiftly should he decide to go on the offensive. He hoped he didn’t have to, at least not against St. Héver. That being the case, he had to make his proposal plain for all to hear. He focused on Courtly.
“It is my intention to take you with me, my lady,” he said. “That is why I have intercepted this escort. I understand St. Héver has his orders, but the fact remains that I will take you one way or another. I will give you a moment to convince St. Héver not to fight back. Make it clear to him that I will kill him if he does.”
Courtly gazed at Maximus, seeing the beautiful, bearded face that she loved so well, her heart breaking into a million pieces of sorrow.
“Max,” she breathed, admonishingly. “I went back to Kennington for a reason. It was to keep my father from attacking you and wreaking havoc. Do you think I want to put you at risk because of him? Do you think I want to put your brothers or your men or even Lady Jeniver at risk because of my father? Of course I do not. You have all shown me the most wonderful time of my life and I cannot jeopardize all of you like that. I made this clear in the note I left for you. I told you not to come for me.”
Maximus was starting to feel some anguish. He couldn’t quite grasp that she wasn’t instantly eager to go with him. She was still speaking of protecting all of them from her father’s madness.
“I cannot help but come for you,” he said, quietly, knowing that he was speaking for all to hear and struggling not to become embarrassed about it. Maximus de Shera was a warrior with no emotion. Now, he was showing emotion and in unfamiliar waters. “Asking me not to come for you is like asking me not to breathe. I realize you thought you were saving us all from your father’s wrath, but some things are worth fighting for and risking one’s self for. I thought we had a love that was worth these things, but if I am wrong, please tell me. I do not want to fight for something that you do not feel strongly about.”
It was a shot to the heart. Courtly felt tears popping to her eyes, blinking rapidly to chase them away.
“I feel more strongly about it than you can know,” she said quietly. “It is not about fighting for something. It is about protecting people I have come to adore. It is about saving you.”
He was gladdened by her words, touched beyond measure. He smiled faintly. “I do not need protecting, although I thank you for your concern,” he said. “I have been fighting for many years, love. I can handle the Kellen de Laras of this world. But what I cannot handle is being away from you, not even for a moment.”
It was such a sweet thing to say, now in front of everyone, for all to hear. Now, everyone knew what Maximus felt but he realized that he hardly cared. It was the truth and now was the time for total truth. Men’s lives, his life, was at stake.
“Do you feel that, already, we have a love worth fighting for, then?” Courtly asked softly. “We have known each other so short a time.”
He knew there were scores of men, standing around, listening. At that moment, he didn’t care.
“I knew I loved you within the first few minutes of knowing you,” he said. “I am a man of firm beliefs and firm decisions. I cannot do anything without my whole heart. You already have my whole heart, Courtly. I cannot walk away from you.”
Even though Courtly was grinning broadly, the tears came. She laughed at herself, at the situation, and at her unmitigated joy in general. As she wiped the tears off her face, Isadora moved over to St. Héver.
The child was looking at the big, blond knight, even going so far as to slip her hand into his big, gloved one, the hand that wasn’t holding the sword. When he looked down at her, she gazed up at him with her big, blue eyes.
“Can you not simply let her go?” she asked the knight. “I know you like her very much but she likes Sir Maximus. You want to see her happy, don’t you?”
St. Héver’s expression remained steady as the child divulged some very private information. He had no idea how
she knew what he felt, although he supposed, in hindsight, that he hadn’t been very good at hiding his feelings, once. About a year ago, he’d been fairly obvious about it to Courtly but, fortunately, Kellen had not caught on. But his infatuation with her was over. There had never been any hope between them.
He wasn’t bitter about it. But in listening to the conversation between Maximus and Courtly, he was starting to feel a sense of defeat. Defeat because he knew love was something he could not fight. There was no defense against it. Courtly de Lara had been a fairly lonely lady for several years, thanks to her father. St. Héver had watched the man chase away at least two very good, marital prospects for his daughter among the six or seven that had come to vie for her hand. Even if St. Héver didn’t have feelings for her any longer, it still wasn’t right that she should be denied what he himself had been. He knew he shouldn’t relent but he was starting to topple. He squeezed Isadora’s hand as he spoke to Maximus.
“My lord,” he said. “May we have a word without weapons present?”
Maximus immediately complied. He handed his sword over to Tiberius and walked away from the group, down the road, as St. Héver paralleled his path on the opposite side of the road. When they were several yards from the group, they came together in the middle of the muddy, uneven path. Maximus faced St. Héver expectantly.
“It would seem that we have something to discuss, my lord,” St. Héver said quietly. “You want Lady Courtly but I am bound to take her to Trelystan.”
Maximus’ expression held steady. “You love her?”
St. Héver wasn’t surprised by the question but he struggled not to be embarrassed by it. “No longer,” he admitted. “There was a time I did but she did not return those feelings. Still, she has remained kind and considerate towards me. She is a very kind and gracious woman in general.”
England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 21
