Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Thou needs to be alert today, Gareth, for it is Tristan’s big day. Are you all right? You seem different.”

  “I will try to be more alert, sir,” Noelle said as she ducked back out of the tent before he could ask any questions. Quickly, she perched on the stool and finished sharpening the sword.

  “You did not tell me Sir Nicholas was in there,” she hissed in a very low voice that Nicholas would not hear.

  “Should it matter, Gareth? I thought ye and Sir Nicholas fared well?”

  Drat. She’d forgotten who she was pretending to be. It shouldn’t matter that she’d seen the man half-dressed. It shouldn’t matter that her blood ran through her body at twice the speed it normally did just from looking at Sir Nicholas. “He just surprised me, that is all,” she said lamely.

  The squire nodded and Noelle was grateful that he had apparently accepted her explanation.

  The sword was easy enough to sharpen, but the spear-point would be a little more difficult. As Noelle picked up the spear, Nicholas emerged from the tent.

  “Ector, I am going to check on the preparation for the knighting ceremony. Do you have everything ready for practice? I need to make up for the time I lost when I was ill.”

  “Aye,” Ector said. “Ye missed several days with the fever. Dirk said yer sickness was not all that unpleasant, though, with the Lady Noelle tending to ye.” Ector grinned.

  “Dirk has been mouthy of late. What did he say?”

  “Well—” Ector hesitated.

  “Ector!” Nicholas sent him a look that brooked no argument.

  “Dirk said the beautiful lady took care of ye, so if ye had died, at least ye’d have gone happy.” Ector chuckled.

  Nicholas frowned. “I think Dirk must need more to do if he has time to gossip like a woman. I will see what I can arrange to keep him busy,” Nicholas said and turned to Noelle. “That spear-point is tricky. You must hold it correctly. Here, let me show you,” Nicholas said as he moved behind Noelle and placed his arms around her shoulders. He showed her the right angle to hold the spear-point. “Like this.” Unable to speak for the trembling she felt within, Noelle nodded.

  When Nicholas straightened, he gave her a curious look and Noelle held her breath.

  “Have you been to the castle to see Lady Noelle today? You smell like her roses.”

  Now what was she going to say? “Aye. I went with Tristan this morning. She is ill.”

  “What is wrong with her?”

  Did he sound worried? Nay, his concern was just her hopeful imagination. Why had Dirk teased Nicholas about her? It was evident he didn’t like it. Then she remembered the kiss. Nicholas didn’t seem to have a problem with kissing her.

  “Gareth, are you daft today?” Nicholas asked, the impatience evident in his voice.

  “I do not know, sir,” Noelle rushed to say. “She just feels poorly and wishes to rest in bed. That is all that Tristan said. Perhaps it is one of those womanly maladies.”

  “I see,” Nicholas said. He frowned, then turned and started for the berfrois—the spectator stands.

  “Do not mind him,” Ector said as he watched Nicholas stride away. “He has been grumpier than usual this day.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “Dirk said it was because of the fever.” Ector laughed as if he remembered something Dirk had said. “Dirk was angry yesterday. He said Sir Nicholas must have been touched by the fever. I said, ‘Why don’t ye tell him?’ ” Ector chuckled again. “No one would make the mistake of telling such a thing to Sir Nicholas. Not if he wished to see another day.”

  This time Noelle laughed. “Dirk is brawny enough to speak his mind to Nicholas.”

  “Aye, and well enough he does,” Ector said. “But he is also wise enough to know when not to test Nicholas’s temper. That could be worse than tangling with a live, fire-breathing dragon.”

  Noelle looked at the spear’s edges, then tested it with her finger. “I think I have finished.” When she glanced up, three ladies were walking their way.

  “Ector,” Lady Clarisse said in a silky voice. “Where is Sir Nicholas? I must talk to him.”

  This was the first time Noelle had a chance to really look at Clarisse. They had been in the same room several times, but had never officially been introduced. Clarisse was very pretty with long, brown hair braided down her back and held loosely with ribbons. She appeared so feminine and ladylike and perfect that Noelle could not understand why Nicholas did not desire the lady.

  “Sir Nicholas has gone over to the jousting field, milady,” Ector said.

  “Then I shall go and see him,” Lady Clarisse said as she walked off.

  Noelle had the strangest desire to scratch the woman’s eyes out. It was an odd feeling, one she’d never experienced before, but in her position as Tristan’s squire she could do nothing but let her go.

  Noelle got to her feet, thanked Ector, and then went back to Tristan’s tent. But as she walked away her gaze was on Lady Clarisse, who stood speaking to Nicholas.

  He nodded several times, then took Clarisse’s elbow and led her back toward the castle.

  A knot formed in Noelle’s throat as she watched Nicholas walk off with another woman. It was silly, she knew. Guinevere had said that he cared nothing for Clarisse, but for some reason Noelle was ignoring any logical thoughts. All she could think was that Nicholas was touching Clarisse and not her. Why did he have to walk back with her? Had he changed his mind about the lady? After kissing Noelle last night, had he found her lacking so much that he now wanted Clarisse?

  This feeling ... it was not one Noelle cared for. Her stomach felt as if it were twisted in a knot.

  When she reached the tent, Tristan stepped out. He was dressed in garments of pure white made especially for the occasion, making her forget about her anger for the moment.

  “Tristan. You are beautiful,” Noelle said as she stared at her brother.

  He frowned. “Noelle, men are bold. They are brave, but they are not beautiful.”

  Noelle laughed releasing some of her tension. “If you say so. Shall I walk with you?”

  “Aye. Just remember, you are my squire and not my sister.”

  “I will be dutiful and will walk at least one step behind you at all times, dear brother.”

  They marched in between the pavilions to the jousting fields. A platform had been set up next to the berfrois. As they approached trumpets blared and the king stepped up on the platform. The priest stood beside him. Father John held Tristan’s sword which had been blessed the night before in the chapel.

  The other knights cheered Tristan as he stepped in front of the king. Noelle stood back with the other squires and pages and watched the other knights, who seemed truly happy for her brother. And she couldn’t be prouder. Tears sprang to her eyes as Tristan knelt before the king. Noelle blinked several times, trying to keep back the tears. A squire would never weep like a girl.

  The king raised the hilt of his sword with its tip pointed toward heaven. Arthur extended his arms, and Tristan kissed the hilt of his own sword. Next Arthur lowered the blade and set it on Tristan’s right shoulder. “Do you swear to be gentle to the weak and courageous before the strong?”

  “I swear, sire.”

  “Do you swear to be terrible to the wicked and the evildoer?”

  “I swear, sire.”

  Arthur placed the blade on Tristan’s other shoulder. “Do you swear to defend the helpless and hold all women as sacred?”

  “I swear, sire.”

  “And lastly, do you swear to be gentle in deed, pure in friendship, and faithful in love?”

  Noelle sighed. Faithful in love? If Nicholas loved her, would he be faithful? Through all that she’d heard, the prospect of such a thing didn’t sound likely. But Nicholas was a knight of the Round Table, and he’d taken the same oath. Her brother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I swear, sire.”

  “I hereby dub you Tristan of Cranborne. Rise, Sir Tristan.”

 
Noelle kept her head bent so no one could see her tears as she made her way to retrieve Tristan’s horse.

  When she returned, she held the horse’s bridle and waited as the king gave the colee—an open-handed whack—knocking Tristan completely off his feet. The colee was given to each knight so he wouldn’t forget the oath just administered.

  She kept the horse steady as Tristan mounted and reached down for the reins. Noelle gave him a small smile, then handed him his lance and shield. He nodded, turned and galloped toward the end of the field to the cheers of the other knights.

  As Noelle stood watching her brother, Dirk came up behind her. He slapped her on the back, nearly knocking the breath from her. The man didn’t know his own strength.

  “He’ll make a fine one,” Dirk said.

  Noelle took a deep breath. “Aye,” she said in a low voice.

  “I am surprised his sister is not present.”

  “Heard she was feeling poorly,” Noelle said.

  “It is probably best. At least Nicholas will keep his mind on his training.”

  Noelle wanted to smile. Did she really have such an effect on Nicholas? She would like to ask Dirk more, but couldn’t without him figuring out she was no lad. “I like Lady Noelle.”

  “What happened to yer voice, lad? Is yer voice changing? Yer starting to sound like a lass.”

  “Sick,” Noelle mumbled. “I must leave,” she said as she slipped away from Dirk. She did glance at Tristan, who was attacking the quintain, a dummy fashioned of chain mail covered with a shield and set on a post for the knight to practice with. The other knights were mounting their destriers, too, so they could join in the practicing.

  Noelle hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going, and ran into Nicholas. “Sorry, sir,” she said quickly averting her head.

  Nicholas swatted her backside as he passed by her.

  “Good job, lad. Keep up the good work, and mayhap you will be a knight one day.” He didn’t wait for her reply, but kept moving toward the field.

  Noelle watched his back. Such a strong back, she thought. Then she smiled. What would Nicholas say if she pulled off her hat and challenged him at his own game?

  It was a shame that she lacked the nerve to find out.

  CHAPTER 12

  The feast had been long tonight, celebrating Tristan’s knighthood. Now, back in her room, she could relax.

  It was a good thing that Noelle had learned to be self-sufficient because Isabelle had drunk a little too much wine and probably couldn’t help Noelle undress if her life depended on it.

  Noelle had dismissed them so Carolyn could help Isabelle. She smiled at the thought of her ladies-in-waiting, and she could still see that silly grin on Isabelle’s face.

  Noelle was preparing to undress by herself when someone rapped at her chamber door. Quickly, she retied her belt and went to the door to find a servant who looked most agitated.

  “Mi-milady,” the maid stammered, then paused. “I am sorry to disturb you, but a man named David bears news for you from Cranborne.”

  “Lead the way,” Noelle said as she pulled the door closed and followed the maid back to the Great Hall.

  She spotted David, pacing the floor, and an apprehensive shiver went up her spine. The moment David saw her, he quit his pacing and turned to her, his expression grim.

  “Sir Meleagant’s army is approaching Cranborne!” David blurted out.

  King Arthur had just entered the Great Hall. “Sire.” David bowed before the king. “Meleagant is preparing to attack Cranborne. I asked for Sir Tristan, but they said he was not here. Sir John said I had to find Sir Tristan and Lady Noelle.”

  “It cannot be,” Noelle interrupted David’s rambling. “We were told he had attacked the south.”

  “All I can tell you, milady, is that there were many soldiers, and they carried Meleagant’s banner. Sir John sent me for help. Tristan must return and bring anyone else we can find.”

  “I have sent a messenger for Tristan,” the king said. “He has already returned to his pavilion.”

  “I must go, too,” Noelle said.

  King Arthur crossed his arms and rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. “This is the third such attack,” he said. “Sir Gavin has yet to return from the south, so I have no report of what has transpired. Evidently, Meleagant sent some of his men to one location while he attacked elsewhere. I wonder what game he is about.”

  Just then, Tristan and Nicholas swept into the Great Hall, answering the king’s summons. Neither had changed the clothes they had worn to the feast and both were still a little in their cups.

  Arthur motioned for both to join them.

  “Sire,” Tristan said as he greeted the king with an unsteady bow.

  “You wish to see us, sire?” Sir Nicholas asked.

  “Cranborne is under attack!” Noelle blurted out.

  “Is this true, David?” Tristan asked. “Who?”

  “I just told you it was,” Noelle snapped but her brother ignored her as all men ignored women.

  “It was Meleagant! I saw his Golden Stag banner,” David said.

  “Then we shall ride,” Tristan said pulling himself together.

  “You lack sufficient soldiers,” Arthur said. “Nicholas and his men shall ride with you. If you find that you need more men, dispatch a messenger.”

  “By your leave,” Nicholas said as he bowed, preparing to go. He, too, had sobered quickly.

  “I shall go with you,” Noelle said in a loud voice aimed to gain their attention.

  “Nay,” Nicholas said looking sharply at her. “It is too dangerous for a woman.”

  “But they are my people,” Noelle insisted.

  “Lady Noelle is right,” King Arthur interjected. “She should go, but kept safely away from the fighting. Again, send word if you need reinforcements, but I know from your past battles that you always get the job done. I am going to make certain that Camelot is well protected. If I know Meleagant, he could be planning yet another surprise attack. He has always wanted Camelot.”

  Nicholas said nothing as he leveled his gaze on Noelle. She shivered. He showed absolutely no emotion as a coldness settled in his eyes. Noelle realized that he was very angry at her boldness, but she was just as determined as he. He would have to learn that he couldn’t always have his way.

  Tristan bowed. “I will watch after my sister, sire.”

  “Let me get my cloak and I will meet you in the bailey,” Noelle said, then hurried to her chamber.

  Back in her room, Noelle fetched her cloak and slipped it on. “Isabelle. Carolyn,” she called, wishing she didn’t have to wake them, but they would be worried if she didn’t.

  Her ladies-in-waiting came stumbling sleepily into the room.

  “A-are we going somewhere, milady?” Isabelle asked as she smothered a yawn.

  “Nay. I merely needed to tell you I am riding to Cranborne. It is under attack. I will be back as soon as possible, or I will send for you.”

  “Be careful, milady,” Carolyn said.

  “Is Sir Gavin back?” Isabelle asked as she placed her hand on the wall to steady herself. “Is he going with you?”

  “Nay,” Noelle said as she walked through the door.

  “Then what is the use of going?” Isabelle yelled at Noelle’s back. “Our army is not large.”

  “Sir Nicholas is going with us.”

  “Oooo,” Isabelle said.

  Noelle didn’t bother to stop, but hurried down the hall. She could well imagine the smirk on Isabelle’s face, but it was nothing like Isabelle imagined.

  Ever since Noelle had kissed Nicholas, he didn’t seem to know that she lived.

  Prince Meleagant sat upon his horse on a small hill facing Cranborne Castle. The Prince of Death frowned. “This could have been easy. Now Sir John will pay the price for going against me.”

  “What did he do?” Meleagant’s first-in-command asked. “I thought you wanted the castle.”

  “Aye. But I t
hought to take it without a fight,” Meleagant growled. Then he added, “John once promised his sister to me, and then Cranborne would fall under my protection. Instead, he found Arthur’s offer more appealing.” Meleagant blew out his breath in disgust. “John is such a weakling. Look how he has let the castle run down since his father’s death. He does not deserve to live. Now that he has betrayed me, his life will be short.

  “It is a shame. I think I would have liked to have had the tender Noelle.” Meleagant turned in his saddle and raised his hand. “Attack! Burn everything to the ground!”

  Nicholas’s small army had ridden all night. Now the sun began to streak the earth with bright orange, adding some measure of warmth, but it was still cold enough to see one’s breath in the morning air.

  Noelle could smell the smoke before they actually rode to the top of the hill. A dark, hazy cloud surrounded Cranborne and made her breath catch in her throat as she rode up beside her brother. “This does not look good.”

  “We are too late,” Tristan said. “Meleagant has won.”

  “Aye,” Nicholas agreed. “We will have to retake the castle.” Nicholas turned and motioned for Dirk to join them at the crest of the hill.

  “Take half the men and attack from the back side. We will have the archers shoot first in hopes of clearing a path for us to scale the walls.”

  “Wait! There is a secret entrance on the back wall of the castle,” Noelle said. “If we can go in with a few men and surprise the gatesmen, we can gain entrance through the main gate and save lives.”

  Nicholas looked at her. “We?”

  “I can be of help,” Noelle insisted.

  “What entrance do you speak of, my dear sister?” Tristan asked.

  “The queen’s entrance.”

  Tristan frowned. “That entrance has been barred for years.”

  “Partially. I have gone through there many times. I can show you.”

  “Nay,” Nicholas said firmly. “You will stay here at the edge of the trees. Tristan can show us the way.”