|
Chronicle II, Chapter 11 Feelings for a Sovereign By William Black The real Aspen was munching on some tender grass where he stood, and only paused momentarily as Will approached. The knight sat down next his steed, allowing the great animal's shadow to hide him from the heat of the sun. "Aspen, this might be the longest day yet in Morion's realm. What do you think my chances are?" Will smiled at his horse, then replied to himself, "Not very good if I have to ask a horse!" And he let out a hearty chuckle. "Not very good indeed if all you do is talk to your horse," came a gentle response from behind the fence. Out stepped Morion, her smile bringing more than warmth to the Druid. "My Lady, what are you doing here? Where are your guards?" Will fumbled to stand up. One eyebrow arched regally and the corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk, "My dear knight, I don't need to be hounded by protectors everywhere I go. I come and go as I please. You best remember that!" She softened her voice, "May I sit here with you?" Her head tilted slightly at the question, and Will noted the sun shining off the smooth skin of her neck. For a moment he was lost in her beauty, but then remembered himself, "Uh, sure. Please..." He went to get a saddle blanket for her to sit on, but she stopped him. "Will, stop being so nervous. Come, sit here with me." Will sat down and she along side him, her hip next to his. He could feel her warmth. Or was it his? "Will? One thing has been troubling me since you revealed yourself to Lady Ann, Sir David, and myself..." she paused letting her words have an unsettling effect on her protector, "Since I knighted Sir Aspen, does that mean you now go by two names?" Will's face grew flush, "My Lady, I have gone by many names. It helps sometimes, yet I'm rather embarrassed to say that there really IS a Sir Aspen about, whose name I borrowed." "Oh?" "You're sitting in his shade." The knight jerked his head towards his mount. "You mean to say I knighted a horse?!" Morion looked at Will, then started to laugh, a very feminine hearty laugh. "He really is a fine horse. When you asked me my name, it was the first name I could think of at that moment." Will saw that she was still laughing, and he started to chuckle too. "My Druid knight, you will never cease to entertain me. Do I really unsettle you that much?" Her grin was infectious, "No... don't answer." She then took his hand in hers, "Will, do you stand a chance today against Gardain?" The knight watched a solitary cloud slowly sail across the sea blue of the sky. Then looking at her he replied with all honesty, "Beloved Lady, I don't know. I must confess, I have serious doubts." "But you defeated Dumah. That creature was god-like, but this Sir Gardain, he is only a man." "No! Not JUST a man. He is a priest, an adept, and a servant of Loki. I recognized his chanting when I heard it last night. It was in an ancient tongue, yet known to a few of us druids who studied under Morlyn. Ahhh, I see you recognize the name, but as for how dangerous Gardain is, it is not for him that I bear concern." Noticing her confusion, he explained, "Morion, the danger is in the magic all of you have so depended on your entire lives. I have made a vow that in any conflict with either Sir Gardain or Lord Banon, I will not use magic; at least not what you and I would call magic. But this is where the danger lies. If I cannot defeat one like Gardain without it, then I know you and all your brave knights cannot with it." Morion shook her head, the look of confusion obvious on her smooth features. Will looked deep into her eyes, and felt a stirring, which he didn't want. It came unbidden and with urgency. He forced it down with effort. "Morion, listen to me carefully. The magic you would use against this enemy would be turned against you. The more skillfully you wheeled it, the more it would be thrust back on you to destroy you. You wouldn't even realize what it was destroying you." Then he paused and lowered his head, "Fair Lady, I would not see you harmed by any..." She took his chin in her hand and lifted his face to hers, "I care about you too." She kissed him lightly. At his blush, she giggled, "I wonder what gives off more heat, the sun or the flush of your cheeks? But your heat I don't mind at all," she purred as she watched him. He wanted to hold her close, but his heart was unsure. "My Lady... crap, why does this always happen to me? Here I am with a beautiful woman and..." "And nothing. Take Morgan as an example; she was with her lover before his contest, certainly you can be with me?" She leered at him. "Aha, but Sir Robert lost." "Hmmm..." She arched an eyebrow at him, "Oh, all right... well then, I will just have to keep your spot reserved until later, eh?" She gave Will another light kiss and stood to leave. "I guess I better go get changed. It wouldn't look too good for the Lady of the Realm to appear like she just took a tumble in the hay before the final contest of the festival, would it?" She giggled as she started across the field. Will escorted her to the path leading to the palace. There were enough people and soldiers about that he felt she would be safe going the rest of the way alone. Besides, she was one independent woman. Before he let her continue down the path, he turned her to face him. "My Lady, thank you." "Thank me for what?" She smiled, then grew suddenly serious. "Hold on now, do you think that? Wait just a second, I didn't come to offer you comfort for the lose of Morgan... you really don't think that do you? Will just stood there feeling rather dumb. "Listen you, I came because I find you attractive and noble. You have qualities I like, and I want to get to know you better. Is that so bad? Even Ladies of the Realm have feelings and wants... my god, don't you dare degrade what I feel for you. Now go prepare yourself for battle. That, Sir William of Annsbury, is an order." She spun around and left him standing alone with his thoughts. At the moment, he wasn't sure what to think. Yet he knew that this was one woman he did not want to disappoint or tick off. He turned and walked back to Aspen with a very silly grin on his face. As he reached his mount the trumpeters sounded their horns announcing the impending event. The crowds were just making their way to the stands when from the far end of the list Sir Gardain made his appearance. A big black specter more imposing than the day before loomed high in his saddle as he rode lazily towards Will. "Hail, Sir Aspen, and well met!" He greeted heartily, but the tone of his voice was like death. "I pray you slept easily and are rested. But no, you have shadowy bags under your eyes. Is it because you dreamt of your death, or is it because you stayed up all night meddling in affairs that do not concern you!" His face remained calm, but there was a snarl to his words. Will sensed the mind-craft working its magic, subtly weaving shades of doubt around his tired mind and body. But two could play at this game, and he had learned at the hands of the Grand Master of mind-crafters, Morlyn the Druid turned warlock. Morlyn the oath-breaker. The young knight turned his back on Gardain and reached into his saddle bag, "Sir, you can call me Aspen if you wish, but I go by many names. But instead of giving you my birth name, why don't I show you something?" With that he pulled out a white surcoat and slipped it over his head. The device was a red cross on the field of a green oak tree. The legend of the Druid Knight. Gardain backed his mount up a bit, a look of doubt crossing the stony features of his face, "How dare you bear the device of a noble knight long since dead. You shall pay dearly for your insolence," he hissed loudly. "It may be you that pays dearly, my boastful friend." The voice came from a large knight approaching on foot across the field. He wore a similar surcoat with the cross, but without the oak tree. "And who the hell are you!" It was Gardain who spoke, but Will stood with his mouth open as the large knight came to stand before the champion of Lord Banon. "I am Sir Alan of Annsbury. Elder brother to this little fella here." He jerked his thumb at his bewildered brother, "And I assure you by all that is holy, he is the Druid Knight and the man who will kick your stinking hide from here to hell (and hopefully not back again)." He gave Will a humorous wink. Then turning towards Gardain he said, "You best be thinking about the very near future. You are in for the battle of your life." "Oh, and will you challenge me too? Making it a family affair?" "No, no... not that, I haven't fought professionally for many years, but one does like to keep an eye out for one's own interests. Wouldn't you agree?" His oblique phrase was missed by Gardain, but Will cocked his head in wonder. "Be on your way, for I have a word to speak in my brother's ear." Gardain scowled furiously, but nudged his mount to the side and forward heading towards Morion's stand. When they were alone, Will run up to his brother, hugging him so tight the other let out a gasp. "What by heaven are you doing here? Where is Lady Eileen? Is all well at home?" "Home? Since when is Annsbury your home?" Alan looked sadly at his brother, "As for the Lady Eileen, she is at home with Noah. He is turning out to be a fine squire, and rather handsome ladies' man. But this type of talk belongs to another time." Here Alan paused as if to choose his words more carefully, "Will, this realm is in grave danger. Some traders came to Annsbury a few months ago telling of dark nightmarish tales of an army amassing up near the Old Ruins. The armed horde... well, they are not human, or at least the traders say they don't resemble man except in the most superficial ways. I didn't believe them of course, not until one of my own men came back with similar tales. I sent out a few trackers to verify the fantastic claims. It was only a fortnight ago that one returned and he barely alive. Will, the tales are true. The average height of the monsters is nine feet, and the creatures are said to weigh more than 25 stone. As for weapons and shielding, I have little information. But I suspect from what I have gathered here, that this Gardain fellow is in league with them somehow." Will studied his brother for a long time. It was not usual for Alan to make up tales, or to give much credence to otherworldly type beings, so the Druid took what was said to heart. But doubts crept into his mind. "Why have you come Alan? " Will asked quietly, "Certainly you could have sent a messager to deliver this news. How come this sudden interest in Morion's Realm?" "Because, you fat-headed little twit, I care about you. I thought I had lost you once, I don't want to go through that again." Alan drew his brother into a sturdy bear-huge. Will hugged his brother back just as tightly, but then the trumpets blew again, and he knew that it was time to go. "Alan, go tell Lady Morion your tale, and tell her to use Arrow to do a bit of scouting. We need to know if that army is on its way here. Tell her..." Will faltered, not wanting to assume that he would win this battle, "tell her to have her engineers standing ready. If there is an impending attack, I will have need of all their skills." Will gave Alan one final hug before taking up his shield and mounting Aspen. Without further comment, he turned his mount and road out to the list. The sun was high overhead and the heat beat down repressively. Will wanted to strip off what little armor he was wearing, but dared not. He needed all the protection it would afford him. Sir Gardain loomed at the end of the field. His dark image impressive against the heat of the day. He did not appear to mind the temperature one bit. His armor seem to suck in the light and heat around it, as if to energize the creature within. Gardain shouted his challenge to Morion. "Behold your champion, my Lady." He pointed his sword in Will's direction. "Your beloved Druid returned from the dead! But we have an agreement, have we not? No magic! Command your Druid to reaffirm his pledge!" Morion stood up and motioned to Will to come to her. Will prodded Aspen to the stand. With a strong clear voice, Morion asked formally, "Oh noble protector of the Dark Crystal, do you pledge, on your honor, to uphold the agreement you, my councilors, and I have made with yonder knight? Do you swear on pain of death?" Sir Alan, moving to stand beside Morion and Sir David, looked steadily at his younger brother. Will wondered what was going through his mind. And where was Morgan? Surly she would be there to watch him champion her husband's cause. Then he caught sight of her, just to the side of the stand trying to remain inconspicuous. He understood completely, but his heart was thrilled she was there. Turning back to Morion, he stated with a firmness that brought a smile to his sovereign's eyes, "I do pledge on pain of death to practice no magic during this contest." "Then let the contest begin!" Morion looked at Gardain. Her face was serene. Will trotted to the north end of the field and took up his lance. Gardain was deprived of his original weapon, so had to make do with a standard lance. Regardless, Will thought his opponent looked just as imposing, and just as deadly. He knew Gardain was not opposed to cheating. He also knew that the most powerful magic was the sorcery of doubt. Being as tired as he was, doubts assailed him at every turn. Gardain, a priest of Loki, had powers that the Druid could not even imagine, and here he was, sworn to use no magic against this dark enemy. The trumpets blared a final time and the judge came onto the field to signal the beginning of the contest. Will was glad to see the judge looking more confident about this contest than he had the previous day when the unknown knight challenged Sir Gardain. "Noble Knights, bring honor to your Lords!" The judge's voice was loud and clear. "Begin!" His arm dropped and the contest was on. The two knights spurred their mounts racing towards one another, shields poised and lances lowered for the strike. The hooves of their mounts thundered against the dry ground. The two warriors met in a screeching clash of armor and lances. The horses reared up in fear and protest at the force of the impact; then continued to carry their riders to the opposite ends of the field. Gardain grabbed his battle-ax and wheeled recklessly about. Sir William was already baring down on him. Will was almost on top of the dark knight before Gardain knew it. The Druid choosing to use the blade of Sir Robert rather than the more bulky battle-ax or mace. This had saved him some time. Yet Gardain recovered quickly. The two knights galloped towards each other and collided with a thunderous crash. Gardain's ax bit deep into Will's shield, just missing the young knight's shoulder. Will hammered down with his blade, striking the dark knight in the metal joints between the breastplate and shoulder guard. Both warriors fighting to take the advantage while keeping their balance on the terrified chargers. They turned about trying to dislodge one from the other. Gardain swung his ax around wildly catching the Druid in the back, barely slicing through the back plate of his armor. Will flew headfirst to the ground. He felt nauseated at the impact, but struggled to his feet. Blood oozed down his back, yet he was also dimly aware of voices; some gasping in horror while others shouted encouragement to him. He stood and brought his shield up just as Gardain struck again. The battle-ax tore the shield clean out of Will's grasp. Will shook off the dizziness, and watched as Gardain wheeled about for another strike. The dark knight galloped towards him in a frenzy. Will dived into a nip-and-tuck forward roll, missing the deadly ax as it passed over him. Recovering what remained of his shield, the Druid knight stood facing his dark enemy. Gardain spun his charger around for another pass, his battle-ax, stained with Will's blood, flashed red in the noon day sun. Gardain was winning. Will knew it. The crowds knew it. Worst of all, Morion and Morgan knew it. Gardain charged at him, the ax whistling as it sliced through the air at Will's head. Again the young knight dove and rolled to avoid the attack. Recovering quickly Will spun around and hurled his shield like a discus at the back of the receding knight. Just as Gardain was wheeling around, the shield struck. The startled man lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground. Will ran to the fallen man, his sword raised to strike, but Gardain rolled towards him with a swiftness that belied his size, tripping the young knight, sending him sprawling to the ground. Both men struggled to their feet, blades drawn for the final battle. Each watching the other for an opening. Will felt his strength ebbing. He had to finish this, or be defeated. All here were counting on him, and most didn't even realize the danger they were really in. Gardain struck, his blade flashing down at the smaller knight. It was quickly deflected and Will countered, striking the big man on his helmeted head. The clang resonated across the field, but the large man didn't seem effected. He came at the Druid, his eyes red with rage. Sword blades hammered into each other in a deafening clash of steel. Will was beaten back by the more massive dark knight, yet he kept parrying the blows. Gardain continued hammering away at the weakening knight, steadily pushing him back across the field towards Morion's stand. Will was losing. At this rate, it wouldn't take long. The young knight didn't think his injury too serious, but he was exhausted. "If only I could use magic," a voice whispered in his mind. He felt a freedom in that. Yes, magic was the answer. With one swift stroke he could bury his opponent, and be done with it. "Yes, that's right! Remember your training!" The voice came unbidden. It was a voice he knew all too well. Morlyn! The oath-breaker. The dark knight suddenly swung low, trying to slice into Will's unprotected legs. His aim was off slightly, letting Will twist around avoiding contact with the blade, but the young knight turned too fast and tripped. Gardain was on top of him at once. The dark warrior's blade arched downward slicing into Will's armor. Again, Will felt his flesh being torn open, and again the sickening feeling of blood spreading out slowly under his armor. Gardain lifted his sword for another blow, just as a large shadow blotted out the sun and a horrific screech was heard from the sky. The dark knight hesitated at the sound. But Will didn't. The young knight flung himself onto the large man, casting him to the ground. With a flash of movement, Will stood with Sir Robert's blade in hand and spun quickly about. The blade arched up and around, then down at the hapless Knight of Damtree. The edge of the sword slicing deeply into the back of the dark knight's neck. Will withdrew the blade and steadied himself for another strike. But there was no movement from Gardain, save for the slow seepage of a red stain on the dusty ground. The battle was over. Will looked at the stands. The spectators' eyes were focused not on the field, but at the sky. The Druid glanced up at the bright glare of the sun, only to have a shadow fall across him again accompanied by the terrifying screech he heard before. He thought at first that it was Arrow. However, the great eagle was no where to be seen. The creature above him was bat-like with leathery wings, through which the sun's light could barely be seen. It screamed its challenge once more before wheeling towards the north and flying out of sight. The crowds stood stunned, until a shout of "Hail, Sir William! Hail to the victor!" from Morion's stand broke the silence. Then more shouts and clapping of cheer rang out. The people turned to see their sovereign and her remaining protectors cheering the Druid Knight's victory. And then they too cheered the victor. Morion, followed by Sir David, Alan, Lady Ann, and the wizard, came out to where Will still stood. The cheering crowds followed at a respectable distance. As Morion neared, a broad smile on her face, the knight of Annsbury wobbled unsteadily and then collapsed at her feet. He heard a gasp from the crowd, then her strong voice commanding a stretcher to be brought. Hers was the last voice he heard before darkness overtook him. William Black © Continues... Chronicle II, Main page |