A Dishonorable Knight(13)

"I did not fall off. And if you had taken a blow like that one, you'd not be troubling me so."

Before Cynan could respond, they heard someone approaching through the forest. Trying to see in the rapidly fading light, the three men drew their swords.

"Thank God!" said Bryant when Gareth's horse stuck his nose out of the thick clump of trees.

Gareth stumbled over to Isrid and leaned heavily on his horse's neck. "Where is everyone else?"

"You mean those who lived? They are no doubt at Haddon Hall by now. Of course, a few men were not as lucky as you and they will not be rising from this God-forsaken road," said Cynan.

Gareth tried to scan the scene of the fight, but the moon had not risen and it was so dark he could barely discern the outlines of his friends much less the carnage in the road. "And the attackers?"

"They went up the road," Bryant said, gesturing in the direction Richard's troops had come from.

"We'd best be joining the living in Haddon Hall, then," Gareth said, still feeling as if he were about to lose his balance at any moment.

Neither Cynan or Bryant spoke for a moment. "We are not continuing with Richard's court," said Cynan.

"What? Why not?"

"We are returning to Wales," said Bryant. "We want you to come with us. We--"

Cynan interrupted, "Those men who attacked were Woodvilles."

"How do you know?"

"Because we were hiding in the woods, if you'll remember. We heard them talking after Richard got away."

"Meant they to kill the king?" Gareth asked incredulously. He had not thought Richard's sister-in-law, mother to Lady Elizabeth and the missing princes, would have dared try regicide.

"No," Bryant said before Cynan could speak. "They only sought to win Lady Elizabeth free. I would wager one of the women who fled north on this road was Elizabeth herself."

"But why? She was in no danger."

"Only in danger of being wed to Richard," Cynan said.

"That is ridiculous!" Gareth broke out. "That would be incestuous!" Although it was pitch black, in the silence following his cry, Gareth could easily picture each man's expression. Cynan's eyebrows were no doubt raised mockingly, arms crossed over his chest as he stared unblinking in Gareth's general direction. Bryant was most likely biting his lower lip and staring at his toe scuffing the ground. He hated when Cynan and Gareth argued, even though nothing had ever come between their friendship.

Gareth finally broke the silence. "King Richard would not do such a thing." But even to his own ears he did not sound very convinced.

"Did that bump on your head loosen you of all sense or does your 'knightly duty' prevent you from doing what is right?"

Before Gareth could respond to Cynan's taunt, Bryant said, "At least come back to Wales and see your father. He's been awfully lonely since you left."

Gareth took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. No doubt the crack in his head had allowed what common sense he had to leak onto the parched dirt of the road. "All right. I will go with you." He started to add that he wouldn't hear anymore arguments or accusations against Richard, but something stopped him. He was suddenly curious as to what his father would say about Henry Tudor.

Cynan and Bryant broke into relieved laughter. "What an adventure we shall have!" Cynan yelled as he picked his friend up in a bear hug which made Gareth's sore head pound.

"Put me down you oaf, or you will be carrying me over the Cambrian Mountains yourself!" When he had both feet on the ground he asked, "So where do we camp, oh fearless rebel?"

"'Tis too dark to travel far. Think you it will be safe if we just move into the forest?"

Gareth chewed his upper lip. "'Tis the best we can do, at least until the moon rises."

The three men made their way into the dense forest. By the time they reached a small clearing, the moon had risen, illuminating the landscape. Gareth allowed his friends to administer rudimentary medical care to his injured head and leg, gritting his teeth as their clumsy fingers cleaned and bandaged his wounds. Afterwards, they set about setting up a makeshift camp. They spread out their bedrolls and were about eat a meager supper of dried beef when they heard a woman's piercing scream. Grabbing up their weapons, they dashed back to the road. Bursting out of the thick copse of trees they stared in amazement. They had expected to find a woman beset by highway bandits or wolves. What they saw was a woman sitting on her horse in the middle of the empty road. Well, not quite empty, Gareth thought. Now that the moon was up, he could clearly see the ten or twelve dead bodies that were the result of the earlier melee.