A Dishonorable Knight(152)
Elena stirred the fire and brushed a short strand of hair out of her eyes.
Nearly an hour passed before the Welshman returned.
"Neither man holds Lichfield. They are gathering near Market Bosworth, halfway between here and Leicester. They will no doubt come to battle on the morrow.” Disappointment was evident in Dafydd’s voice. “There is no way we can arrive before the battle is over. The day is spent and they will surely fight come dawn's first rays."
“Then let us travel all night.”
Dafydd shook his head. “No. You are exhausted. My humble presence will not determine the course of the battle one way or the other. We will leave at first light.”
Elena ignored him and rose to saddle her horse. “We leave now.”
“My lady,” Dafydd said with a chuckle. “Sir Gareth is either the strongest-willed man alive or the most hen-pecked!”
“I’m sure he would say both,” Elena said with her first smile in days.
***
The dawn broke brilliant and clear over the horizon. Elena and her escort rode unmolested into the Tudor camp after one of the Welsh sentries recognized Dafydd. Dafydd left her with the pages and squires who were too young to fight.
“For your own safety, my lady, please stay here. I would not wish to face your Sir Gareth should aught happen to you.”
“Good luck, Dafydd. And…have a care,” Elena replied, though she had no intention of obeying him. She must find Gareth, must see him before he took the field in case this battle was–no, she would not consider his death.
Elena took off in the direction Dafydd had taken. Surely he sought the Welsh troops. She could just see his head bobbing as his loping gait carried him through the somber men who prepared for battle. Though the morn was clear and sweet, there was a heaviness in the air that prevented the usual morning banter and laughter. Men would die today, Elena thought. Perhaps these very men. Elena crossed herself. So long as it was not Gareth!
A troop of squires leading their knight’s warhorses crossed between her and Dafydd. She jumped to keep sight of his head, but all she saw were muscled withers and flanks, streaming manes and tails.
When the horses had passed, Elena ran to catch up with Dafydd, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, she tugged at her cropped hair. Where could he be?
“You there, boy!” A large hand grabbed her shoulder and swung her around. “Do you not heed your master’s call?” A slender blonde man scowled at her. He was long of chin and broad of brow, but handsome nonetheless. But for his helm he was fully armored.
“You are clearly too young to be fighting. You are not trying to sneak onto the field are you? Where is your knight?”
“Sire,” a man panted as he ran up to the blonde man. “Lord Stanley yet awaits with his troops. He did not heed your summons, but neither does he join Richard’s men.”
The blonde man’s mouth twisted wryly. “He no doubt waits to judge who will emerge victorious before committing himself. Send word to him that we will await his leisure amongst the bodies of Richard’s men.”
The messenger appeared confused, but obeyed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
As the blonde man turned back to Elena, she suddenly realized who he was and sank into a curtsey. Belatedly realizing that young boys did not curtsey, she continued down to the ground, affecting a faint.
“Hold, there,” Henry Tudor said as he bent to help her up. “Are you ill?”
“Nay, sire. Only...only hungry. ‘Tis been a while since I’ve eaten.”
Henry frowned. “You’ve not eaten and you wander unarmored through the ranks. I will have words for your knight. Who is master of your household, boy?”
Elena thought frantically. She was about to name Gareth’s father, but did not want to gain him trouble from the would-be king. “I belong to no household, sire. I only sought to...to help Your Grace in any way possible.”
Henry rumpled her hair and smiled indulgently. “‘Tis very brave of you, if foolhardy. You’ll do no good if you collapse from hunger.” He glanced up as his trumpeters called his men into formation. His squire waited at his elbow to hand him his helm. “You can help me most now by staying alive. Should I emerge victorious this day, I will need such devoted men as you. Join my pages with the baggage. You will be safe there.”
“Yes, your grace,” Elena said, bowing and backing away as quickly as possible. There was no way she would be able to find Gareth now, with thousands of men moving toward the battlefield. She began to make her way to the back of the lines but was swept forward by the rush of troops.