A Dishonorable Knight(19)
Elena stared at Cynan. What did she care of the marrying tendencies of the Welsh? But glancing at Bryant, who was turning five shades of red, she forbore from saying so. Bryant had at least treated her with some measure of respect and consideration for her station.
"Are you married?" she asked Cynan, amazed that she was reduced to making small talk with a man-at-arms.
"Is he ever!" Bryant burst out, clearly thankful that Elena had nipped Cynan's gossiping in the bud. "I believe he's anxious to get me married so he won't be the only one who has to answer for his whereabouts."
"Enid worries a might too much," Cynan explained.
"Either that or she knows you well enough not to trust you!" Gareth said with a laugh. "How many skirts did you chase in your first year of marriage?"
"Leave it to you to forget that 'tis not the chasing, 'tis the catching and I haven't caught a single skirt since Enid and I were wed."
Elena was amazed at the men's crudity. Truly, few men she knew were bound by oaths of fidelity to their wives. In fact, the higher a man's rank, the more permissible it was for him to have mistresses. Still, Elena had never had to listen to discussions of such behavior.
Turning back to Elena, Cynan said, "Bryant and I have a wager as to when Gareth will wed. Bryant says 'twill be within two years, but I have high hopes that he'll hold out for at least ten." When Elena turned to glance at Gareth, Cynan asked, "Would you care to place a wager, Lady Elena?"
Elena sniffed. "I wager he never marries."
"The bachelor life for you, she's declaring, Gareth. Be he too handsome to stay with one women you think?"
"No, I simply don't think any woman would be able to put up with him for more than a fortnight."
Cynan and Bryant laughed and slapped their friend on the back.
"Seems she's just met you and she already knows you better than both of us," Cynan said.
"More like she's well versed in being difficult, herself," Gareth said, stung as he stalked off into the woods.
In spite of herself, Elena joined in Cynan and Bryant's laughter.
***
As they traveled that afternoon, Elena noticed that they were steadily climbing a gentle incline. The trees soared overhead, meeting in a canopy of pine needles overhead, filtering the light to a cool green. The layers of pine needles on the forest floor muffled the horses’ hooves and absorbed any quiet comments the men made. Elena found herself actively listening to the chatter of squirrels, and the song of birds for the first time in her life. She felt an odd sense of peace that had nothing to do with fine clothes or good food or hot, scented baths. The anger she had forced herself to maintain over the past two days slowly dissipated and Elena actually found herself enjoying her strange adventure.
They arrived at the small village that was their destination just as the sun dipped below the horizon in a brilliant splash of gold and orange. Although Elena was tired, the beauty of the sunset and the warm glow it cast over the small village only added to her sense of peace. She found herself looking forward to a real bed with an appreciation she had never before felt.
To call the village small was being generous. Elena glanced at the four stone houses that were gilded by the setting sun, becoming for a fleeting moment, as grand looking as a stone fortress or royal palace. Small children scampered in and out of the open doors, startling wandering chickens. Two women returned from the stream, carrying a heavy basket full of wet clothes between them.
Smoke drifted lazily up from two of the houses' chimneys, carrying the smell of roasting meat to the weary travelers. Elena's mouth watered at the scent and her stomach rumbled appreciatively. Taking a deep breath, she felt the peaceful quiet of the evening soak into her very bones.
"I never knew England could be so beautiful," she murmured, not intending for anyone to hear her.
"That's because you're not in England. You're in Wales," said Gareth who was walking, leading her horse.
"What? Wales? But I though you were going to take me back to King Richard?" she cried.
"I never said that. I said I would get you to safety. We did not come within a day's traveling distance of one of the border lord's keeps, so I will have to leave you at the first abbey we come across until word can be sent to Richard and he can send someone to fetch you."
"That is simply not acceptable! I can't just sit in some Welsh abbey braiding my hair while I wait for an escort to Nottingham."