A Dishonorable Knight(57)



"Hush woman!" the captain shouted in English.

Elena ignored him long enough to say, "--Cardiff."

Gareth stared at Elena in confusion but snapped to attention when the captain said, "I suppose it's too much to hope you speak English."

"I--I speak a little, my lord."

"How nice," the captain said snidely. "Now suppose you tell me where you came from."

Elena stared at Gareth, willing him to give the answers she had already given, but he resisted the urge to look at her for confirmation.

"We live in Gwynedd."

"Yes, I know that. Your charming wife managed to babble that much to me," he said in a tone whose politeness was belied by the razor sharpness below it.

Elena could feel the relief course through Gareth. "We live in Bjaeneau Ffestiniog. We are traveling to--" Gareth paused and Elena prayed he would remember. "Cardiff in South Glamorgan."

"You wouldn't happen to be going by way of Aberystwyth, would you?"

"Aberystwyth? That's nowhere near Cardiff."

"I realize that. But--"

"Aberystwyth?" Elena asked, tugging on Gareth's arm. In rapid Welsh she continued, "Is there a fair on at Aberystwyth? You promised we would go, husband. Remember? When you made me miss the last one?"

Behind him, one of the soldiers laughed until the captain glared at him sharply. The soldier sobered instantly. The captain did not laugh or even smile. He merely scowled harder.

"There are a pack of traitors on the loose in these woods. Have you seen anyone in the last few days?"

"No, my lord. Although we did hear something in the brush last night. Weren't sure if it was man or beast, but it didn't bother us so we let it be."

"And where were you last night?"

"About two miles due north," Gareth lied.

The captain studied Gareth and Elena for several moments before turning away. He took a step and then turned back. "Gruffydd, was it?"

"Yes, my lord," Gareth said hesitantly.

"And your wife's name was...?"

Elena tugged impatiently on his sleeve and said in Welsh, "Are we going to stop and see Bryant's betrothed on our way, husband?"

"Another word from you and I'll have you bound and gagged," the captain shouted at Elena.

"My wife's name is Marared. I believe in English it is Margaret."

"Of course," said the captain. "Gruffydd, you and Marared had best watch yourselves. Traitors are at work in your country and they care not who they kill or maim. Why in Machynlleth, they murdered an honest innkeeper and his wife who had given them food and shelter during the rains." The captain turned away and Elena felt her stomach clench. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Gareth’s arm muscles tighten in rage as the soldiers mounted their horses and rode west.

When they were out of sight, Elena spoke. "They," she began. “They killed those people, didn't they? Those people who helped us."

Gareth nodded and because he didn't know what else to do, took her in his arms and held her tightly.

"But how could they have found out?"

"One of the villagers probably told them."

"But...I thought the Welsh always stood with each other against the English."

"Not always. As in any country, there are those who seek to gain the most from whoever is in power." And then, trying to distract her from the deaths of the innkeeper and his wife, "That was fast thinking, telling them we were wed and traveling to Cardiff. I doubt I could have done so well on such short notice."

"I was sure we wouldn't live to see another sunset," Elena said suddenly shaking uncontrollably from a belated case of nerves.

Remorse and guilt swamped Gareth. "I'm sorry my lady. Ever since you've been under my care, you've been in more danger than if you had tried to walk alone back to Middleham. I have needlessly risked your life time and again. You must think Wales the most bloodthirsty country on God's planet."

Elena lifted her head from his chest and stared at him perplexedly, her fear forgotten. With a small shake of her head she said, "On the contrary, I have never felt such a sense of home and belonging. I would not trade the last six weeks for the rest of my life."

"But sleeping on the road...you nearly died trying to warn us about the soldiers--"

"Do you jest? Compared to waiting on Lady Elizabeth hand and foot, I've had it easy."

Morrison, Michelle's Books