Hope Returns
For the rest of the day after leaving the village Luke had ranged the country and lands between Strathenham and Kraigsleigh; while he saw no more men, in he late afternoon he came across the tracks of horses and men headed to Alexander’s stronghold.
As dusk passed into dark he made his makeshift pine bough bed, let Shahjeen have his rein, ate sparsely and laid himself down to rest. Luke was restless all through sleep; Enarrah, the red-eyed lion and riddles within conundrums surrounded by mystery shared his dreams. Early in the morning he made his final route back to Strathenham from the north where the postern gate would be; it was overgrown and shown decades of disuse. He walked with Shahjeen around the wall perimeter to the main gate.
+++++
Enarrah did not attempt to sleep the remaining hours of the night. She couldn’t have slept if she wanted to, at first she paced and twice she had returned to the window to stare at the north sky. The glorious lights of the Aurora in the sky had faded into the expanse of star filled sky .
She busied herself with stoking the hearth, making the huge bed and getting her clothes ready for the day.
In the midst of washing she stared at the face that looked back at her from the reflection in the wash basin. It was hers, but it wasn’t. Then Mione’s words came back to her, ‘you have grown into a beautiful woman’, she looked again at her reflection. Yes, she really was beautiful and now she knew too that only a woman could have the aching desire that she felt.
She ran her fingers over her face and hair and neck without haste, and at last her right hand lay flat between her breasts. It was warm there. The skin was actually warmer.
'Or was it?'
She walked to her writing table, sat down and drew a fresh piece of parchment from the drawer. She dipped the quill and began to make notes of her dreams. Every detail she could remember was written down; often she would stop, close her eyes, and concentrate. Everything about the dream was so real, every color, every sound, the dazzling ice palace and the incredible Unicorn. But it was the voices that she saw in her mind that stirred her heart the most.
She actually saw the low thunderous words of the deep voice, what man or creature could have made such sounds? The Unicorn spoke as if she expected Enarrah visit to there, and knew of her, what did Mione call it? ‘her realm’. Her voice, the lilting melodic sound of Mione’s voice reminded her of something, of someone – of her grandmother Alicia’s voice! Soft, vibrant and full of life and love. That was it, full of love.
Her thoughts were yanked back to reality. There he was filling her mind! – Luke! – He was nearing the castle – he was coming back! She could feel him approaching. He would be here soon. She could write no more. She dressed with haste and needed to see Heatherlyn to tell her of the dream.
She headed down the corridor to be met by the twins. Except for early morning on-duty guardsmen, the twins were often the first ones up this early in the morning. They greeted her and she had an idea.
“Good morn to you as well Broox and Ashe. There is something I wish you to do for me.” She bent down and whispered to them; they beamed with excitement, nodded and ran off toward the ramparts.
She went to the kitchen to talk to Heatherlyn, smelled the cooking aromas and realized she was hungry. As she reached the kitchen and was about to enter, Luke filled her mind again and she stopped in her tracks. She became aware she was not hungry only for food but also for him.
She burst through the kitchen portal, greeted Heatherlyn and with hushed urgency told of her dream. Realizing how excited she had become, she tried to calm herself and fully tell Heatherlyn about her dreams and Luke.
She had bread, cheese and a sweet custard. She washed all this down with warm spiced wine. Seeing the flush to Enarrah’s cheeks Heatherlyn chided, “You would do well to have dreams of unicorns and palaces more often, it improves your appetite well enough.”
Enarrah got up and headed into the bailey. He was coming.
Her Luke? Her Luke? Yes, her Luke!!
Ashe’s shrill whistle sounded from across the bailey, high on the rampart, his voice calling, “He comes round the wall Lady Enarrah, he’ll soon be at the man-gate.” She hurried to the gate.
The guard on watch smiled at the youth thinking that the lad played a prank. When one of them stopped and took a minute to look down the wall, a booming bass voice proclaimed, “ ‘tis him, ‘tis our knight. Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco returns!!”
Luke heard the guards pronouncement of his name and stood stock still, stared at his horse and said, “I didn’t give them my full name, did you my trusted friend?
“No?”
“Then I wonder who did? Robert perhaps.”
As if in answer, the great horse shook his head and stooped one hoof. Luke sidestepped as if to avoid the deadly leg and Shahjeen shoved at Luke with his great head, almost knocking him to the ground.
Luke burst out laughing, “Easy old fellow, easy!”
At this remark Shahjeen braced both fore legs and snorted.
Luke recanted, “Alright, alright, my apology young stud,” and Luke laughed even harder.
Enarrah thought she might be having another dream, she had thought that maybe... no, she was certain of it, she heard boisterous laughter coming from beyond the gate. Laughter? And why not laughter, and it grew louder. She smiled, what a beautiful sound, she thought, and her smile grew bigger and unable to help herself, she giggled. What an extraordinary man. Soon to be her husband? She would soon find out.
As the man-gate opened they both stood laughing and smiling, and their eyes met and sparkled with merriment,
“Luke! She exclaimed.”
He had never seen a more beautiful smile, anywhere, at anytime,“Enarrah!”
“Yes, yes... Lady Enarrah”, he said trying to regain his composure and bowing a little his eyes never leaving hers.
“Indeed, Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco, I believe;” the smile never leaving her lips.
The gate rose up from between them and they found themselves standing very close. He started to ask, “How did you...?”; but before he could finish the question he found himself being accosted by the twins, who could not contain their excitement. They rushed forward and hugged themselves to him, one to each side.
Castle folk began to gather and Heatherlyn watched her sons’ unabashed adoration with a smile.
Ashe and Broox spoke first one then the other, giving their report: “Master Thomas said you’d be back soon;”
“... and Captain Ivar too. We been helping watch over the castle’”
“... since we’re your Pages and all.”
“We fixed up the stables right proper, and even Sir Will said you are the Knight of the castle.”
“Just this morn Lady Enarrah said you were on your way here,”
“...so we watched and scouted for ye’...”
“and we saw you coming first,” they both exclaimed with beaming smiles.
“Did you now?” Luke said, as he continued to look into Enarrah’s sparkling green eyes.
Right then Luke realized what the boys had said and he continued, “Sir Will? Sir William? And what Sir William might that...?”
But he didn’t get to finish this inquiry either, for at that moment Shahjeen thought that he should be a more integral part of this festivity and with a shove of his head, pushed Luke forward. Luke and Enarrah went into each others’ arms. To keep from losing their balance and falling, they embraced each other.
The world stood still for Luke, time stopped and all he could feel was the Enarrah’s soft velvety warmth enfolding him. She was beautiful. All he could hear was the beating of their two hearts as a wave of happiness washed over him. With reluctance he came to the rest of his senses; lucky that, he thought. For it was only the proximity of the growing crowd of castle folk that kept him from entwining his body around this incredible woman even tighter and kissing her senseless.
'Was she the one he’d been searching for all his life?'
Enarrah’s mind exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors and soaring clouds. Sensations of heat and light coursed through her veins like molten fire. She felt Luke’s arm and chest muscles ripple and cord as she held him close. Her heart lept and the rush of goodness and wonder that caressed her spirit was all but overwhelming.
The seconds ticked by, or maybe they were minutes, or maybe they were hours; she held him and didn’t want to let go, dared not, lest the spell be broken. People were everywhere, and a sense of decorum crept upon her.
She felt flushed and her breasts ached as they pressed against him. His leg brushed against her thigh and the heat of wanting enveloped her.
The crowd of well-wishers grew. Her family and friends were there; Heatherlyn, the Twins, Ivar, Bertrand and Father Dunkin. She felt the warmth of hope and happiness wash over them all.
He looked deep into her eyes and she saw what they said, 'forever.'
They stood apart. They were still smiling into one another’s eyes and they turned and smiled to one and all present.
The twins scooted off to help their mother and Enarrah began to lead Luke through the crowded barbicon and into the bailey. Guardsmen, castle-boys, liverymen and maids filled the busy work area. All were giving a collective sigh of relief and thankfulness with hand clasps and slaps to his shoulders, welcoming ‘their’ knight... home.
An exaggerated loud “Ahem!!” sounded over those assembled and a hush fell over the crowd as a voice intoned: “Wynnewood the Brave, I see your timing is still impeccable and your multitude of abilities still find their way to the place most needed!”
The Black and White Knight froze stock still, every eye upon him. He turned and there coming through the crowd was a sight for him to behold.
“William! William Northerlund! Is it really you?”
They strode towards one another, Enarrah still holding Luke’s arm as he went; whisking her along the floor.
“Aye, that it is lad, and none other.”
At this they clasped arms and shook each other as a cheer went up across the bailey. Luke attempted to go down on bended knee but before he could complete the gesture of honor to his friend and mentor, William raised him up.
“Here now lad, your action is most heartwarming but come, walk by my side as an equal should. If that is, the Lady Enarrah will unhand ye long enough to let us share some few moments of conversation. Well, what do you say lassie?”
Blushing, she said, “Yes, Sir William of course,” as she let loose of Luke’s strong arm.
As she released her hold and the physical connection between them broke; Luke wished it back. They looked into each other’s eyes and she knew it for what it was, longing, kindness, affection, caring, passion... love?
The welcoming castle crowd dispersed to attend the chores of the day amid nods of satisfaction and mummers of contentment. Their knight was home and their Lady adored him.
+++++
Off behind a corner of the buttery at the far end of the bailey one man did not cheer. He skulked in the shadows. He watched and he waited. He would be a rich man soon, a bag full-o-gold all his very own, and he wouldn’t be beholdin’ to any man ever again. All he had to do was lure the little miss healer off to do her workings – outside the castle walls.
+++++
Bertrand stood at the steps to the entrance of the great hall and said, “Sir William, a morning repast awaits in your solar.”
“Bertrand, my good friend, I had been under the weather for so long I almost forgot what a joy it is to have you attending to the everyday pleasantries of life. Let me introduce Sir Luke Wynnewood, Luke this is my good right arm, Bertrand Longwillow.”
Luke extended his hand; “Bertrand, any man who holds the high regard of the Lord of this castle also holds mine as well.”
“Thank you for the gracious words Sir Knight, the honor of this meeting is mine, we are all in your debt for the goodness and decency you have brought here. And now good Sirs I will get on with my duties.”
“Bertrand, a word,” Sir William said, “I would have you set your abilities to a task for the day. See that as many provisions as possible can be collected and stored within the castle walls for the days to come; and have Ivar come up to break fast with us.”
“I will see to it straightaway Sir William and report to you at the end of the day regarding the provisions. Good day gentlemen;” and with a slight bow he was gone.
“Let us go,” William said, “good food awaits!”
“William, your Bertrand seems a fine man,” Luke said as they walked, “It always was a particular solace to me that you surrounded yourself with good men. I should have suspected that you were here when I found out that the guard's eating room was next to the kitchen, just as it was in your castle in Jerusalem.”
“In truth, it was my Lady Violet who found Bertrand. God rest her soul.”
Luke stopped in his tracks, ‘Oh Sir William, my friend, from my heart, deepest sympathies for your loss. I remember well the longing and love in your voice when you talked of her and of home.”
“Thank you lad. When I returned here after Crusade and found Violet had passed on, a sickness of heart came over me that lasted nearly a year. I was wasting away in mind and body and left the tasks of running this castle up to my sons. The greatest burden being upon Philburt to act in my stead.
“That explains a great many things.”
“I returned to my senses just a day and a half ago; when I found out from Enarrah that it was you had saved her from certain death. It is you, young Wynnewood, that I have to thank for my new lease on life.”
The words struck Luke to the core, William was more a father and mentor than any man he had ever known.
“I came to these isles to find you, and so I have William. Enarrah is a remarkable woman. It was providence that put me at this place and time to come to her aid. Her attackers were ruthless, it was my sole purpose to prevent needless suffering.”
“As ever it is your role in this life to do Wynnewood, that has been your destiny.”
+++++
Philburt and Thomas had risen later than usual, they had been up most of the night, Philburt trying to come to grips with Sir Luke’s impending return. He did not know how he could face the man after the rudeness he had heaped upon the good knight.
For the first time in his life he had talked to Thomas as brother-to-brother, bearing his worry and dread about what he must do.
Thomas had never been anyone's confidante and so he listened with care and deliberation to his oldest brother. He tried to be supportive, saying father had told them that he needed them to help with the impending crisis from Kraigsleigh Castle.
Philburt had said that that was all well and good, but after the problems had been resolved he would still have to atone for his wrongful behavior.
When the brothers had heard the cheers of the castle-folk coming from the bailey, they both knew that Sir Luke was back. They dressed and prepared for whatever the day would bring. As they left their chamber and headed for the great hall, there, just outside the solar, were Sir Luke and their father.
Philburt knew what had to be done, he would face it, the sooner for it to be done with. He would take the punishment for his posturing and rudeness to Sir Luke no matter what form it took. Maybe he could return to Strathenham after a year of penitence...
Thomas’ heart went out to his big brother, as he saw the forlorn look on Philburt’s face. They approached the two great men, and Thomas said, “Resolve big brother, resolve. Have faith, all will be well.”
Sir William saw his sons approach and said, “Ah, here is Philburt and Thomas, just in time for break of fast.”
“Sir Wynnewood,” Philburt said without preamble, “I would a word with you, with father’s permission.”
William Northerlund had never seen his son look this intent b
efore, “Go ahead Philburt, say your peace.”
With bowed head on bended knee the oldest son of Strathenham, just two days past its' Acting Lord, took a deep breath and spoke, “Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco, I would seek your forgiveness for the grievous way in which I have treated you and ask you to accept whatever punishment father deems appropriate for my wrongful actions.”
For the first time in his life, Luke Wynnewood found himself without words. He looked at William with beseeching eyes.
“Luke! My friend! I have no knowledge of this. The lad has done this of his own volition and at the direction of his own heart.”
Luke looked back at Philburt, the man’s head was still bowed down, supplicant, and the look of remorse that covered him was as a funeral shroud.
Moments were suspended in time, and with warmth and sincerity Luke said, “I believe that I will do no such thing Philburt Northerlund.”
Luke was about to continue, but Philburt, hearing only the words said, “Then I have no recourse but to be a disgrace to myself and my family and I shall leave this place when the current crisis has passed.”
Hearing the terrible regret and pain that Philburt felt, Luke extended a hand to the man’s shoulder.
At this Philburt lifted his head and looked into Wynnewood the Brave’s dark azure eyes, the sight froze him in place. He saw warmth, peace and love there, deep bottomless pools of it.
Luke spoke with the same warmth and sincerity, “Philburt, I will not forgive that for which no forgiveness is required or needed. In just these last few minutes with your father I have learned that his illness forced you and your brothers to bear all the burden for the safety and welfare of the castle and these lands. A position to which you were ill suited only by lack of years and experience. Yet you and your brothers did so willingly and to the best of your ability. Lesser men would have shunned these responsibilities, you did not.”
“With my arrival you were faced with an unknown quantity and circumstances for which you had no prior preparation. But even at that, with specific regard to myself, a stranger in your midst who had created mayhem and unanswered questions, you erred on the side of caution. There is nothing to forgive.”
“So rise up, take my hand Philburt the Watchful, and you as well young Thomas, so that I may call you family and brothers and friends, for as it is with your father, so it also is with you.”
Hearing the words wash over him like a warm summer rain, Philburt stood in absolution. He grasped the hand still on his shoulder and held it tightly. Thomas grasped Luke’s other hand, now outstretched and looked on in amazement as his brother’s eyes filled with tears.
Philburt’s voice grew in strength and he said, “Father told me of you, of your courage, your sense of justice and your Godliness. I listened and I believed, for he is my father and I love him. But, not until this very moment did I realize what he has known for so long, that by all that’s holy, you truly are a man of greatness. Yes! YES! Let it be family and brothers, I pray you.”
Lord Sir William threw one arm around the shoulders of his sons and one across Luke’s and proclaimed,“Good, then it is done, you are well met and well made... brothers and friends it is. Now let us go in and eat. And you, Wynnewood the Compassionate, my dear friend, I believe that there is not anyone of decency or worth that has met you and is not the better for it, in heart, in mind and in spirit.”
“Pity that Randolph is not here as well, but he and your friend, Knight Robert are on a mission to the king's legate. ”
Luke looked with question at Sir William.
“Not to worry lad, Sir Robert with reluctance gave over the task of protection of your pages to me on my request so he might insure Randolph's safe passage. A few more days should see them back safe and sound.”
They walked the last few steps to the entryway into Sir William’s solar. As they reached the oak door it was opened wide and there stood Father Dunkin. With a flourish of his hand and a slight bow he beckoned the men forward saying, “Enter and be seated good Sirs, your victuals await, I will say grace and then be on to my duties for the day. Ah, and I see we have Captain Ivar with us as well, all and good, all and good.”
Sir William spoke up, “Father Dunkin, may I present Sir Luke Wynnewood.”
Extending his hand, the Father replied, “That you may, that you may. An honor Sir Wynnewood, and may the good Lord bless you for the deeds you have done.”
Luke took the offered hand and was surprised at the strong grip of the slight built priest. It was evident that he was no stranger to hard work. “Good to meet you Father, thank you for your blessing, if it is convenient I would visit the chapel oratory later today.”
The men seated themselves at table and the priest replied, “I like all of that; bravery, goodness and manners as well. You Sir Luke may visit my chapel day or night and if needs be, any of my humble time that you might require is yours.
Now, gentlemen one and all, let us bow our heads in prayer.
Great and Merciful Lord in Heaven, give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, may the light of Your wisdom and justice guide us through the trying times ahead and bless all those who act in Your Name... in nominee Patri et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.”
“Amen,” came the five man response.
A chunk of bread and small goblet were sitting in front of the priest, he ate the bread, drank the wine and with a flourish of brown robes turned away saying as he departed, “A prosperous day to you fine Sirs, I must be to my work.” And he was out the door and gone.
Without further ado, the men all set to enjoying the breakfast feast. There were meat pies, bread, cheese, ducks’ eggs, roast goose and custard pasties, with plenty of wine and ale to go around.
“This meal was worth coming back for Sir William, this is as fine a fair as set at the King’s own table,” Luke said.
“Better, to my way of it. We will however, not let him know that. For if he did, be sure that before you could turn around and say ‘farthing gale’, his honor would be stealing away Seneschal Bertrand, whose diligence provides this fine food and, Stewardess Heatherlyn as well, for her mastery of the preparation.”
Laughter erupted around the table.
“Your good Father Dunkin seems quite efficient.”
“Single-minded more the like. He is of the absolute belief that every man, woman and child carries the goodness of the Lord within; and he is ever incessant about bringing it forth, by whatever earthly means he finds necessary.”
Ivar added, “You gave him quite a start, night before last, when you commanded his attendance after dispatching Neeley the traitor. He told me he felt as if the voice of Saint Michael himself commanded him. He prayed over that wretch all night, prepared the body for burial with his own hands, and put him to ground the next morning.”
“I applaud the seriousness he gives to life and humanity,” said Luke; “I have been fortunate to meet such men of The Cloth. I have known and learned from others of Father Dunkin’s like, be they Christian, Muslim, Hebrew, Sufi or Templar. There are decent and caring men everywhere. Us and them like us will be ever ready and steadfast to defend the good. All the laws of decency transcend every barrier between humanity’s races, and must be cherished if war is to end and peace is to reign in our world. ”
Edinburgh
Since the meeting on the road with Lady Annabella and her escort of knights, a feeling of urgency had been building within Robert Verregon. They had pushed hard through the night and now, as they approached the city of Edinburgh, the foreboding of some fearsome dread had come over him. He couldn’t shake the feelings off and the only thought that assuaged them was that he must return to Strathenham with all speed. But, he could see no real solution to accomplish this and still keep his prom
ise to Sir William to insure Randolph’s safe return.
As they passed through the city streets en route to the Viceroy’s stronghold, the city-folk came and went on their everyday tasks with little heed to the group of armed men riding through their midst. Other than the occasional stare or guarded conversation they went their way unnoticed.
It was the multitude of children everywhere that brought Robert up short. Those with parents were clean and clothed, but orphans and castaways with dirty faces and ragged clothes far outnumbered the fortunate ones. He thought of the twins and how much he cared for them, and for Heatherlyn. The threat and mortal danger from Alexander at Kraigsleigh was real and the foreboding of dread he felt increased.
He was shaken from his thoughts as they arrived at the gate of the massive curtain wall of the keep. Randolph was stating his name and position, requesting entrance from the guards to see the Legate. The recalcitrant men were attempting to put him off, stating that no one saw the Viceroy without prior notice.
With his nerves frayed Robert’s patience ran out. He urged his steed forward, glared at the guards and growled, “What is the name of your post?”
One of the men returned a snide reply, “The Widow’s Gate, who wants to know?”
In a booming voice Robert shouted at the top of his lungs, “Captain of the Guard to the Widow’s Gate by Order of a Knight of the Holy See!”
In less than two minutes a burly bearded hulk of a man smart dressed in regalia trimmed with furs and wearing a Longsword at his side arrived at the gate with four pike carrying guardsmen in tow. His graying hair bespoke long years of public service.
“Captain, I am Sir Robert Verregon of Rangeley and this is Randolph Northerlund of Strathenham, you will direct us to the presence of the Legate on urgent business, or the King will know the reason why you do not!”
The two men had looked into each others eyes and Robert saw that the old soldier had taken his measure. Without ceremony the Captain of the Guard pushed aside the gate guards and ordered the gate opened.
He turned back to Robert,“Your guards must stay here as well as your horses, dismount Sir Knight, you and young Northerlund follow me.”
With the Captain leading in front and the four pike men following behind they were led past the gate through doorways and corridors to what should be the Legate’s chambers. They turned a final corner and there in front of a large iron reinforced oaken door stood a tallish slender man in a light brown floor length cloak unadorned except for the silver clasp at his throat representing his officialdom.
He looked with reproach upon the two dusty and road weary men and addressed the Captain. “Why are these men brought here? No one sees the Legate without prior authority, from me alone.”
“They invoked the name of the King, Lord Searlan.”
His words dripping with contempt the cloaked figure stated “Did they indeed. We shall see, we shall see. What is your business here?”
Randolph spoke up with authority, “My name is Randolph Northerlund, this is Sir Robert Verregon, a knight in service to my father, Lord Sir William Northerlund. I bring urgent documents from my father to the Lord High Legate.”
Lord Searlan said with sarcasm, “Do you now,” and he made a quarter turn as if to address the Guard Captain, when suddenly his hand darted up and grabbed the strap of the leather missive bag hung from Randolph’s shoulder, “Then I will take them!”
To Randolph’s credit he held the bag hard to his side and attempted to back away. Searlan then began yanking hard on the strap, pulling Randolph off balance. It was at that instant, in a blur of motion, that the devil’s tongue dagger Robert had by his side swept from its’ sheath to hover a hare’s breath from the petty official’s extended forearm. The look of arrogant defiance was plain in the man’s eyes as Robert heard the sound of the Captain’s Longsword leaving it’s scabbard.
Robert didn’t blink. Never taking his eyes off those of the lackey whose hands still clutched the leather strap, Robert said in a hushed breath of frozen determination, “Look down.”
His voice full of malice, Searlan replied, “So that you may take advantage of me, I think not.”
Robert Verregon had met men like this weasel before, subordinates who used what little authority they had to cajole and terrorize any and all who came under their control. Through clinched teeth he said, “Look down fool! If you want to live!”
The man still looked defiant and opened his mouth to speak, but Robert cut him off, “One scratch from my poisoned blade and you die an agonizing and horrible death, unless of course you have the good Captain here chop off your arm above the elbow and then thrust the ragged stump into that lit brazier over yonder to keep you from bleeding to death; now leave go of the strap!”
The man’s eyes turned downward and on seeing the long black snake-shaped blade so close to his arm, the color drained from his face. He blanched even further as Robert leaned forward and shouted, “Leave Off! Now!”
Searlan’s voice became small and squeaky, “Please, I...”
“NOW”!! Robert boomed.
Gathering his shattered wits about him the man unclenched his hands with care from Randolph’s leather strap and eased his arm away from the wicked black dagger. He backed up two quick steps with his back to the huge oak door and growled like the cur he was, “Captain, arrest these men!”
Just as the Captain was about to speak the massive door swung open slamming into Searlan from behind and propelling him at Sir Robert. Without a pause Robert flipped the dagger into an overhand grip and hammered his other fist into Searlan’s chest, stopping his momentum. The tip of the poisoned dagger was less than an inch from Searlan’s hooked nose. His eyes crossed as he stared at the blade, and then he fainted dead away.
The pillar of a man who came through the door, with long silver hair and full beard, dressed in full tartan carrying a Claymore Sword looked down at the brown covered heap on the floor and blandly said, “Ah, Searlan, up to your tricks again, eh? Wondered what all the noise was about. Met a man who didn’t take kindly to you’re posturing I see. I’ve a good mind to let you lie there.”
“Didn’t run ‘im through with that pig sticker did ye Verregon? No, I see ye did not, no blood on it... just as well I suppose.,” and he winked at Robert.
As he sheathed his blade Robert looked at the regal man with surprise.
“Yes, Sir Robert, I’d know those colors of yours anywhere, and who’s this then? Ah, young Randolph is it, and all grown up. Well, come in lads, come in.”
With that the huge man turned on his heel and strode back into his chamber calling over his shoulder in thick brogue as he went, “ Well Sir Lars, ye’ thick headed Viking, get the dolt up off my floor before he soils himself and shut the door would ye’. I have business to conduct.”
Inside the stone vaulted chamber the Legate Chief of Dunkeld said, “My apologies to you both. Lord Searlan is somewhat of an anomaly here. His family is promised certain considerations for their past service to The Crown. Alas, I cannot in good conscience relieve him of his position here as no replacement so openly readable is to be found. However, I am not bound to defend the man for his own arrogance either!
As the adrenaline subsided in Robert’s veins he inquired, “Have we met before, Lord Carr?”
“No, we have not, but I feel as if I know you from the stories that my sons have told since their return from Crusade. Thanks be to the good Lord and you, that I have them back. I’ll be shakin’ your hand for that laddie buck!”
After exchanging hand clasps, Robert stood thinking on this and Lord Carr seeing his questioning look continued, “Names oft time get lost in the heat of battle, but ye can’t mistake the sight o’ the three of ‘um. Alton the oldest is medium height and rotund, Paul the middle one is short and thin and Lawrence the youngest is something of a man-mountain ye might say, kind o’ like me.”
Recognition dawned on Robert, “I remember those men, boys then, stil
l in their teen years, they always fought together, a triple threat, but as if of a single mind. They fought very well that way, because they each knew each others every action and movement.”
“That’s them all over, it is. Still thick as thieves, the three o’ them. I’ll wager I’ve heard the story about how you saved their bacon at the Battle of Acre a dozen times. Turned into real jesters these days, they have. Bandying about the notion, behind the old man’s back of course, that if ever the time comes for the passin’ of my lands down to them, that all three of them will act in concert as the lord. Ha, and I wouldn’t put it past ‘em either. Make a fine sticky mess for the Royals it would, or my name isn’t Viceroy Sir Leonard Carr!
By Odin’s beard, here I am rattlin’ on and don’t the two of you look worn and weary. Take seats gentlemen, take seats, Herbert! Bring mead!”
It seemed before he had even finished calling out, a short stout man appeared with a tray. It was burdened with flagons.
“Take up lads, take up; to Saint David, long may he reign.”
They drank to the king, the icy cold mead was sweet and delicious, it slacked their thirst.
“Young Randolph, tell me, how fares your father?”
“Very well Sir Carr, he is recovered from his illness and is quite himself again.”
“Outstanding! Best news I’ve had in weeks! Now, what can the Legate of Dunkeld do for Castle Strathenham?”
Randolph took the leather bag from his shoulder, pulled the precious documents out and handed them over to the viceroy saying, “These are from father, all will be explained.”
Sir Carr sat down in his great chair behind a massive desk and broke the seals on the parchments. Herbert had reappeared and refilled their flagons. The men from Strathenham sat drinking as the Viceroy read the letters.
Robert’s emotions had boiled over from anger to impatience and now the weight of dark foreboding had returned heavy on his heart.
After a few minutes the Viceroy looked up, “This is a matter of no small importance. Even under the best of circumstances the necessary letters will take some time to sort out. A special dispensation of marriage involving such large tracts of land must be dealt with delicately. What other men are with you?”
“Six guards, Sir Carr; waiting outside your Widow’s Gate,” Randolph said.
“Herbert of Stensill,” the voice boomed again, “Please see to the comfort of the six men of Northerlund who are at the Widow’s Gate.”
While the Viceroy continued reading and making notes on other parchments, Randolph sat talking to himself, (he thought). “Marriage, what marriage?”
The Viceroy looked up, “Ah, the good Sir William didn’t find it it his purview to tell you lads. Well, the cat will soon be out of the bag. The marriage in question is that of one Lady Enarrah Henry, daughter of Elleghane, to Sir Luke Wynnewood no less. By Saint Andra I know that name well enough.”
Robert saw his opportunity. He put a hand to Randolph’s shoulder and spoke, “Chief Sir Carr, Sir William entrusted me with the safety of Randolph. I know that here under your roof he is safe and well enough. I know not the arrangement of your forces here but I would ask a boon of you.”
“Ask away Knight of Rangeley, and if it is my power to grant, I will.”
Randolph heard the tone of anxiety in Robert’s words, looked at him with genuine concern and asked, “Sir Robert, what is wrong?”
“I must return straightaway to Strathenham. I know not why these feelings of dread I have weight so hard upon me, I only know that I must return with all speed. However, my duty is for your safe return Randolph. I would ask that if it were possible, Sir Carr would send three knights with you and our guards on your return so that I may leave now.”
Before Randolph could answer Sir Carr spoke up, “Three stalwart knights to provide the same protection as one Robert Verregon, I think not. Six a more likely number. And Robert, we will not look upon this as a boon granted, but think of it more as a small favor bestowed by a grateful father.”
“Herbert!”
The man appeared as if from nowhere.
“Herbert, take Sir Robert hence, see him provisioned for a long hard ride with two of my fastest horses.”
For such a man of small statue, Herbert’s deep baritone voice resounded throughout the chamber, “As you command Chief Sir, so it shall be done!”
Sir Carr stepped from around his desk and attempted to lighten the gravity of the moment as he clasped Robert by the arm with earnest, and said with a wry smile, “I would lay eyes on you again Robert Verregon, and hale and hearty as well. See to it that my horses are returned in fine fettle and none the worst for wear.”
“It will be as you say Lord Carr, and my best to your sons.”
At this Robert turned to Randolph, grasped his shoulders and bade him farewell, “Be ever on your guard my friend, keep well, and I will see you soon.”
Randolph could not help but feel a weight upon his heart as well, one that he had never known before. This man was his friend, his best friend, and he would miss him. As Robert crossed the room to leave, close on the heels of the ever vigilant Herbert, Randolph said, “God be with you Robert the Good.”
Robert stopped just as he had reached the door and turned saying, “ Those are the exact same words I spoke to the Black and White Knight when last we parted. Thank you young lord.” And he was gone.
After a few moments the Sir Carr spoke, “Not to worry lad, not to worry, all will be well. This Black and White Knight of whom Verregon spoke might be he of great renown, Luke Wynnewood, as if I needed to ask?”
“It is Sir Luke, he fights for us at the castle,” Randolph answered.
“The same man Sir William wishes the Lady Enarrah to marry?”
“One and the same, he has other names as well, to his closest friends he is ‘The Ghost’. He saved Enarrah and slew the six men attempting to rape her and her maids. He then killed a spy within the castle who was being paid by Lord Alexander. All of this he accomplished within two hours of his arrival.”
“Fascinating, your father makes specific reference to this Alexander at Kraigsleigh in his missive. It is a name I do not know, but be rest assured I soon will. I have however heard mention of ‘The Ghost’, mainly from the rumors of so-called lords and ladies who gossip as do fish mongers. In truth I thought him a myth, conjured by the vicissitudes of war. Tell me of this man, have you met him? ”
“No, I have not formally met him. There is no one I have ever known to whom Wynnewood the Brave can be compared. He is the most right-acting man that I have ever seen. His motivations are pure of heart and he wears decency and goodness all about him as other men wear clothes and armor. Father calls him a living legend.”
Sir Carr sat in his chair, took a long drought of ale and said, “Would that the ties of office did not chain me to this desk Randolph; but each to his own duty, and this be mine. It would be my sorest wish to follow on the heels of Sir Robert. Knowing my sons, I expect they will do just that. There will be others wishing to make the trip as well, and that I believe is all to the good. This Alltimont seems to be reeking havoc up to the gates of the Royal Palace itself, and that we will not have.
As to you Master Randolph, you need food and rest. I will devote my full attention to your father’s request and speed your return to Strathenham as best I can. There should be no serious delay, your father and I have a long and tight, if somewhat checkered history. I well know that since he has made such a request as this, that it is in the best interests of the Crown. I’m sure the King will see it the same.”
“My sympathies at the passing of your dear mother, she is sorely missed. The news of it was hard felt at the house of Carr for she and my wife were true friends. I have no doubt my Lady Katherine will want some of your time before you leave.”
“Sir Leonard, thank you for your good words about mother, I will relay them to father when I return. It would be my honor to
attend your Lady prior to my departure.”
“Herbert,” he called, and the man was instantly there, “See to the comfort of our guest; then track down my boys if you please, and tell them they are requested to the presence of their father with all due haste.”
Family
Luke related the details of his trip to the village and about Alexander's two men who had been there asking about Enarrah. With everything else that had happened the conclusion was that Alexander sought to take Strathenham.
Philburt sat listening to his father, Luke and Ivar exchanging knowledge and making plans at the table, and although he heard every word, his mind was traveling a different path. It wasn’t everyday that a man gained a new brother and found his own absolution, and even praise, from the same man. He felt good, he felt as if he had a new lease on life just as his father did. All of this thanks to Luke Wynnewood.
His shame was replaced with peace of mind and a greater sense of self worth. He had a great deal to learn to become Lord of Strathenham, but his father was a good teacher and he would be an avid student. The thought of it made him grin. He turned to Thomas sitting next to him and said, “You were right little brother.”
Thomas had been caught up in thoughts of his own. He screwed up his eyebrows, smiled back and said, “About what?”
“About having resolve and, that all would be well.”
“It seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”
“Right, and true as well. It is an extraordinary beginning to an incredible day, is it not?”
“Indeed Philburt, indeed; and to think, it’s only mid-morning. Imagine what the rest of the day will bring.”
“I’ll drink to that Thomas, and to you and the family and the future.”
“May we all live to see our grandchildren,” Thomas added.
“Aye to that!”
Thomas set down his mug, his mind a whirl of feelings and emotions. He had always been the prankster and jester, more out of defense as the youngest of his brothers than anything else. That part of him was gone.
Last night, his big brother, the Acting Lord of the castle for months, had poured out his heart to him, Thomas, the baby of the family. His response had been to be supportive, empathetic and mindful to Philburt of the fairness of their father and the compassion of Sir Luke.
Now, this morn, not only had all things been set aright, he had a new brother as well; and him a living legend no less. Here he was sharing food and company with the four men he most admired in all the world. He felt the days of his youth fall behind him into the past. How incredible, here he sat, a man among men.
It was then that the brothers heard their father say, “Luke, you now have the story of my illness and recovery and understand our trials as Alexander has risen to power. Tell us how it was you came to be here with us.”
For some moments, Sir Luke Wynnewood stared into his cup of ale. When at last he spoke his face and voice mirrored an ocean of grief. In low and somber tones he began his story.
“Although I had not believed it so before this day, for I had no description for it, I too suffered a sickness of spirit for having to endure the loss of a loved one. It wasn’t so much that I lost faith as I lost part of myself, just as you did William. I had known the man that they called my Squire for only a few short weeks, our kinship seemed to exceed all boundaries, encompassing all places and all time. It was by fate that I met him, a short time after returning from Caliph Jafar’s palace.”
“I returned from that Islamic stronghold despondent and brokenhearted. I received with due gratitude the accolades of kingly praise for my 'fine use' of deportment and diplomacy with the Saracens; but, it was my friend who brought me back to my sense of life and living.
The excitement of my return to the city had abated in a few days, the war continued. I found I could not long endure the company of others.
The pleasantries and camaraderie of my fellow men gave no solace for bearing the loss of the woman dear to me. I practiced the arts of war alone and as was my want to do at that time, I would take my weapons and a skin of water, walk a good part of a league into the desert and spend hours there seeking solace.”
“One day as I walked to a place in the desert, far from others, I saw another man in the distance. As I approached, he himself was practicing his battle skills. Many of the traits and mannerisms I saw in him I recognized as like my own. Watching his fluid grace and natural style I was drawn to approach him.
That was our first meeting. His name was John. It seemed as if we had known each other all our lives. Prior to this I had received entreaties from men to become my Squire. They wanted to learn from me how to emulate what they called ‘my style’ of fighting. The trouble is, there is no way to teach a warrior to fight as I do because it is not something I learned and therefore can not pass on. It is a part of me I was born with, so I am as I am in combat because I can be no other way. It also became clear that some who asked for Squireship did so to gain the notoriety of association with me. I would have none of it.”
“From that first meeting we became fast friends, his combat ability was superb. We spared together daily, he was an avid warrior and took to the actions of defense and battle with precision and alacrity. His combat ability like my own seemed a part of his inner self, not something learned.
We said maybe a dozen words a day to each other, there was no need for more; a sound, a smile or gesture spoke volumes between us. It was a needful time, a healing time. I felt closer akin to him than I had to anyone in my life. Closer even than my own brothers by blood and because of our companionship others assumed I had taken him as Squire. The assumption was easy enough to make and there seemed no need to either confirm or deny it.”
“On the day of the great battle the fighting was intense and we stayed at each others’ backs. We fought well together. In the midst of a terrible melee I heard his gasp of pain, I turned to see that he had taken an arrow through the neck and into his spine. I caught him as he fell and by the time I had lowered him to the ground he was dead in my arms.
I never knew where he was from or even his surname. A blind raging fury took over my mind and body, and I do not know by what manner or when I left the battlefield. The next thing I do remember after his death was lying in an oasis pool staring into the cold night sky. I could not move and if Shahjeen had not nudged me out of the water I would surely have drowned.”
“The Sufi found me, more dead than alive, took me to their encampment and nurtured me back to health. They are a fierce nomadic Muslim people who adhere to the strict old ways. That is, they treat all men with decency and courtesy and expect the same in return, measure for measure. It made no matter to them that I am a Christian, only that I am a good man. I was in and out of consciousness for days. They treated me and Shahjeen as their own, nursed us back to health and we regained our strength and sanity.”
“It was not even a month ago when I completed my journey back from the holy land unadorned and traveling as a returning pilgrim. When I left the east to return, I made up my mind to come to this land, because it was this country and these people that you spoke so well of William.
In Edinburgh, good and faithful knights that I had known on Crusade recognized me and brought me to the Court of the King. He bid me return to the duties of a knight and to stay at his castle, which I did. It was comfortable and peaceful for a time, but it did not last.
King David saw a restlessness in me and he bade that go on quest. In return I would receive a modest place and lands so that I might call these isles my home. I was on this quest when I came upon the six men attacking Lady Enarrah and her maids.”
“I must be away from here as soon as possible. It is not the promise of lands that gives me haste. It is that there are forces at work to depose the king. He believes the completion of my quest will help defeat his foes and so do I. This is a good and just man, he rules with decency and gra
ce and I would do all that can be done to preserve his reign. It is ironic, I accepted the quest in part to escape the intrigue at court only to be caught up, pell mell, in the intrigues of The Borders.”
A silence had fallen over the room as Luke spoke. They saw before them not the prodigal son, or the brother or the comrade. They saw the man, who had struggled through adversity and grief to find a place in the world.
Sir William was the first to speak, “You have saved me once again, this time from myself, and we all would have succumbed to Alexander’s devious plans had you not arrived when you did. My dear friend, your travels have been long, fraught with pain and despair, but you are at Elleghane now, and you are needed more than you know. I have the reason Alexander Alltimont is on this path he follows.”
“As ever, Sir William, I am where I should be, but this threat must be dealt with straightaway. Alltimont has designs for this castle and it seems would stop at nothing to achieve them. Plans must be made to avoid a terrible ending here. I will do anything for you and Elleghane that is in my power to accomplish.”
“His design, Luke Wynnewood, is to force Enarrah into marriage and seize all of Elleghane which is her birthright. To thwart his scheme you must marry Enarrah yourself, and the announcement must be quick and widespread right after the two of you take your vows.
That should take the wind out of Alltimont's sails long enough to get reinforcements. I have sent Randolph with your friend Sir Robert Verregon this very day with papers to secure a special dispensation of marriage from the Chief Legate of King David.”
While William spoke Luke looked from Philbert to Thomas, and as William finished he said, “I will”.
He smiled to himself. 'Anam Cara'.
Epilogue