Page 1 of Knight of Darkness
Prologue
In a timeknown today as The Anarchy, England was torn between two enemies each claiming a right to the throne. Some of England’s nobles pledged their allegiance to Stephen and declared him king whilst others cast their fate with Empress Matilda, the daughter of Henry I. Such unrest placed most of the country into a state of civil war lasting for almost a score of years. Many knights bore the burden of fighting for one side or the other, each determined to win the land for whomever they served.
Amongst such knights were three brothers who had become hired hands in search of fame and fortune. They swore their loyalty to fight for the Empress Matilda and defend her rightful claim to England’s crown. The Norwood brothers were close in age. Wymar was the eldest and jumped at the chance to swear his oath of fealty to the Empress, especially after their parents were killed when Stephen laid siege to their home, Brockenhurst Castle. Ousted from the only home they had known six years ago, Wymar plunged his brothers into the middle of war all in the hopes of having the Empress crowned queen. He prayed, in return for his service, she would bestow upon him the return of his lands, his title, and name him her champion knight.
Theobald was next and the peacekeeper amongst them. He was used to following his eldest brother no matter that he would prefer to sit in front of a fire to rest his weary feet with a mug of ale in his hand. Reynard, the youngest, was always attempting to prove his worth even when the odds were stacked against him. He was more like his eldest brother than he would ever admit, even to himself.
All three swore to remain together as a family as they had no one else besides themselves and for now the land beneath their feet was home. Until they could reclaim their birthright and Brockenhurst was again in their control, the brothers had no plans to marry. They had no time to cater to some woman nor was having a wife as a camp follower an ideal situation. They had sworn their allegiance to the Empress Matilda and until she released them, they were committed to her cause to see her placed on the throne.
But sometimes the fate of man is fickle, especially when you only think of the pleasures to be obtained in life or the jingle of coins to line your coffers.
Every tale has a beginning, a middle and an end for the knights of the Anarchy. This is Wymar’s story…
Chapter One
February, Outside of Lincoln, England
The Year of Our Lord’s Grace 1141
Wymar Norwood’s warhorsetrudged through the muck beneath its hooves whilst thunder and lightning slashed across the early evening sky in an eerie display for any hour of the day. ’Twas almost like a premonition of things to come. He would never admit he was tired, especially to his brothers, but he was. Would the torrential downpour that continued to all but drown him never cease? The road, if that is what you would have called it, had become nothing more than a cesspool of…shite! How many men had already traveled this way before him he could not say. ’Twas as though God Himself was displeased with his choice to place his oath of fealty to Empress Matilda. Yet he could do no less, for he swore the Empress was the rightful ruler and not the usurper who had been crowned king.
He spat the foul taste from his mouth. ’Twas as though just thinking of Stephen as King of England had been the cause of his current displeasure and misfortune to be traveling amongst such inclement weather. Yet he could not help but ponder if ’twould be worth it. His way of life and those he looked after would change for the better if he were the man to capture Stephen. Wymar could only imagine the satisfaction he might gain from capturing the man who had sent forces to his home—the man who was the reason his parents no longer lived. The siege on Brockenhurst had cost Wymar and his brothers everything and ’twas all because Stephen wanted to claim more land to rule under his false claim to the throne. For Wymar to have his title and lands restored to him was worth any cost he might pay for pledging his allegiance to the Empress. Surely she would reward him handsomely for capturing her enemy.
Another streak of lightning flashed across the darkness of the night. Wymar pulled at the hood of his cloak whilst memories assailed him. When they’d been forced to leave Brockenhurst behind, Wymar and his brothers had taken whatever they could carry of worth: their swords, a bit of food, a satchel filled with clothes, and more importantly their family standard—a black raven in a field of red. They sold their parents’ trinkets and other costly gems in order to live until they began hiring out the strength of their swords. Through the next five years, they journeyed from place to place and gained a reputation of being fierce in battle, earning enough monies to see to their needs.
Word had traveled swiftly throughout the countryside that King Stephen was laying siege to Lincoln Castle. Eager to join the fight for his queen, and to make the most of a prime opportunity to capture the usurper, Wymar had all but yanked his brothers from their beds that morn to begin their travels from the inn they had been staying at near London. The storm they had encountered at the beginning of their journey caused their progress to Lincoln to be tediously slow and overcome with one obstacle after another. At least they were almost to their destination. With his two brothers by his side, Wymar had no doubt they would be on the winning side of the battle once they joined the fray.
Finally arriving on the outskirts of Lincoln, the lights of a distant inn flickered in the dusk of night. ’Twas like a beacon calling him to enter its warmth for a mug or two of ale after hours in the saddle. Rain dripped from his hair and clouded his vision leaving him no doubt as to his decision for a brief respite from the weather. But between the rain and those who had arrived before them, they would be hard pressed to find a place to pitch their tents for the upcoming battle.
He pulled on the reins of his horse causing Aries to whinny. “Theobald! Reynard!” he bellowed above the sound of the storm. Wymar pointed to the inn before covering his face when clumps of mud were flung in his direction after his brothers took off in a full gallop. ’Twas as if they were only awaiting word they could seek their comfort for a few hours of the night. And once they received that word, they would apparently not take the chance that Wymar would change his mind.
“I highly doubt the inn will have any available rooms at this hour. Your brothers care only for their immediate desires and think not of what must needs still be accomplished before they rest their weary heads,” Richard Grancourt said, coming abreast of Wymar.
“Aye, but can you blame them?” Wymar replied with a toss of his head as rivulets of water streamed down his brown hair. Wiping the water from his eyes, he turned in his saddle to take in the condition of the rest of the half dozen men who followed him.
Wymar had known Richard for most of his life and did not question his loyalty. Wymar also recognized some of the men who continued to follow him after attending one tourney or another together. But he had far less familiarity with the others he had met on the open road. He only was aware that they, too, went to fight for the Empress. Their number continued to grow the closer to the battlefield they went. Wymar often wondered during their travels exactly how loyal, in truth, they were. Most mercenaries of his acquaintance would change sides faster than Theobald could down a mug of mead if this meant more coins for their purse or a bit of land to call home.
Mayhap one day he would learn for himself if they could be trusted. Until then, he would continue to be on his guard. He did not relish the idea of seeing one of them coming at him with blade in hand in an attempt to gain authority of their group… not that Wymar ever claimed to be their leader. The men just assumed he was the one to look to for their orders. After years of battles, along with tournaments to earn more monies, they would not be the first to attempt to kill him. Wymar was certain they would not be the last and only time itself would prove their worth.
Some of the knights who followed him knew the strength of Wymar’s sword and had labeled him the Knight of Darkness after witnessing him fight on several occasions. He could not say he was particularly fond of the nickname, yet he would not complain if his reputation became elevated because of it. Mayhap even the Empress would learn that he would fight to the death for her cause.
“I shall see to finding a place to pitch our tents,” Richard stated, interrupting Wymar’s musings. “I assume you have no further need of me this night and your brothers will be capable of watching your back?”
Wymar nodded. “I shall be grateful, Richard, for your assistance in seeing to the camp. At this stage of the war, let us hope we can find a spot far enough away from the battlefield to ease our comfort when we are able.”
Richard adjusted the hood of his cloak. “’Twill be a miracle indeed and yet I am certain I will be able to find us space. I have not failed in finding us suitable ground to rest our head in the past.”
“Nay… that you have not,” Wymar answered knowing he could count on Richard. “I promise, just one drink and I will ensure we bring you victuals to see to filling the hole in your belly.”
Richard laughed. “If you manage to get your brothers out of the inn after only one drink, I shall take on the task of being your squire for as long as we continue our fight for justice.”
“I shall take that bet,” Wymar replied with a smirk. “Remind me again why I did not hire that lad back at the last village we stopped at?”
“Because I caught the little thief trying to lift my purse whilst I was perusing a lovely pair of breasts that had been exposed for my viewing pleasure! How could you forget?” grumbled Richard.
“Aye… how could I forget indeed? I would not be surprised to learn those two were in cahoots together.” Wymar chuckled again before leaning over and slapping Richard on the back. “I will not be long.”
With a flick of the leather reins, he set Aries back into motion until he came to the yard of the inn. A lad came to take his horse and Wymar tossed him a coin. “See that he’s taken care of. There is another in it for you if you give him some oats and a good rubdown.”
