Page 3 of Knight of Darkness
She checked her attire for what must have seemed like the hundredth time but all was in order. Her chainmail helm hid her length of long blonde hair whilst her tabard concealed any hint of her bosom, not that she had much to boast of. The hood of her cloak was pulled down low masking the majority of her face. Her one feature she could not hide were the color of her eyes, for they were a vivid shade of aquamarine that many a suitor had remarked upon in her past. If she were to encounter any of those men, there was a very real risk that they would recognize her. Luckily, the hood of her cloak, or the helm she wore upon the battlefield, concealed her face and gender.
Her thoughts wandered to home. Inwardly she sighed wondering upon the fate of her father and their estate whilst she had been gone. Mentally she counted the months she had hidden within the Empress’s army of men and came to the realization she had been gone far longer than intended. Had it really been half a year since she last crossed the gates of Norwich? Even now, was her father so worried that he sent out scouts to find her and bring her home?
His insistence that she continue her duties at Norwich was proof he had come to rely on her much as if she had been the son he never had. As an only child, her father kept her close despite the obvious fact she should have wed long ago. Most men would not care to take a wife who was aged a score and three, but her father had constantly put off finding a husband for her, saying there was more she needed to learn first.
He had taught her the inner workings of the estate, ensured she understood the importance of keeping accurate accounts of the monies spent or coming in to support their home. They often rode the land to oversee the serfs or inspect the fields so she learned what to look for in the fields for when crops should be rotated if the land needed to rest. Over time, he had passed many of his duties over to her, trusting to see them well handled. But when it came to making choices for herself about what her future should hold…that was where his trust ended.
She inwardly sighed remembering her last night at Norwich. His arguments had continued into the late evening hours, mainly due to the fact she was indeed a woman who had no place fighting amongst seasoned warriors.
But Ceridwen had fought back stating he had been the one to first thrust a sword into her hands at the tender age of ten summers. At the time, such a deed had but amused him until he had seen for himself she was skilled with the blade. Since that day, Ceridwen had never been far from the lists and her sire should not have been surprised when she had thrown caution to the wind and joined in the fight to help Empress Matilda ascend to the throne.
A bolt of lightning slashing across the evening sky lit the common room with a burst of brightness as though ’twas daytime and brought her out of her musings. Yet the brilliance causing her to shield her eyes lasted but an instant before the inn was again plunged into dark gloom. She quickly glanced around, wondering if someone had mayhap seen what she had been hiding—that she was a woman in a man’s world. But no one came to her to call her out once she was again hidden in the darkness of the booth. The shadows of those within the tavern were again cast upon the walls from the candles and fire within the hearth causing Ceridwen to breathe another sigh of relief. She was still safe, for now.
With the next burst of lightning, the door was thrust open and a knight filled the space giving evidence to the man’s height. He held her attention as he shook off the rain that continued to plummet downwards from the sky.
Ceridwen watched his progress whilst he all but swaggered across the room. ’Twas not often a man gained… nay,earnedher appreciation, but this warrior seemed to have a commanding presence about him that few of her acquaintance possessed. He threw off his cloak, reminding her of a wet dog as he shook the rain from his shorter than average brown hair. She had the impression such a color was subject to the sun and once dry ’twould become lighter. Where such an assessment came from, she knew not, but this warrior continued to hold her interest when he began striding toward a table near her own where two men had just recently taken a seat. Since they had not given her a second glance, Ceridwen did not think she had to worry about them. They seemed more interested in food, drink, and the chance to get dry than anything else.
Murmurs as this stranger made his way through the room began to grow louder. Word that the Knight of Darkness was in their midst began to circulate amongst those in the tavern.A man with a reputation it seems, thought Ceridwen, though she was unsure how impressed she should be. Still, she continued to watch him as he stopped at the table to briefly converse with the two men seated there. Was he evil? Was that why the wordDarknesshad become associated with him? Or mayhap he was called this for another reason? Curiosity began to gnaw at her insides. She had lived a fairly sheltered life at Norwich and had not had a chance to learn very much about the notable knights who were fighting for the Empress’s cause. Clearly the men here knew of this man but ’twas obvious she would receive no answers as to why he was called such a name.
Although she could not hear the conversation going on at their table due to the noise in the tavern, ’twas clear he was heckling the other occupants already seated. He was a cocky one, for certain, and she stifled a laugh as she took another sip of her wine whilst she continued to watch his antics in amusement. He at last folded himself onto the bench with his back to the wall, much like Ceridwen herself was sitting. The man was wise for she also would never sit with her back to the room.
“My lord…”
His laughter rang out and she watched the pleasure that lit his striking face once he took a long hard pull of the drink filling his cup. Once he set his tankard down, his eyes scanned the room and Ceridwen held her breath when his gaze momentarily flitted in her direction. She could not be certain the true color of his eyes from this distance, but they must be some shade of blue. She stifled the sudden urge to get up and cross the room just so she could end the mystery. She chuckled to herself knowing she would appear the fool if she actually braved such an act. Still…
“My lord…”
… he was handsome in a rugged sort of way, she would give him that much, but he nevertheless presented a puzzle to her. Why did she feel this sudden interest in this total stranger? Tilting her head gained her no further answers and yet the black raven in a field of red on his tabard looked oddly out of place. She did not recognize the crest and she pondered if he mayhap pilfered the emblem and garment. He reminded her more of a wild lion than a simple bird of prey.
He smiled at the pretty maid who came to place their food upon the table and her stomach churned that she was not the one who had earned such a reward.God’s Bones, where had that thought come from? Was she going soft? What was the…
“Lady Ceridwen,” a voice hissed drawing her out of her musings and her attraction to a total stranger.
“Quiet, you fool,” Ceridwen warned, “else our relaxing evening will turn into a full brawl given the limited amount of female company that can be found here.”
Arthur Chamberlayn, the captain of her guardsmen, watched her carefully before his eyes followed hers across the room. “I tried to address you asmy lordmore than once, but you appear distracted, my lady,” he said with a furrowed brow.
“If I do not respond at first, you must simply try harder. There is no excuse for behaving so recklessly. Must I needs again remind you I am as any other ordinary knight here this eve?”
Arthur choked on his ale whilst he burst out into laughter. “I would hardly consider you ordinary, Ceridwen.”
Her brow rose, along with her anger. “Are you trying to start a fight? Cease addressing me by my given name or asmy lady! Will not the morn be soon enough to test your prowess with a blade with the next phase of the battle? I am to be addressed as Lord Elric and nothing else.”
Symond Godwin, another one of her guards, thumped his mug upon the table and called out for more ale. He waved a young woman forward, her hips swaying as she made her way across the room. “Let us be merry and forget for one eve what awaits us in the morn.”
Thomas Montecute, another of her guards, nodded in agreement. “Aye! Surely there are more pleasant ways to spend a night than worrying over what the morrow will bring.” He pulled the woman forward into his lap and a squeal of delight passed her lips when he nuzzled her neck.
“Hey, now Thomas, I saw her first,” Symond complained attempting to pull the woman from Thomas’s grip.
“Sod off,” Thomas returned with a smirk before giving the woman a quick kiss. “She liked me better the moment we walked in the door, you fool.”
Ceridwen rolled her eyes and saw how the attention of the room was beginning to focus upon them. “Enough,” she fumed, tossing them a glare in the hopes they would behave.
“’Tis just a bit of fun, my lord,” Symond replied.
Ceridwen wagged her finger at both men. “Neither of you will be sampling the fares of anything more than the ale in your cup and the meat on these platters. Best leave the maid to finish her duties, Thomas. You must needs seek your comfort another night. We must all get a good night’s rest so we will be ready for the battle on the morrow.”
As he let the woman go, she bent to whisper in his ear and Thomas let out another burst of laughter. He gave the woman a swat upon her bottom and she left with a smile of promise on her face. Symond grumbled into his cup apparently knowing a lost opportunity when he saw one.
