Page 24 of Knight of Chaos
“’Tis not that I do not wish for this to continue but I am needed,” he began and at her quizzical look he continued, “to return to the fighting, my dear.”
“Oh… aye… of course, the battle. How silly of me to forget,” she said turning her back to him.
He came and turned her around. He placed his forehead against her own whilst her hands wrapped around his waist. “I will also not dishonor you by taking what has begun between us too far without the blessings of a priest. We have time to continue to get to know one another to ensure we might wish to wed,” he proclaimed, coming to the conclusion that she would take him for her husband when the time was right.
“Are you declaring your intentions, Sir Theobald?” she asked with what appeared like hope filling her eyes.
“When the time is right,” he repeated. Placing a soft kiss upon her lips as though sealing his vow, he turned to leave. “Reynard will be outside if you have need of anything.”
“Theobald,” she called out after he opened the flap of the tent.
He peered over his shoulder. “Aye?”
“Be safe,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile.
He nodded and left. His brief reprieve from the battle over, he would thrust himself back into the fighting as though to finish this once and for all—with the hopes of gaining lands and monies in return for his valor. Only then could he court the fair Ingrid as she so deserved.
Chapter Sixteen
Ingrid sneezed, rubbedher nose then her irritated eyes. She was unsure what had disturbed her slumber. Something was definitely wrong, but her mind was still hazy whilst wishing to return to dreaming the morn away. She turned over, placing her hand beneath her cheek. Smiling, she began recalling her visions and more importantly her kiss with Theobald. ’Twas everything she had wished for and more. She cared for the man, that much was clear. If his response was any sort of an indication of what he felt for her, she could be nearly certain that he favored her, too. She stretched, still relishing the memory, until she realized what had caused her to awake in the first place. Smoke!
She dressed quickly, a sense of urgency overwhelming her as to the danger that surely must be nearby. She was just putting her sword in her scabbard when Theobald rushed into the tent. His eyes scanned the dark interior before starting to light several candles. He began to collect his things.
“What is happening, Theo?” she asked in concern.
“You must needs grab what you can,” Theobald ordered whilst he continued rushing through their dwelling, tossing garments and whatever necessities that could fit into a satchel. He turned to her. “Do you need help?”
She shook her head finally coming out the daze that had held her in place. She was unsure what she needed to take with her that she did not already have on. She did not own many possessions. The speed with which Theobald was moving through the tent spurred her into motion. Her own satchel sat on the floor nearby and she grabbed it. “Will you tell me why we are in such a rush?”
He stopped mid-stride to stare upon her with a worried frown. “Can you not smell it?”
Clothes were rapidly stuffed into her bag with little thought of wrinkles. “Smoke but such is common during a siege.”
“Aye, well, in most situations this might be true. But there has been a development. The bishop fled when the Empress laid siege to Wolvesey. The garrison, apparently acting on his orders before he left, decided that throwing burning material from the walls would be a good distraction. The fools! They have set fire to Winchester. Already, a section of the city is in ruins. If this continues, there will not be much left.”
“Good heavens! Where are we going?”
“The Empress has requested I make my way to the royal castle. She wants me close by in the event she has need of me. You, my dear, are coming with me.”
“Is that allowed?” she asked. A frown marred her brow as she wondered if she would be welcome in the castle. She had not been schooled in the art of courtly manners nor had she learned to adhere to the dictates the ladies of an empress’s court must needs follow. She was a simple woman, with simple taste. She was quickly overwhelmed with thoughts of making a fool of herself.
“Allowed or not, your welfare matters to me. Hence, you must needs hurry. I am far from certain that this tent will survive the fire. We shall have to hope for the best that anything left behind shall survive.”
“But shall we be safe at the castle?” she asked.
“As safe as any other place. We must protect the Empress. If she decides she must flee the city, then we will guarantee she has a strong contingent of guards to ensure her safety.”
They worked in silence until they had packed what they could. She quickly grabbed the flowers Theobald had given her and shoved them into her satchel. If they survived, she would press them into a book. Theobald took a firm grip of her hand. Leaning down, he placed a quick kiss upon her lips before ushering her from the tent. She took one last look backwards until the flap at the opening fell into place. Reynard was outside, holding the reins of his horse along with Theobald’s and Ingrid’s. He was not alone. Nearby were Richard, Blake, Oswin, and Kingsley as they waited for Theobald and Ingrid to mount their steeds.
Theobald tossed his satchel to Reynard who began to attach it to Theobald’s saddle. Ingrid stood near her horse while Theobald took her bag and began doing the same. He then cupped his hands together. She placed her foot in his palms and when he lifted her up, she swung her leg over her steed. She tried not to flinch from the pain when she settled into her saddle. No need to worry Theobald. He handed her the leather reins and then placed his hand upon her leg.
“Ride hard. Stay close,” he ordered.
“I will,” she declared offering him a slight smile of encouragement.
Theobald gave her a nod, went to his own horse, and took up the reins. “Help me keep Ingrid safe,” he demanded of the men he rode with. He kicked his heels into Buttercup’s side, putting the horse into motion and taking the lead. The other knights quickly placed their mounts in a circle around Ingrid. ’Twas as if she was in a cocoon-like barrier, safe from the turmoil that she was about to encounter. Surrounded with knights who would die on her behalf, they swiftly rode through the burning city.
Everywhere Ingrid gazed, there was fire and ruined buildings while ash and smoke filled the air turning day into night. People formed lines whilst they passed buckets of water to put out the flames of one structure after another. Their faces were streaked with soot and sweat. Children cried out for their parents. Merchants attempted to save what they could from their marketplace stalls. All around her there was complete wreckage and chaos. Theobald was right… there would not be much left to save if the bishop’s men continued this rampage to burn the city to the ground.
