The Ballad of Sir Dinadan (2 page)

A tall man in light armor followed the lady from the tent and turned jaded eyes on Dinadan. "Are you sure, Lady Miriam?" he asked, with a slight cough. "This one seems rather young. Perhaps he is not yet ready to test himself for a lady's sake."

"Fie, Sir Annui!" Lady Miriam said. "He has a true knight's bearing! Can you not see it? I'll vow that people also doubted Sir Gawain when he was this man's age. Please, Sir Knight, will you join us for our luncheon? It is meager fare, due to my sad calamity, but what we have you may share." Dinadan hesitated, glancing uncertainly at the large man behind the lady. "Do not mind old Sir Annui. In sooth, I think he envies your youth and vigor. Come, sit beside me and eat."

It was hard to tell which of those promised delights was more enticing to Dinadan. In any case, he received both. Lady Miriam sat close beside him, making sure that his plate stayed full and listening wide-eyed to Dinadan's every word. It did not seem to Dinadan that the savory meat he was fed was "meager fare," but perhaps they were feeding him the last good food that they had. Sir Annui, the tall knight, sat with them at first, but after a few minutes, he stood abruptly and walked away. Lady Miriam leaned close to Dinadan's ear and giggled. "Poor Sir Annui," she said. "He's an old friend of my father's. I believe that he has some notion of marrying me, and I can never make him see that it's quite impossible. Do you not think that he's very old?"

Dinadan had not noticed this, but perhaps women had different ideas of what was too old. Lady Miriam, who looked to Dinadan to be about twenty-four or twenty-five, evidently preferred younger men, anyway. Dinadan casually stretched, then pushed his shoulders back to make them appear broader than they really were.

Lady Miriam continued. "And besides, it irks him that I've said I cannot marry until I am able to possess the land that is rightfully mine."

"What land is that?" Dinadan asked, taking another bite of roast boar.

Lady Miriam sighed and leaned her head on Dinadan's shoulder. "The land just over that hill belongs to me. It was given me by my grandfather, and just in time, too. My parents had died, leaving me penniless. I don't know what I would have been forced to do, if I had not been given the manor and the lands of Grace-moor Castle. But when I arrived to take possession, I found it occupied by a villainous knight, calling himself Sir Edmund."

"Didn't you explain that the castle was yours?" Dinadan asked.

Lady Miriam snuggled her head closer into Dinadan's shoulder. He could smell a faint perfume in her hair. "If only it were that easy," she said with a sigh. "Sir Edmund knows that he has stolen the land, but he thinks no one can stop him. He has a hundred knights, each stronger than the last. No one except Arthur himself could overcome such an army. I have no one but a few of my grandfather's servants, who are still loyal to me, and Sir Annui."

Dinadan sighed at the story of woe, but it was hard to pay attention to all Lady Miriam was saying. She was all but sitting on his lap now.

"There is one hope, though," Lady Miriam said, raising her head to look into Dinadan's eyes. "Sir Edmund is not so great a knight himself, and he is often alone. One lone knight could find him, challenge him to single combat, and slay him. Once Sir Edmund is dead, the others will go."

Dinadan imagined himself a conquering hero, earning the beautiful Lady Miriam's gratitude, but a nagging doubt intruded. "But ... if that's what it would take, why doesn't Sir Annui challenge him?"

"Poor old Annui," Lady Miriam said, shaking her head. "He was wounded in his last tournament, and he cannot fight."

"He seemed fine to me," Dinadan said in mild protest.

"Oh, he can walk well now," Lady Miriam said. "But he can't ride a horse. You see, the wound he received was in a most embarrassing place." She permitted herself a very small titter. "You won't tell him I told you, will you? He's very sensitive about it."

"No, no, of course not," Dinadan said, pleased to have a private joke with Lady Miriam.

"I don't know what we'll do, though," Lady Miriam said. "Just this morning we received word that Sir Edmund is mustering his knights for an attack on our camp." Lady Miriam put her arms around Dinadan and held him close. "I fear that he wishes to make me his own, and I'd rather die! Look, Dinadan!" Lady Miriam leaned away and pointed to her chest, where a jeweled dagger hung from a thin chain, almost hidden behind the low neckline of her gown. "If he should win, then I will plunge this dagger into my heart before giving in to such a tyrant!"

Dinadan tore his eyes away from the dagger and rose abruptly. "I will go see this Sir Edmund at once!" he declared.

Lady Miriam's eyes glistened with grateful tears. "I knew you would be the one," she said, laying one hand on his arm. "But be careful, my dear. I want you to come back to me whole. You must not take any chances. Give him no chance to speak, but attack him on sight. It is what he would do to you, after all."

Dinadan nodded, his throat tight, and he managed to stumble to his horses without actually falling down. It would have been grander if he had already been in armor and could have just leaped into the saddle and ridden off, but things don't always work out as you wish. Half an hour later, mounted and clad in the armor that had never really fit him as it was supposed to, Dinadan lifted one hand in what was supposed to be a casual, nonchalant, unworried gesture of parting, but his hand accidentally knocked his own horse's head, making the horse arch its back and forcing Dinadan to grab quickly for the reins to keep control. He tried to ride away with dignity, but he was fairly certain that he failed.

Out of sight (and smell) of the entrancing Lady Miriam, Dinadan's head cleared, and he was able to acknowledge that perhaps he had acted rashly. Lady Miriam had assured him that the evil Sir Edmund was not as a good a knight as the knights that were with him, but Dinadan had no doubt that Sir Edmund was still more competent than he was himself. It seemed likely that Dinadan's only chance of winning the battle to which he had pledged himself would be to take Lady Miriam's advice and attack on sight. It was hardly very knightly, however. If he were telling a courtly tale about a knight who had acted so, he would call that knight a rank coward.

He was still pondering his best course of action as he rode over the slight ridge of hills and came right up to two men chatting in the front yard of a small farm. One of the men was clearly the farmer, and the other was a gentleman, simply dressed but unquestionably of the aristocracy. The gentleman raised an open hand in greeting and smiled at the approaching Dinadan. "Hello, friend. Well met today!"

"Hello," Dinadan said, returning the greeting.

"Hast come far?"

"I've been riding since midnight," Dinadan admitted.

"Why, then you must come stay with me in my home. I should be glad of the company, and if you've a tale to tell, glad of that as well."

It was quite the nicest invitation Dinadan had ever received—to be greeted as an equal by a total stranger—but he replied, "I wish I could, friend. I'm looking for someone right now, though, a villain who has taken lands that are not his."

The man's brow furrowed. "Ay, I think I know who you mean. If you're looking for that crowd, then I'll surely do what I can to help you. Hang on a bit, let me finish here." Dinadan pulled up his horse and waited while the gentleman, evidently the farmer's landlord, discussed some farm business with his tenant. Then the man mounted his horse, a clean-limbed gray gelding, and rode up beside Dinadan. "We've had no trouble in this area since my grandfather's day, but it does look as if we're in for it a bit. These people came from nowhere with a motley band of mercenaries and settled in. The neighbors and I have been wondering what they were up to, and all we can figure is that they plan to take one of the local landholdings."

"I thought they had already taken one estate already," Dinadan said.

The gentleman glanced at him sharply. "Not that I've heard of," he said. "Did you hear the name of the estate?"

"Gracemoor," Dinadan said.

The man's face relaxed. "Nay, Gracemoor's still safe, as you'll see for yourself in a minute. That's my home."

Dinadan swallowed. "Are you—? What is your name?"

"I'm Sir Edmund Grace of Gracemoor." Dinadan stared, bemused, at the pleasant face beside him. "And there," Sir Edmund said, "is Gracemoor itself."

Dinadan followed his eyes and saw a neat stone manor—too large to call a house and not large enough to call a castle—at the edge of a quiet river. "Your home?" Dinadan asked weakly.

"And my father's and his father's before him, given to my grandfather by old King Constantine himself, Arthur's grandfather."

Dinadan's mind buzzed with confusion. They rode into the open gates of the manor, gave their horses to an elderly groom, then walked into the entrance hall. Over a huge fireplace was a painting of a gray-haired man with a glowering frown. "That's my grandfather there," Sir Edmund said. "Old Doom and Gloom, I used to call him when I was young." Sir Edmund walked through an open door into a comfortable parlor, and Dinadan took another look at the painting. Except for the difference in their expressions, the old man in the portrait bore a marked resemblance to Sir Edmund.

Dinadan followed Sir Edmund into the parlor but did not take a seat. When you were in full armor, it was sometimes hard to get out of a comfortable chair. "Tell me about these people who have moved into the neighborhood," he asked his host.

"We don't know much," Sir Edmund replied. "They came from the northeast, armed to the teeth, and took up residence in my north meadow. I'm not using it, so I didn't object. One of them, a tall knight with a black beard and a long, pointy nose, has been down to the village asking questions—mostly asking who the largest landowner in the area is."

"And who is?" Dinadan asked. He had had no trouble recognizing Sir Annui from Sir Edmund's description.

"I am. But I hardly think they'd dare to steal land from a knight, not now that King Arthur's on the throne and we have someone who will enforce the laws."

Dinadan pursed his lips. "If they did—I mean, if they were to attack here at Gracemoor—could you defend it? How many knights do you have?"

Sir Edmund laughed easily. "Knights? I don't have any knights. I told you, this has been such a peaceable county for so long, we haven't kept any at all." He glanced at Dinadan, and his laugh died. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I am," Dinadan said, with sudden resolution. It had all become clear to him. Sir Annui was trying to steal this land and had deceived Lady Miriam in the process. He probably wanted her along to give his intended theft some legitimacy. He was utterly contemptible—first to want to take Sir Edmund's land and second to use such a frail beauty as Lady Miriam for his own dark purposes. "Look here, Sir Edmund, that knight is after your land. See if you can get some of your neighbors together to meet you here, then close your gates and wait. I don't think they can have more than twenty or so men, and as you said, they're not knights, just hired infantry. But don't go anywhere alone if you can help it. He wants you dead."

Sir Edmund nodded. "And what will you do?"

"I may be able to stop the whole thing. I need to talk to someone in their camp." If he could just talk privately to Lady Miriam and tell her what was going on, she might know some way to put an end to Sir Annui's plans. Nodding decisively to Sir Edmund, Dinadan turned on his heel and went back to his horse.

As he rode back over the hill toward Lady Miriam's camp, Dinadan made his plans. He would return by a different route and approach through the woods behind the camp. Leaving his horse in the woods, he would enter the camp on foot and steal up to Lady Miriam's tent from the rear. If all went well, he would find her alone and would be able to speak to her before Sir Annui knew he had returned.

The plan almost worked. Dinadan managed to approach the camp and conceal his horse in the forest unseen. As he crept up to Lady Miriam's tent, though, he heard a murmur of voices from within. Miriam was not alone. Dinadan moved as quietly as he could in armor until he stood right behind the tent, from which position he could clearly hear Sir Annui's voice.

"How much longer must we await your ridiculous champion?" the knight asked. "You don't really believe that stupid child could actually kill Sir Edmund, do you?" Dinadan bristled. He put one hand on his sword and considered charging Sir Annui at once.

"Probably not," came Lady Miriam's voice, and she laughed. "But what have we lost by sending him out?" Dinadan froze, his mind reeling. "If he does, by some miracle, kill Sir Edmund, then we can step in as noble avengers and kill the boy. Sir Edmund's land will be available, and no one thinks the worse of us. And, if the child is killed, all it's cost us is a day of waiting. Your problem, dear Annui, is that your mind isn't subtle enough. You just do what I say, and you'll see who's right."

Dinadan's breast felt hard and heavy. Sir Annui had not been using Lady Miriam for his own ends. If anything, Dinadan realized, it was the other way around.

"I see one flaw in your plan," Sir Annui replied drily. "What if this child realizes he's been duped by a pretty face and decides to just ride on."

"I'm not worried," Lady Miriam said. "And if you had seen his silly little besotted face, you wouldn't be either. That boy is one of those ridiculous males who'll spend his whole life falling in love, slave to every woman he meets, despised by every woman who meets him. If he can crawl, he'll come back to grovel at my feet again."

"And if he does?"

"Why then, you'll kill him, of course. I've no use for him."

Dinadan swallowed. For several seconds he wondered what he should do. He considered turning around and riding away, perhaps to join Sir Edmund in defense of Gracemoor. But he could not see how to get away without being seen, and besides, he didn't want to leave his mare and his rebec. On a sudden impulse, he walked around to the front of Lady Miriam's tent and entered. "I have returned!" he declared grandly.