The Knight (8 page)

Chapter Ten

None of them knew what the time could have been when they heard the roars of the charging beasts approaching the inn from across the fields.

All three had leaped from their beds, dressing quickly in bare armor and drawing their swords as the first of the arrows flew toward the building. Soon there was the crackle of flames coming from the yard and they could hear a woman screaming. The men were already running around trying to put out the fires.

“Get up! Get up! Fill the buckets and pass them down the lines,” they shouted.

As soon as the patches of fire were put out, the men had to run for cover. Another barrage of arrows fell on the building. Rhys couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked out the window and over the field to see the same strange black beast that had killed the stag at Camelot, but this time he had a rider. It was the dark cloaked man.

“Settle in against the archers,” Rhys called down to the residents who had gathered in the yard.

They had no defense against arrows; in fact, they had no defense at all. Two knights and a valet against what looked like a forty-soldier army. The only thing Rhys could think of was evacuating everyone to the forest and deserting the inn.

“Come with me,” Erasmus suddenly said to them both.

They went down the stairs to the kitchen where Anika stood pacing the floor, wringing her hands.

“Who are these people? Why are they trying to kill us?”

“We don’t know, Anika, but we do not intend for anyone to die tonight. Get your husband.”

When Gregor arrived in the kitchen, Erasmus turned to the boys.

“Go with Anika and get all the women and children out of the building and into the woods before the soldiers get any closer, then come back here to me.”

“Yes, Erasmus,” they replied in unison.

“Gregor, get every able-bodied man and boy in here right away. I need them to bring thick stable rope, clay jugs and bottles and all the lamp oil, hoof oil, black tar and lantern fuel that they can find.”

“Right away!”

When the men brought in the supplies, Erasmus quickly showed some of them how to prepare the containers, the fuel, the wicks and the flints to build and operate the makeshift bombs he was constructing. When the process was complete, they carried them up to the catwalk above the yard walls, lined up and waited.

When Rhys and Richard returned, Erasmus gave them each three of the flammable bottles and sent them to a post along the inside of the wall. Crouched down beside the men and boys of Anika and Gregor’s inn, they waited for the soldiers to advance.

It wasn’t long before the creature on top of the big black beast shouted the command and when he did, everyone assigned to Erasmus’ first wave struck their flints and lit the fuse on their first bottle. They counted to ten, then stood and threw the missiles as far as they could into the field. When they hit the ground, a line of burning soldiers were screaming and writhing in the illumination from the fires that broke out everywhere.

When the next line of fighters advanced, Erasmus’s second wave lit their bombs and briefly stood to aim them at the line of soldiers. Again, the front line erupted in flames. So severe was the onslaught that the creatures’ minions turned and fled, screaming for the retreat. Out of sheer curiosity, Rhys stood to take a look at the battlefield. It was then that the black arrow struck him in the shoulder and he fell backwards from the wall.

The last thing he saw was the dark-cloaked man sitting atop the big black beast lowering his bow and… smiling?

***

They took the arrow from Rhys shoulder and there was not much blood that followed it.

“You are very lucky, sir,” the blacksmith said to him, as he dressed the wound and bandaged it tightly.

“Is that what they call it?” Rhys asked, trying to crack a small smile.

His shoulder hurt like hellfire, the wound pulsing as if it were alive. He felt hot and clammy as if a fever would grip him at any moment. Anika washed his forehead with a cold cloth and Erasmus held out a cup of hot liquid for him to drink.

“It’s fever grass,” he explained. “It will help to clean the blood and keep the fever at bay.”

Rhys drank it all and then fanned away Anika’s hand. He rolled over on his good shoulder, sighed and went to sleep.

***

Cumbria, England

Henry was perhaps the least surprised of the Sons that Arthur’s three messengers had met during their journey across the country. He had seemed resigned to the calling, even though he had neither opted to wait for them along the road, nor cut them short in the delivery of their message to him.

They were invited into the castle gates and then into the Great Hall, where their hands and feet were washed by page boys and then a meal was served by the stewards. After they had been suitably refreshed, Henry entered the hall with a book in his hand and a pipe in his mouth. He took a seat by the fireplace and asked them to join him. When the men had been seated and they had exchanged a few pleasantries, the door to the hall opened and the messengers were astonished to see Merlin enter the room.

He was an intimidating man; tall as a cedar tree and gaunt beneath long blue robes that were embroidered richly all over with stars, suns and moons.

“This is the last stop on your noble journey, messengers. I will handle things from here,” Merlin said. “You will rest the night, supply yourselves suitably from Sir Henry’s stores and begin your long journey home in the morning. I will see you off so please do not leave before you have been in my council. The times are dangerous and even this far south of Ayr, Mordred’s sinister work is already underway.”

“Yes, Master!” the three replied in unison before taking their seats near Henry by the fire again.

***

Kenil’s Cross, Worwick’s Shire, England

The next morning Erasmus and Richard were surprised to find that Rhys’ bed was empty and the mattress was already smoothed out and rolled up on the tiny cot. They found him brushing Emrys in the stable yard while the stable boy stood by holding his saddle.

“Rhys, stop this madness,” Erasmus shouted. “Let the boy do it. You are injured.”

“I want to go home!” Rhys replied curtly.

It wasn’t until the words had left his lips that he realized how childish he sounded.

The valet took him by the arm and led him back inside where Anika was busy spooning large ladlesful of barley porridge into bowls for them. When they were seated she passed a plate with bread and cheese down the table.

“At least eat something before you leave, sirs,” Anika said. “It’s the least we can do after you saved our home last night.”

Rhys’ face held his look of determination for just a few moments more before he gave in to her pleas. He spooned the delicious gruel into his mouth until every drop of it was gone.

When he was ready to mount his horse, the stable boy was there again to give him a push up into the saddle. It was clear that riding single-handed was going to be a struggle for him and he felt lucky that they had such a short way left to go.

“Well, if I was not ready for home yesterday, I surely am today,” he said, grimly.

Erasmus sat easily in his horse’s saddle, not showing any fatigue at all from their long journey eastward. He was quite at home on a horse, a seasoned horseman. Like Rhys, his only real possessions when he first came to Avalon were two horses and his armor. Richard marched his horse around the yard impatiently. He was worried for Rhys and eager to get him home and into his family’s care.

“We are ready, sir!” he called to Rhys.

“As am I, Erasmus. Let us be off.”

He nodded his farewell to Gregor and waved to Anika before starting through the gates behind Erasmus. They turned up the road and ambled north toward Kenilwurt Hall. They had been on his grandfather’s lands since the moment they turned east at Brum’s Grove, but the road they were now on led to only one destination and that was home.

The roof of the hall came into view in just a few minutes and Rhys’ stomach started flipping over rapidly. When they rode through the gates, they slowed their horses to a walk and went easily up the tree-lined wagon path. The grove cleared and opened up to a wide glen with flower beds and a flattened wagon circle in front of a grand entranceway to the main house. Rhys’ family members were lined up, waiting outside the door as they rode up.

He jumped from the saddle, grabbing hold to it for a moment to steady himself, then ran into the arms of his sister, Glynnis. Seeing this, Aelwyd and Cadwynn ran to join in the group as well. He gently kissed their faces. When the melee quieted, Rhys turned around to see his parents and grandparents waiting patiently on the steps. His mother’s cheeks were stained with tears and Irelli was wiping her face with her apron. He walked slowly toward them and kneeled, bowing so that each of them could touch the top of his head in greeting.

“What has happened to my son?” Mucuruna demanded of Richard and Erasmus.

“Do not worry, Mother. It is just a superficial wound,” Rhys replied, kneeling before her.

When he stood before his family again, Rhys swayed. Richard ran to catch him and as he held out his arms, Rhys collapsed unconscious in them.

“The arrow,” Erasmus said. “The black ones. They must have been poisoned!”

***

For two solid days Rhys twisted and turned in the throes of a fever-driven, hallucination-filled sleep. No one could rouse him from it and all they could do was try to keep him cool and hydrated until the fever broke, which it did early on their third morning at Kenilwurt. He dragged himself from the bed and into the bath house where the steam from the water hitting the hot stones seemed to calm every muscle in his body. He could feel the poison leaving his body through his opened pores.

When he was clean and feeling more like himself, he slowly dressed and made his way to the kitchen. He was famished and felt like he had gone a year without eating and he knew that Irelli would be already busy getting breakfast ready for the family.

When he stepped into the kitchen, he heard his grandmother speaking quickly to her maids.

“Be a help and take the bread out of the oven Clara; it’s done baking,” Irelli said to a girl as Rhys entered the kitchen.

“Of course, milady,” she replied.

Reaching for the wooden paddle, she used it to disperse the red hot coals and pull out the loaves from the brick dome. The kitchen was warm and toasty, despite the sun having not yet risen. Even in the midst of summer, Worwick had a constant dampness in the air, making everything feel dull and soggy, so the dry warmth of the kitchen air was a vivid reminder to Rhys of the vibrant summers of Avalon. He felt saddened by the memory, confused as to why Avalon would stir up feelings of homesickness.

“Good morning, Grandmother,” he said weakly. “May I bother you for some porridge?”

“Oh bless the goddess! Rhys, you are awake!”

She rushed to hug him tightly to her and rocked him in her arms like a baby.

“I’m awake. I’m alive and I’m starving!”

“Oh, yes, of course. Here is a bowl. Eat, eat!”

The porridge was hearty and it filled him up as quickly as he could eat it. Irelli fussed and fawned over her baking until the scullery maids came in to start working for the day. They all stopped and made quick little curtsies to Irelli and Rhys. Feeling better, Rhys jumped up from his chair to bow in return, sending his stool tipping over on the floor. The girls giggled uncontrollably, blushing bright red until Irelli clucked at them and they exited to the maids’ closets to change into their aprons.

Rhys sipped a mug of tea that Irelli had given him as he watched the goings on around him unfold. Mornings were always the busiest time of day in an estate’s kitchen; this was also true at Avalon where he spent some of his mornings with Amarelle. It was not just time to prepare the breakfast, but also the time of day when all the food deliveries and the supplies for days to come would arrive. The milkmaid brought in two buckets of fresh milk followed by her younger sister who carried a huge basket on her head containing a large pot of butter, a jug of cream, one heavy slab of cheese and a cloth full of soft, salted cheese curds. One of the scullery maids checked the contents of the basket and paid the girls for their wares. She then turned to pour a bucket of the new milk into a large pot which was already on the stove. She covered the other and took it into the pantry along with the basket of goods. Not long after, one of the maids came in with a basket full of eggs which she placed beside the stove and then went to wash her hands. Another maid immediately came to stir the simmering pot of boiling water and vinegar and then started breaking the eggs into the swirl she had created.

Just then, the egg-fetching maid had the breads out on the table, slicing them with a large, sharp knife and arranging the slices along with the buns into a cloth-lined basket. The milk-scalding maid returned to the kitchen and took the milk pot from the fire just as the froth began to rise to the top. She ladled some of the hot milk into a jug and left the rest to cool in the pot. The egg-poaching maid was now slicing a slab of salt-cured bacon, while milk-scalding maid had started to fry some sausages.