The Black and White Knight part 1, Page 2

Back From The Dying

  Enarrah was a few steps from the chamber door and stopped. She had to wait for a few moments to settle her beating heart, she tried to convince herself it came from hurrying through the halls and not from seeing the amazing knight. He had some great goodness all about him, as if it were a part of him. His acts of violence seemed to pale in comparison with his acts of kindness, even when they were intertwined. She was more confused than ever and she resolved to set him out of her mind and concentrate on her patient.

  As she readied herself to see Sir William, familiar footsteps behind her tell her of the presence of Ivar.

 

  “My Lady, the knight wishes to see you before he leaves.”

 

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Why does he wish to see me?” 'Her mind races from one possibility to another, not finding an answer.'

 

  “I know not, but it must be a matter of some importance or he would not have asked to see the ‘Lady of the Castle’.”

  She tenses and rings her hands.

  “It can only be a matter that bodes for good My Lady.”

  She looks at her hands and slowly puts them down to her sides. “I cannot.”

  Captain Ivar waits.

  “No, no, I cannot, I must attend to Lord William, I am already late.”

  “As you wish, I will ask his purpose.”

  She can only nod her head as Ivar turns and walks away. She takes several deep breaths and steadies herself.

  +++++

  Luke was checking his gear, for the second time.

  “Lady Enarrah regrets she cannot see you and asks that you relate the purpose of your request.”

  Shahjeen sidled over, shifting his weight.

  “Ivar, you are a man of men and so I will tell you it is just as well your fair lady has refused to see me, for I am awash in a sea of emotions.”

  “Thank you for your trust Sir Luke. She is a remarkable woman and her heart has known little but anguish these long months. I would do all in my power to see that she suffered no more it.”

  “I‘ll take that to my heart. Now I must be gone.”

 

  Luke took three gold coins and handed them to Ivar as he led a now relaxed Shahjeen from the stable.

  “What are these for?”

  “The matter I wish to discuss with your lady. The first two are to secure the twins as my pages from this holding. The last for new clothes. They will never wear rags again and Gavin is working on their boots and vests.”

  A smile cracked the corners of Ivar’s wide face. “This is not the reason I thought of your purpose to see Lady Enarrah. I will relay your wishes to her and, you have my respect and gratitude.”

  “One final thing Captain, among your ranks is a man known as Robert the Good, you know of him do you not?”

 

  “I do indeed, he’s the best of the lot, bar none, no mere guard that. Each time I try to advance him, he has refused.”

  Luke smiles and Ivar asks, “You know this man?”

 

  “He is a Knight, a great and noble knight. If need be, Sir Robert Verregon of Rangeley will fight by your side to the death to defend this place.”

  “As you say.”

  Luke clasps Ivar by the forearm and says, “A plan well made and deeds well done, I am away.”

  Sir Luke mounts his horse and rides through the gate into the darkness.

 

  Ivar thinks to himself: 'There is hope for Strathenham. Luke Wynnewood is his name.'

  +++++

  As Enarrah entered Sir Williams chamber she leaves the door ajar to let in some of the fresh air.

  She busied herself organizing for a few minutes, trying to calm down and concentrate. She straightened linens on a dresser and curtains on one window.

 

  She turned back to the bed and Sir William was propped on his pillows breathing softly. Thinking him asleep she went about her routine.

  With a rustling of bed clothes she turned to see that he was watching her. Good, she thought, 'he’s awake'. She went to the side table to mix the brew of fresh herbs that she gave to Sir William each day.

 

  “You’re late.”

  She glanced at the table opposite, next to his bed and saw that his supper had barely been touched.

  Trying to organize her thoughts she said, “You have not eaten, was it not appealing?”

 

  “You’re late, you are never late.”

  Trying to rein in her raging emotions and downplay the excitement of the day she steadied herself,

 

  “There were some outlaws apprehended outside the castle.”

  “Come fix my pillows lass.”

 

  She helped him lean forward and fluffed the pillows behind his back so he sat straighter.

  As his eyes watched her movements, in a whisper he said “No, not that... not that surely... that wasn’t it. I could not have heard sounds from outside the castle walls. A war cry from my past ran through my head. I must have been dreaming of my days in the crusades and the din of battle.”

 

  She froze.

  “Ahh, there is something. I can see it in the very look of you. You look as nervous as a cat on a hot rock. To top it off, Philburt has not been in to pester me all day. What’s going on my Cornish lassie?”

  Enarrah turned back trying to think of what to say. He would have none of that and gently grasped her arm and said, “Sit down girl.”

  She didn’t know whether to run or to scream so she did the next best thing. She sat down on the edge of the bed, dropped her head into her hands and began to weep.

  “There, there my wee lassie, what’s all this. Everything will be fine, Uncle William will make it so. “

  Her sobs started over again, “Oh, I’ve made a terrible mess of things. What am I to do?”

 

  She realized her hands, face and dress were wet with tears. The next thing she realized was the goblet of wine being pushed into her hands. When she opened her eyes, there standing before her in his dressing gown, hair tousled, was Sir William.

  “Here young lady, you need this more than I do.”

 

  She looked up into his eyes and he smiled down at her, “You're... you’re standing. You can walk. It’s a miracle.”

 

  “Nay gelle, ‘tis no miracle. I never said I couldn’t walk. I just chose not to. The same as I chose not to live life as I should these long months. The same as I chose not to leave this room, because of the pain in my heart that I am unable to bear or to face.”

  “Then,” stammering, “then --- you’re not dying?”

 

  “Well, yes and no. My heart has been dying a little each day since I came home to find my sweet Violet gone. But my body, it seems, won’t let my heart give up. Enough of that. What is it has happened that has caused you to be in such a tizzy? Take a sip of the wine to settle yourself and start at the beginning.”

  “It was so terrible, he killed those men and Neeley too. But he’s just so wonderful and caring, but it was so terrible. Oh, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think. He looks at me with those midnight eyes and my stomach gets warm and my knees get weak. Oh, Sir William it is all my fault, what am I do do?”

 

  “What man has done all this ?”

  “The knight that came to my rescue when we were attacked in The Darks.”

  “A knight you say? What is his name?”

  “He never gave it Uncle William, not to me anyway and I never had time to ask. The second time was when Neeley was beating the stable boys and the knight crushed him and threw him over the parapet.” She shuddered remembering the gruesome event. None of this would have happened if I had not gone outside the castle walls without an escort.”

  William remembers. “Then it was a war cry but Lord in Heaven surely not the one I believe it t
o be.”

  “War cry,” she said, “It was a sound I thought no man or beast could ever make. It chilled me to the bone.”

 

  Getting himself a glass of wine William says, “Describe this knight to me.”

 

  “He is tall and handsome with violet eyes that turn to black when the fury is upon him and he has light colored hair.”

  “Like the sun?”

  “Yes, yes, like the sun.”

  “Tell me how he acted when first you saw him.”

  “He whirled between the six men who attacked Mairi, Elsbeth and I. It was all a blur, all at once; and even though I saw it I still can’t believe it. He... he... danced among them and they were all dead. It was horrible and graceful all at once, and the confusing part is that I could sense no evil in him whatever.”

  Enarrah looked away realizing what she had said.

 

  “What colors did he wear?”

  Thinking that Sir William had missed the last part of what she said, she replied ,“They were not really colors, just alternating black and white with a cross on every square.”

 

  “And did he have two swords, one long and one shorter that was curved?”

  “Why yes,” she replied, not able to hide her surprise. “How did you know?”

 

  “Because,” he said. “There can be only one man in all the world as you have described. I know this man, your knight, very well.”

  She stared at him, speechless and in disbelief.

  “I tell you this Enarrah, there is a reason for your knees to go weak and belly warm when your thoughts turn to him.”

  Afraid he will not continue she entreats, “Please, I pray you, go on.”

  Your divining skill does not deceive you. Because you see, my dear young lady, there is no evil in him whatever. There is no kinder, more decent man anywhere.”

  Now on her guard, she says, “My --- divining --- skill?”

  “Now don’t be gettin’ all skittery on me lass, I know of your special gifts. I’ve expected you to have them. Your mother Pauline had them and to a lesser degree your Aunt Violet. It was your Grandmother Alicia the Kind who was truly blessed. She could divine the motives of men by hearing their words and the manner of their presence. And if they touched her hand she instantly knew if they were good or evil and to what degree. An amazing woman she was.”

  “Aunt Violet told me as much, Uncle William, but I never knew that you had the knowledge of it as well. I often have deep feelings of Grandmother”

  “It’s no small wonder that, for you favor her in many ways. She was revered and respected by all of us who knew and loved her, and; she was reviled by people of deceit and treachery. Do not shun your gifts dear girl, embrace them. But, enough of that for now, your secret is safe with me; right now we have other matters to attend to.

 

  “This knight is full of kindness. He held young Broox the stable boy as a father would hold his own son. Uncle, what is his name?”

  “Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco, the youngest man to have ever been knighted by the hand of King Baldwin The Jerusalem.”

 

  ‘Luke Wynnewood’, his name feels like a warm summer wind, drifting through her mind and around her heart.

  They sit in silence, sipping their wine.

  “Where is he now lass?”

  “Oh no, it is all my fault,” Enarrah said and the tears begin again.

  “Easy lass easy. What is your fault?”

  “Oh, Uncle William, after the attack in The Darks in a rush of indignation I told Philburt to send him away. Later on, after he killed Neeley, Philburt was furious and did sent him away.

 

  “Stableman Neeley, pile of offal more the like... more than once I had thought to leave this room and put an end to him myself.”

  Tears running down her cheeks as a whisper passes from her lips, “Luke is gone.”

 

  “No, no he is not. If he is not here right now, he is not far away.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “As the good Lord is my Maker, I know so.”

  “Tell me about him Uncle.”

  We lived and fought together in the Holy Land. He was knighted after his first battle and the king assigned me to mentor him in the ways of battle and court life. He is no longer a specter in the mist or a whispered legend, he is back!”

 

  “A specter?”

  “Yes, he disappeared from the Battle of the City of Jerusalem. Since that day whenever a soldier or warrior has spoken of The Ghost; it has been of Luke Wynnewood that they speak. Since he has journeyed this far through Northern Britain others know as well that our Black and White Knight is alive and well.”

  “What can we do? The killers that attacked my maids and I were sent from Lord Alexander and Neeley was his spy inside these walls; all this was revealed by Sir Luke. Philburt told the knight that he, Philburt, was Lord of Elleghane and ordered Captain Ivar to send Luke away. He asked to see me before he left but I refused.”

 

  “Fear not Enarrah; there is a great deal we can do. The first thing is for you to say nothing about myself and Sir Luke. I wager that with Philburt bandying about his mother’s surname that Luke doesn’t even know I am here.”

 

  “Actually Uncle William, Philburt told Sir Luke that he was the lord of this castle.”

  “Did he now? The young upstart; we'll soon change that.”

  There came a quiet knock at the door. The voice without inquired: “Lady Enarrah, this is Captain Ivar, I need speak with you.”

  “I’m going to enjoy this... go to the door and tell him to wait just a minute,” instructed Sir William.

  Going to the door she tells the Captain to wait and watches in amazement as Sir William scurries around sets goblets aside, scrambles into bed, pulls on the covers and feigns sleep. He nods to her and says, “Bid him enter and make sure he is alone.”

  A small smile played on her lips as she understood what William was up to; she opened the door a crack and asked Ivar, “Are you alone?”

  The Captain saw her smile and was perplexed. He looked up and down the corridor and said, “Why yes, I am.”

 

  She opened the door and said, “Come in.”

  “All I need is a word, I don’t wish to disturb Lord William.”

  “Please come in!”she said in a loud whisper.

 

  He hesitated and was amazed when she reached forward and pulled him through the door. Ivar stared at Enarrah; the dear Lady of the castle had never laid hands upon him before. To the proper Captain it was dissembling, as he stared at her, speechless, she shut and bolted the door.

  He was watching her still, trying to recover himself when a voice from behind him said: “You’re going to have to do better than that lassie, if we’re going to make this all work.”

  He turned to see Sir William Northerland sitting straight up in bed waving a wary finger at Lady Enarrah. She walked the few steps forward and gave a curtsy flowing her dress to the sides as she did and saying sweetly, “Yes Uncle William.”

 

  Captain Ivar looked first at Enarrah then at Lord William and managed to say, “Lord, you are well?”

  “Very nearly so... well, I’m working at it anyway. Pull up a chair Ivar, we have to talk and I believe you have a message for this young lady, do you not?”

 

  “Yes, Lord William, as a matter of fact I do.”

  And it is from the Black and White Knight, is it not?”

  “Indeed it is my lord.”

  “Then, pray tell man; give her the message and take a seat, you look positively pale.”

  “Yes, my Lord, thank you.”

  Ivar took a chair from nearby, brought it to the bed and sat, taking three coins from his pocket as he did so.

  “Sir Luke regrets that Lady Ena
rrah would not see him in person and told me the reason for his request.”

 

  Ivar handed the three gold coins to Enarrah and said, “Two of the coins are for the twins page ship as recompense to the castle and the third coin is for their colors and new clothes.”

  “There’s been no pages here in eighty years. Just like him” William said, “He does us this great honor and knows not that I am even the Lord here..”

  Enarrah stared down at the three coins in her hand. A small fortune.

  She looked at Sir William who said, “This is Luke all over... a proper knight and gentleman.”

  “I told him just the same, my lord,” and his voice trailed off. Ivar could speak no further because of the sight of his good Lord in such improved health and good humor.

 

  “Enarrah, give our good captain here some wine before he swoons. You young lady are going to be busy. No one else is to know of my improved condition, just yet. I will reveal myself in my own good time. And, no more giggles.” He looked at Enarrah.

  With a straight face and perfect posture, Enarrah curtsied, giggled said, “Yes, my lord.”

  “Firstly, have my bath filled. Secondly, have Bertrand sent up to me and lastly, have Heatherlyn send up two of her little meat pies and some of your Honeyspice wine.”

 

  Enarrah held out her hand containing the coins, “What of these?”

  “Put them away, we will soon set all accounts to right.”

  She put the coins in her skirt pocket and headed to the door to accomplish her tasks.

  “Ivar, tell me all that has happened and leave out no detail.”

  Ivar related all the incidents involved around the arrival of Sir Luke. There was admiration reflected in the voice of the captain. After an hour of discourse, Ivar left with instructions on castle security; and, to tell his sons they were summoned.

  Feeling he had somehow in some way been redeemed, Ivar said, “Is there anything else you wish me to do for you Sire?”

 

  Lord William gave him a long look and said, “Ivar, you have been a good and trusted Captain. I will tell you this, with Wynnewood here, there will be a reckoning.

  Heatherlyn herself came up from the kitchen with the pies and the wine. She set the tray down on the table next to the bed as Sir William watched, feigning sleep. Before turning away she folded her arms across her ample chest and said, “It is good to have you back my lord.”

 

  Opening his eyes William said,“Not a word Madame Stewardess.”

  “Not a word my lord.”

  “Congratulations about the twins.”

  Sir Luke is a Godsend Lord William, he saved the lives of my boys. “

  “Dear Lady, I am even more indebted to him for that; prepare for a banquet in one weeks time, a grand one, with all the frills.”

 

  “As you wish Lord William,” and she left.

  Sir William sat sipping wine with his mind on many things. Not the least of which was knowing full well that Enarrah was directly in harm’s way.

  Revelation

  Philburt wandered through the castle trying to organize his thoughts. He fingered the pouch containing the gold coins. Neeley had been a spy for Shafterly, Alexander’s hired thug. So the activities in the castle were all known to Lord Alexander. But to what end? What could there be here that could interest the lord enough to pay solid gold coin to a miscreant like Neeley? What could Neeley possibly tell him that was of such importance?

  Philburt felt pangs of conscience about telling the knight that he was lord of the castle and felt even worse for sending him away. After dispatching seven enemies of the household the knight was not a threat, but the Acting Lord could not come to grips with the man’s arrogance at giving orders to the castle priest and his guards. Where in heavens' name had this man come from?

  He was brought out of his own thoughts with the clomping of feet and the clatter of weapons. He looked round to find that he had walked into the bailey and groups of guards were moving to and fro, many with bows and full quivers. He had given no orders for bowmen or increases in the number of guards on duty. He stopped a passing group of men and asked, “Where is Captain Ivar?”

  “In the armory, Sir Philburt.”

  “In the armory? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Lord Philburt, just now.”

  Philburt strode through the bailey from the barbicon to the base of the north tower. As he entered through the armory door, more guards came out. He was becoming agitated. 'What in the name of blue blazes was going on?'

  As he caught sight of Ivar he exclaimed, “I gave no orders for more guards or archers.”

  “No, Lord Philburt, you did not,” Ivar stated.

  His face reddening with anger, he shouted, “Well, then who did?”

  As calm as before Ivar stated, “The Lord of Strathenham Castle, and he wishes to see you.”

  Philburt went pale. In a barely audible voice he questioned, “father?”

  “Yes, the very same, and it was by his order that we are fortifying the castle defenses.”

  With a sudden flash of thought, Philburt said, “Wait, did the knight do this? Where is that knight? You should have sent him away.”

  “Yes, Sir Philburt, Sir Luke is gone from the castle.”

  “Sir Luke? His name is Sir Luke? Sir Luke what?”

  “Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco,” Ivar stated.

  Philburt turned away thinking to himself. 'My father did this? My feeble, on his deathbed father, did this?' Philburt strode through the bailey up to the staircase, half way up he met Enarrah coming down, her arms full of black and white linens.

  Philburt stopped her and asked, “What is all of this? Have you taken over the laundress duties as well?”

  “Why no Philburt,” she answers politely. “These clothes are for the Pages.”

  “Pages? There are no Pages at Strathenham. Of whom do you speak?”

  Hiding a smirk Enarrah quipped, “Why I speak of the two stable boys, Heatherlyn’s twins, Broox and Ashe.” She waits, there is no response.

  Philburt is struck dumb.

  Finally, in a low irritated tone he says, “There was no petition for Pages from this castle.”

  Enarrah says, “No, there was no petition made to you.”

  His anger peaking again and unable to stop himself Philburt blurts out, “Then who is responsible for this?” And at that very instant he knows the answer.

  Before he can stop her reply, Enarrah says. ”I am afraid that is something you will have to take up with the Lord of Strathenham.”

  Philburt moans as he turns away hearing the final words, vaulting up the steps three at a time. He is running by the time he gets to his fathers chamber door. Before bursting in, he gathers his wits and knocks. The voice that greets him from within is not weak and is not feeble and is one that he has not heard for a long time. A voice that he thought never to hear again...and it says one word, “Enter.”

  To stop his trembling hand, his knuckles turn white as he grips the latch and opens the door. He walks in and with an intake of breath takes in the sight before his eyes. As he has been want to do every time he has entered this room during his fathers illness he looks at the bed first. It is empty, and neatly made. The room is orderly with candles lit everywhere and the smell of flowers fill the air. There, sitting at his writing table is his father. He is washed and shaved, dressed in an immaculate scarlet tunic trimmed with white ermine and blue piping. The Elleghane colors. His cheeks are flushed and hardy as he sits scribing upon parchment.

  Feeling as if he were a child again waiting for a lecture. A small voice says, “Father?”

  William looks up and Philburt sees the penetrating eyes that look right inside him, as they always did. Watching, he sees his father get up, walk across the room to the casement window, close it, and draw shut the heavy velvet drapes. As he walks back to his desk he slaps Philburt on the
shoulder and says, “Not to worry lad there is nothing that you have done so serious that it cannot be undone.”

  As William sits, Philburt sees the lithe grace of movement that are his fathers trademark. Philburt feels the floor falling out beneath his feet and says, “But, you were ill... you were dying?”

  William answers, “Ill yes. Sick at heart yes. Dying? Well, yes even that. But I am recovering. I am almost as surprised as you. All thanks to sweet Enarrah and her new friend.

  “New friend?”

  “Why yes, I believe he saved her life as well as the lives of several others in this castle.”

  Filled with anger Philburt almost begins to retort but thinks of the words that his father has spoken, realizes their truth and he says nothing. All pretext fails him and he says, “I must sit down.”

  The voice is back and replies, “Before you do that go fetch your two brothers and bring them.”

  As Philburt turns William says, “Have a glass of a wine before you go son, a little refreshment always does a body good.”

  Philburt drains a cup and stares at the bottom feeling confusion sneak up in him.

  A reassuring voice says, “Son?”

  “Yes, father?”

  “This castle is in the midst of a hard way. I need you to gather all your wits and strength to help all of us.”

  Hearing the words that he has never heard before Philburt says “You need my help?”

  “Yes, son, I do.”

  A real strength comes from deep within Philburt, the strength of his youth and he says, “Then you shall have it father!”

  Passing down the hall Philburt encounters Enarrah. He stops and says, “You knew.”

  With a broad smile she says. “Yes. He became himself just a short while ago. Oh, dear Philburt, I could not thwart your father’s plan to tell you of his recovery himself.”

  Philburt muses. “It is almost like he was never ill. He is his old self. It is like he is young again, as if we were his boys again.”

  Enarrah hears the note of change in Philburt’s voice and she says, “He has his faith back.”

  “Yes, it seems he does, as do I as well.”

  “I am glad of it Philburt, truly glad, for I love your father dearly.”

  “Thank you little cousin,” he says with a smile and slight bow.

  They pass on.

  Recognizing her knock upon his door William bids her enter. He is still at his desk writing. She sees the man she looked up to as a little girl, and who has been in her care for these many months. Ever the brooding hen she says, “You have just come back to us from a long trial, please Uncle William you must not overtax yourself.” She walks to her medicine table and begins mixing, “I’ll fix you a tisane to help you rest.”

  “T’were my choice I would have none of your foul concoctions ever again. In truth, to you, I am weary and your tonics do make me feel better. Leave me your mixture and as soon as I have seen my boys I’ll drink your foul stuff and go to bed. You young lady must also need rest. You have had the longest day of your life and there will be many long ones to come.”

  She nods her head, “Thank you, Uncle William, sleep calls me, I am to my bed.”

  “Good gel, on the way then, and tell Heatherlyn that we break our fast in the great hall at first light.”

  “Yes, Sir William.” She says as she goes.

  As she heads to the kitchen to relay William’s message her mind and her heart keep going back to one subject – Sir Luke Wynnewood. She prays and hopes, that her knight will soon return. She didn’t know how long she had been thinking of him as her knight. It just felt right. Her knight...

  Missions

  Heading downstairs through the bailey, Philburt knows that he will find Thomas in the stable. His thoughts are racing but his father’s entreaty for his help is forefront in his mind. He stands looking around the great castle. It somehow looms larger than it did that morning. The great stones of the masonry and the big hanging tapestries seem to loom over him. Yet, he doesn’t feel smaller or lessened, a greater feeling from his young adulthood washes over him. It was an ingrained sense of purpose but one that had been reinforced to himself and his brothers by their father’s teachings.

  They were all a physical part of this vast structure and the bonds between family were as important as the mortar between the stone to keep the castle strong and able to endure. It had been years since he had thought of these things and now they seemed all great and new again. His conscience nagged at him for sending Sir Luke away. As he walked into the stable yard he wondered how his brothers would react to their father’s return.

  Thomas was standing next to rail fence as Philburt approached. He said to his youngest brother, “We have been summoned.”

  A look of surprise caught Thomas’ face. “Summoned? Summoned by whom?”

  “By father.”

  Caught off guard Thomas stutters, “Our father... is he??”

  “He is hale and hearty.” Philburt said, not able to suppress the smile that quirked the corner of his mouth at the look at Thomas’ astonishment.

  Coming back to his senses Thomas replies, “Surely, you jest.”

  “I do not.”

  Thomas stands for a few moments then grabs his brother by his shoulders and shakes him saying, “Is it true? Is it really true?”

  Philburt’s smile broadens and he reaffirms, “Yes, it is really true.”

  Catching himself Thomas unhands his brother looking a little chagrined at his overt show of affection. He says, “Then we must go to him, oh, wait, we must find Randolph. He will be even more amazed than I am. I loath to say it but Randolph had thoughts that he would be forever squashed under the thumb of you, his overbearing big brother.

  Philburt replied, “It is a time for awakening and change. From the look on father’s face Randolph may soon find himself extremely busy.”

  “You have seen him? What’s he like? Is he truly himself?”

  “You shall see for yourself. Let’s find our middle brother.”

  “I think I know where he is.”

  Philburt extends a hand. “After you.”

  Through the castle toward the east tower they move with a purpose.

  Thomas exclaims, “I can’t believe it, I just can’t believe it.”

  They round a bend in the wall and find Randolph with two of the guards checking their weapons. He looks up, takes a diminutive half step backwards and says, “Oh grief and bother, the two of you together, that doesn’t bode well. Captain Ivar has had me inventorying and categorizing our weapons and I am to give him my report on the morrow.”

  Keeping a straight face Thomas defers to his older brother who says, “You have been summoned.”

  Looking Philburt up and down and then looking Thomas up and down Randolph says, “By whom?”

  With steady calm voices they both answer, “Father.”

  Without missing a step Randolph launches into a verbal tirade waving his arms. “I knew it. He’s dying isn’t he and he wants to see us all before he goes. I just knew it. I talked to the cute little serving girl that brought him his breakfast and she said that he was listless and weak, I‘m in for it now. I like you well enough Philburt but with father gone you’ll make my life miserable.”

  Looking very stern and having toyed with the thought of letting his brother think his rantings were true Philburt decided to tell him the true state of things.

  Before he could speak, Randolph was off again, “I knew it. I am going to be miserable for years to come. I’ll never see that cute little princess at court again and I’ll be stuck here ‘til I’m old and gray...”

  Before he could go on Philburt interrupted saying, “Ahhh, no.”

  Startled, Randolph looked up into his brothers eyes and asked. “No! What do you mean no? No what?”

  Philburt couldn’t resist the temptation. He let the silence of the moment linger on and watched as his all too often quick to judge brother squirmed like a fish at
the end of a hook.

  Thomas couldn’t stand it any longer and urged. “Go on Philburt, tell him.”

  In a whisper Philburt confided as he leaned forward, “Father is well and has summoned the three of us.”

  Philburt watched with intense inner amusement as the moments passed by and Thomas extended a hand under Randolph’s chin and closed his gaping mouth.

  Randolph looked at his little brother and Thomas said, “Tis true; Philburt has seen him.”

  Randolph turned back toward his oldest brother and Philburt urged, “We must go.”

  +++++

  Sir William reread the last of the letters he had written. He folded it, placed his wax seal upon it and laid his hands upon it in front of him on the desk. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and his thoughts returned to a time long before. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had first met the young and brash soldier that had become the talk of the king’s court in Jerusalem and in all of Persia. Luke’s exploits in having saved the Calif’s son from certain death and being accepted into the household of that wizened old tribesman were the stuff that legends were made of. Indeed, it is a legend Wynnewood had become, several times over.

  He had become entranced of Princess Aramina, Calif Jahar’s daughter. Jahar had used his vibrant personality and wily ways to deftly replace Luke’s affections for the Princess with gifts, as well as his freedom. For no Christian could join with any Muslim without terrible consequences. In order to preserve the young lady’s reputation and to reward Luke’s skill and courage in fighting, Shahjeen the warhorse and a unique scimitar had been his reward. He was then ushered from the Calif’s palace with a veiled warning never to return.

  Luke Wynnewood had been honored by the king not only for his valor but also for his political savvy in not creating a major incident between the two warring factions. Luke being the king’s youngest adviser he was given into wardship of the kings oldest adviser, Sir William Northerlund himself. It had been both a glorious time and a terrible time to be in service to God and King. Months later in a vicious battle Sir Luke Wynnewood disappeared and had not been seen since.

  Now here he was, in Scotland, on Elleghane lands, apparently enamored of the Lady Enarrah, and she of him. He and Luke’s actual time together had been short but their experiences and adventures however, filled a lifetime. The bonds between them were forged in the heat of battle. They had become true and best friends based on their mutual beliefs in truth and morality. The difference however, was that where William and most other men had to find their faith, Luke was simply born with it. In witnessing this true spirit of goodness, those that knew him loved him because of this. There were also those that hated him because of it, not being able to possess it themselves.

  In Jerusalem when Luke disappeared, William thought that he had lost him forever. The blow that had taken an even worse toll was when he arrived home to Elleghane and found his beloved wife, Violet, had died from a terrible fever just prior to his return. She had ministered to the sick and dying and in doing so had contracted the illness and she herself passed away.

  William had then gone to his bed and would not get up. He felt no will to go on. With his sons squabbling between themselves and the castle in disarray, in spite of himself he turned back toward life and hope a little more each day. This was due to Enarrah’s love and attention. He had wanted to tell her how thankful he was a dozen times over and also tell her the true story behind her grandmother and family. The time had never seemed right and no doubt he’d found other excuses to remain silent. Well, the time for silence was now over. His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on his door.

  “Who is it?” a barely audible voice feebly asked.

  Outside the door came the reply, “Your sons.”

  “And no other?”

  “And no other.”

  A solid boisterous reply came from within, “Come in lads!”

  The brothers stared at one another in wide eyed wonder. Philburt grabbed the handle on the door with a smile on his lips and with a wave of his hand and a flourishing bow Philburt ushered his brothers forward.

  Philburt was not prepared for the sight before him, even having seen his father just a short time before. There, standing next to his writing table was their father in his finest clothes, neat and proper.

  “Easy boys.” he said as he approached Philburt and offered his hand. Philburt took his hand and arm. The grasp was firm, his father looked thin but his complexion was ruddy (perhaps with a little help from the wine).

  He shook hands with Thomas who uttered, “Oh father.”

  Before anyone else could speak, Randolph clasped his fathers other arm and said, “Is it really you?”

  “Aye, young son, it is truly me.”

  He bade them all sit in the three chairs that had been placed before his desk. William sat in the great chair behind his desk saying, “I have tasks for you all, but before I go into that there is something I must say. Listen well, for I’ll not repeat it. I had my own reasons for going to war for the Holy See, and they are a matter of conscience between myself and God alone and are not for discussion. However, I will tell you this. It was a time full of greatness and a time of great sorrow. It was my good fortune to meet some of the finest men in the world and to live and fight side by side with them. Sir Luke Wynnewood was one of those men.

  Take particular attention to what I tell you now. No matter what anyone may ever say to you the truth is this; that even though the Saracens took back the city of Jerusalem it was we knights who kept it intact and saved the population from certain destruction. So, whatever great and simple minds may look upon it as a defeat we who were there and fought the fight will always look at it as a victory.”

  Philburt interrupted, “But we thought...”

  Before he could finish William held up a hand and said, “Perhaps I should have explained sooner but in that respect I erred on the side of misfortune. I had thought my best friend was lost to me forever and on top of that when I arrived home your dear mother had passed on.”

  Dead silence filled the room as the three young men looked upon their father. It was his teachings throughout their lives that had given them all the reason to do what was right and good and to ever strive to alleviate suffering.

  Sitting straight and tall Philburt said, “tell us what you would have us do.”

  “And it will be done.” As Randolph finished his sentence.

  Rubbing his eye as if to rub a speck away William spoke, “Firstly Randolph, I hold in my hand a missive that you are to take personally to Sir Leonard Carr, the Legate of the King in Edinburgh. Your journey there and back should take less than a week, sooner I hope. Sir Carr will give you documents with which to return. Say nothing of this to anyone. Preparations are now being made and you will leave first thing in the morning. Thomas will help you prepare. Go fully armed and make all haste during your journey. I cannot stress enough the great responsibility that this is. Our future and our lands depend upon the importance of it.”

  As his father looked at him, Randolph solidly affirmed, “Yes, father.”

  “Now, young Thomas that brings me to you. It has come to my attention that our stableman has met his most well-deserved demise. (In his mind Philburt could still see the crumpled whimpering body being effortlessly tossed over the parapet.)

  Jumping to conclusions, as it was his wont to do Thomas blurted out, with no small measure of dismay. “Father, do you mean to make me the stable master?”

  “No Thomas, however, you do have a vast knowledge of husbandry, a great deal of natural talent and a fine eye for horses and stock breeding.”

  Sitting straighter after his fathers accolades Thomas says, “Yes, but?”

  William raised his hand for silence again and said, “You are to be, for this castle and all its properties, The Master of Horse. We have a moderate size herd of horses with several good brood mares in the lot. That herd has this very day been increased by six. Th
omas, with your ability I know you can increase our family wealth and prestige.

  Thomas feels himself filling with pride and says, “Yes, father, thank you.”

  Just then there comes a knock on the door. William quickly holds a finger to his lips to his sons and in a raspy voice says, “Who is it?”

  “Ivar”, comes the reply from the other side of the door.

  William calls out briskly, “Come in, come in.”

  Once inside the room with the door shut. Williams says, “Ivar your timing is perfect as ever it has been.”

  Seeing that Ivar is not the least bit surprised by Sir Williams condition Randolph and Philburt exclaim, “You knew!”

  Ivar replied, “Only for a short time young Sirs, it was truly a surprise to me as well.”

  Thomas turned to his father, “Are we the last ones to know?”

  Williams replies, “Not everyone knows, the four of you, Enarrah, Heatherlyn and Bertrand of course. Ivar, I am sending Randolph to Edinburgh with a letter for the King’s Legate. Can we spare six good men for his escort?”

  “Yes, I believe we can plus there is one here that you might wish to send with him.”

  William asks, “As I have assessed the threat against us, the six guards can be spared and there is no other that I can think of that should go.

  “Meaning no disrespect there is a man I believe you need to meet. He arrived here after you were taken abed. Only this very day he was given over into my confidence by Sir Luke.”

  The brothers exchanged glances and Thomas says, “I thought The Black and White Knight was gone from here.”

  Ivar replies, “Gone for now yes, but on this you may depend. He will return.”

  Without thinking first, Philburt speaks up, “How can you know this?” And then it dawns on him and he says aloud, “The pages! His pages are here.”

  William says, “All will be told to you in good time and soon. This much I will tell all of you now. If it were not for The Black and White Knight, the man they call the Ghost and my friend, I would not be here today. He saved my life in battle and he has now saved my spirit in peace.”

  “But father, does he even know you are here?” Philburt asks.

  “No, but that is of no import. He knows that there are wrongs being committed here and he will stay until they are all put right or he will die trying. That is his way.”

  Silence again falls upon the room and William says, “Ivar, put the man that Sir Luke recommended in my anteroom and go with Randolph and Thomas to prepare to the trip to Edinburgh.”

  After the door is closed, Philburt turns to his father. “It is true then about his dance of death?”

  “About the six men you mean? Undoubtedly so. Philburt there are many things in this life which are hard to believe and I will tell you this. I know Sir Luke Wynnewood very well. When he and I were first met as brothers in arms he was not yet a knight. At that time twenty of us, including Luke, were put on an escort duty for the King’s sister. Half way to our destination we were attacked and outnumbered ten to one. Surrounded, we thought all our lives would come to an end there in the desert. When the battle commenced Luke simply whirled among them, dancing like a deadly sirocco wind. In a short time he had single-handedly slain half there number.

  Philburt you will one day become a good leader and a good lord, so there are things which I will tell you and no others. One thing is this. Certain men in battle will have the blood lust overtake them. You know the stories of Cuchulain of Ulster, Percival with the Grail and especially King Arthur with his champion Lancelot.”

  “Yes, father but everyone knows they are only myths and legends, passed down as children’s stories and fairy tales.”

  “No son, they are not. The blood lust is real, it is a wild, violent insanity that overtakes some men in battle. It is only brought on by intense excitement and anger and it does not end until every ounce of the blood lust has been sated. With Luke it is a different thing, it is an innate part of his being. I have given it much thought and have come to this conclusion. As is the spirit of God born in Luke Wynnewood so is the wrath of God. It is not an insanity with him it is an instinct. Philburt, you must learn to judge men by the rightness of their actions and not merely by appearances alone.”

  Looking pensively at his father, “I have much to learn. I am sorry that my actions in the past months were not as they should have been. I have not done well, but I have tried. I did not know about what had happened at the battle of the City of Jerusalem only that the Turks had won. All that ever reached us was a story of defeat and surrender and disgraced knights.”

  “Now you know the truth, take it to heart. I have things to be regretful for during these last months as well. Together we will do better. We must do this so that our family and property survive and the people who are dependent upon us will not perish.”

  Philburt emptied the leather pouch taken from Neeley, poured it on his father’s desk and said, “After everything that has happened today it distinctly appears that Lord Alexander is plotting against us. These coins are Frankish gold.”

  “Gold you say; then all the recent incidents would seem to point that out. God knows he has enough cause.”

  “What cause could he possibly have?”

  “He means to take Enarrah, this castle and all our lands; by force if necessary.”

  At the mention of Enarrah, Philburt looks totally bewildered. “What could Alexander want with our little unassuming country cousin?”

  “She is anything but that. A perfect example of things not being what they seem. She is wise in the ways of healing, has a great intuitiveness for what is in the hearts of men and is your grandmother’s mirror image. By royal proclamation your grandmother, Alicia of Elleghane was deeded these lands. Upon her death she ceded this castle and all of these lands to her oldest daughter Pauline, Enarrah’s mother. When Pauline died giving birth to Enarrah, the deedship went to your mother. When she passed away that left Enarrah as the only female heir.

  Because Enarrah’s father was taken by plague when she was still a babe the trusteeship of Elleghane was left to me and I have kept that trust close and quiet for these many a long year. To put it plainly son, this castle and all of Elleghane are to be Enarrah’s when she reaches the age of five and twenty or is suitably married. I thought that your mother would have told both you and Enarrah of all of this, but alas, she never got the chance, so I’m telling you now.

  “Then Enarrah has no knowledge of this either?”

  “Exactly so, but she will soon be told, soon; that is my task, so not a word Philburt.”

  “As you say father, you have my word on it. A great deal has happened since the Black and White Knight arrived here and I have much to think upon.”

  “Indeed. A very busy time for my first day of life renewed. Just between we two I grow tired and I must yet see this man that Ivar has brought. Keep ever alert son, we will break our fast in the great hall after sunrise.”

  Philburt turned to leave and said, “Father, please don’t think to harshly of me, for today I used mother’s family name as the lord here.”

  William dismisses this with a wave of his hand saying, “Posh and bother lad, posh and bother. Your mother’s family name is as fine as it ever was. She would have been proud of the tribute you gave by using it.”

  Philburt leaves and Sir William Northerlund thinks to himself, “little did you know laddie that after half a century this will again be The Lands of Elleghane, for a fact and not just in words.”

  William walked to his antechamber door, thinking that he must tell Enarrah on the morrow of her true position. As he muses to himself he opens the door and bids the man to enter. He turns and walks back to his desk, sitting down he takes the prepared tisane to hand . As he drinks and looks up at the man standing before him he exclaims, “I know you.”

  “Yes you do, Sir William, I am Robert Verregon. I fought with you and Luke in Jerusalem.”

  “Ye
s! I remember, you were the castle guard and were made a knight before the great battle.”

  Myself and many others, it was a most incredible event. I have been a guard here for these many months. I spoke with Sir Luke before he left, he bade me help secure the castle and watch over his Pages. I tried to tell him of your presence here but he was in such haste to depart, there was no time.”

  Sir William extends his arm and Robert takes it and bows.

  “Just like him, he is away to gather intelligence no doubt. All to the good, and your presence here Sir Robert could not have come at a more opportune time. Your courage and dedication to the Old Code are gratefully accepted. I will personally look over the well being of Heatherlyn’s lads, and Philburt has taken our security to his heart; for I have another task for you.”

  “Pray tell, Sir William.”

  “Do you have your vestments and a worthy battle sword?”

  “I do for a fact, they are safe here within the castle.”

  “Good, I bid you wear them from this day forth. Tomorrow, with all haste, I wish you to officially escort Randolph and six worthy guards to the king’s legate in Edinburgh. Randolph will have in his possession letters of vital importance to us all and he will be returning with documents of equal import.”

  Robert nods his head, “It is an honor to be in your service, and thank you for your concern of Heatherlyn’s boys, they are dear to me.”

  “Good, very good Robert. Randolph is a capable enough fighter and his weaponry ability is superior but he lacks the skills of battle. I am confident that you will get him there and back safely.”

  William produces a leather pouch from his desk saying, “Here is the coin you will need for your journey. A quarter of its’ contents are yours. Henceforth you will be paid as the knight you are. Now, Sir Robert I bid you go and prepare and I will retire for the day.”

  “As you say Sir William, Good Night.”

  As Robert leaves and the door closes a shadowy figure appears from a dark corner of the room. “Come Sir William, to bed.”

  “Ah, Bertrand, ever the vigilant one. Between your gentle chiding, Enarrah’s tonics and the reappearance of my comrade Luke I am nearly whole again, but in truth I am sorely weary old friend. Thank you for all your help and support these many long years.”

  As Bertrand helps his Lordship to prepare for bed Sir William asks, “What do you think of all these goings-on?”

  “Me, Sir William? I believe a maelstrom of change follows in the wake of young Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco. Son Philburt has gained years of wisdom in these past hours and sweet Enarrah will very nicely fulfill her destiny as Lady of Elleghane. And to top it off Sir Robert the Good may well find his future in the castle kitchen. Now sleep for you Sir William.”

  Feeling the effects of the tonic William eases into bed and Bertrand pulls the coverlet upon him. “Bertrand, your precise evaluations never cease to amaze me. Robert the Good you say. How came he by that moniker?”

  ”Twas Heatherlyn’s twins, Broox and Ashe, gave him that name. The entire castle knows him by it, and from all I have seen he has lived up to it. Good sleep my lord.”

  Reconnoiter And Recollection

  Enarrah felt the coins against her leg beneath the folds of her skirt as she walked towards the kitchen, it was a small fortune. She suddenly felt a wave of awareness wash through her, and she smiled. It was right then as she was passing by the guard’s dining room door, a familiar voice called to her.

  “Lady Enarrah?”

  Grinning now, she turned in the doorway, seeing Heatherlyn’s boys seated at the table. Instinctively picking the name of the twin that came into her head first, she said, “Yes Ashe, what can I do for you?” She was gratified to see the smile on Ashe’s face that she had chosen the correct twin.

  As if of one mind Broox immediately replied, “ Have you heard that we are Sir Luke’s Pages?”

  “As a matter of fact Sir William has just now officially accepted Sir Luke’s petitions for your new positions.”

  It was Ashe’s turn as he shouted, “Ma! It’s ‘fficial, We’re Pages for Sir Luke and Shahjeen.”

  Enarrah watched in fascination as the two brothers shook each others’ hands, slapped each other on the shoulder and ran to their mother in the kitchen. Broox, who had looked frailer in the past, already looked hardier. His complexion had returned to a natural ruddiness and by evidence of the large empty bowl in front of him, his appetite had improved. He would be getting his health back in no time (thanks to Luke).

  It was astounding to her that the harsh and violent acts that this knight had committed in dealing with evil men had, of themselves, produced such good results. Not the least of which was that she herself was still alive. Amazing too was Sir William’s open affection for this curious man who wore black and white. The Ghost, Sir William called him; he who dispensed justice by his own inborn sense of good and evil. She kept remembering his rippling muscles, his lithe and graceful presence and she couldn’t help it, her heart longed to see him.

  Heatherlyn’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she heard the cook say, “You boys have had a long day, time for bed!”

  “Heatherlyn, I have already starting gathering their clothes together, as befits their new station, all properly paid for by Sir Luke. Jenny says that she has had so little mending to do lately that she will gladly sew the boy’s colors tonight.”

  “Wonderful Enarrah, and Gavin told me he had been paid well to make the lads’ boots and leathers, for the next three years no less! And the knight did this within the first minutes he entered the castle.”

  Broox chimed in, “Aww, Ma, can’t we stay up to see our new clothes?”

  “No you may not, come give me a kiss goodnight and it’s off to bed with the two of you, right now, straightaway. I’ll be in to say your prayers with you shortly.”

  The twins hugged there mother tightly, gave her a kiss on the cheek and scampered off.

  “Heatherlyn, Sir William, the family and all the castle will be breaking fast at first light.”

  “Very good my Lady. He’ll be making his proud and decent presence known to one and all then. That ‘ll stop these incessant wagging tongues I’ve had to contend with all the many months.”

  “Yes, yes it surely will. Heatherlyn, have you had any word about your husband John?”

  “No My Lady, I have not. I seek news of anyone who might have information from over there and have not heard a thing about the fate of my husband. So much time has passed that I fear his sons have all but forgotten him.”

  “Be of good heart and we will pray that news will come soon.”

  “I will do that and my prayers will include a multitude of thanks for the many blessings I have received this day and all of them at the hand of Sir Luke Wynnewood. He is the most extraordinary man I have ever seen.”

  Feeling a flush come to her cheeks Enarrah said, “Yes, yes he is isn’t he? There has been more of a blessing than you already know.”

  “How so?”

  “I did not really want to tell you Heatherlyn, but if I do not, you will hear of it nonetheless. Neeley the stableman was also a spy for Alexander of Kraigsleigh.”

  Heatherlyn’s intact of breath was plainly audible and Enarrah continued on.

  “But I have given it much thought and I do not think there is anything known to him about you and the twins. If there was, I believe there would have been a sign before now, and since Neeley is gone for good there is little chance of it.”

  “The creases across her forehead reflected the older woman’s worry as she said, “I pray you are right Enarrah, with all my heart I pray that you are right.”

  Taking Heatherlyn’s hand into hers’, Enarrah said, “The best news of all is that Sir William assured me Sir Luke will soon return and all things here will then be set aright. In truth, to you alone my friend, I long for his return.”

  “I will take that to heart, and thank you for the tel
ling, I would not have wanted to hear it in gossip. And I am glad you have that longing in you for Sir Luke, for truly, save for my John, I have seen no better man. Now I must go settle my sons and find my own bed. It will be a busy day tomorrow, you had best do the same dear Lady, goodnight.”

  +++++

  Shafterly strode across the great hall kicking refuse and rotten rushes from his path. He felt miserable. He never should have gotten himself tangled up in such a far fetched scheme. Grasping at straws, he thought perhaps some significant gain might still be made from his shaky alliance with this grotesque man, greater wealth perhaps. At one point he had thought that if all else failed he would find out where Alexander kept his hoard of gold, kill the thoroughly fixated man and go home to the continent. However, he had discounted this particular option after catching a glimpse of Alexander’s true nature.

  Stores from the winter supplies had gone missing and the newly hired guard turned thief had been caught red handed. On his lordship’s orders the man had been brought to the great hall bound tight. Alexander walked into the vast room wearing his ever present floor length black cloak. It accentuated the strange man’s great height in a macabre and sinister way. In the previous months Shafterly had never even seen the extent of the weaponry the man carried.

  He would never forget what he saw that day and was sure that it had been Alexander’s intent that he nor any man in his hire should ever forget. The lord had strode to within three long paces of the helpless thief, slowly turned his back to the man and had removed that cloak, carefully placing it on a nearby trestle table. Dressed completely in black, that sword of great length hung in black leather. On his thin waist two daggers were strapped. A ruffled shirt rose up above the neck of his gambeson so that it appeared that his head was disembodied and perched in mid air with long jet black hair hanging down to his shoulders.

  It was then that the screaming started. Alexander used his sword as if it were an extension of his very being, precisely thrusting, cutting, jabbing; muscle, tendon, ligament and bone, but none of the man’s vital organs. After more than an hour of this, there was no thing the man ever knew that Alexander did not. And when he was satisfied of this, with one ferocious slash the black lord reduced what had once been a whole man into a pile of blood and gore.

  Alexander’s only comment to Shafterly had been at the end when he put on his cloak and stated, “Remove that.” As he walked away he kept muttering to himself over and over, “The hand, the hand.”

  The remains were carried from the hall in several sacks and thrown outside the walls by other guards. The word spread throughout Kraigsleigh Castle like wildfire, Lord Alexander was not to be crossed, in any way, or a horrible death awaited.

  Any plans that Erick Shafterly might have had involving the demise of Lord Alexander by his own hand were summarily discounted, if the beast that he had witnessed was part human, there was no telling which part. And he certainly would not under any circumstances face this creature in a showdown of single combat. As these dark thoughts whirled in his mind, they were interrupted by Alexander’s irritating voice demanding what new information he had about Strathenham.

  Putting his temper in check, Shafterly answered, “The four men I sent out two days ago to watch the castle and the village still have not returned. The talk of the village still resounds with the echoes of Neeley’s death. The warrior has not been see, or if he has, no one will say.”

  As he spoke, Shafterly could see the veins in Alexander’s neck bulge and his face turn red with anger. He screeched when he commanded, “Then send out more men, now!”

 

  Folding his hands Shafterly said, “I fear sending out more men will result in their disappearance as well. What we really need is information from inside the castle. First hand knowledge of where the girl is and how we can lay hands on her.”

 

  At the mention of the girl, Alexander seemed slightly appeased, agreeing, “Yes, I will have her. I will bend her to my will.”

 

  “What if she does not bend?”

 

  As his sword hand rested upon his cheek an evil smile crossed his face. In a hoarse guttural whisper he promised, “Then she will break. In either case, Elleghane will be mine. As for your inside information, you will pay a visit to extend my condolences concerning the illness of William Northerlund.”

 

  Shafterly looked up with reassurance, agreeing, “What a good idea. Do you wish me to escort you to Strathenham?”

  “No, I do not. Let my presence here remain a mystery the better to confound them, I will revel myself in my own good time.”

 

  Shafterly bit back a retort and said, “Yes, Lord Alexander. As you will.”

  Alexander reached inside his huge cloak and flung a heavily laden pouch towards his captain. Shafterly caught it as the lord commanded, “Hire more men. Get me information.”

  Shafterly turned away, weighing the pouch in his hand. He thought to himself, “This man pinches pennies on firewood and servants but has pounds of gold to spend on armed men.” He hefted the pouch one last time and walked away.

  +++++

  A short time after he left, Luke turned his mount to the East and began a slow route around the entire area. He spent the next several hours studying the terrain and watching for signs of activity. The night was chill and full of stars. The half moon shone brightly as he emerged from the thick forest that everyone in the castle called the Darks. His only inclination that anyone else was about in the night were several long low howls from a wolf pack far off. As he approached the sweeping meadows and glens that led up to the high peaks of the mountains to the north he became aware of several marshes and bogs in this area. As Shahjeen walked beside him instead of behind him, the smart animal kept the two of them on solid ground. He had known the horse could do this from his sojourns in the deserts, where seeps existed among the dunes that could swallow man and horse in a matter of seconds.

  His mind wandered back to those other times. He remembered his friends and his comrades who had fought with him and some who had died. He sent up a small prayer to the almighty for finding Robert Verragon. He realized that the night was half over and how hungry he was and decided to stop in a small glen surrounded by odd shaped stones.

  He remembered the stories from his youth that described fey and faerie rings looking such as this. It was then that the thoughts of Enarrah came to his mind again. She was a striking beauty and her inner beauty shone more brightly than any woman he had ever seen. He caught himself musing that somehow his memories of the little folk and spirit mists had led him to think about Enarrah. Perhaps that was the quality that he needed to label about her. She seemed magical. She seemed part of a greater fineness and goodness than just of this world.

  He was hungry. He reached into the sack tied to his saddle and was surprised to find a second bundle wrapped in linen. He set it down beside him as he rested on one of the flat stones and unwrapped it. Inside he found small loaves of fresh bread, wedges of cheese, and wrapped in their own linen, three of cooks meat pies. This bundle was from Heatherlyn and had been put in with his gear by the twins.

  The spot where he sat was positioned at the top of a sloping valley. He realized that he could smell the salt breeze from the sea, miles away. He liked the smell and the feel of this entire place. As he ate he wondered if this was somewhere he could call home. The land of his fathers on the far away continent that he knew as a boy, were like this place in some ways. The deep dark forest, the rolling hills and the craggy mountains in the distance. But his parents were gone. Being one of the younger of six brothers he doubted if he would ever see his homeland again. Although, not unkind his older siblings had treated him somewhat with disdain because he had been their mother’s favorite.

  As soon as he was of age, he was fostered out to a fortified keep lorded over by an acquaintance of his fathers, Lord Reichsburg. In the space a a few shor
t years the man had proven himself insufferable by forcing his drunken rages upon family and servants alike.

  Luke had to leave, and a greater purpose called to him. So acting on the feelings in his heart he left for the Crusades. It had taken him several years just to travel the distance. Along the way he had found his natural skills as a swordsman and grown into manhood. His being made a knight by the King of Jerusalem was the culmination of his search for his own identity.

  He re-wrapped the remainder of his traveling fare and was preparing to mount when Shahjeen’s uneasiness encroached on his memories. His rambling thoughts were replaced by a keen attentiveness as he stood stroking the big horses neck. He watched as Shahjeen’s ears pricked up and he looked toward the west. Luke turned his gaze in that direction to see four riders a mile away dropping over the edge of a crag headed down into the valley. He took his horses' reins and strode the hundred or so paces to the apex where the valley met the top of the ridge.

  When he reached the chosen spot, he left Shahjeen well back, so as not to be back lit from by the moon. He crept towards the edge.

  Shahjeen stood waiting. From their first days together he had never tied the horse or reined him. With his reins hung over his neck the wise animal knew what was expected and never disappointed.

  By the time Luke crept to the edge of the yawning valley, he was laying flat on his stomach. He watched and waited. After a few minutes his diligence was rewarded. The four riders came up the center of the valley. Stealth was not called for here. Luke walked back to his horse and mounted, then rode Shahjeen toward where the men would be approaching. He pulled his great grey cloak around himself to ward off the chill and did not have long to wait before the four riders crested the ridge. As the grey upon grey of the cloak and the horse melded with the earth and the sky the riders were only three paces away, talking, as they came upon him.

  Luke sat waiting. From their horses, their dress, the direction from which they came, there was no doubt these were Alltimont’s men. The direct line that they headed was towards Strathenham and left little doubt as to their ill intent.

  Reining up and shifting their horses in circles, one of the men brought his mount under control and exclaimed. “What then is this, a specter?”

  Luke and Shahjeen stood perfectly still.

  “No, ‘tis a statue, a resemblance.”

  Another man, getting his horse under control exclaimed, “It is, it is a ghost.” In saying this the man drew his sword, the others following suit.

  The solid base timbre of Luke’s voice cut through the eerie darkness.

  “I have been called The Ghost, and here I walk.”

  Luke chose that moment to furl his cloak from around his torso.

  At seeing the stark white cross blazoned on the field of black and white, the men exclaimed, “It’s him, kill him.” They spurred their horses forward.

  Before their horses could take one step both swords lept into Luke’s hands. He tightened his legs around Shahjeen’s girth and as the evil doers approached, Shahjeen reared up and caught the lead horse full in the head with his deadly hooves. As the stricken horse fell to the side, it toppled into the animal next to it and both riders and horses were flung to the ground.

  As the next killer, still on horseback, slashed out with sword passing by; Luke’s swords flashed. One parrying the death stroke aimed at his head, the other cutting through the middle of the man from his navel to his spine. As the cut man’s horse came to an abrupt halt, the surprised henchman wiggle wobbled in the saddle, looked down at himself and fell to the ground dead.

  As Luke had struck this first parry and blow, he dismounted and walked to the two killers to his left who had fallen from their horses. One was on his feet swinging a battle axe on the down-stroke at Luke. To the man’s surprise and instant death, Luke’s short sword ran up under the attacker’s chin and into his brain. The leather girded man was shoved to the ground in this manner as Luke dislodged the short sword and turned to parry a blow from the other would be killer.

  The man’s attack was unprepared and feeble and before he could recover Luke separated his head from his shoulders.

  The fourth man now facing Luke several paces away, bellowed his rage. “You killed my comrades, so be it, the price on your head will be all mine.”

  In saying this the man pulled a short spear from behind his saddle. He arched his arm back to throw, and as the spear was loosed, Luke’s swords whirled in the air and the spear fell to the ground in two pieces.

  This last henchman did not wait to see the result of his spear throw, he spurred his horse forward, sword drawn and arcing high in the air. An evil smile curled on his lips as he saw Luke’s Broadsword drop point first into the ground. Thinking himself the victor, he screamed a battle cry as his sword descended its arc. “Ayeeeeee!”

  As the point of his broadsword embedded in the ground Luke pirouetted in a complete circle. Before the last of the would be killers could finish his outcry Luke’s short sword sang through the air and found its target as it entered the man’s body just above his breastplate and continued on through, the point protruding just below the nape of the neck. The killer’s sword completed its path by arcing through the air.

  Under his breath Luke whispered, “May God grant you peace, because I will not.”

  Without a moments hesitation Luke reached up his Broadsword, strode to the mortally wounded horses and put them out of their misery. He spent the next several minutes rounding up the two remaining horses, the men’s weapons and armor. He tied all this to the gathered horses. He had thought to take the bodies to the small cave that he had come across on the North side of the castle a short time before. He retrieved his short sword but before he could implement his intent Shahjeen was beside him trumpeting a loud call.

  Not thirty paces away arrayed in a large semi-circle, their feral eyes glowing in the dark, was a pack of wolves. They were black as night and huge. Luke could see there were several females and yearlings at the back of the pack. The lead male, a full head taller than the rest, with accents of white in his fur stepped forward a few paces. Growling he bared huge fangs menacingly. Luke was nearly looking him eye to eye across the meadow.

  As he was want to do on occasion by his own volition and for no other reason than his own, Shahjeen braced one foreleg forward and bending the other foreleg, bowed his head. Taking his cue from the great horse, Luke slowly unsheathed his swords and slowly turned them in the air and held one in each hand by the fore grips, so that the pommels faced up and the sword points faced down. He put one leg in front of the other, bent his knee and bowed to the great wolf. He held the swords in front of him at arms length.

  The moments passed as if they were eons of time. Luke raised up his head to see every wolf calmly sitting. He and Shahjeen rose to their feet. Luke sheathed his swords and mounted his horse. He took one last look at the circle of wolves.

  The big white male looked intently at him and cocked his head as if to say, “Why do you stay? Your work is finished, leave now.”

  Luke turned his mount and thought to himself, “His will be done.”

 

  Neither man nor horse looked back. As they angled their journey toward the village of Castle Strathenham and back toward the Darks, the need for rest overcame them. Luke settled himself and his mount a couple of leagues from the village under some huge pines. He made himself a quick bed of some boughs and a blanket and laid down to rest the few hours before dawn.

  +++++

 

  It was a remembering dream at first. He was again the “guest” of Calif Jafar in the resplendent castle at the desert oasis. He was there at the insistence of the Calif, and his men. For having saved the man’s son from an assassination attempt he was lacking no luxury whatever. Fine food, clean clothes and an abundance of water and wine were his for the asking. Servants attended to his every whim, but he could not leave. That was made abundantly clear by the presence of
the Calif’s guards who were everywhere.

  Everywhere that is except when he per chanced to come upon the Calif’s daughter Jasmin, as she walked in her private garden. They had been alone and had talked openly, she of her world, he of his. He was to find out later, this was a death sentence for any Christian. But he was not just any Christian to the Caliph

  The blush of youth upon them both, their mutual attraction did not go unnoticed by the Calif and now the great leader had a terrible problem. He should have killed the Christian who had been alone with his daughter, but he could not kill the man that had saved his only son. So he did the next best thing, he sent his daughter away and he bestowed great gifts upon his son’s savior. These gifts were a magnificent grey Arabian stallion and a scimitar emblazoned, just past the hilt, with Holy Cross, Star of David and Crescent Moon. He then freed this man, this brash young knight, and bade him never to return.

  Luke Wynnewood returned to Jerusalem to the disbelief and amazement of everyone. Everyone that is except the King, who, in private audience told Luke of the fierce Code of Respect practiced by men of quality, one for the other. This Code breached all boundaries, even those between enemies. Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco never forgot this talk with the king nor did he ever forget The Code of Respect.

  Then Luke’s mind and spirit wandered from memory into darkness. A darkness thick with whorls of mist and the lush scent of forest and earth. Standing there, in the heart of that darkness, as it had many times before during his travels in sleep, stood a huge lion.

  The great cat stood watching him, just standing and watching. From the look of his massive chest his breathing was slow and easy. The animal was enormous. The top of his shaggy mane was as tall as a man. It looked as if he might weigh a hundred stone. But it was the eyes, always the eyes. The red fire watching him, ever watching him from the dark.

  Luke stood resolute, not knowing what to say or do. The great beast shook his shaggy mane, as if it was expecting something.

  +++++

  With a pounding heart Luke awoke. He was full alert, it was not the dream that had awakened him. He stilled his racing heart and his senses became more aware. Shahjeen stood stock still next to him where he lay. His breathing was just audible. The horse let out a long breath and Luke opened his eyes to slits. Seeing his master awake the steed moved away several paces.

  It was then that Luke heard the whispering voices and the movement through the trees. There were two of them, attempting to move quiet but making a poor job of it. Luke concentrated on hearing the words.

  “That’s ‘im ain’t it? ‘ees lying ‘ere, ripe for the pickin’.”

 

  “’Ats ‘im awright, can’t mistake ‘em colors. ‘Is ‘orse is just lazin’ about. Alls we ‘ave to do is sneak round an stick ‘im an take ‘is foin mount for me own.”

 

  “Yea, what luck ‘at. E’ll save our bacon, ‘e will. We was in for it comin’ back from the village wit no news from the folk there as to when ‘at little tart was goin’ to be back there to do her healin’ and such.”

  As the two assassins moved in from behind him, Luke could tell by their slurred speech and noisy behavior that the two had been in their drink. As was his custom as he slept, he had laid both swords by the sides of him, and they were covered. As the men moved to attack him from behind, his hands being out of sight, his fingers slowly grasped both hilts. The men prattled on.

  “We’ll be in ‘is ‘igh an mighty dibs good graces for a long time to come. Well as fattening our purses by 10 pieces of silver, bringin’ back his ‘ead.”

 

  “’Ere you takin’ ‘im or an I?”

  “We both better. They say ‘e took out six o’ our men all by ‘imself. It’s a pity we couldna’ snatched the little Missy on one a' 'er village forays and got ‘im too.”

 

  “Yea, but this ‘il do for now and don’t fergit, the ‘orse is mine.”

  “Lets get ‘im.”

 

  From all their talk, Luke knew exactly where they were. With no stealth their footfalls approached and he could feel the distance between them lessening.

  Just as one of them whispered, “Now;” in a blur of movement Luke rolled and both swords shot upward. Both men were struck straight in their hearts. Their crooked shaped daggers fell from their hands. Luke jumped to his feet, retrieved and re-sheathed his swords. He found their horses a short way away, secured their weapons and usable armaments. He now had five horses and the weapons and gear from six men. He would deal with the disposition of the horses and gear in the light of day. He pulled the bodies under an overhang of the dry creek bank nearby and caved the outcrop over them, the dirt and sand burying them. As he laid back down to rest the last little while before daybreak his thought was that he must return to the castle that very day to forewarn them of Alexander’s vicious plans. The rival lord would no doubt not take to losing a baker's dozen of his men in a single day.

  And he must get back to protect Enarrah... sweet Enarrah... his Enarrah...

  Breaking Fast

  The great hall was rift with murmuring and whispers. Serving girls and lads were scurrying between the tables setting out platters of fresh bread, cheese and fruit as well as flagons of ale and warm wine.

  “Is it true? Is it really true? Sir William is up and about?” asked one girl excitedly.

  Another answered, “He is, I have the word of Jenny the Seamstress on it. She made Sir Luke’s Pages their colors last night and showed them to the lord this morn’. She said he bustles about, hale and hearty. And that’s not all, Jenny’s to pick as many new sewing girls as she needs to accomplish the new banners and vestments that Lord William wants made straight away.”

  In her modest chamber Enarrah fussed with her hair in the looking glass. Mairi and Elsbeth had just left to take their places in the great hall. They had helped her put on her best dress of dark blue linen, adorned with white lace at the neck and sleeves. Her bodice felt tight against her bosom and she attributed this to the flood of anticipation that whirled inside her. In a single day her life had undergone one incredible incident after another. She pulled the pins from her hair, shook her head from side to side, and let the tresses fall about her shoulders. Taking one last look in the mirror she smiled at what she saw, nodded at herself once in agreement and thought she might just as well be ready for many more wonders to come this very day! She straightened her skirts one last time and headed for the door.

  It was Heatherlyn the Healer when needed; it was Heatherlyn the mother of twins (and now the mother of Pages as well) around the clock; it was Lady Heatherlyn in secret (hopefully) and right now it was Heatherlyn the Stewardess and Cook! She bustled through the kitchen, directing the cooks and the helpers with a myriad of details; all of which she neatly had well in hand. She was after all Heatherlyn, the one of wonder. She was determined that the first grand meal to be held in Strathenham Castle in nearly a year would be a resounding success.

 

  She stopped and sat down for one minute to catch her breath and to insure not the smallest detail had been overlooked.

  In a rush of unbridled excitement her sons burst into the kitchen,“Ma you got to come look!” they both exclaimed, their faces bursting with smiles.

  Not a little irritated, but careful to hold back an even sterner voice of reproach; she stood up, put hands to her hips and said, “I told both of you how busy I’d be this morning and so far you two have been good lads. Now what is it you’re up to!?”

  Grabbing at their mother’s hands and attempting to pull her towards the great hall they both said in unison, “Come quick Ma, out in the hall!”

  “Be off with ya’ you two little rapscallions, it’s nearly time to eat.”

  “But Ma, ya’ gotta come look, it’s Robert the Good!”

  At the mention of Robert, she turns her full attention to her sons. “Why what do you mean? I’ve seen Robert before
.”

  “No, no ya’ haven’t, not like this Ma, he’s all decked out, sword and everything!”

  A little confused, she takes a step with the boys who have not loosed her hands and says, “There’s nothing strange in that, many a time have I seen Robert with his sword.”

  Broox cocks his head with a wry smile and says, “No Ma, not like this one you haven’t!”

  Her curiosity peaked, Heatherlyn strode through the short entryway to the great room. She surveys the scene, it is a scene of suppressed excitement with the very air itself full of expectant energy.

  The boys standing at her side, point across the room to the dais. She glances that way and sees what is without a doubt a knight, his back towards her, talking with the lords’ sons as they stand behind the table on the dais.

  She says to the boys, “Oh very well and good, we have another knight here,” and turns away.

  Broox grabs his mother’s hand, points and says “Momma, look;” and at this Ashe puts two fingers to his mouth, purses his lips and his short shrill whistle is heard throughout the hall.

  Knowing that whistle all too well Sir Robert Verregon turns with a smile as Ashe ardently waves.

  Heatherlyn is struck dumb. She meets the eyes of her friend who had been nothing more than a soldier. She sees standing before her a knight resplendent, wearing a tunic emblazoned with a huge blue cross and small blue fleur de lis surrounded by green wreaths embroidered with silver.

  She feels a flush come to her face and she is light headed as his eyes meet hers. He gives her a smile and the briefest of nods then turns back to speak with the brothers. She turns back toward the kitchen, a tear falling down her cheek.

  Watching his mother Ashe says, “What is it momma? Why are you crying?”

  She wipes away the tear and composes herself saying, “Its nothing my little laddie, its nothing at all,” and says in a whisper, “he’s just such a good man. And now to see him as I always had pictured he might be. Come quick you two, time to take your places.”

  Each twin is dressed with a doublet that is a page-size version of the Black and White Knights colors. A black field rampant, cornered with squares of white. A white cross over all, with smaller crosses in each corner, front and back. The boys proudly walked toward their table to be seated near the dais.

  Randolph says to Sir Robert, “You seem to have admirers. And to think that it was only this morning that Ivar told the three of us that we have another knight in our midst.”

  Sir Robert answers, “For a while I didn’t even know those good lads were here. Neeley kept them in the stables. It was only of late that I came to find out that they were being beaten by him who has now met his just rewards. Truth be told the day the Black and White Knight dispatched him with such justice I was seeking Neeley for the same purpose.”

  The three brothers were hushed. Philburt looked into the eyes of his younger brothers. Thomas, into his teens, couldn’t help himself and he asked, “You would have killed him?”

  Sir Robert Verregon of Rangeley looked with intense dark eyes at the youth, and said, “It would have depended upon his actions when confronted, just as they did with The Black and White Knight.”

  Randolph says, “You speak of him as if you know him, this Sir Luke.”

  “Aye, that I do.”

  As one, the three brothers caught their breath. A few precious moments go by and smiling Sir Robert says. “However, that is a story for your father to tell and I’ll not steal his thunder from it.”

  Enarrah comes upon the four men, there are smiles all around. Randolph and Thomas say their good mornings almost in unison. Philburt pauses and smiling broader greets Enarrah, “It is very good to see you this morning my Lady.”

  Enarrah is surprised and joyous all at once. Without thinking she extends her hand toward Philburt and thinks to herself, ‘he has never so honored me before.’

  Philburt, in a natural gesture clasps Enarrah’s hand between his two big calloused ones. Their eyes meet and two words like a whispered song escape her lips. “Thank you.”

  Warmth showing in his eyes Philbert replies “No sweet Lady Enarrah, it is I who thank you.”

  Still smiling he releases her hand, placing one of his on Sir Robert’s shoulder, and eloquently continues. “I don’t know that you have been formally introduced to our Sir Robert. Lady Enarrah of Elleghane may I present Sir Robert Verregon.”

 

  “I know of Sir Robert the Good very well, thank you Philburt”

  “He is guardian of the flame, keeper of the faith and friend to Strathenham. Sir Robert, Lady Enarrah.”

  From bended knee Robert rises saying, “My sword will defend this place and all who reside here. This, I have sworn to Sir William and so swear to his sons and to you dear Lady.”

  Enarrah’s velvet skirt brushes the floor as she rises. “It is an honor to meet you Sir Knight.”

  Randolph catches Enarrah’s glance and says. “Sir Robert and Sir Luke are well acquainted.

  A look of excitement moves across Enarrah’s face. As she is about to speak as a sudden hush comes over the room. They turn in unison to see Sir William standing behind them. He smiles as the four part and stand two each side of him. The room comes to their feet. William steps forward and the family move to their places at the table; Philburt, Enarrah, Father Dunkin and Bertrand to his right; and, Randolph, Thomas, Sir Robert and Captain Ivar to his left.

  A strong and steady voice reaches to every corner, “Greetings to you one and all. I give thanks to you all for aiding in my recovery. All of you, even to the lowest stable boy, have shown your support of Strathenham by helping my sons and your Lady keep, hold and safeguard this place. You have made me proud to call this place my home. There is much you need to know and some you already do. Speaking of stable boys, where are those two new pages?”

  Surrounded by the big guardsmen, the boys raise their hands and yell, “We’re here.”

  “Come up here lads, you sit up here with us.”

  Seeing the boys’ mother in the doorway he calls out, “Heatherlyn have your girls set the twins’ places here, one at each end.”

  Without hesitation the twins scamper up to the dais. Two of the castle boys get some chairs and the serving girls set their places at the head table.

  William continues: “What you already know is that these are the new pages of the Black and White Knight. What you do not know is his full name, it is Sir Luke Wynnewood of Lamasco. He is my cherished friend and he will be back here soon.”

  Murmurs echo through the room. Sir William’s hand had been resting on the table and at this last pronouncement Enarrah reaches for it and hangs on.

  “Most of you know this man seated here as Robert the Good. He is in truth Sir Robert Verregon of Rangeley and he has been a respected guard here. Now he is the valiant knight that he ever has been and has sworn his allegiance to Elleghane, Castle Strathenham and all its’ people.”

  Smiles had been contagious throughout the great hall during Sir William’s discourse. Nearly as one the people gathered there sent up a cheer of exaltation. William raises his hands and once again a hush falls over the great room. “This home of ours is under threat from outside forces. I shall count on all of you to continue to do your best to help preserve our hearth and home. Good Father the benediction if you please.”

  Father Dunkin rises from his chair, “Let us bow our heads; thank you dear Lord for this day and keeping all of us safe and healthy. Please continue to guide us in your way of truth and decency. Bless this food of which we are to partake. Amen.”

  “Amen” is echoed around the room.

  As the first sharp brilliant rays of the dawn cascade through the windows into the hall. Sir William flings wide his arms and proclaims, “Let us eat.”

  The assembly was seated, the meal was both hearty and heart warming.

  +++++

  The guardsmen and castle folk finished their meal and went about their tasks of the
day. The men at the head table discussed the upcoming trip.

  To Enarrah it was mostly a blur of smiles, pleasantry and good fellowship. She did remember the twins, Broox and Ashe scampering back and forth from one end of the table to the other until they finally settled together with Sir Robert. Sir Luke Wynnewood filled her mind...

  The twins lead out the two mounts for Randolph and Sir Robert. Last minute preparations were finished and Sir Robert stood for a moment with his thoughts to himself, his mind far ahead on the road before them.

  It was just then that he overheard voices of the twins.

  “I liked Mum talking about Da’ last evenin'.”

  “Yea, said Ashe. “It makes her feel good to talk about him.”

  “Yea, said Broox as he launched into an imitation of his mothers brogue. “Aye lads, your Da’, Johno, had a heart as big as the world, and as much good and decency in ‘im as any knight. He is truly a fine and decent man.”

  The rest of the conversation escaped Robert. There had only been one man he had ever known in his life that had gone by the name of Johno... Upon Luke’s return there would be even more to talk with Wynnewood about.

  +++++

  Enarrah had a full and busy day ahead of her. With purpose she straightened herself as the men left the table, determined to make great accomplishments that day. She resolutely attempted to put the name of Sir Luke out of her mind. Even though she told herself this, she had felt his name lingering near the pillars of her heart. She stood rersolute, knowing that her first task was to straighten the great hall and to open the twenty rooms in the West wing of the castle, as Sir William had bade her to do as he left the room.

  She looked up to see Heatherlyn standing in the doorway across the great hall. She walked over intending to help with the assignments of clean up duties. But as she approached Heatherlyn the words that came out were not what she thought she would say. “Dear teacher I am so confused.”

  “With all the action and activity a little confusion is to be expected my Lady.”

  “Oh, bother... its not that. Oh, I don’t know what it is.”

  “Might it be havin’ somethin’ to do with a certain knight who wears the colors of black and white would it?”

  Enarrah’s eyes flashed to her longtime friend and mentor. She leaned close as she said:

  “I have feelings in me that I have never felt before, whenever that man is near, whenever his name is mentioned or whenever I think of him. My feelings race inside me like bees around a hive in spring.”

  Heatherlyn looked introspective, trying to gather herself together. She had her own feelings to properly arrange. Although Sir Robert was a most incredible man, she knew full well that nothing would come of it other than their friendship. Her heart would always belong to her beloved Johno.

  Her gaze softened and her eyes sparkled, as Enarrah awaited an answer.

  “While now is not the time or place to have such a discussion, dear Lady. Think on this ‘till we can talk again. The days of you as a girl are done. The blush of womanhood is full and well upon you .”

  Enarrah had felt the truth of that all right and now she understood as well that all the matriarchs before her had truly been entrusted with the sanctity of the earth. It all seemed very complicated and very simple. In the depths of her heart and soul, Luke must be the one, her true and forever love.

  A Visitor of a Different Stripe

  The finishing touches were being put on the clean up of the great hall and preparations for the evening meal were being made. Enarrah nearly jumped when the guardsmen in the tower cried out, “Riders coming, they fly the banner of Kraigsleigh Castle.”

  Ivar’s booming voice could be heard, “Where away and how far?”

  “From the East, twelve riders, two longbow distance away.”

  “Keep alert.” On seeing Enarrah, he strode to her and said, “Go advise Sir William of our impending visitors. Hurry lass.”

  She saw the intensity in his eyes, and was away in a flurry of blue skirts.

  Ivar’s commanding voice could be heard again. “Chief guard to the front.”

  From the four corners of the land these were Britania's finest, seasoned loyal men from the four corners of the kingdom. One and all had sworn their allegiance to Elleghane.

  Fourteen men formed two perfect lines at the entrance to the portcullis. Before the gate and doors were opened, Ivar said to his men, “Look sharp, listen for my word, if there is trouble be prepared to defend.”

  The doors swung open as Captain Shafterly sat his steed at the gate.

  Ivar bowed his head ever so slightly in respect to his counterpart at the neighboring castle and with a flourish of grace said, “Welcome Captain. How may Castle Strathenham be of service?”

  Ivar had always attempted to find the good in any man, but he just could not find anything likable about Captain Shafterly. But Ivar had to give the man one credit, he never presented himself as anything other than what he was, a hired mercenary.

  Slightly unnerved from seeing the number of armed guardsmen, Shafterly just managed to keep his composure; “I am returning to Kraigsleigh on an errand for Lord Alexander and would ask water for my men and my horses.”

  Ivar made a quick movement of his hand and the huge portcullis began to rise. Just then Philburt descended the steps into the bailey. Shafterly saw his opportunity open to gain information, and called out, “Ah, the Lord of the castle comes to greet me.”

  Without missing a beat Philburt replied, “Yes, I believe he does.”

  Not quite getting it, Shafterly continued, “I would ask water for my men and horses and would ask to speak with you about your fathers condition. Mayhap a healer known to Lord Alexander can help...”

  At that particular moment a strong clear voice resonated from the top of the steps. “Captain Shafterly, how good of you to come. Feel free to ask of my health in person.”

  For several stunned moments Shafterly could not believe his eyes. He was told just days ago that this man was lying on his death bed and that the guardsmen here were slack and undisciplined. He caught himself up short.

  +++++

  Bertrand had taken his place three paces away from his liege lord. They had stood the test of time, being inseparable from more that ten years, except for Sir William’s time on Crusade. With the death of Lady Violet, Bertrand had been nearly as heartsick as Lord William. It was she who had found him in the village, a wanderer, lost and forgotten. He had been entreating others of food for small chores and sleeping in the open fields. It was she who brought him to Castle Strathenham and to the attention of Lord William.

  The two men had taken to each other and finding out that he could read, write and cipher, Lord William had put him to work looking after the accountings of the keep and its’ lands. They were small tasks at first: keeping an accurate count of cattle and livestock bought and sold as well as the same for the stores and supplies of the castle that were expended and replenished.

  As the months went by his responsibilities increased until in less than a year he was Seneschal of Castle Strathenham, trusted man of Lord William. It was the following year that Lord William learned of his other talents.

  Slight of stature and frail looking Bertrand had been the brunt of scorn and ridicule his entire life, he had no skill with swords or bows, axes or pikes but short blades were a different matter. From his youngest days he had practiced the handling of knives and daggers. His strong arms could deliver deadly accuracy at a distance of twenty paces or more.

  A year and a half into his tenure at Strathenham, Bertrand had been afield with Lord William to make an accurate count of a cattle herd some distance from the castle. They and a small group of guardsmen with them had come upon three reivers pushing a group of stolen cattle toward the moors and the frontier.

  Two of the robbers had been killed in the ensuing skirmish and the third disarmed and taken prisoner. Before the man could be restrained and in a single moment of
the guardsmen’s relaxed attention, the prisoner had launched an attack upon Sir William with a secreted dagger. Before the man’s killing blow could fall Bertrand had stopped the man dead in his tracks with a leaf bladed knife thrown from ten paces into the thief’s eye. From that day on where Sir William went, Bertrand was never far away, in particular if the lords’ guardsmen were not in immediate attendance.

  +++++

  Captain Shafterly extolled, “Why Sir William, how good it is to see you. I see you are recovered.”

  “Yes, completely. It is quite good to be seen actually. Would you and your men wish to rest and eat?”

  “No, slaking our thirst would do, thank you. Tell me how fares the Lady Enarrah? She is engaged elsewhere?”

  “Yes, in point of fact she is. I will leave you in the capable hands of my son Philburt and Captain Thorgoodson. You will excuse me as I have other matters to attend to.”

  Sir William turned now from his brief encounter with Lord Alexander’s Captain. Seeing Bertrand, William said, “Ahh, as ever, my Shadow is near, ensuring my safety.”

  “Lord William it is so good to have you back,” Bertrand said as he folded his cloak back around himself with skill, concealing the four leaf bladed knives and the two serpents tongues at his waist belt. The later two an erstwhile gift from young Randolph, the Weapons master.

  “Thank you for all the goodness you have brought to Strathenham and to me, good Bertrand, it’s good to be back;” and with that the friends smiled and parted company.

  Shafterly had just turned away from telling his men to make haste watering their horses and depart. It was then he saw two boys in black and white tunics.

  Ivar was watching as Shafterly walked his horse to the watering trough. The twins were there holding the reins of other horses.

  Shafterly asked, “And who are you two boys?”

  Without missing a beat the reply comes back. “I’m Ashe, he’s Broox.”

  Shafterly’s anger flared, “No you!!....” but he caught himself and softened. “I see,” he said, “The coat of arms you wear as pages are for whom?”

  Broox stands straight and puffs out his chest and says, “We are pages for the Black and White Knight.”

  Ivar steps to where the twins can see him but Shafterly cannot as the Kraigsleigh Captain asks, “Who is the Black and White Knight?”

  Ivar shakes his head and before Ashe can speak he elbows his brother in the ribs and says, “He is the great knight of this castle.”

  Still keeping an eye on Ivar, Broox sees the captain gesture with his hand to be away so Broox frowns and says, “Pardon, sir, we must tend to our duties.” He pulls Ashe away and they hurry in to the stable.

  Ivar turns aside just before Shafterly glances over his shoulder at the captain. Shafterly struggles to keep his rage in check. He gives orders to his men to depart. He turns to Philburt and says, through clenched teeth, “Thank the lord of the castle for his hospitality.”

  Philburt, never letting his eyes stray from Shafterly, said “I will relay your message good Captain.”

  The gates are closed and secured. Ivar releases the honor guard back to their duties, complimenting them as they go.

  Upon their departure, Philburt says, “So Ivar, I don’t believe I have ever seen anyone having such a difficult time hiding their surprise and irritation.”

  “Irritation I should guess, disguised rage more the like.”

  “I believe you are right, if you need me I will be with father.”

  The Covenant

  Luke dismounted from Shahjeen a short distance from the village. Standing in the cold morning air, he sees little movement. Even for a cold pre-winter day the place is overly quiet. It is this inactivity that causes him to stop before he enters the village. He whispers and bids Shahjeen to stay until he is needed. Shahjeen nuzzles his shoulder in understanding. Luke walks around and into the village. By the number of daub and waddle houses he estimates the size at near fifty souls.

  He steps between two houses and finds himself on the hard packed road leading through the village. A voice calls to him a short distance away. “A man with so sure a step must have a purpose.”

  Looking to his right Luke sees an elderly man bundled in well worn but serviceable clothing, sitting a short distance away. As he walks toward the older man, he speaks again, “Light footed, self assured and fearing no man.”

  As Luke approaches, the man’s turns his face him with colorless, sightless eyes. “You see many things that others with eyes only guess at,” Luke says, as he stops in front of the oldster.

  The old man chuckles, “You must be the knight that they search for.”

  “Who might you be and who might they be?”

  “My question first. Are you the knight of no colors, only the white and black of holy good and holy wrath?”

  Luke had never heard such a description of himself but could not deny its' accuracy. “Yes, that I am.”

  “Then you are the warrior who’s coming has been foretold.”

  “You speak in riddles. What are the answers to my questions?”

  “I, brave knight am Theodore Sinclaire, a name not spoken for many a long year; and they? They are the thugs of Alexander.”

  “Alexander, the lord at Kraigsleigh?”

  “Self appointed lord, he is the usurper who overpowered the good Lord Carleton. Alexander Alltimont sequesters himself away from the rest of the world the better to hide his dastardly personage,” Sinclaire said.

  “Were there two of the ruffians?”

  “Why, yes, they were here last eve, drinking the village dry and trying to bully answers out of us.”

  The man turned his head and pointed to an ugly purplish bruise covering the side of his face.

  “They left me with this remembrance of them. They were unmerciful, even though we had nothing to tell. Only from legend and until this moment, we knew nothing of you and we know not when the Lady Enarrah will visit us. She comes and goes as she pleases unless she is called here. Her healing skills are held with high regard here and abouts.”

  As he leans back against the house where he sits, Theodore says, “I am weary from the nights goings on and I must rest.”

  “Good Sinclaire, I can tell that you are learned and wise, so know this, the two men who terrorized this place will never return. I will make every effort to see that none of the rest of their band do either.”

  The old man’s head rested against the side of the small house, and he said. “I thought I smelled the scent of blood about you, but I could not tell for sure because of my recent knock to the head.”

  “It is as you say. They have already met their Maker. Can you tell me, is there a cart maker in this village?”

  “At the end of the lane, towards the pasture lands. He is a good and decent man, Orlando by name.”

  “Well and good then, now rest wise-one. When you are able, tell the rest of the folk here what I have said. Peace be with you.”

  Luke turned to walk back to his horse and heard the man exclaim. “Wait! Before you go may I touch your sword?”

  Luke detached the sword and scabbard at his side and reached it down to the mans hand. His fingers felt the weapon and he said, “No, the forte.”

  With his thumb Luke pushed the sword a few inches from its scabbard. The old mans fingers found the cross shot through the steel. He slowly retrieved his hand and a smile drew across his lips, “It’s true, The Covenant is true.”

  At that the old man drifted asleep with a smile upon his lips.

  As Luke walked the to the end of the lane, he was greeted by the early dawns light, full in the sky. In the windows and the doorways and the alleyways of the neatly kept ville he was greeted with shy smiles and waves. He tried to gesture, smile or wave to everyone in return. The words of Sinclaire, 'The Covenant' bring forth all too vivid memories of the recurring dream that has been with Luke since his youth...

  The cartman stood outside his corral. “How
may I help you Sir Knight?”

  “Orlando, I need some of your time for the completion of a task.”

  “You have but to command me Great Knight, he said with a bow.”

  Sir Luke returned the bow with a nod and taking two silver coins from his purse, he held them out. “Orlando, take this for proper payment for a job to be well done. Just outside the other end of the village, at the end of this lane, a short walk into the trees you will find a string of five horses. Several are laden with arms and gear. I would that you lead these animals to Strathenham and tell Captain Thorgoodson that the Black and White Knight sent them.”

  Orlando nodded his assent, saying, “Right now, Sir Knight,” then he turned and strode up the lane.

  Luke turned and looked up the lane into the village.

  The sides were lined with men, women and their children. They were all doing the same thing. The mothers and fathers were gesturing toward Luke, telling their sons and daughters in hushed and reverent tones of the legend that stood before them.

  “Always remember they urged, always, as long as you shall live; see and remember what the face of justice and truth looks like.”

  Luke waved his open hand high above his head in farewell. As he turned Shahjeen came up to his side and Luke deftly mounted his great steed, he waved one final time and rode into the forest.

  His first thought: “...must make an end to this ugly business and continue the king’s quest.”

  His next thoughts: '...thirteen evil men dead by his hand in less than a day, ambitious lords, kidnapping, murderous plans, haunting memories, legends, a great red-eyed lion, prophesy; and... Lady Enarrah'.

  Intrigue

  Erick Shafterly knew well that Lord Alexander would not take the news of his very short trip to Strathenham in good humor. He had better play-up the role of outraged

  underling lest Alexander’s wrath be turned upon him. As he and his men rode up to the Kraigsleigh gate a man sitting horseback was waiting.

  The Captain asked, “What is your business here?”

  “A message for Lord Alexander.”

  Alexander was slacking his great thirst as he stood waiting. He was surprised at the short length of time that Shafterly had been gone. It did not bode well that his Captain was back so soon. Just then the doors burst open. Captain Shafterly blew into the room like the devil’s own wind. Emitting a guttural roar, he stormed to the table, grabbed the flagon of ale and downed it. He slammed the empty mug onto the table, grabbed a second mug and downed half of that and set it hard onto the table.

  “Well? Report!” Alexander exclaimed.

  Reining himself in Shafterly stated, “I entered Strathenham fully expecting to find an invalid, near death; instead I found Lord Northerland hale and hearty. It was like seeing a specter from the mist. He greeted me himself, very polite and very arrogant. He was haughty and full of himself as were Philburt and that upstart Ivar. I thought to impress them with the ten armed men that I brought with me. Ha. Near twice that number were there on guard, on full guard and alert mind you, between myself and the great Lord William.” Shafterly knew he was treading a fine line, timing was everything here, to save perhaps his very life.

  The gravel in Alexander’s voice had turned to a growl, “Go on!”

  “Not only that, his men were wearing our men’s weapons and gear. His open ridicule was worse, your six horses were on display with his herd in the paddock. The wench was nowhere to be seen, busy with matters elsewhere I was told. It was a stinging insult and a direct affront to you my lord.”

 

  He watched as Alexander’s fists clinched and unclenched, and the veins in his neck protruded like purple cord ropes. The man was about to explore into one of his tirades. At this auspicious juncture, as he stared into Alexander’s anger filled eyes in a low and steady voice he said. “And there is news my lord.”

  Shafterly caught him on an inhale and he saw the look. A force of blue steel resolve and composure, washed over Alexander’s countenance. Three words came from his lips, in a rock hard whisper. “What is it?”

  “There is a messenger.”

  Alexander raised a single finger in front of his captain’s chest and said, “Gather your men and horses with provisions for several days and be prepared to ride hard. Where is the messenger?”

  “In the anteroom to your study, with one of our men.”

  Before Erick could finish, Alexander was striding away. In moments he was pushing through his study door. Without ceremony, he said, pointing to the messenger. “You come with me.” Pointing to the soldier he said, “You report to your Captain, now.”

  As the messenger followed Alexander into his main study, the lord turned and shut the door. The room was immense with a dozen or more brazers and torches burning from monolithic stone pillars. The centerpiece desk was massive. Parchments, books, maps, drawings, and sketches littered the expanse of it. A large drawing of Britannia was spread out on one ornate table separated by itself with braziers all about it.

  The lord strode forward to his desk. He pulled off his great coat threw it in a chair and opened a bottle of wine from the selection on the sideboard and poured it into a huge goblet. He drank it down, breathing deep and steady, accentuating his hard razor like appearance.

  “What message do you have?”

  The man stood straight, reached inside his doublet and removed a small rolled parchment and handed it over.

  Alexander took it and strode to the fireplace. He stood ten paces away, flooded in full light as tree branches burned in the hearth. He deftly broke the seal and read the contents. With his back to the messenger, he allowed a feral grin to spread across his face. He strode to a sconce and threw the note into the brazier and watched as it incinerated. He strode back to his desk and said, “Stand by the door.”

  He sat down at his desk, snatched a small piece of parchment and with quill and ink wrote but one word and two letters: “Yes, AA.” He rolled it, applied wax and seal, got up and walked toward the messenger. On the way past a stone pillar he stopped. He held the wax seal on the cold stone to harden the seal. He handed it to the messenger with one silver coin.

  “Tell Captain Shafterly that I sent you to get a fresh horse, return this message from whence you came.”

  Without a word the man concealed the small scroll and the coin on his person and left.

  Alexander strode to the map on its lone table. He gazed down. His own introspection calmed and soothed him. He had been in an angst since capturing this castle and that had consumed his waking thoughts. He was trying to figure a way to deal with Sir William Northerland, the Lord of Strathenham. As if by fate, he was given the means to destroy Northerlund, take the castle and have the girl; all handed to him on a solid plate of gold. He had put years of his life planning to some glorious end. Soon it would all be his. Soon all who had scorned and ridiculed him throughout his entire life would pay and pay dearly, some with their very lives. His fingers idly traced the outlines of the sections of Northern Britannia and Scotland, smiling like a boy with his first practice sword.

  He strode to the huge oak doors of his study and slammed the bolts into the locks. He then made his way into the dark recesses in the back of the large room. In a three walled corner his hands found the correct levers and catches. Soon he was descending stairways and hallways deep in the substructure of the old castle. From the treasure trove with chests of silver, gold and precious stones that he had been given for this task he secured two pouches containing one hundred pieces of gold and one hundred pieces of silver. Within minutes he had made his way back, unlocked the well-oiled bolts to his study, swung the door wide and was almost but not quite surprised to see his captain standing there.

  “This is what you will do Captain,” he explained, “Your men number two score. Leave me five good men, take the rest and find me as many more men who will follow my orders without question, as you can. Tell your men that for every such man that they f
ind, that new man will be given a gold coin. The man that recruits him will be given a silver coin. You have as short a time as possible. Our men are to receive their silver when they return to the castle. Here is one hundred gold pieces and here is a bag of silver to buy as many horses, arms and provisions as you can. If you are half as successful as I believe you will be, I will put twice the amount of all you see here into your hands upon your return. When I am finished, Strathenham will be mine!”

  As Alexander spoke, Shafterly became more and more alert and focused. He had escaped Alexander’s wrath, this time. He said with resolve, “All that you want, you shall have. We leave within the hour.”

  At that, he strode away.

  Love Promised

  Randolph saw little of Sir Robert the first day of their journey. They all had ridden hard and Robert lived up to his namesake by ranging through the forest, up the road and through the countryside, ever on the alert. He was often accompanied in these tasks by one or more of the guardsmen who were both scouts or trackers. After altering their course through most of the first day, on the morning of the second they returned to the main road.

  Since then, the traveling became easier and quicker. It was just mid-morning and the sun shone bright, warming the crisp late Autumn day. Sir Robert had finished a circuit of the road ahead and sidled his horse beside Randolph’s and they rode in silence for some minutes, side by side.

  Just as Randolph was going to breach the quiet between them one of the guardsmen galloped up, reined his horse beside Sir Robert and said as he pointed. “Look there Sir Knight, a rider pushing hard across the glen, about three long bow shots away, going norwest with an extra horse.”

  “Good eyes Harold, head up the road and scout our way for a short time and return;” Robert said as he watched the rider in the distance.

  The observant guardsman spurred his horse to the task as Robert observed aloud, “He rides for Strathenham or Kraigsleigh perhaps, it is a messenger.”

  Randolph asked, “How do you know he is a messenger?”

  “Look and learn, young lord. See the steed he rides? It is an animal of speed, not of war or a working animal. The rider himself is slight of build, is little encumbered and his clothes fit snug. You can see that they do not blow in the breeze as he rides. This is to decrease the wind resistance and his position hunched over the animal does the same. Hence, a messenger.”

  “I wonder to where he rides?”

  “I would send a man to follow and find out but we cannot spare even one. I know not what the letters you carry contain but I do know that you and the importance of its’ delivery far outweigh any passing gain that might be earned by our expenditure of valuable time. We must press on.”

  “Why would you think it is Strathenham or Kraigsleigh, and not farther to the Douglas and the shore?”

  “The second horse is sheened with sweat, he just changed mounts. Also, his pace reflects the distance; to the Douglas or farther at so ardent a pace would require a rest or an additional mount.”

  A short time further, the guardsman, Harold, was returning at a gallop. He pulled up, breathing hard, “Sir Robert, riders coming this way at a steady pace, perhaps a dozen.”

  Robert replied, “Two bowmen away, each side, within ear shot; the rest of you by me and around the young lord.”

  They kept their horses at a brisk walk. A few minutes later, as they topped a small rise, in the distance they could see the banners waving in the wind. The King’s banner shown in the breeze and Randolph said, “I wonder what this could be about.

  Robert replied, “We will soon know.”

  As the entourage came nearer Randolph could see the figure of a woman riding amidst a half score of knights. As the group came closer Randolph recognized Annabella, a member of the King’s Court. Her mother and the queen were sisters. A broad smile crossed his face.

  Robert noticed the smile and said, “I see you know who is approaching.”

  “Yes, I do. We met at court some months ago. I was sent there in Philburt’s stead, while he took care of matters at the castle.”

  She sat straight and tall in her saddle with wisps of her short cropped chestnut hair seen under the hooded cloak of dark forest green that cascaded down the sides of the horse. She looked barely out of her teens but carried herself with a woman's grace.

  She spoke without any of the affectations attributed to ladies of the Royal Court, her shining blue eyes looking at Randolph, “Hail Northerlund!”

  “Hail DelaCroy; it is good to see you. I see that little has changed since I last saw you, legions of men still keep your company.”

  She laughed aloud, “And you have changed little yourself Randolph Northerlund, you still make me smile whenever I see you.”

  Robert took measure of her escort. They were thirteen good knights and true, all wearing coat of arms and a myriad of weapons of their choosing. As the two groups closed to one another, the knights and the friends faced one another. With his arm raised and hand open Robert hailed the knight in a sign and recognition of respect and honor. The rugged mountain of a man astride a black destrier returned the hail.

  At this exchange Annabella turned her gaze to Robert and said, “Sir Knight, who may you be, I know you not.”

  Robert hesitated only for a moment and Randolph spoke up, “Lady Annabella DelaCroy may I present Sir Robert Verragon of Rangeley. He and my father fought in the crusades together and we are fortunate to have him with us at Strathenham.”

  “Good day to you Sir Robert. Lord William is the reason for my journey. The king is concerned about him and I convinced his Majesty that it should be a member of the Royal Family who inquires in person as to the state of his health. I also with discretion requested that it should be me who made the journey, fortunate for me a choice also favored by the Queen.”

  “Tell me Randolph, how fares your father?”

  “Very well thank you. I am en route to the King’s Legate to entreat an audience on my father’s behalf.”

  “You say he is well? It has been reported that he was in poor health and declining.”

  “Your description is accurate up until yesterday when, due to a series of incredible events, my father regained his health and his vigor.”

  “How so?”

  “It is involved and somewhat complicated and is a tale better suited for Sir William to tell. But there are a few things that I will say. Let us talk more together in private.”

  At this, the two young nobles led their horses a few paces away, and as they pulled up Annabella loosed the ties from the front of her cloak and let it fall to her sides.

  Randolph could not help himself from looking at her from head to toe, she was beautiful. The vambraces and snug leathers she wore accentuated her lithe slim figure. A short sword and dagger were sheathed on either side of her gambeson belt and she looked every bit the warrior woman. She carried herself with dignity and reflected a sense of purpose. Prior to this he had only ever seen her dressed in lavish gowns and court finery.

  “You’re staring Randolph,” she said with a smile.

  “In admiration and respect Anna.”

  “You know, young Lordling,” she said; “you are the only man other than family I allow to use that name, so please do so with care least wagging tongues find gossip of us.”

  “Sweet Lady, the honor of it touches my heart; were it up to me I would say, sing and whisper your beautiful name day and night, for all the rest of time to come.”

  “I will tell you a thing, Randolph Northerlund. I love my king and I love your father, for their friendship is my purpose in undertaking this journey; but truth be told, I have longed to see you again. No man has ever touched my spirit as you have done. Now, here you are riding away, and once again I know not when I shall see you.”

  “Worry not my sweet Lady, you will still be at Strathenham when I return. This is an expedient trip to the viceroy and I will be coming back with all haste to return vital documents into m
y father’s hands. Did you send a messenger to father to advise of your arrival?”

  “No, not I, my Captain was to dispatch a rider to announce my arrival at Strathenham, but that will not occur ‘til the 'morrow.”

  “Anna, there has been much trouble here abouts these many months. Our livestock has been robbed, unexplainable fires have occurred and villagers have disappeared. Yesterday, open hostility erupted when six men attacked Lady Enarrah and her two maids just outside our own castle walls”

  “Please! Randolph! Please tell me she is alright!”

  “Yes, yes she is; she had a bad scare but was unharmed, thanks to Sir Luke.”

  “Sir Luke Wynnewood, knight legend of the Crusades?”

  “One and the same; you know of him?”

  “Indeed I do for until just a short time ago he was in residence at the King’s Household.”

  “Then you have met him Anna?”

  “No, he was almost a recluse while there, but the Queen held audiences with him and speaks of him with high praise. It is true then, that his goodness knows no bounds, and he doles out justice as if by God’s own hand?”

  “All true, for a fact I have not met him either, but father knows him well. It was father that was his mentor during the Crusades in the Holy Land when Sir Luke was made a knight. He should be back at the castle about the same time you arrive.”

  “I’ll be the talk of all the gossip mongers of Edinburgh for having met him. While at court he was pursued by numerous ladies there and avoided them all.”

  “Annabella, you have this day made me the happiest man alive with your words of trust and the feelings in your heart. I swear by all the Saints above that as soon as these arduous times are past, you and I will be together, if you so wish it.”

  “Randolph, I do so wish it with all my heart, but I pray you keep this between us alone, for the intrigues of court are felt throughout the land, even in The Borders. Now, let us be away, for the sooner we are now parted, the sooner we will see each other again.”

  +++++

  A huge Fleming Knight carrying a Longsword at his belt and a battle axe in scabbard by his saddle, rode up to Sir Robert. He was garbed in tartan plaid and a pastel green tunic with three white stars above a crowned scarlet heart emblazoned thereon. His smile and easy going manner bespoke volumes of his confidence and ability.

  ”I am Edward Douglas of the King’s Court and lead these knights to escort the Lady on her errand.”

  “I am Robert Verregon, we have had serious trouble in these parts of late, it might bode well for you to send outriders on watch while we are here.”

  In saying this Robert moved his horse closer to Edward’s, his hand resting at ease toward the edge of his doublet. “You and your men are of a fine cut. For myself, I have come from the West and am traveling East.” He said this last almost in a whisper and in saying so he upturned the corner of his doublet in a slight flourish to draw attention to the symbol emblazoned there.

  Sir Edward followed the motion of Robert’s hand and there stitched on the reverse side was a small perfect pyramid with an all seeing eye at the apex. Robert smoothed his doublet back over. As he did so, Edward, with a wave of his hand in a signaling motion, sent four men to range the area.

  As he proffered his hand in friendship, Edward said “We are well met, brother. How may I be of service?”

  Robert said, “The trouble of which I spoke involves the neighboring lands of Lord Alexander. Hard evidence would seem to indicate that he has severe designs on Castle Strathenham. Young Randolph Northerland there is Sir William’s middle son and we go to Edinburgh to get help with plans to resolve this tense situation.”

  Edward said, “I will keep an even closer watch on our charge and our surroundings between here and there. Is there anything we can do to help the situation?”

  “Yes forsooth, there is. Upon reaching the castle, you will find a knight. His colors are black and white and his name is Sir Luke Wynnewood.”

  Edward’s eyes narrowed and he looked up into the azure blue sky. He pondered to himself for several moments about the wonders of the world and Almighty God, safe in His Heaven; while mere mortals, specks in the universe, strove for goodness and decency in a world of hardship and strife.

  Edward Douglas lowered his eyes and looked at Robert saying with reverence' “You speak of the man that they call ‘Black and White Knight, The Ghost’ do you not brother?

  “One and the same.”

  “You are telling me that I will find this man at Castle Strathenham?”

  “On the lands thereabouts yes,” Robert said, “and at present he, with the score of guardsmen at the castle defend and protect its’ people and all the Elleghane lands. Yesterday, in a matter of hours, he saved the life of the Lady of the castle by slaying six killers, and the lives of two children by revealing a traitor in our midst. This I know of first hand. By now his tally may be even greater. He has pledged his sword to the Lady Enarrah and Lord William Northerlund.”

  Edward replied, “Away on other matters I am just a week back to court but I was told he had been there just before I returned. It was said he was seen by few, did not stay long and not a soul knew of his whereabouts. Wynnewood the Brave is spoken of in hushed and reverent tones, and to my way of understanding, rightly so. He is revered by men and women alike, and many believe he is in truth blessed by God. He is called “The Ghost.”

  Robert continued, “I know not from whence he came before yesterday, but there is no doubt that it is him, for he is known to me. We fought together in the terrible conflicts, as did Sir William.”

  “Yes, The Douglas' know the stories well from kith and kin alike. As it was told to me, Sir William Northerland was mentor to the youngest man in Jerusalem ever to be made a knight. Upon our arrival at Strathenham I will ensure that both know that I and my men will be at their service in the name of King David, Queen Maud and Lady Delacroy.”

  Edward, regarding kin; a recent discussion passed betwixt young Randolph and I concerning the destination of a messenger we just saw headed towards the coast. I determined that he was bound for Strathenham or Kraigsleigh and not to The Douglas of the West, whom I discern your clan to be.”

  “Aye Robert, those are my people, and I know of no message carrier en route to my kinfolk. Although truth be told, I am not privy to all the goings on of the clan. I have been away many a long year and had thought it perhaps possible to pay respects to my father while in these parts.”

  “I would hope that your good intentions bear fruit brother, for family I have none, save the Northerlunds.”

  “From my heart, I thank you for that sentiment Good Robert. How can my men and I aide Wynnewood?”

  “Sir Luke was not there when I left and does not know of my departure nor the mission on which we ride. He should have returned to the castle close on to the time you arrive. Tell him that we were well met and well regarded and that I will return as soon as I can with the young lord.

  Edward, this is a grave and disturbing matter, give no quarter to any who would approach you with ill intent from here to the castle. Lord Alexander has hired mercenaries, their numbers are unknown to us. But this we know for certes, they are ruthless men and without honor.”

  As Sir Edward turned to speak with his knights, Randolph and Annabella returned to the group. Randolph said, “Robert, I have advised them to make all speed to gain the safety of Strathenham. Lady Annabella said the King’s Court sent no messenger and she knew of none being sent by anyone else and with certainty none were sent to Strathenham Castle.

  “Then young lord it would do us well to make haste. The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner we may return.”

  “My sentiments as well Sir Robert.”

  “Sir Robert, you have related the seriousness of this situation to Sir Edward have you not?” asked Lady Annabella.

  As he turned on his horse to address the girl he noticed that her cloak had slipped to her
sides, revealing her armor and weapons. His estimation of the girl’s worth rose several notches.

  In recognition of this Robert spoke with respect, “My lady, all information and care has been noted and well received. Please relate to Sir William that a messenger, riding hard and fast was just this morn headed toward Kraigsleigh Castle. We are away, fare well.”

  “Thank you Sir Knight, our meeting here and all it concerned will be relayed to Lord William. Sir Edward, we must be gone from here.”

  Sir Edward Douglas signaled for his outriders to come in. He, Annabella and their knights set off at a fast trot.

  Moments later Randolph, Robert and the guardsmen put foot to horse and were again on their way.

  Legacy

  As she sat Enarrah could not remember there ever being a time in her life before today when she felt so tired and so content all at once. The day had been filled with activity and accomplishment.

  Midway through the day while cleaning and revamping the West Wing, Lady Violet’s Wing, Sir William had come and said he was moving back into the great chamber in that section of the castle. The wing and the chamber had been unused since Lady Violet had passed on and when Sir William had returned from Crusade he refused to go there. Out of respect for him, everyone in the castle had stayed away from there as well.

  He could not endure the memories where he and his true love had spent so much precious time. His three sons had all been born there and it was also there that Lady Alicia had held forth as the matriarch.

  Enarrah reflected on the many changes and surprises that had abounded throughout this day. Each one a goodness in its’ own way. Each breathing greater life into the castle itself and giving greater purpose and fulfillment to all those within its’ walls. Even the guards had pitched in and helped, most of their own volition and on their own time. As if a castle guard could really be said to have his own time.

  Philburt directed the moving and placement of the heaviest and most cumbersome of the furnishings; and Bertrand along with Father Dunkin, helped oversee the monumental cleaning tasks. It was the best labor of all, that of pride in accomplishment.

  The twins had been indispensable. Early in the day, under Thomas’ watchful guidance Broox and Ashe had turned the stable, paddock, corral and practice field from a mismanaged hodgepodge into an organized equestrian showplace. Throughout the rest of the day the lads were a constant moving blur of communication; running messages and errands for Sir William, the sons, Bertrand, Ivar, their mother and Enarrah herself.

  What an incredible day. Her bones ached to the marrow and she felt exhausted and elated all at once. She whispered another prayer for the safe return of Luke Wynnewood. All the day long and when she least expected it, her heart pined for this man she had barely seen, hardly knew, had not formally met and had falsely accused of terrible doings.

  She was now certain beyond all doubt that she had been wrong about him. The snippets

  of conversation and outright comments made about Luke all during this day by people all around her helped her see things much better. The real truth of it was that the goodness she felt in him and of him, she also felt for him.

  Right at that moment she wished more than anything else to be able to look into those penetrating eyes of his and tell him so. She put it from her mind, and centered her thoughts on the myriad of details to be finished on the morrow. Of a sudden she felt hungry and remembered that she hadn’t eaten since dawn.

 

  As she was gathering her strength to seek out the kitchen her thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice and she turned to see her dear friend standing beside her.

  “It would seem by the intent look on your face, other than outright fatigue of course, that you might have been thinking on what I mentioned about your now being a woman grown, Heatherlyn said.”

  “In my own way, after a fashion; just so, yes.”

  “It’s a fine job you’ve made of it with Lady Violet’s wing. There are now two dozen more rooms of living space. You know Enarrah, she would be most proud of you, as are we all. I have my suspicions that we will be needin’ those fine skills of yours and the extra room as well.”

  At this last comment Enarrah looked with a question in her eyes at her friend and mentor.

  “Not to worry your pretty head my dear young lady. I can’t grasp the particulars of what I say, it is just a feeling I have, that’s all. The Earth Mother tuggin' on the threads of my memory.”

  Now on to greater things. Your day is not over yet. Sir William entreated me to see that you are cared for and well supped, he has seen that you’ve been running yourself ragged the day long and that you didn’t stop for food.

  After you are pampered quite nice, which I must say will be my particular enjoyment in doing, you are to see him in his chambers. Now, dear friend, your repast and your hot bath await you in your new chambers.”

  “My new chambers?”

  “Why yes, my dear Lady of the Castle, your new chambers. While you were engaged in your efforts in the west wing, Sir William was immersed in activities of his own. All of your belongings have been moved into the chambers in which he has, up until today, been in residence; and within which a few appropriate changes have been made.”

  Ever so unladylike, Enarrah’s jaw dropped and her mouth fell open, and the only words she could manage to get out in a soft whisper were, “Oh my goodness.”

  As Heatherlyn helped Enarrah to her feet and they walked through the corridors the words came out in a distinct exclamation, “Oh--My--Goodness--Gracious!”

  Enarrah caught her breath as they entered through the all too familiar doorway and into the chambers beyond where during the last year she had spent more time than in her own room. Expecting the dark richness and deep hues of forest colors, she instead was confronted with a cavernous expanse filled with light and softness. Pastels and whites greeted her everywhere. The tapestries, drapes, bed linens and even the rugs bespoke a distinctly feminine presence.

  Mairi and Elsbeth stood near the fireplace giggling back and forth. A table there was laden with sumptuous food and drink. Sconces and candelabra were lit throughout. “My Lady,” Elsbeth said, “Heatherlyn and we two put our best efforts into this for you, all with Philburt’s help and guidance.”

  “Philburt? All with Philburt’s guidance. How amazing.”

  As she walked across her new chamber, her sense of smell became aware. There were white fall roses, in vases, on tables, on the dressers and desks. Their smell was intoxicating. The chamber was warm and cozy as she sat to the table and was served supper by her maids.

  Heatherlyn gave her goodbye and was off on other duties. Mairi scurried to secure the door and Enarrah’s mind soared. She had finished eating and sat for a few moments watching the firelight in the hearth, dancing to and fro, with poise and grace. It was at that very moment that she felt the beauty and the happiness of her life enfold her, and so it was her thoughts returned again to Luke.

  Luke the Brave, Luke the Good, handsome and fearless. Those burning dark eyes saw into her spirit, into her mind and into her heart. At that very moment she knew that she loved him.

  The feeling swept over her in warm soft caresses and she felt serenity enfold her spirit.

  As she languished in the hot tub the waves of tender emotion caressed the shores of her heart.

  She could not stop smiling.

  She was aware of everything as if for the first time. The land, the castle, this room, her heart and especially her body, all of her body was new and wonderful. Now she understood it was Luke that made her so aware of it all. It was then she remembered this day of wonders was not over yet.

  +++++

 

  William Northerland had watched his lady niece all the day long. A dozen different times he had seen her expressions, her movements and her interactions with others. He was looking for a sign, but he didn’t know what. Something, anything... What he saw was h
er efficiency, diligence and unbridled efforts for all the tasks at hand.

  He had faced down blood thirsty Saracens, errant knights and pompous royalty. Now, as he paced the floor of his chamber he could not think for the life of him how he was to explain to this darling sweet little lass that she must marry Luke Wynnewood. A man whom she had blatantly, though misguidedly, called a killer.

  Without thinking he called to his wife. “Violet, what am I to do?”

  His sweet Violet had come to him in his dreams last night.

  It was the first time this had happened since he’d been home. In his dream they were standing in the meadow in early summer, during their courtship. The green of the rolling glen was contrasted by the incredible lavender of flower blossoms covering everywhere like a carpet. He had held both her hands in his and she had given him that incredible, beatific smile of hers' that she had since the first day he saw her in their youth. The 'this is a beautiful life, all is well, all is right with the world smile'!

  Other than the subject of his talk with Enarrah for this evening, that dream had been with him all the day long. Somehow, someway it was as if the two events should go together. How; he did not know, yet the feeling was there and it was strong. So, as he posed the question to his dear wife’s spirit he stopped and waited, half expecting an answer.

  As the moments went by and all that responded was the crackling of the fire in the hearth and an intemperate wind at the windows, he grinned. Maybe the dream was the answer, just the shear beauty of it.

  With that realization he stopped pacing, sat in his old comfortable chair by the hearth, and the fire was radiant. He let his mind settle on that. Yes, that was the answer. It would all go well with Enarrah.

  Now that his mind was settled with this, his thoughts wandered to other events of the day.

  His talks with Philburt were many. The two of them had spent several hours going over in depth and at length about the current situation with Alexander and the security of the castle and the village.

  They had examined the gold coins found on Neeley and three more of the same found hidden in the stable with the rest of his belongings. Ivar had removed all traces of the man from the castle.

  During the course of the day the conversations had included Captain Ivar, young Thomas and Bertrand.

  The so called random unlucky events related by his two sons and the Captain that had occurred during his convalescence were in large part, if not as a direct result of Alexander and his henchman Shafterly. There had been attacks by reivers of livestock, fires of unknown origin that had occurred in the fields and several incidences where villagers had been beaten or vandalized and some of them had just plain disappeared.

  Judging by the surprise and the suppressed rage that he had seen on Shafterly’s face during his impromptu visit just that morning the man fully expected Sir William to be at death’s door if not dead already. The pretext for his arrival being in order to require water for his horses and his men was blatantly a lie.

  Thomas had reported that his horses drank not at all, and his men sparingly. Somewhere, from some unknown source of knowledge and authority Alexander had learned of Enarrah’s legacy. The sooner Luke returned the sooner a greater sense of safety would prevail upon the castle. For although his guardsmen were hardened fighters, they were no fit match for hired assassins and mercenaries.

  +++++

  There was a knock upon William's chamber door. He knew it to be Enarrah’s from all these past months of hearing it thrice daily. This time there was something different about it. Although it was clearly identifiable as hers, there was something different about it, that he could not quite place; confidence perhaps?

  As he walked to the door with this thought on his mind he was not prepared for the sight that he beheld. Standing there was not the girl who had given her erstwhile ministrations to an ailing man but a woman in full bloom and full of life.

  He stood there staring, awestruck. He looked at her from head to toe and back again.

  There, standing before him in a pastel green gown of fine linen, adorned with a scarlet belt and matching wristlets, flowing waves of hair swept back beneath a small lace cap with shining eyes and radiant smile stood not Enarrah the girl, but Enarrah the Lady of Elleghane.

  The silence was broken by the soft timber of her voice saying.

  “Sir William, I am here at your behest.”

  Yes, yes,” he flustered. “Come in my dear young lady, come in.”

  In saying, he took her by the hand and took her across the room to the two chairs by the fireplace. He led her to the smaller of the two.

  When he bade her to be seated she protested, “Lord William, I mustn’t, this was Lady Violet’s favored place.”

  “Go on, seat yourself lassie, I am sure that she would want it so.”

  As he himself sat down he could not help but think how beautiful and poised she was. Indeed her curling tresses and sparkling eyes reminded him so very much of Lady Alicia the Kind, her mother Pauline and Violet, his own lady love. Could it be? Could it possibly be that the look of love was on this incredible woman? Maybe it could. He offered her a glass of warmed wine, took a small drought of his ale and began.

  “As the Lady of Castle Strathenham there are things that you must know and be made aware of.”

  He paused, and as he did so she said, “You are very gracious uncle but I am only lady here because you have no lady of your own.”

  “In point of fact Enarrah, you are the lady of this castle by right of birth ever since Lady Violet has been gone.”

  She looked into his eyes. “How can this be? You are the lord of this castle. I have no claim here.”

  “Verily, I say to you, Enarrah, it was your Grandmother Alicia whose claim this was, and her families’ before her. By royal proclamation it was given down to Lady Alicia after the passing of her father and therefore to your mother Pauline, she being the eldest daughter.

  It is not an overly rare thing, it has happened many times down through our country’s history. However, what accompanies such a situation, as well, is a great deal of secrecy.

  This secrecy is an overall practical matter of device and design in order to protect the Lady as well as her lands from hostile takeover by greedy, devious and sometimes murderous means. As the surviving sister your Aunt Violet held the claim and since she has been gone you are the rightful heir and Lady of this place. My place here is as your trustee and protector and only that until such time as you come of age or are lawfully married.”

  Enarrah, 'healer and helper', was now 'Lady Enarrah of Elleghane'. She watched the flames licking at the logs in the fire, her brow furrowed and she asked, “Dearest Uncle William, what does this all mean?”

  Throwing caution to the four winds Sir William replied. “It means my darling niece that somehow, someway, Lord Alexander has found out about your inheritance. A curious thing in itself, because other than at court it is not widely known, and even there only those close to the royals would know of it. Every indication is that Alexander means to take you by force to get it.”

  “Enarrah, before Lord Alexander can seize you, this castle and these lands; which surely seems his intention to do, you must marry. It is my intention that you should be married to Luke Wynnewood. He is the one protector who, without question, can preserve both your safety and the sanctity of Elleghane lands. The wedding itself and the immediate announcement should foil Alexander's plans.”

  William took a deep breath, held it for some moments and waited. He expected an outburst of protestations from the girl healer turned Lady Woman. He expected tears, he expected consternation, but what he got was what he least expected and should not have been surprised to hear.

  Strong and clear Enarrah said, “ Sir William I did not know myself before this very evening; that being the lady wife of Sir Luke Wynnewood is the greatest wish within all my heart.”

 

  William was amazed and relieved
. He exhaled the deep breath, watching the smile widening on her face.

  Returning it with his own beaming countenance he said, “I believe then it will be made to be so. I see by the look of you that you not only admire him, but you do love him as well, don’t you lass?”

  “Yes, ‘tis true, I believe I do, and you are the first to know of it Uncle William. I only knew myself just before coming here to see you.”

  The silence lasted for several awkward moments with neither knowing where to take the conversation. Then Enarrah spoke up, “Thank you so much for my beautiful chambers.”

  “Aye, you’re most welcome lassie, ‘tis only right for your Ladyship; and besides, I had the great need to be back here where I belonged. In this room is where my deepest love for your Aunt Violet has always been, and indeed it feels good to be back here.”

 

  He stood while saying this, having a look about the chamber. Without preamble, Enarrah got to her feet. She took the short step and flung her arms high about Sir William’s neck. Her head buried in his shoulder with tears streaming down her cheeks she said, “I love you so much Uncle William, I love you so very much; you’ve been the whole world to me, just as my own father would have.”

  “Sir Melvin an' Lady Pauline a been rightly proud of you, they would; to see what a fine lady you’ve grown to be.”

  As he held this delicate flower of womanhood, great Sir William Northerland of Elleghane, the grizzled veteran of wars, enfolded his niece with his battle scared arms. His heart went out to her and he patted her back saying, “Everything will be well my lass, everything will be well.”

  The young girl in her sprang forth and sputtered, “I know... I think I know... I believe I know, but... but what if Luke doesn’t love me? What if he doesn’t even like me? He thinks I am a scatterbrained castle girl who believes him to be a cold blooded killer. He took no notice of me, and must think me to be an irritation.”

  William held her away from him at arms length and looked deep into her eyes saying as he wiped the tears away, “Well, as to that, knowing the man as I do; and, from what our good Captain Ivar has to say, Sir Luke may very well have deep feelings for you as well.”

  “But how can you know this? You haven’t even seen each other yet? He might not even come back here.”

 

  “As I say. I know the man. He has seen the wrongs being done here and will not leave until they are all made right, even to the very end of himself. Also, I know for a fact that he was in the village earlier today for he sent Orlando the cartman here with five horses and a number of supplies and weapons.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Yes, he had another run-in with some of Alexander’s men no doubt. A good warrior will leave nothing behind for his enemies to use against him again if circumstances and time will allow him to do so. Hence the horses and weapons he sent back here.

  He will return soon.”

  On saying this he guided her back to her chair and continued, “Come, rest yourself, I will tell you the full of it, as I will tell Luke.”

  As he passed her a linen and lace hand cloth he said, “Now dry your tears Lady, have a few sips of wine and I’ll tell you the heart of all this...”

 

  He sat himself and took a slow drink of ale from the ornate table that sat between the two of them. After a few minutes he continued, “When I left for the Crusades many years ago my good friend Lord Carlton held the lands and castle at Kraigsleigh. His sons had left for the East and perished there some years before that. He was very old when I left but still hearty and not ill of health. Some way, at a time after my leaving he was said to have succumbed to a mysterious illness.

  Lord Alexander took over Kraigsleigh. I believe him to be responsible for my friend’s fate. He is also responsible for the long string of mysterious bad happenings that has befallen Strathenham. I know not the true extent and perhaps never will. From what I can gather from my sons, Ivar, Bertrand and even Heatherlyn, Alexander’s and Shafterly’s rampaging influences have been extensive.”

  At this Enarrah looked up at him, “Heatherlyn? What has she to do with all of this?”

 

  “A great deal, you see although Heatherlyn grew up here at Strathenham she was born and spent her early years at Kraigsleigh. About three decades ago after Lord Carleton’s wife passed away he became overly fond of one of his wife’s maids who had been a great comfort to him when his wife died.

  Truth be told, the way he talked of her, I think he actually loved the girl. They had a daughter together, she is the only surviving heir to Kraigsleigh Castle. That is our Lady Stewardess.

  I believe Heatherlyn knows, her mother telling her before she passed away. That is why her mother sent her here. So that no reprisals would be taken against her as Lord Carleton’s daughter. I believe she suspects that I know but we have never spoken of it. As you know she met John Brookman here and they were wed. I fear he too has perished in this terrible war as so many others have.

  I tell you this so that you may know that when Lord Alexander and his evil intentions are defeated, that if the King so wishes it, Kraigsleigh Castle and its lands could be deeded to Heatherlyn and her sons.”

  Enarrah was awash in emotions. Not only had she found out that Strathenham was her legacy but her best friend was rightful heiress to Kraigsleigh Castle. She had known for a long time that her friend was in fact ‘Lady Heatherlyn’ but she never knew what she was lady of. Enarrah sipped her wine.

 

  “Sir William what do we do now?”

 

  “We wait for Luke’s return and prepare to meet all hostilities that encroach upon your castle, dear Lady of Elleghane.”

  Dreams