The sword and the dagger, p.4
The Sword and the Dagger, page 4
“Allow me to present Sir Gilbert of Burgundy,” said Conrad.
Elaine nodded to Gilbert. “And this is my maid-in-waiting, Lady Matilda.”
Gilbert’s eyes locked on to Matilda and she returned the favor. The two held the look for a long moment and Matilda produced a modest, dimpled smile Elaine had seen her employ often. Gilbert already looked half-smitten. If the occasion had not been such a serious one, Elaine would have been amused.
“You knew Conrad before he went to France, do you remember?” Bernard said to her.
“I remember.”
“What would you say to giving him a tour of our castle grounds?” Bernard continued smoothly. “They’ve been enlarged, I think, since he was here last. The garden is especially lovely this time of year.”
Elaine was expecting this—she and Bernard had rehearsed it—but she had decided to add a wrinkle Bernard wasn’t expecting. “I would love to give the Prince a tour, but I wonder if we might do so on horseback? I haven’t had my ride yet today, and I do so love to ride.”
Bernard hesitated. He didn’t like improvisation. “The horses are tired,” he said. “They should be taken to the stables.”
“We’ll ride them to the stables,” Elaine said. “Then walk to the garden from there.”
Bernard glanced at Conrad, who said, “Certainly, if it would please the Princess.”
“What would really please me,” Elaine said, “would be if I might be permitted to ride your horse.” She’d originally intended to ride Roland, but the chance to embarrass Conrad was too good to pass up. If she could control his horse better than he could, it might teach him a little humility.
Conrad smiled condescendingly. “You couldn’t control him. He’s quite excitable.”
“May I not at least try? He’s such a beautiful horse, it would mean so much to me! Please?”
Conrad shrugged. “If you insist. But don’t blame me if he throws you.”
Elaine approached the stallion and stroked him gently. “What’s his name?”
“Tranquil,” said Conrad. If he found any humor in the incongruity between the horse’s name and his temperament, he gave no sign of it. Two grooms stepped forward and helped her into the saddle, making sure her skirts revealed no leg in the process. Another horse, a big steady gray, was brought forward for Conrad. The royal couple started off at a walk, while grooms, three from Antioch and three from Tripoli, followed at a respectful distance. Matilda and Gilbert trailed along as well. Elaine could hear Matilda giggling at something Gilbert had said.
For a while they rode in silence. There was a slight trembling from the stallion, and Elaine stroked his withers gently. If she stayed calm, so would the horse. They headed through the bailey gate into the courtyard and toward the stables, while Elaine tried to think of something to say. In the end it was Conrad who spoke first.
“You were late,” he said.
“I was making preparations. I ask your forgiveness.”
“Of course. But in the future please keep in mind the need to show proper respect.”
“I shall endeavor to do so,” she said coldly.
He gave a nod but did not seem completely satisfied, for he cleared his throat as if searching for the right words.
“Is there anything else?” Elaine asked.
“You received my gift?” he said.
“Your gift?”
“The locket.”
“With your hair.”
“That’s right.”
“Yes, I did receive it. Many thanks.”
“You’re not wearing it.”
“It’s far too precious to wear.”
“Yes, you’re right, of course it is,” he said. She glanced at his face for some sign of irony but found none. He tried to meet her glance but she looked away. She was afraid if their eyes met she’d say something she’d regret.
“I remember you, from before I went to France,” he said.
“Do you?” she said.
“Yes. You look different.”
“How so?”
“You are … more pleasant to look at.”
“Was I so unpleasant before?”
“No, not unpleasant, but…”
“Yes?”
“Well,” he fumbled, “your legs were…”
“My legs were what?”
“Too long for the rest of you, somehow.”
“Well,” she said, “they had to reach all the way to the ground, you know.”
He frowned. “Everyone’s legs reach the ground.”
“It was a joke.”
“Oh,” he said.
This was even worse than she’d feared. Would she really be spending the rest of her life with this vain, humorless prig? Despair settled around her like a cloak. She could tell that Conrad was aware of her disapproval but she didn’t care. In fact, it only goaded her on.
“Tranquil doesn’t seem so excitable as you predicted,” she said sweetly. Conrad’s face flushed and his jaw muscles tightened, but Elaine continued, “In fact, I would say he seems rather … tranquil.”
“You mock me,” Conrad said.
“Heaven forbid,” said Elaine.
“Dismount,” he said abruptly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Get off the horse.”
“You said I could ride it.”
“You’ve ridden it.”
“You want me to get off now?”
“That’s right.”
“We’re not at the stables yet.”
“I can see that. Dismount, if you please.”
She stared at him; he was quite serious. She dismounted and he did the same. She refused his attempt to help her onto the gray and vaulted into the saddle, her skirts billowing. If he found that unladylike so much the better. He mounted Tranquil, and they resumed riding in silence.
The stables were in a state of confusion. The horses of the castle were being relocated to make room for the dozens more that had come with the Prince. Horses stamped and pawed, whinnying with excitement; stallions snorted threateningly. Stable boys and grooms, struggling to control their mounts, jostled, elbowed, and argued, their voices overlaid by the gruff shouted orders of knights and squires. Into this loud and dusty chaos Elaine and Conrad rode, and even Elaine, riding the gray, could sense the sudden tension in Conrad’s chestnut stallion.
Conrad sensed it, too, and Elaine saw that he was more determined than ever to control the horse. Meanwhile, she could see Bernard and the others strolling toward the stables from the courtyard, eager to see how the first meeting between Prince and Princess had gone.
Tranquil jerked at the reins, and Conrad pulled back viciously. The contest of wills escalated and the stallion pawed and bucked. At that moment a stable boy passed by leading Midnight, and the chestnut crashed into it broadside. Both stallions reared, hooves flailing. Conrad tumbled from the saddle and fell heavily to the ground.
For a knight to be unhorsed, except by an opponent in the lists, was unheard of, and as Conrad scrambled to his feet there were cries of surprise—and laughter. He turned furiously on the Arab stable boy, who, Elaine now realized, was the tall one who had stared at her earlier that morning. He was staring at her now as well, with an expression of surprise and something else that Elaine couldn’t quite decipher.
“You clumsy fool!” Conrad shouted. “I’ll have you flogged! Seize him!”
Two large grooms grabbed hold of the boy’s arms, holding him still, and while he was helpless Conrad struck him across the face with his riding crop. This was the last straw; loathing for Conrad rose inside Elaine like a flood. The grooms started to drag the stable boy off.
“Stop!” Elaine heard herself say. “The fault was not his.”
The grooms stopped and Conrad turned on Elaine, white with anger. “Hold your tongue! I’ll teach you your duty soon enough!” He turned back to the Arab and tried to strike him again but, despite being held, this time the boy somehow managed to duck under the blow, and Conrad’s whip struck one of the grooms instead, which only enraged Conrad further.
“Do as I say, take him!” he said to the grooms. “I want him flogged to death!” Then he said to the Arab in a tone that made Elaine’s blood freeze, “Not one inch of skin will remain on your flesh!”
“Let him be!” said Elaine to the grooms.
Conrad shot her a murderous glare but she met it squarely: “He’s blameless.”
“He attacked me!”
“He did nothing of the sort. The collision was caused by your poor horsemanship and nothing else. He will be dismissed, but he will certainly not be executed!”
Conrad shouted again to the grooms, “Take him, damn you!”
“Do not,” said Elaine.
The grooms were from Tripoli, used to obeying Elaine; they didn’t move. Conrad, livid and humiliated beyond endurance, turned back to Elaine. They spat the words at each other:
“By God, I will teach you to obey me!”
“I will never obey you!”
By now Bernard had arrived. “What’s the trouble?” he asked anxiously.
“This Arab dog knocked me from my horse. I ordered him flogged but she defends him!”
“The fault was Conrad’s,” Elaine insisted.
“Elaine—” Bernard began, but she interrupted him.
“I saw it all, Bernard. The stable boy did nothing wrong. Nothing at all!”
Bernard hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he said, “Take him away and flog him as the Prince commanded.”
But Bernard’s hesitation had caused the confused grooms to relax their grip on the stable boy for an instant. He wrenched his arms free. Then, quick as lightning, he drew a dagger from his shirt, raised it high over his head, and charged toward Elaine.
5
Elaine was trapped in a nightmare, where things seemed to happen slowly yet she was unable to move. Or perhaps her mind simply refused to accept what her eyes saw: she was being attacked by a man whose life she had just saved. The Arab was three steps away, then two, then one, the dagger poised to strike …
Their eyes met, Elaine’s wide and disbelieving, his determined. But then he hesitated, the knife poised to strike but not moving. Someone stepped forward and blocked his arm. Elaine, still in shock, dimly realized it was Conrad who had intervened.
The Arab yanked his arm free and turned toward Conrad, who was already drawing his sword. Then Walter stepped between her and the Arab and she heard him roar, “To arms! To arms!” Squires and knights were already reaching for their weapons amid incoherent cries of alarm and confusion.
Bernard’s cry sounded above the tumult, “Seize him!” and the Arab turned and fled. A squire who tried to block his path had his belly slashed open for his trouble. The squire howled in pain while the Arab ran toward Tranquil, the nearest horse, and vaulted onto his back. He leaned over the stallion’s neck, grasped the reins, and dug his heels into his side. Within a few strides the big chestnut was at full gallop, rapidly leaving the stables behind.
Bernard screamed, “He must not escape!”
Walter said in a calm but commanding voice, “Mount and pursue!” as he himself climbed on the closest horse. Conrad had already mounted the gray Elaine had been riding and was the first to give chase, with Walter close behind and a dozen others trailing after.
Elaine began to recover her poise. She saw that Margaret, Bernard’s wife, had fainted dead away, and that Gilbert and Matilda were both standing motionless, wide-eyed and openmouthed. Then she saw the Arab ride through the gate that led to the bailey, and rein sharply to the right, leaning low on the horse’s neck to present a smaller target for arrows. She realized he was making for the main gate, a logical choice, but she remembered—the main gate would be closed. Bernard had instructed the servants to close it once the Prince had passed through, lest too many commoners from the town crowd into the courtyard. She cried out, “The gate’s closed, he’ll have to turn back!” But Conrad and the others were already too far away to hear.
Elaine had a sudden vision of the Arab somehow evading his pursuers and doubling back to the stables and attacking her again. But this was impossible—the entire castle was on the alert and it was only a matter of time until he was killed—and Elaine, thinking more clearly by the moment, decided she couldn’t allow that to happen. The attempt on her life demanded an explanation, and the Arab stable boy was the only one who could provide it. He must not die, at least not yet. She climbed onto a horse and, ignoring the startled looks of the squires still in the stables, started for the bailey gate. Bernard looked up from his just reviving wife and cried out, “Elaine! For God’s sake!” but she ignored him and urged the horse on.
By the time she entered the bailey it was empty except for a few stragglers who were hurrying on foot toward the side gate that led to the garden. The Arab, finding the main gate closed, must have veered into the garden, hoping its orchards might provide some sort of cover. Elaine guided her horse past the stragglers and through the garden gate.
Armed riders were everywhere, brandishing their swords and heedlessly urging their horses forward, snapping off branches and trampling flowers. A tremendous shout arose near the garden’s southern wall and Elaine rode toward the sound.
The Arab had dismounted and attempted to reach the southern wall on foot with the intention of climbing over it, but Conrad had managed to block his path and Elaine arrived just as the fight began.
The Arab faced the Knight, dagger at the ready. Conrad was still mounted, but it soon became evident that the Arab could move just as quickly on foot as Conrad could maneuver the horse at such close quarters, so he leaped to the ground, his sword raised. Walter and the other pursuers had gathered around but Conrad cried out:
“Hold off, he’s mine!”
Conrad held a broadsword, a weapon so big some men needed two hands to wield it, yet as Elaine slid from her horse she saw that the contest was not wholly unequal. Compared to the dagger the sword was unwieldy; a blow was fatal if it landed, but if it missed, Conrad would be vulnerable to a counterattack and the Arab had already shown that he could move very quickly. Both combatants were cautious as they circled, trying to find an opening or provoke one.
Conrad feinted with his left foot as if to strike from that side, then swung his sword the opposite way. The Arab was fooled but pulled back as the blade sang past his face, missing by an inch. Now Conrad was slightly off balance and the Arab darted in for a thrust that Conrad avoided, though the dagger’s point ripped his surcoat. They began circling again, breathing heavily and never taking their eyes off one another. Most of the men watching were armed and, despite Conrad’s orders, Elaine knew if the Arab gained an advantage he would be killed instantly.
That was the very thing she could not allow. Quickly she searched the ground until she found the right stone, then took the sling from the pocket of her dress and found a gap in the crowd large enough to give her a little room. She steadied herself and took a breath … step, swing, throw, release …
The stone flew straight and true and struck the Arab just behind his right ear. He dropped to the ground. A larger stone might have killed him, but Elaine had chosen well and he was stunned but alive.
Conrad turned on the crowd in a fury.
“Who did that?”
“I did,” Elaine said.
“You?” He didn’t believe it at first but then he saw the sling in her hand. “I said he was mine!”
“He must not be killed,” Elaine said.
“Why the devil not?”
“Because he tried to kill me and I want to know why!”
Conrad was too angry to comprehend what she was saying. A gruff voice spoke from behind Elaine. “The Princess is right, Your Grace.” It was Walter. He stepped past her toward Conrad and continued, “It would be well to know his reason.”
“He was trying to stop the marriage. Is that not obvious?”
“It would also be well to know who sent him,” Walter said.
Conrad said stubbornly, “How do you know he was sent by anyone?”
“The dagger,” Walter said.
“What of it?”
Walter leaned over and took the dagger out of the Arab’s hand and hefted it. “It’s beautifully made, is it not? And perfectly balanced. See for yourself. The Saracens call it a shabriyah.”
He handed the dagger to Conrad, who glanced at it and snapped, “And what of that?”
“How does a poor Arab stable boy afford such a weapon?” Walter asked, and there were murmurs of agreement from the crowd so that even Conrad couldn’t argue the point further.
“Very well,” he said. “Take him and do whatever you must. But don’t kill him. Leave that for me.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” said Walter blandly, though Elaine caught the expression of contempt on his face.
She was aware that Conrad was looking at her and she turned to him. His expression had changed from hot anger to cold fury. She gave him a look she hoped was a match for his own.
“You must learn to do your duty, which is to obey me,” said Conrad.
She lifted her chin. “We are not yet married, sir. I have no duty toward you at all.”
“You take pleasure in defying me,” he said.
“Nothing about you gives me pleasure,” said Elaine, then turned on her heel and walked away. Now that the crisis had passed her knees were weak and her stride unsteady, but she tried her best to hide it and walked quickly toward the castle keep.
6
Elaine was alone in her chamber, where she’d been ever since she’d returned from the stables. Half-dazed from the attack, she’d fallen into a fitful sleep for a few hours, but now she was awake and aware of an unnatural silence that had fallen over the entire castle. No doubt everyone else was also stunned by the attack, but she felt the need for some human contact. No one had come to see her, not even Matilda.
She opened the door to her room and was startled to see three armed guards standing outside. Of course, it made sense that she would be assigned protection after what had happened.
