The Dark Lady (6 page)

Richard had known the wild knight long enough not to be led into an argument. It was best with the arrogant and unsteady boy to be calm. If one raised their voice to Van, he jumped quickly into anger, but a calm argument would more than likely make him listen. “Nay. Look around you. You cannot go alone anywhere. Not with the night closing in. Not a lone rider.”

The Dark Knight took in the surroundings and the men who lay dead. He shook his head with that same rushed look of anxiety in his eyes.

Richard could almost read his thoughts as Van surveyed the slaughter that had occurred. He could see when Van began to think of the consequences of leaving. Eolian’s army had been few compared to the Dark Knight’s men, but the enemy had hoped for the element of surprise. It had not happened. Van had a spy in the ranks of Eolian’s army and he had brought him the message of the ambush the night before.

Most of Eolian’s men had fallen in the battle, but some had escaped. Eolian Montgomery was among them. A lone rider would be easy pickings.

Van groaned gently, looking toward his horse once again. The men watched as Richard confronted him. Richard did not want to cause a scene in front of them, but he could not let his lord ride into the night alone.

Richard sighed in relief as Van relaxed. “Give him a fresh horse, I want to leave now.” With that, the parchment was thrust into Richard’s chest. Richard released his friends arm and Van took a shuddering breath before walking away.

Richard watched him check the saddle on his mount. Concern ate at him as he gently opened the crumpled missive.

Dearest Van,

I need you to come to me. I will not live to see you if you do not hurry. I have waited too long. Doctor Burgess is with me. He is unsure of how much longer I can fight off the lung infection that has ravaged me. Please Hurry to me. I love you. I must see you.

Love Patricia

Richard did not know what the relationship was between Patricia and Van, but he did know she was not one of the many mistresses that the young man kept. He had wondered many times if she was his mother. Never once had it been said, although there were lots of messages. All were responded to and most would take him away to see her.

“
Men, mount up, we are moving.” Richard’s hearty bellow found all the men and sent them rushing to mount their steeds.

Richard came to a stop before his lord and placed a gloved hand on Van’s long leg. The knight sat astride Damien, the big destrier the King had given him three years ago at his knighting ceremony. Richard looked up at the knight’s blood-encrusted armor.

With Eolian escaping, another attack could come at any time. It would be an uncomfortable ride, but it was best they all rode in full gear. “The men are ready, my lord. The wounded are few and none that cannot wait for treatment. All are in condition for a hard ride.”

Van grasped Richard’s hand, desperately clinging to it. In all the battles that he had fought beside the young knight he had never seen him so badly shaken. Fear tingled at the back of Richard’s mind. Van was clearly upset about Patricia, but there seemed to be something more. “I need to talk to you, my friend,”

“
Of course, my liege.” Richard could see the despair, the emptiness in those coal black eyes—things he had never seen before. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. He was scared for his young friend.

“
If something were to happen,” Van took a deep breath. “If I had to leave you—” His hand trembled slightly as he struggled with his words. “I need to know you understand how I feel about you. I love you like a father. Without you I would not be who I am today.” Richard glanced around him at the men who appeared to be out of hearing range. “I want to thank you for all you have done.” Van’s voice trembled and his eyes shimmered with moisture. “Everything I have and everything I am is to your credit.”

Richard was unsure of how to deal with the unexpected emotional outburst. He wanted to say something. He needed to say something. He tightened his grip on the clutching hand and smiled. “You have always been a son to me and you always will be.”

Richard’s stomach twisted in protest at the thought of losing the young boy he had taken under his wing eight years ago. Van was irrational and unpredictable, but Richard had been honest in his answer. He had always thought of him as the son he had never had. It was hard to see him as the ferocious knight with the unearthly appetites that the story tellers described him to be. No, Richard would always see the Dark Knight as the scared little boy who refused to admit that he was scared.

***

Van looked back to her men. They were weary and withered, but not one of them would complain. Her stomach lurched at the mere thought of leaving them. A deep breath did little to contain the overpowering emotions. Anger, fear, loneliness, and despair crushed at her like a boulder. A few deep stinging breaths and she was able to shove the feelings down to a place where they were at least manageable, even if not completely gone. She concentrated on the rough ride instead of her useless emotions. Fear and worry would do nothing to help. All it would do is make things worse.

The night’s ride was rough on all the men and morning had led into afternoon before the small, yet tidy homes of Junket village came into view. Van knew the men were all about to drop from exhaustion.

The people fled before the thundering hooves of the army’s horses. The fearful villagers gathered children to their bosoms as they ran from the deafening sounds of chain mail and weapons. Van scowled in irritation. Normally she felt great pleasure and pride at the way people trembled at the mere mention of The Dark Knight’s name, but not here in this village. These were people Van knew and had grown up with, but all they knew of Van was that he was an overzealous boy with a quick and violent temper that had grown up to be dangerous.

Van took a shuddering breath that hurt deep inside. She threw up an arm signaling the men to stop. Then she rode the massive destrier back through the men to where Daniel was slouched in his saddle. His head bobbed to the rocking of his borrowed horse as the creature shifted nervously from leg to leg. Van pulled Damien to a stop in front of the messenger and touched the old man’s shoulder. Daniel jerked his head up in surprise.

“
Easy, old boy. Time to wake up.” Van held a small bag of coins out to Daniel.

There was still fear in Daniel’s eyes as he took the offered coin, but he smiled weakly and dismounted on wobbly legs. An older woman rushed, without hesitation, into the group of warriors. She threw her arms around Daniel, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Van reined Damien around and headed back to the front of the army. She snorted impatiently and looked back at the couple who kissed and hugged. Tears of joy flowed as they reunited with each other. That same swirling rush of emotions threatened to overcome Van once more and the torrent of feelings had to be shoved back down.

She smiled as Richard handed a small bag of coins to one of the men. Four of her warriors broke off from the group to retrieve supplies. Normally, the army would hunt and gather, but they were all in need of rest and recuperation. Van rode back to the front of the army and they passed quickly through the town.

Van led the army through the dense woods that lay to the east of Junket. She had spent almost every day in these woods, running and cavorting with the boys of the village. The tree line thinned suddenly, showing a small clearing before them. Her heart thudded heavily as a small cottage came into view.

She forced a calm façade as they approached the quiet house. While growing up here as a young boy Van had never felt welcome at the village or in this home. She shook the thin webs of memory from her mind before they could grow and consume her. There was no time for reminiscing.

A short, thin girl stopped in her tracks in the middle of the yard. She was frozen as she watched the army of men and horses descending upon her. She stepped back, one step then two. Suddenly she screamed and raced for the house, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her. Van was not concerned about the girl. She would tell Patricia about the knight and the army and Patricia would calm her.

She flung open the door and slammed it closed behind her. The sturdy door was well kept, but looking it over, Van took in the thatched roof that was once again in need of repairs and a missing shutter over the front window that had been boarded up. Van took a deep breath, signaling the men to stop.

Richard stopped his horse at her side. Van glanced at him and pointed off into the woods. “Take the horses through there...” Van’s voice left her. She knew she could not face this death alone. “Bloody hell.” She took a deep breath and turned, reluctantly, to the men. “Devon. You are in charge.”

“
Sir?” the young man nearly squeaked in alarm.

“
Take the men and the horses—”

“
Sir?” Devon protested again.

Van understood the problem and kept the anger at being questioned contained. Devon was afraid he was taking Richard’s place. It was Richard’s place as first in command to take charge when The Dark Knight was gone. Devon was probably afraid Richard would kill him. Van did not have time for this, or the time or energy to get upset about it. Devon was young and he would learn.

“
Take the horses through those trees. There is a small lake. Feed everyone and tend to the wounded.”

Devon looked terrified. Unsure of what to do, he looked from Richard to Van and did nothing. He froze.

“
Move!” Van was tired of waiting and lashed out at the hesitant man-at-arms.

Devon moved, kicking his horse into action. The steed lurched forward, running headlong and encouraging the others to move along with him. Soon she and Richard were alone in the courtyard.

“
He was afraid he was taking my place.” Richard smiled, but Van did not respond. They walked across the yard.

Van pushed against the door. Nothing. The girl apparently had not gone to Patricia. Nay, she had bolted the latch. Van pounded a gloved fist heavily on the door. “Open this door, you insolent little wench, or I will break it down.”

The door swung open. The small blue eyed girl stood holding a pitchfork out before her. Van raised one black brow, in a mix of annoyance and amusement, and took a quick step forward. The tines of the implement raked across her thick armored breast plate and she grimaced as the fork screeched along the heavy metal.

The girl winced as the impact shook her.

“
I like my women with some spirit.” Van grasped the handle of the fork and ripped it from the girl’s dainty hands, pulling her into a tight one-armed bear hug.

She stared deeply into Van’s eyes before fainting. Van stood there, just holding her limp body.

“
Is she all right, my lord?” Richard stepped to the side as Van tossed the pitchfork into the courtyard. He laughed when she snorted in disgust.

“
Do you want me to take her?”

Van glanced at the short, fat balding man who stood off to the side of the doorway.

Paul Burgess shifted nervously as he quickly added, “I told her it was all right if you came in. She would not listen.”

She flung the girl over an armor-covered shoulder like a sack of grain. “Nay, I got her. Where is my mother?”

Paul led them through the house.

Van paused in the doorway to her mother’s room. Her breath caught in her throat to see how frail her mother had become. She had been so full of life just a few months ago.

“
Van, what did you do to that poor girl? Lay her on her pallet.” Her mother’s quiet whisper resounded loudly in the silent room.

Van took a deep shaky breath and crossed the room. The girl’s head fell to the side when Van dropped her roughly onto a pallet that was laid out in the corner of the small room. Her long blonde hair spilled over her face hiding her pretty features.

“
Why did you not get in touch with me earlier?” Van asked gruffly and turned back to her mother. “I would have come sooner.”

“
Who is this?” Patricia completely ignored Van’s question as she looked at Richard. “You have never brought one of your warriors here before.”

“
Richard Devenroe, my first in command. Richard, this is my mother, Patricia.”

After the introduction Patricia added, “I should have liked you to come visit me while I was well. You have the look of a man who could give a woman great pleasure. It has been a long time. A good rutting could have done me some good.” Her breathless words shocked Van.

“
Mother!” Van’s voice cracked in surprise.

Dr. Burgess looked up. “Forgive her. She has been prone to saying strange things of late. I believe the high fever is...” Paul drew a deep shaky breath. “Well, it is confusing her. I try to just ignore the odd things she says.”

Van opened her mouth to respond but Patricia interrupted. “Oh, posh. I may not live through the night. If I cannot be impertinent now, there will never be a time I can.” Her skin was sallow, thick black circles stood out under her eyes, and her limbs trembled with every breath.

She looked so frail and helpless. Van’s heart felt like a great warrior had it in his fist and was trying to drag it forcibly out through her throat.

Much to her amazement and Patricia’s apparent delight Richard walked across the small room to her side. Pulling off his glove, he grasped her hand, pressing it to his lips.