A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,11
hoped would taste like stew. "Soon. I will come visit soon," he said answering Cynan's first proposal and ignoring mention of the exiled earl who had already attempted one landing in England to overthrow King Richard.
Cynan scoffed disgustedly. "Can you not see, man, nothing noble is going to happen to you while you are in the service of this butcher! If you remain in Richard’s service, you are going to find yourself fighting honest Welshmen--one of whom seeks the crown so he can rule Wales and England fairly."
"Enough, Cynan! I am bound in fealty to the crown, despite who wears it and I cannot abandon my post just because you like not who wears it."
Cynan started to argue but Bryant broke in. "That stew looks like ‘tis ready to eat, Gareth and if we're not careful, the aroma is going to attract a crowd." With a meaningful glance at the men scattered around, Cynan and Gareth nodded in understanding and turned their attention to eating.
Travel the third day proved no more comfortable than the first two. The late afternoon sun beat down on the entourage as it made its dusty way down the hard-packed road. The ladies drooped in their saddles, unmindful of their bedraggled state. One old man nearly tumbled off his horse as he dozed. The foot soldiers trudged wearily along, too hot and tired to even choke on the ever-present dust. Even the horses lagged, their heads bobbing wearily in time to their slow steps.
Gareth's first sense of danger was a cold prickling on his sweaty neck. Looking up sharply, he stared into the thick forest that began twenty or thirty paces off to the left. Glancing to the other side of the road, he saw no threat: the road fell away to the sharp bank of the river. Turning back to the forest he squinted his eyes, trying to see into the near-total darkness. Nothing. He looked at the soldiers around him. They plodded steadily along, but he noticed that the group had spread out in a long, broken chain. The nearest group of men, which included the king, was far ahead. The procession’s lead horses were so far ahead as to be completely out of sight. Turning to Bryant, he whispered, "Do you feel anything strange about this place?"
"What do you mean?"
"I know not. I just have this feeling that this is an ideal spot for an ambush."
"Who would ambush us?" Cynan broke in.
"Your friend Henry," Gareth replied.
Cynan looked as if he was about to say something and then paused. Slowly shaking his head he said, "No, I don't think the timing is right. Besides, we would have heard something first. Both Bryant and I have sworn to follow your father into battle."
"My father in battle? Sweet Christ!" Looking around, Gareth quickly lowered his voice again. "Since when has he cared about wars more than the ruttings of his flock?" Before either man could answer, he continued. "Never mind that now. How would you even know if these were Tudor's men? You two have been with me the past month. An entire war could have been planned and you two would know nothing about it."
"He's right, Cynan, we'd have no way of knowing if we should fight for or against them."
"Just a minute,” Cynan interrupted. “For or against who? We are working ourselves up over another of Gareth's 'eerie feelings,' are we not? Now here is the plan: if there are just ghosts in these woods, we'll fight 'em off. But if there are goblins too, I say we run for it." Before he could laugh at his own joke, a blood curdling war cry pierced the quiet air.
"By Saint Dafydd, Gareth was finally right!" Cynan gasped.
Confusion spread through the dazed ranks as men scrambled to position themselves in front of Richard and his retinue. When Gareth moved to mount Isrid, Cynan grabbed his arm. "You must wait, Gareth, until we can determine who is attacking."
"No,‘tis you who must wait. I have work to do." Gareth grabbed the reins, but paused to look at his friends before spurring Isrid on. Something he saw in their eyes made him grit his teeth and say, "Alright! You two try to take cover. See if you can retreat back down the road and duck into the forest. Who ever this is should not expect to find you there."
Cynan grinned at Gareth as Bryant tugged on his sleeve, urging him back down the dusty road.