A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,13

his head was free, the horse bit into the man's shoulder, sending blood pouring down his arm.

Meanwhile, a battle rage Gareth had never before felt seemed to seep into his eyes along with the sweat and blood from a cut on his brow. Possessed of strength he didn't think he had left, he pulled his sword arm free at the same time he swung Isrid around to confront the armed man. His opponent was momentarily frozen with surprise at the unexpected move but Gareth didn't pause as he brought his sword around to stab at his opponent. In a disconnected part of his brain, Gareth marveled at the feel of his sword in his hand--it felt as light as a feather, as supple as a whip. Wheeling Isrid around again, he did not even feel the blade that sliced along his leg, but instead used the injured limb to kick the blade's wielder in the face. Gareth's final opponent stood immobile, staring past Gareth's shoulder and Gareth thought he was going to have an easy kill when he heard a whirring sound and turned in time to see a large stone leave a leather sling. As if in a dream, Gareth saw the missile coming toward him, but--as in a dream--he felt he was moving through water. Suddenly, time sped up as the rock raced towards his face and cracked him soundly on the side of the head. All he saw after that was the hard-packed dirt of the road as it rushed up to meet him.

***

The last rays of sunlight were fading from the sky when Gareth slowly regained consciousness. When he was able to pry his eyes open, he saw the fuzzy features of Cynan and Bryant. Slowly sitting up, he rubbed the lump under the blood-clotted hair on the side of his head. He was still in the middle of the road and his mouth was coated with dust. Spitting vociferously he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing onto Bryant when he wobbled.

"Where's--" he spat another mouthful of dirt and his voice sounded like a bullfrog's to his own ears. "Where's Isrid."

"Somewhere in these accursed woods," said Cynan. "He stayed near you after you fell off in the fray--"

"I did not fall off!" he said too loudly. His head threatened to split like a frostbitten cabbage.

"--and only bolted when some bastard tried to mount him."

"I did not fall off. And if you had taken a blow like that one, you'd not be troubling me so."

Before Cynan could respond, they heard someone approaching through the forest. Trying to see in the rapidly fading light, the three men drew their swords.

"Thank God!" said Bryant when Gareth's horse stuck his nose out of the thick clump of trees.

Gareth stumbled over to Isrid and leaned heavily on his horse's neck. "Where is everyone else?"

"You mean those who lived? They are no doubt at Haddon Hall by now. Of course, a few men were not as lucky as you and they will not be rising from this God-forsaken road," said Cynan.

Gareth tried to scan the scene of the fight, but the moon had not risen and it was so dark he could barely discern the outlines of his friends much less the carnage in the road. "And the attackers?"

"They went up the road," Bryant said, gesturing in the direction Richard's troops had come from.

"We'd best be joining the living in Haddon Hall, then," Gareth said, still feeling as if he were about to lose his balance at any moment.

Neither Cynan or Bryant spoke for a moment. "We are not continuing with Richard's court," said Cynan.

"What? Why not?"

"We are returning to Wales," said Bryant. "We want you to come with us. We--"

Cynan interrupted, "Those men who attacked were Woodvilles."

"How do you know?"

"Because we were hiding in the woods, if you'll remember. We heard them talking after Richard got away."

"Meant they to kill the king?" Gareth asked incredulously. He had not thought Richard's sister-in-law, mother to Lady Elizabeth and the missing princes, would have dared try regicide.

"No," Bryant said before Cynan could speak. "They only sought to win Lady Elizabeth free. I would wager one of the women who fled north on this road was Elizabeth herself."

"But why? She was in no danger."

"Only in danger of being wed to Richard," Cynan said.

"That is ridiculous!" Gareth broke out. "That would be incestuous!" Although it was pitch black, in the silence following his cry, Gareth could easily picture each man's expression. Cynan's eyebrows were no doubt