A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,134

and between people's heads, Gareth could see the prospective bride, a young girl of perhaps no more than fifteen or sixteen, fair and blond and appearing none-too-eager to wed her fiancée. Gareth took a step sideways to better see the young man. He was young and good looking enough with broad shoulders and a noble brow. Gareth could not imagine why the girl should be so reluctant looking. It was not as if she were having to marry an ugly old ogre like Brackley.

Brackley. Gareth searched the hall for him, but the crush of people was too great to pick him out. Gareth ground his teeth. So consumed was he in his own worries since receiving his summons this morning that he had given no thought to the horrible fate Elena was facing. He prayed that Richard would not press for the wedding to be performed before Henry Tudor landed. He swore to himself that he would seek out the repulsive man on the battlefield and ensure his death that Elena might be free of the man for good.

As the royal high chancellor called him forth before the king, Gareth prayed that he would live to see the battlefield. He held his back straight, his head high and forced his eyes to remain on the man who wore the crown. When he had entered the king's presence, he presented a low and formal bow. "Your Majesty," he said clearly, bending to one knee where he waited with bowed head for Richard's permission to stand.

It did not come immediately. Instead, he remained on his knee while the hall quieted. Still Richard did not speak. Gareth felt a glimmer of sweat coat his brow. This did not bode well.

"Sir Gareth ap Morgan," the king boomed. "You have been absent my court for some time and in the presence of one of my ladies. I have heard report of your story but I would have you tell me in person, that I might judge the veracity of your tale."

Still in his bent position, Gareth said, "Of course, Your Majesty. I am confident you will judge it to be true as I have always been a true and loyal knight to yourself and to England."

"Do not coddle me, man!" Gareth wished he had not spoken. Richard was obviously in one of his paranoid rages. "You disappeared from my ranks at the same time we were attacked by brigands--brigands who may very well have been supporters of that bastard Tudor. Furthermore, you disappear with one of my ladies-in-waiting who is the fiancée of one of my closest allies, Earl Brackley. You admit to having traveled alone with her, having given no thought to acquiring an appropriate escort, even though you must have passed several manors and not less than three convents! You drag her to Wales and then return her here as you please when you are done with her with no regard for her station or her good name! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Gareth thought that such a vocal recitation of his report would surely do more harm to Elena’s name, but he said only, "Your Majesty--"

"Stand up man. Do not cower before me!"

Gareth flushed as he stood. He held his posture painfully erect and his voice was tight when he answered. "I know not if the brigands who attacked us on the road were supporters of Henry Tudor. I do know that I dispatched two of them to their maker before I myself was injured and lost consciousness. Surely someone amongst the group saw me battling to protect you and yours."

"Aye, my liege," came Sir Jasper's voice across the hall. "He fought well and nobly that day and killed by my count four opponents, not two."

Richard's gaze darted past Gareth's shoulder to the knight striding down the aisle. When Sir Jasper came to stand by Gareth's right side, the king studied him intently for several seconds before returning his glare to the younger knight. Gareth was torn between the feeling of relief that Sir Jasper was defending his case, and the ever-present guilt that was reminding him that he would no doubt be facing his present champion on a battlefield soon. With a strength of will born of the realization that his life depended on Richard believing his partial-truths, Gareth suppressed the guilt and instead concentrated on making his story as believable as possible.

Tilting his head towards Sir Jasper, he continued, "I killed four men that day and was wounded