A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,14

raised mockingly, arms crossed over his chest as he stared unblinking in Gareth's general direction. Bryant was most likely biting his lower lip and staring at his toe scuffing the ground. He hated when Cynan and Gareth argued, even though nothing had ever come between their friendship.

Gareth finally broke the silence. "King Richard would not do such a thing." But even to his own ears he did not sound very convinced.

"Did that bump on your head loosen you of all sense or does your 'knightly duty' prevent you from doing what is right?"

Before Gareth could respond to Cynan's taunt, Bryant said, "At least come back to Wales and see your father. He's been awfully lonely since you left."

Gareth took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. No doubt the crack in his head had allowed what common sense he had to leak onto the parched dirt of the road. "All right. I will go with you." He started to add that he wouldn't hear anymore arguments or accusations against Richard, but something stopped him. He was suddenly curious as to what his father would say about Henry Tudor.

Cynan and Bryant broke into relieved laughter. "What an adventure we shall have!" Cynan yelled as he picked his friend up in a bear hug which made Gareth's sore head pound.

"Put me down you oaf, or you will be carrying me over the Cambrian Mountains yourself!" When he had both feet on the ground he asked, "So where do we camp, oh fearless rebel?"

"'Tis too dark to travel far. Think you it will be safe if we just move into the forest?"

Gareth chewed his upper lip. "'Tis the best we can do, at least until the moon rises."

The three men made their way into the dense forest. By the time they reached a small clearing, the moon had risen, illuminating the landscape. Gareth allowed his friends to administer rudimentary medical care to his injured head and leg, gritting his teeth as their clumsy fingers cleaned and bandaged his wounds. Afterwards, they set about setting up a makeshift camp. They spread out their bedrolls and were about eat a meager supper of dried beef when they heard a woman's piercing scream. Grabbing up their weapons, they dashed back to the road. Bursting out of the thick copse of trees they stared in amazement. They had expected to find a woman beset by highway bandits or wolves. What they saw was a woman sitting on her horse in the middle of the empty road. Well, not quite empty, Gareth thought. Now that the moon was up, he could clearly see the ten or twelve dead bodies that were the result of the earlier melee.

"My lady, what ails you?" Gareth called as he approached her.

The woman turned, startled by the approach of three unknown men. She was about to scream again when Gareth held up his hand. "Fear not, my lady. I am Sir Gareth of King Richard's contingent. You are quite safe from harm."

"Where is the king? I am part of his retinue," she said in what Gareth thought was, despite its quaver, a surprisingly haughty tone of voice.

"We suspect he is in Haddon Hall, my lady."

"Then you must take me to him."

Gareth looked at Cynan and Bryant before turning back to the lady. "I am afraid that is not possible my lady. But we will get you to safety come first light. For now, we are encamped not far from here."

Approaching her horse, he offered her a hand down. She ignored it and asked, "Why can you not escort me to the king now?"

"Because it is too dark to travel and the roads are dangerous this time of night," Gareth said.

The woman considered his reply before allowing him to help her down. She was no doubt bone weary and frightened.

As Gareth lifted her down, he tried to determine if he knew her, but her veil covered most of her face. She hadn't indicated she knew him when he introduced himself, so he could only speculate at which lady-in-waiting the three of them would play nursemaid to until they were able to leave her at an abbey, or perhaps one of the border lord's keeps.

"How came you to be back here, my lady? Did you not escape with the other women?"

The woman hesitated and Gareth wondered if she, too, had been hit on the head. Finally she answered, “I was with the others, but my horse bolted and I became separated from the group." For some