A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,143

a narrow line of anger. He gripped the fur edges of his mantle with knuckles that were white. "Who was it?"

"I believe I heard him referred to as Gareth. Gareth ap Morgan."

Sir Jasper gasped and Richard looked at him sharply. "Does this surprise you, Sir Knight?"

The older man cleared his throat. "Indeed it does, Your Majesty. Sir Gareth has proven himself to be nothing other than the most loyal and obedient of your knights. And if he were a rebel, why would he return here, to your service? Why would he not simply remain with the other rebels and await Henry Tudor's landing?"

"Perhaps he hopes to learn our battle plans, how many men we train, what our weaknesses are," the king bit out. "I will have his head for this."

"Your Majesty, I must protest. At least give Sir Gareth the chance to defend himself and his honor."

"Why should I?" In his impatience, Richard slipped out of the use of the royal "We," and his hand had moved to the decorative sword he wore on his belt.

Sir Jasper stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Because, sire, these men are former mercenaries, newly come to your service. What assurances have we that they speak the truth? Perhaps they only hope to gain your favor?"

Richard studied his knight for several seconds before nodding briefly. "Very well, let us return to the feast hall. We will get to the bottom of this now."

"Your Majesty?" Sir Jasper said.

"What is it now, man? You try Our patience with your constant interruptions!"

"I beg your forgiveness, but would it not be better to wait until the feast is over and the people have dispersed? Surely Sir Gareth's service has earned him that much respect before he is accused of treason."

Richard's voice was low and cutting when he answered. "Surely Our service as king has earned Us the respect of knowing immediately if one of Our knights has betrayed Us."

Sir Jasper bowed and said, "Of course, Your Majesty."

The knight and the four soldiers followed Richard back into the feast hall where fruit pies were just being served. Richard strode to the front of the raised dais on which the head table sat. Within seconds, all voices in the hall were silenced. "Where is Sir Gareth ap Morgan?" he boomed.

Behind the fireplace where he was thinking of Elena, Gareth started, recognizing the king's voice. Dashing around the great stone pillar, he called out, "Here, Your Majesty."

"Attend Us."

Gareth rushed to the front of the hall. There was no award the king would be bestowing, no honor he had earned. His pulse doubled its pace and he felt all his muscles tighten with tension when he spotted the four mercenaries he had twice before run into, the last time being in the streets of Aberstwyth. There could only be one reason the king was calling him forward now. Bowing low before the king, Gareth said as loudly and as confidently as he could, "Your Majesty?"

"Sir Knight, have you sworn fealty to Us?"

"Yes, my king."

"And will you swear it to Us again? Tonight? Now?"

Gareth paused for the briefest moment. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Richard held out the hand with his signet ring and Gareth knelt and took it in his own damp palms, reciting his vow of fealty to the king and to England. Before he could rise and back away, hoping that was all the king desired of him, Richard stopped him. "And now, Sir Gareth, We would ask another question of you."

Gareth waited, his nerves and muscles tightening in tandem. "Your Majesty?"

Richard looked down his nose at his knight. "Have you betrayed Us and your vows of fealty by attending a meeting of traitors in Wales?"

Gareth clenched his teeth tightly, trying to steady himself, desperately trying to think of something to say that would save his life. "I told Your Majesty that I was only at my father's keep in Northern Wales."

"We remember very clearly what you have told Us, Sir Gareth. But you see, these men here," Richard gestured to the four rough men who stood to the side, "claim they ran into you in Aberstwyth, several days travel from your father's keep, is it not? And, coincidentally, where We have recently discovered a meeting occurred to plan aid to the Tudor dog! What have you to respond?"

"I can only suppose they are mistaken in identifying me as that man."

"Gareth is of a common height and coloring for a Welshman, Your Majesty," interjected Sir Jasper. "It could easily happen."

"Were there only

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