A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,152

hear, and you'll not be frightening this lady who's come to see me!" Osgood swung around to face Elena and wavered on his feet. Grasping his head with one hand and the wall with the other, he paused for several moments. "Oh," he moaned, "I moved too quickly."

"Here," Elena said, grabbing his elbow and leading him towards the stool. As she moved the inebriated guard the few steps to his seat, she threw a meaningful glare over her shoulder to Gareth and mouthed the words, Be quiet!

She maneuvered Osgood onto his stool and then picked up the half-empty tankard. "Here, darling, take another sip. It will clear your head."

Osgood obediently gulped the wine and in a move amazingly fast for his increasing condition, scooped Elena onto his lap, his fingers digging firmly into her waist.

"Now, pretty lady, let's get to the 'knowing' part."

Striving to maintain her composure and prevent her revulsion from showing--the man smelled as if he slept in a sty with the hogs and what was left of his teeth were grey--Elena braced her hands against his chest so that he could not pull her closer.

"Why don't you have some more wine? I picked it out especially for you."

"I'm already half-way to drunk. Are ye trying to make me pass out?" His foul breath was hot in her face and Elena felt a draught of queasiness pass through her.

"Of course not, my dear one. It's just that I don't know when next I'll be able to bring you such a fine wine and I want you to enjoy every drop of this one."

"Well then," he said and belched, making no effort to divert the foul fumes from washing over Elena. "'Tis only fitting that you have some of this vintage. Here."

"No really, I--"

"Here," Osgood said more forcefully and Elena took the tankard, fearful what the drunken man would do if she protested further. Tipping the heavy vessel, she allowed the wine to touch her lips and then quickly lowered the tankard.

"You're right. This is delicious."

"Surely that's not all you're going to have," Osgood protested, shoving the tankard back to her. His clumsiness increasing, he sloshed wine over the edge of the pitcher and down the front of her dress.

"Oh!" Elena exclaimed. She longed to slap the man's face and then dump the contents of the tankard in his lap. Instead she said as sweetly as she could through clenched teeth, "I am not nearly as strong or large as you are and wine affects me dreadfully!"

"Good!" he leered. Then, as if suddenly struck by a thought, he leaned back and studied her face. "Ye know, here we are gettin' to know each other and I don't even know yer name."

Elena considered giving him her real name--after all, the man was no doubt too drunk to remember what she looked like, much less her name, but inspiration and caution struck and she said, "Catherine. Catherine is my name."

"And a beauty it is, too," Osgood toasted with another swig of wine. He lowered the tankard, peeked in it, and declared, "There's no point in leaving such a small amount, is there?" Elena shook her head, but she doubted if his question required a response since he was already tipping the tankard to drain the last drops of wine. Setting the pitcher on the floor, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and belched again. To Elena's great relief, this belch was mostly concealed behind his hand.

"Now, let's get down to knowin' each other," he said and wrapped his arms around her more tightly.

Elena panicked. He appeared nowhere near the verge of passing out and his behavior was rapidly getting beyond her control. Standing and twisting abruptly, she tried to disentangle herself from his grasp. His reaction, much slower than a few minutes before, was to grasp for her shoulder, but instead of grabbing the fabric of her gown, his fingers became entangled in the delicate necklace she wore. The fine chain snapped and slipped unheeded to the ground as she pulled back abruptly. She whirled around in time to see Osgood waver on his stool before landing on the ground with a grunt. The drunken man seemed surprised to find himself amongst the filthy straw on the cold stone floor, and unable to push himself up. Elena darted around him and snatched up the heavy pewter tankard. Inspired by fear and conscious that at any moment another guard might come to relieve Osgood, she swung around and