Medieval Master Swordsmen(82)

Both Christopher and Rhys turned to see Conrad entering the dim, warm stable. With him was one of his generals, the tall blond man who seemed to command the rest. But he stood back as Conrad moved into the barn and smiled timidly at the men. He knew that he was intruding but he also knew that he must. He had known for months about the situation between his intended, whom he had never even met, and this colossal knight with the brooding countenance. He had, in fact, worked with Rhys for the past three months and had found him to be the most efficient knight he had ever seen. Never once did he blame the man for his lady’s abduction. None of them did. In fact, he felt a great deal of sympathy for him and it had taken him a very long time to summon the courage to speak about it. Now seemed to be that time.

“I am sorry for intruding,” he said in his thick accent. “But I must sprechen sie. Speak. Ich muss sprechen.”

Christopher spoke first. “What about, my lord?”

Conrad was looking at Rhys. “The lady,” he said. “I… I feel the same as Sir Rhys does, only I feel it for someone else.”

Rhys struggled to get past his sense of animosity for the man; it was difficult to look at him and not feel overwhelming bitterness and hatred. “What do you mean?”

Conrad took a few timid steps towards Rhys, his pale face serious. “I know that you are in love with Lady Elizabeau,” he spoke such poor English that it was difficult to understand him. “I only wish to help so that we are all happy. I am in love with your sister.”

That admission propelled Rhys off the back of the horse and he stood straight, his brilliant blue eyes blazing. Startled by his reaction, Christopher put a hand against the man’s chest to prevent him from charging the frail prince.

“You’re in love with my…?” Rhys’ shock turned to rage. “Why in the hell would you tell me that? I swear, by all that is holy, if you have taken advantage of her, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Conrad could see that his admission wasn’t having the desired effect. He was terrified at the man’s huffing reaction and he took several steps back, putting his hands up in an attempt to ease him.

“Ich habe sie nicht berührt,” he said hurriedly, then swallowed and struggled to translate. “I… I have not touched her. I would not do that. I tell you all because I feel for Carys as you feel for Elizabeau. I do not want to marry Elizabeau. I want to marry Carys.”

Rhys’ huffing came to a strangled and abrupt halt. Even Christopher looked at the young prince in surprise. Rhys stared at the man as his fury began to die.

“You want to marry my sister?” he repeated. Then he looked confused. “You are not making any sense. How is this helping?”

Conrad did not speak plain enough English to adequately get his point across. He sighed with frustration, wringing his hands as he tried to think through his words.

“I am told that Lady Elizabeau has red hair,” he said.

Rhys was even more confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Does she?”

The knight eyed him, nodding slowly. “She does.”

“And your sister has red hair.”

“Aye, she does. And your point?”

Conrad sighed again and began making odd, roundabout gestures with his hands. “Wir schalten sie. Schalter. Change.”

Rhys still wasn’t following but, suddenly, the light of understanding went on in Christopher’s eyes. He entered the conversation with a manner that was both suspicious and disbelieving.

“Are you suggesting that we switch the women, my lord?” he asked.

Conrad looked at him and made the strange hand gestures again. “Schalter. Change. Trade.”

Christopher looked struck. “Are you saying you want to exchange the Lady Elizabeau for the Lady Carys?”

Conrad nodded so hard that his blond hair flipped over his eyes. “Ja, ja. I will marry Carys and he will marry Elizabeau. They both have red hair so no one will know different.”

Christopher’s jaw dropped. “You must be mad.”

Conrad looked hurt. “Nein, my lord. Not many people have seen Lady Elizabeau. Not many people have seen Carys. No one will know different since they both have red hair.”

Until this point, Rhys was standing in complete shock. He could not believe what he was hearing. His first reaction was the same as Christopher’s, but as he thought on it, he suddenly began to feel as if the heavens were opening up and the blinding light of God was shining directly upon him, giving a clear understanding of what was being suggested. It was a brilliant scheme. It gave him hope. Still, he could hardly comprehend it.