Medieval Master Swordsmen(93)

Rhys didn’t recognize the knight, nor did Rod. Rhys was the only one armed and he unsheathed his broadsword and charged forward, intercepting the warrior. He blocked the man’s path from coming any further.

“Announce yourself, knight,” he commanded.

The knight’s visor was down, but he lifted it to show his slightly apprehensive face. He then lifted his hand in greeting.

“My name is Sir Edward Radcliffe,” he said. “I am looking for Rhys du Bois.”

Rhys didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he lifted his visor to look the man in the eye. “I do not know you.”

Radcliffe wrestled with his excited, exhausted charger. “I have just come from Ludlow Castle. I must see du Bois on an extremely urgent matter. Is he here?”

With mention of the castle, Rhys’ eyes flew open wide and he was suddenly bailing from the charger. But Rod was quicker; he raced to Radcliffe’s horse and took the knight down, and the horse with him, in a brutal tackle. Rhys hurled over the side of the downed charger and landed on Edward, and the three knights wrestled on the ground as Radcliffe’s charger scrambled to its feet and ran off. Rhys reached up and ripped the helm from Edward’s head, almost taking his scalp off with it.

“Who in the hell are you?” he demanded. “What do you want?”

Edward was more angry than frightened. “I told you who I am,” he snapped. “And if you kill me, you’ll never know the news I bear about the Lady Elizabeau. Where is du Bois?”

Rhys didn’t think he could be any more frantic and furious than he already was, but he was wrong. “I am du Bois,” he snarled, grabbing Edward around the throat. “What about Elizabeau? Tell me now or I swear I will rip your head from your shoulders.”

By this time, David and Christopher had heard the shouting and were bailing out of the keep with swords drawn. They could see Rhys and Rod on the ground with an unknown knight and they hastened to make their way towards them. But if Rhys knew they were coming, he did not acknowledge them; he was completely focused on Radcliffe as if he was a wolf who had just trapped his quarry. The look in the brilliant blue eyes was frightening.

But Edward gazed steadily back at him, inspecting him. “So you’re…?”

Rhys shook him hard enough to snap his head. “I said I was. What about Elizabeau?”

At this point, Rod put his hand on his brother’s wrists as he gripped Edward around the neck. “Rhys,” he hissed. “Ease down, man. Let him speak.”

Rhys was beside himself and fading fast. He struggled to keep his wits about him but the mention of Elizabeau’s name had him reeling. Still, he heard his brother’s soft plea and he stiffly released his grasp around Edward’s neck. It helped that Rod had peeled his fingers away else he would probably not have moved. Edward rubbed a hand along his neck.

“She is being held at Ludlow Castle to the north,” he said. “Two days ago, we received a missive from King John. It was the lady’s death warrant. Tomorrow at dawn, she will be put to the block. I have come to tell you this so that you may do all you can to prevent this from happening. Time is almost at an end for her. You must help her.”

Rhys just stared at him. Rod was so stunned that he couldn’t even draw a breath, his horrified gaze turning to his brother. But Rhys was frozen in place, turned to stone by those fateful words. He hovered there, unmoving, unblinking. Then suddenly, his hands went to his head and he fell off of Edward, hissing to himself.

“God, no,” he muttered. “Dear God, please no. This cannot be. This cannot be.”

Edward sat up as Rhys slid off. Rod was still beside Radcliffe, half-restraining him, but at the moment the only thing the two knights could focus on was Rhys. Rod watched his brother through horrified eyes; the man had been brittle for months and he seriously wondered if this news would throw him completely over the edge. He was sitting on the ground with his hands on his head, muttering to himself. By this time, Christopher and David and the others had joined them, hovering in a semi-circle around those on the ground, swords half-raised and wondering what was going on. They hadn’t heard Edward’s softly-uttered news but they clearly saw Rhys’s stunned reaction.

“What is it?” Christopher demanded. “What’s wrong?”

Rod spoke. “This knight has come from Ludlow. King John has signed Lady Elizabeau’s death warrant and she is slated to face the block tomorrow at dawn.”

Christopher’s expression didn’t change as he slowly sheathed his sword. His gaze moved from Rod to Edward and back to Rhys; he could only imagine how this news had toppled the man. The anguish was obvious. As he watched Rhys slowly lower his arms and struggle to stand, he looked back to Edward.