A KNIGHT'S TALE:
FOREVER LOVE
By Wendy
Part Four
Still reeling from the burning imprint of her father's hand on her cheek, Jocelyn feared her legs would give out from under her as she turned away unable to stand her father's reproaching glare any longer. She had quickly realized that in confessing to carrying William's child, Jocelyn had not changed her father's intentions at all and she would be soon forced to marry Count Adhemar against her will.
"Please," Jocelyn's voice trembled as she found strength to turn and beg once more for her release from the Duke's demands. "Father, Adhemar does not love me. Please, do not make me do this."
Duke Recene could barely look at his daughter, her exposed betrayal hardening his heart as each moment passed. "It is already done. Count Adhemar is being informed of my decision as we speak and by the way, since when does love have anything to do with marriages of nobility?" He replied indifferently. "You dare admonish me? When you have dishonored me by lying with a man without the sanctity of God, risking the House of Recene by carrying a child sired by some mere commoner cloaked in the guise of a knight."
"I risk?" Jocelyn repeated, "I don't understand."
"No, you wouldn't," Recene sighed as he turned away. "Your Uncle has just been waiting for me to die, waiting like a starving crow, ready to pick whatever he can get off my decaying bones. A male child was my only hope to stop that from happening, but when your mother died giving birth to you and I sired no other child, I had to place all my faith in you to acquire a marriage of station to protect the 'House'. Now, if you were to marry this 'Sir William', everything we have left will be lost. My brother will see to it that your marriage is inspected and he will annul any claim you have."
"Father, William was knighted by Prince Edward himself, the future King and it was the Prince who said that William's knighthood was not to be contested. You are safe from any claim that your brother may demand. But even if it should happen, William will see that I want for nothing. I do not need the House."
Facing the huge, oak mantelpiece, the Duke slammed a fist against it, "Never!" He snarled through clenched teeth. "Never, will that wastrel be allowed to get his hands on the 'House'. He will gamble away everything we have left until the House of Recene is no more. I will make sure this house is burnt to the ground with me in it, before I let that happen."
AKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTATK
As Seamere rode toward Count Adhemar's estate, a smug smile began to creep over the steward's face. While he was under strict orders to relay only his master's consent to Count Adhemar's proposal, the Valet was sure, the Count would be far more interested in the 'additional' information he could offer.
He knew that life was about to change dramatically for him, but by exactly what weight of gold, that was yet to be determined. He could almost feel the heaviness of the glittering coins weighing down the belt of his breeches as they hung from his money pouch. As he entered the boundaries of the Count's lands, Seamere's smile broadened even more, 'yes, indeed, life was about to change forever.'
AKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKT
Germaine ducked. This time he survived the silver goblet thrown in his direction, his master's aim seemingly as straight as the lance that failed to hit its target at the world games not that long ago.
Even though he would never admit it out-loud, the valet still obtained some enjoyment in the remembrance of his Lordship's last match, where Adhemar met not only his equal, but also his better in jousting, even if it meant the Count was now in a perpetual bad mood.
The valet had been unable to do anything at the time, but stand by and watch as the Count secretly ordered his lance tipped, hoping for the maximum damage he could inflict on the newly knighted Sir William. When the tipped lance found its target, snapping as it speared the young man in the right shoulder, Germaine, along with most of those in attendance, had thought it over for the brave young knight, but without armor or shield, he had continued.
Germaine had never seen anything like it. The roar of the ground as they chanted the young man's name was deafening, yet as the horses snorted and reared, ready to charge, one voice could be heard above all others, Sir William's.
With his untamed blonde hair now free from its protective helmet and with his pierced armor gone from his body, William's only defense was the lance that was roped to his injured arm. Urging his mount forward as if backed by an army of well-armed men, the knight had rode defiantly toward his destiny, shouting so heaven could hear, 'William!'
It was a sight the valet would remember until his dying day. As his Count sprawled in the dirt, lay unseated and ignored, a Prince stood to join the spectators in applauding the chivalry of a Thatcher's son.
"More beer, you idiot!" Adhemar snapped.
"Yes, milord," Germaine answered through clenched teeth as he bowed and made his way to the kitchen to replace the goblet.
Still reeling from the ignominy of not only his failure to recapture the championship, but the humiliation of losing to a Thatcher's son, Adhemar, now in disgrace after the tipping incident at the games, spent most of his time planning how to destroy Prince Edward's new favorite. Unwilling to risk the wrath of the future king by again being seen to visibly attack 'Sir William', Adhemar knew he would have to be more subtle if he was to make the usurper pay. His choice had been an easy one, what could be subtler than to legally take what the former-valet wanted more than any thing in his world, the Lady Jocelyn.
Adhemar had set his sights on Duke Recene's daughter long ago, but William Thatcher's interest in her had only heightened his need to make her his property as soon as possible. He knew from the county records that Lady Jocelyn would not come with a huge dowry, but her wealth or lack of was of no consequence to him any more. All Adhemar needed now was the satisfaction that he had something what 'Sir William' could never have.
"Milord?"
Called away from his silent scheming, Adhemar turned to see Germaine standing nervously in the doorway empty handed. "My Ale?"
"It is coming, milord, but first, there is a messenger to see you."
"Who sent him?" A curious Adhemar asked.
"It is Seamere, Duke Recene's valet," Germaine replied with a bow of his head. "Shall I just take a message, sir?"
Expecting good news, Adhemar smiled, "No, send him in." Dismissing his servant with a wave of his hand, he added, "And don't forget my ale."
"Yes, milord," Germaine replied as he placed a hand to the left side of his chest and bowed, backing out of the room.
Following Germaine's lead, Seamere's anticipation was becoming harder to hide as wondered how much he should ask for the information that he carried. How much gold would buy his freedom and give him a life that he felt he deserved? He was sure that whatever amount was eventually agreed upon, Count Adhemar would find the money well worth spent.
"Milord waits for you within," Germaine gestured to the open doorway of Adhemar's study.
Taking a deep breath, Seamere entered the room, bowing as he cited Duke's message, "I bring you greetings from milord, Duke Recene. He hopes Count Adhemar is of good health on this day of great importance to you both."
Adhemar nodded, accepting the scribe's words, "He is. Your message?"
Standing to attention, Seamere put on his most gracious smile, "Sir, milord wishes me to advise you that he has accepted your proposal with much good will, and offers you the hand of his daughter Lady Jocelyn."
"It is done?" Adhemar asked.
"It is agreed. The Duke has told me to impart to you that the marriage will be performed as soon as possible," Seamere said before adding. "She is yours if you 'still' want her, milord."
"If I still want her?" Adhemar asked, the messenger's words and demeanor suddenly striking the Count as odd. "Why wouldn't I?"
Feeling more comfortable with the information he carried, Seamere relaxed somewhat as he began to play his hand. "Sir, I am but a humble messenger, a valet to milord the Duke. I am a poor man by 'any' standards, one that is not 'free' to speak my mind as I might otherwise wish to."
"A poor man, I see." Adhemar knew a greedy man when he saw one, and before him he saw one of the worst kind. Willing to sell anything, and anyone to get what they wanted, not the he would complain it seemed that the Duke's manservant had something to sell. "What would it take to set your tongue 'free'?"
"The pain of my betrayal is harsh, milord, and therefore not cheap." Seamere frowned as he shook his head sadly.
"Twenty gold pieces enough ease your pain?"
"For normal betrayal, twenty would be sufficient, but..."
"Thirty then,"
"Milord you are too kind." Seamere grinned as he bowed.
"Then earn you thirty pieces and speak man!"
Not willing to push his luck any further, Seamere coward under the Count's threatening glare. "Milord, the Duke does you a great wrong. He offers his daughter pure and chaste as newly opened bloom, when in fact she has already been 'plucked' so to speak."
Seamere took an involuntary step back, but was not fast enough as Adhemar lurch forward to grab hold of well worn linen shirt and pulled him toward the enraged man.
"Lady Jocelyn has laid with a man?" Adhemar demanded his face only inches from the now terrified valet.
"Yes, she has, milord. Lady Jocelyn is with child, Sir William's child." Seamere couldn't get the information out fast enough as he struggled under the Count's iron grip.
Adhemar tightened his grip on the servant's thin clothing, wishing that it were William Thatcher that he had in his hands and not this puny excuse of a human being. "And the Duke knows of this?"
"Four people," Seamere revealed as peered about wild-eyed looking for an escape. "The Duke, Lady Jocelyn and her maid and me, sir."
"And Thatcher?" Adhemar snarled, speaking the name as if it were poison to his lips
"Lady Jocelyn had yet to tell him the news, but now cannot."
Adhemar's grip of the servant eased off a little as he contemplated the information and how it could be used to his advantaged. "You say Thatcher doesn't know about the child?"
All Seamere could do now was shake his head as he trembled under the Count's intimidating scowl.
Releasing the valet, Adhemar smiled, "You have earned you gold. Tell your master nothing more than I accept Lady Jocelyn's hand."
TBC
FOREVER LOVE
By Wendy
Part Four
Still reeling from the burning imprint of her father's hand on her cheek, Jocelyn feared her legs would give out from under her as she turned away unable to stand her father's reproaching glare any longer. She had quickly realized that in confessing to carrying William's child, Jocelyn had not changed her father's intentions at all and she would be soon forced to marry Count Adhemar against her will.
"Please," Jocelyn's voice trembled as she found strength to turn and beg once more for her release from the Duke's demands. "Father, Adhemar does not love me. Please, do not make me do this."
Duke Recene could barely look at his daughter, her exposed betrayal hardening his heart as each moment passed. "It is already done. Count Adhemar is being informed of my decision as we speak and by the way, since when does love have anything to do with marriages of nobility?" He replied indifferently. "You dare admonish me? When you have dishonored me by lying with a man without the sanctity of God, risking the House of Recene by carrying a child sired by some mere commoner cloaked in the guise of a knight."
"I risk?" Jocelyn repeated, "I don't understand."
"No, you wouldn't," Recene sighed as he turned away. "Your Uncle has just been waiting for me to die, waiting like a starving crow, ready to pick whatever he can get off my decaying bones. A male child was my only hope to stop that from happening, but when your mother died giving birth to you and I sired no other child, I had to place all my faith in you to acquire a marriage of station to protect the 'House'. Now, if you were to marry this 'Sir William', everything we have left will be lost. My brother will see to it that your marriage is inspected and he will annul any claim you have."
"Father, William was knighted by Prince Edward himself, the future King and it was the Prince who said that William's knighthood was not to be contested. You are safe from any claim that your brother may demand. But even if it should happen, William will see that I want for nothing. I do not need the House."
Facing the huge, oak mantelpiece, the Duke slammed a fist against it, "Never!" He snarled through clenched teeth. "Never, will that wastrel be allowed to get his hands on the 'House'. He will gamble away everything we have left until the House of Recene is no more. I will make sure this house is burnt to the ground with me in it, before I let that happen."
AKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTATK
As Seamere rode toward Count Adhemar's estate, a smug smile began to creep over the steward's face. While he was under strict orders to relay only his master's consent to Count Adhemar's proposal, the Valet was sure, the Count would be far more interested in the 'additional' information he could offer.
He knew that life was about to change dramatically for him, but by exactly what weight of gold, that was yet to be determined. He could almost feel the heaviness of the glittering coins weighing down the belt of his breeches as they hung from his money pouch. As he entered the boundaries of the Count's lands, Seamere's smile broadened even more, 'yes, indeed, life was about to change forever.'
AKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKTAKT
Germaine ducked. This time he survived the silver goblet thrown in his direction, his master's aim seemingly as straight as the lance that failed to hit its target at the world games not that long ago.
Even though he would never admit it out-loud, the valet still obtained some enjoyment in the remembrance of his Lordship's last match, where Adhemar met not only his equal, but also his better in jousting, even if it meant the Count was now in a perpetual bad mood.
The valet had been unable to do anything at the time, but stand by and watch as the Count secretly ordered his lance tipped, hoping for the maximum damage he could inflict on the newly knighted Sir William. When the tipped lance found its target, snapping as it speared the young man in the right shoulder, Germaine, along with most of those in attendance, had thought it over for the brave young knight, but without armor or shield, he had continued.
Germaine had never seen anything like it. The roar of the ground as they chanted the young man's name was deafening, yet as the horses snorted and reared, ready to charge, one voice could be heard above all others, Sir William's.
With his untamed blonde hair now free from its protective helmet and with his pierced armor gone from his body, William's only defense was the lance that was roped to his injured arm. Urging his mount forward as if backed by an army of well-armed men, the knight had rode defiantly toward his destiny, shouting so heaven could hear, 'William!'
It was a sight the valet would remember until his dying day. As his Count sprawled in the dirt, lay unseated and ignored, a Prince stood to join the spectators in applauding the chivalry of a Thatcher's son.
"More beer, you idiot!" Adhemar snapped.
"Yes, milord," Germaine answered through clenched teeth as he bowed and made his way to the kitchen to replace the goblet.
Still reeling from the ignominy of not only his failure to recapture the championship, but the humiliation of losing to a Thatcher's son, Adhemar, now in disgrace after the tipping incident at the games, spent most of his time planning how to destroy Prince Edward's new favorite. Unwilling to risk the wrath of the future king by again being seen to visibly attack 'Sir William', Adhemar knew he would have to be more subtle if he was to make the usurper pay. His choice had been an easy one, what could be subtler than to legally take what the former-valet wanted more than any thing in his world, the Lady Jocelyn.
Adhemar had set his sights on Duke Recene's daughter long ago, but William Thatcher's interest in her had only heightened his need to make her his property as soon as possible. He knew from the county records that Lady Jocelyn would not come with a huge dowry, but her wealth or lack of was of no consequence to him any more. All Adhemar needed now was the satisfaction that he had something what 'Sir William' could never have.
"Milord?"
Called away from his silent scheming, Adhemar turned to see Germaine standing nervously in the doorway empty handed. "My Ale?"
"It is coming, milord, but first, there is a messenger to see you."
"Who sent him?" A curious Adhemar asked.
"It is Seamere, Duke Recene's valet," Germaine replied with a bow of his head. "Shall I just take a message, sir?"
Expecting good news, Adhemar smiled, "No, send him in." Dismissing his servant with a wave of his hand, he added, "And don't forget my ale."
"Yes, milord," Germaine replied as he placed a hand to the left side of his chest and bowed, backing out of the room.
Following Germaine's lead, Seamere's anticipation was becoming harder to hide as wondered how much he should ask for the information that he carried. How much gold would buy his freedom and give him a life that he felt he deserved? He was sure that whatever amount was eventually agreed upon, Count Adhemar would find the money well worth spent.
"Milord waits for you within," Germaine gestured to the open doorway of Adhemar's study.
Taking a deep breath, Seamere entered the room, bowing as he cited Duke's message, "I bring you greetings from milord, Duke Recene. He hopes Count Adhemar is of good health on this day of great importance to you both."
Adhemar nodded, accepting the scribe's words, "He is. Your message?"
Standing to attention, Seamere put on his most gracious smile, "Sir, milord wishes me to advise you that he has accepted your proposal with much good will, and offers you the hand of his daughter Lady Jocelyn."
"It is done?" Adhemar asked.
"It is agreed. The Duke has told me to impart to you that the marriage will be performed as soon as possible," Seamere said before adding. "She is yours if you 'still' want her, milord."
"If I still want her?" Adhemar asked, the messenger's words and demeanor suddenly striking the Count as odd. "Why wouldn't I?"
Feeling more comfortable with the information he carried, Seamere relaxed somewhat as he began to play his hand. "Sir, I am but a humble messenger, a valet to milord the Duke. I am a poor man by 'any' standards, one that is not 'free' to speak my mind as I might otherwise wish to."
"A poor man, I see." Adhemar knew a greedy man when he saw one, and before him he saw one of the worst kind. Willing to sell anything, and anyone to get what they wanted, not the he would complain it seemed that the Duke's manservant had something to sell. "What would it take to set your tongue 'free'?"
"The pain of my betrayal is harsh, milord, and therefore not cheap." Seamere frowned as he shook his head sadly.
"Twenty gold pieces enough ease your pain?"
"For normal betrayal, twenty would be sufficient, but..."
"Thirty then,"
"Milord you are too kind." Seamere grinned as he bowed.
"Then earn you thirty pieces and speak man!"
Not willing to push his luck any further, Seamere coward under the Count's threatening glare. "Milord, the Duke does you a great wrong. He offers his daughter pure and chaste as newly opened bloom, when in fact she has already been 'plucked' so to speak."
Seamere took an involuntary step back, but was not fast enough as Adhemar lurch forward to grab hold of well worn linen shirt and pulled him toward the enraged man.
"Lady Jocelyn has laid with a man?" Adhemar demanded his face only inches from the now terrified valet.
"Yes, she has, milord. Lady Jocelyn is with child, Sir William's child." Seamere couldn't get the information out fast enough as he struggled under the Count's iron grip.
Adhemar tightened his grip on the servant's thin clothing, wishing that it were William Thatcher that he had in his hands and not this puny excuse of a human being. "And the Duke knows of this?"
"Four people," Seamere revealed as peered about wild-eyed looking for an escape. "The Duke, Lady Jocelyn and her maid and me, sir."
"And Thatcher?" Adhemar snarled, speaking the name as if it were poison to his lips
"Lady Jocelyn had yet to tell him the news, but now cannot."
Adhemar's grip of the servant eased off a little as he contemplated the information and how it could be used to his advantaged. "You say Thatcher doesn't know about the child?"
All Seamere could do now was shake his head as he trembled under the Count's intimidating scowl.
Releasing the valet, Adhemar smiled, "You have earned you gold. Tell your master nothing more than I accept Lady Jocelyn's hand."
TBC