This begins the second week after Tannah is claimed by Hassan the Physician.
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"Ezra!" Jaedee called.
Ezra came to a halt and waited for the squire to catch up. "How may I help you, Jaedee?"
"I miss you," Jaedee admitted.
The two men began walking.
"I could no longer remain at Sir Christopher's fire. It was only a matter of time until it came to sword play," Ezra sighed.
"I understand," Jaedee nodded before broaching the real reason for this visit. "You hear things that the rest of us don't. Is he recovered?"
"It is as if the desert swallowed Tannah. I have heard nothing. Jaedee . . . it is best to consider him dead," Sir Ezra stated sadly.
"Dead!" Jaedee stopped in shock.
"Tannah is dead. If perchance he survived the abuse of the mob, he is now a slave to the Saracens. The man we knew is dead," Ezra said bitterly as he stalked off.
"Ezra?" Jaedee's voice suddenly sounded very young.
Ezra froze in place and turned around. "What is it, Jaedee?" he asked gently.
Jaedee looked around before stepping closer to the knight. "I'm scared," Jaedee admitted softly.
"What has frightened you?" Ezra asked protectively.
"Buck," Jaedee whispered. "What he did to Tannah . . . I'm scared of him, Ezra."
"With good reason," Ezra sighed.
"What makes you think I'm any safer than Tannah?" Jaedee hissed.
"Jaedee, Buck loves you. You're his brother."
"I don't know him. He tried to beat Tannah to death," Jaedee protested. The youngster was trembling and close to tears. "I don't want to stay with him."
"Jaedee, you swore oaths to Sir Bucklin. You are his squire. Until you earn your spurs or he releases from those oaths, you belong to him. I cannot interfere," Ezra sighed deeply.
"Yeah, or he kills me like he did Tannah." Jaedee spun around and raced off.
Perhaps I could arrange for Jaedee to be offered a high posting. Sir Bucklin does seem to love his brother. He would release him of his oaths in order for the boy to advance. Especially if Sir Pierre see's a way to profit from the deal.
Sir Ezra walked back to the pavilion he now used after fleeing the company of what might have been friends. However, things had gone terribly wrong and fledgling ties had been broken. Appearances, Ezra. Mother is right; never allow them the opportunity to do you harm. Tannah had almost made me forget. There is no place in this world for an open heart. Standish looked back over his shoulder to where Jaedee had fled before turning and entering the tent, a scheme already taking shape.
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Ezra exchanged pained glances with Jaedee as the squire tied the familiar black stallion in front of Ezra's tent. The saddle was laden with a bundle.
"Jaedee?" Ezra asked curiously.
"Sir Christopher or Buck would kill him soon. They can't use Copper. I thought Tannah would want you to have his things," Jaedee said tearfully.
"Thank you, Jaedee. I'll see that Copper is cared for," Ezra promised.
"I have to go. I'm not supposed to talk to you any more," Jaedee sighed.
"Sir Bucklin ordered you?" Ezra stiffened.
"Yeah, I should choose my friends carefully," Jaedee muttered.
"Ah, the loose tongues are flapping, are they?" Ezra huffed.
"Yeah, I'm sorry," Jaedee sighed.
"It is nothing new Jaedee. Thank you for bringing Tannah's possessions," Ezra said.
Jaedee nodded shakily.
Standish watched as the boy appeared to gather his courage before heading back to Sir Bucklin.
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Sir Christopher fumed in a drunken rage as the Black Wolves cast down his banner as they rode out, intent on taking ship and sailing for home. The carefully enunciated words of the translator still rang in his ears. Sir Larabee's breaking of faith with Tannah thereby freeing the Black Wolves from his service. Larabee knew Tannah could not have slain the page. Tannah had just ridden in from Antioch with dispatches. Larabee lacked honor and the bowmen would not serve him. Never had they served the house of Larabee, they were of Gwynedd and to Gwynedd they would return now that the draig-en was lost. Protecting him from his uncle until his shield brother could be found, they had delivered him to an even worse fate. Sir Christopher would live despite his betrayal; mortal man could condemn him no worse than living with his failure as Tywysydd.
"What did they mean they didn't serve you? What was a Draig-en? And how did you fail as Tywysydd? Whatever that was?" Sir Bucklin demanded furiously.
"I don't know." Sir Christopher paled as his banner was thrown to the ground and the departing bowman rode across it. Many spit upon the silk as they passed.
"I'll teach them manners," Sir Bucklin roared, charging out.
A swift foot to the head dropped the knight to his knees. Horses knocked against him as they crossed the silk. Josiah and Nathan rushed out to drag the unconscious man back as they realized the bowmen would grind Wilmington into the dust without remorse.
"Any who seek a different place on the battle line come to me. I will force no man to serve with a kin slayer," Sir Sean, an Irish Knight called to the gathered knights.
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"Well?" Sir Christopher asked softly as Sir Josiah entered the tent.
"King Richard sent troops to bring back the bowmen. The healers' tents are full. Five flights of arrows the bowmen sent into the troop, and then they rode calmly on. Three of four of the king's company fell to the arrows," Josiah announced in shock. "I didn't know they were capable of that kind of damage."
"The Saracens will rejoice this night," Nathan growled bitterly from where he tended Sir Bucklin's injuries.
Jaedee lifted the tent flap and entered. His eyes were wide and he shifted nervously.
"What is it?" Larabee snarled.
"There isn't a single Cymru in camp. Even servants. If they weren't free, they were bought out of their service. The Scotts and the Irish turn their backs as I approach. Oathbreakers and kinslayers they call us. The Kings are trying to rearrange the battle line. None of the Celts and more than half of the Northmen will not ride to battle with you at their shoulder," Jaedee almost whispered.
"I never broke my oath, nor have I slain kin," Chris hissed, throwing his tankard at Jaedee who dodged out of the way. "Tannah slew that page."
Jaedee's lips moved before he stifled his words fearfully.
"Get out of my sight," Chris snarled before drinking directly from the wine skin.
Jaedee bowed and moved out of the tent. That night he slept with the horses rather than trust to his safety within the tent.
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As morning broke, Sir Bucklin slipped quietly from the tent. Avoiding Larabee who slept off his drink, Buck limped heavily as he searched for his squire.
"Aw hell, Jaedee," Wilmington sighed. The boy slept under a saddle blanket, and tear stains marked his cheeks. "Time to get up." Buck leaned over to shake the boy, jerking back when Jaedee threw up an arm protectively and rolled out of reach. Fear filled the dark eyes as the squire faced his knight.
"Sh, Sh. Easy, it's just me," Buck crooned, trying to sooth his brother. Buck gasped in shock when the boy flinched away from his touch. "Jaedee, I won't hurt you," Buck coaxed.
"I thought you wouldn't hurt Tannah either," Jaedee hissed.
"He killed that page," Buck snarled.
"You and Sir Christopher know better. You were there when Tannah rode in from Antioch. He couldn't have," Jaedee protested.
"Lady Mary saw him," Buck refuted.
"She lied, she wasn't even in camp when the last page was killed. Tannah was with you when John, the son of Montclair, was murdered. The Lady Mary was with her lover Sir Gerrard in the lower camp."
Buck flushed in rage at Jaedee's response. "Be silent! Would you lose your tongue? If your words were to reach the wrong ears, not even Sir Christopher could save you. She's mother to the Earl's heir, you fool."
"Why did you want to get rid of him?" Jaedee demanded. "Because Sir Christopher didn't need you so much? You were jealous of Tannah?
"He was EVIL!" Buck snarled. "A demon."
"Evil? Tannah? You didn't think so when he pulled you out of the ocean. Nor when he took the arrow meant for Sir Christopher. You didn't have a problem eating the meat Tannah put on the table, did you?"
"He tempted Chris," Buck snarled.
"Tempted? Not that horse shit that Tannah was laying down for Chris? God have mercy, Buck! Did you ever see Tannah when he wasn't dressed . . . ever? You slept in the same damn tent," Jaedee yelled. "You lied, attacked a friend and maybe even killed him. Got him sent into slavery."
"Don't speak to me that way again," Buck growled.
"Oathbreaker and kinslayer, that's what they called Sir Chris," Jaedee charged.
"That bowman was no kin, nor did Chris break his oath." Buck's voice rose. "They're lies."
"Are they?" Jaedee hissed.
Buck's blow knocked the youngster to the ground. Blood poured from the boy's mouth and nose. "Oh God, Jaedee. I didn't mean it," Buck gasped in horror, reaching out for his younger brother.
Jaedee scrambled back out of reach and darted past a trio of knights, one of which was Sir Ezra of Standish. Buck charged after his fleeing squire only to be tripped by a well placed boot, suddenly finding a sword tip resting under his chin.
"Intend you to slay this boy as well?" A soft voice asked in a thick Irish accent.
"He's my squire." Buck pushed the sword to the side and scrambled to his feet.
"The Earl, Sean of Munster would take Jaedee for his squire. It would be in the boy's best interest not to be painted with your dishonor," Sir Ezra spoke harshly.
"My dishonor! Would you challenge a trial by combat to answer your charge?" Buck hissed.
"You would go to a challenge with lies still warm upon your lips?" Ezra asked coldly.
Nathan and Sir Josiah stepped into sight and worriedly studied the angry pair. Sir Bucklin snarled and slapped Sir Ezra on the cheek in formal challenge.
Ezra held firm, the brilliant scarlet of Wilmington's hand print glowed on his pale cheek. "As the challenged party, I have choice of combat and weapons." Ezra's voice dripped ice. "I will send my second to arrange the details."
Buck's blue eyes held remorse but he refused to back down. "Sir Christopher will be my second," Wilmington responded.
"Very well," Ezra nodded before stalking off.
"A bad thing to fight among ourselves," Josiah sighed.
"Sir Ezra's charger is still lame. The challenge will be afoot." Nathan studied Buck in concern. "Your bruised leg will slow you down."
"Ezra's much lighter, I will still have the advantage," Buck growled.
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I believe they each acted on their own, but Sir Pierre, Sir Bucklin, and the Lady Mary all used the children's death to their advantage in disposing of an unwanted nonentity.
The Lady Mary used the dead child, using Sir Christopher's guilt over his lost son. She is quite manipulative but not nearly as intelligent as she thinks herself. She saw Tannah as a threat to her acquiring Sir Christopher as husband. Stupid woman, listening to the gossip naming Tannah as Sir Christopher's catamite instead of studying the man. If she had enlisted Tannah's aid, she may have achieved her desires. Instead, Sir Christopher now avoids her.
Sir Bucklin may have acted out of love, convincing himself he was protecting his brother from the dangers of a forbidden sin.
Sir Pierre . . . there was fear in his eyes when he saw Tannah in the command tent. With Sir Pierre being newly arrived, he hadn't seen the bowman before. He was quick to point a finger and incite the mob against Shadow.
Tannah. Ezra abruptly stopped brushing Copper. Ezra concentrated, trying to recall the look on the bowman's face when he first spied Pierre Larabee. Hate, fury, abhorrence . . . fear? What did Tannah know that Sir Pierre wanted hidden?
"Now my friend, you and I need to come to an agreement," Ezra spoke to the fidgeting black stallion. "My good friend Malory is lame.The best way I can see to remove myself from mortal danger and not do grievous harm to Sir Bucklin in the process, is by a horseback encounter. You are too small and not trained for the joust, so that is out of the question. So it comes to swords. No, no nothing like that." Ezra smiled faintly as the horse seemed to shake his head no and stomp a foot. "I would ask that you carry me tomorrow. Light armor and a target rather than a full shield. Much the way the saracens and your master fought." Copper turned his head as if studying Standish. "Well? I think the sight of you may just disturb a guilty conscience," Ezra explained. "That is if you don't kill me before we get to the training grounds."
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A Target or Targe was a small shield worn on the arm rather than the heavy shield used in jousting by the knights.