A Crimson Frost (34 page)

“King James?” Broderick asked, pausing in his armoring.

Sarah nodded. “James’s father often threatened mine with war. He coveted Karvana the way some men want a woman they cannot have. My father, weakened by age and arrogance, struck hands with King Nathan, then the king of Rothbain…and James’s father. No doubt King Nathan thought he could work through me, to throw my father from Karvana’s throne and seat himself as king. No doubt my father believed a union between the families would serve to silence any talk of war. Thus, he promised my hand to James of Rothbain. He said I would not marry Ackley…that he would banish me if I sought further to even speak with him.”

“King Seward was fearful
Eden
would defy him,” Bronson said, tugging his breastplate into place. “And so he sent an assassin to kill me. Me…a knight of the table round of conferring of Karvana!”

“Ackley killed the assassin, of course. Still, I knew Father would not cease in his attempts to kill Ackley,” Sarah said. “Thus, I begged Ackley to take us from Karvana. I knew my brother, Dacian, would ascend to the throne soon…for father was ill and could not live long. Dacian would have granted us permission to wed…put off King Nathan and Prince James. But I did not want to wait for another assassin to try to murder my lover at my own father’s bidding. And so we fled. My father pronounced we had been banished, of course…that Ackley had seduced and ruined me…and that he had banished us.”

“And James’s pride aches still,” Broderick mumbled.

“I own no regret…save one,” Bronson said. His armor shone bright in the cottage, even for the lack of bright light.

“The banishment of your brothers…the Knights Exemplar,” Broderick said.

Bronson nodded. “Yet even for that—even for the shame unfairly heaped upon them—I have my Eden…my life…and my sons.”

“As I will have my Monet,” Broderick growled.
             

“The horses are ready, Father…and Wallace has summoned all the village to the square,” Kenley said as he entered the cottage.

Broderick smiled as Kenley’s eyes widened. He looked first to Broderick, then to his father—the great Knight Exemplar, Sir Ackley Carrington.

“It is long I have wished to see you full armored, Father,” the young man said.

“As have I,” Stroud said.

Wallace nodded, and Broderick knew the pride rising in the bosoms of Sir Ackley Carrington’s sons.

“Mother says you will one day be our king, Sir Broderick,” young Dane said.

Broderick sighed. “It may be,” he said, “for the woman I love is your Scarlet Princess, and I would brave any horror for her…even if it means I must be king one day.”

“You will be a great king, Sir Broderick,” Sarah said, “as great as ever was Dacian. It is why he chose you.”

“He chose me to protect Karvana’s heart,” Broderick began, “and I have failed.” He would not weaken—though his heart was fearful, his body angry and aching to slay any who might harm his Monet.

“No!” Sarah said firm. “Her heart is beating still for sake of you. Dacian chose you as successor king, Broderick…for he knows Karvana’s heart. He knows Monet loves you…that you love her more than anything, even life itself. He knows you are the greatest of men and will sit the throne of Karvana as the greatest of rulers. It is well I know my brother…even for all the years that have passed. He thought first of his daughter’s heart, yes—yet of the kingdom’s heart and welfare as well. Who better to preserve the princess and the kingdom than the great Crimson Knight?”

Broderick inhaled. Sarah was wise, and he would not linger on thoughts of failure. He was armored. He bore weapons—even the finest of swords, the Crimson Frost, forged by the great Exemplar Knight, Sir Ackley Carrington. He was the Crimson Knight of Karvana, Sir Broderick Dougray—son of Kendrick Nathair, First Knight of Karvana, Favored Warrior of King Dacian, Commander of the First Legion, Commander of the Second Legion, Slayer of a Thousand Enemies, Blood Warrior of Ballist, Protector of the Kingdom, Guardian and lover of the Scarlet Princess—and he could not be kept from her. Not Sir Fredrick Esmund nor King James of Rothbain—not the Reaper, Lord Death himself—none would bar him from Monet.

“Come, my friend, Blacksmith…my brother knight,” Broderick said. “We ride for Karvana’s heart!”

Bronson’s smile grew to a chuckle—his chuckle to booming laughter. “We ride!” he shouted.

“Stroud…Wallace,” Bronson began as the Crimson Knight and the great Exemplar Ackley stepped from the cottage. “You will ride as well.”

Each young man nodded.

“You will gather the Knights Exemplar. You know how to gather them. They will know where to meet,” Bronson said.

Broderick smiled, placing a strong, gauntleted hand on Bronson’s shoulder. “The brotherhood of the Exemplars is not broken then?”

“Never!” Bronson said, smiling. “And we…all Exemplars yet living…will ride for Karvana’s heart, Karvana herself, and the good king, Dacian!”

Once mounted, Broderick and Bronson rode to the village square. Sir Broderick Dougray’s heart swelled as he heard the familiar ring of his own armor—as he thought of battling the men who dared take his wife. He smiled at Bronson when an armored knight, mounted on a familiar horse, approached from beyond.

“You are nothing if not in secret,” Broderick said as the Miller Aldrich raised his helmet shield. “And that is a good horse you sit.”

“Sir Elton Kent, Knight Exemplar…at your service, Crimson Knight! But give me charge, and I will employ it,” the miller laughed. “And by the by…the finest horseman of Ballain sold me this horse!”

“The minstrels of generations to come shall sing of Ballain,” Broderick laughed. “Land of exiled knights!”

Bronson laughed, as did Aldrich.

“Gather men and arms, Sir Elton,” Broderick said, “and meet Sir Ackley and I without Karvana in two days’ time.”

“It will be done,” Sir Elton said.

The people of Ballain approached, and Broderick spurred Tripp to rearing once—twice—thrice.

“Good people!” the Crimson Knight shouted. Dressed in his battle armor and mounted on Tripp, Broderick hailed the people of Ballain gathering in the margin of the square. “I am Sir Broderick Dougray…First Knight of Karvana…and husband to your Scarlet Princess, Monet. I trust in your understanding of why we have been living among you in secret…for you are, each one, loyal Karvanians…are you not?”

The people cheered, and Broderick could see the delight, pride, and loyalty full in their countenances. They were not angry at the necessary deception—only proud to know their princess had lingered among them as friend.

“King James is at Karvana’s gate,” Broderick near roared. “He threatens siege…and he has taken the princess…your future queen and my wife! We must not fail our future queen! We must not fail King Dacian! We must not let Karvana fall to James of Rothbain! Thus, I call every able man to arm himself…to battle for King Dacian and Karvana! As he who will one day be your king, as he who now endeavors that King Dacian may reign long and well before that day comes, I call you to bravery and force…that we may vanquish the enemy before Karvana falls!” Tripp reared, snorted, and beat the ground with strong hooves. “Sir Elton Kent, Knight Exemplar, will lead you…for Sir Ackley Carrington, Knight Exemplar and husband of the Karvana’s lost Princess Eden, will not linger…nor will I. I go to retrieve the priceless jewel stolen from us. I go to save the Princess Monet…the heart of Karvana! But you…you must protect this life you know…lest it be taken from you forever! Are you willing?”

Broderick smiled as the cheers of the people broke the stillness of the winter air. Again Tripp reared, anxious to be gone—to move swift as the north wind.

“Then, men of Ballain, gather your arms…for you must march this very day!” Broderick shouted. “We will strike the enemy dead…rain a crimson frost upon them!”

The people cheered, and Broderick turned to Sir Elton.

“Sir Elton,” he began, “in two days, at sunrise, you must be there…at Karvana’s back.”

“We will be there, Sir Broderick,” said the miller, Sir Elton. “The devil himself will not keep us.”

Broderick nodded. He glanced beyond the village to the cottage—the place where he and Monet had first spoken of their love for one another. He looked to the smithy. Sarah was there, with young Channing at her side, looking on with Kenley, Birch, Carver, and Dane.

“The Scarlet Princess will be rescued, young Channing…and Karvana will triumph. All for your quick wit and impenetrable courage and loyalty,” Broderick shouted. “For this, you will one day be well rewarded. Of that, you have my word.”

The Crimson Knight drew his sword, forged for sake of the knight who bested the enemy and the Reaper in Ballist. Brandishing high the Crimson Frost, the Crimson Knight spurred Tripp to rearing.

“We ride!” he shouted.

Bronson laughed and spurred his mount.

As Broderick’s mouth remembered the taste of Monet’s kiss—his body the warm sense of hers held in his arms—the Crimson Knight rode hard, a great Knight Exemplar at his side. The pounding rhythm of strong hooves beating the winter ground, the feel of leather in his hands, caused his heart to hammer. He rode swift—as swift as he would plunge the blade of the Crimson Frost through the heart of Sir Fredrick Esmund and lop off the head of King James for having dared to touch his Scarlet Princess.

The Challenge and Price

“Take heart, Princess,” King James began, “for you will yet reign over your beloved Karvana…as my queen.”

“I fear I must decline, James,” Monet said. “Karvana already has a successor king…and I already have a husband.”

She glared at James of Rothbain, loath to see him, his brown hair swept through with gray, his piercing green eyes, his sharp nose, and his weak chin.

King James laughed. “Ah, yes…the aged Lord Shelley. Fredrick should well have killed him when the chance was at hand in Ballain. Nevertheless, Fredrick’s mistake can be easily rectified. Though…I suppose it was your father’s mistake first.” King James laughed, shaking his head with amusement. “Lord Shelley? Was Dacian truly so desperate to see his bloodline preserved? He well knows I will defeat him here, for Rudolph will join me…and Karvana will fall, as will your father. And I will, at last, own Karvana’s throne as well as Rothbain’s. It is at it was meant to be…for I was to have had Karvana long ago.”

“Meant to have Karvana long ago?” Monet said. “James…has madness joined ignorance in overtaking you?”

Monet gasped but did not cry out when the back of King James’s hand met her cheek with brutal force.

“Seward’s daughter, Eden, was promised me!” James growled. “I was to marry her…and in this I would have had Karvana’s throne in my palm—for your father would not have lived long enough to take it…I assure you!” He inhaled deep, glaring at her. “Yet
Eden
was willful and rebellious. She took flight from Karvana…with a lowly knight of Seward’s table. A knight! When she would have had a prince and two kingdoms to rule over!”

Monet was astonished at James’s story. Her father’s sister, Eden, promised to James of Rothbain? It was no wonder she fled with Sir Ackley! Still, she would not let him see she was affected, and though her heart beat fierce and her body trembled with fear, she would not let James be satisfied in it.

“I would warn you, James…do not strike me again,” she said. “Already your life may be forfeit…for my husband will be sore vexed when you stand before him, begging for his mercy. And if evidence is seen that you have mistreated me…you will die.”

Again James struck her. Monet did not cry out, however—though her entire body felt the sting of the brutal blow.

“Silence!” James shouted. “I will hear no more from your mouth this day!” He leveled a forefinger at her and growled, “I will have Karvana…and I will have you.” He straightened his posture, still glaring at her as he continued. “I will not make idle threats of killing you. Dacian would not believe it, for he knows I must win the people once he is vanquished…and killing you would not win Karvanian hearts to me. Thus, I will take you to wife instead.” His eyes narrowed, “I know you are thinking that you are wed already…but widows are not so uncommon a thing. Lord Shelley will no doubt seek you here, for his honor demands it. He shall be all too easily killed…and I will wed you to me. Oh, it is certain I must wait—ensure you do not already carry Shelley’s child—for it would be impiety to risk there be another man’s begotten in my castle. Yet as I wait…I will convince Rudolph to join me. We will lay siege to Karvana and vanquish her king.”

“Rudolph will not join you,” Monet said—though James had commanded her to speak no more. Yet his hand tight gripping her throat silenced her once again.

“Oh, he will join me,” James growled, “for fathers so love their daughters.” He snapped the fingers of his free hand. “Fredrick…I am weary of Princess Monet’s company. Yet we dare not leave her to her fear and trembling in solitude. Bring her company.”

Monet willed her tears to stay at bay; she could not show her weakness to James. He released his hold of her neck, and she glanced to Sir Fredrick. The villain who had brought her from Ballain to King James’s battle camp just without Karvana village donned a triumphant grin.

“Guard!” Sir Fredrick shouted.

Monet could not conceal an astonished gasp as Anais of Alvar stepped into King James’s pavilion then.

“Anais!” Monet breathed. The Princess of Alvar bore deep bruising on one cheek. Tears brimmed in her eyes, yet she held her posture straight.

“You see, Princess,” James said, “Rudolph will join me in defeating Karvana…for he would not see his daughter harmed.” James chuckled, for he no doubt saw the renewed fear on Monet’s face. Karvana may defeat James of Rothbain, yes. But could she defeat Rudolph of Alvar as well?

“Let us leave the ladies to their fearful weeping, Fredrick,” James said. “We must prepare…for Lord Shelley will no doubt be upon us by morning.” He laughed, loud and with triumphant arrogance.

Sir Fredrick followed King James as he left the pavilion. Two Rothbainian soldiers stepped inside and took up the guarding stance.

“Monet!” Anais cried, throwing trembling arms around Monet’s neck. Monet had never owned a favorable thought of Anais of Alvar. Always she had thought Anais arrogant, willful, and deceptive. Yet in that moment, she was glad of a familiar face.

“Anais!” Monet cried, returning Anais frightened embrace. “How came you to be here?”

“Sir Fredrick,” Anais whispered. “King James will use me to ensure my father will fight with him to win victory over Karvana!” Anais released Monet, shaking her head. “After Ivan’s tournament…Sir Fredrick began to pen letters to me,” she whispered. “He claimed to have fallen in love with me at the tournament…spoke of his unquenchable thirst to win my heart. Oh, such letters he did write, Monet! And I…I…”

“You believed him,” Monet finished.

Anais nodded. “We planned to meet…that we may see each other at last,” she said. “He killed Elizabeth, my lady in waiting, Monet! He ran his dagger across her throat!”

Monet felt tears at her cheeks.

Anais wept. “
Elizabeth
knew of the letters…and she bade me not to go,” she said. “But I was willful—as ever I am willful—and so she said she would accompany me. She said she would linger behind…that she only wanted to ensure my safe conduct. But…when Sir Fredrick tried to force me to go with him, he took hold of
Elizabeth
. He said he would kill her if I did not go with him. I did not believe him…for he is a knight…is he not?”

Monet shook her head. “He is no knight—though titled he may be.”

Anais nodded. “I did not believe Sir Fredrick when he said he would kill her. I only thought he was desperate to own me. I did not know he endeavored to bring me to King James in order that James may force my father to fight against King Dacian. I paused when he said he would kill her. I laughed and told him he was speaking nonsense…that of course I would not go with him. I was a princess of Alvar! I could not go to live with a knight.” Anais buried her face in her hands as she wept. She shook her head, saying, “I did not think he would kill
Elizabeth
…but he did! When he put the dagger next to my throat…I knew he would kill me too.”

Monet trembled—tried to force the vision of Sir Fredrick’s dagger at Channing’s throat from her mind. As they had traveled back to Karvana—as Sir Fredrick and his men had pushed her to riding so hard her body ached—ever she had wondered if she should have called out for Broderick when Sir Fredrick had threatened Channing. Monet had wondered—doubted—whether Sir Fredrick would truly have killed Channing if she had not followed his instructions. Yet now she knew—if Sir Fredrick could so easily kill Anais’s lady, he could well as easy have killed Channing.

Monet was pure terrified! She knew she would not be killed, for James needed her still. Yet she now understood there was no honor about Sir Fredrick Esmund—nothing to prove he had kept his word where Sarah and Channing were concerned. Sarah and Channing had both been well—frightened but alive—when she had left them in the wood near the holly cropping. Yet now she feared they were not well. Had Sir Fredrick ordered the man he had left behind to watch them—had he in truth ordered that the man kill them? Even had there truly been only one man left in Ballain to guard them? Perhaps there were more! Sarah and Channing might have outwitted one man, but what if there were more than one?

“Broderick!” Monet cried in a whisper. What if Sir Fredrick had left many men behind—many men that may have attacked the village? What if Broderick were caught unprepared?

“What will we do, Monet?” Anais asked. “Surely we will both meet our doom…either in death or ruination!”

Closing her eyes, Monet endeavored to breathe steady. In her mind she could see Ballain. She could see Bronson laughing in watching his sons sparring with wooden swords. Sarah was there, stitching as ever she stitched, as was the merry miller, Aldrich, and his wife. Wilona’s baby, Dacian, was in her thoughts and the poor minstrel, Reynard, who had sung ballads near as perfectly as did Marius himself. And ever—ever there was Broderick—tall, handsome, and strong! She could near feel his arms about her—near taste his kiss on her lips. Ever there had been Broderick. Ever had he been her mind and heart. He loved her—this she knew. He loved her, and he would come for her. She would believe that Channing and Sarah had somehow returned to Ballain—that they were safe in the arms of the Crimson Knight and a great Knight Exemplar. This she would believe—for her heart told her it was so.

“We will wait,” Monet said. “We will wait…for my husband loves me, and he will come for me.”

“Lord Shelley?” Anais whispered. “I heard the boy tell James your father wed you to Lord Robert Shelley. The young page from
Karvana
Castle
…they beat him with little mercy, and he held his tongue. Yet when Sir Fredrick placed his dagger to my throat…” Anais clutched her throat with trembling hands, as if fearful she would yet find Sir Fredrick’s dagger there. “The boy told them of your marriage to Lord Shelley. But, Monet…Lord Shelley cannot save us!”

“Lord Shelley is not my husband,” Monet said. Yet she paused in saying more. Anais was weak. She did not trust her to keep secrets from Sir Fredrick or King James. In truth, she knew she would easily give up any secret if it meant she could protect herself.

“But the boy…the page…he said Dacian married you to Lord Shelley. He said he was there…that he was witness,” Anais said.

“We must wait, Anais,” Monet said. “We must wait. We must, both of us, live through one more night of terror…for on the morrow, he will come for me.”

“My father is to meet with King James at first light,” Anais said. “James will not pause to lay siege to Karvana once my father has joined the battle.”

“My husband will not let me linger here,” Monet whispered, “nor will he let Karvana fall.”

“Perhaps you are not married to Lord Shelley, Monet,” Anais said. “But unless you are married to some king unknown to the five kingdoms who commands legion upon legion to battle James…what hope have you in the morrow?”

“I have love, Anais,” Monet said. “And he will find me…even if he has to slay James’s army as well as your father’s to do it.”

Monet closed her eyes once more. She would endure. She would endure the night—the fear and threat—even she would endure the back of King James’s hand to her face if needs be. For on the morrow, he would come. Monet knew that on the morrow the Crimson Knight would come for the heart of Karvana.



Eight there were—eight great Knights Exemplar armored and mounted before Sir Broderick Dougray. It was for a moment Broderick bathed in great humility, awed by the sight of the great Knights Exemplar pledging their allegiance to his command. The moonlight on their armor caused that they appeared to be ghosts—spirit knights returned from the clouds of heaven to defend their good kingdom. It was in this state of musing that Broderick fair expected the three long dead and buried Exemplars, Sir Garrick Jarvis, Sir Stanley Sheppard, and Sir Fairfax Ewing, to appear—to descend from the stars as wraithlike comrades to their knight brothers. Even he wondered if Sir Alum would appear, somehow knowing his brothers were gathering and leaving his charge to the north. Yet Sir Alum was a knight of Karvana. He would not abandon his king’s charge, even to fight with his Exemplar brothers.

As the emerald banner of the Exemplar Knights waved, caught in the breath of the breeze, Broderick nodded to Bronson, and Bronson offered a nod in return.

“We have our plan, great knights of Karvana!” Broderick said. “We will employ it and triumph! In doing so, we will save the lives of many of our people and soldiers from the senseless greed and vain arrogance of King James!”

“We ride! We battle! We win!” the Exemplar Knights shouted.

Smiling, the Crimson Knight raised his helmet shield. Ever he had heard tales of the battle cry of the great Exemplar Knights. Never had he hoped to hear the cry itself!

Stroud and Wallace looked on, as did Bronson’s other four sons. Sarah and Channing had accompanied Sir Elton and the men of Ballain and Ballist to the wooded margin behind
Karvana
Castle
.

Broderick turned to Stroud, Wallace, and the others. “Wallace,” he said, “Channing will show you the way into the
Karvana
Castle
. You must see him safe to the king that he may tell Dacian of our planning…of what must be done.”

“Yes, Sir Broderick,” Wallace said.

“Channing,” Sir Broderick continued, “only you can carry this charge to tell the king of our plan. Take the secret path. You know the one.”