A Dishonorable Knight (26 page)

"You're certainly in high
spirits this evening," she said.

"It's the market. Fairs, crowds
of people, food,
the
atmosphere is contagious. I can't
help but enjoy myself." Reaching down, he plucked the stick of meat right
out of her hand and began devouring it. Although she was outraged, Elena
couldn't bring herself to dress him down for his impertinence. She was still
too fascinated at seeing him in such a good mood. It made his entire
countenance change; the lines of worry disappeared and his infections
grin made his face look
boyish and innocent. The shock of
hair which was constantly in his eyes now seemed appropriate, giving him a
reckless air that was further enhanced by his next words.

"Ho ho! Viking stumps!"
Looking down at Elena, he said, "Did I ever tell you I was an expert at
this game?" Elena shook her head as Gareth bolted up to the recently
vacated stump opposite the blond sailor. Surely for all his strength he could
not defeat the much larger man. Her eyes darted back and forth from the tall,
well-muscled man to Gareth, compact and sinewy. Although the sailor was even
more appealing now that his face, neck and V of his chest were glistening with
exertion, for some reason, Elena found herself watching Gareth. His knees bent,
he was crouched down, his feet planted firmly on the stump,
the
ornery shock of hair temporarily pushed off his forehead. His eyes narrowed in
concentration as the count was called and a wicked grin touched his lips.

The smile never left his face as he
tugged on the rope. He was not strong enough to gain rope from his adversary,
but neither did he give any up. After several minutes of gaining not an inch,
the sailor grew impatient and gave a tremendous heave. At the same time, Gareth
let his excess rope slide easily through his hands. The sailor tottered on the
edge of the stump before losing his balance and hopping to the ground. The
crowd went wild, hooting and clapping and Elena joined in. She felt a strange
sense of pride that Gareth had won, but did not stop to wonder why. The crowd
grew even rowdier as man after man stepped forward to challenge Gareth only to
be forced off his stump. Gareth grew sweaty and began breathing hard, but the
devilish grin never left his mouth. Finally, he straightened and tossed down
the rope. The crowd roared and clapped as he executed a mock bow. Returning to
his friends, he threw himself down on the bench.

"I would give my horse for a mug
of ale," he said, wiping the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his
shirt.

"Then consider Isrid mine,"
Cynan said. Elena turned and saw him approaching with two heavy pewter mugs in
one hand and an enormous roasted goose leg in the other.

"You are a saint, Cynan,"
Gareth said, relieving his friend of one of the mugs.

"Flattery won't get you out of
giving me your horse."

Gareth gestured to the stumps with
his chin. "You pull me off an he's yours."

Cynan looked apprehensively at the
Viking stumps. " It would be too cruel for me to battle a winded
man."

Gareth took a large swallow of ale
and leaned close to Elena. "Cynan's never been able to best me on Viking
stumps." Looking past her, he said, "Ho, Bryant! Be you ill?"

Elena turned to her forgotten dinner
companion who was staring moodily out into the crowd. When Gareth called him,
he glanced up and shrugged. "I was only marveling at some people's
rudeness." Elena looked out into the crowd to see whom he was referring
to, but she saw nothing unusual. Turning back to Gareth, she saw him exchange
confused glances with Cynan.

Bryant suddenly stood and said,
"I am retiring. Shall I walk you back to the house, Lady Elena?"

"So soon? It isn't even dark
yet."

"No, but it will be in
minutes."

Elena looked to Gareth who said,
"Cynan and I are staying to see the sights. You can remain with us if you
like." Elena turned back to Bryant in time to see his mouth tighten.
Glancing at Elena, he gave her a weak smile and bent to kiss her hand.
"Very well, my lady, I bid you good night." Elena nodded graciously
and gave him one of her best smiles. Bryant was the only one who had ever shown
respect to her rank. As he disappeared into the throng of people, Elena noticed
two young children--a boy and a girl--playing on the Viking stumps.

"Gareth," she said,
smoothing her voice to make it appear as if the question she was about to ask
was completely ladylike and appropriate. "Do women ever play this
game?"

"Do you jest?" Elena
experienced a moment of mortification. "This is Wales. Women do as they
please and that includes this game." His eyebrows
raised
.
"Would you like to try?"

"Oh, no," Elena protested
weakly.

"Come on, you'll enjoy it. You
enjoy knocking people off their pedestals enough, you ought to be great at
this!"

Elena was torn between being
indignant and grabbing up the rope. Gareth seemed to sense how she felt because
he leaned closer and touched her elbow.

"This is Wales, Elena. You can
do whatever you want and not worry about what people will think."

Elena wavered a mere second. "I
would like to try it."

Gareth grinned and pulled her up.
"Well, come on then. Here Cynan," he said, handing over his mug.
"
Elena's going
to see if she has any Viking blood
in her."

"No, I'm going to test my
balance. There are no Norse in my family."

Cynan laughed. "With as much
raiding, looting and ra--er, uh, pillaging as they did, everyone has a little
Viking blood!"

Elena's eyes widened at his
reference, but Gareth quickly distracted her by pulling her towards one of the
stumps and putting the rope end in her hand. He shooed off the children who
were clambering on the stumps. Lifting her skirts, Elena climbed up on the
nearest stump.

"Be there any lass who'd like to
try her hand at the rope?" he called out.

Aldred, the first man Elena had
watched was leaning against a nearby booth. "Are you so tired you can't
best a man? You must now take on the women?" he yelled mockingly.

"More like he's found no worthy
challenger amongst you men and he knows a woman will give him more fight!"
said a sassy young woman of fifteen or sixteen as she climbed up on the
opposite stump. The nearby crowd laughed at her remark and Aldred flushed, but
laughed as well.

"No, no," Gareth jokingly
admonished. "We've a newcomer who'd like to learn," he said as he
handed the girl her end of the rope. "Are you ready, Elena?"

"I guess so."

"Crouch down. There you go. Now
remember to use your arms, not your whole body. Are you ready?" he asked
the girl who nodded and smiled encouragingly at Elena. "Very well. One,
two,
three,
pull!"

Elena felt the rope being pulled out
of her hands and when she grabbed it tightly, she found herself being pulled
neatly off the stump. The crowd laughed good-naturedly, but Elena was
embarrassed nonetheless.

"Don't worry," Gareth
reassured. "That was only your first time. Here, try it again," he
said as he retrieved her end of the rope. "Do you mind?" he asked the
girl.

"Of course not." Calling to
Elena, she said, "Don't think about your rope,
miss
.
Just think on sticking like pitch to the log."

Elena nodded and stepped back up on
her stump. Crouching down, she stared at a point on the ground and thought,
Stay
on the stump! Stay on the stump! When Gareth called out
the count, she grabbed up as much of the excess rope as she could and began
tugging, all the while staring at the point on the ground and concentrating on
keeping her feet on the stump. Within a minute, she had pulled down her
opponent and the gained the cheers of the crowd. The girl skipped over to Elena
and said, "Well met! You're a natural!"

"Thank you," Elena said
awkwardly as she started to step down.

"Not so fast," said Gareth.
"You've got another challenger." Surprised, Elena looked up to see a
young woman a year or two older than
herself
climb on
the stump.

She easily defeated her second and
third challengers, but by then her arms, unaccustomed to such vigorous play,
were shaking with exhaustion and the forth opponent bested her.

"Excellent job!" said
Gareth as she sat down. He handed her his mug of ale and when she had caught
her breath, she took several ladylike sips of the sharp-tasting but cold brew.
"Well, what do you think of our game?" he asked when she handed his
mug back to him.

"I think the girls back at court
would love it!" Seeing Cynan look sharply at Gareth and misunderstanding
its
meaning, she hastened to explain. "We are not
always proper and stuffy, you know. We play games and have fun, too. Why, even
Lady Elizabeth plays tag with us."

"Of course," said Gareth,
shaking his head at Cynan.

The trio sat in silence for several
minutes just watching the crush of people who were milling about the square.
The sun had set and torches were being lit at each merchant booth. Their
flickering light gave everything a dreamlike quality. The smoke from the pitch
torches mingled with the scent of food cooking, the smell of hard-earned sweat,
and the salty tang of the nearby sea. Somewhere in one of the enclosed taverns,
a lute and recorder played a lively tune to the accompanying beat of an Irish
bohdrin.

Elena inhaled deeply and sighed with
contentment. She felt utterly comfortable and happy. Happy?
she
thought with a start. What was there here to make her happy? There certainly
were no grand feasts of state with adoring men to flatter and cajole her. She
had none of her beautiful gowns or precious jewelry
give
to her by her mother. There were no waiting maids to brush out her long hair or
help her bathe. In fact, Elena could not remember the last time she had really
bathed. Splashing around in a stream could not replace a barrel full of hot
water and scented soap. Why she should be happy at this odd moment was a
mystery to her, but as Elena sat on the hard wooden bench with the narrow slats
of the back pressing against her ribs and Gareth's arm lightly brushing her,
she decided that she was truly happy at this moment. As a matter of fact, she
didn't even remember the grease stain on her skirt.

"Well, that does it for
me," said Cynan with a yawn. "I am about to fall asleep on this
miserable bench. I've had one too many nights of the late watch."
Standing, he gave Elena a sleepy bow and said, "Don't let him keep you out
all night." He turned and stumbled through the milling people.

"So much for my friend who never
slept and was always up for a new adventure," Gareth said wryly.

Elena smiled and leaned forward.
Gareth imagined she was weary herself and would like to retire, but he had
promised Cynan that he would try to discover where her loyalties lay and they
might not have much time alone again before they returned to England. While he
racked his brain to think of a way to approach the subject, a breeze brought the
fresh scent of the sea and he was seized with an inspiration. "Would you
like to see the docks before we retire?"

Elena looked at him dubiously.
"Are they safe?"

Gareth smiled. "Don't worry,
they're not at all like those near London. Aberystwyth is still for the most
part a large fishing village. The most excitement you're like to see is a late
fisherman unloading his catch. Besides, what have you to fear?
You are accompanied by Sir Gareth, knight of the realm
. You
think anyone with evil intent dare approach us?"

Elena laughed and said teasingly,
"Nay, not with your hair sticking up all over your head like an
ogre's!"

Gareth's hand flew to his unruly
hair, but he could feel nothing unusually messy. When he saw the teasing look
in his companion's face, he joined her laughter. "Well, what do you
say?"

"That sounds lovely."

Gareth was surprised by her polite
answer. Although she had been astoundingly cooperative of late, her early
rudeness and haughtiness had so influenced him that he was constantly surprised
by any other attitude from her.

They stood and she followed him
through the crowds of people. As soon as they reached the edge of the
marketplace, the throng rapidly diminished until they were walking alone down
moonlit streets, the faint rush of the sea audible.

"This seems bigger than a large
fishing village," Elena said as they made their way toward the ocean. The
further they walked from the marketplace, the louder the sound of the water
grew.

"Well, in size, yes, it is
large, but not in attitude. The folk here consider themselves all family of
sorts and they're not very tolerant of people disturbing their home with
mischief and mayhem." Gareth glanced sideways at Elena. She was nodding
her head slightly.

They came around a bend in the street
that opened onto a rocky beach and the weathered docks.