The Temporal Knights (26 page)

She was truly enjoying her role as hostess and ruling Lady and the extra attention it brought her.

Once the meal was over, the remainder was cleaned up very quickly, though Dr. Rice left plenty of time for the servants to finish before the start of the show. The Lady Merwinna and her
party, which including Rice, Thane, and the Lady Ellyn sat in chairs beneath a large awning and had one of the large monitors all to themselves. Murphy Giles and Selby, sat near the back, the girl uncomfortable, but very proud to be included with the all of the nobles. Her mother, who was relegated to the common area, was equally proud. The additional four screens were set up to handle the nearly five hundred others who would also be watching. Most of the common folk sat on the ground or on large logs carried over for seating purposes. When all was ready, Dr. Rice picked up a small cordless microphone and addressed the crowd. 

“Good evening,” his voice boomed from the speakers, startling all of the locals, a few rushed away a few steps before they regained their courage.

“This is the story...one story of a very old English King, King Arthur,” he added and the crowd buzzed in excitement, even now, tales of the legendary King were popular. Rice paused a moment before continuing.

“Some of this story may be true; some of it may be false, but it has captured the hearts of countless generations. We hope you enjoy it,” he said finishing and went to take his seat next to the Lady Merwinna.

“Ye know of Arthur and his Anglish rule even in yor lands?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. It is a fabulous story.”
“Tis said Arthur be a mighty King, wise and just. Methinks for ye to have heard of such a thing that it must be truth.”

Dr. Rice smiled. “Perhaps,” he replied and the film started. From the beginning the locals were in a word, spellbound. The entire audience remained riveted from the opening night scene, terrified by the amplified sounds of charging horses, and excited by the clash of swords. Most watched the entire film in a semi catatonic state somewhere between disbelief and wonder.

“I thought ye knew nothing of dance,” the Lady Ellyn commented during a dance scene at the very beginning. Matt did not answer, but Ellyn took no notice, and said nothing more until the movie was over. At the end she was weeping with joy, and triumph.

“Wondrous,” she exclaimed and everyone around shared her feelings, the camp was buzzing with unbelievable excitement.
“Twas players, truly?”

“Yes,” Matt answered.

“Wondrous,” she repeated. “Twas so real, even for gnomes of the magic box.”

Matt laughed, happy with the excitement the locals all shared. They were all amazed, delighted and moved by the film. It was a smashing success, and he was glad he’d suggested it. Quicker than thought the locals cleared a large area near the camp and as if by magic, music filled the air. An instant later the dancing began without preamble. This time however, Matt remembered a few of the songs and even a few dances. The makeshift dance floor was soon crowded with boisterous, happy people. Rushing all through the dancers and the immediate area were small knots of screaming, joyful children. Eve darted about among them; she was adjusting marvelously to her new playmates, so much so that her guardian Stuart Greybon seldom, if ever, followed directly behind her any more, though he still kept a close eye on the very special girl.

Once again, Matt danced almost exclusively with Ellyn, though the Lady Merwinna did sneak in one dance, as did little Eve, neither of which the Lady Ellyn minded. But when she returned from relieving herself to find the young Pilton girl from the woods in the arms of her lover she nearly went mad with jealousy, especially when she saw just how the little wench was looking up at him. Matt caught Ellyn’s eye as she came out of the darkness of the surrounding night and smiled, shrugging slightly, but he kept dancing with the commoner until the song was over.

“Ye looked to be as enjoying yorself Master Thane,” she said scornfully. He stepped back, delighted by her jealousy.

“It was only a dance,” he chided and pulled her to him as another song started. It was an intricate group dance where everyone changed partners numerous times before finally ending up with their original partner at the end, so Matt had the chance to dance with the little vixen again. Ellyn seethed. The girl was obviously very taken with him, and for his own part Matt thought she was cute.

“I care na for the
way that wench be lookin’ at ye,” Ellyn admitted once she was again in Matt’s arms.

Matt laughed. “Her name’s Rebecca...and you didn’t seem to mind her looking at me this afternoon.”

Ellyn frowned unwittingly and her heart skipped a beat. “Wot?”

“Yes. All of you girls seemed to be having quite the time of it,” he answered and watched her closely with a smile. She was squirming now, but still not completely convinced that he knew her secret.

“I na know wot ye mean.”

“I just hope it was me you were looking at and not all those other men swimming about,” he added, dropping the bomb. Shocked, she made to flee but he grabbed her tight and held her fast. They continued to dance, Matt leading Ellyn around the floor, as she blushed furiously.

At first she didn’t say anything, and he was afraid she would start to cry, so he made sure to smile and press close against her. For almost a minute she wouldn’t look at him, then she glanced up, face still very red.

“Ye knew?” she asked then looked down again. “I...I am verily sorry.
Twas na a proper thing to do.”

“I don’t mind as long as you were only looking at me,” he answered as the dance came to an end. She wouldn’t look at him until he lifted her face with his hand.

“Yah, I was lookin’ at ye, forsooth.”

“Forsooth?”

She shook her head positively, smiling slightly. He led her slowly away from the dancers and over toward the fringes of the crowd, away from prying ears, but still near enough so that old aunt Eldreena would not get too uppity.

“Ye knew?”

Matt smiled and then laughed a bit. “Yes, we’ve known about the girls watching for quite some time now. At first we thought to drive them away, but we realized we didn’t care if they watched...and we didn’t want to get them in trouble for their natural curiosity. I was a bit surprised though, when the sentries reported that you were on your way to the grove, however.”

She blushed again. “Ye knew I was going?”

He nodded. “That’s why I decided to go for a swim.”

“Ye knew I was there the whole time?” She asked, growing indignant.

He nodded again, wondering just what she would do. “What are you going to do tell your aunt?”

“Baaah!
Why...ye...Matthew Thane...” she stammered.

“Well, you were the one spying, and I just couldn’t have you staring at Sergeant Blish now could I.”

She started to scream, then he laughed, and soon they were both laughing so hard they could hardly speak.

“Ho,” she finally said with some semblance of control, “thee girls think ye have a nice bum.”

“Oh, do they now...and what do you think?”

She smiled again. “Tis verily nice,” she agreed with a nod.

“You seem to have me at a distinct advantage now. You know what my bum looks like, but as for me, I have no idea what yours looks like. For all I know it could be this big,” he said holding his arms wide apart.

“Matthew Thane!” she stammered. Matt smiled widely; he loved it when she used his full name. It sounded so sweet coming off of her tongue. They laughed again for several moments before she became suddenly serious.

“Ye wold like to see me?” she asked not truly believing what she was saying.

He looked into her eyes. “Oh yes,” he answered.

She looked back, then around to make sure there was no one spying on them at the moment. Her aunt was currently dancing with Dr. Rice and no one else was near. “Twill have to be verily early...before the cock crows,” she whispered leaning forward. “Meet me behind the old barn down by the river, just before sunrise.”

Matt just nodded; his body beginning to hum with excitement and for several long moments he was unable to speak. He was confused, wanting this and frightened by it at the same time. His feelings for her did not change, but his need increased a thousand fold.

§

Ivarr watched the long boat tack back and forth as it made its way to the mouth of the Medina River.

“Na good will come of this,” his brother Halfdan commented as they looked on from a large manor home they’d captured when they sacked the town of Shamblord over a year ago. The entire Isle was now under Danelaw, a safe harbor against the armies of the Anglish. But that didn’t keep the pit of Ivarr’s stomach from souring as the boat moved closer.

‘Tis something bad,’
Ivarr thought and for the briefest moment hoped it was the plague, but deep down he knew this was not so. The Anglish under Alfred were growing strong…worse yet they were growing bold.

It took nearly an hour before the boat finally moored and it became readily apparent why the crew was not manning the oars to navigate the harbor. There was no crew. Twenty men and a handful of captured women were all that was on board. Ubba was not among them, though the boat flew his colors.

“Bring them to me,” Ivarr ordered in a deep, low voice that always precluded trouble. Halfdan grunted, by now equally concerned, and left to do his brother’s bidding.

The survivors were herded into the large courtyard of the manor house. Ivarr sat beneath an overhang in a large, ornately carved chair that sported a bright red velvet cushion…not quite a throne, but close. The yard was crowded with curious Northmen, wondering what harrowing tale these unfortunate warriors would bring with them.

Even yet, Ivarr was hoping for some natural catastrophe rather than a calamity brought on by Alfred. The condition of the boat ruled out a storm…plus the weather had been quite fair for this time of year. Ivarr’s stomach did another slow flip as he caught sight of Aleweard, one of his brother’s top men and a powerful fighter. He was wounded and held his right arm close to his side for support, but otherwise he appeared to be uninjured. The man began to tell the tale slowly, awkwardly, but soon enough it became clear that Ubba’s band had been defeated in battle, routed out of the fortress at Countisbury…and in less than a full day.

‘Tis na possible,’
Ivarr thought and grew angry at the cowardly display of the men before him. Ubba would not let such a thing happen; he would go berserker and fight to the last man.

“They
be na men,” Aleweard explained. “They be faceless apparitions that called down the thunder of Thor upon us. The fortress be destroyed, just so much rubble. Dey…” he began and suppressed a shiver as he remembered the attack, “killed from away…long away. Dey had na swords, na knives, na bows but men…good hard men screamed and died all around.”

“And me bruder?” Halfdan asked loudly, becoming alarmed by the tale, wondering what mystical mischief the Anglish were up to now.

“Captured,” Aleweard answered. “Dey devils have ‘em.”

“Ye left me bruder in the hands of devils!” Ivarr finally spoke as his rage built quickly.

Aleweard said nothing, just stared defiantly at the Boneless, which only made Ivarr’s anger grow.

“Ye
be cowards!” Halfdan screamed and Aleweard’s hand automatically went to the hilt of his sword.

It was a mistake. Before he could draw his weapon, Halfdan was on him and Ivarr was out of his seat, battleaxe whistling through the air. The rest of Aleweard’s crew pulled their blades, realizing immediately that they would fight and die, or fight and live. Not one of the doomed men felt cheated at their fate…at least they were fighting men and not the faceless devils from the Hill.

Aleweard was a large, strong warrior and held off Halfdan for several moments but Ivarr was a master in the art of death. He swung his large, heavy axe with his right hand arcing it back and forth across the front of his body with amazing speed. In his left hand he held a gladius, a short sword he’d found among the bones of long dead roman army.

Ivarr’s approach distracted Aleweard momentarily and Halfdan pounced, sending a flurry of blows at the man. Aleweard managed to deflect them all but the last; it cut deeply through the front of his left thigh. Aleweard hissed and tried to retreat but his leg gave way slightly and he almost went down. He somehow managed to turn away Ivarr’s axe, but as he did the gladius disappeared into his gut.

Ivarr stared mercilessly into Aleweard’s eyes for only a second before he yanked the sword free. Blood poured from the stricken man’s mouth as he dropped and bled out on the ground. 

Two of Aleweard’s men rushed forward, seeking revenge and forgiveness in equal measure. Ivarr held his ground, a smile on his face. He met the two men, proud of their fearlessness. He evaded the first of their blows, not with his weapons, but with his speed, agility and astounding flexibility. He twisted, turned, bent and ducked as the sharp swords of his attackers whipped harmlessly past, unable to connect with their supple opponent, proving once again that Ivarr was not called the Boneless just because of his lack of virility. Seconds later Halfdan strode in and beheaded one man just as Ivarr’s axe cut the right leg from the other. The man went down screaming but Ivarr did not finish him, instead he twisted around looking for
new threats, but the remaining cowards were already dead, killed by those in the courtyard loyal to the brothers of Ragnar.