The Hunting “Accident"

This is a revised version in which the king does not attack the unarmed Elerde.. so the next story in succession will have to be scrapped and rewritten as well.

1

Spring 768

"I suppose I must," the King said without conviction.

His brother in law, Duke Lorin, measured his response carefully. "Sire, you missed the opportunity when Elmet first came under Christenlandian rule. This might be seen as a boon, if it pleases your majesty." He kept his eyes slightly averted.

"'Tis your kingdom by right, your Grace. But you choose not to involve yourself. So that means I must go and confront the arrogant bastard in your place.." Lawrence fairly growled the words.

Lorin raised one eyebrow . "My liege, I will be only too pleased to go in your stead. Just say the word…"

Lawrence interrupted, "Nay, that is not necessary. I know I am just trying to avoid the man. That is no reason not to do my duty by my people."

Lorin sighed inwardly. This is just how he knew their conversation would go.

That morning a message had arrived from Cynewulf, the governor general of the Queen's and Lorin's home country of Elmet requesting that the King himself make the journey to what was now the northern province of Christenlande to inspect the remarkable success achieved by the man Lawrence himself had sent to secure the frontiers in the north, Sir Elerde of Brittany. A completely routine request, to be sure. The complicating factor was the Elerde was sent not simply because he was an able soldier but to get him as far away from the Queen as possible without actually killing him. Lawrence as the King should have had to bear no particular consequences had he simply run his sword through the blackguard, and of late he was beginning to regret his mercy. He sighed.

"Send to Cynewulf that I shall be in Loidis within a fortnight.. we can travel via the Humber and the Aire which will hasten the journey. Please summon Sir Percy and instruct him I shall wish to have him accompany me." The King stood to leave.

"My lord, might you pass through Scumthorpe on your way to the river?" the Duke asked.

"Aye, I suppose so… ah, that is right, my cousin was fostered there.. and wants to come to court. Shall I take him along to Elmet or pick him up on the way back, do you advise?" The King waited for his trusted advisor's good sense.

Lorin appeared to ponder a moment, then suggested, "On the way, methinks, my lord. 'Twill give you a chance to judge his character on the journey."

Lawrence nodded briskly. "Send to him to expect to ride with me then, in four days time."

The trip up the Humber and then along the Aire with horses and baggage made the journey a mostly relaxing one with little need to ride. The castle in the capital of Loidis, the very one that the young Josephine and her brother Lorin had grown up in was not long from where the King and his company disembarked on the north bank. The King's own memory of his visit at eight years of age was not strong. He had been brought to this place to be betrothed to Josephine when she herself was but six. He could only recall thinking that the castle was rather small and was more of a wooden fortress than was Ratherwood in Lincoln where he had been a boy.

The streets of the town were festively adorned with banners and with the people who still remembered and loved their little Princess Sunshine and were happy to share that love with her husband. Lawrence was touched by the welcome and smiled and waved, appreciating greatly this respite from the discomfort and irritation he had felt anticipating the meeting with the Breton knight again.

The governor general stood with his officials in the courtyard with his officials as the royal entourage entered the gates and rode to where they would dismount and hand off the animals to grooms to care for.. The King was unmistakable even had Cynewulf not have been personally acquainted with him. He stood tall and regal in his armor whether mounted or standing. He approached the governor removing first his helm, handing I t to his squire, then each leather glove in turn. His long hair was lank and damp with sweat. Cynewulf caught the King's brief annoyed glance at the Breton knight, Elerde, who stood at his own right shoulder.

"Your majesty, welcome to your northwestern province. 'Tis gracious of you to come to inspect the progress we have made with our frontier fortresses at the foot of the Pennines." Cynewulf elaborately bowed to his liege lord as he spoke. Lawrence nodded briskly.

The governor went on, "My lord, you know the man who has made this such a success, Sir Elerde." He looked at the inscrutable man who stood carefully not looking into the King's eyes, not out of any desire to avoid them except as would be expected from a lesser.

Lawrence's eyes went to the Breton's face. His piercing blue eyes bore into it. "Elerde, then? We had heard you had chosen to use that name, Sir Robert."

Without looking up the knight replied, "Aye, sire. I find that the many Celts on the border are more comfortable with the Celtic part of my name. That is," he added, "with your permission, my liege."

Lawrence, still staring into the man's face, nodded his reply. He looked back to Cynewulf and gestured carelessly to his companions. "Lord governor, our cousin, Duke Gaylorde, who has graciously agreed to attend us on this tour of inspection. And one of our loyal knights, Sir Percy." These latter two exchanged bows with the governor, then, uncertainly, with Sir Elerde, the hurried to catch up as the King walked around the welcoming delegation and strode into the Hall.

In the Hall Lawrence looked about, thinking how much smaller it appeared even than he recalled. He stood waiting to be waited upon.

Cynewulf hurried up and called for refreshments, indicating a chair of honor for the King.

Duke Gaylorde glanced at the Breton knight. He knew the story of the man's advances to the Queen and his ensuing exile up here to the hinterlands by her husband and was enjoying the palpable tension between the two men.

For his part, the young knight, Sir Percy, who although not much younger than the King himself was startlingly youthful in his appearance, seemed to be looking about for someone.

"Will my lord the King take some refreshment?" Cynewulf inquired. The King nodded and went to sit where strong Roman style chairs fronted a hearth. The other men followed and sat once the King had seated himself. Elerde glanced at a servant, who nodded respectfully and hurried off.

"My liege, I have sent also for the Lady Jocelyn to attend us a little later. I believe you know her?" the governor general asked.

Sir Percy looked up sharply and a smile played across his lips.

Elerde, who had been silent to this point, inquired, "Sir Percy, you know the lady as well?"

Percy looked to the King, then back to the knight. "Aye, I met her when I delivered a small parcel and message from the Queen last year."

Elerde was intrigued, "A parcel? So you are the one who brought it.. who brought the messages from the Queen to her friend." He made sure he could catch the King's reaction to the exchange which in fact concerned a parcel meant for himself -- and was not disappointed. Lawrence looked sharply at him and then the Christenlandian knight, but he said nothing.

Elerde asked politely, as would be expected under the circumstances, , "And speaking of her majesty, the Queen --I trust she is well?"

The King's face darkened. Elerde thought he saw a faint smile sneak across Duke Gaylorde' s lips.

"We thank you for your concern, sir. She is quite well." The King had a severe look on his face not at all in keeping with his words.

Elerde now looked directly into the man's eyes. "'Tis most gratifying to hear it." Cynewulf eyed the two men cautiously.

Servants brought wine, and the men sat and drank, Lawrence asking general questions about and receiving brief answers on how the frontier had so easily and quickly been strengthened. Gaylorde had remarked languidly but with a hint of admiration, "It seems, sir knight, that you have a particular skill.. shall we say even talent.. for holding a border." Elerde had bowed his head in appreciation and this time ignored the King's irritable reaction.

Throughout their conversation, Elerde noticed the Duke watched the King surreptitiously, not entirely managing to hide amusement at any sign of the man's antagonism towards the knight. The King's cousin knew of course about the incident with the Queen a year before. His supercilious look and smile were ever present, but the Breton was observant and could detect the subtle reactions. He resolved to learn what these two men's relationship was beyond their familial connection.

"Ah, here is Lady Jocelyn. Let us leave more talks to the council chamber and enjoy this young lady's company for a nonce, with your permission, of course, my lord," Elerde said, glancing at the King.

Lady Jocelyn came in demurely, small, dark haired, doll-faced. Percy did nothing to hide his pleasure at seeing her again. She was more discreet. The men, even the King, rose to greet her, sitting again, when the lady was seated among them. Percy unabashedly smiled at her.

Elerde announced, "This lady wishes to accompany you back to visit her childhood friend, the Queen, if you will allow her."

Lawrence nodded, "That may be possible, lady. It shall not be for some weeks."

Jocelyn smiled and bowed her head. "I thank you, your majesty. 'Tis been a very long time since I saw her Grace. I am so anxious to be with her again."

Later that evening after Sir Elerde had had a chance to report fully to the King and to the other officials of the Elmet governing council on the status of the frontier strongholds and the company had feasted, he found himself alone in a chamber with the Duke. The man cast a considering gaze at the Breton knight and ventured boldly, "I know why he hates you, sir. I did not realize how much."

Elerde looked up surprised but cast his eyes down again quickly, saying nothing.

Gaylorde was not discouraged by his lack of comment. "It is a joy to behold. He has, methinks, found his match in you.. or mayhap his better?"

Elerde looked up again, this time irritated. "Sir, I have no idea to what you are referring."

Gaylorde just smiled, turned and left the chamber. Elerde looked after him, puzzling over Gaylord's purpose in the seeming conspiratorial tone.

Elerde thought, "This poseur, the cousin, he was trying to get me to say something untoward about Lawrence. He was fishing, methinks. He will bear watching."" If he had designs above his station it could well put the Breton's beloved Josephine at risk.

2

Their tour had taken them along the wild northern border of Elmet. At the strongholds Lawrence looked over and approved of the many preparations the soldiers had made under Sir Elerde's command. The fortifications had been strengthened, the battlements made to function better as stations for archers, and the provisions increased in case of siege. One of the most innovative improvements had been strategic tunnels that were so well disguised where they came out into the nearby countryside that shown one once the King could not easily find it again.

As he walked about with his long, confident stride, the King may no more comment than a nod or short acknowledgement. As cool as his outward demeanor was, it was becoming harder and harder not to admire the knight at least for his skill as.. aye, a general. Elerde caught the occasional approving look from the King and struggled with the conflict it brought about in him.

For throughout Lawrence was struggling with his feelings towards Elerde. He found himself wishing the man would be insolent or at least not so accomplished. He had no trouble keeping his temper in check, but this was not what he wanted, he realized. He wanted a reason to lose it. He admonished himself. "I sent him up here, and he has fulfilled his charge. 'Twould be folly to ignore that. "

During rides between the forts Lawrence found himself thinking about something quite different. He kept imagining his beloved Josephine as a young girl with long golden braids running along a brook he passed, or climbing a tree that he reached up and touched as he rode under its spreading canopy. His heart yearned to be back with her in Lawrencium. His body did as well, that much more with her would be lover so near now. He took whatever comfort he could from imagining her girlhood here. He coached himself to let the inspection tour play out peacefully and then go home to his dear wife. He smiled to himself, thinking, "Whatever has happened, I am the one who will do that."

Some weeks into their inspection tour, Elerde brought the King and his party to a well fortified manor in the northwest owned by a redoubtable Scots chieftain named Malcolm. Laird Malcolm was a tall broad man with heavy eyebrows and a trailing moustache. He had been one of the early raiders on the frontier but had come to an agreement for peaceful coexistence at the urging of the Breton. Duke Gaylorde, rightly so as it happens, suspected it was not military threat that had brought Malcolm into the Christenlandian fold. He watched Elerde and Malcolm when he could, trying to find some clue as to the connection. These two, however, kept their dealings, if any, close to their chests.

At a grand supper that first night at Malcolm's manor, the topic of hunting arose. The King was feeling relaxed and more or less content, as the rides of late were short, and he felt restored from the long journey at last. At Malcolm's boast that the stag hunting in the nearby woods was without equal he himself proposed they take time out from the arduous inspection of the fortifications for a hunt the next day. Malcolm accepted the suggestion eagerly. Percy concurred readily enough, and Elerde smiled his faint smile and nodded. Gaylorde chose to remain behind, claiming a desire to go walking in the countryside.

In the morning the hunting party set out. Malcolm had asked to see the marvelous arrows Lawrence carried as they rode to the edge of the woods. Lawrence had taken one from his quiver and held it out for both Malcolm and Elerde to examine. Malcolm took it and held it up to admire the hard wood the slender shaft was made of. The point was well-tempered metal. The fletching was in colors from Lawrence's escutcheon as well as the flag of Christenlande - white, azul, or. Elerde thought to himself, "The tribute to self is quite remarkable in this man.. or is it the need to make himself feel worthy?" Either way Elerde was delighted.,

Having remained at the castle the King's cousin set out to do some exploring of his own. He insinuated himself where he could with the local residents, within and without the manor. He listened as best he could, having no Scots Gaelic and finding the Northern accent difficult to understand, Nevertheless he gleaned enough here and there and in the town to have a reasonable guess as to just how Elerde was managing the peace with at least this chieftain. He smiled contentedly to himself and strode off to find a woman.

The morning's hunting was more sport than success. Malcolm had spotted a stag but his horse had tripped sideways a bit when he shot and he had missed the target, swearing mightily in Scots Gaelic.. Lawrence had suppressed irritation that Malcolm had even taken the shot. It was custom to let the highest ranking person take it. He chuckled at himself though, thinking "I must be becoming used to being King." He remembered the early months of his reign when he had almost felt like apologizing every time he issued an order. He had not thought to be King, but of course his brother's death had changed all that. He smiled to himself remembering how instrumental Josephine had been in helping him see himself as King. He knew when he told her about his momentary pique she would smile and laugh sweetly.

The midday brought time to dismount and take a meal. The horses were tied in a makeshift rope corral. The party found soft dry spots to sit and eat the meat, cheese and bread and to drink the ale the servants had brought. Lawrence enjoyed the peace and fresh air of the northern forest. He even dozed a little.

While he dozed, the Scots chieftain caught the Breton's eye and motioned him to withdraw. They separately contrived to find each other alone away from the camp. Malcolm addressed his former fellow mercenary. "So the King does not know, does he?"

Elerde casually leaned against a tree. "Of our relationship or of our arrangement?"

Malcolm nodded, "Either. Both."

"Nay, he does not." Elerde leaned to pick a bur off his tabard's hem. "He neither knows of our having fought together nor of our agreement to keep the peace."

Malcolm relaxed. "So no one will molest my rustling parties?"

"As a matter of fact, they will not even know about them. "Elerde had had to find some incentive for his old friend to stay a friend. He had not wanted to help the man in his theft of cattle and other livestock, but when it had come down to it, it had been the only way. He reasoned that a few missing sheep were better than dead farmers and villagers. And it had been the last trouble spot. Now his record in Elmet was without blemish.

"Aye?" the Scot replied. Then he changed the topic. "Ye area to be praised for so adeptly keeping the man ignorant of the corruption that is all around."

Elerde frowned but said nothing.

The Scot went on, "So this is the great Lawrence whose very existence vexes you so…"

Elerde lifted baleful eyes to the Scot.

"You are most restrained in your dealings with him, my friend," the Scot had continued.

Elerde sighed. "Malcolm, 'tis not a fit topic for us to discuss."

Malcolm eyed him cautiously. "Ye are not becoming his loyal follower, are ye, Elerde?"

Elerde looked down, his face unreadable. "There is no danger of that, my friend. Whatever the man may be, I have my own ambitions, and as long as he is between me and them..." He did not finish his sentence.

"The lady?" the Scot suggested.

Elerde scowled at his friend. "That is quite enough about the lady," he said, sternly. Then he slowly smiled. "Much more than that, my friend, much more than that." He stood straight. "I have done nothing here to discomfit him, except be. It appears that is quite enough for the purpose."

Malcolm laughed heartily, "I noticed! He does too. He must be under orders from the lady not to harm a hair on your dark curly head…"

Elerde smiled, but countered, "Nay, I think not. He is a slave to her in many ways, but she does not command and he does not follow. I shall give him that. He is the King."

Malcolm looked up to see how the sun was progressing on its journey across the sky. "That may be, but were I he you would not be here to be so ready to admire me." He started away. "We had better find our separate ways back. "

3

It was but an hour later that the hunters spotted a magnificent stag on a rise. They stilled their horses, quietly pulled arrows from their quivers and set them to their bowstrings. Lawrence was carefully taking aim, sure of his shot, when from his right he saw Elerde's own arrow notched in the bow. He shot the man an angry look, and Elerde lowered his bow, looking away discreetly.

The King again took aim, but the distraction had cost him his chance. The stag started, then turned and dashed away.

Lawrence glared at the Breton, but Elerde did not look at him.

Malcolm eyed his friend and his friend's royal nemesis. "We should return now," he recommended.

Lawrence was still glaring at the Breton knight who for his part had not raised his eyes. With difficulty the King pulled his stare away and said, "Percy, come, we will head back to the manor." The young knight nodded and waited for the King to lead off and followed him.

Malcolm and Elerde were left to exchange looks, then turn their own horses to go back. Malcolm chuckled, "Would ye truly have taken that shot?"

Elerde looked back at him betraying no answer on his features. He did suggest, "Shall we delay or go another way? I do not care to be much more in that man's company."

Malcolm laughed and nodded. "Nor he in yours, methinks!"

As Lawrence and Percy rode back through the forest with their small group of men at arms and servants, they came at last to a clearing atop a hill where they could see the manor in the distance. Of a sudden Percy caught movement at the edge of the clearing. "My lord, look there! It is a hart!"

Lawrence turned in his saddle and saw the animal. He thought to himself that it would be sweet to be the one to bring in the prize this da, and leave Elerde empty handed.. He took his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver to notch it. From his awkward position turned in the saddle he took aim at the animal.

"My lord, wait!" Percy called.

The King saw him. Just about to ride into the clearing was Sir Elerde, followed by Malcolm and their attendants. They appeared to have seen the hart first and were advancing on it to run it to ground. Lawrence caught a glimpse of an arrow protruding from the animal's flank. The hart sprang and in a moment where it had stood was the Breton knight, slowing and wheeling just then to call to his companions.

Elerde glanced up and saw the King. He stared straight at him, not moving."

Lawrence paused for less than a heartbeat. He felt himself let the arrow fly without altering his aim. The arrow flew swift and straight and right into the Breton knight's shoulder.

The King could not decide in those next few moments if he had acted reflexively, if he had slipped and let the arrow fly, or if he had deliberately aimed for the man. He saw Elerde jerk back, but the man did not fall from his saddle. He leaned forward, his hand pressed to his shoulder, a look of shock on his face. He glanced up at the King and bared his teeth in anger at him. "You!" he snarled. Then he slid off his horse and onto the ground.

"My God, sire, you have killed him!" Percy breathed.

Lawrence wheeled. 'Do not be ridiculous. He is not dead. I simply wounded him." The statement of responsibility struck him hard. He had. He HAD wounded Elerde.

He and his party rode directly to where Malcolm's stood. Malcolm was off his horse and at Elerde's side. Elerde was conscious but clearly in much pain. Lawrence dismounted and kneeled by him across from Malcolm. "Sir, you are wounded. My shot was meant for the hart." he began, questioning his own sincerity as he said it.

Elerde's lips drew back tight to reveal a snarl. "My heart, methinks! That arrow was meant to kill me."

Lawrence's face grew red. "How dare you, sirrah?!" he growled. "How dare you accuse me. If you would challenge me, be a man and put your sword and your life behind it, else hold your tongue."

Elerde glared back. "You have made that an uneven fight, my liege," he snapped.

Lawrence gave the prostrate man a darkly threatening look. Then he said in a grim voice to Malcolm, "Get this man to a surgeon. I shall not have his blood on my hands." He looked back at Elerde. "At least, not yet. I will set a guard upon you to wait until you are fit, then to accompany you to Lawrencium should you decide to make good your accusation."

The King turned then and strode over to his horse. He said not another word but mounted and rode off at a gallop back to the manor.

Percy hesitated, then bent to help Malcolm raise the wounded man to his feet. "Can you ride, " Percy asked Elerde.

Elerde nodded, his face full of pain, anger and hate. They got him back onto his horse, the arrow with the teal, gold, black and white fletching still protruding from his arm. Elerde leaned heavily and painfully on his horse's neck. Malcolm led Elerde's horse at an easy pace back to the manor complex where one of his own men at arms with skill dressing battle wounds removed the arrow and cleaned and bandaged the wound.

He started to throw away the arrow. Elerde shot at him, "Nay! Give it to me!"

Percy had followed Elerde's horse. He could hear the party's combined entourage muttering amongst themselves, turned and shot them a glance that silenced them.

He sought out the King when he got back to the manor, while Malcolm was taking the Breton to the surgeon. He found him in their chambers directing servants to pack up all their gear to leave immediately.

The King was talking to two men at arms, who then turned and left the chamber. Then he turned to the younger man. "Make ready. We are leaving immediately for the capital."

Percy's face was filled with hope. "Might we then escort the Lady Jocelyn, my lord?"

The King looked back at him absently, but he did not say nay.

Sir Percy happily bade the lady to prepare herself for the journey when they arrived again at the castle. Meanwhile Lawrence had met with the commander of the home garrison there and put him temporarily in charge of the border fortresses.

The King spoke little and never without absolute necessity throughout the rest of the journey. She could not guess until riding alongside Percy she asked, and he told her why the King was deadly silent.

The King's cousin seemed almost buoyant in his mood. Gaylorde, who so often looked bored and acted annoyed was unaccustomedly cheerful and chatty the entire fortnight.

It was nearly Beltane when the party returned to the castle at Lawrencium. Lawrence dismounted, a grim smile for the Queen whom he could see rushing through the door with McGuinness right behind to greet him , a look of joy on her face at his own return.

Next: Lawrence Tells Josephine about the Hunting Accident