The Knight's Wife - Part 2

Previously: The Forest - A knight, his wife and the squire stopover at a small inn. From the ancient forest behind the inn, something starts watching them with an unhealthy interest…

After a night of hard rain, the next day arose calm and peaceful. The sky was pale blue and a watery sun shone down upon the inn. Yet it never penetrated the gloom which still emanated from the forest.

The Knight and his retinue couldn’t have been happier about it. They settled their accounts with Tom and left soon enough.

The Squire was glad to get away. Thanks to Tom’s insistence his beautiful clothes now smelled of stables. Bits of hay still clung to the clothes despite the ferocious beating they had received. He was mighty glad that they were only two day’s away from the so-called manor, where hopefully civilization awaited him.

Isabel was equally glad to get away, though she dare not say so. When she had awoken that morning and thought about last night she had felt afraid. But for a different reason. The morning had brought about a freshness of mind, only begotten from a well deserved sleep. Her first impulse to regale her husband with tales of the red eyes was checked by a memory.

A memory of a young servant girl, in her father’s castle, who had been dragged off for cross examination, to his Majesty’s court, after she’d been caught telling tales. Tales of wood sprites who she claimed talked to her. She was never heard of or mentioned again in the castle.

Isabel, having no knowledge of her husband’s view on witchcraft, thought it prudent to assume that he might have an unfavourable opinion on the matter. He was after all in his Majesty’s service.

Isabel was afraid, that her other-worldly sighting would surely mark her as a witch. And a witch, as everyone knew, had only one destiny — a funeral pyre. Since Isabel had no desire to depart from her life so unceremoniously, she held her tongue.

Meanwhile, the Knight led the party, silent and content, enjoying the beautiful day. He too yearned to reach the so called manor, where he would finally be rid of his tiresome Squire.

But the peace didn’t last long. For that morning, the Squire seemed quite excited by their proximity to their destination.

“What sort of staff do you intend to keep M’lord?” he demanded as his horse trotted up to the Knight’s side. “Do you intend to establish a Court of your own?”

The Knight sighed.

Ever since he had helped Isabel’s father win a battle, he had been showered with nothing but good fortune. The Lord had presented him with a manor, a squire and his own daughter’s hand as reward. And he had been very pleased with his wins. He had never had a squire before and had foolishly imagined that having one would make his life easier. How wrong he had been.

The Squire seemed to have a high opinion of himself and a lowly one of everyone else. Though he attended to the Knight’s needs judiciously, he never hesitated to complain or ask too many questions.

“I do not know,” the Knight replied curtly.

“But surely you must have given it some thought,” the Squire asked in open shock. “A Court of your own will make you a Lord of your realm. And a big house does not run itself. You will need lot of servants and serfs.”

“Which is where you and M’lady yonder are very welcome to help. I insist upon it,” the Knight told him sternly.

“Run the manor for you M’lord?” The Squire looked scandalized. “ But I am sure that is not how things are usually done.”

“M’lady,” the Knight desperately called back to his wife. “What say you? Surely you have ample of experience in these matters?”

Isabel didn’t appear to have heard him.

“M’lady?” The Knight pulled his horse to a stop and turned to frown at his wife.

His wife seemed to be looking off into the horizon, lost to her thought.

The Knight coughed loudly.

His wife snapped out of her trance.

“Are you still very tired Lady Isabel?” the Knight asked politely.

“M’lord, I am so sorry,” she apologized, stricken to see both men staring at her so. “No no, I like listening to the birds. They sing so pretty.”

“That they do indeed,” the Knight acknowledged.

“You were asking something of me?” Isabel asked meekly.

“I was saying to Squire,” the Knight continued patiently, “I feel both of you, being members of the gentry, surely know how to run a manor better than a poor Knight.”

“Oh,” she looked even more stricken. “I am sorry M’lord, I am not well versed in that art. It is my sister who does excellent house-keeping. I think my father expected me to join the Queen’s Court.”

“Ah,” the Knight said as he digested this information. “Curses. It seems that none of us are best suited for this job.”

“Do not worry M’lord,” Isabel spoke in assuring tones. “I am sure we will all do well in our new roles. Let us not despair so soon.”

The Knight beamed at this. Her calm and methodical approach to life pleased him intensely.

“But Lady Isabel, did your sister not wake up at the crack of dawn and go to sleep near midnight everyday?” asked the pesky Squire. “Surely you are aware how much there is to do whilst running a house?”

“That she did,” Isabel spoke, her stomach clenching. “But I will attempt to be as good as her. So should you attempt to be your best, noble Squire.”

The Squire’s face flushed. He turned his horse and trotted off with an air of injured dignity. Isabel smiled in relief and noticed the Knight doing the same. It gave her a warm feeling in her chest.

The Knight clicked his tongue and followed in the Squire’s wake. Isabel also urged her horse forward, but cast another wary glance at the trees on her left side.

She did not believe in imaginary things, but she was sure something was keeping pace with them behind the curtain of trees on her left side.

The Knight and the Squire were oblivious in their bickering and she felt very lonely lagging behind. But she did not want to tire her poor mare. Bessie, her childhood companion, was trustworthy but not young anymore. And she had certainly never undertaken such a long journey.

She also seemed to sense the presence of their stalker. She was skittish and neighing more than she normally did.

“Poor Bessie,” Isabel stroked Bessie’s mane. “Do not worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The mare tossed her head as though in disbelief at this empty promise. At the same time, the rustling of leaves on her left side stopped. Isabel, let out a gasp of relief, letting off pressure that had started accumulating on her chest, without her noticing.

Abruptly the two men in front of her came to a halt.

As Isabel slowed down, she spied a tall stranger, standing in the middle of the path, blocking their way.

“Hail fellows!” he called out in a loud jaunty voice. “Can a weary traveller join your party and get a ride till the next town?”

He was dressed in worn traveling clothes and a wolf skin cape, both of which were severely matted. His demeanour was strange. It was neither that of a servant nor that of a nobleman. And Isabel only knew of one sort of people who fitted his category. Renegades and thieves. The bag of gold, which lightly jingled while Bessie trotted suddenly felt very heavy on her side.

“Hail fellow,” the Knight responded solemnly. “Much as we’d like to help, you’ll have to wait for a horse cart. The next town is two days away and our horses are already over weary. They cannot carry any more burden.”

“I appreciate that,” the stranger bowed. “I don’t mind walking on foot by your horses. Above all else I desire company for my travel. A lonely journey is not a fun journey.”

“I’ll have to beg your pardon,” the Knight said even more firmly. “We would prefer to travel on our own.”

“If you say so M’lord Knight,” the traveller bowed again in acquiescence. As he raised his head, his eyes lingered on Isabel for half a minute. She felt a prickling of hair on the back of her neck. A warning sign.

“Farewell my friends,” he spoke lightly as he stepped aside and let them pass. The party trotted along silently, turned a corner and lost sight of the man. Casting back a quick glance Isabel saw that he had settled down on a rock, whistling and whittling a piece of wood with his knife. Only then did Isabel felt safe to speak.

“M’lord — “

“I know,” the Knight said tersely. “He probably has friends waiting down the road. We will have to take a different path. We might have to go through the woods.”

“The woods?” Isabel and the Squire spoke in unison, alarmed.

“It’s a dangerous place M’lord,” Isabel spoke quickly. “The innkeeper’s wife told me so last night.”

“There’s no other option,” the Knight told them quietly. “It’s either that, or perish at the hands of murderers. And maybe, they are scared of entering the forest themselves.”

He stopped, halting their party and casting looks around at the trees which lined the left side of their path. He spied the slimmest of trail further up the path and nodded at his companions to follow him.

Apprehensive and reluctant, Isabel and the Squire followed the Knight’s lead. The minute the horse stepped into the trees they were enveloped by a strange gloom and silence. There did not seem to be a lot of birds in the forest.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this M’lady,” the Squire mutinously muttered to Isabel. She had no breath left to reply. Her eyes kept swinging from side to side, looking for any sign of rustling leaves. An indication of a different kind of threat. She didn’t see anything and still felt keeping her counsel was the best thing to do.

They kept trotting up the trail, further up than Isabel felt comfortable going.

“M’lord, lets not go too far inside,” she softly called out to her husband. “The further we go in, the longer the return journey.”

The Knight shook his head and kept trotting up the path. Isabel felt pressure start to build in her chest again.

But before they knew it, the path widened and suddenly they were standing on the edge of a small clearing.

“We will halt here.” the Knight informed his companions. “We might as well stay the night. Leaving at the crack of dawn is the best option I can see.”

Isabel nodded mutely. It did seem like a sensible recourse given the circumstances. She slid down from Bessie’s back and guided the mare into the clearing. The Squire had also dismounted and was already bustling about, setting up camp.

The Knight removed the bags and saddle off the horses backs and let them graze around the clearing. Isabel meanwhile settled near the small fire which the squire was building, hunched and hugging her knees.

Somehow, in spite of her male escorts, she did not feel very safe. Her eyes kept sweeping the trees around the clearing and she jumped when the breeze rustled branches over her head.

Next: The Wolves

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