Read Online A Dishonorable Knight by Michelle Morrison - Free Book Online

able to put up with him for more than a fortnight."
    Cynan and Bryant laughed and slapped
their friend on the back.
    "Seems she's just met you and
she already knows you better than both of us," Cynan said.
    "More like she's well versed in
being difficult, herself," Gareth said, stung as he stalked off into the
woods.
    In spite of herself, Elena joined in
Cynan and Bryant's laughter.
    ***
    As they traveled that afternoon,
Elena noticed that they were steadily climbing a gentle incline. The trees
soared overhead, meeting in a canopy of pine needles overhead, filtering the
light to a cool green. The layers of pine needles on the forest floor muffled
the horses’ hooves and absorbed any quiet comments the men made. Elena found
herself actively listening to the chatter of squirrels, and the song of birds
for the first time in her life. She felt an odd sense of peace that had nothing
to do with fine clothes or good food or hot, scented baths. The anger she had
forced herself to maintain over the past two days slowly dissipated and Elena
actually found herself enjoying her strange adventure.
    They arrived at the small village
that was their destination just as the sun dipped below the horizon in a
brilliant splash of gold and orange. Although Elena was tired, the beauty of
the sunset and the warm glow it cast over the small village only added to her
sense of peace. She found herself looking forward to a real bed with an
appreciation she had never before felt.
    To call the village small was being
generous. Elena glanced at the four stone houses that were gilded by the
setting sun, becoming for a fleeting moment, as grand looking as a stone
fortress or royal palace. Small children scampered in and out of the open
doors, startling wandering chickens. Two women returned from the stream,
carrying a heavy basket full of wet clothes between them.
    Smoke drifted lazily up from two of
the houses' chimneys, carrying the smell of roasting meat to the weary
travelers. Elena's mouth watered at the scent and her stomach rumbled
appreciatively. Taking a deep breath, she felt the peaceful quiet of the
evening soak into her very bones.
    "I never knew England could be
so beautiful," she murmured, not intending for anyone to hear her.
    "That's because you're not in
England. You're in Wales," said Gareth who was walking, leading her horse.
    "What? Wales? But I though you
were going to take me back to King Richard?" she cried.
    "I never said that. I said I
would get you to safety. We did not come within a day's traveling distance of
one of the border lord's keeps, so I will have to leave you at the first abbey
we come across until word can be sent to Richard and he can send someone to
fetch you."
    "That is simply not acceptable!
I can't just sit in some Welsh abbey braiding my hair while I wait for an
escort to Nottingham."
    "Then perhaps you should assist
the sisters in their charitable works to make the time pass more quickly."
    "Why can't you escort me to
Nottingham?"
    "Because I go to see my father
in Gwynedd," Gareth said tightly.
    "You mean you're deserting the
king?"
    "I have no set duties with
Richard. My father I have not seen in two years."
    They stopped in front of the farthest
of the small houses. As Cynan and Bryant dismounted, the door burst open and a
short burly man came out, quickly followed by what looked to Elena like at
least a dozen children. The burly man gave Bryant a quick hug before releasing
him to the children who climbed all over Bryant, laughing and shouting. While
his arms were burdened with three toddlers, a dark-haired young woman who
looked to be about sixteen took advantage of his position and bestowed a wet
kiss on the corner of his mouth.
    "The would-be fiancée,"
Cynan explained in Elena's ear as he helped her down from her horse.
    "Ah," said Elena, trying
unsuccessfully to smother a smile.
    They were ushered inside by the man,
who introduced himself as Gruffydd, and his wife Catrin, a short plump woman
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