The Knight and The Healer: A Medieval Romance Read online

  The first thing she did, after lighting the tapers, was to go to several brass pots arrayed on the second shelf. She looked inside them and found all three were nearly empty.

  To refill them, she needed to make more of Uncle Alfred’s potion, ‘the brass pot remedy’. This was Uncle Alfred’s special potion. Her uncle’s research discovered this ancient remedy was used by the early Romans to cure gladiators’ wounds. He shared the formula with her, but she and he were the only ones who knew it in the region. In part, because it was complicated to make.

  The potion consisted of leek and garlic in equal amounts, pounded into a paste. Next, old wine and gall from a cow’s stomach was added. It was critical that the mix soak for nine days in a brass container. After the nine days of aging, it was applied to the wound area.

  She hoped she wouldn’t need the potion, but, as a healer she needed to be prepared.

  Chapter 5

  Several extra chairs had been brought into Sir Mal’s bedroom. Father Tobias took the seat on the left, his fraternal twin, Sir Morgan, sat on the right. While Sir Paul was definitely the Laird of Klayloch, he always made an effort to involve his brothers when there were serious subjects to discuss.

  “We cannot tolerate an attack on our knights. It shows total disrespect and weakens us both in the eyes of our Clan and our foes. We are just lucky Mal here isn’t dead today. Our problem is we don’t know what happened. His memory is very foggy about the events that put him in this bed.

  “He is missing his broadsword, “Intrepid”, and his stallion “Black.” That sword was given to him when he was knighted nearly a decade ago. And Black is a vetted and blooded stallion whose value in battle has proven invaluable over the years. Mal, and we, cannot afford to lose either.

  “Black’s recovery is the easiest. I have dispatched our best tracker, Denis Brewer, with a couple of knights and I expect to hear something soon. Mal tells me as soon as he physically restored he wants to find the sword and return it to his hilt. I’ve given him leave to do so.” Paul reported.

  “We also continue to suffer raids near Nor’castle. The losses aren’t particularly large but the tenants are complaining about the lack of protection from our House.

  “Here, I am of two minds. We either try to catch the thieves in the act and get the name of the sponsor but that could take some time or we raid the adjacent territory and recover out property. That creates the possibility of a full-blown feud with Clan MacDugal with the potential loss of life. What do you think?” Paul asked.

  Morgan was the first to speak. “I think we should go to Nor’castle and go in force. My men are getting stale with all the repetitive training. Let’s turn them loose on a real operation.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I want to make a full sweep across the border. We should check every cow and every sheep we can find to see if the animal carries our mark. If it does, there is no question we are entitled to claim it as our own. Then, there is the matter of compensation. I think for every animal with our mark we find, the farmer forfeits two head. And, since It needs to really hurt, perhaps we burn his stored hay and grain. I want these bastards to shiver in fear at the thought of ever touching our property again.

  “I think that fancified Laird, Sir Victor de Burque, will feel obliged to pay his tenants for the damages and that should put a big crimp in his purse.”

  Paul asked “How long do you think we should be gone from our castle?”

  “I think a fortnight would be just long enough!”

  “It sounds about right, but I do not want to go in blind. Mal, you’ve used spies before. Do you have a couple we can use? Your men are seasoned and they know what they are looking for.

  “Sure, I can do that…but I can’t even get out of this bed without help. So, it looks like I can’t be going along with you on the strike. I’ll have to stay here and recover with the pretty Beth.

  Boos and whistles ensued as the men filed out of the room.

  *

  It was midafternoon and The Dancing Goat was nearly empty. The brew house was just north of the Castle’s main gate. The brew master produced decent ale while his wife waited on tables. They were long-time residents of the Castle grounds and provided Castle Klayloch with much of its brew.

  Paul and Morgan had taken a seat at a table near the back. They were nursing a couple of cold ales.

  “Have you met Mal’s spies before,” asked Paul.

  “I may have met one but I’m not sure. They like anonymity. Mal swears by them though, so I’m looking forward to their report. They should be here any minute.”

  Two men, dressed as peasants, entered the ‘Goat’. As their eyes adjusted, they saw the brothers in the back and waved. They joined them.

  “My Laird, Sir Morgan. Good to meet you in person. I’m Melchior Dunlay, this is my partner, Gavin McBee.” The older of the two spoke. “We just returned from Nor’castle an hour ago. Let’s talk after Gav and I have an ale, we’re a bit dry.” The brewmaster’s wife hurried to the table with two foaming mugs.

  Dunlay did most of the talking. He was clearly the leader but quite disheveled. “After we got to Nor’castle, we easily slipped across the border. We started by checking pens and pastures near the border. It didn’t take long to find animals with your marks. In one case, there were only sheep, no cows, on the farmer’s land. They were tended by a couple of young herdsmen. We saw no signs of soldiers.”

  “We must have checked a dozen farms and found your animals, mainly sheep, in every one. Some had quite a few while others just a random two or three. In no case did we see soldiers. I’m afraid most of the cattle have already been slaughtered or sent to market.”

  “We’ll need to take herders and drovers with us to get the livestock back where they belong” Paul observed.

  “Yesterday afternoon,” Dunlay continued “We did encounter a patrol of 30 or 35 footmen led by three knights dressed in Sir Victor de Burque’s colors. They were the only military we saw.”

  Morgan asked, “Were they heavily armed?”

  “No, Sir. The soldiers just carried pikes and the knights’ light armor with swords.” Gavin McBee finally spoke.

  “You men have done us a wonderful job. What do we owe you?” Sir Paul inquired.

  “Absolutely nothing, Sire. Sir Malcolm has already taken care of us.” The two men excused themselves and quickly left the ‘Goat’ leaving the brothers the bill.

  “Well, that was good news. It sounds like surprise will be on our side. When do you want to do it?” Morgan asked.

  “I’m getting increasingly angry as I sit. The nerve of Laird de Burque permitting this kind of activity. I’m thinkwe should take 50 knights and footmen and hit them hard. We should do so as soon as possible. I can hardly wait. I don’t anticipate any fixed battles, but even so, our battle-tested lads will be no match for de Burque’s troops. Still, we need to leave a message they will never forget. Forfeiture of their animals plus destroying the winter feed supply should be the lesson they need.”

  “I’m thinking we should only take five knights, putting them in charge of ten foot soldiers each. I also want to take one of our clerks to deal with the distribution of the livestock we’ll be bringing home. Of course, every farmer in the area is going to claim they lost the most. And it goes without saying; we need some men from our stables to manage our horses. If only Mal were here, he could organize this in no time. But, he can do most of the tasks from his bed.”

  Morgan said “I’ll tell the troops who we will be going and when. I think it is a great idea to take a clerk to help sort out the spoils. We should be ready to march in 48 hours.”

  Each took his mug in hand, clicked with the other and said, in unison, “to victory.”

  *

  Two days hence, the street was crowded with sixty plus soldiers and support staff. Sir Paul was at the head, Morgan was situated about halfway down the column. Upon Paul’s command, the men began the march toward Nor’castle. The men were in high spirits and began singing marching chants that served to keep the units in step.

  The soldiers’ family members had shown up at the early assembly hour to bid their loved ones good luck and good bye. As the men began their march, the family members slowly returned to their huts and homes. In a half hour, it was as if nothing had ever happened there.

  It took a day and a half of uneventful travel to pass through Nor’castle and move on across the unmarked border. They picked up a number of local drovers to deal with the expected successes. In no time, they reached the first farm. No one was home, the pens near the house were soon emptied, marked sheep and unmarked together.

  A couple of the soldiers lit torches and began firing the hay barns. Still no sign of life from the farmers’ places. “Take care to only burn the hay and grain and leave the house and outbuildings standing.” Paul roared. He had dealt with overly exuberant men before.

  The drovers began herding the sheep back down the trail they had just traveled. The sheep were complaining loudly at being disturbed. Essentially, the same steps were repeated at each and every farm in their path. In one or two cases, local farmers watched sourly at the army’s work but said nothing.

  After a time, Paul and Morgan were sitting on horseback and conferring near the road. “I think we should expect company any time. Why don’t you send a few men out to give us advance warning if anything arises,” Morgan observed. They had burned 16 farms and “rescued” their sheep. The smoke from the fires was rising straight up into the sky in a series of giant plumes. “If this smoke doesn’t attract attention, I would guess they’d just surrendered the ground.”

  “How many places should we raid? I think we’ve pretty much accomplished what we came to do. What do you think?” Morgan asked.

  “I was hoping, for our troops’ sake, we would have met some armed resistance. Thus far, we’ve spilled no blood.”

  No sooner had he spoken, the men began shouting. By squinting, he could see a contingent of maybe a hundred or so men marching from the north.

  “Array the men, double deep and let’s confront these bastards.” The column flying Sir Antony de Burque’s colors proceeded down the road. As they approached, he noticed they were led by a knight on a white charger. He was waving a black flag signifying a request to parlay.

  “What the devil is that? Morgan exclaimed.

  “It appears they want to talk, let’s find out” so he nudged his stallion forward.

  Sir Paul had only met de Burque on two occasions but this appeared to be him. He was small and rather light boned. He had dark hair cut short, no beard and dark brown eyes. He lacked the robust physique of most Knights.

  “I’m suing for peace,” de Burque said as they approached each other.” I think you’ve taught the border raiders a sufficient lesson which, I dare say, won’t need repeating.”

  “So, to be clear, you are saying if we stop here, turn around and go home, there will be no repercussions?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Are you in agreement?”

  “We have an agreement, it would appear. Shall we seal it with a handshake?”

  “Done”

  Both men approached each other gingerly and, when close enough, shook the white gloved hand of the other. Without saying another word, de Burque wheeled his impressive charger and trotted away.

  Chapter 6

  Mal was eager to get out of bed and back to work. He found, to his dismay, he was quite a bit weaker than he expected.

  “Damn, Beth. This is ridiculous. I can’t believe this. I am weaker than a kitten.”

  “Well, we can start with eating your meals downstairs in the commons area. Sir Paul would enjoy your company and it is just about dinner time now. Judging from the reception you got when we arrived here, many people would like to see you up and about. It’s just you’ve lost a tremendous amount of blood and it will take a while for your body to replace it. Plus, that chest wound while it is healing, will take, at least, a fortnight before the pain will be all gone.”

  “Great, then. Would you have my aide-de-camp bring me suitable attire?”

  “I will and I’ll let the kitchen know you will be joining Sir Paul for dinner.”

  *

  In about a half hours’ time, Mal was dressed and ready to go. He confessed to being “a little light-headed” but otherwise good. The meals sent to his rooms had been appropriate for an invalid but not for a robust knight on the mend.

  As they wound their way down the stone stairs, Mal did find it necessary to rely on Beth for balance. As they entered the common area, many were gathering for the evening’s meal. The large hall was dominated by a huge firepit in the center. A fire was burning brightly, with the smoke rising to vents in the ceiling.

  The room’s central feature was a long, elevated table along the west wall clearly intended for the privileged. Each diner at that table sat in individual chairs. Soldiers, knights, families and other castle residents ate at a series of benches running perpendicular to the main table. The benches were fully occupied. After each meal, the benches would be stacked against the east wall until they were used as beds during the night.

  Servants were busy bringing trenchers loaded with food and tankards from the kitchen.

  When Mal entered the room, he was immediately greeting with warm applause. He blushed slightly and waved. Beth escorted him to the far end of the head table where Sir Paul and Lady Margaret were seated. Two chairs had been cleared to Paul’s right, one for Mal and one for Beth.

  When they arrived at the table, Paul walked around the table and embraced Mal. “You’ve been sorely missed, brother. I am delighted you are here. And, compliments to Lady Elizabeth, for the efforts she put forth in saving your ornery self.”

  A servant approached the two with a pitcher of warm water. The couple washed their hands and dried them with the table cloth as was tradition.

  The food was served on the trenchers, large round pieces of bread with two servings on each piece.

  Mal used his dagger from his belt, neatly sliced the trencher in half and slid Beth’s portion in front of her. The Laird’s table was served chicken and quail, a variety of cheeses including Grana and Gorgonzola, asparagus and beets.

  Beth turned to Mal and said “Have you tried the chicken? How do they get it so juicy, it is wonderful? Do they eat like this every night?”

  “Yes, pretty much. The cooks change the meats so some nights we have roasted beef and other nights we might be eating lamb. In any event, the food is really good I think.”

  “Well, I could certainly get used to eating this way very quickly.”

  “By the way, don’t eat the trencher. The cooks collect it after dinner and give it to the poor who gather at the kitchen door every night.” Mal advised.

  The remaining castle inhabitants were eating cod, a soupy gruel of barley and a piece of tourte or bread each.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner was delicious and Mal was excited to be reunited with his friends and brothers. But, as the night wore on, he was really starting to feel the effects of his prolonged confinement and the wound itself. He was worried about his abilities to carry out his official duty as Castellan or castle protector.

  Beth turned to him and said “I think it’s time for you to go back upstairs. I can give you something that will help you relax and take away the pain. Shall we go?”

  They made their excuses and made their way toward the stairs. As they approached the stairs, Lady Celia arose from a nearby table and strode up to the pair. “Sir Mal, my dear friend, how are you feeling? They are keeping you hidden, it seems.”

  “Doing much better, thank you,” Mal responded and felt Beth squeezing his arm and pushing him forward.

  They reached his room without further incident. Mal staggered back to his bed shedding his fancy clothes as he moved.

  Beth closed the door behind him and quietly latched the lock. She turned and joined Mal at his bedside. She wondered what she was doing.

  Mal was damp from the exertion. Beth leaned over and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I know you have heard this many times, Mal, but you are an exceptionally good looking man.” She leaned over and delicately kissed him on his lips. She was not prepared for what happened next.

  She felt a thrill running from her breasts to the tender spot between her legs. In her whole life, including her married years, she had never felt this thrill before. She felt her cheeks blushing. She sat back from Mal, hoping what had happened to her was not known to him.

  “Whoa, what just happened?” he stammered.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that!” she blurted.

  “I wondered which of us would be first to do that,” he smiled. “Its been on my mind since I opened my eyes and first saw you. I wasn’t sure I hadn’t died and you were some angel,” he teased.

  He reached around her and pulled her onto the bed. With his arm around her and her lying beside him, he leaned over and kissed her with passion.

  It felt like some powerful shock moving through her body, thrilling her as it went. Oh, my god, she thought, what is going on. I’ve never felt this way before. I am actually craving his body. She felt his hand on her breast, a breast no man had touched in three, long years. He was gently squeezing it.

  It was time to kiss him again, and she initiated it. Her kiss triggered the same response as her first kiss had.

  There was a knocking at the door. Startled, Beth jumped from the bed, hastily arranging her smock. She unlatched the door and opened it.

  “Lady Meg, is something the matter? You seem flushed.”

  “No, Paul and I just wanted to see how Mal fared in his first outing.”

  Mal shouted from the bed. “Never better, never better.”

  “Well, Mal, you looked quite stressed by the end of dinner. You must have great recuperative powers because you look quite well now.”