Chapter Fourteen

E rec didn't expect Enide to apologize. She was right. She said she wanted him to do something. So, he would show her what a knight did. Not just any knight: a Fellow of the Round Table. King Arthur's knights proved their valor by undertaking grand quests.

Sometimes the High King himself would assign a task to a young knight. A beleaguered subject might require assistance that only one of the king's best could provide. Or men had been known to set out in search of beautiful maidens held captive by ogres, or mysterious treasures guarded by enchanted beasts. But those were exceptional occurrences. More often a squire who wanted to earn his dubbing or a knight bored with the routine of court life could be assured of an adventure simply by riding off and seeking one. King Arthur governed wisely, and his reach was long. That did not mean everyone obeyed the rules. It was never difficult to find a wrong to right.

In a trice, Erec would find a wrong, right it, and prove he was still as great a knight as he'd ever been.

"Ride ahead," he said in as commanding a tone as he could muster. He needed to think. He was going to fix this, but he couldn't bear her sad eyes upon him.

"As you wish, milord."

She rapped the palfrey with her crop and set it to flight. Now he felt even worse. He meant for her to ride in front to let Prudy set the pace. Riding as if to escape him, she would wear that horse out.

He urged his steed forward until he was close enough to keep watch over her but far enough behind so she wouldn't feel he was pressing her. His father was right. These roads were dangerous. And that was Erec's fault as well. He should have studied how Arthur kept Camelot's highways and byways patrolled. But he'd found kingship boring.

The road passed through a hilly meadow where blue-and-white flowers speckled the grass. Butterflies flitted about. Enide passed over a hilltop and out of his view. When he crested the hill, he noted that she had slowed.

Then he saw why. Five armed men waited in a thicket a little distance from the roadway. They were bold fellows. The stand of trees was so thin they were not at all hidden. Despite being within three leagues of his father's castle, Erec didn't know them. Which meant they should not be there.

One bolted forward. A second followed.

Enide called out, "Erec! There are five knights in that thicket, two coming straight for us!"

Erec felt as though he'd been struck. She thought she had to warn him? Did she think he was blind?

He yelled back. "Stay where you are."

"But—"

"Don't argue! And don't move!"

He shot off to meet his opponents. Anger fueled his strength. How low her opinion of him must be to think he could not rout five bandits. His only fear was that she might panic and flee. There could be more waiting in the woods. If they caught her while these five engaged him…

He smashed through the shield of the first. The would-be thief toppled from his saddle. Erec whirled to face the second. The man had a helmet but no ventail. With an easy thrust, Erec drove his blade beneath the rogue's chin.

The third man had moved along the thicket to emerge from a higher vantage point. Erec did not wait for him to charge down the hill but met him midway. A hard blow knocked the villain sideways. Erec used the skill of his bay steed against the other's mount. When the man fell, the horse did too, crushing him.

Erec spun around, looking for the others. The fourth was galloping toward Enide.

Furious, Erec charged, catching up to whack the bandit across the spine with his lance. He slid from his horse to the dirt. Erec would have abandoned him, but the fool stood and reached for his sword.

Erec sprang from his mount and unsheathed his own. One mighty blow separated the scoundrel's head from his shoulders. He did not wait for the corpse to fall before he spun around looking for the fifth.

The last was not far away, watching in terror. With a weak cry, he slipped from his horse, dropped his weapons, and ran. Erec did not give pursuit. He would not kill an unarmed opponent, he could not drag a prisoner along on a quest, and defeated bandits could not be trusted to ride into court and surrender.

Erec gathered the horses. Wearily, he looped their reins together and headed back to his wife. If she was amazed, he would be insulted. He had merely dispatched a few louts.

She stood on the roadside, trembling. Trembling . He felt cut to the bone. Had she no confidence in him at all?

He couldn't think what to say, so he merely put the reins into her hands. He needed to keep his shield and lance at the ready and his eyes on their surroundings.

"Take the horses. Lead on."

She made no answer except by her action—complete obedience. It was…awful.

They rode in silence. Erec didn't care where they went. Eventually, he must take charge, but for now, he was too angry to think straight. He was not angry with Enide. He supposed he must be angry with himself.

The sun began its descent. He had no idea where they were. His shoulders ached and he was tired. His opponents had been pathetic, but he was woefully out of practice.

It grew dark, and still, they came upon no town. Not even any shepherd's hut or hunter's shack. He had eaten nothing all day. He hadn't packed food either. Erec began to feel a bit ill. One was supposed to fast before undertaking a quest, not while on it.

"Lady!" he called. "Stop."

He gestured to the side of the road. At least they were not in the pitch-dark forest or at the foot of a wooded hill. Fields stretched off on either side. No one could approach without being seen from a distance. This was as good a place as any to make camp.

Enide struggled to tether the horses to the lone tree. It occurred to Erec she must be as tired and hungry as he was.

"Lady, I'll do that. You sleep." He was shocked by how ragged his voice sounded.

She turned about. "No, milord. You should sleep. You are wearier."

He wanted to argue, but he was tired of being at odds. With a nod, he stumbled to the tree, throwing off his helmet and hauberk. He collapsed on the soft grass and stretched out, laying his head on his shield. Vaguely, he heard footsteps and horses nickering, then his lady's soft voice murmuring. Even more vaguely, he thought he felt a warm cloak, soft as sable, being draped over his body.

Funny, he thought. He didn't remember packing a cloak.