“It shall not last.”
“I beg to differ; this mere woman bested you. Either that says a great deal for her skills or not very much for your own. You are a pathetic excuse for a knight.”
“We shall see.”
“I anxiously await the day.”
The air was crackling with hazard. Toby’s head came up and her big eyes focused on Kenneth. The knight, however, was wearing that oddly amused expression again, the same one he had held when he had told her of all of the knights he had thrashed upon his capture. He is enjoying this, she thought.
“Do not provoke him, Kenneth,” she whispered sternly. “You are not carrying any weapons.”
Kenneth glanced at her before returning his attention to de Roche. “I do not need any weapons against him,” he said loud enough for Hamlin to hear.
“My mother could best you, St. Héver.”
“And your mother was a tasty bit of flesh when I bedded her.”
De Roche suddenly reined his horse around. With a roar, he charged at Kenneth but Toby suddenly stood up to defend him, throwing herself in front of Kenneth. She was half way across his lap when de Roche rushed at him, sword drawn. Only fast thinking by Kenneth saved Toby from being gored; he very swiftly reined his horse around so that his back was facing de Roche. The man’s broadsword glanced off of his armor. But he was still furious and Kenneth was in a very bad position with Toby lying across his lap.
Quickly, Kenneth dropped Toby to the ground. She landed on her feet but stumbled backwards, her balance off with the pain in her torso. Any movement was difficult. As Toby watched in horror, de Roche charged Kenneth again with his sword but Kenneth managed to side step him, grabbing the hilt of the sword as de Roche’s horse slipped in the snow. Suddenly, Kenneth had a weapon and he used the butt end to smash de Roche on the back of the neck. De Roche started to go down, but not before he unsheathed a dirk that was strapped against his leg. As he fell forward, he shoved the dirk into Kenneth’s right thigh.
Toby screamed, bringing the entire army to a halt. From his position far forward, Mortimer began to charge back through the lines to see what the commotion was about. By the time he reached the middle of the column, Kenneth was dismounted and preparing to drive the broadsword into de Roche’s chest.
“Stop!” Mortimer roared. “St. Héver, drop the sword or I will kill you where you stand.”
Toby rushed to Kenneth’s side. “No, my lord,” she stood in front of Kenneth with her arms spread as if to shield him. “He was only protecting me.”
Mortimer wasn’t looking at her; he was still focused on Kenneth. “Drop the weapon, St. Héver. I will not tell you again.”
Kenneth could see from his peripheral that there were at least two crossbows trained on him, probably more. The broadsword fell to the ground and he grasped the hilt of the dirk protruding from his leg, ripping it free and tossing it away. Blood poured down his leg as he stood there with Toby still in front of him. From the beginning of the fight until this very moment, his stone-like expression of calm had never changed.
Mortimer was still glaring at him, though his distaste seemed to be more focused on de Roche at the moment.
“What started this?” Mortimer demanded.
De Roche was picking himself up off the ground. “A disagreement, my lord.”
“Obviously,” Mortimer snapped. He eyed Kenneth, who kept his mouth shut, before looking to Toby. “My lady? Would you be truthful with me?”
Toby didn’t want to get Kenneth in trouble. “I… I am not entirely sure, my lord,” she said. “I was not paying attention to what was said. But de Roche was the one to make the first move.”
Roger cocked an eyebrow at his knight. “Is this true?”
De Roche looked defiant and ashamed at the same time. “Aye, my lord.”
Roger’s dark eyes flashed and he leaned forward on his saddle. “You will cease this foolishness, both of you,” he hissed. Then he looked at Toby. “My lady, since you are well enough to defend your husband’s knight, then you are well enough to ride at the head of the column with me.”
Toby shook her head. “My lord, I assure you, I am not well enough in the least. I would prefer to ride on the wagon.”
“You will ride with me.”
“I want to stay with Sir Kenneth.”
“I am not giving you a choice.”
Toby gazed steadily at the man, feeling her anger rise. “It is not your choice to give. I will choose my own company and I choose to stay with Sir Kenneth. Go ride with your retainers and soldiers for I want no part of you.”
Mortimer looked at de Roche and tipped his head in the lady’s direction, a silent command for the knight to force her into submission. De Roche moved towards Toby and Kenneth suddenly came alive, striking the man in the jaw with his head-sized fist and sending him reeling. Soldiers began to move towards Kenneth but Toby swooped down and picked up the heavy broadsword, swinging it at two of the soldiers and slicing through their tunics. She cut one man substantially in the stomach. Kenneth saw what she was doing and, not wanting her to injure her ribs further or find herself bound and gagged, took the broadsword away from her and tossed it out of range. But de Roche had recovered from Kenneth’s strike and was moving towards the man with a nasty-looking dirk.
