01 Blood of the Cross by Kevin Ashman

Author:Kevin Ashman [Ashman, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, History, World, Medieval, Historical Fiction
Amazon: B00EINS1K6
Publisher: Silverback books
Published: 2013-08-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The Port of Messina

Italy

Garyn and Dafydd walked through the port, fascinated by the buzz of activity around the moored fleet. They had been travelling for almost a month, first by ship across the channel to Calais and then by horseback, down through France to Marseilles on the Mediterranean coast. On the way their party had joined with other crusading groups until over a thousand men at arms reached Marseilles. The combined lords had paid a handsome price for a fleet of Merchantmen to carry them to the Holy-land. Forecastles had been added to the ships as defensive positions and they had sailed without incident to land in Messina days earlier. Cadwallader took the opportunity to resupply the ships and ordered his men to spend time ashore, before the fleet embarked on the final leg to Acre.

‘Another few days,’ said Dafydd, ‘and we will set foot in the Holy-land.’

‘Your eagerness is impressive,’ said Garyn.

‘I am indeed eager,’ said Dafydd, ‘it is the dream of all Knights to serve the lord against the infidel so why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You are no Knight,’ said Garyn, ‘at least, not yet.’

‘No, I have three years left in service,’ said Dafydd, ‘but out here, opportunity can fall at the feet of a man and a Squire can be elevated to Knighthood earlier than expected.’

‘What sort of opportunity can cut short service?’

‘An act of bravery worthy of a Knight,’ said Dafydd. ‘All I have to do is carry out such a feat and I could well be endowed with the honour before my time.’

‘Why are you in such a hurry?’

‘It is my calling,’ said Dafydd. ‘My father’s line were all Knights and my ancestors fought at Hastings. I was apprenticed to the house of Cadwallader at the age of ten and served the Lordship’s table as page before taking the mantle of Squire. It is the true path of every Knight but I am impatient and want to carry my family’s coat of arms into battle.’

‘Do you not fear death?’

‘I fear only the manner of the falling,’ said Dafydd. ‘To die in battle is a noble end and a chivalrous death ensures quick passage to our Lord’s glory.’

‘But what about the pain?’

‘If pain is the price demanded then that is what I will pay.’

‘Have you ever seen a dead man?’

‘Who hasn’t? These are hard times, Garyn. Starvation and disease take many at home and brigands are hung regularly at the crossroads outside his Lordship’s estate.’

‘I hear battle is a different thing altogether,’ said Garyn. ‘Combatants slip in the entrails of the fallen, wounded men crying in agony and seas of filth turning the air rancid.’

‘These are the tales of cowards,’ said Dafydd, ‘besides, those who allow themselves to fall in such circumstance do not deserve to be called Knights. No, I will not fall, Garyn. My fate is to be victorious and win recognition on the field of battle, like my forefathers before me. When I return home, I will rise to the court of Llewellyn himself as a trusted man.

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