Falconburg Divided (The Falconburg Series Book 1) by Sarah Waldock

Author:Sarah Waldock [Waldock, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-16T18:30:00+00:00

The castle had a narrow drawbridge that might be lowered to permit the passage of a single horseman to parley and might not then be easily rushed; and this was lowered to allow the castle party out. Gyrfalon strode out – taking horses were superfluous – followed by Annis with Father Michael bringing up the rear. The assembled army peered to catch a closer glimpse both of the feared warlord and of his reputedly beautiful hostage.

Neither disappointed.

Gyrfalon, clad in his customary black, exuded confidence and charisma and scowled at the serried ranks from under his half helm that was appropriately intimidating; and Annis shone in the dull day like a pale sun in his wake, her beauty enhanced by the serene contentment that glowed from her. The way to the church was guarded by a contingent of church knights and their footmen, Falk’s personal bodyguard, who ranged along the path they must take. Annis held up her head and scorned to show fear of them for her lover.

“She looks like a little nun,” someone muttered.

Of course there is always one with more gall than sense.

A fellow must needs try to be a hero and kill the fearsome warlord and leapt out swinging his sword in a deadly attack.

Gyrfalon’s sword was out, parrying, and then moving in one fluid sweep to take off his attacker’s head ere the fellow knew he was dead. Gyrfalon shook the blood from his blade, wiped it on the dead man’s cloak and beckoned to the nearest captain of men.

“You – is this the usual usage now of church knights for a parley – to use it for treacherous attack?”

The very young knight was shaking with fear – and rage.

“It is not, Lord Gyrfalon,” he said “I apologise for the rash action of my man.”

“As well you might; his indiscipline speaks not well of the commander,” said Gyrfalon “I suggest you report his behaviour and your failure to Lord Falk. He will undertake such discipline as he feels necessary on you and your unit.”

“Yes my lord,” said the knight tightly. “I shall do so; and I shall not fail too to report your restraint. I thank you for your courtesy.”

He hated having to say it, as Gyrfalon could see; but none might have truly blamed Gyrfalon had he struck off the commander’s head too.

Gyrfalon nodded curtly.

“Pray inform your other men that if they feel rash, they are not out of range of my bowmen” he said “If any other attack thus treacherously, the truce will be over and all within range will fall dead. And my best archers can reach the church.”

“Yes my lord; I shall see that this is known” said the knight.

If it were true, and he indeed had men capable of such – as was not impossible, taking account of plunging fire – Gyrfalon might have had them all cut down without mercy.

“What is your name, boy?” asked Gyrfalon.

“I am Sir Lyall of Wittensham, Lord Gyrfalon” said the knight.

Gyrfalon nodded.

“You have courage and courtesy, Sir Lyall; I will remember you,” he said.

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