“Ah, Sir Denys, m’lord. The Knight Of Ivy. Forgive me, I should have known from the armour, but like my bones, my eyes aren’t what they were, especially today,” the man said as Sir Denys helped him to his feet.
“Can you stand unaided?”
“Just about. It hurts, m’lord, but once I’m up I think I’ll be ok,” he said, as he leant on the side of his cart.
“What is your name, my good man?” asked Sir Denys, putting on a softer tone.
“Stephen, sir, of Knaresburgh. I’m a cloth merchant. Finest cloth west of the Ryngwoode. I’ve supplied your good lady mother many a time, sir.”
“In that case, Stephen, Cloth Merchant of Knaresburgh, we’d best get you home and you can tell me your story on the way. We’ve enough daylight to spare with no rush, and I’ll have someone come back for the bodies at first light.”
Sir Denys helped the merchant onto the cart and walked back down the road to untie his horse. The merchant’s horse had bolted, wearing its harness, and was nowhere to be seen. Denys threw together a makeshift harness from rope, which he tied to his horse’s saddle. He checked the wheels and had Lady Baucent pull the cart back onto the road, before climbing aboard himself.
“Right my good man, I think that should do. Time to be on our way and you can tell me how you ended up laying in the road a few feet away from a bunch of dead bandits.”
The merchant explained how he had been on his way home to Knaresburgh after a successful week travelling the local markets. His stock totally depleted, he had sent his earnings home in advance with his sons, as he always did, for safety.
“I usually try and keep further away from the edge of the Ryngwoode, m’lord, but Old Arthur, my horse, had been acting up, either his age or an oncoming illness, I couldn’t tell, so I decided to come this way as it shortens the journey. As you can see, it’s been a pleasant day, so I wasn’t rushing, but something in the trees felt… wrong.”
Sir Denys glanced into the treeline, he himself also having an uneasy feeling.
“Old Arthur was starting to get jittery and I started to hear something coming deep from the woods, gave me chills it did.”
“An animal? Or something human, like bandits?” asked Sir Denys.
“Neither, I dare say, m’lord.”
“Neither?”
“It were something inhuman, and like no animal I ever heard. Piercing screams, what sounded like drums, but… faster than any drumming I’d ever heard. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I came out in a cold sweat. Old Arthur got more and more agitated, so I commanded him to go faster. And then it all went quiet.” The merchant looked out across the fields, as if he didn’t dare look back into the trees.
Sir Denys wanted to press the man to carry on, but thought best to let the merchant take his time.
After a minute’s silence, other than the sound of hoofs on the road and the creaking of the cart’s wheels, the merchant continued his story. “I carried on down the road, aware that something were probably stalking me from the treeline. Old Arthur had calmed down by now but was still walking faster than usual, obviously still agitated by what we’d heard. Sensitive things, animals. Sense more than us, they do.” As if on queue he winced in pain, the cart jerking as it hit a hole in the road. “After a few minutes that’s when it all happened, and quick it was. From the treeline the bandits appeared, slashing at the reins on Old Arthur, and forcing him to stop. I told them they were wasting their time, that I had nothing of worth, which were true as I’d sent it all ahead…”
“With your sons, yes…”
“Aye, with my sons, m’lord. Anyway, where was I… oh yes, I could tell at that moment that if there was no money they could take then it’d be my life they would have. I cursed myself for being so stupid to come this way on my own, with no guard. I closed my eyes, ready for the sword or axe to end me, and that’s when the screaming started again.”
“The screaming?” Sir Denys asked.
“Aye m’lord, the screaming and the drumming. The sound filled the air, piercing my ears like an arrow. ‘Tweren’t the bandits neither, they looked as horrified as me. They started to run back into the trees and that’s when I saw what were making the noise. The spirits of the Ryngwoode.”
“Spirits?” Sir Denys asked, mockingly.
“Aye, spirits, or demons maybe. They saved my life, so they ain’t demons to me. All clad in black, spikes growing from their arms and legs. Under their black hoods I could just about make out their pale faces, with hollow eyes that bled black, the blackness running down their faces. Within seconds they had killed all the bandits and disappeared back into the forest.” The merchant took a second to rearrange himself in his seat, his wounds causing a clear discomfort. “Sounds like one of the stories told to scare the children, I know. And no one down the tavern will believe a word of it, but it’s true, as true as I’m sat here now talking to you.”
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To be continued…
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The Knight Of Ivy Soundtrack: