BY CHANCE AND FATE

 

            They met one cool, early April evening quite by accident in a clearing of the forest that surrounded the castle both resided within, which both enjoyed frequenting to be alone with their thoughts.  Neither knew the other personally although both had seen the other around the castle, and she had on more than one occasion observed him during sparring practices with a number of the guards as he evidently learned the ways of the blade; both were quite surprised when he stumbled upon her that night, and neither was quite sure what to do at first.   He was eighteen, the son of the castle's guard captain, and she, almost sixteen, was the daughter of a nobleman who resided within the castle.  Both had come to the clearing that night to enjoy the peace and solitude and ponder on problems and their dreams and desires for the immediate future, but neither minded –at all in fact—that the other was there after the initial surprise of his finding her and their finding out about their shared liking for the solitude and peace of the clearing on a bright, cool, clear night.

            They sat together in the middle of the clearing, both gazing up at the stars glittering brightly in the velvet sky above, silence the only sound save their breathing and the occasional cricket’s chirp.  He took a momentary look over at her, a question in his mind to ask her, and became completely breath­less and speechless beholding her beauty by the light of the night's full moon and splendid star light; she was absolutely gorgeous, more beautiful in fact than any Lady he had seen in his life he would have sworn on his vary life, and the moon's pale, brilliant light magnified and amplified that beauty ten fold.  Taking notice, she looked over at him, their eyes locking, as he continued to take in her beauty, too spellbound to do anything else, asking him, “What?”

            Her eyes, a beautiful emerald green mesmerized him all the more, adding to and magnifying her beauty as he stared into them, but now she found herself caught in the mystery of the moment, staring into his brilliant sky blue eyes.  He managed to answer, turning away feeling kind of childishly awkward, “Nothing.  I was going to ask you something, but as I turned to ask, I forgot what I was going to say.  I feel rather foolish now.”

            “Don't,” she said softly.  “It happens to everyone.”  She looked back to the stars, as did he, both lost in thoughts of what the other was now thinking of them.

            They continued to meet in that very clearing every night, and any other time they could possibly get the chance, for the next four months to talk and share their wants and desires with the other while at the same time simply enjoy the feeling of companionship they shared with one another.  During this time each professed their feelings for the other, and she gave to him as a token of her love a plain, elegant and beautiful ring of silver; he had nothing to give her but his heart –and she most definitely already had that—for he himself had no money with which to get her a gift, spending all his time either training or with her, but she was not concerned because he had already given her something she had never before had:  true joy and happiness and the devotion of a true and noble heart.  She was happy just spending time with him as was he with her, and she did not need or even wish material gifts from him because there was nothing more precious to her than what he had already given her.  But, as is the way with Fate’s sense of humor some times, their happiness was not to last long.

            They met for a final time in that clearing at the end of that four month's, six days after her sixteenth birthday; he was dressed in chain armor, his sword across his back, riding a black horse; his saddlebags were full, filled with other personal items, and he had a mace, axe, and shield strapped to his horse.  “Why have you come here riding your horse, dressed so as if you were off to war?” she asked him.

“My father has been displeased with me spending so much time with you of late, and he tried to forbid me seeing you, saying that nothing could come of our relationship.  I told him that he could forbid me from seeing you all he liked, but such forbiddance would not keep me from you because I truly love you.  So, he kicked me out of the house.  I have no where to go, and though I could stay on here with the guards to continue my training while serving with them, I feel that it is time I journey to the Imperial City to enter training for knighthood as I always said I'd one day do.   I’m sorry that I must go now like this after just having found you, but I must.”  Tears came to her eyes, and he dismounted, gently taking her into his arms and whispering softly in her ear, “Please don't cry, my darling Rebekah.  I promise to come back to you when I have completed my training and attained my knighthood.   I don't want to go, Gods know I want to stay here with you, but this is the time I must go.  I must find a way to live on my own now that I've been kicked from my home, and I want to be something more than a guard as my father has been all his life.  I promise I'll return for you.”   He repositioned her and himself so that they were looking into each other's eyes as they had been on the night they had met.  “You have my heart, remember?  I'll be back for you.  I could no more live without you than I could live without my heart.”

            She sniffed.  “You'd best do so,” she answered.   “I could not imagine living without you either.”  They embraced one final time, and he remounted.

            “Bye, my darling Rebekah.  We'll be together again.  I prom­ise you that.”  And so he left, starting off for the Imperial City and his destiny as she started back to the castle, the most disconsolate she had ever been.

            Almost nine years later, on a cool April evening shortly after his birthday, he found himself once again sitting alone at the palace of the Imperial City, seated in the great hall and dressed in typical fashion:  all black with his sword at his waist, a silver chain with the ring Rebekah had given him upon it around his neck because it had grown to small for his finger, and his light cloak resting on the back of his chair.  The hall was filled with many knights and noblemen, lords and ladies, and barons as well as the Emperor and his wife.  Practically all gathered knew of him, but few truly knew him and still fewer knew him for whom he truly was.  Most just kept their distance from him because he had earned quite a reputation on the battlefield and an even worse one for his quiet, almost dreary manner.

            He sat examining those present, looking from face to face in the hopes of finding a familiar one that knew him and could tolerate his presence so as to pass the time with some form of conversation rather than his own thoughts, when he stumbled upon the face of a beautiful young lady of about twenty-three or twenty-four sitting at a table across the room filled with a number of lords and barons and ladies though she seemed quite alone there as was he at his table.  This intrigued him slightly, but it was not the main reason why he stopped scanning the crowded room to focus his attention on this one young lady.  She seemed very familiar to him, but he couldn't place why.

            I wonder why such a beautiful young lady like her appears so alone at a table as filled as the one at which she sits… and why does she seem so familiar to me?  Should I get up and go ask her why she seems so alone at a table as filled as is the one she sits at, or would that be rude of me? Perhaps I should just go and introduce myself and inquire her name.  Maybe then I can find out why she seems so familiar to me.  Gathering his resolve, he stood, adjusting the sword at his waist to set it more comfortably upon his hips, and started towards the far side of the room and the young lady.

            As he neared the table, she looked up at him, locking beautiful emerald eyes with his sky blues, and his resolve faltered; he quickly ducked out the room, exiting through a side door onto a balcony and out into the cool evening air of the early April evening.   He walked to the railing of the balcony where placed his hands upon it and squeezed firmly, lowering his head in disgust at himself.

            How can you be so fearless and courageous on the battle­field, unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds and almost certain death, but be so nervous and scared when a beautiful lady is involved? he chided himself.  I guess it all stems from your younger days, eh?  Girls were never much interested in you unless you could get them to a goal they couldn't otherwise reach, and the only one that ever truly loved you for who you were you've probably lost for good thanks to your father and that war.  He raised his head, releasing his grip on the railing and replacing his hands with his elbows before resting his chin on his clasped hands to look out over the city proper towards the gates.

            He heard light footsteps behind him and fought the urge to turn and put hand to sword, knowing there would be no danger here, and he heard a beautiful female voice ask, “Beautiful night, isn't it?  The stars shining so brightly above is breath taking.”

            He gazed up at the sky as she came up beside him and placed her own hands upon the railing as she leaned gently against it, continuing to look up at the stars.   “It is, actually,” he answered quietly.  “It's been many years since I've actually taken the time to admire the beauty of the sky on a cool April evening," he answered.

            "That's a shame, Sir Knight," she said.  “The stars are very beautiful, especially on a lovely night such as this.  You ought to get back into the habit of doing so.”

            He looked over at her, intending to thank her for reminding him of the beauty of such a night, and the memory of his meeting Rebekah nine years earlier came to his mind as the light from the night's full moon radiated off her face.  Rebekah? He thought to himself.   Can it really be her?  Can it really be my darling Rebekah I've considered lost to me all these years?

            She turned to him and asked, “What?” as Rebekah had that night, strengthening his idea of her really being his lost darling Rebekah.

            “Nothing,” he answered, straightening back up and repositioning himself so as to lean his back against the railing to talk further with her in the hopes of determining whether it really was his darling Rebekah.

            She caught sight of the silver chain around his neck and the ring upon it as it glistened in the moonlight with his movement, commenting, “That's a beauti­ful ring you have there on your necklace.  I gave a ring like that to a young man once upon a time.”  Her tone was reminiscent and sad at once, and he noticed the hint of tears coming to her beautiful, emerald eyes as she continued, “Chris was his name.  I was greatly in love with him –as was he with me—and still am despite the fact that he's probably either long since dead or lost to me.  He never returned for me when his training as a knight was over because war broke out and he was duty bound and honor bound to take part.  Then my father died during the war, and my mother remarried causing us to have to move.  He either died in that war, or he returned home to find me gone.  I miss him dearly, especially on nights like this.  The stars remind me of him, and so long as they glitter so beautiful on nights like this I will hope that one day he will find me.” 

            He smiled ever so slightly, holding back the urge to cry himself and the even stronger urge to gently take her into his arms and tell her that he had found her after all these years, afraid to do so in fear of hurting her.  She believed him possibly dead all this while, and he could not imagine what her reaction would be if he tried to tell her at this moment in time.  Instead he commented gently, “You never know, my Lady.  You two just might indeed find each other again at the most unexpected of times and at the most unexpected of places and not even know it at first.”   Gods, I wish I could just tell you it's me, my darling Rebekah, but I'm so afraid of hurting you as my leaving did nearly nine years ago.  You've believed me possibly dead all this time.  If I were to tell you it's me right here talking to you, would you believe me? I couldn't possibly hurt you and me like that.  I don't quite know how to tell you just yet.  When I figure out how, I'll tell you, and maybe we can be as happy as once we were.   

She smiled, turning back to him.  “I hope you’re right, Sir Knight.  Nothing would make me happier.”  She raised a hand to her face, gently brushing aside a stray tear before commenting, “Oh, how rude of me.  I haven’t even introduced myself.”  But before she could continue a voice came from inside.  “Sorry, Sir Knight, but I must go.  It was nice speaking with you.”

            “It was my honor, my lady,” he replied as she walked back into the hall.  My darling Rebekah, he corrected in his mind.  He followed her in shortly, grabbing his cloak before leaving the celebration.  He made his way back to the inn he was staying at during his stay in the Imperial City for the tournament being held for the next four days.  He thought of Rebekah the entire way back and stayed up a good bit of the night thinking about her; probably not the greatest of ideas seeing as how he was to take part in the next day's event, but insomnia had been both his curse and his blessing for five years now.  He got up the next morning just a bit behind schedule –not a great deal though he did berate himself for waking up late, prepared himself for the tournament, and started towards the tournament grounds that had been built outside the Imperial Palace.

            Arriving in the knights' waiting area where all the tents of those knights who were to take part in the tournament and could not or did not want to find rooms at an inn or had no other means of lodging in the city were set up and where the lances, provided by the Emperor, the knights were to use in the tourna­ment's events were resting in holders or piles upon the ground, he found himself just a bit late, hearing as he was riding up the names of the first two jousters of this day's event and then the two crashing together in the middle of the field as he passed through the tent filled area.  He was called to take his part in the jousting competition shortly there after when the game's master announced the names for the fifth match.

            As he rode across the tournament field to take his position on the far side, the left from the perspective of the Imperial dais, his usual and accustomed position, he searched for the Lady Rebekah, finding her upon the Imperial dais seated behind and to the right of the Emperor and his wife among a number of barons and other nobility of the Empire who had come to attend the event.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew Rebekah to be the most beautiful Lady present at the tournament –hell, in the entire Empire as far as he was concerned—and he knew that he must win every event in the tournament to make it known to those gathered to watch the tournament because it was custom for the Emperor to have as reward for the knight who won the day’s event a pouch of gold and a crown of gold inlaid with many precious jewels that he was to place upon the head of the Lady present he believed to be the most beautiful present.  Perhaps it would be hard, but it would be nothing new to him to actually succeed in winning all the events in a tournament he had attended –he had done so in a number of tournaments in the three years since the end of the war as he traveled the Empire in search of Rebekah; and he knew he had to succeed this time because only in so doing could he tell her who he was, that he was not dead and that he had been searching for her during the three years since the end of the war that had kept him from returning to her after his training to become a knight.

As Sir Chris rode pass the dais, he bowed gracefully in his saddle to those seated upon it, especially the Lady Rebekah, before taking his position to await his lance and his opponent to do likewise.  A lance was brought out to him no sooner than he had taken his position on the left of the tournament field and turned to face the right where his opponent was currently taking his position and accepting his lance as well.  When both knights had taken their position and received their lances, the game’s master called out, “Knights, are you ready?”  Sir Chris raised his shield above his head as he couched his lance, signaling that he was in the customary tournament salute to his opponent, and after his opponent had done likewise, the game’s master had the trumpet sounded.  As the trumpet blasted its solitary note, the two knights spurred their horses and charged.

            Crash!

            The sound of wood against steel rang out as the two knights collided with the splintering of wood as both knights’ lances shattered against the other’s shield, with Chris’s opponent fell from his saddle.  “The Knight of the Black Dragon has won this match,” the game’s master called while Sir Chris turned his horse around, dismounted, and helped his opponent to his feet.  After regaining his own saddle, Sir Chris rode back towards the waiting area, again bowing to those seated on the Imperial dais as he went pass, keeping his eyes upon the Lady Rebekah as long as he could, unnoticed behind the visor of his helmet, to await his next match.

            Sir Chris went undefeated through thirteen matches, breezing through his competition as if the entire event was a joke to him, taking no more than two goes with any single opponent in those thirteen matches, and found himself pitted against another knight of great renown around the Empire:  a knight given the nickname the Lion-hearted.  As had been his habit since his very first jousting match in his very first tournament three years ago after the end of the war, Chris bowed to those seated on the dais as he rode pass to his position on the far side of the field to await his lance and his opponent.  “Knights, are you ready?” the game’s master called, as he had called through every other match through the day’s event, after both knights had taken their positions and received their lances.  In response both Chris and his opponent raised their shields in salute to one another as they both couched their lances, and the game’s master had the trumpet sounded.  With that short, solitary blast on the trumpet, both knights spurred their horses into motion, charging forward to meet his opponent amid the thunderous sound of both horse’s hooves.

            The sound of their collision was near deafening, with both lances shattering against shields in a spray of splinters, but neither knight fell from his horse, displaying great skill and determination to stay in their saddles.  Seven more times the two knights attempted to unhorse each other, and seven more times did they shatter their lances upon each other’s shields before a victor in this match was found; and that victor, found on that eight attempt, was the Knight of the Black Dragon.

            After dismounting, helping his opponent to his feet, and congratulating him on a match well done, Sir Chris, still on foot, led his horse to the Imperial dais to receive his prize, his days winning and the crown he was going to place upon the Lady Rebekah’s head, designating her the most beautiful lady present at the tournament.  “You have done very well today, Sir Knight,” the Emperor congratulated him after Chris had knelt to pay his respect to the Emperor and subsequently been asked to rise.  “Knight of the Black Dragon, you have won yourself much respect and honor around the Empire since the war three years ago, but it comes to my attention that no one knows who you are.  Pray, tell us your name, so that we may honor the man rather than the coat of arms.”

            “Your Eminence,” Sir Chris responded, “I must apologize, but I feel that today is not the day I should make my identity known.  However, I will be willing to do so on the fourth day of the tournament, after the final event, because there is one person here who does know my true identity though at this time she would not know it since my coat of arms has changed since she knew me and my helmet changes the sound of my voice.”  He bowed to the Emperor before continuing, “I would prefer to stay nameless as I am till then, if your Eminence would be so gracious as to allow me.”

            The Emperor nodded, “As you wish it, Sir Knight.  For the spectacular display of skill and prowess you have given us this day, the least we can give in return is this simple wish.  You may stay nameless till the end of the event on the fourth day of the competition.”  An Imperial servant of some sort came up to the Emperor, bearing a velvet pillow upon which rested the golden crown of jewels that was the rest of Chris’s winnings for the day.  The Emperor gently took the crown from the pillow and turned to Chris, continuing, “Now, Sir Knight, take this crown of precious gems and place it upon the head of the Lady present you believe to be the most beautiful in attendance.”  He handed the crown to Chris who took it from him with a bow before immediately walking the few feet over to the Lady Rebekah and kneeling with the crown resting on his outstretched left hand while his right hand rested over his heart.

            “My Lady,” he said from his knees, “please accept from this humble knight whom since he first laid eyes upon you at the begin­ning of this tournament knew he would be fighting for your beauty this beautiful crown the beauty of which is as nothing compared to your own.”

            “You flatter, Sir Knight,” she answered, blushing as he stood and placed the crown upon her head without her actually having accepted it from him.   “There are many ladies present this day who are more beautiful than I.”

            “I beg to differ, my Lady,” he answered, very tempted to say ‘my darling Rebekah’ as he had called her so many years ago.  “I see none here more beautiful than you and believe I would be hard pressed to find one more beautiful than you if I were to search the whole of the Empire.”

He bowed to her, turned, and went to mount his horse as the Emperor asked him, “Very sure of your victory today, Sir Knight?  You must have been to have already known you'd be fighting for the Lady Rebekah’s beauty.”

            “Well, your Eminence, wouldn't you have been if you fought for a lady as beautiful as she,” he answered instantly, the crimson tint of her cheeks growing an even brighter shade of red.  He said no more, as he climbed into his saddle from where he bowed gracefully to the Lady Rebekah and the Emperor in turn before departing to the inn where he would rest for the next day’s event.

            The next morning Sir Chris arrived at the tournament grounds early for the sword fighting competition, where he practiced his forms while he waited for his name to be called, which happened for the fifth match again that day.  Walking to the center of the tournament field where there had been a small area roped off in which the sword fighting matches would take place, he looked over to the Imperial dais and found Rebekah seated as she was the previous day, proudly wearing the crown he’d placed upon her head the previous day.  Smiling behind the visor of his helmet, he stopped just before entering the match area, turned to the dais and bowed to the Lady Rebekah and the Emperor in turn.  Once his opponent had taken his place, Sir Chris drew his sword, raising the hilt to his forehead and bowing to his opponent respectfully, and after his opponent had done likewise, the game’s master had the horn sounded, which sent his opponent into the offensive immediately.  His opponent’s style was more suited for the battlefield where taking down an opponent as quickly and efficiently as possible was a must so that one could move on to the next.  His strokes were vicious and powerful, coming from overhead as often as not, but as Chris was trained to fight in any situation that would involve the use of a blade, he was unaffected by the ferocity of his opponent’s offense.  Taking a completely defensive style, he waited for his opponent to wear himself down before he took the offensive, disarming his opponent in short order and placing the tip of his blade under his opponent’s chin.  “Do you surrender, friend?” he asked.

            “I am at your mercy,” his opponent answered.

            “The Knight of the Black Dragon has won this match,” the game’s master shouted.  Chris sheathed his sword, turned to the dais and bowed to the Lady Rebekah and the Emperor in turn before walking back to the waiting area to wait for his next match.  His skill and prowess were unmatched as he battled his way through the competition, defeating his foes with a mix of well-practiced defense and offense he had learned during his training under his uncle, one of the best knights-errant in the history of the Empire and the Paladin, the Emperor’s chosen champion himself.  The final match of the competition pitted him against another knight who had earned himself a reputation on par with Chris:  the White Knight Sir Daniel.

            After giving the two knights a short rest before the final match, Sir Chris made his way to the competition area to face Sir Daniel, stopping and bowing to the Lady Rebekah as he had done prior to every match he had fought this day before entering the competition area and taking his place to await his opponent.  Sir Daniel joined him shortly afterwards, bowing to the dais as well before entering the competition area and taking his place across from Chris.  They stood facing each other in silence for long moments before the game’s master called, “Knights, are you ready?” and in unison Sir Chris and Sir Daniel drew their swords, raised their hilts to their foreheads, and bowed to one another in honored salute.  The game’s master signaled for the horn to start the match, and before that single horn blast had even faded, the sound of steel against steel rang out as the knights’ swords clashed together.

            Over thirty minutes the two knights spent locked in combat, their skills seemingly evenly matched as they went back and forth attacking and defending, but in the end the combination of sword styles Chris had been taught prevailed when he finally disarmed his foe, causing Sir Daniel to surrender.  The Emperor greeted him congenially when he walked to the dais, knelt to pay his respect and subsequently rose as he was bidden.  “I believe the stories of your skill do not give you the just you deserve, Sir Knight.  The only swordsman I knew to be better than Sir Daniel there was my own Paladin, and you seemed to defeat him with very little effort.”

He smiled slightly behind his visor, finding it ironic that the Paladin, seated directly behind the Emperor, had not mentioned the fact that Chris had been using some of his own techniques.  “You are to kind, your Eminence,” he replied, bowing slightly.  “I am normally not such a swordsman, but the Lady Rebekah’s beauty has inspired me so greatly that I have surpassed my normal skill in order to prove that she is indeed the most beautiful Lady present at this tournament.”  A light crimson tint touched Rebekah’s cheeks at his words as he bowed to her, but she said nothing, only able to smile at the kindness of this knight she was unaware she knew.

“Shall you make it three for three tomorrow?” the Emperor asked him as he handed Chris' winnings for the day to him.

“I shall do only my best to prove the Lady Rebekah the most beautiful present at this tournament.”  After bowing to the Emperor and the Lady Rebekah again, he turned and walked away.

To make an unnecessarily long story short and end the suspense of continuing the draw things out, Sir Chris was victorious the next two days, easily winning both the singles combat that allowed any choice of weapon and the battle royal where all the knights gathered fought in one large battle, thus succeeding at winning all four events and making the Lady Rebekah the undisputed most beautiful Lady attending the tournament.  After his tremendous victory in the battle royal during the fourth day of the competition, he was greeted most anxiously by those seated on the Imperial dais, not more so than the Lady Rebekah who wished to know the identity of the knight who had fought for her and been so kind to her through the entire competition.  “A most spectacular victory to end a most spectacular tournament, Sir Knight.  Your skill is undisputed this day, and with this victory you have made the Lady Rebekah the undisputed beauty of this tournament. Will you now reveal yourself and make known your identity as you said you would on the first day of the tournament?”

Nodding, he said, “As I mentioned on the first day of this tournament, there is one present who does know me by name although she didn't and still might not know it, and she is the Lady for whose beauty I've been fighting for, our Lady Rebekah.  We knew each other a long...”

“Sir Knight,” she interrupted him.  “How can it be that I know you by name?  I'm as baffled by your identity as is the Em­peror and all those gathered here.”

“Well,” he replied softly, taking off his helmet and smiling as he stared di­rectly into her eyes, “if I'd been allowed to finish I'd have an­swered that question.”  She was completely shocked to be gazing upon the face of the young knight she had talked to four nights earlier at the dinner that had been held to start off the tournament.  Removing from behind his armor and resting it upon his breastplate the silver ring she had given him almost nine years before and which he wore around his neck to remember her now that it was too small for his finger, he continued, “We knew each other long ago, when I was still just the son of a guard captain, my darling Rebekah.”  Her eyes grew big when he placed the ring upon his breastplate, and her face light up when he called her ‘my darling Rebekah’; but he read in her eyes disbelief, as he knew that she believed him dead or lost to her all this while. He turned to the Emperor continuing, “I am Sir Chris, Defender of the Holy Empire, Knight of the Dragon Legions, nicknamed the Black Dragon for my prowess on the field of battle during the war.”

“Chris?” she asked, the tone in her voice mirroring the disbelief he saw in her eyes.

He turned back to Rebekah, “It is, my darling Rebekah.  I promised you we'd be together again when I left nearly nine years ago to begin my training as a knight, and I always keep my promises.”  He smiled slightly.  “It tore me apart not to be able to tell you four nights ago when we spoke at the banquet, but I was afraid that if I told you then, it would hurt you because you had said you believed me dead.  I wanted to tell you so desperately, but I didn’t want to put us both through that pain if you had fled from me believing that I was lying.  Can you forgive me for making you wait four days you did not have to?” he asked, dropping to one knee before her and bowing his head.

“Of course,” she replied, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.  She all but jumped up from her seat and knelt with him, throwing her arms around him.  His arms came up and wrapped around her as she continued, “You were worth waiting for then, and my belief in that has not changed.  I could not hold that against you.”  They were married a few days later in a grand celebration and lived happily ever after.