The Bishop’s Heir Read Online Free PDF Page A

them, the inexperienced among Kelson’s company might find themselves at the disadvantage despite their numbers and superior armor.
    Still, Kelson supposed he could let his untried cousin at least think he was performing an important function, while still keeping him relatively safe and under watchful eyes. As he adjusted the angle of his helm and secured the chin strap, he cast a stern glance at the impatient Conall, then relented and nodded to Traherne. Immediately, Conall was kneeing his charger between the two of them and reaching out for the royal standard, tight-jawed but triumphant as his gloved hand locked around the polished staff.
    â€œNo heroics, now,” Kelson warned.
    â€œDon’t worry.”
    The crimson of the banner’s field seemed almost subdued against the deep green of the surrounding forest, but the golden Haldane lion shimmered like a living thing as Conall gave the silk a shake and set the butt of the staff in his stirrup rest. The prince’s grin was infectious, and Ewan and Traherne as well as Kelson found themselves smiling in response as muffled hoofbeats approached. Kelson cast about for hidden dangers as a returning scout burst through the trees and reined his horse to a sliding halt, but he sensed nothing other than the body of men ahead.
    â€œLiveried men-at-arms, Sire—lightly mounted, against what appears to be a band of brigands,” the man reported. “Maybe twenty on a side, but none of them are particularly well armored.”
    â€œWhose livery?” Kelson demanded.
    â€œTrurill, Sire. Two swords in saltire over a third in pale, all on a blue field.”
    Kelson glanced at Ewan, who nodded confirmation.
    â€œThose’ll be Brice’s lads, right enough. Do we have maneuvering room, son?”
    â€œAt least as good as here, Your Grace. Part of the area is an open glade. Robard has stayed to watch they don’t shift while we’re planning.”
    â€œWell done.” Kelson drew his sword and glanced back at his waiting men. “Very well, gentlemen, I think it’s time to show ourselves. If we can manage without bloodshed, so much the better. Traherne, I want you on Conall’s other side. Jodrell, you ride on my right. Ewan, deploy the men.”
    With an economy of silent hand signals, Ewan gave the necessary orders. As ever, Kelson was impressed with the efficiency and polish which came with more than thirty years’ experience as a field commander. The jingle of harness and the wet, sucking sound of the horses’ hooves on the moss-covered forest floor temporarily covered the battle sounds as the knights peeled off to either side and fanned out in perfect parade ground formation, Ewan and one of the senior knights each taking a wing. Kelson urged his bay forward at the trot, sword at the ready, he and his escort marking the center of a deepening crescent intended to engulf attackers and defenders alike. Ahead, through the trees, he began to see the signs of battle.
    â€œYield, in the king’s name!” he heard Ewan cry, as the royal knights burst upon the skirmish. “Hold, in the name of Kelson of Gwynedd!”

C HAPTER T WO
    They all hold swords, being expert in war: every man hath his sword upon his thigh .
    â€”Song of Solomon 3:8
    Kelson’s first impression, as he and his warband burst into the clearing, was one of brawl rather than battle. Though most of the Trurill men were armed with swords or the short horse-spears favored by bordermen, their opponents seemed limited to cudgels, quarterstaffs, and the occasional dirk. Nor did the Trurill men appear inclined to overpress their advantage. Even as the Haldane ring tightened, Kelson saw a Trurill retainer grab his opponent’s plaid and yank him off his pony, cracking him across the back of the head with the pommel of his sword when he just as easily could have killed him. Several of both sides lay unmoving or groaning feebly on the ground, but