Chapter 40: Chapter 40

Synopsis

Armin wouldn't be the Black Knight's son if he didn't have the same stubborn head as Arin. Until one day two of the king's knights come and give Armin a sealed letter. And he will still regret having followed his king to Spain in particular... Because apart from a great humiliation, the red knight also takes a woman back to England...

The Red Knight is the third book in the series.

1. The Black Knight

2. The White Knight

3. The Red Knight

All Rights Reserved

Prologue

The spring rain drummed against the glass in the windows of the Palace of Westminster. The new King Richard sits in his circle of advisers and thoughtfully strokes his smooth chin.

"What do you think, Sire?"

The grandson of the glorious king Edward III, son of the black prince, stands up in a hurry. Too easy, it echoes in his head. That would be too easy, Richard.

He is standing in front of the window on which the rain is pouring down incessantly. Not even the moon can be seen.

"Does my uncle know about this?"

One of his uncle's knights, though standing behind Richard, nodded. "Yes, Sire. John of Gaunt is the same."

The boy, not even twenty years old, smiles ghostly. In the dim light of the candles, it seemed almost ominous. He's not a great friend of his uncle.

"Indeed? When he would be entitled to the Spanish crown? Since he has such a lovely Spanish wife? It just doesn't matter to him, you say?"

Richard didn't have to turn to know the knight squared his shoulder. That's what this man always did when someone questioned the Duke of Lancaster.

"He lets you know that you are a king by the grace of God and that you can therefore make this decision on your own without asking your uncle's permission first. He says he has great faith in you."

With an effort, Richard suppressed an ironic snort. He knew that in truth his uncle would see no danger in this alliance and that he didn't care. Apparently to his guardian the matter was not of very great value to England and therefore irrelevant.

It suited the young King of England just fine. He finally turned around and looked at his cousin, Henry Bolingbroke, and smiled sardonically.

"Your father probably has more faith in Us than you, cousin. That doesn't really surprise us, though."

Henry was used to his cousin cracking jokes at his expense. Also that he never missed an opportunity to test or humiliate Henry's patience. Therefore such tips against his loyalty to the king no longer agitated him.

"I have faith, Sire. But I think this alliance would be too unimportant for the war we are waging. We have to remember that we are not interested in Spain but in France."

Richard smiled. He immediately wanted to jump at this pretty boy's throat. "I'm the king, Henry. Do you want to explain to us what is in our interest?"

"Sire, the Crown is broke..."

"Which means all the more that this union will be a boon to England. I think the dowry would be too great a loss."

Richard felt the pairs of eyes in the room focus on him and agree that he was right. Of course, the king thought. Flick the gold and the people will be docile. He walked around the almost sacred round table and stopped by his cousin to put his hands on his shoulders.

"Our little naive, Henry. In times like these we have to think of England." He said well knowing that John kept telling his son exactly that. "That's why it's important to get money for this war. After all, our grandfather and fathers were involved in it and ambitious about it, aren't you?"

Henry tried to exercise humility. "Sire, it's two young and innocent people you're making unhappy. Both have nothing to do with this matter and should therefore not be implicated. Why don't you take one of the thousand candidates instead of just this boy?"

Richard thought very well what to do with choosing this boy. And he didn't intend to justify himself. He hypocritically put a hand on his cousin's smooth cheek and hypocritically patted it.

"You wouldn't understand that anyway, cousin. We thought something about it and believe me," He paused a little to make sure Henry was listening carefully and brought out the final punch. "Your father would be proud of me if he cared a little more."

Because that's how he got two birds with one stone. Tame those god damn Campbells and bring them under the king.

And to punish this cursed black knight, who had been naughty on his grandfather for so long, by having Richard impose his will on Arin. The Black Knight.

Just a trick.

Henry saw the ominous twinkle in his older relative's actually pretty eyes and shuddered. There was something in Richard's intentions that had nothing to do with royalty. But could satisfy that certain crazy desire to humiliate people...

God, thought boy Bolingbroke, save the poor fellow from himself and from the King of England...

Chapter 1

Armin stood at the railing of thePhilippaand ran his hands through his black hair for the thousandth time. The constant jerking and rocking at sea made him weary and his stomach turned slowly but surely.

A good two weeks ago, two of the king's knights showed up at father's farm and handed Armin a letter with the royal seal. King Richard kindly invited him, an inexperienced firebrand, to follow him to Spain and play an important part in his negotiations.

His father Arin strongly opposed this and advised Armin to hide with his uncle Avan and pretend he never got the letter.

But Armin was curious and didn't think about throwing his first experience as a knight to the wind.

So he stood on the royal ship, had not yet seen the king himself and sailed into the unknown. But Syman had taught him enough important maneuvers as a squire to make Armin feel safe with his father's new sword.

"Land in sight!" roared a guy of Armin's age, shimmying himself down the mast and jumping onto the ground next to him. He grinned mischievously.

Armin returned the grin. "It has nothing to do with the sea, man. It's hard to get along with the look of you."

The sailor was taken aback for a moment, then he roared with laughter and hit Armin on the shoulder. "The first knight who understands jokes!" He eyed the scabbard on Armin's hip. It was made of plaited leather with a red ribbon embedded in it. And the pommel of the sword shimmered reddish in the sun. "What a piece of jewellery."

Of course, Armin thought proudly. Hands off, lout.

Arin had given it to him and thus given his blessing. And Armin felt mighty strong with his twenty years and his father's self-forged sword.

Less than an hour later thePhilippawas in the port of a Spanish city and Armin could finally feel solid ground under his feet again.

It wasn't very different from England. There was a lot going on at the harbor and people were shouting prices and offers of fish and sea goods in a foreign language. However, the salty smell in the air was the same as at home in the port.

But before Armin could take a closer look, his small group moved on and forced him to come with them. Only in the evening did they arrive at a chic barony before which the flag of young King Richards was hoisted. Right next to that of the Spanish king.

Armin suspiciously followed the pages into his huge room and immediately drank two cups of wine. Riding was good for him after being at Murder for so long, but it was exhausting nonetheless.

"Sir Campbell, the king wishes to see you for breakfast tomorrow," reported the little page, perhaps as old as his little brother Jacob. Ten years.

"Good thank you."

"Do you need anything else, sir?"

"It's okay, I think I'll start with my meal first."

The brown-haired smiled, made a servant and left.

Armin's room was spacious. A glass window faced a wide bed with heavy embroidered curtains. A table with all sorts of delicacies stood a few paces away, with some upholstered chairs.

Armin made a face and allowed himself to be impressed. No one seemed to want to show off. So he could enjoy it without loathing himself.

Exhausted, he sat down in the armchairs, stretched out his legs and speared a piece of eel with his dagger.

Yes... One could easily live like that.

Puzzled, I let the leather ball sink a little in my lap. "The English king is here? What is he doing here?"

The brown-haired page, Rico, shrugged and looked at his ball feverishly. Please give him back!"

His hands went up as I lifted the ball to hold it. "Stop stop..."

"I'll never play indoors again, I promise!"

"I can only advise you. If you smash father's window, you probably won't forget the consequences for a long time. But I don't have to tellyouthat, hu?"

Den Rico was the biggest louse in my father's household and always got into trouble somehow.

Rico grinned. "Please give me the ball!"

"First I want to know something."

He dropped his hands impatiently and stamped both feet impatiently. "Man!"

"Who were the knights you served earlier?"

"English people."

"And further?"

"What do I know!" Again he stomped impatiently. "Please give it back. It belongs to my employer. If I lose it then..."

"Are you allowed to borrow it?"

Rico pulled his lower lip between his teeth "So no?"

"Of course not... actually I must have been in bed for a long time. So... please! If he comes and sees me here with the ball, I'll probably faint."

Grinning, I gave him the leather thing back. he was gone

A servant came up to me and bowed briefly. "If you allow me, I would now like to escort you to your room. We have many guests and your father wishes"

I knew exactly what he wanted. "That I'll hide before anyone sees me?"

The servant said nothing and kept his face straight.

But it was the truth. Dad always said he didn't need any more requests for my hand because he would only give it to someone of his choosing anyway. I would show him that.

Nevertheless, I allowed myself to be escorted to my room to twiddle my thumbs like stupid... Only until the musicians would appear in the courtyard...

Out of nowhere, rhythmic music filtered through the glass window opposite the bed. He heard all sorts of strange foreign instruments and loud foreign-language male voices singing and laughing.

Armin took a glass goblet with wine from the table and stood by the open window.

In the dim light, he made out a small band of musicians sitting in a semicircle on the thick cobblestones. When they brought the thumb and forefinger together, they jingled. People stood around and clapped their hands while in the middle of the small courtyard, in front of the musicians, a little whirlwind danced...

She had a figure like a goddess. Her steps quick and gentle, though they seemed so defiant and heated. Her dark hair danced around her shoulders, large red flowers were tucked behind one of her ears, and this dress...

It was different from the ones in England. The waist was tight, the chest airy and the sleeves hung down at the shoulders. The skirt swung with her every move...

What a beautiful woman that was... Her big green eyes seemed far away as she danced.

Armin was so enchanted that he almost forgot where he was.

"Do you like Spain, Sir Campbell?"

Armin almost fell the trophy out of the window. When he turned around, he saw a short, fat man. Black hair and bushy beard.

"I've hardly had a chance to take a closer look."

The man laughed and came to him at the window. "I see you're looking at your best, sir."

Armin blushed. You're not a virgin you moron! he scolded himself, pointing at the table. "Do you want wine?"

The man seemed to think of something. "You don't even know me, do you? I am the lord of this barony, lord."

He thought so.

"My name is Enrique. If I want wine, I'll call my servant. No no. I just want to let you know how tomorrow is going."

Armin said nothing and waited, which slightly confused Enrique. But he continued.

"Tomorrow at breakfast your King Richard will receive you. It may turn out exactly as he planned, rest assured. And then we will immediately initiate everything. You don't have to think about anything anymore."

"Wait, sir..."

But Enrique raised a hand defensively. "Don't ask me anything, I don't know the answer anyway."

Armin stood there as if he were an idiot! And he hated that.

"Sorry, sir. But King Richard hasn't revealed his plans to me. Would you be so kind as to tell me exactly what I could... consider?"

As if something had cracked at Enrique, he spun around and pointed at Armin. "I said I didn't have any answers!"

Then the fat man scurried away.