As the man held Thor in the air, after several seconds, slowly his expression softened, and to Thor’s surprise, it morphed into a smile.
“I like you,” the man growled, in a deep, ancient voice. “I wish to have you here.”
He leaned back, and threw Thor and he went flying through the air, landing hard in the dirt, rolling several times, winded again. He lay there, breathing hard, and looked up at the warrior.
The man laughed, then turned his back, and began to walk away.
“Welcome to the Isle of Mist,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Erec woke at dawn in the unfamiliar bed and sat upright, trying to get his bearings. He remembered: he was in the tavern. Alistair.
He jumped up and dressed himself within moments, preparing. He had been up most of the night, barely sleeping, the blood pumping in his veins with thoughts of Alistair. He could not get her face from his mind, and he could barely stand the thought that she was sleeping just down the hall, under the same roof. He also could not rest knowing she had not yet agreed to accept his proposal.
As he put on his chainmail, as he watched the first light breaking through the crooked window, he knew that today was the day. Today was the day his new life would begin, the first day of one hundred days of tournaments to win his bride. Now he had a reason to win. If she would have him, he would fight for her.
As Erec watched the sun slowly light up the world, the trees in silhouette, as he heard the first birds sing, he was struck with a feeling, one he could not shake: if she said yes, today was the day that would change his life. His entire life, when he had met women, he had never had such a feeling as when he had met Alistair. When he had found her again, in the tavern, he had been expecting not to feel that same feeling again. He had been surprised to realize that he felt it still-and even stronger. It was not a fluke. It was a feeling of instant loyalty to her. A feeling that he could be by no one else’s side. He did not know if she felt it, too. And he could not tell if that was because she was overwhelmed, or because she was simply not interested. He had to know. He could not rest until he did.
Erec finished dressing, gathered his weapons, and hurried from the room, his spurs jingling as his footsteps echoed down the creaky wooden hall. He hurried down the steps, entered the tavern, empty save for him, all the others still sleeping. He sat at one of the empty tables, waiting. Hoping. Was she awake? He wondered. Would she even care?
Moments later, the kitchen door opened and the innkeeper stuck out his head, looked disapprovingly at Erec, then closed the door quickly. There followed a yelling, a clattering of pots behind the closed door, and moments later, the door opened, and she appeared.
The sight of her took his breath away. She wore the same clothes from the night before, her hair was disheveled, and he could see she had been hastily awakened. She also looked tired, as if she had not slept much. Nonetheless, she looked as beautiful to him as ever. Her large blue eyes glowed in the morning light, emanating a power unlike any he had encountered.
Alistair hurried to his table, holding a mug of ale, her head lowered in humility, and set it down before him, still not meeting his eyes. He wanted more than anything to look into those eyes, to know how she felt about him. He was about to speak to her, when suddenly the innkeeper appeared behind her, hurrying up to her. Alistair became nervous, and she bumped the table, and a little bit of ale spilled out onto the floor.
“Look what you’ve done!” the innkeeper screamed at her. “Filthy, stupid girl! Mop it up!”
Erec reddened at his harsh words, his rage rising.
Alistair spun, nervous, and as she did, by accident she swiped the glass, which went sliding across the table and landed on the floor with a crash. The glass shattered, and the liquid went everywhere.
“Stupid wench!” the innkeeper screamed. He pulled back his large open palm, and brought it down for her face.
But Erec was faster than he. Erec drew on his soldier’s reflexes and leapt up from the bench and caught the innkeeper’s hand in mid-swing. He caught his wrist firmly, right before he hit Alistair, and held it in place.
The man glowered down at him, but Erec was stronger, and with one hand he bent his wrist back, turning it until the innkeeper dropped to his knees.
“If you ever try to lay a hand on her again,” Erec said, as he extracted a dagger and held it at the base of the innkeeper’s throat, “I swear to God I will kill you.”
The innkeeper swallowed, his eyes open wide with fear.
“My lord, please don’t hurt him,” Alistair said softly.
Erec was mollified by the sound of her voice, and he softened just a little, especially as the innkeeper gulped, and sweat broke out on his forehead.
“I won’t touch her,” the innkeeper said, his voice raspy from the tip of the blade. “I promise.”
Erec let him go, and the innkeeper dropped his arm and rubbed his wrist, breathing hard.
“Will you join me?” he asked Alistair, gesturing at the seat opposite him at the table.
“She has to work!” the innkeeper yelled back, as he got to his feet.
“If I win the tournaments, and if she agrees, then she will be my bride,” Erec said to the innkeeper. “She will never have to work again.”
“She might be your bride,” the innkeeper snapped, “but just because she is married, that doesn’t absolve her of me. She’s an indentured servant to me. She has four more years on her contract.”
Erec looked at Alistair, and she looked at him and nodded, her eyes wet.
“It is true, my lord. You see, I am not such a good bride for you. I am indentured here. I must repay my debt before I am free to go.”
Erec turned and scowled at this innkeeper. He hated him with a loathing he did not think possible.
“And how much is her contract worth?” Erec asked.
“That’s no business of yours-”
“Answer me!” Erec growled, putting one hand on his dagger.
The innkeeper must have detected Erec’s seriousness, because he swallowed and looked back.
“The typical servant is paid room and board and 100 pence for a seven year contract,” he said.
“If I win the jousting, and if she agrees to be my bride, I will buy her contract from you. In fact, I will pay you triple.”
Erec took a sack of gold coins from his waist, and dropped it on the table. It landed with a clang.
“300 pence of the king’s gold,” Erec announced.
The innkeeper looked down, wide-eyed. He licked his lips in greed, looking from Erec to Alistair. Then he grabbed the sack, weighed it in his palm, and opened it, examining the contents.
Finally, he stuffed the sack into his pocket. He shrugged.
“Take her then,” he said. “It is your money to lose. Only a fool would throw away so much gold for a servant.”
“Please, my Lord, don’t do this,” Alistair cried out to Erec. “It is too much money! I am not worth it!”
The innkeeper was about to go, but stopped and turned.
“And if you don’t win the competition? And if she doesn’t agree to be your bride?” he asked.
“As long as she is set free,” Erec said, “the gold is yours to keep.”
The innkeeper smiled, turned, and hurried from the room, slamming the kitchen door behind him.
Finally, it was just Erec and Alistair, alone in the room.
Erec Turned and looked at her.
“Do you wish to marry me?” he asked her, with more seriousness than he had ever mustered.
Alistair lowered her head in humility, and Erec’s heart pounded as he awaited her response. What if she said no?
“My lord,” she said. “I could think of no greater honor, no greater dream for any maiden in the kingdom than to be your wife. But I do not deserve this. I am but a common servant girl. You would sully your great name to be with me.”