Chapter Two: Such swordplay.

Authur turned and began to walk towards the direction he came from. He had had enough of sight looking and it was time move forward.He had not moved more than five steps when he heard it clearly. It was a very loud piercing scream, and it drew it attention, making him turn towards the direction he just left a few seconds again.

It came from the princess and at this point she gave a cry of protest, which brought Authur to look towards her direction. The beggars... he had thought as much! There was trouble afoot, with the princess objecting to their demand for a bed for the night.

"No, no and no!" she said, stepping back, and emptying the last of the crust on the table.

"You were this way last week, and your arm seemed well enough to be discharged....and your companions were fine also....and surely I swear by the Lord it was your left hand that was broken, and surely not your right one"

"And what are the poor discharged soldiers to do, then?" whined one of the beggars.

"Work!" said the princess ignoring their pleas and swinging one empty basket into the other.

"Give us alms, and we will go in peace" said the leader of the beggars, as he edged towards her round the table. His eyes were on the purse that swung from her girdle.

Authur cursed under his breath. To draw attention to himself in a bid in going to rescue her her would be a diaster....his description would surely be recognized.

"Food you have had in plenty," said the princess giving the basket to the middle aged woman. " No more can i give you, and no more will I do more than I already have"

"Isn't this wickedness, shelter there is for the women and children, but none for the poor wounded soliders?"

The child whom the princess was tending to had been ushered in with the mother and sibling, so was the man who had a terrible looking sore on his face, but now the gates were barred to the beggars because if the princess.

"My lady should I call for help" asked the middle aged servant as she cowered against the wall, frightened by the beggars threatening looks. " I told you we should have waited....."

"You can go in, I will join you in a few minutes" said the princess cutting the servant short.

But in this moment the leader of the beggars suddenly took advantage of the situation, he caught her free arm, and as she reached out for her dagger, the second man caught her free arm and twisted it up and away from her belt....

Authur sighed and quickly turned throwing back his cloak and drew his sword from where it was hanging behind his left shoulder. His long legs carried him easily over the ground to where the fight was taking place. The middle aged servant had ran inside the castle to get help. The rest of the people who had come to sought alms and food from the princess had fled, screaming, as they went.

Producing weapons from under their ragged clothes, the band of four beggars turned to deal with the newcomer.

"One against four," mocked the leader to Authur, "And I have her purse already"

It was a poor sort of fight. Authur sent the first man sprawling in the dust with a shrewd blow from his sword, as a dagger was raised to strike him. The second beggar had a cudgel, and as he slashed at Authur, he found himself facing an incredibly long sword, probably the longest he had seen in his life, snaking over the top of his hand to prick at his throat. The man howled, tripping over his feet in an effort to avoid the wicked looking sword. The third beggar attempted to come over from behind Authur, but Authur as if having eyes behind him quickly stepped to his right hand side, throwing his sword from his right hand to his left hand to meet the leader of the gang who himself had a wicked looking blade of his own also, which was sent flying at an incredibly fast speed from his hand. The leader howled and doubled over, clutching at his elbow.

The middle aged servant screamed. About six servants armed with an assortment of weapons mixed with some men at arms erupted from the small postern gates.

The beggars gathered themselves together and fled, leaving a cudgel, a crutch and a sword behind to mark their passing.

It was over. The princess licked a trifle of blood from behind her hand. Her eyes were wide, seemingly more interested than afraid.

She smiled at Authur, revealing a set of white good teeth.

"Thank you sir. Such swordplay!" Her voice was as warm now as it had been before.

" I doubt if my intervention was really necessary" replied Authur, sheathing his sword.

"It was my stupidity that brought all these," she said standing upright and with care. " I should have waited for Harry, or call for help earlier. But no one had ever offered me violence before...." She was perhaps shaken by her encounter with the beggars, than she really cared to acknowledge.

"And you knew I would have intervened, if necessary right?" said Authur so shocked at himself for saying such words, even more shocked for thinking about them.

She did not evade his question.

"Yes, I knew you would come to my rescue if I needed help" she said with so much simplicity.

The middle aged servant was urging her to return within the walls of the castle. The men at arms were returning with two of the beggars whom they had chased earlier on. One of them handed over to the princess her purse.

"My father will very much wish to thank you, come in with me Mr.....?"

She waited for his reply. He drew back. He could not possibly announce himself as prince Authur of Naviel. He could not embarrass the king of Jordan, or risk the sheriff's arrival while he was being entertained by the royal family of Jordan.

"I am traveling in haste, I will seek a bed at any inn inside the town" came Authur's reply.

The princess's face flamed up with hurt pride.

"Will you not allow me to repay you...."

"Am sorry my lady. A bed for the night would be welcomed, and something to eat and drink from the buttery. But I wish not to trouble your father"

Still her eyes showed that his refusal had hurt her.

He bent his head, the better to resist her silent pleading. She did not know what she was asking for....

Luckily for him the middle aged servant intervened.

"My princess, it would be wise not to disturb your father with this news..... surely he will blame me for allowing you to come out unattended. Besides, no harm was done. Your purse has been recovered, and of this poor man.... doubtless he knows his place, and would be overwhelmed by being taken into the hall when the royal family is already seated....."

" I doubt so..." said the princess interrupting her softly.

"No it's not that" said Authur to himself. How quick was this woman in understanding. In another minute she would surely guess he was a fugitive.

"Will you accept a bed in the infirmary?" she asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts.

"Will you share the meal provided for the men and women who stay there?" she asked again.

He had no words to express his gratitude. She held out her hand, and he took it, and kissed it. It was broad in the palm, and capable. It was not the soft hand of a woman befitting of the tittle Queen of beauty, yet it pleased Authur.

"Your name sir" she asked again.

He thought quickly. To give his own name would be suicidal.

"William" he said.

"William, what a nice name. It suits you. I will call you William the brave, because your sword was capable enough to have split all those four rascals at once!"

He smiled but made no comment.

The three of them then made their way into the castle.