The Dragon and the Dark Knight

By Mary Jo Putney and M.J. Putney

A Romantic Fantasy *Novella* set in England, in the Days of Knights, Ladies, and Dragons

 

The Bar Sinister and a Damsel in Distress

Base-born Sir Kenrick of Rathbourne has earned his living as an itinerant tournament knight. His skill supports him and his squire, but his dream of a manor and wife and family seems impossibly distant. Then he hears of a wealthy baron in Cornwall who is looking for a champion to slay the dragon that is terrorizing his lands. The reward will be a manor by the sea. Kenrick believes dragons are only a legend—but the prize makes the story worth investigating.

But there really is a dragon--and a dozen knights have failed to vanquish it. And when he finds a luminous lady in distress, the real challenge is protecting her and her dragon…

 

The Dragon and the Dark Knight novella was originally published in the Dragon Lovers anthology.

 

"What a marvelous presentation of romantical dragons, showing off for the ladies, or man of their choice, happenstance or traditional. Very, very good collection for all hungry draconaphiles, aka dragonlovers. Well written, stylish and above all inventive."
—Anne McCaffrey

 

"In Mary Jo Putney's exquisitely crafted and deliciously witty [novella] The Dragon and the Dark Knight, freelance knight Kenrick of Rathbourne is hired to slay a dragon but changes his mind after meeting the mysterious Lady Ariane."
—Booklist

 

"Mary Jo Putney's [novella] starts out as a classic but develops a twist that startles and delights."
—M. D. Benoit

About the AuthorM.J. Putney is the pen name of New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USAToday bestselling author, Mary Jo Putney. Her novels are known for psychological depth and intensity and include historical and contemporary romance, fantasy, and young adult fantasy. Winner of numerous writing awards, including two RITAs, three Romantic Times Career Achievement awards, and the Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award from Romance Writers of America, she has had numerous books listed among Library Journal's and Booklist's top romances of the year.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pandamax Press
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393731962

Mary Jo Putney

Mary Jo Putney was born in upstate New York with a reading addiction, a condition for which there is no known cure. After earning degrees in English Literature and Industrial Design at Syracuse University, she became a ten-time finalist for the Romance Writers of America RITA, has published over forty books, and was the recipient of the 2013 RWA Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. She lives in Baltimore, Maryland.

Book preview

Chapter 1

England

In the days of knights, ladies, and dragons

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As a lad, Sir Kenrick of Rathbourne had thought that the life of a free lance knight would be a grand and glorious adventure. It wasn’t.

The last tournament of the English season had just ended in a sea of mud from the relentless rain. Even Kenrick’s tent was leaking as he sat wearily on a wooden stool so his squire, Giles, could take off his greaves. Every inch of his body ached, but at least he’d broken no bones.

He calculated his finances, wondering if the silver belt he’d won in the tournament would sell for enough to pay passage south for himself and his squire. Should we cross to France and try our fortunes, Giles? It would be warmer there.

The blond youth looked doubtful. Sunshine would be good, sire. He peeled off Kenrick’s drenched and dripping surcoat. But at this season, we might have to spend weeks in a Channel port, waiting for the weather to improve enough to sail across to France. By the time we reached a warm place, winter would be over.

Kenrick frowned, thinking of the weather and the difficulty of shipping horses across the Channel. Very likely you’re right. Wintering in England is more sensible. He raised his arms so his squire could lift the chain mail hauberk off over his head. A pity the country is so peaceful. If there were a few little wars being fought, it would be easy to find a place for the winter.

Especially for a knight so skilled as you, Sir Kenrick, Giles said loyally as he pulled off the hauberk with a ringing of metal links. The mail garment was splashed with mud up to the shoulders, and would require hours of cleaning.

Kenrick considered what castles might allow him and his squire to winter over. If the country was at war, he and his sword would be welcome anywhere, but in time of peace, a free lance knight, squire, and horses were merely more mouths to feed during the hungry months. I suppose we must go to Alveley. Since there’s always a risk of Welsh raiders, the Lord of Alveley should be willing to have us.

Giles looked depressed. Alveley Castle was surely the most crowded and uncomfortable fortress in England. They’d spent the previous winter there, and had left eagerly at the first scent of spring.

As Kenrick stripped off the padded garment that protected his body from the hard links of the hauberk, he wondered what he could have done differently. Granted, as a bastard he had been fortunate to receive knightly training at all. That had come as a result of his boyhood strength and fighting ability. He had won his first tourney wearing borrowed armor.

Since then, he had become known as the Dark Knight, respected for his skills even though many sneered at the bar sinister that slashed across his scarlet shield and proclaimed his illegitimacy. Still, other bastards had established themselves comfortably. He had expected that by now he would have earned land and a wife.

Instead, though he did well enough in tourneys to support himself and his squire, he lived a hand to mouth existence with no place to call home. Once, a wealthy lord who admired his fighting skill had hinted that he would consider Kenrick a suitable match for his daughter. The fiefdom of a fine manor would have come with her. But the subject had been dropped, never to be raised again. Giles heard a rumor through the squires’ grapevine that the lord’s daughter had found Kenrick too dark, too frightening. Given the scar that slashed down his left cheek, he couldn’t blame her for her reaction.

Whatever the reasons, he had never managed to impress a lord enough to be granted a fief of his own, and without land he couldn’t take a wife. One night, deep in his cups, a baron had said that the trouble with Kenrick was that he was so by-the-saints independent. The term stubborn had been used also. The words had not been meant as a compliment.

After Kenrick dried himself with rough towels, he dressed for the feast that would be held to celebrate the end of the tournament. He hoped the great hall would be dark enough that the shabby condition of his best garments wouldn’t be obvious.

Giles poured him a goblet of wine. I was talking with some of the other squires, he said hesitantly. ’Tis said that a mighty baron is looking for a champion who will be richly rewarded if he can successfully perform a dangerous task.

Even though this was surely no more than squire gossip, Kenrick couldn’t help but be curious. What kind of reward?

The fiefdom of a handsome manor by the sea. Giles poured a second goblet for himself. In Cornwall.

And what is the dangerous task?

The squire said hesitantly, To…to slay a dragon.

Kenrick almost choked on his wine. Blessed Mother, that’s a troubadour’s tale! Do you know anyone who has actually seen a dragon? No, it’s always a friend of the cousin of the baker’s wife, who lives two hundred leagues away. There are no dragons.

One of the squires I was talking with last night said he’d seen one, Giles retorted. And…and I thought I saw one once when I was on the coast of Wales. I’m not sure since it was so far away. But it didn’t fly like any bird I’ve ever seen.

So you believe in dragons. Kenrick took a more cautious mouthful of wine. He hadn’t known the boy was so credulous.

I’m not sure, Giles said carefully. But they might exist—there are so many stories over so many years. If the danger in Cornwall isn’t a dragon, perhaps it is some other peril that you may conquer to win the fiefdom.

Perhaps, if your tale is true. But if we were to investigate, we would need a name and location. Such tales are usually remarkably free of details. Who is the baron? Where is the estate? Kenrick shook his head and finished his wine.

Lord William of Penruth, Giles said promptly. His castle is on the south coast of Cornwall.

Kenrick frowned and rested the goblet on his knee. I’ve heard of Penruth. He’s a rich and powerful man. Why would he need to lure a champion by such means? He must have a goodly number of knights and men-at-arms.

’Tis said that several of his own men died in the quest, and the rest refuse to try.

They sound a poor lot, Kenrick said, but the detail made the story seem more believable. So Penruth thinks a tournament champion would be better able to defeat the menace, whatever it is.

Or he thinks it’s easier to let free lance knights get killed, Giles said dryly.

So cynical for one so young, Kenrick murmured. Did your gossiping squires know if any tournament knights intend to accept the challenge?

Giles frowned. ’Tis said that several already have. None survived.

The squire listed several names. Two were men Kenrick had fought against in earlier tourneys. He hadn’t seen either in a while, now that he thought about it. If this is true, there may real danger on the Cornish coast. Pirates or bandits if not dragons.

He finished his wine in a gulp and held the goblet out for more. For the chance of a fiefdom, he would risk much. Shall we venture forth to test our luck? At the least, it might be warmer that far south.

Giles’ face glowed with excitement. Yes, sire!

As they swallowed the rest of their wine, Kenrick hoped they wouldn’t regret this improbable quest.

Chapter 2

Kenrick pulled his horse to a halt as they reached the