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Author's Note
Summary: When Sir Richard reaches his eighteenth
birthday, he becomes the target for evil men and brazen women seeking easy wealth. It's up
to Castle Wayne's wise Seneschal, Alfred, the Duke of Pennyworth, Lady Barbara Gordon, his
true love, and of course, his guardian, Bruce Lord Wayne to ensure Richard's safe passage
into his majority. To make matters worse, the legendary island kingdom of Avalon is under
assault by the dark forces of an age-old enemy.
Acknowledgment: My thanks to Fencing Online for their
helpful FAQ and glossary of fencing terms; also, to the New Bedford Whaling Museum online
listing of Shipboard Terms. Any and all gross errors are strictly the author's. And
special a thanks to all who took the time to read the endless drafts and were gracious
enough to offer input.
Feedback goes to efrancis@earthlink.net.
Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by DC Comics
and Time/Warner; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their
copyright.
Copyright 1999
Sir Richard Grayson: Emerald
Dawn
(An Elseworlds Saga)
By Syl Francis
"There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will." (Hamlet V, 2)
Prologue
It is said that somewhere in the mists of time lies the
small island kingdom of Avalon, the jewel of the North Sea. Some say it is the stuff of
legends, a tale to entertain children on a cold winter's day. Still others say that it
exists today in a time and place not unlike our own where familiar heroes live and fight
for justice. Regardless whether one believes in the verity of its existence, our story
begins as the peaceful realm is about to be visited by an age-old evil that awakes from a
centuries-long sleep . . .
Chapter One
"Good night, Sir Richard!" Mavis the tavern
maid waved from the window of her boudoir. Her sister, Elspeth, quickly joined her.
"Good night! Hurry back!"
Sir Richard waved jauntily at them from his fiery
steed, Nightwing. He pulled Nightwing back on his haunches, then with a final
"Tally-ho!" charged into the gathering night. Castle Wayne's Seneschal, Alfred,
the Duke of Pennyworth, would have his hide in the morn if he failed to return before the
gates were lowered for the night.
His guardian, Bruce, Lord of Castle Wayne had left
strict orders. His young ward *would* heed the nightly curfew, as did all the good
citizens of Castle Wayne. Richard looked at the eastern horizon and suddenly spurred
Nightwing to even greater speed. The evening star was just visible; it was later than he'd
thought! If he missed curfew, he wouldn't have to worry about Alfred, *Bruce* would take
care of him.
As he rounded the final bend on the road to Castle
Wayne, Richard saw that they were just beginning to raise the drawbridge.
"Let's go, Nightwing!" he yelled. He took off
his rakish hat in a flourish and used it to urge his loyal steed to even greater speed.
Nightwing suddenly seemed possessed of an almost supernatural speed. As he increased his
pace, it appeared as if rider and horse were literally flying. Nightwing's gait was so
incredibly smooth, Richard couldn't feel the ground below them. In a flash, Nightwing went
airborne and they successfully leaped across the distance that separated them from the
partially raised drawbridge.
As they landed safely and rode under the quickly
descending gates, Richard was met with whistles and wolf calls from his fellow knights who
were on sentry duty.
"Did she have a sister?" Someone called out.
"Aye. That she did," another replied.
"And she probably had a husband, too!" This was accompanied by raucous laughter.
Richard merely waved, not slowing until he reached the
stables. He dismounted quickly and began walking Nightwing around the exercise ring. After
that last surge of energy that Nightwing had given, Richard had to ensure that his trusty
friend was sufficiently cooled, before he bedded him down for the night. After a few
minutes, Richard removed Nightwing's saddle and blanket, brushed him down, and taking his
bridle, Richard led him to the watering trough, and finally to his stall.
Richard gave Nightwing an extra helping of oats to show
his gratitude. He also pulled out an apple that he'd palmed from the Hogshead Tavern that
night.
"Here you go, boy," he said softly. Nightwing
eagerly took the proffered apple and nuzzled his young master. Richard laughed
delightedly. "You old fake . . . you knew what those two were up to all the time,
didn't you? That's why you were waiting for me!" Nightwing snuffled into Richard's
shoulder, then bobbed his head up and down, giving the idea that he understood.
Richard smiled and patted his companion affectionately.
"The sentry who implied that I'd been with a married woman will never know just how
close to the truth he actually was." Grinning suddenly, Richard held his closed hands
out on either side of him. Nightwing immediately recognized the game that they'd been
playing since he was a young colt. He began to sniff at Richard's closed fists; then
finally moved to dig into his master's leather jerkin. Richard laughed and took out an
extra large carrot.
An intolerant whinny came from two stalls down.
Nightstar, personal war-horse to Lord Wayne and Nightwing's sire, had announced his
displeasure at the youngsters' late arrival.
"Greetings, old timer . . . Yes, I know we were
foolish, but as you can see neither of us is any worse for wear. Here, I brought you a
treat, too." Richard pulled out a second apple that he'd managed to hide from
Nightwing's eager nose and held it out to the older stallion.
Watching Wayne's beloved steed munch happily at the
unexpected treat, Richard absentmindedly stroked his white star blaze and sighed. Ever
since he'd reached the age of eighteen, and in the eyes of the locals had arrived at his
majority, the women of neighboring hamlets had been after him. Thankfully, his father's
Last Will and Testament had been specific. John Lord Grayson had wanted his son to be
placed under the guardianship of his good friend, Bruce Lord Wayne. Furthermore, Richard
wouldn't come into his full inheritance until he reached the age of one and twenty years.
Lord Grayson knew that young gentlemen made handsome
targets for both evil men and brazen women in search of easy wealth. Therefore, even
though legally he'd reached the age of consent, Richard willingly honored his father's
memory and took a vow of fealty to Lord Wayne. He remembered the solemn ceremony some nine
years past. A ceremony marred only by the all too recent deaths of both of his parents
while in the service of the King.
****
"I swear by my sword and my honor that I am your
loyal vassal, to serve you faithfully until such occasion as you choose to release
me." Richard stood in the Great Circular Hall of Castle Wayne before a gathering of
the Clan Chiefs; he was dressed proudly in his full Grayson regalia, the proud Grayson
tartan of crimson, gold, and emerald casting a bright swath of color in the gloomy
interior of the great hall. The motto, "Constant and True," was etched in Gaelic
on his shield.
A mere lad of nine, Richard was now the hereditary
Chieftain of Clan Grayson. His holdings included his ancestral home, Graetheson Court,
which was located on the rocky cliffs of Solway Firth. The surrounding Lowland areas of
Dumfrieshire and Strathclyde were also part of the Grayson lands. Graetheson Court's
proximity to the Northern Wastelands made it a vital strategic holding in King Orrin's
realm, the island kingdom of Avalon, the jewel of the North Sea.
Therefore, in obedience to his father's last will,
Richard swore fealty to an Outlander, a non-Clansman. The other Clan Chiefs might have
privately disapproved, but publicly they supported the wishes of Lord Grayson. Richard
knelt in the traditional supplicant's position, head lowered, his sword held before him
hilt forward as an offering to his new lord.
Lord Wayne solemnly took the sword, then held out his
right hand. Richard kissed the Wayne signet ring to seal his oath. Completing the
ceremony, Wayne lightly tapped Richard on each shoulder and stated formally: "I
accept your fealty, Sir Richard, Lord Grayson. Rise and serve me until such occasion as I
choose to release you from your oath."
****
A quiet whinny from Elinore's stall woke Richard from
his musings. The usual stable sounds of stamping hoofs and rattling halters added a
soothing symphony to the quiet surroundings. Elinore's time was drawing near. This was her
first foal, and both Richard and Nightwing, the proud father, were anxiously awaiting the
blessed event.
"Shh-h, Lady Elinore," Richard said gently.
He entered her stall where she lay on her side. Elinore delicately raised her head at the
sound of Richard's voice. He knelt next to her and gently stroked her neck. "Shh-h,
beautiful lady . . . pretty mother . . . " Richard continued speaking nonsensical
endearing phrases.
Lord Grayson had had a magic touch with horses,
something about his whispered sorcerer's blood. Some said that he was descended from the
band of wandering Romany sorcerers who used to inhabit the foothills and countryside
surrounding the Trossachs, the mountains that ran along the southern boundary of the
Caledonian Highlands. Whatever it was, Richard knew instinctively that he had his father's
gift with horses. A voice behind him expressed agreement.
"You *do* have your father's touch, Dicky."
Annoyed, Richard looked up towards the sound of the
voice. There was only person who dared call him by the hated nickname, Lady Barbara, the
daughter of Captain Sir James Gordon, Captain of the Castle Guards. Richard felt the usual
confusion that her presence always seemed to place him in. He ducked his head quickly to
hide the sudden flush that had spread across his cheeks. He pretended to be closely
studying Elinore's mane.
As usual, Lady Barbara was dressed in a skirt and
bodice made of simple homespun linen; she wore a white apron over it that was stained from
her daily household chores. Richard knew that the apron had been as white as fresh-fallen
snow when she'd put it on first thing that morning; however, Barbara worked as hard as any
of the household servants even though she was not required to do so because of her
station.
"Good e'en, Lady Barbara," he said. He'd
*almost* called her Lady *Babs*, a name she despised as much as he hated *Dicky*; however,
Richard was raised to be a gentleman, and a knight *never* insulted a lady, however well
deserved. Of course, Barbara Gordon is no lady, he added darkly to himself.
"Have you decided on a name for the wee one,
yet?"
"Aye," Richard said, disarmed; Elinore's foal
was currently his favorite topic of discussion. "Bruce and I have decided on *Elaine*
if the foal's a filly, and if it's a colt, then *Nightwind*." Barbara smiled her
approval.
"What do *you* think Lady Elinore?" Elinore
whinnied in gentle approval. Barbara and Richard exchanged amused glances. Barbara's eyes
suddenly took on an impish twinkle.
"I hear you've been paying a visit to Hogshead
Tavern this e'en," she said. She was looking at him saucily askance. Richard sighed.
Here it comes, he thought.
"Aye, you heard correctly," he admitted
reluctantly.
"So how is Bullock the Tavern owner?" she
asked innocently.
"He is in good health," Richard replied.
"Oh, really? Did you see him then? I'd heard that
he was in Gotham Town these past two days, selling and buying wares. I heard not of his
return from his travels."
"Nay, I saw him not," Richard admitted.
"But his good wife Mavis did inform me of his excellent health."
"I see . . . so it was with Mistress Bullock with
whom you spent this e'en?" Richard began to shake his head in denial, then perversely
changed his mind. Lady Barbara was heartily enjoying his discomfiture, and he had had just
about enough. He suddenly gave her a devilish smile with a suggestive twinkle. Placing his
hands behind his head, Richard lay back casually on the soft hay in Elinore's stall.
"Aye, in fact, her sister, the maiden Elspeth, was
there as well. We spent quite an interesting afternoon together, the three of us. Before I
knew it, it was time to return to Castle Wayne. But I assure you, my lady, that a young
gentleman could not hope for two lovelier wenches with whom to while the idle hours."
Barbara's green eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed in
obvious anger. "Sir Richard, son of John Lord Grayson, you are a disgrace to your
knightly vows!" Barbara turned on her heel and stamped out of the stables.
Richard grinned.
In fact, Richard had indeed spent an *interesting*
afternoon with Bullock's good wife, Mavis, and her maiden sister Elspeth. Which is why
he'd left the Hogshead Tavern in such a rush; Mavis' intentions soon became all too
obvious to the young knight. Richard liked and respected Bullock, the owner of the
Hogshead, and had actually been there that evening to speak with him.
As Barbara stated, Bullock had been out, but Richard
had not discovered that fact until almost too late. Mavis had tried to place him in a
compromising position by misleading him into believing that Bullock was in the upstairs
bedchamber and that he wanted to see him.
Upon entering the bedchamber Richard discovered, not
Bullock, but Elspeth lying in bed completely unclothed. Nude. Totally. Richard was almost
frozen in shock. When Mavis suddenly locked the door behind her, and Elspeth flipped up
her covers invitingly, Richard sprang into action.
He literally flew out the second story window,
somersaulting in mid-air and grabbing the flagpole that hung from the building's facade.
He allowed his momentum to swing him around the flagpole once. As he completed his
revolution he whistled for Nightwing, released his grip and flew towards his horse.
He'd timed his release so that he landed on Nightwing
as his horse galloped below him. He quickly settled into his seat, spun Nightwing around,
looked up at the window and gallantly waved adieu to the two women who'd tried to
compromise his honor.
If he'd known that turning eighteen would be this
nerve-racking, Richard thought glumly, he'd never have insisted on a birthday celebration!
Now it seemed as if every unmarried maiden (and married woman) knew that he'd reached his
legal age and could enter into a betrothal contract. Well, he wasn't ready to become
betrothed to anybody! Why didn't they pick on someone their own size--like Lord Wayne? He
was unmarried . . . and wealthy! He owned the part of the realm that the King didn't, or
so the saying went.
Anyway, the only damsels whom Richard had met so far
were silly and giggled constantly. It seemed to Richard that the mothers were even worse:
they insistently pushed their awkward daughters towards him, forcing an introduction,
which invariably ended with the gawky young girl looking like she wanted to be swallowed
whole.
Truth be told, the only girl who didn't seem to swoon
at his feet was Barbara; however, she was a few years older than he and loved to lord it
over him in a superior manner. Anyway, she apparently couldn't stand him personally, and
would just as soon run him through with her father's saber as look at him. Not that he'd
ever ask *her* for her hand.
Although, he admitted privately that she *did* have
lovely green eyes. And she was an expert rider, as well as an accomplished swordswoman.
And, she hardly ever giggled, except at *his* expense, he added, his eyes narrowing.
The church bells rang the hour: seven o'clock! He would
be late for the even repast if he didn't hurry, and Alfred was a stickler for promptness!
He slipped into his seat while Fra Haly gave the blessing. Haly had been the Grayson
family's personal confessor. He had officiated at Lord and Lady Grayson's marriage
nuptials and at the baptism and christening of their only son. Richard was extremely fond
of him.
" . . . Father, as we thank you for this fine
evening repast, we ask you to guide young Sir Richard through his life's journey so that
the decisions he makes are wise ones." Richard cringed at the mention of his name.
"We ask this in your name . . . Amen."
The table responded with a round of "Amens."
Sir Wallace looked over at Richard and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Sir Roy joined
in the pantomime and soon both young knights looked ready to collapse in laughter. Richard
rolled his eyes upward. He glanced to the other end of the table where Lady Barbara
usually sat with her father. She was talking animatedly to someone whom Richard did not
know. A visitor to Castle Wayne was a rare enough occasion to warrant investigation.
"Sir Richard!" Wayne's booming voice could be
heard reverberating around the great hall.
"My lord!" Richard responded, instantaneously
on his feet and facing his lord.
"Nay, Richard . . . please, remain seated,"
Wayne said placatingly. "I wish to introduce you to Master Jack Rapier. Master Rapier
brings us glad tidings from their majesties, King Orrin and Queen Diana. They shall be
paying us a visit within the next moon tide."
"That is indeed good news, my lord. 'Tis an age
since last I saw my aunt and uncle," Richard replied.
"Aye, it is," Wayne answered. The occasion of
the last royal visit had not been cause for celebration; instead, their majesties had
escorted home the remains of Richard's parents in solemn procession. The Graysons had lain
in state for five days. Mourners had traveled from throughout the kingdom to pay their
last respects to the queen's much beloved sister and brother-in-law.
Since Wayne had been designated Richard's guardian, the
ties binding Castle Wayne to the royal court had become further strengthened. Moreover, as
Wayne was unmarried and childless, and because he felt a fatherly affection for his ward,
he had recently named Sir Richard his sole heir as well. While Wayne's decision went over
quite well with the local populace, it only enhanced Richard's feelings that he was just
so much beef on the hoof waiting for some lucky wench to dig her meat hooks into him.
Wayne's fingers moved in the secret signal. Richard
responded in kind, "Message received." He looked over in Alfred's direction; the
loyal Seneschal gave the barest nod. Excellent! There was need for the Nightriders!
Richard felt the adrenaline course through his veins. He turned towards the food on his
plate. He ate whatever was placed in front of him, but couldn't remember any of the
delicacies that Cook had so painstakingly prepared.
He heard laughter coming from Barbara's location.
Barbara looked unusually flushed tonight; her complexion glowed in the dim lighting
streaming from the hundreds of candles suspended over head. Her Titian hair, tied back in
a hair net delicately comprised of white pearls, was seemingly alight with the fire of
countless suns. She had changed for dinner, of course, and was now wearing a beautifully
brocaded formal gown that had an embroidered bodice of the softest meadow green, which
enchantingly set off her eyes.
Master Rapier leaned over and said something to her
that brought a breath-taking smile. Richard felt a sudden stab of jealousy course through
him. Who was this kingsman, Rapier? He'd never *heard* of him! The anticipated excitement
of the evening's activities left him.
"Would ye care for any more of the turkey breast,
Sir Richard?" Richard came out of his reverie and looked up at the beautiful brown
eyes of the buxom serving maid, Bess. Bess was one of the many unattached girls who were
constantly offering up their wares to the young knight. So far, he'd been able to resist
her advances--basically because he was terrified of her and had somehow managed to always
see her first, thus allowing him time to escape in the direction opposite to that which
she was going. Besides, there was something about her that made him distinctly
uncomfortable.
Bess leaned down until her well-endowed decolletage was
at his eye level. Richard felt his whole body flush hotly.
"Uh-h . . . breast? Uh-h . . . I mean . . . turkey
. . . no, I-I'm full, Bess . . . I couldn't eat another . . . breast . . . " He
swallowed, then looked up at her horrified that he may have said or done something
offensive. Instead, Bess was giving him a smile full of secret promises. Her eyes . . .
her eyes bothered him. Despite their promise of forbidden pleasures, they seemed cold . .
. almost calculating.
"I'll be in the east gate stables later this
e'en," she whispered. With that, the young serving maid began to clear Richard's
table setting. A couple of times she lightly brushed against him, causing him to jump
nervously. He sneaked a peek over at Barbara and to his utter dismay, he saw her eyes
targeting daggers at him.
Richard caught the knowing looks that Wallace and Roy
were sending him. Then, like a dark shadow descending on his very soul, he *felt* Lord
Wayne's eyes on him. Richard looked at Wayne and caught a glittering look of disapproval
in his eyes. Richard was well versed in this look; he'd seen it enough times when Wayne
directed it at some hapless highwayman who'd dared to practice his art on Castle Wayne
lands. He knew it well enough to know that he didn't want it turned on him.
Richard wondered that if he wished long and hard enough
whether the ground would suddenly open up and swallow him. Now he knew how all of those
awkward girls felt when they were thrust on him by their mothers. This was turning into
just a wonderful evening, he thought.
As Richard sat there forlornly wishing he knew how to
perform the disappearing act that Wayne's magician, the Great Zatar, had perfected, he
again felt a pair of eyes on him. This time however the sensation he was receiving wasn't
Wayne's disapproval or Barbara's jealous anger; instead, a feeling of cold, abject
malevolence seemed to descend on him, a sensation of such intense malignity that Richard
felt it as a shroud settling over him in suffocating folds.
Richard began to dissociate as he often did when he
couldn't separate the physical reality around him from the metaphysical regions that
seemed to draw him forth. He looked around the great hall as if in a dream. Wallace and
Roy were both leering at Bess, laughing good-naturedly as she sidestepped their drunken
advances. Barbara was tossing her head back, finishing off her goblet of mead in an almost
defiant manner. Lord Wayne was leaning over and speaking in quiet undertones to Alfred who
nodded sagely.
Finally, Richard's eyes came to rest on Rapier. Rapier
had his right arm resting on the back of Barbara's chair. He was leaning closely to her,
smiling charmingly, easily, whispering in her ear. Barbara's face blushed prettily and she
quickly dropped her eyes. She seemed suddenly nervous and moved slightly away from Rapier,
apparently to put distance between them.
Rapier gallantly moved away from her. Then, to
Richard's surprise, Rapier turned around and looked him fully in the eyes, holding him in
his mesmerizing gaze. Time seemed to stand still. Richard suddenly blinked and the
firmament resumed its normal place within the celestial spheres. Rapier gave him a knowing
smile, then stood.
"Lord Wayne . . . Lady Barbara . . . fellow
knights of the realm, and ladies . . . I propose a toast . . . to their Majesties . . .
King Orrin and Queen Diana . . . long life and prosperity!" All rose and responded
heartily.
"To the King and Queen . . . long life and
prosperity!" They tossed back their goblets, then as one threw them at the great
fireplace. "Here, here! Long live King Orrin and Queen Diana!"
"My Lord Wayne, I have had a long and tiring
journey. I beg your indulgence and request to retire for the night to my guest
chambers," Rapier said.
Wayne nodded his acquiescence. "Alfred shall see
to your needs, Master Rapier. Sleep well."
"Thank you, my lord. Your hospitality has been
unsurpassed. I bid you good night." Rapier turned and followed Alfred to his guest
quarters. Following Rapier's lead, Richard stood up as well.
"My lord, I too have had a long day. I beg your
indulgence to excuse me from the rest of the evening's festivities and allow me to retire
to my private chambers." Wayne nodded. He gave Richard the sign meaning midnight
sharp at the usual rendezvous. Richard acknowledged the message then headed towards his
apartments. He had a little over three hours before he had to meet Wayne; therefore, he'd
use the time to bathe and refresh himself. It had been a long, arduous ride from the
Hogshead Tavern.
He wondered what dark activities required the services
of the Nightriders. The Dark Knight and his squire Robin were becoming legendary in these
parts. Of course, no one really believed in their actual existence, just folktales
invented to excite and frighten children at night. There were those who insisted that the
Nightriders rode out of the shadows on their thundering steeds, and others who swore that
they swooped in from the sky--like bats in the night. Whatever the impossible tales, they
were all in agreement in one thing: the Nightriders rescued the helpless from the forces
of the dark that rumors said were encroaching into Avalon.
Richard wondered if there were indeed forces from the
nether regions wending their way into King Orrin's kingdom. Legend said that during the
Time of the Dark, when the kingdom was held in thrall by the evil hand of the wicked
sorcerer Mordant, the Romany sorcerers had banded together with the Emerald Guardians for
one last devastating battle and had defeated the baneful mage's dark armies.
However, the powerful magical energies that had been
released by both sides had destroyed much of the realm, resulting in the destruction of
what had once been the northern mountain range, which had bordered the two lands. Now only
a vast wasteland of unbroken desert lay for hundreds of miles as the crow flew. For two
centuries no one who had ventured into these regions had returned.
Some said that Mordant had not been killed, but simply
lay dormant, waiting to be awakened. Others said that it was merely legend, the stuff of
dreams.
Whatever the truth, Richard knew that what he had seen
these past few months weren't dreams. Perhaps they were the stuff of his worst nightmares,
but they weren't dreams. He still had the battle scars to prove it, he thought ruefully.
This was why Lord Wayne imposed a dusk to dawn curfew on the inhabitants of Castle Wayne
and the surroundings outlands.
There had been an inexplicable number of disappearances
in the past few months, accompanied with a growing sense of dread. Most of the missing
were little more than children: Young maids who'd never known a man's bed; boys who'd not
yet undergone any changes into manhood. Needless to say, many of the surrounding populace
were beginning to pack their few belongings and move into the relative protection of
Castle Wayne.
Reports were flying in from Lord Wayne's borderland
scouts that a vast Dark Legion was assembling beyond the Wastelands. Even more frightening
were the unconfirmed stories that Mordant had awakened.
Richard looked down at the family heirloom that hung
from his neck. A many-faceted emerald jewel surrounded by a ring of bright red rubies set
on a simple gold backing, the Emerald Eye was said to endow its wearer with the powerful
sorcery of the Romany clan. Unfortunately, his father had died before he'd passed the
Eye's secrets to him. While Richard greatly prized the family amulet, it was his father's
uncanny wisdom and knowledge of the secret arts that he wished he'd been given. Without
that knowledge, the Eye was little more than mere decoration.
Richard sighed. He'd best hurry if he were to make the
midnight rendezvous.
Chapter Two
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