Charles lowered his steel helmet onto his head and tightened his grip on the reins. His horse stomped and shuffled on the hardened mud. After days of waiting, the ground was finally dry enough for the cavalry to advance. To each side of him, knights on horseback clattered noisily, waiting to charge.

    He had hardly been able to sleep, but now, he felt no weariness. His heart beat madly. His body felt like it would run away on its own if he did not move soon. But he had to wait.

    Finally, the sun crested over the far hill. Charles gripped the hilt of his sword, and in one powerful movement, unsheathed it and thrust it into the sky. Behind him, horns blared. He spurred his horse hard, and shouted for the troops to charge.

    His steed galloped forward, and he felt the rumble in the ground of a wave of horses beating the earth with their hooves. They raced across the field.

    Their enemy was waiting for them: rows of sturdy men bearing shields, swords, axes, and clubs. Charles braced himself to meet their line, and swung his sword down, glancing off of a great oaken shield. He swung down again and met steel. Again and again, steel clashed with steel, wood, and iron. He turned so he could see the fighting around him. He watched and waited until the enemies were engaged on the entire front, then let out a shrill whistle.

    Charles turned his horse completely around, and spurred him on. Cutting down anyone who blocked his path, Charles broke free and retreated, followed by the rest of the cavalry. They rode hard back to where they had begun, more sporadically than before. Many were still breaking free as Charles neared their starting position. He pulled the reins hard to the side and faced the enemy again. Good, they were following.

    "Hold!" he shouted to the cavalry that had made it back. Charles watched the hilltop to the right of the field and waited. At any moment, their remaining forces would ride over the hill and surround the enemy, cutting off their retreat.

    Hurry, Leo, hurry, was all Charles could think. All his cavalry had made it back, and the enemy infantry was closing in.

    "Where are they?" one of Charles's generals shouted from behind him. "Where is the right flank?"

    "I don't know," he called back. He couldn't wait any longer. "We will fight alone!"

    There was time only for one volley of arrows. Charles pointed his sword behind him at the battalion of archers, and swung up and over his head. On his signal, the company of archers loosed a barrage of arrows into the sky above them. They rained down on the approaching infantry, but mostly hit their troops in the back. Those in front were already too close.

    "Charge!" Charles shouted, and the cavalry began their attack again. This time, they knew there would be no backup. The resulting battle was bloody and long, with many lives lost on each side. Finally the enemy infantry retreated, and Charles' army was able to push them back beyond their camp. They won this battle, but just barely.

    Charles rode to his own tent and let his squires help him down off his horse in his heavy armor. He stumbled when he hit the ground and had to be helped inside. He wasn't injured, or he didn't think he was, but his armor dug in everywhere. Every muscle burned. Squires removed his armor, piece by piece. His shirt was sweaty and dusty, but he didn't bother to change it.

    "Open twice the casks of ale for the men tonight," Charles called out as they left him alone. He collapsed onto his cot. He closed his eyes, but knew it would be a long time before he could sleep.

    The flap of the tent rustled, and Charles opened his eyes to see his cousin Leo, looking as fresh as he had that morning.

    "You bastard!" Charles saw red and stumbled out of bed. He lurched toward Leo, though his legs felt like they could give way at any moment. "Where were you?" He gripped the collar of Leo's shirt in his fists.

    Leo held up both his hands. "Look, they must have figured out our plan. They knew our position and intercepted us behind the hill."

    That wasn't enough for Charles. "And? Did you fight them? Did you engage them at all?"

    "Charles, be reasonable." Leo sighed. "I didn't want to lose any more men, alright? I knew you could handle them on your own."

    "You didn't want to lose any more men?" Charles pulled open the tent flap and pointed to the injured men and corpses being carried away from the field. "What about these men? Did they deserve to die?"

    "This is war, Charles, there will always—"

    "Get out. Just go."

    Leo did as he was told, and Charles sat back down on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

    "Your Majesty, your letters have arrived." An aide handed Charles a stack of letters.

    Daniela's was on top. Charles gently slid a knife under the wax seal and pulled out the folded parchment. It was thicker than usual.

    He read it carefully. Lady Lynette was the killer? He could hardly believe what he was reading. He didn't know the lady well, but she was popular at court, and seemed well-mannered and unaffected.

    The commotion at court must be misery right now, but it was good that it was all over. If Lynette had not been caught, Daniela would have been living every day in the company of a killer.

    But what was he to make of Leo's involvement? As far as they knew, Leo's only wrong-doing was seducing an unmarried woman. Charles did not like him any better for it, but it was not a crime. However, after today's battle, Charles could not help but suspect his cousin was more involved.

    No, his judgment must be clouded by anger. Charles brushed the thought away. He would have to learn Leo's side of the story eventually, but it was not urgent. He was just relieved to know that the trouble at home was over with, and glad that Daniela was able to resolve it.

    He read over the close of her letter.

I hope you will forgive me for responding so late, and forgive me for only writing letters that sound like reports. From now on, I hope my letters will only bear joyful tidings. And someday soon, yours will as well.

It is delightful to hear that you met with the nuns from the Abbey. Why does it come as no surprise that you are related to the Reverend Mother? I think she is quite similar to Queen Imelda, now that I give it some thought. I wonder if any similarities that exist between you and I are a result of our being raised by them. We are both of a more serious nature, even if the friends we choose are not. I think you and I are both thoughtful before we speak, and reluctant to do so when we do not have to. You are a better speaker than me, though, especially before the council, and you hold your position so confidently. In these last few days I have tried to be more like you in that way.

I am a hypocrite for asking this, but please write again soon. Somehow you always raise my spirits, even when I fear you are the one in the most need.

Your Wife,

Daniela

    How could a few paragraphs settle his mind so well? It was not just the words, it was knowing that Daniela had sent them to him. She could copy a children's grammar lesson, and he would read it over and over if he knew she had written it.

    He longed to return; to leave this wretched war and be by her side. He wanted to keep getting to know her in person, to learn more of what they had in common, and to learn how they differed. For now, all he could do was write back, and rest.