Kingmaker

By The Sword #1

The days after Ava had been wounded by soldiers of York had taken their toll. Her shoulder was healing well and was free of infection. Her horse was well on the way to recovery, and was doing fine. They had since arrived back at Warwick Castle; the plan of heading to Lancaster had been changed when Ava had warned of the danger of passing by Preston to get there.
As the Sir Richard and Sir George ate with a few men from their army, Ava silently trained a few feet from them. Desperately trying to wield a sword now that her shoulder had been wounded. It was painful, and it was clear on her face. She became frustrated. Glancing to the lances that leaned against the castle wall. She wanted to joust. It had always been an interest, and she had begun training with York. She wanted to continue that training. Tossing her sword into the dirt in frustration, she called for a horse to be brought to her. With Crispin still healing, she was brought another stallion by the name of Spur. Silently, she pulled herself into the saddle. A lance being handed up to her with great difficulty. The weight hurt her shoulder. She handed the lance back down to the soldier at her side. Mentally kicking herself. Before she tried to hold it again.
"She can barely wield a sword. Yet she tries to wield a lance" commented one of the soldiers that sat beside Sir Richard. "It's determination" sighed the knight, watching Ava. "The bolt that hit had missed the bone and had only pierced flesh and muscle. Both will heal in time" he said, drawing his gaze back to his meal. Ava had denied the food, her plate remaining covered in a spare seat to the left of Neville. "Isn't she holding it in the wrong hand?" asked another soldier across the table. "Yes, but she's trying to build strength in both arms. Her right arm is her sword, and lance one. Her left is her weakest side. The lances weigh ten pounds. She'll build her strength quickly this way"
Ava visibly began to get angry at herself. Frustrated at her inability to wield a lance or sword in her left hand. "I would sooner strain my shoulder" she muttered under her breath. Now jumping from the horse in frustration, she grabbed her sword once more. Swinging at a target over and over with her wounded shoulder. The more she trained with the arm, the more pain was visible on her face. But at the same time, the more she would develop a level of pain tolerance. Over and over would she strike the target. In her head picturing it as Sir Henry Stafford, or Sir John Howard. Under her breath, she murmured "For Lancaster. And for King Henry"
The King himself had since joined the knights and the men at a table near where Ava was training. The man had watched her intensly. He saw passion. Determination. Dedication. And pure will and strength. He knew of her injury. Yet she still trained. He had to give her recognition for her actions really. She had put herself on the line to get close to York for information. She had risked her life already for the Crown. Deciding that he would indeed knight Ava, the King stood from his seat. "Ava! A moment, if I may!" he called with a broad smile, catching Ava's attention as she jumped from the stallion. Bowing to the King. "Sire" she smiled, standing to face him as he approached.
Behind the King, a soldier followed in silence. His face more covered than the rest. He looked young in build. Around 25 years old. Ava had noticed the man. It seemed no one else had as a group of servants blocked their view now, bringing more food.
She watched the man for a moment longer. Within seconds, she had shoved the King out of the way and behind her. Standing before the man with her sword drawn against the soldier. He had produced a sword of his own, and now stood against Ava and the King behind her. "Sheathe your blade or I wil slay you where you stand" she stated. Keeping the words clear as day. The soldier merely laughed. "Or what? Going to fight me with that shoulder?" He knew of her injury. Ava narrowed her eyes seconds before the man lunged for her. The pair clashed swords, Ava gaining a small upper hand when she mustered the strength to shove the man further away from her and King Henry. "Stay behind me, Sire" she said, glancing back at the King as she deflected another hit from the soldier. They clashed swords over and over, with Ava taking the man down several times. This man was desperately trying to get to the King, but he wasn't going to get anywhere near him. Seeing enough of this man, Ava clashed swords with him once more. Applying enough pressure until he was disarmed, his sword kicked away by Ava to the feet of the Lancastrian soldiers that stood and watched on. Ava was doing extremely well for someone with an injury to their sword arm.
She kicked the mans' feet from beneath him, standing over him. "You won't get close to our King. Now whilst I'm around" she hissed, slamming her sword through his forearm to keep him on the ground. She crouched to his side. "Who sent you" she stated, demanding an answer in his tone. "Fuck you" was the response given by the soldier. Annoyed, Ava punched the man in the gut. "Who fucking sent you" she snapped again, demanding an answer as she now clamped a hand around the mans throat. "No one commands me" hissed the soldier, he clawed at Ava's face with his gauntlets. Cutting part of her cheek, and just above her eye. Spots of blood appearing within seconds.
Ava instantly punched the soldier in the nose. "Don't fucking lie to me. I know Stafford put you up tp this. What did he promise you. Coin?" she hissed. The smirk of the soldier confirming her suspicions. With a growl, Ava cut the mans throat with a dagger from her belt, pulling her sword out of his forearm as she stood. She turned from the mans body, blood trailing lightly down her face. "I should send your head to Stafford for your plans" she muttered. The soldiers around her stunned to silence by her actions.
King Henry stared at the soldier for a moment, then looked to Ava. "Your actions... Thank you. I had no idea that man was of York. You fought honourably. And with an injury. Ava, I am most grateful for what you have done today. Kneel, please" The soldiers around them all placed their fists upon their chests. Knowing what was about to happen. Ava, without a clue, knelt before the King, holding her sword pointed to the ground as she did so. It a moment of silence, the King drew his own sword.

"It is with great honour. That I dub thee. Lady Ava Woodville of Lancaster" he tapped her shoulders lightly with his sword as her head bowed. Should her surname change, the title would still stand, and she would not need to be knighted again. "A soldier of the Crown and of Lancaster. A knight of the red rose. Stand, Lady Ava" He offered a hand to her, which was taken gently. As he helped her to stand, he walked forwards with her. His hand respectfully resting on hers. "Gentlemen. Celebrate. For our Ava is now a Lady of Lancaster!"
The soldiers gave an almighty roar of a cheer. Sir Richard and Sir George bowing their heads to her with smiles. She was now one of them. An official knight.
Ava returned to sit with Neville, Plantagenet and the King now. Their soldiers sitting around them on many different tables. "Who knew gauntlets could hurt so much" chuckled Ava, wiping her face on her sleeve. "At least they didn't go as deep as the bolt did" commented Plantagenet, who glanced at Neville as he commented. The pair seeming to have a silent thought between them as they chuckled, and Ava gained a slight redness of embarassment. The King had seen, and chuckled. Seeming to understand; "You're embarassing the poor girl now" commented one of the soldiers to the left of Ava with a light chuckle.
The group laughed and talked about many things as the day went on. Enjoying food and drink as they did so. Ava had done a huge duty to the Crown today, and in doing so, she had more than proven her loyalty to Lancaster and King Henry. As the evening drew in, Ava leaned against Sir Richard, the knight keeping his arm around her as he drank. Everyone but Ava, Neville and the King had had their fill of drink and good food. Some were more drunk than others to say the least. Neville lazily pushed his nose to Ava's neck. More tired than he was drunk considering he hadn't had much to drink at all. He pressed his lips softly to the exposed skin, not caring if anyone saw. They were all too drunk to remember anyway, and the King had since left for sleep in the castle.
They were both knights now. A Sir and a Lady of Lancaster. Knights of Lancaster. Once they were both under the name, Neville. It would be even more perfect. But Sir Richard would wait before he asked for her hand.
Love was worth waiting for.

[Authors Note: Ava was knighted! Had to happen!]