I was born on Dec 2, 1159 to a Lady-in-Waiting
to Eleanor of Aquitaine. My father was a Knight who refused to
acknowledge my birth. Upon hearing the news of the betrayal, my young mother
immediately then threw herself from a parapet.
My maternal grandfather, who himself was a Baron
in Brittany, agreed to take me, then hours-old, home to raise as his own. I was
taught to read and write as well as the art of the sword and the lance. My
grandfather loved me well from the first, creating a strong bond between the
old warrior and myself. I learned all I knew from the knee of the Baron, and we
would often spar until late into the evening.
By the age of 13, I was well-accomplished at
sword and lance and knew much of the outer world. One day out hunting boar with
my grandfather, I caught the notice of a young Prince Richard. Invited to join
the Royal Hunt, Prince Richard and I spent several days together and eventually
became life-long friends. We two often spent hours hunting and sparring
together, each matched equally well.
In 1175, I helped my friend and Prince put down
a formidable revolt, exacting homage from the court of Toulouse.
I was yet again with the young Prince when Young
Henry invaded Aquitaine, staying at Richard’s side - unlike those whose names I
will not mention.
In June of 1191, I left with my King for the Crusades
for the Holy Land. At Acre, we joined with the other Crusaders and we reduced
it to rubble. Sometime later the same year, we met the Devil himself in the
form of Saladin. At Arsurf, twice we fiercely fought and won, but in that
second battle I was severely wounded, an arrow to the shoulder and two more –
one in each leg. Dragged from the field, I regretted my wounds that prevented
me from continuing the fight. As I lay bleeding, the King Himself came into
the tent of the hospitaller tent to comfort me and to tell me of the outcome to
the battle. He told me they were going to have to take their leave, but before
going, He had a few gifts for me as a sign of our friendship and my loyalty
over the years preceding. One, he granted me my Award of Arms. Two, upon the
death of my beloved grandfather, I was to be granted his familial lands and
property. Only then did my friend and companion bid me farewell.
I spent the next four months recuperating with
the Knights Hospitallers, and at last was then sent homeward.
Upon my arrival home in August of 1193, my grandfather
had a lavish banquet prepared for me in my honor. Later that evening, I was
introduced to a couple and their young daughter from the Black Forest.
Grandfather had arranged a marriage between the young Katyn and me. Three years
later, we at last were wed on a clear and bright morning in June.
Over the next twelve years we were gifted with
five children, three of whom were boys and two girls, but the last birth was especially
difficult. Two days later, my beloved was gone. The babe, however, lived and
thrived.
Life was not the same after 1208. My friend and
benefactor, King Richard died merely a year later. Things just kept getting
worse for me. We had a terrible blight that year, and a drought the year that
followed. Finally, in 1211, my neighbors came raiding. My oldest saw them
first, riding over the fences. He took to horse and rode in sounding the alarm.
We had no time to gather in crops or livestock. It was close quarter combat. I
saw my middle son go down with an arrow in his neck. The next thing I remember
is having two of the enemy upon me. Daniel, my eldest, yelled for me to hold on
for he was coming toward us. I keep on fighting for dear life, my arms getting
sorer, my legs tired. I feel a slice burning into my right arm and the ground
rising to meet me. I sense a second, cutting deep into my stomach. My blood
spills out, pooling around me as my guts spew forth. As the light leaves my
eyes and the very life force seeps from my body, I hear a hawk screaming high above
as he circles the field below. Alas, the Hawke will fight no more.
