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She dashed her tears away. Her memories were precious and she treasured them. Zander had gone because he believed the king’s cause just and because it was the only way he could earn honours and return a rich knight. All her entreaties had not deterred him and so she’d watched him ride away. The years had been long since then and she had grieved for the love that might have been. While her father lived she had waited patiently, but now her soul cried out to the man she loved.
‘Where are you, Zander?’ she whispered as she followed a few steps behind her serving woman to the courtyard, where the burly groom waited. ‘Please return to me. I beg you, do not desert me.’
Raising her head, Elaine forced a smile to her lips as she passed through the courtyard. No one must realise that she was close to tears. Only a weak woman cried. Elaine was strong. She had won a promise from her uncle and she had more than two months of freedom before she must think about becoming the Earl of Newark’s bride.
‘When do we attack the castle?’ Stronmar looked at his lord, the Earl of Newark, as he walked into the hall where the scene was one of preparation for war. ‘All is ready, you have only to give the word, my lord.’
‘Howarth is a fool,’ the earl growled. ‘He told me that his niece would be mine at Christ’s Mass if I waited in patience, but a man should not be ruled by a woman’s whims. He should force her to obey him. There is no reason to wait.’
‘You do not need to wait. Howarth neglects to send out patrols and believes the rumours of a band of marauding bandits on his land are merely that. He has no idea that we have been the ones attacking travellers and burning the isolated cottages. We leave none to tell the tale.’
‘You have done well,’ the earl said and smiled thinly. ‘Had the lady agreed to the marriage I might have spared her uncle, but I shall not be thwarted. I want her and her lands—but she is Howarth’s heir. When her uncle dies she will be twice the heiress she is now, for besides the castle he has other manors in the north.’
Stronmar grinned, revealing a row of rotten teeth. He was an unfortunate-looking man, his features heavy and ugly, the stench of his breath worse than a latrine. His one redeeming feature was his loyalty to the earl and he would die for the lord who had rescued him when as a young lad he had lain close to starvation after his parents had both died from a terrible fever. The harvests had rotted in the fields that year, for a pestilence had killed most of the villagers. He, too, would have died had the lord not ordered him taken up and carried to his castle, where Stronmar had grown strong and tall as the years passed.
‘The lady will be yours, my lord. Give the word and we shall ride for the castle this very day. The fools will not suspect an attack and we may take them with scarcely a fight.’
‘Then we ride at once,’ the earl said. ‘I see no reason to wait when I may have the lady now. Once I have bedded her she will beg me to marry her. A woman must be shown who is the master or a man is nothing in his own home.’
‘The Lady Elaine is too proud for her own good.’
The earl nodded, his thick lips curving in a sneer. ‘Pride such as hers must be curbed, and methinks I shall find it amusing to teach the wench a lesson she will not forget. Besides, I need an heir, for my wives gave me only daughters.’
‘We have gathered herbs and berries enough,’ Elaine said. Their baskets were filled and the day was drawing to its close. Enjoying the unseasonably warm sunshine and the freedom of being away from the castle, they had strayed a long way from her home in search of berries, herbs and nuts to fill the deep panniers that Bertrand had attached to the pack horse. He was riding his own stout horse while the ladies had ridden Elaine’s palfrey. ‘I think we should go home now.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Marion smiled at her. ‘Your uncle may grow worried and send out men to search for you if we do not return before nightfall.’
‘I would not have him think we had run away.’ Elaine thanked the groom as he put first her, and then her lady, up on the palfrey. Marion rode pillion behind her, as was the custom for a serving woman, though for some of the day she’d ridden with Bertrand so that the palfrey should not tire of carrying them both.
The little party turned in the direction that would lead them home. They had laughed, talked and danced in the clearing as they gathered their rich harvest and now they were tired, ready for the food and drink that awaited them at the castle. Marion had brought some bread, cheese and a flagon of ale, which they’d shared, as well as feasting on the ripe blackberries that grew in abundance in the woods. Yet even so their thoughts had turned to the supper that would await them and Bertrand apologised for his rumbling stomach.
‘Do not apologise,’ Elaine said and laughed. ‘I think we shall all eat well this night, for there is roasting pig as well as pigeon and capon.’
Her mouth watered at the thought and she realised that she, too, was hungry. It was at that moment that she caught the smell of burning and her nose wrinkled at the stench.
‘Someone has set a fire,’ she said, ‘but I think…’
The words died unspoken, for as they crested the rise they saw the pall of dark smoke hanging over the castle and smelled the awful stench.
‘There has been a fire,’ Marion cried. ‘The keep stands, but the smoke is thick. What can have happened?’
‘The castle has been attacked,’ Bertrand said and brought his horse and the pack pony to a standstill. ‘We must go no further, my lady. You should take shelter over there in the empty barn we passed this morning. I shall leave the horses with you and go on to see what has happened.’
‘You should not go alone,’ Marion said and then blushed at her forwardness. ‘What will happen to us if you should be killed?’
‘Do not fear for me, dear heart,’ Bertrand said and smiled at her. ‘I know how to remain hidden and survey the lie of the land. If my lady’s uncle was attacked in his castle, it must have been a strong force. This was not the work of a band of marauding bandits.’
‘No, I think you are right,’ Elaine said and shivered. ‘We shall do as you ask, Bertrand, but please take care. Marion is right. Without you we should be vulnerable and an easy prey for whoever has done this thing.’
‘You may trust me—I shall not let you down,’ Bertrand said. ‘Stay hidden until you hear my call.’ He made the sound of an owl hooting. ‘As soon as I know how things stand I shall return, my lady. Whatever happens now, I shall protect you both with my life.’
‘I know and I thank God that you were with us,’ Elaine said and shivered. ‘I do not know who has done this wicked thing—but I fear for my aunt and uncle and all our people.’
‘Stay hidden,’ Bertrand bade them and gave the reins of the horses to Elaine and Marion. ‘I shall discover all I can and return to you as quickly as I may.’
He set off at a run, heading towards the castle as the dark gathered about them and the only light was from the red glow that hung over what Elaine guessed to be some outbuildings. She thought that the great hall and the keep still stood, so whoever had attacked the castle had not intended to destroy it, but merely to capture it.
She could only hope that they had been as considerate of the people. The thought of her aunt and uncle lying dead in the castle caught at her heart and brought tears to her eyes. No matter that she’d resisted her uncle’s demands for her marriage, she cared for him and her aunt in her way and prayed that they still lived.
‘Come, my lady,’ Marion said. ‘We must do as Bertrand told us and take shelter. Whoever attacked the castle may pass this way and we should be easy prey.’
‘Yes.’ A little shudder went through her. Had she not gone foraging with Marion she might even now be dead or a prisoner of whoever had attacked her uncle’s castle.
Chapter Two
‘Tell me where your niece is, woman, or you will join your husband in an early grave.’ The Earl of Newark glared at the woman his men had dragged from her chamber and brought to him in the great hall. The remains of his supper lay strewn on the table, for he had ordered the food served even while the stain of his victim’s blood remained on his hands. ‘Tell me where she went and I shall spare you.’
‘If I knew I would tell you,’ the poor lady cried, wringing her hands in distress as she looked about and saw bodies still lying where they had fallen. Some of her husband’s people had tried to defend him and for that they had lost their lives. ‘Forgive me, sir. I lay sleeping when she left the castle and have no knowledge of her whereabouts.’
The earl drew back his mailed fist and struck her a blow that sent her to her knees. She stayed where he had put her, head bowed, weeping with fear and grief.
‘Stop that snivelling, woman,’ he growled. ‘If you are hiding her, it will be the worse for you.’
‘I beg you, lord, do not strike my lady again.’ One of the pages ran forward. ‘I saw the Lady Elaine go riding with her serving woman and the groom Bertrand earlier. They have not yet returned to the castle.’
The earl’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the young page. The boy was slight, but stood proudly before him. He would have felled him, but something in the youth’s manner stayed his hand.
‘You speak the truth?’
‘I swear it on my life, lord.’
Newark nodded. ‘Very well, I believe you. If she took nothing with her, she must return. We shall send out men to find her and bring her back.’ He frowned as the page reached the side of his weeping mistress. ‘Yes, take her away out of my sight.’
As the countess staggered to her feet, he held up his hand. ‘Leave the castle in the morning. You may take your clothes and chattels with you—but the silver and gold remains. If you try to cheat me, I shall kill you.’
The countess bowed her head, making no protest as other servants came forwards to lead her away. She could return to her brother and sister-in-law, who would give her a home. She would not linger until the morning, for she could not wait to leave this place—and she would not stay even to see her husband buried. She would grieve for him, but in her heart she knew that her grief would not last long for he had not been a loving husband. She must thank God that the earl had seen fit to spare her. Whether her brother would take revenge for what had happened remained to be seen.
Allowing her servants to lead her away, the countess wondered what had become of her niece. If she could warn her to stay away from the castle, she would do so, but, since she had no idea where the girl had gone she could do nothing. For all she knew Elaine had taken flight to her dower lands. Yet it seemed she had taken nothing with her so it was more likely that she had merely gone riding, as the page claimed. It was a mercy that she had not been in the castle when the earl attacked them, but no doubt he would have her one way or the other.
Weeping, the countess ordered the packing of her things, secretly hiding a few of her jewels about her person. The earl had too much on his mind to order her searched and she did not intend to leave with nothing. She would take what she dared and leave swiftly, before he changed his mind.
She thought of Elaine’s jewels, but decided it was not worth the risk of trying to steal them away. The earl had ordered a watch kept on the girl’s chambers and any attempt to spirit away her things would meet with a sharp punishment.
Elaine must just make the most of her freedom if she could and perhaps reach her dower lands, though now that her uncle was dead there was no one to protect her even there. The countess could do nothing to help her, for she must throw herself on her brother’s charity and hope that he would take her in.
‘Listen…’ Elaine touched Marion’s hand as she heard the owl hooting. ‘I am sure that is Bertrand. He has returned at last.’
‘I knew he would not let us down.’ Marion rose joyfully as the barn door opened and a shadowy figure entered. ‘Bertrand, is that you?’
‘Yes, dear heart,’ Bertrand said and moved to catch her in his arms, holding her close for a moment before turning to Elaine. ‘Ill news, my lady. The Earl of Newark took the castle by a trick for he came under the guise of friendship. Your uncle was foully slain and your aunt mistreated before being told to leave the castle.’
‘My uncle dead?’ Elaine gasped. her hand flew to her mouth—despite her recent argument with him, she honoured both him and her aunt. He was her father’s brother and, though stern, she knew that he cared what became of her. ‘And my aunt?’
‘Told to leave with her goods and chattels, but not the silver or jewels.’
‘Newark intends to have it all. Why could my uncle not see him for the villain he is?’ Elaine asked, a little sob in her voice. ‘Had I wed him he would not have rested until my uncle was in his grave. We dare not return to the castle. Somehow we must try to reach my dower lands—but I have no money with me. We have nothing but the clothes we wear and the food we gathered.’
‘We have a little more,’ Bertrand said. ‘Your chamber was guarded, my lady. I fear I was able to take nothing of yours, but it was easy to enter Marion’s chamber. I have brought some clothing, which you may share, also some silver and pewter that I managed to snatch. I have a little coin of my own and a few of my own things.’
‘Yes, Marion’s clothing will fit me and it may be best if I change before we begin our journey. If I pass as your sister and Marion your wife, we may escape detection and be safer.’
‘Yes, my lady, that is true,’ Bertrand agreed. ‘I am sorry I could not bring your jewels.’
‘I wear the silver cross and chain my father gave me beneath my gown always,’ Elaine said and smiled. ‘Nothing else matters but our lives. If we can reach my dower lands, we can recruit more men to defend us—though I fear the earl will try to stop us before we reach safety.’
‘Once he realises that you do not intend to return to the castle he is sure to scour the countryside for us,’ Bertrand said. ‘Yet if his men ignore a yeoman and his wife and sister they may pass by without noticing us.’
‘I shall be careful to cover my head and face if we are questioned.’ Elaine looked at him gravely. ‘You know that you both risk much by accompanying me. If the earl captures us, you may suffer for helping me to escape.’
‘I would never desert you,’ Marion declared instantly. ‘We love you, my lady.’
‘Yes, I know it and I thank you. I pray that we shall reach my dower lands safely. Once there we can at least try to defend ourselves.’
‘At least you were not in the castle when he took it,’ Bertrand said. ‘We have the advantage for he will not know where to look. I know you must both be tired, but we ought to leave soon. If we ride through the night, we may get ahead of them.’
‘Will the earl not send men to your dower lands?’ Marion asked.
‘We must try to get there first,’ Bertrand said grimly. ‘Yet we should not go directly south, as he would expect. We shall ride to the east and then double back and that way hope to avoid his patrols. If we are fortunate, he will not send men out until the morning and by then we shall be well ahead of them.’
‘But our horses have carried us all day…’
‘I have brought fresh ones,’ Bertrand said. ‘We should turn your palfrey loose, my lady. If it returns to the castle seeking its stable, the earl’s men may waste time searching for you.’
‘They might think I was thrown.’ Elaine smiled. ‘You have done well, Bertrand. I think we should ride now and continue through the night. We may rest for a little time when we have put some leagues between the castle and us.’
‘You are weary, my friend,’ the dark-skinned servant watched as his master dismounted. ‘Allow me to see to the horses this night. You were sick for so long and you have not yet recovered your strength.’
‘I should have died had it not been for you,’ the knight replied and smiled. In the moonlight his face might have looked handsome to a casual observer, for the deep red welt that marred half of it was hardly noticeable because of his hood of mail. The scar ran from the corner of his left eye to his chin and was still painful to the touch even after many months of healing herbs and lotions applied by the faithful Janvier. ‘Had you and your family not taken me in that day…’
Janvier smiled, his teeth gleaming white against the dusk of his skin. ‘You forget that you saved mine and my whole family when the Christian knights rampaged after Saladin’s men wreaked vengeance on them for the murder of the Moslem prisoners.’
‘Do not remind me of our shame,’ the knight replied wearily. ‘I grow better every day, Janvier, but I will admit that I am tired this night. If we rest for a few hours in the morning, I shall feel much better.’
‘You should go home to your family, my lord.’
‘I have duties to perform before I may rest,’ Zander replied. ‘Tom’s body lies in a place of peace, but his family knows naught of what happened to him. First I must speak with his family, tell them he died bravely and was buried with honour—and then I must seek out the lady of whom I told you.’
‘You will ask her to wed you?’
‘No, not yet, for I must also seek revenge for my father, but if she has not married I shall pledge myself to her, as her protector and her servant—if she wishes it.’
Zander touched the red welt on his cheek. The pain was less now than it had been when it was first inflicted. He’d lain for weeks in a fever and afterwards he’d been too ill to remember who or where he was. It was Janvier who had carried him back to his home and helped to care for him as he raved and cried out in his agony, Janvier who had insisted on accompanying him to England, when he recovered enough to travel.
‘Do you think any woman would wish to marry me now?’ he asked, a touch of bitterness in his voice. ‘Even if she remains unwed, I cannot ask such a sacrifice of her.’
‘If she loves you, it will be no sacrifice. You should at least ask her, my lord. If she has waited all these years, it is your duty to offer her the chance to be your wife.’
‘Perhaps…’ A sigh was on his lips. ‘I dare say she forgot me long ago. She was beautiful, Janvier. Why should she wait for me?’ He pushed the grief from his mind. ‘We must rest now, my friend, for we have a long way to travel yet.’
‘You push yourself too hard.’
‘No, I am better now, merely unused to riding for long periods. If I do not make an effort, I shall never recover my strength. A man who cannot defend himself has no place in this world of ours, Janvier. I went to the wars because I thought our cause was just—and I hoped to win honours and wealth. I won both—but what profit a man if he gain the whole world, but lose his faith and his belief in his fellow man?’
‘You are the most honourable knight I know,’ Janvier said and grinned.
‘And you the best friend a man ever had. I do not know what lies ahead—but I shall make a life for us both here somewhere in this land or another if I prove unwelcome here.’
‘Inshallah,’ Janvier genuflected. ‘What Allah wills shall be. Whether it be your Christian god or mine, we are in His hands.’
‘Yes, it is so, though sometimes I wonder if God is but a comforting myth we humans invented for our own purposes.’
‘You are weary, my lord. Rest and eat. As your strength returns so will your faith.’
‘If I knew how to pray, I would pray you were right.’
Zander inclined his head and sat down on the blanket his servant had placed for him beneath a sheltering oak. The weather was mild enough, but after the heat of foreign lands he was shivering. He hugged his cloak about him and hoped that it was not a return of the fever that had plagued him for so many months.
He must avenge his father’s death. The knight who had had him killed for daring to remonstrate at the way he had caught and beaten a runaway servant, raping the man’s wife and daughter, was a beast who deserved only death. Zander would seek revenge for his father—and for the others the Earl of Newark had brutalised and murdered.
Yet all he truly longed for with his body and his heart was to seek out Elaine and offer her his service. Once he’d hoped for so much more, but now his hopes were ruined—what woman could love a man such as he?
Chapter Three
Hidden by the thickness of the trees and the undergrowth in which they had taken refuge at the sound of horns and approaching horses, Elaine held Marion’s hand. Bertrand had taken the horses on a little, fearing that they might snicker and betray the presence of the two women.
The sound of horses, jingling harness and voices grew louder. The Earl of Newark’s men had gathered in the clearing and were looking for signs.
‘Three horses went this way, my lord,’ one of them cried. ‘See where the undergrowth is flattened. ‘They must have gone this way.’
‘We cannot be far behind now,’ Stronmar said. ‘If we ride hard, we shall find them within the hour. We must find her, for the earl is anxious she should become his bride.’
Marion’s hand was trembling. Elaine held it fast, putting a finger to her lips as they heard the sound of the horses riding away.
‘That man,’ Elaine whispered. ‘I know him. It is rumoured that he is Newark’s son, born of a peasant woman—and he is even more evil than his father.’
‘If they catch Bertrand, they will kill him…’ Marion looked at her fearfully.
‘You must not doubt him. He has kept us safe for two days now.’ Elaine’s heart was racing but she raised her head proudly. ‘Come, we must do as Bertrand told us and make our way across the river. We shall meet back at the mill he spoke of earlier and then it is but another day or so to my dower lands.’
‘Supposing the earl has sent men to your home?’
‘We must meet that possibility when we come to it,’ Elaine said. ‘It seems that they wasted some time in looking for me when my palfrey returned. Bertrand has taken them on a detour and he will return with just two horses, sending the other careering off by itself. Hopefully, the earl’s men will follow it for long enough to get us safe to Sweetbriars.’
‘Even if we reach your home the earl may attack.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Elaine’s face was pale but determined. ‘I can only pray—’ She broke off as they heard the sound of voices. She tensed, listening hard. Newark’s men or someone else?
‘I think there are only a few.’ Marion parted the bushes carefully and looked. ‘Two men ride this way, my lady—a knight, I think, and a servant. The servant’s skin is dark.’
‘Let me see…’ Elaine peered through the bushes and then drew back. ‘The knight’s head and much of his face is covered by his chainmail, but the servant wears strange clothes—the clothes of a Saracen, I think.’
‘Then we must try to avoid them,’ Marion said. ‘They may be some of the Earl’s men.’
Elaine was about to agree, when she saw the servant look at his master anxiously and the knight suddenly slipped unconscious from the saddle.
‘The knight is ill,’ Elaine cried and, before her companion could stop her, she had left the safety of the trees and was running towards them. The servant had dismounted and was securing the horses to a branch, but Elaine was on her knees and bending over the knight in concern. ‘Sir Knight, I think you are ill,’ she said and touched his gloved hand. His eyes were closed, but he moaned faintly and opened them and she felt an odd tingle down her spine. His eyes seemed familiar, but his skin was almost as dark as his servant’s and she could not have seen him before.
‘My master has been very ill,’ the servant said and bent over him, lifting him in his arms as he came to his senses. ‘I am able to care for him. Do not disturb yourself, lady.’
‘I would help you if I can,’ Elaine said. ‘I have some skill with herbs and could make you a tisane to restore his strength.’
‘Give me the herbs and leave us,’ the servant said. ‘My master would not wish to trouble you.’