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‘Come, lady, mount your horse and let me take you to my lord. He cannot be far behind us now. Once you have his escort you will be safe—we should give our lives to protect you.’
Elaine hesitated. Her instinct had been to trust the knight, but Marion had warned her to hide her identity from him. Now that she had confessed part of her story, she would tell the knight the whole when they reached him.
Hearing some voices back the way she had come, Elaine lost no time in mounting her horse and following Janvier back through the trees. For a while it seemed as though the voices were following them, but then Janvier pulled her along a narrow track that led close to a dangerous ravine. Her nerves jangling, she allowed him to lead her horse, closing her eyes and refusing to look down.
‘We are safe now, lady. I saw this track earlier, but most would not notice it. I think we can rest now for a little.’
‘Thank you.’ Elaine allowed him to help her down. she sank onto the blanket he placed for her and leaned back against a tree. Tears were very close, but she refused to shed them, though she could not help thinking of Marion and Bertrand.
‘Your friends may have managed to give them the slip. It is clear that the earl split his forces to follow you—perhaps this will save them.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Elaine said and took the bread and cheese he offered, breaking small pieces to eat. ‘You, too, could have died if they caught us.’
‘There were no more than three. I am a match for them,’ Janvier said. ‘I thought it best to lead you to safety if I could, but had it been necessary I should have given my life to save you.’
‘Why?’ Elaine looked at him in wonder. ‘You do not know me—why would you risk so much for me?’
Janvier shook his head. ‘It is my lord who would keep you safe. He is the most honourable knight in Christendom—and he would not see any woman fall prey to the man who pursues you.’
‘You have heard of the Earl of Newark?’
‘Yes—but I shall say no more. You must learn what else you need to from my lord.’
Elaine nodded. ‘I am ready to go on, sir. I would meet with your lord before nightfall if ’tis possible.’
‘Come then, lady,’ Janvier said. ‘For I think he is close behind us.’
Chapter Four
‘I am glad to be of service to you,’ Sir Roderick said as he clasped Zander’s hands. ‘I honour you for all you have suffered in the Lord’s cause, and my men will serve you faithfully for as long as you need them.’
‘When I secure my father’s keep I shall employ more and send them back to you.’
A shadow passed across his uncle’s face. ‘I fear there is little there to reclaim, Zander. The lands were small, as you know, for your father fell into debt and forfeited some acres. His keep is nought but a mouldering ruin.’
‘Then I shall restore it and build a fine manor house,’ Zander said. ‘I have won both honours and a fortune, Uncle. I shall restore the name of my father and bring his lands back into good heart so that there is food and a place to live for those that are still loyal.’
‘Then go with my blessing and may the peace of God be upon you, Nephew.’
‘My soul can never be at peace until I avenge my father,’ Zander replied, but he smiled and clasped his uncle’s hand. ‘I thank you for your help and now I must go, for I fear my lady is in great danger.’
He mounted his horse, signalled to the men his uncle had assigned to him, and set off at a canter from the moated manor house. It was a secure stronghold and his uncle was a powerful man who employed more than one hundred men-at-arms. The horses’ hooves clattered across the wooden bridge, eleven men in all—and every one a good fighting soldier.
Zander hoped that soon he would recover his strength. He had taken two measures of the cure brewed from the herbs Elaine had given him and was feeling a little less exhausted. The dizziness that had plagued him for weeks seemed to have gone. He smiled as he bent forwards over his horse. He would not faint and fall again and they must hurry—if they delayed, it might be too late.
Elaine’s heart caught with apprehension as they saw a band of men galloping down the road towards them. It looked a larger party this time and she feared that the Earl of Newark had sent more men to look for them. Here there were no woods to hide them and to flee back the way they had come would be useless.
‘If they wish to take me, you must allow it,’ she said to Janvier. ‘I do not wish you to sacrifice your life for me. The Earl’s men will not harm me; he needs me alive so that he can claim my lands without fear of reprimand or retribution.’
Janvier smiled as the horsemen came closer. ‘Fear not, lady. ’Tis but my lord and the men who serve him.’
‘Oh…’ For some reason Elaine’s heart beat even faster and her stomach twisted with nerves. There was something about the knight she could not place and yet instinctively she had trusted him. ‘I must thank God for his arrival.’
The party of some ten men or more came to a halt. The knight lifted his hand in greeting. ‘Well met, lady,’ he said. ‘Where are your companions?’
Was she wise to trust this unknown knight? She might be going from the heat of the cooking pot to the fire.
The knight dismounted and came to help her down. His men were also dismounting, to rest and eat, for they had ridden hard. He came to Elaine and held out his arms to assist her to dismount. She slid down into them and for a moment he held her. It was strange how comfortable and right it seemed, but she did not know this man and after a moment to catch her breath she moved away from him.
‘We must talk, lady,’ he said and took off his cloak, spreading it beneath the branches of a sturdy oak for her to sit. She declined and remained standing. ‘You should know that I mean you no harm and will help you in whatever way I can—but you must tell me where you go and who pursues you.’
‘I told your servant when he found me this morning,’ Elaine said. ‘A man who wishes to force me into marriage is pursuing me. He invaded my uncle’s castle and killed him, before sending my aunt penniless from her home. Marion and Bertrand drew the earl’s men off earlier this morning. Bertrand told me to hide in the woods—but then your servant came. The earl’s men must have split, because some came after us, but Janvier led me to safety. I am grateful for your service, sir, and would reward you.’ She took a deep breath, then, ‘I am Lady Elaine Howarth and my only hope is to reach my dower lands.’
‘Yes, it is much as I thought,’ the knight said. ‘Let us not speak of reward, lady. I am a true knight and it is my duty to protect any in need—particularly a lady of gentle birth.’
‘Then I can only thank you—and offer my help if ever I can assist you.’
‘Will you tell me the name of the rogue that plans such evil?’
‘He is the Earl of Newark and ruthless,’ she said, her eyes suddenly blazing with anger. ‘I will never marry him. I would rather die.’
‘Then he would merely take your lands for himself,’ the knight said and something made her look into his eyes. They were grey and as cold as ice, and his mouth had become thin and hard.
‘What do you know of him?’ she asked, her pulses racing. Her heart was thudding now and she was certain that she should know this man. Her instincts could not be wrong. She’d met this man before, though she knew not when or how. ‘Who are you, Sir Knight?’
‘Newark tricked and murdered my father,’ he said harshly. For a moment he turned away from her. His shoulders straightened and then he reached up to pull back the hood of chainmail, turning to face her. ‘Do you not know me, Elaine? I knew you at once, though you have hidden your hair and stained your face.’
She stared at him, her eyes drawn to the livid scar that ran the length of his face, from the corner of his left eye to his chin. It had puckered and the whole side of his face was red and inflamed. For a moment she did not recognise this man with black hair that was streaked with grey, but then, all at once, she knew. It was he, though the years and the hot sun of the Holy Land had wreaked havoc with his looks.
‘Zander…?’ She moved towards him hesitantly. He looked so different, sterner and older—much older than his years—and the scar was ugly, making her heart contract with pain. The beautiful youth who had declared his love before he left her had gone and in his place was a man she did not know. ‘Is it truly you?’
‘Yes, Elaine,’ he said. ‘It is I—older and battle-scarred, as you see—but I am Zander, lord of the lands my father bequeathed to me and I bear his name. I am Sir Zander de Bricasse and lord of Penbury.’
‘Oh, my love, you have been sorely hurt,’ Elaine said. Her instinct was to go to him and kiss him, but something held her back. He was Zander, the man she loved, and yet he was not the same. There was a distance about him, as if he had placed a barrier between them and she was not sure what to do. ‘I am so sorry…’
‘Save your tears for those who need them,’ he said in a harsh tone. ‘I do not wish for pity, Elaine. I should not have revealed myself had it not been that you must trust me if I am to deliver you safely to your home.’
‘Zander…’ Her lips trembled. ‘It was not pity, but love that made me speak thus. I have always loved you.’
‘You loved the man I was—not the man I am now,’ he said, voice gruff with emotion. ‘Give me no promises, lady. I do not ask them of you. I release you from the vow you made those many years gone.’
‘I do not wish to be released,’ Elaine said, but her voice was little more than a whisper, and in truth she was not sure what she felt. The scar was terrible and disfigured one half of his face, but she knew of unguents and cures that would help it, easing the pain and infection so that it would no longer be so inflamed. Nothing could make his beloved face as it had once been, but, if he would let her, she could ease the pain he must be feeling and heal the wound so the scar would not be so livid. It was not so much his appearance, but his manner, the distance between them, that made her hesitant. ‘If you wish me for your wife, I should be honoured, sir.’
A nerve twitched in his throat, his eyes narrowing as they dwelt on her face. ‘It is too soon to speak of these things, lady. For the moment I must see you safe to your home—and then I must avenge my father. I am not sure whether you knew that Newark was his enemy. My father slighted him once in some way, defied him and would not bend the knee to such an evil man. Newark never forgot or forgave him. He had him set upon by knaves and beaten to death, as if he were less than the lowest churl. I shall seek him out as soon as I am ready and avenge my father’s death like a knight.’
‘He is so rich and powerful,’ Elaine said fearfully. ‘You will need more men before you can challenge the earl.’
‘This I know. These men are loyal to my uncle and will be loyal to me for as long as I need them, but I shall gather a powerful army and I will bring Newark to his knees somehow.’
Elaine’s heart ached for his pain, physical and mental, but she could not take him in her arms for she felt he would reject her.
‘Then I wish you luck, sir,’ she said.
He nodded and replaced the hood of mail, hiding most of his face. Now she saw why it had been so difficult to recognise him, though her mind had sensed something. He looked so much older, hardened by battle and suffering. Elaine longed to reach him, to tell him that her love was strong enough to survive all that had happened, but what right did she have to claim his love? The Zander who had gone to fight in the Holy wars had loved her, but how could she know what was in this man’s heart? In the years between he might have loved another. She might be merely a distant memory. How could she claim his love and loyalty if he did not wish to give them?
‘We should leave if we are to reach your dower lands before Newark finds us,’ Zander said. ‘I can protect you from much—but not if we are too heavily outnumbered, so we shall move swiftly and travel through the night.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘Are you able to ride on alone, or shall I take you up with me?’
‘I can ride alone, but you…’ Her words were banished, for to speak of his weakness the previous day might anger or humiliate him.
‘Your herbs have helped me, Elaine. Perhaps you would brew more for me this night?’
‘Yes, my lord. I shall be happy to do anything I can to repay you. I could also help the pain in your cheek—if you would let me?’
‘How do you know it pains me?’
‘Because I can see that the poison has gathered beneath the skin. It needs to be opened and cleansed, the pus removed and then unguents applied to heal the flesh beneath.’
‘Had you seen the wound Janvier tended you would not have thought this so terrible,’ he said and smiled slightly. ‘The pain I bear now is nothing to that I have suffered.’
‘Yet it could be eased, sir.’ Elaine looked at him proudly. She raised her head, gazing into his eyes. If he thought her still a child, he was wrong. ‘I have spent the years you were away learning the skills a chatelaine needs to keep her people well and happy. I have learned much of herbs and healing.’
‘Your mother was a healer, though she died too young—what happened to your father, Elaine?’
‘My father died but a few months since. He had a wasting sickness that none could heal. My cures eased his suffering, but I could not save him—only God could have done that.’
‘Is there a God?’ Zander asked, a twist of bitterness about his mouth. ‘Once I took up the Cross for His sake—but now I question He exists. Only a cruel god would allow the suffering that I have seen, not just on the field of battle—but innocents…children…’
Elaine stared at him. Her faith was strong and it hurt her to hear such words on his lips. ‘It is not God who makes us suffer, but the evil that is in the world and in us. God forgives us no matter what we do.’
‘Such blind faith,’ Zander said. ‘I wish that I could believe as you do, but I cannot—my faith died with an innocent boy and so many others. So much blood stained the earth of the land we call Holy.’
‘I cannot understand what makes you say these words,’ Elaine told him, ‘but I know that you have seen and felt too much. God will forgive you and take you back into His love, Zander. One day He will give you his peace.’
‘When I am dead, perhaps?’ Something flickered in his eyes. ‘Now you see why I am not fit to be your husband, Elaine. Yet I vow to protect you with my life, unworthy as it is.’
Her throat was tight with tears. She did not know what to say to this man. He was bitter and angry, disillusioned with all that had made him the man of ideals and faith she had loved. In truth, she was not sure that she would wish to wed him now.
Keeping her emotions hid as best she could, Elaine allowed him to help her mount her horse. His words had hurt her, but she would not let him see her weep. He was a stranger to her and only time would tell if there was anything left inside him of the man she’d loved.
They rode far and hard. Elaine was weary long before they stopped. When at last they came to a house that it seemed was known to Zander, she almost collapsed into his arms dismounting. He saw it at once and carried her into the house, the door of which opened, as if they expected him.
‘Zander, my friend,’ a tall blond knight said as he came to greet them. ‘Welcome to my home. When I learned that you still lived my heart was gladdened. Come in, friends. My house is yours while you need it.’
‘My lady needs a bed,’ Zander said. ‘She is in danger, Philip, and I have vowed to protect her—for that I may need your help. When she reaches her dower lands it may be that Newark’s men are before us. I do not have the force to make him yield, but he would yield to you.’
‘He will yield or I’ll have him arrested and thrown in gaol. I am the King’s Marshal in these parts and I have forbidden the barons to quarrel amongst themselves. Any that defy my decree shall be outlawed, forced to seek their bread in another land.’
‘Then I can rely on you to protect her,’ Zander said. ‘But where may she rest this night?’
‘Anne will take her to her own chamber,’ Lord Philip Henry of Stornway said. ‘My sister remains unwed, for she cannot find a man that pleases her and, fool that I am, I shall not force her.’
A tall woman came forwards. She was thin, but not uncomely, her long dark hair plaited and hanging down her back. Around her brow she wore a thin band of silver, to which a fine veil was attached. They were not alike—they had been born of different mothers, both of whom had died soon after giving birth.
‘Come this way, sir,’ she invited. ‘I shall care of her this night.’
‘She is but exhausted,’ Zander said. ‘I pushed her too hard, but I feared Newark still hunted for her.’
‘He is not a good man,’ Anne Stornway said, a thin smile on her lips. ‘He asked for my hand when I was but thirteen, but my uncle and brother sent him away. I am five and twenty now and past the age of marriage, but if the earl asked me a thousand times I would not take him.’
Zander nodded grimly, carrying Elaine into the comfortable chamber that Anne led them to. The tester bed was hung with silk damask and the covers were fine Frankish velvet, woven in Rheims. Her pillows were of linen cases stuffed with goose feathers; it was the finest linen to be found in all Christendom, as were the sheets she pulled back so that he could place his precious burden down. For a moment he stood looking at Elaine as her eyelids fluttered and she cried out his name.
‘You are betrothed?’ Anne asked and Elaine heard their voices as from a distance.
‘We were once betrothed,’ Zander said and threw back his hood. ‘How can I ask a gentle lady to look at this every day of her life?’
‘If she loved you, she would seek only to ease your pain. I have unguents that would ease you. I shall give you some. Your servant may treat you, for the wound is healing, but needs something to ease it. I should be glad to offer you my cure, Sir Knight.’
‘You are kind, lady,’ Zander said. ‘I have lived with the pain for months. I can bear it—at least until I have time to rest.’
Anne bowed her head and turned away. Unlike Elaine, she knew better than to argue with a man of his ilk; she had learned as a young girl that it was better to appease than quarrel, though he hadn’t noticed there was a tiny flame of anger in her eyes.
Elaine moved her head on the pillows and her eyelids flickered. Zander looked at her and moved away from the bed.
‘I shall leave you to tend her,’ he said to Anne, walked away and left, closing the door behind him.
Anne gazed after him a moment and then shook her head. Men were such fools. There was no understanding them. And this one roused such feelings in her that she had difficulty maintaining her air of calm, but she must—she must for otherwise she would betray herself.
She moved back to the bed just as Elaine started up in fear. Again she called Zander’s name and looked about her, tears on her cheeks.
‘I dreamed he came to me…’ she said. ‘I dreamed he came back—but he was not the same.’
Anne sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out to touch the younger girl’s face. Anne could feel only pity for this young woman.
‘Hush, lady. Lord Zander is not far away. He is anxious for your safety—but he is a man. They do not understand us or our needs. No man is worth a woman’s tears, believe me.’
Elaine blinked the tears away. She pushed herself up against the pillows, looking at her curiously, for there had been bitterness in her voice. ‘Who are you, lady? I have not seen you before.’
‘I am sister to Philip, Lord of Stornway. In King Richard’s absence he is Marshal here and tries to keep the peace between the warring barons, but ’tis a thankless task. Most are too stubborn and too proud. My brother is sorely troubled by their lawless behaviour. I wish that the King would return and bring some order to this land.’
‘You speak truly,’ Elaine said and this time the tears would not be stopped. ‘The Earl of Newark gained my uncle’s trust and then tricked him. He took all that was my uncle’s—and would have had me, too, had I not run away.’
Anne listened to her tale to the end and then nodded. ‘So Lord Zander came to your rescue, but it hurts you because he is not as he was?’ Elaine nodded, noticing the odd look in Anne’s eyes. ‘He has suffered things you could not even imagine, lady. My brother has spoken to returning knights before this. He has told me some of what he heard, but some he hid from me—though I guessed what he would not say. Lord Zander needs time to recover, to heal inside as well as out. One day he will be himself again. He should allow me to help him cure the wound to his cheek, but he is too proud.’
‘I fear that you are right and I hope that he will find peace one day.’
‘Only God can heal what ails him. My brother finds comfort in the Good Lord and so must we all.’ Anne crossed herself piously, but her eyes avoided Elaine’s, as though she would hide her innermost thoughts.
‘Amen to that,’ Elaine said. ‘My faith never wavered. I always believed that God would bring him back to me—but now…’
