Knights of Honor Books 1-10: A Medieval Romance Series Bundle

by Alexa Aston

  “Go, Nan. Now,” he commanded hoarsely as his eyes darkened in desire.

  Her heart pounded rapidly as she continued to stare at him. The air between them crackled with want and need. Nan was afraid what might happen between them would go beyond a kiss if she stayed. She jumped from the bed as if scalded and hurried away back to the solar. Climbing into the now cooled bed, her body burned.

  Why couldn’t he love her? Why couldn’t Tristan be the one for her?

  Nan pounded her hands into the pillow as hot tears fell.

  Chapter 14

  The contest was slated to begin an hour after the soldiers had broken their fast. Nan had thought to start it immediately but Diggin came to her on behalf of the other men.

  “My lady, we wish to get in a few practice rounds before competition begins.”

  Nan looked to Tristan. “I defer to you, my lord.”

  “You may have an hour. No more,” he said.

  “Thank you, my lord.” Diggin bowed and trotted off to spread the news.

  Tristan looked around at the activity in the butts. “They certainly seem eager.”

  “Everyone enjoys competing when they have skills to show. I think you need to award some type of prize for the winner.”

  “Such as?”

  “Whatever you wish. It could be something small, such as your cook making a special sweetmeat.” Nan frowned. “Thinking about that, ’twould be more of a punishment.”

  “You do not like the food at Leventhorpe?” he asked, his brows raising.

  “Nay,” she said, unable to lie as she laughed.

  “What else would you propose?”

  She thought a moment. “The winner could be excused from sentry duty for a week. That would cost you nothing. Or you could award a few shillings. Even a crown if you’re feeling particularly generous. Something to spur them on.”

  Gillian had joined them. “I could make the winner a new tunic,” she suggested. “I am handy with my needle.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” Nan said. “Don’t you think so, Tristan?” She nudged him with her elbow, wanting him to recognize his sister’s contribution.

  “Aye, that would be most appreciated, Gillian,” he said.

  His sister gave him a sweet smile. “Only if you want me to.”

  Nan glared at him and Tristan finally seemed to understand how he should respond. “Then that will be our grand prize for the winner of the bow and arrow competition. The one who wins the crossbow contest will be given a crown.”

  “Thank you, Tristan!” Joy filled Gillian’s face. “I am happy to be a part of today. I will go look now at what materials I have so I can tell the winner what color his new tunic will be.”

  After she left, Nan said, “You have made her happy by including her. You should do that more often. Seeing the guilty look on your face, I hope that you will take my advice to heart.”

  “No one speaks their mind to me as you do, Nan.”

  She shrugged. “What are friends for?” she asked casually.

  “Is that what we are—friends?” His eyes bore into hers.

  Nan thought back to last night in his bedchamber. How he’d warned her to leave.

  And how much she had wanted to stay.

  “I would hope we are, my lord.”

  Drew interrupted them, asking Nan about the targets to be used. She showed him what she wanted done but the entire time they spoke, she sensed Tristan’s eyes burning into her back. She returned to his side and they continued watching the men as they warmed up for the competition.

  Finally, she said, “I often wear a bracer on the inside forearm of my bow arm. The bowstring can smack hard when released. The bracer helps guard against bruising.”

  “I am familiar with the practice,” Tristan replied.

  “It would be a good gesture if you gifted each of your soldiers with a bracer. Most are carved from leather and they can be decorated to show the lord that archer serves. You could use the Therolde family colors or crest.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “’Tis an excellent idea, Nan. Thank you. I will see about it soon.”

  “While you are thinking about that, I have another suggestion.”

  A crooked smile played about his lips. “Now what?”

  “Barnaby has expressed a strong interest in becoming your bowyer and fletcher. He is a competent archer and would like to make all of the bows and arrows for Leventhorpe instead of you purchasing them from others. He’s spent several hours quizzing me about the process.”

  “He has? I don’t think I’ve heard Barnaby say more than three words together since he came to Leventhorpe.” Tristan whistled shrilly and the arrows ceased flying. “Barnaby. Come here.”

  The young soldier hurried over as everyone watched.

  “Continue,” Tristan said, and the action started once more.

  “Aye, my lord?” asked Barnaby, an inquisitive look on his face.

  “Lady Nan says you have pestered her about bows and arrows. So tell me, what have you learned from her and why would you wish to make them for Leventhorpe?”

  Barnaby grinned. “It starts in the wood, my lord. Yew is the best to use, though ash and elm can work, too. A bowyer must create a pair of curved elastic limbs and join them with a riser. The bowstring connects those limbs. ’Tis best to use hemp, according to Lady Nan, because it’s the strongest. If in a pinch, animal guts and sinew also work well.” He thought a moment. “Oh, and the strings need to be soaked. In glue. That protects them from moisture.”

  Barnaby went on to explain how the bowstrings had nocking points marked along them, which allowed archers to mark where their arrow should be fitted to the bowstring before shooting. He happily explained how to fletch an arrow and the benefits of using flint or bone as the arrowhead over horn and metal.

  Finally, he wound down. “I have always been good with my hands, my lord. I could easily be both bowyer and fletcher for you.”

  “You seemed to have learned a remarkable amount in a short time, Barnaby.”

  The soldier blushed. “Lady Nan is an excellent tutor.”

  “That she is,” Tristan agreed. “I will consider your request.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Barnaby returned to his companions, who flocked around him to see what Tristan had wanted from him.

  “If you would allow it, Barnaby could come to Kinwick. We have both a bowyer and fletcher. They would be happy to teach him what they know. It wouldn’t take long. As you can tell, he’s interested and passionate about the subject.”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “Good. I will write Father about him. In fact, when I leave Leventhorpe, Barnaby can take my missive directly to Kinwick. That way Mother and Father will know I have gone to Ancel and Barnaby can stay for a week and learn what he needs to know.”

  Tristan scowled. Nan thought he did so because he might actually miss her. They stood so close, almost touching. She could smell the scent of leather and horse on him and something else that was uniquely him. She wished she could shake some sense into this man but having three stubborn brothers, Nan knew that would be impossible. Whatever lay between them was something Tristan would not act upon. She decided that he understood what she wanted was love. Since he could never offer her that, he knew enough to stay away from her.

  Bloody fool.

  This time she was the one who whistled. The shrill sound pierced the air and brought the motion in the butts to a halt.

  “We will start in the next few minutes. All practice ceases now.” Nan signaled for David and Drew to begin setting up the targets as they had discussed.

  “I have never heard a louder whistle,” Tristan marveled. “From a man or a woman.”

  “Hal taught me how to whistle. He told me it was a skill which would come in handy. Father says my whistle is so loud that I could bring all the soldiers and horses on a battlefield to a halt.”

  “That was quite extraordinary, my lady,” a voice nearby said.
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  Nan turned and saw Gillian approaching, a stranger next to her. He looked to be just under two score, with dark brown hair and a thin, cruel mouth. He wasn’t tall and not very broad but nevertheless he somehow exuded an aura of power. She sensed Tristan stiffen beside her.

  “Thank you,” she said coolly. “And you are?”

  He laughed. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Lord Petyr Medford. The Baron of Wycliffe. I am a neighbor of Lord Tristan’s.” He faced Tristan. “Good morn to you, my lord.”

  Nan immediately recognized the name. This was the nobleman who traded in illegally gotten goods, including horses. The men who had murdered Tristan’s knights and tried to steal his horses had admitted as much. Yet no proof existed that they had been deliberately sent by Lord Petyr, only that he might have purchased the stolen animals from them had they made their way to his doorstep.

  “Greetings, my lord,” Tristan said, the cold of winter evident in his words. “What brings you to Thorpe Castle? We so rarely see you.”

  “I came because I’ve heard tale of a woman who can shoot an arrow better than a man.” He smiled at Nan, his teeth even and white. “If I’m not mistaken, that might be you, my lady. An expert archer. And whistler.”

  Nan kept her head though she wanted to lash out at this stranger. “I know a thing or two about archery. I am Lady Nan de Montfort.” She offered him her hand but did not curtsey.

  Lord Petyr took it and kissed the leather glove she wore. “Might your father be Lord Geoffrey? And your mother Lady Merryn?”

  “They are.”

  “I have met them at court. Lovely people.”

  “Thank you.”

  The nobleman glanced around. “It looks as if you’re about to hold a competition.” He looked back at Nan. “Are you entering, my lady? I would be delighted to see you in action with your bow.”

  “Nay. This is a contest for the men of Leventhorpe,” Tristan said. “To see what they have learned from the lady. She will judge the contest.”

  Lord Petyr studied her. “So the rumors are true. You truly are an archer.” He gave her an appreciative smile. “Mayhap once the winner has been announced you might be kind enough to give me a private demonstration of your skills. I would certainly be interested to see you in action with your bow. Once your stay is completed at Leventhorpe, you might consider coming to teach my men as you have Lord Tristan’s.”

  Nan was happy to say, “I am sorry, my lord, but I have committed to go to the Earl of Mauntell’s estate soon. My brother is anxious for me to tutor his men—not yours.” She gave him an unapologetic smile.

  “We’re ready, my lady,” called Drew.

  Relief filled Nan. “Excuse me.” She moved away from the nobleman. For some reason, he made her flesh feel as if ants crawled upon it.

  She addressed the group of men, having come to know each of them by name over the past week.

  “You have labored long over the last several days. Many of you possess skills you never knew you had. Both contests today will name winners.” Nan motioned to Tristan. “My lord, if you would care to share the rewards with your men?”

  Tristan stepped forward. “Originally, Lady Nan suggested the winners be provided with a special sweetmeat from Cook. Then she thought better of it since she wanted you to at least try to win.”

  The soldiers chuckled. Nan was pleased with Tristan’s demeanor. Though she knew he took his responsibilities seriously, her father had taught her that showing yourself to be human was a way to bond with others.

  “Instead, the victor in the crossbow will claim a crown and a meal I’ll purchase for him at the village tavern in North Colnbourne. The bow and arrow winner will receive a crown and a new tunic sewn by Lady Gillian.” Tristan looked to his sister and gave her an encouraging smile.

  She held up a bolt of dark material. “I will sew a tunic from this hunter green wool for our winner.” She paused. “Unless it is Morys. In that case, my brother will need to buy an extra bolt.”

  The men laughed heartily. Morys, who was almost as broad as he was tall, stepped forward and took a bow.

  “Let’s begin,” Nan cried.

  For the crossbow, they started with the mounds as their targets and then as contestants were eliminated, they moved to cloth targets affixed to coiled, straw mats on portable easels. Morys claimed the championship in the final round.

  “Better save up your coin, my lord,” the soldier teased. “I can eat my weight easily—and then some.”

  Next, Nan had David and Drew set up targets marked with five colored rings, which she preferred when bow and arrows were involved.

  “We have not used these targets before so they will test your mettle,” she told the contestants. “The center circle of the yellow band is worth ten points and if you hit the ring around it, you receive eight. The red band will be worth six and the blue one four. The white band will earn you two points, while the outer black band gives you one.”

  David stood to the left and Drew to the right so they could help tally the points after each round.

  “I hope you can remember all the totals, my lady,” Tristan said to her.

  Nan chuckled. “If I don’t, there will be at least a dozen men out there who will.”

  She proved correct, as the men kept score. After David or Drew would call out the point earned, Morys would echo it and then remind everyone who was in first place at the moment. The tension and excitement grew as it came down to the last three archers. It didn’t surprise Nan when Diggin claimed victory over the other two. The soldiers of Leventhorpe lifted him on their shoulders and paraded around the butts.

  “When can I expect my new tunic, Lady Gillian?” Diggin called out as they circled around the range.

  “Once I measure you, in two days’ time, Diggin,” she said, and another cheer went up from the men.

  They finally returned Diggin to the ground and Tristan held up a hand. The soldiers fell silent.

  “I am more than proud at today’s outcome. Every man here has bettered himself. I know you have worked up a hearty appetite.”

  “And a thirst,” a voice called out.

  “That, too,” Tristan agreed. “There’s plenty of food and even more ale awaiting you in the great hall. Wash the grime away and I will see you there for a celebration.”

  The soldiers broke across the range and ran like children to the troughs in the training yard.

  “You have done well, Nan,” Tristan said softly. “Very well, indeed.”

  “Thank you.”

  He looked to Lord Petyr, who’d remained a silent bystander throughout the matches. “You may join us in our festivities, my lord.”

  Nan noticed that he did not say the nobleman was welcomed. She bit back a smile at the omission.

  “I appreciate your kind invitation,” Lord Petyr replied.

  They returned to the keep, where the lavish amount of food laid out surprised Nan. She had no idea Tristan would make sure they celebrated today’s contest in such a manner. She gave him an appreciative smile. He bowed his head in acknowledgement.

  Once he helped seat her on the dais, Tristan sat next to her. Nan hated that Gillian would have to share her trencher with Lord Petyr, but she told herself that it was only for a single meal. Soon, Gillian would be sharing every meal with the man she adored.

  Nan only wished she could do the same.

  A giddiness filled her as Tristan made sure she received the choicest pieces of meat and the best of each course produced before them. His thigh brushed against hers, causing a frisson of pleasure to run along her spine. Her belly felt as if butterflies warred within it and her head felt light. She caught Tristan smiling at her and knew, in that moment, that she had done something terrible.

  Nan had fallen in love with him.

  Chapter 15

  Why had she done such a foolish thing?

  Nan berated herself. She had known she was physically attracted to Tristan. The two occasions they’d kissed had brought
her enjoyment and caused her to yearn for more. She enjoyed being in the nobleman’s company, as he was intelligent and had a quick wit. But to fall in love with him?

  It was unthinkable.

  How he had invaded her heart remained a mystery but any invasion could be repelled. She was a de Montfort—and de Montforts never lost anything.

  Except their hearts.

  Nan cursed under her breath. She refused to allow herself to be in this position. She would refuse to be in love with him. England was full of thousands of men. Hopefully, a few dozen from so many might prove worthy of her. She was charming and witty and beautiful.

  Tristan had told her so.

  How she could want to crawl into his lap and kiss the life out of him and still want to claw his eyes out at the same time puzzled her. She glanced up at his profile and her breath caught in her throat. Tristan was handsome beyond description. She couldn’t think around him. She needed to escape the merriment and spend time alone trying to sort out her feelings. Even now, there was a call for music and dancing. Men began pushing aside trestle tables. Nan looked and saw Gillian had already abandoned the dais for David’s company while a serving wench tugged on Drew’s elbow, encouraging him to come dance with her as a tune began to play.

  This wasn’t something Nan could discuss with her cousin or even her closest friend. She would talk it through in her own company and keep her sentiments a secret from everyone.

  Rising, she said, “If you will excuse me, my lord. I have had more than my fill to eat and need to check on Nightfoot. His knee proved tender yesterday and I want to see if any swelling has occurred. If so, I will prepare a poultice for it.”

  Tristan came to his feet. “If you would like, I can accompany you to the stables.”

  “Nay, I urge you to stay with your guest. Enjoy the music. Try dancing. It might do you some good.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at Lord Petyr and back to her. “You will let me know how Nightfoot fares?”

  “Aye.” She looked to Lord Petyr and gave him and Tristan a small curtsey, which seemed ridiculous to her the moment she did so since she still wore her pants and gypon.