The Return of Her Lost Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  Ralph lifted his head and she caught the whites in his eyes beneath the hooded cloak that he always wore. They held a murderous glint.

  Please...please go, she begged silently in her head. Turn around and leave. I can handle Stephen le Gros.

  She quickly faced the man still holding her, knowing she had to do something before this situation spiralled into disaster.

  ‘I asked you to let me go, Stephen,’ she muttered under breath. ‘I’m not sure what the Chief Justiciar, Hubert de Burgh, or the Earl of Chester, who also have the ear of the young King, will make of this behaviour. I’d doubt it would help in your pursuit of Kinnerton, if it were known, even if you do have the backing of the Earl of Hereford.’

  Gwen hoped that she hadn’t pushed Stephen too far, beyond even his limited control. She watched the flash of anger glint in his eyes before giving way to amusement.

  ‘Sir, would you allow the lady to pass?’ Ralph’s deferential voice, so unlike his own, boomed from below, but Stephen ignored him and watched her intently.

  ‘You were always good with words, were you not? Always knew exactly what to say. I suppose that is how you evaded me, Gwen. By running away and using that talented mouth of yours to become the Crown’s ward. Very clever, but no more.’ He ran his thumb across Gwen’s lips and then slowly let her go. ‘Until later, my sweet.’

  He inclined his head at Gwen and then turned on his heel, leaving through the entrance and barging past Ralph who had held his head low, covered beneath his hood.

  Gwen turned her head toward the entrance and clung to the wall for a moment as Ralph stepped back in the darkness again. Yet she heard his rampant breathing, chiming with her own.

  ‘Gwen?’ he murmured. ‘Did he...did he hurt you?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  No more than usual...

  Gwen picked up the torch that had fallen by her side, her hands shaking, and sensed that Ralph was about to depart as stealthily as he had arrived.

  ‘Thank you, by the way, for your assistance,’ she murmured quietly. She wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in her throat. They stood staring at each other in the darkness, with only the sound of her heart beating wildly in her chest. Gwen inhaled slowly before she turned around and continued to climb the stairs as swiftly as her feet could carry her.

  Chapter Six

  The knights’ procession the following day was a colourful spectacle filled with pomp and gallantry, demonstrating skill and commanding horsemanship. Apart from the exhibition and warm-up combat from the previous days, this would now usher the commencement of the mêlée à pied, the mêlée à cheval and the hand-to-hand combat.

  The knights passed by in perfect formation, bowing in unison to King Henry, the silver metal of their armour and chain of their hauberks gleaming, as it caught in the sunshine. Deprived of their customary metal helmets, the exuberance and excitement were palpable on every young knight’s face. The colours and heraldry of banners and surcoats paraded, marking out the various Lords’ retinues that the knights belonged to.

  Gwen was sat beneath the ornate canopied dais reserved for the King and the attending court, watching the knights mounted on their magnificent horses with a composed serenity. Yet inside she was in turmoil after what had happened the previous evening. She pasted a smile on her face and clapped her hands along with everyone else, as the knights marched past without really absorbing much around her.

  Stephen le Gros had slithered into her mind, like a viperous snake, but then again, she had expected this from him. She never doubted that he could have changed over the years.

  Indeed, she had been quite correct to have brought forward her meticulous plans to get away to the convent she had made prior arrangements with. And with the finer details settled, they would leave on the morrow. As soon as might be. It would allow her the opportunity to finally be free of the man for good.

  Lifting her head, Gwen noticed a woman she recognised from the previous evening smile at her, a lady who had sat among Lord de Clancey’s knights, talking to Sir Thomas’s squire...to Ralph.

  ‘Brida, is that Lord de Clancey’s wife?’

  ‘Yes, I believe that’s Isabel de Clancey.’

  The lady in question briefly looked at the group of knights passing with the de Clancey colours, including Thomas Lovent, smiling in his golden self-assured manner, as he rode passed. Gwen watched as Lady Isabel then flicked her eyes to Ralph standing as squire on the far side, his head and face covered, trying to look inconspicuous before returning back to her and inclining her head. Gwen flushed, but also bowed her head in return, her light blue veil billowing behind.

  She realised then this lady must know about her...from Ralph. She swallowed down the mortification, feeling stifled, and turned her attention back to the parade. The sooner she could finally leave and be on her way from this place, the better.

  * * *

  Ralph watched Gwen from where he was standing and wondered once again at her cool manner after what he had witnessed the previous evening.

  God, but when he had discovered Stephen le Gros holding and pressing her against the stone wall of the stairwell, he felt like raging against his cousin. And he would have had the man not let Gwen go. Ralph knew she had been shaken by the experience, but there was also something a little disturbing about the unfolding events.

  The way in which Gwen had kept her nerve and not cowered, but had stood up against le Gros, had been both admirable and perplexing. In fact, she had been trying in vain to placate Stephen in a calm, measured way. Ralph had sensed Gwen’s outrage and revulsion, but the lady had not been as surprised as he’d expected her to be in such a precarious situation. It was almost as though such a thing had happened before between Gwen and his contemptable cousin.

  Ralph felt sick to the stomach just considering this to be a possibility. But then, Stephen had pursued Gwen, inappropriately when they had all been younger. Was there more that he had not been aware of? Had that been part of the reason that Gwen stayed at Kinnerton and had forced him to leave?

  From a distance Ralph could see Gwen rise from her seat and steal away from the spectators’ area. He darted his gaze in every direction, making sure that no one was watching him before slipping away in search of her. He found her of all places at the blacksmith’s, talking quietly with her companion. At least the woman had accompanied her mistress this time, unlike the previous evening.

  Ralph hesitantly approached them without getting too close and caught Gwenllian’s eyes. He’d startled her, he noticed, as she flinched, then quickly recovered herself.

  Gwen had not expected to see him and why would she? Had he not expressed that he no longer wanted to resume their friendship? Had he not pushed her away and warned her against any further interest in his life? Yes...and it had been necessary. Ralph could not fault his reasoning for his need to achieve what he had set out. He needed no distractions, just a resolute singlemindedness to right all the wrongs perpetrated against him. Yet Ralph was dissatisfied with how everything stood between them. With how there might be more to Gwen’s apparent betrayal of him than he had initially believed.

  In any case, he had not been able to push Gwen out of his mind since the moment he had seen her again, however hard he had tried.

  ‘I did not expect to see you here.’ She was talking to him softly, albeit discreetly. Both of them were faced away from one another, in different directions, and to any casual observer they would appear absorbed in anything other than this encounter.

  ‘Nor I you.’ Ralph ran his fingers across the smooth length of the blade as though he were examining the sword. ‘I had not thought you would leave the knights’ parade so soon.’

  ‘Other matters needed my attention.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you not also have duties to serve your knight?’

  ‘I do, but I wanted to...nay, I needed to see you after last night.�
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  She ignored him as her companion whispered something in her ear before walking away, presumably with an errand.

  The big burly blacksmith wiped his hands on a dirty cloth and nodded at Ralph. ‘Your helmet has been smoothed and would be ready on the morrow, as promised.’

  ‘My thanks and I’ll be delivering more of Sir Thomas’s weapons for you in preparation for the mêlée, if you have the time to attend to it?’

  ‘Aye.’ He nodded as he turned to Gwen. ‘And now, my lady...’ the man inclined his large head awkwardly ‘...about what we discussed before... I can get everything that you need, ready and tight by sundown.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘You are too kind.’

  Ralph watched with fascination as the big, gruff man softened his stance with a reticent smile on his face at being called ‘kind’ by a lady. He inclined his head again and resumed his work. Gwen returned his smile and bid the man farewell and began to walk towards the inner bailey of the castle. She took no notice of Ralph, intent, it seemed, on ignoring him even though he followed, keeping his distance, behind her.

  ‘Tell me how you fare, Lady Gwenllian?’ he said in a low voice, his head bent low.

  ‘Thank you, but there is no need for you to concern yourself with me.’

  He caught her elbow from behind and she stilled. ‘Gwen?’ he whispered softly.

  ‘I’m well, but you had best go,’ she muttered over her shoulder. ‘It would be inadvisable if we were seen together, would it not?’

  That he knew, but there was something she wasn’t telling him. ‘What are you up to, my lady?’ She began to quicken her pace, ignoring him. ‘What are these matters that need your attention?’

  She stopped, but still faced away from him. ‘They are of no importance. You and I are no longer...’ She shook her head and exhaled deeply. ‘Our lives run along different paths, now.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Well then, I beg you to leave it and continue to do everything you can to win Kinnerton back.’

  ‘Gwen, I...’

  ‘Go back, Ralph...forget me,’ she whispered and resumed walking, almost sprinting in her hurry to get away.

  Forget Gwenllian ferch Hywel?

  He had tried to...all these years he had tried but, no, it appeared that Ralph could not forget her. No, he could never do that.

  * * *

  It was not too difficult to locate Gwenllian before dawn the following morn, getting ready to leave surreptitiously when most from King Henry’s court and knights in attendance were still abed.

  In fact, it had been shockingly easy to find out what she intended to do, especially with so many ordinary people whom she had sought help eager to talk readily in exchange for coin. Ralph had followed her trail in dismay. The impulsive foolishness of leaving, with just a young stable hand and her pretty companion, a woman as young as Gwen, no less, was nothing short of madness. Lord above, it was as though they were actively seeking trouble or at best naive enough to believe they were sufficiently protected.

  They were not.

  What he did not know was why Gwen was leaving now. But then again Ralph knew nothing of Gwen’s life and what had happened to her after all this time. He wondered whether her reasons might have something to do with their meeting in the woods a few night ago. He hoped it had not.

  Ralph stepped out of the darkness and into the gloomy, unlit stables that housed some of the finest horses in the land. Gwenllian and her small party were packing up their meagre belongings and attaching them to the saddlebags with quiet, efficient expediency. They were naturally in a hurry to get away.

  He peered from under his wide hood and saw that she was surprised. Her eyes widened and she stopped and turned towards him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she hissed.

  ‘I could ask you the very same question.’

  Her lips twisted in annoyance, but she did not offer an answer.

  ‘Well?’

  Gwen turned away and continued to brush down her grey mare, uttering soothing comfort into the horse’s ear.

  Ralph looked her up and down and shook his head. She was wearing a dark woollen tunic, a padded leather gambeson, a wide hooded cloak, thick hose and matching braies. In fact, the apparel of a young squire, but Gwen looked entirely too feminine to pass for a young boy.

  Her companion, Brida, strode through the entrance, wearing similar clothing. The young woman opened her mouth to say something to Gwen, but once she realised that he was there, she looked between them, worried her bottom lip and turned away.

  ‘You still have yet to answer.’

  ‘What I choose to do has absolutely nothing to do with you, Ralph de Kinnerton.’

  ‘No, my lady.’ He touched his hood, making sure that his face was still concealed. ‘I did not say it did, but I would be grateful if you could oblige me, all the same.’

  ‘Would you? And for what purpose?’ She sighed in irritation. ‘Why this interest in me and my movements now?’

  He raised a brow. ‘You believe that you are of no interest to me?’

  ‘No, not from what you conveyed to me a few nights ago.’ She shrugged. ‘And, frankly, why should you, after all this time?’

  Yes, he had clearly offended her that night in the woods.

  Ralph tried a different tack. ‘You seem to be in a hurry to get away, my lady?’

  ‘We are, sir, so if you will excuse us, please. We would like to leave before daybreak.’

  He caught her arm as she tried to walk past him and pulled her around to face him. Gwen’s eyes fell to his hand touching her and Ralph quickly removed it, as though he’d been burned. Heat ignited through his body from such an innocuous contact. He swallowed, pushing the thought away, and stepped back.

  ‘You wish to leave before anyone has a chance to find that you’re missing? Is that it?’

  She didn’t answer him, but turned away to stand in the entrance and addressed her party.

  ‘Simon, have you tied up the extra provisions?’ She stood with her hands on her hips, addressing her companions.

  ‘Yes, mistress, once I get this hack ready with the rest of the saddlebags.’ A young male voice came out from behind the stables. Christ above, he was no more than a boy.

  ‘Good, and what of you, Brida? Are you ready to depart?’ Her companion made a single nod which Gwen returned before turning to attend her horse in the stable.

  Ralph watched, turning from one to the other in disbelief. He had to try to make her see sense, somehow.

  ‘What is this all about, Gwen?’ He expelled his breath through his teeth. ‘What are you running away from?’

  ‘It really doesn’t concern you, sir.’ She frowned.

  ‘Is it Stephen le Gros?’

  She stiffened immediately. ‘Even if it were, I do not need your help with him or anything else, Ralph.’

  A muscle leapt into his jaw. ‘You still do not believe that I can stand up to my cousin?’

  ‘That is not what I meant. I am happy in the knowledge that you are doing everything you can to reclaim Kinnerton. And I wish you every success with this tournament, Ralph. I truly do.’ She rubbed her forehead before continuing. ‘But that does not mean that you are in some way obligated to me because of our shared past. You do not owe me anything.’

  ‘Even so,’ he said, standing in a dark corner, ‘I can still be apprehensive about what happens to you. This, whatever it is that you are doing, is nothing but a fool’s errand.’

  ‘Not that I care for your opinion, sir.’

  ‘You are putting the lives of your companion, the young lad as well as your own in danger.’

  ‘And not for the first time,’ she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to him.

  ‘What does that mean?’ He stepped towards her again. ‘Gwen? Talk to me.’


  She turned to face him, raising a brow. ‘So, now you wish for discourse between us? I apologise, Ralph, but we simply do not have the time to tarry.’

  ‘If I can discover that you’re running away, with such ease I might add, then anyone can. I did it, effortlessly, in between the rigorous tourney practice, as well. Anyone intent on finding you would be able to, within a day or two.’

  ‘I disagree. My departure is not expected and once it has been discovered that I am no longer here, it would be too late to pursue me.’

  ‘Is that so? I’m not convinced, Gwen.’ He grimaced. ‘And if we leave that aside, what of other dangers that you’re likely to meet on a long journey? For that is what I presume this to be?’

  ‘Whatever danger we may face, it shall be a difficulty for me to bear.’

  ‘“Difficulty?” I think it will be far more than that. What in heaven’s name will you do if you are set on by bandits or outlaws, Gwen?’

  ‘Please...please, just leave this be.’ He could see the tension mounting in her shoulders as she screwed her eyes shut. ‘I have been planning this for a long while, so you need not worry that this has somehow been decided on some whim. I promise you that it has not.’

  ‘It does not matter how long you have planned and prepared for this scheme. It would still spell a disaster.’ He shook his head and softened his voice. ‘Are you this desperate to be away from here?’

  ‘What if I am?’ she whispered.

  ‘Gwen...’

  Ralph would never have envisaged Gwenllian ferch Hywel like this. Whenever, he had thought about her, over the years it had been with regret, heartache and, aye...bitterness. Anger towards her for not agreeing to run away with him and the reality that she had forsaken him out of obligation—for duty. Her practical, sensible and measured insistence, at the time, had left him without an argument to change her mind. He had left her behind, believing that her ambitions were tied to fulfilling a duty to be Lady of Kinnerton.