The Return of Her Lost Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  There was a dull ringing in Ralph’s head and his stomach twisted in a knotted coil of cold fury and a certain feeling of helplessness for all that Gwen had gone through. God, but had he not expected something like this? He had predicted that there was something missing from what she had said, yet this was far more and far more depraved than he had ever imagined.

  Now for it to be finally voiced made Ralph’s blood roar with rage to think that Stephen le Gros had touched Gwenllian, the loveliest, kindest and most caring woman he knew and against her wishes, with sullied hands that could only belong to someone as foul as his cousin.

  And what made this all so much worse for Ralph was that it had all happened while he had thought the worst of Gwen and her reasons for not running away with him. For six long years, he had believed that she had somehow put her ambitions for wanting to become the next Lady de Kinnerton above anything else. And while she had been put through that dreadful ordeal, at the hands of his cousin, Ralph had run away like a worthless coward.

  God’s breath!

  The shame he felt for not protecting Gwen when she had needed him threatened to consume him. Lord only knew how much when he had failed her so utterly and completely.

  ‘Ralph?’ Her soft voice pierced through his morose musings. ‘Won’t you say something?’

  ‘Yes.’ His voice sounded shaky even to his own ears. ‘But let me say that no words can truly convey the regret and outrage I feel for what happened to you, Gwen.’

  ‘It was not your fault, Ralph.’

  ‘Was it not?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘But I hope that what I have recounted here explains the difficult choices I was forced to make. And ones I must continue to make after this tournament draws to a close.’

  Yes, he did. He had foreseen that there was a lot more to the path that Gwen had chosen and his assumptions were sadly correct. Her desire to take the veil now took on a huge significance that made him want to weep at her feet for all that she had endured. And in truth, if he had been listening closely, mayhap he would have understood her difficulties better, despite the fact that he had pushed Gwen to relive that painful moment from the past again. Yet there was more from the manner in which she had spoken. Gwen had not just disclosed this to explain the shame, guilt and pain she felt about what had happened resulting in her decision to enter a holy order. But because she was also telling him that there could never be anything between them. Had she not been saying this all along? That their love was not enough to overcome the past.

  Damn Stephen le Gros to hell.

  All of it had begun and ended with the bastard.

  The guard emerged again from the narrow passage outside to take her away from this gloomy, damp place. Just as well, since Ralph could not presently look at her knowing how much he had let her down. How much he felt the blame of what had happened.

  He heard Gwen step away to leave when he turned to her once again.

  ‘I must go now. Until tomorrow, Ralph, try to manage to gain some rest.’ Her voice was now dull, void of any emotion. So much so, that he wanted to reach out to her.

  ‘I am sorry, Gwen. I should have protected you better against a man like Stephen.’

  ‘As I said, it was not your fault.’ She shook her head, giving him a sad smile. ‘How could it be?’

  Very easily.

  Ralph waited until she had gone before he pounded his fist against the stone wall again and again, welcoming the sharp pain as the cold jagged edges of the wall grazed and cut his hand. He sank on to the floor and covered his head with his hands, feeling the enormity of what Gwen had just divulged. She might not believe that he was to blame, but he felt the responsibility for what had happened to her all the more. He felt it keenly, knowing that she had done it...yes, to protect him.

  Hell’s teeth, that took on a very new and dark meaning now.

  And yet Ralph knew whose fault it actually was. Who was to blame for all their misfortune. His cousin—Stephen le Gros.

  As Ralph sat there on that filthy floor, he made a vow to himself that he would never allow anything like this to happen again. As God was his witness, he would rather die, than allow anyone to harm even a hair on Gwenllian ferch Hywel. The impending one-to-one combat with Stephen on the morrow suddenly took on a far more ominous stance, but it could not come soon enough.

  Yes, everything had begun and ended with his cousin and tomorrow Ralph had a moment with destiny, to end it once and for all.

  * * *

  Gwen left the horrible cavernous dungeons close to tears, but she would not allow them to fall. No, she would hold her head high, meet with Brida outside the dungeons and make their way back to the keep. Only once she was back in the privacy of her chamber would she then give in to those tears.

  She had always known deep in her heart what Ralph’s reaction would be, once he was made aware of the truth about that terrible time, all those years ago. And she had not been wrong since he could hardly hide his bitterness, anger and even disappointment. Ralph could barely look at her once she had informed him, the sudden difference in him so very tangible.

  Mayhap in time it would even alter the way in which he viewed her and Gwen would not be able to live with that. No, she did not want to see resentment and eventually disgust masked on Ralph’s face. His vile cousin would constantly be between them. It would never do. A future between them would always be doomed.

  She stepped out into the night and took a deep breath, allowing the clean, crisp air to replace the putrid smell from the dungeons.

  ‘Is everything well, Lady Gwenllian?’ Brida stood outside the underground opening, waiting for her.

  No, nothing would ever be well again. ‘Yes, I suppose, all things considering.’

  ‘Sir Thomas is here to provide escort.’ Her companion flushed a little as she nodded in the direction of Ralph’s handsome friend.

  ‘Indeed, my lady.’ Sir Thomas Lovent bowed before walking to her side. ‘Ralph ensured that while he might be ensconced inside a cell, you would still need protection from his cousin, should the man want to seek retribution for your part in the hall earlier.’

  ‘Yes, you were very brave, Gwen.’

  It would be her one last act in helping Ralph before she set off on her journey to the convent. A journey that Gwen realised she would now have to make without Ralph’s escort. Mayhap she had always known deep down that it would be too much of a struggle for them both to travel together. That their intense attraction would always be an impediment to what needed to be done. To go their separate ways. Well, there was nothing for it. She would inform Brida of the changes to their plans. They would now get away after Ralph’s one-to-one combat with his cousin on the morrow, whatever happened.

  ‘I do not know about that, but I’ll be glad of the protection you provide for us, sir.’

  ‘It shall be my pleasure, my lady.’ He nodded. ‘And just to give you further peace of mind, there’ll be de Clancey guards dotted around the keep and outside your chamber, courtesy of Lady Isabel de Clancey.’

  ‘Then please pass on my thanks to the lady, until I am able to convey them in person.’

  ‘I’ll be happy to.’ He strolled beside her. ‘And how is our mutual friend?’

  She sighed. ‘As well as can be expected, when you consider that he’s spending the eve of the most important combat against Stephen le Gros in a dungeon.’ She frowned. ‘Was there nothing that could have been done about it?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I tried to share the burden with him, but Ralph would not have it. He insisted that it was his penance and only he would spend the night in that hovel.’

  ‘But it is hardly fair.’

  ‘I agree, yet it was the only way to appease a man as powerful as the Earl of Hereford.’

  ‘So, while Ralph has to sleep in that rat-infested hovel, as you put it, his cousin can spend the n
ight on a warm comfortable pallet.’

  ‘Let it not trouble you, Lady Gwenllian. Ralph has slept in worse places without it impacting his performance. You forget he is a seasoned warrior.’

  ‘I shall try not to, sir, but it still worries me greatly.’

  ‘I understand.’ He gave her a reassuring smile as they approached the entrance to the keep. ‘I shall leave you here and bid you goodnight, my lady, Mistress Brida. Until tomorrow.’

  Yes, it all rested on what would happen on the morrow.

  One thing was certain; she was not going to get much sleep this evening either.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gwen sat in the canopied spectators’ area with the royal party, twisting her hands in her lap nervously. As predicted, she had a very difficult night, tossing and turning, anxious about the event about to commence and unfold. It was not a cold day, yet she could not stop shivering and breathing unevenly.

  She scanned the area and caught Lady Isabel de Clancey’s eyes further along the way, sitting with Lady Eleanor Tallany and her young son. It seemed that they were just as nervous as she, which for a strange reason was quite comforting, knowing that she was not the only who cared for Ralph and the outcome today.

  Gwen smiled and inclined her head when she realised that she was being beckoned over to sit with them. ‘Gwen, Brida, come and sit with me!’ William Tallany said loudly.

  The two young women shuffled along to sit with their small group and greeted one another before sitting down beside them.

  ‘I wanted to thank you, Isabel, for providing the guards around the keep yesterday. It meant that I could go to my bed feeling far more secure than I otherwise would have.’

  ‘Oh, it really was nothing.’ Isabel shrugged. ‘And it was the least I could do after what you did. I am told that without your statement of support for Ralph, he would have not been successful in convincing the Crown of his true identity.’

  ‘I could hardly sit by and allow that to happen.’

  ‘No.’ Isabel smiled knowingly at her. ‘I suppose you could not.’

  Gwen sobered. ‘Lady Isabel, I believe that you are under a misapprehension regarding Ralph and myself.’

  ‘Do not distress yourself about such trifles and I am sure that you are right.’ Her smile deepened briefly before it slipped away. ‘Look, they are about to commence.’

  Gwen snapped her head around to watch Ralph stride towards the royal stands, his hauberk mail armour worn over a gambeson, carrying his shield and helmet in one hand and his gleaming metal sword in the other. He seemed every part the raw, menacing, powerful warrior exuding strength and confidence. And he had never looked more wonderful. He walked with purpose, his cousin on one side as he reached the dais in front of where King Henry sat in his royal regalia, flanked either side by the two Marcher Earls of Chester and Hereford who maintained their roles as hosts of the tournament.

  The men knelt with their swords in front of them, solemnly making an oath to God, to the King and to the rules of the combat they would soon engage in.

  Gwen kept her eyes on Ralph de Kinnerton, the man she loved deeply, but had to forsake. She noted that he had wrapped her token around his wrist and hoped that it would bring him the fortuity that he deserved. He got to his feet and met her eyes briefly before turning his attention to his weaponry. It amazed her that this man, who seemed so assured and confident, could be the same as the one who had spent the night in that stinking dungeon.

  Either way it mattered not, when her heart clenched tightly at the sheer sight of him. When tiny wisps unfurled in her stomach, just by being near to him.

  She reproached herself, knowing it was futile to continually acknowledge these feelings. If last night proved one thing, it was that they were not destined to be with one another, however much they both might desire it. The life-changing events from the past made a future together a sad impossibility.

  ‘Do not worry about him, Gwen,’ Isabel muttered in her ear. ‘I’m sure he shall prevail.

  ‘I hope so. His cousin is also skilled and would not think it beneath him to use underhand tactics.’

  ‘That may well be true, but Ralph will see through anything. I am certain.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m sure your estimation is right and I’m glad that his night in the dungeon does not seem to have had a detrimental effect.’

  William Tallany turned to her and responded earnestly. ‘That is ’cos I made sure Ralph had lots of honey cake when he came out of that hellhole.’

  ‘William! Where did you hear such coarse language?’ his mother reprimanded.

  ‘Papa said it.’

  ‘And yet it’s not the proper thing in front of ladies,’ Eleanor said as William shrugged an apology, making them all smile, breaking the tension briefly.

  ‘Well, in any case, we shall soon find out, but do not forget that today Ralph fights for honour and the chance to have Kinnerton restored to him in front of the most important men in the land. And as himself, without another’s mask.’ Isabel squeezed Gwen’s hand.

  ‘Yes, very true.’

  It also meant that, above all, she hoped Ralph would be victorious after overcoming adversity with everything that he had endured. He deserved nothing less.

  * * *

  Ralph felt darts of apprehension and tension flicker down his spine. This momentous occasion that he had, in some way, been waiting six long years for had finally arrived. His day of reckoning with Stephen le Gros.

  God, but the man was vile and reprehensible. He had betrayed his father and been instrumental in his downfall, taken Kinnerton, betrayed Ralph and tried to bring about his demise, time and again. But above all, he was the man who had hurt Gwenllian ferch Hywel in the most abhorrent, unspeakable manner. All because of his insatiable greed and lust for power. But Ralph must not think about her now, could not be distracted by his thoughts of her. He must channel his own anger.

  Ralph allowed this to penetrate his mind again and again, reminding himself of everything that Stephen had done. All the futile pain and destruction the man had caused.

  They stood adjacent to one another, kneeling in front of King Henry and the Marcher Earls, making an oath of peace to King Henry. They then turned to face each other with a perfunctory bow as customary under the chivalric knightly code. And then it begun...immediately with their clashing swords.

  Stephen came at him with a succession of attacking strikes, sweeping his sword across his body, pushing Ralph back into defending himself. Neither man spoke as they were both wrapped in these initial encounters, trying to gain the measure of one another.

  Over and over Ralph turned and tilted his sword to defend the onslaught of Stephen driving and pushing his attacks forward, ruthlessly. It mattered not, as Ralph was ready for the relentless wave of strikes, noting with satisfaction that not only did he match his cousin’s strength with ease, but he held him back with such force and determination that it was making Stephen become increasingly subdued, his movements slightly laboured.

  Still, he would not underestimate the man who was known for his cunning. The clash of the metal blades continued as his cousin lunged forward, swiping and slashing his sword across, making Ralph spin around to his side to engage in the riposte and counter-attack. Oh, yes, he also had a few tricks under his gambeson.

  ‘Not bad, my young cousin. Not bad for someone like you,’ Stephen muttered from under his helmet.

  ‘Someone like me? And pray what is that, Stephen?’

  ‘Now, I would not want you to run off crying, Ralph. Not in front of all these people, including the gullible young King, come to witness this little family squabble. But come now, Ralph you know exactly what I mean. It seems you have been busy these past few years. Why, you could barely hold a sword before, let alone yield it.’

  ‘I have certainly lived through the most arduous of years,’ Ralph said, swinging hi
s sword around his body effortlessly.

  ‘I suppose you must have,’ his cousin said uninterestedly. ‘And yet I cannot help being a little disappointed.’

  ‘I am sure you must be, since all your attempts to stifle me have only ended in failure.’

  ‘Have they?’ He chuckled. ‘We shall see. To think that after all this time and effort, you’re still going to lose, Ralph. Oh, yes, how very disappointing and predictable you are.’

  ‘I do not think so.’ Ralph would not allow this man to crawl under his skin like he used to and spread his venom. ‘I am no longer the boy you used to know and manipulate for your own gain.’

  And to prove his point Ralph stepped back and removed his helmet. The hum of the crowd’s gasps and murmurs enveloped them. Stephen had no choice but to follow suit and take off his helmet, throwing it at Ralph’s feet.

  ‘Yes, this is better. At least I can now see the pathetic look on your face when I bring you down.’ He thrust forward suddenly, taking Ralph by surprise. ‘Boy or man, it makes no difference to me.’

  ‘True, why hide beneath the veneer of respectability or even chivalry? You have never possessed either.’

  ‘God’s breath, Ralph, you are a bore. You were back then as well, if memory serves, an insufferable dolt.’

  Ralph countered another attack with one of his own, regaining the upper hand as he pushed the other man off his course. ‘You know, this was always something I never understood about you—your hatred for me. The fact that you bullied and intimidated and then set out to spread lies about me to anyone you could. Why? What did I ever do to you?’

  ‘You surely cannot expect me to answer such trite nonsense.’