The Return of Her Lost Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  ‘But then you would say that, since you always took pleasure from another’s misery, misfortune and hardship, borne out of this strange need to subjugate others.’

  ‘It is called being a strong, ruthless leader, Ralph—something you have never understood. Nor could ever be.’

  ‘I suppose, by crushing your opponents by any means?’

  ‘Exactly, my young cousin. It is the way of the world.’

  ‘You are right, that is something I can never understand. And as the head of our family—with our motto of Honore et Fide Imus—you have brought nothing but dishonour and disgrace. Look what you have reduced us to.’

  ‘What I have reduced us to?’ His cousin’s eyes widened. ‘If you were not such a simpering weakling, Ralph, I would never have had to do any of it.’

  ‘What a convenient excuse.’ Ralph laughed without any humour. ‘God, to think that I did nothing other than admire you, revere you when I was young. Damn it, I looked up to you as though you were my older brother.’

  ‘Yet that was precisely the point,’ Stephen sneered as he brought his sword forward, striking out. ‘I was not your brother, Ralph, but a lowly cousin. One who was given all of the advantages with none of the rewards.’

  Ralph defended himself aggressively. ‘Is that what all of this has always been about—the rewards you felt were your due?’

  ‘What else?’ the man spat. ‘Your fool of a father made me believe as though I would be his heir, the way he always he showed his partiality and preference. Constantly parading me in front of his sergeants, sheriffs, even lords and earls. Soon I came to believe it.’

  ‘Then that was your own foolish mistake, as it was never true.’

  They continued to dance around one another, the tension stretching and building between them. Stephen attempted to push him back and subdue him, but his efforts were repulsed as Ralph countered every blow with far more aggressive parrying ones of his own.

  ‘It was your father’s fault for making me believe that. The man had always sought my advice and never yours, Ralph. And as he had constantly berated your shortcomings and defects, I only mimicked his continual disappointment in you.’

  Ralph ground his teeth, knowing that there was some truth in that. Everything he had done was always seen as some sort of failure and flaw in his sire’s eyes. He had never been good enough for the man.

  ‘That may be so, but it changed nothing, Stephen.’

  ‘That is where you are wrong because it changed everything. How was I to know when your father made me think the opposite? Eventually I asked him to legitimately declare me as his heir, but do you know what my uncle said? That he already had an heir. Can you believe it, after everything he had said and done to the contrary?’

  Ralph turned swiftly to deflect another strike. ‘So, you decided to become turncoat and denounce him as a traitor.’

  ‘He had enemies enough who wanted to join with me, so it was hardly difficult to convince anyone of my uncle’s deficiencies or, come to mention it, yours as heir apparent.’

  ‘God, but you are an arrogant, presumptuous ass, Stephen.’

  ‘Am I? How droll,’ he said on a chuckle. ‘And yet I still maintain the necessity of what I did.’

  ‘Is that so? Did you somehow command Kinnerton well in the past six years?’ Ralph bent his knees and lunged forward on the attack. ‘Because from what I understand you have done nothing other than line your own purse while mismanaging the castle and demesne lands.’

  He did not miss the flicker of anger in his cousin’s eyes. ‘That is nothing other than idle talk. Besides, I do not answer to you, my young cousin.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘We shall.’ The man turned on his heel and swung his sword up from a downward motion so quickly that the blade nipped Ralph’s scarred cheek.

  Hell’s teeth but Stephen was using a sharp sword instead of a blunt blade as proscribed for tournaments such as this.

  ‘How very predictable that you have resorted to cheating, Stephen.’

  ‘When there is so much at stake, I cannot afford to take any chances.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose you shall now want to halt this and whine and whinge about it all. Either way I shall still triumph over you.’

  Ralph knew that he should alert the Crown of his cousin’s flagrant rule breaking, since a man as erratic and unreliable as Stephen le Gros in a volatile situation like this could cause any manner of disturbance. Especially, as he’d said himself, when he had so much at stake.

  But Ralph could not do it. He had endured so much at the hands of his cousin, so much that he had had to overcome and survive. The very real danger of sharpened swords did not alter anything now. Ralph felt numb to it. After all, he had suffered the man’s verbal and physical intimidations when he was young. He had survived the assault and ambush in Aquitaine and, more recently, at this very tournament, he had survived being poisoned while taking a beating by Stephen and a few of his cronies.

  ‘You keep your weaponry, if it gives you comfort, but it makes no difference to me.’

  ‘I see that you are still as naive as ever,’ Stephen scoffed.

  ‘Better that then to use trickery to get ahead.’

  ‘Whatever you say, cousin. But tell me, out of curiosity, did it hurt? In Aquitaine?’ The man jabbed forward as Ralph felt a small trail of blood trickle down his face. ‘I can assume it must have, just as I’m convinced of the hideous consequences that I can see before me.’

  ‘You should know all about that, Stephen—after all, you caused it.’

  ‘How remiss of me, as I had hoped to cause more,’ he jeered. ‘It looks so sore in its disfigured ugliness that I wonder how the lovely Gwenllian even looks on you.’

  The very mention of Gwen’s name on Stephen’s lips made Ralph stiffen immediately. How dare the man even attempt to use her good name after everything he had done. Gwen was Ralph’s weakness, but he could not allow himself to fall for his cousin’s trap, however difficult it might be. He understood that it would be best to ignore Stephen’s mocking. But, of course, the man was not finished yet.

  ‘Although it was vexing that the lady came so readily to your rescue, but then she did always leap forth to save lost puppies like you, Ralph.’ He struck out, turning to shield from Ralph’s attack, a slow smile curling on his lips. ‘Oh, do I sense a little anger here? Could it be possible that you know how unworthy you are of Kinnerton, but more importantly that you’re undeserving of her—of Gwen?’

  The men continued to circle around one another before engaging again with a quick succession, clashing swords.

  ‘Suddenly so quiet, Ralph. What has happened? Have you lost your tongue?’ Stephen’s voice seemed to drip with scorn. ‘I do hope it is not something I said about Gwen that has made you as tense as you are.’

  Ralph continued to keep his silence, knowing that he did not want to discuss anything regarding Gwen. Not with a man like Stephen. It would be disastrous to allow his cousin to draw him in, flaming his anger and fury to such a magnitude that it could threaten to consume him. That would not serve him well in the middle of a combat when Ralph needed his wits about him. Unfettered anger that could spill out of control would never do in this situation.

  ‘I would wonder what a woman like Gwen would truly think about that scarred ugly skin of yours, when one considers the glorious smoothness of her own,’ Stephen sneered. ‘And lord knows how I explored that creamy soft suppleness myself.’ He chuckled. ‘Did she ever tell you about that, Ralph? Did she tell you about how I gave her the most inexplicable carnal pleasures—as she also gave to me? Oh, I can still recall her little sighs and moans of delight as we explored one another. That and the way she looked in our moment of intimacy.’

  The sudden ringing in Ralph’s head became more and more constant and relentless. He knew he should not rise to the man’s taunts, they were just untru
ths, but it was increasingly difficult to do. He did not want to imagine his cousin’s filthy hands anywhere near Gwen, but the fact remained that the man had touched her. He had defiled her.

  Stephen le Gros had broken an oath that should have been sacrosanct as a knight, when he preyed on someone who was not in the position to fight back and had not sought his attentions. His cousin had behaved with depravity when he had frightened Gwen into doing things against her will.

  God’s blood, but he had to be punished.

  Ralph felt the anger quickly flare and disperse through his veins, hot, blazing and fierce, pumping through his blood. He wanted to roar and rage at Stephen, but he knew he had to temper his anger in the way that would be conducive in this combat. In the very manner that William Geraint and Hugh de Villers had ground into him.

  Ralph took a deep breath as he took a step back and squared his shoulders. His eyes narrowed on his opponent, knowing that Stephen was about to come at him with another set of attacking thrusts and strikes. But his cousin was a little slower than he had been at the beginning. Ralph’s plan to allow Stephen to go on the continual attack was beginning to yield, since he could feel the tiredness emerge in the man’s strokes.

  It was his moment to take Stephen on swiftly. Ralph led his cousin into a false sense of believing that he now had the better of him. But it was time to show him otherwise.

  He thrust forward on the attack, but was blocked by Stephen.

  ‘Come on, my young cousin, is this all that you possess?’ he barked. ‘Is this all you can do?’

  Ralph took a few steps back as his opponent lunged forward and, just as he did so, Ralph swung around to the side and completed the feint by using a fluid parrying strike that took Stephen totally by surprise. The man stumbled and fell back on to the grassy plain, his jaw widening at the expediency of his defeat as he looked up to see the tip of Ralph’s sword pointing at him.

  ‘No, I believe this is!’ Ralph retorted on a deep breath, with a faint smile on his lips. ‘I believe you have lost, Stephen.’ He kicked his sword away from him and picked it up.

  Ralph breathed a huge sigh of relief as his cousin was for once speechless, confounded and seemingly unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

  It was over, thank God. Ralph was victorious. He had triumphed over his terrible adversary in a resounding manner. The dull noise of cheering enveloped him as he gave the defeated man one last glance before striding back towards the royal spectator stands, with many now on their feet.

  Yet it seemed there was to be one last stand. Ralph’s innate instinct kept peril at bay as he sensed a sudden footfall behind him. He quickly swung around to find Stephen running at him with a dagger, his face contorted into savage viciousness. Ralph stood with his legs apart and waited until the man was close before he bent his knee and swung his feet around, taking Stephen’s legs from under him and tripping him up. Once again, the man was thrown to the ground.

  ‘You have lost, Stephen.’ Ralph looked down at his cousin as he removed his dagger from his hands. ‘And you are beginning to look very foolish in front of King Henry and the Marcher Earls.’

  ‘I cannot let this happen,’ the man said through gritted teeth.

  ‘But you have little choice.’ He gave him an implacable smile. ‘Concede, Stephen, concede with some semblance of graciousness and dignity.’

  ‘That would be convenient after everything that has happened,’ he spat. ‘You have taken everything from me—Kinnerton, even Gwenllian!’

  ‘You never understood, did you?’ He shook his head in disgust as he leant forward. ‘They were never yours to begin with, Stephen.’

  With that Ralph marched off, unable to spare another moment with the man who had caused him so much grief and misfortune.

  Yes, it was finally over.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Gwen stood up clapping, tears streaming down her face, as she watched Ralph stride with purpose back towards the royal party. After many, many long years and after so much pain and hardship, Ralph de Kinnerton was finally vindicated. He had triumphed over his deplorable cousin and in front of the King and the Marcher Earls and Lords, casting any last shred of doubt about his abilities as a warrior lord away.

  She felt her heart might burst from her chest as she dwelled on Ralph’s decisive, emphatic win. She was so proud of him. Isabel turned to her and gave her a huge hug as William Tallany jumped up and down beside her.

  Gwen watched as Ralph knelt in front of King Henry, who stepped down from the dais followed by the Earls of Chester and Hereford. He declared Ralph champion and, as the new Lord of Kinnerton, handed him a scroll with the royal stamp and then placed the ring of the Lords of Kinnerton back on Ralph’s finger. A befitting ceremony would later be sanctified and legitimised in church, but this felt somehow more symbolic.

  Before long they were once again cheering Ralph as Lords de Clancey and Tallany, as well as Sir Thomas, greeted and congratulated Ralph personally. Gwen followed the women down from the dais to extend her congratulations. She watched in amusement as Ralph threw a delighted William Tallany in the air before sitting him on his shoulders, the little boy’s legs dangling either side of his neck. She took a tentative step forward, suddenly feeling a little shy and self-conscious in front of so many people.

  Ralph caught her gaze and grinned, the warmth of his smile extending to his eyes, making her stomach flip over itself. Nothing, not even his visible scars, could ever diminish his vitality and spirit. Ralph de Kinnerton was an extraordinary man to come through the enormous trials that he had. She returned his smile, giving him a quick hug and muttering words of congratulations. He gave her another penetrating look and opened his mouth, about to say something, before some other person vied for his attention. Yes, there would be many who would seek his attention now that he had taken his rightful place as the Lord of Kinnerton.

  Her heart swelled with love for him. But it was precisely the very fact that she loved Ralph de Kinnerton that prevented Gwen from taking any step to be by his side. Stephen le Gros might have been defeated, his threat finally quashed, but he would always somehow come between them. She was pragmatic and realistic enough to know that. She sighed as she quietly slipped away from the area, allowing room for others wanting to pay homage to Ralph. She would be in the way as many people clamoured to see him.

  Lost in her own musings, Gwen found herself in a quiet area between the castle and the open fields of the tournament as she meandered back. She picked up her pace, sensing that she was being followed. Yet every time she turned around and darted her gaze in every direction, there was no one anywhere near her. It was likely to be her imaginings, though she now wished she had been a little more prudent and not so hasty to get back to her chamber on her own. She should have at least said something to Brida or Lady Isabel, but the need for quiet reflection had suddenly overwhelmed her.

  The leaves on trees that lined the path to the castle whistled in the breeze as Gwen reached the castle gatehouse. She exhaled slowly through her teeth. Her head dropped as she rubbed her forehead, relief flooding her veins. It was quite a ridiculous reaction when she considered how wonderful this day had turned out to be. But she was too premature as she was yanked violently by the arm as she stepped outside the stone gatehouse. She was pulled down a narrow, deserted pathway with a hand harshly covering her mouth.

  ‘I want you to be very, very quiet, my dear.’ It was Stephen le Gros’s voice from somewhere close behind her. He was clasping her arm with such ferocity she could feel his fingernails digging into her flesh.

  ‘I want you to listen very carefully to me, do you hear?’ His face loomed from behind and was too close for comfort. ‘I shall let go of my hand, but only if you agree to my conditions. We shall walk together, quietly but very efficiently, and leave this damn castle. We shall then mount my horse and get away from this infernal place. Otherwise, I am afraid I s
hall have no choice other than to use this.’ She could feel the tip of some sharp weaponry against her back.

  Stephen’s own unique scent enveloped her senses, making Gwen want to retch. Her stomach recoiled from his very touch. But she had to think quickly. She acquiesced to his demands by nodding her head, as he pushed her back in the direction of the gatehouse.

  She made a muffled noise from beneath his sweaty palm grasping her tightly.

  ‘Oh, no, my sweet, not yet.’ He trailed his lips along the side of her face, making her want to pull away. ‘You see, I could not allow him to take you from me. You belong to me, Gwenllian. Never forget that.’

  They rounded the corner and, before she knew what had happened, a strong, tightly coiled arm swung out and smashed his elbow in Stephen’s face with astonishing accuracy. She was pulled and lifted away from the man and deposited behind another, by Ralph, who was now standing and pointing Stephen le Gros’s own dagger at him, having retrieved it from the ground.

  ‘You broke my nose! You broke my nose,’ Stephen whimpered.

  ‘You are lucky that I did not break more than your damn nose!’ Ralph thundered.

  Gwen blinked, wondering whether she had ever seen Ralph de Kinnerton in such a blaze of fury. He looked as though he was just about hanging on to his temper by a thread.

  ‘Are you all right, Gwen?’ he asked slowly, his eyes still fixed on his cousin who had fallen to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose.

  ‘Yes, I am well. Thank you.’

  ‘Good.’ Ralph bent down and grabbed Stephen by the scruff of his tunic and pulled him to his feet, the sharp tip of his dagger against his neck as the other man visibly sagged and squirmed. ‘Now what should I do about you, Stephen? Tell me whether anyone would truly mind if you wound up dead in some ditch nearby?’

  Gwen gasped from behind, detecting the palpable anger that Ralph was finding difficult to restrain. Slowly but surely the rage from within him seemed to be unravelling.