Her Knight Protector

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Her Knight Protector Page 3

by Anne Herries


  What were a few small lies in such a cause?

  Katherine’s thoughts turned towards the knight with the merry blue eyes, remembering the way her heart had raced when he opened them to look at her. How fair he was to look upon! No man had ever caused her to feel that way before and she smiled at her own foolishness. To let herself dream of this man would be folly indeed. He had thought her a child, and that she had not been in many years. Not since that terrible night at Acre, when she had seen people she loved as friends hounded from their homes and killed like rats in the street.

  Her father had told her that such things happened in war, that even the best of men might behave badly when the blood-lust was raised in him, and she knew that what the knights did that day was a part of war. Yet it had haunted her dreams for months and even now she was not completely free of the memory.

  Because of that memory, she was vaguely uneasy about telling the whole of her story to the knight who had charged so valiantly to her rescue. She was grateful for what he had done for her, but she dare not trust him with the complete truth.

  Something of the importance and value she carried might turn the minds of even the most honourable of men.

  Chapter Two

  Alain was strangely restless as he woke with the dawn. He had not slept well and it was not simply that both he and Bryne had sensed they were being followed the previous day. As yet there had been mere glimpses of a horse and rider in the distance. At times they had travelled through steep valleys hemmed in by towering hills to either side, at others their way lay through dense woods or past small villages, where they bought food. At no time had the secret watchers attempted to come closer—but why were they there? Perhaps more importantly, what did they want?

  The previous night they had camped close to a river. Alain was thoughtful as he walked down to a secluded spot where he intended to bathe. A brief swim in its cool waters would help to clear his mind and cleanse his body. He liked to bathe more often than was the custom in England, a habit he had learned from Arab friends in Palestine. For, despite his desire to free the Holy City from Saladin, he had found it possible to make friends with men of all faiths and nationalities. Indeed, he had found the Arab culture of peace and learning pleasant, and, had it not been for his strong faith, might have stayed happily amongst them.

  He was feeling out of sorts with himself this morning as he flexed his muscles, easing off the ache of lying on the hard ground, though he did not know why. But perhaps the act of bathing would relieve the tension that had built in him of late, the feeling that he was missing something, that his life had no real purpose.

  ‘You are a fool, Alain de Banewulf,’ he told himself with a wry smile as he walked to the nearby river. ‘What is it that you want of life? Why can you never be satisfied?’

  The answer was something that still eluded him, as it had for years past. It was as if he searched for something that might never be his, a sense of fulfilment and of peace.

  Stripping off his clothes, which were the simple tunic and close-fitting hose of a soldier, and did not include the suit of chain-mail he wore for battle, Alain plunged into the river. He came up gasping and gave a shout of pleasure. The water was cold, but wonderful. How good it was to feel young and alive! His mood was shaken off and he was glad that he had chosen to slip away for these private moments.

  He swam across the river with quick, powerful strokes, enjoying the energy that surged through him, then turned over on to his back, floating lazily as he let himself think about the things that had played on his mind during the night.

  What was the Lady Katherine of Grunwald up to? And what secret was she hiding? He had thought Bryne too suspicious at the start, but after two days in the lady’s company he had changed his mind. For certain she had something on her mind—something she did not wish to share with her companions.

  Hearing the sound of someone splashing in the water a little further downstream, Alain turned his head to look for the source. Now he could hear laughter. Evidently, someone was enjoying the water as much as he was.

  He could hear voices calling to one another—the Lady Katherine and the dragon, if he were not mistaken. His keen senses told him that they were just past the bend in the riverbank, hidden from his view by the fronds of a weeping tree.

  ‘You should not take the risk, my lady.’

  ‘I am safe enough, Maria. Sir Alain is an honourable knight and his men would not dare to anger him. Besides, I needed to bathe. I felt so dirty.’

  ‘Well, you are safe enough with me to watch over you, for I would kill any man who dared to spy on you.’

  Alain smiled to himself, amused by the force of this avowal. He would put nothing past the dragon. His head had been tender for some hours after the last time she’d hit him and he would not want to risk it again.

  He would not frighten them, he decided, and swam carefully back to the bank, pulling on his clothes quickly as he felt the chill of the early morning air. He was just fastening his low-slung sword belt when he heard the scream.

  Katherine was in trouble! He ran towards the sound and then stopped in surprise as he saw something totally unexpected. A woman was struggling with two ruffians, but it was not Katherine. This woman was taller, older, more voluptuous and very beautiful with long blonde hair tumbling down her back.

  Alain did not stop to consider. Drawing his sword, he gave a roar that had oft sent shivers running through Saladin’s warriors. As he descended on the three, the men gave him a startled glance and let go of the woman. They then ran off towards a group of three horses and, seizing the bridles of two, mounted and rode off into the woods.

  The woman looked at Alain, gave a cry and swooned as he reached her. Sheathing his sword, he knelt beside her on the dry earth and laid his head against her breast, listening for her heartbeat. Thank God she lived! Even as her eyelids fluttered open, Alain felt a heavy blow across his shoulders from behind. It sent him reeling and he lay winded for a moment, then as he pushed himself over on to his back and looked up, he saw Maria standing over him, moneybag in hand.

  ‘You should be shamed to treat a lady so!’ she cried, her eyes flashing with righteous fury.

  ‘You hit me again!’ Alain said and sat up. ‘Be damned to you, woman! You are too hasty with that weapon of yours. I was merely trying to decide if the lady was breathing.’

  The beauty was sitting up. She looked far from pleased as she stared at Maria, her full red lips forming a sulky pout.

  ‘Foolish wretch!’ she cried, clearly none the worse for her adventure. ‘This brave knight hath rescued me from those rogues who were trying to abduct me. You might have killed him.’

  ‘Nay, no matter,’ Alain said. For some reason the obvious hostility between the two women made him want to laugh out loud. Maria’s look was enough to frighten the dead and the other’s was…puzzling. He would swear that she had been thwarted in some way. He was on his feet now, offering his hand to the damsel so recently in distress and now evidently recovered. ‘You must forgive her. Maria thought she was protecting you from my wicked intent—is that not so, Maria?’

  He got nothing but a scowl from the dragon, but the beauty accepted his hand gratefully, rising a little unsteadily and giving a sigh. For a moment she swayed as though she might swoon and then she smiled. Alain felt breathless of a sudden. He could not recall ever having seen such a smile or eyes that shade—they were such a deep blue that they might almost have been the colour of violets. He knew a fleeting but urgent desire to lie with her.

  ‘I am the Lady Celestine De Charlemagne,’ she said, her fingers trembling in his. ‘My husband was Baron De Charlemagne…’ A deep sigh escaped her soft red lips, a single tear seeming to escape from the corner of her eye. ‘My lord was killed at Acre and many of his people with him. I— I am in some trouble, sir. For I have no one to protect me, though I have family who would take me in if I could but reach France.’

  ‘Celestine…is that truly you?’ Alain turned his
head as he heard another voice and saw that Katherine had joined them. He noticed that her hair was wet, as was her tunic, which clung to her and revealed the budding curves of her young body, curves that had previously been hidden from his gaze. For the first time he was aware of her as a woman. Bryne had been right; she was not a child despite her appearance. But she was looking at the Lady of Charlemagne and she did not seem pleased to see her. ‘What are you doing here? I believed you had accepted the protection of—of the Lord Hubert of Ravenshurst.’

  ‘Katherine!’ Celestine gave a little scream of delight and ran to her at once. ‘My dear child. How are you? Everyone thought you dead. We heard of your poor father’s tragic demise and believed…but I am so pleased to see you.’

  ‘Celestine?’ Katherine gave her an uncertain look. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I was forced to escape,’ Celestine said and bit her full bottom lip. ‘I must tell you that I was terribly deceived in Ravenshurst. He can be charming, but I vow he is an evil man. I have heard such things… No! I must not speak of it, for if he knew I had heard his secrets he would kill me. Pray do not ask me, Katherine, for I cannot bring myself to think of such things.’

  Katherine was silent. Celestine had once been her friend, for they had worked together to tend the wounded during the terrible siege of Acre. Then, when Celestine had chosen to become the Lord Hubert’s companion, she had wondered if it was from her that he had learned of her father’s treasure. She could not be certain that Celestine had known, but she believed that it was possible. Celestine may have heard her father speaking to her or even caught a sight of his writings concerning his discovery, for they had often been left lying on his couch in their pavilion, and the older woman, being a trusted friend, had come and gone as she pleased.

  ‘How did you know where we were?’ Katherine could hear the suspicion in her own voice and regretted it as she saw Sir Alain give her a questing look.

  ‘Come, my lady,’ he chided softly. ‘This lady is in some distress, as you were when I rescued you. The least you may do is to take her to our camp and make sure that she has whatever she needs for her comfort.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Katherine said, her cheeks warm. He thought her unkind and harsh, but he could not know her reasons—nor could she tell him. She bit her lip and looked at Celestine once more. ‘You have no baggage with you?’

  ‘Only a few items I was able to conceal on my person,’ Celestine said. ‘For I should not have been allowed to leave the Baron’s camp had he known what I meant to do. You must not fear me, Katherine. I am not your enemy, though I know Ravenshurst may have been your father’s. I believe there was some quarrel between them, though I do not know the truth of it.’

  Katherine nodded, but made no reply. It was difficult to judge whether she ought to trust Celestine or not. What she said might be true, yet there was something false about her. However, since she was here, and Sir Alain had clearly decided to take her under his protection, there was little she could do other than accept her. At least, she must appear to do so, though she would remain wary.

  Sir Alain was leading Celestine’s horse back to camp, leaving her to bring her erstwhile friend. Katherine noticed that a small leather pouch was slung from the horn of the saddle. Obviously Celestine had not left the Baron’s camp empty-handed. She must have planned her escape carefully—but that did not make her guilty of treachery. Besides, how could she have known where to look for Katherine?

  ‘Where are you going?’ Katherine asked as she turned to look at Celestine. She wondered uneasily if some of her hostility towards the other woman was because of the way Sir Alain had been staring at her. He’d looked as if he were mesmerised, as if he had been struck by love for Celestine—an arrow from the gods of ancient mythology, perhaps?

  Surely she was not jealous? Katherine looked into her heart. Celestine was very beautiful. Even Katherine’s father had remarked on it. He had found her charming, but Katherine had not minded their friendship. At one time she had hoped that they might make a match of it, that her father might find happiness with a second wife, but then Celestine had become the Lord Hubert’s companion. Some might call her his mistress, though Katherine’s father had preferred to think otherwise.

  ‘Celestine would not be so foolish. The Baron is not a man to be trusted, Katherine. Celestine has been left alone in a strange land. She has merely accepted his offer to be her escort on the journey home.’

  That had been in Cyprus, before they had sailed for the shores of Italy. It had not surprised Baron Grunwald at first that the English lord had followed them, for they were all bound in the same direction—but then in Italy had come the offer to buy his treasure and his death had swiftly followed his refusal.

  ‘I hope to find a ship to carry me back to France,’ Celestine told her now in answer to her question. ‘I have dower lands there, Katherine, for my husband settled them on me when we married. Where will you go now that your poor father is gone?’

  Tears stood in those wonderful eyes and she looked genuinely upset. Katherine’s suspicion eased a little. Perhaps she had misjudged the other woman. Indeed, perhaps she was a little jealous. It was unkind of her to harbour such thoughts against Celestine.

  ‘Why did you leave us to join Baron Ravenshurst?’ asked Katherine, thinking it best to have the matter straight between them.

  ‘I have asked myself that question many times,’ Celestine replied and sighed. She shook her head sorrowfully. ‘I fear I am a foolish woman and his smiles and promises turned my head. A woman in my position must marry, Katherine. I could reside quietly on my own lands for a time, but there would always be men who sought to wed me for what I might bring them. I believed Hubert to be the kind of man with whom I might find content—but it was not so. All men are greedy, but some have a code of honour by which they live. I fear Baron Hubert of Ravenshurst is not one of them. He is ruthless and cruel and I was unhappy in his company.’

  ‘Do you believe all men greedy?’ Katherine frowned. ‘My father was not—and nor, I think, is Sir Alain.’

  ‘I spoke as a general rule. You are innocent, Katherine, and have truly known only your father. Therefore you cannot judge. I have lived amongst men and know more of their true natures. Most are greedy, ambitious fools.’

  Her tone and the way her mouth had gone hard and sour shocked Katherine. She was not such an innocent that she did not know such men existed; indeed, she had met several of that ilk on her travels with her father. She had also met good honest men, such as Sir Alain and Sir Bryne. She believed both were generous, decent men of honour. Sir Alain’s was the sweeter nature, though she had noticed that his commands were instantly obeyed, which might mean that he could be very different if he chose. However, she did not think him either greedy or foolish, though perhaps he, like many other men, was blinded by Celestine’s beauty. They did not see beyond her charming smile to the devious nature that lay beneath.

  ‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said slowly. She would keep her thoughts to herself, just as she would reserve judgement on Celestine for the moment.

  ‘But you are right to think Sir Alain better than most,’ Celestine said with a thoughtful glance at her. ‘I am sure we can trust him to get us safely to the ship. But you did not answer my question, Katherine. Where will you go when we reach France?’

  ‘To my uncle. He is the Baron now, but he will do his duty by me.’ Her eyes clouded with grief too recent to have become muted. She did not dislike her uncle, but he was a gruff, blunt man with none of her father’s sensibilities. She would find it hard to live under his roof, but she had no choice. She had no other family and no dowry. ‘There is nowhere else for me.’

  ‘But of course there is,’ Celestine said and smiled at her. ‘If you chose, you could come and live with me as my friend and dearest companion. No, do not refuse me now, sweet Katherine. We have time enough ahead of us and you may tell me when we reach France.’

  Katherine smiled, but made no answer. Celes
tine seemed genuinely to want to help her, but somehow she could not quite believe in her.

  ‘You begin to make a habit of rescuing damsels,’ Bryne said with a wry smile. He glanced towards the two younger ladies, who were walking together in the morning sunlight. ‘But this one is undoubtedly beautiful.’

  ‘What do you think of her story?’ Alain asked and smiled for Celestine’s beauty was overwhelming. ‘Would you say she is telling us the truth—or doth the mystery deepen?’

  ‘It seems a little odd that the ladies know each other,’ Bryne said. ‘But as yet I have not had the opportunity to observe the Lady Celestine.’

  ‘And Katherine?’ Alain’s brow wrinkled in thought. His first sight of Celestine had taken his breath away and yet somewhere in a tiny corner of his mind instinct was telling him to be watchful. ‘Is she the key to this affair, think you?’

  ‘I have suspected something from the beginning, as you know,’ Bryne said. ‘There is something she is concealing, some secret she does not confide in us. I would swear it. Yet I do not think there is malice in her. As for the other one…’ he shook his head ‘… I shall reserve judgement. We are but two hours from Rome, and may consider our duty done once there.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps,’ Alain replied but looked uncertain. ‘Yet I would not have harm come to her…’

  ‘Of whom do you speak?’ Bryne asked and then smiled as he watched the direction of his friend’s gaze, believing he knew. So the wind blew in that quarter, did it? Well, the woman was certainly beautiful, though not to his own taste. ‘You think to see them on their way to France? Or is there something more on your mind?’

  ‘I should feel happier if certain things were made plainer,’ Alain replied. ‘But we shall see what the ladies have to say when we reach Rome itself, Bryne.’

  Alain was thoughtful after he left his friend. It could surely not be mere coincidence that Celestine had ridden their way. And if it had been planned…the lady would bear a little careful watching.

 

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