My Noble Knight

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Griffin clenched and unclenched his hand. It was remarkable how quickly his shoulder had healed after Layne had worked her magic on him. It was tender and sore as if he had received a bad blow, which he had, but he could move it. It should offer no deterrent to winning the joust on the morrow.

  Griffin caught himself looking around the room, his gaze swept past the tables of knights and nobles, past all the women. He caught himself with a sigh of disappointment. She won't be here. He was surprised he had been looking for Layne. He inhaled deeply. She was probably in her tent with her brothers. She had helped him. Even though he had insulted and humiliated her. A pain tightened in his chest. He pushed the thought aside and made his way to the head table; many knights called his name to congratulate him on his victory. He nodded in return. There was a different feel to this joust. He was the brother of the sponsor and was expected to act in a certain way. He couldn’t help feeling more like a host than a participant. He knew he was expected to sit with his family and part of him was glad he would not have to contend with the women nobles pleading with him to sit beside them.

  Gwen spotted him and turned a smile to him as he made his way up the long aisle to the table.

  As Griffin neared the dais, he spotted Talvace speaking to Prince Edward. The long, lanky knight leaned over the table to toward the prince. “It truly is amazing that a man who could so easily be unhorsed is expected to win the tournament.”

  “Perhaps he can now answer for himself,” Edward said, indicating Griffin with a wave of his hand.

  Talvace whirled to him. His eyes grew wide and then narrowed. “Yes! Tell them of the first time you were unhorsed.”

  Trepidation slithered through Griffin. "I find it interesting you should be telling the story when you were not there.”

  “No. No, I wasn’t. Perhaps my facts are wrong. Tell us. Was it really a woman that unhorsed you?” Talvace wondered.

  All those close enough to hear Talvace’s statement turned to Griffin. He wanted to wring the scrawny man’s neck. “There is really nothing to tell. I was unhorsed. Every knight is unhorsed at least once in his lifetime. Some more than others. Isn’t that right, Talvace? Perhaps you should be telling the tale of your disqualification.”

  Talvace ground his teeth, glaring at Griffin.

  Griffin made his way around the table to an empty chair beside Gwen.

  Richard leaned forward to see Griffin. “Is it true? Was it a woman who unhorsed you?”

  Griffin nodded.

  Again, Richard roared with laughter. “What happened? Did she cheat? Did she have a longer lance than you?”

  “No. She abided by the rules of the joust.”

  “All except one,” Talvace said. “I heard she took her brother’s place.”

  Silence spread across the dais as every eye turned to him.

  Griffin tried to remain relaxed as he reached for his ale. Why couldn’t they let it go? “She paid her dues,” Griffin insisted. "She is of no concern any longer.”

  “No concern?” Richard boomed. “She is remarkable. The only one who has ever unhorsed my brother!”

  “You are being ridiculous, Richard. You have done so many times. As have others. De la Noue recently unhorsed me.”

  “Who was she?” Richard continued, ignoring his statement. “What kind of woman was she?”

  He could be so relentless at times. But this time, Griffin was not going to give him what he wanted. He wouldn't throw Layne to these ravenous lions.

  “She is here, Lord Richard, at the tournament,” Talvace announced.

  Annoyance followed quickly by dread spread through Griffin’s entire body. He didn’t want his brother to harass Layne. He didn’t want Richard anywhere near her.

  “Where?” Richard asked, his excited gaze scanning the hall.

  “She will not be here,” Griffin said trying to remain calm and disinterested. He took a drink of his ale.

  “Perhaps,” Talvace agreed. “But her brothers will be here. They are competing in the tournament.”

  Griffin’s jaw tightened. Talvace was enjoying this too much. He knew he had to remain calm. Casual. Like this entire affair meant nothing to him. He shook his head. “The younger boy was injured. Most of the Fletchers will stay with him.”

  "One of them is here tonight,” Talvace countered.

  Richard’s gaze searched the Great Hall. “Where? Where is he?”

  Griffin leaned back in the chair. Let him struggle to find Frances. He wanted no part of this.

  Jacquelyn wrapped her hands around Richard’s arm. “Darling, I want to meet them.”

  Griffin clenched his teeth. What kind of trouble had he brought the Fletchers?

  Richard patted Jacquelyn’s hand. “As do I, my dear. You there!” Richard called one of the servants over. “Find Fletcher and bring him to me.”

  The servant bowed and departed.

  Griffin glanced away from his brother…

  …right into Gwen’s brown eyes. She watched him through narrowed eyes, tapping her lower lip with her finger in a thoughtful manner.

  Griffin felt trapped. He had the distinct impression there was no escape for him. What did Richard want with Layne? What kind of entertainment could she provide him? The appetite he had arrived with vanished.

  “Why would you keep something like this from me?” Richard wondered.

  “I was hardly keeping it from you. It was common knowledge. I knew you would find out eventually. They are a simple family. From the outskirts of Edinfield. Her youngest brother, Michael, was injured protecting her.”

  “Protecting her?” Gwen asked.

  Griffin ignored her thoroughly. He would add no wood to this slow burning fire.

  “How old is he?” Richard wondered.

  “What happened?” Jacquelyn inquired.

  Griffin silently groaned. He glanced at Talvace with a smirk of irritation. “It is a story for another day.”

  “You know them well?” Prince Edward asked.

  “Not well. I traveled with them.”

  Richard’s gaze shifted to the aisle. Griffin followed his stare to see the servant leading Frances up the center aisle. Talvace stepped aside, giving Richard clear view of Frances.

  Frances glanced at Griffin before bowing to Richard. “Lord Richard, I want to express my gratitude to you for hosting this tournament.”

  Richard nodded, but brushed aside his comment with a flick of his hand. “Where is your sister?”

  Frances scowled. “At the pavilion with Colin.” He looked at Griffin. “Like all good women should be.”

  Gwen bridled at the comment.

  Griffin knew the slight was directed at him and he deserved it. He swirled the ale around in his mug, watching the liquid swirl.

  “My brother tells me that your sister unhorsed him,” Richard said.

  Frances’s lips thinned and he cast an accusing glare at Griffin before looking back at Richard. “It’s true, Lord Richard. But she has been properly punished. She realizes what she did was wrong and –”

  Richard leaned forward. “Tell me what happened.”

  Frances swallowed. “I believe the story has been exaggerated and retold so many times, it hardly bears repeating.”

  Richard narrowed his eyes slightly. “Humor me.”

  “Indeed,” Prince Edward agreed. “We would all like to hear the tale.”

  Griffin looked up in time to lock gazes with Frances. He read the panic in the man’s eyes and understood it. It was the same panic that was eating away at the borders of his sanity.

  Richard leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  Frances shifted slightly and wet his lips. “I was supposed to be the one jousting, but during practice I was hit in the head and rendered unconscious.”

  “Pity,” Richard said without much remorse. He encouraged him to continue with a wave of his hand.

  Frances fidgeted more, shuffling his feet, looking down at the rushes.

  Griffin knew he w
as trying to come up with some way to protect Layne. “As I’ve said, Richard, Layne was punished.”

  “I care not for punishment. I simply want a retelling of the story.”

  Griffin locked eyes with Frances and nodded.

  Frances took a deep breath. “Layne dressed in my armor and took the field of honor in my place.”

  Gwen leaned back in her chair. “Hardly befitting of a woman.”

  “Agreed, lady,” Frances said. “But Layne was raised with three brothers. We always included her in our practices and she was adept at wielding a sword and lance.”

  “She is not a knight!” Talvace interrupted.

  “No,” Frances agreed. “When she unhorsed Sir Griffin –”

  “You’re skipping ahead,” Richard interrupted. “Who was her squire?”

  “My youngest brother, Michael. Apparently, she had threatened him into it.”

  “How many passes until she unhorsed my brother?”

  “Three.”

  Richard reared back and slapped the table. He stood. “I must meet her!”

  “Richard,” Griffin objected.

  Gwen stood, also. “I, too, would like a chance to meet her.”

  “Lord Richard,” Frances said, “We’ve paid the dues agreed upon by Lord Dinkleshire. She will not be a problem again. This I assure you.”

  Problem? Griffin glared at Frances. Layne was never a problem. She was in danger and that should be her brother’s concern. “Richard, Layne’s actions have been dealt with. There is no further need for intervention –”

  “Have you spoken to her?” Jacquelyn wondered.

  Spoken to her? He’d done much more than speak with her! He opened his mouth and closed it. When he looked away, he saw Gwen’s shrewd gaze upon him and that infuriating smile of hers. She was finding this much too amusing! “Yes. I have spoken with her.”

  “Sir Griffin instructed her for weeks after the joust in the art of being a woman,” Frances said. “She was under his care.”

  Griffin whipped his head around to glare at Frances. Those were not the words he would have used. This was rapidly spinning out of control.

  “And what does Griffin know of being a woman?” Gwen wondered, staring at him in disbelief.

  “Griffin hardly knows how to treat a lady!” Jacquelyn added, laughing.

  “How on earth did you do that?” Richard roared.

  “I gave her duties. Womanly duties. She was not to touch the weapons or watch practices,” Griffin defended, but now his rules seemed trite and useless.

  “What did these duties entail?”

  Griffin heard the undertone in Richard’s voice. “Carlton was there. Nothing untoward happened.” He looked at Gwen. “She washed the dishes, cleaned up, mended.”

  Talvace chuckled lustily. “How well did she learn?”

  Griffin rose with such force that he knocked his chair over. “You overstep your bounds, Talvace.”

  Frances glared at Talvace, his fists tight.

  “Yes. Yes,” Prince Edward agreed. “We mean no insult.”

  “She’s not under your protection any longer,” Talvace replied through clenched teeth.

  “Griffin.” Richard stood. “Control yourself, brother.” He straightened. “Perhaps you are right. We are all tired from a long day of tourney. And we have more skills to test on the morrow.” He looked at Griffin and then at Frances. “I will meet your sister on the morrow. She can sit beside us, with your brothers of course, during Griffin’s joust.”

  Frances nodded. “Thank you, Lord Richard. We would be honored.”

  Griffin watched Talvace retreat to his seat. Richard sat down. Frances walked to his seat. Griffin searched the room for Carlton, but his squire was nowhere to be found.

  When Gwen rose and moved toward a side exit, Griffin followed her. Trepidation gripped him in a panicked hold. He seized Gwen’s hand. “Please, Gwen,” he whispered. “I don’t want Richard to meet Layne.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows rose in shock. “Why in heaven’s name not?”

  He couldn’t formulate his thoughts or his feelings. He didn’t want Layne humiliated. He didn’t want her hurt. He didn’t want Richard near her. It was absurd, an irrational fear. Was it because of Jacquelyn? Was he afraid Richard would steal Layne as he had Jacquelyn? No. Was he afraid that Richard would harm her somehow? No. Taint her? Maybe. He grit his teeth. “I can’t concentrate on the joust if I must worry about her safety.”

  “Safety? Richard would never harm a woman!”

  “She is not like us. She is noble in name only, not actions.”

  Gwen grinned. “That much is apparent.”

  “Gwen!” Griffin called in a painful voice.

  “What is it you would have me do?”

  Griffin looked at her for a long moment. “Tell one of your ladies’ maids to go to her and have her leave the tournament.”

  Gwen frowned.

  “I will put her up at an inn until it is over.”

  “All in an effort to keep her from Richard?”

  “Richard and Father. Yes.”

  Gwen cocked her head at him. “Are you sure you are not sending her away from you?”

  Her observation caught him off guard, and for a moment he was shocked at the truth in her words.

  “She is a distraction to your skill, isn’t she? And after all, what is more important than winning?”

  He shook his head firmly. “I’ve grown used to protecting her is all. Please, Gwen. Will you do this?”

  Gwen smiled sweetly and patted his hand. “Anything for you, my dearest brother.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  There was something in the way she smiled, a sparkle in her eye, that should have alerted Griffin to the plan she was hatching. But he wanted to believe she would help him and ignored the warning bells going off in his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I can do it,” Michael snapped.

  Layne knelt beside his straw-hewn mattress. She wrapped a bandage around his hand, careful to cover the open wounds. They were healing nicely, but it would still be weeks before he was back to normal. “It’s my duty, remember?”

  “Stop it,” Michael said and shoved her, but not hard enough to really push her away.

  Layne grinned. “They look good. You’ve been careful with them, haven’t you?”

  Michael grunted softly and puffed out his chest. “A man doesn’t need to be careful. It’s just a little cut. Can’t hurt me.”

  Layne tied the cloth over his palm. “Good.” She was glad he was speaking to her again and he was slowly beginning to do everything he used to do, including caring for some of Colin’s weapons. “When I see a man, I’ll be sure to tell him he doesn’t have to be careful.”

  Michael mocked her with a sarcastic grimace and stuck his tongue out.

  The flap on the tent opened and Frances entered, followed by Colin.

  Michael leapt to his feet. “Did you bring us some food?”

  “You’re back early,” Layne commented as she tossed the dirty cloth into a corner pile.

  “I was summoned by Lord Richard,” Frances said.

  Tingles of trepidation danced along Layne’s neck. “What did he want?”

  “Apparently you have captured his interest. He wants all of us to sit with him during Wolfe’s joust tomorrow. Especially you.”

  Layne scowled. “Why?”

  Frances shrugged. “He wants to meet you.”

  Layne couldn’t help the anxiety swirling inside of her. Why? Why would the hosting lord care who she was?

  “I don’t like this,” Colin mumbled.

  “He wanted me to tell the tale of how you unhorsed Wolfe.” Frances sat on his straw mattress. “I tried to make it sound uninteresting, but he wanted the details. How you did it. Why you jousted.”

  “Does he want us to pay more coin as restitution?” Colin wondered.

  “No,” Frances said. “He said it wasn’t about the coin or the punishment. He said he simply wa
nted to meet Layne.”

  Colin glanced at his sister. “Then it was lucky you weren’t there.”

  “Not so lucky. He insists we sit with him tomorrow.”

  Layne stared at the dirt floor. What could Lord Richard want with her? Why during Griffin’s joust? She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. “I don’t think we should go.”

  “We have little choice. He is the sponsor of this tournament. We don’t want to insult him by rejecting his invitation.”

  “Will Prince Edward be there?” Michael asked with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to meet the prince.”

  Frances ruffled his hair. “I’m sure he will be.”

  “It will be exciting to sit in the berfrois,” Michael exclaimed with a glowing face. “It’s the best seat to watch the joust!” He glanced at his older brother. “Right Colin?”

  When Colin didn’t answer, Layne lifted her gaze to see her brother staring at her. “We can’t refuse Lord Richard’s request. But maybe it’s not a good idea for Layne to attend.”

  Their gazes swung to her.

  Layne felt an overwhelming sadness. She would have liked to sit in the berfrois and watch the joust. She would have done almost anything to see Griffin joust again.

  “He will ask to meet her again,” Frances warned. “He might even command it. Or come to the tent himself.”

  “We cannot refuse the invitation and Layne cannot stay here alone,” Colin said. "Not with Osmont here.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Layne insisted, placing her hand over the dagger she kept tucked in her belt.

  Colin inhaled. “I don’t want you here alone. It’s better if you come with us to the berfrois.”

  Layne nodded, but she couldn’t suppress the excitement she felt at the prospect of seeing Griffin joust, nor the unease at having to meet Lord Richard.

  Layne sat on the ground, pulling a needle through Michael’s breeches, mending a rip he had received in the seat. He was growing so quickly. He really needed a new pair of breeches. She sighed softly and her shoulders drooped. Why did a pair of blue eyes pop into her mind at the most inconvenient time? Why did the feel of Griffin’s kiss keep her awake at night? It was no use dwelling on it. Even now she found it hard to concentrate on the simple task of mending a tear.