A Knight for Love

by A. M. Westerling

  Alyna. He listened to her breathe, deep and even and calm.

  Now came a new fear – could he grow to love her too much? Was she the ultimate irony? Would he find the peace of mind he sought only to have it snatched away by some cruel fate? Snatched away, taken from him as his family had been taken?

  Suddenly fearful, he held her even closer, nuzzled his chin into the feathery soft curls.

  Nay, fate would not whisk her away. He would not allow it.

  Alyna belonged to him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Autumn must have brushed her ethereal fingers over the earth for seemingly overnight her colors cloaked the land. When they had ridden into London, the forests were still lush and green but now shades of gold and scarlet covered them, the colors so brilliant they fair pierced the eyes against the crisp blue of the autumn sky.

  Alyna sucked in a lungful of clean air, thankful to be gone from the odors of the city. Was it her imagination or were the colors a little more intense today? Or was it just that her senses were so keenly tuned after the physical awakening of the previous night? Whatever the reason, a happy little smile played on her lips and a contented glow emanated from every pore.

  For that, she had to thank Warin. Every now and again she glanced at him, in awe and total disbelief that he was now her husband, both in word and in deed. Aye, she was sore between her legs but it made her feel as if he had marked her as his own.

  She rode at Warin’s side. Close behind them jingled the bridle of Bennet’s horse, and behind him some distance, the muffled hoof beats of the company of men provided by King Henry for the recapture of Caperun Keep.

  Stalwarts all, they numbered some two and twenty. Their voices lifted in sporadic song, peppered with lewd comments and shouts of laughter. Her cheeks flamed as she caught some of the words but they meant no harm and she didn’t take offense.

  Gradually the road became less traveled and the land became less cultivated until they rode through never ending woods. They stopped for the night beside a creek chuckling its way along moss-covered stones and through frond-bedecked banks.

  “We halt here.” Warin held up his hand and signaled to the company of men. Bennet pulled up just behind Alyna.

  “A pretty spot,” remarked Alyna.

  “Pretty or not, we’re well attended with the king’s knights. These are dangerous times and travelers can be readily attacked.”

  “Aye,” agreed Bennet, customary smile showing through the unruly beard. “We rest easy for tonight there is safety in numbers.”

  Alyna, somewhat surprised at their comments, glanced at them. Up until now, neither Warin nor Bennet had seemed overly concerned with their wellbeing on their journeys. On the contrary, they had appeared to prefer their little threesome, often taking the hidden path or the way less traveled. She had assumed they had a preference to keep to themselves but perhaps it had been to avoid drawing unwanted attention to them.

  Determined to puzzle on that a bit further, she slid off her horse and wandered over to sit beside the creek, dipping her fingers in and smoothing the cool wetness over her cheeks to refresh her.

  It appeared they would spend the night in relative comfort, for a tent materialized out of nowhere, carried by the small troop accompanying them. Soon several campfires dotted the little clearing and the air rang with shouts and laughter.

  “It’s not Westminster but tonight you and Warin shall sleep in comfort.” Bennet gestured towards the tent as he sat down beside her.

  “Bennet?”

  “Aye, Maid Alyna – er, Lady Alyna?”

  “Our travels before – were we in peril?”

  Bennet slanted a sideways glance at her. “What is in the past is in the past,” he replied. “We sit here now, our time on earth is not over.”

  “Aye, but I don’t understand the concern for we ride in the safety of our own country.”

  “It’s not the location so much as the circumstances. Before, all thought you a lad. Now it is known you’re a woman. True, you ride with your husband but you provide a target for any who might wish him ill.”

  “Target!” she scoffed. “This is a marriage of convenience only. My husband isn’t concerned with my welfare in the slightest.” Despite the pessimistic comment, she liked the flow of the words on her lips – my husband. My husband.

  She cast her gaze about, finding the tall figure standing at the far side of the clearing deep in conversation with Gerard, the leader of the king’s men.

  “Lady Alyna, already I know Warin to be true and a defender of the weak. He would not take lightly the loss of someone who relies on him for protection.” Bennet’s voice was firm in its certainty. “You are now his wedded wife and as such he bears the burden of your safe being. And Lady Alyna,” he tapped her gently on her nose, “don’t forget he cared for you before whilst he thought you a lad. That is the manner of man he is.”

  Alyna cocked her head and gave her full regard to Bennet. The kindly eyes twinkling at her and the beard split with his familiar smile gave her confidence to speak her mind. “Bennet, do you think he’ll grow to love me?”

  “Verily, Alyna, how could he not love one as fair as you?”

  She smiled at the compliment, so obviously spoken to allay her apprehensions. It wasn’t the answer she sought but it would have to do. She would have much preferred a comment on her character, not her features. Ah well, she would have to prove she was worthy of earning and keeping Warin’s love. A challenge she could easily accept.

  “I thank you for your kind words, Bennet.”

  “I speak naught but the truth,” he replied gallantly, getting to his feet and sweeping her a grand bow.

  She giggled as he made a parody of almost falling over. Such a sweet man, an asset to any man who claimed him as friend.

  “Bennet!” Warin hailed. “We need you, come hither!”

  “Alas, I cannot tarry longer, Lady Alyna.” A sorrowful expression crossed Bennet’s face and he clasped his hands to his heart with great exaggeration. “That I could drink of your pure nature a while longer.” He heaved his shoulders and let loose with a mighty sigh. “My duties….” He let the words trail away and waved vaguely in the direction of Warin, rolling his eyes skyward.

  “Silly one.” Alyna giggled again. “Warin calls, of course you must attend.”

  “Silly one! My lady, you wound me greatly with your foolish words.” He winked at her and turned to walk away but not before adding one last comment, “But all is forgiven if you look favorably upon me, warted gnome that I am.”

  She laughed out loud, peals of laughter that caused Warin to pause in his discussion with Gerard and turn to look, first at her, then at Bennet. He didn’t look pleased with the interruption so she smothered her laughter with her hand.

  A smile lingered on her face as she thought of Bennet again. Warted gnome, really, how self effacing. Although not blessed with an impressive physique and handsome features, Bennet was not ugly to look upon. Quite the opposite, in fact. His light-hearted, easy manner and good nature brought a pleasing cast to his face. Mayhap face was too broad a term, for a beard covered most of it. Eyes, then. His eyes were gentle, the perfect reflection of his soul.

  She watched him as he strutted away with his peculiar bandy-legged gait, almost as if he rolled from side to side on a tilting board.

  Lost in a pleasant reverie after Bennet’s kind words, she didn’t notice that Warin continued to glower at her.

  The lingering smile softening Alyna’s face didn’t please Warin at all, for it had not been directed at him, but rather at Bennet. He switched his gaze to Bennet as he approached. That one’s face was totally innocent, innocent as a newborn babe and Bennet’s eyes met his squarely. Not a hint of intrigue darkened them.

  Warin shook his head. What was wrong with him, he thought, why were his suspicions aroused over what he knew to be a totally innocent exchange? He had been witness to the entire conversation between Alyna and Bennet. Nothing untoward had been
said, he was certain of that.

  “Warin? Is aught amiss?” Bennet’s face was puzzled as he walked up to him. He looked past Warin and sketched a brief salute to Gerard, then returned his gaze to Warin’s angry face.

  Warin shook his head. “Nay.” He compressed his lips and struggled for composure against the possessive rage threatening to consume him.

  “You fret on Alyna,” Bennet guessed shrewdly. He took a step back, out of arm’s reach.

  “Nay.” The denial was swift, certain and a lie for all that. What could he say, that he wanted to make Alyna laugh as Bennet had, that he wanted her to smile at him the way she had at Bennet? He, Warin, was a warrior, not a lovesick slave.

  “She worries you’ll find her a burden.”

  Aye, Warin thought to himself grimly. She is a burden. A burden in that he wanted to please her but knew not how. Aloud he said, “She’s no burden.”

  “Then mayhap you should tell her that.”

  He ignored Bennet’s comment and pushed his thoughts away from Alyna, back towards Gerard and the other men. “Come, we have matters to discuss.”

  “Of course.” Bennet dipped his head, hiding the grin on his face. His lady, for he already thought of her as his lady, would be well pleased to know that jealousy simmered beneath the unrelenting exterior. Surely love lagged not far behind!

  *****

  The three, Warin, Gerard and Bennet, hunkered down at the far end of the clearing, where the trees grew thickest and masked the sky. Their talk centered on the strategy required upon arrival at Caperun Keep.

  Gerard was knowledgeable on siege warfare and between him and Warin, they put together a plan of attack. The first tactic would be to approach Philippa and her henchmen directly. If Philippa chose to ignore the order of the king and not vacate peacefully, then a siege would be mounted.

  Secretly Warin hoped that force would be needed to recapture Caperun Keep for only active warfare would clear his head of the jealousy and irrational fears circling in his mind. Accordingly, he initiated discussion on the impending clash.

  “What do you think, Gerard,” he began. “Gain entry by tunnel or by siege tower? Attack the gate or collapse the walls?” One factor he must consider, though, was that if it came to siege, he didn’t wish to destroy too much of the castle itself or it would have to be repaired.

  “It depends on the number of men inside,” replied Gerard. He sat back easily on his heels, a veteran of many campaigns. The prospect of battle did not scare him judging by the calmness of his voice and the clearness of the blue eyes beneath his wiry red fringe.

  “I’ve seen the castle,” Warin mused. “The structure itself is not overly large, limiting the number of defenders inside. Do you agree Bennet? You’ve seen it as well.”

  Bennet nodded.

  “Then mayhap we would be well served by gaining access and fighting within,” Gerard suggested. “The easiest way of that is by ladder.”

  “Aye, ladders, the walls of the keep aren’t that high. But that method is also the most dangerous for our men,” Warin warned. “We’d be exposed to anything they choose to rain down on our heads.”

  “Aye. Burning pitch and stones aren’t the welcome we want,” Gerard chuckled. “But my men are strong and well-trained, and not easily dissuaded. Plus, if need be, a catapult could provide a counter attack. A few rotting carcasses tossed over the walls would be an unpleasant surprise that, with luck, could start a pestilence. If sickness doesn’t fell them then we could progress to something more substantial. Say, a siege tower or trebuchet.”

  Warin nodded. “The catapult is a fine suggestion. Any attempt to recover the keep with the least amount of damage is most favorable to me. It's true that damage can be repaired but it does leave us vulnerable to reprisal until the walls are whole again.”

  “The vanquished could return to recover that which was lost,” Gerard countered, “but it’s not always immediate. Sometimes they need time to retaliate.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to first capture the castle without worrying of the consequences?” Bennet’s voice was half-shrewd, half jocular; his eyes were guileless.

  Gerard looked at Bennet and dipped his head in agreement. He then shifted his gaze towards Warin. “I don’t know your enemy, Warin. Mayhap the parlez would be sufficient and battle won’t be needed.”

  “It will come to blows,” growled Warin. “Philippa is a cunning woman and will not relinquish freely that which she now holds. She’ll not yield without a fight.” Unconsciously his fists clenched and his mouth twisted. He was ready for the fight. He was ready to fight for himself and for Alyna to recover her keep.

  No, our keep, he corrected himself. By the king’s gracious hand, it had become his. He drew himself up even straighter. He would not fail her.

  “Who is this woman, Philippa? From your words she is the very scourge of the earth,” Gerard remarked, rubbing his knuckles thoughtfully across his clean-shaven jaw. Puzzlement etched his face. “Hell’s hounds, a woman isn’t the usual opponent.”

  “She’s Alyna’s widowed aunt, left in charge of the Caperun lands whilst Alyna, her brother and father went on Crusade. Alyna returned to find Philippa securely ensconced in the castle and denying any knowledge of her niece.”

  If Gerard thought it odd that Alyna had left the castle, he did not comment but only said, “A malevolent woman can be a rigid foe.”

  “Agreed,” interjected Bennet. “And one who has already lost a home will not take lightly the loss of another one.”

  “Verily, Bennet, but the woman is Alyna’s kin. I don’t wish her harm, I merely wish to gain what is now mine.” Warin drummed his fingers on his knee. “Sooner rather than later.”

  Bennet shuddered and shook his head. “The fates tell me that she’ll not see it as such. In her mind, Caperun Keep belongs to her and her alone.”

  “Aye,” Warin agreed, resignation ripe in his voice. He sat silent for a moment and then said, “We do as you say, Gerard. We try the parlez. If not successful, then we build a catapult and launch an assault with whatever we can find – stones, dead animals, fallen trees. Then we wait a few more days and attempt to scale with ladders. If God is with us, our enemies will be weakened and we can readily scale the walls.”

  “Or ram the main gate? Wouldn’t that be safer than scaling the walls?” Bennet asked. “The roadway is broad enough that a ram could be easily maneuvered. If housed within a frame of hides, it provides protection to those who would man it.”

  Warin shrugged his shoulders and looked at him, then at Gerard. “A battering ram. The keep is surrounded by forest, a large tree would be easy enough to find. What think you on that, Gerard?”

  “It would get us inside the bailey, mayhap quicker than over the walls,” Gerard replied thoughtfully. “Of course, either way, they’ll barricade themselves within the castle, lasting as long as does the food and water. Is there a well within the castle walls?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask Alyna.”

  “Food,” Gerard continued, “will be difficult for them to replenish without access to the gardens and livestock within the bailey, for of course we would hold that.”

  “Aye,” Warin nodded. “But bear in mind we will face a barrage of arrows. Not to mention slops and boiling oil if we get too close.”

  “A well-placed shield can counter the arrows. As for the others, keep your distance,” Bennet said confidently.

  “True. But if they do not yield, sooner or later we must storm the castle entrance.”

  “Facing an enemy weakened by starvation,” Gerard said.

  “Sometimes the desperate animal is the most dangerous.” Warin’s voice was firm. “But you speak true, Gerard. By that time, those within will be weak.”

  He fell silent. In truth, he had no intention of letting the situation run longer than a month or two for he didn’t want his new wife to face the winter camped out in a tent. He wanted her safely lodged within her rightful home.

  Furthermore,
his intuition told him the defenders would be weak, not of illness or starvation, but of will and desire and would not have the stomach for a long and bitter fight.

  “Enough,” Warin said abruptly. “Once we arrive at Caperun Keep, we can see which plan best fits our purpose.” He waved Gerard and Bennet away and turned on his heel, eyes searching for the figure of Alyna.

  She was nowhere to be seen.

  A frisson of fear brushed his spine before he spied her coming around the tent, wiping her hands on her skirts.

  “Alyna!” He called out to her, hard pressed to hide the pleasure in his voice. She had obviously taken the time to refresh herself in the little stream for her face was pink with cold and a few crystalline droplets clung to the few strands of hair that had sprung free of her scarf.

  “Aye, my lord?” Her tone was gay, her manner free. She tilted her head and smiled up at him. His heart leapt at the invitation in her eyes and he had to forcibly jam his fists into his pockets to stop himself from seizing her and kissing her senseless there and then.

  “Come,” he commanded, waving her over to sit by the camp fire closest to their tent. Someone had placed an upended log beside it and he gestured for her to sit down.

  “How have you fared this day?” He asked the question as if they had been husband and wife for nigh on ten years rather than only a single night.

  “Very well,” she replied, smiling up at him. “The king’s knights are a jolly lot. They tell me the tent is to be ours to share? How thoughtful. And a deer has been felled for our supper tonight.” She pointed to the spitted chunks of venison dripping fat into the flames, droplets sizzling as they disappeared in the heat. “I vow nothing has smelled finer for my stomach begs for food.”

  “Aye.” Warin inclined his head. His stomach growled at the aroma of roast venison. But he had something to do before they could eat. “Wait here, my lady Alyna, I have a gift for you.”

  Alyna watched him walk away, towards the hobbled horses grazing behind the tent. He disappeared from her sight for a moment, only to reappear carrying his saddlebags. He dropped them at her side and then scuffled about inside first one, then the other before pulling something out.