A Knight for Love

by A. M. Westerling

  She sat up and tried to make her fingers move, tried to rip the hood off her head. Its vile odor made her sick to her stomach.

  Or mayhap it was the babe. She had heard others talk of morning sickness but had never paid it much heed.

  A babe.

  When Emma had first mentioned it, Alyna had rejected it immediately as Emma’s usual prattling. She couldn’t be with child. Or could she? It had been several months since her monthly flux and all her clothes, not just the peacock blue tunic, were becoming snug. Her breasts too, were swollen and tender. Not having a mother to talk to, she had dismissed her symptoms to the rigors of the past few months.

  A babe. Warin’s babe, a gift of life for him. The thought warmed her.

  Footsteps approached from behind and someone fumbled about with the hood before it was ripped from her head. She blinked against the light and the sudden rush of cold air on her face.

  “Here.” A man thrust a chunk of cold bread into her hands.

  “You!” Alyna gasped and a flush of heat surged through her body as she recognized him. Baldric. The traitor who had scorned both her and David in favor of Philippa.

  “Aye,” Baldric sneered.

  “Free me immediately,” she demanded, raising her chin haughtily.

  “Oh? I am master here, not you.”

  “Why have you taken me? I’m no threat to you. I insist you free me immediately.” She tried to keep the fear from her voice, tried to project an assurance she was far from feeling.

  Baldric crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. A mirthless smile flitted briefly across his face. “No threat? On the contrary, you pose the biggest threat.”

  Alyna puzzled on his words. “How so, how does one woman alone do you harm?”

  “Not one woman alone but a woman and her warrior lord. Caperun Keep was my home once but now belongs to your husband and his chosen few.”

  “I, we, didn’t cast you away. You chose to turn your back on us in France. You held a secure position with the Caperun family. You would hold it still for my husband is in need of men and would have welcomed you with open arms.”

  Baldric shrugged. “To play nursemaid to one who had no stomach to go on Crusade didn’t appeal to me.”

  “You speak of David?” Alyna was astonished. “He chose to return to England to safeguard our holdings against Philippa.”

  “Bah, he was weak and not man enough to fight the infidels without the coddling of his father.”

  “You counted David as your friend, how can you speak of him with such hatred?” Pain seared through Alyna’s chest. “He’s dead, how can you betray him still? You’re the weak one, Baldric, you don’t know the value of loyalty.”

  “I’m loyal only to myself.” Baldric shrugged. “I chose to follow another who promised me more.”

  “Where are you taking me?” Alyna changed her attack.

  “To one who yearns for your companionship.”

  “You speak in riddles.” Sudden realization made Alyna’s voice shrill. “Philippa. You still serve Philippa.”

  “Aye. Philippa pledges much.”

  “But we hold the keep now, she can promise you nothing.”

  “Are you so stupid? Think, what better to barter with than a wife gone missing?”

  “You hold me for ransom?” Stunned, Alyna looked down at her hands and the chunk of bread still clutched in them. Her nails stood out in stark contrast to the blue, shriveled skin of her fingers.

  “If Warin is a man, then he won’t easily lose what belongs to him. Rest assured, he’ll come for you.”

  “The jest is yours, for Warin cares naught for me and won’t waste his time in search of me. If he’s the threat to which you refer, then there is none.”

  “Ho, Baldric.” An unfamiliar voice interrupted them and Alyna craned her head to see the interloper.

  Wiry and short in stature, he was unknown to her and she watched warily as he trudged through the snow towards them.

  “Alan. What say you?” Baldric turned away from Alyna.

  “It is just as you suspect, Baldric, de Taillur follows some distance back.”

  “Aye,” Baldric nodded, satisfied. “Are they many?”

  “Nay, only he and two others. A small group, easy enough to defeat.”

  Joy rippled through Alyna. Warin came for her! He could have left her for dead and kept Caperun Keep but nay, he came for her. Did that not mean he cared for her a little?

  “A tempting morsel to be sure.” Alan gazed upon Alyna with rheumy eyes. “What a shame to keep such beauty hidden.” His insolent glance stripped her bare and she shuddered as he perused her from tip to toe.

  “Leave her,” Baldric growled. “There will be time enough later. And you,” he turned back to Alyna. “Eat, you need your strength.”

  Alyna’s first impulse was to pitch the food at his head but prudent thoughts prevailed. The babe, she must keep her strength for the babe.

  She chewed on the frozen bread, watching as Baldric and Alan readied the horses. They were only two, could she escape?

  “Here,” Baldric, on horseback already, plodded over leading a horse. “Get on.”

  Alan helped her mount. Even through her heavy cloak, he fondled her, squeezing her buttocks before he boosted her up. She cringed at the touch. His leering face was the last thing she saw before the hood dropped back over her head.

  “No hood, I beg of you, it’s foul,” Alyna pleaded. To her surprise, after a moment the hood came off.

  “Very well, you don’t know where we are.” Baldric gestured around. “Your chances of survival are better with us than on your own, even you can understand that.”

  Baldric had read her mind and sadly, he was right. Escape was foolish at the moment. Moreover, he kept the reins of her horse securely in his grasp. Resigned, she wound the edges of her cloak about her hands before grasping the pommel.

  They traveled steadily, Baldric in the lead, Alan behind her. Thoughts of the babe in her womb kept her occupied as she rode. From time to time, she glanced about searching for familiar landmarks but none could be seen, only trees and more trees. Alan, in a blatant attempt to needle her, for a time tossed lewd comments to her but she ignored them and so after a while he held his silence.

  She spent a second cold, uncomfortable night in the forest but in the early evening of the third day, a small motte and bailey keep came into view.

  “Ho, who goes there?” A sentry called out as they trotted up the road.

  “Rest easy, Alan and I have returned,” Baldric shouted. “Open the gates!”

  Alyna roused herself and studied the keep as they came closer. The lord was apparently prosperous for the curtain wall behind the motte was newly built of stone, as was the castle residence perched high on the mounded earth within. The flag fluttering over the corner turret was unfamiliar to her but the colors were bold – black on royal blue.

  They clip-clopped across the bridge over the motte, filled not with water but with sharpened stakes. Alyna shuddered as she looked down. One misstep and the end would be unpleasant indeed for both man and beast.

  They passed through the gatehouse and into the bailey, one not nearly as well ordered as that of Caperun Keep. Wattle huts were scattered about with no apparent rhyme or reason, some with smoke coming from the roof hole and others of unknown purpose. Several hollow eyed children gaped from the door of one of the huts as they rode by. Cattle and chickens roamed freely throughout.

  With wry amusement, Alyna noted only the horses were confined, in a sturdy log corral bordered on one side by a stone stable. The lord obviously placed great store on his horseflesh and damned with the rest.

  When they reached the stepped path that climbed up the hillock to the castle, they stopped. The two men dismounted immediately and surrounded her.

  “Get off.”

  She complied with Baldric’s brusque order, landing on the frozen earth with a jolt that jarred her very teeth.

  He seized her by the w
rist and she stumbled as he dragged her up the roughly hewn stone steps. They passed through another, smaller gatehouse and after that, they followed a path bordered on both sides by a tall, wooden palisade. The pointed tops of the palisade timbers were sharp against the sky, resembling teeth.

  As if she entered the mouth of some ferocious beast. She shivered with dread.

  At the top of the steps, the path opened up into another, larger palisade that ringed the castle perched on top of the mound. The castle door was flung open at their approach.

  “You have her.” Philippa’s voice oozed satisfaction as she surveyed the threesome from the small landing jutting out over their heads. With dismay, Alyna realized the entrance could be gained only by climbing the ladder fastened to the landing with pegs.

  “Aye, we have her.” Baldric prodded Alyna in the back.

  “Aye, we have her,” Alan chimed in. “Lady Philippa, you never mentioned your niece is such a pretty piece,” he added with a sly sideways look at Alyna. “It would have made the chase that much more enjoyable.”

  Angered, Alyna deliberately turned her head away and Alan laughed. He climbed up the ten or so rungs and turned about, hands extended.

  “Climb.” Baldric gave her a little push.

  Alyna had no choice but to comply. The wide rungs and shallow angle of the ladder made it akin to climbing a steep narrow staircase. However, she made slow progress for her frozen hands refused to unclench and she had to use her wrists to steady herself. Could the lord not have built a proper staircase, she thought crossly; the castle is newly built.

  When she reached the top, Alan grabbed her by the elbows and pulled her in, taking the opportunity this time to squeeze her breast. On her heels came Baldric and she soon understood the necessity of the ladder for he pulled it up and shut the door, making the castle itself inaccessible. On quaking legs, she stood and gazed about.

  They had entered the first floor of the castle. Half of the space served as storage for weaponry, wooden barrels and sacks of grain, while the other half served as kitchen.

  Her mouth watered at the scent of roasted boar. In the kitchen, a slovenly woman sliced meat and placed it on trenchers. Not all of the meat landed on the trenchers, some of it ended on the floor. Alyna fervently hoped she didn’t get one those slabs, for the woman merely picked them up and, straw covered or not, slapped them on a trencher.

  Alan spoke and she turned to look at him.

  “Welcome to Faulkenburg,” Alan drawled. He stepped back and bowed. “You are a guest of mine and will be treated as such.”

  Alyna stared at him open-mouthed. He was lord and master here? Then why did he aid Baldric and Philippa if he already had lands of his own?

  “Alyna, you appear the fool,” Philippa jeered. “Your travels did naught to improve your manners. Close your mouth.”

  “Your niece is weary, our travels were hard,” Alan snapped. “Chide her not and take her above.”

  Philippa’s eyes narrowed at the imperious tone in Alan’s voice but she did as he asked, leading Alyna upstairs to the great hall. As they walked away, Alyna heard the laughter of Baldric and Alan, a sinister sound that set the hairs on the back of her neck on end and sent goose bumps down her back. Clasping her arms about her waist, she followed her aunt into the great room.

  “There.” Philippa pointed towards a small bench close to the fireplace filling the far end of the hall. She herself sat down at the room’s only, albeit long, table.

  “Thank you,” Alyna whispered as she collapsed onto the bench. Wrapping her cloak about her, she leaned into the heat and held her frozen hands towards the fire. The warmth soothed her and soon her cloak and boots steamed.

  She flexed her fingers and toes against the stinging pain as the feeling began to return. A distant part of her mind noted the Yule log did not burn here and she wondered about that. Were these pagans, then, who didn’t celebrate Christmas?

  Violent shivers wracked her body and she didn’t notice Alan and Baldric had entered the room until Philippa spoke.

  “Does de Taillur come?” asked her aunt in a low voice as those two settled across from her.

  Their backs were to Alyna and she barely managed to follow the conversation.

  “Aye, he follows the scent of his wife like a bear to the kill,” Alan replied.

  “Is he alone?”

  “Nay, two others travel with him.”

  “I want what is mine,” Philippa said fiercely. “He travels too slowly for my taste.”

  “Patience.” Alan chuckled at her ardor. “De Taillur is a warrior and will suspect a trap. He’ll be careful but,” he tapped the table top, “he will come for her eventually.”

  Baldric snorted. “I say kill him now.”

  “And draw the king’s notice? Nay.” Alan shook his head. “De Taillur will suffer an unfortunate accident, one that can’t be traced to us.”

  “And the Lady Alyna?”

  “She’ll share the same fate but,” he paused and looked over at the figure huddled beside the fire, “at a time of my choosing.”

  “Oho,” Baldric chortled. “The woman interests you.”

  “A beautiful face is always pleasing to look upon.” Alan’s tone was matter of fact.

  “You think to tame her?” Baldric asked.

  Philippa cackled. “She won’t be tamed,” she announced.

  “She’ll be glad enough of my company when her husband lives no longer.”

  Philippa shrugged. “So you think but I say she’s not worth the trouble. Kill her sooner rather than later.”

  “You tell me what to do?” Alan’s voice became suddenly ugly.

  “Not at all.” Philippa wasn’t cowed. “I only question why you would want a child when you have a woman already.” She obviously referred to herself.

  “True,” Alan shrugged. “But there’s always one more dish to sample at the feast.”

  “Oh!” Alan’s comment didn’t please Philippa and her tone became nasty. “Take your pleasure with her then but leave me the satisfaction of doing away with her.”

  “Jealous, dear Philippa?” Alan mocked. “Don’t forget you too are a guest of mine and as such,” he reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, “you’re at my mercy.”

  “You don’t frighten me,” she hissed, yanking her arm back. “Caperun Keep will belong to me. You could kill me but that will surely bring Henry’s wrath upon you.” She leaned forward and looked Alan straight in the eyes. “I vow, if harm befalls me, I will curse you from the grave and I will find a way to make the truth known to Henry. And if I am dead, he will claim Caperun Keep and you are left with only Faulkenburg. Do you think once the king realizes you’re guilty of murder that even Faulkenburg will remain in your hands? Nay,” she shook her head then clasped her hands together. “Together we are strong. Isn’t that what you’ve told me many times over the past weeks? Don’t let weakness for another woman spoil our plans now.”

  Satisfaction crept into Alan’s voice. “That is what draws me to you. You fear nothing.”

  “You would be wise to remember that, Alan of Faulkenburg. I have powers you can only guess at.” Philippa stood. “Where is the serving woman? I’m hungry.” She strode away.

  Baldric remained silent during this exchange. When Philippa had disappeared, he exchanged glances with Alan then shrugged. “She’s a formidable foe.”

  “Do you think she’s a witch?” Alan asked Baldric.

  “Nay.” Baldric shook his head. “Only a woman scorned who has lost all and has naught else to lose.”

  “Still,” Alan mused. “A witch would be careful to hide her work.”

  “She’s no witch,” Baldric declared. “In my time with her I didn’t see anything showing her to practice witchcraft.”

  “As you say.” By the dubious tone of Alan’s voice, he remained unconvinced.

  The serving woman finally arrived with the trenchers of boar and the conversation came to a halt. A few other men trickled into the h
all for the meal but Alyna soon realized Faulkenburg wasn’t a large holding. They didn’t invite her to join the others at the table and so she remained on the bench.

  The food satisfied her and she licked her fingers clean. All feeling had returned to her hands and feet, the fire warmed her, and for the first time in days, she was physically content.

  Mentally, however, was another matter. Alyna had heard enough to realize that she and Warin were in great danger. Fear crept through her on silent feet.

  They planned to use her as bait to ambush him. How could she warn him?

  Chapter Twenty

  “It’s small but well fortified,” Warin observed. From the shelter of the woods, he, Bennet and Gerard gazed upon the motte and bailey keep. From where they stood, they had watched as Baldric and another man dragged Alyna up the stepped path.

  He had never felt so impotent as the moment Alyna had disappeared into the tower. Was she unharmed?

  “Do you think they know we’re here?” Bennet asked.

  “Aye,” Warin growled. “The tracks we found yesterday morning were fresh. Someone doubled back to spy on our camp. They know we’re here and they know our number.”

  “They chose their target carefully,” Gerard commented.

  “I suspected Baldric. He’s a traitor to the Caperun family. Doubtless Philippa is involved but I don’t know the other man.”

  “My lord, what do we do?”

  Warin sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Lady Alyna is inside and to attack the tower would be risky for her. And the time to mount a siege proper, it could take months….” His voice trailed away as he kept his gaze focused on the keep. Fear for her safety twined through his mind like a serpent, making it difficult for him to center his thoughts.

  “Approach them, my lord,” Gerard suggested. “Mayhap they seized her in error.”

  “It was no error,” Warin replied. “And I doubt words can sway them.”

  “If nothing else, my lord,” Bennet added, “it shows the Lady Alyna we are here.”

  Bennet had a point. Somehow Alyna must know he was here for her. Besides, if they granted him access, he could assess the enemy defenses from within the bailey.