Secrets Of The Knight

by Julia Latham

  But the fact that Winslow was also absent turned Tom’s uneasiness into anger. Was Winslow so determined to keep them apart that he’d kidnap Diana?

  Riding always soothed Diana’s restless thoughts. The mechanics of guiding a horse through hilly terrain required a concentration that took her away from herself, let her thoughts churn in the background, instead of obsessing over them.

  The day was cold, the wind smarted her cheeks, but the exertion of riding warmed her stiff muscles. And the scenery was beautiful, a long, sloping valley leading up to the flat tops of the moors. Here and there she could see bonfires in the farmers’ fields, and knew that all were celebrating Twelfth Night, the last day of the Christmas holiday.

  After several hours riding along the winding bank of the River Swale, deeper into the wooded heart of the dale, she turned around to go back—

  And saw four cloaked men on the trail behind her. Diana reined her mount to a halt and waited, her hand at her waist where her dagger was concealed. She hadn’t thought to strap a sword to her saddle, hadn’t meant to leave Kirkby land, but somehow her ride had gone on longer than she’d meant it to.

  Each man watched her somberly, their cloaks thrown back to show the broad chests and thick arms of warriors. She met their gazes, lifting her chin.

  “Gentlemen, are you following me?” she finally asked.

  “Mistress Diana.” The blond man who spoke rode out several paces before the others, speaking her Christian name not as a question, but as a certainty.

  “Aye,” she said, because what was the point of denying it? “What is your business with me?”

  He lifted a hand to his throat, and she found herself stiffening, hand on her hidden dagger, wondering what he hid beneath his cloak. But he only reached under the neckline of his shirt and pulled out a familiar medallion on a chain.

  They were members of the League of the Blade.

  The air went out of her lungs in a rush, and the tension in her shoulders eased. “You are looking for me, Sir Knight?”

  “I am Sir David,” he said impassively, not offering his surname, as was League custom. “We received your missive.”

  “Why have you come to find me? Do you not believe I have fulfilled the terms of my assignment?” She hoped he’d deny it, saying how well she’d done, and that they were prepared to accept her back.

  Instead, Sir David said, “We need to discuss it.”

  That was not a good sign. “And I do not suppose that you wish to get out of the cold by accompanying me back to Kirkby Keep?”

  The knight shook his head. “We know of a nearby farm, tucked away up the valley, that has been long abandoned.”

  “It sounds warm,” she said dryly.

  He lips curved in a ghost of a smile. “We will make it so. Will you accompany us?”

  She had no choice. They had identified themselves as Bladesmen, and knew about her assignment. She rode to join them, moving into the lead at Sir David’s side. For another hour no one spoke, as the horses climbed higher up a winding path. It was a good thing that Diana didn’t mind silence. These four quiet men could have unnerved another woman.

  But she was a Bladeswoman. She was one of them. The fierce pride in her accomplishments could not be denied. She could not give this up. She wanted to help people who had no one else to turn to.

  At last they reached the cottage, and although the door hung crookedly from its leather hinges, the window shutters were still closed and the earthen floor was dry. One man began a fire with the tinder and wood left behind, and the other two went searching for more wood.

  Sir David stood with Diana before the small fire.

  “Am I allowed to speak of my mission before your men, as well as you?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I would appreciate if you would wait for their return so that we may all hear together.”

  She stood at his side and silently stared into the fire, feeling the comfortableness of two people sharing the same goals. He was so much taller than he’d seemed on the horse. She thought his hair must brush the dried herbs still hanging from the ceiling beams.

  At last, all four men were gathered. They found a lopsided stool for her, and two crude benches for themselves, and soon they were all seated, warming up before the welcome fire.

  Sir David said, “We received your missive, and my superiors are grateful for your detailed report on Lord Bannaster. His attempts to improve himself are laudable, but…”

  “But?” Diana echoed. Had they discovered her foolish kidnapping of Tom?

  “But…although you give us plenty of opinions, with facts to back them up, your wording suggests that you cannot be considered objective where Lord Bannaster is concerned.”

  Sir David looked a bit embarrassed, as if he was repeating a message he did not find easy to discuss.

  “But if I’ve given the facts, and you believe them, then how am I not being objective?”

  “My superiors are concerned that you and Lord Bannaster have developed a relationship.”

  She eyed him, trying not to take offense, trying to think through her answers. “We have, although I do not yet know how it will be between us. Are you saying it was obvious in my missive?”

  “Not obvious, but my superiors were concerned that—”

  “Let me address their ‘concerns.’ I have fallen in love with Lord Bannaster, that is true.” She could not believe she was saying the words aloud to strangers, when she hadn’t even said them to Tom. But they felt so right. “But the reason I did so, was because he’s a good man. He had a hard life, raised by a zealous family to be a priest. He has been suspected of the terrible crime of killing his brother, which he didn’t commit. Your superiors know who did.” She did not bring up her own responsibility, for it was the League’s decision to decide who should know. “He had to learn to be a knight and viscount all at once, quickly, with no training in his youth. He has made mistakes. We can all say the same. But he has learned from them, and not become bitter. He approaches everything in life with determination, and he is loyal to his king. Did you know that he even helped all the women his brother harmed?”

  Sir David studied her, his mouth not quite a smile. Diana thought he might actually approve of her, even though she was defending Tom more than might be necessary. She noticed that two of the men nodded to each other.

  “Your arguments are persuasive, Mistress Diana. I plan to recommend to the League that your report about Lord Bannaster be the last one necessary.”

  “He can be trusted, Sir David, by both the League and our king.”

  “And how did he react when he learned of your mission for us?”

  “He does not know.”

  Sir David nodded. “That is as it should be.” He slapped a hand on his thigh as he looked to his men. “Could you see to the horses, and to disguising our presence here? I have a last message for Mistress Diana that is to be given in private.”

  Diana blinked as, unquestioningly, the other three men left the cottage. She turned back to Sir David, who looked almost…uncomfortable.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  He sighed and returned his serious gaze to her. “I did not want to speak in front of the others, because you have satisfied your assignment for the League. But personally, I am worried about how your relationship with Lord Bannaster will be affected—and how that will affect you. There are those who say that the League’s secrecy must be honored in every way. But I have heard rumors of marriages among us withering because of rigid adherence to this doctrine of secrecy, even among spouses. If you love Lord Bannaster, and he you, you might want to think about what you’re keeping from him.”

  Inside her, her heart constricted, but she had to be strong. “It would be a betrayal of the League.” She spoke simply, from the center of her beliefs.

  Sir David looked at the fire and said, “Secrets in a marriage usually fester and worsen over time. Does he know about your involvement in the League?”

 
She was not tempted to lie. If she wanted to be a Bladeswoman, she had to speak the truth. “Due to my involvement in his brother’s death, he deduced my League membership. But he is the king’s cousin, and he would never—”

  Sir David held up a hand. “I am not questioning Lord Bannaster’s loyalty. My mission is to discuss you. Speaking as a man, not a Bladesman, I suggest you think long and hard before marrying a man who does not know he was the subject of your assignment. And of course, if someone asks you what I said, I will deny it all.” His mouth twitched in a smile.

  Diana said nothing, her eyes burning as she looked into the fire.

  “Thank you for your honesty, Sir David,” she said at last, rising to her feet. “I will consider your words. Now I have to leave before it grows too dark to travel.”

  When the fire was put out, and the cottage left as they’d found it, Diana mounted her horse. The Bladesmen stood respectfully watching her, and she felt again that surge of pride and satisfaction. She had acquitted herself well, had not gotten angry or defensive with their personal questions. And if the League thought her answers were not to their satisfaction, then she’d done all she could. She bowed her head to Sir David and his companions, then guided her horse in a circle and down the lane, heading for home.

  Several hours later, when she was near the village, she was spotted by some of her tenants, who looked shocked to see her. They’d been running from the direction of the keep, and that made her heart pick up pace in unease. She trotted the last distance down the hillside to the village green, with its squat stone cottages perched on the slopes above the River Swale.

  The two people who’d come from the keep spoke to others, and then a woman walked swiftly toward Diana. She recognized the woman immediately as the local brewer.

  “A happy Twelfth Night to you, Matilda,” Diana said.

  “The same to you, Mistress Diana,” the woman said, struggling now to catch her breath. Her pale face had splotches of excited color. “Forgive my boldness, mistress, but while ye’ve been gone, there’s been a terrible quarrel at Kirkby Keep. I fear your brother and Lord Bannister will come to blows soon! The lads have come from the castle to say that men are donning armor, and ’twill not be used for training.”

  “My thanks, Matilda,” Diana said with urgency. “Tell the villagers that there will be no battle today.”

  Chapter 21

  Tom was dressed for a winter’s ride into the village to find Winslow and Diana, when the baron and his men-at-arms returned. Tom marched across the snow-covered ward toward the stables, his fury boiling his blood. He knew Diana, and she would have fought her brother if he’d tried to steal her away. By God, if he’d harmed her—

  Winslow was just outside the stables, talking to his men, when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Tom approaching. His expression changed from wariness to anger.

  “Where is Diana?” Tom demanded.

  Winslow faced him, hands on his hips, close to the hilt of his sword. “What are you talking about, Bannaster?”

  “She has been missing most of the day. Her groom said she’d gone for a ride alone, and she has not returned. Coincidentally, you were gone at the same time.”

  Winslow glanced between his men, an amused smile tilting his lips. “So she has rejected you.”

  “By leaving her own home?” Tom asked incredulously. “She is a strong woman. She would have told me to my face if she wanted nothing more to do with me. I think you’ve tried to force your opinion on her.”

  “Leave my sister to me. It is obvious that you believe there is more between the two of you than she does.”

  Tom felt a momentary pang of uncertainty. Could Winslow be right? But nay, he remembered Diana in his arms, the way she’d come to comfort him last night. A woman did not offer herself if she didn’t feel something. He would convince her that they were in love.

  If he got the chance.

  “I think you are interfering, Winslow,” Tom said. “Diana is a grown woman who deserves the chance to decide her own future.”

  “As you’ve given other women that chance in the past?” Winslow said with a sneer.

  Tom punched him hard in the jaw, and Winslow flew backward. Only his man catching his arm kept him from tumbling into a snow bank.

  Tom stepped closer, ignoring Winslow’s soldiers who reacted defensively, hands on their swords, several beginning to unsheathe them.

  “I care not what you say about me,” Tom said, “but the things you’ve done to your sister are beyond the bounds of decency.”

  Winslow snarled, “For assaulting me, Bannaster, I challenge you to defend yourself as a knight!”

  “I will—and gladly. Don your armor, sir, for I shall not use a dulled sword. I will force you to tell me where your sister is.”

  Tom stalked to the armory, a wooden structure built against the curtain wall near the tiltyard. A dozen people came behind, talking excitedly. More would soon follow, he knew, but he did not care.

  Talbot caught up with him. “My lord, is this battle wise?”

  “You heard him. He will not tell me where Diana is. If I have to humiliate him before his people, I will.”

  “Do you think he has harmed her?” Talbot said, opening the door to the armory.

  Tom unbarred several shutters and opened them, letting in light. “He is not a fool. He merely wants his way. Where is the armor I’ve been using?”

  Talbot held up breast and back plates. “But should you not wear more protection?”

  “I’ll take the gorget around my neck and the gauntlets for my hands, but I do not think more will be necessary. I’ve heard of his lack of skill.

  Comes from lack of practice, the fool. He’ll tell me what I want to know before long.”

  When he was ready, Tom strode out of the armory and came up short. The tiltyard was lined with spectators, two and three deep though snow was beginning to fall. More people were coming down through the inner ward from the gatehouse. How quickly had news of this foolishness spread across the countryside?

  Winslow was already waiting at the tiltyard, and he wore more armor than Tom, vambraces on his arms, pauldrons covering his shoulders, tassets draped over his abdomen and hips. Tom thought Winslow looked discomfited to see his opponent so lightly dressed. But Winslow said nothing, only narrowed his lips.

  Tom held his own helm beneath his arm. “Are you prepared to reveal Diana’s location?”

  Winslow’s answer was to don his helm. Tom did the same. Talbot handed him his sword, and he went out to face Diana’s brother.

  When Diana rode beneath the gatehouse, she was shocked by how deserted the inner ward looked. No children chased geese or rolled toy hoops, no dairymaids carried buckets of milk into the Keep. Even the blacksmith’s anvil was silenced. Snow was falling softly, blanketing everything.

  A cheer rose up from the rear of the ward, and her stomach took a sickening twist. That had come from the tiltyard. But she didn’t hear the sound of sword fighting. Panicked that she might be too late to have prevented an injury, she urged her horse into a gallop and raced past the stables. A crowd had gathered about the tiltyard, blocking it from view. Boys dangled from the few trees planted near the garden, and they leaned out for a better view between the bare branches.

  Suddenly, Diana realized that Cicely stood in the lady’s garden, well cloaked and hooded, but far enough away that she couldn’t possibly see what was happening on the tiltyard.

  “Cicely!”

  Her sister lowered her snow-flecked hood. “Oh, ’tis you,” she said, with little interest.

  “What is going on?” Diana demanded.

  “Archie and Lord Bannister are about to fight. I hope it doesn’t take too long.”

  “They’re fighting with swords?” Diana cried. “They could kill each other!”

  “You do not have to worry. Lord Bannaster is clearly a superior swordsman. He won’t kill Archie.”

  “Can I worry about my brother, too?” she asked with sar
casm. “Or the state of Tom’s soul if he should accidentally kill him? Quickly tell me what this is about, so that I can put an end to it.”

  “Archie came storming in, said Lord Bannaster had offended him, and it was time to end it.”

  “That cannot be all that happened,” Diana said in surprise. “Did you hear what Tom supposedly said to start this?”

  Cicely shrugged, rubbing her arms against the cold. “Everyone in the castle spent hours looking for you. I heard from someone that Lord Bannaster thought Archie had kidnapped you to keep you away from him, so when Archie returned, words were exchanged.”

  Diana could only gape at her. “Tom thinks I’ve been kidnapped? By my own brother?”

  “I hear Archie did not deny it. He always did like to goad people.” Cicely eyed her in disapproval. “You have been gone most of the day, without leaving word. Rather disrespectful of you, was it not?”

  Closing her eyes, Diana nodded. “It was. I did not mean to be gone so long. I only needed a ride to clear my head.”

  She suddenly heard the ringing of steel on steel from within the crowd. There was a collective gasp, then applause, all interspersed by the sounds of two men battling with swords.

  Diana drew back on the reins and guided her mount toward the tiltyard. When she reached the spectators, she slowed her horse, but did not dismount. “Make way!” she shouted.

  The people at the rear of the crowd began to turn her way. One at a time, their eyes went wide, they whispered to their neighbors, and at last began to move back. Yet strangely, their smiles seemed glad and relieved, and Diana now understood why. They had been worried for her, and she was touched.

  But they also probably didn’t want her to stop the sword fight. It would be an amusing piece of gossip to relive when winter was at its bleakest.

  Tom and Archie circled each other, swords raised, faces obscured by their helms. But it was easy enough to recognize the combatants by their stance alone, and the snow was not yet thick enough to obscure them.

  “Hold!” Diana cried, but neither man heard her.