Castles, Knights, and Chivalry: 4 Medieval Romance Novels

by Ruth Kaufman

  “Perhaps if I pay double its cost, you’ll see your way to making another for the original purchaser? I need this. Today.” Nicholas untied a leather pouch of coins from his belt. He wouldn’t bully the man into giving him the necklace, but he’d strike a hard bargain.

  The goldsmith’s eyes widened. “By all means sir, that will be satisfactory. Who knows when my customer will pay? I will make him another.”

  Nicholas had kept the necklace on his person ever since.

  Why he couldn’t wait a few more days until Amice returned to court, why he had to go to her, he didn’t know. He was still angry, but his need to see her, to talk to her, overwhelmed his determination to stay away. She was with him always, his mind filled with visions of her laughing, smiling, her hair curling about his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see her.

  Nicholas realized he neared the place where he’d first met the muddy Amice fleeing from Harry. The memory brought a smile to his lips.

  A woman stood in the road with her hands raised, blocking his way. She was tall and slender, with brilliant white hair and remarkable silver-grey eyes that slanted slightly up. “Milord, a moment if you please. My horse has gone lame, and I am on a journey of a most urgent nature.” Her wrist turned gracefully as she pointed to her horse.

  A woman traveling alone was an unusual sight in itself, but a woman garbed as she was, in flowing, bright-colored robes that sparkled in the sun, added to his curiosity.

  “Who are you, and where do you go?” he asked.

  She looked at him as if assessing his worth. “I have no choice but to trust you, for time is running out. I suspect evil is afoot and am trying to prevent it. I am Ninian, a London apothecary. A man asked me for a dangerous drug, which I deeply regret preparing and selling to him. I knew he lied about his purpose and sensed he was dangerous. I’m trying to set matters aright by preventing him from using it.”

  “What were you going to do, a woman alone?”

  She shrugged. “Catch him in action and turn him in to the authorities? Persuade him not to use the mixture by buying it back? I only know I had to try. I couldn’t accuse him without proof of his intent. It may already be too late.”

  “Where was the man headed?” Nicholas asked. He could take her where she needed to go and then be on his way. Amice would be at Castle Rising for several more days.

  “I heard him tell a peddler. To a place called Castle Rising.”

  Nicholas’s blood froze. “What did the man look like? What was the drug? When did he leave London?”

  Ninian appeared taken aback by his stream of questions. “He was tall and very thin, with long, curving fingernails. The drug was a lotion of mandrake root and other components to induce sleep and calm,” she explained. “Why do you ask?”

  “We must go immediately. You can tell me the rest on the way.” Nicholas held out his hand. When she took it, he pulled her up behind him.

  Amice, back in Harry’s clutches. He had to get to her. He should’ve known she needed him. Nicholas urged Merlin on, though carrying two he couldn’t run as fast.

  “What exactly is it you fear?” Nicholas asked as they raced down the road.

  Ninian spoke into his ear. “The danger is that if too much is used, the victim will die. Usually I don’t concern myself with the use of my products. But this one is dangerous, and I had a bad feeling about the man. He said he needed it to calm his wayward wife, but I believe he lied.”

  “I think I know the man and who he intends the lotion for,” Nicholas answered, fighting churning panic. “He wants to force a woman to marry him.” His woman.

  “Then I was right to pursue him. Perhaps if she has used too much and is still alive I can help you save her.”

  Faster, Merlin, faster. The landscape blurred green as they flew.

  Nicholas feared the dread in his heart would overwhelm him. How had Harry escaped his locked cell, traveled to London and back? Amice must not have known, of she’d have said something.

  He’d have the tale as he wrung Harry’s scrawny neck.

  Amice’s head pounded. As she pushed herself into a sitting position, Harry appeared at her door, a letter in his hand and panic on his face.

  “What are you doing in my room? Why am I still wearing this gown?”

  “I saw your cousin Cromwell breaking his fast. I wanted to know if you’d join us. Did you like the lotion I gave you? Try some more.” He swept up the jar and smeared some on her temples before she could protest.

  “This is a drug. You’re trying to poison me!”

  She tried to wipe the cream away, but much had blended into her skin. She opened her mouth to scream, but Harry slapped his palm over her mouth.

  Amice wriggled, tried to bite his hand. But he was so thin there wasn’t enough flesh for her teeth to latch onto. Her tongue wet the fingers smashed against her lips. She retched at his salty, unclean taste. She kicked against his bony weight pressing her down, his hip biting into her thigh.

  Keeping his fingers over her mouth, Harry climbed upon her. He lifted her skirts with his free hand. “Finally. I’ve waited years to have you beneath me. Where you belong.”

  Fear sizzled and spots danced before her eyes as he yanked up her skirts. Oh, no. Please, no. Her teeth finally found purchase on his thumb. She bit him, hard.

  He yelped and leaned back, then slapped her. Pain exploded. Her head snapped to the side.

  “Stop blathering. No one can help you now.”

  Amice’s energy was fading fast. As the drug took hold, her limbs failed her. Oh, Nicholas, if only I’d been brave enough to tell you that I still love you….She couldn’t will her body to move.

  Harry paused, poised above her. This wasn’t good. Amice was sound asleep. He shook her until her head tossed on the pillow, then swiped her hair away from her face.

  “Amice. Don’t you dare play games with me. I will have you.”

  No response. He wanted her aware of what he was about to do. He wanted to please her and himself.

  “Did I apply too much cream? I was careful, wasn’t I? If you die, this will be no fun at all.”

  Still no response.

  New plan. He’d saddle a horse and carry her away. As he put his hand on the door, it opened, pushing him backward.

  Nicholas entered, his jaw set with more anger than Harry had ever seen, followed closely by that witch of an apothecary. How had she found him? How had Nicholas gotten involved?

  He could only think of survival now.

  Nicholas grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the wall as the apothecary hurried to Amice.

  Ninian opened one of Amice’s eyes. “She’s in a deep sleep, not yet the sleep of death. Thank the gods.” She grabbed a blue jar from the coffer. “But very little of the lotion remains.”

  “I am going to kill you. Now,” Nicholas ground out, holding Harry against the wall and squeezing his neck with both hands.

  “Wait!” Ninian cried. “I need to know how many times the cream was used.”

  Nicholas relaxed his grip a fraction of an inch. “Answer her.”

  Harry feebly gestured to his throat. Nicholas opened his fingers another infinitesimal amount.

  “Two,” Harry croaked.

  Ninian gasped. “Only two? Almost all of the cream is gone. There was enough for eight applications.”

  Nicholas smashed Harry’s head against the stones, rendering him unconscious. He fell in a crumpled heap, a trickle of blood oozing down his neck. Nicholas hurried to Amice’s side.

  “What can we do now?” he asked, gently pushing Amice’s curls from her eyes.

  “Wait. And pray. Time will tell. She’s used more than I anticipated, so there’s nothing I can do. I know of no antidote. It must wear off on its own,” she said.

  Cromwell hurried in. “Nicholas? What are you doing here? I saw you rush into the keep. And who is this?” He pointed at Ninian. “What happened to Amice?”

  Without taking his gaze off Amice, Nicholas said, “Har
ry drugged her. Obviously he continued his earlier campaign.”

  “What campaign is that?”

  Nicholas glanced briefly at Cromwell. Her cousin truly didn’t know, shock evidenced by his fish-like gasping for air.

  “Shortly after Edwin’s death, Harry asked Amice to marry him. Of course she said no. He held her prisoner. We met as she fled her captor to seek aid.”

  Cromwell looked old and sad. “I have failed her. As her nearest male relative, I should’ve prevented this. I was too concerned with the king and my two daughters to pay attention to Amice’s problems.” He joined Nicholas at the side of the bed.

  Nicholas sympathized with Cromwell. If she dies, I’ll live in anguish the rest of my days. Amice, I too have failed you. In defending my beliefs, I left you open to attack. I was too proud to accept the value of your gift, the greatest gift of all. Yourself.

  Thank goodness for his dream, for the necklace, for the unbidden urge prompting him to go to Castle Rising. But it still might be too late.

  “My lord, I am Ninian. I sold Harry the drug, though I suspected his hostile intentions. How can I express my grief at what I’ve done?”

  Cromwell took her hand. “I see the suffering and sincerity in your eyes. Thank you for trying to save her.”

  The three waited and prayed as their vigil continued through the night with no change in Amice’s condition.

  Chapter 20

  Harry moaned, conscious only of the pain consuming his body. Forcing his eyes open, he peered into the dark room. Several shapes surrounded the bed. None moved.

  Slowly he straightened from his crumpled position on the cold floor. Shooting cramps attacked his legs, so agonizing he had to bite his hand to stifle a scream, but they eased as he stretched. His head had never hurt so badly, even after a long night of drink.

  “If I were him, I’d have locked me up right away,” he whispered to the door. A tiny chuckle escaped him as he squinted at the outline of the knight’s strong body, rendered ineffective by the throes of sleep.

  Harry crept away. Not a servant stirred. The agony of his injuries slowed his escape, but he made his way to the castle entrance. No need for a horse, the bouncing would do me in for sure. Carefully, so as not to jar his head, he continued on.

  He was free. Free to find another way to have Amice.

  Nicholas was by nature a light sleeper, but yesterday’s events had exhausted him. Even so, he awoke before the windows let in any sign of day. Cromwell, Ninian and Amice were motionless. And Harry was…gone.

  He let out a yell as he ran into the hall and out to the bailey. No sign of him. If he hadn’t been so concerned for, so focused on Amice, he’d have had Harry imprisoned.

  “Harry has escaped after trying to kill Lady Amice,” he told the first servant he saw. “We must stop him.”

  Servants raced to do his bidding.

  Nicholas hurried to the stables for Merlin. He rode out bareback, hair flying in the wind.

  Cromwell and Ninian jerked awake as Nicholas cried out. They looked at each other.

  “We must help him find Harry,” Cromwell said, pushing slowly to his feet.

  “Of course.” Ninian opened Amice’s eyes, checking for any reaction. She listened to her shallow breath. “I’d hoped for good news as the drug wore off. Unfortunately, Amice’s condition hasn’t changed. At least she’s not worse.”

  “I’ll send someone to sit with her and report every hour.” They hurried out of her room. “Harry won’t get away with his crimes.”

  The pair searched the castle with the help of some still-drowsy servants. But for a smear of blood on the stone floor outside of Amice’s room, there was no trace of Harry.

  Ninian prayed Nicholas would find him.

  A nightmare gripped Amice.

  Harry was on her, his body forcing her onto the hard wooden floor. Rushes tangled in her hair. She couldn’t move or scream. She simply lay there, frozen. He leered and laughed, his mouthful of yellow teeth descending toward her. His foul lips met hers. She tried to shove him away, but couldn’t.

  He tossed up her skirts and reached between her legs. No!

  Suddenly Nicholas appeared. Her limbs and heart were free. She tried to reach for him, but he was gone.

  Her eyes opened. She was alone. Had Nicholas really been there, or was it only a dream? Of course it was a dream. He wouldn’t come for her—wouldn’t leave Henry and court to be with her. He no longer loved her. Maybe he never had. Words of the moment, not words of forever.

  Amice’s head throbbed. “Nicholas,” she whispered.

  Her eyes closed once more.

  Hours later, the disappointed, tired and hungry searchers sat on benches in the hall. Harry hadn’t been found, though the dogs had hunted him down as they would a fox. Nicholas’s bones ached, he was so weary. Ninian rested her head on her arms, and Cromwell breathed heavily. No one spoke. They’d run out of ideas. The servants went quietly about their tasks, preparing and serving food and drink.

  All turned toward a movement at the door, where a rumpled Amice stood, propping herself against the carved stone, blinking awkwardly at the crowd.

  Nicholas rushed to her.

  Her eyes gleamed with obvious hope, then disbelief and confusion. She shook her head, as if not certain she was seeing correctly. “Nicholas?”

  “I’m here,” he said as she swayed. He caught her before she hit the ground, and carried her back to her room, followed by a concerned Cromwell, Ninian and Ginelle. Worry ate at him, yet she felt so good in his arms. He’d missed her so.

  Gently he laid her on the bed, arranging pillows for her comfort.

  Amice stirred. She sat up.

  “Rest now. All is well,” Nicholas said, stroking her hair.

  “Harry?” she asked. “He tried to…he wanted….”

  “He’s gone. You have nothing more to fear.”

  Cromwell raised a brow, but said nothing. He started toward the bed, but Ninian gently tugged on his sleeve and pointed toward the door.

  Ninian pulled harder, whispering, “They need to be alone.”

  Nicholas and Amice stared at one another as if one looked away for but a second the other would disappear.

  Amice pushed herself higher on the pillows. Her smile dissipated the chill in his heart. “You are here. You came for me.”

  “Did Harry…hurt you?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “No. But he would have. He was atop me, about to…but the drug must have taken effect. He didn’t harm me.”

  Nicholas counted ceiling beams to calm his nerves. The thought of Harry anywhere near Amice was bad enough, but picturing him ready to pounce on her, to defile her, was beyond bearing. He forced the thoughts from his mind even as they sickened his stomach.

  “I should have been here.”

  “What, you’re my guardian, to follow everywhere I go? You couldn’t have known what Harry planned. You have responsibilities,” Amice said.

  “I want you to have this.” He placed a tooled leather pouch on her lap.

  “You came so far to bring me something? Why?” She took it, opening the flap. The eight large, deep purple amethysts set in engraved squares of gold sparkled in the candlelight. “It’s the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen.”

  Words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to discuss his feelings, to tell her he not only cared, he loved her. He loved her enough to combat any obstacles. Together they’d find a way. Being with her was all that mattered. If she would have him.

  But to tell her would make him feel, well, naked. Vulnerable, like a knight without his sword. He needed the protection of his weapons.

  Did the gift please her? He couldn’t bring himself to look. Yes, of course he could. If she didn’t want the necklace, so be it.

  “This is extraordinary.” She glanced at him, then returned her attention to the necklace. She tilted it to catch the light. “The workmanship, the gems…. I can’t accept such a generous gift.”

  Nic
holas wanted only to hold her in his arms, to feel her against him, but sensed she wasn’t ready. He fought awkwardness threatening to keep him from speaking, turning him into a young lad wooing his first girl. Why was this so difficult?

  “I bought it to show how much you mean to me.”

  She raised a brow. Their gazes met again, blue and green joining, communicating what neither could say aloud. But something had to be said. If neither was willing to bare his or her heart, he’d leave as he had come. She’d have the stunning necklace, nothing more.

  “I don’t believe the same things you do. I can’t change who I am.” The necklace glittered in her hands.

  “Neither can I change. I’m sorry we don’t agree, but hope we’ll not argue or try to persuade the other to join our cause. Our differences may seem insurmountable to some. I hoped I could put you from my mind. But I missed you. So much.”

  He sat on the edge of the high bed, taking the other end of the necklace. “You were even in my dreams. When I saw this as I passed a jeweler’s shop, I had to have it. Though I’d convinced myself I no longer wanted to be with you. Loved you, yes. Wanted to build a life with you, no.”

  “And now?” She seemed to squeeze out the words. Was that hope in her eyes?

  “Much has happened in the short time you’ve been away. I admit I can see why you believe in York. He’s powerful, strong and shrewd. But he and Margaret seem to get along one day, but then are at each other’s throats the next. As to Henry…he was weak in government. Now his spirit has fled his body. There is no king left in him.” He settled into a more comfortable position, still holding his end of the necklace.

  “I’d just returned from yet another futile, depressing visit to see if Henry’s condition had changed. Each time I leave the senseless king, I feel a year older. Even Margaret has given up hope of his recovery. The endless hours of prayer, the myriad bizarre treatments Henry has endured, all for naught. So much time has been wasted when York could’ve been working for the betterment of England. We could have moved forward, instead of waiting.