Promised to the Crusader (3 page)

H
idden by the thickness of the trees and the undergrowth in which they had taken refuge at the sound of horns and approaching horses, Elaine held Marion’s hand. Bertrand had taken the horses on a little, fearing that they might snicker and betray the presence of the two women.

The sound of horses, jingling harness and voices grew louder. The Earl of Newark’s men had gathered in the clearing and were looking for signs.

‘Three horses went this way, my lord,’ one of them cried. ‘See where the undergrowth is flattened. ‘They must have gone this way.’

‘We cannot be far behind now,’ Stronmar said. ‘If we ride hard, we shall find them within
the hour. We must find her, for the earl is anxious she should become his bride.’

Marion’s hand was trembling. Elaine held it fast, putting a finger to her lips as they heard the sound of the horses riding away.

‘That man,’ Elaine whispered. ‘I know him. It is rumoured that he is Newark’s son, born of a peasant woman—and he is even more evil than his father.’

‘If they catch Bertrand, they will kill him…’ Marion looked at her fearfully.

‘You must not doubt him. He has kept us safe for two days now.’ Elaine’s heart was racing but she raised her head proudly. ‘Come, we must do as Bertrand told us and make our way across the river. We shall meet back at the mill he spoke of earlier and then it is but another day or so to my dower lands.’

‘Supposing the earl has sent men to your home?’

‘We must meet that possibility when we come to it,’ Elaine said. ‘It seems that they wasted some time in looking for me when my palfrey returned. Bertrand has taken them on a detour and he will return with just two horses, sending the other careering off by itself. Hopefully, the earl’s men will follow it for long enough to get us safe to Sweetbriars.’

‘Even if we reach your home the earl may attack.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Elaine’s face was pale but determined. ‘I can only pray—’ She broke off as they heard the sound of voices. She tensed, listening hard. Newark’s men or someone else?

‘I think there are only a few.’ Marion parted the bushes carefully and looked. ‘Two men ride this way, my lady—a knight, I think, and a servant. The servant’s skin is dark.’

‘Let me see…’ Elaine peered through the bushes and then drew back. ‘The knight’s head and much of his face is covered by his chainmail, but the servant wears strange clothes—the clothes of a Saracen, I think.’

‘Then we must try to avoid them,’ Marion said. ‘They may be some of the Earl’s men.’

Elaine was about to agree, when she saw the servant look at his master anxiously and the knight suddenly slipped unconscious from the saddle.

‘The knight is ill,’ Elaine cried and, before her companion could stop her, she had left the safety of the trees and was running towards them. The servant had dismounted and was securing the horses to a branch, but Elaine was on her knees and bending over the knight in concern. ‘Sir Knight, I think you are ill,’ she said
and touched his gloved hand. His eyes were closed, but he moaned faintly and opened them and she felt an odd tingle down her spine. His eyes seemed familiar, but his skin was almost as dark as his servant’s and she could not have seen him before.

‘My master has been very ill,’ the servant said and bent over him, lifting him in his arms as he came to his senses. ‘I am able to care for him. Do not disturb yourself, lady.’

‘I would help you if I can,’ Elaine said. ‘I have some skill with herbs and could make you a tisane to restore his strength.’

‘Give me the herbs and leave us,’ the servant said. ‘My master would not wish to trouble you.’

‘Nay, Janvier,’ the knight said weakly. ‘Do not treat a lady so scurvily.’ His eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet with Janvier’s help. ‘What do you here, mistress? Are you alone?’

‘My brother and his wife are nearby,’ Elaine replied, relieved as she saw Bertrand leading the horses towards them. He had made his detour and was on his way to meet them at the appointed place.

The knight nodded, looking at her oddly. ‘These are dangerous times to travel, mistress.
What is your name and where your destination?’

Elaine hesitated. Should she tell him her story? He was ill and something in his eyes made her feel that she could trust him—but in her precarious situation she must be cautious.’

‘We travel to the lands of our lady,’ she replied. ‘My lady is in some danger and we are vowed to help her if we can.’

‘Will you tell me her name?’ the knight asked and now he was standing alone without the help of his servant. ‘It might be that we could travel together. It is safer to travel in numbers.’

‘My lady’s name…’ Elaine faltered. She wanted to tell him the truth, but Marion was shaking her head. It was perhaps too soon to trust the knight, for he might lead them straight to the earl’s men.

‘Her name is the Lady Philippa of Earlsmere,’ she said, the lie coming awkwardly to her tongue. ‘We travel south-west, sir…to the lands of the Marches, between Wales and England.’

‘Then bear us company for a little time until we must go our separate ways,’ the knight said. ‘I think perhaps you are in some trouble, mistress. Although my strength is not yet what it
should be, my servant and I would protect you if we could.’

Elaine wavered. Ought she to take this knight at his word? Even as she hesitated, Marion gave her another warning look.

‘You are kind, sir, but we travel alone,’ she said. ‘I shall give your squire the herbs, which must be steeped in hot water for six hours, and half a cup of the mixture drunk twice a day. Their healing properties will help you to regain your strength, sir.’

‘I thank you,’ the knight said. He laid a hand on Janvier’s arm and the servant held back whatever he had meant to say.

Elaine gave the servant the herbs, then allowed Bertrand to help her mount one horse while Marion rode pillion behind him.

‘You took a risk,’ Marion said as they rode away. ‘It might have been a trap.’

‘The knight has been very ill,’ Elaine said. ‘I believe we should have been safe with him, but it was best to be cautious.’

She was conscious of an odd feeling of loss as they rode away. His eyes had said something to her, but she was not sure why they had made her heart race. Her instincts had told her she could trust him, but perhaps Marion was
right. He was a stranger and as such could not be trusted once he knew her true identity.

‘The earl’s men have been misled,’ Bertrand said. ‘Yet it will not be long before they discover their mistake and come after us once more. We must put as much distance between us as possible.’

Zander sat silent, lost in his thoughts and unsure of his own feelings.

‘Something lays heavy on your mind,’ Janvier said. ‘You have seemed strange since the stranger came to your aid.’

‘It was she,’ Zander said. ‘She would not tell me her true name and yet, though she is older and a little changed, I know it was Elaine Howarth.’

‘The lady to whom you gave your promise?’

‘Yes. She did not know me, Janvier—or she did not wish to acknowledge it. Either way…’ He shook his head. ‘Yet she was dressed as a yeoman’s sister. Why was she in disguise—and where was she going?’

‘Perhaps she merely bears a likeness to your lady?’

‘I was not certain enough to reveal myself,’ Zander said. ‘I would prefer to be stronger before
I offer her my service—and I must still avenge my father.’

‘You must regain your strength before you can think of revenge.’

‘Yes.’ Zander nodded. ‘I feel better now. I think it was merely tiredness that made me fall from my horse—but I should like you to make up the brew she told us of, Janvier. I will try her cure and see if it improves my health.’

‘Do you trust her?’ Janvier said. ‘If she concealed her identity, she lied to you.’

‘Yes, and I believe she is in some trouble. We shall follow where they lead, my friend, a little behind and see what transpires.’

‘I thought you wished to avenge your father?’

‘I do—but if the lady is going where I think she must be, I shall not be so very far from Newark’s lands. He has many manors and one of them lies only a few leagues distant from Sweetbriars.’

‘If you would risk your life for her, she must be special to you, my lord?’

‘I would give my life for hers willingly. I am determined to follow the route they took. We are but half an hour behind them; their horses are of the common sort and will not bear them as swiftly as our destriers. We should catch them before nightfall, but we shall watch them
from a distance. I would know more of where they go and why before I reveal myself to her.’

‘We shall rest here for a while by the stream,’ Bertrand said and dismounted. He helped Marion down and then went to assist Elaine. ‘We are sheltered in this hollow and the horses can go no further until they rest for a while.’

Elaine looked about her. They had not seen the stream until they crested The rise. Perhaps the earl’s men would ride by if they came this way.

‘We have no choice,’ she said. ‘The horses are weary and so are we. We must eat and drink and so must our horses, for we should be lost without them.’

‘I will take them to the shallow edge to let them drink,’ Bertrand said. ‘Rest there beneath the tree, lady. Marion will bring you food—and there is water to drink from the well we passed.’

‘Marion must rest before she prepares our food,’ Elaine replied. ‘Later, we will prepare the meal together.’

‘That would not be fitting, my lady,’ Marion said.

‘It would appear odd if I did nothing while you two worked,’ Elaine said with a smile. ‘I am supposed to be your equal, Marion, not your
lady. Come, sit and rest beside me, and then we shall prepare the food together.’

‘Do as your lady bids you,’ Bertrand said and led the horses to the edge of the stream, where they began to drink thirstily.

Elaine was deep in thought when Marion sat on the blanket beside her and rested her back against the tree. She had not been able to put from her mind the thought of the knight who had been so exhausted that he fell from His horse. She wondered if he had been to the Holy Land and whether he had been injured there. His servant was most likely a Moor or a Saracen, though how could it be that he had chosen to serve a Christian knight? Elaine was certain the knight must be one of those who had taken the Cross and followed King Richard on his crusade. Why else would his skin be so dark that he looked like a Saracen?

What was it about his eyes that seemed so familiar? She puzzled over it in her mind but, though the answer seemed close, it lay behind a curtain of mist. She could never have met him, for surely she would remember?

Zander looked down from the rise on the man and two women as they began to load their belongings on to the packhorse. Then the man
came to help the woman who claimed to be his sister up to her horse before seeing to his wife. There was something reverential about the way he assisted his sister—but of course that was merely a disguise.

The lady was a lady, not a person of the yeoman class. He’d known when he heard her voice and as time passed grew more certain that she was Elaine Howarth—the woman he had pledged to return and marry. Her face had been a little brown for she’d always had a true English-rose complexion—but mayhap she had stained it with walnut juice. Some of the knights had used that ruse when trying to infiltrate the Saracen’s camp.

His thoughts led him to the same conclusion; she and her companions were hiding from someone—someone who meant them harm. Zander watched the two horses and their riders move away and then let his horse wander down to the water’s edge. They had ridden hard and could afford to let their quarry go on a little. It had been easy enough to discover their route, for they had stopped in a nearby village to take water from the well and buy bread and cheese.

Why would Elaine choose to ride with so few escorts? She must know that she was at the mercy of unscrupulous men. Even with her face
stained she was lovely—and there were many that would want her dower lands. Why would her father allow it?

Perhaps her father had died and she was at the mercy of some unscrupulous guardian.

Of course! The solution came to him in a flash. She was hiding from someone who wished to force her into marriage and take her fortune for himself.

Zander frowned. She needed his protection, but she had refused to trust a stranger, fearing that she would be led into a trap. He must either reveal himself to her—which he was reluctant to do yet—or he must follow behind and watch over her.

He was not yet strong enough to fight for her himself, though Janvier would do his best if asked to lend his protection. Zander knew that when he sought revenge on his enemy he would need strong men to fight for him. He must recruit them—and they would soon be at the estate of his uncle, his mother’s brother, Sir Roderick Harvey. There they would find friends, but if he stayed with them he might lose sight of Elaine.

‘You must follow the lady and her companions,’ he told Janvier as he brought food and wine from their packhorse. ‘This night I shall
stay with my uncle and follow in the morning with all the men I can muster.’

‘Leave you to travel alone?’ Janvier looked at him uneasily. ‘If you should faint again…’

‘I shall not, for I feel a little better. Give me some of Elaine’s herbs and I will brew them this night.’

Janvier frowned. ‘You place much trust in a lady who would not trust you with her name or destination.’

‘I know where she goes. We have been heading steadily south-west all day. She means to try to reach her dower lands. I fear that rogues are pursuing her.’

‘It is your wish that I follow and do what I can to protect them?’

‘For the love you bear me, protect her whom I love if you can,’ Zander said. ‘In the morning we shall follow and in good time I dare say we shall come up with you.’

‘I am only one man, perhaps against many. Yet I will seek to do as you ask, my lord.’

Zander frowned—he did not wish to lose his friend. ‘I think if this man desires her in marriage he will not seek to harm, only to capture—it may be best if you simply follow and observe. Should she fall prey to some rogue’s perfidy, follow her to see where he takes her
and then come for me. I shall not be long behind you.’