One True Knight (The Knights of Honor Trilogy) (3 page)

Lorena arched her eyebrows in alarm. “At Airndale?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Nay, at Blackburn.”

She gave him a thoughtful look. “Perhaps he is dead,” she said, hopefully. “If there is no trace of him, then he may have perished, just as my last husband has perished. God can be kind at times.”

“I would like to think he is dead, but he always comes back, sending me messages and leading me to the next place. Then he disappears as if the devil provides him refuge. Unless he provides clues, I am at a loss as to where to find him. I expect that he will send another message soon.” He let out a long breath. “I have only seen the helm of my enemy and have no idea what he looks like underneath, yet I can see him as clear as the day he killed Amelia. I promised her before she died that I would find her killer, and I cannot rest until I do so.”

Lorena squeezed his arm, offering him small comfort. “It was a long time ago, Jonathan,” she said gently. She was one of the few people who knew how much Amelia’s death had affected him. “Amelia is no longer suffering now. Perhaps you should look to find a wife, and forget about the terrible past. You are not getting any younger, and you still need to fulfill your duty to sire an heir.”

“Siring an heir is the least of my concerns. While the Grey Knight is still at large, ‘tis pure folly to marry.” He looked off in the distance as if he could see Amelia’s image. “Any wife I have will always be in danger, always vulnerable, and as hard as I try, I cannot be by her side, protecting her at all times. I am unwilling to put another woman’s life at risk just because she has an association to me.”

Lorena let out a small sigh. “Come, let us not speak about the madman any further. Talk of him puts a foul stench in the air.”

They walked in companionable silence through the stone archway, and entered the great hall. The servants took little notice of them as they scrambled to set up the trestle tables for the unexpected guests.

“I will need to wash up,” she said, looking ruefully at the garden dirt at the hem of her gown. “I am afraid that I am not dressed for company. And you and your men would want to wash away the traveling grime as well. I shall have the cook make something to fill the hole in your bellies, for I know that knights are always hungry.”

“I will not argue with that,” he said, smiling. “We have traveled long and would appreciate having our bellies filled. While I eat, I shall hear you speak of your upcoming nuptials.”

She waved her hand impatiently. “Bathe first and we shall meet in the great hall. We have much to speak about, you and I.”

***

Less than an hour later, Jonathan arrived at the hall, finding his men already seated at the lower tables.

Lorena sat at the raised platform and when she saw him, her face lit up as if she had been waiting a long time for him to appear.

At her beckoning, he made his way over to her and sat down. There were platters of cold meats, cheeses, fruit, and bread spread out on the trestle table. “I can always count on your hospitality, cousin,” he said, eyeing the delicious food set before him. “You outdo yourself each time I visit you.”

“You sound as if you visit often,” Lorena said, laughing. She pushed the platter of cheese closer to him. “I had forgotten that the cook is away on an errand. At such short notice, this is all that we can offer. Dinner will be two hours hence and I did not think you and your men could wait. Perhaps this small repast will satisfy your hunger until then.”

Jonathan noted his men already digging into the fresh food as if they hadn’t had anything decent to eat for weeks.

Jonathan surveyed the platter, and selected a piece of cheese, placing it into his mouth and savoring its delicate taste. “I do not jest. This is fine fare. The cheese that you produce here is the best in the country.”

“I must admit that we do produce fine cheese here at Airndale, thanks to the Cornish servants who agreed to work for me,” Lorena said, her face flushed with pride and pleasure. The reputation of Airndale went far beyond the gates of London, and King Edward was said to enjoy the savory cheeses.

“Aye, and without any help from your late husband,” he said. “I fail to see why you need to marry again. ‘Tis obvious that you are doing well enough in managing your estate.”

The smile on Lorena’s lips faded. “Really, Jonathan,” she said. “You should finish eating before we discuss my personal matters.”

“Whether we discuss it now or later, what is the difference? You did ask me to come, did you not?” He paused. “Why are you marrying again? I thought you enjoyed widowhood.”

She shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable under his gaze. “If you must know, both Sir Philip de Belleville, and Sir Roger de Clait approached me with offers of marriage. I would prefer to stay a widow but outside forces prevent me.” She clenched her fists as if she was trying to grasp for something that was within her control. “Airndale is a small yet profitable estate. It borders Cornish lands and is vulnerable for attack from across the border and from within. I appealed to King Edward for help. He has suggested I choose either Sir Philip or Sir Roger to wed.”

“And so you have chosen Sir Philip,” he said.

“Aye,” she said. “Both are the king’s vassals, although I believe Sir Philip is the better choice of the two.”

“But you’re not certain,” he said in a flat tone, immediately understanding her unspoken concern.

Lorena heaved a deep sigh that sounded as if it came from the depths of her being. “I did not want to burden you with my troubles.”

Jonathan quirked his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

She drew another breath. “I have an uneasy relationship with my Cornish neighbors. They would love to take control of Airndale, I am sure. Then I have two very powerful English lords who also want these lands. Of course ‘tis out of the question to allow the Cornish to have Airndale. Thus I have no choice but to choose one of my English neighbors. I have known both of these men for as long as I have been married to Sir Gordon. Sir Robert is ruthless and vile and I myself have witnessed his heartlessness.” She gave an involuntary shudder as if she was recalling his bloody vengeance upon Airndale. “Sir Philip, on the other hand, seems a decent and honorable man, however ‘twould ease my mind greatly if you would confirm this and curry out any dark secrets that he may hold. If there is evidence that Sir Philip is not suitable for me, then I can appeal to King Edward before ‘tis too late. He can then find me another knight to wed. However once my marriage to Sir Philip is finalized, and if there are ugly truths unearthed then, I am bonded to this marriage until death.” Her gaze settled on her lap.

He reached over, and lifted her chin. “Do not look so sad, cousin. You know I will help you,” he said.

Lorena gazed at him through a veil of tears. “This I know, cousin,” she said, her voice unsteady, although there was hope there as well. “It may just be pre marital jitters that I am having,” she said. She gave a weak laugh. “I do believe that Sir Philip is the better choice for me and for my people, but I just want to be certain, very certain that I am not making a terrible mistake in marrying him.”

“This is reasonable,” he said, nodding. “But what makes you think that Sir Robert will not attack Airndale even after your marriage? If he is as ruthless as you say, a marriage would not stop him from sacking your holdings or harming your people.”

Lorena beckoned for a servant to refill Jonathan’s goblet. And when he moved away from the table, she continued. “I do fear that Sir Robert will move in to attack Airndale and gain it by force, whether I marry or not,” she said in a voice that was filled with fear and worry. “However if I am married to another powerful lord, I will at least gain protection for my people. So many lives have already been lost and I cannot afford to lose anymore.”

Lorena grew silent.

“‘Twas not you who lost those people, Lorena,” he reminded her. “Sir Gordon lost most of your men during that ill conceived siege. I don’t know why he set his sights on Sir Robert’s holdings.”

A shadow fell across her face as if the mere mention of her late husband sucked the life force out from her. Her husband died four years into her marriage, falling off his destrier during a siege that went awry. Without direction, half of the garrison was wiped out that day. Robert then arrived, full of retribution, to attack Airndale and set siege to it. And Airndale, with provisions used up, almost starved during the long hard winter that followed.

“The people belong to me as well, Jonathan. I cannot bear to witness more women made into widows and more children waiting in vain for fathers that shall never return.” Tears began to fall from her face, and she brought up a hand to wipe them away. “It was only through King Edward’s interference that Airndale was saved.”

Lorena was overcome with emotion, and Jonathan touched her arm to stop her from delving into the horrors of the past.

“I will need a few days to see if there is any reason to stop your marriage from proceeding,” he said kindly. “I will go under disguise as a poor merchant. If I can find proof, I will declare it during the reading of the banns.”

Lorena smiled at him through her tears. “I am in your debt,” she said in a husky voice.

Jonathan softened his gaze. “As much as I am in yours,” he said. Lorena was the only person who helped him survive the hell of his fostering. There was much he owed to Lorena. His other plans had to wait for now.

CHAPTER 3

It was several hours before dawn when Rowena awoke. She pressed her hand to her chest, thinking the thudding of her heart seemed much too loud.

Carefully, she drew the curtains aside, and peeked out to make sure that Ava was still snoring softly in her usual place beside the bed. Rowena raised her eyes heavenward, gave a quick thanks to God, and slipped out on the other side of the four poster bed.

Despite Ava’s disapproval, she slept in the rough woolen gown that her nursemaid brought for her. Even though the wool was thick, Rowena could still feel a slight chill. Suppressing a shiver, she quickly put on the cloak that she tossed on the bed the night before. The extra layer of wool immediately enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth.

She crept to the foot of the bed, and grabbed the small bundle that sat on top of the trunk and tied it to her belt. She smiled at the memory of talking circles around her nursemaid. Ava finally broke down and brought the cloth bag filled with bread and cheese from the kitchen.

Ava, she knew, had her best interest at heart, but her nursemaid feared her father and so she couldn’t be trusted to keep Rowena’s plan a secret. And Rowena was determined to go through with her plan. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling a bit guilty about lying to her nursemaid, although she never did specify when she planned to leave Ravenhearth. Ava assumed that she would be leaving at mid-day and it was easier to let her believe what she wanted.

With one final glance at the pallet, she crept across the silent chamber, and slipped out of the door without incident. Once the chamber door closed, she quickly made her way down the spiral stairs.

In order to gain her freedom, she had to pass through the great hall. And at this time, the hall was filled with sleeping bodies. Many of the servants lay on the straw covered floor, curled up next to the dead fire at the center of the room, while the men-at-arms slept on top of the trestle tables lined up along the walls. The rumbling pitches of their snores unified and rang throughout the hall as if a giant was pealing a hundred church bells at once.

She weaved through the sleeping bodies, and stopped when a hound suddenly raised its head, recognizing her despite her disguise. It flipped its tail once but made no effort to move from its comfortable spot underneath the table, too tired from the previous night’s festivities.

Rowena let out a breath of relief and dashed out the hall before it changed its mind and followed her. In short time, she was outside. It was done. She looked up at the sky and saw the faint blushes of morning beginning to show.

She couldn’t take a horse with her, she decided. The stable master always took inventory of the horses each morning, and a missing horse would prematurely alert her father of her disappearance. She would have to find some other way to get to Whitshire. However that was something that she would figure out later.

Rowena curved around to the castle gates, and couldn’t believe her luck when she found the gates already open and a small group of people filing out of the castle.

Her father usually gave the servants the day off to celebrate the official welcoming of spring. The servants, she knew, would head out into the nearby woods to help gather flowers and greenery. They would then go back to the market cross in town and help decorate the large may pole there. Ava was right. Leaving the castle this day would not bring undue attention to herself.

Rowena caught sight of a mother and her two children on a cart, waiting for their turn to exit the gates. She decided to stand close to the family to give the impression that she was a part of their troop. The small boy caught her eye, and smiled at her. She smiled back. The boy then turned to whisper something to his sister and she too glanced back at her. Rowena nodded to them. “Good morning,” she said quietly. But it was a mistake to speak.

The mother whipped her head around at the sound of her giggling children and spotted her. She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. “Do I know you?” she asked. “Your voice sounds familiar.”

Rowena pulled her hood closer to her head. “Nay,” she said, deepening her voice in hopes of disguising it. “I am the bailiff’s niece, returning home from a visit.”

The woman narrowed her eyes further as if she didn’t believe her. “I wasn’t aware that the bailiff had nieces your age,” she said. She grabbed the squirming boy by the collar, and pulled him back into the cart. “I should know,” she added, thrusting out her chest with importance. “I’m the cook’s wife, and he knows everyone in the castle.”

Before Rowena had a chance to answer, the porter hollered for the woman to move her horse and cart forward.

The woman gave Rowena one last glance before urging the packhorse onward, and drove the cart through the opening. Rowena followed quickly behind.