Promised to the Crusader

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.’

Janvier nodded. He lifted his flask and drank deeply. ‘If I believed it possible, I would help her, my lord—but I shall do as you order me.’

Zander nodded. The two men clasped hands and set off in their different ways. Zander’s head was aching again, but he ignored it, determined to reach his uncle’s house before nightfall. His mother’s brother would do all he could to supply him with men he could trust—good fighting men who would stand by him.

He had thought to wait until he reached his father’s lands, but now he had no choice. If Elaine was in danger, he must protect her somehow.

Elaine glanced over her shoulder. She had an odd feeling that they had been followed from first light, when they left the barn that had sheltered them from the night. A willing farmer had supplied food and a place to rest after Bertrand gave him most of their money. She touched the silver cross that hung beneath her tunic. It was precious to her, but they would soon need more funds; she must sacrifice the necklace, if need be. Her friends had already done much for her and she could not ask them to go hungry when she had the means to ease their predicament.

Looking round again, she thought she saw a man riding a horse, but he was hidden in the trees that bordered the track on which they rode. Her spine tingled and yet she did not feel that the presence of her shadow was menacing.

When a little later they left the woods behind, she caught sight of the man again, and this time she knew him. He was the knight’s servant.

Was the knight with him—and why was he following her?

Elaine was considering whether she should stop and let him come up with her, then demand an explanation or tell Bertrand and try to throw him off. Before she could decide, she heard a shout from ahead and suddenly saw a party of six horsemen bearing down on them. They wore the yellow-and-black colours of the Earl of Newark and Bertrand signalled to her to ride away into the trees.

‘You must hide, lady,’ he said. ‘We shall go another way and hope to draw them off. From this distance they cannot see us clearly. Go back into the woods and hide. If we escape them, we shall return to look for you—if we do not…you must go on alone somehow.’

‘You risk your lives for me.’

‘Waste no time in regrets—go now, my lady, before they come up with us and see you.’

Reluctantly, Elaine turned back into the woods. Her throat hurt and she was close to tears. Her darling Marion and Bertrand had already done too much for her. For a moment she was tempted to turn back and let the earl’s men take her rather than risk the lives of her servants. Yet she knew that Bertrand would never stand by and see her captured. She must hope that they managed to outrun the earl’s soldiers.

Leading her horse further into the woods, she dismounted and sat down on a fallen tree. Bending her head, she covered her face, feeling close to tears. If they did not return, how would she ever manage to reach her home?

‘Your friend is a brave man, lady.’

Elaine’s head came up as she heard the man’s voice and knew it for that of the knight’s servant.

‘You have been following us,’ she said. ‘You are alone—where is your master? Is he ill?’

‘My lord went to the house of his uncle to recruit men to ride with us,’ Janvier said. ‘He sent me to watch over you, for he feared that you were in danger.’

‘Yes, I am,’ Elaine said. She saw with blinding clarity that she no longer had an option: she must trust the knight and his squire. ‘I am pursued by the Earl of Newark, because he wishes to capture me and force me to be his wife. I am…heiress to some lands he covets because they run close to his own. My father would never listen to his offers to buy the land and now he seeks to take them for himself.’

‘Come, lady, mount your horse and let me take you to my lord. He cannot be far behind us now. Once you have his escort you will be safe—we should give our lives to protect you.’

Elaine hesitated. Her instinct had been to trust the knight, but Marion had warned her to hide her identity from him. Now that she had confessed part of her story, she would tell the knight the whole when they reached him.

Hearing some voices back the way she had come, Elaine lost no time in mounting her horse and following Janvier back through the trees. For a while it seemed as though the voices were following them, but then Janvier pulled her along a narrow track that led close to a dangerous ravine. Her nerves jangling, she allowed him to lead her horse, closing her eyes and refusing to look down.

‘We are safe now, lady. I saw this track earlier, but most would not notice it. I think we can rest now for a little.’

‘Thank you.’ Elaine allowed him to help her down. she sank onto the blanket he placed for her and leaned back against a tree. Tears were very close, but she refused to shed them, though she could not help thinking of Marion and Bertrand.

‘Your friends may have managed to give them the slip. It is clear that the earl split his forces to follow you—perhaps this will save them.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Elaine said and took the bread and cheese he offered, breaking small pieces to eat. ‘You, too, could have died if they caught us.’

‘There were no more than three. I am a match for them,’ Janvier said. ‘I thought it best to lead you to safety if I could, but had it been necessary I should have given my life to save you.’

‘Why?’ Elaine looked at him in wonder. ‘You do not know me—why would you risk so much for me?’

Janvier shook his head. ‘It is my lord who would keep you safe. He is the most honourable knight in Christendom—and he would not see any woman fall prey to the man who pursues you.’

‘You have heard of the Earl of Newark?’

‘Yes—but I shall say no more. You must learn what else you need to from my lord.’

Elaine nodded. ‘I am ready to go on, sir. I would meet with your lord before nightfall if ’tis possible.’

‘Come then, lady,’ Janvier said. ‘For I think he is close behind us.’

Chapter Four

‘I am glad to be of service to you,’ Sir Roderick said as he clasped Zander’s hands. ‘I honour you for all you have suffered in the Lord’s cause, and my men will serve you faithfully for as long as you need them.’

‘When I secure my father’s keep I shall employ more and send them back to you.’

A shadow passed across his uncle’s face. ‘I fear there is little there to reclaim, Zander. The lands were small, as you know, for your father fell into debt and forfeited some acres. His keep is nought but a mouldering ruin.’

‘Then I shall restore it and build a fine manor house,’ Zander said. ‘I have won both honours and a fortune, Uncle. I shall restore the name of my father and bring his lands back into good heart so that there is food and a place to live for those that are still loyal.’

‘Then go with my blessing and may the peace of God be upon you, Nephew.’

‘My soul can never be at peace until I avenge my father,’ Zander replied, but he smiled and clasped his uncle’s hand. ‘I thank you for your help and now I must go, for I fear my lady is in great danger.’

He mounted his horse, signalled to the men his uncle had assigned to him, and set off at a canter from the moated manor house. It was a secure stronghold and his uncle was a powerful man who employed more than one hundred men-at-arms. The horses’ hooves clattered across the wooden bridge, eleven men in all—and every one a good fighting soldier.

Zander hoped that soon he would recover his strength. He had taken two measures of the cure brewed from the herbs Elaine had given him and was feeling a little less exhausted. The dizziness that had plagued him for weeks seemed to have gone. He smiled as he bent forwards over his horse. He would not faint and fall again and they must hurry—if they delayed, it might be too late.

Elaine’s heart caught with apprehension as they saw a band of men galloping down the road towards them. It looked a larger party this time and she feared that the Earl of Newark had sent more men to look for them. Here there were no woods to hide them and to flee back the way they had come would be useless.

‘If they wish to take me, you must allow it,’ she said to Janvier. ‘I do not wish you to sacrifice your life for me. The Earl’s men will not harm me; he needs me alive so that he can claim my lands without fear of reprimand or retribution.’

Janvier smiled as the horsemen came closer. ‘Fear not, lady. ’Tis but my lord and the men who serve him.’

‘Oh…’ For some reason Elaine’s heart beat even faster and her stomach twisted with nerves. There was something about the knight she could not place and yet instinctively she had trusted him. ‘I must thank God for his arrival.’

The party of some ten men or more came to a halt. The knight lifted his hand in greeting. ‘Well met, lady,’ he said. ‘Where are your companions?’

Was she wise to trust this unknown knight? She might be going from the heat of the cooking pot to the fire.

The knight dismounted and came to help her down. His men were also dismounting, to rest and eat, for they had ridden hard. He came to Elaine and held out his arms to assist her to dismount. She slid down into them and for a moment he held her. It was strange how comfortable and right it seemed, but she did not know this man and after a moment to catch her breath she moved away from him.

‘We must talk, lady,’ he said and took off his cloak, spreading it beneath the branches of a sturdy oak for her to sit. She declined and remained standing. ‘You should know that I mean you no harm and will help you in whatever way I can—but you must tell me where you go and who pursues you.’

‘I told your servant when he found me this morning,’ Elaine said. ‘A man who wishes to force me into marriage is pursuing me. He invaded my uncle’s castle and killed him, before sending my aunt penniless from her home. Marion and Bertrand drew the earl’s men off earlier this morning. Bertrand told me to hide in the woods—but then your servant came. The earl’s men must have split, because some came after us, but Janvier led me to safety. I am grateful for your service, sir, and would reward you.’ She took a deep breath, then, ‘I am Lady Elaine Howarth and my only hope is to reach my dower lands.’

‘Yes, it is much as I thought,’ the knight said. ‘Let us not speak of reward, lady. I am a true knight and it is my duty to protect any in need—particularly a lady of gentle birth.’

‘Then I can only thank you—and offer my help if ever I can assist you.’

‘Will you tell me the name of the rogue that plans such evil?’

‘He is the Earl of Newark and ruthless,’ she said, her eyes suddenly blazing with anger. ‘I will never marry him. I would rather die.’

‘Then he would merely take your lands for himself,’ the knight said and something made her look into his eyes. They were grey and as cold as ice, and his mouth had become thin and hard.

‘What do you know of him?’ she asked, her pulses racing. Her heart was thudding now and she was certain that she should know this man. Her instincts could not be wrong. She’d met this man before, though she knew not when or how. ‘Who are you, Sir Knight?’

‘Newark tricked and murdered my father,’ he said harshly. For a moment he turned away from her. His shoulders straightened and then he reached up to pull back the hood of chainmail, turning to face her. ‘Do you not know me, Elaine? I knew you at once, though you have hidden your hair and stained your face.’

She stared at him, her eyes drawn to the livid scar that ran the length of his face, from the corner of his left eye to his chin. It had puckered and the whole side of his face was red and inflamed. For a moment she did not recognise this man with black hair that was streaked with grey, but then, all at once, she knew. It was he, though the years and the hot sun of the Holy Land had wreaked havoc with his looks.

‘Zander…?’ She moved towards him hesitantly. He looked so different, sterner and older—much older than his years—and the scar was ugly, making her heart contract with pain. The beautiful youth who had declared his love before he left her had gone and in his place was a man she did not know. ‘Is it truly you?’

‘Yes, Elaine,’ he said. ‘It is I—older and battle-scarred, as you see—but I am Zander, lord of the lands my father bequeathed to me and I bear his name. I am Sir Zander de Bricasse and lord of Penbury.’

‘Oh, my love, you have been sorely hurt,’ Elaine said. Her instinct was to go to him and kiss him, but something held her back. He was Zander, the man she loved, and yet he was not the same. There was a distance about him, as if he had placed a barrier between them and she was not sure what to do. ‘I am so sorry…’

‘Save your tears for those who need them,’ he said in a harsh tone. ‘I do not wish for pity, Elaine. I should not have revealed myself had it not been that you must trust me if I am to deliver you safely to your home.’

‘Zander…’ Her lips trembled. ‘It was not pity, but love that made me speak thus. I have always loved you.’

‘You loved the man I was—not the man I am now,’ he said, voice gruff with emotion. ‘Give me no promises, lady. I do not ask them of you. I release you from the vow you made those many years gone.’

‘I do not wish to be released,’ Elaine said, but her voice was little more than a whisper, and in truth she was not sure what she felt. The scar was terrible and disfigured one half of his face, but she knew of unguents and cures that would help it, easing the pain and infection so that it would no longer be so inflamed. Nothing could make his beloved face as it had once been, but, if he would let her, she could ease the pain he must be feeling and heal the wound so the scar would not be so livid. It was not so much his appearance, but his manner, the distance between them, that made her hesitant. ‘If you wish me for your wife, I should be honoured, sir.’