Her Knight Protector Read online

  They continued to ride at a swift canter for some minutes. Fernor listened for the sound of the dogs, but it had stopped. Either they were after some other quarry or Jacob had managed to confuse them. He considered whether he dared risk stopping for refreshments at the Abbey. The sisters were of an order that gave succour to travellers and they were sure of a welcome at the visitors’ house. Turning to glance at Katherine’s white face, he decided that perhaps it was worth the risk, for she looked as if she could go no further.

  It was when they reached the fork in the road that it happened, so suddenly that he had no warning and no chance to prevent it. A startled hart came dashing out of the forest, its path taking it across theirs and causing his horse to rear up. He fought valiantly to control it, but it was bucking and kicking and he heard Katherine give a little moan as she was thrown to the ground behind him. For a moment or two he wrestled with his frightened horse, gradually bringing it under control, and then he dismounted and hurried to where Katherine lay.

  She was so still! She had not moved and he feared that she was dead. Her face was as white as death. He bent his head to listen for her breathing. There was a faint murmur so she lived.

  What ought he to do now? He had sent Jacob to destroy the scent the dogs had been following, and he knew he must get Katherine to safety. He must take her to the Abbey and leave her with the nuns while he went on to Banewulf to alert her family.

  Securing his horse so that the creature would not stray, he looked down at Katherine once more. She had not moved. It was clear that she needed to be cared for. Bending down, Fernor gathered her into his arms. The Abbey was not far. He would carry her there.

  Alain reined in before the house of Philip of Rotherham, staring at the sight that met his eyes with a frown. The drawbridge was up and there was little sign of life. It seemed that he had come in vain. Yet now he looked again, he could see that something was dangling from above the portcullis—the body of a man, and a man that had been hanged.

  ‘Something is amiss here,’ he said to his brother, who was also staring at the fearsome sight. ‘I suspect the worst, Stefan.’

  ‘Have the herald blow up a demand for entry,’ his brother replied. ‘We must see what hath been happening here.’

  The herald gave a blast and men appeared on the battlements above them as the sound died away. There was much shouting and gesturing, and then a man called out to ask who they were.

  ‘I am Sir Alain de Banewulf and I demand entry in the name of my right as the Lady Katherine’s promised husband.’

  Some consultation took place and then the drawbridge was let down and Alain’s horse was the first to clatter over it. He dismounted as several men clustered around him, three or four trying to talk at once.

  ‘Where is the steward Sigmund?’

  ‘On his sickbed,’ an old woman said and shuffled towards him. ‘They beat him, and then they took his son Jacob, whom they had captured, and hung him from the battlements as you see, my lord. Sigmund is confounded by his grief and swears he will die of it.’

  ‘Who has done these things?’

  ‘It was the Baron Ravenshurst,’ one of the men said. ‘He came looking for the Lady Katherine and was angry when he discovered that she had escaped with Jacob and Fernor.’

  ‘Katherine was here?’ Alain turned to him eagerly. ‘You say she escaped—but that Jacob was captured. What of her? Did they take her, too?’

  ‘No, my lord,’ the man said. ‘The Baron was furious when they came back with Jacob as their only captive. He set out in pursuit of her himself, and we raised the bridge. We do not know what to do, my lord. Who is our master now that Sigmund is like to die of his grief?’

  ‘I shall see Sigmund and then make my decision,’ Alain said. ‘Take me to him—and in the meantime have someone cut down Jacob’s body. He must be given Christian burial. Where are your wits to leave him there?’

  ‘The Baron said he would return and punish us if we dared to cut Jacob down.’

  ‘He will find a different reception if he dares to return,’ Stefan said, coming to stand by his brother. ‘Some of my men will remain here to help guard you until we find Ravenshurst and make him pay reparation for the evil he has done here.’

  Alain was already striding away as Stefan began to organise the removal of Jacob’s body and the strengthening of their defences. It seemed that they had come too late to prevent the mischief here.

  Where was Katherine? How had she come to be separated from one of the men appointed to take care of her? Or had she been killed? Were Ravenshurst’s men too frightened of their master to tell him the truth? Alain’s mind suffered agonies as he reviewed all the possibilities.

  His body was tense with fear as he followed the servant to Sigmund’s bedchamber. First he must see the steward and do what he could to restore order to this stricken community, and then he would set out after Katherine. If she was still alive, he must find her before Ravenshurst did!

  Katherine stirred at last, her eyes opening. A woman was bending over her with a candle in her hand. She cried out because the light hurt her eyes and she was frightened. Everything seemed strange and she knew she was in a bed that was not hers.

  ‘Are you feeling better, my lady?’ a soft voice asked and a gentle hand stroked her brow. ‘You have lain in a strange sleep this past day and we had begun to fear for you.’

  ‘My head hurts,’ Katherine said. ‘And my mouth is dry. I would have water please.’ She struggled to sit up as water was brought in a cup but fell back as her head swam. ‘Where am I—and what happened to me?’

  ‘Your servant brought you here. He said that a hart startled your horse and you were thrown. He asked us to take you in while he went for help. It seems that you were being pursued by a man who means you harm, Lady Katherine.’

  Katherine nodded. Her head ached a great deal and the events of the last desperate flight from Rotherham were hazy, but she knew that she was escaping from a man who had tried to harm her. He had said he was her uncle, but then he had decided he would wed her… It was too difficult to remember anything more, because her head was very painful, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

  ‘Sip a little more of this water,’ the nun said. ‘I am Sister Sarah and I have been appointed as your nurse. Do not worry, lady. Everything will be better soon and your servant will return with help.’

  ‘You are so kind,’ Katherine said and closed her eyes on a sigh. ‘And I am so tired…’

  She closed her eyes, a picture of Alain coming to her mind. There was comfort in the memory of the man she loved. Oh, how she needed him! Where was he and did he know what had happened to her? Was he even now on his way to look for her? She longed for him so desperately, for the touch of his hand and the sweetness of his lips on hers. Would she ever know such content again?

  A tear trickled from the corner of her eye but she did not know it; sleep had claimed her, helping to heal the injury she had received in the fall. Sometimes she murmured in her sleep, but kind hands soothed her and then she began to dream and the dream brought a smile to her lips.

  Alain was there beside her, taking her into his arms…

  Fernor knew that he had been followed for some time now. He had ridden without ceasing throughout the night, but Banewulf was still some hours distant and he knew that the hounds were almost upon him. He could hear the sound of their baying; it chilled his blood and sent fear racing through his veins as he wondered what best to do. His horse needed to rest and he was not sure he could go much further himself.

  Even as he wondered what he should do next, his horse stumbled and he knew it was lamed. He could ride no further and must try to evade capture on foot. Dismounting, he stroked the horse for a moment before setting it free.

  ‘Find a new master, brave friend,’ he said. ‘For I fear I can do nothing for you now.’ Releasing the beast from its harness and saddle, he moved away and began to run. He was running for his life, for he sensed that if the hounds caught him
he was dead.

  He had gone but a short distance when he saw the beast before him. A huge, great black creature with red eyes and sharp fangs, which it bared at him as it growled low in its throat.

  Fernor stared at it as if mesmerised. He stood frozen to the spot, not daring to move for he knew that if he did it would attack, and, unless called off by its master, it would tear his throat out.

  He could hear the thud of hooves approaching, and then the riders came into view. It was the end of the chase. He was cornered by the dog and could not escape. Yet he would rather die than reveal where his lady had taken sanctuary. Gathering his courage, he walked towards the dog, ignoring its growls as it prepared to spring.

  ‘Hold, Brandon!’ a voice cried, but it was too late. The dog had scented Fernor’s fear despite his brave act, and its powerful hind legs pushed it forward as with one great leap it brought its quarry down and sank its yellowed teeth deep into the man’s flesh. ‘Damn it! Call that beast off at once before he kills the fellow. I want him alive and able to talk. If she lives, he is the only one who may know where she is…’

  Katherine had begun to feel better. Her head still ached at times and she felt a little strange, for some of the events of the past few days seemed to elude her still. She knew that her false uncle had vowed he would have both her and her fortune—and, to her horror, she had seen him murder Celestine in cold blood.

  Was it he who had been hunting them? Fernor had sent his cousin back to try to lead the hounds astray—but he had not come back to them afterwards. Had he been caught? And what had happened to Fernor? Had he been able to reach Banewulf and tell Sir Ralph what had happened to her?

  She had been at the convent for more than a week now. The weather was fine and warm and she was able to walk in the peaceful gardens. She had made friends with some of the sisters and found it soothing to watch them at their work. They were always busy, tending their herb garden, making the cures and salves that they used to help others.

  ‘It is so peaceful here,’ Katherine said to the Abbess when she met her while walking in the herb garden and admiring all the plants. ‘I almost envy your life here, Mother.’

  ‘Yet I do not think you would want to stay with us forever,’ the Abbess replied with a twinkle in her eye. ‘I believe that you dream of a very different life, my daughter.’

  ‘It is true that I hope to marry one day.’

  ‘You must be patient, Katherine,’ the kind woman said. ‘Your servant may have met some difficulty on his journey, but if you do not hear from your friends within a few days we shall send word to Banewulf that you are here. Lady Alayne has stayed with us here on her way to London more than once, and she hath been generous with her endowments. I am sure that as soon as she knows you are with us, she will send someone to escort you home.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Katherine said and smiled ruefully. ‘I do not mean to be impatient—indeed, there is no need, for this is a happy place to be. I have been at peace here.’

  ‘I am glad that you feel it,’ the Abbess replied. They were approaching a shrine of the Virgin Mary and she stopped to pick a rose in bud and lay it at the feet of the figure. ‘We believe that our Lady cares for us and brings us the peace we crave.’

  ‘It reminds me of a shrine I saw in Rome,’ Katherine replied. ‘It was so peaceful there—though it had been the shrine of a pagan goddess in the time of the ancient Romans. Yet I felt only goodness there.’

  ‘Symbols of religion are a comfort,’ the Abbess told her. ‘Who are we to deny those who lived before us the comfort they drew from their own gods? For in the end there is only one God and yet we may all worship him in our own way.’

  Katherine felt she was in the presence of a woman who had been touched by the Holy Ghost, for she knew that the Abbess’s views were not shared by all. There were many that would excommunicate her for what they would call blasphemy, and yet there was something so right and good about the simple way she saw life and God.

  Suddenly, she found herself telling the Abbess about the discovery her father had made, explaining her own doubts and the possibility that the full provenance could never be produced.

  ‘It is a weighty matter,’ the Abbess agreed when she had finished speaking. ‘And a heavy burden for one so young. You must think very carefully, my daughter. In the wrong hands such a relic might be exploited—especially if it is truly the cup our Lord used at the Last Supper.’

  ‘You think it may be true?’

  Katherine had half-expected the Abbess to deny her, to say that it was an impossible tale and that the Holy Grail could not be the simple cup she had described.

  ‘If your father was the wise and clever man you say, I do not doubt that he would make no claims he did not believe he could substantiate. If you truly believe the cup to be genuine, you must place it in the keeping of someone you trust beyond all others.’

  ‘Yes, I see that I must,’ Katherine said and smiled at her. ‘Thank you for you advice, Mother. I shall think carefully before I do anything.’

  ‘And now we must return to the house, for I see that Sister Sarah is beckoning. It seems that she has something to tell us.’

  ‘Perhaps she has news.’ Katherine’s heart raced and she suddenly felt light-headed with excitement. It must be that Fernor had reached Banewulf and someone had come for her.

  ‘Your lord has arrived, Katherine,’ Sister Sarah called out to her. ‘He is waiting in the visitors’ room for you, for we may not allow a man into our house. Go through the gate and down the path and you will find him there.’

  Katherine thanked her and turned towards the gate she had indicated. Her heart was racing as she ran down the path to the small building at the end. It was there that she had been brought on the night of her arrival, though she had not known it. The nuns had taken her into their infirmary where they nursed the sick, and afterwards they had allowed her to eat with them and worship in their chapel, most importantly to walk in their beautiful garden. However, no man was ever allowed beyond the gate.

  She hurried up the path to the door and opened it, going inside to the large, dark room that lay beyond. It was cool after the warmth of the sun and for a moment she could not see—and then as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom she saw a man standing by the small window. The sound of the door closing behind her told her that there was another—and neither of them was the man she had come so willingly to see.

  ‘So we meet at last, Lady Katherine.’ Baron Ravenshurst made her a mocking bow. ‘You have led me a merry dance. It was by chance that I stumbled on this place and came to inquire if they had seen you. Your kind friends were only too glad to tell me all I needed to know.’

  ‘You tricked them into believing you my betrothed,’ Katherine said in a choked voice. ‘What do you want of me, sir?’

  ‘You know full well what I want, Katherine,’ Ravenshurst said, his eyes narrowed to greedy slits.

  ‘I do not have it.’

  ‘No, I dare say you have hidden it somewhere by now,’ he said, a gleam in his eyes. ‘But I believe that you could be persuaded to give it up—in time.’

  ‘Is…he with you?’ Katherine asked. ‘The impostor who pretended to be my uncle of Grunwald?’ Her mouth felt dry and she curled her nails into the palms of her hands. He must not see that she was afraid of him.

  ‘You mean Edgar of Achrington, I imagine?’ Ravenshurst smiled, his teeth bared like a wolf about to spring on its prey. ‘I hope you held no love for him, lady—for he hath met with an unfortunate end in the moat at Rotherham’s house.’

  Katherine closed her eyes as the sickness rose in her throat. Yet she felt that the man who had pretended to be her uncle had received justice. ‘I cannot pity him. He murdered Celestine. He has received no less than he deserved.’

  ‘So you believe as I do in the law of natural justice?’ He laughed, struck by her courage and her pride. ‘I discover that I admire you, lady. You have spirit. It is a pity that you have defied me so long. Had
your father accepted my offer, it would not have been necessary to do the things that have brought you grief.’

  ‘Who else have you murdered?’ Katherine demanded. ‘If Sir Alain is dead, I shall never give you what you seek. You may take my life if you choose.’

  ‘But you would not so easily give the life of others, I think?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Katherine turned pale as he moved towards her. He was ruthless and she sensed that he would stop at nothing to gain what he desired.

  ‘I do not believe you would see this place burned to the ground and the sisters raped and killed for my men’s pleasure,’ he said and laughed as she gasped and fell back. ‘No, I did not think it. You are very brave with your own life, but you could not live with that on your conscience.’

  ‘You could not do such a thing! You would burn in hell for all eternity.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Ravenshurst moved a step closer. ‘Yet I have seen worse done in the name of Christ. Our beloved King Richard murdered innocent Moslems at Acre and still thought himself the champion of God’s cause. All religion is but in the mind of men and they make of it what they will for their own gain.’

  ‘But if you believe that—why do you want the cup?’

  ‘Then it does exist!’ He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh in his excitement. ‘Where is it? Tell me or I will make you sorry you were ever born.’

  ‘At Banewulf in Sir Ralph’s strongroom,’ Katherine said. ‘You cannot hope to take Banewulf, for it is heavily defended.’

  ‘Why should I waste my time in fighting when I have all I need right here?’ He smiled cruelly. ‘I think Sir Alain will trade the cup for your life, lady.’

  ‘Then you are wrong to think so,’ Katherine replied with a toss of her head. ‘Our marriage was one of property matters and no love match. If you think he will give up the cup for me, you are mistaken.’