Anne Herries

Promised to the Crusader


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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