Her Banished Knight's Redemption--The follow-up to award-winning story the Rebel Heiress and the Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  ‘Do you not think it possible that the ordeal you suffered as a child was so monstrous that in time your mind began to contrive a different narrative?’

  ‘You’re all but saying that I must have made all of it up in my head.’

  ‘No, I am just trying to consider why you might believe that everything that has befallen you and your family was not merely coincidence.’

  ‘I do not need your consideration, Will. You don’t have to share my beliefs,’ she said, pulling the blanket tightly over her shoulders. ‘All I want is your understanding.’

  ‘You have it, my lady.’ He met her eyes and made a curt nod before resuming his carving.

  ‘Thank you.’ They descended once again into silence, which Isabel was keen to break. ‘You seem highly skilled. Did you learn this at a guild in England?’

  Will shook his head and continued shaping the small bit of slate, exchanging the knife for a chisel. ‘My father was a stonemason...that is, my stepfather was.’ The words that he spoke seemed forced and tainted with bitterness. ‘He was the one who was truly skilled—commissioned to make gargoyles and ornamental mouldings on the underside of arches, along columns and buttresses of many a holy church and its outer buildings.’

  ‘It must have been inspiring to be around someone who could produce such...such beauty.’

  Will tilted his head, keeping his eyes pinned to what he was creating. ‘When he favoured me with his time, which wasn’t often, it felt...special. He would sit and teach me how to hold whatever it was I intended to carve as well as how to hold the knife, the pressure I’d need to apply to get the desired effect. It was intricate, time-consuming work and an effective way to spend a little time with the man. At least it stopped us from incessantly arguing.’ He sighed deeply, looking away.

  This was one of a very few times that Will had freely revealed something significant about himself—about his past. Even if he was still reticent. It was preferable to Isabel—she would much rather talk about his past than her own.

  ‘It must have been...difficult.’

  He shook his head. ‘I have always enjoyed cutting, carving and moulding—creating something with hopefully a little beauty out of nothing.’

  ‘I understand the need to elicit a little beauty from this sometimes unforgiving and unkind world.’ Isabel hugged her knees tighter. ‘That’s why I extract parts of flowers, herbs and plants to prepare tisanes, poultices and salves that may heal and soothe. Or if I’m feeling particularly indulgent then I’d create scented oils and soaps.’ She looked up then and caught his steady gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips.

  ‘And that is why your own scent is like an enchanting floral garden.’ He smiled as Isabel felt her cheeks getting warm.

  She looked away for a moment before turning her attention back to Will. ‘Has it been long since you have seen your family, your father?’

  He frowned before answering her. ‘Not since...well, for the past few years. My father—stepfather—died around that time.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  He shrugged. ‘Despite this,’ he said, nodding at the slate and chisel in his hands, ‘we were never close. I wasn’t his natural-born son.’

  Isabel warmed her hands, holding them out near to the fire, watching the flames flare, her gaze distant, recalling a faraway memory. She blinked and lifted her head. ‘My father never favoured me either and I was his natural-born daughter.’ She grimaced, shaking her head. ‘I was an inconvenience who held no interest for him, except when he was arranging my betrothal. Even then I cannot recall he ever spoke to me much about it other than make demands.’

  ‘Is that why you didn’t tell anyone—me, the priest, the nuns who took you and even your adopted family—who you really were?’

  ‘Not exactly. My father commanded me not to and I was only a child at the time so I obeyed his edict without question.’ She shrugged. ‘He told me that our family’s position was precarious because of his downfall with King John. And after what happened at the ambush, I was scared, Will. I even thought at one time that it had been the King’s agents who were responsible for what had happened. I believed that I was in danger, so I kept my vow and told no one who I was.’ She sighed.

  ‘Besides, I trusted my father would come looking for me once my family realised what had happened. But no one came for me, no one cared...so I decided to forget everything that had happened and forged a new life—one of my own choosing.’ Isabel might have longed for her mother desperately, but she had feared her father’s wrath more, believing that somehow the ambush would be perceived as her fault. But how could it? She had only been a child—a terrified child. Isabel’s throat suddenly felt tight as she lifted her head and met his eyes.

  ‘You should have been treated with more care, Isabel.’

  Yes...yes, she should have been. Not that Isabel blamed her gentle mother, who’d never had a say in anything. But she certainly blamed her indifferent, controlling father. His blood might run through her veins, but it had offered her no protection from heartache. And in time she’d realised that she could only ever depend on herself.

  Isabel’s need to guard herself from further hurt stemmed from that very moment in her life when everything shifted. When she journeyed down a path very different to the one she was meant to.

  ‘My father used to say to my mother that I must be cursed because of my strangely coloured eyes.’

  ‘You are not,’ Will growled, as if he were annoyed on her behalf. ‘And they’re not strange, but beautiful. I remembered you after all this time because of your remarkable eyes.’

  Heavens above...

  Isabel’s cheeks felt as though they were on fire. She swallowed, unable to think of what to say, her words drying on her lips. Yet she couldn’t break away from Will’s intense scrutiny daring her to believe him.

  She stood up suddenly. ‘I think it must be time for me to get some sleep. Shall we take it in turns to keep watch?’

  It was not quite the best way to diffuse whatever had just passed between them, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

  ‘Apologies, my lady,’ he said stiffly. ‘I did not mean to embarrass you.’

  ‘You didn’t, Will,’ she said, biting her bottom lip.

  ‘I’m glad.’ He rose as well and passed her his blanket. ‘Here, just in case you get colder later.’

  She frowned. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Now try to get some sleep.’ He held out his hand. ‘Before you do, may I possibly take a look at the other pendant—the identical one—to satisfy my curiosity?’

  * * *

  Isabel woke up at the break of dawn. She had meant to rouse earlier to afford Will the opportunity to rest and sleep as well, but she must have been far more tired than she had anticipated. The moment Isabel’s head had touched the blanket, she had fallen into a deep slumber.

  She sat up, yawning and stretching her arms, her eyes darting around until they settled on Will, finding him frowning over the two pendants.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I meant to wake much earlier than this.’

  ‘Not necessary, my lady.’ He waved his hand absently, without looking up. ‘But there is something you should know about these pendants,’ he said, holding them up.

  Her brows creased. ‘What is it?’

  Will looked up then. ‘They are not identical.’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Nevertheless, it’s the truth, Isabel.’

  She slid over beside Will for a closer inspection, blinking several times at the two pendants, held in the palm of his hands. ‘I don’t know what you mean. They still look exactly the same to me.’

  ‘That’s what has been baffling me.’ He shook his head. ‘Why go to such lengths to make these pieces of jewellery look as though they’re one and the same, when they’re not.’

>   Isabel looked closer and noticed that actually the ruby inset in the centre of each pendant, although exactly the same in size, was differently set.

  ‘Can you see it now? Notice how the gem, the silver filigree work around the edges and all the beautiful metal work are all perfectly the same in design.’

  ‘But on one pendant, the design is raised...’ she said slowly.

  ‘While on the other, it is set back to an exacting precision,’ he finished her sentence.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She met his eyes, shaking her head. ‘Why?’

  ‘I cannot say, my lady but I do think that whoever commissioned these intended for them to look identical.’

  ‘There must be a reason. Why go to all this effort to make them appear the same?’

  They sat side by side for a moment staring at the two pendants before Isabel shook her head and turned to Will. ‘We’re not going to get any answers now, so why don’t you try to get some sleep, while I keep watch.’ Before he could object, she added, ‘Please, I insist.’

  ‘Very well, but only for a short duration. We must leave soon.’

  Chapter Eight

  They reached the small bustling town of La Rochefoucauld before noon. Here, they could replenish their supplies and allow their horses a much-needed rest at a nearby farmhouse. But it had been a mistake to have come into a place so open, exposed and very conspicuous. Isabel couldn’t explain why or how, but a deep sense of foreboding gripped her the moment they arrived.

  She pushed the feelings away, knowing they were irrational and based on fears she had manifested and embellished in her head. Will was no doubt right in his estimation that everything she had always supposed to mean more, was purely coincidental. Even the pendants weren’t identical, as she had always believed. None of it seemed to mean anything or make much sense.

  So, why did she still feel so apprehensive?

  Isabel sighed, realising that it was the first time since the night of the attack that she had been in a place that was so busy.

  The two of them strolled alongside one another in the market square, which was filled with an array of different vendors and farmers selling an abundance of produce. They ambled past master bakers selling honey bread topped with sprigs of lavender, milk cakes, pastries and delicate meat and cheese pies. Elsewhere, there were flowers and herbs being sold as well as harvested vegetables and fruits.

  Isabel selected the juiciest plums, turned to Will and gave them a gentle squeeze, her eyebrows arched playfully. He shook his head at her and covered a grin with his hand. Isabel was surprised by her shocking behaviour and yet it was certainly one way to stop her from focusing on her anxious musings.

  After purchasing essentials, including the delicious plums, they meandered away from the market square and towards the farmhouse through a few cobbled pathways. As they turned into a narrow road with tall dwellings on either side, the fine hairs on Isabel’s arm rose. Something felt very, very wrong. The path was deserted except for a man at the far end, who was leaning against stone wall, whistling.

  Will grabbed her by the elbow, making her stop. ‘Turn and walk back the way we came,’ he muttered urgently, from the side of his mouth. ‘Easy now.’

  She did as he bid, noting that he had obviously had similar suspicions. They both walked a little quicker, but came to halt when two men entered the path, walking towards them.

  ‘They don’t look particularly friendly.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe they are.’

  She snapped her head round to him, her breathing laboured, ‘What now?’

  ‘I’ll create a diversion and then I want you to run as fast as you can. Can you do that?’

  ‘Absolutely not, do you think I’m going to leave you the mercy of these men?’

  Will took his dagger out its sheath, held it in one hand and took out his sword from its scabbard. ‘Isabel, we do not have time to argue about this.’

  ‘I’m staying with you,’ she said defiantly. ‘Hand me a spare weapon.’

  ‘What?’ He frowned. ‘No. You need to know how to use it, otherwise there is hardly any point.’ He looked in both directions at the men prowling towards them as he pushed her behind him, his body shielding her from whatever the men were about to inflict.

  Good grief, she was not wholly incapable of helping, even in this terrifying situation. Or mayhap it was the proximity of this big, strong warrior that was making her a little braver than she would have otherwise felt.

  ‘Pass me a weapon, please.’

  This time Will complied and handed her a small, slim knife which had been strapped to his ankle, all the while shielding her behind his larger, taller and broader body. He made a few, determined steps back and to the side, making her shuffle along until she was positioned inside a wide doorway.

  ‘When the time comes, I want you to do exactly as I say, do you understand?’ he said, scanning the buildings on both sides. ‘Isabel?’ he hissed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see that you’re formulating some sort of plan.’

  He made a quick nod. ‘We’ll see.’

  The men from either side sneaked closer, trapping them.

  ‘There’s no need for any violence here, if you do as we ask,’ one of men said, holding out the palms of his hands, showing that he carried no weapons. He was wiry, of small stature, and his face was severely pock-marked. ‘All we want is the woman and the pendant you have dangling around your neck.’

  Will shrugged as though he was discussing something inconsequential. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What exactly do you hope to achieve except ending your life here and now?’ the man retorted before throwing down a small coin purse filled, presumably, with silver. ‘Here. For your troubles.’

  Will ignored the leather purse that lay on the ground and smiled nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ll take my chances.’

  ‘There are five of us and only one of you.’

  Will’s smile turned rueful. ‘Not a problem for me. I’ve taken on more than half a dozen men on my own.’ He held his sword arm out, ready for battle. ‘So, it is I who should advise you all to turn back now and return from whence you came.’

  ‘And it’s not five against one, anyway. I’m here, too.’ Isabel muttered from behind him, gaining a low groan from Will, as the five men descending on them stopped momentarily to laugh.

  * * *

  Trust Isabel to come out with such brave yet unwise words, undermining his own. Yet Will couldn’t help but appreciate her spirit.

  Ah well, now, mayhap they could use this to their advantage. He flicked his eyes to the buildings again, taking in the different heights and angles of the roof. Yes, it could work. He waited for the men to edge closer just a little bit more before he could undertake his hare-brained plan.

  Two of the men sprang forward at the same time. Will fended off the attack from the right with a few expedient swipes of his sword, bringing the man down, then spun quickly at the exact moment the other assailant attacked. Will blocked him and lunged forward unexpectedly, bringing him down as well. But there were still three men left and they seemed to have purposely held back since they were smirking as though expecting this outcome.

  They were trying to tire him out, but these men had no idea of his stamina. They would need a whole garrison of soldiers if they wanted to achieve that.

  ‘Watch out!’ Isabel cried from somewhere behind him as another, much larger, man attacked from the side. He caught Will somewhere on his body, but he had little time to dwell on any minor gash.

  The man to the other side moved forward, relishing the chance, it seemed, to clash swords with him. But he was certainly better than the others, who had been no match for Will. No, the man was better than that—he was skilled enough to draw Will slightly away from Isabel. It was then that he realised that while he was doing that the others were tryi
ng to grab her.

  ‘Take cover, Isabel. Remember the unexpected and be ready for any eventuality!’

  ‘I’m trying!’

  Will continued with the swordplay and with a few decisive swipes and lunges he successfully made the man drop his weapon, bringing him to the ground. But when he turned swiftly, he found one of the men holding Isabel from behind, with the knife Will had given her against her throat.

  ‘Now, as you were.’ The man smirked. ‘We want that fine pendant, see. So, take it off and pass it here.’ He pressed against Isabel with the blade a little closer against her throat.

  The man was a thug, panting heavily and looking unnerved and agitated, which made him far more dangerous than any skilled soldier. One false move and he could kill Isabel.

  ‘Do as he instructs, Sir William,’ the pock-faced man who had spoken from the outset said. ‘And drop your weapons...now!’

  Damn, they should never have ventured into this town. They had walked straight into a trap.

  Slowly, very slowly, Will crouched low, placing his sword and dagger on the ground.

  ‘Boot them towards me, if you would be so obliging,’ the man said, his stony eyes fixed on Will.

  He did as he was bid, but noticed from the corner of his eye that the man who was holding Isabel had eased the knife he was holding from against her neck.

  ‘Isabel...plums!’

  Will snapped his head around as Isabel delivered the devastating blow he had taught her, causing the man holding her to widen his eyes in shocked pain, releasing her just as Will elbowed him in the face, making contact with his nose and hearing it crack, broken.

  Isabel rushed behind Will once again as the pock-faced man bellowed. As he suspected, more men, who had been waiting at either end of the openings of the pathway, ran in.

  Will pulled himself up on the door plinth and kicked the pock-faced man before grabbing his weapons and climbing upwards, gaining purchase on the flat base.