Her Darkest Knight

by Amy Mullen

"I do not believe you," Isabel said. Her words were clipped and quick. "I never wish to see you again. Unless Nicholas or Turstin want to take further action against you, I want you gone in the morn when your father arrives. I am done with you and will forget I knew you."

  Constance’s eyes flew from Turstin to Nicholas as she awaited word from them.

  "Your fate will be decided on the morrow," Nicholas said. "Do you agree, Turstin?"

  "I do," Turstin said. "And we must find Ronan so he can explain. If he is behind this, as Constance has said, he will live the rest of his days in the company of King Henry’s most heinous prisoners, and it will be better than he deserves."

  "Nay," Constance said, wailing again. "You cannot take him from me. I love him! Do you hear me? I love him!"

  "Enough," Nicholas said. "Return her to the room, and let her stay there. The door locks. I will send relief with keys to secure the lock before I retire for bed this night."

  The soldiers nodded and led the sobbing girl toward the steps. "Nay, nay, nay," she mumbled as she shook her head wildly, her tresses a black, silken cloud about her head.

  Everyone stayed silent after Constance was gone.

  "I am ready for bed," Isabel said, finally breaking the eerie silence. She spun on her heel and faced Turstin. "You must be as tired as I am."

  "I am," he said. "Nicholas, can you put a man outside Isabel’s room? I would sleep better."

  Nicholas nodded. "I will do that. Gemma? Should we tuck the children in and retire?"

  "I am tired," she answered. "I feel as if I could sleep for days."

  The pair left the hall, and Turstin watched as Nicholas gave Willis instructions. Willis stopped on his way out to address Isabel. "I am so happy to see you, my dear. Oliver and I arrived after sunset, prepared to set out again when we were told of the good news. Nicholas has given his orders. You can sleep soundly tonight."

  Willis nodded at Turstin and walked away.

  Turstin reached out to take Isabel’s hand. "I know we are tired, and you are now in shock. The only thing you need to do now is to sleep without fear."

  "Do you believe her story?" Isabel asked.

  "Do we have a choice? I have heard of women doing anything for love, but this is beyond my understanding. I am most anxious to find Ronan. Do not be surprised if Nicholas has given Willis orders to send men out to find him already. I see no reason for her to lie. I do not believe her smart enough to make up such a tale."

  "Constance has always been strange. Her behavior got worse once she arrived here. She was always tired and did not feel well. Ronan was here with us. Mayhap she was meeting him in the night. That would explain her physical condition. She was barely sleeping. She would disappear, and Ronan was always lurking about. I believe her story."

  "He followed me one morning. He warned me from Constance. Mayhap he was trying to decide if I would approve of her as a wife. That is all the sense I can make from it now. I still do not understand how he knew of my lineage. I hope we can find him."

  "Me, too," Isabel said as she squeezed his hand.

  "And then we can talk? I have a few things I want to straighten out with you."

  "We can talk on the morrow, Turstin. Please do not fret, for I am fine. You helped me when I needed you the most. I can ask for no more in a husband."

  "Oh, but you can ask for more. And if you do, you will receive it," he said.

  "We will talk on the morrow, then?"

  "Indeed. Now, let us be off. The idea of slumber never sounded so good. I will escort you to your room. As soon as I confirm Constance is abed and secure, and a man is on watch in the solar, I will return to my own quarters."

  "I am too tired to argue," Isabel said. She stood on her toes and planted a light kiss on his check. He wanted to grab her, hold her close, and kiss her until she could not catch her breath. Instead, he smiled and calmed himself down. There would be plenty of time for that.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Turstin heard someone in his room before he could see them. He had fallen asleep dressed as he was and did not cover. Sliding the dagger from his boot, he waited. The fire in the hearth was low, but the vague outline of a man formed as he tried to focus his eyes. Lying completely still, he held his breath.

  "Turstin? ‘Tis Nicholas. Are you awake?"

  Turstin let his breath out slowly as his body relaxed. "Aye, I am now. What is the matter?"

  "’Tis an hour before dawn, and I am sorry to wake you. Lord Beret arrived hours ago, and if you wish to find Ronan, please rise and meet us in the hall."

  Turstin jumped from his bed. "I will be down." He splashed water on his face and made his way to the great hall.

  As soon as he faced Lord Beret, Turstin knew the man was as pained as he was. This would be a dead end unless Beret could produce Ronan.

  "I know you wanted to see me on the morrow, but I came as soon as I received the message. I cannot believe the havoc my daughter has caused, and I am as eager as you are to get to the truth." Lord Beret sat down on the bench behind him. He was drawn and tired. "I came as soon as I could. If there is anything I can do to assist you, please let me know."

  "You have heard the entire story?" Turstin asked.

  "All but the end," Nicholas said. "I thought you might like to tell him what his daughter had to say. He knows of her confession but not of what it contained."

  "I see," Turstin said, now fully awake. The feeling of dread that had encompassed him the night before as Constance spoke came roaring back. He spoke quickly and quietly as he recounted what the girl had said. By the time he was done, Lord Beret was pale.

  "You may be in luck," he said. "Ronan is here. He traveled with my men. He has been searching for Isabel along with my soldiers, as if he did not know where she was. You will find him in the outer bailey."

  Turstin spun to walk away when Lord Beret stopped him. "Wait, what of my daughter?"

  "Though the true choice is up to Nicholas, I would like to hear from Ronan before we decide. I wish you to remain here until I can speak with him."

  Turstin did not wait for a reply. As he raced from the hall and out into the bailey, he heard the murmur of men talking. The campfire smoke and the light of the moon, which was now a bit fuller and brighter, created the illusion that all was well.

  Lord Beret’s men stood waiting. Turstin raced toward them and slowed only to inspect each face. Ronan was not there.

  "Where is Ronan?" he yelled to the men stationed near the gate. "Did any of Lord Beret’s men leave?"

  "Aye, one did. I did not have orders to detain anyone. I am most sorry."

  "Never mind that. Which way did he go?"

  "West, toward Renoir, milord."

  Turstin did not have time to reply. He ran to the stables and hastily readied Slash for the ride. He would not allow Ronan to escape. The soldier was the reason for his anger and the reason he had almost lost Isabel. He vowed there would be no rest until the man was caught and brought to justice.

  "Open the gate!" he commanded as his horse trotted through the outer bailey toward the gate. "Now!"

  The soldiers of Blackstone did as commanded. As soon as the metal chains lifted the gate, he charged through, riding into the blackness alone. If Ronan went west toward Renoir, ‘twas the only place Turstin knew to look. He pushed Slash hard as they flew across an open field, every one of his senses on high alert.

  Turstin cursed under his breath as he realized he was unarmed and without his armor. All he had were the two daggers secured in his boots. They would have to do. He continued to ride. Man and horse flew across the bridge spanning the River Lea, and he urged his mount onto the path toward his home. Though he did not know how far behind he was, if Ronan was headed toward Renoir, he would find him.

  Men shouted as he arrived. The chains screamed in protest as they lifted the old gate. "’Tis the lord," a voice echoed into the night.

  "Find Oswin," Turstin demanded, staying atop his horse. He waited but did not have to wait long.
"Has anyone come here?"

  "Nay, milord," Oswin answered as he appeared before Turstin. "I have admitted no one."

  "Wait." A man scrambled toward them. "A young man came, demanding to be allowed to enter. He was looking for work. He was armed and dressed as a soldier, so I sent him away and told him to come at first light. He was angry, but he went."

  It had to be Ronan. "How long ago?" Turstin asked.

  "’Twas not long. You should have passed him as you approached, milord," the soldier said.

  "Good job, soldier," Turstin said to the man. "Allow no one else to enter unless they are from Blackstone. If a man named Ernost arrives, he is welcome within. I have asked him to bring his family. Otherwise, no one enters."

  "Aye," the man said.

  "I must go. Oswin, keep watch. Should the same man come again, he must be detained. Put a few men outside the walls to intercept him. Hold him until I return, should he be captured. He is dangerous, so use care. I must go. I will explain later."

  With little sound, the gate closed behind Turstin as he rode Slash back out into the night. The moon offered a little more light than it had when he was searching for Isabel, but he was limited in his vision. This meant Ronan was, too. Yet he had found Renoir.

  Stopping for a moment, Turstin scanned the dim landscape. Dark. Isabel had called him dark. Now the darkness was lifting. The history between their families no longer mattered. She mattered. And right now, he had a man to find. Turstin wanted Isabel to rest at night, knowing Ronan was gone.

  Turstin urged Slash into a trot. He rode along the hedgerow as slowly as he could, eyeing the woods near Renoir. The trees had yet to be removed, as he had to make room for expanding the wall. The job was only half done.

  A flicker of light caught his eye. It came through the trees, along with the scent of smoke. Turstin could not tell if the smoke was from Renoir or not, so he stopped his horse and dismounted. Tying Slash to a tree, he moved through the woods slowly. A fledgling fire came into view, and he stopped behind a large tree. He found what he was looking for.

  Ronan sat before the tiny fire with a cloak about his shoulders. He was hunched over, as if cold and tired, and was completely unaware another human was so near. With a jerky motion, he leaned forward to blow on the fire and then seated himself again as the flames shot higher.

  Turstin weighed his options. Ronan had deserted Lord Beret’s men to come to Renoir and had inquired about work. Either he did not realize Isabel had been found, or he was a man with boundless courage. He would have to confront Ronan now. Pulling a dagger from his boot, Turstin rounded the tree and ran toward Ronan.

  Ronan screamed as he struggled to stand. He drew his sword as Turstin faced him, dagger gleaming in his hand.

  "Milord," Ronan said, lowering his sword. "I did not expect to see you until the morrow. I came looking for work, and they told me to come back."

  Turstin relaxed his stance but did not release his dagger or sheath it. "What are you doing in the woods near Renoir?"

  "Waiting, milord. I no longer wish to work for Lord Beret. He is cruel. I believe he has something to do with the disappearance of Lady Isabel of Blackstone. I cannot work for such a man."

  Turstin grunted as Ronan continued. "The girl Constance should get out of there soon, milord. She is a sweet and lovely girl. Her father will not find her a husband, and he beats her."

  Turstin had no idea if any of this was true, but he could not take another word. His heart was pounding, and his grip on his dagger was tight.

  "’Tis time to go, Ronan. There are some people who are looking for you."

  "Pardon?" Ronan asked as his eyes widened, and he took a tentative step backwards.

  "You are coming with me to Blackstone."

  "I am not," he said, his face a mask of defiance.

  "You are," Turstin said and jumped toward Ronan. He swung the dagger at the man’s legs, not wanting to kill him. Ronan reacted much more quickly than Turstin had anticipated, swinging wide with his sword and missing Turstin’s head by a hair’s width.

  "You cur," Ronan said with a growl in his voice. The weight of the sword and the strength behind his swing spun him around and gave Turstin the opening he was waiting for. Turstin lunged, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist as they fell to the ground.

  Ronan struggled, lifting his sword awkwardly, but Turstin was too close. Turstin pressed the blade of his dagger in Ronan’s back and spoke in a calm voice. "You will come with me now."

  Ronan went limp. "I will do as you say."

  Turstin could not trust him, but he was alone and had no backup to secure Ronan. He released his grip and moved to take the young man by the shoulders. Ronan scrambled, stood, and swung his sword again as he fell, slicing into Turstin’s arm.

  Turstin, spurred by the pain, lunged again. This time he knocked the wind from Ronan and pressed the blade to his throat.

  Panting, Turstin stood, ignoring the throbbing in his arm. He watched as Ronan tried to catch a breath. Turstin struggled to remove his tunic as the blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the grass beneath his feet. Before Ronan could react, Turstin rolled him over, tied his arms together with the tunic, and left him lying on his stomach. He picked up the sword and slid it into his belt, where his own would have been.

  "You move, and you die," Turstin said bluntly. A rustling noise alerted him to the presence of another. Oswin burst through the trees, sword in hand, looking confused.

  "Ah, there you are," Turstin said. "Do not let him move. Sit on him if you must, but do not let him rise."

  Oswin did as ordered. “Sorry to disobey you, milord, but when I saw you enter the woods, I thought I should be near should you need assistance.” He held the point of his sword into the nape of Ronan’s neck and ordered him to be still.

  "You are bleeding, milord," Oswin said.

  "Aye, I know." Turstin bent down and with his dagger cut the bottom from Oswin’s tunic. He handed it to his seneschal and took the sword with his other hand. "Wrap it for me."

  Oswin did as his lord bid. Turstin clenched his teeth as the wound was covered. It would be difficult to ride like this, but he must return with Ronan to Blackstone at once. He wanted this mess behind them, and would endure anything to make it so.

  "Go and fetch a few men and whatever straps you can find. I want him secure. We must ride immediately to Blackstone. I will have to trust you to secure him and put him upon your horse. I fear my left arm will be useless for now."

  Oswin obeyed. Turstin stood in the dark woods with the sword, looking down at Ronan. The man did not move, but Turstin did not trust him. "You would be wise to stay put. You have some answers, and I want them. You will face Nicholas de Reymes and Isabel de Vere. You will pay for your crimes."

  "I have no crimes. You have gone mad, milord. I do not know of what you speak."

  "How did you know who I am?" Turstin asked through clenched teeth.

  "I only know you as Turstin," Ronan replied.

  "You lie!"

  Ronan fell silent, as Oswin and a few other men returned. The young soldier was rolled over, and he glared at Turstin as if he wished to bolt but did not. They lifted him onto Oswin’s horse, and Oswin mounted behind him. After emerging from the woods, Turstin reclaimed Slash. One of the men helped him mount, and then they rode. Ronan must have thought better of trying to escape, because they made it to Blackstone quickly.

  Turstin’s arm throbbed as he held the reins tight. The drawbridge fell open as soon as they came into view. His anger kept him going, even as he rode with just one hand to guide his destrier. Thankfully, Slash was a good mount and needed little direction.

  Though the dawn had not yet come, streaks of color shot from behind clouds sitting on the horizon beyond, signaling morning was not far off. Torches lit the darkest corners of Blackstone, as few were still abed.

  Nicholas met Turstin as he entered the outer bailey. "You did not wait. I would have come with you."

  "No need, I found
him," Turstin said. "Now, does anyone know how to use a needle?"

  More people came near. His wound was bleeding anew, and he began to feel weak. He had no tunic, and the bandage on his arm was soaked with blood. Turstin leaned forward on Slash as Nicholas reached up to help him dismount.

  "I can walk," he said as his feet hit solid ground.

  "But you will not. Isabel is still abed, but Gemma is up. She will attend to you as soon as I can summon her. She’s sewn me up more than once, and I assure you, she has a gentle touch."

  Turstin’s knees buckled, and he fell into the grass as someone ran toward him with a linen blanket. He sat up as the cloth was placed around his shoulders. "I will wait, then. I am proud, but I am not foolish."

  ****

  Isabel rose before dawn. It was not wakefulness that drove her from her sweet slumber, but rather a feeling of unease that got worse as the seconds went by. She stumbled as she stepped toward her hearth, righted herself, and tossed in a few logs. The fire sputtered, died down, and then sprang to life as she watched.

  As the fog in her mind cleared, she stepped to the window and glanced up at the sky. The first streaks of dawn appeared. She changed quickly, tied her hair back, and splashed her face with water. The uneasy feeling grew. It was time to go see what was going on.

  Isabel was surprised to see she was not the only one up. Chamber doors hung ajar, indicating they were empty. Everyone except her had already risen, though a quick peek into the nursery assured her that at least the children were still at rest. The soldier who had been standing outside her door nodded at her as he followed her down the steps into the hall.

  A man sat on a bench before the fire. He was shirtless. Gemma stood beside him, urging him to hold still. It was Turstin. Isabel stopped on the bottom step and watched. In the dancing light of the fire, his skin glowed. His muscular back was broad; his waist was slender, and his blond head bent forward. Her feeling of dread mingled with something else.

  "Gemma?" she said. "Why is everyone awake?" She stepped down and walked quickly toward them, not taking her eyes from the amazing sight of her betrothed.