Knights of Honor Books 1-10: A Medieval Romance Series Bundle

by Alexa Aston

  David and Drew removed the bodies of the two dead knights. Tristan had Stephen and Toby placed in an empty stall and covered with blankets. She wondered why they had not taken the bodies directly to the chapel but didn’t question Tristan. His eyes, usually so warm and vital, had taken on a wintry look ever since the death of his friends.

  Together, they walked to the keep. She brought her satchel, not wanting to leave it in the stables, but left her other weaponry in a corner of Nightfoot’s stall. Nan saw no activity present in the bailey and decided everyone must be at the evening meal. Entering, they came to stand at the doors to the great hall.

  Suddenly, a broad-shouldered man with a head of white hair appeared in the doorway. He wore a black eyepatch over his left eye and she wondered how he had lost it. One lone, pale blue eye sparked with joy as he recognized Tristan and Gillian. Then he took a few more steps toward their party. It struck her that something was off about his gait. Nan noticed one leg of his pants seemed almost empty compared to the other one, its muscles straining against the material. She realized besides the eye, the man also was missing a leg.

  “Lord Tristan, Lady Gillian, ’tis very good to see the two of you again,” he said.

  “Hello, Sir Dawkin,” Gillian said politely. “I am happy to see you, as well.”

  Tristan nodded curtly in acknowledgement of the older man. Then he indicated his companions. “This is Sir Dawkin. He is my captain of the guard and has been at Thorpe Castle most of his life. You will not find a more loyal man on Leventhorpe lands.”

  The nobleman turned back to his captain. Without preface, he said, “Toby and Stephen were killed early this morning while on sentry duty. We have brought them home for burial.”

  Tears welled in the knight’s good eye. “I am most sorry to hear this, my lord. I will send to North Colnbourne for a priest to say their burial mass.”

  Send for a priest? Nan couldn’t imagine why a priest needed to be summoned when there should be one in residence at Thorpe Castle. She bit her tongue to keep from asking why.

  “Thank you,” Tristan said. “If you will assign chambers to my guests, I would appreciate it.” Without introducing them, he turned away and mounted the stone stairs leading to the upper floor, a heavy air of sadness enfolding him.

  Once again, questions filled Nan. Why would a knight in charge of the castle’s soldiers be involved in deciding where guests would stay? With Tristan being unmarried, who was in charge of the domestic affairs of the keep? Did he even employ a steward?

  David shot a questioning glance in her direction and then said, “I am Sir David Devereux of Sandbourne. This is Drewett Stollars, a squire fostering with Lord Geoffrey de Montfort of Kinwick. We would be happy to stay in the barracks with your men, Sir Dawkin.” He indicated Nan. “And this is my cousin, Lady Nan de Montfort.”

  The knight wiped his eye with his sleeve. “Ah, I am pleased to meet you all. We have plenty of room in the barracks, Sir David, and would be happy for you both to join us there.” He turned to Gillian. “We knew you would arrive soon, my lady, since your trunk came this morning. Your bedchamber has been made ready for you. Should we have Lady Nan stay in the solar?”

  “With Lord Tristan?” Nan blurted out, then felt her cheeks flame.

  “Nay,” Gillian reassured her. “Tristan never sleeps there. He has kept to the bedchamber he shared with my brothers growing up.”

  “Even though he is the Earl of Leventhorpe?” she asked, finding it peculiar that the solar stood empty.

  “Aye,” Gillian confirmed. “He . . . prefers it. I think he feels closer to our brothers by doing so.”

  Since Tristan had never mentioned any siblings beyond Gillian, Nan had no idea how many Therolde brothers there were or where they had gone. They didn’t seem to be present at Thorpe Castle.

  Sir Dawkin frowned. “Mayhap Lady Nan might stay with you tonight, my lady,” he suggested to Gillian. “That would give time to prepare the solar for her.” The soldier told Nan, “It has not been used for several years. I’m afraid you would be covered in dust if you ventured inside it, my lady.”

  “Do you mind sharing with me, Nan?” Gillian asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Sir Dawkin extended a hand. “If you would like to come partake in the evening meal, we had only begun when you arrived.”

  They followed him into the great hall. The dais was empty.

  “I think it best that we join the other soldiers,” David said, and he led Drew to where they sat at a few tables.

  Nan caught the disappointment on Gillian’s face as they moved to the dais. Once they were seated, a servant brought a trencher for them to share and poured ale. Nan looked around the large room, surprised that it was only about half-filled.

  “Where are all of your workers and tenants?” she asked.

  Gillian shrugged. “I suppose they are all here. I have no idea how many reside on the estate. I never thought to ask.”

  A thousand questions whirled through her brain. Nan voiced the first that came to mind. “How large is Leventhorpe?”

  “I would venture about the size of Shercastle and its lands.” Gillian took a sip of her ale.

  Nan knew if that were the case, many more people should be present in the great hall. Between the empty space here and the numerous vacant stalls they’d seen, she gathered the castle had only a handful of servants and that much of the land wasn’t occupied by tenants.

  But why?

  Her mother hadn’t tried to curb Nan’s curious nature but she had taught her daughter good manners. As much as Nan wanted to pepper Gillian with questions, she wouldn’t.

  At least for now.

  She turned to her meal. Everything tasted bland and the meat was so tough, she chewed endlessly before being able to swallow it. If this was what their cook produced on a regular basis, Nan might have to go into the kitchens and give the woman a lesson or two in how to prepare food.

  They ate in silence. Nan could see Gillian was weary from not only the long day, but also from the emotional toll the deaths of Sir Stephen and Sir Toby had brought.

  When the girl finished eating she excused herself, urging Nan to stay in the great hall and visit with Sir Dawkin while she made sure her bedchamber was suitably prepared and that the solar would be the first priority in the morning.

  Nan found herself standing with Sir Dawkin near the fireplace and decided to explain why she was at Thorpe Castle since Tristan had abandoned them.

  “I’m sure you knew that Lord Tristan journeyed to Sandbourne to purchase horses,” she began.

  “Aye, my lady. We have plenty of empty acreage that can be used as pastureland for horses. The earl discussed with me about buying and breeding horses.”

  “My cousin, David, is the heir to Sandbourne. He knows a great deal about horseflesh and their care, which is why Lord Tristan asked him to come to Thorpe Castle for a few weeks and impart his knowledge to your stable hands.”

  “A good decision,” agreed Sir Dawkin. “The workers could use Sir David’s help in establishing the stables.” He paused. “We lost a good many horses several years ago. When the peasants revolted.”

  It hit Nan that Essex had been the center of the rebellion, which had spread to London and beyond. Many serfs in Essex had abandoned their cottages and marched on London, burning large parts of the city and murdering hundreds. Ancel had seen the fires and dead bodies firsthand and had helped quell the rebellion as part of the army King Richard sent out. He had only shared a few stories of those days with Nan but his words remained vivid in her mind.

  She now understood why Leventhorpe was in such poor shape. Many servants and tenants must have left the estate and never returned. Because of the revolt and the thousands lost to the Black Death in the years before that, some estates found it difficult to find enough workers to farm the land. Some had turned toward raising sheep. Will all the acreage standing idle at Leventhorpe, no wonder Tristan had thought to raise horses on the property
.

  Sadness filtered through her. She had no idea how long he’d been the earl, much less how his father had dealt with the results of the rebellion and the damage caused. Obviously, the stables had been burned and that was why they looked so new.

  She pushed aside those thoughts and continued her conversation with the captain of the guard. “Lord Tristan also asked that I accompany him home to work with his soldiers.”

  Sir Dawkin’s thick, white brows shot up. “Doing what, my lady? Teaching them to dance?”

  Nan swept a hand down. “I’m sure you noticed my attire, my lord. Though I usually don a cotehardie to dine in, I am most comfortable in men’s clothes. Though I have learned a great deal about horses over the years from the Countess of Sandbourne, my cousin, my true skills lie in the area of archery.”

  “Indeed.” The knight looked doubtful.

  “When Lord Tristan arrived at Sandbourne, I was already present working with the earl’s soldiers and those boys fostering with him. I am an expert with a crossbow, bow and arrow, and the longbow.”

  The older man snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t see how, my lady. Forgive me.”

  Nan gave him a gracious smile. “Everywhere I go, I understand that I must win men over. Still, your liege lord invited me to his home and I will be working with your men in the training yard and the butts. I thought you should know before I showed up tomorrow morning.”

  His one eye made him appear more perplexed by her words. “I will give you the opportunity to prove yourself to our soldiers, my lady. ’Tis the best I can do.” Giving her a last look, he said, “Will you excuse me?”

  “Of course.”

  She watched the knight leave, noting how he compensated for his missing limb as he walked. Somehow, he must have fashioned and attached some type of wooden leg to himself so that he could walk. How odd. Tristan had very few soldiers for such a large estate and his captain of the guard was someone who had been severely injured at some point—but was still in charge of the soldiers at Leventhorpe.

  Nan told herself that she would bide her time for now but before she left, she would find the answers to her many questions.

  *

  The following morning, the inhabitants of Thorpe Castle gathered in the chapel for the funeral mass. Nan thought the place seemed abandoned. Cobwebs gathered in the corners. The few windows needed a good scrubbing from all the grime they held. She couldn’t imagine not having a priest on the estate and attending mass every morning since it had been such a part of her life.

  As the priest droned on in Latin, she kept her eyes focused on Tristan and Gillian. They were next to one another but never touched the other. No arm of support around her shoulders or taking hands and drawing comfort. In a way, they appeared to be strangers instead of family members. Nan thought back to the joyous reunions over the years whenever she and her siblings reunited and found it hard to understand these two Theroldes.

  She thought to say a prayer to the Virgin Mary asking for strength and patience as she would begin anew with a group of men who would not respect her. Some might even refuse to listen to her instruction. It would take time and demonstrating her skills to convince the Leventhorpe soldiers of her worth. Nan begged the Virgin to be with her and guide her as she sought to prove herself to strangers.

  Mass ended and people began filing from the chapel. She noted that no one, not even the soldiers present, offered any words of comfort to Tristan. From what she gathered, he had known the two knights for many years. She couldn’t imagine his suffering for she was fortunate enough not to have endured such a heavy loss.

  Returning to the great hall, those gathered broke their fast. Once again, she shared her trencher with Gillian while Tristan had one to himself. Gillian told Nan that she would make sure the solar would be readied for her.

  “Are you certain I should stay in it?”

  “Aye. ’Tis the nicest chamber in all of Thorpe Castle.” Gillian smiled wistfully. “I only wish you could remain in it permanently—as Tristan’s bride.”

  Nan almost choked on the bread she had just swallowed. Gaining her breath and composure, she asked, “Why would you say such a thing?”

  Gillian shrugged. “Because I like you. And I know Tristan does, too.”

  “Did he tell you that?” Nan demanded.

  “Nay. Tristan never tells me much of anything.” Gillian glanced over at her brother. “He keeps his thoughts and feelings to himself but I still know him. He laughs more readily around you. Knowing you has been good for him—and me. I have longed so many times for a sister.”

  Gillian paused. “Forgive me, Nan. I grow maudlin. I am like Tristan and rarely express my feelings.” She sighed. “I love my brother. Truly, I do. But I can’t seem to express that to him. If I did, I fear he would push me away or punish me.”

  Nan took the girl’s hand. “I have noticed how formal you and Tristan are toward one another. You never embrace. You must have been separated for months before we arrived at Shercastle and yet neither of you showed any emotion when you reunited.”

  “It has been like that since I can remember,” Gillian said softly. “Even more so since my parents died.” Her lips trembled.

  For a moment, Nan thought the girl might share a confidence with her. Instead, Gillian sprang to her feet, insisting she needed to speak with the cook and supervise the work in the solar. She fled the great hall.

  Tristan rose. “Are you ready to go to the training yard?”

  Nan stood. “I need to stop by the stables first to retrieve my bows.”

  “Then I will see you in the yard.”

  He stepped from the dais and helped hand her down before walking over to Sir Dawkin. Nan returned to the stables to fetch her gear. Part of her dreaded the opposition she would face from Tristan’s men yet excitement filled her, knowing how the confrontation would end. She was here to help Tristan in any way she could before she left for Ancel’s estate. Hopefully, she could make a difference as he tried to rebuild Leventhorpe.

  David fell into step with her and accompanied her to the stables.

  “How strong are your feelings for Lady Gillian?” she asked him.

  Her cousin laughed heartily. “You never have minced words, Nan. ’Tis one of the things I like most about you.” He grew serious. “I already care for Lady Gillian a great deal. She is a sweet girl and it seems as if we have known one another forever.”

  “What is it you like about her, David?” Nan asked as much for him as for her, thinking how she also had strong feelings for Tristan Therolde, which she doubted she could put into words.

  “’Tis not merely her beauty that turns my head, although I’ll admit that she is most pleasant to gaze upon,” her cousin began. “That beauty goes deep within her. She is kind to everyone, be they servant, soldier, or a member of the nobility. She seems girlish and yet wise beyond her years. When she speaks to you, she isn’t thinking other thoughts in her head. You can see she’s truly engaged in the conversation, from the way she looks at you to the questions she asks. She has a great thirst for knowledge and is eager to learn any new task.”

  He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t claim to understand her relationship with her brother but I believe she has much love in her heart.”

  “And you would like to win her heart and show her how to love.”

  “Aye,” he responded, a smile crossing his lips.

  “Has she indicated she is interested in you?” Nan already knew the answer to her question but wanted to see how David responded.

  “Though she is not good with words, I am certain my feelings are returned.”

  “Will you speak with Tristan soon?”

  David nodded. “I plan to before I return to Sandbourne. I would make a good husband, Nan, I know I would. I have had the best example in the world, growing up and watching how Mother and Father love one another.”

  Nan gripped his arm. “You will be a wonderful husband, David. I hope to find a man half you
r equal, for that would make me very lucky indeed.” She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

  As she turned to go, he caught her elbow. “And what of Tristan?”

  She frowned. “What of him?”

  “There is something between the two of you. I see how he looks at you.” Concern filled his face. “Do you have feelings for him, Cousin?”

  Nan refused to admit aloud the depth of her feelings for a man she could never wed.

  “Tristan Therolde is not for me, David,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “What I want—what I need—and what Tristan can provide are worlds apart.”

  She pulled away from him and hurried away. David caught up to her, keeping silent, which Nan was grateful for. They arrived at the stables and Nan collected her weapons. Waving farewell to David, she hurried to the training yard. As she drew near, she quickly counted the number of men she saw. Tristan needed many more knights to secure a strong defense for his home. The ones present were either very young—which meant inexperienced—or very old. With no pages or squires in training, she worried about the survival of his estate.

  Tristan stood on the raised platform addressing his men. Nan realized he spoke of her and the contributions she would make to their training. An air of restlessness blanketed the soldiers.

  “I ask that you give Lady Nan your full attention when she works with you in small groups or even one-on-one,” he said. “You will be surprised how she will help us.”

  A grumbling permeated the yard. Nan knew she had her work cut out for her.

  “Ah, here she is.”

  Tristan waved her over. He extended a hand. She left her quiver tossed over her shoulder but rested her set of bows on the edge of the platform and allowed him to hoist her up.