The Return of Her Lost Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  No more. He was now a different man to the one he had been back then and he could not lose sight of what was important here. He had to stop thinking about the past and look to the future. A future that could only be his if he was determined, resilient and focused enough.

  Tom approached him, ‘Come, let’s retire to the castle and get some much-needed food. It will be quite the feast with King Henry in attendance.’

  Ralph lifted his head and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

  ‘Ah, so you have reconsidered everything to do with Lady Gwenllian.’

  ‘Yes, I do understand the need for caution.’

  ‘If only you had thought of that before, my friend.’

  ‘I do realise that.’ Ralph sighed in exasperation. ‘But I can rectify that now, by keeping away and avoiding her altogether.’

  ‘And I suppose that would also include our absence from the hall tonight?’

  Ralph nodded as he turned to his friend and placed his sword back in its scabbard. ‘I’ve imposed much on you, Tom.’

  ‘You have.’ Tom smiled wryly. ‘But I’m sure I’ll live, without the good wine, delicious food and convivial company that I would surely enjoy. Who needs that anyway?’

  ‘Who, indeed?’ He nodded at him. ‘My thanks, Tom. You’re a good friend.’

  His smile stretched to a grin. ‘I know.’

  * * *

  The following day, despite their best endeavours to keep a low profile, Lady Gwenllian sought out Sir Thomas anyway. They were in an area, used by knights to practise with their various weaponry which they intended to use in the mêlées and tourneys. Here, the many Lords and their retinues were segregated by the tents dotted in between, but it was still a good a place to observe the competition and find possible weaknesses.

  What it was not, however, was a place for a beautiful young woman like Gwenllian to be walking in with just her maid or companion, who was of a similar age. He could see the men’s heads turn as the women strode in their direction.

  Ralph pulled the rough edge of the hood of his cloak so that it draped over his head, keeping it bent low. ‘Don’t look now, but Gwenllian is here and heading this way.’

  Tom groaned as he peeked over his shoulder at them. ‘Oh, God, has the woman no sense at all?’

  Ralph flicked a glance at her as she quickened her pace towards them, her head held high, the cream veil covering her head flowing softly behind her. ‘Gwenllian has imminently more sense than you, my friend.’

  ‘One would never know judging by this conduct.’

  Ralph’s heart pounded in his chest as she sidled next to Tom, with her female companion in tow.

  ‘Greetings, my lady,’ Tom said as Ralph kept his head down, staring at the ground.

  ‘Sir Thomas.’

  ‘And to what do I owe this pleasure?’

  ‘Once again you find me seeking you in what you would, probably, consider an inappropriate place for me to be seen,’ she said in a clipped tone.

  ‘I’m afraid so, Lady Gwenllian.’

  ‘You left me with little choice since you did not come to the hall yesterday evening, sir.’

  ‘Ah... I can only apologise, my lady but I had much to attend to after a very poor spectacle in the exhibition event yesterday. In fact, I must beg to leave now, as I have to meet my Lord de Clancey.’

  Tom began to move away with Ralph following him.

  ‘Wait, sir, and hear me out,’ she said in exasperation. ‘I do understand the importance of a tournament such as this. Especially for a knight bent on making his fortune, Sir Thomas, but forgive me, sir, it was you who sought me yesterday. Or have you forgotten?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. I suppose I did.’

  ‘And I mean to find out why, sir.’

  ‘My lady, I cannot say the reason to...’

  ‘Please... Sir Thomas. I do not mean to intrude on your time, but if you would only give me your word that I would have the pleasure of your company in the hall this evening, with the promise that our discourse shall be brief... I shall not importune you any further.’

  Tom didn’t answer at first, but eventually Ralph heard him reply in resignation, ‘Very well, my lady. Until this evening.’

  Ralph then heard the soft footsteps of the women as they walked away. He lifted his head and pulled his hood down, rubbing his jaw. ‘Well, then. So much for avoiding Gwenllian ferch Hywel.’

  * * *

  Gwen looked around the busy hall of Pulverbatch Castle—a castle that was familiar to her from when she lived at Kinnerton. Although, if memory served, it had always been usually uninhabited.

  Yet, for the purposes of this tournament, the Earls of Chester and Hereford had jointly agreed to host the festivities here for the first time ever.

  A makeshift solar with numerous chambers had been arranged for King Henry and his royal party, with bedchambers arranged for the women, in the keep, with a constant guard at the entrance to the stone, spiral staircase to hold out any unwanted attentions from unscrupulous knights.

  Gwen’s eyes darted around the noisy, chatty room as people gorged and indulged themselves with the plentiful offerings of the evening feast. At the far end, the young King sat on the dais, looking bored, flanked by his guards and the two hosting Earls. The women sat demurely around the periphery in one corner, lending the banquet a semblance of formality, as Lords sat with their entourage of knights in small clusters around the hall.

  ‘Thomas Lovent said he’d be here.’ Gwen sipped ale from a mug as she continued to glance around the room.

  ‘Be patient, Gwen, he did say he would come tonight.’ Brida stabbed a piece of mutton with her knife and placed it on her pewter plate, spooning some of the accompanying sauce over the top.

  Patience?

  Patience was something she’d always be relied on to have in huge abundance. Not out of choice but of necessity. And on this particular night Gwen felt a certain inexplicable restlessness. She needed to know everything that had happened to Ralph, even though she feared it might be upsetting. She yearned to know that there was nothing she could have done to prevent it, though she knew that by letting him leave that night she’d done plenty to ensure his demise. Losing her appetite, she pushed her plate away.

  She just needed his friend to explain more, which he strangely seemed reluctant to do. Why? Mayhap there was something that had happened to Ralph that was far too difficult and disturbing to disclose.

  It seemed odd, however, that Sir Thomas Lovent would make such a public demonstration of giving back Ralph’s ribbon at the start of an exhibition tourney and then avoid her request to talk about his deceased friend. There was no doubt in Gwen’s mind that had she not pursued him again earlier he would have avoided her still. Yes, there was something about Sir Thomas Lovent that bothered her. It was the way he could barely meet her eyes as if he were concealing something.

  ‘There—what did I tell you? He’s here.’ Brida took a bite and motioned to the entrance of the hall. ‘Admittedly, a little late.’

  Gwen flicked her gaze to the tall, powerful, broad-shouldered knight with golden hair and friendly green eyes. Sir Thomas spotted her and nodded in her direction before moving to sit with his lord’s retinue. He was followed by another man, as tall and broad shouldered as Thomas Lovent, with a deep hood covering his face and his head bent low. He was the same man she had noticed earlier in the day when she had sought Sir Thomas in the practice area. Gwen frowned at them.

  There was something odd about the hooded man. Something slightly unsettling. For one thing, he looked frankly a little too old to be a knight’s squire. And another was that he seemed strangely familiar somehow. Gwen wondered whether she had encountered the squire somewhere before, but surely that was not possible.

  She rose abruptly and looked down at Brida. ‘Let us go now and get this m
eeting over with.’

  ‘No, wait. Allow the man to settle before you bombard him with your questions.’

  Heaven help her, but it was at that very moment that Gwen saw another man she certainly did recognise. Unable to move, she felt as though she had turned into stone.

  Oh, Lord above...

  Stephen le Gros sat across the hall underneath the arch with a group of Kinnerton hearth knights. And as usual, he was watching her in a way that made her skin crawl, assessing her in a manner that made her feel stripped bare. Exposed.

  Gwen knew that the possibility of seeing the man was highly likely, but she didn’t expect it to be this soon. His predatory gaze made her feel as though she were once again being hunted. God, how she hated him. Hated how he had changed her life irrevocably. She schooled her features and gave him a bold stare of her own as the man’s lips curled up. He raised his mug and nodded at her, his smile turning into a sneer.

  She wanted to turn her head, to look away, but, no...she was not going to give the man the satisfaction of seeing her affected by his vile attempts at intimidation.

  Instead, Gwen rose and moved towards the area where Thomas Lovent sat. She might be reckless as well as a little foolish, but her patience had worn thin and, in any case, she had to get as far away as possible from Stephen le Gros’s lingering gaze.

  Gwen pushed the man out of her head and thought about what she hoped to achieve from this exchange with Thomas Lovent. She wanted peace—nay, she needed it after carrying the guilt of Ralph de Kinnerton’s death around for too long. It might be irrational, but it never shifted. It never allowed her a moment to ease her conscience.

  ‘Good evening, Sir Thomas.’

  He stood and took the hand she offered, bending his head over it.

  ‘My lady,’ he muttered, without meeting her eyes. ‘Come, we can talk here in this quiet corner.’

  Yet the appointed corner held the tall shadowy figure of his squire or manservant, who had followed Sir Thomas into the hall and who stood rigidly in the dark, his head covered beneath a hood. Well now, it was hardly that quiet or private.

  How strange.

  ‘I had hoped this conversation would be in confidence, sir.’ She indicated with a nod to the dark silhouette standing behind Sir Thomas.

  ‘Naturally my lady, but please do not mind him. My man is sadly a mute and an oaf, Lord help him, but he’s loyal to a fault with the necessary brawn so extremely useful.’

  ‘I see. Well, as long as you’re sure.’ She remained a little uncertain, but complied, nodding and conveying to Brida that she would be talking to the man privately.

  ‘Now then, Lady Gwenllian, what is it that you’d like to know?’

  ‘As I have said, Sir Thomas, I’d like to know everything. Everything that could fill in the gaps with what happened to Ralph after he left Kinnerton and then later met his...his demise.’

  ‘Allow me first to offer you some ale,’ he said as he poured into two mugs and handed one to her.

  ‘My thanks. Now, please tell me about Ralph.’ Gwen would not let him stall any longer.

  ‘Very well,’ he said softly. ‘I met Ralph de Kinnerton a few years ago in Poitiers, where we served together in Lord Aligner’s mesne. We became fast friends, being of a similar age and disposition.’

  ‘I see.’ But, no, Gwen didn’t see. As courteous and gallant as Thomas Lovent seemed to be, he was evidently a powerful warrior and so unlike Ralph in every way, with his gentle nature.

  ‘Ralph was increasingly uneasy, increasingly worried about threats that were directed at him alone, rather than our garrison...and yet there was nothing tangible that he could lay his finger on. He sensed there was danger around him, but never found out the truth.’ Sir Thomas sighed, taking a sip of his ale. ‘Then one day he went out with a small patrol of soldiers...’

  ‘And never came back.’ Gwen swallowed.

  ‘Yes, exactly.’ He nodded grimly.

  ‘I presume you hadn’t gone with him.’

  He grimaced. ‘No, I’m afraid I had not.’

  They sat in silence for a moment before Sir Thomas met her gaze again. ‘As for the ribbon, well, naturally Ralph left it in his possessions. When I saw you yesterday morn, I thought it may be best that I returned it to you. It was never meant to cause you any distress, otherwise I would never have given it back.’

  There was something far too polished about his answer. As if it had been rehearsed, but that made no sense. Gwen’s gaze shifted over Sir Thomas’s shoulder to where his rather large squire stood rigidly, shrouded in darkness, and she swallowed uncomfortably. There was something disturbing about the man standing there listening to this discourse. She still wondered why it was quite so necessary that he be there at all. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it...

  She dragged her eyes back. ‘Ralph told you about me?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, Lady Gwenllian.’

  ‘Well, then you know about how things stood between us.’

  ‘Indeed.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But what I do not know and what Ralph never understood fully was why you refused to leave Kinnerton with him. He said something about doing your duty or some such?’

  Was Gwen imagining that he had raised his voice a little louder?

  And how was she to explain to this man? ‘It was complicated.’

  ‘I’m sure it was, Lady Gwenllian but I hope you can comprehend that, for my friend’s sake...for the sake of his memory, I had to ask.’

  ‘That was the reason in itself, sir,’ she said slowly. ‘It was for Ralph’s sake that I couldn’t run away with him.’

  His brows drew in together. ‘I am not sure I understand. Were you both not exposed to the same danger that rose after Kinnerton Castle was seized and Ralph’s father accused of treason?’

  ‘I can see that you know the whole of it.’

  He gave his head a little shake. ‘Yes, but I only know everything from Ralph’s perspective.’

  Sir Thomas’s squire shifted in an agitated way that caught Gwen off guard. ‘Is your squire well? Perhaps he’d like to sit somewhere?’

  ‘No, do not concern yourself with him, my lady. He is fine where he is.’

  ‘I suppose you know best.’ Her brows met in the middle, uncertainty making it difficult for her to tear her eyes back to the knight who sat in front of her. ‘To answer your earlier question...no. The danger that I was exposed to, as you put it, was very different to the real one Ralph faced. For me, that same danger assured me a measure of protection, strangely enough.’

  ‘I do not understand.’

  No one needed to know that part of Gwen’s reasoning and she was in no mind to explain herself. No one save Brida knew the truth of exactly what she had done to ensure Ralph’s safe passage. In any case, the risk she had taken had somehow paid off, when she had managed to leave Kinnerton Castle as well soon after.

  ‘It’s of no consequence, Sir Thomas—besides, I soon became the Crown’s ward, so the danger you allude to never applied to me in the same way as it did to Ralph.’ She sighed. ‘The truth was that I could not leave with Ralph, as that would have been even more perilous...for him.’

  ‘You were—’ he raised a brow ‘—protecting him?’

  The man seemed incredulous that a woman would deem to protect a man.

  ‘Yes. Much good it did me,’ she said bitterly.

  He watched her for moment before looking away. ‘I am sorry for that, Lady Gwenllian.’

  She suddenly sensed a presence behind her and snapped her head around to find Stephen le Gros standing over her. Yes, a very unwelcome presence.

  She bristled with indignation that he was here, standing close to her, in such a presumptuous way. Yet she could hardly make a scene in such a public place, with King Henry and his court in attendance.

  ‘And what exactl
y do you have to be sorry for, sir?’ Stephen le Gros scoffed.

  Gwen’s stomach twisted in an angry knot as the knight who sat opposite her stood. And she prayed that was all the conversation that Stephen had heard.

  Suddenly the air was charged with a palpable tension, emanating from not only Sir Thomas, but strangely from his man standing in the shadows. For some unfathomable reason, she sensed the menacing mood as a prelude to a brawl. And although she welcomed the intervention of Sir Thomas and his shadowy squire as they towered over Stephen le Gros, it would not do.

  She shot up, addressing Sir Thomas. ‘I thank you for giving me your time, sir.’

  ‘It was a pleasure, my lady. May I be of service and escort you back to your husband?’

  She smiled weakly. ‘That won’t be necessary—besides, I am unmarried, sir.’

  Stephen le Gros stepped towards her and wrapped his clammy hand around her elbow. ‘Come, my dear.’

  She yanked it free as discreetly as she could manage from the overbearing man and inclined her head slightly, ignoring Stephen. ‘Good evening, Sir Thomas.’

  * * *

  It had taken all of Ralph’s resolve not to go after Gwen and make sure that his repellent cousin was as far away from her as possible and that she was well. But he couldn’t risk it. It had been close. Far too close. The fact Stephen le Gros was even touching Gwen in that familiar manner made his blood boil and almost made him act.

  Almost...

  The man had taken everything from him. Not that Ralph could prove that the insurgency and treachery against his father had been instigated by his cousin. But there was no doubt that Stephen le Gros had been behind it all, allying himself with his father’s enemies. His cousin had his father’s blood all over his hands as well as the attempt on Ralph’s life in Aquitaine, two years ago. And the temptation to end it here and now had been shockingly inviting.

  Ralph’s hand had clenched tightly around a dagger, concealed by his hood, his knuckles white as he fought to control the urges to plunge it into the man’s chest. Yet that would not help further his cause. Ralph had to somehow hold on to his temper, needing the patience he never had when he was younger. He would achieve nothing if he were to vent all of his anger, here, in front of the King, the Marcher Earls and his court.