The Return of Her Lost Knight

by Melissa Oliver

  God, but everything had changed the moment Stephen had come to live with them, years ago. From the first, his cousin had managed to manipulate himself into his father’s high esteem. And be a constant reminder of what it meant to be a knight. The perfect shining example of the heir apparent, or so his father would say. And his cousin had exploited this to his advantage. He’d taunt, bully and put Ralph down at every opportunity.

  Stephen had been everything that Ralph had not. Even Ralph’s physical prowess had been questioned at the time. His cousin being older, so naturally bigger and much stronger than him. Although, judging by what Ralph had seen tonight, that no longer held true between the two of them.

  Even so, Ralph had to tread carefully and not allow his animosity for Stephen le Gros get in the way of his attempt to restore his castle and lands.

  Ralph might have been sorely tested this eventide after Stephen’s unwanted attentions towards Gwen, but he could not lose sight of what he had to do.

  Gwen...

  Ralph’s head was still spinning from everything she had disclosed. He was no closer to comprehending her reasons for refusing to run away with him six years ago than he was now. The certainty of what he had believed to be true was now being challenged even further.

  It seemed that Gwen had not stayed behind for duty alone or because she had not cared for him and wanted to tie her ambitions to whoever would be the next Lord de Kinnerton. No, she had, by her own admission, done it as a way to protect him.

  Protect him?

  How exactly? He tried to recall what she had just said.

  ‘I could not leave with Ralph, as that would have been even more perilous...for him.’

  Had she really thought that he needed protecting? There was something both endearing and frankly disturbing about that. The idea that Gwen might have perceived Ralph too feeble to protect himself, let alone guard her from harm, was too depressing to contemplate. Had that been it?

  There was also another disclosure that had taken him by surprise. She was unmarried, still.

  Why?

  Again, Ralph pondered on the circumstances of Gwen’s life since they parted that fateful day six years ago. What had happened to her in the intervening years? Had she been looked after, protected from men such as Stephen le Gros, who it seemed was still in pursuit of her, damn it?

  There was only one way to find out. Against his very own judgement that he needed to avoid her and banish her from his mind, Ralph realised something, then. He had to see her again.

  Chapter Three

  It was never part of Ralph’s plan to seek Gwenllian ferch Hywel. As well as that, Will Geraint and Hugh de Villiers had warned him that he should not disclose his true identity to anyone and risk exposure. Not yet.

  And God knew that Ralph could not afford to disappoint the two men, who could otherwise relegate him by dropping him off their elite group of knights in this tournament. They were right, too, and yet...

  Yet Ralph knew he had to somehow see Gwen again only to satisfy his curiosity. Especially since he now understood, from her countenance and the sadness in her eyes, that Gwen had mourned him.

  She still mourned him.

  Ralph had been surprised by that. The pull on his conscience that she still believed him to be dead was beginning to sit heavily on his shoulders. He must inform her that he had not perished, if only to allow her some peace of mind.

  More than that it was also becoming necessary to stop drawing attention to them. The fact that she had sought Tom not once but twice, in an open place and on the same day, had certainly roused Stephen le Gros’s notice and was far too dangerous at this particular time.

  Yes, Ralph would tell her the truth to satisfy her curiosity and he’d have to hope that she would keep his secret before parting ways. But how to proceed without rousing suspicion?

  * * *

  All throughout the following day, his mind was preoccupied with this difficulty and the best way forward. But nothing had come his way. Gwen had not made any further appearances. She had not come to the hall in the castle for the evening feast and nor had not been seen anywhere.

  There was only one thing for it. He must take drastic action. Which meant that, against his better judgement, Ralph had agreed to an unwise scheme.

  So, here he was with Tom in the middle of the night, lurking outside the small arched window of the castle keep, where they believed Gwen to be housed.

  God help him!

  ‘What exactly do you mean to do, if you see her?’ Tom muttered underneath his hooded cloak. They were in the deserted part of the inner bailey of the stone castle, crouched low beneath the nearest shrubbery dotted around the small herb garden that infused the moonlit sky with its heady scent.

  Ralph rubbed his chin and the ragged scar on his face, soothing it. ‘I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll know when the moment presents itself.’

  ‘Let’s hope that the happy event presents itself far quicker than you anticipate because we cannot afford to be careless and wake another group of maidens as we just did.’

  ‘And whose fault was that?’ Ralph hissed under his breath. ‘I know this castle as you do not.’

  ‘By all means, go ahead, then, unless you feel inclined to climb that tree outside the window you believe may be hers and give the poor woman the shock of her life.’

  ‘No, I think we should keep this simple, as we planned.’

  But this wasn’t simple at all.

  Fate might have thrown them together again, but how was Ralph to let Gwen know that he was alive, without causing her more alarm and, yes...shock?

  Ralph crept out from behind the shrub with difficulty and hurled the stone in his hand against the wooden shutters of the arched window of the upper storey before diving back. He could hear barking somewhere in the distance, but otherwise there was only the heavy stillness of a velvety night sky, as if in anticipation of the unknown.

  Ralph took a deep breath, realising that he was nervous of disclosing his secret and how it might be received. He was a changed man from the one Gwen had known. Physically he was bigger, from his height to the honed muscles he had attained as a warrior, to the scars covering his body and, in particular, the mangled, distorted side of his face. Would she be repulsed by him and why in heavens should that matter? He swallowed in disgust. The purpose of all this was to unburden Gwen, reveal his existence and make sure that she kept away from him, afterwards. After all, they were as good as strangers now, even though they had once cared for each other. But that time no longer existed and neither did the boy he had once been. The boy she had turned away from.

  ‘I don’t think anyone has stirred.’ Tom frowned. ‘Do you want me to take aim?’

  ‘No, I’ll try once more.’ Ralph crept out and threw a handful of pebbles, one after the other, against the shutter, each one hitting with striking accuracy before he took cover beside Tom. Both men peered from behind the shrubs, but again there was no response. It seemed that no one within the chamber was inquisitive enough to find out the cause of who or what was persistently knocking against the window shutters at this late hour.

  ‘Allow me.’ Tom crawled out to stand and was about to take aim with the small stone clutched between his fingers above his head. Just then the wooden shutters jerked before folding out to open.

  They saw Gwen’s companion stick her head out of the arched window and look in every direction before she spotted Tom below, who had frozen in place, mid-throw.

  ‘What is the meaning of this, Sir Thomas?’ She scowled. ‘My lady has retired for the evening and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.’

  ‘A thousand pardons, Mistress Brida, but we needed to...as in I have ventured to...to...’

  ‘Yes? To do what exactly, sir?’

  Tom took a step back towards the shrub. ‘What shall I tell this prickly woman?’ he whispered from the side of his
mouth.

  ‘Ask after Gwen, since we...as in you...have not seen her today,’ Ralph replied in hushed tones.

  ‘I wanted to enquire after Lady Gwenllian’s health, since I must have missed her today,’ Tom said to the woman. ‘I thought the whole purpose of tonight was for you to reveal yourself,’ he hissed to Ralph, still cowering behind the lush foliage.

  ‘Yes, but she is not the one at the window.’

  Tom pasted his most devastating smile and looked up. ‘Could I trouble you, mistress to ask whether I may have a word or two with Lady Gwenllian.’

  ‘You may, sir, but...er...sadly my mistress is indisposed. She does, however, thank you for your concern.’

  The first rumblings of thunder could be heard overhead. ‘What is it? Is Gwen unwell?’ Ralph asked under his breath as he pushed down the branch to take a better look.

  Tom flicked his hand behind, in a gesture that warned Ralph to stay back where he was hidden. ‘I hope Lady Gwenllian is in good health?’ he asked on his behalf, instead.

  ‘Yes, sir, she is,’ came the terse reply from the window. ‘But my lady is not inclined to, ah...see anyone this evening.’

  ‘Would there be a time she can see me, otherwise? Tomorrow, perchance, after the evening feast.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Ralph hissed.

  ‘Arranging a proper rendezvous for you with her,’ he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Hell’s teeth, Tom,’ he spat, the needles of the shrub digging into his skin ‘This is no jesting matter.’

  ‘Did I say it was? But it seems unlikely that you are going to get past Lady Gwenllian’s angry termagant tonight.’

  ‘Mayhap I should come out.’

  ‘Mayhap you should allow me to arrange this properly, rather than give the poor lady the fright of her life.’

  * * *

  Gwen paced inside the small chamber and snapped her head up. ‘What is it that the man wants, Brida?’

  The chamber was lit by only the last embers of the fire and the light of the pale moon outside, which was rapidly being veiled by dark clouds.

  ‘Sir Thomas Lovent wants to meet you again.’ Brida turned her head around and raised her brows. ‘But I cannot understand why.’

  Neither could Gwen. Yet, there was much she still didn’t understand about what had happened to Ralph de Kinnerton or the disconcerting manner in which his friend had given his ribbon back to her. And she could not shake the feeling that things were not all as they seemed. ‘Could you ask Sir Thomas for his reason?’

  ‘Certainly, but if I may, my advice is to be wary of the man.’

  Gwen’s fingers traced the edge of the coffer absently. ‘Oh, and why is that?’

  Her friend let out an irritated breath. ‘All he’s done since you met him is to drag up the past and upset you.’

  ‘But I believe that sometimes it’s a good thing to have the past dragged up, Brida. To be able to move forward, you have to be able to let go of the past.

  ‘But to what end?’ Her friend scowled.

  ‘So that it can allow me to accept what happened to Ralph, somehow.’ Gwen sat on the edge of the pallet bed. ‘If that is in any way possible, then it can only be worthwhile. Do you not see?’

  ‘Mistress? Would Lady Gwenllian meet me tomorrow?’ Sir Thomas’s muffled voice said from somewhere outside. ‘Only it has started to rain...and it looks to become more persistent.’

  ‘My lady wishes to know why you need to meet her again, sir.’ Brida lowered her voice even more, so that only Gwen would hear. ‘And for the sky to open and the rain to drench you to the bone.’

  A corner of Gwen’s lips curved. ‘Does Sir Thomas bother you?’

  ‘He smiles too much.’ Her friend snapped her head around in exasperation. ‘And my mother always warned me of men who had a propensity to do that.’

  Gwen burst out laughing for the first time for as long as she could remember. A welcome short reprieve, as it had been a particularly miserable day, which accounted for the reasons why she had wanted to be alone. And why she had been crying for much of it.

  Meeting Ralph’s friend had once again brought back everything that had happened between them. Brida had been right about that. Gwen had been upset ever since she had come back to this part of England and spoken to Sir Thomas, whose friendly eyes and easy smiles she was certain hid more than he was willing to say.

  Yet, it somehow eased something inside her to be able to talk about Ralph with someone else who had also known him. Perhaps the more Sir Thomas explained about the life Ralph had led, after he had left Kinnerton under a cloud of danger and uncertainty, the more comfort she might possibly gain. Especially in the knowledge that he had not always been alone, that he has friends such as the man standing below in the rain.

  Gwen inhaled deeply. ‘Tell him that I shall meet him.’

  If Sir Thomas needed to disclose more than he already had, then she would agree to hear him. One last time.

  * * *

  The following evening after the feast, Gwen scurried out of the hall. Tugging the wide hood of her long, grey, woollen cloak over her head, she strode out of the inner bailey, with Brida beside her, as a few bemused guards looked on. Other than looking them up and down, they didn’t approach them, thankfully.

  ‘I’m going to die of mortification, Gwen. They think we’re women of the night.’

  ‘Never mind that. Come along. It would be best not to give them a reason to stop us from leaving the castle.’

  Huddling close to one another, the two women rushed through the gatehouse and along the path that circled around the castle, which eventually brought them to the edge of the nearby woodland. Here, as promised and sheltered beneath a tree, Gwen could just make out the silhouette of Sir Thomas, waiting patiently for them. They continued along the path until they approached him.

  ‘Good evening, my lady.’ He inclined his head. ‘Mistress Brida.’

  Her friend gave him a curt, dismissive nod as Gwen shuddered, realising that they were completely alone in the dead of night with this man. She hoped that she could trust him.

  ‘Good evening to you, Sir Thomas. I hope you have not been waiting long?’

  ‘Not at all, Lady Gwenllian.’

  ‘Well then...here we are.’ She swallowed. ‘What was it that you wished to say to me?’

  ‘Ah, as to that. I’m afraid I have drawn you here under false appearances.’

  Her heart sank as she exchanged a quick look of concern with Brida. Had she been mistaken about this man? Other than being Ralph’s friend he was, after all, a total stranger. ‘Explain yourself, sir, and note we have not come unarmed.’

  He held up his hands and looked solemn when she had expected his mirth. ‘No, you misunderstand, my lady, it is not I who wish to meet you, but someone entirely different.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She scowled, narrowing her eyes. ‘You are talking in riddles, sir.’

  He inclined his head towards the entrance of the woods. ‘The man who wishes to meet with you is there, within, waiting for you. If you take that path and follow it around, you will eventually reach...’

  ‘The big oak tree...’ she said slowly. ‘Every path leads to that old tree. I used to come here a long time ago with...with...’ She suddenly snapped her head up and gave Sir Thomas a withering look. Was this some kind of distasteful jest?

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’ She felt like punching the man. ‘Is this a trick?’

  ‘A trick?’ Of course not.’ He sighed. ‘It’s not a trick, or a riddle, or a miracle either.’

  Gwen rubbed her forehead feeling suddenly weary. ‘What are you trying to tell me, Sir Thomas?’

  ‘Please, my lady. All shall be explained when you enter the woods...alone.’

  Gwen could sense that Brida was about to object to his proposal, but somet
hing about this situation beguiled her more than she could say—more than it really should. It beckoned her forth as though it were pulling her by an invisible thread.

  ‘Very well, I’ll go.’ Gwen lifted her head as Brida stepped forward to follow. ‘On my own.’

  ‘But, my Lady Gwenllian...?’

  ‘Thank you for your concern, Brida. But I believe I shall be safe venturing here on my own. I am acquainted with this surrounding area after all.’

  She took a deep breath and stepped tentatively into the unknown. She looked back behind her occasionally, knowing she could always run back, if she needed to. She walked along the damp sloping path, flanked by the dense copse and towering trees on either side. The air was heavy with a clammy stickiness and eerily silent apart from her thumping heartbeat and her rampant breathing.

  The only light came from the incandescent moon, dancing on the leaves, illuminating her way to the tree.

  Their tree...

  She wondered whether she could still trace her fingers along the ridged, rough tree trunk and find their names—hers and Ralph’s carved into the bark from another lifetime.

  Gwen had never done anything impulsive and certainly not without good reason. Yet something had been bothering her since the moment Ralph’s ribbon had been returned to her. Something that did not quite tally up.

  Either way, she hoped to gain some understanding. Not that she could discern what that could be in these woods. Gwen did not even know who she was supposed to be meeting here. Possibly another friend or associate of Ralph’s who might explain more to her, so that Gwen could finally close that painful part of her life.

  Yet this was nothing new. Gwen had lived and lost before. First her mother, then her sweet, little sister who had lived no more than four short years. Her older brother perished a few years later and finally her beloved father followed suit.