First, the challenge of this mêlée. Ralph turned his head towards what he was about to face and took a deep breath under the metal helmet. Yes, he needed all his focus, strength and resolve if he wanted to succeed here. He rubbed the fabric of Gwen’s token between his thumb and forefinger, hoping to extract some luck that she had imbued before tying the gloves to his wrist.
He stepped forward and sent a silent prayer to the heavens. He would give it everything that he had, this was his...his tourney to win. And the time was nigh.
* * *
The triumphant celebrations extended in the de Clancey tent later that evening. This time, however, his friends could honour his victory properly without the pretence of congratulating the acclaimed knight Sir Thomas Lovent in front of King Henry’s court.
Soon, however, very soon Ralph would step out from behind the guise of his friend’s armour...as himself. But for now, he would bide his time for just a little longer.
Ralph scanned the small space and smiled faintly to himself. It was a moment of shared merriment—eating, drinking with a gratifying sense of satisfaction, tinged with relief. He had won today and gained considerable loot in the takings, even after distributing some silver to Tom and their young stable lad. From ornate silver shields and expensive swords to a young foal and even ransom money. He took a sip from his mug and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. But he could not have done any of it without the help of his friends and mentors whose belief in him exceeded his own and who went to exceptional lengths to support and aid him.
It humbled him to think that they did this for him, not that he understood why, nor that he really deserved their esteem, but even so... Words could never truly express the extent of Ralph’s gratitude.
‘You seem a little pensive, Ralph.’ Isabel sat beside him on the small bench.
‘Do I? I’m little taken aback by today’s success, that is all.’ He shook his head, sighing.
‘Believe it, for you deserve this more than anyone I know.’
He covered her hand, giving it a squeeze in gratitude. ‘My thanks, Isabel.’
Yet there must have been something in his manner as a furrow appeared in the middle of her forehead. Ralph knew too well that nothing much escaped Isabel de Clancey’s perceptive eye.
‘Come, this is an agreeable moment. A good moment. One you have worked hard for,’ she said softly.
‘It is,’ he said absently, his voice sounding a little gruff.
‘There is something else, is there not?’
An unfathomable feeling of desolation engulfed him, however hard he tried to shift it. It made him uneasy, detached even in such a congenial company of friends. He sighed and shook his head.
‘No, all is well, I promise.’ It was better to convince her that all his concerns centred around the reason for their celebrations, despite the win today. ‘I cannot lose sight that this is just one mêlée, Isabel, even though it certainly helps towards covering some of my previous losses.’
‘Yes, and from here on you can strengthen and build on your success.’
‘I shall certainly try.’ His smile became a little solemn. ‘I want you to know that I couldn’t have done any of this without any of you. You have stood by me when anyone else would have walked away. I’ll always be indebted to you.’
‘Please.’ She waved her hand. ‘I vowed from the moment I set eyes on you that I would do everything I could to help you after the way in which you were attacked and left to die. So, no, you owe neither me nor Will anything.’
But that was not true. He would always be honour-bound, his allegiances forged to Isabel, Will and every person here.
‘Listen to me, Ralph...’ she sighed ‘...you are close now. So close to getting everything you’ve set out to achieve. It is within your grasp, if you just reach out and grab it.’
Was it? He wasn’t so sure. But there was also another who had always championed and believed in him.
Gwen...
He had not seen her properly today. Not since before the start of the mêlée. She had also been absent from the banquet, which had sent darts of concern through him. There had been something about her demeanour when she had spoken with his cousin that troubled him. Still troubled him.
Notwithstanding that, Ralph could not help but feel a little restless, a little hollow despite this achievement. It was always the same for him on occasions like this when he had a moment to reflect and ponder about his life, the past, present and also future itself. It left him morose, somehow bereft and unsettled, when he should be far more buoyed by the win. Damn, but he wasn’t even certain what his future might hold. Not with any clarity. But it would be one without Gwenllian ferch Hywel. That much was certain.
She might not have married as he had expected her to, but had still chosen a different path for herself. One that she still intended to pursue and which did not include him. Ralph knew he should not care, not after all this time when so much had changed, and yet...
There had been a discernible closeness that seemed reassuringly familiar yet surprisingly different when Gwen had invited him to her chamber.
‘Tell me your hopes and dreams...’
He had regretted asking her that nonsense. Yet, when Gwen had showed him her elaborate penwork on the parchment, she revealed much about herself in the process. The way she had held on to his hand, gently guiding him to align the marks he was making to her proficient ones. It was a glimpse through her eyes to the very heart of her enjoyment, the pleasure she gained. It had been fleeting, but it had been a window into Gwen’s heart in some small way.
His eyes fell to his sword perched against the bench beside him and to the small length of woven green fabric—Gwen’s token that she had made and embroidered. And that she admitted imparting a little of herself in her creations. And this...this small piece of her now belonged to him.
Ralph stood, with a sudden tangible desire to be alone, to ride somewhere away from here. Above all else, Ralph wanted...nay, needed to see her.
To see Gwen. To get the answers he so desperately sought.
‘Yes. It is within my grasp, Isabel. And I hope I can take your advice and grab it.’ He bowed with a real smile spreading on his lips. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lady.’
Chapter Twelve
Gwenllian expelled a big breath before she opened the wooden shutters to her window. She leant outside, drawing the cool night air into her lungs, and blinked. She had not expected this, not tonight after Ralph had performed spectacularly well in the mêlée. Yet the moment she heard a sound of something hitting her shutter, she knew that he was here, somewhere below. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, trying to ascertain where Ralph was, but once again he was much closer that she had thought.
‘Good evening, my lady.’ His deep, low voice rumbled through her from somewhere beneath the canopied branches of the tree, close to the window.
‘I did not think to see you, Ralph. Not tonight,’ she hissed. ‘I thought that you would be celebrating with the de Clancey retinue.’
‘And so I was until I decided to take a diversionary tour of the castle.’
‘Did you, indeed? And yet I believed you to be quite familiar with all it has to offer.’
‘Alas, not familiar enough.’
She felt her skin prickle and flush. Lord, but her reactions to him were ridiculous.
‘I had never realised you had such a penchant for hiding in the darkness.’ Her lips twitched. ‘Will you not step out from under it?’
‘Very well.’
Gwen grinned as Ralph leant across and tilted his head, returning her smile. She marvelled how his handsomeness was not lessoned in any way by those scars zigzagging across the right side of his face.
‘Good evening to you, too, Ralph. I am still trying to determine why you hide in shadows and under branches thick with leaves?’ She had hoped
her voice had been somewhat light and teasing, yet he replied earnestly.
‘I know what I am, Gwen, what I was and what I still need to be,’ he murmured softly. ‘The scars that I carry may be grotesque, but they serve to bring back to mind everything that happened...lest I forget.’ She watched as he rubbed his fingers over them roughly.
‘I’m sorry, I did not mean to...’
‘I know.’ He smiled. ‘And at least they don’t scare every child I meet. William Tallany, for instance, admires them greatly.’
‘I can imagine.’
It was remarkable that Ralph could dispense with any notion of regret despite the horrors that he must have experienced in Aquitaine when she could not move past the horrors that she had experienced at Kinnerton. That she still carried with her.
‘So, tell me whether this diversionary tour of yours has been to your liking?’
‘It has certainly been different.’
‘Oh, how so?’
‘Well, for one, being perched on a tree from this high vantage point does put a distinctive perspective on things.’ He moved along the branch to get closer to her, balancing a little precariously. ‘It makes a man realise how insignificant and fallible he is, especially if he were to fall.’
‘Careful,’ she said trying to keep the worry out of her voice. ‘What was your other insightful understanding?’
‘Ah, well, that would be for this. The opportunity to talk to you so freely.’
She bit her lip and dropped her head before turning her attention back to him. ‘I must congratulate you, Ralph. You did splendidly well today, you know.’
‘And yet I must come here directly for your congenial compliments as you were absent at the banquet or anywhere else for that matter. I hope that you are well and that I am not intruding on your evening?’
‘I am perfectly well, sir, and you are not intruding on anything.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ He dragged his long legs and dangled them over the thick branch of the tree that just about supported his large frame. ‘In that case, could I tempt you to go for a ride on horseback...with me?’
‘Now? At this time?’ Her eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t expected this. ‘Do you not think it might be a little late for horseback riding?’
‘Mayhap, but it seems also possible that this evening has not been diversionary enough.’ He chuckled, looking so much younger and so much like the Ralph she remembered.
‘Sadly, I have no taste for such diversions.’
‘Come now, it might be late and the time may not be conducive to riding, but where is your sense of adventure, Gwenllian ferch Hywel?’
‘How well you say my name. Yet you must know that I left that on that cliff-edge near Kinnerton and the Welsh borders so long ago, when I almost toppled down the ridge.’
‘Oh, Lord, I forgot about that!’ He dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘Do you remember how I caught you by the scruff of your cloak?’
‘Yes, I do. It was both terrifying and so ridiculously funny. We collapsed into a peal of hopeless laughter, once you dragged me to safety.’
And into his arms... It had also been the first time that Ralph had kissed her—so sweet, so wondrous, filled with wistful promises of a future together. She heard him clear his throat, making her wonder whether he had been thinking about the same memory.
‘I do remember that we got very lost on the way back to Kinnerton as the path we took had flooded.’
‘And got back very late in the dead of night, much to your father’s consternation. Had he not sent guards in search of us?’
‘He had, if my memory serves, much to his chagrin.’ He frowned but then lifted his head. ‘Well?’ ‘Are you coming, my lady? Shall we get lost together?’
‘I am not so sure it would be a good idea, Ralph.’
‘Well, I must say, that is a shame.’ He descended down the next branch below. ‘Since there was a time when I recall that you’d welcome such an impulsive expedition, but no matter... I’m sure I’ll enjoy my horseback ride just as much alone...with no other company but my horse.’
He let the moment stretch, emphasising his point further.
‘Very well.’ She chuckled. ‘I’ll come, but only so you do not have to suffer being alone and having no one but your horse for company.’
He smirked. ‘I’m very much obliged to you, Gwen.’
‘Wait while I dress as a squire, Ralph. I think it prudent to do so.’
‘If you so wish, but hurry, my lady.’
‘Only if you assist in helping me down. I have no head for heights, as you may also recall.’
‘Don’t worry, Gwen. I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.’
* * *
They made their way carefully down the tree, around the castle wall and through the damp gatehouse shrouded under their dark cloaks, their heads bent low. Ralph fetched his huge black destrier and brought him around to where Gwen was standing, keeping watch.
‘Here he is. Meet Fortis.’
‘Oh, he’s magnificent.’
Ralph grinned, dragging his hand up and down the animal’s muzzle. ‘That he is, are you not, my friend.’
Gwen tried to also pat the horse, but he jerked away. ‘Temper? Or is he a little nervous?
‘Probably a bit both.’ Ralph chuckled. ‘That could be why we get on so well. Isn’t it, boy?’
‘I see. And is he brave?’ she asked, holding out her hand and allowing the horse to come to her, before she could smooth down its velvety flank.
‘I believe so.’ He nodded. ‘I doubt I could have got through the many challenges I’ve faced without him.’
‘How long has he been with you?’
‘Since Poitiers.’ He nuzzled the horse, scratching him along his neck. ‘I reared him from when he was an anxious young foal, who no one seemed to care for.’
‘Except you, Ralph. You always had a way with jittery animals.’
He shrugged. ‘It was nothing that a bit of encouragement, patience and care couldn’t solve. But don’t be fooled by him. Beneath his gruff manner, he’s a softy really.’
‘Like his master?’
‘I could not say, my lady.’ He smiled wryly as he mounted the horse, holding out his hand. ‘Shall we put him through his paces?’
‘Yes. Let’s.’
* * *
It was a wonderful feeling, galloping along the open fields, wrapped in Ralph’s strong arms, as he gripped on to the reins tightly from behind her. She felt secure. She felt safe, here alone with Ralph, riding nowhere in particular in the dead of night. Gwen pulled the hood of her cloak down, and felt the cool night breeze against her skin.
The rush of riding at high speed across the hilly valley that gently rolled into the thicket under the full moon allowed her a sense of freedom that she rarely felt. This wonderful, exhilarating sensation that stirred her blood and put colour on her cheeks made her feel alive.
For the first time in a long time she was not weighed down by the burdens of her secrets.
‘You’re very quiet this evening.’ She felt Ralph’s breath brush against the side of her neck.
‘I was just thinking the same about you.’
‘Mayhap we are both consumed by our own reflections.’
‘Or possibly that we are so enthralled by such vigorous exercise that it somehow removes the need for conversation.’
‘Aye, just so.’ He chuckled. ‘That would be the reason.’
‘In case that is a wrong assumption, what were these reflections of yours?’ she said over her shoulder, without realising that he had leant so close his lips were a fraction away from the skin on her nape.
‘My reflections are from the past, I suppose, merged with ones forged from being reacquainted with you again. Here at this tournament.’
‘Then there is much to
contemplate.’
‘Either way, Gwen, I’m glad to be away from it all for just a moment, with you and Fortis as company.’
‘Thank you. Yet I would have thought you’d have wanted to celebrate with your friends after your success earlier.’
‘Trust me—’ his deep low murmur rumbled through her ‘—there is no other place I would rather be than right here with you.’
As did she. God above, despite all her best intentions to stay away, Gwen was enjoying being here with Ralph far more than she should. It granted something precious to her, otherwise, bleak life. It must be the freedom of riding on horseback again, away from the stifling atmosphere of the tournament...as well other unpleasantness. But Gwen didn’t want to be reminded of any of that. Not tonight.
They rode down the steep hill, still within the demesne of Castle Pulverbatch, and slowed to a canter as the path gradually led to a thick dense coppice.
‘I wish I had thought to bring something to drink. I cannot think why I’m so parched.’
‘Well, it’s just as well that I brought some ale.’
‘That is most thoughtful.’
Ralph dismounted and helped her down, his fingers flexed around her waist a moment longer than really necessary, the heat imparting from his hands spreading through her body. He caught her gaze and gave her a slow smile that made something inside her unfurl. This reaction to Ralph bewildered her and was something quite different, this breathlessness, to anything she had ever experienced when they had been younger. It befuddled her senses.
‘Here.’ He handed the flagon from his saddlebag. ‘I think the exercise has brought on a glow to your face, Gwen.’
The Return of Her Lost Knight Page 13
