by Anne Herries
‘We should leave if we are to reach your dower lands before Newark finds us,’ Zander said. ‘I can protect you from much—but not if we are too heavily outnumbered, so we shall move swiftly and travel through the night.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘Are you able to ride on alone, or shall I take you up with me?’
‘I can ride alone, but you…’ Her words were banished, for to speak of his weakness the previous day might anger or humiliate him.
‘Your herbs have helped me, Elaine. Perhaps you would brew more for me this night?’
‘Yes, my lord. I shall be happy to do anything I can to repay you. I could also help the pain in your cheek—if you would let me?’
‘How do you know it pains me?’
‘Because I can see that the poison has gathered beneath the skin. It needs to be opened and cleansed, the pus removed and then unguents applied to heal the flesh beneath.’
‘Had you seen the wound Janvier tended you would not have thought this so terrible,’ he said and smiled slightly. ‘The pain I bear now is nothing to that I have suffered.’
‘Yet it could be eased, sir.’ Elaine looked at him proudly. She raised her head, gazing into his eyes. If he thought her still a child, he was wrong. ‘I have spent the years you were away learning the skills a chatelaine needs to keep her people well and happy. I have learned much of herbs and healing.’
‘Your mother was a healer, though she died too young—what happened to your father, Elaine?’
‘My father died but a few months since. He had a wasting sickness that none could heal. My cures eased his suffering, but I could not save him—only God could have done that.’
‘Is there a God?’ Zander asked, a twist of bitterness about his mouth. ‘Once I took up the Cross for His sake—but now I question He exists. Only a cruel god would allow the suffering that I have seen, not just on the field of battle—but innocents…children…’
Elaine stared at him. Her faith was strong and it hurt her to hear such words on his lips. ‘It is not God who makes us suffer, but the evil that is in the world and in us. God forgives us no matter what we do.’
‘Such blind faith,’ Zander said. ‘I wish that I could believe as you do, but I cannot—my faith died with an innocent boy and so many others. So much blood stained the earth of the land we call Holy.’
‘I cannot understand what makes you say these words,’ Elaine told him, ‘but I know that you have seen and felt too much. God will forgive you and take you back into His love, Zander. One day He will give you his peace.’
‘When I am dead, perhaps?’ Something flickered in his eyes. ‘Now you see why I am not fit to be your husband, Elaine. Yet I vow to protect you with my life, unworthy as it is.’
Her throat was tight with tears. She did not know what to say to this man. He was bitter and angry, disillusioned with all that had made him the man of ideals and faith she had loved. In truth, she was not sure that she would wish to wed him now.
Keeping her emotions hid as best she could, Elaine allowed him to help her mount her horse. His words had hurt her, but she would not let him see her weep. He was a stranger to her and only time would tell if there was anything left inside him of the man she’d loved.
They rode far and hard. Elaine was weary long before they stopped. When at last they came to a house that it seemed was known to Zander, she almost collapsed into his arms dismounting. He saw it at once and carried her into the house, the door of which opened, as if they expected him.
‘Zander, my friend,’ a tall blond knight said as he came to greet them. ‘Welcome to my home. When I learned that you still lived my heart was gladdened. Come in, friends. My house is yours while you need it.’
‘My lady needs a bed,’ Zander said. ‘She is in danger, Philip, and I have vowed to protect her—for that I may need your help. When she reaches her dower lands it may be that Newark’s men are before us. I do not have the force to make him yield, but he would yield to you.’
‘He will yield or I’ll have him arrested and thrown in gaol. I am the King’s Marshal in these parts and I have forbidden the barons to quarrel amongst themselves. Any that defy my decree shall be outlawed, forced to seek their bread in another land.’
‘Then I can rely on you to protect her,’ Zander said. ‘But where may she rest this night?’
‘Anne will take her to her own chamber,’ Lord Philip Henry of Stornway said. ‘My sister remains unwed, for she cannot find a man that pleases her and, fool that I am, I shall not force her.’
A tall woman came forwards. She was thin, but not uncomely, her long dark hair plaited and hanging down her back. Around her brow she wore a thin band of silver, to which a fine veil was attached. They were not alike—they had been born of different mothers, both of whom had died soon after giving birth.
‘Come this way, sir,’ she invited. ‘I shall care of her this night.’
‘She is but exhausted,’ Zander said. ‘I pushed her too hard, but I feared Newark still hunted for her.’
‘He is not a good man,’ Anne Stornway said, a thin smile on her lips. ‘He asked for my hand when I was but thirteen, but my uncle and brother sent him away. I am five and twenty now and past the age of marriage, but if the earl asked me a thousand times I would not take him.’
Zander nodded grimly, carrying Elaine into the comfortable chamber that Anne led them to. The tester bed was hung with silk damask and the covers were fine Frankish velvet, woven in Rheims. Her pillows were of linen cases stuffed with goose feathers; it was the finest linen to be found in all Christendom, as were the sheets she pulled back so that he could place his precious burden down. For a moment he stood looking at Elaine as her eyelids fluttered and she cried out his name.
‘You are betrothed?’ Anne asked and Elaine heard their voices as from a distance.
‘We were once betrothed,’ Zander said and threw back his hood. ‘How can I ask a gentle lady to look at this every day of her life?’
‘If she loved you, she would seek only to ease your pain. I have unguents that would ease you. I shall give you some. Your servant may treat you, for the wound is healing, but needs something to ease it. I should be glad to offer you my cure, Sir Knight.’
‘You are kind, lady,’ Zander said. ‘I have lived with the pain for months. I can bear it—at least until I have time to rest.’
Anne bowed her head and turned away. Unlike Elaine, she knew better than to argue with a man of his ilk; she had learned as a young girl that it was better to appease than quarrel, though he hadn’t noticed there was a tiny flame of anger in her eyes.
Elaine moved her head on the pillows and her eyelids flickered. Zander looked at her and moved away from the bed.
‘I shall leave you to tend her,’ he said to Anne, walked away and left, closing the door behind him.
Anne gazed after him a moment and then shook her head. Men were such fools. There was no understanding them. And this one roused such feelings in her that she had difficulty maintaining her air of calm, but she must—she must for otherwise she would betray herself.
She moved back to the bed just as Elaine started up in fear. Again she called Zander’s name and looked about her, tears on her cheeks.
‘I dreamed he came to me…’ she said. ‘I dreamed he came back—but he was not the same.’
Anne sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out to touch the younger girl’s face. Anne could feel only pity for this young woman.
‘Hush, lady. Lord Zander is not far away. He is anxious for your safety—but he is a man. They do not understand us or our needs. No man is worth a woman’s tears, believe me.’
Elaine blinked the tears away. She pushed herself up against the pillows, looking at her curiously, for there had been bitterness in her voice. ‘Who are you, lady? I have not seen you before.’
‘I am sister to Philip, Lord of Stornway. In King Richard’s absence he is Marshal here and tries to keep the peace between the warring barons, but ’tis a thankless task. Most a
re too stubborn and too proud. My brother is sorely troubled by their lawless behaviour. I wish that the King would return and bring some order to this land.’
‘You speak truly,’ Elaine said and this time the tears would not be stopped. ‘The Earl of Newark gained my uncle’s trust and then tricked him. He took all that was my uncle’s—and would have had me, too, had I not run away.’
Anne listened to her tale to the end and then nodded. ‘So Lord Zander came to your rescue, but it hurts you because he is not as he was?’ Elaine nodded, noticing the odd look in Anne’s eyes. ‘He has suffered things you could not even imagine, lady. My brother has spoken to returning knights before this. He has told me some of what he heard, but some he hid from me—though I guessed what he would not say. Lord Zander needs time to recover, to heal inside as well as out. One day he will be himself again. He should allow me to help him cure the wound to his cheek, but he is too proud.’
‘I fear that you are right and I hope that he will find peace one day.’
‘Only God can heal what ails him. My brother finds comfort in the Good Lord and so must we all.’ Anne crossed herself piously, but her eyes avoided Elaine’s, as though she would hide her innermost thoughts.
‘Amen to that,’ Elaine said. ‘My faith never wavered. I always believed that God would bring him back to me—but now…’
‘Now your love must be stronger,’ Anne said. ‘You must fight not only for his love, but for his soul. Restore him to his faith and he will be the man you love again. His physical scars may remain, but they will fade and are as nothing to the loss of his soul.’
‘How wise you are,’ Elaine said and smiled at her. ‘I must wait and see what time will do.’
‘As we all must. Now I must go, for my brother needs me to order his house when we have guests. A servant will come to bring food and drink.’
‘I am simply tired,’ Elaine said. ‘I shall sleep well this night, for I know we are safe. Even the Earl of Newark dare not attack the King’s Marshal.’
‘Not here in this stronghold for we are too well protected, but he might if he found us unprotected—that man is more evil than you know. I think there is little he would not dare.’
‘I know well of his misdeeds,’ Elaine said. ‘My serving woman had a sister and she was sent to serve the Earl of Newark’s first wife. When that gentle lady died at her vile husband’s hands, because she gave him a daughter and not the son he craved, she ran away. I found a place for her with my aunt so that she could be close to her sister—but I do not know what happened to her when my uncle was tricked into surrendering the keep.’
‘Then you must take great care—Newark is a vengeful man. Sleep now, lady, and I shall wake you in the morning to break your fast in good time, though your journey should be safer now, for my brother will send an escort with you. If Newark defies them, he will bring the King’s wrath on himself.’
‘Thank you.’ Elaine sighed as Anne went out and lay down, closing her eyes.
‘Zander,’ she whispered, tears upon her cheeks as she drifted into sleep. ‘Zander, please come back to me…’
Chapter Five
Zander stood in the shadows of the room. The slitted window allowed little light into the lady’s chamber, but his eyes were accustomed to the gloom and what light there was fell across her pale face. He had risen before cockcrow to prepare for the next day of their journey and Anne Stornway was already about her business, ordering her servants. She’d told him that Elaine was sleeping and advised leaving her to rest until the last moment.
‘She has suffered a terrible shock and it is as much grief as the strain of riding so far that made her give way last night, sir. You should be gentle with her.’
‘I am but a rough knight, not a courtier,’ Zander said. ‘You do not need to tell me that I am unworthy of her.’
‘What do court manners matter where love is?’ Anne asked, her head up. ‘I do not boast when I say that more nobles than you may imagine have courted me. Only one hath touched my heart, but he died. If I had found another man I counted as true and honourable, I would have wed him, but I have not.’
‘I am sorry for your loss, lady. You would make any man a fine wife, but I dare say your brother could not spare you.’
‘He would be pleased to see me happy,’ she said. ‘I’ve hoped that he would fall in love and bring his bride here to bear me company, but he is as hard to please as his sister.’
Zander laughed. ‘I think Philip hath too much comfort for his own good, lady. Why should he wed when he has you?’
‘I have my uses,’ she said. ‘Once again I offer my cure. It would ease your pain and the redness.’ There was something almost urgent in her tone, as if she wished to force acceptance from him.
‘I thank you, but I prefer to leave such things to my servant.’
‘Very well. Leave your lady to sleep a little longer.’ Anne turned aside, but he caught the flicker of resentment in her eyes and wondered at it.
Zander inclined his head as she went about her work, but he had not been able to resist coming to Elaine’s chamber to look at her. Now that her lovely hair was spread upon the pillows she looked more like the girl he’d loved, though her skin still bore traces of the stain she’d used to disguise herself. She was so beautiful that his heart caught and he longed to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, to feel her soft skin against his and to make her his own—but that could never happen now.
It would be unfair to her. He was not the man she’d loved. War had hardened him, made him bitter. He would hurt her and she might be left a widow before she was hardly a wife. Zander could never break the vow he’d made to avenge his father. In his heart he knew that the enemy he faced was treacherous and so powerful that even he might not survive the fierce fight that must ensue.
Zander was determined to challenge his enemy to single-handed combat, but first he must regain his strength. Janvier had made him more of the cure with the herbs Elaine had given them and, again, Zander felt an improvement. He was not so easily tired and yet still he could not swing his great broadsword with the strength he would need for battle. Much as he wanted to destroy his enemy, he was not yet ready.
Elaine was stirring. He was torn between leaving her and yet he stayed, wanting to see her wake. Her eyelids flickered and he noticed how dark her lashes were despite the fairness of her hair, then her eyes opened and she looked at him. the smile of wonder and joy that spread from her eyes over her face cut Zander to the heart; it was the smile he recalled so well, the smile that had helped him through the pain-racked nights, drawing him back from the very mouth of hell. It was her smile that had kept him hanging on by a thread, his spirit almost done, the pain so terrible that his body craved the peace of death—and yet he had lived. He had lived because she lived, and now he would live to serve her if he could.
‘Zander…’ The note of wonder in her voice made him frown. ‘I dreamed of you…but you are here…’
‘I am real, but not as you knew me.’
Elaine sighed and his heart caught with pain as he saw the joy and the wonder drain from her, leaving only sadness and uncertainty.
‘I am sorry to wake you, lady,’ he said. ‘But we should be leaving soon. I have sent scouts on ahead to see if Newark hath taken your manor and lies in wait, hoping to draw you into a trap.’
‘And if he has?’ Elaine was fully awake now, modestly drawing the sheet to her chest as she sat up. ‘I do not know where else to go.’
‘I have little to offer you. I think my father’s manor may be almost a ruin—but Anne would take you back here until I could find somewhere suitable for you to live.’
‘My lands are all I have.’
‘I brought a fortune home, as I promised you, Elaine. If my father’s manor lies in ruin, I shall buy a house worthy of you. One that hath stout walls, a moat and a gate that can be drawn up.’
‘But…’ Elaine blushed. ‘I should not wish to be a burden to you if…’
&nbs
p; ‘You could never be that,’ he said. ‘I shall leave you to dress, but I pray you come down to the courtyard swiftly, for I would be away.’
He turned and left her, his mind in turmoil. If Newark had stolen all Elaine had, it might be that his only course was to wed her. He knew her pride would forbid her to live on his charity. In that eventuality, she might be left penniless and vulnerable, forced to work as a servant for her bread. Marriage to Zander would then be the better alternative. He would honour and protect her while he lived—and if he died his fortune would be hers. To protect her he would appoint Philip of Stornway as her guardian.
Zander’s heart thudded against his ribs as he went down the twisted stair to the great hall, which was a scene of activity as men prepared to leave with him. Armour and supplies had been loaded onto the packhorses, and knights were already wearing their coats of chainmail beneath their tabards.
Zander saw his squire talking with Lady Anne. She was laughing and talking animatedly, her face alight with interest as she listened to Janvier’s words. Janvier turned his head and saw him; he bowed to the lady and walked towards Zander.
Zander caught the look of annoyance on the lady’s face before it was swiftly hidden and once again he wondered. Why should Anne be angry and yet try to hide it?
He knew that the Saracen’s family was noble, but he was penniless, stripped of his land and much he’d had by marauding knights. What little was left he had given to his mother and sister—all that was left of a once-proud family. He’d refused Zander’s offer of gold for saving his life in favour of becoming his servant, but he was a proud and clever man. By birth and intellect he was the equal of Anne of Stornway, but the colour of his skin and his lack of wealth made him a pauper in a strange land—and not a man her brother would consider fit to be her husband.
What nonsense was he at now? He must have a touch of fever to even think of such things. If the lady could guess at what was in his mind, she would no doubt think herself insulted. Zander smiled sadly. How unfair was life? Would that respect and love were all, but in the world Zander knew pride and prejudice ruled the heart and marriages were made for land, not love.
