Promised to the Crusader

by Anne Herries

  ‘Tell the men that I shall dine here while my lord is away,’ she instructed. ‘They may sup when they are ready. Marion, you will sup with me, but those who wish to eat in the hall may leave us once we have been served.’

  The other ladies got up and left to bring food and wine. Elaine sighed heavily, going to stand at the window once more.

  ‘Looking for Lord Zander will not bring him home, my lady.’

  ‘I know, but I cannot help it. I wish we’d had longer together.’

  ‘He will return to you.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Elaine turned to look at her. ‘You have heard nothing from Bertrand since the earl’s men took him.’

  Marion flinched and shook her head. ‘I know he would send me word if he could. Sometimes, I fear the worst…’

  ‘You think he is dead? How can you bear it?’

  ‘I cry every night,’ Marion confessed. ‘He did not even know that I loved him, for I thought it immodest to tell him until he had asked for me.’

  ‘I am so sorry,’ Elaine said and looked at her with sympathy. ‘Yet perhaps he still lives. If he is a prisoner…’

  ‘He may be suffering at the hands of the earl,’ Marion said. ‘I am not sure whether I should wish him alive or be glad that he can suffer no more.’

  ‘I would always wish Zander to live,’ Elaine said. ‘I know he would bear whatever they did to him in the hope that he might escape and return to me.’

  ‘At least you had one night with him.’

  ‘Yes…’ Elaine turned away, because she did not wish her serving woman to know the truth. her heart ached, because she did not have even that memory to keep and cherish. Zander had kissed her a few times, making her body melt and her longing to be in his arms become a living flame—but she was still untouched. ‘I have my memory…but he will return to me. I know he will.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. I am certain of it…’ Marion looked at her uncertainly. ‘If he should not…will you take another husband?’

  ‘No!’ Elaine shuddered. ‘I would rather die than marry the Earl of Newark.’

  ‘I know. That is why I asked, my lady. If you are to defend yourself against men of his ilk, you need a husband. Lord Stornway loves you. I think you would be happier wed to him than the Earl of Newark.’

  ‘What makes you say such things?’ Elaine frowned at her. ‘How could I think of marriage to any other man when I am just wed to Zander?’

  ‘Forgive me if I offend you, my lady. I saw the way Lord Stornway looked at you—and he told me to send for him if ever you should be in trouble.’

  ‘When did he say that to you?’ Elaine was a little annoyed with her companion. ‘I think he must have forgot himself.’

  ‘You are angry, but I believe he meant it for the best, lady. Without your lord’s protection you are vulnerable here. We have enough men to defend the walls, but we could not withstand a long siege. You need to salt meat and make preserves that would last for several weeks.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say you are right,’ Elaine agreed. ‘While my lord was here there seemed no need, for we had fresh meat all the time—but I should ask the steward how our stores stand and begin to build them. we have feasted often since we came here and I dare say much needs to be replenished. Tomorrow we shall make a start on salting meat—and we should buy more sheep and cattle so that we can prepare for the winter.’

  ‘I think you may need to prepare a great deal of food, should we be forced to winter here rather than move on to a new manor.’

  Elaine nodded. Zander had made other plans, but he had gone to meet and fight with his enemy. She could not be certain that he would return to her again.

  Her steward confirmed that their stores were running low on various goods, including flour, sugar and salt, which was so important for preserving meat for the winter.

  ‘You must send to market and buy enough stores to last us for several weeks,’ she told him. ‘And buy in sheep and cattle so that we can salt meat for the winter—or to withstand a siege.’

  ‘My lord told me he would see to the stores when he returned, my lady.’

  ‘These are my dower lands. I am your lady and you will do as I bid you,’ Elaine said, feeling annoyed because Elgin seemed to imagine she was not fit to have charge of her own manor. ‘My lord will order these things when he is here, but for the moment he is gone. I would be prepared should we have to draw up our bridge because of an attack.’

  The steward looked surprised at her order, but did not question her again.

  Over the next few days, Elaine continued to watch for Zander’s return, but received no word from him.

  A week passed and then another. She and her ladies began to preserve plums, apples and berries and to pickle walnuts—and then to salt meat into large barrels. When after a month, she considered that they were provisioned sufficiently to go through the winter or withstand a siege, Elaine found herself at a loss. She spent hours standing at her window, just looking out into the distance and sighing.

  Where was Zander and why did he not either send word or return?

  ‘You will be ill if you continue to fret for your lord,’ Marion said to her one afternoon. ‘Sit with us, my lady. We have half finished the hanging for my lord’s chamber. Come and see how fine it is.’

  Elaine went to sit in her chair, looking round at her ladies. They regarded her with anxious eyes and she knew they were concerned for her. Marion was right; she was foolish to let her thoughts of Zander occupy her every waking moment. She had not been thus all the years he’d been away fighting, but somehow this time she was shadowed by constant fear.

  Getting up once more, she went to the window of her solar and looked out. ‘I cannot help worrying for him,’ she said. ‘To send word from the Holy Land was much harder, but he is in England—and we are married. He must know that I am anxious. I fear that he cannot send word to me.’

  ‘You should send to the King’s Marshal,’ Marion said. ‘Mayhap he can find out what has happened to your husband.’

  Elaine shook her head. She was reluctant to send to Zander’s friends for help, though she knew it would be the sensible thing to do. Lord Stornway could make enquiries and discover what had happened between Zander and the Earl of Newark.

  ‘I shall wait another week,’ she said. ‘If by the end of that time I have still heard nothing, I shall ask Lord Stornway for help.’

  Elaine woke startled from her sleep. She sat up in bed, shivering and feeling afraid. Her dream had been so terrible that it frightened her even now that she was awake. Zander had been imprisoned in a bleak place. It was a castle surrounded by mist that rose from a deep lake. He’d called to her to help him and she had tears on her cheeks.

  Zander was in trouble and he needed her help. She’d waited another ten days and it was more than five weeks since her husband had slipped away at dawn without waking her. In all that time she’d heard nothing from him. He must be in trouble. Either he was dead or his enemy had defeated him and held him captive.

  Elaine must help him. She could wait no longer. A part of her shrank from asking help from Lord Stornway, but the sensible part of her mind told her that she had no choice.

  She rose from her bed and went to her coffer. It was a handsome chest on a stand and heavily carved, which had been her mother’s. Opening it, she took out a quill, parchment and ink in a closed pot. The ink was still moist, for it had been prepared just the previous day for making a list of linens. Dipping her sharpened quill into the pot, she began to write very carefully.

  My Lord Stornway,

  I have heard nothing from my husband, Lord Zander de Bricasse, for more than five weeks. I am concerned that something terrible has happened to him and I am writing to beg you for news. Could you enquire what has happened to him? I cannot rest while he is away and I hear nothing of his welfare.

  Yours in hope, Elaine de Bricasse.

  Elaine rang a bell to summon her ladies. Marion was the first to respond. She looked at her anxiously
.

  ‘Are you ill, my lady?’

  ‘I could not sleep,’ Elaine told her. ‘My lord has been gone more than five weeks with no word. I am certain that if he could he would have sent a message—either to tell me that he had beaten his enemy in fair fight or that he was in hiding…or taken prisoner.’

  Marion nodded. ‘You wish to send for help to Lord Stornway?’

  ‘Yes, I think I must,’ Elaine said. ‘I have waited too long already, but I would not ask for help too soon, because…’ She shook her head, for it was impossible to explain her fears; they were too vague, too foolish to mention even to the faithful Marion.

  ‘Give me your letter, my lady. I shall give instructions that it is to be sent at once.’

  Elaine looked at the parchment she’d sealed. Even now she was reluctant to pass it over, but she did not know what else to do. Zander had not disclosed his plans to her. She had no idea where he’d gone or what he planned. He might have told his friend Philip Stornway more and her only hope lay in him. If Zander was languishing in some awful prison—as her dream had told her—then his friend might be the only one to help him.

  ‘Yes, take it, before I change my mind,’ she said, thrusting it at Marion. ‘I have no choice.’

  ‘Lord Stornway may know something—and he can find out things that you could not, my lady.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Elaine turned away. She was shivering and cold all over though the day was mild.

  Where was Zander and why had he not returned to her?

  Elaine’s letter brought Lord Stornway that same day. He came late in the afternoon, bowing over her hand to kiss it and apologising for visiting so late in the day.

  ‘Forgive me, lady,’ he said when she greeted him in the hall. ‘I was out visiting a sick tenant when your letter came, but as soon as I had it, I rode straight here.’

  ‘You are very kind. I did not wish to trouble you, sir, but I have heard nothing from Zander.’

  Philip looked concerned. ‘Nothing in all these weeks?’

  ‘Not one word.’ Elaine’s throat tightened with fear. ‘I had thought he would send word to tell me what was happening.’

  ‘I am certain that he would if he were able…’ Philip frowned and reached out to touch her hand. ‘Why did you not send to me sooner? Something must have happened.’

  ‘Do you know where he went? He said nothing of his plans to me—only that he had received some message from the Earl of Newark…’

  ‘I believe the Earl had summoned him to Howarth to settle their quarrel. I understood it was to be by single combat.’

  Elaine closed her eyes as the pain swept over her. If Zander was lost to her, she would be a widow before ever she had been a wife.

  ‘Could you discover what happened?’ she asked. ‘It is but three or four days’ ride from here. Surely Zander would have sent word if…’ The horror of what might have happened made her throat close and she could not go on. She sat down and bent her head, the tears so close that she could hardly bear to look at him.

  ‘Sweet lady,’ Philip said and reached out to touch her shaking shoulders. ‘Fear not, I shall protect you. Whatever has happened…but we shall not assume the worst yet. I will send couriers to Howarth and demand to know what happened there.’

  Elaine looked up at him. ‘I want to know the truth—whether he lives or…’ She shook her head. ‘No, he cannot be dead or I should know in here.’ Her hand went to her breast. She stood up, lifting her head bravely to meet his pitying glance. ‘You think the worst. I can see it in your face.’

  ‘I know he loves you dearly,’ Philip said. He took a step towards her, but then stopped. ‘If he has not sent word somehow…he would not distress you so…and yet he may still live. He may be a prisoner.’

  Elaine gasped, her chest feeling as if a giant hand squeezed it. ‘You will discover the truth—and if he should be a prisoner…’

  ‘I shall do all in my power to release him,’ Philip promised. ‘He is my friend, but even if he were not…I would do anything for you, Elaine. You must know how much I admire you…but of course you do not wish to hear this now.’

  Elaine forced herself to smile. ‘I thank you, sir. Find my lord for me and I shall be eternally grateful.’

  ‘Leave it to me, my lady. No stone shall remain unturned in my efforts to discover Zander’s whereabouts. I shall come to you as soon as I know anything at all.’ He turned to leave the hall.

  ‘You are leaving at once?’

  Philip hesitated, glancing back at her. ‘The hour is late, lady, and I have some leagues to travel.’

  Elaine hardly knew how to answer and yet Zander would never have let his friend go without refreshments—or a bed for the night.

  ‘If…you wished, you could stay the night and journey home tomorrow.’

  Philip smiled. ‘How gracious of you to offer, but I think the tongues might wag if I took advantage of your hospitality at such a time. My men and I will return to the castle and tomorrow I shall begin the search for Zander.’

  Elaine inclined her head, but said no more. Did he think she wanted his company? She had offered from politeness, but would have found it hard to entertain him without Zander at her side. There was something about him that made her uncomfortable, even though she needed his help.

  ‘Where are you, Zander?’ she asked in a whisper none could hear. ‘Why do you not return to me?’

  Holding her head high and fighting her tears, she mounted the stairs to her solar. Lord Stornway believed that Zander was either dead or a prisoner. He had looked at her with sympathy and assured her of his protection.

  What would she care what became of her if Zander were lost to her?

  Entering her room and finding herself alone, Elaine let the tears fall. Why had Zander left her like that…without even saying goodbye?

  She loved him so much and her heart was breaking.

  Lord Stornway had sent a message the next day to say that he was riding to Howarth Castle himself to enquire what had happened between the two men. He had assured Elaine of his regard and vowed to let her know as soon as he knew anything.

  She had spent the next few days pacing about the house and gardens, her heart aching as she tried to maintain hope of Zander’s eventual return, but with each day that passed her fear that he must be dead or a prisoner grew inside her.

  It was almost a week before Lord Stornway came and requested an interview with her. Her heart was in her mouth as she hurried down to the hall and went to meet him. He was still covered with the dust of the journey, and, as she looked into his face, she saw the news was not good.

  ‘You saw the Earl of Newark?’

  ‘He denies all knowledge of Zander,’ Philip said. ‘He denies sending a challenge to him.’

  ‘But the letter came!’ Elaine’s heart stood still. ‘He must be lying.’

  ‘I accused him of it and I demanded that he return your property to you, but he refused. I told him that I should complain of his behaviour to Prince John—and to King Richard, when he returns from his imprisonment…and he said he would consider his situation.’

  ‘I care little for the castle,’ Elaine cried. ‘Where is Zander? What has happened to him?’

  ‘I do not know, Elaine,’ Philip said and hesitated. She sensed at once that he was hiding something.

  ‘What do you know?’ she asked, her hand going to her mouth. ‘There is something you are not telling me…I know it. Please, you must not hide anything from me.’

  ‘I do not know if Newark lies…but someone attacked Zander and his men as they rode towards Howarth. They were outnumbered and, although they fought hard, were overwhelmed.’

  Elaine gave a little scream. ‘He is dead…’

  ‘We do not know what happened to Zander—but one of his men has been found. He was badly wounded and lay close to death for some weeks. When we found him he was still ill, but attempting to return here and tell you the terrible news.’

  ‘Where is he?’ Elaine
asked. ‘Is he here? I must speak with him…I must know the truth.’

  ‘He is lying in bed at my home,’ Philip said. ‘Anne is tending the poor fellow, for he is still weak. I could not bring him, for he might not have stood the journey.’

  ‘Then I shall come to him,’ Elaine said. ‘I will summon Marion and she may accompany me. I must speak to this man and hear his story for myself.’

  ‘I thought it was what you would want,’ Philip said and smiled; he turned his head aside and she missed the sudden gleam in his eyes. ‘Tell your women to pack enough things for the night, because you must stay with us until the morning. Anne will be there to chaperon you.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I shall come,’ Elaine said. ‘My women can send whatever I need on after me. I shall call for Marion. We must go at once. I shall not rest until I hear what has happened to my lord.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Elaine hardly knew what she did as she followed in Lord Stornway’s train. Her face was pale, but she lifted her head proudly and tried not to show that her heart was breaking. Zander had been attacked without warning and was either dead or a prisoner. Newark denied having sent him a letter to ask for a meeting—and would deny all knowledge of Zander if asked. He might languish in the dungeons at Newark or Howarth for years until he died and she would never know.

  Her throat ached with the effort to hold back her tears. She did not wish to break down and let everyone see her grief, but she found it difficult to breathe. Everything was unreal, as if she were moving in a dream—as if a wall of mist imprisoned her. How could Zander be dead and she not know it? She ached as if she had been beaten all over and yet within her some spark of hope clung to the belief that her husband still lived.

  ‘I love you so,’ the words echoed over and over in her head. ‘Zander, do not leave me. What is life to me without you?’

  Tears burned behind her lids, but she would not shed them. If she wept, it would mean that she had given up all hope and she could not give up hope. Zander must still be alive, even if he were imprisoned and unable to write to her.