Her Knight Protector

by Anne Herries

  ‘Yet think of the good it might do in the right hands.’ Alain’s eyes lit with fervour. The Holy Grail was a prize beyond price, something that any true Christian must venerate. ‘Think of it, Bryne—the cup that Christ used just before his death.’

  ‘That is true,’ Bryne agreed with a frown. ‘The pilgrims would travel far to pray at such a shrine—but where does it belong, my friend? Who hath the most right to own it? Methinks it is too valuable for any man to possess. It would be a burden rather than a blessing.’

  ‘Yes, for some.’ Alain nodded. He could see Bryne’s point of view, though for him it was a find of such wonder that he could only marvel at it. ‘Always supposing that it is the cup men have sought since the crucifixion.’

  ‘Sometimes rumour is enough. A story of tears from a statue will bring the desperate flocking in their droves to pray—think what this cup would do,’ Bryne replied. He smiled crookedly at his companion, but there was a look of determination in his eyes. ‘Methinks we may rue the day we met with the Lady Katherine—yet, I am of your own mind, Alain. We must stay with her until the treasure has been placed in safer hands.’

  ‘I had thought you wanted to spend some time in England?’ Alain raised his brows.

  ‘It was my intention and remains so—but my own concerns may wait until this matter is ended. I would have no harm come to Lady Katherine by my neglect. I respect her too much to have her fall prey to that rogue. Ravenshurst shall not lay hands on her while I breathe, though I would beg you to keep all I have said in confidence. Speak nothing of this to anyone, including Katherine. I believe she finds my company pleasant and perhaps feels some warmth towards me—indeed, I have hope for the future—but it is too soon to speak of more.’

  Alain said nothing, merely nodding his head in agreement. Bryne had been disappointed in love as a young man—he must truly care for Katherine if he was now thinking of taking a wife.

  ‘It is agreed then,’ he said and smiled at his companion. If it was in Bryne’s mind to marry the lady, he would not stand in his way. Yes, he, too, cared for Katherine, but he was not yet certain of his feelings. His need to protect and care for her ran deep, but he did not know if it was what men called love or merely friendship. If she loved Bryne and he her, then Alain must accept it, even if it caused him some pain. ‘Our duty is to the ladies. We shall protect them against Ravenshurst or others of his ilk.’

  Chapter Four

  Katherine did not know what had brought her back to the shrine of the pagan goddess, except that it had seemed such a peaceful place that first evening. That morning the sun was shining and the garden was filled with the scent of blossoms and the sound of birdsong. She stood for a moment looking out over the sea, and then, turning, found her way to the sacred grove.

  A sense of peace fell over her almost at once, and for some reason that she could not fathom she found herself laying a perfect rosebud at the foot of the pile of stones. It was the kind of offering that Marcus Aurelius had said the goddess liked best.

  ‘I do not ask you for anything,’ Katherine whispered. ‘Your faith is not mine, and yet I believe that you were good and true—and I have found peace here. I thank you for that gift and want no other.’

  She stood for a moment in silent contemplation, and was smiling as she began to retrace her steps towards the house. A restless night had caused her to examine her heart and to reach some sort of settlement within herself. In a few days they would begin the voyage to England, and after that she would part from Sir Alain. She must make up her mind to it and forget the foolish thoughts that the sight of him aroused in her.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Celestine’s voice hailed her as she drew near to the house. ‘I thought you must have gone for a walk. I had thought of visiting that shrine we saw the other night, but I have decided against it. It is all nonsense anyway. Love is but a myth and the goddess a relic of pagan times. It would be a waste of time to lay an offering there.’

  ‘Yes, I am sure you are right,’ Katherine replied. It was silly of her, but she hoped that Celestine would not visit the shrine. ‘Besides, you are so beautiful that you do not need the goddess to help you.’

  The older woman smiled complacently. ‘It is true that many men have loved me—but I have found none that I truly love. They are such shallow, selfish creatures. They think only of their own needs and desires—but we are too clever for them and brute strength does not always win the prize.’

  Katherine made no reply. She did not understand Celestine’s meaning. The older woman often seemed shallow and selfish to her, but perhaps she was judging her too harshly.

  ‘Yet you said that you would marry again?’

  ‘For position, for the life that I would lead as the wife of a wealthy man,’ Celestine replied with a toss of her head. ‘I do not care to be poor nor to hide myself on my dower lands. I want a man with influence at court—for such a man I would be willing to marry.’

  Celestine could choose her own husband, thought Katherine, an unworthy pang of envy passing fleetingly through her mind. For Katherine marriage was something she knew to be unlikely.

  ‘Have you seen Sir Alain this morning?’ Celestine asked, wrinkling her smooth brow.

  ‘No. I believe he had some business.’ Katherine held back her sigh. Soon, Sir Alain and the way he made her feel would be merely a memory. For a time she had thought he might truly care for her, but of late she had noticed a certain reserve when he spoke to her. Yet she could not think what she had done that might have offended him.

  ‘I dare say he has many business affairs for he is a man of some influence and wealth…’ Celestine seemed to be thoughtful. ‘More wealthy than I had imagined at the start.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose he must be. I am sorry, I cannot tell you where he is.’

  ‘Well, no matter. We shall no doubt see sufficient of each other on the voyage to England,’ Celestine said with a complacent smile. She looked about her. ‘We must make the most of this sunshine, Katherine, for it will be much colder in England…’

  ‘Yes, I expect it will—and yet I shall be glad to leave Rome.’

  Katherine had been slightly uneasy while they stayed in Rome, for she could not forget what had happened that first night at the villa, when, but for Sir Alain’s timely interruption, her faithful Maria might have been seriously harmed and the treasure stolen. There had been no further attempt to search her room, nor to abduct her since that first time, and Katherine understood that Sir Alain had conspired with their host to make certain she was well protected.

  Nevertheless, she was relieved when they boarded the ship bound for England. Sir Alain had chartered it for his exclusive use, which meant that no one else could travel with them, and since there were no other ships in port that could follow them immediately, she believed she must be safe. Perhaps the threat was over now, for the Lord of Ravenshurst would scarcely follow her to her home in France.

  With the threat ended, at least for the next several weeks, Katherine was able to let down her guard. She had begun to recover a little from her first sharp, tearing grief, though she would always miss the father who had been so dear to her. However, her spirits gradually lifted as the days passed, for she was more fortunate than Celestine, who was forced to spend much of her time in the cabin with Maria to tend her.

  Katherine herself did not suffer from seasickness, even when the weather was choppy, the waves battering fiercely against the ship. She came up on deck as often as she was able, and spent many pleasant moments talking either with Sir Bryne or Sir Alain.

  She was on deck the morning they hailed a French ship, which was making its way to Italy, and saw the exchange of messages by flags hoisted on each vessel.

  ‘What are they saying?’ she asked of Bryne as he came to watch with her at the prow of the ship. ‘I know the flags all stand for something, but I cannot read them.’

  ‘They are merely to assure the captains that there is no need for alarm,’ Bryne told her with a smile. He had
come to like the young woman very much, and to admire her inquiring mind. ‘As you know, King Richard and Philip of France quarrelled on the way to Jerusalem, and some say that the French have conspired with Richard’s captors to hold him hostage these many years. But these ships are merchantmen and have no quarrel with each other, and that is the message they signal to one another.’

  ‘But did Richard not also quarrel with Duke Leopold of Austria?’ Katherine asked. ‘I have heard that a ransom hath been on offer for some time but that the King will not agree to it.’

  ‘We heard this in Rome from Marcus Aurelius,’ Bryne agreed. ‘But I believe some mischief has been afoot to keep Richard a prisoner longer—perhaps at the instigation of the French king, perhaps on the part of Richard’s brother.’

  ‘You speak of Prince John?’

  ‘Yes. Richard made him the guardian of his kingdom when he left for the Holy Land, and there are some who would say that was unwise. I have heard that John hath tried to usurp his brother’s throne. Unfortunately, the people suffer for his harsh rule. And while Richard is a captive of the Holy Roman Emperor, there is none to deny him.’

  ‘Richard is the bravest of men,’ Alain said, coming to join them in time to hear Bryne’s words. ‘But I believe none ever called him the wisest. And the way he treated the hostages at Acre was both terrible and unjust. Yet it is his right to rule England and I would not have him languish in captivity and his brother on the throne in his stead. We must pray for his speedy release.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ Bryne said. ‘Excuse me now, for I would speak with the captain.’

  Katherine smiled as he left them, standing silently beside Sir Alain. He was silent also, gazing out over the white-crested water for a moment before he turned to look at her.

  ‘You seem better in spirits of late, Katherine. The voyage suits you, I think?’

  ‘Yes, I believe it does.’ Katherine looked away from his intent gaze for fear that he would see too clearly into her mind. A part of her recovery was, she was sure, due to the pleasure she drew from his company. ‘I like the feel of the wind in my hair and the spray on my face.’

  Alain nodded his approval. ‘You are a better sailor than the Lady Celestine. She has spent most of her time in her cabin since we came on board.’

  Clearly he was missing the lady’s company. Katherine’s heart sank. She had thought he spent time with her because he liked her, but now she saw it was only because Celestine had not been able to come on deck. Perhaps he sought her out for news of the woman he cared for.

  ‘She is sick much of the time,’ Katherine said. ‘Maria and I do what we can for her, but she is fretful and hard to please. She vows she will never go on board another ship, but indeed she must if she is to return to her home in France.’

  ‘Yes, I fear it cannot be avoided. I would ask the captain to put you ashore in Marseilles, but then you would have a long and difficult journey by land. Despite Lady Celestine’s discomfort, I believe it will be best for you to continue to England with the ship.’

  ‘We should be more vulnerable on land,’ Katherine agreed. ‘If another ship bound for France has reached Rome by now, the Lord Hubert of Ravenshurst may follow sooner than we thought.’

  Alain did not answer immediately, looking at her thoughtfully.

  ‘I have deciphered much of your father’s work,’ he told her at last. ‘Some of it remains elusive; as you warned me, it is writ in a code of your father’s devising and I have not been able to break it.’

  ‘Do you believe my father has discovered a great treasure?’ Katherine’s eyes were dark and intent as she gazed up at him.

  Alain replied in measured words. ‘It is certain that he believed so. He refers to many documents that he studied before setting out on the final stage of his search. If we had those, we might be better able to say for certain that the…treasure is genuine.’

  ‘My father was no fool, sir,’ Katherine said quietly. ‘He would not have searched so long or worked so hard to find something that was not genuine.’

  ‘I do not doubt him, nor after reading his work could I have anything but respect for the late Baron Grunwald,’ Alain assured her. ‘But there are those that will—men who would doubt anything unless it can be proved absolutely.’

  ‘My father was aware of that,’ Katherine told him and sighed. ‘That is why he made so many notes. What I have given you is but a fragment. The rest was lost when his baggage was stolen.’

  ‘Do you believe that it was at Ravenshurst’s instigation that your father was attacked and his possessions stolen?’

  ‘I have wondered,’ Katherine admitted, her brow wrinkling as she thought about it. ‘Especially since I was almost abducted a few days afterwards—and then my things were searched at the villa. I do not think common brigands would have dared so much. And Ravenshurst wanted the cup very badly. Yet I find it difficult to believe that a Christian knight could be so evil.’

  ‘There are many who fought with the crusades for a common cause that I would not care to call friend,’ Alain told her with a frown. ‘I have had little contact with the Lord Hubert of Ravenshurst, but Bryne knows of him. Their fathers quarrelled once over some land that Ravenshurst claimed, and Bryne says the son is a worse rogue than his father.’

  ‘Then I must be on my guard,’ Katherine said, looking anxious. ‘The sooner I am rid of my burden the easier I shall be in my mind. Indeed, I would give it to the Lord Hubert if I could bring my father back to life—but to lose it now would be to despoil his memory. He was proud that he had found such a valuable thing.’ She sighed and met Alain’s eyes, knowing that she could no longer keep her secret. ‘I dare say you have guessed what my father believes he has found?’

  ‘The cup that our Lord used at the Last Supper?’

  ‘Yes, that is what he believed,’ Katherine said and wrinkled her brow. ‘Yet even I have wondered…’

  ‘You doubt it is the Holy Grail?’

  ‘It is such a simple thing,’ Katherine replied. ‘When people speak of it, when they depict it in drawings or manuscripts, ’tis always as a precious thing fashioned of silver or some rich metal. The cup my father found after his studies is a plain thing, of no value in itself.’

  ‘Ah…’ Alain nodded his understanding. ‘Now I begin to understand some of what puzzled me in your father’s writings. A cup of obvious worth might have been discovered long ago, but something simple, of little or no value in itself, could have lain unnoticed for centuries—or been discarded as worthless.’

  ‘It was my father’s belief that the cup was of the kind commonly used by ordinary people of the time. After all, most of Christ’s disciples were poor men that He called to Him from their work. He himself had no wealth, for did He not despise money, so should the cup He used at supper be anything but a plain thing? My father discovered a document that seems to confirm that one of the disciples took the cup away with him, perhaps as something to remember a pleasant evening, and that after the crucifixion he carried it with him until he was able to place it where my father found it.’

  ‘And may I ask where—?’ Alain began, but broke off as he saw Celestine approaching them. He saw at once that she was annoyed, and knew the cause. She did not like to see him in close conversation with Katherine. He smiled at her, holding out his hand to acknowledge her presence on deck, for he knew it was the only way to placate her. Celestine demanded homage for her beauty, and he would give it until he was sure of her mind. ‘Well met, my lady,’ he said, his expression one of genuine concern as he saw how pale she looked. She had, after all, been ill. ‘It was brave of you to come on deck; I believe you have suffered gravely.’

  ‘I thought I should die,’ Celestine said and clutched at the ship’s rail to steady herself. ‘I have never been so ill in my life. I swear it was not thus when we travelled to the Holy Land.’

  ‘The weather has not been kind to us,’ Alain said as she came to stand by his side. He bestowed a smile on her that would capture the
heart of almost any lady. ‘I am sorry you have suffered so much.’

  ‘I still feel very unsteady,’ Celestine said and gave him a wan smile. ‘But I shall stay on deck for as long as possible, sir. I believe the air may do me good…’ She gave a little sigh and appeared to sway slightly on her feet. ‘Would you be so kind as to lend me your arm so that I may walk about a little?’

  ‘Yes, of course. It will be my pleasure.’

  He offered her his arm, and, with a wan look for Katherine, she walked away, leaning on him and sighing.

  Katherine was aware once more of a pang of jealousy. Sir Alain was always kind and courteous to her, and she knew he was genuinely concerned to help her deliver her trust to its final destination, yet he did not look at her the way he looked at Celestine. Yet how should he when she was a plain creature, thin and unwomanly, and Celestine was beautiful?

  He had become more attentive to Celestine since they came on board ship, and she was very much afraid he was in love with her. Katherine’s heart ached for it, as much for his sake as her own. Celestine did not truly love him as he deserved to be loved. She would use him to suit her purpose, whatever that might be.

  ‘Do not look so sad,’ a voice said and she turned to see that Sir Bryne had come up to her unnoticed. ‘She is not worthy of him. For the moment he may be besotted, but it will pass. In time he will realise that she is shallow and he will be free of her spell—for it is a kind of witchery that she casts over men. Marcus spoke of it and I have felt it myself, though her powers cannot bind me. I once loved another woman of her kind and know that her smiles mean nothing.’

  Katherine smiled bravely, hiding her hurt. If Bryne spoke of his friend being besotted, then it must be so. She had not imagined the look in Sir Alain’s eyes nor the power of his smile when he spoke to Celestine.