A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “What are you all waiting here for?” Lord Alan screamed. “Go! Go and find her! Bring her back.”

  The rest of the guards near the doorway scattered out the door, leaving only William in the room with the cowering hounds and Lord Alan. William came out of the shadows as Lord Alan turned toward the hearth with a heavy sigh. “Lord Alan?”

  He turned, an angry scowl on his gray brow. When he laid eyes on William, his composure turned confused for a moment as he fought for recognition. It wasn’t until William was two steps away from him that identification dawned in his aged eyes. “Sir William,” he said with a sigh. He shook his head. “It’s good to see you, boy.” He extended his hand and clasped his arm in warrior fashion.

  “You requested my presence,” William said.

  “Yes. Yes.” Lord Alan released his arm. He looked at the floor, composing his thoughts. “This is not how I anticipated speaking with you.” He sat heavily in one of the chairs near the hearth. He was silent for a long moment.

  William waited patiently, standing beside him. He wasn’t certain what was happening, but obviously Lord Alan was very busy with something of import.

  “Long ago, your father and I betrothed you and my daughter,” Lord Alan said softly.

  William had heard as much from his own father, but that had been long ago. He was ready to let Lord Alan out of the obligation. That was why he had come. No man would ever want his daughter married to him.

  “I intend to adhere to your father’s wishes.”

  Shock raced through William. He shook his head in confusion and denial. “You must have heard...”

  Lord Alan waved his hand as if brushing away a gnat. “It makes no difference. You are still Baron of Bradninch and Lord of the Manors of Toddington, Gloucestershire, and of Moretonhampstead. Your father and I spoke for long hours about combining our lands. It was his dying wish.”

  William had not been there when his father passed, but he knew it had been a dream of his to grow his lands. “Lord Alan. Much has transpired since these vows were made. I certainly will not hold you or your daughter to them.”

  Lord Alan sighed softly. A soft cough issued from his throat, but he swallowed it down. “I am old.” The coughing persisted until it grew to a hacking, overwhelming roar that all but doubled Lord Alan over. He spit on the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  As Lord Alan righted himself, William noticed a thin golden chain around his neck with a pendant dangling from it. On the pendant was an engraving of a black cat.

  Lord Alan tucked the pendant into his tunic. “I don’t have much time left in this world. I would see my daughter well cared for.”

  “There must be other men.”

  Lord Alan straightened. “I will honor all my dues, as you should,” he said. His chin rose and his eyes hardened. It looked as though he were insulted. “Your father was a dear friend. I promised my daughter to you and you shall have her.”

  William didn’t know what to say. It was true, everything he said. Yet, William also knew no man in their right mind would bind their daughter to him. Something else was going on here. “Very well. If it is your wish. I will wed the Lady Grace.” He looked around expecting her to be standing near the kitchen door or in the shadows of the hearth. “Where is she?”

  Lord Alan’s hands curled into fists above the arm rests. “Whisked away. Kidnapped, I’m afraid.” He struggled to his feet and lay a heavy hand on William’s shoulder. “Find her. Bring her back to me.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Grace held onto Sir Curtis Mortain from behind as his horse thundered down the road. Trees rushed by; the wind blew her hair back from her face and her eyes teared. The speed at which they rode was reckless and made her uneasy, but it distracted her from thinking about what she was doing. She pressed her face into Curtis’s back, hiding from the wind. Her father would be furious she had fled. She scowled. She didn’t care about what her father would think or do. How could he betroth her to Sir William? How could he think she would marry Sir William? He was a monster! She heard of what he had done. Entering a sacred cathedral and slaying one of God’s servants. He was evil. How could her father want her to marry such a monster? Sir William was excommunicated, barred from the Church! She shook herself. She didn’t want to think about it, about him, about her father. She would have done anything to escape the marriage. She was so glad for Sir Curtis. Surely he was the knight she had prayed for.

  They rode through the darkness, the moon high overhead casting shadows onto the road before them. She wasn’t afraid even though it was dark and these roads were said to be inhabited by bandits and cutthroats. She knew Curtis would protect her. As Curtis slowed the horse, she sat up and looked around. The road was empty. The sparse trees dotting the roadside gave no clue of danger.

  “Fear not,” Curtis said. “I’m giving my horse a rest.”

  She nodded. The slower pace gave her time to think. A strange sadness came over her. She was leaving the only home she had known. She was sad that it had come to this, where the only escape for her was leaving her home. Her mother would have been disappointed in her choice. But she couldn’t live with her father. Not any longer. Not after the hatred she saw when she looked into his eyes. And she didn’t know why. She didn’t know what she had done. She had tried everything to please him, even embroidering a magnificent crest on his tunic. She found all her hard work burning in the hearth in his solar. She had brought him breakfast. He had left it untouched. She had discovered the only way to make him happy was to avoid him, to stay out of his way.

  Her thoughts shifted to the last incident that forced her departure. Betrothing her to Sir William. Why would her father do that to her? Why would he insist she marry such a man? There were other men she could marry, like Sir Curtis. Why Sir William? Her father had spoken of honor and responsibility and honoring one’s vows. But there was another reason. There had to be. Could he hate her so much? She never knew what she did, but after her mother died it was different between them. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her. He would scowl at her and his lips would twist in distaste whenever he saw her.

  Still, she had been willing to stay, even though his anger and rejection hurt. She knew she had responsibilities. But this betrothal... It was too much. She would have no future. Her family would be cursed and she could not do that to children. To her children.

  And then Curtis had offered to take her away. How could she say no? She would have done anything to escape the marriage. Curtis had told her such comforting stories about how they would live in his childhood cottage… She really hadn’t cared. She just knew she had to leave. And he was kind to her. He was her friend.

  “There,” Sir Curtis said, jarring her from her thoughts. He pointed to a building in the distance. It was shadowed with glowing and dancing firelight in the windows.

  “What is it?” Grace wondered.

  “We will rest there.”

  “Do you think that wise?” she asked. Her father would have men searching every inn along the road.

  “Are you saying you know better than me?” he asked with a small, condescending chuckle.

  “I’m suggesting we look for something else. The guards will be searching buildings along the road.”

  “We will stop for food and provisions. We won’t be long.”

  She grunted acceptingly, but it seemed like a bad idea. They should be hiding in the forest or keep moving.

  “Did you bring coin?”

  She blinked and sat back away from him. “A few coins. Like we discussed.” It was all she could manage to take. She had never had need for coin, but she had a few.

  He brought the horse into a cantor and steered it toward the building.

  Loud, robust singing came from inside. Apprehension gripped Grace. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting her father’s men to be galloping down the road to cut them off.

  Curtis slid from the horse and reached up for her. She put her hands on his sh
oulders, but her gaze was on the wooden building. In the moonlight, the teetering inn looked barely able to stand. It seemed to sway in the small breeze. There was a stable in the back of the inn that was in no better shape. “Curtis, must we stop here? It doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “Just for a moment. Do not be afraid,“ he proclaimed, thrusting out his chest. ”I shall protect you.“

  Grace couldn’t help but smile. He had posed in that exact same position when they were young and he pretended to fight off some invisible monster.

  She nodded. Unfortunately, her father’s men were not invisible monsters.

  Curtis led the way into the stable. Musky and smelling of dust and hay, the stable was dark and unwelcoming. Grace stepped to the side so Curtis could stable his horse in one of the wooden stalls. When he returned to her, she took a step out of the stable, grateful for the fresh air.

  “It will be best if you remain here with the horse. Just so no one sees you.”

  Startled, Grace whirled on him. “What about you?”

  “I shall get our food and be out straight away.” He stepped past her. “No one knows me. They do not know you fled with me. It will be safer if I enter alone.”

  Grace glanced at the inn over his shoulder. She could see the light of a fire flickering through the shutters. She didn’t want to stay in the stable, alone, and unprotected. She didn’t want him to leave her.

  “Don’t worry,“ he said softly. ”I would never let anything happen to you.” He sauntered out of the stable.

  The horse whinnied behind her as she watched Curtis enter the inn.

  “Check the inn!” a voice called from outside the stable.

  The voice woke Grace and she sat up straight in her position in the corner of the stall. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

  She stood and hurried to the door of the stable. She craned her neck to peek out. A garrison of soldiers sat atop horses in a half-moon position around the inn. She quickly backed into the stable. Her father’s men! The open door of the inn cast a glow of firelight on the blue crossed pattern overlain with a black knight crest on their tunics. It was her family crest. What was she to do? Where was Curtis? He had been in the inn for a long time. She must have dozed off, she realized. Dread filled her and she looked around the stable. Curtis’s horse and one other were in the stalls, but there was no sign of Curtis. He hadn’t come back. She would have to hide. She refused to go back to her father, to the castle. Two empty stalls completed the stable. She moved to the last stall. The stall was filled with hay.

  “Look in the stable!”

  Apprehension filled Grace, twisting her stomach. There was no other choice. She raced toward the corner of the stall and dug into the hay quickly. She dove into the hole she made and pulled hay down over her head and around her body so it covered her. She hoped she was covered well enough to block her body from the view of the men. She tucked her feet in, pulled her knees against her chest and tucked her skirt around her feet. She reached out and pulled more hay around her and leaned back, hoping to stay invisible to their probing gazes. They couldn’t find her! Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breath came in short gasps. She couldn’t see because of the hay and she closed her eyes to pray.

  CHAPTER 5

  Grace heard footsteps crunching on the brittle hay. They stopped for a moment and then started again, coming toward her. She held her breath and didn’t move. Not an inch. She clenched her hands in the velvet fabric of her skirt and squeezed her eyes closed tightly. She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t. Never again.

  A long moment passed and she thought at any moment she would be seized and hauled from her hiding place. She waited. Her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears. Still, she waited. But no one laid hands on her and eventually the sounds of the steps moved out of the stable, fading into the distance. She let a soft sigh issue from her lips. She was still too afraid to leave her hiding spot. She was still too fearful she would be discovered. So she remained hidden. Alone. Where was Curtis?

  Her hand itched as the hay scratched it, but she dared not move.

  More footsteps broke the silence.

  They’ve come back! They knew she was hiding in the stable and they returned for her! Grace held her breath. Tears entered her eyes.

  The footsteps seemed hurried as they rushed into the stable. They moved back and forth along the aisle before the stalls. “Grace?”

  She thought she recognized the voice, but then she realized it might be wishful thinking, so she remained hidden beneath the hay.

  “Grace!”

  She did recognize the voice! She shoved the hay from her head. “Curtis!” she gasped.

  He rushed back to the stall she was in and stood in the opening as she pushed the hay away from her body. She stood up and dusted the hay from her dress. “Are they gone?”

  A crooked smile settled on his lips. “You look like a wench after a tumble.”

  She stepped out of the stall, gently pushing him back. “Are they gone?” She rushed to the doorway and peered out.

  “They’ve gone.”

  Grace whirled on him, angry and fearful. “Where were you? We should have left hours ago!”

  “I’m sorry. You were right. We should not have stopped here,” Curtis agreed. He held up a small bag. “But I got bread for us.”

  What had taken him so long? All that time for a bag of bread? She eyed it doubtfully, but nodded. “We should go before they come back.”

  Curtis pulled his horse from the stall and helped her to mount. He swung up behind her, his arms going around her as he grabbed the reins.

  Grace dusted more hay from her hair as they rode out of the stable. She noticed a dark-haired woman standing in the doorway of the inn, swaying her hips back and forth, smiling at Curtis as they passed. When Grace twisted around in the saddle to look at Curtis, she saw he wore the same smile the woman had. He nodded to the woman before spurring the horse down the road.

  They stopped at the side of a small stream to rest. The sun was directly overhead, beating down through the foliage of the forest trees to dapple the leaf-covered ground.

  Grace moved to the stream and bent, rinsing off her face with the cool, fresh water. They had been traveling all morning and she was hot, sore, and hungry. She sat back on her bottom. She should have felt relief and joy, but she only felt sad and lonely. She cast a glance over her shoulder.

  Curtis brushed his dark hair from his eyes. He was tall and strong, a fine knight. But he had no idea how to care for her or for himself. He was too used to be sheltered inside a castle, too impulsive and self-serving. She put her hands against her forehead. What was she doing? This suddenly seemed like a very bad idea. It was too late to go back. Besides, she never would. She would run and live the life of a commoner before marrying Sir William. Yes, she was doing the right thing. The only thing she could do. Grace stood as Curtis tied the brown horse to a nearby branch. He reached into one of the bags tied to the saddle. He pulled out a small loaf of bread and took a large bite.

  Grace walked over to him. “Might I have some bread?”

  He opened the bag and looked inside. Then he glanced at the small piece of bread remaining in his hand. He held it out to her.

  She stood for a moment, shocked. “Is that all that is left?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “You ate the rest of it?” she asked, taking the bread from his hand.

  “I need to keep my strength to defend you!” he protested.

  Irritation grated on her. He had eaten the bread they needed to hold them over until the next town! And she had eaten none of it. Good Lord! How selfish Curtis was! He was like a child, a boy who never thought of others. She took the offered bread and broke it in half. She gave him some. He was right. He needed his strength. She stared down at the bread in her hand. She should have been starving. Perhaps it was nervousness, perhaps it was the uncertainty of the future, but she wasn’t hungry.

  He handed her a f
lask.

  She took a sip of the warm ale and handed it back to him.

  “You look pale. Are you feeling all right?” Curtis asked.

  Grace looked at him in disbelief. “I’m worried. I’m frightened. I’m tired.”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  “Never!” she hissed. She shook her head and waved away her worry. “It’s too late. I can’t go back. And I don’t want to.” She looked at him, suspiciously. “Do you?”

  “I am yours to serve,” he said with a slight bow.

  “Stop it,” she admonished. “Don’t make fun of me. I want to know if you are having doubts. I need to know if you want to return to Willoughby Castle.”

  He took her hands into his and looked sincerely into her eyes. “I won’t leave you, Grace. You don’t have to worry. I will only return if you want to return.”

  Grace sighed softly. “Thank you.”

  Curtis nodded and tugged her toward a tree. “Sit here. Rest.” He sat on the ground and leaned back against a tree. “Come rest your head on my shoulder. I will tell you of our future.”

  Yes, a distraction. It was exactly what Grace needed. She sat beside him, tucking her skirt about her thighs and ankles. He opened his arms and she leaned her head against his chest.

  “We shall live in the woods far from Willoughby Castle. In the fall, the leaves shall turn to a brilliant red and gold.“ He picked up a strand of her hair. ”Much the color of your locks.“

  Grace closed her eyes, imagining the picture his words painted. Beautiful. Peaceful. Serene. She needed that kind of calm in her life. She desperately wanted to block everything else out.