Knight Errant

by Rue Allyn

  She looked up to see a monk standing before her. An escort of six men stood just inside the gate to the street. What kind of monk caused beggars to flee? For a brief moment her heart stopped, then began to race as fear and worry washed through her. Had Basti sent his deputies to search for the letters? Did Berthild and Gretle stand in harm’s way?

  “You are Sorella Juliana, the healer?”

  She wiped her hands clean on her apron. “Yes, I am Sister Juliana, and I care for the sick, although I make no claim to the knowledge of a healer. How may I help you?”

  “I am Fra Giovanni from Il Castellaccio in Monreale. The archbishop’s clerk of books is ill, and His Excellency begs your assistance to nurse the man.”

  “While I am honored that the archbishop believes I may be of some small help, why does His Excellency not have his own physician attend the secretary?”

  “Sadly, the physician died of the same illness three days past, and the appointed replacement has not arrived from Rome.”

  “Please tell the archbishop I am sorry for his loss. What of other physicians from Palermo?”

  “Most of them are Saracen and the well-being of a Christian can hardly be trusted to an infidel. The situation is most urgent, sorella. I must insist you come with me now.”

  Juliana pressed her lips together. So many poor and sick here in Palermo needed her aid. To neglect them in order to help just one man seemed wrong. Yet to be of aid to the local archbishop would show that he held Beguines in high regard and might help ease tensions with the weavers’ guild. However, to travel alone with a stranger to an unfamiliar place was no small risk. She should go nowhere without an escort she could trust, even if she wanted to help the archbishop’s clerk. Guilt ate at her over the knowledge that she did not truly want to help the man. She wasn’t a selfish person, so she must go, but perhaps not just yet. She would delay until Robert could come with her. The thought gave her pause. When had she come to trust and depend on him?

  She nodded. “I will go, but I must organize things here before I can leave.”

  “Thank you, sorella.” Fra Giovanni bowed. “The archbishop is deeply grateful.”

  “Yes, well, you and your men may wait in the courtyard while I finish here. I will have our cook bring refreshments. I must also make some preparations before we leave. How distant is Castellaccio?” She sent one of the few beggars who lingered nearby in search of Berthild.

  “San Benedetto Castle is but three leagues. However, when he fell ill, the clerk of books was at His Excellency’s country home, and that is a full day’s ride from Palermo.”

  She indicated where the men should wait, then turned, speaking directly to Fra Giovanni. “I must bring my personal belongings and medicines.”

  “You need pack nothing. The house is well supplied. All will be provided.”

  “The archbishop requested my help, and I will give it in the best way I know how. For that I insist on bringing a few of my belongings and supplies. Else you should find another to care for the clerk of books.”

  Fra Giovanni blinked in surprise. “No, no, sorella, His Excellency asked for you. Thus no other will do. Since you insist, I will await you here with the archbishop’s guards.”

  The monk’s words were oddly rushed, as if the man panicked. Was the archbishop so harsh a taskmaster?

  Harsh or not, Juliana had promised to help. “Thank you, Fra Giovanni. I will hurry.” Before she had gone five steps, Berthild came bustling to her side. “What are you doing to go alone with this monk?”

  Juliana explained the situation. “Will you see to their comfort, while I prepare for the journey?”

  Berthild eyed the monk and his six guards. “Are you certain traveling with him is wise?”

  “I am far from certain, which is why I insisted on packing my things first. I hope to delay long enough for Robert to return from his vigil.”

  Berthild smiled. “Excellent. Sir Robert will send the monk on his way.”

  Juliana looked over at the waiting group. “No, I promised to go. A man is seriously ill, and deserves what little help I can offer. Besides, if we are seen as friendly with the archbishop, perhaps the weavers will be more inclined to negotiate with us.”

  “But a monk? What if he is one of Basti’s deputies?”

  “I doubt that. But if Robert comes with me, he will stand as witness to my safety, and they can do me no harm.”

  “Robert is only one man.”

  “True, but I dare not take our guards. ’Twould offend the archbishop and leave you and Gretle vulnerable. The weavers here are not our friends yet.” She walked toward the house mentally preparing a list of what she would need and hoping for Robert’s speedy return.

  “I agree.” Berthild paced beside her. “However, our negotiations with the guild are going well. I have hopes that all parties will be satisfied very soon. Then peace can reign, and we can get on with our real work.”

  “That’s wonderful news. Helping the archbishop can only further our cause. By the time the rest of our sisters from Ghent arrive, we should have all prepared. Now, see to the refreshments for Fra Giovanni and his men. Try to distract them so they don’t realize how much time I am taking to pack.”

  “I will.” Berthild strode back to the courtyard.

  Juliana ambled to her room and with no particular hurry packed her personal supply of medicines. She lifted the cloak that had been tossed with apparent carelessness over her writing table. She had been called away abruptly this morning to help with the beggar’s maimed feet, and the cloak had been the only quickly available means to hide the items on the table. Setting the garment aside, she gathered the vellum sheets on the desk, the letters Angelina had given to her care and several copies made over the past weeks. Juliana moved to the mosaic, bent to remove the bricks, and put the vellum into the iron chest. Leaving all in the secret niche, she replaced the bricks, confident that the letters would be secure until she returned. Later she would seal the copies in wax and sew them into hidden pockets within her cloak. If Robert managed to force her to return to England, those copies would go with her, and she would turn the originals over to the care of another Beguine.

  Worried that Fra Giovanni would begin to lose patience, she hurried to gather the rest of her things and tried to conjure other plausible reasons to delay. Robert could not return soon enough.

  • • •

  Hot and tired from his vigil and the walk from the shrine, Robert entered the beguinage courtyard. He wasn’t greeted with an army of beggars as he expected, but with the sight of six men at arms surrounding a monk who handed Juliana onto the saddle of an elegant, white mare. With worried looks, Berthild and Gretle stood off to one side.

  When Juliana settled, the monk headed for his own mount.

  Robert felt a knot grow in his stomach. If she planned to escape her return to England by embarking on some new journey, she would find her plans changed. In no mood for his charge’s tricks or her smiling obstinacy, Robert stalked through the mounted men and grabbed hold of her mount’s bridle. “Lady Juliana, what are you about?”

  “Fra Giovanni, this Sir Robert Clarwyn, Baron Ravensmere, envoy from my cousin the king of England.” She gestured between him and the monk. “I have agreed to accompany Fra Giovanni, the archbishop of Palermo’s emissary, to His Excellency’s country home to lend what aid I may to a clerk who has fallen ill. I request that you accompany me.”

  She smiled at him as if she were truly glad to see him. The knot in his stomach tightened. Robert snorted. “And if there is no sick clerk?”

  “Should that happen, I shall thank heaven for his recovery, then you and I will return here.”

  Something was not right. Without prompting, she was promising to return to the beguinage. Also, when she had had such trouble with men of the church, why did she not doubt this archbishop’s emissary? The monk could be one of Basti’s spies or some other kidnapper. Robert’s delusions about his own father had taught him how appearances could decei
ve.

  “I am glad you wish my escort,” he said. “Because I insist on accompanying you, so that you will have an escort on your return journey.” He spoke to Juliana but looked at Fra Giovanni, daring the man to object.

  The monk smiled genially. “Of a certainty, you must come with us, Baron Ravensmere.”

  Henry was called to ready Robert’s destrier. Soon he was in the saddle, and the party rode out of the beguinage. Suspecting the worst and hoping he was wrong, Robert made plans for every situation he could imagine.

  They rode west from Palermo toward Mount Caputo and then south through a narrow valley bordered by rocky wooded hills that rose on either side. Toward midday they left the valley for the hillsides. The terrain was steep and the riding difficult, but by late evening they had reached the dale where the archbishop had his country home. They dismounted near the stables.

  “Come, Sorella Juliana, Sir Robert, we will eat. Then you may tend the clerk.”

  Robert took careful note of the position of buildings and the numbers and placement of guards before following Fra Giovanni into the house.

  “I could not possibly eat until I assure myself of the clerk’s condition,” Juliana protested.

  “As you wish,” the monk agreed smoothly.

  A servant was called to guide her to the clerk’s room, but the man advised Fra Giovanni that for the first time in days, the clerk was sleeping peacefully.

  When the monk began to insist, Juliana intervened.

  “Let the man sleep. Rest is a most effective treatment for all ills.”

  “Then allow me to provide food.”

  “Verily, I thank you, for I am famished.”

  The monk grinned. “This way.”

  The bastard is certainly pleased with himself. Fra Giovanni wanted Juliana to sup and when she refused, the monk gained his desires by appearing to give her what she thought she wanted. Life with Juliana would be much easier if I could be as deceptive as that monk. Possibly all was as the monk and his servants claimed, but Robert refused to let his guard down.

  They enjoyed a light repast before being escorted to their separate chambers for the night.

  Robert had objected to Juliana being cloistered in the women’s quarters. Fra Giovanni had refused to make other arrangements until she gently suggested that she should be as near as possible to the sick man. It seemed that concern for the archbishop’s clerk overrode any nefarious plans the monk may have had for Juliana, and he agreed to arrange a cot for her in a small antechamber.

  The monk took Robert farther down the hallway to another chamber. They exchanged courtesies until the bells rang to signal prayers at Compline, and Fra Giovanni excused himself.

  Robert shut his door almost all the way. He stood listening beside the scarcely noticeable space. He planned to be in this room no longer than it took for the household to fall asleep. He would guard Juliana’s safety at all costs. To do otherwise would be to confirm that he was like his father—completely lacking in honor where women were concerned and driven by base need.

  He waited until he heard no sounds within the house, then eased open the door. He slipped into the hallway and, keeping to the shadows, made his way silently to where he’d left Juliana. As he neared, he saw the door ajar.

  A small cry of protest came from within.

  Robert leapt down the hallway and burst through the door just as a heavy thud sounded.

  Kneeling on the floor, Juliana looked up from where Fra Giovanni had fallen. She gripped a sliver candleholder. “Robert.” She uttered the cry at a whisper, but it was a cry nonetheless. In moments, he held her tightly.

  “Did he hurt you?” he growled.

  “Nay, I did not give him time to touch me.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “I do not think so.”

  “What of the clerk?”

  “He is not here. Fra Giovanni told me so before he announced that though I was an evil creature, he would bless me with the seed from his body. That’s when I hit him.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Worse than that, he is Basti’s tool and intended to leave with me for Rome while you slept.”

  “I am sorry.”

  She swallowed to clear her throat. “Thank you, but I am not. He got no more than he deserved. We must leave and quickly.”

  Robert released his hold on her. “First let me check our host. ’Twould be difficult if he rouses too soon.”

  While he bent over the monk, Juliana gathered her belongings and went to stand by the door.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I’ve tied and gagged him with cloth torn from the bed hangings.”

  “Excellent. There is a door to the yard over here.”

  Under cloudy skies, they made their way in silence to the stables and were lucky enough to encounter no one. Juliana kept watch while Robert saddled the horses and muffled their hooves with rags. He handed her the mare’s reins, then pointed toward an exit at the back of the stables.

  “But the gate is over there,” she whispered.

  “Aye, and ’twill be watched. We must find a postern and leave that way,” he whispered back.

  “And if that, too, is watched?”

  “’Tis likely to have only one guard, if that, and I can deal silently with one man.”

  Taking care to be quiet and watch for guards, they made their way along the wall until they found the unguarded postern. The gate opened with very little noise. Leading the horses, they picked their way carefully over the rocky ground that separated the country home from the hills a league distant.

  They had covered half the distance when a shout went up from the house.

  “Our departure is discovered. We must hurry.” Robert grasped Juliana about the waist and lifted her into her saddle, then bent to remove the cloth from the horses’ hooves and tossed the rags behind a nearby bush.

  “At least we still have the cover of the clouds. They do not yet know where we are.”

  “But not for long.” Robert leapt to his saddle and pointed toward the sky.

  Juliana followed his gesture to see the moon edging out from behind its cloudy curtain.

  “Oh no.”

  “The moment that moonlight strikes your white horse we will be as visible as if we had a beacon to light the way.”

  Juliana wasted no time in reply but set her mare to a ground-eating lope.

  Robert sent his destrier thundering after her, praying they would reach the hills in time to lose their pursuers. He held to the pace of her smaller mount, using himself and his larger horse to shelter Juliana. So swift a ride over unfamiliar terrain in the dark held as many dangers as a hoard of pursuers. One misstep could break a neck, but given the consequences of being caught, a broken neck was worth the risk.

  They raced onward. Still, the sounds of pursuit grew closer with each stride. He could see the mare was tiring. Arrows flew past his head. As Juliana’s steed continued to fail, he shifted the reins to one hand and with the other plucked her from her saddle to place her facing him on the broad pommel of his saddle.

  “Hold on,” he yelled.

  He waited only to feel her arms tighten around his waist, then urged the destrier to even greater speed. Fury washed through him. He wanted to kill the men who placed Juliana in such danger. But first he had to get her to safety.

  Mother of God, help us find cover quickly. He headed away from the trail to Palermo, hoping to create false confidence in their pursuers. He knew quite well where he was, but they would believe him to be lost. To make the deception work, he must first elude them.

  The howls from the pack of men sounded entirely too close. Robert spied a dip in the hillside and rode hard for it. He splashed over a small stream and turned to follow a rocky cleft that time had carved in the hill. Sharp cliffs rose on both sides, blocking the moonlight.

  The pursuers’ shouts echoed off the walls of the passage. He dodged between a pair of rocks, away from the stream and out of sight of
the pack. He had to find shelter soon. His gelding could not keep this pace for much longer.

  “On your left. I think I see a space.” Juliana’s words flew at him. “It’s behind us now.”

  Robert hauled on the reins, guiding the horse at her direction. A bush blocked the way. He shifted his weight and tightened his thighs until the destrier leapt and cleared the bush. They hit the ground with a jarring thud and nearly ran headlong into the cliff face. He reined in hard, and the gelding turned, missing the wall by a hair. The awkward movement threw Robert off balance, and he crashed against the stone. Juliana grunted at the impact.

  “Left again.”

  Robert complied, spying the narrow gorge in that moment. He ordered the steed into the space. Instantly, the sounds of pursuit became muffled. With moonlight blocked, the gorge was darker than pitch. The horse had to step with slow care.

  Dotted with boulders and brush, eventually the way broadened. The moon cast huge shadows and distorted perception. Sounds of pursuit had ceased some time ago. But rage still flooded Robert. Half of him wished the pack would catch them so he could gut each and every one of the men. The saner half knew he would be lucky to get Juliana back to the beguinage in one piece. Robert moved from rock to bush to rock, winding and shifting his path in an attempt to confuse any followers. Sometime later, he stumbled upon a shallow cave.

  Keeping to the shadows, he reined to a halt and observed the lay of the land. The cliff face would guard their backs. Approach from the front was restricted by the slim crevasse through which they had just traveled. The place was defensible against a small number. If a large group attacked, he would just have to slit Juliana’s throat to save her a more painful fate and then kill as many of the attackers as possible before he died, too. His breath stopped for a moment at the thought of Juliana dead. The rage that sustained him since her capture faltered in the face of fear that she might die by his hand.

  He could not let her die, and if that meant he never took revenge on those who sought to capture her, so be it. Her safety came first. This place was as safe as any other the night would provide.

  The horse huffed, drawing in great gulps of air. The destrier needed rest and water. Robert ached in every bone. Juliana must feel ten times his pain. She could scarce be used to such hard riding. She was strangely silent, he thought, as he shifted to help her to the ground.