A Knight's Duty (The Knights of Honor Trilogy, Book 2)

by Dana D'Angelo

  “A messenger?” her father repeated, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving the light-haired knight. “Nay, Sir Derrik is more than just a messenger. He is a diplomat. After the Iron Hawk and his commander, he is also one of the king’s most trusted men.”

  Her gaze went briefly to Derrik and then back to her father. “You are speaking about Sir Derrik?” Amelie asked incredulously. “The same knight that is in this cave with us?”

  “Aye,” her father nodded, looking a little surprised at her disbelief. “With both the Hawk and his commander retired from the king’s service, Sir Derrik joined the royal guards, and has proven his worth to the king many times over. Even I, in Stanbury, have heard of his extraordinary feats.”

  Amelie glanced over at Derrik again, but he only shrugged his shoulders. She frowned slightly at him. Why had he never mentioned his close ties to the king? If he was a well trusted knight, then he would have great influence over the sovereign leader.

  “I’m flattered that you remember my history, my lord,” Derrik said with a polite smile. “However you’re likely aware that I’m here to seek the truth.”

  Her father sighed. It was a sound heavy with defeat, a sound that Amelie had never, ever heard coming from her father’s lips.

  Lord Stanbury closed his eyes as if they were weighed down by iron weights. When he opened them again, he looked over at Derrik. Pushing himself off the ground, he struggled until he was at last in a seated position.

  “Do not strain yourself, my lord,” Mistress May broke in. “You must remember that your injury has not fully healed.”

  But no one paid any heed to the Healer.

  “So what is the truth, Father?” Amelie asked in a hushed tone, now suddenly afraid to hear the answer since his expression appeared so solemn.

  “Ah, the truth. That is what everyone is after, is it not?” No one answered his question, and he let out a bitter laugh. “I was in London to look over a shipment of new wines from France when a man, whom I’ve never seen before, approached me. He spoke to me with a strange familiarity. At first I was confused as to why he called me by my brother’s name. And before I could reveal my true identity to him, the man launched into the details about a complex plot against the king. ‘Twas then that I realized the seriousness of the information that fell into my hands.”

  “You’re known to resemble the Lord High Steward,” Derrik said.

  “I curse the resemblance!” Lord Stanbury reached up and dug his fingers into his hair, pulling at it. “Roldan and I share very similar features; some people go so far as to claim that we are twins. In our youth, we were constantly mistaken for each other. I think this had irritated Roldan more than me,” he smiled ruefully at himself and let his hands fall to his lap. “But now the tables are turned.”

  “’Twas then you went to Wykeham to confront Uncle Roldan about the plot,” Amelie said.

  Her father nodded. “I didn’t have an opportunity to challenge my brother after that chance meeting with the man in London. However when I got home, I sent Roldan a message to meet me at the Fox Trail Inn, hinting that I knew about his insidious scheme against the king.” He took in a shaky breath as though recalling the events caused him much pain and sorrow. “When I met Roldan that day, I tried to persuade him to mend his ways, to forget about the conspiracy, and be happy with the power and prestige that he already had.” He shook his head. “But he laughed in my face, declaring that Lord Richard was the rightful ruler of England. He asked me to join forces with the king’s rebel brother. But when I refused, Roldan turned on me, saying that I would regret my decision.” He bent his head and stared unseeing at his hands on his lap. “Never did I think my own brother would try to murder me. Nor did I believe that he would ever think to betray his own country.”

  “I suspected that the Lord High Steward was involved when the inn keeper spoke of two brothers. And aside from some details, you have confirmed several of my other suspicions.”

  Amelie threw a startled look at Derrik. “Then that means you can help my father clear his name.” She clasped her hands together. “Since you have such high esteem with King Edward, he will listen to you, and my father will no longer need to act as a fugitive.”

  Her father was innocent! She looked heavenward, and gave a quick thanks to God. All those hours of prayer at the chapel had influenced the outcome, and finally the weight of worry and fear lifted from her shoulders. She was right all along. Her father could now go to the king, and explain what had happened. From what she understood, King Edward was a reasonable man. He would listen to what her father had to say. Then Roldan would be arrested. Justice would be served, and all would be well in the world.

  She grinned at Derrik and fought back an urge to dance a little jig. “I knew I could trust you.”

  Chapter 25

  Still humming the minstrel’s tune that refused to leave her brain, Clarisse balanced a tray on one hand while she pushed at the bedchamber door. She had left two servants in charge of Lady Edeline while she made her way to the kitchen. Yet for a trip that she thought would only take a few minutes, with her brief sojourn into the pantry and then the subsequent trip to the kitchen, a good hour had passed.

  It generally took a few minutes for the cook to prepare the sweetmeats, but he was caught up with the dinner preparations and managing his wayward kitchen staff. When Clarisse arrived at the kitchen, his face was red with fury. But Clarisse had learned years ago that the best way to handle people like the cook was to offer honeyed words and praise. So in this way, she persuaded the cook to prepare the sweetmeats, and have the treat brought to Lady Edeline after the dinner preparations were well under way. Once she finished speaking to the cook, he was much more pleasant, and the kitchen help looked to her with gratitude. The other good thing that came out of it was that she was able to return to Lady Edeline’s suite with freshly baked bread and three different kinds of tasty cold meats. Hopefully the small repast was enough to tempt her mistress while she waited for her honey spiced treat.

  Clarisse paused at the doorway as she heard awful grunting sounds, sounds that could only be likened to desperate animals fighting over scraps of food. Turning down her lips, she knitted her brows in confusion. Who would dare to bring an animal in Lady Edeline’s bedchamber without Clarisse’s permission?

  “You’re back, my lady,” the servant said as she jerked her head up the moment the door opened.

  But Clarisse barely noticed the servant. Her eyes zeroed in on the small figure on the bed just as the blood drained from her face. Snorting and grunting, Lady Edeline thrashed about on her mattress. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she seemed to wrestle not with animals, but with some inner demons.

  The silver tray in Clarisse’s hand dropped, the cold meats and chunk of bread crashed to the ground, scattering all over the stone floor. She stood in one place, unable to move. But the sound of metal bouncing off the stone floor snapped her back to reality, and reminded her of her responsibilities.

  “Lady Edeline!” she cried in alarm, rushing over to the bedside. Getting no response from her mistress, she turned to the servant. “My lady was fine when I left her an hour ago.” She scanned the room. “What happened to the other servant? I left the two of you to care for her,” she continued, the pitch of her voice rising with dismay.

  “I —I told Ann to send for a physician right away and to search for you and Margery,” she stammered. She then took in a shaky breath. “We didn’t know what to do. She kept convulsing — on and off that I thought she was possessed by the devil.” She said the last word with frightened emphasis and raised her hands to cross herself. “I have never in my life seen my lady shake uncontrollably like this.”

  Clarisse could hear her heart beating loudly, and even though she stared directly at the servant’s face, she couldn’t fully comprehend what the woman had said. She hadn’t been gone that long. How could things have changed so fast and in such a short time?

  Finally the heavy thr
ashing calmed, although Lady Edeline’s body twitched slightly every other second. The skin on her face was sallow and her cheekbones were pronounced. It seemed death stood by her bedside, ready to take her away. She couldn’t let Lady Edeline die. Of all things, she didn’t want to deliver that kind of devastating news to her cousin. To her immense relief, the twitching fully subsided, and Lady Edeline’s eyes fluttered open.

  “What happened?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Her eyes focused on Clarisse and then the servant. She licked her dry lips. “I feel so tired.”

  Reaching over, Clarisse touched her mistress’ forehead. She almost snatched her hand away when she felt the burning heat that emanated from her skin. “’Twas nothing, my lady,” she lied. “You just have a little fever. Close your eyes and rest.”

  Her lady aunt obediently complied, only too glad to give in to her fatigue.

  “Have you given her the medicinal potion?” Clarisse asked the servant, as she leaned over and tugged the woolen blanket off her mistress.

  The servant nodded and raised the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead. “I mixed the potion in the wine as you instructed.” She looked at Clarisse, her brows lifted high, her eyes unblinking. “But almost as soon as she finished the drink, she started convulsing.”

  Pulling back from the bed, she let out a long breath, the tension slowly releasing from her body. Lady Edeline was all right at the moment, and her journey into death’s realm wasn’t imminent.

  “Bring some cloth and that basin over there,” she ordered.

  The servant hurriedly brought over the items from the table.

  Taking the cloth, Clarisse dipped it into the water and wrung it out. With utmost care, she wiped the thin sheen of sweat from her mistress’ forehead. Lady Edeline seemed as if she was in a deep sleep and for that, Clarisse was grateful.

  Lady Edeline was a beautiful woman, more beautiful than Lady Chantal, Clarisse’s mother, although the sisters were only one year apart. Because her lady aunt had once attended the queen at the royal courts, Clarisse was sent to foster at Stanbury Castle when she was eight years old. It was fortunate for her that her aunt chose to keep Amelie at the castle rather than foster her off to some other household. And with the help of her cousin, Clarisse quickly adjusted to her new life, and became a part of the family. Now, if anything happened to her aunt, she would never forgive herself.

  Turning, she set the cloth in the bowl that the servant held. The servant stared at Lady Edeline, her face pinched with concern, worry and guilt.

  “Be at ease,” Clarisse said, reaching over and patting the servant’s hand. She gave the older woman a faltering smile. “I know ‘twas not your fault.”

  The older woman wrung her hands together, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. “I tried my best —”

  “I understand,” she nodded. “There is no need to explain further.”

  Lady Edeline took in a deep breath, and then her breathing became slow and even. Moments later, her eyes moved rapidly underneath her lids, as if she was just starting to dream. She reached over and brushed a hand over Lady Edeline’s flushed face, and frowned when a disturbing thought came to mind.

  “You said that my lady began convulsing after you gave her the potion. This never happened before. Do you think ‘twas the potion that caused the seizure?” she asked.

  “I have not thought that it could be the potion, my lady,” the servant said, turning her eyes from the mistress and looking at her with horror. She pulled at her sleeve, twisting it. “I have mixed and given my lady this drink many times before, and I have never seen her react like this.” She glanced at the small vial on the table with uncertainty. “Perhaps I did something wrong. Should I go and search for Margery?”

  She started to nod her head, but then Clarisse recalled the incident near the kitchen. Margery had been so upset then. In her current emotional state, she was unlikely to be of much use. But what else was there to do?

  She looked up at the servant, and found the woman staring at her, waiting expectantly for instructions. It then occurred to her that she didn’t remember the servant’s name. “What are you called, goodwoman?”

  “Ester,” the servant replied.

  “Ester,” she repeated, rolling the word over in her tongue. “I know that name…” she pinched her brows together. “Were you not the servant that served Lady Amelie a warning?”

  “How — how could you know this, my lady?” A frightened look crossed her face.

  “Lady Amelie told me.” She looked at the servant thoughtfully. “She searched everywhere for you, but you had disappeared.”

  “I didn’t know that, my lady.” The older woman dropped her eyes and stared at the bowl in her hands, her grip tightening ever so slightly. “I can’t imagine why Lady Amelie would want to speak with me. I told her all that I knew…”

  “She seemed to think that your life was in danger.”

  Ester looked up, alarm and fear in her eyes. “Does anyone else know about this?” she whispered.

  Clarisse frowned. The servant’s reaction caused her to feel sorry that she had brought up the subject. “Nay,” she said, shaking her head. “Aside from Lady Edeline, Margery and myself, there is no one else who knows about it.”

  Ester swallowed and an expression of relief crossed her face. “The fewer people who know about the warning, the better. The message was only meant for Lady Edeline and her daughter.” She abruptly closed her mouth tightly, and looked as if she didn’t want to say anything further. It was no wonder Amelie feared for the servant’s safety.

  A soft groan emerged from the bed and Clarisse’s gaze dropped to her sick mistress. She noticed drool falling from the corner of her mouth. “Pass me a clean cloth,” she ordered.

  Ester reached over and handed her an extra cloth that hung over her arm.

  “You said that you sent for the physician,” she said, carefully wiping at Lady Edeline’s face. “When did you send for him?”

  “’Twas shortly after you had left, my lady. That was when I sent Ann off to get help.” Ester looked toward the door. “She should be back by now.”

  “The sun is high,” Clarisse said, twisting her lips thoughtfully. She looked at the narrow window at the far end of the bedchamber. “I do not know if we can reach the physician in time. He would likely be making his rounds in town, and ‘twould be hours before anyone can track him down…” She could only think of one other alternative. “Do you know where to find Mistress May?”

  Ester clutched at her apron, seemingly uncertain whether she should reveal what she knew. Then after a brief pause, she said, “The mistress would be collecting wild mushrooms at the moment.”

  Clarisse nodded, although she noted that the servant didn’t really answer her question. As far as she knew, no mushrooms grew near Stanbury. Her thoughts stopped abruptly as she noticed Lady Edeline’s body begin to twitch slightly.

  “’Tis starting,” the servant said, her voice trembling. “The devil has gotten into her again.”

  And the servant was right in her assessment, for the twitching became stronger with each second that passed. Her mistress clenched and grinded her teeth, and soon, she thrashed so hard that Clarisse had to take hold of her, and prevent her from falling off the bed.

  “Go now, Ester!” she said, looking frantically at the servant. “Find the Healer and bring her to the castle!”

  Chapter 26

  Ester rode like the wind. Her destination would have normally taken three hours, but luckily she knew how to cut short her travel time, having gone to the cave on numerous occasions. She had told the stable master that she needed to find the Healer, since Lady Edeline was seriously ill. Once he received confirmation from Lady Clarisse, the stable master gave her little trouble. The fear and panic on her face must have convinced him to saddle up a fine palfrey and not just an old workhorse. Ester had learned how to ride a packhorse when she was young, so she assumed that riding a palfrey would be similar. From overhearin
g the castle ladies, she learned that palfreys were a fast breed of horses that didn’t tire easily. That was exactly what she needed if she wanted to reach Mistress May in time.

  The horse took to her instruction, and she urged it through the thick tangle of trees and undergrowth, pausing briefly to make sure that she followed the appropriate landmarks. Then she started off again.

  With the image of Lady Edeline firmly entrenched in her mind, she made good time. The life of her lady was in thin balance, and Ester was the one link that could save her life. She had no doubt that once she brought Mistress May back to the castle, the Healer would know what to do.

  Ester urged the horse even faster.

  It was with great relief that she saw the familiar boulder up ahead. She remembered it because that particular rock was shaped like a man with a hook nose. Every time she came here with the Healer and her daughter, she had commented upon it.

  Her eyes scanned the cliff until she saw a line of a half-dozen trees that grew wild and thick. The trees blended in with the natural landscape, looking as if a mythical forest guardian had planted them there. But Ester knew better. The mistress had grown those trees several years ago to deter any man or beast from stumbling into the cave and sheltering in it. And the tree cover worked well as no one had yet to discover the cavern.

  Personally Ester would never live in an area like this. It was in the middle of nowhere, with no signs of civilization except rocky terrain and overgrown trees. She glanced nervously around her. And there were probably gray wolves and wild boars roaming loose, animals she wouldn’t want to encounter during the day or night.

  She walked the palfrey to the side of the incline where there was a perfect spot to hide the horses, or anything else that couldn’t be brought up to the cave. When she rounded the corner, she paused slightly at the sight of four horses already there. Mistress May had visitors, which didn’t surprise her too much, considering that Lord Stanbury was in the Healer’s care.