Promised to the Crusader. Anne Herries

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      Zander inclined his head and sat down on the blanket his servant had placed for him beneath a sheltering oak. The weather was mild enough, but after the heat of foreign lands he was shivering. He hugged his cloak about him and hoped that it was not a return of the fever that had plagued him for so many months.

      He must avenge his father’s death. The knight who had had him killed for daring to remonstrate at the way he had caught and beaten a runaway servant, raping the man’s wife and daughter, was a beast who deserved only death. Zander would seek revenge for his father—and for the others the Earl of Newark had brutalised and murdered.

      Yet all he truly longed for with his body and his heart was to seek out Elaine and offer her his service. Once he’d hoped for so much more, but now his hopes were ruined—what woman could love a man such as he?

      Chapter Three

      Hidden by the thickness of the trees and the undergrowth in which they had taken refuge at the sound of horns and approaching horses, Elaine held Marion’s hand. Bertrand had taken the horses on a little, fearing that they might snicker and betray the presence of the two women.

      The sound of horses, jingling harness and voices grew louder. The Earl of Newark’s men had gathered in the clearing and were looking for signs.

      ‘Three horses went this way, my lord,’ one of them cried. ‘See where the undergrowth is flattened. ‘They must have gone this way.’

      ‘We cannot be far behind now,’ Stronmar said. ‘If we ride hard, we shall find them within the hour. We must find her, for the earl is anxious she should become his bride.’

      Marion’s hand was trembling. Elaine held it fast, putting a finger to her lips as they heard the sound of the horses riding away.

      ‘That man,’ Elaine whispered. ‘I know him. It is rumoured that he is Newark’s son, born of a peasant woman—and he is even more evil than his father.’

      ‘If they catch Bertrand, they will kill him…’ Marion looked at her fearfully.

      ‘You must not doubt him. He has kept us safe for two days now.’ Elaine’s heart was racing but she raised her head proudly. ‘Come, we must do as Bertrand told us and make our way across the river. We shall meet back at the mill he spoke of earlier and then it is but another day or so to my dower lands.’

      ‘Supposing the earl has sent men to your home?’

      ‘We must meet that possibility when we come to it,’ Elaine said. ‘It seems that they wasted some time in looking for me when my palfrey returned. Bertrand has taken them on a detour and he will return with just two horses, sending the other careering off by itself. Hopefully, the earl’s men will follow it for long enough to get us safe to Sweetbriars.’

      ‘Even if we reach your home the earl may attack.’

      ‘Yes, I know.’ Elaine’s face was pale but determined. ‘I can only pray—’ She broke off as they heard the sound of voices. She tensed, listening hard. Newark’s men or someone else?

      ‘I think there are only a few.’ Marion parted the bushes carefully and looked. ‘Two men ride this way, my lady—a knight, I think, and a servant. The servant’s skin is dark.’

      ‘Let me see…’ Elaine peered through the bushes and then drew back. ‘The knight’s head and much of his face is covered by his chainmail, but the servant wears strange clothes—the clothes of a Saracen, I think.’

      ‘Then we must try to avoid them,’ Marion said. ‘They may be some of the Earl’s men.’

      Elaine was about to agree, when she saw the servant look at his master anxiously and the knight suddenly slipped unconscious from the saddle.

      ‘The knight is ill,’ Elaine cried and, before her companion could stop her, she had left the safety of the trees and was running towards them. The servant had dismounted and was securing the horses to a branch, but Elaine was on her knees and bending over the knight in concern. ‘Sir Knight, I think you are ill,’ she said and touched his gloved hand. His eyes were closed, but he moaned faintly and opened them and she felt an odd tingle down her spine. His eyes seemed familiar, but his skin was almost as dark as his servant’s and she could not have seen him before.

      ‘My master has been very ill,’ the servant said and bent over him, lifting him in his arms as he came to his senses. ‘I am able to care for him. Do not disturb yourself, lady.’

      ‘I would help you if I can,’ Elaine said. ‘I have some skill with herbs and could make you a tisane to restore his strength.’

      ‘Give me the herbs and leave us,’ the servant said. ‘My master would not wish to trouble you.’

      ‘Nay, Janvier,’ the knight said weakly. ‘Do not treat a lady so scurvily.’ His eyes narrowed as he rose to his feet with Janvier’s help. ‘What do you here, mistress? Are you alone?’

      ‘My brother and his wife are nearby,’ Elaine replied, relieved as she saw Bertrand leading the horses towards them. He had made his detour and was on his way to meet them at the appointed place.

      The knight nodded, looking at her oddly. ‘These are dangerous times to travel, mistress. What is your name and where your destination?’

      Elaine hesitated. Should she tell him her story? He was ill and something in his eyes made her feel that she could trust him—but in her precarious situation she must be cautious.’

      ‘We travel to the lands of our lady,’ she replied. ‘My lady is in some danger and we are vowed to help her if we can.’

      ‘Will you tell me her name?’ the knight asked and now he was standing alone without the help of his servant. ‘It might be that we could travel together. It is safer to travel in numbers.’

      ‘My lady’s name…’ Elaine faltered. She wanted to tell him the truth, but Marion was shaking her head. It was perhaps too soon to trust the knight, for he might lead them straight to the earl’s men.

      ‘Her name is the Lady Philippa of Earlsmere,’ she said, the lie coming awkwardly to her tongue. ‘We travel south-west, sir…to the lands of the Marches, between Wales and England.’

      ‘Then bear us company for a little time until we must go our separate ways,’ the knight said. ‘I think perhaps you are in some trouble, mistress. Although my strength is not yet what it should be, my servant and I would protect you if we could.’

      Elaine wavered. Ought she to take this knight at his word? Even as she hesitated, Marion gave her another warning look.

      ‘You are kind, sir, but we travel alone,’ she said. ‘I shall give your squire the herbs, which must be steeped in hot water for six hours, and half a cup of the mixture drunk twice a day. Their healing properties will help you to regain your strength, sir.’

      ‘I thank you,’ the knight said. He laid a hand on Janvier’s arm and the servant held back whatever he had meant to say.

      Elaine gave the servant the herbs, then allowed Bertrand to help her mount one horse while Marion rode pillion behind him.

      ‘You took a risk,’ Marion СКАЧАТЬ