Read My Valiant Knight Online

Authors: Hannah Howell

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

My Valiant Knight (15 page)

“I dinna snore,” she protested amiably as she began to eat. “Not even quietly.”
“Nay, of course not It must have been the wind.”
“Aye, it must have been.”
“And was it the wind which cried out in fear several times?” he asked softly, watching her carefully out of the corner of his eye.
Ainslee sighed and took a small drink of the hearty wine in his wineskin. “Nay, I fear that was me and, nay, ere ye ask, I wasna dreaming of my mother again.”
“Well, whatever was threading through your mind, it was not pleasant.”
She turned to look at him, wondering if he would take her dream as a warning. It had clearly unsettled Ronald almost as much as it had unsettled her. Although she had not seen any sign that Gabel was a man who would believe in dreams or omens, it could do little harm to tell him, she decided and related what she had dreamt about. For a long moment after she had finished, he just stared at her, until she squirmed a little beneath his steady gaze.
“Ye need not swallow your laughter,” she finally said. “I ken that some people put verra little value in dreams.”
Gabel kissed her cheek and then tugged her up against his side. “I have ne’er changed my plans because of a dream, but I do not discount their value completely. Yours is not a comforting one, but I am not sure how to judge its meaning.”
“I judge it to mean that there is danger waiting for us at that river,” she said.
“Well, we knew that ere we set out this morning. We have known that for days. Mayhaps that is what preys upon your mind, and puts such darkness in your dreams.”
“Aye, mayhaps,” she replied, mildly irritated by his response, for it closely matched Ronald’s and she wondered if men did not like to think a dream could tell them anything of real importance.
“ ’Tis evident that you do not think so. What do you think one ought to do? I mean, do you truly believe you have seen the future, that God or something tries to warn you?”
“I dinna ken. It could even be bad beef.”
“We did not have beef last night.”
She softly cursed and frowned at him. “I dinna ken what it means. ’Tis why I told ye and Ronald about the dream, and not about what I think must be done now.”
“And you clearly do not like that confusion. I wish I could tell you it meant something and what that was, or convince you that it means nothing at all. I cannot. Let us say that it is a warning, and one we should heed. So what must we do? Hie back to Bellefleur and cower behind the walls? Face your father armed and prepared for battle, even if he is doing all he agreed to? Or mayhaps we should betray him, creeping up on your kinsmen from behind and killing the whole lot of them ere they can hold a sword against us?”
“Nay, ye canna do any of that,” she grumbled, and tugged fretfully at her braid. “Mayhaps ye are right. I am afraid, I confess it, and that has caused me to see demons and death even when I close my eyes.” She looked at him and clutched at his arm. “Howbeit, let us at least take some extra cautions. Mayhaps this dream is but born of my conviction that blood will be spilled between the MacNairns and the de Amalvilles. Can we not do more to insure that at least it isna spilled at the river this afternoon?”
“Aye, that much we can do. I believe that we have already prepared ourselves well, but I will look again to be sure.”
“Thank ye, Gabel. I beg your pardon for being such a trouble, but—” she stopped talking when he touched a kiss against her mouth.
“You are no trouble.” He smiled slowly. “Well, at least as concerns this matter.”
She playfully struck him on the arm. “Your cousin told me Bellefleur had ne’er had a better behaved prisoner.”
“Bellefleur has ne’er had a prisoner at all until I brought you through its gates!”
Ainslee laughed. “I think ye had best keep a close eye on your cousin, Gabel. Tis clear that she has a clever way with words.”
“I suspected that from the moment she first began to speak.” He smiled fondly as he thought on his cousin, but quickly grew somber again. “We will rest here for only an hour, and then continue on to the river. Just before we reach the bank, I will return all of your weapons to you. I trust that you will not then stick a dagger in me?” he asked.
“Nay, I willna, and I thank ye for doing that as I will feel a wee bit less afraid if I am armed.”
“Do you think you father would do anything to hurt you?”
She shrugged. “Who can say? And least he would pause a moment, if I had a sword in my hand.”
“Only a fool would not at least pause if they faced you when you have a sword in your hand.” He held her close and kissed her, trying to comfort her and himself, yet knowing it was not enough. “I pray I am not sending you into danger,” he said as he rested his cheek against her hair.
“There is naught ye can do to change that. I must be returned to Kengarvey for your sake and for the sake of my people. This could bring some peace to Kengarvey, and it has been far too long since anyone there has enjoyed a day without fear. I owe Kengarvey’s people a chance and, if I dinna go back, I have stolen that away.”
“Aye.” Gabel stood up and held out his hand. “I think we had best rejoin the others. I cannot be alone with you for too long, or my thoughts turn to shedding our clothes and doing something beside talking about duty.”
She stood up and laughed softly, her pleasure over his words briefly cutting through her sorrow. “Ye are a verra greedy mon, Gabel de Amalville.”
“I dearly wish I was a great deal greedier,” he murmured, and stared at her for a long moment before leading her back to camp.
Ainslee hurried to keep pace with his long strides, and puzzled over what he meant. It sounded like a statement of deep regret over the need to send her away, but she feared she might be allowing her heart to see too much behind his words. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but, before she could think of the appropriate way to word the question, they joined Justice and Michael and the chance was gone. As they talked, all of them pretending they were on some pleasant ride over the countryside, she told herself it did not matter. Even if she was right, and Gabel had just expressed some hint of what he felt for her, it would only reveal to her how much more she would be losing when she had to leave.
As soon as everyone had finished eating and the horses had rested, they started on their way again. Ainslee began to recognize the land they crossed over, and her heart sank. There would be no divine intervention. In but a few hours she would be back with her family, and she dreaded it. Gabel may have been thinking of her safety and his fear of hurting her if the de Amalvilles had to fight her father, but his wish for her to leave Kengarvey had given her food for thought. If she ever had the chance and there was some place she could go, she would leave Kengarvey. Although she loved the land itself and many of the people there, it was no longer a place she wished to live in. Somewhere there had to be a haven for her, and she swore that she would find it
“We will be at the river in but moments,” Gabel said as he reined in his horse and dismounted.
“Aye, I recognize this place, although I have been this far only a few times,” Ainslee replied as he helped her down from the saddle.
“I brought along an old mare for you to ride across the river.” He curtly signalled one of his cousins to bring the horse to him. “Your weapons are already packed on her.”
Ainslee looked at the horse Justice led over, and smiled crookedly. “I believe my father will ken that I am not riding Malcolm,” she murmured, and Justice laughed.
Gabel smiled faintly. “I am hoping that he does. ’Tis a spiteful gesture, but, from the moment he asked about the horse before he asked about you, I decided that he would not get it back. This horse has been a good mount and a fine breeder, but she is far past her good years. I hope she is not treated too poorly, but she is now so aged, she would probably die quickly.” He patted the mare’s nose.
“I will try to see that she is pastured weel,” Ainslee promised.
“Good.” Gabel helped her up into the saddle as Justice walked away. Despite his efforts to be calm, he lingered for a moment, his hand stroking Ainslee’s stockinged leg. “There may not be time to say farewell when we reach the river—” he began.
Ainslee leaned down and touched a kiss to his mouth, aching for a deeper one, but knowing that it was neither the time nor the place. “So say it now,” she whispered.
“Faretheewell, Ainslee MacNairn,” he said with an equal softness. “And, for my sake, take care.”
“Aye, as I pray ye will, Gabel. Dinna let my father bring about harm to ye or yours.”
He nodded, briefly tightened his grip on her leg, and remounted his horse. He had known that it would not be easy, but he was alarmed at how hard it was to say goodbye to her. Gabel fought the nearly overwhelming urge to grab her, toss her over his saddle, and ride to places unknown, cursing the king and all his intrigues.
As they rode to the river, the water slowly becoming visible through the trees, he wondered just how big a mistake he might be making. He repeated all the reasons why he had to do what he was about to do and why it was foolish to even think of keeping Ainslee MacNairn for his own, but they had lost the power to soothe him. When he saw the MacNairns waiting on the opposite bank of the river, he cursed. A few problems would have been solved and he might have been able to steal a few more days with Ainslee, if Duggan MacNairn had simply not shown.
He studied his adversary as they rode to the edge of the river and halted. Duggan MacNairn stood right at the edge of the far bank, a big, solidly built man, his hands on his hips and his stance one of arrogance. The man could goad one simply with a look. Seeing the man made Gabel believe everything that had been said of him, and he realized he had had a few doubts. It seemed impossible that any man could be so steeped in wrongs and survive for so long, but one look at MacNairn answered that puzzle. Gabel also got the sinking feeling that the only way they would stop MacNairn from doing exactly as he wished, was to kill him.
Fourteen
“So, ye Norman interloper, ye have brought my whore of a daughter back,” bellowed Duggan MacNairn.
Ainslee rode up next to Gabel just as her father spoke, and quickly reached out to clasp Gabel’s hand. “He but tries to goad you.”
“I know,” Gabel replied between gritted teeth. “I shall ne’er understand him. The way he speaks of you appalls me.”
“He kens no other way to speak.” She chanced a subtle wave to Colin, who stood just behind her father, and, to her delight, her brother warily and hastily returned it.
“Are you still ready to accept the bargain made and hold to your pledge to our king?” Gabel called.
“I am here, am I not, Norman?” Duggan signaled to a man who rode closer to the riverbank.
“He should address you with more respect than that,” Ainslee murmured, but she was no longer paying much heed to her father and his insults.
As Gabel repeated what had been agreed to and Duggan repeated his agreement before witnesses, then repeated his oath to the king, Ainslee studied the area. Her father’s presence was enough to make any wise man suspicious, but it was more than that which caused the hairs on her arms to stand up, tingling and irritating her skin. Her father was being too genial. There was no sign of the rage he should have been in. He was being forced to bow before a Norman knight and swear to support a king he despised. That should have had him nearly tearing his hair out in a fit of fury, but he stood there as if he owned the world itself. That made Ainslee very nervous.
“Something is wrong,” she muttered as Ronald rode up beside her. She spared him a brief glance before returning to her intense study of every patch of ground on both sides of the river.
“What makes ye think so, Ainslee?” Ronald asked, leaning closer to her so that they could hear each other over the bellowing going on.
“Look at my father, Ronald. Where is his anger? He has been beaten, yet he stands there as if he is the victorious one. He should be in such a rage that he needs to be tied to a tree to stop him from lunging across the river in a blind murderous charge at Gabel.”
“Aye, old Duggan does look too at ease.” Ronald looked around. “I canna see anything.”
“Neither can I, and that should make my fears ease some, but they are growing stronger. Curse it, I need to see something, or we shall soon be crossing that river.”
She continued to search, but nothing was there. Inwardly she cursed, wishing she had paid more heed to the tales of her father’s deeds, but she had quickly grown weary of listening to the boasts of all his crimes. Now she could not be sure she knew all the tricks he might play. She needed to be able to point out a trap and have Gabel see it, if she was to stop the trade of her for the ransom. Once that began, she, Gabel, Ronald, and Justice would be in the midst of the deep, swiftly running river, and there would be no way to protect themselves.
“There, has all been said to your satisfaction, Norman?” said Duggan.
“Aye,” replied Gabel, his voice tight with the anger he was struggling to keep in control.
“Then send the little whore to me. I suppose ye mean to return the cripple as weel.”
“He is your man.”
“Mon isna the right word for the old fool. Now, put her back on her horse and send her, whilst I send my mon to meet you.”
“She is riding the horse she is being returned on.”
Ainslee winced as her father spat a multitude of blasphemous words at Gabel. Colin stepped forward and spoke to his father, but it was several moments before MacNairn calmed himself. She realized that she was embarrassed by her father’s behavior. He was a wellborn laird, a knight, yet he acted like the lowest of thieves. The sympathetic way Gabel’s men glanced at her made her cringe with shame.
“I can see nothing,” she snapped, her voice low so that only Ronald could hear her.
“Mayhaps there is nothing to see,” Ronald replied.
There was such a lack of confidence behind his words that she ignored them. Ronald was just trying to ease her fears. He did not believe what he was saying any more than she did. The memory of her terrifying dream haunted her as she looked around fruitlessly trying to locate the trap she knew her father had set.
“It is time, Ainslee,” Gabel said, breaking into her thoughts.
“Nay,” she whispered, briefly caught up in a wave of panic.
Gabel reached out to touch her tightly clenched hands. “Are you that afraid of your father?”
After taking several deep breaths to steady herself, Ainslee turned to face Gabel. “Nay, I but had a moment of fright. ’Tis nothing.”
“Are you sure? You are quite pale.”
“I will be fine.”
“Ainslee—” he began.
She touched her fingers to his lips. “ ’Tis time for us to do what duty demands.”
He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. Slowly they began to urge their horses across the river. At the same time the MacNairn man started across. They were to meet midstream and trade the ransom for her, then return to their respective sides. Although she prayed that nothing was going to happen, that everything would go as it should, and Gabel would ride safely back to his people and go home, she continued to look for some sign of danger.
The MacNairn man was so close she could see the sweat on his face before she finally saw what she sought. When her father’s man cast a nervous glance in the direction she was looking, she knew she was not imagining things. High in a tree on her father’s side of the river was a man with a bow. He was aiming straight at Gabel. Although she was sure there were others scattered through the trees, she did not take the time to look for them.
“A trap!” she cried and kicked out at Gabel.
Gabel slipped to the side as he nearly lost his seat. Before he could right himself, he heard the distinct sound of the arrow passing close by. If he had still been sitting upright in the saddle, it would have buried itself in his chest.
When Ainslee cried out he reached for her, terrified that she had been struck by the arrows now filling the air around them. Instead he saw her try and grab a falling Ronald. Ronald disappeared into the rapidly flowing water, his body twisting and bouncing as he was carried downstream. Ainslee sent Ugly after him, then looked at Gabel. Gabel felt his heart clench at the look on her face, and tried again to reach her even as Justice urged him to ride back to their side of the river.
“Flee while ye can, Gabel,” she said. “Remember, I willna hold ye to fault for what ye will now be forced to do. Watch your back.” She spurred her horse forward, riding straight toward her father.
Gabel yelled after her, but, before he could try and chase her, Justice grabbed the reins of his horse and pulled him back. “Ainslee will get herself killed,” he protested as Justice dragged him along.
“She is trying to save your fool life. Do not waste the chance she has given you!” Justice snapped.
It took Gabel a moment to realize what she had done. By riding straight toward her father, she had sent his men into confusion. They ceased to fire their arrows, afraid that they would hit their laird’s daughter, and the brief respite was all Gabel needed. Even as he obeyed his cousin’s urgings to return to the relative safety of the opposite bank, he heard Duggan MacNairn bellowing at his men to continue shooting their arrows in a blatant disregard for his own daughter’s safety.
Gabel was not able to see how Ainslee had fared until he was back with his men and they had retreated far enough to be out of the reach of the MacNairn arrows. Her horse stumbled up onto the opposite bank, and her father was quick to reach her side. He pulled her out of the saddle and threw her to the ground before she had a chance to draw a weapon and defend herself. Gabel’s two cousins quickly grabbed his reins to restrain him when Duggan MacNairn yanked Ainslee to her feet again and began to pummel her, beating her until she fell, and then kicking her.
“He will kill her!” Gabel cried, but was unable to pull free of his cousins.
“And if you ride blindly to her rescue, you will be cut down,” said Justice. “That will do her no good, and she would not want it. She did this to save you, not to have you charge the whole MacNairn force in a fit of rage and misplaced gallantry.”
“Look,” said Michael, pointing toward the horrifying scene in the MacNairn camp. “There is at least one of those cowards who will not allow him to kill her.”
As he fought to push aside his blind rage, Gabel watched Colin MacNairn grab his father and pull him away. The pair wrestled furiously for a while, the younger man talking all the time. When he finally released Duggan MacNairn, he was struck so hard he fell beside a frighteningly still Ainslee, but Duggan did not return to his brutality. Instead, the laird of Kengarvey turned his attention to the men of Bellefleur.
Both sides glared at each other, but for a while all that was exchanged were a few bellowed insults. Gabel knew his men were eager to fight the MacNairns, furious at the treachery shown them. He hesitated because what had just happened showed him that he did not know what strengths his enemy had, or where all of his men were. There was also Ainslee to consider. If she was still alive, and he forced himself to believe that she was, she would be caught in the middle. The place he had chosen for the meeting had been carefully selected to protect him and his men; but it was not a good place to try and engage an enemy in battle.
“Are we to do nothing?” asked Michael, his handsome face taut with fury.
“I am trying to think of what we can do without risking our slaughter,” replied Gabel, his voice hoarse as he tried to control his own rage. “He will not come to us, so we will have to go after him, and that places us in the midst of the river.”
“Where his archers can murder us at their leisure,” said Justice, pounding his fist against his thigh in a gesture of frustration. “No matter how fast we ride, we will still lose too many of our men.”
“Find Ronald,” he ordered his cousins. “We must swallow our anger and pride and retreat, unless MacNairn tries to charge us, and I do not believe the man is that great a fool.”
“Surely Ronald is dead,” protested Michael.
“Then bring me his body so that I might give him the burial he deserves. I cannot aid her now, but at least she can know I cared for her friend.”
Gabel sat glaring at MacNairn as his cousins rode away. The man knew he was safe. He knew that Gabel would never risk the slaughter of his men in crossing the river. What galled Gabel even more was the sudden certainty that that was why MacNairn had so readily agreed to the meeting place he had chosen. Gabel had been looking for the safest place, and MacNairn had seen the perfect spot for treachery.
As he watched the MacNairns prepare to leave, their taunts searing his ears, Gabel turned his attention to Ainslee. Her brother Colin was tending to her and, when he saw her move slightly, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He had felt certain she was not dead, that Colin had stopped his father in time, but her stillness had troubled him. He felt even more at ease when he watched Colin take her to his horse, set her on his saddle, and mount behind her. For now she was safe from her father, and Gabel felt sure that Ainslee had learned how to stay out of her father’s way at Kengarvey. He wished Ronald was with her, but at least now he had proof that someone at Kengarvey was willing to keep her alive.
“Do we chase them, m’lord?” asked one of Gabel’s men as the MacNairns began to disappear into the thick wood on the opposite side of the river.
“Nay,” Gabel replied through gritted teeth as he fought to restrain his need to go after Duggan MacNairn and cut the man down. “It turns my stomach to but sit here and watch the dogs creep away, but we cannot win against them now. They set the trap and we rode into it. All we can do now is make certain that we do not all die because of my blindness. MacNairn will pay. Sadly, so will all of his people. The arrogant fool thinks he has won, but he has just signed the death warrant for his clan.”
Once the MacNairns were gone, Gabel and his men waited for Justice and Michael to return. Gabel sent a few of his men into the surrounding wood to watch for any further sign of treachery from the MacNairns. When he finally saw his cousins riding toward him, a blanket-wrapped form slung over Justice’s saddle, he sighed. It seemed most unfair that MacNairn’s betrayal should cost Ronald his life. When Ainslee finally learned of her friend’s fate, she would be heartbroken, as the old man had truly been her father as well as her companion.
“He is not dead yet,” Justice announced as he reached Gabel.
“Nay?” Gabel dismounted and took a closer look at the old man before calling for a litter. “How could he survive?” he muttered as he eased the unconscious Ronald off of the horse. “He has suffered an arrow wound to the chest and is chilled to the bone.” As he gently laid Ronald on the ground, he idly patted Ugly’s dripping head as the dog sat down next to the Scot.
“We saw the dog first,” explained Justice as he dismounted and stood next to Gabel. “The beast had pulled the old man from the river. We assured ourselves that he was still alive, tended the wound as best we could, and brought him back.” Justice shook his head as he studied Ronald. “I am not sure he will live to reach Bellefleur though.”

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