My Valiant Knight (5 page)
“Ainslee,” Gabel called as he tentatively approached her, unsettled by her ashen complexion and the look of stunned horror on her small face. She spun around, facing him with sword in hand. “Do you mean to skewer me as well?” he asked, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace.
“ ’Twould free me,” she said, her voice thick and husky.
“Nay, ’twould get you killed, right here, right now.”
“Your men would hesitate to kill a woman.”
“Not if that woman’s sword was sticking out of my chest.”
A sigh shuddered through her slim body as she handed him her sword, watching morosely as he cleaned the blade. “I probably would have cut your throat, not impaled you.”
When Michael stepped up beside her, Ainslee meekly handed him the rest of her weapons, hesitating only briefly before giving him her second dagger. Her stomach clenched painfully, but she was unable to fully quell the nausea churning inside of her. She had never killed a man before. It was possible that one of the arrows she had loosed at an enemy had found its mark, but she had never stared into a man’s eyes as her sword plunged into his flesh, spilling his life out onto the ground. She felt weak, sickened, and horrified.
“You have ne’er taken a man’s life before?” asked Gabel, signaling Michael to remove the body.
“Nay.” Ainslee shrugged. “Not that I can recall. Certainly not face-to-face.”
“ ’Tis always hard the first time.”
“Why? He was trying to kill me. I should feel nothing, no regret, no mercy.”
“It will take time for that truth to settle into your heart. Just continue to repeat it and soon you will accept it. The man gave you but three choices—flee, which was impossible; hide, another poor choice in such a small place; or kill him before he killed you.” He took her by the arm. “Come, we had best leave this place.”
“The battle is over?” she asked as she looked around.
“Aye. The dogs left alive have fled with their tails atween their legs.”
“Ye didna pursue them?”
“Nay. I think it best if we just leave this place. That may not be all of them. To follow could put us into the midst of a trap. I did not come here to battle outlaws and outcasts. That would only gain me the pleasure of having seen justice done, for I am sure that each one of those men is long overdue for a hanging.”
“Long
overdue.” After he mounted her horse, she allowed him to pull her up behind him. “Do ye think that the others, your men who fled with Ronald, are safe?”
overdue.” After he mounted her horse, she allowed him to pull her up behind him. “Do ye think that the others, your men who fled with Ronald, are safe?”
He nodded as he urged her horse down the rocky hillside. “We will not meet with them again before nightfall. This battle has delayed us, and I fear we will need to camp the night. If all had gone well, we would have been upon my lands by now.”
She rested against his back and struggled to banish the image of the dead man from her mind. It would not be easy. Ainslee feared she would be forever haunted by the look of surprise upon the man’s face as she had killed him, by the way all the life had seeped out of his eyes. She needed to talk to Ronald. He had always been there for her when she was troubled. She prayed Gabel was right, that Ronald was safe and would be waiting for them somewhere along the road.
Ainslee muttered a curse when she was lightly shaken. Soft, deep, male laughter further pulled her out of her sleep. Blinking and rubbing her eyes, Ainslee sat up straighter, looked around her and frowned. She fixed her gaze on the strong arms wrapped around her waist.
“How did I get here? I was riding behind you,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as she tried to clear the fog of sleep from her mind.
“Aye, but you fell asleep,” Gabel replied as he reined the horse to a stop.
“Did I fall from the saddle?”
“Almost. I stopped and had Michael move you.”
“ ’Tis odd that I canna recall that, that I didna wake up.”
“You roused enough to thank him most sweetly.” Gabel dismounted and lifted her down. “We will camp here for the night and will reach my lands in the morning.”
“Is Ronald here?” Ainslee asked, wriggling free of Gable’s light hold and looking around.
“Aye. He and the men were waiting here for us. He is off to your left by the line of trees.”
Gabel watched her run to her companion’s side and was startled by the pang of jealousy he felt. With each moment he spent in her company, matters grew more and more complicated. As his men set up camp and began to prepare a meal, Gabel walked over to Justice and sat down.
“How do you fare today, Cousin?” he asked the younger man as he offered Justice a drink from his wineskin.
“Too well to be imprisoned upon this litter,” Justice grumbled.
“You will only be on it for a short while longer, and then you may lie upon a soft bed to recover.”
“Gabel,” Justice began in protest.
“Do not try and tell me that you are hale and ready to fight at my side. You are still pale, and you wince each time you move. Unless we face a battle where even your weakened sword arm is needed, ’tis but foolishness for you to ignore your wound. Do not let vanity slow your healing, mayhaps even leave you forever weakened in that arm.”
Justice cursed softly and slumped against the rough trunk of the tree he had been set near. “ ’Tis not the wound which troubles me,” he admitted in a faintly sulky voice, “but that I gained it at the hands of a woman. A tiny, red-haired Scottish lass has cut me down as if I was no more than some virginal page.” He glared at Gabel when the man laughed. “I see no humor in this. You need not add to the laughter I will have to endure.”
“Do not fear that your pride will take a bruising. ’Twill soon be known by all at Bellefleur that Lady MacNairn is no weak, pretty child. She killed a man today in a sword fight.” He nodded when Justice gaped at him in surprise. “She armed herself, and one of those outlaws was fool enough to think her an easy kill.” Gabel looked to where Ainslee sat close beside Ronald. “She found her first killing hard to bear, but I believe she has the will to overcome that.”
“Aye, that is one very willful woman. The ladies at Bellefleur will find her a puzzle. No doubt of that.” Justice studied his cousin for a moment before adding, “A woman so brave and skilled would be a good wife for a man trying to grasp a foothold in this wild land.”
“Do not try and choose my wife for me, Cousin,” Gabel said, smiling faintly at Justice to soften the reprimand. “I have decided upon the sort of wife I must have, and, beguiling and stirring to the blood as Ainslee MacNairn is, she is not what I seek. She is but a pawn in a game of treaty.” Gabel avoided Justice’s stare, certain that his lack of conviction in his own words would show in his face. “That lovely girl is one tiny, enchanting packet of trouble, which we must be rid of as swiftly as we can.”
“Ease your mind, lassie,” Ronald soothed Ainslee after she told him all that had happened to her upon the rocky hill. “That mon would have killed ye without a thought.”
“I ken it.” She looked Ronald over carefully, relieved to see that fleeing from the outlaws had not served to worsen his condition. “Ye appear to have survived your flight through the forest.”
“Aye. The lads did their best to travel gently yet swiftly. My only regret is that their care is spent in taking me to Bellefleur and not to Kengarvey.”
“Bellefleur?”
“Aye. That is the name of Sir Gabel’s keep.”
“Bellefleur, eh? It doesna sound a verra strong name for a knight’s fortress. I wonder how he came to choose that name.”
“Methinks ye might
wonder
about that mon far more than might be wise.”
wonder
about that mon far more than might be wise.”
Although she flushed slightly under Ronald’s steady, knowing gaze, Ainslee nodded. There was no reason to hide anything from him. “I fear I might indeed, but I shouldna fret yourself o’er it, my friend.”
“Nay? We could find ourselves held at Bellefleur for a verra long time.”
Ainslee recognized the danger of that as well, but just smiled and patted Ronald’s hand. “Sir Gabel is an honorable mon, and I am a woman full grown. If anything happens betwixt us, ’twill rest upon our own heads.”
She smiled ruefully when Ronald muttered a curse, and wished she felt as brave as she sounded. If Gabel de Amalville had any interest in her as a woman, a long stay at Bellefleur could prove to be very dangerous indeed. However, Ronald could not help her this time. Whatever did or did not develop between herself and Gabel was a matter only she could deal with. All she could do was pray that she had the wit and the strength to do so without endangering them or her own heart.
Five
Bellefleur rose from a dark bed of rock, strong and majestic. As Ainslee reached the crest of a small hill and saw Gabel’s keep, she hesitated. King David was rewarding the Norman very well indeed. Even from a distance the keep bespoke wealth and refinement, neither of which her family had ever attained. The imposing stone fortress was a huge symbol of the massive gap between Sir Gabel de Amalville and herself. All the other differences and complications, from Gabel’s holding her for ransom to her unusual upbringing, could be explained away, pushed aside and ignored. There was no deluding herself about the large, sturdy symbol of power and prestige she was looking at. Bellefleur made Kengarvey look like the meanest of crofter’s huts.
“Have you grown weary, Mistress Ainslee?” asked Gabel as he rode up beside her.
“Nay,” she replied and started walking again, hurrying a little to catch up with Ronald, whose litter she had been walking next to. “I but needed to pause for a moment before climbing the rest of this mountain.” She ignored his grin and frowned at how comfortably he sat astride her ash gray gelding. “I still believe that
my
horse needs a respite from carrying two people.”
my
horse needs a respite from carrying two people.”
“A mount as strong as this would not be troubled by the addition of your small weight.” He stroked the horse’s strong neck. “What do you call the animal?”
“Malcolm,” she replied with little grace, certain that the man planned to keep her horse.
“Malcolm?” Gabel laughed softly and shook his head. “Why call a destrier Malcolm?”
“Why not? ’Tis a good name.”
“A very good name, just an odd one for a horse.”
“I suppose you think I ought to have named him Blood-spiller or Skullcrusher.”
Gabel just smiled and did not respond to her petulance. “What do you think of my Bellefleur?”
“It looks a strong place, something much needed in this land.” She eyed him with a curiosity she made no effort to hide. “And why should a knight call his fortress by such a pretty name?”
“My cousin Elaine named it.” Gabel made a good-humored grimace. “I promised her whatever she wished for the day she turned thirteen. She decided she wanted to name my lands. Bellefleur is not such a poor choice.”
“Nay.” Ainslee briefly contemplated the sort of names a young girl could have thought of, and laughed softly. “It could have been far worse.”
After politely inquiring about Ronald’s health and comfort, Gabel rode to the front of his men. Ainslee made a brief effort to ignore him, then gave into the strong urge to watch him. He rode well, and she reluctantly admitted that he looked very good on the back of Malcolm. She liked her horse and had fought hard to wrest the animal from her family’s greedy hands, but realized that, if Gabel liked and wanted the beast, she would accept the loss. The horse would certainly live a better life at such a fine keep. She doubted that Bellefleur suffered from the lean winters which often plagued Kengarvey, long cold days when even feed for the horses was scarce.
She sighed as she walked toward Bellefleur. Despite her best efforts not to, she had slipped into the occasional reverie about a future with Gabel de Amalville. Bellefleur showed her just how big a piece of nonsense such imaginings were. Her bloodline could not be faulted, but her father’s and grandfather’s actions had stolen all of the other qualifications she needed to make such a good marriage. The lawless ways of the MacNairns over the last fifty years or more had stolen all prestige, power, and riches from the clan. Seeing Bellefleur made it achingly clear that Gabel would gain absolutely nothing from wedding a woman like her. Ainslee doubted that the man would even allow himself to consider the possibility, however briefly.
“Dinna look so mournful, lassie,” Ronald said, drawing Ainslee’s attention his way. “If we must be held prisoners, we have fallen into the right hands. We need not fear these men.”
“Not even if my father refuses to ransom us?” Ainslee asked, not wanting to consider such a possibility, but knowing her father well enough to know that such a possibility existed.
“Nay, not even then. And I dinna think that will happen.”
“Ronald, my father—”
“—is a lawless bastard—aye. Despite his countless faults, he willna leave us to rot with the Normans. He will fear to blacken the MacNairn name. True, the fool hasna the sense to realize near all he has done in his cursed life has thoroughly blackened our name, but leaving his daughter to rot in the hands of his enemies is one thing he willna do. What troubles me is the gnawing fear that he willna abide by any treaty or bargain made to free us.”
“I have worried about the same thing, then scolded myself for thinking so poorly of my own father.”
“ ’Tis no fault of yours, lassie. When a mon acts as your father has over the years, he earns the doubt of even his closest kin.” Ronald reached up to briefly clasp her hand. “Just heed this—if your father means to trick or betray Sir Gabel, he will give no thought to your weel-being. ’Tis a hard truth for ye to face, but ye must face it square. Kenning how treacherous your father can be may be all that saves your life.”
Ainslee lightly squeezed his hand before releasing it. “Ye are right. ‘Tis hard to admit one’s own father canna be trusted, not even to keep his child safe from harm, but I accepted that distasteful truth a long time ago. I but suffer from the occasional twinge of guilt o’er thinking it. What troubles me is the feeling that I ought to warn Sir Gabel.”
“The mon kens what your father is, sweeting.”
“True, yet, Sir Gabel is an honorable mon, I think. An honorable mon isna often weel-armed against a mon like Duggan MacNairn. The betrayals my father can commit wouldna be easy for a mon like de Amalville to guess at.”
“Weel, ye must follow what your heart tells you. If the time comes when ye can see that your father means to pull some trickery, to break a bond of honor, and Sir Gabel doesna see it, ye can speak out without fear of being a traitor. It canna hurt to let Sir Gabel see that at least one of the MacNairns understands the meaning of honor.”
As they rode through the huge, iron-studded gates of Bellefleur, Ainslee began to feel painfully conspicuous. She knew that her clothes had suffered badly from their travel, and that she was probably dirty as well. There had been little opportunity to wash off all the travel dust clinging to her. When two women rushed up to Gabel to cry welcome and embrace him, Ainslee felt even worse. The women were adorned in lovely gowns of a soft, flowing material. Ainslee felt as if she wore rags. It was pinched vanity which caused her such discomfort and she knew it, but she was unable to push it aside. All she could think about was what Gabel must think when he looked at the lovely dark-haired women greeting him, and then looked at her.
Before the women could ask any questions, Gabel instructed two men to take Ronald to a room and make him comfortable. Ainslee tried to follow Ronald, but Gabel grabbed her by the arm and tugged her into the great hall, ushering the two blatantly curious women in ahead of him. Ainslee was gently pushed into the seat on his right and waited in tense silence as the two pages hastily served them a light repast of sweet wine, bread, and cheese. By the time Gabel introduced her to his aunt Marie and her daughter Elaine, Ainslee’s stomach was so knotted with nerves she could barely eat.
“You should have sent word that you were bringing guests,” Marie gently scolded Gabel.
Gabel slouched comfortably in his high-backed oak chair, sipped wine from an etched silver goblet, and smiled at his petite aunt “Lady MacNairn’s addition to our party was quite unexpected. Aye, she is a guest, but, then too, she is not.”
“You confuse me, nephew.”
“I wish the Lady Ainslee and her companion to be treated as our honored guests, but they are also to remain under guard. They are being held for ransom. You look quite shocked, Aunt. ’Tis not as if such a happenstance was rare.”
“True, but you have never dealt with anyone in such a manner.”
“A mere whim of fate. No one has fallen into my hands is all.”
“Ransoming is quite common in Scotland, m’lady,” Ainslee said, then wondered crossly why she felt any need to defend Gabel’s actions.
“You have been ransomed before?” asked Elaine, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of horror and fascination.
“Weel, nay. My brother George was held once,” Ainslee replied.
“You must have been terrified. Gabel, how could you be so cruel?”
“Oh, I kenned that he wouldna hurt me,” Ainslee assured the girl.
“And just when did you
ken
that?” Gabel asked. “Was it before or after you tried to cut my heart out?”
ken
that?” Gabel asked. “Was it before or after you tried to cut my heart out?”
Ainslee intended to ignore him, but then Elaine cried, “You tried to kill Gabel?”
“When he and his men first appeared I did attempt to defend myself,” Ainslee said, briefly casting an annoyed look at a faintly smiling Gabel. “I saw no gain in simply standing there and awaiting my fate.”
“You must have been very frightened. And, mayhaps, you still are, for you eat very little.”
“My appetite is somewhat dulled for I am weary and havena had the time or the chance to clean away the dust of my travels.” She had to bite back a smile when Gabel’s aunt looked at him with a hint of outrage and sternness.
“Gabel,” Marie said, tapping her nephew’s arm with her finger. “Have you no manners? The poor child must be shown to a room immediately. Come, Elaine, you and I shall see that a bath is prepared, and we shall search out some clean clothing for our guest.” As Marie stood up, tugging her daughter up beside her, she added, “Lady MacNairn may stay in the bedchamber Lady Surtelle stayed in last month!”
“You enjoyed seeing me scolded like some errant boy,” drawled Gabel as soon as his aunt and cousin left the great hall.
Ainslee smiled sweetly at him. “Aye, I did.”
“Then I had best take you to your quarters ere my aunt returns and provides you with even more enjoyment.” He stood and held out his hand to her.
“Ye appear to have a multitude of cousins residing with you.” Ainslee hesitated only a moment before allowing him to take her by the hand and help her to her feet. Refusing to touch him would certainly make him suspicious, and she did not want him to guess how much even his light touch affected her.
Gabel nodded as he led her out of the great hall and up the narrow curving steps to the bedchambers. “I have a large family and, at this time, there is a greater chance of advancement here in Scotland or even in England. Then there are the ones such as my aunt who was left a widow and, through the sly work of her husband’s kinsmen, lost all her lands and money. One must care for one’s family. Those my brothers cannot care for are sent here and some, such as my poor aunt, feel a true need to leave France.” He looked down at her as he stopped before a thick, iron-banded door. “Do you not shelter your kinsmen?”
“There arena many who wish to be sheltered at Kengarvey. In truth, most of our kinsmen arena speaking to us, and stay as far from us as they are able. They dinna wish to be dragged down with my father. ‘Tis evident that they were wise to separate themselves for the king himself has now decided that my father must be punished. ’Tis why ye were riding to Kengarvey.”
“Aye. I have made no secret of my purpose,” he said as he opened the door to the bedchamber.
“Weel, I pray ye willna think ill of me if I am not so forthcoming.”
“Ah, you fear you may tell me something that I could use against your father.”
“Aye. I dinna like the way my father acts, am even ashamed of all of the wrongs he has committed, but he is my father. To help ye defeat him would be a great betrayal of my own blood.”
“I understand. I would not ask such a thing of you. I hope you find these quarters comfortable. You are free to move about as you please within the walls of Bellefleur, but ’twould be unwise to attempt escape.”
It was politely said, but Ainslee could hear the cold steel beneath his courteous warning. She smiled and entered the room, inwardly wincing when he shut the heavy door behind her. The bedchamber was far more elegant and comfortable than any she had ever slept in. Heavy tapestries warmed the stone walls. Sheepskins cut the chill of the floor. She was drawn to the fireplace that covered the wall opposite the bed, entranced by the luxury she had only heard tales of. After she warmed her hands at the small fire burning there, she sat on the large bed, not surprised to find that the thick mattress was stuffed with feathers and not the coarse hay she was accustomed to. Gabel de Amalville may have been landless, but he had clearly had a very full purse when he arrived in Scotland. She did not know any Scotsman, save perhaps the king himself, who could afford such luxuries as chimneys and feather mattresses.
A soft rap at the door pulled her out of her morose thoughts concerning this further proof of the vast differences between her and Gabel. She opened the heavy door and caught a quick glimpse of young Michael standing guard, before the maids scurried in with her bath. Yet another luxury she was unused to, she thought crossly as she watched the wooden tub set before the fire and filled with hot water. She weakly thanked the maids when they handed her scented soap, warmed drying clothes and clean clothes of a quality she could never afford. Only one of the maids was less than friendly and courteous. From what the others said as they hurried the glaring young woman from the room, Ainslee realized the maid was enamored of Gabel’s cousin Justice.
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