lady to whom you gave your promise?’
‘Yes. She did not know me, Janvier—or she did not wish to acknowledge it. Either way…’ He shook his head. ‘Yet she was dressed as a yeoman’s sister. Why was she in disguise—and where was she going?’
‘Perhaps she merely bears a likeness to your lady?’
‘I was not certain enough to reveal myself,’ Zander said. ‘I would prefer to be stronger before I offer her my service—and I must still avenge my father.’
‘You must regain your strength before you can think of revenge.’
‘Yes.’ Zander nodded. ‘I feel better now. I think it was merely tiredness that made me fall from my horse—but I should like you to make up the brew she told us of, Janvier. I will try her cure and see if it improves my health.’
‘Do you trust her?’ Janvier said. ‘If she concealed her identity, she lied to you.’
‘Yes, and I believe she is in some trouble. We shall follow where they lead, my friend, a little behind and see what transpires.’
‘I thought you wished to avenge your father?’
‘I do—but if the lady is going where I think she must be, I shall not be so very far from Newark’s lands. He has many manors and one of them lies only a few leagues distant from Sweetbriars.’
‘If you would risk your life for her, she must be special to you, my lord?’
‘I would give my life for hers willingly. I am determined to follow the route they took. We are but half an hour behind them; their horses are of the common sort and will not bear them as swiftly as our destriers. We should catch them before nightfall, but we shall watch them from a distance. I would know more of where they go and why before I reveal myself to her.’
‘We shall rest here for a while by the stream,’ Bertrand said and dismounted. He helped Marion down and then went to assist Elaine. ‘We are sheltered in this hollow and the horses can go no further until they rest for a while.’
Elaine looked about her. They had not seen the stream until they crested The rise. Perhaps the earl’s men would ride by if they came this way.
‘We have no choice,’ she said. ‘The horses are weary and so are we. We must eat and drink and so must our horses, for we should be lost without them.’
‘I will take them to the shallow edge to let them drink,’ Bertrand said. ‘Rest there beneath the tree, lady. Marion will bring you food—and there is water to drink from the well we passed.’
‘Marion must rest before she prepares our food,’ Elaine replied. ‘Later, we will prepare the meal together.’
‘That would not be fitting, my lady,’ Marion said.
‘It would appear odd if I did nothing while you two worked,’ Elaine said with a smile. ‘I am supposed to be your equal, Marion, not your lady. Come, sit and rest beside me, and then we shall prepare the food together.’
‘Do as your lady bids you,’ Bertrand said and led the horses to the edge of the stream, where they began to drink thirstily.
Elaine was deep in thought when Marion sat on the blanket beside her and rested her back against the tree. She had not been able to put from her mind the thought of the knight who had been so exhausted that he fell from His horse. She wondered if he had been to the Holy Land and whether he had been injured there. His servant was most likely a Moor or a Saracen, though how could it be that he had chosen to serve a Christian knight? Elaine was certain the knight must be one of those who had taken the Cross and followed King Richard on his crusade. Why else would his skin be so dark that he looked like a Saracen?
What was it about his eyes that seemed so familiar? She puzzled over it in her mind but, though the answer seemed close, it lay behind a curtain of mist. She could never have met him, for surely she would remember?
Zander looked down from the rise on the man and two women as they began to load their belongings on to the packhorse. Then the man came to help the woman who claimed to be his sister up to her horse before seeing to his wife. There was something reverential about the way he assisted his sister—but of course that was merely a disguise.
The lady was a lady, not a person of the yeoman class. He’d known when he heard her voice and as time passed grew more certain that she was Elaine Howarth—the woman he had pledged to return and marry. Her face had been a little brown for she’d always had a true English-rose complexion—but mayhap she had stained it with walnut juice. Some of the knights had used that ruse when trying to infiltrate the Saracen’s camp.
His thoughts led him to the same conclusion; she and her companions were hiding from someone—someone who meant them harm. Zander watched the two horses and their riders move away and then let his horse wander down to the water’s edge. They had ridden hard and could afford to let their quarry go on a little. It had been easy enough to discover their route, for they had stopped in a nearby village to take water from the well and buy bread and cheese.
Why would Elaine choose to ride with so few escorts? She must know that she was at the mercy of unscrupulous men. Even with her face stained she was lovely—and there were many that would want her dower lands. Why would her father allow it?
Perhaps her father had died and she was at the mercy of some unscrupulous guardian.
Of course! The solution came to him in a flash. She was hiding from someone who wished to force her into marriage and take her fortune for himself.
Zander frowned. She needed his protection, but she had refused to trust a stranger, fearing that she would be led into a trap. He must either reveal himself to her—which he was reluctant to do yet—or he must follow behind and watch over her.
He was not yet strong enough to fight for her himself, though Janvier would do his best if asked to lend his protection. Zander knew that when he sought revenge on his enemy he would need strong men to fight for him. He must recruit them—and they would soon be at the estate of his uncle, his mother’s brother, Sir Roderick Harvey. There they would find friends, but if he stayed with them he might lose sight of Elaine.
‘You must follow the lady and her companions,’ he told Janvier as he brought food and wine from their packhorse. ‘This night I shall stay with my uncle and follow in the morning with all the men I can muster.’
‘Leave you to travel alone?’ Janvier looked at him uneasily. ‘If you should faint again…’
‘I shall not, for I feel a little better. Give me some of Elaine’s herbs and I will brew them this night.’
Janvier frowned. ‘You place much trust in a lady who would not trust you with her name or destination.’
‘I know where she goes. We have been heading steadily south-west all day. She means to try to reach her dower lands. I fear that rogues are pursuing her.’
‘It is your wish that I follow and do what I can to protect them?’
‘For the love you bear me, protect her whom I love if you can,’ Zander said. ‘In the morning we shall follow and in good time I dare say we shall come up with you.’
‘I
