A Knight for Love (18 page)

“It would get us inside the bailey, mayhap quicker than over the walls,” Gerard replied thoughtfully. “Of course, either way, they’ll barricade themselves within the castle, lasting as long as does the food and water. Is there a well within the castle walls?”

“I don
’t know. I’ll ask Alyna.”

“Food,” Gerard continued, “will be difficult for them to replenish without access to the gardens and livestock within the bailey, for of course we would hold that.”

“Aye,” Warin nodded. “But bear in mind we will face a barrage of arrows. Not to mention slops and boiling oil if we get too close.”

“A well
-placed shield can counter the arrows. As for the others, keep your distance,” Bennet said confidently.

“True. But if they do not yield, sooner or later we must storm the castle entrance.”

“Facing an enemy weakened by starvation,” Gerard said.

“Sometimes the desperate animal is the most dangerous.” Warin’s voice was firm. “But you speak true, Gerard. By that time, those within will be weak.”

He fell silent. In truth, he had no intention of letting the situation run longer than a month or two for he didn’t want his new wife to face the winter camped out in a tent. He wanted her safely lodged within her rightful home.

Furthermore, his intuition told him the defenders would be weak, not of illness or starvation, but of will and desire and would not have the stomach for a long and bitter fight.

“Enough,” Warin said abruptly. “Once we arrive at Caperun Keep, we can see which plan best fits our purpose.” He waved Gerard and Bennet away and turned on his heel, eyes searching for the figure of Alyna.

She was nowhere to be seen.

A frisson of fear brushed his spine before he spied her coming around the tent, wiping her hands on her skirts.

“Alyna!” He called out to her, hard pressed to hide the pleasure in his voice. She had obviously taken the time to refresh herself in the little stream for her face was pink with cold and a few crystalline droplets clung to the few st
rands of hair that had sprung free of her scarf.

“Aye, my lord?” Her tone was gay, her manner free.
She tilted her head and smiled up at him. His heart leapt at the invitation in her eyes and he had to forcibly jam his fists into his pockets to stop himself from seizing her and kissing her senseless there and then.

“Come,” he commanded, waving her over to sit by the
camp fire closest to their tent. Someone had placed an upended log beside it and he gestured for her to sit down.

“How have you fared this day?” He asked the question as if they had been husband and wife for nigh on ten years rather than only a single night.

“Very well,” she replied, smiling up at him. “The king’s knights are a jolly lot. They tell me the tent is to be ours to share? How thoughtful. And a deer has been felled for our supper tonight.” She pointed to the spitted chunks of venison dripping fat into the flames, droplets sizzling as they disappeared in the heat. “I vow nothing has smelled finer for my stomach begs for food.”

“Aye.” Warin inclined his head.
His stomach growled at the aroma of roast venison. But he had something to do before they could eat. “Wait here, my lady Alyna, I have a gift for you.”

Alyna watched him walk away, towards the
hobbled horses grazing behind the tent. He disappeared from her sight for a moment, only to reappear carrying his saddlebags. He dropped them at her side and then scuffled about inside first one, then the other before pulling something out.

“Alyna, for you.”

He held out a piece of the sky, lustrous blue and brightly foreign against the autumn golds and browns surrounding them. A half smile curved his chiseled lips and the long ebony locks framed his jaw.

His eyes were bright with anticipation and she had a difficult time tearing her gaze away, for she wanted to lose herself in the twinned icy blue depths. Finally, slowly, she looked down to the item he held so proudly in his hands.

It was the peacock blue damask tunic, the one she had so admired the day of the joust. The gift stunned her.

Incredulous, she looked at it, then at him. “How? What?” She faltered with the words, not wishing to appear ungrateful.

Her hands trembled as she took it from him, a little awed by the idea that he had actually bought her a gift. She unfolded it and held it out in front of her.

“And these. The tailor suggested them
….” His voice faded away, obviously a little embarrassed to be holding such apparent feminine items.

He handed her a snow white satin kirtle, trimmed with ermine, and a delicate silken chemise, so gossamer fine she could see his fingers through the fabric.

“They are beautiful, my lord Warin.” Tears sprang to her eyes at the unexpected gesture. “I thank you for the fine gift.”

“To see you garbed in these will be the only thanks I need.” Warin swept her a gallant bow. “My lady deserves nothing better.”

A small crowd of knights had gathered about them during the exchange and a raucous cheer went up. Alyna, disconcerted with the attention, swept a bewildered glance about, not sure where to look. Finally, she lowered her eyes to her lap, to the fine fabrics that lay there.

“Be gone,” Warin muttered to the onlookers. “Have you naught to do?”

“Go about your duties. Robert! Theobald! Off!” Gerard stepped up besides Warin and waved the men away. “Pray accept my apologies for their untoward behavior, my lord.”

“Nay,” protested Alyna. “No offense has been taken,
it was but a pleasant diversion for them. I would have done the same if in their boots.”

“All the same, it is not seemly behavior to be so familiar with my lady and her lord,” Gerard said.

“My lady Alyna is correct. No harm was done, rather, I carry the blame for I chose inappropriately.” Warin swept another elegant bow towards Alyna. “My apologies.”

“Oh.” Alyna wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Did this mean
he regretted the impulse that had evidently taken over his better judgement? Did he carry the blame for his choice of gift or the time he had chosen to present it? Now that she thought on it, it had been odd for him to purchase the tunic at the joust for how had he known at that time that he would have occasion to gift her with it, that he would know her sufficiently well to do so? It puzzled her.

“Alyna? The gift pleases you?”
Voice anxious, Warin shifted from one foot to the other.

“Aye,” she
whispered. “Aye.” Then she looked him full in the face. “I’ve never owned such a beautiful tunic.”

“I should have given it to you earlier,” he said apologetically. “For our wedding. But it happened so quickly, I didn
’t think of it. Even if I had, I had no time to get it. And since then, my mind has been on other things.” She couldn’t mistake his meaning – he referred to last night. She reddened.

“There will be more occasions for me to wear it,” she replied. “And I will be proud to do so.” She caressed the tunic then held the chemise to her cheek to feel its softness. “Thank you.”

He nodded once in acknowledgement then bowed again. “By your leave, my lady.” He started to walk away.

“Warin? My
—my lord? How did you know?” She forced the question out before she lost her nerve. “How did you know we would wed? Why did you buy the tunic?” Her query stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Because,” he
drawled, turning around to face her again, “you brought me luck that day. And to thank you for this.” He held aloft the amber ribbon she had given him prior to the joust. “I didn’t know we would wed, I only meant to give the clothing to you when we parted.”

“Oh.” His words disappointed her. What did she expect, that he would declare himself to her? His response was perfectly reasonable, of course he would have had no ulterior motive in the purchase.

But still, hope flared in her breast. He had gone out of his way to get the tunic she had so admired. The thought comforted her.

Chapter Twelve

To the surprise of no one, Philippa stood firm on her hold of Caperun Keep. The parlez had been a farce
, her disdain of Warin, Bennet and Gerard clear as they sat on their horses in the bailey.

She addressed them from the landing of the entrance turret.

“You have no claim here,” she informed them, voice dripping with insolence, violet eyes narrowed.

“I beg to differ, Lady Philippa, for I hold the writ here given by King Henry himself.” Warin waved the scroll in the air. “By his order, I am husband to Alyna and lord of these lands.”

“A forgery,” she sneered at them, seemingly unaffected by his revelation. “Do you think I’ll fall for such deception?”

“Have your Father Gilbert read it,” Warin replied reasonably.

“He isn’t here.” Her answer was short, clipped and she turned about as if to leave.

She
apparently felt no threat, for her men, Odo amongst them, lined the battlements about her. They said nothing – they had no need to speak for the bristling weapons they held spoke volumes.

“I warn you, madame, I will resort to violence if needs must.”
Warin’s warning was ominous, calculated to scare.

Philippa, however, was not easily browbeaten. She stopped for a moment as if considering his last words. Then, “Do as you will, then, for I hold the castle. You
’ll not find it easy to breach.”

She disappeared into the turret, head high and back rigid, just daring him to attack her at this very moment.

Warin sat still for a moment as the blood began to boil within his veins. He couldn’t abide her smug air, her certainty that all was settled within her world.

Cold, steely resolve set in. His eyes narrowed, his lips thinned and the sculpted jaw took on a stubborn hue. Aye, the battle to regain Caperun Keep would be sweet justice.

“Come,” he ordered to Bennet and Gerard, wheeling Citadel about and digging his heels in. As they galloped away, Warin heard the squeal of the drawbridge being lowered and the solid thud of the gates closing.

The battle had begun.

*****

Alyna
knew right away the parlez had not been successful, for the grim faces of the threesome as they entered camp spoke volumes.
Hmmph
, she thought,
they had but to ask me and I would have told them the futility of discussion with Philippa.
Philippa heeds no counsel but her own.

However, she held her peace and waited for the words to spill from Warin’s mouth.

“That one is a witch,” he snapped, addressing Alyna as he threw the reins over a hanging branch.

“Aye.”

“Verily.”

Bennet and Gerard agreed wholeheartedly as they
padded along behind him.

All were obviously vexed yet
a hidden current of excitement coursed through them at the prospect of warfare.

The
other men crowded around Warin, Bennet and Gerard and an animated buzz filled the clearing as orders were shouted about and men stomped off to their appointed duties. Soon, shouts and whoops sounded from the surrounding forest as the search began for suitable trees with which to build a catapult and battering ram, as well as for objects to lob over the castle walls.

Alyna, watching from her stump by the fire, was hard pressed to conceal her puzzlement and, yes, apprehension.

Battle. An ever present fact of the times yet in her life to date she had not been an actual witness to it. Due to the abilities of her father, Caperun Keep had never been besieged and any skirmishes or disputes had occurred on other lands. True, she had seen the aftermath with wounded men and shrouded corpses but that was all.

Nevertheless, she was no coward. She would lend aid where needed, from stitching wounds to tending the horses to cooking. Resolute, she stood and addressed Warin.

“I am an extra pair of hands,” she announced, fists planted firmly on her hips. “I wish to fight too to recover Caperun Keep.” She lifted her chin and stared hard at him. He would not dissuade her.

He seemed a bit taken aback by her vehemence but the quirked eyebrow and little smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth showed his pleasure with her
declaration.

“Aye,” he agreed. “All help is welcome for we engage in active battle. But,” he held up a finger in admonishment, “I will bid Bennet to give you aid and protection.”
He glowered at her from beneath lowered eyebrows, as if he anticipated her defiance to Bennet’s role as guardian.

“We are agreed then.” Alyna smiled prettily at him and dipped a little curtsy. “My lord.”
She clasped her hands to her chest. She didn’t find it unreasonable to have Bennet at her side. He would prove no hindrance to her in her fight for Caperun Keep.

“Aye, we are agreed,”
Warin grunted, then waved at Bennet who bolted over as fast as his bandy legs could carry him. “Bennet, I charge you with the safe keeping of Lady Alyna.”