Her Haunted Knight Read online

  He tossed the boy high, giggles filled the forest, and Rose smiled. Clearly, she’d passed the first of God’s trials. Mayhap, He would soon again listen to her prayers and she’d be able to return home.

  With the wee lad bouncing on his shoulder, the knight smiled at her for the first time since seeing her near-naked. “Tell me. Why were you walking alone and unguarded? A beauty like you should take more care.”

  No one had ever said or even alluded to such a thing and it stunned her mute. When she thought back on it later, that’s the only reason she could give for not telling him all the trouble she was in. Instead, she lifted her tunic so as to walk faster and followed him back to the camp.

  “Are you from the priory?” he asked.

  “Ah, no. I mean, yes, but I cannae return right now.” She stared down at the muddy path filled with roots and trampled leaves.

  God have mercy. Telling falsehoods is difficult.

  He frowned, no doubt quite aware that something was amiss. “Well, I won’t have you wandering about. You can sort it all out with your masters.”

  “No need.”

  “I insist.” He grabbed her wrist making it impossible to run as they made their way back to the road.

  Upon arriving, she gaped at the long line of wagons and horses. She’d been so busy attending to the wounded that she hadn’t noticed how many traveled in the man’s company.

  There must be over two hundred souls.

  When the leader placed the child in his mother’s arms, the woman wept openly and others gathered. They beckoned Rose to join them so she did, albeit with some hesitancy.

  I should not be here. I should be running for my life.

  The pooling of Cecilia’s blood and the horror of the morning flashed in her mind’s eye. Surely, the bishop wouldn’t burn her at the stake without getting to the truth? However, she recalled the last words of the abbess and shuddered. No matter what, a servant would never be believed over nobility.

  I’ll be ashes by dawn if I don’t put distance between me and the priory.

  While she stayed with the women, the leader mounted his charger and spoke with the brown-skinned healer in their strange language. By the way their horses whinnied and tossed their manes, Rose surmised they were about to depart so she shuffled off the path, eyeing the brambles.

  A sudden shout made her jump. “Stay with the wagon, nun. Don’t wander off.”

  “Wait, I’m not a nu—”

  The leader’s dark eyes met hers, then pointed at a mounted warrior. “Doğan, see to it she comes to no harm.”

  Damnation.

  She was about to explain how a lay-sister was much different than a nun but it already was too late. The lord’s eyes faced forward and this Doğan person positioned his charger directly behind where she stood. Clearly, escape would not be possible anytime soon.

  Then, the leader raised a powerful fist in the air and the cart’s wheels made deep tracks in the forest path but in the wrong direction.

  She was heading back to the priory!

  Rose meandered over to the sick boy’s mother and tugged on her sleeve. “When we stop, will ye hide me?”

  “Sorry. No English.” The beads on her forehead rattled as she shook her head and pointed at another, about Rose’s age, wearing the same foreign clothes.

  The girl took her hand and spoke softly so as the man riding behind would not hear. “Why hide? What’ve you done?”

  Sighing, Rose clasped her hands and hoped that God would start to pay more attention.

  “I know this may be hard to believe, but ye must. This morning, I heard the most awful screams coming from my church. When I entered, I saw the newly made abbess kill my dear friend, Cecilia. Had I not defended myself, I too, would be dead.”

  “How horrible. Why didn’t you tell Hugh, our leader?”

  “Do ye really think he’d believe me over her? I’m nothing but a servant.” Rose considered approaching the man but the many weapons on his person changed her mind. Best to stay with the caravan and run as soon as possible.

  “Where is your home?” Rose turned her gaze back to the brown-skinned woman with the thick black lashes.

  She shrugged, “No one knows, save Aliyar and m’lord Hugh.”

  “Azzah?” An older woman walking behind them called out and her new friend turned to leave but Rose grasped her upper arm.

  “Wait. Will ye hide me when we get to the priory? Prithee. For just a little time?”

  White teeth showed bright against dark skin as she bobbed her head. “You healed my nephew. For that, we will always be indebted.”

  Chapter 2

  From where he rode at the front of his caravan, Hugh Le Despencer turned to see what had become of the sweet nun with the features of an angel. He tried to convince himself that his concern had nothing to do with how his lower appendage swelled. She was simply a young, naive woman that needed protection.

  Hadn’t he always prided himself on complete control over his baser nature? And yet somehow, she’d breached that armor. How could the woman have no idea that her tunic was see-through when wet?

  Not only that, he would’ve bet a gold coin that she wanted more.

  God’s blood. I wish to bed a nun?

  “How is little Val?” Aliyar twisted his head to follow Hugh’s gaze back toward the carts.

  “The last I saw, he had hold of his wooden sword and was killing off imaginary Scots.”

  “Allah be praised.” Ali stroked his dark beard with one hand, holding the reins with his other. “Where did that nun come from? Why was she out on the road alone?”

  “I assume she’s from Lanercost but when I insisted we take her home, she wasn’t keen on it.”

  Aliyar’s eyes warmed when he spied Azzah talking to the nun. “Odd.”

  “I thought so, too. That’s why I asked Doğan to make sure she didn’t run off.”

  “Regardless, she’s a talented healer. If she doesn’t want to go back to the priory, I could make good use of her.” Grinning, Ali raised an eyebrow and faced forward when Hugh glowered, clearly not amused by the double-meaning.

  “She’s married to Christ. Don’t even think what you’re thinking.”

  “And why does He insist on marrying the pretty ones? Seems to me he’s got plenty of brides. He could leave one for a poor, pitiful infidel.” Laughing, Ali shook his head, no doubt noting how Hugh gripped his sword and clenched his jaw.

  “Best not let anyone hear you say such things in Lanercost or you’ll be roasted on a spit and fed to the swine.”

  “Ah, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? Who’d protect your sorry hide, eh? But let’s not quarrel. Tell me, how did she do it? Heal little Val?”

  Hugh shifted in his saddle, his man’s length nigh onto bursting at the recall of her lovely, rosy nipples. “She took him to a frigid spring and strode in, gown and all.”

  Ali’s eyes narrowed, his smirk grew wide, and his brows raised. “In just her linen tunic? Well, well, well. No wonder—”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I meant to say that I now understand why she wears your outer tunic.” Ali, once he had the scent of scandal was more hound than man. Hugh would be subject to his jibes for eternity if he knew how much the little nun had affected him.

  Thus, he forced his face impassive and his voice neutral. “I didn’t want her chilled. Her clothes were soaked.”

  “Of course not. And did you watch as she changed?”

  “I did not. I averted by eyes.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Enough, Aliyar! Never mind all that. How fare the injured men?”

  The damnable man snickered. “None were martyred, m’lord. The name Destroyer will cause all on this forsaken continent to shake in their boots, except perhaps for those in green. I thought you said that those savages stayed north of the wall. What were they doing in Inglewood?”

  “The chieftain said we were trespassing. When I told him that I knew full well that the forest belon
ged to Edward, he balked. He’s no more than a common ruffian.”

  “And yet his men fought well. I suspect he may return with more to finish what he started.”

  “Which is why we should rush to the priory. From there, it’s but a half day’s ride to Carlisle. We’ll leave the women and children with the holy order until we finish our quest.”

  The trees grew thinner, spots of sun speckled the forest path and a sense of urgency grew within Hugh. He clicked his tongue, Wind picked up her pace, and Ali waved his sword overhead.

  With all moving faster, Aliyar began the conversation anew. “What do you know of this Bruce? The further north we go, the more doubts I have about your king’s control of the border.”

  “That’s exactly why I agreed to his terms. What better place for a tribe of mercenary knights to settle? Besides, it’s rather late in the day to have doubts, my friend.”

  “Edward’s deal reeked worse than his moat.”

  Hugh’s gut tightened. It’s true. The conversation with Edward had not gone well. In Jerusalem, the young prince had needed good men and was willing to promise the moon to get them. However, now that Hugh had come to collect on that debt, the king’s priorities had obviously changed. Edward’s demeanor was cool as he sent Hugh north with barely time to rest his people and his horses.

  If not DeBruce, Hugh would barter with King Alexander of the Scots or the devil himself. He and his people would have a place to call home or die trying.

  The road out of the woods curved around a long stretch of marshland covered in violet blooms and beyond that, stood the walls of Lanercost. A cross on the battlement towers touched the clouds as did many colorful banners flapping in the wind.

  The huge keep was newly constructed yet using the same gray stones as the ancient wall. It was said that ancient Romans had built the wall to keep out the savages and went on for as far as the eye could see in either direction.

  After putting Doğan in charge, Hugh and Aliyar approached the massive door under an arch in the twenty-foot wall. When a peek-hole slid open, Hugh took out the king’s missive and held it aloft for the tonsured man to read. Even though struggling with the handwriting, the priest seemed to recognize the twin lions pressed into the red wax and opened the door.

  Then, an old knight in tarnished armor appeared and pointed toward an empty field, filled with straw men. “You two can enter. Have the rest wait in the training field.”

  Hugh whistled and pointed to Doğan who led the caravan to a safe, albeit muddy sanctuary. When he was sure his people were safe, he let the knight lead them through a huge open area, under Roman arches, and up a stairway. In a large upper room, a bed hung by chains and a tonsured man in a red tunic slid a bench back from under a rough plank table.

  His gold chains clanked as he stood and grabbed Hugh’s forearm. “So, you’re The Destroyer. I’ve been expecting you, sir. Well met, well met.”

  The bishop turned to Ali. “…And this must be your infidel.”

  “I’m he. And you would be?” Ali’s tone mimicked the bishop’s and his eyes narrowed.

  Hugh jumped in, shooting a quick glare at his friend. “Forgive his impertinence, m’lord. He’s still under my tutelage, learning the holy ways of Christ.”

  That seemed to smooth the ruffled feathers, so the bishop leaned back and read Edward’s missive.

  Finally, looking up with pursed his lips, he said, “I have hesitations. Housing a whole caravan of infidels? They may stay but only for a fortnight.”

  When Ali’s jaw ticked, Hugh thought it best to keep their visit even shorter. “Thank you, my lord. I only ask for one night. We would eat at your inn and mayhap trade a few goods. We also ran into a little trouble in the forest and would like to tend to our injured.”

  Gray brows lifted. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  Hugh paced keeping his face impassive, wondering where the man’s loyalties lay. “About a hundred bandits. We engaged and they ran off.”

  The bishop opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by an acolyte who poked his shaved head into the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lord, but Mother Abbess says it’s most urgent.”

  “Tell her she may enter.” Sighing, the bishop sat his large frame down in a throne-like chair, grabbed his crozier, and donned a huge red miter cap.

  There was something quite wrong about the old nun that entered. Hugh had oft times seen such soulless eyes and it never bode well. Ali, no doubt having the same thoughts, muttered under his breath.

  The ancient sneered at his commander, shot one look at Hugh, then kissed the bishop’s ring. “We have a problem, m’lord, and I believe these men might be able to help.”

  “Go on, my dear.” The bishop clasped his hands and put an index finger to his lips.

  At the well-rehearsed gesture, Hugh almost rolled his eyes and dared not look at Ali for fear of breaking into fits of mirth. Thankfully, the two in holy robes took no notice for Hugh’s caravan depended on the priory’s good will.

  The old nun pointed to the back of her wimple where blood clotted on her head. “One of our sisters was murdered in the church. And I, myself, was almost killed trying to protect her.”

  The bishop clunked his crozier on the floor, jumped up, and his cross clanked as it swung side to side. “Who would dare do such a thing?”

  “The healer, Mary Rose.” She eyed Hugh and Ali as if to read their minds but their faces remained blank.

  No wonder that little healer was so loath to return to Lanercost.

  While Hugh’s thoughts spun, the bishop’s face grew redder than the wool of his fine tunic. “Impossible. Rose has been with us since birth.”

  “You doubt me?” Old serpentine eyes narrowed under the nun’s soiled linen.

  Oh yes, thought Hugh. I doubt you very much. He glanced over at Ali who ticked one eyebrow ever so slightly in agreement.

  The bishop, however, seemed oblivious to the lies. “Bring Rose to me at once. I’ll see her burned at the stake. Hanged. Beheaded. Torn apart tied between two horses.”

  For Hugh’s ears only, Ali whispered, “Seems like one would suffice. The rest superfluous, no?”

  “Shut it.” Hugh tried not to grin as the evil abbess looked up and met his gaze.

  “What are you two mumbling about? Have you seen her?”

  “Seen whom, sister?” Hugh kept his face neutral but hers deepened to almost purple.

  “I’m looking for a lay-sister. A detestable, murdering rodent.”

  Ali cleared his throat and Hugh feared for what might come out, so quickly added, “We saw many Scots that attacked us. Was she one of them?”

  “No. Of course not. She wears the gray cloth of the Lanercost sisters.”

  “A murdering sister? What kind of an abbey do you run here?” Ali’s eyes darkened dangerously.

  “Foreign pig.” When the nun’s spit hit Ali’s leather, Hugh’s hand went for the hilt of his sword. No one insulted his commander.

  The bishop, sensing the abbess had gone too far, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. “Wait for me in the church. I’ll hear your confession, momentarily.”

  He came back in, shaking his head. “Forgive her impertinence, sir. She’s distraught over the murder of one of those little lambs put in her charge. Of course, you’re free to stay as my guests but you can see, it’s best to keep to yourselves.”

  Again, Ali started to open his mouth, Hugh cuffed him, then bent over and kissed the bishop’s ring. “My thanks, m’lord.”

  The bishop turned with his ring raised but Ali had already swiveled on a heel and left. He didn’t speak until outside in the practice field. “I don’t like the feel of this place one bit.”

  “Neither do I but don’t offend the bishop, Aliyar. He owns more land than God and has more influence. Make sure this Rose girl is hidden. Tell me where she stays. I need to question her.”

  “I can’t believe that sweet girl would murder anyone. It’s much more likely the ol
d witch did it.”

  “Aye, but whatever goes on here, it’s none of our concern. We’ll take food and shelter, then move on in the morning.”

  “Agreed.” Ali made a huge undertaking of brushing off his feet, leather armor, and tunic.

  When he finished, Hugh couldn’t help but ask. “What was all that?”

  “It’s to rid me of the dust of that witch.”

  Chapter 3

  Even though warm, Rose shivered and dared not breathe as she sank deeper into the pile of woven rugs. Outside Azzah’s tent, the priory’s knights had just arrived, searching for a murderer.

  Dear God. First the death of my dear Mother Abbess, then Cecilia, and now this. Have I sinned so much against ye, Lord, that ye despise me so?

  Oh, but Rose already knew the reason for the Almighty’s wrath. She was supposed to have taken her vows at fourteen but Mother had insisted she wait. For years, Rose had worked fiercely to prove herself worthy. She’d excelled in the healing arts, prayed for hours, learned many languages, and had made herself more deserving than any other.

  Pride? Well, that’s a sin she still struggled with.

  It wasn’t until right before Mother Abbess died that Rose finally understood why she was singled out as an unworthy bride of Christ.

  Kneeling beside the abbess’s death cot, Rose had let the last of the tallow candles burn low. It mattered not, for death was near.

  “Come closer, Mary Rose.” The old woman’s voice was unusually weak.

  Was not Mother Abbess the one who told Rose what to do, where to go, and how to conduct a good life?

  What will I do when she’s gone?

  “Prithee, don’t talk.” Rose put a cold, wet linen on the woman’s wrinkled brow and pulled off her wimple.

  Spikey gray hairs sprouted about her head, making for an odd halo. “Stop weeping, girl and listen. I’ve not much time and much to tell.”

  Mary Rose nodded and wiped her eyes while a knurled index finger pointed at the wall. “See that reddish brick behind my nightstand? Pull on it hard and it will come loose. Grab the package behind.”