A Perfect Knight. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
and the Lady Alayne by fair means or foul—but I am at fault, for I did not realise this was his plan, to disable you first.’
‘Pray tell me more!’ de Froissart glared at him. ‘Do you say this was a plot to stop me taking part in the tourney?’
‘I believe it may have been,’ Ralph replied. ‘It was to warn you of a possible plot against you that I followed you when you left the Lady Alayne a few minutes ago. I believe someone is desperate to win her and her fortune and will do whatever he thinks necessary to stop any rival from carrying her off as his bride.’
‘What knave has done this? I’ll spit him like the swine he is!’ de Froissart cried and then half-fell as the pain in his arm almost overcame him. ‘At least, I shall when I am myself again.’
‘I know not his name. I heard only a few whispers last night in the gardens.’ Ralph smiled at his frustration. ‘At first I did not realise what they meant and then it was too late to discover the identity of the plotters. I can promise you the time will come when you may repay this debt,’ he said, ‘but not soon enough for you to win the tourney.’
‘But that was his purpose!’ de Froissart said and winced as he tried to move his arm. ‘If I do not take part, some other fool will win the chance to court her—possibly Baron de Bracey’s son Renaldo. I know his father covets her lands and he covets her. Between them they are the veriest rogues, the son worse than the father. This is the kind of thing they would plot between them!’
‘There were two of them,’ Ralph agreed. ‘One seemed to hesitate while the other ordered. It may be that you are right and it was de Bracey and his son. I do not think I know them, but you will have your squire point them out to me and I shall keep an eye on them.’
‘But you must do more than that,’ de Froissart said and halted his slow, painful walk to fix him with a fierce stare. ‘You must enter the lists and defeat de Bracey. If he wins, Alayne must let him be her champion for at least a few hours and I do not trust that scurvy knave. He will find some way to take advantage of her.’
‘I believe you care for the lady?’
‘Damn your eyes! What business is it of yours?’ de Froissart growled. ‘If you must know, I would marry her if she would have me—but that father of hers soured her for marriage. She was forced to take a man near old enough to be her grandfather and I believe he treated her badly, though she will never speak of it to anyone. The Queen whispered to me that she was most unhappy in her marriage and would not easily trust another man, and so I have been gentle in my courtship of her. I cannot tell whether she loves me in return—but I would do whatever she asked of me.’
‘You would protect her,’ Ralph agreed, ‘and she is in sore need of protection. We must do something to make certain that de Bracey’s son cannot win the right to court her. Is there no one apart from me who would fight in your stead?’
De Froissart’s eyes narrowed in reply. ‘I have heard that you are a worthy fighter, de Banewulf. Fight as my champion and protect the lady from those rogues, for my arm will not be stout enough to do it myself.’
‘It is a while since I entered the lists,’ Ralph replied reluctantly. He had no love of the tourney—too many men were injured in what was a vain cause and he fought only in a just one. ‘I train as always, for I believe it keeps the body well and the mind alert—but I have no heart for fighting. The last time I fought I killed a man who was my friend. I fought in anger and vowed I would not fight other than for my King and country again.’
‘We have all done things we would rather forget,’ de Froissart said, his interest caught by Ralph’s unthinking confession. ‘Did you intend to kill him?’
‘No. He was trying to tell me something I did not wish to hear,’ Ralph said. ‘I grew angry and we fought. I knocked him to the ground and he struck his head against a metal anvil—we were in the stable-yard near the blacksmith’s forge—and his skull cracked open. We did all we could to save him, but it was hopeless. Later, as he lay dying, he told me that he had lied to make me angry to bring me out of my grief, and then he smiled at me before he died.’
‘What was the lie that made you so angry?’
‘He told me that the child that led to my wife’s death was not mine but his.’ Ralph’s face was dark with sorrow. ‘But he lied and I knew that he lied. My anger was as much for myself as for him. I killed her by my unkindness and I killed him in my anger. For a time I considered taking up the Cross as my penance, but I knew that I was not worthy. God’s knight must be worthy of the honour to bear his symbol.’
‘I know what you mean,’ de Froissart said, nodding. ‘I too have killed in anger and that is why I will not take up the Cross again—but you wrong yourself, de Banewulf. You did only what other men have done before you and your sin is not so great as many.’
‘Yet I cannot forgive myself.’
‘Then make this tourney your penance.’ de Froissart threw the challenge at him. ‘If you feel you owe your friend and your wife a debt, take up the sword in their names as well as mine. For if you do not, I fear for the Lady Alayne’s safety.’
Ralph stared at him in silence for a long moment, and then inclined his head. It meant that he must break a sacred vow, but he would speak to the priest and ask for a penance to set him free.
‘I shall do as you ask, but I cannot promise that I shall be victorious. I have trained with my men as I told you, but I have not fought to win since the day I killed Christian Payton.’
‘Have the surgeon patch me up and I shall watch you train,’ de Froissart told him. ‘Then we shall see what we shall see…’
‘You should be in your bed, my friend.’
‘I am no weakling,’ de Froissart growled and stifled a moan of pain. ‘Let me only have my arm bound and give me a glass of good strong wine and I will watch you fight. Aye, and cheer the loudest of them all when you beat those knaves!’
Ralph smiled, realising that he had begun to like the man despite himself. ‘I bow to your judgement and pray that I may do your faith in me justice.’
Alayne listened to the gossip circulating that evening. The courtiers could talk of nothing but the attack on Baron de Froissart. Most cried shame that such a thing could have happened, for it was whispered by all that whoever was behind the attack had hoped to take unfair advantage by making it impossible for de Froissart to participate in the tourney.
‘It was wicked knavery,’ Marguerite said to Alayne. ‘Who would do such a terrible thing?’
‘I do not know.’ Alayne frowned. She was feeling chilled as she had on the day of the hunt, when the tourney was first suggested.
The Queen frowned over what had happened and spoke of cancelling the tournament, but the courtiers begged her not to spoil their fun, and when de Froissart put in a belated appearance at supper that evening he added his pleas to the others.
‘I beg your Grace will not cancel the tourney,’ he said in a loud voice so that all might hear him. ‘For whoever has done this thing will be thwarted by my champion if he thinks to win by foul means.’
‘Your champion?’ Everyone was agog to know who he meant and whispered one to the other as they tried to name the knight who would fight in de Froissart’s name. ‘But who will you choose? Is he a stranger to court?’
‘He has been here but a few days,’ de Froissart said and smiled at Ralph, who stood just behind him. He was in great pain, for he had drunk only wine and refused the healing potion the surgeon had given him, saying that he would not sleep until he was certain that honour had been satisfied. ‘I speak of Sir Ralph de Banewulf…’ Hearing the murmurs of surprise, he held up his uninjured arm for silence. ‘Sir Ralph saved my life, for I foolishly went unarmed too near the forest and was attacked by those foul brigands. Had he not arrived in time, I fear I might be dead—but as you see, I am not.’
Alayne’s