Page 1 of A Knight To Call My Own
Chapter One
Berwyck Castle
Spring, the Year of Our Lord’s Grace 1180
Beauty’s thundering hoof beats resounded, as the horse galloped across the strand, and left no doubt as to the urgency of her rider. Clumps of wet sand marked Lynet’s passage and gave evidence to just how far she had traveled. The distant voice of her guardsman calling her name was all but lost between the powerful roar of the ocean waves crashing into the shore and the dissonant emotions that filled her mind, causing tears to flow freely down her cheeks.
Transferring the reins of her mount to one hand, Lynet wiped the moisture from her eyes to clear her vision. Gasping for air, she tried to calm her racing heart, but ’twas to no avail. Heart-broken, she had saddled her horse and had left the safety of the castle walls hoping against hope her frantic flight would offer some form of solace to settle around her very soul. But ’twas of no use. Nothing would cure this pain of lost love. She would need to reach deep down inside herself in order to find a way to move on.
Tugging on the reins, she brought Beauty to a sudden halt then slid from the saddle to the soft sand beneath her feet. The horse was well trained and stood where she had left her whilst Lynet walked a short distance towards the ocean’s edge. Any energy she still may have had left her in an unexpected rush of defeat as her knees buckled beneath her, and she fell to the beach in a heap of despair, her outstretched arms and opened palms braced against the ground to keep her balance. Lynet’s chest heaved whilst she tried to fill her lungs with breath.
After a moment, and in an attempt to gain what little composure she had left within her, she shook the sand off her gloves, only to discard them, afore she plopped herself down to sit in a very unladylike manner. Having lost her wimple somewhere along the way on her hectic flight, she pushed her long blonde tresses away from her face.
Her fingers trembled as she reached inside her cape and pulled out the parchment she had crumpled into a ball. She smoothed it out as best as she could, knowing he had written the words himself and had spent good coin to ensure she received his missive. Afore she had read the letter the first time, she had held such hope the words he had written her would be the ones that she had long awaited. Alas, this too was a bitter disappointment she should have expected after all these years with nary a word from him. His long absence, and now this unambiguous message, confirmed her worst fears. All had tried to warn her, but she had wanted so much for him to realize on his own that he could come to care for her. ’Twas not to be.
She knew she should not read his words again, but she scanned them all the same, wanting desperately to believe there was some hidden meaning she might have overlooked. Unfortunately, for her peace of mind, they did not change. Fresh tears fell from blue eyes that rivaled the clear sky above her whilst she pondered these far too few words afore her blurry vision.
Lynet,
I have but recently learned you continue to hold out hope that I would one day come for you. Alas, ’twill not be so. As I told you years afore, I have nothing to offer a fair lady such as you.
I beg of you, sweet lass, to find yourself a bonny lad to call your husband and live a happy life. ’Tis my fondest wish to know that you live a life filled with the love of a good man, whomever such a man shall be.
Your Servant,
Ian
Lynet sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. Taking a deep breath, she carefully folded the document and placed it back inside her cape. If she were smart, she would toss the parchment into the ocean waves and never think on Ian’s words again. But she could not force herself to even consider such an act, knowing this would be the last bit of remembrance she would have of the man she loved all her young life.
Rubbing her eyes, she resolved her heart to forget her youthful infatuation with a knight who clearly did not love her.Love!Mayhap, ’twas just a foolish girl’s hope that her love would be returned. A woman full grown would have resigned herself, years ago, to make a match with an acceptable suitor and leave the thought of love to the bards who weave such nonsense.
She stood with a new resolve, firmly in place, to harden her heart so she might never be hurt again. She was, after all, a score of years and should have been wed ere now with bairns about her within her own hall. ’Twas not as if her sister’s husband had not brought the finest men afore her both from England and Scotland. She gave a weary sigh, knowing ’twas far past time she put away her fanciful thoughts of chivalry and a man who would love her for herself, not her wealth. Marriage was one of convenience to bring further lands and monies into one’s possession. She would no longer leave any place in her heart for love! Surely ’twould be a waste of time to believe in such drivel. Love and marriage did not go together. ’Twould be best to forget such fanciful notions of actually loving the man she was to marry.
Placing her hood about her head, she turned to Beauty and realized how foolish she had been to travel unaccompanied as far as she had. Berwyck Castle rose high above a cliff far off in the distance, and ’twould take some time to return to the safety within its boundaries.
She had just put her foot into the stirrup, when she glanced up at the sound of another horse galloping in her direction. Swinging her leg over the saddle, she quickly adjusted her gown and cape to reach the dirk she kept hidden at her side. She was about to kick her mare into motion to ensure her escape, when she recognized the rider and heard, with relief, the sound of her name carried on the wind.
Her guardsman came abreast of her with a look of disapproval upon his face. ’Twas clear the man was not pleased at her actions this day.
“You will be the death of me, my lady, if you so much as ever think on leaving Berwyck again without a proper escort,” the man berated her.
She solemnly gazed upon the guard afore her. He was a handsome man of a score and ten with dark black hair and eyes the color of an aquamarine sea. Having been appointed captain of her guard when she was at the young age of ten and four, the knight beside her had spent many an hour following her about to ensure she remained safe and out of mischief. She hoped he would understand her vexed mood. “I seek your pardon, Rolf, but I needed some time unto myself.”
“Bah! There are plenty of places you could have found such solace within the safety of the keep and castle walls!” he complained bitterly. “Think you our Lord Dristan shall forgive me so hastily that I let a mere girl of such tender years escape my notice?”
“I shall speak to my sister’s husband on your behalf. ’Twas hardly your fault I left the keep as I did and in such a hurry,” Lynet returned with a toss of her head.
Rolf rolled his eyes at her words. “By God’s Bones, ’twill only make it worse, my lady! I am already destined to be in the lists ’til the midnight hour for such a lack of duty. You, of all people, know the repercussions of failure under Lord Dristan’s watch.”
“Aye, Rolf, I know, and again, I must needs seek your pardon,” Lynet exclaimed. “I will still endeavor to make all aright with our liege lord.”
“Then let us away, and make haste. My fate is already sealed one way or the other.”
Lynet bowed her head, since there was no sense in furthering the argument between them. “Lead the way, Rolf. You shall have no more trouble from me this day.”
He gave her a look of pure skepticism. “That, Lady Lynet, remains to be seen.”
They quickly traveled the beach, retracing the path upon which Lynet had recently fled. Her captain remained watchful from years of training to be leery of the unexpected ambush. She supposed ’twas foolish to leave the grounds of Berwyck unattended as she had. If she had been captured, the price of her ransom would indeed be high, for most knew of her worth, be she wed or not. Her dowry was quite substantial, even if she were not under the protection of the Devil’s Dragon of Berwyck. Most would not so much as dare take something, much less someone, under his care, and yet, there were most certainly always the foolish at heart who would not think twice in doing so, if ’twould fill their coffers with the riches she would bring.
