Katherine felt a quiver of alarm.
She had known that even the most trustworthy of men might be tempted by her treasure. Perhaps not for greed, but for the glory that such a find could bring them.
“I have not told you what it is, sir,” she reminded him. “It may be that my father was mistaken….”
Alain’s eyes were steady on her face, but held warmth, a concern that made her heart race. For a moment she thought that his feelings toward her were more than mere courtesy. “If I gave you my solemn word that I will return them to you when we reach England, would you trust me?”
Katherine hesitated, and then nodded. Instinct told her that if she could not trust this man, then she could trust no one. Hesitating but a moment more, she picked up the pouch and handed it to Alain.
“I believe there is enough here to give credence to my father’s discovery, but you may study these and give me your opinion.”
“I thank you for your trust in me, Katherine,” Alain said, then reached out to touch her cheek. It was the merest graze of his fingers but it sent tremors running through her….
Dear Reader,
To become a true knight a youth must strive to attain perfection in all things. He must be able to read the Scriptures in Latin, must know all the rules of chivalry and be as skilled in matters of physical excellence as in those of the mind. It is a hard, rigorous training.
Alain de Banewulf was luckier than most boys, for his mother begged that he should receive training at his father’s hands rather than be sent away. But Alain has always felt that he cannot be a true knight, as his magnificent half-brother Stefan is, because his life has been easy. Adding to this feeling of inadequacy, he believes his prowess is due to a sword with magical powers that was given to him by his brother when he went to the Crusades. Now he is returning home, covered in glory, but still not satisfied that he deserves his reputation as a fearless knight. It is only when he rescues the thin child Katherine and swears to protect her, gradually coming to understand that she is actually a warm and loving woman, that he is given the chance to prove himself in every way.
I hope that you enjoy this last book in the series, which gives a hint of the spiritual nature of the age as well as the exciting physical action of kidnap, fierce fighting and love.
As always, I love to hear what you think. Visit me at www.lindasole.co.uk.
Love to you all
Her Knight Protector
Anne Herries
ANNE HERRIES,
winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize 2004, lives in Cambridgeshire, England. She is fond of watching wildlife, and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Afterword
Chapter One
‘W hat will the bards sing of us?’ Sir Alain de Banewulf asked of his friend as they drew rein to contemplate the vista before them, which was one of sun-baked hills and lush valleys. It was some months now since they had left the arid heat of the Holy Land, joining forces to make their journey back to England. ‘Will men say of us that we are sad failures or praise us for the taking of Acre?’
Sir Bryne of Wickham looked at him, narrowing his gaze against the sun, wondering at the strange, bleak expression in the younger man’s eyes. Alain had been quiet for some days, and now perhaps he was ready to speak of what ailed him.
‘You are still angry that we failed to take Jerusalem from the infidel?’
Alain was silent for a moment, his thoughts mixed as he tried to explain to the man who was so close to him that they had lived as brothers these past few years. Defending, guarding each other’s back, they had risked their lives for one another. Bryne was his most trusted friend and yet even to him he could not explain the emptiness inside him.
‘When King Richard quarrelled with Philip of France and he deserted us, Richard had no choice but to make that treaty with Saladin. We as Christians may thank him that the Holy City is not closed to all those of our faith. Had Richard fought on, all might have been lost.’
‘Yet there is no denying that the influence of Christianity hath been much weakened.’
‘So we failed,’ Alain said and felt the weight of defeat fall on him as a mantle of chain-mail. ‘May God and history forgive us.’
‘Failed?’ Bryne raised his brows. Many men would have been more than satisfied with their accomplishments if they had done as well.
Alain and Bryne had gained personal wealth after the victory at Acre, much of it presented to them for saving the life of the son of a merchant prince. Ali Bakhar’s gratitude at having the boy returned to him unharmed had been in the form of priceless jewels, articles fashioned of gold, precious silks and spices. But even more important was the permission to trade freely in the waters between Venice and Cyprus. With that gained they had what many merchant adventurers before them had died for the lack of: the secret of true success in these parts.
Bryne had advised prudence and they had had their fortune transported to Italy, where one of the influential banking families had taken charge of it for them. Bryne had previously arranged that any prize money they won while on crusade was to be invested in his friend’s shipping fleet on their behalf.
When King Richard had decided to leave the Holy Land, Bryne and Alain had sailed with him for Cyprus. From there they had gone on to Messina and thence to Rome. Here they discovered that they were both wealthy beyond their dreams, for Bryne’s trusted friend had invested wisely and their fortunes had increased a hundredfold in the intervening years. They had left their gold in his charge and carried only enough silver for their journey together with the letters of credit that would buy them whatever they desired, either in France or England.
‘Some may believe we failed,’ Bryne agreed after a few moments of consideration, for he knew that Alain had no thought of their personal triumphs. ‘Had Richard curbed his temper, mayhap history would have had kinder words.’
Alain smiled oddly, shrugging off his mood. ‘We fought bravely, but the odds were against us.’
‘And now what, my friend?’ Bryne’s brows rose.
They had lingered some months in Italy, taking time to see the wonders of the country, visiting the great university and medical school at Salerno. They took care to stay clear of Calabria, where King Richard had unjustly seized a beautiful falcon on his journey to the crusades, causing much anger amongst the villagers who had owned