Connie Mason Read Online Free Page B

elicited painful memories that yearsof war and competing in tournaments to earn his livelihood had failed to diminish. He had not known until he arrived that the tourney was part of the festivities celebrating the marriage of Raven of Chirk and Earl Waldo of Eyre, his half brother. Only the reportedly large purse Duff offered to the winner had drawn him back to Chirk, where memories of his lost love still pulled at the place where his heart once dwelled.
    Raven of Chirk.
    He hated her still, after all these years. Her betrayal had made him what he was today. He had changed overnight from a chivalrous youth who dreamed of becoming a knight and protecting his lady’s honor to a hardened knight who had earned his reputation with his sword. After he had been banished from Chirk, the king must have seen promise in him, for he took Drake into his service as a squire. Drake’s selfless act of bravery on behalf of the Black Prince had been incredibly foolish but well worth the reward.
    Shortly after being knighted he had followed the prince’s example and donned black armor. Thus the Black Knight came into existence. It was a far better name than Drake No Name, or Sir Bastard.
    As the fighting in France grew increasingly fierce, the Black Knight distinguished himself time and again on the battlefield. Incredibly, he had saved the prince’s life a second time and had been given an earldom. Windhurst and its extensive lands were his to claim. After the victory at Crécy, the Black Knight returned to England and earned further glory competing in tourneys and handily defeating every opponent pitted against him. He had earned wealth and prestige, but he intended the tourney at Chirk to be his last. With the promised purse, he would have enough money to restore and defend Windhurst.
    Had Drake known that encountering Raven after all these years would arouse feelings he thought he had banishedyears ago, he would not have come. He knew Daria was dead. He had heard about her death shortly after it occurred and it had been a terrible blow. The life of a tender rose had been plucked before it had reached full bloom. Had not Raven betrayed him, Drake liked to believe that he and Daria would be happily married now, and that she would be alive today. He could not help thinking, though there was no tangible proof, that Waldo had somehow hastened Daria’s death.
    Something had died within Drake the day he learned of his beloved’s death. Ambition had replaced unrequited love. Earning wealth and glory had become the code by which he lived. Ruthlessness and arrogance were his to claim. Where once he cherished womanhood, he now saw women as vessels of pleasure put on earth to ease men’s lust. But one thing had not changed: his consuming hatred for Waldo of Eyre and Raven of Chirk.
    The Black Knight tore his thoughts away from the past to greet Sir Melvin, Chirk’s steward.
    “Good morrow, sir. I am Sir Melvin, Lord Duff’s steward. Welcome to Castle Chirk.”
    The Black Knight acknowledged Sir Melvin with a nod and waited for him to continue.
    “The knights who have come to compete in the tournaments are camped beyond the walls with their servants and men-at-arms. Tents have been provided for your use and all are invited to dine in the great hall. Does that meet with your approval, my lord?”
    “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. My men and I will most happily share your table.”
    Formalities dispensed with, Sir Melvin turned away to greet another group of knights who had just entered the bailey. After the steward left, a knight in Drake’s service rode up to join him. Sir John of Marlow pushed back his visor andlooked at Drake askance. “Are we to set up camp beyond the gates, Drake?”
    “Aye, John. Tents are being provided for us. Choose a likely site beside water, if possible. I will join you and the men directly. There is something I must do first.”
    A worried frown marred Sir John’s handsome young features. “I know