Keeper of the Stone (34 page)

It was an instinct born of long years of scraping and fighting for every advantage he was able to accumulate over the course of his life that had him drawing his sword even as Father Bernard reached him.  None of his men prevented the elderly priest’s approach.  All harbored the same fear as their lord of the reason for the man’s unprecedented errand, his long cassocks flapping in the brisk wind, his thin, balding head without benefit of a hat or scarf to warm him.  But it wasn’t the priest’s lack of a winter cloak to ward off the chill breeze that caused conversations to still and a silence to fold heavily around the hill where Nathan was training his men. It was the dread of the depth of the evil news the old man was about to deliver to their lord.

“My lord.” The priest was still chasing his breath as he came to an abrupt halt before Nathan. He bowed his head slightly, whether out of respect for his position or to gain a little more time to gather himself before he delivered the news he must impart, Nathan could not be certain. 

The hand gripping the sword Nathan held at his side was tightly clenched around the hilt, a life-line to his cherished self-control as he willed himself to stay calm.  There was nothing left for him to do in this moment but fall back on his life-long obsession with self-discipline.  He failed to protect his wife and now he must face the consequences of his failure, the extent of which he would not know until Father Bernard revealed it to him. 

If his wife still lived, he would find her, and his heart would begin beating again.  If his wife was lost to him, he knew he would never be free of the regret that threatened to choke him, cutting off his ability to think and breathe.  His self-recriminations circled through his thoughts, stealing his focus. Why did he place a young soldier in charge of his wife’s safety?  Was she not his most precious treasure?  Was she not worthy of the guard of his most experienced men?  Had he not been warned by both his father and good friend to take care, that his enemies would attempt to weaken him by striking at his fondness for his wife?  Had not the dark ill breath of foreboding lain heavily on him these past weeks?

He gathered his scattered thoughts, unable to wait a moment longer for the priest to compose himself.  “Father?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.  Your wife has been taken from the sanctuary of God’s house.  Your soldier is injured.  One of the women who assists me with the children is seeing to his care.”

Nathan began breathing again. Relief surged through him.  Taken not dead.  Yet, anyway.  His failure was not complete.  There was still hope.  He clamped down on the renewed rage coursing through him.  He would hunt down and kill every last one of those responsible for this atrocity, but now Rhiann’s life was paramount. There was only one additional piece of information he needed from the old priest.  A name.  He would take care of the rest. 

“Who?”

Father Bernard shook his head regretfully.  “I wish I could tell you more. One of the young boys who are always trailing after your wife ran to me when he saw them strike your soldier. His name is Daniel.  He says a lady promised him a coin to bring Lady Rhiann back to the church.”

Nathan’s mind whirled.  A lady?  Was there no end to this treachery?  “Where is the boy now?”

“In the rectory.  One of the local women is staying with him.  I knew you would wish to speak with him right away.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Nathan did his best not to frighten any further the young boy who stood before him staring at his feet and recounting his tale in a hushed voice Nathan was forced to strain to hear.  “The lady promised me a coin if I could catch up with Lady Rhiann and bring her back to the church.  She said it was most urgent she speak to her.”

“What was the lady’s name?” Nathan suspected but he wanted to have his suspicions confirmed before he unleashed the full force of his rage against the woman he once believed would become his wife.

The boy shrugged. “I do not know, milord. She did not confide her name to me.”  Tears spilled down the boy’s cheeks as he lifted pleading eyes to Nathan’s.  “I am sorry, milord.  I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen to Lady Rhiann.  You will get her back, won’t you?  You will bring her home?”

“Yes, Daniel. I’ll bring her home. What did the lady look like who promised you the coin?” 

Nathan swallowed his disgust as the boy’s description confirmed his vile suspicions.  One thing at a time.  Right now Rhiann’s safety was paramount.  Then he would exact his revenge for this betrayal. “Did you see anything else?”

Daniel shook his head.  Tears streamed down his young face at his halting confession.  “They struck your soldier.  They saw me and I was afraid.  I ran away to get Father Bernard.  I let them take your lady.”

Nathan knelt down so he could look young Daniel in the eye.  “No, Daniel.  You did exactly the right thing.  There was nothing you could have done to help Lady Rhiann.  They would have taken or hurt you too and then we would not have known what happened to her.”

Nathan forced himself to reach for his pouch and fish two coins from it.  He pressed them into the hands of the stunned boy.  “I will find Lady Rhiann and bring her back.”                           

The boy nodded, smiling, his overwhelming relief evident on his young face.  Nathan wished his own fears could be so easily assuaged.  Even now the bile of his fear rose in his throat and he was forced to swallow the consequences of his failure.  He felt Archibald’s hand grip his shoulder.

“We’ll find her.”

Nathan stood and met his friend’s concerned glance. Both men understood the emptiness of Archibald’s reassurance, but Nathan nodded, grateful for his friend’s support.  Nathan had no doubt they would find his wife, if for no other reason than because he would not rest until they did.  But would they find Rhiann and the child she carried alive?  Unhurt? 

Until he had his wife back safely his vengeance would have to wait.  He drew a deep breath to clear his thoughts of the vile mixture of terror and his plans for the vengeance he would exact swirling through them and forced himself to contemplate his next move.  He did not trust himself to be alone with his former almost-betrothed in his current condition.  Archibald understood that without being told.

“Let us go pay a visit to Lady Sara.”

When they exited the church, Nathan noted the wind was picking up and there was a dampness to the air intimating an icy wet mixture would impede their search.  Nathan’s only thought was whether Rhiann was warm enough.  Was she even still alive?  Who was responsible for this blasphemy? Archibald’s grip on his shoulder shook him back to the present.  Rhiann’s safety was the only thing that mattered now.  He would have to get his fury under control before he faced his former betrothed, else he would not allow her to live long enough to give them the information they needed to find Rhiann. They took off in the direction of his father’s tents.  He imagined Sara would take refuge there, thinking his father would or could somehow shield her from the repercussions of her despicable deed. 

Halfway up the rise where his father’s tents were set up, Nathan was distracted by the sound of a horse’s neighing in the distance.  His heart-beat kicked up a notch.  He looked towards the sound and saw his wife’s stallion at the top of the rise, pawing the ground insistently, as if in a hurry to begin a journey. 

“Arden,” Nathan released the name in a quiet whisper.  Feeling hope stir in his breast for the first time since news of his wife’s abduction was delivered to him, he turned to Archibald and threw his commands over his shoulder as he set off at a run towards the stables where his own horse was tethered. “Gather the men.  Arden will lead us to Rhiann.”

              “Baron…”

              But Nathan was already half-way to the stables and he failed to respond to his friend’s cautious counsel, whether because he was already so far ahead of him he never heard it or because he heard it but it did not sway him, Archibald was left alone to wonder about.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Nathan motioned to his men to hold in place.  They surrounded the campsite where Rhiann was being held by a man he vaguely recognized among the recent arrivals to the city, but he could not name and could not imagine what he wanted with his wife. Nathan assumed after he recovered from the sickening shock of learning his wife was kidnapped that he was the target. Now as he listened to her abductor question his wife, he knew his presumption was mistaken, as so much of his assumptions surrounding his wife had been to date.  This wasn’t about him at all.  It was about Rhiann and somehow involved the mysterious stone her mother passed to her at her own death. He brushed aside his instinctive fury at the thought the danger his wife now faced revolved around superstitions surrounding a stupid hunk of rock and returned his focus to the moment.  His next move would either save or cost his wife her foolish life.  He would not allow the latter.  If anyone was going to kill her, it was going to be him for putting herself in this precarious position by refusing to trust her husband enough to confide her secrets to him.

His eyes now took in every position of the men who held his wife.  In an instant he noted the weapon within each man’s reach, surveyed their carelessness, and knew they assumed the dead scout they placed not far away to keep watch would give them sufficient warning of any breach of their perimeter. Nathan’s breath was smooth and unbroken.  There was no panic in his mind.  Panic would only get his wife killed.  It wasn’t the heat of passion running through his blood now when he gazed at his wife’s vulnerable position, her back to the fire, facing the man who questioned her, emphasizing the hopelessness of her position with the sharp blade he taunted her with. 

No, even the sight of his wife in danger failed to warm the ice running through his veins.  He was a warrior by training and trade and any warrior who survived the number of campaigns he engaged in understood hot blooded passion got you and your men killed.  Ice slowed down the hot flood of bloodlust in the heat of battle and allowed for a much sharper weapon to do its work.  His mind.  His understanding of how to defeat his opponent.  A calculation of the odds of success, where to strike first, where the enemy’s vulnerabilities lay, who needed to die first, how the task would be accomplished and by who, then onto the consideration of who would die next, always his wife’s safety paramount to any strategy. 

So he stood unseen in the shadows and in the silence watched the dead man taunt his wife.  His eyes took in the empty leather sheath strapped to her arm, noting they stole her grandmother’s precious dagger from her.  He would see to it his wife’s property was returned and the leather sheath would not remain empty much longer.  He was impressed by his wife’s pride and defiance as she faced her kidnappers. She answered the man’s questions with her own taunts, egging him on, laughing at his foolishness, intent on making him lose his temper.  While he understood her tactics, he blanched at the risk she seemed intent on taking.

Rhiann had no way of knowing he was there, close enough to rescue her.  He recognized she was going to take her own chance of escaping.  He needed to be ready, not only for any opportunity she presented, but also to kill anyone close enough when she made her move, particularly the man wielding the sword in front of her.  He would be the first to die.

“You will show me Lady Rhiann how to access the stone’s power.”

“You are a fool to believe such tales. The stone holds no power and even if it did, I would not know how to access it.  The stone was never meant to come to me.  I do not know its secrets, though I sincerely doubt there are any to know.”

“You lie!”

Rhiann rolled her eyes in a mocking gesture.  The action and implied disrespect accompanying it sent her abductor into a fresh rage.  He backhanded Rhiann to the ground, but made no move to use the sword in his hand.  Nathan thought he understood his enemy’s hesitation.  He needed Rhiann alive. Without its keeper, the stone was useless. 

Nathan gripped the heavy blade in his hand and raised it over his head in a signal to his men.  Rhiann lay unmoving on the ground.  He hoped she was unconscious.  He did not want her to witness what he became when he unleashed the rage now fighting against the restraint of the iron band of his will.

His wife stirred.  Her attacker stood over her breathing heavily, his face red with fury over his captive’s mockery.  Nathan waited to give the signal to attack.  As soon as he realized what was happening the man standing over her would kill Rhiann.  Nathan had no intention of allowing that to happen, but he wanted the man distracted and not standing so close to his wife when he gave the order to engage the enemy.

What happened next so astonished him, Nathan could not believe the evidence of his own eyes. Rhiann stirred again, moaning as she regained consciousness.  Then in a single, blurred motion she leapt off the ground and buried her grandmother’s missing dagger directly into the heart of her attacker. If Nathan had not just witnessed his wife’s deadly precision, he would never believe she was capable of such impressive ruthlessness. Rhiann moved so quickly he didn’t think even the most expert among his men could have executed her move as smoothly or with such deadly skill.  A point of fact, he was uncertain whether or not he could have moved quickly enough to defend against her assault if it had been aimed in his direction.

His wife’s abductor was dead before his body crumpled to the ground.  Fortunately Nathan’s astonishment at his wife’s deadly prowess did not lessen his battle instincts.  He was instantly aware of the movement at his wife’s back.  One of her kidnappers, apparently determined to gain vengeance on his leader’s behalf, raised his sword at Rhiann’s defenseless back.  Nathan gave him his due for his loyalty.  At the same time he threw the sword he held in his icy grip with a strength and a precision he knew at least none of his men could match.  His wife, though unable to match his physical strength, might prove his equal in instinct as even now she sensed the threat behind her and turned swiftly to confront it.