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Authors: The Promise Keeper

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Chapter Twenty Eight

 

Michel sought out his wife after passing his sleeping twins into the care of a waiting servant.  He entered the bedroom where Elena still slept and stripped out of his clothes as he crossed to the bed. He slid naked beneath the sheets and pulled his wife’s softness against him.  Sighing with contentment, he closed his eyes, falling quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.  For the first time since he was rescued from his intended tomb, the shadows left him alone.

Long hours later, when the light of dawn pierced the opening of the window covering, Elena stirred against him and her voice drowsily called his name.

“Michel?”

Michel squeezed her close in response.  “”Yes, love?”

“Have you seen them?  Aren’t they beautiful?” She asked, then anxiety clouded her gaze and she repeated, “Love?”

Michel smiled.  “Yes, Elena, I have seen our son and daughter and they are indeed beautiful.  And, yes, Elena, my love, did you doubt my pledge to you?”

“I thought maybe you had forgotten, or that I had dreamt it.” She confessed warily.

Michel grinned, “No, my beloved, I have not forgotten my love for you.” He bent to kiss her soft lips at the relieved happiness in her expression at his confirmation. Then he raised his head and said, “And I have finally remembered the important news I was so anxious to convey to you when I was brought back to the surface.”

“What is it?” Elena lifted her head from his chest to peer into his face.

Smiling, Michel settled her back against his chest and began, “I wish to tell you a story about the daughter of the moon and the heart of the son…” When she quickly raised her head and opened her lips to question him, Michel shook his head and pushed her head back against his heart and continued with his tale.  “A long, long time ago when gods walked the earth…”

Chapter Twenty Nine

 

A few weeks into his new life, Michel was once again awakened in the dead of night by a soft knock on his door.  He slid from his bed and dressed quickly, retrieving his sword out of force of habit, though he had no real expectation of needing it for the meeting he was heading to.

He turned at the door to look back on his sleeping wife and their babes who slept nearby so they would be close at hand when they woke hungry and seeking nourishment from his wife’s fuller breasts.  Smiling with contentment, Michel pulled open the door and passed into the hall, hoping his babes would not wake before he returned.  He enjoyed the intimate moments spent with his wife and babe’s when they woke in the night and Elena put their tiny mouths to her breasts to nurse.

Amele waited for him in the hall.  “Melos has returned.  They’re waiting for us where we camped in the mountains.”

“She will not enter the city?” Michel asked softly, as the two men strode quickly down the hall.

“No, my king.  Forgive me for saying so, but your grandmother is an incredibly stubborn woman.”

Michel laughed.  “You would know that better than anyone, my friend.”

“Indeed,” Amele’s agreement was heartfelt and long-suffering.

 

The Salusian party waited for them in the same clearing where Michel first looked down upon the capital city of the land he now ruled.  His grandmother separated herself from her escort and the former queen of Calei met the current king at the edge of the line of trees near the stream where Michel misplaced her precious inheritance. Before any words were spoken between them, the two exchanged a fierce embrace. Then pulling apart they regarded each other with direct, discerning glances.

“You are well?” Michel felt compelled to ask, though he could see his question was unnecessary.  The long years since she escaped the grasp of her husband’s murderers rested lightly on her beautiful face.

“Yes, my Michel, I am well, as always.”

“My sisters?”

“Very well.  You are an uncle twice over.  Melissa gave her husband a beautiful daughter they named Michel, and Rhiann was delivered of the healthy son and heir Nathan so desperately longed for.  They named him Ruark after your older brother.  And you, I think, have important news to share with your grandmother?”

Michel’s lips curved in a contented smile.  He harbored little doubt his grandmother did not need him to deliver his important news for her to be aware of its contents, but he played along.  “Yes, I am a father to twins, a boy and a girl.  My son is Amele Nathaniel and my daughter, Melissa.”

“Twins?  If there is justice in this world they will lead you a merry chase. I trust I may presume their mother is now your wife?”

Michel laughed.  “Yes, Elena was my predecessor’s niece and I believe another daughter of the moon.”

“So you lifted the curse.  I suspected you would.”

“You knew?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t tell me?”

“I considered doing so, but in the end I decided it would likely do more harm than good.  The heart does not bow to the will of the mind and often resents its interference in matters beyond the will’s understanding.”

Michel considered her explanation. “You didn’t love him.”

Alyssa shrugged delicately.   “I didn’t not love him.  Nathaniel was a good man.  In time it’s very possible I would have grown to love him, but no, I didn’t love your grandfather when we were married, and he was taken from me before I could learn to do so.”

Michel removed the Salusian stone from around his neck and placed it around hers.  The stone glowed with the soft white light of a full moon.  “The daughter of the moon.”

“Yes.”

Chapter Thirty

 

“Well, my queen, in what direction do we head now?” Amele asked the woman he had loved since he was a young man.  They stood alone looking over the gleaming city from a clearing in the old forest.  The spot was not far from the one where they separated from his brother, Gabriel, decades earlier, when they were fleeing a traitorous assassin.

“I am no longer a queen, Amele,” Alyssa corrected him with a smile.

“Ah, there you are wrong.  You will always be my queen.  I ask again in what direction do we go when we leave Calei.”

Alyssa raised her head to meet his serious glance.  “You would leave your home?”

“You have been my home for forty years, my queen.  I have fulfilled my promise to you to watch over your grandson and to restore your husband’s blood to the throne that was taken from him by a traitor’s blade.  Michel no longer needs my guidance.  He is destined to restore Calei to its ancient glory.”

Alyssa smiled and replied, “And his son, King Amele, will follow in his stead.”  Her smile deepened at Amele’s reaction to her teasing.  Then she sighed and asked, “You would truly leave Calei again so soon after you’ve just returned home.  What of your brother, Gabriel?  You have just been reunited with your family.”

Amele shook his head.  “Gabriel knows where my heart lies, my queen.  Tell me, where is your leading you now?”

Alyssa leaned forward into the strength of his arms.  They closed securely around her.  “My heart longs for my home, Amele.  I am weary of this wanderer’s life.  I wish to close my eyes at night beneath the light of the moon shining on the home of my childhood.  Will you accompany me, my friend and my one love?”

“Always, my queen.”

 

                                                                     

Chapter Thirty One

 

A month after the birth of his twins, Michel stood looking out on his kingdom from his high perch on the tower peak where the mountains shimmered softly beneath the light of a full moon.

“Thank you, my son.”

Stunned at the address he thought he heard, especially considering his own mother was dead and his grandmother had left the mountains surrounding Calei not long after her arrival. The former queen lingered long enough to be introduced to his wife and her great-grandchildren before slipping away as quietly as she had arrived.  Michel swung around but discovered no one had disturbed his sanctuary.  Smiling, he decided Barnabas had good reason for his amusement when Michel accused him of succumbing to the mystical nature of his kingdom. 

Recognizing the encounter he was about to embark on would prove yet again his own arrogance in his swift and mocking judgment of his predecessor’ susceptibility, Michel sighed deeply and nodded his heading in silent acknowledgment of his departed friend. Then he replied in answer to his unseen guest, “You are not my mother.”

“No, I left this world too soon to be blest with the gift of children,”
the feminine voice replied.

The truth struck him with brutal intensity. “You’re the king’s daughter…the one who cursed my ancestor’s blood.”

“Yes.”

“Then, why do you thank me?  I have rendered you no service worthy of your gratitude.”

“Ah, but you have, my young king.  You have freed me from the consequences of my own foolishness.”

The confession was accompanied by a wistful sigh and confused, Michel confessed, “I don’t understand.”

“I used the power bestowed on me to curse your ancestor, thus binding me in death more securely to him than a lifetime spent subject to his foul will.  I am now free to begin living again…to try to find my way back to the light I once knew.”

“I am sorry for what my ancestor cost you.  Is there any way I can repay my blood’s debt to you?”

“You already have, Michel. Remember it is not only your grandfather’s blood that runs through you, but your grandmother’s as well.  You are one of us, you and blood of your blood. May you and yours be blest and not repeat the same mistake I made and suffer the consequences of falling away from all I was in a moment of grief and anger.”

Michel was reminded of the shadows he contested against and his driving urge for vengeance against his grandfather’s murderer.  For some reason he also recalled of his debt to his friend, Death.  “Is it a long way back?”  He wondered in a soft voice.

“Yes, my son, but love is ever the companion of the light.  Cling to it as you would your last breath, for it will be your salvation.”

“And the salvation of those who are condemned to wander in the shadows?”

“Some wander because they are lost.  For others it is their penance before the Almighty.  I know of whom you speak, and he is not lost.”

…Epilogue

 

Death followed the little girl up the steep steps leading to the keep’s wall.  His namesake was proving more mischievous then the aunt whose name she also bore.  Young Melissa, with her striking blue eyes and long dark curls, was always up to some mischief.  Keeping her safe and out of trouble usually fell on her less rebellious twin, but today Amele was off with his father and the other warriors training in the art of war.  Melissa had not been happy at being left behind, so she’d slipped away from the watchful eye of her long-suffering nurse and was intent on at least keeping an eye on her twin brother from her view on the wall.

Even now she was using all of her young strength to push open the door to the stairwell leading to the wall and squeezing swiftly through the narrow opening before her strength failed her and the heavy wooden door slammed shut in her face.  He could hear the muffled echo of his young charge’s nurse calling her name from somewhere below in the keep, likely near the king’s personal chambers, where Melissa was no doubt ordered to wait for her father and brother to return and not to get into her usual mischief.

A wide smile split the young girl’s face at her escape and emboldened by her achievement, she hurried over to the side of the wall and began climbing the side, finding hand and footholds in the crevices in the stone to assist her in her climb.  Shaking his head, Death leaned back against the wall and released an amused sigh at the disaster that was no doubt about to strike.

As if becoming aware of his presence, the young princess swung her head around, clinging precariously to her hold on the side of the wall.  When she didn’t see anyone, she muttered beneath her breath, chided herself for her foolish fear, and then continued her climb to the top of the wall.

She was so excited when she managed to reach the very top and stand on its narrow ledge; she performed a triumphant little dance in celebration.  Running feet and horrified shouts sounded from the direction of the watch tower, when the guard posted there spotted his king’s young daughter in deadly peril of the precipitous drop from the top of the wall.

Distracted, Melissa turned in surprise in the direction of the shouts.  Her fear of being caught by one of her father’s guards and the resulting punishment she would receive from her parents at this latest venture made her turn too swiftly along the wall to escape the consequences of her impetuous triumph and her small feet slipped from their sure stance.  Waving her arms in a desperate attempt to regain her balance, terror filled her eyes when she realized she was about to plunge to her death.  Papa would definitely not be happy about that.  Her mama would probably cry.

Tears slid down the young girl’s cheeks as she reached out desperately for the hands of the guard running just as desperately in her direction, but they both knew he wouldn’t reach her in time.

Shaking his head and recognizing in resignation that this would be an oft repeated rescue, Death stepped forward and tugged the girl forward and into his arms.  For a moment, startled blue eyes met amused black ones as the girl’s small hands latched onto his shoulders and then her slender arms wrapped frantically around his neck.  A moment later she toppled to the stone floor between the wall and the keep.

Dazed, and overcome with impossible relief to see his king’s young daughter escape from certain death, the guard from the watch tower reached the princess where she sat on the floor, dusting off her bruised knees.  He reached for the mischievous princess and drew her against his heaving chest with hands that shook.

“Princess, are you all right?  Are you hurt, child?”

Melissa wriggled against his strong arms, and raised confused blue eyes to those of the man who held her in his shaking grasp.  “No, I’m not hurt, Miller, but where did the other man go?”

Confused her would-be rescuer replied, “Other man?”

“Yes, the one who saved me.  He pulled me back from the edge when I was about to fall.”

The guard shook his head, thinking terror must have addled the young princess’ wits.  “There was no one else here, Princess.  Perhaps it was an angel who pulled you back.  The good lord knows I would never have reached you in time.”

“An angel?” Melissa echoed curiously.  “Do angels have black eyes?”

Stumped, the guard shook his head.  “I couldn’t say, Princess.  I’ve never seen an angel before.”

Melissa grinned and a knowing light entered her young eyes.  “I have.”  Then she added as another thought struck her, “We don’t have to tell Papa about this, do we Miller?”

 

 

                                          The End

 

 

Keep reading for a preview of Lynn Wood’s new book, “
Mary Elle
”, a story of romantic suspense coming Spring, 2015.

 

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