Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (10 page)

BOOK: Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy)
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"'Twas him, mistress," her voice was a mere
whisper, her eyes large and frightened, "'twas him Agnes went to
meet."

A knot twisted within her stomach as her eyes followed the direction
of Anna's trembling finger. The sword play was finished, one man standing
victor over the other, a half grin upon his lips. As Iliana watched with a
strange fascination, Camdork accepted a goblet from one of his men at arms,
tossing the contents back, then raising his fist in a gesture of victory,
before leaning forward to offer a hand to the man who knelt defeated on the
ground.

"The man on the ground?" Iliana queried, her voice
hopeful.

"Nay, mistress." Anna twisted her hands with great
agitation, the words wrenched from her, "It was my Lord Camdork. I am so
very sorry," she ended in a whisper. "Agnes was bound and determined
to meet with him. She laughed when we warned her of what we heard of his mean
ways."

Iliana took William in her arms, burying her face in his
sweet-scented neck. Then, tightlipped, she made her way across the courtyard,
ignoring Camdork's men and slipping through the postern door, ignoring him as
he called her name.

Damn his soul! She had warned him. He was determined to make
a fool of her in her own home. Poor Agnes. Iliana walked aimlessly among the
trees, her mind in turmoil. She hugged William closer to her breast, tears
blinding her as she stumbled. She stopped, blinking quickly. It would not do
for her to fall, hurting both she and the baby. Gently, she brushed back his
dark hair, smiling into his face as he gave her his endearing toothless grin.

She had only gone a short distance when her path was blocked
by one of Camdork's men at arms. She had noticed him in the courtyard upon
occasion, his size bigger than any of the other men, his dark eyes fierce, and
unruly black hair and beard not easily forgotten.

When she would have gone around him, he stepped back into
her path, his size intimidating as he gestured back the way she had come.

She put her chin up. "Sir, let me pass."

"It is better if you return the way you came, my lady
Iliana."

She looked at him suspiciously and tried to look around him.
"What are you hiding? Why may I not pass?"

"There has been an accident," he said, his voice
gruff.

"Move aside," she said.

"My lady --"

"Now."

Iliana moved past him, following a path into heavy brush. It
was only a short distance later that she found the thick-soled slipper. Bending
to retrieve the lone slipper, Iliana suddenly saw someone lying beside the edge
of the trees where the brush grew lighter, a grey cloak twisted about long
legs. Iliana immediately recognized the cloak she had given Agnes, who had none
of her own to ward off chill night and mornings. It fell gravely short on the
girl, barely covering her knees.

"Agnes," Iliana chided, "have you slept out
here all night?" Iliana moved closer, shifting William to her other hip as
she bent down to shake the young girl. She drew back with a startled
exclamation as one of Agnes' hands fell limply across her naked stomach, the
fingertips scarlet with blood. She took another step back, horrified. Blood was
everywhere.

Iliana could now see Agnes' eyes stared lifelessly upward.

Blindly, Iliana turned to flee, but she was caught from
behind and held. Heart pounding so fiercely she thought she should collapse,
Iliana looked up into green eyes.

Camdork.

She clutched the baby closer to her chest.

Beyond him, she saw the black-haired giant.

¤¤

"Iliana, are you all right?"

She threw her head up. "You dare to ask me?" she
hissed. "Perhaps you know what befell poor misguided Agnes?"

Erik narrowed his eyes, taking in the scene behind her.
"Good God --" He looked at her. "What would I know? There lies
your poor maid, apparently brutally murdered --"

"Verily she is dead. Will you tell me you did not know
it?"

Erik pulled her away from the dead girl. She tried to twist
free, but he would have none of it, forcing her before him. Several people, no
doubt hearing the commotion, began to walk toward them, led by Rowenna and
Thomas the carpenter.

"Thomas," Iliana directed as the man came running
from the keep, to see what was causing the curiosity, "see that poor Agnes
is brought to her father's house." The man immediately rushed forward. He
looked at Camdork, then away, his face pale.

"I will gather some fellows to help me," he mumbled.
He walked back the way he'd come. "Agnes would not listen."

"What do you mean?" Iliana called after him, but there
was no answer as Thomas walked toward the village, his shoulders slumped.

"My lady Iliana," Camdork said, "come
away."

Iliana turned to him. "Scoundrel, son of a pig,
loathsome bacon-brain --"

"Enough!" He pulled her up against him, ignoring
her struggles. He lifted William away from her and into his own arms.

"Give me my son," she said furiously.

"Why would you think I know about this?" he asked,
jostling William until the boy began to chuckle with glee.

"Why? Do you think I am some little pea goose without a
thought in her head? I have seen the glances Agnes was wont to cast your way.
Do not ply me with an untruth, declaring you have no knowledge of what
happened. I have seen it with my own eyes. I am not daft."

"It appears you are," he said coldly, gritting his
teeth. "What is it that you have seen except poor Agnes lying there dead?
Did you see me place her lifeless body there? Did you see me brutalize the
girl?"

"Give me my son." She could not snatch her son
back, and in truth, he was grinning with delight as now Camdork gently swung
him to and fro.

"So now you accuse me of murder, Iliana?"

Iliana did not speak, but her eyes wide with horror surely
gave him his answer. Her glance fixated on the talon like marks across his
throat and collarbone where dried blood flecked the skin.

"Your neck," she said.

"I earned those training in the courtyard, though no
doubt you will not believe me."

Iliana held out her shaking hands and Camdork placed William
in her arms. With the baby held close, she hurried back toward the castle.

She glared at the dark giant as she passed him. He had known
Agnes was there, that's why he'd blocked her path. He was Camdork's man.

¤¤

Iliana paced. She needed time to think...time to decide her
next course of action. Her greatest fears had come to fruition. There was no
doubt she was betrothed to a murderer of innocent women. But then what had she
expected? She knew his reputation. Had she actually harbored doubts that his
evil nature was a lie?

Iliana felt actual physical pain, her mind whirling with
terrible thoughts. How could she protect anyone if a murderer took control of
the land and the people, turning everything black and foul?

Once inside, Iliana fed William his lunch, gently guiding
his chubby baby fingers to the trencher full of cut up vegetables and fruit. He
was in a playful mood today, slapping at his food rather than putting it in his
mouth. She took the small pieces of vegetables and buzzed them around his face
and ears, watching his eyes follow her movements, until he voluntarily opened
his mouth and she'd pop some food inside. Laughing with his deep chuckle, he
put his head back, waiting for the game to begin again. Iliana smiled, letting
herself forget what she had seen earlier as they played in gentle innocence.

Her little William. So precious, her child, born one hot
summer night. He was still one of the mysteries of her life here. She had been
gifted with this delightful child, but how she had even become with child
remained a mystery. It had caused her great angst in the beginning, to discover
herself pregnant, but even her life tapestry had hidden the truth from her.
There had been a time where she lay ill for three weeks, and when she began to
recover from the strange illness, she began to notice the changes in her body.
Frantically, she had searched her life tapestry, but the finely woven cloth had
refused to let her see that time. It remained blurred, as if a protective
covering had been placed over the memory.

And perhaps that was for the best, she thought on many
occasions. For what if the circumstances of William's conception were more than
she could bear?

Washing his face and hands, Iliana carried him upstairs,
then let him play for a time on the bed furs as she sat on the bed. Tears came
to her eyes as she saw the small wooden animals Agnes had brought to their
chamber only the other day. They were scattered across the bed surface, and
William clutched them in his chubby fingers, a sheep and a horse, as he crawled
with them in his hands. A knight and a dragon lay on the bed furs since William
had not yet noticed those.

"Time for a nap, young man," she said softly. He
looked at her with those pure green eyes, most seriously, then he sat back and
held the wooden sheep out to her. Iliana took it, holding it to her breast,
overcome with such love for this child. She lay down on the bed and pulled him
close, kissed his cheek, inhaling his sweet baby fragrance. He lay still beside
her as they faced each other, face to face, until slowly his eyes grew heavy
and he fell asleep, the horse still clutched in one hand.

Iliana rose, lifting William carefully and placing him in
his bed. He was getting quite heavy, and growing taller so quickly, it seemed.
Soon, she would have a small bed made for him as he had almost outgrown the
large wood cradle.

Once he was settled, she moved to the window, pushed aside
the cloth and stared at the yard below. Camdork's men filled the courtyard with
their gaming, dice and sword play. The clang of metal filled the air all day.
He participated also, stripped to the waist. Wide shoulders, a light dusting of
blonde hair, slim hips. Crossing her arms in front of her, Iliana put her back
to the window, feeling the breeze move against her hair.

Iliana pondered the chain of events in the last several
weeks. She had a new shipment of gems arriving any day now. Her most trusted
men at arms went once a month to the seaport to the west, meeting a merchant
from the deserts far beyond England's shores. Rare gems were exchanged for the
jeweled pieces she had painstakingly created, gems of the highest caliber
embedded in silver and the occasional gold piece.

She had to wonder why had the queen sent Camdork to wed her.
Thank the saints he had not yet pressed her for the ceremony. How would she
hold him off? What excuse could she make? It appeared his men were settled in
for a prolonged stay.

Iliana moved to the dressing table which held her comb and
mirror. She picked up the hammered silver mirror. Running her fingers over the
red garnets embedded in the silver, she thought back to the last fortnight. Had
there been a warning the queen was taking an interest in her trade? She always
made sure the court received its share of the gem price. What if the queen did
try to wrest her trade from her? How then would she or her people survive?
Iliana looked into the mirror, holding it up to her face, staring into her own
blue eyes, her dark hair. What mask did she wear and who had put it into place?

Something pinched her neck and she twisted, frantically
brushing her neck with the back of her hand. Something flew past her nose and
she twisted sideways, swinging the mirror and hitting the object so that it
smacked onto the stone floor. Quickly, it scuttled to hide behind the bed's
wooden foot.

Stepping between William's cradle and where she'd last seen
the creature, Iliana backed toward the fireplace. Leaning down, she felt for
the iron poker. Moving cautiously forward, she used the poker to lift the bed
fur where it draped the floor. She jumped back with a small screech as a
fighter dragon scuttled toward her. She swung at it with the poker as it took
to the air, flying around her in circles.

Horrified, she realized it was William's wooden dragon, only
now its carved surface held a strange green glimmer as if the scales had come
alive. Little particles of green glittered at her as the small creature landed
on top of the bed.

It had tiny yellow eyes that opened and closed as its tail
twitched once and then again, this way and that. Quickly, she backed up closer
to William's cradle.

"Mother of Mercy, it is a fighter dragon," she
muttered. She held perfectly still as the dragon moved toward her, its
black-tipped scales moving with each step, looking razor sharp and deadly.

Iliana turned her head and saw her life tapestry, and she
was mesmerized by the swirling colors. As she watched, the picture began to
reveal itself, the colored threads swiftly creating the scene with the dragon
flying around her. She knew it was impossible to outrun a fighter dragon, it
would cut you to ribbons for sport. And William...

The dragon darted toward her, then flew straight up and down
toward William's cradle. She hit it with the back of her hand and it extended
its neck and hissed at her. She swung the mirror again. "Leave my son
alone. Leave this chamber for surely you are spell cast!" Never had she
seen one attack without provocation. She feared for their lives. She gained a
momentary reprieve as it flew haphazardly, then hit the wall across the room
and fell to the floor. Her hand stung, and she saw the scales had ripped open
the flesh. Grabbing a fresh linen cloth from the bedside stand, she awkwardly
wrapped the hand. The creature was between her and the door -- how could they
escape?

There was a rap at her door. She watched the fighter dragon
as it skittered back and forth on the stone floor as if daring her to try and
run past. The dragon lunged at her once more, this time at her legs. Its strong
tiny jaws gripped the hem of her gown and pulled her forward. "Get
out!" She swung the poker and managed a glancing blow on its tail.

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