Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (11 page)

Suddenly, the door to her chamber burst open. She did not
dare to look away from the dragon. "Stay back!" she cried. "The
fighter dragon will kill you."

"I knew no good would come of dragons in the sky,"
she heard Camdork mutter. "Where is it?"

She glanced at him quickly and despite her warning, he
stepped into the room.

"That?" he said. She looked askance at him. He
sounded on the verge of amusement.

"This is no laughing matter," she said tensely.
"It can gut you before you know he is upon you."

She saw him glance at her bleeding hand. William stirred and
pulled himself to the side of his bed. The dragon turned toward him, skittered
across the floor and under his cradle. "William!"

Before she could get back to his cradle, Camdork was there,
lifting her son up out of the bed and into his arms. He pushed the cradle back
until it hit the wall and then Iliana moved in with the iron poker.

The fighter dragon crawled up the side of the cradle and
then flew straight up toward Iliana's face. She dropped the poker and protected
her eyes.

Camdork grabbed the dragon out of the air with one hand, two
fingers around its throat. The dragon twisted and writhed, but Camdork squeezed
it tight.

Amazed, Iliana watched as her son, held in the crook of
Camdork's arm, pressed his chubby hands around the man's throat.

Camdork turned towards her, let her take William, still
holding the dragon at arm's length.

As Iliana watched in stunned amazement, he lifted the dragon
to eye level. "I saw your counterpart, you know, when I first arrived. A
wer-dragon they called it, half as big as my ship. And now here you are -- a
tiny replica."

"It is deadly," she warned just as the dragon
stretched its neck and tried to snap at him.

He moved toward the fire in the grate, kicked at the logs
until the flames roared fully to life. "I will roast you like an ear of
corn." He tossed the fighter dragon into the fire and immediately it burst
with a big puff of white powder that sifted down into the fire.

"Are you demented?" she snapped, fear still riding
her as she watched the dragon disappear. "You do not realize how dangerous
they are." Even as William reached up toward the man, she half turned away
from him. "Do you know that fighter dragon could have disemboweled and
killed you?"

He lifted a brow. "Surely you jest -- disemboweled me?
I've had bigger rats aboard my ship. Come, show me your hand," he said,
holding out his palm.

"You have saved my son," she said stiffly,
"but make no mistake, they are killers. They need little provocation to
attack, but never have we been plagued inside the castle by those demons."

"Where did it come from?"

"Agnes had brought carved wooden play toys for William
the day before -- before she died. The carved dragon was one of them."
Quickly, she bent over William's bed and removed the carved horse from his bed
linen. She turned it over, relieved to find it had not been spell cast.
"One of the witches must have cast a spell. Or Mandrak," she
muttered. "But why? Why put a spell of magic over a wooden toy and make it
come alive?"

"You are telling me a toy dragon came to life through magic?"

She nodded.

"And why am I not surprised?" he asked, sighing.
"Like many things in this world it does not have a reasonable
explanation."

"Dragons are well known here," she said with a
frown. "Although it is unusual for a fighter dragon to attack without
provocation."

Iliana walked over to her life tapestry, seeing the crimson
stains on her hand, and now included in her tapestry was the figure of Camdork.
She leaned closer, gently touched the woven cloth and the scene became much
clearer.

She looked back at him, frowning. In the tapestry he stood
beside her, the dragon writhing in his hand and behind him there appeared a
shadow, a second man.

Iliana drew in a startled breath, suddenly understanding
what she was seeing. He had two faces. She was reminded she could not trust
him, no matter what he showed on the surface.

"I am thankful for your assistance in keeping William
safe," she said stiffly, "but you must leave now." How could she
have forgotten even for a moment he was her enemy?

Camdork moved over to the door, closed it and leaned back
against it. "I think not."

Iliana placed William on the bed furs, then stood with her
feet braced between Camdork and her son.

"Iliana, there is no need to hover over that child. He
is quite safe. I do not eat babies."

"I have heard otherwise," she muttered,
maintaining her stance.

Erik sighed. "My name is Erik Marcus Remington but I
used to go by the name Rufus LaTour." He waited, as if he expected her to
recognize his name.

"I am not of this time. My ship was caught in a storm
and sailed into a harbor where I was forced to come here by Weinroof of
Camdork."

She continued to watch him.

"Camdork and I bear a similar appearance and I suppose
that's how he got the idea to send me here in his stead. He's up to something,
I sense it. Even some of his men think I am really him. There's a strange mix
of what is real and what is magic in this world." He shook his head,
fearing he wasted his breath, but he had to try. "I have begun an
investigation into Agnes' death. I would see whoever killed her brought to
justice." He put his hand up when she opened her mouth. "Yes, I know
you suspect me."

"It is said she was meeting with you," Iliana said
fiercely. "Why continue with this farce? Surely," she added
sarcastically, "you are so highly favored by the queen there will be no
punishment in the killing of a mere servant girl."

"But I did not kill her because I am not Camdork. I can
see your mind is set. When was the last time you saw Agnes?"

Reluctantly, it seemed, she answered, "Last night after
the evening meal. Agnes put William to bed for the night. She was meeting
someone and I admonished her that it was late already, but she swore she would
be on time for her duties in the morning." She lifted her chin.
"Sadly, that did not happen."

Iliana moved to sit on the bench beside her window
embrasure, her attention focused on the scene below. Her window faced to the
west, she could see clearly the small entourage making its way to the village.
Word of Agnes' death had passed quickly, as news was wont to do. "Poor,
dead Agnes." Iliana could not help but wonder what the villagers would say
now that Mandrak's prophesy had been fulfilled. Another innocent dead. He had
warned the people about such an occurrence; indeed, his dire warnings had
stirred the people for some months now. Iliana feared Mandrak's scheme to stir
unrest was working. If he succeeded in bringing everyone under his power, she
didn't know what she could do. The people might flee or disappear in the night.
Surely her seventy-five men at arms could not be expected to till the fields,
see to the grain, and cut the hay?

Iliana looked away from the village, her eyes resting on the
sea in the far distance. Was this to be the end? Was Mandrak and his clutch of
witches destined to win? The Holy Mother protect them all if such an occurrence
were to happen. Her mission would be in vain if Mandrak were to win.

She turned to him, found him staring at William as he dozed
once more on the bed furs, a frown on his face.

"Whose child?" he asked gruffly.

Iliana lifted her chin. "Mine."

"The father?"

"There is no father." She looked back out the
window, her fists clenched. "Surely it is not your business."

A knock at the door was a welcome interruption. The man's
presence in her chamber made her too uncomfortable. His green eyes, his size.
If he chose to harm her, there was only so much she could do, even with her
small dagger.

Camdork opened the door and a dark garbed figure sidled
inside.

"Sorenta." Iliana hurried past Camdork to lead the
old woman inside. She looked outside the corridor, then pushed the door closed.

"What do you know?" she asked.

The old woman's blind eyes stared into Iliana's as if she
could actually see her.

"'Tis not glad tidings I bear, my lady Iliana."

"I would hear them." Iliana urged the woman to a
stool. She looked over her shoulder at Camdork. "You may leave."

"I would stay," he said, moving to settle himself
against the window, crossing his feet.

Impatiently, she returned her attention to Sorenta, pressing
the thin, claw-like hands. "Tell me."

"The village buzzes with unrest, people stand idle in
the fields, the laundry sits unwashed in vats, what food there is rots on the
tables. With the death of Agnes, they fear the curse of Mandrak is truly upon
them. Some have already packed up their families."

"How can one man wield so much power? There is no proof
he is other than a mortal man."

"Tell me what is happening," Camdork said.

Sorenta closed her eyes. "The sorcerer Mandrak seeks
control. He has put fear into the countryside with his talk of curses and
plagues. The people fear his powers. He is greedy. He wants all," Sorenta
added. "I have seen the end as it can unfold. Darkness, death,
time-weaving under Mandrak's rule."

"What does he want to control?" Camdork asked.

Sorenta turned her attention to him. "All power over
the realms, this one and beyond."

"Camdork mentioned Mandrak when we first met," he
said.

"I know you claim not to be him," Iliana said,
"but to keep referring to him as if he were another person..."

Camdork turned his attention to Sorenta. "You know who
I am. Tell her."

The old woman smiled, one thin brow lifted. "It is not
for me to convince Iliana of anything. Words sometimes have less meaning than
deeds. The sorcerer twists time and magic, my lady Iliana, and dons a clever
mask, as do we all. Though some would call it divine power, I see his black
magic as it is, pure evil. He easily instills fear in those who cannot look
beyond the surface."

"And now he wields that black magic toward my son's
playthings," Iliana said grimly. "If he would show his face, I could
fight him. But he plays with my son's wooden toys and makes of them a deadly
weapon."

"Caution, my lady Iliana. Caution."

Iliana darted Camdork a glare. "And he says he is not
Camdork," she said with disgust.

"Perhaps you should listen," Sorenta said dryly.
"Did he not save your child? Has he shown you evil?"

Iliana shook her head. "No." She stared at
Sorenta's ageless eyes. "How can I know he speaks the truth?"

"We need to eliminate the threat of this
sorcerer," Camdork said, a glint in green eyes. "I shall have to find
him and disarm him."

"This is no game."

"Ah, but my lady Iliana, it is a game, one I have
played many times."

She put up her hands as if to shoo a fly. "Be off. This
is serious, sir. How can you find amusement in any of this unless you too are
in league with Mandrak?" She glared at him. "If you are careless and
get killed, no doubt the queen will come for my head."

His eyes were suddenly intense. "We shall make sure you
keep your head with its glorious dark curls."

Startled, Iliana said, "W-what?"

He dropped his idle pose by the window, came to stand beside
her. "Dark curls that I have seen splayed across your shoulders as you
slept." His eyes looked deeply into hers and for an instant of time, she
felt mesmerized.

"No!" she shook her head. "No -- I --"
Something in his eyes pulled at her. She wanted to fall deeply into them and
the emotion she glimpsed hidden inside. She drew back.

"I hope that one day you will remember," he said
solemnly. He nodded at Sorenta, opened the door and left, closing it behind
him.

Iliana stared in front of her, her breath at an uneven pace,
her mind unsettled.

She looked at Sorenta. "You have told me that he
--" she stumbled to a halt, "-- that Camdork, carries the secret of
the green gem."

"He has the ability to help you retrieve it or lose it
forever."

"I saw him on my life tapestry, and a shadow lurks
behind him. Surely it is an indication he shows the world two faces."

Sorenta seemed to shrug. "There are twins of emotion
involved, one so different than the other. I agree he is not as he seems."

"Nothing is as it seems," muttered Iliana.
"We have a murderer in our midst, perhaps in this very keep."
Distressed, she beseeched the old woman. "What am I to do? This man who
would be my husband is capable of foul deeds, all in the name of his queen. And
yet at times..." She shook her head. "What am I thinking?"

"It was not that long ago you were determined to kill
him."

"I admit I am conflicted."

"It is wise to trust yourself, whatever your judgment
might be, but make no final decision in haste lest you regret it once
done."

Iliana stared at her son. "For a moment," she
murmured, "I fell deeply into a memory. Is he too, a sorcerer? How is it
that I almost believed him? How would he know my hair is dark when all others
see light gold hair?"

¤¤

Iliana pushed the great wooden door closed, thankful she had
thought to spread goose's grease along the iron hinges earlier that morning.
Ever since the arrival of Camdork and his men, she had not had a moment's
respite. Despite the provisions and work the presence of fifty extra men
entailed, Iliana was more inclined to worry about their proximity. She was
truly saddened by the murder of her maid. Agnes had never harmed anyone. What
if it was not Camdork? Could it have been the sorcerer who crept into the
village at night?

Camdork meanwhile had taken over Sir William's empty
chambers. It still irked Iliana that he had shunned the small cell-like chamber
she had had Edward take him to. She had been as ungracious to him as she was
capable, and still the man took no hint. He remained polite and courteous.
Iliana knew she should be ashamed of her conduct, yet she could conjure no
feeling of remorse.