Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (16 page)

"We shall find him," Erik said.

"Where can they be?" she asked, when they
discovered a second empty tent.

Suddenly Erik saw a small bonfire around which people had
gathered, just beyond the tents. "There," he said. "There is the
child." Rowenna was bouncing William merrily on her lap as she sat on a
stump, other children around them. In their midst stood a young man playing a
musical pipe. Several young men stood in a semi-circle, their heads together as
Erik and Iliana approached.

Iliana hurried toward the bonfire.

"Calmly," Erik said behind her, "calmly now
Iliana. He is well and happy."

She slowed her pace, and reached the small gathering.
Rowenna turned to see her and smiled, then stood with little William in her
arms. His face and hands were sticky with food and Rowenna reached down into a
wooden bucket beside her and washed his face, then dunked his hands.

Erik felt Iliana's impatience, but she waited until the girl
had washed him relatively clean. With a forced smile and a murmur, Iliana
lifted the child into her arms.

"Good day, mistress," said Rowenna. Several of the
young men stared at him, and he felt their mistrust and lack of enthusiasm to
have him there. They stood with clenched fists, nudging at each other, eyes
dark and sullen. Combined with the empty ale jugs on the ground, their dark
looks made him wary for their safety.

"Good day," Iliana said and she turned back toward
him. He saw the look on her face, the way she held William to her breast and
closed her eyes, dropping a kiss on his dark, tousled hair.

Then she started across the field and the path to the keep.

Erik watched the group for another moment, then fell into
step beside her.

"Do not ever tell me how to conduct myself where my
child is concerned," she said stiffly, staring straight ahead. He heard
the strain in her voice, the trembling of remembered fear.

"As you wish." Erik sighed, feeling he'd just
taken two giant steps backward.

As they continued on the path through the woods, he knew he
could not leave things as they were, with words unspoken between them.

"Iliana, I did not mean to interfere."

"Then do not."

"Nor was my caution to you random."

"It matters not," she said quickly, her voice
dismissive.

"It does matter. There were some in that group who may
have itched for a fight, or a confrontation."

"You feared you might have to fight for us?"

"Not that. I would fight for you without
question."

She stopped and looked at him, her surprise clear.
"Then what?"

Patiently, he said, "I would not want you or the child
caught in the middle of any fighting."

She stopped. "Most men would not worry over such a
thing."

"Some men," he corrected gently.

She looked ready to argue, but then she suddenly blurted.
"You will have to excuse my hesitation, but I have seen too much of men
who ride roughly over a woman. And the law will uphold the man's right to do
so."

He nodded agreement. "Whether a man has the right or
not under the eyes of the law, it is another thing when his behavior goes
against what he knows in his heart is right."

She stared at him, her eyes wide, then shook her head.
"Men do as they will and expect to be obeyed."

"That is not how I wish to treat a woman." He
regarded her seriously. "That is not how I wish to treat you."

They had reached the postern door, but now she hesitated.
"Please continue."

"I have told you that we have met before."

Her expression became guarded. "You vow you are a
changed man?"

"I swear I am not
that
man. We are two separate
men."

He recalled Camdork's bragging reference to that horrid
event four years ago and a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He
felt rage that that bully wanted Iliana.

He clenched a fist against his thigh. Assaulting a woman was
not something he'd ever want associated with his name, but how to make her see
he was not Camdork? He looked around warily, knowing the woods at their backs
could be full of spies.

She pushed open the postern door and looked up at him.
"Did you kill Agnes?"

"No."

She took a deep breath, shook her head. "I want -- how
can I believe you?" She appeared to struggle a moment, her mouth in a
straight, determined line. "You speak of a ship -- but I remember no
ship," she said.

"And I would help you remember," he said urgently.
"This affects both our lives. I ask that we talk privately where others
cannot hear."

She hesitated a moment. "Meet me later tonight after
the house has quieted."

"Shall I come to your chamber?"

"No," she said quickly, "No -- those witches
are ever hanging about. Meet me at the far edge of the courtyard by the twisted
trees. The trees create a natural arbor. Do you know of where I speak?"

"Yes."

"I warn you, Camdork, if your news is not of my liking,
I will not stay overlong."

Erik grinned. "Well, it is my guess you may be
intrigued by what I have to say. Good day, Iliana. Until later."

Eric closed the door behind them and leaned against the
sturdy wood. "My Lady Iliana?" he called.

She turned back.

"Thank you for the day." He smiled and saluted
her. Quickly, she turned and hurried from him, but not before he had seen her
fleeting smile.

¤¤

Iliana paced the floor in the great hall, then began to help
clear the tables for the next day's meal. Her mind was heavy, her thoughts
racing.

She planned to meet Camdork despite her fear and the
warnings inside her head. There were too many things which did not make sense
to her. The late afternoon and evening had been long and filled with arduous
tasks. Despite her reservations about Camdork, she had enjoyed the festival.
For a few short moments, she had forgotten her worries and
she had forgotten
Camdork's reputation.

The afternoon had turned sour when she had lost sight of
William for those tense moments. She had suffered a terrible panic, feared him
taken, even though she had always trusted Rowenna. Rowenna, after all, was the
daughter of Thomas the carpenter, a family long associated with the keep.

Iliana worried about Camdork and his men-at-arms encamped in
the courtyard and outside the walls. Her men patrolled, but she knew they would
be no threat if Mandrak and his witches decided to cast evil spells.

Only this evening she had learned of the death of another
young girl in the village. Only fifteen, she had been the oldest daughter of a
family that had lost a mother only last spring. The girl had been found drowned
in a swamp on the edge of the village. These deaths reinforced Mandrak's threat
to kill the innocent, whether he was responsible or not.

Iliana walked up the stairs, down the darkened corridor and
made her way to her chamber. William had been put down to sleep over an hour
ago and she needed to see him undisturbed before going to meet Camdork. In truth,
she was feeling bone tired tonight, but knew she dare not put this off for the
morrow.

She opened the door and quietly entered her chamber. The
young girl Matilde lay next to her son on a pallet on the floor. She lifted her
head when Iliana leaned over William's cradle.

"He sleeps my lady."

"Where is Rowenna?"

"She will return in the morning, my lady."

"Rest. I will return within the hour."

The girl lay back upon her pallet. Iliana lifted the candle
on the dressing table and moved closer to her life tapestry. Not unexpectedly,
the tapestry showed in vivid detail the festivities of the day, little William
in her arms, and Camdork with his double shadow. But something else she noted
deeply disturbed her. There were three dark shadows lurking in the forest beyond
the festivities. She moved her hand over the silken threads, and an area
further beyond the festivities came into focus.

She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp of shock.
Beyond the trees several bodies lay in the swamp, sprawled upon the edge of the
green abyss, a trail of blood leading back to the three forest shadows. Gently,
Iliana touched the woven threads, watched the colors rearrange and swirl into a
new placement.

Far from the keep, far from the festivities, one man stood
in the hills all the way to the edge of her tapestry. Could this be the sorcerer?
A strange cloud surrounded him, its texture dense and dark. Leaning in for a closer
inspection, Iliana began to see faces take shape in the dark cloud; faces
expressing anguish and terror. Quickly, she stepped back, waving her hand over
the cloth to wash away the scene. The sorcerer surely walked in evil as he
carried poor souls with him.

Greatly disturbed, she retraced her steps to the great hall
below, moved quietly through the thick wooden door and made her way across the
courtyard. None would follow her to the trees, mainly due to superstition and
fear over their strange and twisted shapes. She knew the circle held vast
amounts of energy, and that energy could be harnessed so that one might see
worlds beyond the present. For Iliana, it represented a gateway; however, even
she did not know the full power of the circle.

Iliana entered the trees where the limbs bowed and created a
natural opening for her to slip through. In the moonlight the limbs seemed to
welcome her. She stepped inside and sought the stone bench. She knew he would
be occupied with his horse in the stable for a little while. Iliana took note
of the softly pulsing white light all around her.

She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar sensation of
lightness, her body as weightless as a feather as she slipped through the
fabric of time and the constraints of gravity.

She lay so still, Erik feared she was dead. He ran over to
Iliana, placed an arm under her shoulders and lifted her from the ground where
she lay. Instantly, he felt as if a jolt of heat coursed throughout his entire
body, then an electric jolt of pain traveled up the healing flesh of his
relatively new wound. The sensation was not pleasant, and he struggled not to
drop her.

His mind was invaded by a barrage of images, people and
places flashing across his eyes. He staggered, then sat on the stone bench,
Iliana in his arms.

Her body jerked, and then she sat upright, pulling away from
the shelter of his arms. She came to her feet, then at once sat on the stone
bench. As soon as her body left contact with his, the images abruptly ceased.
Erik shook his head, trying to rid himself of the unsettling whirl of images.

"What the devil was that?" he demanded, putting a
hand to his head.

"My Lord Camdork --" Shaky and uncertain, her
voice was a mere thread of sound. "Surely the time is not right for us to
meet." She rubbed her eyes. "Why have you come so early?"

"It was time, or so I thought." Erik brought his face
closer to hers in concern. "I came here and thought you injured or
ill."

"What has happened?" Iliana looked shaken, as if
she were disoriented. "Never have I felt this way before." She looked
around, her eyes wide in panic at the faint glow of pulsing light. "You
are inside the sacred circle. H-how do you come to be in here?"

Erik watched the strange light begin to dim. "I don't
know about a sacred circle. I came through the trees to find you lying on the
ground. You were white and cold as ice."

"You touched me."

Erik surged to his feet. "I thought you were
injured."

"Please forgive me. I am not quite myself."

"Something strange occurred when I touched you."

"What?"

"It was a jolt, a shock to my body, and I was suddenly
overwhelmed with images, people's faces and places."

Carefully, Iliana said, "What kind of places?"

Erik shook his head. "It is difficult to comprehend,
much less give an explanation. It happened so quickly. When my hands no longer
touched you, the images ceased. There were battles, people crying out, babies
being born."

Iliana stared at him in fascination. "This is
strange," she muttered. "How could you possibly see more than I see?
Please tell me what you saw."

"One scene is clearer than the others. Many are
fighting. Two men fall, a third hurries to their side and he too falls, an
arrow from behind. There was a man on horseback, a light colored horse,
concealed in the brush. It is he who shot the deadly arrows, taking down all
three."

Unable to contain herself, Iliana gave an anguished cry.
"Three years I have tried to see, three years I have sought the truth of
that day. And now you see it. How can that be?" Clearly agitated, she
moved away from him, toward the opening in the trees.

"Come, Iliana, be cautious. We might be easily seen
from the castle walls. Tell me," he urged, daring to catch her hand and
pull her back into the circle's center. "Tell me the significance of what
I saw."

Iliana spoke in an anguished voice. "It was Sir
William, his two sons, the twins Aisyn and Desryn. They fell during a skirmish,
taken down all three by a coward's arrow. All were shot in the back."

"I am baffled and surely it was like a dream. How could
I witness such an event?"

"Many things are possible in the sacred circle. It
occurred eight years ago. Sir William and Aisyn, their bodies were brought home
for burial, and their wounds were recorded. Desryn was never recovered, never
laid to rest in the family burial place."

"This is your family?"

She turned from him, bowed her head.

"I am lady here, am I not?" she replied quietly.
"Sir William was once the greatest knight in this realm. A dark enemy
lured him into war and then killed them all."

He nodded in somber reflection. "I understand your pain
-- how keenly your loss must ache."