Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (17 page)

"I am alone in this," she whispered. She put her
arms around her waist. "How I have longed for comfort but dared not seek
it."

Erik dropped to the ground, leaned his back against the
stone bench and drew up one knee. "Tell me how this happened," he
urged.

Iliana moved to perch on the stone bench. She pushed the
hair behind her ears. "I cannot shake this uneasiness that stalks my
memories of Camdork." She stared at him piercingly. "Sorenta tells me
I should not still think of it, yet I cannot seem to let the images go."

"This involves Camdork?"

"Yes, but there are other memories that slip in and
out. At times, I fear insanity. I feel as if I have lived another life."
She looked at him sharply. "Many times things are not as they seem in this
world."

Erik grinned ruefully. "True. Dragons in the sky, a
London court with a queen who never came to the throne, and a man who would be
king but who is imprisoned. Wood carvings that come alive. The next
thing," he said, humor creeping into his voice, "you will tell me
there are unicorns throughout the forests."

Iliana stared at the tree limbs sheltering them. "Nay,
only one grand unicorn."

Erik sat up straighter. "One?"

She looked at him, waving a hand as if unicorns were of no
importance right now. "I am gifted with certain knowledge. I can see the
future, sometimes I am permitted to shape it so lives are not lost, but I have
no idea how to control this knowledge, or even if there is a way for it to be
controlled. Since William was born, I am almost afraid to come here. In this
trance when I travel to other places I fear not being able to return. Should I
be lost to my son, it would surely kill me."

"Make me understand what you do and what you see."

She stared at him for long moments. She bit her lip.
"Time enough for that. Tell me again your name."

"Erik Marcus Remington."

"Erik, not Camdork. And yet you bear a resemblance to
him."

"So he claims. I do not see it."

"How did this come about? Begin with the ship you
sailed through time, and be exact in the telling -- this life you claim as Erik
Remington."

"I used to live in New York in the United States of
America. Across the sea from England. I lived most of my early life at sea,
save the years after I met my brother Darien. He persuaded me to try land
living for a time. After Darien left, I went back to the sea. My crew and I do
salvage diving. We dive to shipwrecks off shore in east coast waters."

"For treasure?" she asked, sounded intrigued.

He nodded. "Gems, coins, jewels and gold that went down
with the ships. The coast is littered with such wrecks." Erik smiled.
"I have quite a stash of gold buried, you know." He stared at her
blue eyes. "If ever I make it back, I will go and dig it up."

"And this brother, Darien, you said he and his wife are
gone?"

"It is an involved story. Suffice it to say I knew my
brother a mere fifteen years. We found each other quite by accident. My father
did not believe in wedding the women he loved, and he loved many. Darien was
six months younger than I. We were half brothers."

"You speak in the past?"

"I think of it in the past, but I am no longer sure
what is past and what is present. My brother has traveled far -- to another
time and into the future." Erik watched for her reaction.

Iliana watch him as if transfixed, a strange half smile
parting her lips. "It is a fantasy tale," she finally whispered.

"Perhaps." He sobered quickly. "Many times I
have wondered did they reach their destination safely. I have told you
something I expect never to tell another living soul. Regards our voyage here,
I work for my government and chase ships that deal in white slavery. They
promise women a better life, work, and then enslave them on their ship until
they reach a far flung destination. The women are hidden away and become slaves
to those who pay."

"A loathsome trade," she derided. "Not so
different from this time. What is your time?"

"1844. It is that time you came to me aboard
the
Merry Maiden
."

Iliana frowned. "I have seen many places --" she
hesitated, then shook her head.

"Do you recall anything of our time together?" he
asked, unable to contain his eagerness.

To his disappointment, she shook her head.

"Near the end of a hot, blistering summer, I awoke one
morning, and there you were."

"Someone who appeared to be me."

"You," he said. "I have no doubt it was
you."

"Go on."

"You lay in my bed beside me. Needless to say I was
intrigued. You were full of laughter and light, a beacon on my ship for those
seven days and nights."

Iliana frowned. "Nay, you have me confused with
another. It is a long time since I have felt capable of carefree
laughter."

"It was you." Erik insisted. He dared to reach out
a hand and cup her cheek. "You alone -- with your long dark hair, lustrous
upon your naked shoulders."

She caught her breath, her hand up to her throat, and he
wished it were his hand touching her delicate skin.

"Erik Marcus Remington." She said his name as if
trying it out on her tongue.

He held his breath, hoping something would suddenly come to
her memory.

She shook her head, sadly it seemed. "There is no
memory. But I begin to wish there had been one. I wish that lady had been
me."

Erik looked up at the dark sky. "I am convinced,"
he said. "I know it was you. I have searched --"

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"Yea, I have searched the seas for three years, hoping
to find you." He laughed, but there was little humor. "My dark-haired
sea witch. I began to think I'd been enchanted by the sea sirens, lured to the
sea, endlessly searching for a woman who did not exist." His green eyes
held hers. "But then I arrived here and I find you."

"I would wish --" she shook her head, as if to
dismiss that very wish. "Tell me of this vortex."

Erik sighed. "We sailed across the ocean, through the
Sargasso Sea. There were water spouts shooting from the sea up to the sky, and
suddenly we were being drawn into a great whirling pool of water, a hole, if
you will, that opened in the sea. We were sucked fast and somehow came out on
the other side, just off the coast of England. It just is not possible to cross
an ocean so quickly -- except by some supernatural force. My ship t
he
Merry Maiden
has been a faithful, sturdy ship all these years, but she brought me to the
coast and there we were, chained in the water, unable to sail away. Camdork
waited on the beach, his artillery ready to burn us in the water."

"This has something to do with Mandrak's spells,"
she murmured.

"Tell me about Mandrak."

"A sorcerer bent on evil. It is said a man washed in
from the sea. Badly bruised, injured and bleeding, a family found him and
brought him into their home. He spoke in his delirium of witchcraft and
sorcery, evil that was so black it frightened the family who had saved him.
After two days of listening to his delirium as he made a pact with the devil,
they loaded him into a cart in the middle of the night and took him out to the
red soil hills. They left him to die, it is said, in the wasteland beyond the
hills, where the soil is red and the fighter dragons have their caverns. They
thought he would die, but within a week he traveled back to the village, his
face frightening to those who chanced upon him. Rotted flesh on one side of his
face, one eye barely clinging to the flesh. He spoke of vengeance on the family
who tried to save him. Within two days four members of the family were found disemboweled,
their body parts scattered along the road. The man was whispered to be a
sorcerer, known as Mandrak. Tales of his evil began to grow as witches came
from all over to gather with him, giving him more power, creating more fear. At
first men at arms were sent to disperse their gatherings in the woods at night,
but the troops either ran off or were killed. Some joined their league. It has
become out of control, and Mandrak holds everyone in a grip of fear. If sorcery
was involved in your arrival here, it is at Mandrak's behest. Now you will
understand my hesitation in believing your tale."

"He sounds like a man who needs to be stopped."

"Never forget he is dangerous, whether a man or
devil."

"But now we come back to how you travel through time.
Why do you think it's impossible you traveled to my time?"

"I always remember. The many places I have seen, it is
as if I am there. I see many things."

"You walk about in these times?"

"No, I merely see them and I experience them but I am
never truly there. I am entrenched in this time." She did not hide the
bitterness in her voice.

"You are not telling me the truth, or not all of it,
because I know otherwise."

Fervently, she said, "I swear on my life I am never in
these places. I merely see them, as if in a dream."

Erik stood up, looked down at her. "But I know this is
not true. I know because your presence on my ship has altered my life."

"I would wish --" she halted, dropping her eyes
from the intensity of his.

Erik clenched his fists, helpless against the memory washing
over him. "It was you," he said, "you who came to me. Even my
brother knows of your arrival in my life. You came to taunt me with your
dreams, your search for the green gem, then you left without a word or a
backward glance."

Iliana looked stunned. "The green gem? W-what do you
know of a green gem?"

"You had great urgency in your search for the gem. It
was very important to your survival, you claimed, but then would say no
more." He saw her again in his mind's eye. "When you did not find
what you sought, you vanished, forgetting promises made, dreams of which we
spoke. It was not your intent to keep those promises."

She grabbed his arm. "There is nothing more I can say.
I swear to you, I do not know of what you speak."

Some of his anger abated. She really seemed to believe what
she told him, but how could it be true? "Perhaps it no longer
matters," he said. "It was three years ago." He looked around
them. "Let us go inside, the air grows cooler."

Iliana made a frustrated sound, but nodded. "Yes, I
must go. William is often times restless. I would be with him." She moved
toward the small opening in the branches, then suddenly turned and came back to
him.

"I am sorry for your pain," she said, gripping his
arm with her fingers, careful to avoid the injured arm. "And I do
understand your pain, and in truth I wish I was that woman you sought,"
she added. "I believe you are not that devil Camdork. I have seen and
heard of your kindness while you have been here. I resisted believing it at
first, but I have never heard of any tale of kindness about that one. But I
dare not call you Erik lest I arouse suspicions."

He bowed his head. "For now, we must continue as
before."

In an instant she leaned on her tip toes and pressed her
mouth to his. Erik enfolded her into his arms, closing his eyes as she sank for
just a moment against him. How long had he longed for this? And just like that,
she was gone.

Erik drew a deep breath, the scent of roses still in his
nostrils. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms, and it was not
enough. But for tonight, it had to be.

¤¤

Ulrich watched Lady Iliana hurry across the moon-washed
courtyard. He continued to sharpen his knife, and as she passed by him, her
eyes met his for a fleeting moment. Even in the moonlight he could see the
surprise and perhaps fear on her face. He wondered that she was about so late
at night, but in truth he knew it was none of his business, though Mandrak
would want to know.

They were all here at her continued patience. He saw the
pretender follow behind her, and he frowned, pausing a moment with the
sharpening stone. Aye, trouble brewing there if that one thought to intrude
upon Camdork's claim of the woman.

Ulrich rose from his stump, putting aside his knife and
sword, and stepped into the path of the pretender, causing him to stop.

"Ulrich?" the pretender said. "You are on
watch. Good night to you."

"Maybe not so good a night. Why are you following the Lady
Iliana?"

"None of your business," the other man said quite
pleasantly.

Ulrich grinned, though not amused. "It is my business.
I am here to make sure you remain out of trouble and do as you are bid."

The pretender scratched his head and looked at Ulrich.
"And why would you throw your lot in with Camdork? By all accounts he is a
murderer and a brutal beast who steps on all who get in his path."

"And why should you think I am any different?"
Ulrich demanded, taking a step closer.

The pretender grinned. "Ulrich, you play the game, but
I consider myself a good judge of character. You are not of the same ilk as
Camdork."

"Make no assumptions. There is much you do not know,
pretender."

"And time grows short, does it not Ulrich? I would like
to know more."

"You better remember to keep that arrogance hidden when
next Camdork shows up," Ulrich muttered. "I would hate to see you
killed intruding where you don't belong."

The pretender rubbed his arm. "Oh, when does he
arrive?"

"He does not confide in me, but I see he grows
impatient. He wants to claim the lady."

"And what of his penchant for murdering young women --
do you condone such deeds? Do you know anything about that?"

Ulrich picked up his knife and resumed the sharpening.
"You had best worry for yourself instead of thinking of the
peasants."

"He will discard you just as easily as he would
me," the pretender said. "Never forget that."