"Ulrich, you would report the smallest detail to me, would you not?"
"Of course. Be aware the pretender is clever," Ulrich added. "He watches and listens to everything."
"Does he think to trick me? Surely he knows the lives of his men would be forfeited."
Ulrich shrugged. "I see how he seeks information here and there."
Mandrak nodded thoughtfully. "That could be to my advantage. Tell me what you know of my lady Iliana and what I may use to gain her cooperation?"
Ulrich hesitated.
"Well?"
"I do not know, my lord. She seems a fair and honest lady of the keep. No vices. I have not overheard anything dire said of her."
"You sound as if you admire the lady," Mandrak said, eyes narrowed. "You remain loyal to me Ulrich, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Then we have no more to say."
¤¤
Erik stared out the barn door at the light breaking in the sky. The destrier nudged him and he picked up the wooden bucket and poured water into the horse's trough. He ran the brush over the horse's hindquarters slowly, listening, casually dropping his other hand to the knife at his hip.
"How fares my lady Iliana and your work for me?" Mandrak asked from behind him.
Erik ran the heel of his palm across his borrowed mount's jaw, then turned around. The shadows half concealed the dark figure standing in the stable corner, but then he stepped from the shadows. Erik had been aware for some time that he was being observed, but he had waited to see what transpired.
Casually sliding his dagger back into its crude sheath, Erik turned fully to face Mandrak, one brow raised. The man looked rough, dressed in tattered dark clothing and short boots. Beyond him Erik saw his horse, its poor head hanging to the ground, blood flecked foam along its mouth.
"Your horse looks run to death. Man, have you no notion how to treat an animal?"
Mandrak laughed. "Yea, I've been riding all day. I need a fresh horse. I will take one of the mounts from this stable. I would have killed the worthless horse but he at least got me here. Look at the part I play," he said. "Peasant's garb stolen for a good cause, surely. I am quite unnoticeable, would you not agree?" He jerked his head back toward the horse. "Even my horse is a borrowed nag and quite unremarkable. There is nothing to make me memorable. A perfect situation when moving about the countryside."
"Do you know what happened to the girl Agnes?" Erik asked, watching the man closely.
Mandrak shrugged. "There was one you could have had for the picking."
"So you did kill her?"
Mandrak snapped, "A serving girl -- so what? You sound concerned. Do not become overly comfortable, pretender, for you shall not be here overlong. I grow weary of sleeping in the damp forest." Abruptly, his voice changed. "Now tell me how you progress in the search for the gem?"
"I have not won her confidence yet," Erik said impassively.
"How can that be?" Mandrak demanded.
"She does not remember that time aboard my ship."
"Are you lying?" Mandrak asked, clearly furious. "How could she not remember?" Then he narrowed his eyes. "It might be a trick."
"Maybe, but until I can gain her confidence, I have to be careful."
"Yes, this is unexpected -- but she is not unduly suspicious?"
Dryly, Erik said, "She is suspicious of someone arriving whose presence threatens to take her land and people. She was not excessively welcoming. Nor does she have any warm feelings for you."
Mandrak laughed. "It is to be expected, considering the past."
"You said you needed the gem to save this world and your own, but the longer I am here, the more I doubt it's the truth."
"This world's future is tied to my world. Without one there is no other."
"And yet you think nothing of killing these people."
Mandrak shrugged. "That is not really your concern."
"I consider it my concern."
"But it is not," Mandrak said sharply. "Do as you are bid or your men will suffer the consequences."
"I never forget my men," Erik said harshly. "Are my men alive?"
"As long as you cooperate."
Erik clenched his jaw, his fist pressed against his thigh.
"You must find a way to move this along," Mandrak said. "There is only so much time before Iliana discovers there is no infighting in the queen's court, nor are there skirmishes in the countryside. My men waylay all travelers, but the risk of discovery grows greater with each day. The only thing in favor is this keep is more isolated than others."
"I can't force Iliana to trust me."
"Lie -- threaten, do whatever you must to find that gem."
"I will not threaten innocent people."
"Use the child."
"You're a bastard."
"So I have been told." His smile vanished. "Lady Iliana's men kept you at bay when you arrived?"
Erik laughed with genuine amusement, he could not do otherwise. "Is that what you were told?"
Mandrak stepped closer, very little evidence of amusement upon his face. "You accuse my man of lying to me?"
"It was my lady Iliana who kept your men at bay."
Mandrak's brows rose in disbelief. He uttered a short laugh. "You jest, of course. My men are seasoned warriors, paid mercenaries. A woman would have no chance --"
"She is skilled in sword play."
Mandrak laughed heartily. "I have heard you give my men a fine sport in the training yard." The other man eyed him speculatively. "Perhaps a time will come we shall see who is better at this game of warfare."
"I do not play at war," Erik said dismissively.
"There may come a time when you change your mind."
"I doubt it."
Mandrak paced several times while Erik watched him. He came to a stop. "I could change my course. Perhaps I need to visit the lady Iliana myself."
Clenching his fists, Erik said, "Stay away from her."
"I give the orders, pretender. Never forget."
Erik caught the flash of steel. Mandrak's knife caught his arm but he quickly grabbed the other man's wrist before the knife found his ribs. He shoved him back so he hit the stable wall, shaking the entire structure.
"You are crazy," Erik said, holding his arm to his stomach. "Do you think she will go anywhere near the gem if she thinks you watch her?"
Mandrak came to his feet. "You may be right, but do not try to tell me what to do, and should you mislead me, I will slaughter your crew -- and you if your usefulness comes to an end."
Gritting his teeth, Erik patted the destrier's nose as the animal nudged him.
"And do not make him soft," Mandrak snapped. "You pat and pamper him, he will be useless."
"Or you will gain his trust and he will take you far."
Mandrak walked back outside to the horse he had ridden and jerked the animal forward. "If I had wanted to kill you, it would be done." He mounted and disappeared into the shadows of the yard.
Erik grimaced as his arm pained him and he experienced a moment of lightheadedness. He walked to the stable door as Edward entered the stable. Seeing the blood on Erik's arm, Edward rushed forward.
"I am fine, lad. Can you put my horse in his stall?"
Edward led the animal inside to secure him in his stall.
Erik noticed a small linen pouch almost buried in the dirt and reached for it. He studied it curiously, the painstaking stitches which kept a small flap closed. Rubbing it between his fingers he realized there was something inside.
"What goes on here?"
Erik turned to face Ulrich and pushed the small pouch into his belt.
Ulrich stared at him suspiciously. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig," he said grimly.
"Thank you for bringing that to my attention."
Ulrich went into the stable and then came out and thrust a wad of linen strips toward him.
"Thank you." Erik shoved his sleeve up and quickly wound the strips around his arm, trying to
stem the flow of blood.
Edward came from the stalls, skirted Ulrich and came to Erik's side. "My lord, Sorenta can give you a healing lotion. I will go find her."
"Thanks lad," Erik said, and turned to Ulrich when the lad ran off.
Ulrich moved closer. "You stir his anger and it can become very dangerous," he said in a low voice. "He grows more dangerous with each passing day."
"And yet you ride with him."
"In these times, all manner of alliances are formed," muttered Ulrich. "I am a mercenary."
Erik looked at him. "You knew he was here." Erik ripped what remained of the sleeve from his tunic.
"I know all the comings and goings," Ulrich said gruffly. "But there is naught I can do to interfere in what is the sorcerer's business."
Erik lifted a brow. "There may well come a time when you have to choose a side," he said softly, and left Ulrich to ponder his words.
¤¤
Iliana stoked the fire in the hall before the morning light stole over the hills. She became aware of a shadow as someone moved across the hall, bumped into a stool and then muttered a soft curse. She lifted the iron rod from the hot coals of the fire pit and stood, holding the rod before her as she turned toward whoever lurked on the far side of the great room. "Who is there?" she asked loudly. "Show yourself."
"Iliana." Erik's deep voice came from the shadows. "Edward was unable to find Sorenta."
"And why do you need to find Sorenta?" She reached for a candle on the table and lit the wick in the fire. Erik held his arm against his stomach. As soon as she saw the blood soaked cloth she dropped the iron rod onto the hearth stone and hurried forward.
"What have you done?" She urged him toward the meager light.
"A flesh wound," he admitted. "I will have some of Sorenta's potions and it will be right as rain on the morrow."
Iliana made a disgusted sound as she carefully unbound the blood soaked linen strips. "It is already the morrow and it certainly does not look right as rain." She hooked a stool with her toe and nudged it to the fire pit. "Sit down."
He did not comply at once and she glared at him. He smiled at her.
Iliana narrowed her eyes. "You are drunk."
He shook his head, but his eyes danced in the meager light. "I don't think you can get drunk on that foul tasting cider Thomas brews in the cellars."
Iliana pressed her lips together to keep back a smile, knowing Thomas' reputation in that regard. "Sit."
"He makes a much better carpenter," Erik remarked, sitting on the stool and staring up at her.
Iliana sucked in her breath as she looked at the nasty wound along his forearm. "Did you get drunk and incite a fight?"
He looked at her, one brow raised indignantly. "No, my lady." He grinned. "The cider was to dull the pain."
Iliana heated water in a small pot over the fire pit, but looked back at him now. She cleaned the wound then retrieved Sorenta's medicinal powder from the basket she kept in the hall. "This must be changed every day and kept very clean." She leaned over him as she worked the healing powder into the wound. Despite his slightly inebriated state, his scent was more the brisk outdoors than the sour smell of cider and ale. Her gaze locked with his, and an uncomfortable heat began to brew within her stomach. "I also have several gemstones which will aid in healing," she said abruptly. "I will wrap them in linen and you must sleep with them at night."
"And will these gemstones keep me warm in this drafty hall?" he asked with humor.
Iliana stared at his face so close to hers. He sat very still, and if he had moved to imprison her within his arms, she could easily have tipped him backwards on his stool. She blinked warily, her palm now on his chest. A man well made, handsome despite his many scars and with a smile that promised delights both wicked and tantalizing. Deep in her heart something softened.
Iliana had walked a lonely path for many years, but now she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Although a light touch, it made her wish for more.
He came to his feet and as he did so something fell to the floor.
Iliana looked down at the small pouch lying at the base of the hearth. Slowly, she bent and lifted it, then looked at him.
"Do you know what that is?" he asked.
"Yes." A cold, hard knot clutched her stomach where moments before desire had curled.
"What is it?" he asked.
Iliana grabbed a knife from the table, quickly slashed the pouch and tipped the contents onto her palm. In the firelight the small emerald chips winked and seemed to have a life of their own.
She bit back an overwhelming disappointment, her throat thick with emotion. "This gem pouch belonged to my maid Agnes, the girl who was murdered."
She saw the understanding on his face and Iliana felt sick. "Leave."
He said not a word but left as she had bid him to do.
Iliana put her arms around her waist, staring at the flaming logs, sick at heart where moments before she rejoiced. How could she have let her guard down?
Chapter Seven
Iliana hurried across the courtyard, hoping to catch one of the serving girls before they left for the fair. Slipping through the postern door, she saw Rowenna and waved at the young girl.
"Rowenna," she called. The girl hesitated, then looked back, her deep vermillion costume standing out from the others.
"Yes, my lady?" Her freckled face lit with a smile as she walked back toward her.
Iliana held up her arm, displaying the ribbons in her hand.
"I have a small favor I would ask of you, Rowenna. Could you see that the children receive these ribbons?"
Rowenna's smile faltered, her face became grave. "My lady, such grand ribbons. Do you not attend the festivities?"
Iliana forced a smile, then admitted, "I think it would be best if I did not."
Rowenna looked worried, her brows knit. Finally, she blurted, "My lady, no one blames you for Agnes' death."
Iliana felt a coldness clutch at her insides.
"'Tis true," whispered the young girl. She moved her face closer to Iliana's. Iliana could see each of the fine blond hairs of the young girl's brows and lashes.
Rowenna lowered her voice, "Her death was meant to frighten us, but we won't give up hope that things will get better."
Warmth replaced the coldness in Iliana. Despite the grip of fear she'd been under, she managed a laugh. "Rowenna, if only I had your certainty. I have heard that many have already fled."
"Some have fled, that is true, but many still believe in you, my lady. Please," softly, her hand touched Iliana's sleeve, "I beg of you, please come to the fair. And what of little William? He will delight in the treats of the fair. You will be sore missed if you do not."
Iliana was touched. "Thank you. I will think on it. I would still ask that you give the children the ribbons."
"I shall be pleased to do so." Shyly, the young Rowenna whispered, "I thank you again for this beautiful costume." Curtseying, the young girl then ran to catch up with her friends, the colorful ribbons tucked into her belt.
"Iliana."
Catching her breath, Iliana whirled to see Erik, the softness in her eyes unguarded. Quickly, she erected her guard once more and shoved one hand into the double belt of her tunic where she had stuffed Agnes' small pouch, a reminder of unanswered questions. She thought of the feel of his lips and then angrily banished that thought.
He studied her. "I understand there is to be a celebration today?"
"Yes." Iliana walked back into the courtyard.
"I would be pleased if you would let me escort you."
Iliana lifted a brow. "I think not."
A large hand on her arm made her stumble to a halt. "We may as well have this out," he said. "I found that pouch, Iliana, near the stables. It lay there on the ground."
"Of course," she said coldly, pulling her arm from his grasp. "And you innocently came upon it."
"Yes," he said as she walked away.
In truth, Iliana felt torn
. In the short time he had been here, he had not shown any signs of cruelty or lying that she could prove. In fact, quite the opposite -- she had heard of how he'd saved the pregnant woman from being struck down the day of his arrival, and he had enforced an order that the men were to sleep outside at night, thereby keeping her serving girls safe from their unwanted attention at night. What if she was wrong to persist in this hatred of him? What if he spoke the truth? And yet Agnes still lay dead.
Iliana felt torn. She remembered the words in the sacred circle. How could he be involved in her search for the green gem?
"There is nothing I can do to prove my innocence," he said.
Iliana sighed with frustration. "I wish --"
"What?"
"I wish my life tapestry would show me the truth, but all I see are shadows."
"I would not trust a tapestry to show me how my life should begin and end." And it was he who turned and walked away this time.
Iliana gripped her hands together. Quickly, she followed him. "I did not plan to attend the fair," she said stiffly. "So there is no need for you to trouble yourself."
He smiled gently. "I assure you it is no trouble to escort a beautiful young lady to a fair."
Iliana could not help but notice the way the breeze lifted the fine blond hair from his shoulders.
"And who better to show me the fair other than yourself?" he queried quite reasonably.
She frowned, her fingers clutching the small pouch. Could she find out more by spending time with him? "Perhaps I could find a few moments this afternoon," she said reluctantly.
He nodded. "That is settled then. We shall go together." He fell into step beside her. "Why was there so much activity early this morn? I swear all the young ladies were out before the sun was up."
"There is a belief that on May Day one should wash one's face in the new morning dew. It is said to have magical powers."
"I did not see you among the maidens." His voice held a hint of a smile.
Frowning, Iliana conceded the man confounded her with his gentle humor. "I was busy with other matters," she said briskly.
"What could be more important than being happy and acting in accord with the celebration?"
"I had to see to the cleaning of the bedchambers and that new rushes were put in place in the dining hall."
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