Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  "Nay, Your Highness, have no fear of me. I'll not harm the man. My name is Rob Gilbert and I will help you. You know my father. He is the forester and his cottage is in the woods. I shall take this Talshamarian there."

  "How can I trust you not to go to my mother?"

  "I give you my pledge that I will not do that."

  She nodded, having no choice in the matter. "Why are you here?"

  "Because Queen Jilliana asked me to see that her men were properly buried."

  "You have seen her? She is well?"

  "Yes, Highness. But if we are to save her knight, we must hasten. I will bring a cart to carry the bodies out of the castle and convince the guards that I am taking them to the church graveyard. Pray that I can convince the guard and thus sneak this man past him."

  Hope rose within Cassandra's heart. "Yes, do—please hurry."

  She turned back to look at the ashen face of the man she loved. "I will come to your father's cottage tonight and treat his wounds."

  Cassandra was frightened and she wished that her brother was there to help her. It would not be easy to go against her mother, but someone had to.

  "Ruyen, where are you?" she cried. "I need you to tell me what to do."

  26

  Cassandra walked along, leading a packhorse, a dark-hooded cloak covering her hair and shading her face. She hunched her shoulders as she neared the gatekeeper. When he waved her through, thinking she was a villager, she hurried in the direction of the woods.

  Night was almost upon her and she hoped she would not lose her way.

  "Your Highness," someone called to her.

  Cassandra was relieved to see Rob Gilbert just ahead.

  "I have been watching for you, Highness, so I could lead you safely through the woods."

  She was grateful for his assistance, for in truth she had dreaded the dark woods. "How fares Sir Edward?"

  "My father has dressed his wounds, and while deep, they are not of a dangerous nature."

  "Think you we can trust your father not to account to my mother?"

  "Aye. My father served your father faithfully. His loyalty is now to Prince Ruyen, the rightful king."

  Cassandra nodded in satisfaction. "Then take me to Sir Edward at once."

  They moved down the twisted path and deep inside the woods. At last Cassandra could see a faint light in the distance. When they reached the cottage, Rob Gilbert opened the door and waited for her to enter.

  She recognized his father, William, and nodded at him. "How is your patient?"

  William pulled a curtain aside, and to Cassandra's relief, she saw that Sir Edward was sitting upright on a straw pallet, while a woman she thought to be Rob's mother spooned thin broth into his mouth.

  He quickly came to his knees, his eyes burning with challenge. "I warn you," Sir Edward threatened, "I shall not be taken alive."

  "You need not be concerned, Sir Edward, you are with friends. I have come to help you."

  "I trust not anyone of the Rondache family," he said bitterly.

  William Gilbert stepped forward, placing a restraining hand on Sir Edward's shoulder. "I'll not have you insulting Her Highness, when it was her that seen you was brought to us. She's saved your life."

  "We have no time for distrust," Cassandra said, handing Sir Edward a pouch.

  The knight looked at the princess as if seeing her for the first time. She had thrown off the hood of her cape, and her raven-black hair glistened in the soft light that came from the one lantern in the cottage. Her features were so soft, and so evenly placed that he was sure she must be an angel sent to earth to guide him.

  "The pouch contains all the gold I could obtain to aid you on your flight, less the amount I gave a ship's captain to take you away from Falcon Bruine. Do you think you are strong enough to sit a horse?"

  Sir Edward stood with the aid of Rob Gilbert, but he still felt weak. "I must get to my queen."

  "You cannot help her. You are but one. She is being kept prisoner by my mother. But Jilliana is in no danger until she has given birth to the baby since my mother is interested only in the child."

  When Sir Edward took a step, he stumbled and would have fallen had not Rob steadied him.

  "You must be well enough to travel. It is not safe for you to remain here," Cassandra said, going to him and touching his forehead, then nodding in satisfaction when she discovered he had no fever.

  "It grieves me to leave my queen."

  "You can better help her if you do as I tell you. You must go to Salisbury Castle and seek Queen Eleanor's aid."

  "Queen Eleanor cannot even help herself, how can she help my queen?"

  "Jilliana trusts her above all others—she has told me this. If she trusts the English queen, there must be a reason. Go to her."

  Sir Edward was struck by the intelligence of this young girl. He noticed how fiery her eyes had become as she spoke to him. She was not a girl, but a brave young woman with a loyal heart.

  "When does the ship leave?" he asked, heartened by her calm assurance.

  "Soon. Rob will go with you and see you safely on board."

  "Pardon, Your Highness," Rob said, smiling. "I have never left the island, but have always wanted to. I will accompany Sir Edward, if you will allow it."

  Relief showed on her face. "Aye, he has need of you. You will have my gratitude for your devotion."

  Sir Edward stood up straight, managing to keep his balance, and trying not to think about the pain. "I will not fail in my duty."

  "You must not," Cassandra said. "Jilliana's life may depend on your success."

  "Let us leave now," Sir Edward stated firmly.

  Cassandra nodded. "Rob, you should skirt the village, and draw as little attention as possible. Have you clothing for Sir Edward?"

  Rob studied the man for a moment. "Aye, we are of the same height; he can wear my clothing."

  It was but a short time later that Cassandra watched Rob help Sir Edward onto the back of a horse. She rushed forward when he slumped over.

  "You are too ill to travel." There was distress in her voice as she touched his shoulder. "If only Ruyen were here, he would know what to do."

  "Why is he not here, can you tell me this?"

  "Civil war is about to erupt between my mother's followers and those who are loyal to my brother. I fear your queen has been caught in the middle."

  Sir Edward straightened, and placed his hand on her silken head.

  "Do not distress yourself, and have no fear for me. I will rest once on board the ship, and be healed before I stand before Queen Eleanor."

  "I do not know how you will gain entrance to her castle since it is guarded. But you must find a way."

  He brought her close to him, his lips brushing against hers. "I shall see her, and I shall return, my angel. Will you be waiting for me?"

  In wonder, Cassandra reached up and touched her lips, her heart thumping against her breasts. "I shall be waiting."

  Jilliana languished in her chamber, seeing only the queen's servants. She had heard nothing of the fate of Humphrey and the others. At first she hoped that Ruyen would relent and come to release her, but as the hours passed, that hope diminished.

  She had thought him noble and honorable, but he was not. He was no better than his devious mother, and had intended all along to betray her.

  Thus far she had refused to eat. She sent word to Melesant that not one morsel of food would pass her lips until her men were released from the dungeon and she was allowed to leave Falcon Bruine.

  A battle of wills developed between Queen Jilliana and Queen Melesant. Jilliana was prepared to give her life and that of her unborn child to gain freedom for her men.

  She heard someone at the door and turned her face weakly in that direction. Escobar Hernandez slid the bolt aside, entering without knocking, a smug smile on his thin lips.

  Jilliana weakly eased herself to a sitting position and glared at the odious man. "I did not invite you into my chamber. Leave at once!"


  He gave her a disparaging glance. "I am sure you would rather talk to me than Queen Melesant. She is not as understanding as I."

  "I want my maid with me now!"

  He poised his hand and gave her a malevolent smile. "Only the queen decides that."

  "Return to your queen and tell her that 1 do not care to speak to underlings."

  Escobar's eyes hardened. "You will talk to me or no one."

  "Then it is no one."

  He pulled up a stool and sat beside her. "You must see reason. The queen has asked that—"

  Jilliana moved off the bed and walked to the window, as if dismissing him. She was so weak she feared she might faint, so she gripped the window ledge, leaning heavily against the wall.

  "Her Majesty wants you to eat. She has authorized me to tell you that the kitchen will prepare you any delicacy you desire."

  Jilliana still did not acknowledge his presence, presenting him with her back.

  She could hear his exasperated sigh. "You will talk to me sooner or later."

  She faced him now, her head tilted high. "Minister, tell your queen that I refuse to eat."

  "She won't like it."

  "I can imagine that. It would be difficult for her to explain to Henry how I starved to death on the Isle of Falcon Bruine. He will be most displeased when Talshamar passes to French rule. Remind Queen Melesant that the motto on my family's escutcheon is Before dishonor, death. Also remind her, underling, that my mother died by that creed, as will I."

  Escobar was not adept at hiding his feelings. His neck and face stained a deep red. "You would not do this. Think of the child."

  "I will speak no more to you, sycophant. Take my message to your taskmaster."

  Escobar wrenched the door open, angrily locking it on the other side. He had hoped he would be the one to induce Queen Jilliana to eat, thus endearing himself to Melesant once more.

  In his dealings with the Talshamarians, he was finding them to be far too arrogant for his liking. He had little doubt that this woman would starve herself just as she threatened.

  With misgivings, Melesant watched Escobar approach. "You saw Jilliana?"

  "Aye, but she is a stubborn wench. I like her not."

  "I am certain that she feels the same sentiment for you, Escobar."

  "She refuses to eat. She's ready to die, sacrificing the child she carries unless you release her men and allow them all to leave."

  Melesant turned around, her robe flaring out about her, her face a mask of rage. "I will not have it, I tell you. I will not! She will obey me!"

  "I think she won't."

  "What do you know, little man?" Melesant cried, taking out her anger on him. "You, who were born a commoner, cannot possibly understand someone born to the purple."

  He could have reminded her that she was not of royal blood either, but he dared not. He knew she envied and hated the young queen because she had been born to rule.

  "I know of nothing you can do to make her eat."

  Melesant paced back and forth. "I have to think. There has to be a way. I must have the baby, or all is lost."

  "She's asked for her servant. Perhaps that woman could entice her to eat."

  "You do not know these Talshamarians, if you believe that. It's more likely that the woman would die with her mistress just to foil me." She raised her fists toward the ceiling and shook them. "I detest all Talshamarians!"

  Escobar took several quick steps backward. "We could slay her men. That might make her yield."

  Melesant looked at him with surprise. "Excellent! You have come upon the very thing that may well defeat her."

  He blinked, not understanding. But the queen was pleased with him and that was all that mattered.

  "Escobar, think you she will oppose me if I threaten the lives of her men?" Her eyes gleamed with pleasure. "I would enjoy cutting the heart out of the man Humphrey myself."

  Melesant threw open the door to Jilliana's chamber and entered with a flourish, anger showing in every jerky step she took.

  Jilliana weakly stood, holding on to the bedpost for support. "I wondered how long it would be before you came, Melesant."

  "Then you know why I am here."

  Jilliana faced her, unafraid. "Allow my men to go free and I will willingly stay on Falcon Bruine."

  "You will remain, willing or not." Melesant pushed Jilliana back on the bed and stood over her. "Heed my words, Queen of Talshamar. I have been informed that you are not eating. If you do not eat, your men will suffer for your willfulness."

  Jilliana rolled to the other side of the bed and stood once more. "What do you mean?"

  "Just this. For every meal you miss, one of your men will miss a finger ... and I shall start with your watchdog, Humphrey."

  Jilliana's face paled. "You would not dare do such a foul deed. It is inhuman!"

  "Oh, I will do it right enough. I seldom make idle threats. I shall have your maid bring you anything you want to eat. If you refuse, try to imagine Lord Baldridge's screams as his fingers are lopped off. Think about this: if you miss three meals, he loses three fingers."

  Jilliana felt the room spin and she eased herself back on the bed. "I will eat. Please do not harm my men."

  Melesant laughed triumphantly. "I admire you more than ever, because you are not too proud to admit when you are beaten."

  Jilliana wanted to lie down, but she did not want Ruyen's mother to see how weak she felt. "I find no shame in relenting to save those I care about."

  Melesant turned away in satisfaction. No matter how Jilliana tried to hide it, she was in torment, and that brought her great satisfaction. She left abruptly, slamming and bolting the door behind her.

  Jilliana dropped her head in her hands, trying to gather her shattered thoughts.

  Now the tears that she had held back swam in her eyes. She sobbed until the last remnant of her strength was spent.

  Her situation was desperate. There was no hope for her or her baby. She was the prisoner of a madwoman!

  27

  Ruyen arrived at his father's hunting lodge, hoping for the peace and tranquility he had often found there in the past. Today, however, that tranquility eluded him.

  Chaos raged across the island, and his people were suffering. They needed his direction, but how could he help them when he was floundering himself? Someone had to stop his mother, and it must be him. But he could not do it without the support of the people. Would they follow him and take up arms against their queen? More importantly, could he destroy his own mother?

  He took the path that led up a steep incline and stood atop the cliff that jutted out over the sea, offering a magnificent view of the island.

  To his left, he could see the Talshamarian ship far out at sea, its crimson sails weaving in the harsh breeze. That ship took Jilliana away and he would never see her again.

  Well, good riddance to her. She had been nothing but trouble to him since their first meeting. She did not need anyone. That woman would always be in command of her own fate, and if life did not conform to her expectations, she would merely find a way to bend the circumstances to her will.

  An intense sea breeze cooled his face as his thoughts turned once more to Falcon Bruine and the troubles that faced him. He glanced back at the lodge, remembering happier days when he had hunted with his father. They had ridden over the green hills in pursuit of stag and boar. But because of his mother, those days were gone forever.

  In defiance, he tossed a stone into the sea and watched it skip across the waves and drop into the churning tide. He took the path that led down to the sea and walked along the beach, his footsteps leaving imprints in the sand that soon disappeared in the ebbing tide.

  A fine spray of water dampened his face and it seemed to clear his mind. He knew what Jilliana would do if anyone threatened the peace of Talshamar. She would gather her forces and dispatch the Judas, and that is what he must do. Ruyen smiled reminiscently. Jilliana was glorious, there was no doubt that no woman, l
iving or dead, could equal her in tenacity.

  He suddenly stood stock-still. When had he begun to love Jilliana? Had it been that first day when she stood before Henry, defying him so courageously—or had it been the first night he had taken her body to his? He blinked his eyes as his mind cleared even more. How could he have allowed her to leave without telling her how he felt? She was his wife, and if he lived through this war, by God, there would be no annulment!

  He climbed back up the cliff with determination. When he reached the hunting lodge, an awesome sight met his eyes. It seemed that the whole village had gathered there. He looked from one familiar face to another, and the men, women, and children bowed to him as he walked slowly among them.

  "Why gather you here?" he asked of no one in particular.

  An older knight stepped forward. It was Sir Piermont, whose son Byran had died fighting beside Ruyen in England. The man's care-worn face was pale with age, but his dark eyes were alive with the light of rebellion.

  "I knew your son well," Ruyen said. "He was a valiant soldier, who brought pride to his family's name."

  "That he did, Your Highness. And if he were here today, like the rest of us, he would offer you his sword arm, his loyalty, and his life," the old knight said.

  Ruyen was overwhelmed by such devotion, for he had not expected it. As the moments passed, the number of people continued to swell. Knights, peasants, and villagers stood together united in a common cause—to fight beside the man they considered their rightful king.

  Ruyen was quiet for a long moment as he chose his words carefully. "Know you all who stand within the sound of my voice that civil war is the ugliest of all wars, for we shall be fighting against many of our own countrymen, even our own families."

  "We have thought of this," Sir Piermont told him, "but nothing could be worse than the conditions we are forced to endure at the hands of the Castilians. Yes, and those of Falcon Bruine who have turned against us to side with our enemies."

  "There will be great casualties," Ruyen warned.

  "There are casualties every day from starvation because of the high taxes imposed on us," a woman called out, and the multitude murmured their agreement with her.