Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  She closed her eyes, laying her head against his shoulder. "I promise."

  Jilliana lost all sense of time as his mouth moved up her neck, toyed with her ear and brushed her lips. His hands moved over her swollen breasts and she nestled against him. The love she had so newly confessed made her ache for total fulfillment.

  He dipped his head and covered her lips with a searing kiss. Jilliana had not realized that they had stopped. Ruyen lifted her from the horse and carried her down a path.

  The night was magical, and with a full moon hanging in the sky, it seemed almost like daytime. Thousands of stars twinkled against an ebony background while flirtatious fireflies were carried on the evening breeze. The melodic sound of some exotic night bird sweetened the air, and somewhere in the distance Jilliana could hear the sound of rushing water.

  "Are we almost there?" she asked breathlessly as he paused to taste her tempting lips once more.

  He lowered her until her feet almost touched the ground, but with strong hands pressed her to his body. "We have arrived," he said against her lips.

  She turned and watched, entranced by a rushing stream that glistened like silver. "It's lovely—almost magical."

  He turned her to face him. "You make it magical."

  Their mouths met and fused. Slowly their bodies drifted downward onto the sweet summer grass, the wonderful aroma enhanced by wild clover.

  "I love you, Jilliana," he said, holding her as gently as he would the most fragile flower.

  "And I love you," she answered, her eyes glowing as if lit by hundreds of candles.

  He gently traced the outline of her face with his thumb. "You do know that this may be the last night we can ever have together?"

  Sadness filled her heart as she nodded her head. "Yes, I know."

  His hand drifted into her hair and he pulled her forward. "I will make this a night you will never forget. I will always remember you as you are now, with the starlight in your eyes and moonbeams reflecting off your hair."

  She took his face between her hands and a sob broke from her lips. "Every night of my life, when I am alone in my bed, I shall relive this moment with you."

  "Jilliana, some people have a lifetime together and never know love. We are fortunate, we have only one night, but a lifetime of love."

  There were softly murmured words, gentle caresses, lips that hungrily sought reassurance, but created only an aching need. Ruyen slowly and deliberately undressed her, savoring each moment, then she did the same for him.

  At last they stood before each other in all their naked glory. He held his arms out to her and she seemed to float to him.

  Suddenly touching was not enough. Hot passion flowed between them, fusing and molding them into one body, one mind, one love.

  Hardly able to control his passion, Ruyen spread her legs and plunged into her, but remembering the baby that was nourished there, he gentled his movements.

  "No one has ever loved as deeply as I, Ruyen," she breathed in his ear.

  He could not speak for the pain her words caused him. He felt tears fill his eyes, and was unashamed because of the deep love they shared.

  "My heart, my love," he murmured. "Time is our only enemy."

  Her face was wet with tears, and he gently kissed them away. They rode the waves of passion. Intoxicating pressure was building inside Jilliana, and she cried out when her body experienced glorious pleasure.

  Throughout the night they lay beside each other, sometimes talking softly and often their minds meeting in silence. Jilliana did not want to fall asleep because she did not want to miss one moment of this time with Ruyen. But just before dawn, she drifted off, while he held her cradled in his arms, his lips pressed against her sweet-smelling hair.

  The sun was still below the horizon when Ruyen kissed her awake. She stretched and wound her arms about his neck.

  "Why did you let me sleep?"

  He smiled. "I like watching you. You are beautiful." He gathered her in his arms. "Can you swim?"

  "Of course not."

  He laughed as he waded into the water while she clung to his neck. "Then you will just have to trust me."

  Lovingly, she pressed her cheek to his. "I trust you with my life."

  As the sparkling water washed over them, they laughed, splashed, and played like two children just discovering life. Then the sun lit the sky with its golden light and Jilliana became silent, for their time was nearing its end.

  Without a word, Ruyen took her hand and led her out of the water. Gently, he helped her dress and then dressed himself.

  His eyes were soft as he looked at her. "It is time for us to leave."

  "How can I bear it?" she asked.

  "You must."

  "What about my men, and what about Netta. I cannot leave without them."

  "Jilliana, I will do what I can to help them. But you must leave today. You promised."

  She lowered her head, praying she would not cry. "I will keep my word."

  There, with the morning mist covering the land and the sun spiraling through the branches of the tall trees, they embraced.

  "Oh, Ruyen, we wasted so much time fighting each other. If only ... if only—"

  Jilliana never finished what she was about to say. Loud voices called out and horses snorted and reared about them. They were surrounded by Queen Melesant's soldiers!

  Ruyen pushed Jilliana behind him and lunged for his sword that lay just out of reach.

  "Hold, Your Highness," Escobar said, his eyes darting up and down with excitement. "Do not make me give the order to end your life."

  "Bastard!" Ruyen cried as he gripped the handle of his sword. Rolling to his feet, he stood before Jilliana. "Your fight is with me. Let her go, and I'll accompany you peacefully."

  Escobar laughed and his cold lusterless eyes moved over Jilliana in appreciation of her beauty. "I think not, Your Highness. Your mother has asked that I bring you both to her."

  With a loud cry, Ruyen ran at Escobar, brandishing his sword.

  "Stop him!" the Castilian cried. "Do not let him get to me!"

  Jilliana cried out, reaching for Ruyen. She screamed as arrows tore through his body and he fell backward into the sea.

  She ran to him, pulling and dragging him from the blood-colored water. "Ruyen," she cried, lacing her fingers through his. "What have they done to you!"

  He had been struck by three arrows, and the front of his jerkin was covered with blood. His eyes were so sad as he looked at her. "My dearest love, do not cry… remember me ... and tell our bab—"

  His head fell sideways and he went limp. Pressing her lips to his, she stood slowly, facing the man who was responsible for Ruyen's death.

  "You will die for this," she said past the sob that was building in her throat.

  Escobar looked frightened, not of Queen Jilliana, but because Queen Melesant might very well take his life for killing her son.

  With a booted foot, he turned Ruyen over, staring at him for a long time to make certain he was not breathing. "Bring him along later," he said to one of his men. "Give me time to explain to the queen."

  Jilliana slumped forward into a shadowy world of blackness. She did not want to live in a world without Ruyen.

  29

  Queen Eleanor, surrounded by her ladies, listened to the young minstrel play the lute and sing about her days of glory. In irritation, she held up her hand for the singer to stop.

  "I want no more morose songs about the past. I want happy songs. Ladies, dance, laugh, be merry."

  So saying, she left the gallery, indicating that she wanted to be alone.

  These days her prison was becoming too hard to bear. Perhaps it was because Jilliana was no longer with her. The girl had given her a purpose and allowed her to strike out at Henry from her walled prison.

  Life no longer held challenge or meaning. The days were too empty, the nights too long.

  When she reached her sanctuary, away from the others, she leaned her head against the win
dow and looked out at the bleakness of the day.

  "Your Majesty."

  Eleanor looked up at her maid. "Have I a letter from Richard?"

  "Nay, Your Majesty, but there is something quite odd, that I think you might want to know about."

  "What can that be?"

  "I was below in the kitchen arranging your tea tray when two men came to the door. They looked to be beggars, and cook, being soft-hearted, offered them bread and admonished them to be on their way. And what do you think?"

  Eleanor looked indifferent. "You tell me."

  "One of the men said he must get a message to Queen Eleanor."

  "Why should I listen to a beggar?"

  The maid's voice rose with excitement. "Your Majesty, he said he had come from your ward."

  "I have no war—" There was the merest shimmer of hope in her eyes. "What else did this person say?"

  "The one man said that he was from Talshamar, and I believed him."

  "Where is he?" Excitement was growing within Eleanor. "Bring him to me at once."

  "I was certain you would want to see them. They are just outside the door."

  Eleanor was poised and regal when the two men entered. They stood several paces from her while she looked them over. They merely looked like beggars to her, and none too clean either.

  "Which of you said he was from Talshamar?"

  Sir Edward bowed. "Tis I, Your Majesty. I am Sir Edward, one of the knights who accompanied Queen Jilliana to London and then on to Falcon Bruine."

  "Why then are you not with Jilliana now? Why do you come seeking bread at my door?"

  "Your Majesty, terrible trouble befell my queen. I know not if she is alive or dead."

  Eleanor motioned the man closer so she could watch his eyes as he spoke. She could usually discern when someone was speaking the truth.

  "Why say you this, Sir Edward, if that is your true name?"

  "A small number of us accompanied the queen to Falcon Bruine." He dropped to one knee and lowered his head. "I feel such shame. It was my duty to keep the queen safe. I have not done so."

  "What has happened to Jilliana?"

  "Her Majesty has been locked in her chamber and is not allowed to leave. Queen Melesant plans to keep her there until she has the baby."

  "What is this? Did you say that Queen Jilliana is with child?"

  "Aye, Majesty. We were preparing for our homeward voyage when we were set upon by Queen Melesant's soldiers. Some of our men were slain and others taken to the dungeon."

  She read truth in his earnest eyes. "Stand up, Sir Edward, and tell me what happened to Humphrey."

  "I am told that he is one of those in the dungeon. I did not see him among my slain countrymen so I believe it to be true."

  "You appear to be a resourceful young knight. How is it that you escaped when the others were killed or captured?"

  "I was wounded and left for dead. Had it not been for Princess Cassandra and Rob Gilbert, here, I would surely have died."

  Eleanor restlessly moved up and down the floor she had paced so many times in the past. She was wondering why Queen Melesant had so brazenly committed such an offense. With her quick mind, she finally understood and shook her head.

  "The Castilian queen believes that she can control Talshamar if she takes Jilliana's baby. To control Talshamar, Jilliana would have to be dead, and that I shall never allow. A plague on Melesant—from the devil she came, from the devil she will return!"

  "But what can we do, Your Majesty?"

  "Do not look so dejected, sir knight," Eleanor said with confidence. "I have defeated more able opponents than that silly queen. She is no match for me."

  "But, Madame, you are a prisoner."

  Eleanor laughed softly. "You have given me purpose just when I thought I would die if I had to spend another day listening to my silly ladies chattering and gossiping. Ameria, escort these men to a room and prepare a bath. Sir Edward, you shall dine with me tonight and we will plan our stratagem."

  Sir Edward had heard much about Eleanor and most of it bad. After today, he would be her most staunch defender if anyone tried to defame her name. Cassandra had been right to send him here, for Queen Eleanor had readily agreed to help him.

  Cassandra flattened her body against the wall, listening to her mother rage at Escobar. "You fool! You killed my son, and for this you shall pay!"

  "He tried to kill me, Majesty. What could I do?"

  "Ruyen was a better man than you will ever be. Do you believe I would trade my son's life for yours? Never!"

  Cassandra pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out in pain. Ruyen dead, how could that be! She swallowed a sob and turned her attention back to her mother.

  Melesant's fingers curled into tight fists as she spent her fury on Escobar. "You dared to take it upon yourself to harm my son!"

  He had never seen her so enraged, and he moved quickly out of her reach. "I saw no other recourse. I had to stop him. He had betrayed you."

  "You are a little man," Melesant said contemptuously, "and little men have little thoughts. Do you think I could not have controlled my own son? Have I not done so before?"

  "Yes, Majesty." Escobar cringed as she vented her fury on him. "What would you have me do?"

  "You have already set events in motion that cannot be stopped." She advanced on him and he drew back. Although she did not raise her voice, he flinched. "When next you decide that you can dictate policy on Falcon Bruine, that is the day I send you back to Castile minus your head!"

  "Yes, Majesty."

  "Get from my sight. I no longer want to look upon you."

  "Yes, Majesty."

  "Go!"

  Escobar scurried out the door, passing Cassandra without seeing her. When she entered the room, Cassandra found her mother slumped in her chair, her eyes filled with tears.

  Cassandra knew that for her own safety, she must play the innocent fool. "Why are you sad, Mother?"

  Melesant stiffened her back. "I have sad tidings, daughter. Your brother has been ... is dead."

  Cassandra clutched her hands, trying not to cry. "But how could such a thing happen?"

  "Does it matter? He's dead."

  The pain was almost too great for Cassandra to bear. "I…want to see his body."

  Melesant dabbed at her eyes. "His body was taken away so no one would make a martyr out of him. I'll soon bring this rebellion under control."

  "I want to see my brother's body," Cassandra insisted.

  "Silly girl, I told you no one will know where he is buried. I have had him laid to rest in secret."

  Anger choked Cassandra. Her mother was an unfeeling monster, and she wanted to confront her and accuse her of causing Ruyen's death. It might have been by Escobar's command, but it was her mother's doing none the less.

  Instead, Cassandra moved to the door, her head lowered, as if in prayer. Her mother saw her as no threat, therefore her movements were not restricted. She would go now to the village and question the people. Surely someone knew where Ruyen had been buried.

  All was quiet in the huntsman's cabin deep in the woods. Outside the cabin, armed men waited, their faces careworn, their swords at hand should trouble come.

  Sir Piermont stood over his wounded prince, his aged face furrowed with worry. Prince Ruyen's wounds were deep but he was still alive, and the old knight prayed he would recover. He turned to his squire. "No one but those of us who are gathered here must know that Prince Ruyen is alive. We must guard this secret with our lives."

  The huntsman's wife, Mert, spooned foul-tasting medicine into Ruyen's mouth, and he shoved her hand away, groaning.

  "It was luck that you found the prince when you did, or he would have died from his wounds. As it is, he may die still, but at least he has a chance," Mert said.

  "It was not luck that led us to the prince in his need," Sir Piermont told her. "We followed three of Escobar's foreign soldiers into the woods, knowing they were up to no good. We overheard them say th
at the queen had ordered her son buried in an unmarked grave. Now those Castilians occupy the grave they dug for our prince."

  Ruyen was fighting his way out of a dense fog and he called out to Jilliana. His mind was filled with torment because his reckless actions had only prolonged her suffering and she was once more his mother's prisoner.

  "I must save her," he said weakly. He tried to rise, only to have persistent hands restrain him.

  He recognized Sir Piermont's voice. "You must not move, Your Highness. Your wounds are severe. You must rest and grow stronger before you can help anyone."

  The chill of the room made Ruyen shiver, and though he fought to remain conscious, he finally gave up his struggle and surrendered to the blackness that engulfed him.

  "There," the old woman said in satisfaction. "He'll sleep through the night"

  Melesant stormed into Jilliana's chamber to find her lying on the bed, her eyes swollen from crying and dull with pain. She was obviously grieving over Ruyen, and that nettled Melesant.

  "Did you think you could escape me?" she raged. "You have not lived long enough to battle me and win."

  Jilliana eased herself off the bed and stood defiantly before Ruyen's mother. "You must be in torment knowing you caused the death of your own son."

  Melesant moved around the bed and stood at the window. "When one is placed in power, there are many things one must do that are distasteful." She shrugged. "I would much rather my son were alive, but he knew the risks if he defied me."

  "Ruyen would rather have died with honor than live with dishonor."

  Melesant whipped her head around and her eyes gleamed with hatred. "You think you knew him so well. If you had not muddled his brain with your soft ways and swaying hips, I could have won him to my side."

  "Ruyen was most concerned for the people of this island. Even if I had not been here, he would have warred against you, and he would have won because he had the loyalty of the islanders."

  "Little good it did him."

  "I pity you, Melesant. You killed the best part of you when you killed your son."