Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series
Page 45
She and Mara came ‘round the bend in the steep path and saw us standing near the outermost wall. Arianna’s smile died slowly as she met my eyes, searching them.
“Nicodimus, whatever is wrong? You look troubled.”
I was troubled. For just an instant the thought had occurred to me that perhaps I could learn to love the girl. Could be her husband in the way she dreamed I would be.
And yet, I could not. I was a hunted man. More Dark Ones sought my heart than that of any other immortal, so far as I knew. Nidaba was older and more powerful, yes, but she’d lived so discreetly that few knew of her existence. My heart was the prize many Dark Witches sought. Two in particular, who had made it the mission of their endless lives to put an end to mine. Arianna would be in constant danger at my side.
Beyond that, I knew I was incapable of loving her. My heart was far too wounded to produce the tender emotion in any real quantity. Ironic, I thought, that a heart so damaged could be so prized by so many.
Frowning slightly, Arianna came closer, her small hands touching my cheeks. “My love, you are pale. Are you taking ill?”
My stomach clenched tight as the endearment fell from her lips. I glanced sideways, but Nidaba only stood in silence. “Arianna, you mustn’t call me that,” I said at last.
“And just why not? ‘Tis what you are, and our weddin’ day is on the morrow. Aye, sure and you might as well get used to it.”
I closed my eyes. Such a stubborn girl. A smile tugged at my lips. “Aye, sure and I might as well,” I said softly, imitating her beautiful speech.
“Is it teasin’ me you like then?” she asked, stepping back a bit, hands going to her hips, eyes flashing with mischief.
There was, I realized, very little about Arianna that I disliked. “I wasn’t teasing, little cat. How goes the sewing, hmm?” I fell into step beside her, with her mother on the other side of her, and Nidaba walking along at my other side. We moved beside the blackberry briars that lined this side of the keep’s outer wall. They blossomed just now, and their scents were heady and sweet.
Arianna shot Nidaba a sidelong glance, and smiled. “Nidaba has gifted me with the most wondrous material, and the gown is perfect, as you will soon enough see.”
Any gown would be perfect if she were wearing it, I thought. We circled the keep, moving past the cobbled well, toward the gates. I paused, as a tiny shiver of warning skittered over my nape. What...?
“I’ll wear flowers in my hair,” Arianna was saying. “And there will be such revelry afterward! Joseph has been more than generous, an’ he has the cooks hard at work already . . . .
As she went on, I glanced up, caught Nidaba’s eye. She nodded just once, almost imperceptibly.
She felt it, too, then. The truly ancient among us could sense when another was nearby. And I sensed it now. Lifting my head, I scanned the horizon. But saw no one. Nothing.
“There will be barrels an’ barrels of heather ale,” Arianna was saying. “An’ roast boar, venison, beef, an’ mutton. Pastries to savor. Wine will flow, and fruits spill over. ‘Twill be so . . . so . . . .” She was looking more and more curiously from me, to Nidaba, and back again. “What is wrong with you two? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”
Snapping out of my state, I gripped Arianna’s elbow in my hand. “Come, let’s get you inside,” I said, leading her and her mother through the gates, and across the courtyard toward the keep. I looked about as we moved among the men there, checking each face, but seeing only clansmen.
“But I dinna understand,” Arianna protested. “What is it?”
“Do you not feel the rain coming, Arianna?” Nidaba asked, her tone unconvincing. “The air grows damp.”
“You’d not wish to take a chill on the day before your wedding, now would you?” I asked her.
“You both be addled! ‘Tis a lovely day!”
“Now, daughter, dinna argue with your bridegroom,” her mother chided, but she, too, looked unconvinced.
I simply kept moving until Arianna and her mother were safely inside the keep. It was happening; the one thing I feared above all else. One of the Dark Ones had finally found me here–traced me to my only haven. Gods forgive me if I had brought disaster upon this peaceful village. Upon my friends. Upon my woman.
My woman.
Gods, why had I allowed myself to think of her that way?
When we entered the keep, Arianna turned to face me, her eyes no longer filled with mischief or joy, but that deep wisdom she was too young to possess. “A word, Nicodimus, in private.”
Eager to be away, I nodded all the same, and sent a glance to Nidaba. She quickly excused herself, and Mara muttered something and vanished toward the kitchens.
“All right then,” Arianna said softly. She came close to me, gripped my hand in both of hers. “I ken something is wrong. An’ I can plainly see you’re hidin’ it. Now, tell me what it is.”
Not for anything would I have spoiled the day to come for her with worries such as those plaguing me now. Gently, I stroked her hair with my free hand, as if I could soothe her the way I could soothe Black when he grew agitated or afraid. “Nothing is wrong,” I told her. “Truly.”
Tilting her head to one side, she searched my face with her velvety eyes. “Why are you lyin’ to me, Nicodimus?”
Drawing a deep breath, sighing, I lowered my head. “All right. It’s . . . sometimes, Arianna, I get . . . feelings. This, I know you understand.”
Her eyes widening with interest, she nodded. “Aye, I do. The Crones taught me to trust those feelings, never to doubt them.”
“And good advice it was,” I told her. “Out on the path just now, I had the feeling that . . . that we were being watched.”
Arianna frowned, nodding sagely. “Aye, I’ve had the same feelin’ once or twice today, myself.” She looked up into my eyes, worry clouding hers. “Who do you suppose it could be?”
She was too young to have such a sense of other immortals, I thought. But then again, she always knew when I was near, didn’t she? Amazing.
“I do not know,” I said, and it was only partially a lie. True, I didn’t know who, but I damned well knew what sort of creature was watching us. “But I intend to find out.”
Her eyes were narrow upon me. “You think this person . . . could be a danger to us?”
She saw too much, read me far too well for me to lie to her easily. “I don’t know. Perhaps. I cannot tell you because I’m not even fully certain myself. I am going to ask you trust me in this matter.”
Nodding, she lifted her head again. “I do trust you, Nicodimus.”
“Then please, Arianna, stay here tonight. Your family as well.”
Blinking in surprise, she nodded. “Aye, Nicodimus. All you had to do was tell me the truth. If you fear there is danger, then I believe you. I will never doubt your word . . . so long as you speak the truth.”
I very nearly smiled at that. Would have, had I not been nearly sick with worry. “Will you always know, Arianna, when I am not speaking the truth?”
“Only when you are as obvious as you were this time,” she said. She smiled at me, and I knew I was forgiven.
“I shall go and fetch my father,” she said softly, closing one hand around mine and squeezing. “We’ll pack up our things for the wedding tomorrow, and–”
“No, Arianna. Let me go for him. It will be for the best.” I started to tug free of her grip.
She held me fast. “You truly do sense danger, dinna you, love?” She searched my face. “Is there danger to you waiting outside these walls as well then?”
I looked her squarely in the eyes. “No, Arianna. I will be perfectly safe.” Gently I tugged my hand free and headed for the door, even as her eyes narrowed on me. And I think she knew, once again, that I had not been honest with her.
* * * *
GNAWING AT HER lip and pacing the great hall did nothing to alleviate Arianna’s worry, which seemed to intensify the moment the doors closed on Nicodimus’s
strong back. She recalled again the wisdom of The Crones. Never mistrust your feelings, lassie. They be the core of your womanhood. The voice of your heart.
Nicodimus was in danger.
Arianna stood a bit straighter, feeling a jolt of protectiveness surge through her so powerfully she felt as if she grew inches taller. Her chin thrust outward, she headed for the doors, pausing only once on the way, just long enough to glance behind her. But Nidaba was nowhere in sight, nor was her mother, nor any of the others, save a handful of servants spreading fresh rushes over the floor. She was more grateful than anyone would ever know for the privacy.
She ran a hand over her hip, and felt the reassuring lump there, where her dagger was strapped. Then she drew her shawl closer and slipped away. Nicodimus was her man. She would be damned if she would stand by and let any harm come to him.
She crept, following on foot, ducking behind trees and bushes and any cover to be had, for she knew too well that Nicodimus would be furious if he saw her.
He did exactly as he had said he would. Rode to her home, fetched her father, and settling both Edwyn and the satchel he’d rapidly packed atop Black, Nicodimus led the stallion back to the keep gates. All this she witnessed from a spot high on the hilltop between the keep itself and the village proper, just at the edge of the woods, hidden amidst the trees.
But her husband-to-be did not go into the keep with his future father-in-law. Instead, he saw Edwyn through the gates, then remounted his noble Black and turned. He came toward Arianna, riding slowly, eyes narrow and scanning the horizon, peering into every clump of shrubbery in search of the watcher.
Arianna cringed backward farther, unable to believe she could hide from so piercing a gaze. But even as he rode slowly nearer, she forgot to fear discovery. For another shape rose up behind him. Another man, mounted upon a horse as pale as death.
Her eyes widening, she stepped out of her hiding place, and shouted a warning. But instead of heeding her, Nicodimus continued toward her, obviously surprised and displeased to see her there, and unaware of the danger coming upon him from behind. The white horse began to run, its rider a fearsome brute of a man, all swathed in a black cloak that covered his colors, did he wear them. His face was hidden behind a beaked black helm that completely covered his head. The reddish-brown tail of some unfortunate animal flew from the spiked top of the helm, like a banner. He thundered on, swinging a spiked mace in deadly circles. Arianna lunged forward, drawing her blade, even knowing she could never reach the man before he reached Nicodimus.
The mace flew directly at Nicodimus’s head. But nothing happened. Eyes widening in shock, biting her knuckles to silence the cry that leapt to her lips, Arianna shook her head in confusion. Nicodimus had dropped low, over the side of his mount, just as the weapon came at him. Gods, he must have known all along.
Leaning low, he continued riding toward her, and when he swooped down upon her, he snatched her right off her feet, and settled her safely in front of him. One arm held her tightly to his chest, and he whirled his mount around, even as the other man thundered closer. Nicodimus continued to cradle her protectively with one arm as with his other hand he jerked a leather covered shield from the saddle, holding it before her.
The black-helmed stranger drew his pale horse to a stop, but the animal danced and pawed impatiently. Black tossed his head, shook his mane, and blew his angry retort.
“Who are you?” Nicodimus demanded. “What do you want of me?”
“You know what I want,” was the answer, spoken so softly and yet so chillingly it sent shivers up Arianna’s spine.
“I’ve no quarrel with you.”
“The Dark and the Light live in constant conflict, Nicodimus. It is the way of things, with our kind.”
Arianna turned to stare up at Nicodimus’s face, but she saw no fear there.
“Then you know my name. You have me at a disadvantage.”
There was a nod. Then the mask’s beakish point seemed to aim her way. “Is this the latest leman, then? Or is she to be a replacement for the wife you stole away from her family and murdered?”
Arianna’s breath caught in her throat. “W-wife?”
“Do not dare to speak of my wife,” Nicodimus said, and he sounded even more dangerous than the other. “Or I’ll kill you here and now.”
“If you think you can.”
“I know I can.” He reached to his hip, hand closing on a weapon there, a dagger or blade. “And do not be so certain that the helm you wear hides your face from me. When your words tell me who you must be.” He started to lift his weapon, but then he went still, looking down into Arianna’s eyes, and she knew her tears showed. “I’ll not do this. Not here. Not now. This woman and her clan are no part of our conflict.”
“Perhaps you’re right. About the village,” he said. “As to the woman . . . . once I’ve cut out your heart, Nicodimus, she’ll be mine to do with as I please. To the victor go the spoils, or so I was once told.”
Nicodimus narrowed his eyes. “Show me your face, coward, that I might know which of my two oldest enemies I am going to have to kill.”
“Not just yet I think. We’ll meet again, Nicodimus. We’ll meet again.” He nodded toward Arianna. “As will you and I, pretty one.”
She cringed closer to Nicodimus’s chest, even as the man whirled his mount and thundered away. Pale hooves sent tufts of sod in their wake and left deep scars in the ground. Then Arianna turned into Nicodimus’s arms as the full brunt of shock and fear finally hit her.
He clutched her shoulders, shook her gently as he stared into her eyes. “Why must you disobey? You could have been killed, Arianna! For the love of–”
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice firm, even if her eyes were damp. “I should never have come out here armed only with my dagger. My Goddess, what help could I have been to you with only that for a weapon? I ought to have found swords, a mace like the masked man carried, a lance–”
Nicodimus stared at her, opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again and shook his head. “I believe, Arianna, you’re missing the point.”
But she wasn’t. “What did he mean, Nicodimus? About a wife you stole, an’ murdered? What was he talkin’ about?”
He dropped his gaze and looked away. “Come, let’s get you back to the castle where you’ll be safe.”
“I’ll go nowhere until you tell me. I know you have secrets you will not share, Nicodimus. But surely even a man as secretive as you would see a previous marriage as something he should discuss with his bride.”
He held on tight to her waist, and nudged the horse into a trot. “It was a long time ago, Arianna.”
“And you stole her from her family?”
“I rescued her from a den of brutes who beat her and treated her as their slave.”
“He said you murdered her.”
He looked down at her sharply. “No doubt he sees it that way.” Then his throat moved convulsively as he wrenched his eyes away. “Sometimes, I do as well. It is true enough. Anya died trying to give birth to my daughter. So I suppose it could be said she died at my hand, yes.”
“Nicodimus, nay!” Arianna pressed her hands to his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Nay, my love, you must never say such a thing. Never.” Frowning at the pain that he tried so hard to keep hidden behind his eyes, Arianna forced away her own. “My Goddess, you loved her, dinna you?”
His mouth taut, he gave a curt nod. “Yes. I loved her.”
“And that is why, then. That is why you canna love me. Your heart belongs to another. Gone she may be, but alive within your soul.” Lowering her head, she relaxed against him, eyes falling closed. “I understand now. I’m sorry for you, Nicodimus. So sorry. For I know your pain all too well.”
“Arianna. . . .”
She lifted a hand, pressed a forefinger to his lips. “Say nothing, love. There is nothing to say. You canna deny what you felt for her, no more than I would ask you to. I understand, now. I do, I vow it.”
“‘Tis only the shock, Nicodimus. The fellow frightened me well and clear to my bones. Next time he’ll nay catch me so unprepared. Let him threaten you again, and he’ll find himself skewered on my blade.”
She dared peer up at him. Saw his lips curve a little. “You must promise never to disobey me this way again, Arianna. That man is a trained warrior.”
“Aye. You know who he is.”
He nodded. “One of Anya’s two brothers, Marten or Kohl. I cannot be sure which of them. But either is as deadly as the other, and each is a danger to you, Arianna.”
“I can learn to fight.”
“He would kill you without a second thought.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “He would kill you, Arianna. And I would not be able to live with that. So promise me you’ll stay out of my battles. Let me fight them on my own. I’m very capable, you know.”
She looked at him steadily. “That man will come back. He wants to kill you.”
“I’m not going to let him do that, Arianna. But it’s my battle. His and mine, and you are no part of it.”
“He made me a part of it when he said what he did.”
“Listen to me.” He held her closer, harder, and a certain fierceness came into his eyes. “I will never let him touch you. I swear it to you, Arianna. You are safe with me.”
Smiling slightly, she stroked a hand over his cheek. “Aye,” she whispered. “You do care just a little.”
Averting his eyes, he dropped a very chaste kiss upon her forehead. “More than is wise,” he muttered, and kicked the horse into a gallop.
* * * *
HER WEDDING DAY dawned clear and bright, like a new promise, and Arianna welcomed it. Her mother frowned at her when she refused to break her fast but didn’t argue. For once, it seemed, she understood. Arianna felt no more capable of eating than of coherent thought. She paced the spacious chamber assigned to her, until her mother went down to break her own fast and Nidaba came in her place.