by Sherry Ewing
“I know not what you speak of, damsel. I wish you no ill will, but I cannot in all good conscience help you save your soul. Only God can forgive you of your sins whilst you were here on earth. You must atone for your sins to Him.”
“You don’t understand…” the ghost began, but Riorden held up his hand to halt any further words.
“Aye, you have that aright. I do not understand any of the past two days, nor do I wish to. I just want my life to return to the hellish circumstances put afore me of late that I must needs attend to. Those, I can comprehend and deal with, but not this...this absurdity with visions of ghosts, playing tricks inside my head. I say this to you again…be gone fair maiden, and may you rest in peace!”
She nodded her head, as if she finally understood his words to leave him be. But ’twas the tears coursing down her cheeks and the look of grief in her eyes that made him realize he had erred in not trying further to help her cause. He took a step forwards, but ’twas too late to offer her what solace he might afford her. He could already feel her slipping from his side.
She slowly backed away from him. “Oh God…I don’t even know your name,” she sobbed across his mind, and was gone.
“Katherine!” Riorden rasped out, for he felt an unfamiliar loneliness creep upon him as she vanished, yet again, afore his eyes. For one brief instant, when he had watched her crying, he had felt a connection to another he never thought would find him again. Her disappearance left him feeling bereft and out of sorts. Confused with his inner thoughts, he could only stand there in a daze. At least, he could tell himself he knew her name. Merde…what had he done?
* * *
Katherine could only stare at the vacant space where, but a moment before, stood her knight; arrogant, suspicious knight that he was. She supposed she could not blame him, given the centuries separating them. She gave the briefest of glances down to the sand, hoping against hope she would see some evidence of his footprints, or that of his horse’s. Of course, that wasn’t to be. Although it saddened her, she had seen him with her waking eyes and knew, at some point in time, he existed. She smiled brightly. He had actually called her name, before disappearing from her view. Her heart filled with endless joy, knowing he knew who she was. They were connected. She had known it all along. All she wanted to do now was find out who he was and what part of history he belonged in!
She heard her friends calling out to her, their voices carried on the ocean wind. They hurried up the beach to her side as if something was wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Are you alright?” Juliana asked in concern. “We saw you stumble and fall.”
“Was it a pesky bee?” pried Brianna with a grimace as she swatted at a fly. “I hate bugs; such nasty things.”
“Ugh, and the germs they carry,” Emily added as she reached inside her purse for her ever present bottle of hand sanitizer.
“Ladies, I must ask for your help with a bit of research,” Katherine proposed with a smile. “I know this is our vacation and all, but it’s important. If we could find the local library, I would appreciate anything you could dig up on the castle and its inhabitants over the centuries.”
Katherine was amused as she watched her friends’ facial expressions change from skepticism, to thinking her downright crazy, and then to hope while she told them of her knight. For if there was one thing the four of them were good at, it was research.
Katherine was determined to find out answers of who this man, who continued to haunt her dreams and now her waking hours, was. She must find out his name, right away, before her stay at Bamburgh was over. And time, unfortunately, was not on her side.
Chapter 6
The amount of history behind Bamburgh Castle, a fortification dating back to 547 AD, was staggering. It was no small wonder Katherine had a major migraine. Her friends had been relentless in their questions to somehow narrow down the time period her knight had lived. Since she could only give the description of the fire breathing dragon on his tabard, there wasn’t much to go by. Even the lion’s head from her dreams had given them no further clue as to who the man was. She was about to throw in the towel and call this a lost cause. Still…something nagged at her to keep on her quest to find her answers.
She stood, stretching her arms above her, and looked down at the bent heads of her sisters of her heart, while they continued perusing various books. She was surprised their pens still held any ink, since they had all been scribbling furiously across pads of paper for hours, or so it seemed. And yet, like the good troopers they were, they continued searching on her behalf. She couldn’t ask for a better bunch of friends.
“You guys are the best, but I think I need a break,” Katherine said quietly, so as not to disturb the other people sitting nearby. “Anyone want to come with me up to the castle?”
Emily rose. “I’ll go. I’d hate for you to use your hands and knees to crawl up some turret just because you felt the need to get to the top. You’d never make it without me.”
“Jewels? Brie? Do you want to come?” Katherine asked.
“You two go ahead. I’m on a roll here,” Brianna said, returning to what she had been reading.
Juliana only mumbled something that sounded as if she’d stay put, too, so Katherine and Emily hopped in the car and drove the short distance up to the car park at Bamburgh. A bus load of tourists were disembarking from their vehicle at the same time they arrived, and Katherine got lost in the rush of mankind. Their conversations became a whirl as they busily talked and bumped into one another to get the best view. All the while, their cameras clicked and flashed. Katherine rolled her eyes. Tourists! Even though she was one of them herself, at least she wasn’t obnoxious about it. She was getting tired of people rudely pushing her out of their way.
Emily saw her dilemma, since she could basically see over most people’s heads, and took the lead, grabbing Katherine by the arm and ushering her through the throng of people. She gave Katherine a look that clearly had only one meaning.
“Thanks Em, but I’m afraid I’m not going to be growing taller anytime soon,” Katherine laughed.
“You’re such a short little pan−”.
“Don’t you dare finish that word,” Katherine threatened, only causing Emily to roar aloud with elation.
“Come on, Katie. Let’s see where you take us today.”
To be honest, Katherine wasn’t sure where she wanted to go and had no particular direction in mind. They’d been on the tour already and had seen the archaeological dig that was an ongoing project by the current owners of the castle. And they’d been in the courtyard of the keep where they’d seen several cheerful newlyweds getting married. That, of course, only caused them to mutter to themselves how they hated seeing happy couples everywhere they went.
“Let’s go down to the armory. Maybe something there will pique our interest,” Katherine suggested.
As they made their way to the lower floor, they were surprised to see that, for the most part, they were relatively alone. While they were looking at the detail of a glass encased suit of armor, most likely from the thirteenth century, a door at the far end of the room opened. They watched a man take off his glasses and proceed up the stairs, polishing something in a rag he held in his hand.
Katherine felt as if someone actually gave her a nudge. Her feet started moving in the direction of the partially open door. It was a welcoming invitation if she ever saw one. Looking to the left and then to her right, it appeared no one was bothering to pay much attention to her.
“Come on, Emily,” Katherine whispered as she put her hand on the door knob.
“Are you crazy, Katie? We could get into so much trouble!”
“Shh, Em. I don’t know why, but I’ve got to see what’s inside this room.”
“Geez Katie…we’re going to end up in the gaol and thrown out of the country,” Emily whispered emphatically, through clenched teeth.
Katherine opened the wooden door, expecting to hear an alarm sound o
ff. But there were no bells or whistles ringing loudly to warn of intruders. Peeking inside the room only gave evidence of it being empty of other human beings. Quietly closing the door behind them, Katherine came rapidly to the conclusion the room was climate controlled when she heard the soft buzz of machines sucking the humidity from the air.
They made their way inside and admired the rare treasures before their eyes. It was a veritable goldmine of history at their fingertips. Armor, weaponry, arrowheads, period clothing, historic vases, and dinnerware were all within their reach, if they but cared to touch such rare artifacts, or at least those that were not enclosed in a protective case. They resisted the urge, knowing even one touch from the oil contained in their hands would deteriorate the fragile materials of such historic artifacts.
It was an ever so enticing invitation, but they put their hands in their pockets instead, just in case they couldn’t help but give into the impulse. Temptation surrounded them with every turn they made. As they wandered around the room, they could only stare in speechless wonder at everything their eyes beheld. Katherine gave a sigh of pure pleasure to be able to view such a magnificent collection, most likely too fragile and valuable to be on display for the public.
Reaching the center of the room, she felt compelled to turn to her left. A painting of considerable size rested against a large easel, and Katherine had the notion that the gentleman who had left the chamber was in the process of restoring the artwork. Her feet moved without her even realizing she was walking as she made her way to see what was inside the golden frame. Once she stood before the canvas, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her breath left her. Her heart surely stopped beating. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she fell upon them onto the cold stone floor. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks in recognition of who was in the portrait.
It was him…standing there with Warkworth Castle in the backdrop. It was the same castle that had reduced her to tears only days ago. The artist, whoever he had been, had captured him to perfection, especially his incredible eyes. Katherine felt that she could drown in those eyes if she were allowed to gaze at him in the flesh. He was dressed as he had been in her dream, with the lion head on his surcoat. He held a sword in front of him, its tip gracing the earth. His hands rested one atop the other on the golden hilt, adorned by a large, sapphire stone that was obviously of some worth. His hair blew gently in the breeze, and one could tell by looking at his expression in this portrait that he had been none too pleased to have had to stand still for its painting. He portrayed enough pure, raw energy to knock her off her feet, and in essence he already had, given that she was kneeling on the floor.
As she continued staring at his portrait, she wondered what in the world he had been staring at, for the look on his face practically scorched her with passion. What had held his interested? Suddenly, the room became exceedingly hot. It seemed as if her knight was actually pulling her through time to be with him.
Katherine…come back to me, my love.
Her eyes widened to once again hear those haunting words inside her head. It was as if he was calling out to her and asking her to do the impossible. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her body began to shake all over. She sensed she was actually standing there next to him, even to the point of feeling the soft breeze ruffling her hair. She felt heat radiating from his body as desire coursed through her, knowing he was within reach. Merciful heavens, he was close enough to touch.
She watched in vivid fascination when his grin began to widen, and he held out his hand for her to take. Her own fingers began to tingle in anticipation of that very first touch. A gasp escaped her, and she knew a part of her dream was about to become a reality. She blinked, just to clear her vision from the tears threatening to fall down her checks. But that was a mistake, for she ruined everything by doing so.
Suddenly, she became disoriented, when she was unwillingly ripped back to the present as if she was being tossed about in the turbulent whitecaps of the sea. Wavering on her knees, air rushed back into her lungs while a feeling of desolation at what she had lost consumed her.
A high pitched whistle rent the air. “Wow!” Emily declared, just as stunned at what she, too, was witnessing. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, really.”
“You don’t look it. Your face is all pale.”
She couldn’t reply even if she wanted to. Instead, Katherine leaned forward, searching for a name plate, and discovered it was missing. Her legs wobbled when she finally managed to make it to her feet, and she reached out to turn the frame around.
“Don’t touch that,” a man’s voice called sharply, halting her progress.
He came into full view of the room, and Katherine wondered if he had perhaps been watching them for some time. He must have noticed her tears, since he reached into his jacket and proceeded to hand her a handkerchief. She stared at it oddly, thinking to herself, who carries a hankie with them anymore?
“Thank you,” she said softly, as Emily reached over to steady her.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I know. I really have no excuse why we’re here. It’s really not a habit of mine to go barging into rooms I shouldn’t enter. This may sound really crazy, but I felt I just had to come inside, and now I know why,” Katherine said as she returned her gaze to stare at her knight.
“Thought maybe you were out to steal something. That’s generally the case when someone’s caught pilfering the coffers, so to speak,” he gave a brief laugh at his own joke. “Names Simon.”
“I’m Katherine, and this is Emily.”
“Pleasure. So...you’re interested in my friend here?” he asked, apparently still leery that they were out to steal an object held in this room.
“Do you know him? You know his name?” Katherine asked, almost pleading with him to share what information he knew.
Simon watched her for a few moments before he gave her a smile. “Yes, of course, I know who he is.” He proceeded to open the cloth he had been holding and went to work re-installing the missing nameplate into the frame.
Katherine stood there, fidgeting and willing Simon to finish his work quickly so she could at last know her knight’s name. It seemed like an eternity before he was satisfied and finally stood. Katherine tried to look around him, but he stayed in front of the portrait, blocking her view.
“You know, I have to ask. What’s so interesting about a twelfth century portrait of a man most people don’t even remember or care about these days? Why would two young American women risk going to jail just to have a glimpse of my friend here?” Simon questioned as he pointed behind him to the painting.
Katherine and Emily both looked to the other, and Emily shrugged her shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe it if we told you,” Katherine said.
“Give me a try. I have a very active imagination.”
“I’m not sure where to start,” Katherine replied honestly.
Simon looked at them both again and shrugged before he turned his attention and stared directly at Katherine, who began to squirm under his intense stare.
“Maybe it will help if I tell you a bit of castle lore,” he began, and, from their silence, he decided to continue. “It’s said, the castle is haunted by several ghosts, who I’m sure you already know about, since it’s pretty much common knowledge. What you may not know, however, is that it’s said a particular knight has been haunting these walls for centuries, searching for a woman he lost,” he explained, pausing in his story to look again at Katherine. Putting his hand to his chin, he continued his examination of her as his eyes raked her from head to toe. “You fit the description, especially given the many women who have come in contact with him over the years with similar looks. There is no proof, of course, they spoke the truth of what they saw. There never is in the case of a ghost.”
Emily pulled the castle brochure out of her purse and scanned it quickly. “There’s nothing here about a knight haunting Bambu
rgh.”
Simon seemed suddenly ill at ease with Emily’s observation. “Well, we tend to keep that story out of the press as much as possible. Some women have run screaming from the place when they’ve encountered him. He tends to be somewhat ornery that he can’t find her, or so I’ve been told.”
Katherine tried to look around the obnoxious man, but Simon still wouldn’t move out of her way. She sighed and stared him directly in the face. “That can’t be good for business.”
“Precisely why we don’t want to advertise it, not that that hasn’t stopped all the ghost hunters from trying to get actual proof he exists. But still, he has been known to roam the passageways from time to time. It’s obvious he hasn’t as yet found whoever he is looking for.”
“May I?” Katherine whispered. Simon at long last stood aside so she could view the name of the man from her dreams.
She had to admit she had a hard time focusing on the golden metal and had to wipe her eyes several times before it finally came into focus. But there, directly before her vision, were the words she had longed to know, etched lovingly in a beautiful Edwardian script: Riorden de Deveraux, Earl of Warkworth. She raised her head heaven bound in gratitude she now at last knew his identity. Riorden…his name caressed her mind as if he had touched her himself and in its knowing, she looked into those beautiful blue eyes once more, felt the world spin around her, and promptly passed out cold.
Chapter 7
Riorden, Aiden, and Patrick entered the Great Hall in the midst of complete disorder. From the amount of cleaning and scurrying the servants were doing, ’twas clear King Henry would soon take up residence in the keep. He came here often since its construction several years prior, and it was generally where he preferred to reside. Furniture was in the process of being moved, and it appeared they would be in the way, unless they retired to their chambers. He was bumped into by a servant, who muttered a hasty apology, afore she began assisting with the rushes to be cleared out, along with the muck that had accumulated underneath the filthy straw.
