by Sherry Ewing
For weeks they had searched for Katherine and had come up with nothing. Nothing! That was ’til that fateful day when he had ridden the river’s edge and had espied her shoe. He had surmised how she may have possibly tumbled down the embankment after most likely falling from her horse. And he had leapt from Beast’s back, only to find himself sitting there in the mud, scanning for further signs that she had survived. The swift flowing current had confirmed his worst fears she would in no way return to his side.
Nathaniel and Ulrick had found him still sitting there hours later. There were no words of comfort they could have offered him, for he had lost the one person who would ever complete him. He had given up hope that day that she would be able to return to him. Although he had not ever remembered consuming more than a few sips of wine or whiskey, he must have drunken far more than he realized, for he had been drunk ever since.
After that fateful day, his dreams had begun, dreams of her coming to him as a ghost. Night after night, he awaited sleep to overtake him, knowing that at least whilst he dreamt she could be at his side. Breathlessly, he waited each night for when he would pass out, just so he could envision her smiling up at him with her beautiful eyes and all the love she held for him reflected there, as well. He thought only on her words to him that she loved him. Any other message was of no consequence.
Riorden slammed the keep door and made his way into the great hall. “Whiskey!” he yelled, but there was no one to come and give in to his request with the exception of Marguerite, who was breaking her fast.
Quickly, she glanced about the room then went to do his bidding. She came to his side and held out her offering. He grabbed it without hesitation and took a small swig, feeling it burn his throat as it slid its way to his empty stomach.
“At least someone will obey me,” Riorden muttered as he began to make his way towards the upper floor where he could retreat to his chamber.
“Riorden...let me help you,” Marguerite offered softly. Was that worry in her eyes as she gazed at him, or pity? He could not tell, but the last thing he needed was any form of empathy coming from Marguerite, of all people.
“There is no help for me. Now, leave me alone.”
He left her there and somehow managed the stairs. As he opened the door to his chamber, he was surprised to see Patrick inside, folding his garments into a neat pile.
“I have no need of you tidying up after me, boy,” Riorden slurred, “or anything else for that matter.”
“My lord?” Patrick squeaked with a hurt expression.
“I have no need of your services, Patrick.” Riorden reiterated, as if the lad was hard of hearing. He made his way across the room to fall into his chair by the fire, which took the chill from the room. ’Twas too bad that ’twould in no way melt the ice that was once more forming around his aching heart.
Patrick brought bread and cheese to put down on a small table within his reach, in case he felt the desire to actually attempt to eat something. “Have I offended you, my lord?”
Riorden raised his blood shot eyes to the youth. For a moment he saw so much of Aiden and Amiria in his features that it took him by surprise. He had failed the boy, as well, and he knew Dristan would be disappointed in him for not training the lad properly.
“Perhaps ’tis best if you return to Berwyck. I fear I am not up to the task to be a proper master to you, Patrick,” Riorden grumbled, taking another long pull of the fiery liquid.
“Ye canna mean that, my lord! Ye would send me home in disgrace? All would know that I had not performed my duties to ye!” Patrick’s Scottish brogue was coming out, and Riorden now listened as the boy began cursing in Gaelic.
“Leave me, Patrick,” Riorden ordered. “I wish to be alone.”
“Seems to me, you have been alone long enough,” Patrick proclaimed. He went to the door and, as if remembering himself, gave Riorden a low bow. “I take my leave of you then, my Lord de Deveraux.”
Riorden barely noticed the door closing behind the lad as he leaned his head back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he prayed for his dreams to take him away and back to Katherine’s side. ’Twas the only place that would bring him any form of comfort.
Chapter 25
Katherine halted her slow, forward steps to gaze up ahead, along the strand. It felt strange to be traveling in the light of day instead of hiding under the cover of darkness. She had lost count of the days or weeks they had been walking. Ella had taken such excellent care of her, and she was glad for the friendship they had formed between them.
Several times along their journey, they had hidden deep in the forest when there were signs that Katherine’s pursuers still continued their vigilant search of her. It became evident that they should hurry to their destination where safety would be found under the protection of Dristan of Berwyck. Unfortunately, Katherine’s feet didn’t agree with the assumption that they needed to hasten their journey.
“Have you ever seen anything more spectacular than Berwyck Castle?” Katherine breathed in the fresh ocean air and, for the first time, felt some small measure of hope fill her heart that all would right itself soon. She just needed to get inside the gates. Dristan and Amiria would take care of the rest.
Ella began muttering before she crossed herself. “’Tis only a castle, Katherine. We have passed many such fortifications on our journey here.”
Katherine was still impressed by the sheer size of the place. Situated high on a cliff with its rocky foundation, the keep rose majestically above the towers and other buildings within its guarded walls. High above, the standard of a fire breathing dragon flapped in the ocean breeze. They were almost there but would need to leave the beach and head inland just to reach the barbican gate before it closed for the night.
“Let’s try to pick up our pace, shall we?” Katherine suggested.
“Ha! ’Tis not been me that has been slowing us down, but I would just as soon put off passing through the gates of such a fearsome foe as the Devil’s Dragon,” Ella declared cautiously. “Is there no other dwelling that may see to your needs, besides this one?”
Katherine laughed for the first time in weeks. “Come on, you scaredy-cat. I promise Dristan won’t bite!”
“Aye, well, ’tis not the biting I am afraid of, but the burning, if you take my meaning.”
“Come on, Ella! Let’s be on our way.” For the first time in a long while, Katherine felt a weight being lifted from her shoulders.
Katherine linked her arm with Ella’s and they began making their way from the strand, following a narrow river. Crossing a bridge, they walked through the village where Katherine recognized familiar faces of villagers, who waved to her in greeting. Katherine kindly returned the gesture. Hawkers called out their wares, hoping she would purchase something, but she didn’t have any money, so she left them disappointed.
She continued onward until she stood before the barbican gate, where her footsteps faltered. For the life of her, she couldn’t seem to move, as memories of the last time she had past underneath its portcullis assaulted her senses. Briefly, she closed her eyes and relived when she had traveled in a beautiful carriage with her friends as Riorden rode by with a carefree smile and a wave in her direction. There had been such confidence in their plan to send her friends back to the future. How could she have known that months later everything she had come to cherish would fall apart so completely?
Raising her chin, she pressed forward and entered the outer bailey. She remembered everything about this place, and her eyes immediately went to the lists where she had spent so much time, running its perimeter. She was not surprised to see Dristan and his knights busily training. Since it was a daily activity, she knew this would be where she would find the lord and lady of the keep. They did not disappoint her.
Katherine tugged at Ella’s arm, and she settled her friend on a lone stone bench. Leaving her there, she went to the sidelines to await a moment to make her presence known. Before long, Amiria noticed her and threw her helmet
from her head as she ran to Katherine. From the worry she saw in Amiria’s eyes, Katherine surmised Amiria knew something was wrong, since she had shown up here without Riorden.
She felt Amiria’s arms encircle her, and it was as if the tears, which had somehow held her together through everything that had happened to her, finally broke free. She began sobbing uncontrollably in the younger woman’s arms. Amiria started to pull away, but her hand grazed Katherine’s stomach.
“You are with child?” Amiria whispered for Katherine’s ears alone, so as not to embarrass her.
“Yes.” It was the only word she could manage to get out through her tears until she saw Dristan approach. She dropped down into a curtsey. “My Lord Dristan,” she sobbed.
“Merde! What has happened that you arrive here unescorted?” Dristan demanded. “And where the hell is Riorden?”
Katherine only began to cry harder.
“Not now, Dristan,” Amiria said calmly. “Can you not see Katherine is distraught?”
“She is far more than distraught, wife! All and sundry can hear her caterwauling, clear to London and back.” Dristan fumed, but then recovered himself upon seeing Katherine cringe. “No offense, Katherine.” Though Dristan’s tone was calmer, he ran his hand through his hair in a manner so reminiscent of the gesture Riorden performed when he was frustrated that she threw her hands over her face.
“Shh, you oaf! You are not helping, Dristan,” Amiria scolded. “Men! They are so clueless sometimes.”
Katherine peeked at Amiria through her fingers and gave a small smile. Her analogy of men was so twenty-first century she forgot for a moment she was stuck more than eight hundred years in the past. “I’m sorry to be such a burden to you, but I had nowhere else to go where I thought I would be safe.”
“You are most welcome here, is that not right, Dristan?” Amiria gave Katherine a hug of reassurance.
Dristan gave her a small nod. “Our doors are always open to you and yours, Katherine.”
“You are both too kind. I have much to tell you,” Katherine stated and pointed to Ella, who stood, made her way to them, and gave a curtsey. Once the introductions were made, Katherine implored, “I hope Ella is welcome. If it wasn’t for her, I’m afraid I’d be floating at the bottom of a river.”
“What?” Dristan and Amiria stuttered at the same time.
“It’s a long story, and one best told behind the privacy of closed doors,” Katherine answered.
“Aye, of course,” Amiria said, and they began making their way from the lists. She halted in the outer courtyard and turned back to Katherine with questioning eyes. “Where are your horses? Have our lads already seen them to the stables?”
Katherine looked sheepish and embarrassed. “I’m afraid we didn’t ride here. We walked.”
“Walked? But, that is nigh unto forty miles or more?” Dristan shook his head in disbelief and then noticed Katherine’s bruised and battered feet. “By Saint Michael’s Wings, where are your shoes, Katherine?” he bellowed and then continued his tirade in Norman French. She, of course, didn’t understand a word he said, but clearly he was upset, not only with her, but with Riorden, as well.
Katherine shuffled her toes gingerly in the dirt. “As I said, it’s a long story.”
Dristan came to stand before her, looked her up and down, and suddenly scooped her up in his arms. “My apologies by being so forward, Katherine, but ’til our healer says you are recovered, you are not to do any more walking. Is that understood?”
“Of course, my lord,” Katherine whispered and heard Amiria call out for Kenna to come to her solar. Serfs came running at her beckoning to carry out her orders to have hot water readied for a bath and fresh clothing brought to her.
They entered the keep, and Dristan continued carrying her up the spiral stairs. Her heart raced when he started taking her down the second floor passageway instead of going to the third where Amiria’s solar was. He knew just where he planned on taking her, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle being in the same room she had shared with Riorden but months ago.
If she had had the time to ponder matters, Katherine felt she would have fallen to the floor in a puddle of grief, once she was deposited inside their chamber. But she wasn’t given the opportunity, for she was immediately instructed to sink her tired self into the warm, soothing water of the tub, where she was scrubbed clean. A MacLaren plaid was thrown around her body, keeping her warm once she had been dried off, and she was gently pushed down onto the feather mattress. Kenna set to work bandaging her feet, but it was the peaceful sound of Amiria’s voice singing a Scottish ballad that was the last thing Katherine remembered before she fell into a deep and restful sleep.
Chapter 26
Katherine awoke to the low light emitting from the hearth embers, telling her night had fallen. Feeling disorientated, her gaze fell on a lone woman, working on her stitchery by candlelight. She was squinting to view her work, and, from the frown placed on her young face, she didn’t look pleased with the results.
“You know, you could light more candles to see better, Lady Lynet.” Katherine voiced her worry for the girl’s eyesight with a small smile.
“At last...you are awake.” Lynet was clearly enthusiastic as she went about adding more light to the room. “I did not wish to disturb your slumber.”
Katherine sat up in the bed and pulled the covers up to keep her warmer. “I don’t think anything would have prevented me from sleeping the day away. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the comfort of a bed beneath me.”
“You have been asleep two days now.”
“Two days?”
“Aye.” Lynet came to sit on the edge of the bed. “You had us all very worried, Katherine. I may call you by your given name, may I not?”
Although she hadn’t become as close to Lynet as she had her older sister Amiria, Katherine felt comfortable in her presence and smiled warmly. “Yes, of course you can. I feel like we’re family.”
She smiled brightly. “Then you must do the same.”
Lynet silently went back to her needlework, giving Katherine time to ponder the young woman of nineteen before her. She was one of the most beautiful women Katherine had ever encountered; honey colored hair held in a long braid running down her back to her waist that most would envy, skin clear and smooth like the finest porcelain, and blue eyes that could rival a clear morning sky. She was a walking picture of elegance with her classical features. Lynet still had a look of innocence about her, but Katherine also knew she had inherited some of her father’s Scottish stubbornness, a trait she shared with her sister Amiria.
Lynet looked up suddenly to stare at Katherine, as if she had been afraid to voice her worries. She bit her lip several times before she at last spoke her mind. “Lady Ella told us your tale...at least from her end of it, anyway. We are most grateful to her that she came upon you and was able to pull you from the riverbank to safety.”
“I feel the same way. I could spend the rest of my days thanking her for her kindness and still it wouldn’t be enough.”
“She is quite secretive. ’Tis obvious she is a noblewoman, but she remains reluctant to tell us about herself,” Lynet said. “Has she, mayhap, told you her tale?”
“I’m afraid not, although I’m curious to know why she was on a pilgrimage to Warkworth’s Hermitage in the first place. Somehow, I didn’t feel it was right to pry the information from her, given how much she had been helping me. I figure she’d tell me her story if she felt inclined to do so,” Katherine answered honestly.
Silence formed between them for several minutes until Lynet placed her needlework down in her lap. “I must speak my mind, Katherine, but do not wish to offend you.”
Katherine gave a short, somewhat comfortable laugh. “Oh, I can only imagine what you’re going to tell me, Lynet. You might as well speak your mind.”
“I just canna imagine Riorden throwing away so carelessly the life the two of you had started together. ’Twas
so perfect, and he has never acted so rashly afore. ’Tis highly out of his character and how I have come to know him all these years.”
“Only Riorden can explain why he did what he did,” Katherine sighed. “Personally, I didn’t stick around long enough to hear whatever explanations he had to say. Somehow finding the two of them naked in bed together was almost more than I could handle.”
“But, he loves you so,” Lynet exclaimed with a dreamy eyed expression. “I am positive of it, along with the love you still bear for him. You do still love him, do you not?”
Katherine stared into the flames in the hearth. “I wish I could somehow learn to stop loving him, but it’s just about as impossible as asking me to stop breathing. How can I not still care for him, especially with his child growing strong inside me?”
“We will send him a missive and−”
Katherine sat up quickly in the bed. “No!”
“But, he will come for you! Once he arrives, we can apprise him of the happenings at Warkworth, and Marguerite’s part of ensuring his father’s demise,” Lynet reasoned. “Most likely she is the cause for your sudden flight from your home, as well, with those nasty villains chasing after you.”
Katherine shook her head in doubt. “No, Lynet. Unless he comes to me of his own accord then there is no reason for me to send for him. He should realize this is the only place I would go. He would know Dristan would keep me and the baby safe.”
“I still say we should send a runner to Warkworth,” Lynet replied, clearly unsure of this course of action.
Katherine reached out and took Lynet’s hand. “Please promise me that neither you, nor anyone else here at Berwyck, will send for Riorden. I don’t want him coming here just to drag me home because he is the father of my child. It must be his choice, and one that is freely given, or else it doesn’t mean anything. He needs to do so because he wants to, not because he feels obligated to see to my needs and those of our child.”
