He pushed open the wood covering the doorway, which hung barely upright and pushed it back into place, then entered the small room where Mandrak sat still hunched over the book.
He placed the wrapped trencher on the table and the sorcerer looked up. "Ah, the old crone sends my food. I had wondered if she forgotten." He looked at Ulrich, his eyes piercing. "And you shut up that child."
"Aye. I shall go back to my guard and leave him here," Ulrich said.
Mandrak waved a hand dismissively. "Nay, he is suitably dressed. Take him with you."
"I stand guard all night and the air grows bitter."
"No matter. If he is hardy, he will fare well."
"Aye, my lord sorcerer, as you wish."
Ulrich turned to leave and as he stepped out of the dwelling, Mandrak called to him. "We are near the end, Ulrich, and your loyalty has done you well. You will be richly rewarded when the green gem is mine."
Ulrich clenched his jaw, but he bowed his head and managed, "Thank you, my lord sorcerer." He stepped out into the deepening dusk and looked down at his small charge. As the crone had predicted, the child now slept with a full stomach.
The horses stood tethered outside and he looked back at the door that stood askew, with Mandrak inside and hunched over the volume. He looked over at Camdork, but he had disappeared. Ulrich looked back at where he'd eaten with the old woman, and saw shadows moving swiftly within the walls. He heard a scream, abruptly cut off, and started toward that dwelling, but suddenly Camdork stood in the doorway, covered in blood.
Ulrich mounted his horse, his glance on Camdork, but the man seemed not to notice him as he rode past.
Ulrich sighed, knowing the course he had set for himself. The sorcerer, in his arrogance, would never imagine that anyone would dare to disobey his orders.
¤¤
Ulrich rode his horse hard. He hoped to put many miles between himself and the sorcerer before he was missed. His guard watch would give him until day's break before he was supposed to report back. Even so, Ulrich knew there was no escape for him, for the sorcerer would alert the fighter dragons once it was realized he had fled with the child. Or perhaps he would appear out of thin air and simply pluck him off his horse.
He would fight as he had been trained these thirty years and more, and he would not fight a coward's way, but to the end protecting the child as was right. If it all came to naught, then so be it. But he would go to his death doing what he had not done in life. Protecting the innocent.
For Ulrich, the outcome for himself no longer mattered. He had long ago lost his honor when he had signed on as mercenary, one campaign after another. His life tapestry had shriveled and withered away nine years before. Up until that moment, he had looked at it from time to time, seeing the many chances he had been offered to change his life's course, but he had turned away, and finally, the tapestry lay trampled in the dirt after one horrific campaign.
His tapestry had not been the only one trampled by hundreds of horses. So many men at arms had sold their souls, and all to no avail.
But now he could no longer fall in with the sorcerer's diabolic plan. Mandrak was a madman, out of touch with his own humanity with no shred of anything human left inside. As his mind grew more evil, his body wasted away even more.
Ulrich slowed his horse and allowed the animal to walk for a pace, the animal's breath blowing mightily in the chill night air. He opened the leather thongs on his saddle sack, and pulled out linen he carried onto the battle field to bind wounds. Although stained, it was relatively clean. He wound the linen strip around his chest and tied it, then slipped the child down into the front, facing him, effectively binding him to his chest. The child still slept, and that was for the best. They had a hard night's ride ahead of them. He needed to find a safe stronghold before the fighter dragons caught up with them. He smiled mirthlessly. At least he had to try. Perhaps the saints would smile kindly upon him, and this last action would make up for a life well lived, but not lived well.
It was as the sun began to rise along the ridge of hills that Ulrich knew his time was near. He could only hope there was a heaven and no hell.
He knew of the little monastery that straddled the red soil along the short hills, a short distance from where he had found the pretender and Lady Iliana. The child would be safe there.
He looked down at the child's dark curls just visible in the sling. "Sleep now, little one. The night grows ever short."
¤¤
The stone walls of the monastery were a welcome sight as they trotted along the rough and rutted path.
Erik worried mightily about Iliana, the feverish light in her eyes. He worried terribly for William. How could a small boy survive in the care of that fiend Devanesque -- a man who had cheated death twice?
He had not expressed his extreme worries to Iliana, nor had he told her he knew the madman. What purpose would it serve but to make her fret and worry more? She looked ready to break now -- her pale skin, usually with the faintest hint of pink cheeks, now looked white and drawn. Erik himself felt a great urgency to ride off in pursuit of Ulrich, but he knew she would not stay behind. He feared what they would find when William was found. If he was found. Back in his time Devanesque had earned himself a reputation for making captives disappear.
Iliana had spoken of little else besides her ladyship Graziela as they made their way to the monastery. He shook his head. This world was so strange to him, things at times upside down. How, he wondered, could this happen, where spells were cast and people appeared to be other than who they really were?
He looked up into the almost dark sky, seeing a shadow flying overhead, then another one. The wer-dragons. Were they keepers of the skies, as she had claimed, or were they killers awaiting an opportunity to strike?
Erik lifted the pounded iron door knocker and dropped it against the monastery's heavy wooden door. A small wood window within the door opened and a woman's face appeared.
Iliana stepped forward. "I am Iliana of Dutton Keep. We seek shelter within your walls for the night. My child has been taken by the sorcerer Mandrak. We would ask to speak with her ladyship Graziela."
The small wooden door closed with a snap.
Erik looked at Iliana. "I will break down this door," he muttered, touching the iron straps which reinforced the heavy wood.
Iliana pressed her fingers into his arm. "Patience, Erik my love."
He looked down at her, touched her dark hair as it lay tangled upon her shoulders. She looked ready to fall, her eyes enormous in her face, the worry having created a pinching around her mouth.
There was a sound of metal grating and the heavy wood door swung outward. A woman stood in the entrance and at first Erik thought her a man. Dressed in a brown robe, her hair shaved in the renowned tonsure style of male monks, Erik stared at the woman, bemused. A female monk. What else, pray, would he find reversed in this world?
Iliana walked through the doorway.
"You request to speak with her ladyship Graziela?" the woman softly inquired.
"Yes," said Iliana. "My child's life is in danger. Tell her I must speak to her about the green gem."
"My ladyship does not speak with anyone. I fear you will be disappointed and your journey in vain," the woman said regretfully.
"You have returned." They both turned at the new voice.
A tall woman stood before them, lantern held high, dressed in a long flowing gray tunic over a white tunic, a dull brown mantle head piece concealing her hair. In the lantern light which she held out to the side, she looked quite elderly, yet the hand holding the lantern never wavered.
"Abbess," Iliana said, bowing her head.
"Come to the gardens so that we may talk." The woman Iliana had called Abbess turned and led the way. As they passed through a narrow corridor, several wooden doors opened and young women stood in the apertures, similarly garbed as the first monk.
"Annalaise," the Abbess paused beside the first door, "please bring another lantern
to the courtyard."
They moved through the dark corridor and out a small door at its end. Once more the night air was upon them.
The Abbess placed her lantern on a small pedestal beside carved stone seats and the younger girl hurried behind them and then placed her lantern on the ground.
"Please sit," the Abbess said, indicating the stone seats. "You have requested to speak with her ladyship, but alas her illness keeps her confined these many years and rarely does she leave her chamber. We are aware of the sorcerer who invaded our world many years ago. He brought darkness with him, and the fighter dragons he harnessed to put fear into the people. Our wer-dragons are peaceful, but we fear it is only a matter of time before he also uses this gentle creature against us. It is only since this year's harvest that he seeks power beyond his scope and due. He has slowly banished the joy and life from our world, and indeed he has already turned the red hills arid and barren. I have lived within these walls all these years happily, cloistered from the outside, but even we here are in danger." She looked at Iliana. "You have done the people a great service, but there is more anguish to come unless he is stopped. Have you remembered our first meeting?"
Iliana frowned. "I have vague memories from three summers past, when I went into the red soil hills."
"Your arrival in this time was in agreement with your wishes, Iliana," the abbess said. "In your own time you had suffered great anguish. The saints would not let you die as you wished, and so you came to this time and shouldered this mission."
"My memory is not clear," Iliana admitted, "even my life tapestry shows me only swirling mists."
"Three summers ago your experiences with the fighter dragons were such you chose to forget them, and we wove a spell of dreaming upon your life tapestry so you could wipe the terror from your memory. We brought you to this place, healed your wounds, but your body was greatly broken and you did not recover right away. We put you into a gentle sleep, and in that sleep you traveled through time."
"It was three years ago you appeared on my ship," Erik said, clenching a fist against his thigh. He leaned forward when Iliana looked confused.
"You champion her cause," the abbess said softly, nodding. She took Iliana's hand in her own. "You must understand it was your choice. Whatever your life before, you asked to leave that behind and take up the mantle of this quest. You have been very brave."
As the abbess looked at him, Erik wondered at the glow behind her dark eyes. "It was necessary for you to come here also, Erik of the Merry Maiden. When love took root, you searched for her endlessly." She lifted her head. "Such sorrow you carried in your heart."
Iliana frowned. "For a time I did not remember Erik, either."
"You held deep anguish in your heart and it was not necessary to add this also." The abbess put her hands together. "Your search for the green gem has been brought full circle. This is where your search began."
"But I have not found it, and now my son has been taken."
"We must bring the child back. You wish to love this child?" the abbess asked Erik.
He nodded. "I would love Iliana's child as my own."
"He is held beyond the short hills, as that one Ulrich spoke."
"Then it is true," Iliana said quickly. "We must ride there immediately, despite what Ulrich cautioned."
"Nay, if you should go beyond the short hills," the abbess said, "this time the fighter dragons will kill you. All will be lost, and there will be a child without a mother."
"But surely you can't expect us to wait, hoping that Ulrich can do something?" Iliana asked in anguish.
"Waiting for a mother is time that stretches into an eternity of suffering, but it is a trial you must endure. You cannot return to that place," the abbess said sadly, "not even for your child."
Iliana looked out into the dark all around them, her shoulders slumping.
"It will serve no good if you are dead."
"Are you afraid I will be no help in finding your green gem?" Iliana asked bitterly.
"No help to your son," the abbess corrected gently.
"Then what can we do?" Erik asked, standing restlessly. "All the government missions I have planned and led, and now I cannot cross these hills to find a child." He clenched his fists in frustration.
"Ulrich has already spirited the child away. You must wait ere he reaches the short hills."
Iliana looked up, her fingers clenched. "So there is hope?"
"There is always hope." The abbess stood. "In time your memories will return but gently, so as not to create confusion in your mind. That which you once shunned in your previous life, you may now embrace."
"If I should wish to return, how may I take my son with me?"
The abbess smiled. "You have always had the power to return from where you came. You just chose not to view that choice. Remember this, when you took up this mission, you embraced it fully, and immersed yourself in this time."
"I carry the deep knowledge of this time, and yet, there are other memories that nag at me."
"Your thoughts became attuned to this time and life, as if it were the only life you knew." The abbess lifted a brow. "It was all agreed upon." She stood. "I would ask that you see to your horses and retire. Morning is soon upon us."
Erik looked at Iliana.
"I shall bed down the horses," he said. "Maybe we can snatch a few hours rest." He knew she would not sleep. He was worried at the dark shadows now under her eyes.
"Come with me," the Abbess said, leading the way from the courtyard, back into the dark walls of the monastery. She opened a wooden door to a small, cell-like room and indicated Iliana should go inside. A pallet with linen cover, a candle on a small table beside a hearth where small embers still smoldered.
"Erik of the Merry Maiden, your chamber is down the hall two doors."
"Thank you," he said and watched her walk away.
"Iliana, we must hope for the best that Ulrich brings William to safety."
She nodded, not looking at him as she sat on the pallet. He bent down, placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I wish I had words of reassurance that would take away your pain."
She gripped the hand he placed upon her shoulder, but she could find no words of her own.
Erik left to take care of their horses. As he went outside, he thought of the fear in Iliana's eyes. He fed and watered the horses, noting two fresh horses in the stables.
Their horses needed to be rested, having run for the best part of the day. They would have run the poor beasts into the ground if they'd continued, even the hefty destrier he'd taken from Camdork.
Erik stared at the other two horses. One was a mare, sleek of body and yet sturdy, the other a white bulky stallion housed at the far end of the modest stable. Erik wondered why there would be such an impressive looking stallion at a monastery. Could it belong to another visitor?
Erik lifted a lantern from a peg and held it up, using the meager light to stare at the stallion. Intelligent eyes, full of life as indicated by the horse taking a turn and then another in his small enclosure.
Erik hung the lantern back on a peg and walked back to his own saddle. He knew he could hang for horse thievery, but if he could start out tonight, find Ulrich or the child...
Quickly, he saddled the stallion and exited the stable.
"My lord Erik." A young man stood in the moon-washed courtyard, his face partially lit by the flaming torches set into the stone wall behind them. His hair looked white blond in the flickering light. In his hand he held Erik's leather flask, wet and full of water. Dressed simply in peasant's garb, there was nonetheless something about the young man that drew Erik's attention. His eyes appeared strangely dark.
"Thank you," Erik said, and he tied it against the back of his saddle.
"The abbess instructed you stay along the edge of the red soil as far as the upside down tree, then enter the hills along the path you will find."
Erik stared at the young man and the somewhat dull look in his eyes. Was he
being sent into a trap? "How will I find it in the dark? Light is hours away."
"You will not be mistaken in finding it," was all the young man said. "God speed."
"Thank you. Please take care of my Lady Iliana. Tell her I will return as quickly as possible."
The young man bowed his head. "Yes, my lord."
Erik rode off into the night, sending Iliana a heartfelt apology for leaving her behind, but he knew it would be too dangerous for her to ride out. He might not make it back and he would not risk her life. He had to try to find William.
Chapter Twelve
Iliana held her hand up to shield the candle's flame from the night air. Quietly, she moved into the stable, holding the candle higher so that its meager light threw shadows over the stabled horses. She saw the lantern on the peg and moved to light the tiny wick with her candle, blowing out the small candle flame. The lantern was still warm, so Erik must have just gone inside to find his bed.
Iliana knew she risked her horse to ride her without rest after the long grueling day, but what could she do? She could not sleep while her son was out in the hills somewhere with that mad sorcerer.
She held the lantern high and realized there was a third horse in the stable. She went to study the mare, noticed her alert and somewhat kind eyes. She bit her lip. The mare looked well rested.
"My lady --"
Iliana let out a muffled cry and turned to the young man who had been sleeping on a small bed of straw.
"I -- I thought to borrow this horse," she said quickly, "I did not mean to steal, but these are dire circumstances. I cannot wait for my son to be found."
"My lady," the young man said calmly, "please do not enter the red soil whereupon you have gone before. The short hills will light a path for you, but remember to always tread carefully along the edge of the red soil until you see the path. If you do not heed this warning, disaster could follow."
The man, dressed simply in a long black tunic over a white one, led the mare out into the main area of the stable and held her while Iliana saddled her. Iliana moved quickly, afraid at any moment she would be denied the horse.
Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) Page 18
