Her stomach turned then as she realized he was putting something in the ale! Her mouth went dry, and she was tempted to force it back up her throat. She gagged and coughed but kept it down. Whatever it was, it was not poison, for she continued to live and regret every moment in her life when she’d longed for her father to claim her.
They stopped for the night a few hours after sunset. The men were accustomed to traveling like this and did not require tents or other comforts. A few blankets were thrown on the ground for her to sleep on and another to cover her. Every bone in her body ached from the hours in the saddle. And yet they had days of travel ahead, from what she’d overheard.
Once sleep descended over the camp, she found it impossible to do so. She feared the nightmares she knew would follow her after witnessing such terrible things. Her body ached on the hard ground. Just as she began to drift off, screams filled the area. She started to get up but was pushed back down by the soldier guarding her.
Glancing around as best she could, she could tell the sounds came from the other side of the camp. Loud voices. Lord Hugh’s was one of them. There was another scream and sounds of a beating followed. And then it all was repeated.
They’d captured someone. One of William’s men? And he was being tortured. Her stomach rebelled then as she tried to shift. The only thing she could do, it seemed, was set a bush on fire nearby.
She wanted to cover her ears, to block out the sounds, but the way they’d tied her hands around a cart so she could not escape kept her from doing that. And the sounds continued on and on through the night.
Brienne did not remember falling asleep, but suddenly someone was kicking her hip to wake her. The sun barely peeked above the horizon and already most of the camp was packed. She stumbled into the bushes when Brisbois came and released her. Then she gobbled down a crust of bread and a piece of cheese before Brisbois tied her hands once again and led her to his horse. When he held out the skin to her to drink, she hesitated.
“This is mine,” he said in a quiet voice. She met his gaze then and glanced at the skin. “I know you are thirsty, girl. Drink now.” So he knew she was being drugged by Lord Hugh.
“My thanks,” she whispered as she took several mouthfuls of the water in it. Only as she handed it back did she see the traces of blood along the edges of his nails. Her eyes met his as she realized he had been the one torturing the unfortunate through the night.
She looked away, knowing that she had done Lord Hugh’s bidding as well. How could she hold this man any guiltier than she herself was?
They were on the road soon after. Not long after that, storms struck, slowing their pace to a crawl. Brisbois pulled a thick tartan blanket out of his pack and covered her with it as they rode along. Clearly, some rain and wind were not enough to make Lord Hugh stop. The bigger surprise came when the lord handed her some strips of dried meat.
“Why?” she asked, accepting them and hiding them beneath the blanket. He ignored her question and kept riding, following the others.
“You have to keep up your strength,” he said. She lifted her face to look at him, ignoring the rains.
“Why?” she asked again. He gave her no answer and rode on.
Hours passed, with fewer stops now, and she heard orders passed back through the riders that they were heading for the coast. Though she’d dreamed of visiting the sea as a child, her first view of it was certainly not as she’d hoped. Afraid she’d be sleeping in the rain that night, Brienne was surprised when Brisbois led her to a small barn near a larger stone house.
“Lord Hugh is their guest and sleeps within,” Brisbois said as he saw her settled in one corner of the unused building.
He left for a short time, and another man guarded her from the doorway. When he returned, he carried a bowl and a cup, which he held while the other guard released her from her bonds and left. He handed her the bowl, in which she found a portion of plain stew, still steaming.
“My thanks for bringing this,” she said. “Do you want some?” He shook his head and went to sit by the door.
She dipped the spoon into it and ate it too quickly. He produced a small loaf of bread from one pocket in his jacket and tossed it to her. Then he pulled a skin from inside it and filled a battered cup to the top before bringing it over to her. Brienne drew her legs up under the length of her gown and sat cross-legged, eating and drinking until every morsel of food and every drop of water was gone.
He grunted when she handed him the bowl and cup back empty, and she thought it was one of satisfaction.
“Have you eaten, then?” she asked.
“Aye, with the others.”
She leaned against the wall and pulled one of the blankets around her. The sound of the rain on the roof soothed her, and she could feel her body sinking into sleep, but there was one thing she needed to know.
“That man. Is he dead?”
He did not pretend to misunderstand. “Nay.”
“Will you kill him?” she asked, watching his surprised expression. “Or just torture him?”
He ignored her question then, closing his eyes as though trying to sleep. She knew he would not, for he’d not yet bound her hands or feet to secure her for the night.
“Is he one of Sir William’s men?” she asked softly. It was what she feared the most.
“Nay. He is from the west,” he replied. She let out her breath at his answer. Not one of William’s but one of Marcus’s group. He must have been following them when he was captured.
“Is it difficult for you to torture or kill someone?” To plan something like that was unthinkable to her.
“You ask too many questions about killing,” he said. “You have no need for such knowledge.”
She stopped asking and leaned her head back. Closing her eyes, she confessed her darkest sin to the man who killed for his living.
“I killed a man yesterday. A friend. A man who had asked to court me,” she whispered. “He made me kill my friend.”
The tears flowed then, silently, and she turned away so he could not see them in the light of the lantern between them. Sorrow filled her as she remembered all the good things about James.
“’Tis his sin, then, no’ yours, lass.”
She slept restlessly that night and thought someone stroked her hair, comforting her as her mother used to when she could not find sleep. In the morning, the sun broke through the clouds and she saw the sea for the first time.
* * *
William did not waste time trying to follow them to the coast. Instead he took his men at a brutal pace back to Edinburgh and the king. The king was not there, staying at Dunfermline Abbey over in Fife instead, so William met with his Exchequer and got what he needed based on the king’s previous orders. Leaving a message for the king’s private secretary about increasing the number of guards on him, William led his company to Leith, to the cog the king’s man had ordered made ready for their use.
From what Marcus and Aislinn could tell him, the stone circle they sought was north and west of Aberdeen, so they would sail there and go by land from the coast. Though those from Far Island were experienced sailors, his men did not fare as well on board the small ship.
Marcus and the others continued to teach him more about the ancient gods whose powers passed down to him and others and about the prophecies. But their worried expressions warned him that their friend was in danger.
“Do you know if he yet lives?” Will asked them as the ship moved along the coast, north of the firth.
“He lives,” Marcus answered.
“How do you know this? Tell me of this connection you share. Is it because of your training?” he asked, sitting on a bench near the front of the ship.
“Aislinn is the strongest connection we have. She dreamwalks and sees him.”
“Dreamwalks?” he asked, looking to her for an explanation.
&n
bsp; “I cannot exactly explain how it works, William,” she said. “I sleep. I dream. I walk and find those I know.”
“And your man? You found him?”
“Aye. Corann has heard me.” He waited for more, but when she did not go on, he asked.
“Will he break, Aislinn? Will Hugh find out the method to open the circle from him?”
“He is not practiced at deception, William. And he is not a warrior. He . . . will break . . . soon.”
If Hugh knew what Corann could do—read the signs, chant the prayers—he might keep him alive. If he did, it could give them time to rescue him when they took Brienne back.
“Can you find Brienne in your dreamwalk?”
“I do not know. I have never sought someone not a priest,” Aislinn said, glancing at Marcus first. “I can try though. You could help me find her since your connection to her is so strong.”
“How? Tell me how.”
“We must wait until nightfall. We will try then.”
The next few hours were the slowest in his life, but finally, the men and women on the ship settled down to sleep for the night. William gathered with Marcus, Aislinn, Roger, and Gautier at the front of the ship, where a tent had been erected. They waited until dark had fallen completely and then began the task of finding Brienne.
William floated. His body remained on the ship, but his mind drifted above them. Aislinn spoke softly to him, pushing him to let go and sleep. He could feel her words and thoughts as though they were touches, nudges, pushing him this way and that.
Lord Hugh pushed his thoughts but not like this. He overpowered with his, while Aislinn gently led.
“Bring Brienne to mind now, William. In your thoughts, make her image clear and strong.”
He smiled as he did it, for the image he had of her was lying naked on his bed, in his arms, as she found her release. Her head flung back, her skin glistening with sweat, his hand buried between her legs, stroking her until she screamed.
“Mayhap not that clear,” Aislinn instructed as both she and Marcus chuckled.
William opened his eyes and looked at them. “Can you see her as I do?” he asked. Brienne would never forgive him for sharing such an intimate moment with them.
“Nay,” she said with a soft laugh now. “But the way you feel about her is very strong.”
Oh God. Can they tell I am aroused from the memory of her that night?
“Aye.”
Will opened his eyes but she had not, still sitting next to him, eyes closed.
“Take a deep breath and try once more.”
He let the motion of the ship on the water, its gentle rocking as it skimmed over the surface, lull him closer to sleep. This time he saw Brienne as he had the first time. Standing behind Gavin before peeking out to look at him, the colors of her standing out against the duller shades of everyone else and her eyes meeting his.
“Brienne,” he whispered.
“Again.”
“Brienne . . . Brienne. Where are you, ma chérie?”
“I see her,” Aislinn whispered, her grip on his hand stronger now. “A small flame in the darkness, I am walking to her now.” A few seconds passed in silence. “Say her name and speak to her. In your thoughts.”
Brienne, are you there? Are you well?
“She is well.” She squeezed his hand again.
Why do you not escape him?
“He is giving her something that mutes her powers. She cannot shift to fire now.” William heard Marcus curse at this news.
“Ask her about Corann. Before I lose her. And ask her to see where she is.”
Brienne, is Marcus’s man Corann with you? Is he alive?
“Aye, though she did not know his name. They have tortured him. They are torturing him now. She can hear his cries.”
William felt her hot tears fall on his skin at such a revelation. This time he gently squeezed Aislinn’s hand.
He knows how to open the circle, Brienne. Tell Lord Hugh of his worth.
He felt her reaction then through his connection or Aislinn’s—fear, anger, sorrow. Then he saw the young man James’s death and felt her heartbreak.
It could save Corann’s life, Brienne. Keep him alive until we reach you both.
“Ask her if she knows their destination.”
Where are you heading, love? Have you heard any words or directions?
“Aberdeen. Inverurie. Oldmeldrum. Though she knows not where those places are.” Aislinn patted his hand now. “Let her sleep. I can feel her exhaustion.”
Rest now. Worry not, love. We are on our way to you. Do not lose heart.
“She’s slipped away, William. I cannot see her any longer.”
She released his hand, and he opened his eyes. Her gaze filled with knowing, she smiled at him then. Had she heard his words? She stood and whispered with Marcus before leaving the tent without another word to him.
“We can land near Aberdeen and travel from there,” Marcus explained. “Would you tell the commander, Roger?”
Roger made his way out of the tent, observing them with his usual silent regard.
“Do you know the area, William?” Marcus asked.
“Aye, dozens of standing stones and even circles strewn all through that area. Some large, some small. All ancient. How will we know which is the true gateway?”
“Worry not on that,” Marcus advised. “As two of the bloods approach the circle, the goddess will try to break free. You, Brienne, Hugh, and the rest of us will know the true circle then.”
“And if she breaks free? Can she escape?”
No one would speak of that. What was this goddess, and what would happen if they failed?
“What is she?”
“She is the destructor. She is chaos. She is fire. Very simply, her escape will be the end of the world as we know it. Death and fire will rule over man and reason.” Marcus shuddered as he finished his words.
“Beginning with us?” he asked.
“Aye, we will be the first to die. But if she escapes, that could be merciful for us considering what the rest of humanity would face.”
From deep within him, in his soul, William understood the danger. His ancestors had exiled this goddess once, and he must ensure that she did not escape the prison that held her now.
But could he save the woman he loved from a madman who would sacrifice anyone and everything in his quest for power?
Hours later he still paced the small confines of the ship, trying to sort out the endless possibilities ahead. With the dawn came no clarity of anything except his purpose.
To save Brienne.
Chapter 23
She walked slowly around the ship with Brisbois only a step behind her. The ship’s rise and fall as it moved across the smooth sea made it difficult to keep her balance as she did. It was her first time on a boat, and this was a large one that carried many. Gazing across the water, she saw the other one a short distance away.
They did not bind her, for she could not swim and dared not try to escape. And since no man there would touch her, she had more freedom on the ship than she’d had on land.
On the third time that she’d circled the ship, she paused close to the unconscious heap of broken flesh that was a man named Corann. Though his face was beaten almost beyond recognition, she thought he might have been one of the men who’d taken her that day in the forest. Brisbois pushed her shoulder, so she continued past the man, trying to come up with a way to do as William had asked her.
She had dreamed of him!
She’d expected nightmares to haunt her sleep. Instead she could see and hear him as though he stood before her. She thought him just a dream until he asked her questions about that man and about their journey. He’d asked her to save Corann by sharing a vital piece of information with Lord Hugh—that he knew the priest
s’ method to open the circle.
Lord Hugh would keep him alive then. At least until they reached the stones. At least until William could reach them as he promised. She smiled then, remembering his words to her as he’d promised to reach her.
As she approached him once more, she said his name loud enough for others to hear. Stopping before him, she repeated it.
“Corann?”
“Move along, girl,” Brisbois ordered gruffly, nudging her shoulder to push her on.
“Does Lord Hugh know who this man is, Brisbois?” she asked. When Lord Hugh approached from the place where he stood in the front of the ship, she knew he’d heard her. She felt his presence behind her before he even said a word. Would there ever be a time when she could not?
“Brienne? You know this man?” he asked. He pushed Corann, forcing the huddled mass to his back, where she could see him more clearly. She could not help herself. Her gaze went to Brisbois, who looked away.
“Aye, my lord,” she answered. “He took me to their camp some days ago. To draw the warblood, much as you do now.”
Oh, she knew his intention. From what she’d heard, he needed only one fireblood in the circle to open it, and it would be himself. She was only the lure to bring the other one needed to it—and to ensure that he would do as ordered—so that he could open it for his goddess. Lord Hugh’s expression changed from surprise to anger to amusement in just seconds.
“And he knows about the circles.”
“Not as stupid as I thought,” he said. “Are you speaking the truth though?”
She felt him trying to slide into her thoughts, to find the truths he wanted. He took her chin and held so that their gazes met as he pushed and probed. He thought her compliance was assured by whatever he put in her ale, so she thought of only what William had told her.
This priest can open the gateway.
This priest can open the gateway.
Rising Fire Page 23
