Arik knew what the man was offering and he was humbled by it. “Major, there is one thing you can do for me. Keep my wife safe.”
The major started to salute but stopped midway and took a step closer. “I will defend and protect her with my last breath if necessary.”
Arik put his hand on the major’s shoulder. “I know you will and that makes my leaving easier.” He would miss the man.
Arik returned to the tower room. He lit the hearth and cleared the pentagram. He tried to craft a message to Rebeka. Instead he fed the hearth with his false starts and empty words until he knew that only the truth would do.
“Beka, your life is in my safekeeping. Fayne Manor is destined to fall on May 1. I will not let that happen. I’ve returned to ensure its survival and yours. For now this is what I must do.”
He reread the message. He told her the truth and knew that by making the decision on his own it would anger her. Maybe it would make her hate him. Would it be enough for her to stop loving him? He hoped so.
She’d have to move on.
He would never forget her.
His message complete, he set the wards. The Sword of Rapture lay on the pentagram with its hilt pointed to the hearth and its tip pointed at the mirror. The firelight danced on the sword’s polished blade, making its runes come to life with a soft glow. He spoke the prescribed words slow and soft and increased its tempo, building the chant’s power and intensity.
A flare in the hearth played across the blade; its reflection flashed in the scrying mirror. The swirl on the mirror’s surface settled and the portal opened. He gazed at the drawn, eager faces of Logan and Doward. He stepped through the portal and didn’t look back.
“Hello…?”
“George?” Rebeka stared at her cell phone checking the number she dialed. “I’m sure I called Arik.”
There was silence on the other end.
“George? Where are you?” A knot swelled in her throat.
“I’m at Autumn Chase. Cora said Arik was here and I, well…” He hesitated.
Fear roiled through her. She was breathing hard, trying to keep the panic under control. It wasn’t working.
“He’s left all his clothes, his tablet and his cell phone. Cora said he was going back.”
Confused, she climbed down the mill ladder. “Going back? Where?” She knew where. Why was the question. She bit her lip so hard to stop it from quivering that it throbbed with her heartbeat.
“Rebeka, where are you?” George asked.
“I’m at the mill.” She heard him running down the stairs.
“One minute. Cora, he’s gone…don’t ask questions…get in the car. Rebeka, Cora and I will meet you at the manor.”
Rebeka careened along the road, urging the car to go faster. She glanced at the forest and wished she had the motorbike so she could take the shortcut. She slammed her palm into the steering wheel then urged the car on.
“What is he doing?” She brought back the conversation to see if there was any hint. None. Her stomach knotted as she kept getting the same answer. He was going back. Without her.
She pulled onto the manor drive and saw George’s car in the rearview mirror. They both skidded to a halt by the garage. They jumped out of their cars and stood there. George and Cora appeared as bewildered as she was.
She searched the area and tried to determine where to go first. A flash from the tower window grabbed her attention. She took off running for the tower stairs. George and Cora weren’t far behind.
She exploded through the tower door and took in the sight. The fire was still overly bright in the hearth. His sword on the floor was within the warded pentagram.
No Arik.
She rushed to the mirror and faced Logan and Doward. And Arik’s back.
Logan grabbed Arik’s shoulder and turned him around.
She saw his crisp frame falter and his face harden. She moved closer to the mirror and searched his eyes. The fire in the hearth began to die and the vapor in the mirror began to cloud. Her heart pounded. She pushed on the mirror but the portal was closing. The idea of him leaving her tore at her insides. She glanced at her staff and saw the soft glow of the runes. She stared at Arik.
Testing the portal, she stretched her staff through the gathering mist.
“Grab it. Pull me through,” she yelled.
With the palm of his hand he pushed the end of her staff back, sending her away from the mirror. Shocked, she searched his face for an explanation. She saw none. All she saw was the thickening mist and the sound of the mirror as it shattered into a hundred pieces.
Arik stood in front of the mirror and saw more than the shattered glass. The disbelief and pain on her face was forever fixed in his mind. He straightened and turned away from the empty frame.
“Rebeka?” Logan asked as he moved to go past Arik.
Arik grabbed his arm and held him back. “She is not coming back.”
Logan gave him a questioning stare.
“I’ll tell you about it later.” His cold words hung like icicles on the battlements.
“I’m glad you’ve returned. We’ve much to tell you,” Doward said.
“Brief me on our way to the sanctuary. Tell me everything.” He tried to blot out her face from his mind but it kept reappearing.
“The women and children are safe in Avebury. As for the men, to a man, they wouldn’t leave. They defend Fayne Manor,” Logan said. “They’ll be glad to see you.” The three men burst out of the manor door.
“Lord Arik.” The cry rolled through the manor grounds. He acknowledged them as he raced toward the garrison. The way to the druid sanctuary open, Arik, Logan and Doward entered.
“We’ve kept Bran’s army to the northwest,” Logan said as they traveled into the tunnel to the main chamber. An array of maps littered the table. Marcus stood when he entered, relief on his face.
“Lord Arik.” Arik put his arm around the man’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Thank you, Marcus.”
“Rebeka?” Marcus asked.
“She’s not here,” was all he said. He kept his eyes on the maps. He didn’t think he could stand their scrutiny.
Logan rummaged through the parchments until he came to the one he wanted. “Here.” He pointed to an area. “We’ve been able to maneuver them over to the western section. We’ve had three days of rain.”
“Good work. I knew that area of the field would be of good use. They can’t move fast from that boggy area,” Arik said. “But this can’t be his main force. Bran’s smarter than that.”
“He’s sent small detachments. Our patrols report his main force will arrive here tomorrow or the day after.” Logan pointed to a section of the map.
Arik glanced at his brother. “You’ve done well.”
“We’ve held them back. We’re able to subdue them but I’m certain it’s another ruse to make us feel safe before his larger, more aggressive assault. Every day I wait, saying today it will come. The men prepare only to be told to stand down.” Logan broke away from his brother.
“That’s what he’s doing. He wants to strike when you don’t expect him to.”
“Arik, where is Rebeka? Why didn’t you let her come with you?” Doward stood next to him. Logan was not far behind.
He stepped back from the table. He straightened his shoulders and put a tranquil mask on his face.
“She will not survive another trip through the portal.” He glanced at the disbelief painted on their faces. “And you know,” he said quietly, “her existence is tied to the life of the manor. If the manor falls she’ll never have existed. I couldn’t let that happen. I knew no matter what action I took I would lose her. If I stayed she could disappear. If I came back I would be without her but at least she would be alive.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Mother told me over and over the manor must never fall.” He glanced at Logan. “She knew and said nothing.”
“When did you start to believe you would not succeed? You weren
’t supposed to be able to travel through the portal but you found a way. Have you given up all hope?” Logan demanded. “How many times did you tell me, once you doubt your ability you have already lost?”
When had his brother gotten so smart? He saw the fire in his eyes and for a moment he believed him.
“I, for one, will not give up. I’ll keep the goal in mind. Mother gave us both those instructions. Besides…” Logan’s face broke out in his warm smile. “Now that we’re together who could stop us. And when we win this battle we’ll start to work on a way to bring her home,” Logan said. “I’ll not leave my sister behind.” His index finger poked at Arik’s chest.
“I didn’t doubt that we would work to find a way but I couldn’t make a guarantee. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to find her again. For now she’s safe. If we fail here—”
“We will not fail,” Doward said.
Arik let out a heavy sigh. “What’s the situation?”
“Bran’s men watch the manor at all times. So we give him what he expects to see, the patrol leaving and returning as planned,” Marcus said.
“We also have men in raiding parties. They fight on foot for mobility and concealment. They use a strike-and-withdraw tactic. Hit them hard and retreat,” Doward said.
“Arik, I can feel something big building. This is becoming too predictable. We’ve put together a plan for when Bran starts his major offensive,” Logan said.
“Show me.” So far, Logan, Marcus and Doward had done well. But they were right. This was all a prelude to a bigger assault.
“There are several areas that are good for a confrontation. All are on one of the two roads in and out of the manor valley. If it comes to that, we’ll maneuver Bran’s forces to one of those spots. But there are weaknesses,” Marcus said.
“We’re waiting for reinforcements,” Logan said. “We’ve sent word to Stuart. He is on his way from London with troops. I’m certain Bran will strike before he arrives. We need a plan that would work with our small forces. Both roads to the manor are wide and go through the dense woods. The woods are too thick for fighting. The action must stay on the road. It’s limited space.” Logan pointed to the two roads and surrounding forest.
“Our men would be on foot. It makes us maneuverable. We take our position across the road. A line of pike handlers, archers and crossbowmen,” Doward said.
“It’s a good plan, if you can get Bran onto either of the roads. Put archers in the trees that line the fighting ground. They can pick off the enemy and also alert us to Stuart’s arrival and Bran’s reinforcements,” Arik said. A more terrifying realization washed over him.
“You have that look on your face. What do you see that we didn’t?” Logan stood alongside his brother and stared at the map.
“It’s his boldness. He won’t care about death or injury to his men. There’s little loyalty there. They’re hired mercenaries. He wants to show his superiority. So if you were him where would you attack?” Arik leaned over the map and rested his palms on the table.
“If I wanted to humiliate you I would do it in front of your people and your family… Do you think he would attack in front of the manor?” Marcus asked.
“I think he would choose our own practice fields, which are close enough to the manor for everyone to see. And I also agree with you that it will be before Stuart arrives with any help. It’s three days until Beltane. I’m certain that’s the day he’s waiting for.” Arik rose.
“Will the wards hold?” Marcus asked.
“They won’t be able to ransack the manor for a while. If we don’t win the day,” he said to his captain, “will it matter?”
“We’ll have to win the day.” Logan slapped his hand on the map.
“Yes we will. I want to go to the tower room and study the field. Are you with me?” Arik started for the tunnel.
“Of course.” They followed behind.
Arik tripped the mechanism to move the stone back into place and they left the gatehouse.
“Wait, you’ll need these.” Logan offered Arik his ring and sword.
“Before you say anything, they’re yours. They always have been.” Logan stood there and waited.
Arik put them on. He pounded his brother’s back. “Thank you for keeping them for me.”
“Rider approaching. Open the gate,” the sentry called. The gate opened wide enough to let the horse and rider through. The man stopped in front of them, dismounted and saluted.
“Lord Arik.” The man’s face lit with excitement. “Welcome back, m’lord.”
“It is good to see you, Willem. Walk with us to the tower,” Arik said. “What news do you have for me?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Present Day
Rebeka stood in front of the shattered mirror. Her heart hammered as she tried to make sense of what had happened. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. George was by her side, his hand on her shoulder.
“There’s an explanation. I’m certain,” he said.
She glanced at him but her mind was frozen. All she saw was the hardened features on Arik’s face. All she knew was he was gone.
“He’s left you a message.” Her breath burned in her throat. But she swallowed hard and brushed away the hot tear that ran down her cheek. She took the paper, read it and reread it. Her anger grew each time. His betrayal cut her deep. The fact that he believed he was protecting them didn’t count.
“He thinks the manor will fall on May first.” For a brief moment, sifting through the mirror’s debris, she toyed with putting the puzzle back to together but that was ridiculous. There were thousands of slivers of glass sprinkled on top of the pentagram.
George and Cora rummaged through the papers on the table. “There must be something here that explains why he left.”
“How dare he.” She fisted her hands, her cheeks burning in anger. “If the manor is in jeopardy it’s as much my fight—more my fight—than his. The inheritance is through me.” She stood at his desk. “What books and documents has he been using? He hasn’t just picked up and left. He thinks he’s protecting us.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell us the truth about traveling back? It’s not like him.” Cora peered at her brother for an answer. “There’s something more here.”
“I don’t know, but I’m certain that’s part of this puzzle, too.” Rebeka helped pick through the documents.
“I don’t see anything relevant here. It’s three days until Beltane. That’s when he says the manor will fall. And it’s happening in his time, not ours. We need to see the older journals.” They left the tower room and rushed into the library.
“He’s organized the papers. I left Arik reading through them this morning.” Each of them focused on a different stack and went through them looking for anything that would explain Arik’s actions.
Rebeka found the 1606 journal. She turned to the last pages and gasped when she read Logan’s entry. “You were right, George.” George and Cora read the entry over her shoulder.
“Logan wrote this the night before Beltane. That’s why Arik traveled back, to ensure your safety,” Cora said.
“There’s something we’re missing.” She rested her hand. “Why would he tell me we couldn’t go back when it’s clear that he could?”
“Yes, I know.” George’s voice was low.
Cora and Rebeka stared at him. “Don’t just stand there. What do you know?” Cora demanded.
Rebeka watched as George’s face crumbled. She knew that Arik had sworn him to secrecy. It wasn’t a good sign.
“George, what do you know?” Cora was insistent.
“Joan gave Arik a piece of parchment to translate.” He turned to Rebeka. “It was from a druid text and it was about the portal. Among other things, it included information about the consequences of using the portal.” He turned to the fireplace, his discomfort obvious.
“If Rebeka attempted the portal again she either would not survive or be lost between times forever. Arik had one m
ore passage.” He dropped in the nearby chair, tired and spent. “The last thing he mentioned was he wouldn’t leave without you.” His voice was almost too low for her to hear. She read Logan’s entry again.
“Logan mentions my father’s books. I’ve avoided going through them.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Avoided them? Why?” Cora asked.
A wisp of calm quieted her pounding heart. Yes, her father’s books. “I always knew my father was ‘special,’ not like other dads. And that’s more than a child’s viewpoint. He was so much more than an eccentric scholar. But after he died, something—I can’t tell you what—stopped me every time I tried to touch his books. I couldn’t read them and I couldn’t toss them out. I needed to keep them close. After a while I locked them away in the steamer chest and took them with me wherever I lived. I believed my inability to go through his things had to do with his death. Now I’m not so sure.” She stared at Arik’s picture over the hearth. “This is a turning point, one that has to be handled carefully. There’s too much at stake.” Arik’s words echoed in her head. Yes, and that started with investigating what was in her father’s chest.
“Do you need any help?” Cora asked. She let out a breath. They had done a good job of protecting her and the manor. It was time for her to pay them back.
“No. This is something I need to do myself.”
She stood in her room, the old steamer trunk against the wall. It was just a chest filled with books and things. Why was she so apprehensive? She stood in front of it and ran her hand over the top. Building up her courage, she opened the hasp and pulled back the lid. Once again she was met with the aroma of sage and mint. She took his scarf and crushed it to her chest. “Help me, Dad. I can use it now.” She wrapped it around her neck.
She pulled out his books, mostly Celtic reference, and read through his notes. Portions of lectures and even some student assignments that had never been returned were in a bundle. She pulled out a box tied with string and opened it. Inside she found her school report cards and some of the small gifts she had given or made for him. She burst with excitement that he had kept them all.
Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture Page 30
