by Lisa Shea
Ellie shook her head. “No, that is not what I meant,” she elaborated. “I mean Lily … Abigail … the others.” Her face was tight, but she forced herself to continue. “Once news came that Ian was dead, suddenly the stories began to be told. Ian was obsessed. He seduced any woman he could. He took several by force. The number of women he was with is staggering – but no woman ever got pregnant.” She flushed. “He began to accuse them of losing the children deliberately. He became desperate; he chased after even more women to prove he could father a child.” She shook her head again, looking down now. “But he never did. Not even once, in all that time.”
Stephen let out his breath in relief. “Did Lucia know that?”
Ellie shook her head no. “We never discussed Ian at all, after she returned. There was no reason for me to think it would matter to her.”
Michael pondered the news. “Now this all makes sense, but what are we to do? If we stop the battle now, we lose everything. The Grays will move and reinforce elsewhere. You and I must be on the road with our forces tomorrow. If we do not act quickly, we risk having Grays loose and active in the very area she is heading toward.”
Stephen stood. “Then time is of the essence. Can I count on your help?”
The other three nodded their assent, and soon the quartet was heading north, spreading out, intent on searching every square mile possible in the short time they had.
* * *
The next morning at daybreak, with heavy hearts, the four led the troops from the keep. Michael rode alongside Stephen, the two men lost in their own thoughts.
Michael’s voice was hoarse. “I did not really expect to find her,” he admitted quietly. “She has been trained too well for that. In another month she will undoubtedly rejoin us, once the conflict has been resolved. I know my sister. It is the logical thing for her to do.”
He paused for a moment. “If Lucia was not going to stay at Penrith, then perhaps she is actually safest on her own for now, hiding out far from the conflict. The best thing we can do is finish off the Grays as quickly as possible.”
Stephen nodded, his eyes somber. Every beat of his heart sent a prayer out to Lucia, for her to stay hidden, stay safe, until he could make his way to her side.
Chapter 26
Lucia tested a piece of the rabbit that roasted over her fire. Not quite done, she decided, and went back to washing her clothes in the pond. The sun was up, and it was quite warm. After a month of settling into the routine, she was quite comfortable in this clearing she had discovered for herself.
She hung the last shirt on a tree branch and looked around her domain. She had initially settled on the spot because it was hard to find and easily defensible, but as the weeks went on, she had truly fallen in love with her little home. The trees and pond were quite lovely, and, perhaps most importantly, it was quiet and peaceful. The cave was warm and snug, and kept out the rain and wind. The pond attracted all sorts of forest creatures. Troy had plenty of grass to eat, and she had not gone hungry either.
She picked up her parchment scroll and read through the last entry, but put it down again without adding anything new. She wondered what had befallen Michael and Stephen. She assumed that in the past month they had reached Keilder and cleared out the Grays. Lucia knew the plans by heart - they had discussed them frequently on the trip back from Harwich.
Were they successful? At what cost? Even the best planned fights had, by their nature, many events that could not be anticipated.
She sighed and stood. She ran her hand over the soft rounding of her belly, and she grinned in delight. With no one to guide her, every new occurrence in this child’s growth was exciting. She was almost four months along, and starting to show quite clearly. She knew enough to eat well, and to keep in shape. She rubbed her stomach, and took the rabbit off the fire. She ate the meal slowly, and afterwards settled down by the pond to sleep.
That evening clouds rolled in, and by the next day heavy rains pummeled the soft earth. There had been a number of rainstorms recently, and in boredom Lucia had taken to composing long letters to her unborn child. It seemed it was time for another one.
‘This interminable rain has given me ample time to think,’ she wrote, her pen making soft scratching noises in counterpoint to the thrumming of the rain outside. ‘I look forward to returning home, to seeing Michael again. I find that I can even feel happy for Stephen and Anna, that they have worked out their differences. I worry that your presence will upset them, but perhaps they will come to love you as I do. I will wait another month, to be sure the conflict has been resolved before I venture back north again.’
Lucia sighed, and looked out at the curtain of rain which fell across the face of the cave. Troy nickered from the shelter of the trees where he made his home. She looked back to the worn scroll, lit by the small fire she kept going near the cave entrance. ‘I must admit, if only in the solitude of these few words, how much I miss Stephen. I do not think I realized how much I enjoyed his constant presence during our trip to fetch my countrymen until I spent time alone here. During the intense turmoil which preceded the battle at Penrith it was easy to push off any loneliness. Here it is not quite so simple to find distraction. I see his eyes when I wake up in the morning. I hear his voice when I’m swimming in the pond. And at night ...’
She again paused, her pen hovering over the surface of the parchment.
‘I do not want to impose myself on him, but to be near him would be enough. Maybe he would welcome me back simply as a friend. In a month I shall head up to Keilder. I will be with Michael, I will be near Stephen, or at least find out that he is unhurt. That will have to satisfy me.’
Troy whinnied, and Lucia quickly rolled up the parchment. Perhaps this feeling of unease was more than longing. She tucked her scroll into a niche next to the fire and, wrapping her cloak tightly about herself, walked out into the rain.
A single horseman stood in the rain next to her pool, looking about. Lucia’s heart leapt.
Stephen! He had come looking for her!
Filling with joy, she ran quickly down the ledge around to the horse.
The rider turned at the sound, and Lucia pulled back in alarm. The man on the horse wasn’t Stephen - he was a Gray! The Gray appeared surprised and pleased to see her. In shock, Lucia stumbled backwards. He was probably a scout, although she couldn’t imagine what they were doing this far south. She turned to run, but more horsemen rode from the forest, cutting off her route back to the cave. A good-sized group of riders came into the clearing; there were about thirty in all. They looked tired and some were injured.
Lucia’s mind raced over the possibilities as she quickly considered her options. They were injured. This must be the retreating force from Keilder. That battle was over, after all, and the Grays did not look victorious in the least. Lucia gasped quietly to herself. These were the defeated remnants of the army, on the run. Lucia took a step backwards. That would mean they were desperate.
The leader rode up beside her. He was a quiet, somber man of about thirty with a scar on one cheek. “Who might you be,” he called down in a low voice, attempting to be soothing. “You might in fact be the one everyone is looking for.”
A cry of triumph came from within the cave, and one of the soldiers emerged holding Lucia’s sword and scabbard. “It is her, John,” shouted the man enthusiastically, “We have got our hostage!”
A weary cheer went up amongst the men. “Search the cave,” John ordered to two of his men. He then looked back down at Lucia, who stood in the middle of the group of men, watching for an opportunity to escape.
“My men are tired, but we will be pushing on to our camp,” he informed her civilly. “I will be taking you with me. Things will go much easier for you if you don’t fight. And in your condition...” he nodded suggestively at her stomach.
Lucia put her hands protectively over the small child growing within her. Apparently her state was common knowledge now. The soldiers tied a rope around Troy’s
neck, and she mounted him without a struggle.
The men returned from the cave with her extra clothes and blankets, but not, she noticed with satisfaction, her notes. Hopefully someone would discover them in the cave and realize what had happened.
Lucia was not so sure of herself when they left the clearing a little while later. The Grays had apparently learned some things since they first attacked, or maybe this group was different from the others she’d been encountering. To her surprise, the clearing was practically the way she found it by the time the Grays prepared to leave the area. She would have been lucky herself to find their tracks; she doubted anyone who was pursuing the group would be able to follow them, or, if they did, that they would stop to explore the cave along the way.
She sighed, riding on, allowing Troy to be led with the rest as they worked their way eastward through the forest. From what she heard from the conversation around her, the Grays had been all but wiped out in that final battle. The men around her, with twenty at the base camp a little ways ahead, were all that remained. It seemed they intended to negotiate a peace treaty, and to claim a small, remote section of land as their own. Lucia’s own appearance had been fortuitous for them - now they had a hostage to trade.
To Lucia’s surprise, John was quite solicitous to her, asking after her health and needs. They stopped frequently, with soldiers posted as guards around each location. While Lucia remained silent at their first stop, by the second, her curiosity got the better of her. “You are not what I expected,” she commented quietly, looking over at John from where they sat.
John chuckled. “Maybe it is because our group is all that remains of the true cause,” he replied bitterly. “As if anyone now remembers how this all began.”
Lucia was intrigued. “Please, I am interested,” she offered encouragingly. “How did this conflict really start?”
John shrugged. “I do not suppose it does any harm to discuss it at this point. There was a small village, Gosforth, where I lived with my parents and three older brothers. One night we were attacked, our village burned, our animals slaughtered. My oldest brother was killed. It looked like the work of bandits, but we found tokens in the ruins from the local noble family. The nobles of course tried to deny they had done it, but a well known soldier came in and convinced us otherwise.”
He sighed and looked off into the distance. “My two remaining brothers went off with him, as did many of the other men. The ranks were swelled by hundreds of mercenaries, looking to take advantage of the looting opportunities. Each foray seemed to take the group further and further from home. Years passed with no resolution. Finally, those of us who remained defending our homelands - those you see around you here - banded together to see how the conflict was going. We arrived in camp a month ago to find all of our kin long since dead, and the mercenaries ...” John’s face twisted into a grimace. “Let us just say that the original cause had been long since forgotten.”
Lucia knew that she was the prisoner here, but she couldn’t help but ask. “So why do you stay, then?”
John chuckled wryly. “Those mercenaries can be pretty persuasive,” he responded shortly. “The conflict is almost over, and they are now promising us our fair share of the settlement. Given all we have lost, we felt another few weeks in order to see this come to an end was worth our time.” He paused, and then added wryly, “Also, deserters have this nasty habit of showing up dead, not far from camp.”
Lucia was silent, and was lost in her own thoughts for the rest of the day as they rode through the thick woods. As night approached, the forward scout gave a soft call, and Lucia saw they were approaching the encampment. They moved past a rough wood stake wall posted with fierce looking men every twenty feet. Within the wall lay perhaps sixty rough shacks in various states of disarray.
Once the group was inside the perimeter of guards, John helped Lucia down from her horse. “It is time for you to meet our leader,” he remarked quietly. He looked as if he would say more, but sealed his mouth in a thin line. He escorted her toward a large building in the center of the compound. It was far better built and larger than any of the shacks around it. John motioned her inside, while he remained outside the door.
Lucia pushed aside the hanging skin which served as a door, and stood a moment inside as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Standing before her was the man who had betrayed her in her youth, who had turned against them and joined the enemy.
Evan.
His blond hair and striking good looks had only become more handsome as he had matured. His body was strong and toned. He wore a luxurious robe of rich red ermine over a long burgundy tunic.
“Ah, Lucia,” greeted Evan evenly, smiling with cool superiority. “I heard we had managed to capture you. What a stroke of luck! They do not dare touch us while you are in our camp.” He chuckled softly. “Come, have a seat next to me. You might as well make yourself comfortable; you will be here quite a while.”
He gestured to a large, intricately cushioned chair which sat next to an ornately carved table. Lucia looked around the room - the furnishings were quite grand, nothing like the other shanties constructed around the area.
Evan nodded self-importantly at her gaze. “Only the best for the leader of the Grays,” he asserted with pride. He turned to snarl at one of the rough-worn women cowering to the side. “Bring us some food, wench!” She scurried off, and Evan again smiled to Lucia, offering her a chair by his side.
Lucia eyed Evan warily. For all the years she had known him, she had never sensed this side of his personality. She wondered if he had always been like this, or if the intervening years had corrupted him. Evan’s look turned sour as she did not obey his bidding quickly enough, and realizing that she should choose her battles wisely, she moved to comply. She sat slowly by his side, saying nothing. She remained motionless, her eyes searching his face, looking for any hint of the Evan she had known.
Evan also seemed lost in thought for a moment, and looked over Lucia with an unreadable expression. Then he gave a short laugh. “I heard you were with child,” he snapped curtly, a sharp edge to his voice. “You did not pine away for me, then?” He barked with amusement and glanced around. “Well, no matter. I found everything I could want right here.” The rag-wearing woman returned with two trenchers of food and placed them hesitantly on the table. Before she could leave again, Evan pulled her onto his lap and groped her chest. He laughed as she struggled, then threw her to the floor. She pulled her shirt together and ran out of the tent.
Evan laughed in delight at the shocked look on Lucia’s face. “Too much for a mother-to-be?” he asked, grabbing a chicken leg off the table and gnawing at the bone. “You would not believe the life I am living here. I am a king! I am not just second fiddle like I would have been back in Keilder. To think your father offered me such a meager position, with the plans I had already made.”
Lucia was shaken. Slowly an idea formed, and she paled. “You are the one who convinced the villagers to fight,” she gasped, looking at Evan in growing horror. “You found a perfect excuse to attack the nobles in the area, to build your mercenary army. Then you wormed your way into my household to help plan your future expansions ...”
Evan’s voice boomed as he gloated. “Of course!” he crowed, triumphantly. “All that time you were the upper class girl, deigning to be with a lowly boy like me. All that time, and I was preparing a conquest that would take you down. To think your family thought I would be happy joining you.”
He leant forward, sneering at her. “In the end, your father begged me for peace. He pleaded for me to leave Keilder intact.” He laughed. “I took off his head with one blow.” He waved his hands expansively. “Now that I have you, your remaining family will come groveling to meet my demands.”
Lucia’s face was a mask of shock. Evan grinned widely and continued. “Who do you think planted those tokens in the village in the first place? Who do you think began the first fires? It has all been a
carefully laid out plan, and it is finally coming to fruition. I am just so glad that you could be here, Lucia dear, to join me in my hour of triumph. It makes everything complete.”
Lucia found herself standing before she realized she had moved. Her voice was the chill rasp of steel being drawn. Her body felt as taut as a drawn bow as she faced Evan. “I would rather die than help further your plans,” she grated, her voice ice cold.
Evan sneered at her. “I know better than that,” he snarled with sarcasm, dismissing her threats with a wave of his hand. “Would you kill your unborn child, too?” He shrugged, drawing his eyes down her body. “Who knows, maybe you would. You are carrying a bastard child of someone who obviously did not even care enough to give you a roof over your head. An unloved child of an honorless father.”
Lucia’s fury was barely held under the tightest of control. “I gave myself with love to my child’s father,” she vowed through clenched teeth. “I wonder if any woman who has been with you can say the same thing.”
Lucia didn’t even see the blow coming. One minute she was standing before Evan, his face contorting from shock to crimson fury. Then she was thrown through the air, landing hard on the table’s edge with a horrifying crunch. Gasping, she rolled off to collapse in a heap on the floor.
Her abdomen billowed with jagged shards of pain.
Chapter 27
Evan was screaming, charging at Lucia, and all thought fled. She burst through the skin flap door and sprinted into the woods, the startled shouts of soldiers fading behind her. The harsh sound of metal on metal told her that at least one fight had begun. Maybe Evan’s attack on her had been the final straw for his disgruntled men. She ran on, her blood pounding in her ears, her only thought on getting her and her child to safety. The trees streamed by in a tangle of shadow.
Suddenly a dark chasm yawned before her, and she tumbled to her knees, breathing in desperate gasps. She was at stone outcropping high over a turbulent river. There was perhaps a twenty-foot drop into the rapids, and the river coursed downstream at a fast pace. The full moonlight cast an eerie glow on the scene.
