Bridging the Storm

by Meredith Bond

  “Who are you?” Jamie asked, startled by the large man. “Are you the man Kate has been telling me about?”

  Tatiana looked at Kate, but the girl deliberately kept her eyes averted. Turning back to Jamie, Tatiana said, “This is Sir—”

  “Did you ever hear the tales of King Arthur?” her guest asked, interrupting her and ignoring the boy’s question.

  Jamie nodded. “He was a brave king, and with the great sorcerer, Merlin, he brought England together.”

  “Well, he and Merlin didn’t do it by themselves. They had help from the knights of the round table, didn’t they?”

  Jamie nodded again.

  “Well, I am one of those knights. My name is Sir Dagonet. I’ve come all the way from King Arthur’s time to help you and your mother get you better. If you are brave and strong as a man should be, I would be honored to stand by your side and request that the king dub you a knight as well.”

  The little boy’s eyes grew big and round before he was thrown into another coughing fit. “Would you… would you do that?” he finally managed to ask.

  “I would. But first you must prove your mettle. Are you ready?”

  Jamie nodded. “What must I do?”

  “Papa has to cut your arm and mine.” Tatiana said, giving Sir Arthur a grateful smile. He had said just the thing to get the little boy to fight while going through this ordeal.

  “Cut me?” Jamie asked, sounding truly frightened now.

  “You want to see all my scars?” Sir Arthur asked, sitting down on the other side of the bed. He pushed up his sleeve displaying a wide, long scar that reached up his arm. “This one was given to me when we fought the Scots at the River Douglas.” He pushed up his other sleeve where three long gashes sliced across his left forearm. “And these were caused by a mace when we fought the Danes. And those are just the ones you can see without me having to disrobe. There are many, many more I assure you. Being a knight can be a nasty business, but you always know that it’s worth the pain because you fight for what’s right. In this case, it’s your own health.”

  Tatiana could see Jamie swallow hard. He looked up at his father who had come forward with the knife in his hand. It was the sharpest knife Kit could find. It would be able to cut both her and her boys with the least amount of pain—they hoped.

  Jamie gave a tremulous nod.

  Kit pulled up a chair and situated himself so that he had easy access to both of them. As he did so, Kate stepped forward and stood next to Sir Dagonet with the poultice ready.

  “All right. Now Papa is going to cut me and then you, and then we will put our arms together,” Tatiana explained, Merlin’s voice ringing in her ears. “Kate must bind our arms together with her herbs, and then you shall use all of your magic to push yourself into me while I use mine to push some of me into you. After that, we’ll both have our arms bandaged, and it’ll be done. My strength will then be inside of you, and you’ll begin to get better.”

  “Sounds straight forward enough,” Sir Arthur said, giving Jamie an encouraging nod. “I know you can do this.”

  “Do you think after this I’ll be strong enough to be a knight of the Round Table?” Jamie asked.

  “I think you’ll soon be strong enough to begin your training. You will have a lot to learn first before you can become a true knight of the Round Table, you know. You’ll have to study horsemanship, sword fighting, proper care of armor, saving damsels in distress, all the usual things we knights do.”

  “And you’ll teach me?” the child asked.

  Sir Arthur looked startled for a moment, his eyes turning to Kate. A soft smile stole onto her lips.

  “It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” the knight said, nodding.

  Kate flushed, and a spark of anger lit inside of Tatiana. What had those two been doing? Clearly there was more going on than there should have been. She turned towards Kit to see if he had seen it too.

  His lips pursed together, and a muscle began to jump in his clenched jaw. “We’ll have a talk about this, later,” he said, looking straight at his niece.

  Kate’s color heightened dramatically. Sir Arthur shifted uncomfortably, but wisely kept his tongue.

  While they were all preoccupied with this odd new situation, Kit reached out and quickly sliced a gash into both Tatiana and Jamie’ arms. Jamie whimpered as Kate sprang into action, and Tatiana reached out to press her arm to her son’s.

  The ground herbs burned and scraped against the raw wounds, but soon a long soft cloth was wound around their two arms.

  “Push now, Jamie,” Kit said encouragingly. He moved to place his hand on his son’s forehead, but stopped and instead clasped his hands together in his own lap.

  With his power to stop magic, Tatiana knew Kit was just being cautious to ensure that he didn’t interfere in any way.

  Very gently, she reached inside of herself and pulled out a tendril of her own magic to push into her son. She envisioned it sliding through her blood like a thin rope, out of the wound in her arm and into the wound in his. As she did so, she verbalized what she was doing so that Jamie could do the same. Together they pushed their magic into the other.

  At first, she wasn’t sure it would work, but slowly a tingle of magic began to seep into her bloodstream—just the tiniest little touch. She felt it and grabbed on to it like a life–line, as indeed it was, her son’s .

  “That’s it, Jamie. Concentrate now, you can do this,” Sir Arthur’s deep, quiet voice encouraged him.

  The tingle grew and became stronger, growing from a thread into a thicker string as it snaked into her.

  “Tie them together, Jamie,” she whispered. “We need to tie them together.”

  Slowly his string and her rope wrapped themselves around each other, blending into one. When the knot was strong enough, she gave it one last little tug to tighten it and then opened her eyes to give Kate the signal.

  Quickly, she moved to unwrap their arms and then rewrap them independently, a healing salve replacing the other herbs.

  Jamie fell back against his pillow, his little chest rising and falling rapidly. Kit wiped his forehead with a clean cloth, murmuring words of encouragement. “You did well, Jamie. You did very, very well.”

  But the boy seemed to have fallen asleep. Tatiana wasn’t certain she wouldn’t do the same. That had taken a great deal more strength than she had expected. Her limbs were like dead weights, but she had another two children to bind to herself.

  She couldn’t relax yet. Her job was far from over.

  “ARE YOU CERTAIN there have been no letters for me?” Dagonet asked the footman, Jimmy.

  “No, sir. If one comes, I’ll bring it directly to you,” the man said, pocketing the coin Dagonet had slipped into his hand.

  It would have to do. It seemed odd that he hadn’t heard back yet about the expedition to South America. He had written to them as soon as he’d heard of it months ago, and then again last week when he’d arrived here at Vallentyn.

  He should be more patient. The post could take as long as a month to reach France and return, so maybe his second letter hadn't arrived yet. Still, it was peculiar.

  “Ah, Sir Arthur, a word if you don’t mind,” Lord Vallentyn said, coming toward him with a very determined gait.

  Dagonet bowed to his host and followed the man into the library.

  Lord Vallentyn spun around and crossed his arms as soon as the door clicked behind Dagonet. He just stood there as if waiting for Dagonet to say something.

  Dagonet knew what this was about. The exchange he had shared with Kate the evening before at the binding had been as damning as if he’d proposed marriage to her right then and there. But before he could say anything, Lord Vallentyn sighed and moved toward the side table where a bottle of brandy and another of whiskey sat.

  He poured out a finger of the whiskey and held it out to Dagonet.

  “Ah, no, thank you. Prefer to have my wits stay at an even keel for this conversation, don’t you know?�
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  Lord Vallentyn gave a nod and downed the liquor in a gulp before pouring himself another. “I’m glad you are aware of the severity of the issue.”

  “I'd be an idiot if I wasn’t,” Dagonet chuckled.

  Lord Vallentyn gave a reluctant smile. “Indeed.”

  “She’s a beautiful girl, my lord, but an innocent one.”

  “Precisely. Too innocent.”

  “I imagine she’s been well sheltered her entire life, wot?”

  Vallentyn sighed heavily and took another sip of his drink. “Not as well as she should have been. My sister died when she was five, and the woman her father married soon after wanted nothing to do with his previous offspring. Luckily, she was sent here to us.”

  “That is a shame. But you and Lady Vallentyn have clearly raised a thoughtful, caring and intelligent young woman.”

  “She’s a good girl,” Vallentyn agreed.

  “And she will remain just as she is, I assure you.”

  “What are your intentions, Sir Arthur?”

  Dagonet walked toward the window, looking out at the lawn. The land sloped gently down to the river, which cut straight across the front lawn acting as a natural moat.

  “My intentions are to join an expedition and continue on with my travels. I had expected to hear back from the organizers by now. Perhaps weather has slowed the mail.”

  “So you do not plan on staying with us much longer?”

  “No.” He turned back. His host had settled himself into one of the chairs in front of the fire. "I dropped everything to answer Lady Vallentyn's call,” Dagonet continued. “I’ve work to do, my estate to see to and preparations for my impending trip. I truly wish I could have been of more help to you and Lady Vallentyn, but…"

  "You didn't expect that you would."

  "No," Dagonet sighed. “I'm sorry that I was correct in this instance.” He paused. “I believe I would overstay my welcome if I lingered for much longer.” He smiled at the raised eyebrows that greeted his blunt honesty.

  “You are most welcome to stay as long as you like, provided…”

  “I keep my distance from Miss Cherington?” he asked. “I don’t think that’s within my power, I’m afraid.” He walked back toward the fireplace. “Not only is she a beautiful young woman and delightful to be around, I worry that she would seek me out if I did not seek her.”

  “Yes,” Lord Vallentyn sighed again. “I’m afraid you’re right. I’ve never seen her… well, let’s just say that she does seem to be rather smitten with you.”

  Dagonet laughed. It was not the first time a young woman had fallen for him, but it was only the third time in his long life that he felt the same way. “I shall—”

  “My lord! Oh, my lord, come at once!” cried a maid bursting into the room.

  Vallentyn was on his feet before she’d even located him. “What is it? Is it the baby? Is Lady Vallentyn—”

  “It’s not the babe, but Lady Vallentyn… well… you must come!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  DAGONET FOLLOWED HIM out of the room, not certain that he should, but giving in to his morbid curiosity. Vallentyn headed toward the nursery, the scene of all of the recent family drama, but the maid led them down the hall rather than up the other flight of stairs.

  They could hear the lady’s wails long before they reached her room.

  “No! No! No! It can’t be,” she cried loudly.

  Vallentyn picked up speed, nearly running down the hall toward his wife. “Tatiana, Tatiana, my love! What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

  She was kneeling in the middle of the large bed, which dominated the room, her arms outstretched, her fingers curled into claws.

  Vallentyn laced his fingers through hers as he joined her on the bed. “It’s okay, my love. Whatever it is, it will be all right.” His voice was so soothing and filled with commanding magic that the hair on Dagonet’s arms prickled.

  “No! I don’t need your magic! I don’t… I don’t…” Lady Vallentyn began to dissolve into tears. She sat back onto her heels. “I don’t have any power,” she wept. Her head drooped, as she cried; only Vallentyn’s support kept her from completely collapsing onto the bed.

  “What do you mean?” he whispered.

  “I have nothing. No magic. I can’t even move a glass,” she wailed.

  Dagonet took a step further into the room with Merlin’s warnings sounding in his ears. “He said this would happen.”

  Vallentyn spun around. “Who said this would happen?”

  “Merlin. Before he told the lady how to bind the children to her, he said it would take all her power,” Dagonet answered.

  Kate came running into the room, nearly barreling into him. “What is it? I heard…” she paused and then came closer to the bed. “Aunt Vallentyn?”

  “She has no power,” Lord Vallentyn explained succinctly to his niece. He then turned back to Dagonet. “But surely he hadn’t meant she would lose all her magic!”

  “Merlin always means precisely what he says. When he said that binding the three children to her would take all her power, he meant it,” Dagonet said, despite the pain he could feel from everyone in the room.

  Vallentyn turned back to his wife. “We did know this. Dagonet is right.”

  “I didn’t think he meant all my power would be gone forever. I didn’t think he meant I would not have a bit left to… to do anything!” she said, sniffling back her tears.

  “I knew this was wrong. It was too easy. Too powerful. Too much,” Kate whispered.

  Vallentyn released his wife’s hands and sat back as well. “Yes, you’re right. But there’s nothing we can do about it now. It’s done.”

  Lady Vallentyn pressed her face into her hands, weeping quietly now. He was right. They all knew it. It was done and there was no turning back.

  “IS MOTHER GOING to be all right?” The small voice made Dagonet jump.

  A boy, no more than ten or eleven, stood peeking out from the doorway, a pot in his hands. It must have been the Vallentyn’s oldest boy. He couldn’t recall the child’s name.

  “Your mother’s having a difficult time just now,” Dagonet said.

  A younger girl popped into the room behind the boy. “You shouldn’t disturb them!” she whispered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Another little girl elbowed her way in behind her elder sister.

  “What is it, Jonathan?” Vallentyn asked, motioning for the child to come further into the room.

  “I wanted to give Mother a present,” the boy said, going to his father.

  “She’s not feeling very well…” Vallentyn started.

  “What do you have for me, my sweet?” Lady Vallentyn asked, wiping her nose and trying to compose herself.

  “I brought you a flower. It’s a snowdrop, your favorite.” The boy held out a pot with nothing in it but dirt.

  With a sniff and an attempt at a smile, she took the pot from him. “But snowdrops only grow in the winter, Jonathan, when it’s cold.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes for a moment and seemed to concentrate very hard on something.

  Dagonet nearly gasped when the temperature in the room plummeted. The boy definitely had talent!

  Green shoots began to sprout in the pot and soon a delicate little white flower unfurled its petals. It was the most beautiful gesture he’d seen in a long time. Only from the innocence of a child could such a thing happen and with such meaning.

  “You’re an idiot!” his sister said.

  “An idiot!” the younger one mimicked.

  The first girl closed her eyes, clearly concentrating on heating the room to kill the flower. He could feel her intentions even though there was no immediate response to her attempt at magic. Her blatant cruelty and desire to stop her brother’s kindness was as obvious to Dagonet as the sea was wide.

  “That’s not nice,” Dagonet said, pulling the girl back in hopes of stopping the destruction of her brother’s beautiful gesture.

  Th
e youngest child grabbed his wrist and sunk her teeth into Dagonet’s arm, deep enough to draw blood. He reflexively pulled back, but her grip was strong. If he yanked it too hard, he might very well take some of her teeth with him.

  “Susan!” both Lord and Lady Vallentyn protested.

  “You do not bite!” Lord Vallentyn said.

  “Sir Arthur, leave my children alone,” Lady Vallentyn words overlapped her husband’s.

  “She tried to stop her brother’s magic,” he explained.

  “I know very well what she was going to do,” Lady Vallentyn snapped. “You do not have the right to touch any of my children or interfere with any magic in this house. Is that understood?”

  For a moment, he couldn’t believe Lady Vallentyn was defending her daughter’s behavior. It would have been nothing but mean to kill off the flower her brother had just created. But he couldn’t argue with his hostess. With the child’s mother. With the high priestess.

  There was nothing he could do or say. “I beg your pardon.” He gave a short bow and left the room before he was tempted to do anything further.

  KATE FELT JUST awful at her aunt’s treatment of Sir Arthur. He had only tried to stop Mary from being mean. He hadn’t known that was normal behavior for the girl; that her parents not only tolerated such behavior but also never reprimanded her for it.

  As she expected, he stood on the bridge watching the rushing river. He looked forlorn with his pale brows drawn down low over his eyes.

  He startled when she came up to him, her slippers silent on the wooden slats.

  “Oh! Miss Cherington, I didn’t hear you,” he said, pasting a smile onto his handsome face.

  She couldn’t stand seeing him so upset. Not allowing society’s dictates, nor even those of her own uncle to stop her, she followed her intuition and pulled his face down to hers. He took in a deep, surprised breath through his nose when she pressed her lips to his.