Bridging the Storm

by Meredith Bond

  “Miss Cherington! Kate!” Dagonet shouted to her as he ran up to the edge of the bridge.

  She stopped for a moment to see who called out her name. It took her a moment to find him but as soon as she did, she turned back toward the ship and walked even faster—away from him.

  “Kate, stop!” he called after her and jumped onto the gangway. The flimsy wooden bridge bounced with his weight.

  Kate, still only about halfway across, screamed and started to lose her balance.

  Dagonet ran up the bouncing, flimsy bridge and grabbed her waist a moment before she went over the side. Turning in his arms, she clung to him, trembling like a leaf.

  “It’s all right, now. I’ve got you.” His heart pounded in his chest at the close call. Then his body began to react in an altogether different manner as her soft, womanly figure pressed against him.

  Much too soon, she pushed away from him. “You did it to me again! You’ve got to stop scaring me when I’m on a bridge!” she said, pounding her fist against his chest.

  He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. It was such a relief to have found her.

  “What are you laughing about? I nearly fell into the river.” She paused, and then had the grace to give him a little smile. “Thank you for saving me… again.” But her expression quickly changed again, this time to concern. “But what are you doing here? You didn’t come to find me, did you?”

  “’Of course I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I… I was worried. You ran away. Your aunt and uncle were beside themselves—” he started, but she cut him off.

  “Coming on too strong, Sir Arthur. My uncle, perhaps. My aunt?”

  He gave a little shrug. “Well… All right, she wasn’t beside herself but definitely concerned. Come, this is not the place to talk.”

  He started to lead her back down the gangway, but she tugged at his hand. “No! I’m boarding the ship.”

  “Come and speak with me at the Duck’s Head. I can’t board the ship. I haven’t passage.” He stopped as a drop of fear sank inside his stomach. “Have you?”

  “Yes, I do. Jimmy just arranged it this morning.”

  Her answer confirmed his worst fear. “Well, come and let's speak of this first.”

  “Jimmy is waiting for me,” she said, turning back toward the ship.

  “Ho! Jimmy!” Dagonet called out. The young man’s head popped out over the side of the ship. “Taking Miss Cherington to The Duck’s Head.”

  The footman gave a wave and then disappeared again.

  “Well! Some protector he turned out to be!” she huffed.

  Dagonet could only laugh. “He knows you’re in good hands.” He then led her back to the tavern.

  Once they were settled in a private parlor in the back, he said, “So you got up the courage to leave and convinced Jimmy to escort you?”

  “I tried it your way,” she told her hands that were clenched in her lap.

  “But it didn’t work.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t powerful enough.” She swiped her hand across her cheek, perhaps wiping away an unseen tear, and closed her eyes. “It’s my fault Jamie and Ewan died. If I’d been strong enough…”

  He reached out and put a calming hand on her arm. “You cannot blame yourself, Kate!” He paused, and then in an attempt to put a smile on her face, said, “Why even the name of the town could have told you it would be an impossible task.”

  “What?” She opened her eyes, filled not only with tears but confusion as well.

  “The name of the town where that man lived—Weymentyng, wasn’t it?”

  She sniffed. “Yes. Why?”

  He laughed. “It means ‘lamenting’. Not an auspicious name for a town, now is it?”

  She gave him a watery smile. “No, I don’t suppose it is.” But the smile didn’t last long enough. “It was my fault, though, that we weren’t able to stop him without my aunt using her powers.” She paused. “That man, that rapist was very strong. Stronger than me. He caught me, you know. He caught me in his magic. Nearly… nearly…” She closed her eyes tight against what Dagonet could only imagine was a painful memory.

  A burst of anger had Dagonet on his feet. As there was nothing else he could do, he pulled Kate into his arms. If he ever wanted to kill anyone, it was that man right now. How dare he hurt the woman… Oh God. The woman he loved. He held her tighter.

  Damn it! He’d done it. He’d gone and fallen in love with this woman. He’d tried so hard not to! He’d fought the binding emotion every step of the way, but it had happened anyway. There was only one thing he could do. Tell her the truth about himself. He was certain as soon as he did, she would never want to see him again. It was his only hope at keeping his heart safe.

  “Sir Arthur, you’re squeezing me so tight. I can’t breathe.” Kate’s muffled voice recalled him.

  He released her immediately. “I’m so sorry. I… I need to tell you something.”

  She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

  “I’m not the man you think me to be.”

  She took a step back, away from him.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I won’t hurt you. I promise, I’m not a rapist or a murderer.”

  “Then?”

  “I’m...” He started to chuckle. Now that it came down to it, he didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m a knight.”

  She frowned. “I guessed as much, Sir Arthur.”

  He truly laughed this time. “Yes. Yes. But it wasn’t King George who dubbed me a knight. It was King Arthur.”

  She looked really confused now.

  “The one with the round table? The story I told Jamie just before the binding. It was true, don’t you know? I was one of his original knights of the Round Table,” he explained. He gave another chuckle and then added, “I’m a lot older than you might think.”

  “You’re eight hundred years old? And here I thought you no more than six hundred. Well I have to say, I am surprised.” She began laughing too, as she sat back down at the table.

  “Ah, yes. I suppose I deserved that one, didn’t I?” he said. “Perhaps I should try again. My name, well the name I was born with, wasn’t Arthur. I just took it when people started using family names. My true name is Dagonet. I was a contemporary of King Arthur and Merlin’s. I fought Nimuë with the Children of Avalon and as a result of my duty to them Merlin gave me the gift—”

  “Of becoming young whenever you wanted,” Kate finished, her eyes growing wide.

  “Yes! You know the story.”

  “Of course I do, every Vallen child does. But how do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  Chapter Twenty–Six

  I SAW HIM change.” Aunt Vallentyn stood in the doorway.

  Sir Arthur rose, as did Kate, stepping up to stand by his side.

  “Aunt Vallentyn!” The words escaped her.

  “Thank you for finding her for me,” her aunt said to Sir Arthur. She then turned back to Kate. “I saw him change. He went from being a very old man to a young one right before my eyes.”

  Sir Arthur didn’t say anything. He didn’t deny her words.

  Could it be true? Was he actually who he said he was? Could he be eight hundred years old? Wasn’t that when King Arthur lived? Kate had never been good with historical dates. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered except finding a way not return to Vallentyn with her aunt. She could not allow them to drag her back!

  Them? Was it both Sir Dagonet and Aunt Vallentyn who had come for her? Had Sir Arthur intended to take her back to her aunt and uncle? She couldn’t believe he’d be so cruel. Not after she’d told him exactly how she felt about living with her aunt. Not after she’d told him of her dream to travel, to explore the world.

  She turned to see his expression. She’d never been able to read minds as some people with her affinity for Air could, but she could read faces.

  He pinched his lips together and his eyes had narrowed. That was a
relief. At least she knew he wasn’t here at her aunt’s behest.

  “I thought you had an expedition to join, Sir Dagonet?”

  He just looked confused for a moment before her aunt laughed. “You haven’t heard from the organizers have you?” she asked, pulling a packet of letters from a hidden pocket of her riding habit.

  “What…?” Sir Arthur started.

  “I couldn’t have you leaving when I still thought you could be of some use to me.” Her aunt gave an unpleasant laugh.

  Kate saw Sir Arthur’s jaw tighten as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Now I see why you didn’t reprimand your daughter for being cruel to her brother. She’s just like you, isn’t she?”

  Aunt Vallentyn ignored the barb. “Were you actually planning to bring her back to us?” Aunt Vallentyn asked, coming further into the room and nodding toward Kate.

  Sir Arthur looked away.

  “I didn’t think so,” her aunt said, her voice low with growing anger. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. It is why I insisted on coming myself. I knew you would either let her go or join in her escape.”

  “I don’t believe you can call it an escape unless you held her against her will,” he said, turning back to her. And then asked, “Were you?”

  “No! I raised the girl. She ran away like the ungrateful child she is.” Aunt Vallentyn turned her eyes onto Kate.

  “I am not entirely ungrateful, Aunt. I merely wanted a life of my own. You weren’t going to give me the opportunity of having such a life.

  A roll of thunder sounded in the distance. Oh, dear. She had tempted fate and it would not go well for her. But if Kate didn’t stand up for herself now, when would she? No. She had to do this. She would not, could not go back to Vallentyn!

  “You refer to the fact that I never took you to London to join society?” The words slithered from her aunt’s lips. “No, I didn’t and I wouldn’t have, you are correct. I have no time for such frivolities. And I can assure you that putting yourself up for sale on the marriage mart is no great thing either. You should be grateful I spared you the indignity.”

  Kate crossed her arms. “I needed entrance into society only to marry and have a life of my own.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But I truly want to see the world, Aunt. I want to travel, explore, meet new people, go to new places.”

  “Ha! You’ve been reading too many of your uncle’s books,” Aunt Vallentyn said, dismissing all her hopes and dreams in one scathing remark.

  “I read them to escape. I read them to dream of a better, more exciting life. It’s a life that I am going to create for myself. I have already taken the first step toward doing so.”

  Lightening flashed just outside the window, quickly followed by a clap of thunder that shook the entire building.

  She’d gone too far. Her hands grasped onto each other in an effort to hide the trembling, but she would not give in. She lifted her chin and stared the great high priestess in the eye. “I have booked passage on a ship leaving tomorrow morning for America and I will be on it.”

  “We both will,” Sir Arthur said, putting a strong hand on her shoulder.

  Aunt Vallentyn looked from one of them to the other, a slow smile curling the corners of her mouth.

  “You think you can defy me? Do you honestly think you can get away…?”

  Kate didn’t want to hear the rest. She’d watched her aunt closely for the past ten years. Her words were just a stalling technique while she gathered together her considerable magical strength.

  “I do.” Kate said. She took Dagonet’s hand and started out the door into the common room of the pub. She didn’t know whether he was serious or not about joining her on that ship, but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. And she didn’t want to see him hurt by her aunt.

  “Stop, Kate!” The word hung heavily in the air, laden with enough magic to halt a speeding horse.

  Kate found herself unable to move as her aunt’s magical suggestion wound its way into her mind.

  But then Sir Arthur’s hand rubbed down her back and the suggestion faded.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Lady Vallentyn, but we are leaving,” he said, his voice calm and filled with a powerful magic of his own. It was a different kind though, smooth and heavy, that somehow cleared the room of her aunt’s higher pitched, stronger magic.

  Kate didn’t turn around to see her aunt’s expression. She could imagine the fire that must have been spitting from her eyes. She could hear the storm raging outside, reflecting her aunt’s outrage.

  “How dare you!” her aunt screamed.

  Kate spun around and faced her aunt who was still in the doorway of the private parlor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Aunt Vallentyn,” she said in a deliberately conversation tone.

  Her aunt froze. “You wouldn’t…” she practically spit with fury.

  “We are in a public place, and…” she looked around and indeed, just as she had expected, they had the attention of nearly every patron in the room, “…we seem to have an audience.”

  Her aunt’s hands dropped to her sides as she took in the eyes that stared at her. Her face turned so deeply red, it was nearly purple.

  For a minute, Kate feared for her aunt’s health.

  “Turnquet, a round for everyone!” Sir Arthur called out to the bar. “I’m getting married!”

  The place erupted into cheers—whether from Sir Arthur’s good news or the free drinks—she did not know. And then it hit her.

  “You’re getting…” she started, turning toward him.

  He smiled at her then lowered himself onto one knee. “If you’ll have me, I would be honored to call you my wife, Kate Cherington.”

  “And we’ll travel to America? Together?” she asked, just to be sure.

  “We’ll travel the world over if that is your wish,” he affirmed.

  She smiled so hard it nearly hurt her face. She’d never been so happy.

  “I love you, Kate,” he said more quietly, so only she could hear above the chatter in the room and the fury of the storm outside.

  “I love you…” she paused. She didn’t quite know what to call him. He’d said that Sir Arthur wasn’t his real name.

  “Dagonet,” he supplied for her.

  “Dagonet.”

  A cold breeze blew by and Kate watched her aunt stride out of the building.

  “I can’t believe we stood up to her,” she whispered.

  “You’re a very strong woman,” Dagonet said, standing with her.

  Kate could only shake her head in wonder. She’d never in her life imagined that she’d have the courage to escape from her aunt. She supposed it was a combination of her and Dagonet’s strength that allowed her to do so.

  She turned back to him. “Thank you.”

  He gave a little chuckle, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t do much. It was you who had the strength.”

  The buxom barmaid came up to them and gave Dagonet a kiss on the cheek as she handed him a tankard of ale. Kate could feel her face burn with jealousy.

  “Oh, don’t pucker up!” the woman said. “He’s known me since I was in nappies!” She gave a laugh, handed Kate a tankard of her own and then sauntered away.

  Dagonet burst out laughing. “It’s true! And a cute little baby she was, too. Shame!” he called after her.

  She turned back around and stuck her tongue out at him before going back to her work.

  A few drinks later and Dagonet was finally ready to tell Kate the truth.

  HE DIDN’T KNOW how she would respond to his truth. But he was a knight and believed in complete and thorough honesty. If he wanted to marry Kate—which he had every intention of doing—then she deserved the truth. It would be better to get it now at the start of their relationship than sometime later.

  Come on, Dagonet, he chided himself, you’re a knight!

  “Kate, I want to be open and honest with you about everything,” he started. Her attention had wandered, but that certainly bro
ught it straight back to him.

  “Is there something else I don’t know?” she asked. “You told me you were, well, old.”

  He laughed. “Yes. That is true. I am about a thousand years old, give or take a decade.”

  “Really? That’s very old.” She sat back and thought about that.

  “Yes. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

  She sat forward again. “There’s more?”

  Dagonet looked down into his tankard. “Being that old takes its toll on a man,” he admitted.

  “Well, yes, I suppose it does.”

  He looked directly into her beautiful and thoughtful blue eyes. “For the past four hundred years or so, I’ve looked for a cure. A way to get rid of this “gift” Merlin gave me. That’s why I travel. I explore not just to build trade routes and discover new peoples but to search for someone with the power to undo Merlin’s magic.”

  He stopped and watched her take this in. It took a moment.

  “What exactly does the “gift” do? I thought it just allowed you to become young again.”

  “No. It compels me to become young.” He sighed, hating to go through the story once more. It was still painful. “When my last wife died, I wanted to die with her. I… I loved her so deeply, I didn’t think I could go on without her. We’d had a wonderful life together. Built a home, had children, grown old. So after she died, I didn’t go to Stonehenge. I didn’t want to become young again.”

  “But?” she prompted.

  “But I didn’t die. I kept growing older and older. Every year as the winter solstice drew near, I felt compelled to go to Stonehenge. Every year I fought it. Until finally, I could do so no longer. It wore me down. I was in excellent health. Just very, very old. And I wasn’t going to die.” He gave a little laugh. “It’s not pleasant being old. I’d been old before and, well, it’s just not pleasant.”

  “So you went to Stonehenge and became young again,” she said.

  “Yes. I went on with my life. I decided then that I would travel. I figured that somewhere in this world there would be someone powerful enough to remove this gift that had become a curse.”