He gazed at her in awe. “I was a fool to underestimate you before, Gwyneth. You have shown more courage and faith than I have ever witnessed. More than the strongest leaders I have followed in the past. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how I treated you. I know I do not deserve it, but I wish I could earn your forgiveness.”
“You have it.”
He stared at her in surprise. “You would forgive me so freely, even after all the grief I’ve caused? How?”
She reached for his hand. “Because it was given to me when I asked Jesus for it years ago. I didn’t deserve forgiveness either, but he freely gave it anyway.”
He sighed with tears flooding his eyes. “‘Tis a gift I will treasure.” Lorcan tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but gasped with the movement. He sputtered out a few coughs, chest heaving in anguish.
“Here, let me help you.” Gwyn gently lifted his upper body, allowing him to rest his head on her lap.
“Thank you, Milady.” Lorcan relaxed, breathing easier as he gazed up at her. “Could I ask you one more favor?” She nodded for him to continue. “Could you tell me more…about the Christian God? I would like to seek his forgiveness, too.”
She smiled down at him, her eyes filling with happy tears. “Aye, it would be my honor.”
After Tristan came to his senses and stopped struggling, his men loosened their grip on his arms. They stayed with him as he wept for his love—wept for the future they could have shared together. It all seemed so frivolous—regaining his memory and reuniting with Gwyneth—only to lose her before their life together could even begin.
“Your Majesty,” one of his men finally said. “We must leave this place before more soldiers come. Your cousin is expecting us to meet him as well.”
Tristan shook his head. “What is the point of going on if the one I came here to save has perished?”
“Forgive me if I overstep, but I do not believe Princess Gwyneth would want you to give up hope. You still have a family who cares about you and a kingdom to save.”
Tristan sighed and covered his face, knowing the words he spoke were true, but still unsure of the path ahead. God, strengthen me. Hold me up now, for I cannot stand on my own.
As soon as the prayer ended, he felt his strength renewed. His heart still ached with grief, but Tristan had to go on. He had to finish the quest in honor of Gwyneth.
He rose to his feet and wiped his face, a new purpose filling his heart. “We must return to the fortress, but we cannot return the way we came. The walkway is gone and there might be more soldiers. Instead, we will follow the river to the sea. Then we will find our way back from there.”
“But, Milord, if we scale this cliff to the top, there may be another entrance.”
He shook his head, deciding to reveal his true reason for choosing the longer route. “We will search for Lady Gwyneth’s body along the way. I’ll not leave her here in a watery grave. I failed to bring her home alive, but I can at least return her body to Daireann for a proper burial. It’s the least I can do for her now.”
His men agreed and they began the long descent to the river valley below. Tristan knew it would be the most devastating experience of his life, if they happened to find her body, but he had to try.
Hints of light appeared above the distant cliffs as Gwyneth listened to Lorcan’s breathing becoming shallow and more labored. She had stayed up all night—first talking with him about Jesus and then leading him in a prayer to ask God’s forgiveness. It was bittersweet, knowing her enemy had become her friend and now her friend had become her brother in Christ, who would soon be leaving her.
Lorcan had been asleep for about an hour, but the sunrise awakened him. “Oh…‘tis so beautiful,” he whispered before sputtering out a few ragged coughs.
She held his hand, gazing at the breathtaking view with him. “Aye, it is.”
“The pain…it’s gone now.”
“That’s good.” Her chin quivered, knowing it was a sign he didn’t have long.
A sudden gasp escaped his lips as he continued gazing at the sky. “I see it now…a great Kingdom…”
Gwyn swallowed a lump in her throat while smoothing back his hair. “The Scriptures say it has streets of pure gold. Can you see them?”
He nodded, his brown eyes glistening with happy tears. “The King…He’s calling me…calling me to come home.”
“Go in peace, Lorcan.”
His eyes shifted to meet Gwyn’s, a peaceful smile lighting up his pale face. “Farewell…until we meet again…in our Father’s Kingdom.” With a final sigh, Lorcan’s eyes closed and his body slackened in her arms.
Gwyneth hung her head and wept, but she did not grieve without hope. It wasn’t the end for her friend, Lorcan—only the beginning of eternity.
After a few minutes, she moved to the side and transferred Lorcan’s head to the ground. Then she slowly rose to a standing position. After waiting for the pins and needles sensation in her legs to go away, Gwyn went down to the shoreline. She refused to leave Lorcan’s body out in the open. She would bury him as best as she could and mark the place with stones. She didn’t care how long it took.
She’d barely gathered an armful by the riverbed when she heard the crunching sound of boots on the rocky shore. Gwyneth hid behind a small embankment. When she peeked over it, there were three men walking past. She watched them for a few moments, deciding they weren’t Fergus’ men, but still felt uneasy, not being able to see their faces.
Two of the men went ahead, but the third stayed back, scanning the bank on the other side of the river. When she saw his blond hair, her heart skipped a beat.
“Your Majesty,” one of his men called, standing in the place she’d left Lorcan. “We found a body.”
The blond man hung his head. “Is it…the princess?” his voice sounded rusty from grief, but she recognized it in an instant.
“Tristan!” she called, hoping beyond hope it was actually him.
He turned slowly, face streaked with dirt and tears as his eyes searched for the voice. When their eyes finally met, Gwyneth knew for certain it was him. She dropped the stones she’d gathered and stumbled up the embankment toward Tristan, fearing he’d disappear if she took her eyes off him. Then, as if lost in a wonderful dream, she rushed into his embrace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Found
Tristan wagered he was delirious from exhaustion at first when he saw Gwyneth running toward him. Then, feeling her arms wrap around him, he came to the slow understanding she was real. He ran his fingers over her loose tangled hair and then traced the outline of her cheek. “I saw you in the cavern. You were swept away by the river’s current. How did you survive?”
“By the grace of God, my love.” She rested her head against his chest, weeping tears of joy.
Tristan kissed the top of Gwyneth’s head. “I’m so thankful.” After a few moments, he pushed her back gently to check for any signs of injury. Her gown was tattered and her face smudged with grime, but she appeared to be unharmed. In fact, to Tristan she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He reached to take her hands in his, but furrowed his brow, noticing crimson stains on her sleeves. “Are you wounded?”
“No.” She shook her head, glancing at the stains. “It’s…it’s from tending to Lorcan. He was wounded and…he died just half an hour ago.”
He relaxed, hearing she was all right. “I’m sure you’re relieved. He can no longer cause you harm.”
Gwyneth didn’t seem to hear his words and when she looked up, her eyes had filled with tears. “He saved me, Tristan. In the end, he did the noble thing, but it cost him his life.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms as she cried. “It’s over now.”
She nodded against him. “Aye, at least he accepted Jesus before his death. I’d like to give him a proper burial before we leave this place.”
Tristan nodded for Gwyneth’s sake, but couldn’t fathom her words. She
wept over her dead captor—wanted to give him a proper burial. Tristan thought a burial at sea, devoured by sharks would be too good for the evil commander who had caused so much death and destruction. Her emotional attachment to her captor was all too familiar and heartbreaking to accept.
In spite of his reservations, he did as Gwyneth asked. Almost an hour later, with the help of his men, they had buried Lorcan. Then, he watched as Gwyneth lined the edges of the grave with rocks and even crafted a small wooden cross out of sticks to put at the top. She quoted the scripture from John 15:13. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” As she laid some wildflowers on the grave, Tristan could watch her grieve no longer.
He turned away and revived the fire Gwyneth had started the night before. When it was hot enough, he mixed some of his ration of oats with water and heated the mixture for breakfast.
By the time it was finished, Gwyneth sat beside him. He offered half his ration and they ate quietly. When they were finished, she finally broke the silence. “Thank you, Tristan. I know it must seem strange to you, that I would care about a man who held me and Isla captive. I can tell the situation is distressing for you. If you have any questions for me, please don’t hold them inside.”
Tristan stared at the river rushing by, trying to gather his thoughts. Then he turned to her, asking the question he’d been dreading. “Did you love him?”
Gwyneth’s eyes clouded over with tears. “You think I fell in love with my captor…like my sister did while you were betrothed?”
He sighed, heart aching with the raw memory. “I wouldn’t be angry with you if you did, Gwyneth. I would simply like you to be honest with me.”
She picked a small periwinkle flower nearby, twirling its stem between her fingers. “I hated Lorcan at first…hated him for his deception and for keeping me from you. I pretended to love him in order to aid in my escape, but it tormented my soul. Not only because it was a lie, but because it felt like a betrayal to you.” She opened his hand and placed the flower in it. “I gave my heart to you, Tristan. I could never fall in love with another. Lorcan and I formed a bond, but all I could ever offer him was friendship.”
A lump rose in Tristan’s throat, recognizing his mistake. “I’m sorry, Gwyneth. I realize now, I had no reason to doubt your loyalty, but my own insecurities clouded my thinking. Can you forgive me?”
She moved closer and kissed his cheek, erasing all the grief and doubt from his heart. “Does that answer your question?”
He grinned while placing the flower in his pocket and hugged her close to him. “Aye, it does, my love. I am so blessed to have you back in my life. When I thought you were gone from this world, it was the worst anguish I’ve ever experienced. Now, holding you in my arms, I feel as though my world is right again. We can accomplish anything with God’s help.”
She sighed and rested her head against his chest. “I feel the same way. I wish we could just put this behind us and go home to start our lives together.”
“Who’s to say we can’t? We’ll find Isla and then be on our way.”
Gwyneth sat up to meet his gaze, her chin trembling. “Isla and I were separated. She was sent to Beibhinn as a maid. We have to find her, Tristan.”
His heart sunk, realizing time had ran out to rescue his cousin, but he put on a brave face for Gwyneth. “We’ll find her. I promise you. It may take some time to gather an army and formulate a plan. I’ve only traveled that far north a few times and have limited knowledge of the land of Beibhinn. However, I’m sure some of my crew will have connections.” He sighed, thinking of the tasks ahead, but then forced his thoughts back to the present. “For now, we need to concentrate on finding Leland and returning to the ship. The terrain will be rough, but if we keep a steady pace, we should reach the fortress by nightfall.” He paused to study her ruined gown, still caked in sand and damp from falling in the river. “But first, we’ll have to find you something suitable to wear.”
Gwyn was surprised she could keep up with the men as they made their treacherous climb up the ravine. Thankfully, between Tristan and his two crew members, they had an extra tunic and pair of trousers in their satchels for her to change into. The clothing felt foreign on her and several sizes too large, but with a belt to complete the ensemble, she had cinched the trousers as close to her waist as she could and made it work. Gwyn had also gathered her tangled hair into a haphazard braid to keep it out of her face. It certainly wasn’t her best look, but at the moment she was content to be in clean, dry clothes, suitable for climbing.
After making their way to the top, they stopped in a small forested area to rest. Tristan handed her his canteen and she took a long drink before handing it back to him. “What do you think we should expect when we draw closer to the fortress?”
“I’m not certain. The army has no commander with Lorcan gone…and Fergus…”
“He’s dead,” Gwyn cut in, staring down at her hands. “It happened so fast, but I know you must have seen what I did.”
“Aye.” Tristan lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “‘Twas self-defense. There is no reason for you to feel ashamed.”
She nodded. “I know. With how many people he has killed and the lives he’s ruined, he needed to be stopped. I’ve just never taken a person’s life before.”
“It never gets any easier Gwyneth. It’s not supposed to be. When killing becomes easy—when another person’s life has no value—that’s when you turn into someone evil like Fergus or Malcolm. I still feel regret after every battle. At all costs, I try to injure and not kill if possible. However, when it is necessary, I take solace knowing what I have done preserved the lives of my loved ones and the future of Ardena. Fergus wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you and your family if given the chance.”
She nodded, wiping a few tears with the back of her sleeve. “Aye, you’re right. I believe he would have. I suppose I’ll just have to hand the matter over to God and leave it there.”
He took her hand in his, pausing to kiss it. “I couldn’t have said it better, my love. Your heart has remained so pure, in spite of all that has happened and your courage has inspired me. If it were up to me, I would ensure you never have to go through any turmoil like this ever again.”
She smiled and touched his cheek. “But we are not in control of that, are we? There will be more trouble ahead, I’m afraid. More battles to fight.”
His smile faded. “Do you know something I do not?”
“Lady Kyna is building an army. Lorcan told me there would be more men coming from his land…more than we could imagine.”
“I should have known better than to underestimate her. If we allow her to, she will become an even greater adversary than Fergus or Malcolm.”
“What do you suggest we do then?”
Tristan stood and began to gather his satchel. “I’m not certain yet. We must pray the solution presents its self soon.” He offered a hand to help her up. “For now, we must concentrate on the task at hand.” When she stood to her full height, he brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her.
She blushed and turned her face away, noticing his two crew members grinning at them. She took his hand, leading him behind the trunk of a large tree for privacy and raised an eyebrow at him, whispering, “That was part of the task at hand? Or have I become a distraction for you?”
He grinned. “I apologize. When you are near, I am always prone to distraction. A welcome distraction, I might add. I’ve been longing to kiss you all day, but we are never alone.”
She released a nervous chuckle, looking down at her odd attire. “You still want to kiss me, even when I look like this? I must be quite a sight.”
He pulled her close again and lifted her chin. “Aye, a beautiful sight, as always. What you are wearing matters very little to me.” He leaned in to kiss her and this time she didn’t resist.
As Tristan’s soft lips moved over hers, she forgot where they were and
the danger they would soon face. They had almost lost each other and now they were reunited. It was all that mattered.
When they came out from behind the tree, Tristan’s men were chuckling to themselves. He took notice and aimed a stern look in their direction. “What are you two laughing about? Prepare to depart and make haste about it. There’s no time to lose.”
“Aye, Your Majesty,” they replied, scrambling to do his bidding.
Tristan turned and winked at her when his crew members’ backs were turned and Gwyn struggled to contain her laughter.
The second half of the journey was much easier than the first and Tristan was thankful. The only disadvantage was, after they left the forest, the land flattened out and there was little to provide cover. They had to be vigilant to not be seen. After reaching a line of cliffs by the sea, they could breathe a little easier. There was a small cave Tristan thought would be a good place to rest and eat a ration of food. When it was dark, they would head toward the fortress in search of Leland.
He and Gwyneth were searching for dry wood when he heard crunching gravel near them. He reached for her and put his index finger over his lips. Then they crouched behind a rock formation.
Tristan watched as a man appeared. His uniform was disheveled, but he recognized the golden Kielyan emblem of a lion. It slowly registered to him he had to be one of Leland’s men. “We are friends of Kiely and mean you no harm,” he said, stepping into view.
The man startled at first, reaching for his sword, but then relaxed, his eyes filling with recognition. “Your Majesty. Praise be to God you are safe.”
“Aye, we were hoping to meet up with Leland. How did you come to be at this part of the isle? Has something gone amiss?”
“We were attacked while trying to rescue Lady Isla, Your Highness. I’m sorry to inform you, our mission was a failure. The princess was taken.”
Tristan’s heart dropped. “And Leland? Where is he?”
Lady Gwyneth's Hope (Ladies of Ardena Book 4) Page 15
