by kps
"You ... I thought you were dead, Rodrigo." Jenny shivered, her entire body wracked with trembling. Even the bitter cold of winter in Montana had not left her as icy as the touch of this man who was supposed to be dead. With a care and consideration that was uncharacteristic, he drew her toward a chair and settled her in it. She looked up at Rodrigo with such bewilderment that he regretted his harshness and took her hand in his, chafing it to warm the pallid flesh.
"I am very much alive, Jena," he said, studying the pale, bloodless cast of her fair complexion. "Perhaps, before I answer your questions, you will answer one of mine. How was it that you came to be so positive I was dead? Has my brother assumed my title?" Jenny nodded, wearily explaining in a few words about the funeral.
"I see. My little brother finally saw his chance and, no doubt due to Inez's nagging influence, seized it. However, I am not angered. He is welcome to the duchy, he and his hoard of ugly brats. I have everything I want right here." Rodrigo squeezed her hand and added,
"Especially now, mi cara bella. I would imagine that it was Sebastiano who was buried in my name. The poor fool died of a fever not one hundred fifty miles from this very spot. I was indeed dismayed to lose such a faithful servant."
Jenny raised her head. "You lost a brother, Rodrigo. Have you no feelings?"
His fine, dark brows drew together in a puzzled frown, and his laughter was mocking. "For a bastard? What is the life or death of one of my father's by-blows to me? There were so many, one fewer makes no difference to the world." He dismissed the subject then as unworthy of further conversation and rang for a servant. "You must be worn by your journey; I will not make you face the full court at supper tonight. We will dine here where we can talk privately. I have so much to tell you."
Rodrigo ordered their meal, -and while they awaited it, the servant poured a glass of red wine for her. "There are drawbacks to the isolation of this spot. We must make do with what is grown here for our foodstuffs and wines," he observed. "This is one of the best wines they have managed, fermented of local berries. You will like it, Jena, and perhaps it will bring some color back into your face. I have never liked paIe, colorless beauties."
When they were settled across from each other at the small table the servant had set up, Rodrigo drew her attention to the plates and serving pieces. Everything, including the cutlery, was forged of heavy, glistening gold.. "It is real, my love, pure gold melted down from the offerings of the Chibcha Indians, given in tribute to this country's founder two hundred years before Columbus landed at the mouth of the Orinoco! Believe me, you have never before eaten from such an expensive service. The wealth concentrated in this tiny land would have made Queen Isabella herself green with envy."
Jenny was beginning to see why Rodrigo cared so little for the loss of his dukedom. She had little appetite for the highly spiced food, a dish consisting of lamb in a thick, sweet-tasting sauce. A thousand questions popped into her head, all answered before she could voice them as her husband continued his excited dialogue.
"We are in the fabled EI Dorado now, Jena," he went on. "Just think of it, wealth beyond belief, precious jewels such as the sapphire you're wearing, diamonds and emeralds that exceed its size! And it all belongs to me now."
"Because you brought armed men to overthrow the people? How long can you last here with that type of ... dictatorship? Be sensible, Rodrigo, you have always been that, at least!
When your stores of ammunition run out, how will you maintain control of a populace who must resent your presence?"
Rodrigo peered across the table, wondering at the perception his wife showed. He had never given Jena much credit for thought, had always considered her a pretty plaything, amusing but not one to discuss serious topics with. He smiled, enjoying their conversation. She had not only grown more beautiful, but more inquisitive and independent. "I will discuss that with you later, mi cara. Suffice to say now that I have enough of a stock of arms to last as long as I would like it to. Let me tell you instead about how this Elysium came to be and how I found it."
Jenny continued to sip at the wine while Rodrigo went on in his enthusiasm to reveal the mysteries of the colony of European settlers who had founded what was called Beann Gowd'en. "It is a harsh language, this Gaelic the Scots use, but at least they do not speak it often. Their language is a rough form of Old English and really quite understandable once one is accustomed to the cadence." He leaned forward, forgetting to eat as he spoke with relish of what was now his. "We live in another time here, Jena. The customs haven't changed for five hundred years. This city where Sir Thomas built his castle isn't even fortified. What need is there of stone walls or battlements when Neowe Erceldoune lies on a plain nearly three thousand feet above the valley floor? There is only one passage to the top, and it is well-hidden, so camouflaged that I nearly missed it my first time here."
Jenny took a deep draft of wine, bitterly reflecting on the phrase, "first time." It was obviously when he'd left and journeyed out of the Guayana to hire his mercenaries that Alazar had made his fateful sighting. How different her life would be if he had only missed seeing Rodrigo that day. "And so when your armory runs dry of ammunition you.will take as much wealth as possible and leave these people. Is that your plan?" Jenny pressed him for the answer he'd shied away from earlier.
"You are very perceptive, Jena. But there is a treasure of which I have not spoken yet, and it directly concerns you." He tilted his head back and drank from his glass. "Yes, I am puzzling you. It is time to show you my treasure. It seems that the fatigue and shock of seeing me again has robbed you of your appetite. Come." He rose and moved around the table, catching her hand to help her up. For the first time, his face looked pleasant as he smiled, his white teeth flashing against his dark skin, and Jenny had a glimpse of the man who had so enchanted her at the age of sixteen.
But Jenny was not sixteen now. She was a woman who had known love and lost it because of the man who held her hand, who was smiling at her as though nothing had happened when everything she'd held dear was gone. Again, as she withdrew her hand from his, Rodrigo mistook her shiver of revulsion for mere fatigue.
He led the way across the room to a bookcase and very carefully lifted down an aged manuscript. That was like him, Jenny thought, watching the delicate way he laid the fragile, yellowed sheaf of papers on a nearby table, opened them to a particular spot, and asked her to be seated on the carved bench before the table.
"Read this page. If you have trouble deciphering a word here or there, I'll translate it for you.
I know this section of Sir Thomas's diary by heart."
Jenny glanced down at the page, and to her tired; swollen eyes, the Gothic script seemed to blur, but the date, written clearly in the top left hand comer caught her interest. It read,
"Twenty-three, June, thirteen hundred thirteen, Anno Domini" As she began to read the message, she could almost hear Sir Thomas's voice and the pain it held.
This night have I used the Anacaiypses for the first time in a decade and Would to God that I had not! My Elainn is no longer. The Englishe seized Her and have tried her falsely for A witche, broken the tender body and consign'd it to the fate of all suche Pityfule creatures. a fiery death at the stake. Her crime was loyalty to the Bruce. She lent support to His cause bye predicting a victory of such magnitude at Bannockburn that her prophece did cheer and raise up the goode Men of Scotland. to his side.
She made no crye as the flames did dance round her. T'was her pride, still unbroke, that kept the Dominican Cedric of Bath from enjoying her last agony. The Victory is assur'd, I saw it e'en as did Elainn and t'will be a Greate and remembered day for all it has cost.
Is't my faulte my belov'd is perished? I can only guess that she knew her Fate the day she gave the accursed crystal into my keep. Would that I Coulde change that moment. Ne'r again will I look in that damnable Windowe, for through it I have Seen my lyfe go out with the last sigh . Her Breath. Cedric, devil that he is, shall pay for this Injusti
ce and pay again until he is wearied ojpaying, then once more!
I have Buried the boxe … what it contains is not the Anacalypses to me now, but Anathema, a curse awaits the Poor people who finds it. To See the future and be unable to stop the Tide of destiny e'en As I was impotent to help my Love. Under the shadows of Grace will it Rest. I praye, untouched but Bye the Devotions of the Eaithjulle, May God have mercy on my Elainn; Her agony has ended, mine only begun.
Jenny was crying when she finished, though whether it was for her own lost love or Thomas's, she was unsure. Anxious to reveal the genius he'd shown in recovering the box Sir Thomas had mentioned, Rodrigo ignored Jenny's open emotion and reached up to the top shelf of the bookcase, gingerly holding the ancient box he'd found. It was still amazingly well preserved, and, as he placed it in front of Jenny and opened it, the odor of cedar seemed as fresh as when it was first made.
Jenny wiped at her tears with the back of one hand; they would not change what had.
happened-an ocean of tears would not. In the background she could hear Rodrigo's voice, as though from a great distance, droning on about the crystal known as the Anacalypses, talking of the prophecies Sir Thomas and his lost love Elainn had seen in it, asking her if she saw any images reflected. At first glance she'd been struck by the beauty of the clear egg-shaped stone. It had sparks of fire, flecks of gold and green, blue and rose dancing within it.
She leaned closer, mesmerized by the crystal and the almost cloudy mist that lay at its center. Suddenly the mist seemed to shift, parting as though a veil was being drawn aside and Jenny's breath caught in her throat as … as she saw Dev's face in profile, his eyes closed, his features as still as death. She was unaware that Rodrigo called out her name, unaware that she seemed to be in a trance; and as Dev's mouth seemed to part in a groan and his eyes fluttered open, Jenny fainted, slipping into the strong hands of her husband, a man whose face showed his clear determination to know what she had seen.
Twenty
The entourage of courtly nobles, guarded closely by a cordon of Rodrigo's cutthroats, wound through the neat, cobbled streets of the town that had sprung up around the walls of the castle of Neowe Erceldoune. Though Jenny was impressed with the unusual cleanliness of the small city and the apparent well-being of its citizens, the ride intensified her feeling of having stepped into the unreal world of a child's storybook land. Only, as far as Jenny could tell, this illusionary tale had no happy ending and the plot's villain rode at her side, with no one to rescue her from his clutches.
They passed throngs of people, none of whom seemed to suffer from any want or need.
Neowe Erceldoune was indeed lovely as the early morning mists burned away and rolled back to the edges of the mountain's steep cliffs. There were no shuns or poorer sections in evidence, no ragged beggars to inhibit them, and even though they might secretly desire to be freed of Rodrigo's rule, no one appeared to be openly rebellious. Even the farmers, in from their fields with fresh produce for the open-air market at the town square, seemed prosperous, dressed in sturdy, if somewhat plain, attire.
Lady Fiona rode at Jenny's left and noting the puzzled expression she wore, leaned closer to explain the background of her subjects. "We've known na' a whit of poverty since my ancestor, Sir Thomas, settled Beann Gowd'en, m'lady, though I'm sure it exists still, where ye're from. From the very first Laird Thomas felt a great duty to those who'd loyally accompanied him here. Until ye'r husband's arrival, it has been a tradition in m' family to be the caretakers of Beann Gowd'en and take responsibility for the welfare of our own."
Jenny offered a smile, pleased with the first mild civility that Fiona had shown her. "Your land is truly lovely, Lady Fiona. I find it no great wonder that your subjects would retain their loyalty under such concerned leadership." She glanced at Rodrigo, riding to her right with an air of haughty indifference to his surroundings.
Fiona's face took on a shuttered look as she dwelt upon her bitterness toward the arrogant interloper who had usurped her authority. For a moment, as Rodrigo suddenly spurred his mount to a gallop and rode to. the front of the party, the hatred she bore him was revealed as she glared icily at his back. "The new Laird is putting tha' loyalty to the test, Lady Jennifer.
Ye're husband has levied a tax on all my people, be they high-born or low." Their pace had slowed because of some obstruction ahead and Fiona pounced on the chance to get in a word of influence with Jenny. Once more she leaned close, her voice hushed as she made a plea. "Can ye naepersuade him otherwise, Lady? T'is clear to all tha' he places a very high value on yel"
Jenny's mouth curled with bitter cynicism. If Fiona only knew the truth of the relationship Jenny shared with Rodrigo, she would not have wasted the breath to even make such a request. "I've no powers of persuasion, Lady Fiona, or else I wouldn't be here. I am my husband's possession, his chattel, as much a prisoner as any of your people, perhaps more of one." She shrugged her shoulders with a helpless gesture. "I have little to offer you but my sympathies." After a moment's pause, she added, "Surely they cannot hold you to blame for such a tax? Until Rodrigo came, there never was such a levy."
"And why should there've been? We've always had an abundance of every luxury, every necessity-what need is there to be overly greedy?" Fiona glanced forward again, her gray eyes narrowed in antagonism., "Greed! T'was what Sir Thomas sought to escape when he came here, and yet, after all these many years, it has sought us out. If I could but gather all the riches in the land, I would do it in a second and be happy to see him gone wi' the lot!"
Jenny shivered at the vehemence in the woman's voice and watched as Fiona gave her horse a savage kick and spurred it forward at a gallop, racing until she reined in at Rodrigo's side. A few moments later the sound of her light, coquettish laughter floated back to Jenny, and she shivered again. That one was as cold and ruthless as Rodrigo himself. Fiona was a lovely young woman, with pale, milky skin and auburn hair. Though she was at least five years older than Jenny, the difference in their ages was not apparent.
Jenny was sure that a certain portion of her antagonism for Rodrigo came from an affair that he, more than likely, had begun and ended. Though she and Fiona had little enough in common except a shared hatred of Rodrigo's high-handed, overbearing ways, Jenny doubted that they could have been friends. When she'd failed to mask her true feelings, Fiona had revealed a malicious cunning as part of her personality, and Jenny was sure she was included in the woman's hatred of Rodrigo.
Deep in her own thoughts, Jenny made no effort to catch up with the other two. What was she doing here? Rodrigo alternately placed her on a pedestal and then ignored her. This tour had been arranged for her benefit, yet the pair who rode ahead, their heads bent together in intimate conversation, seemed to have forgotten her presence.
Except for her bitter memories of Dev's death and the guilt she felt for leading him toward it, Jenny might have believed that the past year was only a dream. Several times since that first night she'd gazed into the crystal. Rodrigo had requested that she "read" for him and give her impressions of the future. She had not been able to tell him much, but the one, recurring image she saw was Dev's face. Did this mean that he was still alive? Jenny couldn't allow herself that hope. Besides, if he were here, in Beann Gowd'en, why hadn't he tried to see her, to make some attempt to rescue her from Rodrigo's cruel possession?
Her hands tightened on the reins, her fingers gripping the pommel of her saddle until they were white with the effort. She must keep herself from speculating, from remembering the security and warmth of Dev's arms. She could go mad with such memories and longings, and that was something she could not now afford. Though she'd lost Dev, she carried his child.
Rodrigo had taken the shocking news calmly enough, extracting a promise from her that he might claim the child's paternity. What else was she to do but agree?
Little noting the passing scenery, Jenny finally shook off her melancholy to find that their party had progressed beyond the town and into t
he countryside. She drew a sharp breath, astonished by the verdant, rolling fields and pastures that stretched in every direction.
Though Beann Gowd'en lay atop a mountain in the midst of a tropical rain forest, its height above the steaming, humid valley floor made the climate temperate enough to give the land an appearance similar to certain agricultural sections of England. Some tropical trees and plants were in evidence, but the plowed fields were planted with crops that had grown in the settlers' native Scotland. Flocks of sheep were grazing on a nearby hillock, and a young girl was chasing a honking, protesting flock of white geese down the road. The scene was so pastoral that Jenny had the impression she was back home in England.Ahead of them, a large lake shimmered golden in the sunlight, adding to the tranquillity of the area.
Rodrigo's voice, low and annoyingly confident, startled Jenny as his huge stallion danced close to her mount. "It's very much like England, si, Jena? I knew if anyone would appreciate this view, it would be you." His honeyed tone dripped with acid, reminding her without saying so aloud, that she would never be allowed to return to England. She ignored his show of solicitude, preferring to watch the tiny, white-crested waves roll across the water, propelled by a strong wind that had suddenly risen.
Beann Gowd' en was an idyllic spot, a perfect place to spend a lifetime With Dev it would have been a paradise … without him the beauty of the tranquil scene was dulled and meaningless. They were now in full view of the lake, and at her side Rodrigo dismounted and allowed one of his men to lead his charger away to graze, while he reached up to sweep Jenny down from her mare.
Twenty yards to their left, a sturdy wooden dock stretched out almost thirty feet into the blue-gold waters of the lake. Fiona and her attendants were on the dock, preparing to board a small sailing craft moored there. With one of his arms draped possessively about Jenny's shoulders, Rodrigo waved a gentlemanly salute to the departing ladies, bowing politely in their direction before he smiled down at his wife. Despite the arrogance that distorted his strong, swarthy face, setting it in a perpetual sneer or frown, Rodrigo still was as handsome as the day 'she'd met him.. His smile, though, was as always a chilling sight to behold, for there was no amusement in his dark eyes, only an ever-present mockery of everything they beheld.
