by Wood, Lynn
“Let’s go,” he announced to the man at his side. “I’ve had my fill of this damp Saxon wilderness and going to sleep at night with my brother’s corpse a stone’s throw away.”
Luke’s men met the announcement they were returning immediately to London with obvious relief. If they were puzzled by the mystery of the woman their lord insisted on caring for these past weeks while they cooled their heels in unprotected, enemy territory, they were wise enough not to give voice to their confusion. Luke knew his missing stallion was likely a source of a great deal of silent speculation but again no questions were asked and no explanations offered. His dark mood didn’t invite presumptuous queries and none dared make them, despite his usual easy-going manner with his men.
After a few days of back-tracking they came upon the starting point of their search. Stoney Point. Luke cursed the day he ever heard the name on the lips of Nathan’s young wife, almost as much as he cursed his father for summoning him from his own affairs to take on this thankless search for his profligate, missing son and heir. Luke realized he’d done a lot of cursing lately, particularly on the way back to the secluded cove where Melissa’s craft capsized and set in motion the course of events of the past several weeks.
It was still there, the remnants of her broken boat though there was evidence of curious animals having scavenged among the remains. Witnessing their arrival in the cove, Mason’s captain lowered a skiff into the shallow water and rowed out to meet them. At the sight of Luke’s forbidding expression, the older man regarded him warily.
“Was your search successful, my lord?” The man asked, his face scanning the serious expressions of Luke’s men and seeing no sign of his lord’s elder son.
“In a manner of speaking, Captain. My brother is dead. He either fell or was forced off the side of a cliff. Mercifully, if you can call it that under the circumstances, his body landed on a sharp, protruding stone. His end at least, was quick.”
Luke watched the older man’s face pale at the news of Mason’s death. Luke was unsure whether it was grief over his future lord’s death or the thought of the current Michaels lord’s reaction to the news. “My condolences, my lord, on your loss.”
Luke nodded, and then informed him briskly. “Captain, I must return to London to pay my respects to the king and give him the news of my brother’s death. Have you made the necessary repairs to the ship?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Excellent. Then I will leave my brother’s body in your care and return to London the way we came. If you’ll meet us there, I will accompany you back to Normandy to deliver the news of his heir’s death to my father personally.”
Luke saw the relief flood the other man’s face at Luke’s announcement he would not be the one asked to deliver the unpleasant news of his son’s death to the Michaels lord. “Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord.”
The detour to Stoney Point was a short one. After Mason’s men took charge of their unpleasant burden, Luke and his men set off again. Luke recognized his journey to London would be shorter gliding along the water than riding across the Saxon wilderness, but part of him still held out hope they might yet cross Melissa’s path along the way. Before they left Stoney Point, he examined again the wreckage of her small vessel. There was no indication she’d returned.
So it was with mixed feelings he began the final stage of his journey to London. He was no longer certain what he expected to find when they arrived back in the city, but he was undeniably relieved to be rid of the burden of his dead brother’s eyes following his every move. At times on their journey back to Stoney Point he thought he could hear the sound of Mason’s mocking laughter at his foolishness to have fallen in love with the Saxon witch. ‘Isn’t that rich?’ he imagined his brother’s familiar voice taunting him from the rear of their company where one of his men led the horse that bore his brother’s dead body. “The new Michaels lord, heir to vast wealth and dozens of rich estates, could not even persuade a Saxon whore to remain his wife. I can assure you, brother, she would not have run from me after experiencing the attentions of a true man. No, your precious whore would have begged me to ride her again and again until she died from the pleasure of it.”
Luke was so enraged by Mason’s imagined blasphemy, he was tempted to wait and allow the soldier leading his brother’s corpse to catch up to him so he could hack his dead body into a dozen pieces and feed it to the crows. He only refrained from doing so because his more rational side reasserted itself in time to convince him the violent act, which would no doubt prove immensely satisfying, would fail to bring him the relief he sought from his dead brother’s imaginary scorn.
Three days into their journey Luke saw a familiar sight at the crest of the next hill, his chestnut coat gleaming in the mid-afternoon sun. His proud stallion didn’t race to his lord’s side, but instead waited lazily grazing on the winter grass for their party to reach him. Luke dismounted from his borrowed mount and approached his horse. Asis appeared none the worse from whatever venture he’d so recently embarked upon. Luke stroked his old friend’s proud neck fondly, and Asis dipped his head in acknowledgement of his affectionate gesture.
Luke didn’t know what to think about his horse’s sudden reappearance. Had the Salusians sent him back to his rightful owner after he’d executed his errand of delivering Melissa to them? Or was Rafe’s presumption the correct one? Had Melissa fallen off his stallion’s back in the course of her attempted escape? Had Asis remained with her until she’d succumbed to her injuries? Then once death claimed her mortal body, and with his responsibilities to the stone keeper honored, had Asis then returned to Luke’s side?
Since the only one present at the moment was incapable of giving him the answers he sought, Luke was left to speculate on the possibilities of every evil consequence of Melissa’s recklessness. Did some beast catch up with the two of them in the wilderness? Was it the four legged or two legged variety? Did Melissa avoid the fate his brother planned for her only to be caught wandering alone in the wilderness by a patrol of undisciplined soldiers with only her slim dagger and his loyal horse to defend her against them?
Luke’s feelings of guilt mercilessly fueled his regret. He shouldn’t have abandoned her. She’d been ill, gravely so. He was a fool. Doubly so, letting his pride and self-righteous anger at what he believed was her plan for revenge against his brother to muddle his ability to reason. Rafe was right. As usual. He should have listened to him when he had the chance.
His guilt continued to ride him hard on their near silent journey to London. Rafe and his men adopted their own brooding moods from their lord’s. It was with a heavy heart Luke finally approached the city with his small company of men. The task confronting him was an unwelcome one and weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He would have to deliver the news of her sister’s loss to Lady Rhiann, and confess he’d abandoned his search for Melissa when her sister escaped his protection.
His regret and guilt warred with each other until he could not be certain which ate away at him more. Compounding both were his memories of the night he’d spent with Melissa and the tender words they exchanged. He would not share those memories with anyone, even her beloved sister. They were his alone to both comfort and condemn him for the long years he would be forced to live without her.
Chapter Eleven
On the eve of the new king’s coronation, Lady Rhiann sat at the king’s table beside her husband at the completion of the evening meal and only half listened to the conversations going on around her. In her delicate condition she was having more difficulty than usual keeping the late hours the king seemed so fond of, but it was not only the late hours to be blamed for her exhaustion. She spent many of her waking hours evading her husband’s constant questions about her family and her past. At his insistence she already shared with him as much as she believed he needed to know in order to protect her from the enemies he seemed convinced lurked around every corner. Since she’d been kidnapped by one of those enemies she thought i
t best to placate his righteous rage by confiding in him a few of the details of her mother’s family history.
Unfortunately Nathan was not satisfied by the skimpy facts she shared with him, nor she suspected did he believe her claim of being too young when she first heard the specifics herself to remember them now. No, Nathan seemed intent on prying into every hidden corner of her past. Why couldn’t he just let it all go? The past no longer mattered, especially with Melissa and Michel gone. Could he not understand how painful it was for her to dwell on the loss of her family?
The inheritance passed to her at her mother’s death weighed heavily upon her thoughts. The Salusian stone was her responsibility now. She wished she could just remove the chain from around her neck and return the stone to her grandmother’s keeping but she understood such a hope was impossible. Besides, even if the stone would cooperate with her plan, her grandmother would refuse to accept it. The stone had passed to a new keeper, unworthy as she was in her own eyes. Unlike its human stewards, the stone never looked back, nor was it forced to battle with inconvenient human emotions like regret, resentment and grief. Though Rhiann couldn’t bring herself to regret the promise she made to her dying mother to accept the stone and the responsibilities accompanying it, clearly she should have listened a little closer to the stories surrounding her inheritance when she was younger.
She hadn’t lied to the madman who kidnapped her and who risked certain death in order to possess her ancient inheritance. Surely a grown man would not credit the silly legends about the stone’s power. She could almost wish she had allowed him to live a bit longer. At least long enough to share with her exactly what it was he thought the stone was capable of. Whatever his belief, it had been enough to lure him to abduct her and demand she instruct him in regards to the secret powers hidden within the unusual jewel. She would have no doubt found his ridiculous questions amusing if he was not waving his blade in front of her face at the time and threatening to slice her throat with it.
There was only one person left alive who could unlock the mystery for her, but she wasn’t certain now was the time to entertain the notion of such a visit, what with Nathan in such a prickly mood. He was still needling her about the question of who was her grandmother’s heir now that the rest of her family was gone. For the moment Rhiann thought it best to keep her husband away from her grandmother, at least until Luke returned with either Michel or Melissa, or word of their deaths. But what if there was no word? What if no definitive proof of their deaths ever presented itself? Where did that leave her? As the new reluctant guardian of an inheritance she neither wanted nor understood?
Lost in thought, she leaned against her husband’s strong shoulder as she continued her silent musings. Nathan was engaged in conversation with another baron to his left and the king and queen seemed engrossed in their own discussion. Rhiann decided it was safe to close her eyes for a moment or two. As she drifted off to sleep her hand reached up to clasp the stone and her fist closed around it, hiding its light.
“Do not concern yourself daughter, you will not carry this burden much longer.”
Even as she acknowledged she must dreaming, Rhiann couldn’t suppress her curiosity at the sound of the voice she heard so clearly in her mind. “Who are you?”
“I am the true mistress of the stone. The daughters of your mother’s family have acted as my stewards for many generations.”
“It’s yours? Thank God! Have you come to take it back then?” The relief Rhiann felt at the prospect of ridding herself of the weight of her burden was overwhelming.
Amused laughter greeted her enthusiastic response. “No, child. The rightful steward will return soon to assume her responsibility for the stone.”
“Melissa? Are you saying Melissa will return soon?”
“Yes. Have you not wondered at Arden’s absence?”
“I thought maybe I was a disappointment to him and he left me too.” Rhiann confessed sadly. She knew she had not inherited her sister’s courageous spirit.
Her visitor laughed. The sound was as pure and welcome as the portent of spring in the midst of winter. “Arden is actually quite fond of you, my dear. He left on an errand for me.”
“To find Melissa?”
“Your sister was never lost to us, but yes, to bring her to you so the stone could be reunited with its intended steward.”
Tears filled Rhiann’s eyes. “My sister is alive?”
Rhiann could almost feel her companion’s gentle caress. “Alive but gravely injured. She will need your tender care to help her heal from her injuries.”
“Yes, yes of course. Perhaps I should go out to look for her.”
“That is not necessary. Even as we speak Arden approaches the king’s gates.”
“Then I must go. My sister needs me.”
“Yes, you must go. Melissa needs you.”
“Thank you.”
The same delightful laugh again. “I place a worrisome burden upon you and you thank me, daughter?”
Rhiann hesitated, “You are not my mother.”
“No, but we share the same blood.”
Rhiann was too worried about her sister to question her imaginary companion more closely. She stirred in her sleep and her hand fell from where it clutched the stone to rest in her lap. She snuggled closer against her husband’s warmth, and then abruptly the full import of her dream intruded upon her semi-conscious state. She sat up and recalled the mysterious woman’s promise Arden was even now approaching the gates with her gravely injured sister. She popped up from her place on the bench and would have sought the king’s permission to excuse herself from the gathering had Nathan’s hand not shot out to both steady and restrain her.
“Rhiann, what is it? Are you ill?”
Rhiann’s mind boggled at the thought of trying to explain her recent experience to her husband, especially given the fact, like most men of her acquaintance, he was not the most open-minded recipient of testimony beyond the reach of his eyes and physical strength.
Searching desperately for an explanation he would accept without a thousand and one questions to delay her, she offered hopefully, “Arden’s back. I wish to make certain all is well with him.”
Brows raised, his skeptical glance searched hers. The look in them confirmed her husband would not easily accept her explanation at face value. “If what you say is true, wife, Arden is quite capable of taking care of himself until morning. I will take you to see him then.”
Rhiann audibly sighed her frustration. “My errand cannot wait until morning, husband. I must see Arden now.” She was aware of the attention they were beginning to attract, what with her standing at the table in front of the bench in a rather awkward manner and Nathan’s restraining hand on her arm.
“If you must see Arden now, Rhiann, you will have to come up with a more plausible explanation than the one you offered me.”
“Why must you be so difficult?” She muttered beneath her breath, anxious to get to her sister’s side.
“Why must you be so evasive?”
Nathan wasn’t impressed by her impatience. She tugged on her arm. His grip was not painful but nor was there any give in it. She could feel the amused eyes of the king and queen as well as their neighboring diners on their little scene, even as she continued to struggle to free herself from Nathan’s iron grip.
“Fine, you are not going to believe me, but I will tell you the truth.”
“That should prove a new experience for you.” Nathan commented drily.
“Very amusing, husband.”
“I am waiting, wife.”
Rhiann released another frustrated sigh, tried one last time to free herself, and then admitted defeat. “Arden found Melissa. He’s bringing her back to me.”
“How do you know that?”
“You likely will not be pleased with my answer.”
“No doubt.”
“Please, Nathan could we discuss this later? Melissa is injured. She needs me.”
H
e met her tearful glance and then his own dipped to where the stone rested against her chest. His eyes widened in astonishment. “Rhiann, why is the stone red now?”
“What?” Astonished by her husband’s claim, Rhiann looked down at the jeweled stone that lay nestled between her breasts. Rather than the emerald green color it had taken on the day she put it around her own neck, the amulet glowed a deep, ruby red. For the first time in long months, true hope filled her heart.
“Nathan, the stone is red.” Her awed agreement was echoed in a hushed whisper.
“I just pointed that fact out to you.”
“Don’t you see?” Rhiann impatiently tugged on her arm again. “The stone has taken on the color it will wear around Melissa’s neck. She’s here. Please, please do not let us stand here debating the matter while my sister needs me.”
Reluctantly, Nathan stood and sent one of his soldiers to retrieve his wife’s cloak from his room. “With your permission, Sire.”
“Of course, Nathan. I look forward to welcoming your sister into my home,” the king added courteously in Rhiann’s direction.
She smiled warmly in response. “Thank you, your highness. Forgive me for interrupting your evening.”
The two bowed their heads in the monarch’s direction and Nathan was forced to keep a tight grip around his wife’s hand as she hurried to the door. When his soldier returned with her cloak, he wrapped it close around her shoulders, and together they left the keep, one filled with the hope of the strange woman’s promise echoing in her ears that her sister was about to be returned to her alive, the other wondering what bizarre turn his new, young wife was about to lead him down now.
