Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series)

by Richards, K. R.

  He sat on the edge of the bed then moved closer to his wife. He leaned his back against the tall headboard. He stretched his long, powerful legs out. He smiled down at her.

  “It is more comfortable here, I do agree.”

  “I knew you were uncomfortable,” she smiled at him.

  “I wasn’t that uncomfortable.”

  “You are stubborn, I see.” She lifted an amused eyebrow at him.

  Marrek grinned broadly then shrugged. “I suppose I am.”

  Catherine could not recall seeing Marrek grin before. It softened his harsh features considerably. Oh, she already thought him quite handsome. He was even more so grinning. She guessed she had just witnessed something that was quite out of character for him.

  Of course, his duties at the Department were of a serious nature. She was his duty for four years.

  She wondered if he still considered her his duty, even though they were married. The thought had never occurred to her before. She did not realize she was frowning until he whispered her name. She looked up to see the genuine concern, so clearly readable in his dark eyes and expression.

  “Kitty, what is the matter? Are you feeling unwell again?”

  “No. I – well you grinned. I’ve never seen you grin before,” she offered.

  Marrek chuckled. “If my grin causes you to frown so, I shant do it again anytime soon,” his tone was light and teasing.

  Catherine laughed. “It was not your grin.” She took a deep breath and decided to tell him. She had to. They were husband and wife. She must share her feelings with him. He had asked her to. It was imperative she did, and that they communicated in order for their relationship to work. She wanted this to work.

  “It was just a silly thought. I realized I had never seen you grin. Then I thought about how serious your duties at the department were, and I realized I had been your duty for four long years. I was just hoping,” she faltered, “that you still do not consider me your duty, was all.” Catherine met his gaze. “I don’t want to be your duty,” her voice was soft and serious. “I want to be your wife, Marrek.”

  Marrek gave her a soft smile. He caressed her cheek with his large hand. “You are not a duty to me, Kitty. You are my wife. You are my dearest friend.” He wanted to kiss her but knew he could not. Not after all the emotional turmoil she had been through today. It was still far too soon for him to show or to tell her how deep his feelings were for her.

  She smiled up at him, “You are a wonderful husband, Marrek, and my dearest friend.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  Marrek bent and kissed the top of her head. He felt peace at that moment. They had a long way to go, but he believed there was hope that someday, they might be truly man and wife. It was enough for him in this moment, this small thread of hope.

  “It is my wish that in the next two or three weeks, we can safely remove to Penhallow and get you settled in. I am eager for you to see your new home. I think you will like it there.” Marrek moved his arm and put it around her, drawing her closer against him as he gazed down into her gray-green eyes.

  “I’m certain I will love Penhallow. I am eager to see my new home as well. Will you tell me about it?”

  “I would love to tell you about our home,” Marrek proceeded to tell her about Penhallow.

  After their luncheon was brought to them, they spent time conversing. When Marrek thought Catherine began looking pale he urged her to lie back upon the pillows. After a time she fell asleep. Still stretched out upon her bed, he read while his wife slept nestled against him. Occasionally when she stirred, he would settle her with whispered words or a gentle caress. He realized there was now something deeper than had been between them before, something new. He was content with the fact their relationship was growing. For now, it was progress enough.

  “What are you doing, Zenny?” Gabriel asked as he entered the corridor leading to her room. He had eaten luncheon hastily and come upstairs to check on her before returning to the library. He never imagined he would see her out of her room and walking the corridor.

  “I am walking. I am very stiff and sore from lying in the bed,” Senny informed him.

  “Zenny, you are still weak. You should not be attempting to walk alone,” Gabriel said softly as he put his arm about her and gently turned her back toward the direction of her room.

  “I am feeling much better. I am perfectly capable of walking along the corridor,” Senny protested.

  She gave him that sunny smile that made his heart constrict. He smiled down at her. “How is your arm feeling?”

  “I have been trying to move it more and it feels better.”

  “Good. I knew it would not be long before you became restless. You are not accustomed to inactivity. You’ve had a bit of exercise. I’m asking that you rest this afternoon. I will come up after we finish in the library. While the others are dressing for dinner, I will take you for another walk along the corridor. Then I shall dine with you in our rooms tonight.”

  “Very well.” Senny again smiled at him. “I want to make certain we can marry in a few days. I promise I will not overdo. I would not want us to have to wait any longer to wed.” Her eyes darkened as she looked up at him. A slight pink blush bloomed upon her cheeks. She was eager for them to marry. Now knowing that Gabriel truly loved her, she was very eager to find out what coupling was all about. If it was anything like when they kissed, she guessed it would be quite wonderful.

  To say it surprised him that Zenny hinted she was anxious to partake in the physical part of their union was an understatement. The happiness it brought to him was priceless.

  “That is good thinking, for unless your health is an issue, I want us to marry on Tuesday.” He grinned at her. Gabriel wanted to marry Senny as soon as could be. It was becoming more difficult for him to kiss her and not go further. He wanted them to be man and wife. He wanted to share her bed, to share the physical union between man and woman with her. He wanted to make her his.

  “As it is almost time to change for dinner, we thought we would stop here and give updates. There is a party of us departing for Priory Place tomorrow at dawn. Therefore, we will not meet after dinner. Those of us remaining at Menadue will continue deciphering the Scrolls and Secretum Domini tomorrow. Most of us feel we can finish before dinner tomorrow evening,” Harry began.

  He continued, “We’ll take a couple of days after the first translation to work on the areas we could not pin-point or where we are not certain of the true meaning. Now we will get on with today’s translations.”

  Harry stood in the center of the library. With an amused smile, he turned to his angelic-looking wife, who could be quite un-angelic when she wanted to. “We’ll start with Lady Glaston.” He gave her a proper, gentlemanly bow.

  Rowena stood. She gave him a slight nod. “Thank you, Lord Glaston.”

  Tuesday stood up beside Rowena.

  “We have only three pages left of the Secretum Domini to translate and we will finish tomorrow. We did find something quite exciting this afternoon. Most of William’s information comes from older documents available during his lifetime. We suspect that he possibly read the scrolls, which you gentlemen are studying. William mentions studying ancient scrolls when he was about forty years old. He speaks of a relic of Our Lord that Abbot Whiting did not know existed. William read that it was hidden in Glastonbury at the time of Dunstan. Dunstan found original writings describing the original hiding place of the relic. William says he read in some ancient documents that Dunstan re-hid the relic left by Jesus somewhere safe in the Abbey. William states the documents were written by Dunstan himself.”

  Rowena smiled and continued, “Unfortunately, he does not mention the name of the document or book. Nor does he mention what the relic was. There are no clues so far as to the location. We hope to find more clues tomorrow.” Rowena indicated Tuesday beside her, “Lady Tuesday and Lady Fitzlewis began reading up on Dunstan.”

  Tuesday began, “We’ve learned that Du
nstan made quite a few changes to the Abbey. There was a large amount of building going on during his time as Abbot in Glastonbury. It is possible he hid these relics at that time. Perhaps we could deduce the locations where he might have hidden such a relic by studying the changes he made to the Abbey. Of course, there is the chance the relic was exposed, destroyed or taken during the Dissolution. It would be helpful if we could find actual writings by Dunstan. Lady Glaston and I looked in the library today. We found nothing written by Dunstan himself.”

  “Is there such a volume at Stonedown, Rowena?” Harry asked.

  “I don’t remember, Harry. There could be.”

  “I believe I saw one or two books either by Dunstan or about him when I was at Stonedown,” Micah offered.

  Harry nodded. “Does anyone in Cornwall have a volume containing writings by Dunstan?”

  The group gathered in Menadue’s library talked amongst themselves. None knew for certain, if they possessed a volume containing the actual writings of Dunstan.

  “Trevan might tell us where the volumes are that were brought to Cornwall from the secret chamber in the Tor tunnel beneath Stonedown. Perhaps some of us can peruse through the old volumes tomorrow and look for the writings of Dunstan,” Wyldhurst suggested.

  “Good idea, Luc. Perhaps you and Lyon could be in charge of that,” Trevan suggested.

  Both men agreed.

  The rest of the gentlemen reported that while they had found some interesting things in the scrolls, they had found nothing concrete enough to explain why the Knights of the Brown Order were intent upon stealing the scrolls from them. The group in the library filtered out. They would all but a few of them meet back in the dining room for dinner in an hour.

  “I must away to Priory Place tomorrow with Micah and Creed,” Jack told Tuesday as she took his arm. He led her from the library toward the stairs.

  “Will you be gone long? We are to be married in three days,” Tuesday arched a questioning eyebrow at him.

  “I leave tomorrow at dawn. We will arrive at August’s home early enough to take care of our business at St. Anthony’s Chapel before dark. We will stay the night at his home after we make rubbings of the pictographs and leave the following morning. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.” He watched her for her reaction. Though she didn’t look overly pleased, she nodded and smiled up at him. “I would not miss our wedding.”

  “Very well, I suppose it can’t be helped. I will miss you, Jack.”

  He grinned at her. “I will miss you as well, Trouble. I intend to make it up to you tonight, and the night after I return,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “You had better!” She grinned back at him.

  “If your maid isn’t already in your room I’ll start making it up to you when I get you upstairs to your bedchamber.”

  “If she is there, I shall send her on an errand.” Mischief danced in Tuesday’s eyes.

  His heart fluttered a bit when Tuesday gave him a seductive smile. He watched her French blue eyes darken. He still did not understand what it was about this woman that drove him mad. He wanted nothing more than to be in her company, day and night. This had never happened to him before with any other woman. Only with Tuesday.

  As Elowen exited the library to go upstairs and check on her sister-in-law, she nearly collided with Lord Alloway.

  Newt reached out to steady her. This woman enchanted him. He could not keep his eyes off her since he had been introduced to her several days before. They had exchanged few words since their introduction. Still he found himself entranced by her.

  Until this moment, he had watched her from afar. Up close, he decided he very much approved of this beauty with large, translucent, pale blue eyes framed by thick black lashes. Her ebony curls shone like the wing of a raven. Her skin was creamy and unblemished. Her lips were more of a reddish hue than pink, but she wore no rouge upon them, of that he was certain. She was strong and confident, comfortable in her own skin. He liked that about her.

  Of course, he had already used his gift on her. Her aura was brilliant, beautiful, and rimmed in gold. It told him she was a beautiful person inside and out. He liked that even more.

  The thing that nagged at him was that she did not acknowledge him, nor even seem to notice he existed. That irked him. When he was interested in a woman, it had always been easy to obtain her attention.

  “Forgive me, Lord Alloway. I should have been paying closer attention. I was a bit distracted.”

  “No harm has been done, Lady Elowen. Where are you headed?”

  “My brother’s wife is feeling under the weather. I promised him I would check on her.”

  “Allow me to escort you.” Newt placed his hand beneath her elbow.

  The tingles Elowen felt at his touch alarmed her. “I am fine. I am perfectly capable of making it on my own. I know my way around Menadue.” Elowen guessed her crisp words would send him on his way. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

  She looked into his green eyes. There was amusement and something else she could not discern in their brilliant emerald depths.

  “I have no doubt you are capable of doing so, Lady Elowen. Yet, I am determined to escort you. Come along, I believe you said you were in a hurry,” he suggested as he led her toward the stairs.

  Elowen’s gaze narrowed upon him. “Well, I do need to hurry. I assure you, Lord Alloway, it is not necessary to escort me.”

  “Being necessary has nothing, whatsoever, to do with it, Lady Elowen. It is more my desire to do so. I wish to escort you and share your company. Might I add that you look lovely this afternoon?”

  His green eyes sparkled with amusement. It angered her.

  “Since this is all about you and has nothing to do with me, do whatever you please, my Lord,” Elowen countered.

  “Thank you. I assure you that I am.” Newt grinned. Once they left the stairs, he escorted her down the corridor to Lord and Lady St. Erth’s apartments. Before she could knock upon the door, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

  “It was a pleasure, Lady Elowen.”

  Once again, Elowen marveled at the tingles that raced up her arm as Lord Alloway kissed her hand. “Yes,” was the only word that came to mind. She gave him a curt nod and knocked upon Catherine’s door.

  Still grinning, Newt turned and left her waiting at the door.

  Elowen heard him whistling a jaunty tune as he made his way back down the stairs.

  Creed St. Germans, Lord Roscarrow, led the party down the drive of Menadue at dawn. The Earl of Penkevil, August Trevelyan; his cousin, Marcus Trevelyan; Cleve Griffith, Lord Templeton; Jack Drayton, the Earl of Elveston; Newt Lambrick, Lord Alloway and Micah Wychcombe, Lord Wincanton accompanied him. Ten additional and able-bodied men accompanied them.

  The remaining Avalon Society members and their ladies made their way to the dining room. During breakfast at Menadue, the conversation was lively. The gentleman and ladies working on the scrolls and Secretum Domini adjourned to the library. The rest of the very large household fell into their normal routine.

  Her brother, Lanyon, who had arrived from London, visited Senny that morning. Her Grandfather accompanied him. Gabriel came to see her after luncheon. He stayed with her about twenty minutes then returned to the library. He updated her on what they found in the scrolls, thus far.

  Senny was a bundle of nerves. She could not understand why. Despite Gabriel’s decree that she remain in bed and rest, she paced the carpet in her room. She paused occasionally to look out the window. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Still, she had the feeling that something wasn’t right. The restless, unsettled feeling stayed with her. She read for a while and then decided to sleep. Perhaps she was merely bored. Sleep would help her heal. The sooner she healed, the sooner she could join the others downstairs.

  St. Anthony’s Church, St. Anthony-in-Roseland, Cornwall

  Micah adjusted his glasses as he stretched upward to
look at the Pictographs carved into the stone of the Norman era arch. “Incredible. Yet, I do not conclusively recognize the style. Do you, Jack?”

  “It’s not quite like the Phoenician I personally am familiar with, but it is very similar. I’d have to compare it to what I have in my notes at home. I’m thinking it’s possibly an invented code, perhaps similar to some of the codes used by the Templars.” Jack reached up to touch one of the symbols.

  “That’s what I was thinking as well,” Creed said.

  “I believe the church records state the Norman arch is from the tenth century. 933 I believe is the correct date. The lower Paschal lamb, or Agnus Dei, is even older. The Paschal lamb looks as though it was carved after the arch was built, but the arch is definitely Saxon. The church itself is in the process of being restored.” August motioned to the scaffolding along the side of the building.

  He continued, “It was near ruin. After the church is finished, I’m adding on a new wing to the house and then restoring it one old wing at a time,” August informed them. He added. “The site of Priory Place began as a Roman signaling station. The bell here in St. Anthony’s tower is ancient. It is wroth bronze.”

  “Wroth bronze!” Micah exclaimed. “Yet another possible tie to the Phoenicians. The Phoenicians were the last people known to make wroth metal. There is nothing as hard as wroth metal. Nothing comes near to its equivalent in present times.”

  “That is partly why I was forced to renovate the church first. The old tower was crumbling. The beams broke and the bell fell during a storm. It demolished one entire wall and part of another. The bell was replaced after the tower was restored. The bell did not even suffer a mark and it still rings clear and true just as it always has.” August looked upward to the bell tower.

  “Amazing,” Micah said, as he also looked upward. I must go up to the tower and have a closer look later.”