It was much later that she realized she’d underestimated the strange mark and what it would do, just as she had underestimated Tolan.
* * *
Geoffrey of Amesbury was a worried man.
He pushed his helm off his head and let it drop, knowing the man who followed along behind his every step would catch it. Sliding the mail hood back, he let the chill air cool his head and neck. Hours of riding and searching this day had found him nothing.
Not a sign or symbol on any of the standing stones here. Or those that had fallen or been knocked down. Geoffrey had himself searched even when his men reported there were none. Now, exhausted and frustrated, he accepted a skin of wine and drank deeply from it.
“My lord?”
“What is it?” Geoffrey peered out over the land before him, not bothering to face the soldier.
“There are more of those strange mounds to the west,” the soldier offered. “We have not searched those yet.”
Without hesitation, Geoffrey knocked the man to the ground with the back of his hand. Since he had been with these men, searching these lands for the last fortnight, he knew what had or had not been examined. And he knew that the markings he sought must be on stones and not in the ground. That this soldier thought to advise him was unacceptable. Geoffrey strode off toward the tallest of the stones before him here.
Walking into the center of the several concentric rings, he knew this place held power. He could feel it there, beneath his feet, as it moved into his body and sent small sparks of some energy into his skin. He squinted into the sun as it set in the west and waited for more.
Nothing.
He knew then that this was not the place that Hugh de Gifford sought. Geoffrey slid his hand inside his tunic and withdrew the parchment he’d received from his distant cousin just days ago. Though something prevented Hugh from reaching England, this missive had arrived and given him orders and knowledge, sketches even, of what to look for on his lands.
For some reason not disclosed, de Gifford believed that the circle of power lay here, in this area, on Geoffrey’s lands. Whether or not his belief was based on the many strange mounds and stones and other artifacts, Geoffrey knew not. He only knew he must find it, for there were warriors on their way to destroy it.
He turned to find his men standing just outside the stones, in watchful readiness for his next command. Calling out an order to set up camp, he faced the sun again and wondered what would happen when Hugh arrived and he’d not found the circle yet. Tremors shot through him at the thought of failing this man. Well, de Gifford was more than a mere man—there was a power in him that defied explanation. Geoffrey had seen that power used and would never want to be its target.
He could return to his keep and the comforts it offered, but his time to find the stones was dwindling and he could not afford to let his desire for comfort interfere with his duty. Hugh said there were signs and so he knew there were. All Geoffrey had to do was find them.
And find them now.
CHAPTER 3
The two guards standing over the gates to Amesbury Castle nodded and waved Tolan inside. He guided his horse along the well-worn path, up the slight hill to the stark stone building in the center of the large yard. The design and coloring of this keep made it blend into the landscape around it, almost as though it had been done apurpose to hide it from sight.
As he glanced back out through the gates, the other prominent building in the area—the Amesbury Abbey—glistened in the sun. At the edges of the town, it caught the best light and seemed to call visitors to it as the flickering sun captured their attention. Visitors and pilgrims came aplenty to it, seeking repentance or favor. Even the king’s daughter was there, answering the call of God or her father’s orders. Rumors swirled that the king’s mother would join her there soon. A blessed place, that.
A chill raced through him then, turning his attention back to the dark and dreary castle in which Lord Geoffrey lived. He’d noticed the feeling before, indeed, on many visits here. Not one of evil so much as a lacking of good. As though the black and gray stones resisted the light even as the man ruling over this keep and these lands resisted the good around him.
Though Geoffrey had not been overtly a bad lord to serve, Tolan always waited for him to show his true nature. Thinking on that as he left his mount with a waiting stable boy and entered the keep, he wondered at his observation. Mayhap he was wrong? Geoffrey tended to his lands and his people as he should, but there was something else that Tolan could feel and yet not describe. A sense of something dark deep within him.
“Here he is, my lord.” Bordan’s impatient and panicking voice echoed across the large but empty chamber of the great hall. Tolan quickened his pace to reach the front of the room.
“My lord,” he said, bowing his head. “I came at your call.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried not to let his surprise show as he looked on Lord Geoffrey.
A haunted expression sat in the nobleman’s gaze, and his coloring was pale and nearly gray. And some nervous movements accompanied the change in appearance, for he kept running his hand over his face and shaking his head. A touch of the palsy? Or some other affliction? It was new, for Tolan had not seen it before Geoffrey departed on this latest excursion of his.
“The field?” Lord Geoffrey demanded without pretense. “Will it take seed now?”
Tolan nodded. “I have seen to it,” he said. “It will be ready for the second planting in a few weeks.”
Tolan had not checked it this morn, but he had no doubt it would be. His faith in the Old Ones or their methods had not failed him yet. A nod was Lord Geoffrey’s only answer as the nobleman turned away to address Bordan on some other matter. This behavior was strange. The lord went on about his business, never taking notice of Tolan, until Tolan finally spoke up on his own.
“My lord? If there is nothing else, I will go back to my duties?” Tolan began to nod and step back, but was stopped by a sharp command.
“Stay!” Lord Geoffrey called out, without turning to face him. “We leave at noon.”
“Leave, my lord?” Tolan said. “Do you leave so soon after returning, then?” He must have misheard the words.
“Gather what you need, Tolan. We will be on the road for several days. Tell Langston to see to things until we return.” Langston, of Norman descent, was assigned to help Tolan with his work on Lord Geoffrey’s lands, but the man was nothing more than a worthless spy. Keeping him busy with meaningless tasks kept the man out of things he should not be involved in, but he was no one to be put in charge of . . . anything growing.
“My lord . . .”
“I have need of your expertise with the lands around Amesbury, Tolan. You and your family have lived here for generations and I—”
“My lord, I can accompany you. My family has lived here as long as Tolan’s,” Bordan began. The big man began to sweat as he spoke and pressed his case to their lord, never recognizing the growing anger and frustration on Geoffrey’s face.
But Tolan did and so accepted what must be the inevitable result of this order. “I understand, my lord,” he said, bowing lower now.
An angry nobleman was not someone he wanted to face down or set on the villagers or others under his hand, so Tolan had acquiesced. Even though the feeling of dread filled him now with Geoffrey’s reference to the generations before him there.
“We will meet you in the village, Tolan. And bring along whatever tools or accoutrements you need.”
“My lord, what will we be doing?”
Bordan gasped at Tolan’s question and looked as though he would strike out at him, but Tolan needed to understand what this journey was about and how to hide his true gift from others.
“Bring along whatever you need to test the soil. To find obstructions beneath the surface. I am searching for hidden st . . .”
Lord Geoffrey sto
pped and glanced around them, over both of his shoulders and back to the doorway as though someone might be listening. That was not what made Tolan nervous. What made his skin crawl and his stomach heave was the word that the nobleman hesitated on.
St . . .
Stones.
Hidden stones.
Tolan fought to keep his reaction off his face. He knew the stories and the legends about these lands, passed down from a time when the pagans held sway and the Christians had not yet arrived. The stories about those who built and carved the huge circles of stones that lay across the Salisbury Plain for miles in all directions. None of those were hidden, though some lay partially out of sight due to the overgrowth of weeds and other plants.
He also knew about the other stones, the ones rarely known or spoken about. He knew their origin and their purpose and he knew, most importantly, of his duty to them. He clenched his jaw, trying to regain his control before he said something he should not. Pulling in a deep breath and easing it out, he nodded at Lord Geoffrey. “Very well, my lord. I will gather my tools and be ready.”
His agreement seemed to break Lord Geoffrey’s consternation and the man nodded and waved him off now. Tolan turned to go, knowing he must make other arrangements before he could leave and that there was little time. It took all his control not to break his pace and run from the keep back to his house. He urged his horse to move faster than he would usually and Tolan refused to stop even when several of those known to him called out as he rode by.
His first stop, though, was at the cottage of Githa and Durwan and arrange for them to see to Kirwyn while he was gone. Though a young man, Kirwyn could care for himself in most situations, but Tolan would be more at ease if he knew someone was looking after his son. Once Githa had been told, he went to see Thea. As was her custom, she was not at home but out visiting with those who needed her attention.
He laughed then as thoughts of her and the night they’d shared made his body begin to react in a way that he had neither the time nor the possibility of acting on now. But he would seek her out on his return and they would speak. There were many matters they needed to discuss and he would not allow her to push his questions and concerns away. Tolan gathered up a tunic and a few other supplies and searched for Kirwyn in the fields.
When he reached the fields, Tolan sought out some tools from the storage building there. With his only intention to pacify Lord Geoffrey in this, he gathered a hoe and a measuring stick and a spade. He had no idea of what the lord would ask him to do, but these simple tools would handle many possible situations. After securing them to his horse, he rode to the field that was being worked this day to find Kirwyn.
His son stood in the midst of the other young men working there, but he seemed so much older than them. Kirwyn would have Tolan’s height and breadth, but he carried his mother’s fairer coloring. Tolan prayed that the boy had inherited the same strong connection to the earth and its power as he himself had. Soon, on the next anniversary of his birth, Kirwyn would be of age to assume his place amongst the generations of Tolan’s family to tend the earth and guard its secrets. Waving him over, he prepared for the battle between father and headstrong son that had been the way of things between them for some time.
“I must accompany Lord Geoffrey on a journey, Kirwyn. We leave shortly,” he said. The mulish expression appeared in less than a moment, for his son knew what would follow next. “Githa and Durwan will see to you while I am gone.”
“Father, I can—” Kirwyn started.
“This is not about your ability to care for yourself, son,” Tolan interrupted, reaching out and placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “This is so that I know you will be well. My only requirement is that you eat supper with them and sleep in their cottage. I still expect you to oversee ours and to tend to your duties here.”
“And Blythe?”
“Ah, please tell her we will need her not to cook for us. I do not know when I will return but will try to send word, Kirwyn.” Tolan purposely issued no decrees about not seeing the girl, knowing they would be ignored. He noticed the hopeful expression in the boy’s eyes. “But have a care, as I said.”
Kirwyn nodded and smiled. “What is this about, Father?” he asked in a low voice. Others were close enough to overhear anything spoken too loudly.
“I know not. Lord Geoffrey ordered me to accompany him and so I do. Langston is in charge of the fields while I am gone.”
Kirwyn grimaced.
“Aye, I know. So, give him counsel as you can.”
“Me? He will not listen to me,” his son scoffed.
“He will if it means he will do less work.”
Kirwyn nodded and smiled knowingly. Langston’s laziness was widely known among those working the fields, even if the lord knew it not. The arrival of men on horseback stopped any other exchanges. Tolan patted his son’s shoulder and nodded to him.
“Tolan, is this your son?” Lord Geoffrey called to him. Urging his horse closer, the lord scrutinized his son’s face. “How many years does he have?”
“Aye, my lord. This is Kirwyn. He has ten and five years.” Tolan put his arm around Kirwyn’s shoulders and brought him closer.
“He does not have your look about him.”
The words startled Tolan. Glancing at his son’s face and then at Lord Geoffrey, he shrugged it off. Or tried to, for a deep sense of danger swirled in his gut, making it difficult to ignore what he wanted to believe was a simple comment.
“His coloring favors his mother, my lord,” Tolan explained.
“His mother?”
“My late wife, my lord. Corliss. She died of a fever four years ago.” A strange expression passed over the nobleman’s face and disappeared in an instant before he spoke again.
“And you have not married again? You need more sons, Tolan, to work the land with you. We will speak of this on our return.” Lord Geoffrey motioned with his hand at one of the men, who nodded. The man was charged with keeping track of the lord’s business and concerns and was rarely anywhere but at Geoffrey’s side.
“We ride,” Lord Geoffrey called out without further conversation.
Tolan hugged Kirwyn and mounted up, following the group along the road, out of the village, and away from the fields. They traveled farther into the lands and properties owned by Lord Geoffrey and away from those controlled by the abbey and a few minor noblemen. Though he never said so, Geoffrey had a clear destination in mind and an urgency about the journey and task.
They traveled for miles, going south, around the abbey and then toward Salisbury and its great cathedral. They passed by Old Sarum and the huge hill fort still in use by the king’s bishop. An awareness shot through Tolan as they approached the place where the earth had been pushed up into a bank surrounding the protected land within the circle. Built in olden times and covered with the remnants of the original cathedral, this land held power.
Although a score of men rode in this group, it was a hushed and silent journey through those first hours and first days. For Tolan, who rarely left Lord Geoffrey’s land, it was interesting. The soil of the Salisbury Plain felt very different from that of the fields and hills of his own lands, too. His hummed with some living force that he had not found anywhere else.
Their journey moved along at a painfully slow pace as they stopped at various hills and mounds and stones along their path. At first, Lord Geoffrey disclosed nothing about his search and since they were journeying farther and farther away from any familiar places, Tolan offered no comments and practiced his patience. His thoughts were filled with all the tasks he should be completing back home.
When the orders were given to ride north, his unease grew.
On the sixth day of their journey, as they approached the more familiar large circle of stones nearer to the west of Amesbury, Geoffrey called for them to stop and make camp. A sense of nervous anticipation
filled Tolan and he found himself holding his breath every time the nobleman uttered a word. And when the sun dropped behind the mountains to the west and Lord Geoffrey approached him alone, Tolan waited to learn the reason behind the journey.
“My lord,” Tolan said, standing as the man grew nearer to his own place by the fire. “How can I be of service?”
“Sit.” Geoffrey motioned back to the rock on which he’d been sitting. “Leave us,” he said to the others who yet sat too close by. After those few wandered off to other places, Lord Geoffrey sat down. “What do you know of these stones, Tolan? Did your family pass down stories about them?”
“I know little, my lord. No one knows their origin or why they sit in such strange circles.” Tolan shrugged, relieved that his questions involved this group of stones and not another. “Some say they were brought here by the ancient magician Merlin,” he said, chuckling. “But I know not the truth of it.”
Lord Geoffrey stared at him then, as though trying to discern whether or not to say more. When the man let out a rough breath, Tolan knew he had decided to do that.
“I must find a ring of stones in this area,” he began, leaning in closer. “None of the others must know more than that.” His gaze narrowed and he stopped speaking until Tolan nodded his assent. “The stones I seek sit in a circle of eight stones and are carved with various symbols.”
Tolan fought off his inclination to scream out in denial and concentrated on keeping his own knowledge inside. “These, my lord?” he asked, pointing at the stones nearby as they stood in silence under the waxing moon. “Mayhap a smaller circle existed within the larger ones?” He chose his words very carefully, not wanting to appear too knowledgeable or too lacking.
“We searched these the last time I was here,” Geoffrey explained. “I can see no markings or carvings.” Shaking his head, he glanced over at the stones once more. “There are some shapes and scratches, but not like those for which I search.”
Tolan debated whether or not to ask the question burning in his own mouth. He should let this alone and not stir up more interest by discussing it further. Lord Geoffrey nodded at him.
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