Emerald Prince (30 page)

Tears burned Camber’s eyes, tears of hopelessness and fear for his sister. Nora had always watched over him. Since the day their parents died she had taken care of him. She protected him still from the King’s wrath, risking her own life to assure he might pursue his heart’s desire in peace. Always, she looked after him however she could. He owed her no less but his efforts came too late.

Camber fell to his knees in the Irish priory where he had taken refuge and clasped his cross in his hands. “Father in Heaven, look after Nora. Please bring her back to me, safe and unharmed.”

N
IALL BROKE THE OPPRESSIVE
silence as the trio rode through the forest, exhausted but alive. “Tell us, colleen, how did you learn to shoot a crossbow? ’Tis right amazing,” he added, “a woman wielding a weapon. And with accuracy.”

 “Yes,” Alianor admitted, and yawned wide. Conversation was welcome at the late hour and served to keep her awake. She was about to drift off to sleep again. It was too comfortable, jogging along at a rocking canter on Biorra, cozily ensconced in Liam’s arms. Niall rode de Lacy’s gray — he would find good use for the man’s fine steed.

Alianor said, “After our parents’ deaths, King Richard made my brother Camber and me wards of the Crown at Walter’s request.”

“What was the Lionhearted like, colleen?” Niall asked. “I’ve heard many gallant tales about him.”

“I do not remember much of King Richard, Niall. He was in France more than England. I met him only twice, once when he came to Windsor, and another time when I was in Normandy with the court. But while he was at Windsor the King assigned Cam to serve as Walter’s page and begin training for the position of squire when he came of age.” She paused and chuckled. “Oh, I was mighty upset I couldn’t be a page, too.

“So, I watched and learned. In secret at first, until Walter caught me lurking and practicing swordplay with some skill. I believe he knew it would do no good to forbid my interest, so he started to train me alongside my brother.

“Even then, Cam’s calling was for God, rather than knighthood. Walter said my brother hadn’t a drop of warrior’s blood in his veins, and he would not force him to deny his obvious calling. When Richard the Lionheart learned of Cam’s true vocation, he sent him to St. David’s in Wales. Gerald the Welshman was Archdeacon of Brecon, and when he did not gain the bishopric he went to Paris and took Cam with him for further education abroad.”

A smile touched Alianor, her memories warming her in the chill of night. “Meanwhile, I spent as much time as I could with Walter. He continued to teach me, as he would a young man under his tutelage. What Cam had not inherited by way of skill or desire, I had. I couldn’t learn enough, nor absorb it fast enough.”

She sighed, remembering the recklessness of youth. How long ago it all seemed. “One time I went so far as to dress like a boy so I could fight in a squire’s tournament.”

“God’s toenail, colleen,” Niall was shocked. “You could have been hurt, even killed.”

Alianor laughed. “’Twas the boys who were hurt, not I. I have a wicked parry.” Her smile vanished. “That tournament is the only time I can remember Walter being angry with me. Like you, Niall, he feared I might be hurt by my foolish actions. He made me promise to never do anything like that again before he continued my training. I owe him more than he will ever know.”

Emotion thickened her voice. Yes, she missed Walter. Terribly. He filled the role of the father she had lost, a mentor she loved, and a friend she cherished. He might still be alive if not for Lackland.

To keep tears at bay, her thoughts digressed to the King and her hatred for him. Lackland was a cruel and manipulative man, not above murder to achieve his twisted ends. Walter’s death was proof of his malevolent nature.

Sometimes she wondered how she had survived as long as she had at court. Much credit went to Walter, she knew. His marriage lent her the protection she needed, and his reputation and high position assured her own. Not to mention the benefits of the training he had given her. More than once, the quick whip of a dagger had saved her, as it had with de Lacy.

 “What about your brother, Alianor?” Liam asked. “What will the King do to him when he learns of this latest turn of events?”

The question startled her. Liam had remained silent. She had wondered if he was even paying attention, but now knew he’d digested every word spoken. She shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do to protect Cam. De Lacy will certainly tell the King what happened. King John will consider my actions treasonous at best. Cam is certain to suffer for it.”

His arms tightened around her in comfort, and she leaned back against him with a little sigh. “I’m sorry, Alianor,” he murmured against her ear, “for everything.”

Alianor understood there was more behind the simple apology, more than concern for her brother’s immediate danger. Did he regret taking her against her will? Perhaps even their reckless love affair? Did he fear the resulting vengeance de Lacy and the King would seek upon them all? Most likely, he regretted all these things, but the most painful conclusion she came to, was mayhap he regretted loving her.

She closed her eyes, and felt the tears burning behind her eyelids. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-one

I
T TOOK THE BETTER
part of a day to reach Wolf Haven. This time Alianor was not blindfolded. There was no need. After what they had endured together, Liam and Niall knew she would not betray them. She gazed curiously around during their sojourn through the woods. It was a green and peaceful place, a place as precious to her as the legend it protected — the legend of the Emerald Prince.

Alianor glanced over her shoulder at Liam, noted the grim set of his jaw and longed to smooth the tension from the corners of his mouth. He seemed preoccupied, most likely thinking about what de Lacy planned as reprisal for her actions and their escape. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when, and she sensed it weighed on his shoulders.

As the horses cantered into the village clearing later that afternoon, Alianor could hardly believe what her weary eyes beheld. “Camber,” she cried in surprise. Her brother was there, having dismounted minutes before. Seeing him gesturing to the rebels ringed around him, she knew he was trying to explain what he was doing there.

Hearing her call his name, Camber whirled around. His face split into a broad smile when he saw her, but his eyes clouded with tears. Without a word, he opened his arms wide, his simple gesture showing his nature.

Liam released Alianor, and she slid off the horse and ran to her brother. Her cry of joy was smothered in his coarse wool robes. Camber hugged her close, tears of emotion overwhelming them both.

Alianor stepped back and touched his cheek, wiping away the tears she found there. “Oh, Cam, you cannot know how happy I am to see you. But what on earth are you doing here?”

“Me?” he whispered, his voice cracking from emotion. “But I heard … they told me you were …” Unable to find the words, he merely hugged her again. He cast a glance heavenward and murmured, “Thank you, Lord.”

“I’m afraid even He needed a little help this time,” Liam said as he dismounted from Biorra. Alianor noticed his weariness, showing in the lines on his face, the shadows beneath his eyes. “De Lacy had no intention of keeping to his end of the bargain. Nor letting us leave alive.”

Camber kept his arm around Alianor’s waist as he and Liam studied one another with wary regard. She was surprised by the protective gleam in her brother’s bright blue eyes. Cam looked angry, something she rarely saw, even growing up. He was always calm, reasonable, forgiving.

“Cam,” she said, placing a hand upon his sleeve. He looked at her with a troubled frown, and she gave him an encouraging smile. “I want you to meet Liam Caomhánach.”

Her brother’s manner remained serious as his gaze returned to Liam. “So you are the one who kidnapped my sister,” he said. “A villain mistakenly called a prince.”

“And you must be the brother,” Liam retorted, “the one Alianor mistakenly described as mild-natured.”

Alianor flinched at the mutual hostility between them. She knew Liam was exhausted, seething over Torin’s betrayal, and stressed from losing the ransom. Now, he must worry how he would provide for his people this winter.

Likewise, Camber had traveled long and hard to reach her. She knew he must be unhappy about her situation that forced him to leave his quiet cloister. Cam could not hide the evidence of his distress and many sleepless nights, revealed on every inch of his dear face. She hugged him again, whispering an entreaty. “Please trust me. Liam is not the enemy.”

“You defend this knave?” Camber’s voice reflected confusion and annoyance. “What is going on here, Nora?”

“Cam,” she pleaded, “please try to understand —”

“
Understand?
This Irish cur took you by force!” Camber’s voice shook, as did his hands. He balled them into fists to still them.

Alianor took one of those clenched fists into her own two hands. “It’s a long story, my dearest brother. I beg you, trust me and be content.”

“He tried to ransom you like chattel.”

“Listen to your sister, Camber — I am not your enemy,” Liam said, his manner calm, his voice hard. “Lackland and de Lacy are. You would do well to remember it.”

Camber took a step towards Liam, but Alianor stepped between the two men. “Stop it! Both of you.”

They ignored her plea. “I’ve come to take my sister home, Caomhánach.” Camber placed his arm protectively around Alianor’s shoulders. His voice sounded confident for a man of the cloth squaring off with a notorious Irish outlaw. “You’ve no objections, I’m sure.”

Certain Liam would protest; Alianor prepared for words and even fists to fly. But when Liam spoke, he said just the opposite. “Alianor is free to go wherever she wishes. I’ll not interfere if she wants to leave Wolf Haven.”

She could not deny the pain Liam’s cavalier response provoked. He shrugged, like a man who cared less what happened to her. Was everything they had shared and suffered together, all they were and could possibly be, naught but a foolish dream? His singularly uncaring manner seemed to undermine any hope she had for them. Or was her exhausted mind creating this heartache and confusion?

Sensing her distress, Camber’s hand tightened about her shoulder. “Aye, you have interfered more than enough already with Nora’s life.”

Liam returned the monk’s glare. “I’d advise you not to rush back to England with Alianor in tow. Not only will there be many questions, but the King will simply put her back on the next ship. I’m not sure where it’s safe for you two to ride out the storm of royal wrath. De Lacy is also dangerous. I might have suggested the Church as refuge, but from what I hear, de Lacy has the local bishops snug in his pocket.”

A dark shadow passed over Camber’s face. “Aye, I fear even Holy Mother Church cannot help us. But the rancor of either of these powerful men would not be incurred if not for your reprehensible actions, Caomhánach.”

Liam’s eyebrow arched. “I’m not totally to blame for putting Alianor in danger. From what I understand, she was trying to save
your
holy arse.”

A low growl of anger exploded from Camber. Before Alianor could stop him, he lunged at Liam, a flurry of white robes as he swung a fist. “Y-you Irish blackguard! You’ve no right to point the blame at others after what you’ve done.”

Liam blocked the wild blow with ease, and Alianor gasped when his hands clenched in defensive instinct. His dark green eyes sparkled dangerously, yet he did not strike Camber. Perhaps because her brother’s love for her was sketched on his anguished face, or maybe because he understood Cam had lashed out in pure frustration at his own part in this fiasco.

Alianor intervened and took control. “Cam,” she said, grabbing her brother’s arm so he could not swing at Liam again. He might not be so lucky a second time; even Liam had a limit to his tolerance. “It’s true. I agreed to marry de Lacy to keep you safe.”

Camber blinked, dazed. He had never struck another man before, nor even tried to. Not even in self-defense. Nora brought out his protective side, but her gentle rebuke shamed him. It had always been thus. Nora was the one in charge, the elder sister who mothered him. He stepped back from Liam, glancing sheepishly at her.

Alianor nodded, pleased with his decision to stand down. “Don’t you see, Cam, my original fate was postponed due to Caomhánach,” she said. “Indeed, it was a fortunate turn of events, for otherwise I would be de Lacy’s wife. A fate I fear I would not survive.”

Camber nodded. “I heard tale of his first wife’s death. Rumors say ’twas no accident.”

“I believe it’s true; de Lacy insinuated as much to me. He made it clear I should not make the same mistakes Lady Juliana had.”

Liam glanced at her, startled. A snarl curled his lip. “What loving brother lets his sister be bartered off to a fiend?”

Alianor immediately came to Cam’s defense. “He did not know, Liam. I told him nothing of the King’s threats. It would only bring danger upon Cam and his brethren. Why should innocents suffer for the King’s evil games?”