The Guardian (Chronicles of Dover's Amalgam Book 1) (29 page)

Not again.

“Stand and deliver,” one of the brigands cried out when he neared. He slowed his horse and came close.

Jareth drew the sword that his brother loaned him for safe travels.

“Shut up,” a female voice demanded. “You’ll be bloody lucky if he doesn’t kill you where you stand.” She lowered her voice. “Stand and deliver—are you barking mad?”

Jareth paused at the sound of a woman’s voice amid the cloaked band, but he could not tell which she was, so he kept his sword at attention. They had a strange inflection to their voices, but it was familiar. He had heard it on a tape Harrow had him listen to on heart valve replacement. The surgeon speaking was British.

“I’ve always wanted to say that,” the boy said. He turned to the rider next him. “And you shut up or I’ll tell Mum you kissed Christian.” Jareth presumed that was the girl he spoke to.

“Quiet!” the tallest rider ordered. He spurred his horse forward, and approached Jareth slowly. “Before you get us all killed by our own father.”

Jareth gripped his sword. They would not dare.

The rider uncovered his head as he approached.

They
did
dare.

Staring back at Jareth was his mirror image, but finer—more handsome. He had his mother’s cute nose, thank God. This day was becoming most bizarre. The four riders who stayed behind followed his suit and removed their hoods. One was a girl with hair the shade of Elizabet’s. Jareth’s sword fell from his hand as he opened his fist in utter surrender. The breath was kicked from his lungs and gushed from his mouth in a noisy exhalation.

“You’re frightened,” the boy said. He tilted his head and halted his horse a foot from Jareth, then stared as Jareth felt the color drain from his face.

“No,” Jareth said, but his heart was in his throat. He glanced to the others who had also begun to come closer when he threw his sword. They mistook his action for fear, but he cast aside his weapon as he would never bear arms against his own flesh and blood. “I am confused. Overwhelmed.”

The girl had hair like her mother, but she was the only one. Three of the boys, including the eldest, had dark brown hair. One boy had black hair, like Jareth himself. He was the one who had spontaneously shouted something peculiar.

The one with the black hair smiled. He was clearly the most handsome of the bunch. “You look so young, Dad.”

“He’s in shock,” the eldest said. He motioned to the girl. “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.”

“Please,” Jareth managed to say.

“I am Abigail,” the girl said. When she smiled, she had a dimple in her right cheek. She looked like Elizabet, but she appeared to be tall even though she was seated on a horse. Her feet were secure in the stirrups, even though it was a large stallion. “Solomon and I are twins. We are the oldest.” She motioned to the rider nearest him, the one who had approached first.

Solomon inclined his head.

“Peter is the stupid one,” Abigail said with a tone of annoyance.

“Hey,” the black-haired Peter protested. “Don’t listen to her,” he advised, looking at Jareth. “She’s a spoiled brat, that one. Can’t have any fun when she’s around.”

“Peter,” Solomon warned, and shook his head.

“I’m Gideon,” one of the boys in the back said. He seemed young, but not as young as the remaining boy, who gave the impression of shyness. “This is Benjamin. He only came because Mrs. Wheatley is cooking gruel.”

“I don’t like gruel,” Benjamin, the shy one, said, but then he leaned forward in the saddle. He smiled revealing a set of dimples instead of only one like his sister. “I say, Dad, you are a handsome devil. Mum doesn’t exaggerate.”

“Of course she doesn’t exaggerate,” Peter said with a sniff. “They say he looks just like me.”

“Boys,” Jareth said, overwhelmed with them all. Abigail frowned, to which Jareth offered a faint smile. He felt a bit queasy, and was afraid the tilt of his lips came off as more of a grimace. He was only married yesterday and not yet in tune with the dealings of females. “And lady. Please, there must be a reason that you are about in a time not your own, obviously.

“I just left your uncle back in Kent. By proclamation of the king, I have been given amnesty.” He half expected his children to cheer at the news, but his words did not have any excitable effect on them. It was new to him though, and reason to rejoice. “My day has exceeded the exhaustible mark and is bordering into ‘I may go mad’ territory. Do you care to enlighten me as to why either I or your mother would send you?”

“It’s Mum,” Solomon announced, and tilted his head. It seemed a habit of his. “If you continue on your way to the castle, she will drown and we will never exist.”

“What?” Jareth exclaimed. He yanked on the reigns so tightly his horse balked. The stallion pranced as Jareth felt the last of his sanity slip away.

“Things are complicated,” Solomon said. He adjusted his mount as his horse danced along with the sudden movement of Jareth’s steed. “There was a breach in time, but we singled it out to today. Mum saved your life by going to Grandfather and pleading your worth, but there was yet another breach.”

So the children were accustomed to having a king as a grandfather. There was some relief in that. It meant the proclamation had held and the Church had either not tried or not been allowed to tamper with it. Something was finally going right.

“Of the bands you left with Mum, two were stolen,” Abigail reported, “By the same person who gave them to you.”

“Gyula,” Jareth said, and gripped the reigns. “Where is your mother now?”

“Gyula’s taken her to the cave where he resides, but he left her at the lower end that becomes engulfed when the tide comes in,” Solomon answered. “We know where it is, but we must hurry. Mum made us promise that we would not go into the cave. By the time we get there, it will be partially submerged. She can’t swim.”

Jareth yanked on the reigns he held. This was Elizabet, the walking oxymoron they were dealing with. She was the duchess to an area known for its shore—of course she could not swim. That would be expected, and Elizabet was never what he expected.

“She is forever a mother,” Abigail said. She rolled her eyes, but somehow on her it was a charming gesture. “We promised not to risk
our
lives. We are to fetch you and bring you to the location.”
“She trusts only you to save her,” Gideon said.

Jareth looked over his children, imprinting each of their precious faces onto his memory. They were so fierce and serious. He loved them already, if only because they loved their mother.

“Then let us not keep her waiting,” Jareth said. She would be alone and scared. The thought caused his heart to stutter.

“Dad,” Solomon said, but spurred his horse to follow at a canter. “There’s something else you must know.”

“Something you need to know so you can make a wise decision and not a hasty one,” Abigail added.

Jareth was ahead of them already; he wanted a bruising pace. The thought of Elizabet in a dark cave, afraid, was enough to make him panic. What if they were too late? Would the children vanish and cease to exist? He could not think of such things.

He glanced back and caught a glimpse of the worried gaze the twins shared. “Out with it.”

Solomon met his eye. “Catherine of Torquay sold Mum to Gyula. She tricked her and lured her out of the castle. The reason only two of the bands were stolen is because that was all she was wearing. She buried the rest.”

“Mum didn’t know who she was. She thought she was someone from the village.”

“Catherine of Torquay will die,” Jareth growled.

Peter let out a whoop and spurred his horse, matching the pace Jareth set. Jareth was amazed at how well his children rode for being stuck between ancient and modern times. Horseback was no longer the preferred mode of transportation. They rode much like him; as though they were born equestrians. It would seem they were able to live within both fluidly.

“Peter,” Solomon warned.

“Who are we to stop a man in love?” Peter yelled back at his brother. Their horses were all in full gallop now. Peter sidled next to Jareth and gave another loud war-like call into the night air. His cloak billowed out like a victory flag.

Chapter 15

THE CLIFFS WERE
imposing in the early moonlight as Jareth’s children crowded around him at the precipice. “It’s a small tank, but all you’ll need.” Solomon showed Jareth how to use the oxygen tank they had brought. “Remember to breathe only through your mouth. It’s a bit tricky. There’s a light attached to the mouthpiece. It will illuminate the way as you swim and help keep your hands free.”

Jareth nodded while he yanked off his boots. “I shall go under, three feet to the right, and then straight up?”

“Yes,” Peter said. He passed a coiled pair of ropes from one hand to the other as if weighing them and peered over the ledge. “We will guide the descent. Once you come to the craggy opening, tie the rope around your waist and we will give it slack.”

“But remember,” Abigail instructed as she came up behind her twin, “You must tie the rope around Mum once you get to her. She doesn’t know how to swim yet.”

“She cannot read nor swim,” Jareth muttered. What else was she keeping from him? It was not anger, per se, that had him babbling, but fear that she would not make it. Fear that the brutality of life would crush her and he would be forced to watch it happen. How could he possibly protect her when she was laden with weaknesses?

Abigail placed her hand gently on his arm. The gesture halted his brisk motions of taking off his heavy gambeson. He wanted to be as light as possible, but Abigail’s touch gave him a heavy, pitted sensation in his gut. He almost brutishly pushed her off, so unaccustomed was he to gentle persuasion.

“She reads well,” Abigail said. “And swims. You teach her both and she teaches us in turn. She’s a wonderful mother.”

Jareth cast his gaze to where the soft white of his daughter’s small hand rested against his darker forearm. He could get used to this—gentleness given by someone who held love in their eyes while they did the persuading. He accepted it because of the one extending it. He would love his daughter fiercely.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I am overcome by many emotions.” She met his gaze and he saw that she had his eyes. Elizabet’s hair and his light eyes was a lovely combination. “I am not a man given to them.” He stopped there, unable to go on. It was inappropriate to tell one’s daughter that he had only recently found himself capable of love. That he loved her mother so much he would switch places with her and go to death willingly. It was gut-wrenching to discover how something as simple as love could reduce one to such moments of weakness. He could not seem to think other than in riddles.

It embarrassed him.

Abigail smiled. “I love you, Daddy.” She rose on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Be safe. You must live long enough to experience a rainbow of feelings with me. And believe me, you shall. I’m extremely vexing.”

A grin tickled at half of his mouth. He peered at his daughter and did not know what to say. Something unfamiliar burned in his chest, but Solomon intervened before he could make a fool of himself.

“Give one of the ropes to Abigail,” Solomon told Peter.

Abigail stepped back and reached into the rear of her cloak to produce a bow and arrow.

“There is a branch about halfway down,” Peter said, and peeked over the ledge again. “It’s looks to be sturdy.”

Benjamin flew at Jareth, throwing his thin arms around his middle. “I love you, Papa.”

Jareth’s arms remained weighted at his sides; he was stunned. He looked up at the three expectant pair of eyes of his other sons and lightly patted Benjamin on the back. None of them moved to help him, as if this was a normal family occurrence.

Abigail tied the rope to the arrow, using a precise knot. “I’ve tethered horses and now my expertise is needed to land this arrow at a far-off mark . . .” She shook her head. “ . . . While you boys have a Hallmark moment. I can’t wait to tell Mum.”

“Hush, Abigail,” Solomon chided. He put his hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “Come, runt. You can’t keep Dad. He has to save Mum.”

Abigail took aim, her strong arms holding the bow taunt. She blew a breath out slowly and let the arrow fly.

“Dad,” Gideon said, his voice sounding scratchy. Jareth looked at him over Benjamin, who was still attached to him like an octopus. Gideon swallowed down an unmanly sob. “God be with you.”

“Aye, Papa,” Peter said, his handsome face serious. He blinked twice, rapidly, and looked away when Jareth met his gaze.

“Alright, alright,” Solomon said. He tugged Benjamin away; the boy gave Jareth one final squeeze before he went willingly. “When we get home, we can all pile up on him and tell him how much we love him.”

Jareth looked at his eldest son and realized that he was seeing his heir—the second Duke of Dover. The boy had taken control of every situation and guided his siblings. It was not lost on him that the future Jareth trusted Solomon with the lives of his family.

“How grateful we are to have him as our father and how very precious his life is to each of us,” Solomon said. He became choked up on the last words, but while his eyes filled with tears, none dared fall. He tipped his chin toward Abigail, who was holding out the rope.

Benjamin buried his face in Solomon’s chest as if to hide from what was happening.

“Come,” Abigail said.

Jareth considered his sons before turning to his daughter.

She smiled. “Remember to breathe through your mouth.” She pointed to the tank near his feet.

He reached down and picked it up. It was light, as Solomon said. He glanced at the odd apparatus and frowned. “I shall remember,” Jareth said, and took the rope from her. He looked over his shoulder. “I shall remember all you have told me.”

Solomon and Peter raised their hands to solemnly wave. Gideon turned away, his shoulders slack, his head down.

“We’ll stay until we’re sure you have Mum,” Solomon said. “Give the rope a firm tug twice when you have cleared the crevice. Peter shall watch and once he makes a visual, we shall depart.”

Jareth nodded and turned back. Abigail was face to face with him. She kissed him again and threw her arms around his neck. “Bring her back to us.”