Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (20 page)

Camdork gave a strangled cry, and Ulrich clenched his jaw.
As he watched, the sorcerer's face changed, become smooth, until the skin
became whole and healthy once more.

"You see that I have powers beyond your
understanding?" remarked the sorcerer with a small smile.

"Aye."

"Do not give me a reason to come find you."

"No, my lord sorcerer."

He stepped back from Ulrich, and his face slowly changed
back to the rotted flesh. He turned to Camdork. "You took one of my
spells," he accused.

Camdork frowned, but Ulrich saw the tell-tale flinch of his
eyes.

"You turned a child's carving into a weapon for your
own amusement. What did you hope to gain by unleashing a fighter dragon upon
Lady Iliana?"

Ulrich clenched his jaw.
The dragon gone missing from his
pouch.

"It was to get rid of her brat," Camdork said.
"That brat will be a distraction when I wed the lady."

Mandrak put his hand up and Ulrich saw Camdork's mouth
moving, but without sound.

"If a mother loses a child, what reason is there for
her to live? What reason is there for her to search for the treasure? This is
your last interference in my business. Next time I will unleash six fighter dragons
upon you. It will be great sport to watch them rip you apart."

Mandrak turned to Ulrich. "The Lady Iliana is searching
for a most spectacular green gem," he remarked. "Let her find it, but
once found, I must have it. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Do you know anything of the circle of trees in the
keep's courtyard?"

"No, my lord." He hesitated. "I know the lady
goes there often."

The sorcerer paced away from him. "I have tried to gain
entry so that I might learn to harness the power of the circle, but it appears
to be protected by a spell even I cannot break. I will need to gain entry when
Iliana is within." He nodded his head, a macabre smile lighting one side
of his face. "I shall bring forth more power than this world has ever
seen. The world, the oceans, the very earth will tremble beneath my feet. A
mere girl is no match for my wits and magic!"

Ulrich's stomach churned again in queasy protest.

"No, my lord sorcerer."

"When I have the power of the gem, all this --" he
waved at his face, "will go away."

With a grin of malice and greed, he rubbed his hands.
"Even now triumph swells in my breast. I would learn all the secrets. No
mortal man will sway me from this purpose." He looked at Ulrich. "You
must alert me when next the lady Iliana visits the circle of trees."

"Yes. How will I know where to find you?"

The sorcerer smiled again and Ulrich dropped his gaze to the
ground. "I will find you," the sorcerer said. "Do not worry. I
will know exactly where you are."

"Very good, my lord."

"Now go. Be ready to report to me on the morrow."

With barely a glance at Camdork who still could not speak,
Ulrich mounted his horse and rode back toward the keep. Burned in his memory
were Mandrak's intense, gleaming eyes. He had seen those eyes before, that
intensity on the battlefield, in the eyes of men gone mad from the horrors of
war. He was convinced the sorcerer was indeed mad.

Glumly, Ulrich knew it did not bode well for anyone,
especially himself if the sorcerer took a liking to him.

Iliana left the sacred circle of trees, drawing deeply of
the night air. The night sky was inky tonight, the moon disappearing behind the
clouds, then reappearing only briefly. She held the lantern high, away from her
face, careful not to get close to the foul odor of the burning oil. Tonight was
one of the nights she felt as if events were moving forward. She had seen a
cavern in her travels, and a gleaming gem. Why, she wondered as she had
wondered before, did she see only bits and pieces of what she needed to know?
Why was she not given the entire story so that she could find the gem without
further delay? She felt as if someone played with her, allowing her only so
much, nothing more.

Most of the men had settled in for the night, and she did
not see even a dice game by lantern or candlelight. In fact, the quiet around
her as she crossed the first courtyard felt uneasy, causing the hair along her
neck to rise. She stopped and turned, moving her lantern to the right and left,
but she saw no other person. A small animal moved in the corner of the yard,
toward the stables, perhaps a rat. Iliana pulled her light cloak about her,
then turned to hurry on her way. She came up against something solid and with a
small screech looked up.

"Ulrich! You startled me," she said.

"I am sorry, my lady. I saw a light and came to see who
was about. It is my guard tonight."

"Then I am sorry I startled you, Ulrich. I did not know
anyone else was about."

"It is late for you to be out, my lady. We keep a watch
but there are dangerous animals about. At times they get within the
gates."

"Then perhaps we should close the gates," she
said, frowning. "They should be closed to keep out intruders. Please do
close them."

He nodded. "I will instruct my men."

She looked at him. "Don't you mean Camdork's men?"

"Of course," he said. "My lord Camdork's
men."

"Then see to it. I will leave you to your duty."

He bowed his head. "Good evening to you, my lady."

She began to walk away, but suddenly turned back.
"Ulrich, have you had your repast? I would see that food is brought out to
you, to relieve your hours of watch."

He looked surprised. "Nay, my lady, do not stir
yourself. I have already partaken of food."

"One more thing, Ulrich. Why is it you are the only one
I see on guard duty?"

He cocked a bushy dark brow at her, as if surprised she had
taken note. "I am in command of the men at arms," he said. "I
prefer this duty, so I have made it mine."

"Well, I thank you, Ulrich, for your steadfast duty in
keeping us safe," she said softly, turning and hurrying across the courtyard
and into the keep.

Ulrich sat down on a small wooden bench the washer women
used for their washing. His shoulders slumped. How had he come to this point
where the face he showed was no longer the man he was?

"Ulrich." Ulrich brought his sword up as he
swiftly regained his feet. Mandrak came from behind him. "You have done
well. I feel the energy of the sacred circle is open to me tonight."

With hard eyes, Ulrich watched the sorcerer approach the
small circle of trees. Surely, he thought, with Mandrak gaining entry to the
sacred circle, all was now wrong with the world and it would soon grow more
desperate.

¤¤

As Mandrak approached the double tree he threw back his
hood, his hands reaching upwards toward the gnarled tree limbs that formed an
arch. For once the circle was unprotected, he could feel its vulnerability. For
a moment he rubbed his hands, barely able to restrain a shout. Finally, luck
had brought him to the circle so that he may harness its unearthly power.

He stepped forward, ducking his head slightly to avoid the
limbs which began to tangle and close the way in. He pushed them aside and with
a knife he hacked at the limbs that would deny him entry. The cut limbs looked
as if they bled after he cut them, but he did not care. He needed to get
inside.

Once inside the sacred circle, he stood there, looking up,
his arms and hands extended behind him. A blinding flash of light, almost like
a lightning bolt, went into his chest. The force of the bolt threw him to the
ground. He lay there for long moments, his cheek in the dirt, feeling the
rending burn in his chest. Then gradually, he was pulled up, as if a babe in
its mother's arms, until he stood on his own feet. The blinding light around
him swirled and danced, and he slitted his eyes almost closed at its extreme
brightness. He felt the force of the light energy filling his body, expanding
him in all ways, so that he saw pictures, places, events, marks of history. It
all played before his eyes and he watched, fascinated, despite the horrific pain
of the white light piercing his chest. Despite the pain, he fed on the energy
until gradually it began to lessen, as did the pain.

"No," he said between gritted teeth. "I would
have all of the power -- I demand more energy, more light." And the full
force of the energy once again poured into his chest like a bolt from heaven or
hell, filling him completely, until he felt as if his skin should burst to let
it out as it went in.

Mandrak fell to the ground, eyes closed, all of time now
inside his head. All the evil, the good, the history, the power of those long
gone. It was all his to use as he pleased.

When he opened his eyes he stared at his hands. The ends of
his fingers were cracked open and light leaked out, spraying like water from
his fingertips. With a laugh he closed his fists, containing the light, and
then he hid his hands inside his wide sleeves.

When the light around him fully faded, Mandrak rose to his
feet. He left the circle of trees, feeling the change within and the power he
now held contained within his body.

He walked across the courtyard, barely noticing Ulrich's
eyes wide and watching. He stopped, lifted his hand and looked at the leakage
of light, then up at Ulrich.

"What do you think of it, Ulrich?"

"Y-your face, my lord."

Mandrak touched his face with one hand.

"Your skin is ripped away, my lord sorcerer."

Mandrak smiled. "But it does not matter." He
pressed his palms over his face, then lifted them to the top of his head.
"Now?" he asked, smiling.

Ulrich blinked, stepped back. "Your face is once more
as fresh as a young man's."

"Of course. I have the power to heal myself." He
looked up into the night sky. "It is glorious to feel this power pulsing
through me. Glorious." Slowly, his face changed back to the rotting flesh.
"Await my further orders," he instructed briskly.

"Yes, my lord sorcerer."

¤¤

Iliana moved quietly through the keep, up the stairs and
along the short hall. She knocked upon Erik's door, then gently pushed it
inward.

"Erik?" she called softly. He stood at the window
embrasure, the linen covering pushed aside, as he stared out into the dark
night. Naked from the waist up, with merely his leggings in place and barely
covering his well muscled calves, his bare feet were placed upon what had to be
a cold stone floor. He turned at her entrance, a smile lighting his eyes and
then his face.

Iliana studied his well muscled chest, the light tracing of
hair which ran down into his leggings. Hard muscle and brawn, and a fearsome
scar on his neck and chest.

She moved into his chamber. "Erik -- how fares your
wound?"

Erik turned his arm so the wound was more easily seen, the
flesh knitted together, but still pink. "It is healing well," he said
dismissively, "Sorenta supplied me with more of the healing powder."
He smiled. "That, and your healing touch."

Iliana gently touched the skin beside the wound. "Good,
there is no heat under the skin."

"Do not worry over it," he said. Instead, he
smiled down at her, the light and desire in his green eyes her undoing. It
fanned a spark in Iliana which had lain dormant, suppressed, for a very long
time. Erik closed the small gap between them, reached out and grasped her
shoulders. Slowly, he urged her into the heated warmth of his embrace.

Iliana touched the warm skin of his back, closed her eyes
and inhaled his scent, but then pulled back slightly. She touched the scar on
his neck which ran down over his chest. "Erik, the scars you have are most
fearsome. Please tell me how this occurred." Gently, she traced the scar,
its once puckered skin now flat and white. Up close like this, she could see
where the skin had been torn and then pulled together.

"Iliana, it is not a pretty tale. Perhaps it is best
left for another time. I have lived a life full of danger, I will be the first
to admit that to you. Overall, I have been successful in my quests, but I will
admit I have not always followed the prudent path."

She gave a slight shiver. "Please, Erik, I would know
now." She looked up at him, gave him a slight smile. "We have all
night, do we not?"

"William?"

"He sleeps with Rowenna by his side."

"Then let us be comfortable instead of by this drafty
window." He took her hand and led her to the bed. He clasped her around
the waist and she gripped his muscular arms as he lifted her onto the high bed.
They half-reclined on the bed furs, his fingers tracing up and down her arm.
Iliana tried to concentrate as he began his story.

"When I was a lad at sea barely into my teen years, I
began working for my government. This government is similar to the courts as
you know them today in your world. I began by doing a little spying. I was very
good at my job but it was fairly secretive work. As time went on, I received
increased responsibilities due to my diligence. During this time I met my
brother Darien in a tavern fight."

She looked at him wide-eyed. "You fought with your
brother?"

He smiled in reminiscence. "Yes, we were caught up in a
fight. As we were about to beat the tar out of each other, we really looked at
one another. We knew right away something unusual was happening. We exchanged
our stories, and decided in the end we shared the same father. Darien knew his
father until he was fifteen, where upon his -- our father -- just disappeared
one day. I never knew the man, as he left my mother before I was born."

"I find that sad, Erik, that you never had your father.
And yet it is a familiar story, is it not? Look at my own little William,"
she mused. "And yet you and your brother found each other, that is surely
a reason to rejoice?"

"Yes -- and it was a chance encounter. My route to the
sea was chosen by me, whereas Darien's was not. When we met, he had just quit
the sea. But that really is a story for another time. As my adventures for the
government grew more dangerous, I began to track a treacherous fellow who went
by many names. I was not even sure of his real identity, only the current name
at any given moment. There was nothing he would hesitate to do for money, no
deed too evil. I had been tracking him for six years or more. One night he and
four men jumped me on my own vessel as we sat docked in the harbor. He killed
two of my men that night. We fought and he laughed as he slit my throat with a
dagger. He swore to cut off my head, and he nearly succeeded."