Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (24 page)

Ulrich hesitated, his bulk filling the small doorway.
"Thank you," he muttered.

Ducking his head and with the boy in one crook of his arm
and the wrapped trencher of food in his other hand, he stepped outside and
walked back toward the sorcerer's dwelling.

Ulrich twitched his nose. A foul smell hung in the air. No
doubt it was the bodies at the edge of the wood, but then again it might well
be Mandrak and the flesh that rotted upon his body.

He pushed open the wood covering the doorway, which hung
barely upright and pushed it back into place, then entered the small room where
Mandrak sat still hunched over the book.

He placed the wrapped trencher on the table and the sorcerer
looked up. "Ah, the old crone sends my food. I had wondered if she
forgotten." He looked at Ulrich, his eyes piercing. "And you shut up
that child."

"Aye. I shall go back to my guard and leave him
here," Ulrich said.

Mandrak waved a hand dismissively. "Nay, he is suitably
dressed. Take him with you."

"I stand guard all night and the air grows
bitter."

"No matter. If he is hardy, he will fare well."

"Aye, my lord sorcerer, as you wish."

Ulrich turned to leave and as he stepped out of the dwelling,
Mandrak called to him. "We are near the end, Ulrich, and your loyalty has
done you well. You will be richly rewarded when the green gem is mine."

Ulrich clenched his jaw, but he bowed his head and managed,
"Thank you, my lord sorcerer." He stepped out into the deepening dusk
and looked down at his small charge. As the crone had predicted, the child now
slept with a full stomach.

The horses stood tethered outside and he looked back at the
door that stood askew, with Mandrak inside and hunched over the volume. He looked
over at Camdork, but he had disappeared. Ulrich looked back at where he'd eaten
with the old woman, and saw shadows moving swiftly within the walls. He heard a
scream, abruptly cut off, and started toward that dwelling, but suddenly
Camdork stood in the doorway, covered in blood.

Ulrich mounted his horse, his glance on Camdork, but the man
seemed not to notice him as he rode past.

Ulrich sighed, knowing the course he had set for himself.
The sorcerer, in his arrogance, would never imagine that anyone would dare to
disobey his orders.

¤¤

Ulrich rode his horse hard. He hoped to put many miles
between himself and the sorcerer before he was missed. His guard watch would
give him until day's break before he was supposed to report back. Even so,
Ulrich knew there was no escape for him, for the sorcerer would alert the
fighter dragons once it was realized he had fled with the child. Or perhaps he
would appear out of thin air and simply pluck him off his horse.

He would fight as he had been trained these thirty years and
more, and he would not fight a coward's way, but to the end protecting the
child as was right. If it all came to naught, then so be it. But he would go to
his death doing what he had not done in life. Protecting the innocent.

For Ulrich, the outcome for himself no longer mattered. He
had long ago lost his honor when he had signed on as mercenary, one campaign
after another. His life tapestry had shriveled and withered away nine years
before. Up until that moment, he had looked at it from time to time, seeing the
many chances he had been offered to change his life's course, but he had turned
away, and finally, the tapestry lay trampled in the dirt after one horrific
campaign.

His tapestry had not been the only one trampled by hundreds
of horses. So many men at arms had sold their souls, and all to no avail.

But now he could no longer fall in with the sorcerer's
diabolic plan. Mandrak was a madman, out of touch with his own humanity with no
shred of anything human left inside. As his mind grew more evil, his body
wasted away even more.

Ulrich slowed his horse and allowed the animal to walk for a
pace, the animal's breath blowing mightily in the chill night air. He opened
the leather thongs on his saddle sack, and pulled out linen he carried onto the
battle field to bind wounds. Although stained, it was relatively clean. He
wound the linen strip around his chest and tied it, then slipped the child down
into the front, facing him, effectively binding him to his chest. The child
still slept, and that was for the best. They had a hard night's ride ahead of
them. He needed to find a safe stronghold before the fighter dragons caught up
with them. He smiled mirthlessly. At least he had to try. Perhaps the saints
would smile kindly upon him, and this last action would make up for a life well
lived, but not lived well.

It was as the sun began to rise along the ridge of hills
that Ulrich knew his time was near. He could only hope there was a heaven and
no hell.

He knew of the little monastery that straddled the red soil
along the short hills, a short distance from where he had found the pretender
and Lady Iliana. The child would be safe there.

He looked down at the child's dark curls just visible in the
sling. "Sleep now, little one. The night grows ever short."

¤¤

The stone walls of the monastery were a welcome sight as
they trotted along the rough and rutted path.

Erik worried mightily about Iliana, the feverish light in
her eyes. He worried terribly for William. How could a small boy survive in the
care of that fiend Devanesque -- a man who had cheated death twice?

He had not expressed his extreme worries to Iliana, nor had
he told her he knew the madman. What purpose would it serve but to make her
fret and worry more? She looked ready to break now -- her pale skin, usually
with the faintest hint of pink cheeks, now looked white and drawn. Erik himself
felt a great urgency to ride off in pursuit of Ulrich, but he knew she would
not stay behind. He feared what they would find when William was found. If he
was found. Back in his time Devanesque had earned himself a reputation for
making captives disappear.

Iliana had spoken of little else besides her ladyship
Graziela as they made their way to the monastery. He shook his head. This world
was so strange to him, things at times upside down. How, he wondered, could
this happen, where spells were cast and people appeared to be other than who
they really were?

He looked up into the almost dark sky, seeing a shadow
flying overhead, then another one. The wer-dragons. Were they keepers of the
skies, as she had claimed, or were they killers awaiting an opportunity to
strike?

Erik lifted the pounded iron door knocker and dropped it
against the monastery's heavy wooden door. A small wood window within the door
opened and a woman's face appeared.

Iliana stepped forward. "I am Iliana of Dutton Keep. We
seek shelter within your walls for the night. My child has been taken by the
sorcerer Mandrak. We would ask to speak with her ladyship Graziela."

The small wooden door closed with a snap.

Erik looked at Iliana. "I will break down this
door," he muttered, touching the iron straps which reinforced the heavy
wood.

Iliana pressed her fingers into his arm. "Patience,
Erik my love."

He looked down at her, touched her dark hair as it lay
tangled upon her shoulders. She looked ready to fall, her eyes enormous in her
face, the worry having created a pinching around her mouth.

There was a sound of metal grating and the heavy wood door
swung outward. A woman stood in the entrance and at first Erik thought her a
man. Dressed in a brown robe, her hair shaved in the renowned tonsure style of
male monks, Erik stared at the woman, bemused. A female monk. What else, pray,
would he find reversed in this world?

Iliana walked through the doorway.

"You request to speak with her ladyship Graziela?"
the woman softly inquired.

"Yes," said Iliana. "My child's life is in
danger. Tell her I must speak to her about the green gem."

"My ladyship does not speak with anyone. I fear you
will be disappointed and your journey in vain," the woman said regretfully.

"You have returned." They both turned at the new
voice.

A tall woman stood before them, lantern held high, dressed
in a long flowing gray tunic over a white tunic, a dull brown mantle head piece
concealing her hair. In the lantern light which she held out to the side, she
looked quite elderly, yet the hand holding the lantern never wavered.

"Abbess," Iliana said, bowing her head.

"Come to the gardens so that we may talk." The
woman Iliana had called Abbess turned and led the way. As they passed through a
narrow corridor, several wooden doors opened and young women stood in the
apertures, similarly garbed as the first monk.

"Annalaise," the Abbess paused beside the first
door, "please bring another lantern to the courtyard."

They moved through the dark corridor and out a small door at
its end. Once more the night air was upon them.

The Abbess placed her lantern on a small pedestal beside
carved stone seats and the younger girl hurried behind them and then placed her
lantern on the ground.

"Please sit," the Abbess said, indicating the
stone seats. "You have requested to speak with her ladyship, but alas her
illness keeps her confined these many years and rarely does she leave her
chamber. We are aware of the sorcerer who invaded our world many years ago. He
brought darkness with him, and the fighter dragons he harnessed to put fear
into the people. Our wer-dragons are peaceful, but we fear it is only a matter
of time before he also uses this gentle creature against us. It is only since
this year's harvest that he seeks power beyond his scope and due. He has slowly
banished the joy and life from our world, and indeed he has already turned the
red hills arid and barren. I have lived within these walls all these years
happily, cloistered from the outside, but even we here are in danger." She
looked at Iliana. "You have done the people a great service, but there is
more anguish to come unless he is stopped. Have you remembered our first
meeting?"

Iliana frowned. "I have vague memories from three
summers past, when I went into the red soil hills."

"Your arrival in this time was in agreement with your
wishes, Iliana," the abbess said. "In your own time you had suffered
great anguish. The saints would not let you die as you wished, and so you came
to this time and shouldered this mission."

"My memory is not clear," Iliana admitted,
"even my life tapestry shows me only swirling mists."

"Three summers ago your experiences with the fighter
dragons were such you chose to forget them, and we wove a spell of dreaming
upon your life tapestry so you could wipe the terror from your memory. We
brought you to this place, healed your wounds, but your body was greatly broken
and you did not recover right away. We put you into a gentle sleep, and in that
sleep you traveled through time."

"It was three years ago you appeared on my ship,"
Erik said, clenching a fist against his thigh. He leaned forward when Iliana
looked confused.

"You champion her cause," the abbess said softly,
nodding. She took Iliana's hand in her own. "You must understand it was
your choice. Whatever your life before, you asked to leave that behind and take
up the mantle of this quest. You have been very brave."

As the abbess looked at him, Erik wondered at the glow
behind her dark eyes. "It was necessary for you to come here also, Erik of
t
he
Merry
Maiden
. When love took root, you searched for her endlessly." She
lifted her head. "Such sorrow you carried in your heart."

Iliana frowned. "For a time I did not remember Erik,
either."

"You held deep anguish in your heart and it was not
necessary to add this also." The abbess put her hands together. "Your
search for the green gem has been brought full circle. This is where your
search began."

"But I have not found it, and now my son has been
taken."

"We must bring the child back. You wish to love this
child?" the abbess asked Erik.

He nodded. "I would love Iliana's child as my
own."

"He is held beyond the short hills, as that one Ulrich
spoke."

"Then it is true," Iliana said quickly. "We
must ride there immediately, despite what Ulrich cautioned."

"Nay, if you should go beyond the short hills,"
the abbess said, "this time the fighter dragons will kill you. All will be
lost, and there will be a child without a mother."

"But surely you can't expect us to wait, hoping that
Ulrich can do something?" Iliana asked in anguish.

"Waiting for a mother is time that stretches into an
eternity of suffering, but it is a trial you must endure. You cannot return to
that place," the abbess said sadly, "not even for your child."

Iliana looked out into the dark all around them, her
shoulders slumping.

"It will serve no good if you are dead."

"Are you afraid I will be no help in finding your green
gem?" Iliana asked bitterly.

"No help to your son," the abbess corrected
gently.

"Then what can we do?" Erik asked, standing
restlessly. "All the government missions I have planned and led, and now I
cannot cross these hills to find a child." He clenched his fists in
frustration.

"Ulrich has already spirited the child away. You must
wait ere he reaches the short hills."

Iliana looked up, her fingers clenched. "So there is
hope?"

"There is always hope." The abbess stood. "In
time your memories will return but gently, so as not to create confusion in
your mind. That which you once shunned in your previous life, you may now
embrace."

"If I should wish to return, how may I take my son with
me?"

The abbess smiled. "You have always had the power to
return from where you came. You just chose not to view that choice. Remember
this, when you took up this mission, you embraced it fully, and immersed
yourself in this time."