Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (5 page)

 Erik watched the other man's eyes, saw them shift from side
to side. He had fought enough men to know Camdork thought to disarm him with
trickery.

When Camdork sidestepped and then lunged toward him, Erik
easily evaded him.

"Stop," Erik demanded. "I have done you no harm."

Hurling curses, the man recovered himself, waving his men
back when they moved forward. He glared at Erik, his face twisting as he
brandished the shining blade before him.

"It would be so easy to kill you," he taunted.

"You are welcome to try," Erik said. "I've
come a long way, and now to be confronted by your army -- for what
purpose?"

Camdork snarled, "Mandrak told me you would come.
You've come for her. You think to steal the lands I have worked toward all
these years." He seemed overcome with a furious anger. "I would not
have believed it, but Mandrak's prophecy is proven once more. We have awaited
your arrival a month in this place. And here you are."

Erik's eyes narrowed. "We are here upon the whim of the
sea. My ship was pulled through a tempest to this harbor --"

Shaking his head, a small measure of control seemed to
return to the other man. "I was forewarned of your coming." He shook
his head like a dog would shake. "I was warned, but I did not fully
believe it." He glared at Erik. "I will not allow you to decide my
fate. I will prevent that which is destined. My queen will surely agree."

"Let me meet with your queen. Surely she will see my
ship and I are no threat."

Camdork continued as if he had not spoken. "The Lady
Iliana is not worth one's life. I will change Fate's course -- erase the
destiny which is written. I am a man with many years and many plans, and yet
your arrival will disrupt all I have worked for." The feverish light in
Camdork's gaze intensified. Suddenly, he smiled. "It is you who will play
out this child's game." He threw back his head and laughed.
"Yes!" Pushing his sword point into the fine white sand, he leaned
heavily against the jeweled hilt. He nodded. "Aye, 'ere from this day on
you will go in my stead, 'tis you who will bear the brunt of the fates and I
will take care of more important concerns."

"All I hear is riddles," Erik said.

The other man stood upright. "You know!" he
accused, mottled color rising in his cheeks and the edges of his blond beard.
"You've come for her, is that not so? Are you not man enough to admit it
is she whom you seek?" He untied long leather thongs which held a shield
against his right shoulder. A dragon reared against a royal blue background on
the battered shield. The man thrust it toward Erik.

"Recognize you this crest? It is the crest of Weinroof
of Camdork."

Moving swiftly, Erik stepped forward to knock the shield
from the other's hold. The shield landed face down in the sand as Erik brought
his sword swiftly up against the man's neck. Deliberately, he touched the blade
to flesh, pulling the man to his chest, ignoring Camdork's man Ulrich who moved
threateningly closer. He could feel the heat of the man at his back.

"Call him off and drop the sword," Erik instructed
softly. Camdork jerked his hand back and Ulrich retreated. He dropped his own
sword to the sand and it clattered against the shield. Erik kicked both away
with his boot. "I have just arrived, and I find this a poor welcome for a
visitor to your land."

"You must go to Dutton Keep in my stead," choked
out the other man.

"What makes you think you can bid me to follow your
orders?"

The man managed to jerk his head toward his men. Erik turned
but too late. Two of Camdork's men grabbed Jock by the elbows and pulled him
back, his heels digging into the sand. One of the men held Jock against him,
his arm tight against his throat in the same manner that Erik now held Camdork.
Jock stared at Erik, grave apology evident in his eyes. His small size gave him
no leverage against the giant who held him.

"You will go in my stead," the man choked,
"or my men will make short work of that one. A small twist and his neck
will snap. Or perhaps we could make sport and have him drawn and quartered, his
innards left for the birds to pick at."

Erik tightened his fingers, allowing the steel edge to cut
into the man's skin, causing a small trickle of blood to run, soaking into his
wool mantle. "Why do you threaten my ship and involve me in this scheme? I
should cut your throat."

"Nay, desist. Think you are quick enough before a blade
finds its way to your heart?"

The dark giant, Ulrich, was at his back. Jock was hoisted
between two of Camdork's men. With a mutter, Erik stepped back slowly, lowering
his sword.

Camdork straightened. "You have no choice but to do my
bidding," he growled, adjusting his hauberk which had been twisted askew,
and then he smiled. "In my stead you will go to Dutton Keep. It is hidden
deep along the edge of the forest, an advantageous site that controls trade
into the countryside. You will find the village and then the keep a mere day's
ride from here. You must swear on your scrawny friend's life to do as I bid
ye."

Camdork looked Erik up and down and sneered, "We may
look alike but you come from the sea, a sailor, not quite what was expected.
But you will have to do."

"And who is Iliana?" Erik asked coolly.

 "She is pledged to me by the queen. I am on my way to
Dutton Keep, but have discovered a vile plot against my queen is afoot. I am
needed elsewhere."

"If I am to go in your stead, I would hear what it is
you have planned," Erik declared, a deep tightness in his chest.

Suspiciously, the other man peered into his face, a muscle
twitching alongside his mouth. "It is a simple matter of a
betrothal." His smile was feral. "The women of this land warrant the
handling of a man unafraid of womanly vapors. I have heard Iliana detests the
very idea of marriage -- but I have vowed to have her." He laughed.
"My queen has granted my wish."

"And what is it I must do? If you think so highly of
the Lady Iliana, why have me go in your stead?"

"You are in no position to question what I am about.
Suffice it to say you are to be Weinroof of Camdork, affianced to my lady, the
fair Iliana of Dutton, until I have no further need of you." He stepped
back and looked Eric up and down. "Who else could you be? You will carry
my shield. You fit the description given."

"This ruse will not work."

Camdork's mouth thinned with displeasure, "The sorcerer
Mandrak will see to the rest. I have had the pleasure of meeting my lady
Graziela, sister to Iliana, but not Iliana herself. Due to skirmishes and other
happenstances, I have not been in this part of the country for some four
years." His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down. "You bear the
scars of the lash upon you, as do I." He turned his head and Erik saw the
sign of the lash as it scarred through the beard covering his jaw. "She
will have heard of these scars." His hand briefly touched his own cheek,
his expression turning sour once again. "She will not dare to question the
authority of her queen."

Despite the obvious danger, Erik sensed the beginnings of an
intriguing adventure. He did not question how this could be that he and his
ship had sailed to another time. Men had disappeared for years at sea. Had he
found a portal to traverse the strictures of time? His own brother, he hoped,
had found a way to a different time with his wife Elise...

Having begun this plotting, Camdork now appeared sullen.
"I am told Iliana is similar in appearance to Graziela, fair of form with
unblemished skin and fine teeth, and possessed of a gentle nature. My queen
knows of my devotion to this match and has therefore ordered this most
advantageous marriage. You are merely to go in my stead and keep her safe until
I come to claim her. I will explain all to Iliana when the time arrives. Guard
her with your life, but be forewarned, should you touch her, I shall kill you
and this little man." He jerked his head carelessly toward Jock. "And
the ship which you prize so highly will be burned in the water. I order you to
see to it Iliana does not escape and harm herself." His smile was a slight
twist of thin lips, "Guard her or you shall die in a most gruesome
way."

Erik glanced at Jock, who rolled his eyes and shook his
head.

"Iliana is no longer young," Camdork said.
"She was hidden at a country manor until it was determined she was needed
when Graziela retired to a monastery. Now that I have expressed my interest in
an alliance, no lord or vassal in the kingdom would dare to have her. The
agreement has been signed, needs be the ceremony is yet to take place, but we
are man and wife in the eyes of England. See that naught happens to my
bride."

"And what reward is there in it for me?" Erik
asked.

Camdork laughed shortly. "You get to live. When I no
longer require your services, you may return to your ship."

Erik felt uneasiness at this plot, and a plot he was sure it
was. In his bones he knew things were dreadfully amiss. He would play this game
and see it to whatever end. Despite the danger, his appetite was whetted and
curiosity aroused. Perhaps he could play the role, if only for a short while.
Jock's life depended upon his cooperation as did that of his men and ship, at
least until they could get the ship free from whatever held it chained in those
waters.

"Well, then," he said gruffly, feigning
impatience, "take me to this keep so that I may do my duty by the queen.
When do we leave?"

Camdork looked at him sharply, brows lowered with suspicion,
then he emitted an abrupt laugh. "Right away. 'Tis a fortnight before
Mayday, as well you know. You must be fully ensconced at Dutton Keep by the
Mayday celebration." Camdork indicated a horse for him to ride. "Come,
we will switch garments. Just remember I shall be keeping watch, always near.
For now Ulrich will instruct you. You!" he shouted at Jock. "You
shall ride with me."

Erik looked at Jock, knowing him to be a scrappy mate but
worried nonetheless. Jock shrugged, then looked resigned. "Be well,
Jock," Erik said.
Don't do anything foolish.

They left Camdork at the seafront and Erik rode all day
along the sea coast with the men at arms. Camdork's man Ulrich ignored him, his
massive horse leading the way. The man had been given his orders to keep him in
line and to report to Camdork regularly. He'd sent Erik a grim look before
turning his back and starting off. Erik too wasn't in favor of this situation
but knew enough right now to keep his mouth shut. It was not difficult; Ulrich
said not a word.

Erik took note of everything that went on about him. The
men's talk, crude jokes, reminisces about previous skirmishes. It puzzled him
greatly why he'd been sent in Camdork's behest. Could he really pull off an
impersonation and why did Camdork want to hide? From the little he gleaned by
listening to conversations around him, the fellow was truly a beast and a
murderer of innocents. He wreaked havoc wherever he went. In his years of service
for his government, Erik had seen many a scoundrel, but a man that thought
nothing of killing children and innocents held no regard for life whatsoever.

Erik needed to tread carefully in this deadly situation. He
certainly did not trust Camdork to be a man of honor nor did he trust him to
keep his word when this scheme was over. Jock was smart, and he hoped agile
enough to evade Camdork when the time was right.

Erik had to wonder what other trickery this world held.
Their ship had been turned end over end to get here and yet the last he had
seen of her in the water, she'd look as fit as any other day, and he thanked
God for that. It would be his means of escape if his men could free her from
whatever witchcraft held her fast in the water.

Their troop kept to the roads, riding through the
countryside. The grass, Erik thought, should have been fresh and green, but
instead was brown and yellow. Even the leaves trying to bud on the tree were
small and stunted. The roads traveled were a mired, muddy mess, in some places
no more than a goat path, and they tromped through mud up to the horses' knees
as they trudged through swamps. The horse he rode was a sturdy steed, a
destrier, one of the men had called it, and he was built solidly and was a
comfortable ride. Having raised horses with his brother Darien, Erik wondered
at the horse's lineage. For an animal so large, he certainly had a beautiful
head, and Erik would have bet there was Arabian in his line.

Erik wasn't too fond of Camdork's garments that he'd been
made to wear. A quilted shirt with tiny chain links, and then linen braies the
men had called them, and longer trousers over those. To his chagrin, his sturdy
leather boots had been taken away, and he'd been given ill fitting leather
shoes that felt as if they'd been wet and dried repeatedly, leaving them stiff
and chafing already at his ankles. He tried to ignore the stench he carried,
since the borrowed clothing was none too clean. All of it had been cast off
from Camdork, and Erik looked forward to a hot bath, should that be an option,
if they arrived somewhere civilized.

As they traveled the road gradually became firmer and much
dryer, and as they passed a small village, Erik was reminded of his home in the
Catskills. Gone, all gone, as his brother was gone. And Elise, sweet Elise.
Erik smiled at his thoughts, hoping his brother and sister-in-law had found the
place they'd sought in her time.

The dense foliage and forest gave way to a wide-open
clearing. Erik looked up at a castle in the distance, the sun settling upon the
stone, giving it a pink-rose hue in the late afternoon glow. The sky was a blue
jeweled backdrop, and yet directly over the castle the sky was blood-red. Erik
had sailed the world at large since he had been a boy, but never had he experienced
such an intense display of color. The cold grey stone of the castle was
surrounded by a mystical haze. He shook his head, cautiously glancing around,
looking at the faces beside him, wondering if he was the only one seeing that
haze.