Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (9 page)

"Of course." Her dark eyes opened wide. "You
are the key to the treasure."

Erik frowned.

"You must claim your life tapestry before it is
tainted," the old woman said, turning and walking away.

"Where will I find it?" he asked her retreating
back.

"Under the dragon."

"Where the devil is the dragon?"

 She was there one moment, then vanished before his eyes.

Erik moved to where she had stood and ran his palms along
the walls. He pushed against the cold stone in several places, but to no avail.
How could that crone disappear even while he watched? But then he remembered
the strange things he had seen; his brother Darien and Elise had dissolved
before his eyes. That was almost a year ago and he had never seen them since.

He pondered the old woman's abrupt disappearance, and even
stranger, the words she had spoken. Edward, the lad he had met in the bailey
earlier that morning, came up the stairs toward him.

"My Lord Camdork?" the boy queried, his face
concerned as he observed Erik pushing against the seemingly impenetrable stone
walls. With a rueful grimace, Erik straightened from the wall. "There was
an old woman here. While we spoke, she disappeared in an instant."

The boy nodded, his face losing its concerned look.
"Yes, my lord. That would be Sorenta. She comes and goes. No one is quite
sure in what manner."

"She just disappears?"

"It would appear so, my lord. We are all familiar with
her coming and going. I imagine it is strange for one such as yourself upon the
first meeting."

"One such as myself?"

The boy bit his lip and looked down. "That is, someone
new to Dutton Keep, my lord." His voice was low as he met Erik's eyes
again, his body held stiffly erect. "She does not usually show herself to
those living outside these walls."

"But lad," Erik said softly, "I now live
within these walls."

"Yes, that you do," the boy agreed quickly.
"Mistress Iliana sent me to tell you food is prepared and they await your
presence."

Erik turned to follow the boy toward the great hall he had
passed on his way through the keep earlier. "I think perhaps mistress
Iliana would not mind if you did not find me at all."

The boy looked uncomfortable, then looked up at Erik and
blurted. "In truth, I expected you to be out in the courtyard with your
men at arms. I did not expect to find you at once within."

"Ah, so Iliana sent you to search where she expected me
not to be?"

The boy didn't respond, but no reply was needed.

"Sorenta told me the year was 1228. Do you read? Do you
know the year?"

Edward looked perplexed, then a bit wary. "Her mind is
not foggy, although she likes to speak in riddles, my lord Camdork. It is 1228
in the reign of Queen Eleanor of Brittany."

Stranger and stranger. Time traveling. He knew of it but how
was it so? It was what he had surmised, but to have it confirmed...

"Queen Eleanor of Brittany? She was never queen,"
he said, thinking back to the bits of British history he knew. "She was
imprisoned most of her adult life."

Edwards eyes grew wide. "B-but my lord --"

"What of Henry the Third?"

Edward frowned. "He is imprisoned, my lord, at Bristol
Castle."

Erik nodded, not really understanding any of it. "So events
are reversed and twisted."

The sooner he discovered what Camdork was really about, he
could find Jock and depart this unwelcome and cold heap of stone. He had to
convince Iliana to come with him. He had to make her remember him. Erik knew
there was always a way, so he didn't ponder anything other than eventually
returning to his own time. He thought of the child, surely less than a year
old. Whose child?

The young maid he had seen in Iliana's room earlier was
nearly halfway down the stairs, her arms laden with linens.

Erik frowned, thinking he saw a shadow moved swiftly behind
her. The maid looked behind her and up the steep stairs and she began to lose
her balance. Teetering precariously on the wooden steps, she looked about to
fall backwards. With a screech, her arms flew upwards and neatly folded linen
sailed in various directions as she attempted to keep herself from falling.

Reacting quickly, Erik lunged up the steps. His fist
clenched material and he pulled her towards him. He heard the material of her
tunic tear in his hand. She did not plummet down the stairs, but flung herself
toward him as he heaved them toward the wall and away from the open stair. She
landed heavily against him, her face inches from his own, her breasts bare and
heaving upon his chest.

Pushing wispy blond strands from her eyes, for she had lost
her cap, Agnes stared with wide eyes at him, then down at his arms which had
crushed her to him, examining their position with something of a bold grin, and
an invitation if he chose to acknowledge it as such.

"Are you all right?" Erik asked.

Agnes smiled at him shakily. "I swear I felt a hand on
my back, my lord. "'Twas my own fault for not paying closer attention to
where I put my feet." As if just realizing how her breasts were exposed to
his view, and that of young Edward's, she made an attempt to cover them with
her hands.

"Agnes! What --"

Iliana, no doubt having heard Agnes' screech, stood at the
bottom of the stairs.

Erik could imagine what went through her mind. For all
intents and purposes it appeared he'd waylaid her maid, torn her tunic in his
eagerness, the remnants of which were still between his fingers and her bare
breasts next to his hands.

"Agnes," Iliana said in a cool voice, "please
cover yourself and retrieve the linens."

"Mistress --" began Edward, his voice imploring.

"Edward, I see you have found my Lord Camdork, as I
asked you to do.  Now I believe you are needed to help with the serving of the
repast. Cook has begun to carry in trenchers."

Edward ducked his head and scooted down the hallway.

Agnes scrabbled around, trying to reach the once-clean linen
she'd been carrying. She grabbed several, holding them against her breasts as
she rose, then accepted the hand Erik offered, her eyes offering him silent
apology.

"Agnes!"

"I am sorry mistress, but the laundress will need to
clean this linen once more. Oh, 'twas my fault," Agnes babbled, "in
truth I was not looking --"

Iliana advanced down the stairs. "Agnes, leave
us," she said patiently.

The maid fled.

Iliana looked him as he remained unmoving on the stairs.

"Perhaps you think to enjoy all the young women in this
castle," she bit out furiously, "but I will not have it. You will
respect my wishes not to be made a fool of and leave the women of Dutton Keep alone.
Neither shall you be such an influence on young Edward. If you cannot contain
yourself, I ask you to find a willing woman outside these walls."

Erik lifted a brow. "You wish for me to do my wenching
outside these walls?"

"Exactly," Iliana said. "And it is quite
unseemly we should have this discussion." She clenched her hands together.
"Please cover your chest."

Erik looked down. The material of his tunic gaped, and
apparently it did not please the lady as she frowned in annoyance.

With an exasperated mutter, she turned and traced her steps
back to the great hall where tables were now laden with food. He caught up with
her.

"Iliana. I believe Agnes was pushed --"

She looked at him. "By whom?"

"I don't know. I saw a dark shadow --"

"She said she took a misstep."

"I know what I saw."

"And should I believe you?"

"I do not lie," he said softly. "I am not
Camdork," he added for her ears alone.

"You will excuse me." She turned away.

With a sigh, Erik caught up with her. "I would escort
you."

She turned her shoulder to him. "I do not think I can
eat," she said with icy disdain. "I find I no longer have an
appetite."

"That is a shame," he said patiently. "It
smells quite inviting. I have not eaten since yesterday, so I will take my
leave and join the men."

"Wait." She halted, bit her lip and looked up at
him. "How long do you and your men intend to stay here? Surely you have
interests that will take you elsewhere?"

He sensed the emotion churning in her. No doubt she wanted
them gone. "I thought you knew." He made his words slow and measured.
"I plan to remain for some time. I am charged with seeing to the care of
the keep and its lands, and also the lady of the keep."

She stepped away from him. "But surely there is more
important business for you to attend to -- the queen's business?"

He shook his head. "Alas, no."

Erik left her standing there. No doubt she was caught in a
tangle of emotion and confusion. What more could he do but show his true
colors. Surely, she would see he was not that scoundrel?

¤¤

Iliana stared after Camdork with burning eyes. Nothing was
as it seemed with this man. One moment he played the gentlemen, the next he was
rutting after the maid.

Iliana needed a walk outside to clear her head. She needed
guidance, but of late, it was sorely lacking. If only she could find the green
gem, the treasure -- that was the key to her mission being completed. She would
be released from this prison; it was just all becoming too much for her to
bear. And what of William? He must come with her. She could never leave her
child behind. But what if he were not allowed to come with her? What then?

The sounds of revelry and shouts from Camdork's men in the
hall below stirred her ire until the late hours. She wondered did he remain
until the wee hours celebrating their upcoming marriage. With a disgusted
snort, Iliana imagined he did not. More than likely he'd sought out Agnes, or
some other comely maiden to spend the night with.

As Iliana went about her duties that evening, she gritted
her teeth until her jaws ached. The man had no sense of honor, no respect, no
character. Clearly, he was a threat to her and the people of the keep. He would
interfere with her mission, and she could not have that. The people under her
care would be at risk. The man's reputation alone demanded she remain alert,
and when the time was right, she must take action. The taking of a human life
did not sit well, but she knew there was no other choice. This time she must
act.

¤¤

"My lord, please, wait up, I canna see you, 'tis no
moon tonight." Agnes hurried after him in the dark, excited but a bit
unnerved by the darkness around them, especially as they moved outside the
protection of the village walls.

He made no reply, merely pulled his dark hood closer, but
Agnes was gratified when he put out a hand and grabbed hers tightly. Camdork
pulled her strongly into the shadow of the trees, his arm snaking about her
waist, pulling her hard and tight up to him. She gasped, her breath knocked
from her, but then she smiled. She caught a brief glimpse of his light hair
before his hands were all over her, pulling down her blouse and then his hands
were at her waist, pinching and ripping at her garments.

"Truth to tell, my Lord Camdork," she laughed
breathlessly, "I wasn't certain of this, me being maid to her ladyship and
all -- your affianced. Earlier you did not appear interested. Verily, Mistress
Iliana has been most kind. I do not wish to hurt her."

"Your mistress is a comely wench," he rasped in a
low whisper, lowering the girl to the stony ground. She put up a hand as pebbles
bit into her scalp.

"But come, we have other more important issues to
discuss, such as where we left off from only this morning." His mouth
dropped to hers, hard and bruising, his heavy weight pushing her punishingly
into the stony ground.

Agnes giggled, then put her arms around him, surprised by
his rough clothing, allowing the slight stirrings of guilt to be washed away by
passion. He pulled her cloak back, ripping at the coarse linen tunic beneath
the fine material, until his fingers touched her skin again. Punishingly, he
gripped the flesh of her abdomen between his fingers and twisted the flesh.

"My lady," he gritted.

¤¤

Iliana searched for Agnes early the next morning. The girl
had not shown herself as she was wont to do upon day break. Cook was also
disturbed by the girl's absence, having requested her help for the noontide
meal. Morning had come and gone before Iliana had news of the girl, and then
she wished she had not.

"Mistress," Rowenna, one of the kitchen maids,
waylaid Iliana as she prepared to make her way across the cobbled courtyard,
William on her hip. Iliana was intent upon reaching the postern door before
anyone made note of her presence. Camdork and his men were paired off, engaged
in an exchange of swordplay before a lustily wagering crowd which had gathered
in the courtyard, some of which included villagers.

"Yes, Rowenna?" Iliana halted, her eyes darting
quickly to the tall, blond headed man it the courtyard, then just as swiftly
back to the young girl.

"Cook said as how you was looking for Agnes, and
--" the girl hesitated, eyes downcast. Iliana gave her full attention to the
girl, something in her manner making her uneasy.

"Yes, Rowenna, what troubles you?"

The young girl's eyes briefly rested upon the two men and
their flashing swords, then she looked up at her mistress with tears in her
eyes, "It is Agnes. I fear she ran off last night. She had it in her head
to spend time with my lord."

"Who?" Despite the heat of the sun, a coldness
seeped through Iliana.

"I dare not speak of it, mistress, for I know not for
sure."

Urgently, Iliana urged the younger girl under the shadow of
the wine cellar entrance.

"Tell me. I shall not betray your confidence."
They moved further into the shadows. "Please know that you can trust me to
keep my word." The young girl turned to watch the two men who now lunged
at each other across the courtyard, one blond headed, one dark headed, both
deadly intent on besting the other.