When Lightning Strikes (27 page)

He reached out to reassure her taking her hand in his own.

“Sarah, all will be well. I promise you.
Oh-kay?”

He smiled at her.

She looked at him for a long moment before finally smiling back at him. She was still uneasy, but she was going to have to trust in him on this one. Her life depended on it, his life depended on it, and the lives of these people did as well.

Perhaps things would get better from this point on. They could find somewhere to hide out and hopefully, by now Navarre posed no threat to them.

Sarah looked all around her. These were a hardy, strong people and she somehow knew that they would make it. They survived out here in the elements through births, deaths, fights, wounds, illnesses and hunger. And through it all they carried on with pride, strength and many of them held a tremendous zest for life and a wicked sense of humor to help them endure it all.

She straightened her back and shifted her butt around in the saddle to get comfortable. It was going to be a long night. But somehow, she felt a renewed sense of strength with her husband and her new family here by her side.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Thomas’s expression hardened as his son spoke the words he had found hard to believe. Dominic had come into the keep and stolen Melissande away and had somehow cut Navarre’s arm to the bone in the darkness of the dungeon. He supposed it wasn’t hard to imagine why he would do such a thing , although for all of these years he had thought his illegitimate son to be a good man. Reports from the provincials told of his decency, bravery and that he had cared for Mara until the day she died – upon which time he had taken over her troupe.

But one thing stood out that didn’t sit quite right with him. Perhaps Dominic had finally been driven to take out the hurt and anger of a lifetime on Navarre, but dear God, to forcibly take Melissande? Dominic’s hatred should be directed at Navarre not at her, although he could think of no more bitter way to hurt a man than to steal away his wife. But somehow deep within his heart he knew that Dominic was not the type of man to force a woman – and an innocent one at that. Seduce her? Yes. Force her? No. Or would he? He was after all forced into the life of a gypsien. And they were known far and wide as highwaymen and thieves.

Perhaps there was more to the story. Had Melissande wanted to go with him? The girl was a sweet, quiet thing indeed. She was certainly not the type to go running off with a man other than her husband…but how strange – how different she had seemed when she came home from her ordeal. Had it changed her somehow?

And what of the stories of Navarre’s heavy-handedness toward her?
Were they true and she had been driven to run away to a man who treated her as a woman should be treated? Or did Navarre speak the truth and Dominic had indeed done such a heinous thing with no regard for consequence – only revenge.

These questions were left unanswered as Navarre’s voice brought him back from the recesses of deep thought.

“Father, I believe I should gather the men with no further waste of time.” Navarre was still standing, holding tightly to the binding on his arm as blood began to seep through the linen.

“You, Navarre, are in no condition to chase off after Melissande! You have scarcely recovered from the wound you suffered at the hands of the beast that dragged her off! You will stay. I will send a search party out at dawn.” Thomas’s voice indicated he was in no mood to listen to his son’s protests
..

And yet Navarre did dare to argue with him.

“Damn you, Father! I will not be humiliated! God’s blood…the lowly cur has stolen my wife, for Christ’s sake. What do you expect of me? It was bad enough that a swordsman of my stature was wounded by a beast in rut for all to see, but then to have that whoreson cut me down in the darkness of my own castle and take Melissande from my side is a bit much to bear, would you not agree?” His breath was coming in gasps now with his anger. “I will not allow myself to appear weak or lacking in my swordsmanship before the people.”

His eyes took on a crazed look. “You cannot stop me, you know. Would you not do the same for your wife?”

Waving his hands he walked over and punched into one of the walls then walked briskly back to where his father stood, moving until his face was only inches from Thomas’s.

“Never mind that.
I know how you feel for my mother.” He sighed heavily. “No. Rather tell me, would you have done the same for Mara?”

Thomas’s eyes took on a look of shock at his son’s words. Never had Navarre used her name in his presence. In fact he had never mentioned her at all that he could remember. He raised his hand to strike his son and then thought better of it. Navarre was already filled with hatred and violence and it would only bring out more if it in him.

Navarre backed off. His eyes never left Thomas’s.

“Well? Answer me, Father. Go ahead…although I suppose if you would have gone after her we would not be standing here now would we?”

Not that Navarre could even imagine such a thing – nor wanted to. Christ’s blood! His life would have really been ruined had Thomas acknowledged the gypsien and opened his home and heart to him. All that mattered in this moment was the power his words held.

Thomas stared at him in silence. Navarre’s words cut him to the bone.

“Yes or no?” Navarre goaded him further.

Thomas remained silent and then without warning he punched his son squarely in the mouth caring nothing for his previous concern as to whether he incited Navarre to violence or not. This was HIS keep and he was lord here and Navarre had gone too far with his words.

Navarre righted himself after the blow, his eyes boring into his father’s as he wiped the trickle of blood that oozed from his lip.

“You chose not to go after Mara and look what became of her and her son. You must live with the consequences of your actions and so I am quite certain you understand my position in the matter. I will go without further delay.
Not you nor even the king himself will stop me.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the door. He stopped for just a moment before crossing the threshold and turned back toward Thomas, his eyes gleaming.

“I will expect full retribution when I catch him, you know. She is my wife. She is noble. He is a lowborn and a thief. He has no doubt defiled her and committed treason against me. The law shall prevail in this case whether he is
your
son or not. He will go into the dungeon and in the end - he will hang, and you know it. You cannot protect him.”

He bowed lightly toward his father and walked out the door.

Chapter Thirty

Minutes later, Thomas  sat in the dimly lit library. The events of the evening were awash in his mind. Navarre had ridden out with a group of men to go after Dominic and to retrieve his wife. He knew that Navarre would not stop until he had found them both and brought them back here.

What was he to do? Dominic was his son…the son who had every right to hate him and to hate his half-brother as well. Navarre was his firstborn, his heir and legitimate child. He had trained and become a knight in service to the king, wed a fine noble girl from a well-off family, and lived the life any father would be proud of. His word held weight and he surely would speak the truth. Would he not?

All he knew was that right now his heart was torn at the thought of what was to become of the son he had abandoned so many years before. Dominic’s life had been hard – not the life of luxury and wealth that Navarre had known here in the safety of his home. He had been forced to live out in the wilds with his mother with none to love him save her and her people. He had no doubt been forced to situations that were not of the law in order to survive. He understood that and carried the guilt of years upon his shoulders for abandoning them and forcing them to such. But that was not going to stand as grounds with the law nor the people. If Thomas wished to be lenient, it would make him appear weak and partial to his own were he to let him go free.

If Navarre spoke the truth, then Dominic had gone too far and was indeed going to have to be punished. Thomas couldn’t bear the thought of his own flesh and blood….dear Mara’s son going to the hangman’s noose or the guillotine. But he also knew he would have no choice in the matter.

He crossed the room and poured himself a goblet of wine from a flask on one of the tables and went back to his chair to rub his throbbing temples. Perhaps Dominic would outsmart them all and escape and remain hidden somewhere. Or perhaps he himself could find some way to help them escape with none knowing of it.

He took a large gulp of wine as he pondered the situation further. Something was not sitting quite right with him. Somehow, he didn’t quite believe there wasn’t more to this story than appeared. He didn’t believe that Dominic had simply come here after all these years and stolen away Melissande without warning simply to get at Navarre. He had gone half a lifetime without any making any advances. Why now?

Then again, the evidence was indeed quite damning.

A light knock at the door roused him from his thoughts.

“Who is it?” He was not in any mood to speak with anyone right now.

“”Tis Margery, milord.
I needs ta see you, please.” Her voice was a whisper through the heavy door.

“Margery, please.
My head is throbbing and I am quite certain whatever it is can wait until the morn. You and Reginald are quite adept at handling the servants and running this household with minimal guidance. Just decide whatever you feel is best and be done with it.”

“No, milord.
This is important. It is not about the servants or the household. Please. This is most urgent!”

Thomas sighed heavily. “Very well, then. Come in.”

She opened the door and he motioned her near.

“Margery, I am sure you are aware of the events of the past hour. Please make haste.”

Margery’s brows knit together. “No milord, I am not. I have been in me chambers. What has happened?”

“Navarre has ridden out again with ten of the men. He has gone against my better advice, but I suppose I cannot blame him.” He sighed.

“Why, milord? Why did he ride in the middle of the night?” She feigned a look of distress, but she was quite certain he had gone out looking for the girl he thought was Melissande. Margery was actually relieved in a sense. It meant the girl had successfully escaped from the castle! Hopefully she would have time to get far enough away and hide.

“Melissande has been stolen away. Dominic came into the castle and took her. Navarre was wounded, quite badly I
might add. But he insisted upon riding off now instead of waiting until dawn.” He drank deeply from his cup.

Margery sighed. This was good. At least the girl was with the man she loved.

“Margery, I am troubled as you would guess. Dominic is after all my son, as you know. I cannot acknowledge him, but it is still so and I carry my guilt. And I know what will happen when he is captured and brought back here. He has stolen away a noble’s wife for Christ’s sake! My hands are tied and I will be forced to abide the law.”

Margery’s gasped.
This was not right that an innocent man would die for trying to recover his own wife!

“Milord Thomas, you must stop them! You must
.‘Tis not as you think! I have something for you.”

She pulled the little leather bound book from the bodice of her dress. “You must read this. I promised her, milord. It….it will tell you about your son. I cannot read it, but she did and she made me swear that I would give it to
ye.”

Thomas’ forehead wrinkled for second. “What are you talking of, Margery? What is this?”

“I…I do not know, milord. But she said it was written by yer lady Marie.”

“She who?”
Thomas cut her off in mid-sentence.

“Her.
Melissande. Or should I say, she who you believe is Melissande. Her true name is Sarah. But I tell ye, she is not who you think! And she said neither is your son Navarre. Please. I beg of ye. Just read this book.”

“You mean to say that the girl that was here is not Melissande?” His face took on a look of disbelief. “Why would you say such nonsense Margery? I have seen her myself. You have seen her.”

“Milord. I have been her nanny since she was but a babe and I am telling you that was not Melissande. She does not have the mark! Melissande has a mark that only I would know of…and perhaps her husband. Believe me, he knows she is not Melissande as well. He was only trying to pass her off as our lady.”

Thomas took a huge gulp of his wine nearly choking on
it. It all seemed unreal and yet what of her complexion and her strange accent….and the loss of her memory? He supposed it added up. But why? What on earth were her motives?

“Then who is she? Why was she here masquerading as Melissande! She can be hanged for such a thing, you know.”

“Milord, she was not trying to masquerade as Melissande. He….Navarre forced her to it because she looks so like milady. He threatened to kill her true husband if she told the truth.”

“And who would that be?
Some peasant?”

“No, milord.
Your son, Dominic du Barbaronne.”

Thomas spit wine all over his lap, sputtering. “She is wed to Dominic?!”

“Yes. She told me the whole story afore I helped her to escape before Navarre could force himself upon her.”

“Navarre tried to force her? He knowingly brought her here?” His expression darkened.

“I speak the truth! Navarre is not as you believe. And he has…” she began to choke back her tears. “He has done something to my sweet lady, Melissande. The true Melissande.  I believe he has killed her. He said such to Sarah before he tried to force her to his bed. He was using Sarah du Barbaronne to help cover his crime so ye would suspect nothing. There was naught he could do once rumor spread that she had been found amid the vagabonds. The story of the boar draggin’ her away was useless to him after that….” her words drifted off.

Thomas stared at Margery in silence.

“I swear to you, milord. What I speak is the truth. Please believe me – for I need my words to be worth something. He will no doubt hunt me down and try to kill me as well when he finds what I have revealed to ye.”

Thomas looked down at the book still in Margery’s grasp. His mind was moving at breakneck speed and his disbelief was indeed turning to belief after all. It was starting to add up. Melissande was very different when she had come back from her stay with the gypsies. Her skin was different. Her accent made no sense whatsoever and her memory? Well…she had lost it
according to Navarre. Why would Margery risk such treasonous accusations after so many years of faithful service, knowing that her life was at stake for such an act?

And he simply couldn’t fathom that his son, Navarre would murder sweet, timid and beautiful Melissande. Why on earth would he do such a thing? She was a perfect wife.

Not demanding…dutiful, well dowered. She even allowed him to dally with the servants as he saw fit. What more could a man ask for? Granted Navarre could be troublesome…in fact quite surly if provoked. But was he capable of murder?

“Margery, you do realize the consequences of your words were you to lie to me, do you not?”

“Yes! Yes, milord I do…and I beg of ye, that ye know I would never speak of such, unless I believed it to be true with all me heart. I have served ye for many, many years, milord, have I not?”

Thomas paused eyeing her thoughtfully. “Yes. Yes, you have indeed.” He sighed, reached forward and slowly took the book from Margery’s hands. “Thank you Margery. I will read this directly.” He nodded.

“Please milord. Make haste if you will. Navarre must be stopped….tis not right! Injustice will be served if you do not send someone after them to end this.”

“Rest assured I shall take action. But first I must read of what you have spoken. I must have grounds for those actions.”

Margery nodded and turned to leave closing the door quietly behind her.

Thomas opened the little book and began reading page after page of the diary. A story began to unfold as he leafed through the pages, stopping when he found something of interest or import. At last he reached the pages in which Marie told of Navarre’s conception and of her glee at ridding them all of Mara and Dominic, the endless spending and her treachery in general. Had she not been away and in the safety of her sister’s home, he wasn’t quite sure he wouldn’t have the inner strength not to wring her vile neck and enjoy watching as she turned blue beneath his powerful grip! But then again that would make him
no better than her son.

He dragged his hand back through his damp hair and fell back against the back of his chair. The ramifications of all of this were quite unbelievable.

He quickly rose to his feet and dashed out the door to assemble a search party to hunt down and stop Navarre from murdering Dominic du Barbaronne. The man he now knew was not only his firstborn – but his
only
son.