When Lightning Strikes (28 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Navarre’s arm was paining him quite badly as he rode with his men in the direction of du Barbaronne’s last known camp. No doubt they had moved on from there by now but by going to the locale he would be able to discern which way they had gone.

They arrived at the camp - or what remained of it after what seemed like an eternity. The few hours that it had taken to arrive here had only served to fuel his fire. As a matter of fact, he was becoming a bit unnerved because he felt heat radiating from the wound in his arm and yet he felt cold all over. He could tell that a fever was setting in and he wondered if perhaps he should have cleaned his wound and bound it much better before he left. He would simply have to deal with it when he was finished hunting down his enemy.

Two of the men surveyed the area scanning for signs of where they had gone but the damnable vagabonds seemed to have been much
more clever than he anticipated. Not only was it difficult to see in the dim light of the moon with naught but their meager torches, but they had made many false starts in several different directions to cover their trail. This was going to be much more difficult than he had thought. No matter. It would not stop him and all the sweeter would be his reward when he finally caught them.

“Should we head out in different directions, milord?” asked one of the men.

Navarre sighed, narrowing his eyes. “No. If we do that there will be only a few men in each party – not enough to overtake the lot of them should one group find them. If we stay together we have enough weapons and sword skill among us to take them down even if they have twenty men. The women will be of no importance.” He smiled. “No – as a matter of fact we shall take them with us. I am quite certain they will provide us with ample entertainment during our trip and long after we are home should we decide to keep them as servants.”

The men nodded and smiled with him. They had seen some of the gypsien women on occasion. Beautiful indeed – with
their mocha skin, dark almond shaped eyes and scanty dress.

Navarre scanned the area one last time before deciding to head east. As the group assembled he noticed the glint of an object several yards in the other direction.

“Stay,” he ordered them.

He rode his horse over to
he site and dismounted quickly picking up a small golden earring. He looked ahead and saw marks similar to all the others that headed out in every direction but something seemed a bit different. These were a bit deeper. He had a gut feeling and he was going to go with it.

“I have changed my mind. We are heading north. If I am correct, they will be seeking refuge in Normandy and we have quite a ride to catch them before they can make it to the border.”

He motioned them toward where he stood and mounted back up.

“The devil will be more merciful than I when I find you, gypsy,” he muttered under his breath as they rode off leaving clouds of billowing dust behind them.

Thomas had assembled a large assembly of his own men down in the courtyard – giving them a briefing of the situation and their instructions. When Thomas informed them of the information he had read in Marie’s diary regarding the fact that he had indeed discovered that Navarre was not his son, their faces took on a look of disbelief and then settled into a look of knowingness. Most of these men had seen the evil streak in Navarre long ago and dared not speak of it to their lord.

Thomas spoke again. “We will ride toward the last known location of the camp of the gypsies. Navarre informed me before he left that it was the first place they would be going. We must find them at all costs. If possible – we shall avoid confrontation. I have no desire to wound any of my own men who have not been informed of the truth of the situation. But we cannot allow Navarre to escape and he must be stopped before he can accomplish his mission of murdering my
son
.”

He mounted his black steed as one of the servants
handed him a torch.

Margery stepped forward.
“Godspeed to ya, milord. I pray that ye find them. I have grown fond of the girl Sarah in the few hours that I got ta know her. She is so like me own Melissande in many ways.”

Thomas nodded. “We will find them and true justice will be duly served, Margery.”

She nodded back as Reginald opened the gate and the party rode out into the night.

It was now well past the middle of the night and dawn would arrive within a few hours providing them with light to track both the gypsies and Navarre’s soldiers. Thomas was weary, but his determination to save his son drove him on.

His thoughts drifted as they rode. How had things come to this? And how was this going to affect the rest of their lives? He knew for certain he could not continue his union with Marie. She had betrayed him more so even than he had betrayed her when he began his liaison with Mara and then conceived a bastard. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would have turned out had he devoted more time and effort to making Marie happy. And yet, had he not done so?

He had worked diligently to gain her love and acceptance after they were wed but despite his never-ending shows of affection, avowals of love and loyalty, she still looked upon him with disdain almost from the day they were wed. He was never able to understand. He was not an ugly man in his youth – quite the opposite. He was a skilled swordsman. He worked in the king’s service. He had a hefty estate and coffers to match. He offered her his love, his body and his loyalty. And yet, it was never enough. Together their union should have been a profitable one for both as had been seen fit by their families at the time of their betrothal. But it was not to be.

After reading the diary, he was quite certain she had been giving herself to Jonathan almost from the time they had wed. Her pious attitudes had only been a ruse for her own misdeeds. Misdeeds which included the lack of affection that drove him to the arms of another.

No – he was not going to blame himself overmuch for all of this. The only thing he would never stop blaming himself for was that he had abandoned Mara and Dominic.

The questions still remained unanswered as well whether Navarre knew of his origins. Somehow, he suspected that he did. Why else would he hold such utter and complete contempt for Dominic even during all the years that Dominic never showed his face nor caused one whit of trouble for any of them? The murderous rage Navarre carried within his heart for his half-brother could only have come about because he knew that if the knowledge that he – not Dominic, was the bastard, he would be ruined and so would his mother. Especially after her long campaign to gain sympathy from her family, from his own family and as many of the servants and commoners as possible to make him look contemptible in some way to his people.

She had long portrayed him as the typical womanizing male driven by his animal instinct, and herself as the beautiful, ever-faithful wife, betrothed and given her hefty fortune to a man who would shun her despite her never-ending efforts to please him in every way. Hah!
Were it only true that she were all those things! He would never have strayed from her.

And yet he was not sorry that he had known and deeply loved Mara with her dark eyes, love of life and her intelligence.  And then there was their son.  If only he had gotten to know him much better over the years and accepted him and helped to make his existence easier, perhaps things would have been different.

Now Thomas knew he had a lifetime of sorrow and ‘what if’s’ to make up for. He hoped that somehow, Dominic would accept his advances at making up for lost time. He doubted it, but he was willing to work at it to earn the trust and perhaps in time, the love of his son.

At last they arrived at the campsite and it was no surprise that it was deserted by both the gypsies and by Navarre’s men – whom he was quite
certain would have already been here and departed. Scanning the area, they were able to make out the tracks headed north in the dim pre-dawn light. Normandy no doubt, was where they were headed.

“We shall rest the horses for a few short moments and then move on. We have no time to lose of course.” Thomas dismounted and paced around the area scanning for any other signs they may have missed.

Seeing none he quickly poured some water into a shallow metal container and gave his horse a drink. Not nearly enough but it would have to do for now as they must keep moving.

He mounted back up and motioned for any of the men who were stretching their legs to do the same. Without a word they began riding north and as the time passed, Thomas’s thoughts and unanswered questions were replaced by a quiet resolve and a heartfelt prayer.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“So, ami, you have yet to tell me of how you knew our fine and lovely companion was not Navarre’s wife…with such certainty that you made her your own.” Marco raised an eyebrow at his friend. He managed his usual smile despite his fatigue.

“Perhaps now is not the time, Marco.” Dominic sighed. He was weary and he was in no mood to discuss the matter now. He had been up for two straight days, had eaten scarcely at all, and they were running for their very lives for the crime of taking back his own wife from an insane man!

He sighed. “We shall discuss it later.”

He looked over at Sarah. She looked like she was about to collapse on the back of her horse. She was not used to this kind of life at all – much less going without sleep and food and trekking for miles and miles in the middle of the night. And after spending a good portion of yesterday riding with Navarre and the entirety of the evening trying to escape him, she was no doubt even more fatigued than all of them put together.

“We will ride for a bit longer and then we must break for a short moment. I am going to put Sarah in my wagon.”

Marco nodded and they continued in silence.

Dominic looked over at his friend sitting there and a second later and broke out laughing. Here they sat….a band of Romanys…the essence of laughter, music and love of life itself riding in silence like a bunch of fat, solemn, nobles! He shook his head and rubbed his tired blue eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Well then, what do you want to know? Where shall I start?” Dominic smiled and looked Marco out of the corner of his eye.

Marco laughed. “You speak, do you? I knew you would.” He shook his head. “What humor is there in this fine mess?”

“We look like a bunch of pompous, fat-assed, pouting nobles sitting here, instead of the Romany we are.”

Marco raised a brow and looked around him. “Yes, ami. I would say we do. So, then…idiot, get on with your tale of who she is. Of course, were you not wed to her, I would ask for more intimate details as you know…but….” His words trailed off and he flinched at the look he knew Dominic would give him at that even before it came. He could not resist goading his friend, however. Marco shrugged and laughed. “I had to try.”

“Yes, you always do. You need a good thrashing,” Dominic chuckled.

“Oui…but not from your ugly ass. Gilda maybe, but not you. Now – get on with it.” Marco urged him.

“Alright then.”

Dominic proceeded to tell Marco the whole story of her feigning amnesia out of fear and of her traveling across time to this place to meet him.

Marco stared at him in disbelief. “You are trying to tell me that this is sorcery? You yourself have said you do not believe in witches. We are Romany! We know magic is naught but
leger de main
– sleight of the hand! Although for some – such as my mama, I suppose such things are not impossible to accept.”

“Oui.
But this was not witchcraft. She had the galbi.
My
galbi. And she now wears it about her neck as proof of our hand-fasting.”

“The galbi you gave to the village woman? That is of no consequence. Perhaps she came upon it through exchange of coin for food or supplies. The child’s mother no doubt used it for food and clothing in the village and it could have changed hands many times.”

Dominic paused. Marco was right. But that made no sense either. She had no clothing on her back, nothing to eat and no wares to save her own body when he found her. How would she have come across the coin through trade? It simply could not be. Mara’s words still rang true.

“No, Marco. There is no way that she could have come across the coin through barter. She had no goods, nothing but the burned clothes on her back when I found her…and no wares to sell save herself…and that she did not do. Not that it is of your concern but she was indeed untouched by another when I wed
her.”

Marco smiled very wolfishly at that one. “Is that so? I bet she was quite…never mind.”  Dominic shot him a warning glare before continuing.

“Mara’s words have come to pass. She told me that if I could not open my heart to love then I was no better than Navarre. And as I have told you so many times before, she also foresaw that an act of kindness would bring me the love I had so long pushed away. And it has.”

Marco nodded. This was difficult to believe to say the least. Travel across time? How could it be possible? It just seemed too unreal to imagine that someone could come from a place centuries from now. And yet she was indeed real. He looked over at Sarah riding along – dozing with her head slumped forward.

Dominic spoke again. “I think it is time to stop for a few moments.” He turned raised one hand high above his head to alert the few riders behind them and rode back toward the three wagons.

“We must stop. Sarah has had no sleep for two days and I fear she will fall from her mount. She is not used to this kind of life as we are.”

He looked at the questioning eyes of his troupe. He was in a difficult position. Granted they had accepted her a few hours ago, but without any further explanation, they could easily turn against her again.

“I know you still have many questions. I swear to you that you will have your answers when we are to safety.”

They looked to each other and back to Dominic and nodded. Very slowly everyone came to a stop and Dominic dismounted stretching his aching legs and back.

“I suggest that we all walk away our aches and pains and rest for a short time.”

Marco and the others dismounted as Dominic walked over to Sarah’s horse. She had opened her eyes when the horse stopped looking slightly disoriented. The first rays of light were beginning to appear on the horizon.

“How long have I been sleeping? Not that you could really call it sleep,” she said hoarsely.

Dominic smiled as he helped her down. “Not long. Are you oh-kay?” He kissed her forehead and pulled her close to him.

Sarah nodded. “Where are we?”

“We have not reached the border yet…but you need to sleep. You will ride in my wagon. It is empty. The men are riding on horseback and walking to keep watch.”

She gave him a look of protest. “Me need rest? What about you? You’ve been up and running as long as I have…longer in fact. At least I had a little nap on the horse.”

He nodded. “Yes, but I am stronger than you by nature.”

They headed towards his wagon, which was the first in the procession. He stroked the necks of the two horses that pulled it. He owned four in all – two that had been given him by his stepfather Peer, one of his own and one that had been Mara’s. These two were fine, strong creatures – ever faithful and he always used them to pull the wagon when needed.

He pulled back the canvas and boosted Sarah up over the side following her in. He unrolled the blankets packed in one corner. She recognized them from earlier when she had slept here when he found her.

He quickly made her a pallet and although she wanted to protest lying down to sleep, her treacherous body betrayed her and she lay down without argument. He stretched out beside her, kissing her as he did.

“What are you doing?” She smiled. “You need to get out of here. The others will wonder why you are taking so long. And we can’t afford to lose any time.”

“You are right…and I am a rogue!” He smiled right back at her.

“Well then, move. Get out!”

He laughed. “Ah, I see, cherie. We have been married but a day and already you have taken over my own home and you chase me from it! You win…for now. But believe me, I shall return. I will not be gotten rid of so easily.”

He popped a kiss on the end of her nose before he sat up. He stretched and started to part the canvas to go when she stopped him.

“Dominic?”

He turned to her.

“Promise me you’ll be really careful. They are looking for us by now…that is unless your father read the book.”

His brows knit together. “Book? What book do you speak of?”

She looked down. Maybe this wasn’t the time. “I wasn’t going to tell you right away. I thought maybe it was best to wait until we reached safety.” She paused, sighing heavily. “Maybe it still is.”

“No. You must tell me of this book now. Of what do you speak?”

She took a deep breath. “Well, before I escaped I entered this secret passageway that led down to the dungeon room from Navarre’s chamber. In the wall there I found this little book. It was a diary written by Navarre’s mother, Marie.”

“And what did it say? I assume you can read….amid all the other wonders of your time.”

“Yes. Dominic maybe you’d better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what you read and why would it stop them from coming for us?”

“Well for one thing…I mean the first thing would be that Margery knows that I am not Melissande. She
knows
! She will tell your father, believe me. She knows as well that Navarre killed the real Melissande and was using me to cover this fact. She swore to me that she and Reginald would see to it that your father knows of this.”

His face remained like stone.
So. That would explain one reason Navarre was so hell-bound on stealing Sarah away! It was not just to get at him…although that was good enough reason for a snake like he.  Somehow he knew there was more.

“That does not surprise me. I have told you what sort of man he is. How did you find this out? Does Marie know as well? Did she write this in some book?”

“No. Navarre sort of confessed it when he had me pinned to the bed.”  Her face turned crimson. The last thing she needed to do right now was to anger him and get him all riled up. She had already told him that she had escaped without being raped. Now she was sure he wouldn’t believe her when she saw the look that crossed his face and the color that flushed his dark skin.

She stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen to me! Nothing happened! I got away before he was able to do anything. You have to believe me, Dominic.”

He stared at her long and hard in silence before he finally spoke. “How do I know that you do not lie for fear that I will go after him which you know I will, no matter whether he raped you or not.”

“You are going to have to trust me. How can we be married if you won’t trust me?”

He stepped back from her sighing heavily as he pulled his damp hair back from his face and sat down hard on the floor of the wagon.

“Precisely.
You must trust me as well! I will not be killed by that dog while avenging you!”

“There is nothing to avenge, you idiot!
Arrrh!” She sat down next to him huffing out her exasperation.

“So then.
Navarre murdered his wife. And he was using you to dupe his family. Is this what was written in the book?”

She paused. “Well, no. What I just told you wasn’t in the book….I mean about Margery knowing I’m not Melissande and Navarre knowing it too. But what I’m about to tell you is. Dominic, Navarre is not your brother. He is of no relation to you at all in fact.”

His face took on a look of disbelief. “What?”

“It’s true. Marie had an affair and she conceived Navarre and convinced your father that the baby was his. It is all written there. I saw it with my own eyes…at least what I was able to read of it.”

He sat in stunned silence. Navarre was not Thomas’s son? That meant….

Her words said aloud what his thoughts had already
screamed in his mind.

“Dominic, you are Thomas’s firstborn and
only
son. That is the reason Navarre hates you with such an unrelenting passion. It’s not because of me or because Thomas fell in love with your mother. It is because he
knows
who you are. Marie knows it as well. That is why she made such a huge commotion over a simple affair. I mean, no offense to your mother or anything. I know Thomas loved her very much. But a noble taking a peasant or a serf to bed is pretty commonplace in this time. It’s not something that most people or most wealthy wives make a big deal over like she did.” She groaned inwardly. She hoped her words didn’t offend him.

His features were unmoving as she spoke.

“I am not his son. He deserted Mara and he deserted me and left us to live out our days ever on the move and in poverty.” He spat out the words with bitterness. “I hated every second being in his keep when I came after you, Sarah. I only stood it because I would walk through the very fires of hell to get to you.”

Sarah moved closer to him. “I understand how you feel. But I also know that when your father finds out, he will stop Navarre. He has to.”

“Nothing will stop Navarre, believe me. Not Thomas de Lyonne, nor the devil himself. If he has a mind to kill me – he will come and try, if for no other reason than he has been exposed and needs someone to slake his murderous intentions on before he is hunted down himself.”

Sarah looked a bit uneasy. She hadn’t thought about this. Dominic was right. Thomas no doubt would do whatever he could to stop Navarre. But what if Navarre had somehow gotten out of there before Thomas got the diary – if he got it at all? Or he had escaped Thomas even if he did get the book?