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Immortal Love

Page 2

by Victoria Craven


  “Thank you, Martha,” she said gratefully.

  The meal made her headache subside, and she was able to face her predicament. She tried to think of all the positive things this marriage would bring. McPhearson would no longer be a threat to her and her people. Godwin could well be restored to what it once was, and the people in the village would have a chance to heal.

  But her fear of noblemen, all noblemen, couldn’t be denied. Zenon was the only man she would let close. He was like a father to her. He had protected her when her own father had been too drunk to keep visiting predators away.

  “I’m so afraid my husband will be like my father.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Martha answered. “There are plenty of good men out there.”

  “It’s impossible for me to believe that.”

  The elderly woman sat next to Eleanor on the bed and pulled her close. “You will see my child, not all noblemen are evil.”

  “Outside of Zenon, I have seen no other.” She laid her head on Martha’s shoulder. “I’m not sure I can go through with this.”

  “Nonsense! You’re a loyal subject of the king, and no coward. I know you’ll do what’s best.”

  “But Martha, what if this man I marry is odious beyond belief? What about his reputation? We shall all be doomed.” Eleanor shuddered at the thought.

  “My girl, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. These are just rumors. Since when have you ever believed in rumors?” Martha gave Eleanor’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t give in to your fear. Steel your heart. It will keep you strong."

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Martha patted Eleanor’s hand. “That’s my girl. Come, let’s get started with your hair. You’ll want to make a good impression.”

  Eleanor allowed herself to be pulled onto a nearby stool, where Martha fussed over her. Unfortunately, her gowns showed their wear, but there was nothing to be done about it. They worked with what they had. Soon, she was ready to meet her bridegroom.

  Later as she descended the stairs, Eleanor’s resolve began to falter. Zenon waited at the bottom. On the last step he took her hand, squeezed it gently and gave her a reassuring smile.

  “You look splendid, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Zenon.” She held his hand in both of hers, drawing on her courage.

  She’d chosen an anteroom off the great hall as the place to meet the soon-to-be lord of Godwin Castle.

  Before he arrived she’d time to think. This was her fate. She wanted to believe what Martha said about all noblemen not being like her father or his friends, but there was little hope of that. Even the king himself was using her like a pawn in a game of chess.

  Her anger flared. Men. Life was only a game to them.

  Place your players strategically, she thought. It didn’t matter whose life was sacrificed. Power was all, and the one who took the queen won the game. To her way of thinking this Dominick the Immortal was just another player. She would be his pawn to move around as he pleased.

  The energy of her anger forced her out of her chair and onto her feet to pace the floor. She wouldn’t let it happen. A marriage may be forced on her, but she would never be anyone’s chess piece. Her will was her own, and it wouldn’t bend to any man.

  She had worked herself into a frenzy by the time Dominick’s arrival was announced. But her anger was quickly doused the moment Dominick entered.

  Shock ran through her when she looked up into his face. His eyes were black as coal, his hair darker than the night sky. The jogeuler’s words came to mind . . . He was cast out of the dark fires of hell.

  Looking at him, she could believe it.

  The legends of Dominick the Immortal had not exaggerated his size. He dwarfed most men. His shoulders were impossibly wide, his legs thick and strong. The fabric of his tunic strained against the muscles in his arms, and one blow of his fist would send her to her grave. Her knees felt like water.

  The giant stared at her for a moment before shaking his head slightly then bowing. “My lady, I’m Dominick Wolfingham,” he said in a deep and resonant voice.

  She pulled hard on her courage. “I . . . I’m Lady Eleanor of Godwin.”

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Despite her fear, Eleanor felt compelled to be honest. “I fear I cannot say the same, sir, for I don’t want this marriage.”

  She expected an angry response, but the warrior was calm, which made her wary.

  “Tell me why,” he said patiently.

  “I don’t like being a pawn in King William’s game, or in any man’s.” She pressed on. “By handing Godwin over to one of his soldiers, William seeks to stifle McPhearson’s aggression.”

  She knew she had gone too far by the subtle way Dominick stood straighter, crossing his arms in front of him. “So it’s a nobler husband you seek.”

  Undaunted by his intimidating pose, Eleanor stood closer. “I seek no man for my husband. There is none worthy of this castle.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It has been my experience to know this.” She looked into his dark eyes. For the instant of a heartbeat she hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Please, go back to the king and tell him the marriage won’t take place. I will not have it.”

  Tense silence stood between them, then Dominick moved toward her. She let out a yelp when his large hands spanned her waist as he lifted her to a nearby chair. Now they stood eye to eye.

  “Let me make this very clear to you.” His words were deliberate and slow. “Our king has decreed that we marry. To do otherwise would be an act of treason. Therefore, we will be married tomorrow, my lady, before noon. There will be no further discussion on this matter.”

  He stood close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. Fear knotted in the pit of her stomach when she looked into his. She expected him to strike her, and she braced herself for the blow, but he turned and walked out of the room. Relief swept through her. Jumping down from the chair, she quickly sat down. Heat began to rise in her face. She felt as though she had just confronted a thunderstorm and had barely gotten away before lightning struck.

  She cradled her head in her hands. His actions just then solidified her conviction. Men could not be reasoned with.

  Dominick’s anger burned steadily. The arrogant wench felt he wasn’t worthy of Godwin. Only a man of noble birth was qualified to own the castle and its lands. He found an elderly servant sweeping the rushes of the great hall.

  “I will have my things sent over from my camp.” Then he barked, “Make sure they are placed in the master’s chamber.”

  She bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord.”

  He saw the disappointment in her eyes and softened his tone. “Tell my men what it is you need for the evening meal. They will see it done.”

  “It will be taken care of, my lord.”

  Dominick stormed out of the great hall and over to where his horse stood waiting. Throwing his mantle over his shoulders, he mounted in one fluid motion.

  With a shout from his master, Aries bolted out of the stables.

  Dominick bent low over Aries’ neck, and rider and animal moved as one. As they rode along the shoreline, the wind and surf pelted Dominick’s face. Breathing its purity, peace washed over him, cleansing his spirit. When his anger was spent, he reined Aries to a stop and watched the sunlight dance on the water. The soft wind calmed his heart.

  He dismounted and sat on the sun-warmed sand. The spring breeze still carried some remnants of winter, so Dominick wrapped his mantle around himself and watched the tide.

  The first thing that had struck him about Eleanor was her beauty. Her eyes were as green as jade. Her sun-colored hair shimmered like Egyptian silk. His body’s reaction to her had been instantaneous.

  Then she had opened her mouth.

  Expecting her to be happy about their marriage had never crossed his mind, but for her to be so adamant about not wanting their union and actually considering that t
hey should deny the King’s wishes was unthinkable.

  His breath had caught in his throat the moment he saw her, and he hadn’t been able to believe his good fortune. Until he’d looked into her eyes and seen pure hatred.

  He understood her resentment at being forced to marry, but there was something much deeper. Something more than resentment. He saw fear. What or who had instilled such emotion? What prank had fate played on him? Could Godwin ever be a home as long as its lady harbored animosity toward him?

  The screech of a hawk circling above drew his attention, and it wasn’t long before his friend, Erik, led his horse down the rocky path to the sandy beach. When he whistled the bird flew to his arm, and he settled her on the pommel of his saddle.

  “Was she horrible?”

  Dominick chuckled. “No, she wasn’t horrible. Actually she’s quite beautiful.”

  “Then what drives you to ride like a madman?”

  “She doesn’t want to marry.”

  Erik stared at Dominick a moment, his amber eyes filled with wisdom that belied his youth. He shook his head and grabbed a few stones to skip across the water. “Neither did you, and you knew there was a possibility the lady might not take kindly to marrying a stranger.” He threw another stone.

  “It was more than that, Erik. She said I wasn’t worthy of the castle because I’m not a nobleman.”

  Another stone went into the water. But you are a nobleman.”

  “I’m the bastard son of a nobleman and a queen’s lady-in-waiting.” Dominick threw his own stone toward the surf.

  “I’ve never known this to bother you before. In all circles you’re accepted. You’re a friend to the king.”

  “Somehow it mattered this time. I’m a man with no inheritance. What I’m about to receive with this marriage in some way makes me feel like a thief or parasite, sucking off the misery of others.”

  “As a friend who has fought at your side for many years, I know you have earned this land, Dominick. Don’t let this woman make you forget what you’ve accomplished—with very little help—in a lifetime.” Erik said. “Remember, she could be worse off. She could be married to McPhearson, and from what I’ve heard of his deviant behavior she wouldn’t survive a fortnight.”

  Dominick threw another stone, as though throwing away his doubts. “Thank you. I just needed a different perspective. If anything, Lady Eleanor needs my protection. I plan to give her that protection whether she wants it or not.”

  “She may not be aware of it now, but will be grateful when she realizes her other choices are bleak.” Erik whistled, and his hawk flew to his gloved hand.

  A moment of quiet settled between the men as they stared out at the ocean. Then Dominick reached over to stroke the downy breast feathers of Erik’s hawk. “No one can hide from you as long as you have Celeste here. Not even me.”

  “It wasn’t Celeste that found you. Aries called to me when he felt your distress.”

  Dominick raised an eyebrow. “So the animals are able to reach your mind now?”

  “Only when I’m open to them. I was open to Celeste when Aries called. My mind stayed with him until I found you.”

  Dominick looked back out over the water. As long as he’d known Erik, he'd accepted his friend’s ability to communicate with animals. Many men shunned Erik, claiming his power came from dark magic, but Dominick knew him as a good man. He defended the weak, was compassionate to the poor, and was a loyal friend.

  Erik had never hid the fact that he could understand animals. Dominick suspected it was a way of keeping people at a distance. If they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. It was Erik’s own way of protecting himself.

  The sun was beginning to set when they headed back toward Godwin. Inside the great hall tables were being set with food, yet there was no sign of Eleanor. Dominick expected as much. He knew she needed time to adjust to the idea of marriage. Patience was all she needed.

  Chapter Three

  Voices and music drifted to Eleanor’s room from the great hall. It was only a matter of time before the wine and ale flowed and things turned ugly, like they had so many times before when her father was alive.

  Gathering her eating dagger, she hid it deep within her pocket. If his lordship should try to force his husband’s rights on her before the wedding ceremony, she would prove just how mortal Dominick the Immortal was.

  She lay down on her bed, listening to the revelry below. Memories of her mother came to the surface, and the pain of those memories washed over her in a wave.

  As a child she had watched from the very top step of the great hall stairs. No one could see her as she peered down at the festivities below.

  Her father had showed her mother very little kindness except when he was drinking. Then his hands roamed lasciviously over her body. When her mother resisted his drunken display, he shouted obscenities at her, calling her a whore.

  Often in front of his men and guests, he declared her frigid and useless. Her mother’s ultimate humiliation had come when he took serving wenches to their bed.

  Eleanor had observed the drama night after night. Over time, her mother became more and more despondent. Isolde’s once beautiful figure turned gaunt. Dark shadows circled her pale green eyes and the rims showed red and swollen from hours of crying. She walked around the castle like a ghost, haunting its halls. Then one day, the crying stopped, and her mother was gone.

  Tears streamed down Eleanor’s face. The more she tried to pull away from the memories, the more they pulled her back. The pain of losing her mother welled in her chest, until she thought she could bear no more. Mercifully, sleep defeated her misery.

  Until the nightmares began . . .

  . . . She ran along the cliffs as the cold wind swirled around her. The surf rose up over the cliffs, threatening to engulf her and dash her body among the rocks. Something was chasing her. Something horrible. Icy fear gripped her heart.

  Like a stone tower, the giant’s shadow loomed over her. She tried to run away, but her legs would barely move. Arms snaked around her, capturing her in a vice-like grip. His face was hidden in the shadows. When he spoke, his fiery breath blasted a suffocating heat.

  “There is no escape for you, Eleanor,” he said in a loud, demonic hiss. “Bend to my will.”

  “This I will never do!”

  Enraged, the demon shoved her to the cliff’s edge. She fell to the ground with a bone-jarring thump, and fear took away her ability to breathe as the monster emerged from the shadows.

  To reveal her betrothed’s face.

  Claw-like hands pulled her off the ground. “If you will not give in to me, then you will die.”

  With one swift motion, the monster tossed Eleanor over the edge and into the sea . . .

  The sensation of falling made her slam her hands against the mattress as if to still her descent. She bolted upright, a horrified scream in her throat and terror still clutching at her heart, squeezing her chest tight.

  It took several moments for her to catch her breath.

  Still captured in the fear of her too real dream, her mind kept recalling Dominick’s menacing face as he’d appeared at their first meeting.

  Her people and she could no longer live in fear. She had to go to the Queen Mother and have this marriage order rescinded. Quickly, she threw off the fur robes and jumped out of bed even as her frantic mind scanned the room for her travel bag. Dawn was breaking, and she was sure no one would see her leave.

  She piled her few meager gowns, and her mother’s hairbrush and comb into a bag and silently left the room.

  In the kitchen she packed bread and cheese for the trip. She wasn’t sure how long she would be gone, but she didn’t see herself coming back any time soon. Finally packed, she slipped quietly out of the castle.

  The cold hand of death invaded Dominick’s sleep, and he woke to see a wisp of a woman standing over him, green eyes glowing in the darkness. She wasn’t part of the living world. Like so many, her soul was trapped between the liv
ing and the dead in a place where souls are lost.

  He hadn’t seen an apparition since he had been in the prisons of Istanbul. Too much death and too many souls trapped by their own longing to be part of the living had forced him to close his mind to them. Yet this spirit had torn through the dark curtain he had built to keep the spirit world away.

  She gave him no time for questions. Eleanor has run away.

  Then the apparition faded.

  Dominick was out of bed in an instant and calling for his squire. “Summon the men.”

  The sun was beginning to rise. Quickly he dressed and ran to the great hall.

  In just minutes, Randolf and Erik, donning their swords and mantles, met him there.

  “What’s happened?” Randolf asked.

  “Eleanor. She’s run away. McPhearson may have some of his men still lurking in the forest.

  “How would you know this?” Erik asked.

  “Trust me, I know.” He turned to one of his men that hadn’t mounted yet. “Bring the girl’s maid. We may have need of her.”

  No further words were spoken as the three men strode out into the bailey. The rest of Dominick’s soldiers were already mounted.

  Anger brewed inside him. His first thought was for Eleanor’s carelessness with her own life. Obviously she did not think that McPhearson’s men could be lingering in the woods. Then he thought of her blatant disregard of the king’s order. Despite how she felt about the circumstances of Dominick’s birth, there was no excuse for treason.

  As he mounted, he watched Erik stroking his hawk’s feathers, mentally connecting with Celeste. When the bond was complete, Erik’s eyes dilated. With a whistle, he sent the hawk into the air and mounted his own horse.

  Dominick, Randolf and Erik led the charge out of the bailey. Before long, Celeste screeched out a call from high above, and Erik signaled the army to stop.

  “She’s crossing the meadow to the west. Five of McPhearson’s men are hiding in the woods, just on the other side, waiting for her.”

  Cold fury surged within Dominick. Eleanor’s mistake was in thinking he could be trifled with. His enemy, McPhearson, seriously misjudged him.

 

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