She nodded and closed her eyes. He tugged her closer and she leaned against him, taking in his strength, his power, his love.
“Ma chère, rest a while here. No one needs us.”
Isabel found she did not have the desire to move away from him. Exhaustion claimed her and she allowed herself to fall asleep next to him, knowing that he would protect her from the terrors that lurked in her dreams.
He would always protect her.
Chapter Fourteen
“A bad one is brewing,” Rosamunde, wife of Sir Gautier, commented. “When my fingers ache like this, the storm will be memorable.”
Isabel opened her eyes and looked around her in the solar. She had been working on Lady Margaret’s tapestry until the need to close her eyes had grown too strong to ignore. She needed rest, but it would not come to her. There was only one way to sleep and after the words and kiss they had shared in the church, she and Royce avoided such private times.
“The last time you complained about your fingers, the storm lasted over a sennight. Pray, do not be right this time,” Jehane added.
The rest of the women in attendance in the solar laughed, but it was tinged with some soberness at the danger of such storms. “Edlyn, see if my lord has returned yet from his business with the brothers at Holme Cultram. I hope that he arrives before the storm does.”
Isabel watched as her maid left to seek out what the lady had asked. Lord Orrick owned the rights to mine sea salt in this area and Henry had gifted the brothers at Holme Cultram with a share in those rights. It provided much income and was Orrick’s responsibility to oversee. He spent several days a month over in Abbeytown meeting with the brother prior and was due back from just such a trip that afternoon.
“Isabel?” Lady Margaret called to her. She smiled back.
“Why do you not go and rest for a short while? You have been dozing off for the past hour and your bed would be more comfortable than that chair.”
She had considered doing just that except that she had been troubled by scenes from her attack again and feared what she would see in her dreams if she allowed herself to go fully asleep. “Thank you for your concern, my lady, but I am well.”
The chamber quieted as they all awaited a response from the lady, since she was known for her short temper lately. Isabel realized what she had done and looked at Lady Margaret.
“I mean not to disobey you, my lady, but sleep offers me no relief from the exhaustion that plagues me or from the terrors that follow me into my dreams. I am at a loss about what to do.”
Lady Margaret stood and walked to her side. Lifting her hand, she stroked Isabel’s cheek. “And none of Wenda’s concoctions have helped you?”
“Nay, my lady. They do seem to put me to sleep, but nothing keeps me asleep when the nightmares come.”
“And they come more frequently?”
“Aye. And they are stronger, as well,” Isabel added.
“The only thing that helps me when I have bad dreams is my Gautier,” Lady Rosamunde said. “He wraps himself around me and I forget about those dreams in but a moment or two.”
The ladies laughed at the bawdy comment, for none of them missed it. Isabel smiled at the attempt to lighten the subject. She turned back to Lady Margaret but stopped when she saw the frown on the lady’s face.
“A moment of privacy, if you please?” It took no time at all before Isabel was alone with Lady Margaret. The lady sat back down and looked at her intensely before speaking.
“I think mayhap I was wrong to try to force Royce to express his feelings for you. My judgment has not been sound of late and I beg your forgiveness for causing this rift between you.”
Expecting some suggestions about her sleeping problem, Lady Margaret’s words surprised her. But more than the admission of her behavior, her belief that Royce cared for her sent Isabel’s heart reeling. And just as quickly she remembered Royce’s own words—no matter what your life was before, I cannot make you part of mine now.
“My lady, you caused no rift between us.” At Margaret’s disbelieving look, she continued, “Royce and I have simply come to understand that with my situation and his, there is no chance of a future together. We have accepted this and remain on good terms.” Did she sound even half-convinced of this as she spoke the words? She waited for the lady to proclaim her a liar.
“I understand you not being able to make a commitment because you know not if you already have taken vows, but I do not claim to know his reasons. In the three years since he arrived, we have spoken more in this last week than ever before.”
“I know little of him, as well. Has he always lived alone?”
“Yes. He gained the promise of his own cottage from my husband early on. It was strange to us, but the least we could do for the man who nearly lost his life protecting my lord’s.”
Her words explained some of the scars on Royce’s back. He was an enigma. Hiding from some secret yet living as honorable a life as she could imagine. Who was he?
“And for saving my Orrick, I will be in his debt forever,” Lady Margaret said. “I did not plan to meddle even more into his affairs by broaching this with you, Isabel. I seek but to help you both at this confusing time you are in.”
The concern shown by Lady Margaret all through her stay here, and now this, touched her deeply. She was not certain anyone had ever cared about her in this way.
Except my sister.
The vision of that pale-haired girl, dancing with her on the beach, returned and Isabel waited to hear a name. All she saw was the joy in their faces and then the joining of hands in a pledge.
“I know, and I cannot tell you how I appreciate all you have done. Taking in a complete stranger, providing for my health and comfort and trying to help me recover my memory are more than anyone would have expected.”
Lady Margaret patted Isabel’s hand. “’Twas Royce all along. He was and has been your champion here.”
“Royce? But I thought he was trying to get rid of me?”
“Rid of you? Oh no, my dear. He convinced Orrick to let you stay with him even after Wenda said you were well enough to be moved. Royce argued that it might not be safe, until you were strong enough to face the challenge of living here with no memory to guide you. And now I am unsure if we gave you time enough.”
“I think that these dreams and the headaches are signs that my memory struggles to return.”
“I will pray that you regain your memories so that these fears and pains resolve for you.” The lady stood and looked out the window. The wind was getting stronger and the sky filled with dark and churning clouds.
“Isabel, one more thing before I seek word of Orrick’s return. I did not place our knights in your path only in order for you to consider marriage with any of them. If you noticed, each is of a different coloring and temperament. I thought one or more might be familiar to you—in the tone of their voices, the color of their eyes or their disposition.”
“So you have many purposes for your plans, my lady?”
“That makes me sound so scheming, Isabel. I do not know if I like that or not. Mayhap when I was younger and more foolish, but not now that I am older and wiser.”
They laughed and then Margaret called to her servant outside the door. Jehane entered and gave them word of Orrick’s return to the keep.
“Go and try to rest for now. I will send Edlyn to watch over you.”
Whether it was the gloom of the impending storm or just her own dark mood, Isabel decided to retire to her chambers, not to sleep but simply to rest her eyes and try to get rid of the nagging pain in her head.
The bile forced its way up and out and she turned to vomit on the ground. It only made her head worse. They were closer now and she would not survive if she passed out again. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed whatever was near to help her stand.
Where was she?
This was not the way they had come and she knew only that they approached the sea. The smell of the marshes was growing stronger. The cru
nching of the tall grass behind was the only warning she got before they were on her again.
She screamed when he struck her with the club, but it did no good. Instead it drew the rest of them faster. Too late. Too late for her to escape. With her blood streaming down into her eyes and the swampy ground pulling at her, she knew she would die.
The pain of their attack poured over her until she fell back into the water. Even her sister’s words could not save her now. But she did not want to die. She let herself sink below the surface of the water until they turned their attentions elsewhere.
Come, he said, my brother will give us better sport than this. Thinking her dead, they would kill him now. The wound from the sword was not a killing one. She saw him fall from his horse onto the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his gut, but he was not dead.
Yet.
He would be now, for they had to make certain he was dead.
They would kill him now. Kill him.
She barely made it to the basin before vomiting again. Spirals of pain and terror quaked through her. She was not their only target. They needed to kill him. Kill who? Another wave of nausea and her stomach heaved as she watched him sliced by the sword. Who was he? She rolled to her side on the cold stone floor and tried to think. The memories took hold of her again.
She could not aid him or they would kill her. He was dead, mayhap not now, but no one could live after a destructive blade slash to his gut. No one. She must save herself.
Gaining her feet, she struggled against the pain in her head and her leg. She must get away. She must find…she must find…
Royce. He promised to protect her. She needed to get to him now. He would help her. He had promised.
Isabel limped down the corridor and down the stairs to the second floor. She had not visited his chambers, but she knew where they were. The keep was deserted, as most of those who lived there were preparing for the approaching storm. She ran to his room and pushed open the door.
The young boy named Cadby sat on the floor, tugging a piece of cloth out of a dog’s mouth. He got to his feet when she called out for Royce, pushing the dog aside.
“This is Royce’s dog.”
“Aye, mistress. He said I should play with him and feed him and walk him, too. ’Tis my job.”
Even in her hysterical mood, she could hear the pride in the boy’s voice at being given such responsibility. “I must find Royce. Do you know where he is?”
“He said he needed to close up his cottage in the forest. He told me to stay here and await his return.”
Isabel turned to leave then realized she did not know where the croft was. They had come to Silloth Keep on a different road, one from the direction of Abbeytown and Thursby.
“Do you know where the cottage is? I must go there now.”
“But mistress, the storm is coming.”
“I know, but I have to go there now, before the storm begins.”
Cadby did not look as if he believed her or agreed with her plan. The dog finally recognized her and began to bark and jump at her, pawing her skirts and whining the way he usually did.
“Does he know the way? Can he lead me there?”
Part of her urged her to calm down and wait for Royce’s return. But a wave of pain brought back the memories. She moaned against them, but they did not cease.
“There has been a change to our plans, brother.”
He did not see the sword being taken from its scabbard due to the way his brother turned his body and hid most of his movements. The moon shaded itself behind the thickening clouds as she watched the deceit unfold before her. She tried to scream but nothing would come out.
In the shadows she saw the sword pierce his stomach and come out through his back. It could not be real. It could not. His brother would not attack him. But she watched as he clutched his side and caught up his own blood in his gloved hands.
“Brother?”
’Twas when he looked in her direction that the others seemed to remember her. One grabbed the reins of her horse and the closest knocked her to the ground. Landing hard, she lost her breath.
His body came to rest next to her on the ground and he whispered words to her that she could not hear for her ears rang inside. Hatred poured from his eyes and she realized she was the real target. He had wanted her dead and now was dying instead. Not instead, in addition to.
She must run or die. Now!
Jumping to her feet, she ran into the grass on the side of the road. It would be difficult to find her there. She never saw the club as he swung it from behind her. She only heard the sound of the bones in her leg cracking and felt the anguish as she fell.
“I have to find him now. Have you a rope to leash him with?”
Cadby looked as though he would refuse, but grabbed a length of rope from the bed and tied it around the dog’s neck. “I will come with you, mistress. You might need help.”
Even as he said the words, she knew she should heed them. But overpowered by the memories and the terror, she needed only Royce. She had to find him. He could save her. He had saved her.
“Nay. Nay!” she said, tugging on the rope. “You must stay here.”
Waves of pain pulsed in her leg again as she remembered the agony of the injury. She knew the dagger was coming and knew only Royce could stop this. Limping and running as she could, she did not heed the calls for her to stop. She pushed her way through the crowd at the gate as those in the courtyard tried to leave the keep and make it to their homes in the village before the rains.
The wind tore at her headpiece and her clothes as she ran, and it howled as it moved with them down the hill from the keep, through the village paths and into the forest. Then she loosened her hold on the dog and urged him on to find his home. Not bothering to look at where they went, she trusted the mutt to find his owner.
Some turns of the path looked familiar to her, but it was too late. The skies of green and gray opened and dumped torrents of rain out. Lightning cut slashes in the clouds and she covered her ears against the roar of the thunder. She lost hold of the dog and he ran off faster that she could follow. She saw the rope trailing behind him as he darted through the bushes.
Her leg and stomach cramped and she fell, landing in a rut in the dirt path. Trying to breathe, she heard the insistent barking of the dog. He ran back to her, sniffed, barked and ran away again. She gained her feet and listened for the sounds of his barking. Stumbling in that direction, she watched in horror as lightning struck a tree next to the path. She screamed for Royce.
Frozen by fear and unable to move, she stared as a large branch above her came tearing off the trunk of the tree. Was this how she would die? Just moments before it struck her, she was pushed out of the way and into the bushes. The dog had come back and now barked even louder at her. Unable to breathe, she turned to the side and vomited again.
Forced to the ground by the power of their blows, she felt every fist as it pummeled her. She tried to push them away, but they surrounded her. They toyed with her; she knew this was not their worst. As if they’d heard her thoughts, the leader who’d stood back through most of the attack, walked closer and drew out his dagger. As the moon came out from its hiding place, the dagger glinted in its rays and she knew the end was coming.
He grabbed for her, but only took hold of her robe. He slashed with the knife, not caring what he cut or ripped. An evil smile told her he would continue until she did not. Backing away as much as she could did not help.
This time the knife’s tip gouged deeper into her arm and the blood felt warm as it rolled down and dripped onto her sleeve. His next blow aimed higher, at her face, and soon she could not see for the blood pouring down. She fell back into the water and let herself sink below its surface.
The water was colder than she remembered it and instead of flowing over her, it pounded her with the fury of a storm. She blinked against it and opened her eyes. He stood above her, sword in hand, ready to strike the death blow. Darkness surrounde
d them and only the flashes of lightning outlined his form as he swung his weapon. At least this time the dying would be quick. She closed her eyes and gave up the fight.
Chapter Fifteen
He prayed as he never had before in his life to the God who always seemed to ignore his pleas when he saw the lightning strike above her and knew he could not reach her in time. Royce followed the dog’s barking and could not believe that Isabel stood there, in the raging storm screaming out his name.
Luckily the dog jumped on her, knocking her to the ground and out of the way of the falling branch. Drawing his sword, he hacked his way to her side. She was incoherent when he found her, her eyes wild, darting over his face and fixing on his sword. He swung once more and she was freed.
She was also unconscious.
He sheathed his weapon and scooped her from the ground. The wind tore into him as he decided that the cottage was the safest place to wait out the worst of the weather. Calling the dog to his side, he ran back down the path and to the croft. Pushing the door open and then shut with his foot, he carried her to the pallet and laid her down.
Her skin was frigid and ghostly pale. She moved not at all and he called out to her several times, trying to wake her. Her breathing was uneven and she shivered as he removed the coverings from her face and hair. Peeling off the veil and barbette from around her chin, she saw for the first time in weeks the scar that encircled one side of her face.
He knew now why she chose this head covering—it hid not only her hair and the solid white splash that grew from her scalp, but also the scar. William smoothed the hair from her face and called to her again. She did not react.
She needed to be dry and warm so he began to unlace her bliaut and pulled it off over her head. Soaked through to the skin, he realized he had to also remove the undergown and her shift. He found two blankets in the storage chest he’d left behind and, after carefully undressing her, he wrapped one around her and laid her back on the pallet.
Damn, but the rains had started before he could bring in more dry peat, so there would be no fire to warm her. He wrung out her garments and spread them over the table and bench and chair. And then knew he must do the same with his clothes, for they were just as wet. He divested himself of mail, hauberk, tunic and trousers. With the other blanket around him, he lay down next to her and brought her close.
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