Tess Mallory - Circles in Time

by Circles In Time (V1. 0) (Lit)

  Kendra paced impatiently toward the house, then spun around, her forehead creased with worry. "So all I have to do is return to Avebury and hope my circle will appear and take me home?"

  "That is correct."

  "And me without my ruby red slippers," Kendra quipped.

  Cennach laughed and put one arm comfortingly around her shoulder. " 'The Wizard of Oz.' Ah, movies. I do miss them."

  Kendra's gaze softened. "I wish you could come back with me."

  "It's all right, Kendra." He squeezed her shoulder. "My life is here and I am satisfied. Now, let us get some sleep, for tomorrow we must begin our journey. Wiltshire is quite some distance from here." He glanced over where Marian was sound asleep on the ground, curled up in her blanket. "I see once again I've bored one of my students into slumber. Marian." He reached down and shook her gently. "Marian, wake up."

  "Huh? Wha—" Marian sat bolt upright and began apologizing profusely. "Oh, Cennach, I do ask your pardon. What did I miss?"

  Cennach stood, then leaned down and helped her to her feet. "Come, my dear, and I will give you a very brief synopsis on our way inside. I believe Kendra needs a few moments alone."

  "Professor."

  He glanced back, his kind face poised in a familiar yes-what-is-your-question attitude. Kendra smiled.

  "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything."

  "You are most welcome, my dear. Don't stay out in the cold too long. Good night."

  "Good night." Kendra murmured the farewell, pushing away her guilt for making him think she had so easily given in to his request not to follow Navarre and Robin. She stood and began to pace in a small circle. She would leave to follow Robin before dawn, since even she wasn't foolhardy enough to travel alone at night. Once she made sure Navarre and the king were all right, she would return to Avebury and see if the circle would reappear and take her home again.

  Home. Where was that now, exactly? Her life with Mac and the Chronicle didn't even seem real anymore, but strange and far away, so very far away. Kendra lifted her gaze to the sky, to the stars shining like finely cut diamonds upon a velvet cloth. She picked out one of the brightest and, closing her eyes, made a wish that turned into a whispered prayer.

  "I wish… I wish… oh dear God, let him be all right. Protect him. I can't bear to lose him again."

  Kendra wasn't Catholic but she didn't think God would mind that she made the sign of the cross, then hurried inside to prepare for her journey and wait for dawn.

  Navarre rode through the night as though every demon in hell were nipping at his heels. As he fought to cover the miles between Cennach's home and the coast of England, his thoughts fluctuated wildly between the knowledge that Garrick held a deadly power in his grasp and the fact that he had abandoned the woman he loved without explanation. As the miles flew by, his thoughts flew just as quickly.

  If Kendra traveled back to her own time before he returned, could he survive the loss? She wanted him to go with her to the future, to a time where he would be a burden weighing down her life. The things she had told him were wondrous, amazing, and, if he were honest with himself—frightening. He would be an ignorant barbarian next to the people in her century. How could he do as she asked? And yet, how could he ask her to stay? How could he leave his world, the only life he had ever known? How could he ask her to give up hers? If only he had more time.

  Time. How ironic, he thought, as he slowed Kamir to a walk, giving them both a chance to catch their breaths. The very element that I need more of, is that which will take Kendra away from me.

  Navarre ignored the sudden constriction around his heart as he kicked Kamir back into action, pressing onward, onward, toward the coast. He kept to the byways, stopping only to sleep for a few hours each night, then rising again to take to the road. Garrick did not have that much of a headstart, yet there was no sign of him along the road. Outside of London, the knight stopped in a tavern and overheard several nobles talking excitedly about the king. He was able to make out from their conversation that Richard had already arrived in England and was even now on his way to Canterbury where he would be newly crowned as England's king.

  Feeling the time growing shorter, Navarre drove himself harder. He circled around London, crossed the Thames, and headed farther south for the coast and Canterbury. As his objective grew closer he began to plan how he would get close enough to Richard to protect him from Garrick. Perhaps a disguise that would get him past the guards. A tinker or a blind beggar, hobbling up to see the king? Nay.

  He dismissed first one idea and then another, and in the end decided the best course of action was to find Garrick first. If he couldn't find the sheriff, he would find a way to get as close to the king as possible and add his guard to those he knew would be surrounding Richard. If Garrick used the gun there would be no way to protect the king. He could fire from a distance and never be caught, for who would believe that a small object could send death from so far away? He must find the sheriff and put an end to the threat against the Lionheart without revealing himself to the king, if at all possible. He had no doubt that Richard had received full reports about Navarre's traitorous activities since their days together in Outremer.

  Navarre made it to Canterbury on a chilly April evening, just before sunset. As crowded as London, an aura of celebration permeated the city and its streets. Wearily he searched for a place to rest, to prepare himself for what was to come. As evening faded into night, his weariness became more pronounced and his temper more frayed as one inn after another turned him away. Boarding establishments were filled to overflowing as dignitaries and nobles rushed to find a place to stay for the festivities that would begin the next day and continue for the rest of the week, culminating in the crowning of the king.

  Frustrated, hungry and exhausted, Navarre finally rode Kamir to the outskirts of the city and found a quiet glen where he rolled himself in his cloak and tried to sleep. But sleep would not come to him. He stared up at the stars. Would Kendra hate him for abandoning her? He would not blame her if she did, and yet, she herself had urged him almost from the moment they first met to save Richard. He tossed restlessly on the hard ground as other probing questions pressed against his brain until at last he sat up. and allowed the thoughts and questions free rein.

  Kendra was right of course, about returning to her own lime. She did not belong here and would find life extremely difficult. If they had children together, she would no doubt watch at least one or two of them die, from disease or complications at birth. His chest tightened. She could die herself. It was a hard life, no doubt about it. The events of Richard's coronation day would, perhaps, make it even harder. He knew that it was possible he would be killed, either by Garrick or Richard's men.

  How would Kendra live if he were not there to protect her? Would she end up in the streets, some toothless wench plying her trade? He shuddered and shook the thought away. No, Kendra was right, but dear God how hard it was! How he wanted to share his life with her, have children with her, grow old with her.

  He raked one hand across the stubbly beard he'd not taken time to scrape away during his frantic journey across England. Another man would do these things, he thought, feeling suddenly empty. Kendra was young, beautiful. She would have no trouble finding a husband. Navarre closed his eyes against the image. Someone else marrying Kendra, his Kendra, combing her auburn hair, kissing her peach-colored lips. Someone else siring her babies.

  His eyes flew open and with an oath he flung his cloak away from him and stood, wishing impotently for something to fight against besides this terrible sense of loss plaguing him. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace back and forth. There had to be a way. She wanted him to go with her to her own time. He had been thinking of it, during the days and nights of his journey, had considered it long and hard and had come to the conclusion that, after all, Navarre de Galliard was a coward. The thought of traveling through time, of journeying to a far and distant future, frightened him more t
han any battle he had ever faced, any foe he had ever fought.

  Somehow he must convince her to stay with him. Kendra was his. He would not give her up. If they lost children—He felt a quick thrust of unfamiliar pain in his heart and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting the emotions assailing him. Regaining control, he opened his eyes and lifted his chin. If she lost any children, there would be others. He would give her as many as she could bear.

  And if she died giving birth? A voice echoed in his mind. Then what? He brushed the thought away. It would not happen. He would not let it happen. If, however, he did not return in time to stop her from leaving, he would lose her forever. He must fulfill his promise to Robin and hurry back to convince Kendra she must stay in the past with him. Resolutely he lay back down on the ground, and pulling the thick cloak up to his neck, he willed himself to sleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  « ^ »

  While Marian snored softly in the bedroom they shared, Kendra raided Cennach's chest and found some old clothing that must have belonged to the man when he was younger and thinner. She slipped a pair of brown leggings and a matching tunic on and, after rummaging a little further, found a short, muddy-colored cloak and hood such as she had seen common people wear. She donned those, too along with a belt made from a kind of twine. Pausing in the next room only long enough to snatch a loaf of bread from Cennach's cupboard, tiptoed between the sleeping friar and professor and made her way silently out the door.

  Rosy with dawn, the promise of the rising sun warmed the tops of the trees and belied the chill clinging to the ground. Kendra shivered as she found her horse. The gelding had been unsaddled by someone—Friar Tuck most likely—and now had to be resaddled. Kendra surveyed the animal through narrowed eyes. She had done a little riding in college and when she was a kid in Texas, but it had been a long time since she had saddled a horse. Still, there was no alternative. She couldn't ride such a long distance bareback.

  After several false starts, Kendra managed to get the leather and wooden apparatus on her horse's back and fastened it under its belly, tightening it as much as possible, though the way the animal puffed and blew, it was hard to tell if the girth was right or not. Finally, Kendra gave up and left it as it was. Tying the supplies she'd gathered securely behind the saddle, she swung her leather satchel over her shoulder and, untying the reins, guided the golden horse into the forest. There she found a fallen tree and used it to pull herself up into the saddle.

  It shifted with her weight and she eased herself back the other direction, wondering if she should get off and try to re-cinch the thing. The sun made up her mind as it pierced suddenly through the treetops and darted into her eyes. There was no time left. If she were going after Navarre, she'd better be on her way.

  Aware that by leaving she might also be giving up her chance to return to her own time, Kendra gazed back over her shoulder at Cennach's home, took a deep breath, and turned the horse toward Canterbury, and Navarre.

  The baby was perfect. His hair was soft and fuzzy, dark like Navarre's, his eyes the blue of the English sky. Marian handed the child to her, wrapped in a soft blanket, and Kendra cradled the tiny infant to her breast. His mouth opened and closed like a baby bird's and minute, porcelain fingers curled around her index one as she gazed down at the precious gift she held.

  The pain struck unexpectedly, piercing her in the lower abdomen. She doubled over and someone snatched the baby from her arms. She couldn't see for some reason and the pain struck again, bringing more darkness.

  "My baby!" site cried, clutching her belly with one hand and reaching out with the other. "Give me back my baby!"

  "Your baby is dead," a strange voice murmured next to her. "You killed it."

  "No! Kendra tried to get up but the pain brought her hack down. Rough hands encircled her arms and shook her savagely. At last she could see. Someone in a dark cloak was taking her baby away. He turned and smiled back at her. Garrick. Garrick had her baby. Where was Navarre? Navarre would stop him! Kendra groped in the darkness that came crashing down over her once again. Navarre was gone. Navarre had gone to save the king. Navarre had left her and their baby to die."

  "Navarre!" The scream was torn from her throat and someone shoved her backward. She couldn't move. Her limbs were numb. She was dying and her baby was gone.

  Kendra awoke, cold sweat beaded above her lips and trickling down between her breasts. Her breath felt frozen in her lungs, caught by the vivid vision of losing her child. She had ridden hard for three days after leaving Cennach's, sleeping wherever she could find a place at night, driving herself onward during the day until she could go no farther without falling off the saddle in sheer exhaustion.

  This night she had searched for somewhere safe to lie down and sleep, but the forest had thinned and there was no usual hedgerow or dell where she could hide herself from the human and animal mauraders that roamed about when the sun went down. Dozing on her horse's back, her mount must have smelled water, for she had awakened suddenly to find that they had stopped beside a clear stream within a wooded glen, a perfect place to camp for the night.

  Kendra had wrapped her cloak around her aching body and as was her usual custom, climbed the nearest tree and cradled herself between the twisted tree branches, hoping her baby wouldn't be born with "rockabye baby in a treetop" as his favorite lullaby. She'd fallen into a deep sleep until the dream, and the pain, had jerked her back to consciousness. Now she slid down from her perch above the ground, the pain in her lower abdomen doubling her over. Shivering uncontrollably, Kendra checked herself for the telltale symptom of blood and, finding none, gulped back the sobs threatening to overpower her.

  Was she losing her child? Had she endangered her baby by her breakneck trip across country? Of course she had—she was a fool! But her heart jumped to her defense. How could she have done otherwise? She couldn't have simply let Robin go after Navarre thinking he meant to kill Richard. But now what if she couldn't find Navarre? What if Robin found him first? And what if she missed the portal of time and was trapped in this century where she was destined to die in childbirth, and Navarre's child with her?

  The eruption of pain burst forth from her in great gulping sobs as her hands protectively pressed against her belly, the helplessness of her situation encompassing her.

  "Don't do this," she whispered to herself between the racking cries shaking her. "Don't give in. Be strong. Navarre's life depends on it, your life—"

  "And Richard's life?"

  The deep voice came at her from behind. Kendra froze, then slowly turned her head to search the darkness, her heart pounding. Garrick? She could see no one. The trees grew thickly here but still the moonlight danced in spots across the glen. Kendra couldn't stand, but she managed to pull herself to a sitting position to face her adversary, fists clenched, hair streaming down her back, unbound by the hard journey.

  "I knew I should've gone straight to grandma's house," she muttered under her breath, then gasped as another pain ripped through her.

  "Kendra, it is you, is it not?"

  Kendra's breath left her in a sudden surge of relief as she recognized the second sound of the voice and a tall man stepped out from behind a tree. "Robin? Robin, is that you? Oh, thank God, thank God." She began to cry again as the outlaw crossed to her side, kneeling beside her. A stray beam of moonlight illuminated his bruised face and Kendra reached up instinctively to touch him, then curled her fingers into the front of his tunic for support. She felt suddenly faint.

  "'Are you mad?" he demanded. "Do you risk the life of your child in this reckless manner? What say you?"

  "I had to come," she said brokenly, clinging to him and hating the weakness in her that required it. "Thank goodness I found you in time. You misunderstood me, Navarre is not going to kill Richard with the weapon I brought back from the future." Robin didn't respond and her hands slid up to his shoulders. She shook him as hard as she could. "Do you hear me?" she shouted, forcing him to look at her.
"Navarre is not going to kill the king. Garrick has the gun and Navarre has gone to stop him!" She collapsed against the outlaw and felt the long shuddering breath of relief escape his lungs.

  "Aye," he said softly, smoothing her hair and patting her on the back. "I hear you. I am relieved to hear you say so, for I had no desire to kill Navarre."

  "Or be killed by him," Kendra mumbled against his chest.

  He chuckled. "So sure are you that your hero would best me?" He shrugged. "Aye, well perhaps you're right. I should not have dashed away so hastily without speaking with you further. No damage done, thank God, so rest now, and tomorrow we will find Navarre—and Richard."

  "What about Garrick?"

  "Garrick as well. Now rest you."

  "Robin, I…" she shivered again and he leaned toward her, concern wreathed on his face.

  "Are you all right, Kendra? Are you ill?"

  "It's the baby," Kendra said, a catch in her voice, "I'm afraid I'm losing the baby. But I couldn't let Navarre die. I couldn't."

  "Shh," he whispered, shifting to lean against a large tree trunk nearby and pulling her against him. She hesitated only momentarily before gratefully accepting his offer. "Here now, of course you could not. Tell me, do you bleed?"

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  "Then worry not. Likely you are just exhausted and saddleweary. After a good night's sleep you will be yourself once again."

  Kendra looked up at him suspiciously. "How do you know so much about pregnant women?"

  Robin blinked, taken aback for a moment by the implications of her tone of voice, then he laughed. "I was raised in a household consisting of ten older sisters, milady. Believe me, I am quite knowledgeable when it comes to the anatomy of a woman."

  Kendra smiled up at him. "I bet you are. Thank you, Robin."

  "Good night, Kendra."

  Sighing, Kendra relaxed against the outlaw, hoping she wasn't offending Marian by allowing herself the comfort of Robin's arms. The pain was subsiding a bit now and she could only pray Robin was right.