The Amethyst Amulets

by Cillian Burns

  Something awakened Julie from a deep and dreamless sleep. The bed had just dipped beside her. Nicholas was back!

  Before she could call out his name, a hand covered her mouth while the other one pressed her firmly against the mattress. What the...? Nicholas did not indulge in this kind of play.

  Her eyes opened wider, and she stared up at the shadow straddling her. “Mump?"

  "Keep quiet,” he hissed, “or I will knock you out."

  She blinked. It was Robert's voice!

  He sat heavily on her stomach and began winding a scarf around her head, shifting his hand when he reached her mouth. She reached up and tried to pull the material loose, but he caught both her hands in one of his and held them above her head. Her tugging did no good. He used another piece of cloth to bind her wrists.

  Julie recovered from her first moments of panic. Whatever his intentions, she'd fight him until the end. She dug her heels into the mattress and tried to buck him off.

  He cuffed her. “Lie still, damn it!"

  Stars wheeled in front of her eyes. “Mmmf!"

  Her legs dropped limply. After a moment, the weakness passed and she renewed her attack. But he was stronger than she. He fisted the side of her head again, and this time a darkness without stars enveloped her for a moment. She was falling, falling. While she fought against a total blackout, she was lifted, slung over Robert's shoulder and jostled as he walked out of her room and down the stairs. Thank God she had worn her long shift. Imagine the embarrassment of being carried off half naked.

  At the bottom of the stairs he turned, probably into the corridor which ran to the back of the castle and an outside door. Her guess was confirmed when she heard a latch rattle, and the chilly night air hit her legs and backside.

  Now, he proceeded more slowly, apparently ducking from shadow to shadow. She tried to kick and was cuffed again. Damn Julianne's frailness! She could have done much better with her own, well-conditioned body.

  Another door opened and closed. The postern gate, she decided. He had successfully stolen through the castle and across the yard with no one the wiser. He closed the gate and went down the outside stairs. The dark shadows below the walls would provide the perfect cover. No casual observer would see them. But why was he doing this? Did he think to rape her, then leave her somewhere and go on to do...what?

  Julie fought the dizziness that partially numbed her mind as she dangled upside down. If she could just manage to kick him in the one spot that would make him drop her, perhaps the sound would call the wall guards’ attention to her plight.

  But her legs had no range of motion. Robert had them clasped tightly against his chest and her bound hands rested between her chest and his back.

  Frustrated, she had no choice but to relax. If she bided her time, an opportunity to escape might present itself. She would just have to pick the right moment.

  The blood pounded in her upside-down head, which ached from the hard blows Robert had delivered. The tight cloth ropes chaffed her wrists as she struggled to free them. All circulation to her limbs had been cut off. Another fear gripped her, and the last thought she had, before the darkness claimed her, was for her unborn child. Oh, dear God, please don't let him hurt my baby!

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  Chapter 18

  Julie awoke slowly. Pins and needles jabbed her bound hands when she moved and a gag covered her mouth. Then she remembered. Robert had abducted her. It took little thought to determine where she was. If Robert did not work for Nicholas, then he was Miles’ man. But Robert was only an accountant. Or was he? Hadn't he seemed a little too old for one of the very young men trained at Oxford? And a little too eager to carry the news to Nicholas. Then where was the accountant Nicholas had sent for? With a sinking heart, she feared he was dead along with his escort, both probably killed by the man who had taken his place—Robert. That made her captor very, very dangerous.

  She struggled and yanked at her bindings. They would not give an inch, and her wrists already felt like raw meat from her struggles. Panting from exertion, she pushed herself to a sitting position and glanced around.

  She seemed to be in a tent. A folded back flap framed a pre-dawn grayness. Twisting around, she saw she was alone. She'd have to wait for her captors to show themselves. That Miles held her captive was a given. The why didn't seem as clear as the who. Was he holding her for ransom? Or was his plan to force Nicholas to keep Miles’ older son as his heir?

  She knew Nicholas would never choose Miles to inherit his lands. And should he select his nephew Richard, Nicholas would appoint a strong, loyal protector, a man like Sir Edgar, who could keep the boy safe from his father's influence.

  How she wished she could spirit Nicholas to this tent right now to help her escape. If only she had not left the amulet beneath her pillow, it might have been possible.

  With a sigh, she slumped back on the cot. True, she could try to escape from the middle of the enemy camp with her hands tied, but the outcome seemed a foregone conclusion. Perhaps a better opportunity would present itself if she bided her time.

  The sound of voices outside the tent flap caught her attention. A man stepped inside, a black silhouette against the pale gray sky. Although she could not see him clearly, she had heard him speak. It was Robert, undoubtedly coming to gloat.

  He moved to stand in front of her and the dawn light flooded in around him. A smug little smile twisted his mouth. If her hands were free, she'd claw his face. Tilting her chin defiantly, she glared. Robert jerked off the gag and laughed. Not a nice laugh, just arrogant amusement at her expense.

  "Well, Lady Julianne. I finally have the pleasure of your company, and alone, I might add.” His eyes gleamed with wolfish hunger as they swept over her.

  She swallowed a few times to moisten her mouth. His expression explained the lewd glances he'd sent her way over the past weeks.

  "Untie me!” she demanded, hoping sheer bravado would accomplish what all her tugging had not.

  "It would behoove you to be more compliant, wench."

  "I'll show you compliant.” Julie swung her legs sideward, connecting with Robert's thigh.

  "Ouch! You vixen.” He grasped her upper arms and yanked her to her feet. With a snarl, he shook her. “Any more of that, and I will thrash you soundly,” he growled, flinging her back down on the cot. With a grunt, he yanked up her shift and flung himself on top of her, his cruel fingers gripping her breast, while his other hand reached between them and loosened his leggings.

  Once again, Julie bucked, trying to unseat him. With her bound hands crushed between them and fast losing sensation she was nearly helpless. “Get off you big oaf!"

  "I think not, milad—” Robert suddenly stopped pinching her breast and a surprised look spread across his face. “I...” He dropped with a grunt on her chest and lay still.

  As she stared, a trickle of blood ran from his nose onto her shift.

  Julie twisted her head and saw Miles standing beside them. He grabbed a handful of Robert's tunic and yanked him to the floor. She rolled on her side and stared down. A dagger protruded from Robert's back and blood stained his tunic.

  "Oh my God,” she breathed, sitting up and swinging her legs to the floor.

  Miles smiled grimly. “That is what happens to those who try to take what is mine."

  Julie gathered her wits and stared up at him. “Since when was I yours? Not that I don't appreciate your stopping Robert from raping me."

  "So, you can thank me for saving you from my knight by behaving. Otherwise, I might have to...” He sliced the air with his hand.

  He was right. The better she behaved, the more likely he was to trust her. Even though hand-wringing and tears weren't her thing, for now, she would try to act like Nicholas’ real wife.

  And, in truth, she had to be careful. She could do nothing that would harm her baby.

  She attempted to look cowed. “I'm sorry, Miles. Please, don't hurt me.” The words stuck in her throat. She dro
pped her eyes to her bound wrists. “You will untie me, won't you?” The degree of subservience in her voice made her want to vomit.

  "It all depends upon you. I will need your promise not to try to escape my care."

  "You have my promise,” she lied. “But why did you abduct me from my home? And why did you bring your army here?” These sounded like questions Julianne might have asked.

  "Do not worry your pretty head about it, Lady Julianne. I had heard rumors that Barstow Castle might be attacked by the Baron of Wickenham. Naturally, I came to Nicholas’ aid, especially after I heard he was away."

  Julie wanted to rake her nails across his arrogant face, but she restrained herself. “Oh, I see. Thank you for your concern, Miles.” She held up her wrists. “But I'm still tied."

  He seemed to want her to believe he'd brought her to the middle of his army to protect her for Nicholas.

  With an unctuous smile, he undid her bindings, then sat beside her on the cot. Taking her hands in his, he rubbed them, ostensibly to start the blood circulating, but more likely because he wanted to touch her. It took considerable discipline on her part not to pull away.

  Finally, he let go of her hands and stood, a regretful expression on his face. “Shortly, I will escort you to my castle where you will be safe. I would never forgive myself if you were captured by the wicked baron."

  He was probably making this up as he went along. Julie had heard Nicholas mention Wickenham a few times, but always favorably. In these times, however, a friend could often turn into a foe if it were advantageous. She would reserve judgment on the man, considering the source of the information.

  She bowed her head and murmured, “As you wish, my lord.” What she really wanted was a sword to run him through. Recalling Sir Robert's unpleasant actions during the abduction, she asked, “Was it really necessary for Sir Robert to treat me so harshly?” She was curious as to how he would explain this.

  "I am sorry, dear lady, but he feared you would cry out and alert the guards. They would not have allowed him to bring you to safety."

  Slippery bastard, wasn't he, with an answer for everything. She let none of her thoughts reach her face. Smiling, she said, “Oh, I see.” She saw all right. He wanted no one aware she was being spirited away by Robert, one of the supposed good guys. That didn't fit Miles’ plans. He wanted her in his power, because that would give him a bargaining chip with Nicholas. It all sounded like a very bad movie, circa 1920.

  "I must leave you now, Lady Julianne, but I will send food for you to break your fast. I will return in an hour and we will leave for Norville Keep.” Miles kissed her hand, rose and disappeared.

  Julie grimaced and scrubbed the back of her hand with her shift. So far, no one had given her clothes to wear, so she wrapped the blanket from the cot tightly around herself. It was full daylight now, and she wondered what was outside the tent. She tiptoed to the opening and peered out. As she feared—guards, two of them, stood on either side of the opening. Miles didn't really trust her one bit. That was wiser of him than he knew. The real Julianne would probably not have attempted to escape. Julie, on the other hand, would look for an opportunity, albeit one which would not threaten her baby's life.

  What she needed was a plan. Her feet were cold, so while she thought, she curled up on the cot with them beneath her. Miles might believe himself clever, but he was no match for a twenty-first century woman.

  At least she hoped not.

  The guards came in just then and dragged Robert's dead body away. She didn't plan to tell Miles about the babe. For now, it was better he didn't know. Since she suspected part of his wicked actions stemmed from a desire to have his son Richard remain Nicholas’ heir, she might be in more danger if she revealed her pregnancy.

  After a while, Miles returned and handed her a gown and a cloak.

  "Get dressed, my lady. We are leaving in a few minutes."

  The clothes looked too big, but whether they fit or not, she would at least have something to cover her body and keep her warm. Why the rush? Was he afraid if she remained so near the castle, she'd try to escape, or that her people would try to rescue her?

  Or had he heard Nicholas was on his way home? Miles enlightened her no further, just stood waiting, his mouth drawn into a grim line.

  "Might I have some privacy to dress?” It was hard work keeping the sarcasm from her voice.

  He nodded and stepped outside, lowering the tent flap behind him. She wasted no time dropping the rather shapeless brown wool gown over her head and tying the cloak tightly around her shoulders. Having clothes again felt good, but her feet were still cold. “Lord Miles,” she called. “Have you brought nothing to put on my feet?"

  He didn't answer. Then she heard him mutter something to the guard and the sound of retreating footsteps. Ten minutes later, Miles entered the tent with a pair of shoes. “These are as small as I could find.” He handed them to her and again stood waiting, the toe of his boot tapping impatiently.

  "Patience is a virtue,” she said sweetly, hoping to annoy him. She shoved her feet in the well-worn leather shoes. They were too large, but would help keep her feet warm.

  He snorted, then grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Come along. Do not dawdle. We must hurry if we're to reach Norville Keep before dark."

  His long strides forced her to almost run to keep up, but she pressed her lips together and refused to complain. He'd enjoy that too much.

  They mounted and set out at a brisk clip, accompanied by four armed guards. By now, she felt more comfortable on horseback, having had no other way to get around since she arrived in this time. Nonetheless, she didn't enjoy the pace Miles set. Her horse was tethered to his and the little mare trotted timidly along beside the huge, ill-tempered destrier Miles rode.

  After an hour or so, the sky darkened and a light rain began to fall. Miles cursed under his breath and quickened the pace. Soon Julie's cloak and gown grew soggy, adding to her misery. She kept quiet, however, refusing to ask that they seek shelter. If their escort minded being soaked, they didn't show it.

  But the expression on Miles’ face darkened with the day, and the perpetual scowl on his handsome face deepened.

  The rain turned the road to mud, which the horses’ hooves splattered all over everyone. The men rode along silently, probably too miserable or too surly to engage in conversation.

  "Is it much farther?” she finally asked Miles.

  He glanced over at her, water dripping from his helm onto his shoulders. “Nay, just a few minutes more."

  She nodded. She had hoped to find a way to escape during the journey, but even if her horse was not tethered to Miles', she doubted the little mare could outrun the huge stallions the men rode. And jumping from her mount and running was an even more ludicrous idea.

  With a sigh, she put a temporary halt to plotting. Time enough when they arrived at Norville Keep. Eleanor was there and Eleanor was her friend. Perhaps together they could come up with a scheme. Julie was certain Eleanor would not view Julie's captivity with favor. But would she agree to defy her husband and help Julie get away? Only time would tell.

  When at last they plodded wearily into Norville Keep's single bailey, Julie's backside was sore and her head ached. She slid off her horse and waited, not knowing what was expected of her. Eleanor decided for her, running down the steps and across the yard to where Julie stood.

  "Oh, Julianne. What a pleasant surprise. I am so glad you have come."

  "Your husband brought me.” She glanced up at Miles from beneath her lashes. Let him explain all this to Eleanor, she thought, throwing back the hood to her mantle and running chilled fingers through her matted damp hair.

  "Nicholas is away, so I brought her to visit you.” So, Eleanor was not to have the real story. At least not from Miles.

  Eleanor looked bewildered. “But why is Nicholas away? And where is Julianne's maid?"

  "You will provide her with a maid. And Nicholas has gone to London to answer the king'
s summons."

  Miles seemed to think it unnecessary to explain further. When Eleanor still appeared puzzled, he added, “I thought you might like the lady's company."

  "Well, of course I do, but where is your army? Is it at Barstow?"

  "Enough questions,” Miles thundered.

  Eleanor frowned. “You must think me a lack-wit, husband, to give me such a foolish tale. You are besieging Barstow, are you not?” she asked Miles’ departing back. She glanced at Julie.

  Julie nodded. “Yes, the army's camped outside the gates."

  "But, how did he get you?"

  Weariness swept over Julie. “It's a long tale. Couldn't we go inside and—"

  "Oh, forgive me, Julianne. My manners have deserted me. Come in, come in. You must be famished and exhausted.” Eleanor took Julie's hand in hers and led the way into the keep.

  Nicholas would deal harshly with Miles when he returned, Julie thought as she walked along beside Eleanor.

  If only she were still alive to see him.

  Night crept along behind them, the shadows lengthening and the birds calling good night to one another. The sun had set and a rosy pink sunset marked its departure. She needed some dry clothes, food and sleep in that order. Tomorrow she would spin her tale to Eleanor and see whether the other woman would help.

  It seemed so long since Nicholas had departed. What could the king want of him? Had her guess been correct?

  If he'd been sent to help Simon de Montfort, it would take him weeks to go to Gascony and back. Would he return in time to straighten out this mess? It seemed unlikely. Even if he hurried, it might be too late.

  She straightened her backbone. Between her and Eleanor, a solution would be found.

  And if Eleanor refused to help, well, then she would cope alone.

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  Chapter 19