"You waste both our time." Slowly, she lifted the wave-bladed sword from the bed furs and stared at him with hard eyes. "I shall have to kill you instead."
He looked at her steadily, his hand on his own sword hilt. "Then I will be on my guard."
¤¤
Erik sighed. All was not going as he'd hoped. The passion in her words affected him. All this time he had searched for her, yes, yearned to find her, always going back to the seven days they spent together. Erik shook his head, bombarded by thoughts of dragons in the sky and tapestries that showed life events in colorful art and detail, and that changed as you moved your hands over the surface. He had a sudden thought.
"Do I have a life tapestry?" he asked.
Her eyes grew wide. Impatiently, she said, "Since birth you are granted a tapestry, but your life is not recorded until you are one years old." She looked at him skeptically, as well she might. Apparently, this was knowledge he should already have if he were from this world. "I have no doubt your tapestry is old and tattered and red from the blood you have shed with your warring activities."
Erik clenched his jaw. This pretense grew more cumbersome by the minute.
"I would tell you I mean you no harm, but it seems I cannot convince you."
She crossed her arms.
"Then I shall stop trying."
Erik dropped all bantering, the whiteness of her face and clenched fists telling a story that was beginning to bite at him. Here was a woman very much in distress and there was nothing he could say to relieve her fears. He was certain Mandrak had more men than Ulrich watching his every move. She didn't appear to even recall their time together and that was also a hard truth to swallow.
With a muffled oath, he reached out his hand, his intent merely to lightly touch her cheek with his fingers, perhaps to soothe her. The gesture went awry and his entire palm cupped her cheek. She flinched away and twin spots of color began to burn in her cheeks.
"Please forgive me, Iliana, for surely I do not mean to frighten or threaten you." His voice was rough with apology and regret.
"I am not frightened," she bit out, as if it were a great effort to speak at all. A dart of surprise flitted across her face, then was quickly replaced by that loathsome coldness. "Your appearance in my chamber was unexpected, that is all. If you truly mean your words, then take your men and leave."
He shook his head with regret. "That I cannot do." He wanted to gain her trust, but right now he wondered if that might prove impossible.
The blue of her eyes were dilated to tiny points. Although she did not back away or try to evade him, Erik could feel some part of her shrinking from his touch. His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of her, the fragrance of roses. Unaccountably, his senses stirred, his body responded.
"I mean you no harm." Impatient with himself, Erik turned and quickly strode toward the door.
She narrowed her eyes. "Am I to believe your lies? Do not come to my chamber again."
"I shall await an invitation."
"Then you shall wait," she said with satisfaction.
"And my name is Erik Remington," he said and left the room.
Iliana followed him to the door, watched him move down the narrow corridor and toward the stairs. Agnes joined her in the doorway and Iliana took little William into her arms.
"He is not as I expected," she said, but she certainly would not trust a man who came to take her livelihood.
Was he trying to lull her into a false security? Iliana knew it was the waiting she would find most difficult. Waiting until he decided to make his plans known.
Chapter Five
"You have come to find her."
Erik turned to the voice behind him, his eyes piercing the shadows as he stepped inside the keep archway. He was slipping, he thought grimly, letting Iliana distract his thoughts. He was irritated with himself and his dangerous preoccupation. There was no place in this world for distraction, it would get him killed.
"Who's there?"
A small woman in black shuffled forward, detaching herself from the darkness of the wall. She lifted her face to him, a thin beak of a nose prominent, lips drawn back from toothless gums. Dark eyes in a shrunken skull seemed to regard him with a spark of amusement.
"I am Sorenta. I serve here and sometimes I advise the Lady Iliana." She nodded. "I knew you would come."
At the moment, willing to play his part, Erik said, "It's common knowledge my men at arms and I were to come."
She laughed and it caused a shiver to run down his back. Annoyed with himself, Erik said, "Tell me what you know of Iliana?"
She turned the question back on him. "What do you know of her?"
"Leave me if you are intent only on riddles."
"You are a man fascinated by riddles," she observed. "Look in your heart, where you love a challenge. You wanted to find her and so you have."
"Iliana."
"She is here, and yet she is not."
"I see her in flesh and blood."
"This history writes itself each day. You are here for now."
"And what do you know of my arrival?" he asked, wary of revealing any information.
"How you arrived is how you will leave. But you will leave something you once loved dearly behind. And you will take with you something that you never knew was yours."
"You think you know who I am," Erik said.
Her dark eyes opened wide. "You are the key to the treasure. You must claim your life tapestry before it is tainted," the old woman added, turning to leave.
"Where will I find it?" he asked curiously.
"Under the dragon."
"Where the devil is that?"
She was there one moment and gone in the next.
Erik moved to where she had stood and ran his palms along the walls. He pushed against the cold stone in several places, but to no avail. How could that woman disappear even while he watched? But then he remembered how his brother Darien and his love Elise had dissolved before his eyes. That was almost a year ago and he had not seen them since.
He pondered the words she had spoken. Edward, the lad he had met in the bailey earlier that morning, came toward him.
"My Lord?" the boy queried, his face concerned as he observed Erik pushing against the seemingly impenetrable stone walls. With a rueful grimace, Erik straightened from the wall.
"There was an old woman here, Sorenta. While we spoke, she disappeared in an instant."
The boy nodded, his face losing its concerned look. "Yes, my lord. She comes and goes. No one is quite sure in what manner."
"She just disappears?"
"It would appear so, my lord. We are all familiar with her. I imagine it is strange for one such as yourself upon the first meeting."
"One such as myself?"
The boy bit his lip and looked down. "That is, someone new to Dutton Keep." His voice was low as he met Erik's eyes again, his body held stiffly erect. "She does not usually show herself to those living outside these walls."
"But lad," Erik said softly, "I now live within these walls."
"Yes, that you do," the boy agreed quickly. "Mistress Iliana sent me to tell you the meal is prepared and they await your presence."
Erik turned to follow the boy through the great hall. "I think perhaps mistress Iliana would not mind if you did not find me at all."
The boy looked uncomfortable, then looked up at Erik and blurted. "In truth, I expected you to be out in the courtyard with your men at arms. I did not expect to find you at once within."
"Ah, so clever Iliana sent you to search where she expected me not to be?"
The boy didn't respond, but no reply was needed.
Erik followed the boy down the corridor toward the great hall, studying everything around him. Despite the stone, the walls had been made quite comfortable with tapestry hangings, and he assumed none of them were life tapestries but instead appeared to be scenes depicting daily life. The keep itself appeared clean and well swept and despite what he susp
ected would be frigid nights inside these stone walls, the room he had taken as his own did boast an enormous fireplace.
Unfortunately, it appeared he and the lady were to be at odds for now. He didn't dare mention the green gem or he'd really be suspect, but he had to somehow keep an eye on her. If his men and ship were not endangered by Mandrak, this might have proven an enjoyable venture, getting to know Iliana.
Erik sighed. The sooner he discovered what Mandrak was really about, he could somehow get back to his men and depart this unwelcome and cold heap of stone. Could he convince Iliana to come with him? Would she ever remember him? He thought of the child, surely less than a year old. Whose child?
As they passed the stairway that led to the upper chambers, the young maid he had seen in Iliana's room earlier was nearly halfway down the stairs, her arms laden with linen. She smiled at him, then seemed to miss her footing on the stair. Teetering precariously on the wooden steps, she screeched, her arms thrown upwards. Neatly folded linen sailed in various directions as she attempted to save herself from falling.
Erik lunged up the steps. His fist clenched material and he pulled her towards him. He heard the material of her tunic tear in his hand. She did not plummet down the stairs, but flung herself toward him as he heaved them toward the wall and away from the open stair. She landed heavily against him, her face inches from his own, her breasts bare and heaving upon his chest.
Pushing wispy blond strands from her eyes, for she had lost her cap, Agnes stared with wide eyes at him, then down at his arms which held her crushed to him. Then she examined their position with something of a bold grin, and an invitation if he chose to acknowledge it as such.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Agnes smiled at him. "I am sorry my lord. 'Twas my own fault for not paying closer attention to where I put my feet." As if just realizing how her breasts were exposed to his view, and that of young Edward's, she made an attempt to cover them with her hands.
"Agnes! What --"
Iliana, no doubt having heard Agnes' screech, stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Erik could imagine what went through her mind. For all intents and purposes it appeared he'd waylaid her maid, torn her tunic in his eagerness, the remnants of which were still between his fingers and her bare breasts next to his hands.
"Agnes," Iliana said in a cool voice, "please cover yourself and retrieve the linens."
"Mistress --" began Edward.
"Edward, I see you have found my lord as I asked you to do. Now I believe you are needed to help with the serving of the repast. The girls have begun to carry in trenchers."
Edward ducked his head and scooted down the hallway.
Agnes scrabbled around, trying to reach the once-clean linen she'd been carrying. She grabbed several, holding them against her breasts as she rose, then accepted the hand Erik offered, her eyes sending him silent apology.
"Agnes!"
"I am sorry mistress, but the laundress will need to clean this linen once more. Oh, 'twas my fault," Agnes babbled, "in truth I was not looking --"
"Agnes, leave us," she said patiently.
The maid fled.
Iliana looked at him as he remained unmoving on the stairs.
"Perhaps you think to enjoy all the young women in this castle," she bit out furiously, "but I will not have it. You will respect my wishes and leave the women of Dutton Keep alone. Neither shall you be such an influence on young Edward. If you cannot contain yourself, I ask you to find a willing woman outside these walls."
Erik lifted a brow. "You wish for me to do my wenching outside these walls?"
"Exactly," Iliana said. "And it is quite unseemly we should have this discussion." She clenched her hands together. "Please cover your chest."
Erik looked down. The material of his tunic gaped, and apparently it did not please the lady as she frowned in annoyance.
With an exasperated mutter, she turned and traced her steps back to the great hall where tables were now laden with food. He caught up with her.
"Iliana. Agnes simply lost her footing."
Her shoulders were stiffly held. "And should I believe you?"
"I do not lie," he said softly.
"You will excuse me." She turned away.
With a sigh, Erik caught up with her. "I will continue with you to the meal."
She turned her shoulder to him. "I do not think I can eat," she said with icy disdain. "I find I no longer have an appetite."
"That is a shame," he said patiently. "It smells quite inviting. I have not eaten since yesterday, so I will take my leave and join the men."
"Wait." She halted, bit her lip and looked up at him. "How long do you and your men intend to stay here? Surely you have interests that will take you elsewhere -- other fighting or another keep to conquer?"
Her voice seemed almost hopeful and he sensed the emotion churning in her. She wanted them gone. "I thought you knew." He made his words slow and measured. "I plan to remain here for some time. I am charged with seeing to the care of the keep and its lands, and also the lady of the keep."
She stepped away from him. "I take care of myself. I thought there must be more important business dealings for you to attend to."
He could hear the disappointment in her voice. He shook his head. "Alas, no."
Erik left her standing there. Surely in time she would see he was not a scoundrel?
¤¤
Iliana stared after Erik with burning eyes. Nothing was as it seemed with this man. One moment he played the gentlemen, the next he was rutting after the maid.
Iliana needed a walk outside to clear her head. She needed guidance, but of late, it was sorely lacking. If only she could find the green gem, the treasure -- that was the key to her mission being completed. She would be released from this prison; it was just all becoming too much for her to bear. And what of William? He must come with her. She could never leave her child behind. Anguished, the question was always in her mind. What if he were not allowed to come with her? What then?
The sounds of revelry and shouts from the men in the hall below stirred her ire until the late hours. She wondered did he remain until the wee hours celebrating, looking at the keep's many fine features, thinking of the land that may even now be under his control? With a disgusted snort, Iliana imagined he did not. More than likely he'd sought out Agnes, or some other comely maiden to spend the night with.
As Iliana went about her duties that evening, she gritted her teeth until her jaws ached. Her biggest fear was that he would interfere with her mission, and she could not have that. The people under her care would be at risk. The man's presence demanded she remain alert, and if it came down to it, she must take action. Difficult choice might have to be made. The taking of a human life did not sit well, but she knew there might be no other action open to her.
¤¤
"My lord Mandrak, please, wait up, I canna see you, 'tis no moon tonight." Agnes hurried after him in the dark, excited but a bit unnerved by the darkness around them, especially as they moved outside the protection of the village walls. She knew the man's reputation, but in truth she felt flattered that he had sought her out when any of the prettier girls may have been taken with his dark and dangerous reputation.
He made no reply, merely pulled his dark hood closer, but Agnes was gratified when he put out a hand and grabbed hers tightly. Mandrak pulled her strongly into the shadow of the trees, his arm snaking about her waist, pulling her hard and tight up to him. She gasped, her breath knocked from her, but then she smiled. She caught a brief glimpse of his face before his hands were all over her, pulling down her blouse and then his hands were at her waist, pinching and ripping at her garments.
"Truth to tell, my Lord Mandrak," she laughed breathlessly, "I wasn't certain you would be interested in me, being there are others more comely than myself."
"Of course I am very interested in you -- Agnes," he said. "I am interested in all aspects of life here. I wish it was possible for us t
o walk about in the day, but I fear it is not to be."
"I know. I am sorry you are not spoken about more highly," Agnes said sadly. "After you explained the false charges brought against you, I wish there was something I could do to make it right. Perhaps I could put in a word with --"
"No -- no, do not worry yourself," he said. "You know we must remain quiet for now. I fear others would not understand the feelings we share. Sadly, there is nothing that can be done. But I am glad I have you to champion my cause, even if it is only within your heart."
"I would do anything to right the wrong done to you," she said.
Mandrak went still for a moment. "How does your mistress fare?" he asked. "I ask because I heard there were men at arms intent on taking over Dutton Keep."
"It was a sad day when the men arrived," Agnes agreed. "But I would not wish to speak of the mistress's private thoughts, she has been very kind to me."
"Of course I would not ask you to reveal her secrets, Agnes. Never fear that. But there is much fighting hereabouts, she is lucky to have extra men for protection."
Agnes nodded. "There is that, of course. I do not think she sees it in quite that way. She fears they will intrude on her business."
"Of course. Her gem trade. And does my Lady Iliana have any new and glorious gems to talk about?" He squeezed her gently as he lowered her to the stony ground.
"No, though I know she awaits the arrival of the gem traders -- they are late and we fear they may have been waylaid by bandits due to the countryside skirmishes."
"Yes, it is very dangerous on the roads now. I would have to wonder what would you do for a priceless bauble, Agnes?"
Agnes laughed. "The gems are very pretty, but I'd be more afraid someone would take it off me," she said, putting up a hand as pebbles bit into her scalp. "It would be nice for a bit, but then it could be sold for bread or perhaps a bit of lamb."
"How true. But we have other more important issues to discuss, such as where we left off from my last visit here." His mouth dropped to hers hard and bruising, his heavy weight pushing her punishingly into the ground.
Agnes giggled, then put her arms around him, allowing the slight stirrings of guilt to be washed away by passion. She knew it would be frowned upon if anyone knew she was meeting with him, but she had never been one to pay heed to what other's feared. He pulled her cloak back, ripping at the coarse linen tunic beneath the fine material, until his fingers touched her skin again. Punishingly, he gripped the flesh of her abdomen between his fingers and twisted the flesh.
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