Time Travel Romance Collection

by Grace Brannigan

  Grateful for something to do that might bring her closer to finding her son and perhaps the gem, she accepted the letters with thanks.

  Closing the door, she sank to the hard pallet. Leaning close to the wavering flame of the candle, she lifted the first parchment and slowly began to read.

  ¤¤

  Erik saw the rider coming fast, could see the material of her dress billowing out across the horse's hindquarters. His heart caught in his throat when the rider drew nearer and he realized it was Iliana. He had ridden all night searching for traces of her and William. His heart fell when he saw she was alone.

  "Iliana."

  She rode past him as if he did not exist, but he knew she had to have seen him. Erik turned his mount and spurred the destrier into a full gallop after her. Despite the amount of ground his horse had traveled today, the horse had longer legs and gradually drew closer to her mare. He urged the horse on, drawing ahead of her, then gradually began to edge his way in front of her mare. The mare tried to slow down but Iliana leaned down over the mare's neck and urged her to keep going.

  Erik reached out to grab the rein on his side but Iliana nudged her mare sharply away, evading him. He kept pace, then leaned down a second time and this time grabbed the rein and gradually began to slow the horses, his larger mount causing them to swerve to the right.

  No doubt seeing the danger in continuing thusly, Iliana gave up the fight and allowed him to draw her horse to a halt.

  Iliana's eyes were wild, her face tear streaked and dirty, her hair around her in a tangle. A deep fear curled in the pit of his stomach. She slid off her horse on the opposite side from him and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she ran from him.

  "Iliana." Erik followed her, his chest tight with pain and fear. He grabbed her arm and stopped her flight. Her chest heaved but she could not speak.

  "Tell me," he said urgently. "Do you know where William is?"

  In her exhaustion, she fell into his arms, but then shoved him away from her.

  "Why did you take my son!" she screamed, swinging her arm at him.

  He ducked and then stepped back to put distance between them. "William? Iliana --"

  He caught her wrist as she tried to hit him again.

  "Where is my son?" she said, her voice hoarse. "They said you took him!"

  She kept fighting him, using all her strength to kick out at him, hit him with her hands. Erik tried to calm her and finally put his arms tightly about her body while she struggled, putting his head down, turning sideways as she tried to knee him in the groin. She kept struggling even though he felt the exhaustion in her. Finally, he shouted at her.

  "Iliana! Stop. I have not taken William. Think about this -- I am here. It is me, Erik. Please, let us work together. I am not Mandrak!"

  Finally, she went still. Erik realized his own chest was heaving as he felt her pain. It was not his child but one that could have been his. So clearly he saw her deep anguish and could only imagine the loss she felt.

  "Where have you been Iliana? I've been searching all day and night. Your men are also searching."

  Cautiously, he stepped away from her, then saw her knees begin to give out and he grabbed her once more, pulled her up into his arms and cradled her. He walked over to a small group of boulders and set her on the ground and with her leaned against the boulders.

  "Tell me," he said softly, pushing the hair back from her face which looked so thin and ragged. Finally, her eyes met his, and the lackluster blue of her eyes scared him. "We will find William together," he said. "Please trust me."

  For only the second time since he had known her, Iliana began to cry in deep, wrenching sobs.

  When she was finally able to draw a breath, she felt as if her insides were turned inside out. And as she began to calm with an empty coldness, she made herself wipe all feeling for this man from her heart. "You took my son. They saw you take William. Rowenna and Edward swore by it. Did you trade him for the life of your men?"

  "I did not take him."

  "Then how were you seen spiriting him away?"

  "I was across the land, far from the keep. How could I take him?"

  "What proof?" she asked.

  He hesitated. "I have none. Ulrich was with me, and when I got the notion we were on a useless chase, I made my way back to the keep. He went on."

  "You have no proof that what you say is the truth."

  "Only my word," he said in a hard voice.

  Iliana leaned away from him. "I only want my son back. Mandrak can have the gem. I no longer care."

  "I spoke to Rowenna and Edward. They said someone appearing to be me came and took the child. In all fairness they did seem convinced it was me, but by all the saints, Iliana, I swear it was not."

  "All I know is that William is gone. He wants the green gem in exchange for William." She tried to speak around the choking tightness in her throat. "I saw on my tapestry William has been taken into the dragon's red soil hills."

  "The men ride out in all directions for the search," Erik said. "In the forest, along the village and beyond." He hesitated, and she looked away from the emotion on his face. Was he trying to trick her even now? "He has powers that keep him hidden."

  "The abbess warned me I must not go into the red soil hill, but I must try, for my son."

  "I will go with you," he said.

  "I go alone."

  He shrugged, standing. "I will go whether you like it or not."

  "It does not matter to me what you do," she said coldly. "Stay out of my way. My only thought is to find William."

  "We must pace the horses," he said, ignoring her hard words. "They have worked hard and cannot take a full day run. The sun will be at its highest soon."

  Iliana focused, knowing her blind flight would lead her into trouble. She walked toward her horse, gently rubbing the mare's nose. At least the horse had received feed and tender care in the monastery stable.

  "When I arrived back at the keep last night there was something different about the sacred circle -- a strange noise seemed to fill the air," he said.

  She shrugged aside his words, putting her foot in the stirrup to mount her mare. "It hardly matters anymore. Mandrak has tainted everything in this world. His powers seem to grow stronger."

  "Yes," Erik muttered. "And now Ulrich is gone."

  Iliana did not want to talk with him, but knew she must learn all she could to help her find William.

  "Where is Ulrich?"

  "He rode off on his own yesterday when I insisted on turning back. Maybe he planned to meet Mandrak out here." Erik sighed. "Whatever you wish to believe, I will do everything I can to find William, Iliana." He looked ahead toward the red hills just visible in the distance and without further ado, nudged his horse into a trot.

  Iliana stared after him. She wanted to ignore him, but it seemed to her that he too felt a heaviness. Was it regret?

  Iliana urged her mare into a trot, riding well away from Erik. If there was a chance Mandrak had accessed the power of the sacred circle, she feared for all life in this world, for she knew well Mandrak wanted the powers of the gem all for himself.

  ¤¤

  They reached the red soil by late afternoon. Luckily, Iliana had recalled the streams from her previous travel to this place and Erik had filled the leather water vessel he carried. Iliana had left in such a hurry she had taken nothing for water. Despair held her so tightly she had long ago run out of tears. Her little William, what would become of him? The air began to grow chill as the sun went down, and she had little to protect herself from the coming bitter night. She spoke barely at all to Erik, her thoughts still consumed by anger.

  "There," he said, pointing toward the hills, "it looks like the caverns lie in those hills. Perhaps he is holed up in one of the numerous caverns."

  On the edge of the red soil began a forest to their west. Erik dismounted.

  "Your slippers are not meant for walking on such rough ground," he observed. "I would prefer you wa
it in the forest. I will scout around and see what I can discover."

  "I will continue the search." Iliana suddenly heard the sound of distant hoof beats. She shaded her eyes against the dying sun. A horse and rider quickly approached.

  "It is Ulrich," she muttered.

  The horse and rider finally reached them. Dressed in black leggings and tunic, Ulrich stopped his mount, the animal prancing as if still fresh although sweat foamed between his front legs.

  "Pretender -- my lady Iliana." Ulrich nodded, but did not dismount. "I fear Mandrak's evil knows no bounds. He has the child."

  Iliana covered her mouth. It was worse to hear the truth than what she had only feared.

  "Where is he?"

  Ulrich nodded from the direction he had come. "Deep in the red hills, up past the caverns."

  "How can we trust what you say?" Iliana demanded. "You too are in league with that devil," she added harshly.

  The dark giant grimaced. "You might ask, but my allegiance to that one has shifted. I do not kidnap children, but we must be cautious so there is no harm to the child. He knows you are here. He will not allow you to pass beyond these little red hills. If you do so he will know and cast you in a timeless space. Even were you to pass him you would not see him as he is hidden by magic."

  "Is he that powerful?" Erik asked.

  "Do not dismiss his powers," Ulrich said, "Mandrak arrived at this place without a horse. He is even more dangerous since he crept into the sacred circle."

  "How do you know?" Iliana asked sharply.

  "I watch everything, my lady, and Mandrak was not adverse to showing me how much more powerful he is since he found his way in."

  "And what of my son?"

  "I believe the little one to be fine for the moment, my lady Iliana."

  "I do not have the emerald."

  "He knows you are the only one who can bring it forth. So he waits."

  "Take me to him Ulrich," Erik said. "I will take my chances."

  "Nay, pretender, if you do so you too will die." He looked back the way he had come, and hesitated a moment. "I must return. If there is a way to open the path for you I will do so."

  Iliana fretted. "I cannot remain here and do naught to save my son."

  Ulrich turned his horse. "My lady Iliana, it is your only choice."

  "How do we know you're not lying, even now?" Erik asked.

  Ulrich's mouth moved into a grim smile. "You don't. But I risked death to double back to you. Now I must return."

  "Ulrich," she called, her voice breaking, "please take care of my son."

  Ulrich rode deep into the hills until she could see him no more.

  "Iliana, we must seek shelter. The night will grow bitter before long."

  Iliana stared at him. "There is a small cavern not too much further," she said.

  ¤¤

  Ulrich entered the small hovel and saw the child in the corner, sitting on a dirty pallet and now the child's green eyes watched him.

  In the middle of the pallet, the last light of the day upon him, the child's face was dirty and streaked as if he'd cried untold tears of frustration and yea, perhaps hunger, too. Ulrich frowned and turned from the sight. What use was he? If he couldn't extricate himself from the likes of Mandrak, how could he possibly be of use to a child? He had a terrible taste in his mouth over this business of stealing children.

  He needed to make his own escape, but at this moment he saw no course without being hunted down. Mandrak wouldn't stir himself, but would no doubt send a spell cast dragon. Nasty bits, that, gouging a man's eyes, tearing into his nether regions. As well seasoned a fighter as he knew himself to be, he also knew he was no match for a dragon.

  Mandrak, sitting in an old wooden chair, ignored both him and the child as he studied an enormous tome upon the table before him.

  Ulrich had never learned to read, and why should he wish to? His path as mercenary had been chosen a long time ago. Now, he had a bad feeling Mandrak studied a book of evil, else why would the sorcerer read it so intently?

  As he had ridden in, Ulrich had seen the omen of the flesh-eater birds circling in the sky. Death was around them.

  At that moment the child began to wail, "Da, da, da, da, da." The wail escalated into a long, unending screech.

  "Shut him up," Mandrak snarled. "Shut him up or I will do it myself." He stood as the child's wails became louder. Ulrich thought the wee lad was probably hungry and no doubt missed his mother sorely.

  Mandrak pulled a knife from his boot and with eyes hard and intent, he approached the boy.

  Ulrich reached deep inside a small pouch which hung at his waist, and held out a wooden carved horse to the child. Distracted, the boy abruptly stopped his crying, took the horse in his grimy fingers and pulled it close to his chest. He stared up at Ulrich, tears clinging to his lashes, his face through the dirt hardly recognizable as the child of Iliana.

  Ulrich lifted him gingerly with one big fist by the back of his long tunic. "I will find milk for he is no doubt hungry. That should shut him up." Impassively, Ulrich met Mandrak's stare. "If that is your wish."

  Mandrak waved his hand. "If it will shut the brat up, then do so. Maybe I should have stashed him in a hole instead of bringing him here."

  Ulrich shrugged, tense as a bow string. "I wager with nothing in hand to bargain with when the gem is found --" he let his voice trail off.

  "Yes, what incentive is there for Iliana to bring me the gem if the child is dead? Find a way to quiet his bawling."

  Ulrich lifted the child higher, taking note of the sopping wet bottom. "No more noise," he muttered, and the child smiled at him, reaching a pudgy hand toward his beard. "Nay." Ulrich gently swatted the hand away.

  He took the wee one outside. There had to be someone hereabouts to feed him. The villagers who had not fled still supplied Mandrak with food.

  Ulrich walked toward the small row of rough dwellings. He heard a creak of wood and saw an old woman at the first dwelling quickly close the makeshift door. Ulrich remained on guard. Mandrak might think the few left were happy to serve him, but Ulrich knew better. People found surprising reserves to fight, gathering courage in the last moments of life that they had never found their entire lives.

  He pushed his foot against the door where he'd seen the old woman. "Open the door."

  Receiving no response, Ulrich drew his sword with left hand and used it to push the door open. Ducking his head inside, he held the child at his right shoulder.

  The dwelling was dark as the light waned outside, but he saw the old woman in the one chair in the room, smoking a pipe.

  "The child needs food." Ulrich could not stand to his full height inside the dwelling but stood with his head down, his weapon at the ready.

  The old woman surveyed first him and then the child. "And what payment shall I receive?" she snapped, blowing smoke between her rotten teeth.

  "Your life," he replied softly. "You get to keep it."

  "Aye, so there is a reason to rise another morning," she snapped. "And why should I feed the child food that is meant for me?"

  "Find food, old woman. His belly is empty."

  She stood and hobbled closer, her hips twisted at an odd angle. She peered at the child in the crook of his arm while the boy gnawed on the wood horse.

  Ulrich watched her warily, keeping her hands in sight at all times. "Come -- food for this one," he said impatiently.

  "And what of food for you?"

  "Nay, I ask only for the child."

  She turned away and moved to a small table, whereupon she pulled a linen cloth aside and uncovered two small apples. She pointed at them. "One for each of you. For the child cut it into very thin slices."

  "Woman's work --"

  "If you want to eat, begin with the apples." She placed a crude knife upon the wooden table and walked out a back door to a fire pit where a small pot bubbled.

  Ulrich placed his sword beside him and settled the child on a small pallet. Quickly, he quart
ered one of the apples. The child got on all fours and rocked back and forth. Ulrich sliced the second apple. Cautiously, he ate one of the slices. The child watched him.

  The woman walked back inside. "Give me the child. His soiled clothing must be changed."

  Ulrich stared at her. "I will do it." He repositioned his sword against her chair should he need it in a hurry.

  "You are protective of the child."

  "He is valuable," Ulrich said gruffly.

  "It is good. Clear a space on the table. There are garments of a size to fit the child in that small chest in the corner. Verily, you may use what you find."

  Suffering no ill effects from eating the apple, he removed the now wet and sloppy wooden horse from William's mouth and gave the child an apple slice, then another as he quickly devoured them. It was a small amount of food, but perhaps it would stave off some of the hunger pains.

  "I have a goat I milked just before your arrival," the old woman said. "It will be good for the child."

  Ulrich nodded, knowing Iliana sometimes fed William milk from the goats at the keep.

  When both apples had been consumed, Ulrich picked up his sword and William, and moved to the corner of the room where the woman indicated the chest was to be found. Keeping his back to the wall and his eyes from time to time on her, he was surprised to find a small ornately carved chest. He ran his rough fingers over the fine workmanship. He opened it and looked at the contents, then at her.

  "This is --

  "Unexpected?" she chortled, and her gray and haggard face appeared younger. "I was a seamstress at court for fifty years or more. I was commissioned to sew all manner of garments for the children. You may take what you like."

  Ulrich lifted a small tunic, a miniature of the one he wore with small rings laboriously sewn into the fabric. He also pulled out chausses and small leather shoes.

  He looked at her suspiciously. "These are men's garment in small size."

  "He will need protection," she said. "Hurry, it grows time for you to leave." She walked back outside to the fire, then returned with two stale bread trenchers with bits of vegetables. Dipping a short length of linen in a water bucket, she moved to the child and began to rid his face of the dirt and grime. "What eyes this one has," she murmured. "The purest of emerald."