Flight of the Raven
Page 18
“What if I have?”
“Don’t you see it points to a more serious imprisonment?”
“Of what, pray?”
“Your mind, and I dare say your heart.”
“Robert—”
“That’s why you’re tramping about the cold battlements, instead of enjoying your warm bed.”
William turned his back and stared at the storm clouds that swirled ever closer. “I know that,” he muttered.
Robert’s sigh mingled with the wind’s. “If you relish your prison so much, why should you object to my mentioning it?”
William spun around. “You’re a fine one to preach! I’ve not seen you drop to your knees to renew your faith in God and the Holy Church.”
“And you never shall.”
“Then why pressure me?”
“You’re married, Brother. You have more than your own needs to consider.”
“Lady Ravenwood wants what I cannot give.”
Robert raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”
“Love,” William said, as though naming a disease.
“She wants what is her due.”
“Because I slid a wedding band onto her finger?”
“No. Because of what she’s given you.”
“She won’t give me an heir. That much I know.”
“Well, you’d better listen to what I know. You’re happier at Ravenwood than I’ve seen you in years.”
The memory of Emma’s violet eyes and spirited smile raided William’s thoughts. “’Tis fleeting, Robert. Mere moments of happiness.”
“A lifetime can be built from such moments…if you allow it.”
Footsteps sounded in the stairwell. Together, the brothers turned as their squires appeared.
Geoffrey seemed to analyze William’s stance and expression. “Do you require anything, my lord?”
“Not at the moment,” William replied.
Guy turned to Robert. “Have you told him about Erik?”
“Aye,” said Robert.
William rubbed his jaw. “’Tis curious the rider should spring from the Long Wood.”
Geoffrey frowned. “The same place where your attacker hid.”
Guy folded his arms. “Whoever the man is, he must know the forest extremely well to venture into it at night.”
Robert nodded. “Why would he risk being seen by our men? What errand is so pressing?”
“An evil one,” William answered.
Robert and the squires turned to William as one.
“What do you suspect?” Robert asked.
“I hardly know,” William replied, “but I sense trouble.”
The far-off sound of a horse’s gallop drew them all to the crenellated wall. They strained their eyes to pierce the unusual darkness of the dawn. On the horizon, a lone rider appeared, tearing down from the north.
“Is it Erik?” said Guy.
“I cannot tell,” Robert responded.
The rider advanced. His speed spelled peril, urgency. His hair was straight and blond.
“Who is it?” Guy asked.
“Not Erik,” Geoffrey said.
A prickle of recognition ran along William’s spine.
Robert frowned. “It looks like—”
“Wulfstan,” William finished.
“What the devil is he doing here?” Robert said.
William’s blood raged in his veins. “What indeed?”
Geoffrey turned to William. “Do you think he was the mysterious rider?”
“Who can say?” William replied.
“He’s in quite a hurry,” Guy said.
“He would be,” Robert murmured, “if Erik’s chasing him.”
William scanned the quiet hills and dales to the north. “There’s no sign of Erik. Not yet.” He hastened to the south wall, and the others followed.
Below, Wulfstan slowed his mount as he neared the moat. A whir of excited voices rose from the gatehouse.
Robert regarded William. “Will you receive him?”
“In due course,” said William. “But not right away. You must greet him in my stead.”
“I?” said Robert.
William lowered his voice. “If Wulfstan was the rider in question, Erik will be along soon. I’ll hear my spy’s report before I give audience to anyone else.”
Robert nodded. “Guy, go to the gatehouse and tell the men to lower the drawbridge,” he ordered. “I’ll be there anon.”
“Aye, sir.” Guy spun on his heel and disappeared down the stairs.
Robert turned to William. “What shall I tell our guest?”
William shrugged. “Whatever you like.”
“You’re asking me to lie.”
“I’m telling you to be creative.”
Robert gave him a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t doubt it,” William replied. “Tell the men to be vigilant.”
“Understood,” said Robert. Then he hurried down the stairs.
William turned to his squire. “And what think you, Geoffrey?”
Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. “Wulfstan’s sudden arrival is suspicious.”
William nodded. “’Tis why you must help me dress.”
The grating of gears sounded below as the portcullis awoke.
“Dress, my lord?” said Geoffrey. “For what?”
“For battle.”
Chapter Twenty
Alone in the chapel, Emma shuffled toward the altar. She paused and stared up at the stained glass window. The dim light trickling through it muted the colors. The gold cross on the altar looked just as dull.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes.
She could blame any number of things for her mood. The ailing sun. Her lack of sleep. Gertrude’s admission. But they were mere excuses.
The heart of the matter was…well, her heart.
She loved William. How and when the emotion took hold was a mystery, but ’twas undeniable. So was his rigidity.
There was a difference between fearing a thing and feeling it. Hope was possible when she only imagined his emotional limitations. Now that he’d declared them, she was lost.
“Emma?” a familiar voice echoed off the stone walls.
Doubting her ears, she spun around. Wulfstan stood in the chapel doorway.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “You’re the last person I expected to see. How did you find me?”
He removed his blue, woolen mantle and slung it over his arm as he approached her. “Tilda told me you were here.”
“But who told her?”
“Gertrude.”
Emma sat on the front bench. “Please, sit.”
Wulfstan draped his mantle on a neighboring bench, then joined her. “’Tis good to see you again.”
“And you. But why are you here?”
He bounced his knee. “To talk to your husband, but he’s unavailable at the moment.”
“’Tis early yet.”
“Early enough for me to wonder why you’re up and about.”
She rolled her eyes. “I barely slept.”
He nodded. “I thought as much from the dark smudges under your eyes.”
“Your honesty does you credit, but ’tis not very flattering. As I recall, you made a similar comment the day after my wedding.”
“I did, and it worries me. You must look after your health. If Lord Ravenwood—”
“I love him.” She folded her hands as though praying.
Wulfstan’s ice blue eyes widened, then stared into hers. “I believe you do.”
Her shoulders slumped as fatigue washed over her. “But he doesn’t love me.”
“Has he said so?”
“Aye. What’s worse, he says he never will.”
“Never is a strong word.”
Her gaze fell to her lap. “I know something stronger. His love for another.”
“He’s taken a mistress?”
“He may as well have.”
“A ghost from his past, someone he met in the Holy Land.”
“She’s not here at Ravenwood, is she?”
“No, and according to Sir Robert, she disappeared long ago.”
“What was her name?” There was a sudden edge to his voice.
She looked up at him. “Sahar.”
Wulfstan glanced here and there, unseeing, as if his mind pieced together a puzzle. “I think you’re wrong about her.”
“How would you know?” Emma asked. Then she gasped. “Your vision, the day of the attack!”
He nodded. “I thought it best not to share it then, but it might comfort you now.”
Her heart pounded. “Tell me.”
“I saw the whole thing through your husband’s eyes. ’Twas dark. He entered a cave that glowed with firelight. I could feel his excitement, and then…”
“What?”
“He came upon a naked couple making love beside the fire. The man’s back was to him, so his face was hidden. But the woman was clearly Sahar.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Lord Ravenwood screamed her name in his mind.”
Emma felt numb. “Was it rape?”
Wulfstan shook his head. “That was the worst of it. Sahar noticed Lord Ravenwood and smiled at him, as though she’d expected him to come. Then several men grabbed him from behind, and she started laughing. She and her new lover had plotted his capture.”
“Blessed Virgin,” Emma whispered.
“The soldiers forced him from the cave, and Lord Ravenwood’s emotions exploded. Shock, rage, despair. I felt all of it, just as he did. And there my vision ended.”
“If only the experience ended for Lord Ravenwood, but it didn’t.”
“You know what happened afterward?”
“He became Hattin’s prisoner.”
“Hattin?”
“A Saracen chief with a taste for torture.”
Wulfstan frowned. “I see.”
Her heart twisted as she imagined William’s pain. “Betrayed by the woman he loved,” she said. “Sir Robert never mentioned that.”
“I doubt he knows. The memory was so strong and buried so deep. I don’t think Lord Ravenwood told a soul.”
She bit her lip. “Now I understand. No wonder he cannot love.”
“Don’t be so sure. Your husband is a powerful man, and if he doesn’t love, ’tis because he chooses not to.”
“After what he’s suffered, how could he choose otherwise?”
“He could start by believing in you.”
She shook her head. “Not so easy.”
“Perhaps not, but he does care for you in some capacity. He took an arrow for you. And he was jealous of our relationship. With time, and prolonged physical contact, he’s bound to love you.”
“Physical contact,” she muttered.
“Aye,” he said. “The act of love is spiritual and binding.”
“So if I bedded with him, his heart would become more vulnerable.”
“I would expect it. But the curse is still a threat.”
A once discarded seed took root in her mind. “What if I found a way around it?”
Wulfstan placed his hand over hers. ’Twas warm, encouraging. “All the better, but I’d still advise you to weigh the risks.”
Hope rustled deep within her. “I think I already have.”
“But I haven’t told you everything about my vision,” he said in a hushed voice. “’Tis why I must speak with Lord Ravenwood.”
She leaned forward. “What is it?”
Just then, a movement at the chapel entrance caught her eye. Robert lurked in the doorway.
“Cozy, aren’t we?” he said, crossing his arms.
She yanked her hands from Wulfstan’s grasp and jumped to her feet. Leisurely, Wulfstan rose and grabbed his mantle from the bench.
Robert watched him. “My brother will see you now.”
“Good,” Wulfstan replied. Then he turned to Emma. “We’ll talk later.”
“Later,” she agreed.
As Wulfstan strode to the door, she glanced at Robert.
“My lady,” Robert said, bowing. When he straightened, he grinned.
She smiled back at him. At least he trusted her.
As the men vanished through the archway, she planned her next move. ’Twould work if Wulfstan was right. It had to work, and the end was worth any means.
Suddenly, Gertrude appeared in the doorway. “Well?” she said, hurrying forward. “What said Wulfstan?”
Emma did her best to look casual. “Nothing much. Only that he must speak with Lord Ravenwood.”
Gertrude’s eyes narrowed. “Then why do you look like you were just crowned queen of all England?”
Emma pushed her shoulders back. “I’ve made a decision.”
“About?”
“My marriage bed. I know you overheard my conversation with Meg in the workshop, so you must know of the drink that prevents pregnancy.”
“Are you willing to try it?”
“I am.”
Gertrude grinned. “How extraordinary! I came to suggest that very plan and urge you to try it at once. I’m sure when you become Lord Ravenwood’s lover, you’ll win his heart.”
Longing, intense and undiluted, surged through Emma. To lie in William’s arms without fear or restraint would be bliss, a dream come true.
For an instant, Gertrude frowned. Then a smile brightened her face. “We must act quickly,” she said. “I’ll find Meg and have her mix the potion. You go to your chamber and wait for me there. Tell no one what we’ve planned. If your husband knew, he’d be furious.”
Emma nodded. “I want him to sire an heir, just not until I’ve secured his love.”
“Of course,” said Gertrude, her green eyes sparkling. She grasped Emma’s hand and pulled her toward the door. “Make haste. We’ve not a moment to spare.”
****
William clasped the cool hilt of his sword as he climbed the prison tower’s winding staircase. The weight of the chain mail beneath his mantle was familiar and reassuring. So was the knowledge that his men were ready for a fight, if one was needed. Less comforting was Erik’s continued absence. Regardless, ’twas time to face Wulfstan.
Robert’s deep voice reached William’s ears halfway up the stairs. “Do we owe this foul weather to your presence?” Robert asked Wulfstan.
The Saxon’s voice was just as resonant. “Strange as it may seem, my moods do affect the elements.”
“Fascinating,” said Robert. He stood before the dormant fireplace and glanced at the doorway as William crossed the threshold. “Ah, my brother.”
With preternatural grace, Wulfstan pivoted on his heel and leveled his bright blue gaze on William. “Lord Ravenwood,” he said with a nod.
William challenged Wulfstan’s stare with his own. “Let’s say I believe in your link to the weather. Why is your mood so dark?”
A shadow fell over Wulfstan’s face. “All last night, I sensed something was wrong. Once I realized sleep was hopeless, I came hither to warn you.”
“A noble gesture,” said William. “But can you be more specific?”
“Unfortunately not,” Wulfstan replied. “’Tis but a feeling of disquiet centered on Ravenwood.”
William had the same feeling. “I wouldn’t have expected your concern for our welfare.”
Wulfstan raised an eyebrow. “And I wouldn’t have expected us to meet in a prison.”
William shrugged. “You told Robert you wished to speak with me in private. This tower seemed the perfect place. But why the need for secrecy?”
Wulfstan glanced over his shoulder at Robert.
Robert raised his hand and performed a casual, impertinent wave. “I’m still here.”
“I see that,” Wulfstan responded. Then he turned back to William. “Do you wish to hide anything from your brother?”
William exchanged a soulful look with Robert. “No.”
“Then I’ll continue,” said Wulfstan. “I don’t know how much your wife has told you of my abilities.”
“Do you think we discuss you at every meal?” William snapped.
Wulfstan clenched his hands, then relaxed them. “Hardly.”
“You can assume I’ve heard nothing.”
“Then let me inform you. I have the Sight.”
“That gift seems commonplace here in the north,” William said.
Wulfstan looked relieved. “Then Lady Ravenwood told you about her visions. Mine are different from hers because they stem from personal contact. When I touch people, I see moments from their past. Specifically, what hurt them in the past.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“You may not remember, but I touched you the day you were attacked at Woden’s Circle.”
William’s chain mail felt heavier, constrictive. “Are you implying you had a vision about me?”
“About your past, aye.”
“Ridiculous.”
“You can judge the truth of my words soon enough.”
William shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Proceed.”
“I saw a cave in the Holy Land.”
William froze.
“Lovers beside a fire,” Wulfstan continued.
“Impossible.” William clutched the hilt of his sword.
“You went thither to meet her, but she was with another man.”
“Stop!”
Wulfstan raised his chin. “I saw her smile and heard her laugh. She planned your capture…and relished it.”
“Not another word,” William warned, but his feet seemed glued to the floor.
“Her name was Sahar.”
Heat raced along William’s nerves. “How dare you speak her name!”
“What?” said Robert.
William ripped his gaze from Wulfstan and regarded his brother.
Robert’s gray eyes were wide, disbelieving. “’Tis true?”
“Aye,” William said through clenched teeth.
Robert shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Whom would it have served?”
“Whom did it serve not to?”
“Me,” William growled. “I told you only what I could bear to remember.”
“God’s teeth!” Robert swore. “How could she betray you? After all you gave her. Filthy, malicious, Saracen bitch!”
“Too right,” said William. “What I told you about her lover was true. I don’t know who he was, but I believe he had a hand in my capture.”