Love Will Find You: The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time

by Sherry Ewing

  Riorden muttered beneath his breath. “Dristan and Amiria will both have my head if something befalls you. At least take Caldwell with you. He will not slow you down and I trust him.”

  Killian gazed at both men, briefly contemplating Riorden’s offer. “Nay, but I give ye my thanks for the offer. I still feel I will be better off traveling on my own. No offense, Caldwell.”

  Caldwell threw up his hands. “None taken but I think you are making a mistake. There is safety in numbers.”

  “I will return with the Lady Ella and for our second steed,” Killian said giving them a look of what he hoped was confidence.

  Riorden nodded. “See that you do. I do not relish having to explain to my Katherine that you failed in your quest to rescue her friend because you refused our extra help. You have a long ride ahead of you, mon ami.”

  With a jaunty salute, Killian kicked Mystic into motion. With a small measure of luck, he just might catch up with his lady before they reach Hull. He had a gut wrenching feeling no matter what happened he would be spending a considerable amount of time scouting out the castle layout for him to find a way to rescue his lady.

  Chapter 17

  They traveled south in relative silence. Her son made no efforts to communicate with her. On one hand, Ella was glad for it, for what was there really to say to a man who had become all but a complete stranger to her? On the other, she mourned the days when her son had been young and looked to her for guidance. Those days were obviously long since gone. Faramond had returned from his fostering in disgrace, angry and bitter, and Simon had been furious with the way he had behaved. She had thought time would heal the wounds, but instead Simon had died and she had been exiled.

  She had been such a fool to confess her origins to Faramond all those years ago in an effort for him to understand how lost she had felt at the time of his father’s passing.

  Simon of Hull had been a handsome man with black curly hair and light blue eyes. She studied her son’s profile from lowered lashes. A modern phrase flitted across her mind. The apple had not fallen far from the tree as far as her son was concerned. Faramond was almost an exact replica of her late husband. She could have been looking in a mirror of her husband’s younger self. As they neared the village of Hull, her past life flashed across her mind’s eye, and, with those images, she wiped away an unexpected tear. She tried to count the number of years it had been since she last stepped foot in a place she had called home. ’Twas at least ten when she made the mistake of getting too close to Hull, although it made no difference now. She looked ahead at the thriving river port.

  A sob almost escaped her lips and she forced her emotions to recede back into the deepest place within her. She had locked such tormenting memories away and kept them hidden from any who made any attempt to pry into her life. Even those who had become close to her did not truly know of the extent of her exile. She would be damned if she would give Faramond the satisfaction of knowing how his treatment of her was affecting her.

  As though he knew her thoughts had momentarily settled upon him, her son pulled sharply on the reins of the horse, stopping the beast before they entered the village. He was not even gentle with an animal that had carried him far in his travels. Ella did not expect her own treatment to be any better, considering she had been taken against her will. Her raw wrists where the rope had cut into them ensuring her captivity were witness to his cruelty.

  “You will obey me and remember your place in my household,” Faramond ordered with a smug look as he stared at her tied hands. ’Twas as though he gained confidence in his ability to keep her under his control. Taking a dirk from his belt, he slit the abrasive cords that had bound her. Ella rubbed at her mistreated limbs. “Do you understand me, mother?”

  “I am perfectly capable of hearing you, son,” Ella replied, a hint of defiance all but dripping from her words.

  “You shall show me respect at all times, lest you wish to be bound again or put into the dungeon.”

  “And if you wish to remain in the good graces of your people, you shall do the same in my case. I am certain there will be several amongst those living within Hull who shall remember I was once mistress here,” Ella stated, watching for any sign of the young man she had once proudly called her son. But the look he gave her told her she should not hold her breath waiting for a miracle he would change. Apparently, greed had become Faramond’s master and the Devil owned a part of his soul for him to treat his own flesh and blood in such a manner.

  He opened and closed his mouth several times before he answered her with clenched teeth. “’Twill be your choice how you are treated while you remain in my hall.”

  “Technically, I believe ’tis my hall,” she laughed to further annoy him.

  Faramond’s face turned purple with rage. “You defy me even at my own gates?” he snarled.

  “You have not given me any indication that there is still some love left in your heart for me. ’Til you do so, you are nothing to me and certainly nary my son,” she exclaimed raising her chin to drive her point home. “Now let us see how you have taken care of Hull in my absence. This should prove very interesting.”

  Faramond gave a growl of outrage before turning in the saddle and slapping the reins against his horse. ’Twas as though the steed knew it should make haste lest it anger his master and feel the lash against his flesh.

  They made good time through the village before coming toward the river’s edge. There in the distance was her home, but ’twas not the home she remembered. Her home had been a lovely keep rising three stories some distance from the edge of the river and giving her a delightful view of the surrounding countryside. Faramond had been busy, for how long Ella could not say. The beginnings of a battlement wall were progressing, and she could only ponder what other developments had changed her castle since she had last resided within its protective walls.

  They entered the courtyard and she saw the sturdy door and entryway into the keep. Ella closed her eyes. Once again, images worth a full lifetime raced in front of her as though she could even now see her son playing in the courtyard with a wooden sword made by his father.

  The last time she had seen Simon had been on the day he was to travel to London. Opening her eyes, her gaze once more landed upon the keep. She had stood on those very same steps while her husband bade her farewell. How was she to know ’twould be the last time she would see him alive? Would she have asked him to forgive her for never truly loving him the way he deserved to be loved if she had known? How many times in their past had she caught his gaze, making her feel guilty she was incapable of loving Simon as much as she had loved Henry?

  Simon had been so in love with her he turned a blind eye to all her faults and still cared for her to the best of his ability. Poor Simon… he deserved so much better than a woman who settled into a life with him so he could provide her a safe haven to live.

  She gave a heavy sigh. When Simon’s body had been returned to Hull by her son, Faramond would not give her any details of how Simon had died. Ella had been devastated to see his body wrapped in linens in the back of a lowly wagon. She had begged Faramond to tell her of his death but he had refused, stating the how and why of it did not matter. But the manner of his death did matter, at least to her, not that her son offered her any form of solace in her time of grief. She may not have been in love with Simon but that did not mean she did not care for the man.

  ’Twas still odd after all these years that Faramond would not divulge such information to his own mother. Mayhap there was more to the story of this supposed betrayal Simon committed to the crown than Faramond had told her. That had been the day she had confessed her origins to her son. She never expected Faramond to disown his own mother and kick her off the estate with her dead husband barely into his grave. Even after all these years, she swore her knees and palms still hurt from the stones she had landed upon when she had fallen.

  “By the Blessed Saints, ’tis Lady Ella returned to us,” a woman’s voice
called out.

  Ella knew that tone. How could she not? Her gaze swept the courtyard before they fell upon one of the ladies who had attended her all those years ago. A small smile of recognition escaped Ella’s lips remembering the kindness this woman had always extended her, especially in those first days when she felt so out of place… and time.

  “Isabel. How good it is to see you after all these years,” Ella beamed, extending her hands in friendship. The woman lessened the distance between them and grasped her outstretched limbs.

  “You have been missed, my lady,” Isabel murmured, keeping her voice low. She cast a hesitant look upon Faramond whose contempt registered on his visage ’til he called for a stable lad to take his horse.

  Taking off his leather gloves, he slapped them upon his thighs. “I will see you at the evening meal, mother,” he declared before dismissing them and taking his leave.

  Ella shivered and shook her head, as though such an act could erase the disappointment overwhelming her at her son’s behavior.

  “I have much to tell you, my lady,” Isabel said, once they were alone in the courtyard.

  “Just Ella,” she said with one shred of hope she could remain an ordinary woman and not one who bore a lofty title as mistress of a keep. Isabel’s next words confirmed she would not be given that mercy.

  “I would not dare to call you by your given name, Lady Ella.”

  She linked her arm through Isabel’s. “Then we shall remain on a first name basis while we are alone behind the closed doors of my chamber. I could use a friend to have speech with. I assume I am to have my old rooms?”

  “I am sure your son will see to the matter.”

  A snort slipped through Ella’s lips. “I doubt he will give me much thought now that he has returned me to Hull. But let us see where I can rest my head and perchance clean up from my travels.”

  They entered the keep and Ella stumbled as memories assaulted her mind yet again. Closing her eyes, she conjured up the image of Killian, wondering if, even at this very moment, he was searching for her. She gave a heavy sigh and began to wonder if her life would ever be simple again.

  Chapter 18

  Killian made his way through the village before peeking around a pole by a vegetable stall. He observed Ella strolling through the market square in the company of another woman. ’Twas the moment he had been waiting for and he was glad to see she had not been thrown into a dungeon. Such a location would make releasing her from her current situation a far more difficult quest.

  The two women appeared on friendly terms, if their laughter was any indication as to their relationship. His scowl deepened while he watched the merriment between to the two ladies. What was there to jest about, given her predicament? One would think from looking at them that they did not have a care in the world. Such a thought quickly disappeared when his lady looked over her shoulder. Even over the distance separating them, Killian could see Ella’s smile fade into a grim line of discontent. She was not pleased, nor could he blame her.

  His attention moved to the two guards who were following directly behind her. Their close proximity to his lady would not leave him much of an opportunity to have a private word with her. They were heavily armed and yet Killian had no doubt he could best either of them if the matter arose. Bloody hell! How in heaven’s name will I rescue, Ella? he mused before scratching at his beard while he puzzled over their dilemma.

  Their group began strolling on to the next stall and Killian continued to watch their progress from his place of concealment. His thoughts wandered over the past several days. He had been relieved when he first espied Hull and the place Ella had once called her home. Although located next to the river, there were no battlement walls to impede his entrance into the estate, although ’twas not hard to miss the beginnings of one being constructed. But ’twould take many a year before the keep was surrounded in a wall of protection for those who would dwell within the castle. Killian prayed he and Ella would be long gone from this place by then.

  Shaking his head, he was abruptly taken out of his musings when he noticed the woman next to Ella move across the village to inspect a stall not far from him. He prayed he could trust the woman to get a message to Ella, given what he had seen but moments before. Surely, he knew Ella well enough to be able to read the signs that her companion was not in cahoots with her son’s devious plans.

  Retracing his steps behind the back of the stalls, he reached the end of the row and waited for the lady to make her way nearer before he made his presence known. Stepping through the draped linen at the back of the stall, he hopefully appeared as though he was just another potential buyer or mayhap the seller.

  “Ye be friends with the Lady Ella,” he murmured, for her ears alone. He mentally cursed as he listened to his accent, which would certainly give these Englishmen reason to wonder what a Scot was doing so far south and out of his element.

  The woman had been in the process of sniffing a piece of fruit. Her gaze went to him and her eyes widened before she quickly scanned the area. Luckily, she was not being watched as closely as her mistress. “My name is Isabel. Are you perchance Killian?” she asked, reaching for his wrist as though to hold him in place.

  Killian smiled, knowing his lady had spoken of him. “Aye, and ’tis pleasing tae my ears tae learn ye have knowledge of me.”

  “You are all she speaks of,” the woman confessed, giving Killian a warm feeling in the pit of his belly.

  “Is my lady well?”

  “As well as can be expected, I suppose, although her son has threatened to toss her into the keep’s pit on more than one occasion.”

  He grimaced thinking of the one located in the depths of Berwyck. “Pits… they are a nasty place tae keep a prisoner.”

  “Aye, they are, and the one located at Hull is especially vile, considering the close proximity to the river,” she replied. She continued her assessment of him. “You are here to rescue her?”

  “Why else would I be this far south?”

  “You must do so, then, with all haste. A runner has been sent to London and I have no doubt her intended husband will travel to Hull to collect his bride. ’Twill make no difference to him whether she is willing to marry him or not.”

  A low snarl passed Killian’s lips. “I would willingly die to save Ella from such a fate.”

  “Let us hope ’twill not come down to you giving up your life for hers.” Her name was called by one of the guards and she held up a finger to indicate she was almost done. “I must leave. Do you have a message for my lady?”

  Killian opened the pouch at his side and pulled out his mother’s ring. “Give this to her and let her know she shall be free as soon as I can figure out how to earn her release.”

  “I shall tell her your message.” She took the ring and tucked it inside her cloak before she turned to take her leave.

  “Lady Isabel…”

  The woman smiled. “I am a simple woman, Killian, and certainly hold no title. Isabel will do. You have more to your message?”

  Killian cleared his throat for Isabel’s comment sounded so like Ella that the resemblance was startling. “Aye… tell my lady tae be well and rest easy knowing I am near. I willnae fail her again.”

  Isabel nodded and quickly left making her way back to Ella’s side. While their party began to make their way toward the keep, Isabel whispered in Ella’s ear. Ella, in turn, almost fell face forward from what Killian assumed was Isabel telling her his message. She halted their progress and he could hear her informing the guards she had a pebble in her shoe. With Isabel’s assistance, Ella removed her shoe but as she went to put it back on, she looked across the market.

  Their eyes met and Killian felt a zing of emotions while he held her gaze. Ella placed her hand over her heart. He nodded and returned her loving gesture before the spell was broken by one of her guards telling her to hurry. She gave one last look upon him before she continued her stride back to the keep.

  Killian had watc
hed her ’til she disappeared from sight. His mind going in a hundred directions, he could only ponder what he could do next to ensure his lady’s freedom.

  Chapter 19

  Shrieks of outrage poured forth from Ella’s lips. Yet for all her screaming, her son’s guardsman continued to force her down the steep steps towards the dark cellars below. She kicked. She bit him. She swung her fists hitting him on any part of his body she could reach but this only caused the knight to hold her even tighter. He began to threaten her even while she heard her son chuckling behind them on the stairs.

  “You shall not harm one hair upon her head lest you wish to answer to me,” Faramond warned, surprising Ella that he cared enough to actually come to her defense. “Set her down.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Ella was swung down from the knight’s shoulder. She was about to offer her thanks to her son for coming to his senses but his words dispelled anything further thoughts from coming to her lips.

  “I believe ’twould be more satisfying to lock you away myself. If you will not behave, I will then be more than happy to see you gagged and bound,” he jeered. He nodded towards his man “Get below and see that her cell is opened.”

  Ella took a swing at her son but missed as he jerked aside. “You bas—”

  Her words were cut off when Faramond caught her about the waist. “I do not believe my birth is an issue here, mother.” With little thought, he picked her up to swing her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and continued carrying her down into the dim and musty cellars.

  “Damn you, let me down, Faramond,” she bellowed at the top of her lungs, while pounding on his back.

  “Nay, I shall not. I warned you to behave yourself and yet you still defied me,” he growled out.

  Shoved into a cell, she stumbled once more and fell upon a straw matt laid out on the filthy floor. A puff of dust went airborne when her backside made contact with what was considered a bed. Faramond slammed the iron door shut before she could scurry forward to stop him. Turning the key, he locked her in her prison cell. She quickly made her way to the bars to give them a shake, as though by some miracle they would open because she willed it.