Warrior's Lady

by Gerri Russell

  Rhiannon was no healer. Assisting in the birth of Charlotte's child did not qualify her for anything more. And yet words to the contrary came out of her mouth. "Take us to him."

  Mistress Faulkner led them to the keep and into the great hall where the injured warrior had been moved.

  "Why did you do it, Rhys?" Orrin asked the man, who stood with the help of two warriors holding onto his arms. His shirt and breeches were wet and soaked in blood, and his hair was a wild wet mass. The man's pale and drawn face made Rhiannon smother a gasp of alarm. She feared it was already too late to do anything for him.

  "I … had … no choice," Rhys said, his breathing raspy and labored. "He … threatened to … kill my son."

  "Who?" Orrin asked, his voice harsh. "Who threatened your child?"

  "The bishop," the dying man whispered.

  A dark frown settled over Orrin's face.

  "Ye must … believe me."

  "I do." Orrin shook his head. "Seems that man's influence has touched many of our lives."

  Rhiannon strode toward the small gathering, curious to know how the injured man had become separated from the others. "Were you one of the warriors fighting with Lord Lockhart?"

  "Nay. I was not with … Lord Lockhart."

  The man brought his glassy gaze to her face. Contrition reflected there. "I'm … sorry. I dinna … help ye. They shouldn't have … tried to burn ye."

  Rhiannon's throat thickened at the mention of her own terror.

  "What do you mean?"

  Orrin spoke for the man. "Because of a threat to his child, this man was forced to help the bishop and his assassin capture you."

  The implications of Orrin's words tumbled through Rhiannon's mind. The bishop had tried to burn her alive? A riot of emotions threatened, but she forced them back, her gaze returning to the injured man.

  "Lay him near the hearth," she commanded the men. "We must help him."

  Orrin signaled the men to move the man to the floor near the warmth of the flames.

  "Bring blankets, strips of linen to bind his wound, and some warmed ale," Rhiannon said with authority, though fearing the residents would ignore her as they always had.

  Much to her surprise, two women stepped forward. One brought a mug with her. The other, thick woolen blankets that she settled about the man's body. A third woman placed a pile of linen next to Rhiannon, who tied long strips tightly around the man's body, trying to stop the flow of blood. When that was done, she brought the rim of the mug of ale to his lips. "Drink." Her gaze slid to the floor beside the man, then to Orrin's watchful gaze. "If we cannot heal him, is there anything we can do to make him more comfortable?"

  "We could use the Charm Stone," Violet said.

  A collective gasp echoed through the hall. All eyes turned to the little girl who moved to stand beside the dying man.

  Orrin knelt, staring into her face. "What do you know of the Stone?"

  "Mummy told me stories. She said our family had a duty to heal our people. That when the time came, I should not fear my destiny."

  Orrin's eyes turned hard, expressionless. "Using the Stone could be dangerous for anyone. More so for a child. No one wants you to bear the same burden as your mother."

  "The Stone is good," Violet protested. "It's the bad men who want it who are dangerous." She tugged on Rhiannon's hand. "I know where Uncle Camden hid the Stone."

  Rhiannon knelt beside Violet, studying her determined face. "How do you know where it is?"

  She lifted her chin with pride. "I watched him hide it in the chapel after you helped Charlotte deliver her baby."

  Rhiannon startled. The packet she had delivered from Mother Agnes had contained the Charm Stone? Had she known at the time, she would have been terrified. Rhiannon frowned. The bishop had demanded the Stone from her before she'd nearly been burned alive.

  The Charm Stone.

  Was that how Charlotte and her baby had survived the difficult birth? Rhiannon's gaze dropped to her feet. Was the Charm Stone also the reason her burns and blisters had healed so quickly?

  Over the years she'd heard of the magical healings performed throughout their country, but she never thought they were true.

  Apparently the stories were real. As was the danger to Violet if she used the Stone to heal this man. "Nay, Violet. This isn't a good idea. Especially not while your uncle is away."

  Violet pulled her hand away from Rhiannon's. She frowned down at Rhys. "I can help you. But you must promise to never harm anyone ever again."

  "I … promise." Rhys' fingers trembled as he raised them from the floor, trying to touch Violet's hand. But he was too weak. His dirty and bloody hand collapsed against the stone of the hearth.

  Rhiannon met Orrin's gaze, registered the uncertainty there. "Lord Lockhart will not like this," Rhiannon said.

  "I will bear his displeasure if he does not," Orrin said. "Lady Violet, show me where the Stone is hidden."

  Rhiannon followed Orrin and Violet up the stairs and down the hallway to the chapel. The chapel's three narrow windows sent streams of hazy light into the small chamber. Violet crossed the room, and the play of sunlight and shadow shifted on her form as she approached the wooden crucifix that hung against the far wall. She slipped her fingers between the wall and the wood, and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in linen.

  Violet unwrapped the sacred stone, allowing the linen protection to tumble to the floor. She held her prize from a short silver chain. At the end dangled a silver circle. A small bloodred stone at the center winked in the filtered sunlight as if in greeting.

  Was the Charm Stone a prize worth dying for? Rhiannon stared at the Stone, transfixed.

  "It has always amazed me that something so small can hold so much power," Orrin said, reaching for the Stone.

  Violet tugged the Stone out of his grasp. "We need to help the man."

  "Do you know how to use it, Violet?" Rhiannon held out her hand to the girl, lending her more support than guidance.

  "Mummy never showed me. But I have to try." Violet took her hand.

  Anxiety filled Rhiannon as they made their way back to the great hall. A low rumble of sound greeted them when they reached the chamber. Rhiannon paused at the bottom of the stairs. The room had filled with people come from all corners of the castle. They conversed with each other excitedly.

  Violet's grip tightened on her hand. She buried herself in the fabric of Rhiannon's skirt. "Why are they here?" she whispered.

  "Curiosity I would imagine." Rhiannon kept moving slowly forward. "It will be all right. Keep the Stone hidden."

  From across the room, Mistress Faulkner spotted them and hurried to greet them.

  "Is there no way to put the man somewhere more private? If news of this gets out — Lady Violet could be in terrible danger," Rhiannon said, her anxiety growing.

  "Since James and Clara's deaths and Lord Lockhart's return with her body, there has been talk among the staff about the Charm Stone and its connection to the Lockhart clan. Everyone wants to witness the magic that cost Lady Clara her life. Those who have seen the Charm Stone used before say there is no witchcraft involved. Those who haven't want to see it for themselves." Mistress Faulkner's gaze narrowed on Rhiannon. "If you know what's good for you, you'll not turn them away. They wish to be present during a miracle."

  "This is not wise," Orrin said from right behind them.

  "Do we have another choice?" Rhiannon asked, wanting his advice more than ever.

  "With so many of our warriors gone, there are not enough of us left to enforce rule should they grow restless." He eyed the growing crowd. "But I'm not sure insisting on privacy is the better choice. The Stone was spoken of — and they want to see it in practice."

  "Heaven help us, for Lady Violet doesn't know how to use the Stone."

  "I know its secrets," Orrin said, escorting them through the crowd to the hearth. "The Stone should be dipped into a mug of liquid three times then swirled to the right. Lady Lockhart always ended each us
e by making the sign of the cross over the body she'd just healed."

  Rhiannon knelt down beside Rhys who lay so still before the hearth. Blood seeped from his newly bandaged wound. She pressed a thick length of linen atop the bandages, hoping to further slow the bleeding. "There's no incantation? No ceremony?"

  "None."

  She frowned. "How is any of that considered witchcraft?"

  "It's not." He scooted Violet toward the man. "Be done with this thing before they realize what you are doing."

  Rhiannon nodded at Violet's questioning gaze. Rhiannon grabbed the mug of ale the women had brought to the man "We must hurry, Violet. Do as Orrin instructed."

  The little girl nodded. She bent over the mug of wine. Quickly, she withdrew the Stone from her gown. She dipped the Charm Stone in the amber-colored liquid three times, then swirled the talisman to the right. Once done, she made the sign of the cross over the man as her mother had done. She wiped the Stone on her hem, then handed it to Rhiannon who tucked the Stone safely into a small pocket inside her gown's skirt.

  Someone in the room must have noticed the movements near the hearth. A shout went out across the room, "Prepare for a miracle."

  A hush settled over the great hall. With fingers trembling at the audacity of what they dared, Rhiannon brought the mug of ale to the man's lips. "Drink, Rhys." She'd heard Orrin call him by that name. "You must drink."

  Rhys tried to lift his head, but could not. Every eye in the chamber rested on her, Rhiannon slipped her hand beneath Rhys' head. She lifted both the cup and the man's head until the two connected and forced the "charmed" liquid past his lips. He swallowed roughly before a spasm of coughing overtook him. Several tense moments passed before he ceased coughing. Blood trickled out his nose and down his chin.

  The room was cloaked in silence, as if no one dared to make a sound for fear that the Charm Stone would somehow fail them.

  "You must take more liquid," Rhiannon pleaded softly for his ears alone, forcing the liquid past his lips once more. This time he swallowed smoothly. He took another sip, then another until the liquid was gone. Rhiannon sat back.

  "What happens now?" Violet asked from her perch near Rhiannon.

  "We wait," she replied, forcing a reassuring smile.

  "How long?

  "As long as it takes." She patted the young girl's hand with confidence even as doubts plagued her. The man was so close to death. Could anything save him?

  "Give it time."

  Time was something this man did not have. Yet time itself seemed to stretch out endlessly before them as they waited, watched, and prayed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  By late afternoon many of the castle's residents had given up witnessing a miracle. One by one, they wandered away to return to their daily routines until only Rhiannon, Violet, Orrin, Hamish, Travis, and Rhys remained near the hearth. Hamish and Travis sat at a table to the side the hearth, keeping watch as they always did. Rhiannon had to admit that in Camden's absence, the warriors' presence made her feel more at ease. They would protect her and Violet should something happen.

  Violet yawned. She tugged on one of her long golden curls, pulling it straight, then releasing it to watch it spring back to its original shape.

  The others waited. And waited. "How long will this miracle take?" Rhiannon asked, growing restless.

  "He was almost dead," Orrin said, stretching his legs before him as he lounged on a bench that he'd dragged near the fire.

  When the man did not revive right away, they had arranged for a pallet to be brought for his bed. He lay silently against the heather stuffed ticking. Despite the fact that the grayness had vanished from his face and his bleeding had stopped, Rhiannon was amazed the man yet lived.

  She shifted her gaze from the man to Orrin. "Have you seen healings before?"

  "Only a few that Lady Lockhart performed while traveling with her husband."

  "What happened?"

  Orrin repositioned his long legs once again. "Much the same as this. At first nothing happened. Later, the person would wake up and be as they were before they were injured or sick."

  "Is there no memory of the healing?"

  "Oh, they remember." Orrin shuddered. "Two of the people I witnessed said they experienced excruciating pain while awake."

  Rhiannon returned her gaze to Rhys. "Then 'tis best he sleeps." She brought her fingers up, her turn to gently tug on Violet's curl. The girl squirmed on Rhiannon's lap. "Perhaps it is also best if you head upstairs to change your clothing before supper."

  Violet grabbed her curls in a playful attempt to keep them out of Rhiannon's reach. "Why do I always have to change my clothes?"

  "Because you are a lady, and because I believe Mistress Faulkner has completed another dress for you to wear."

  Violet released her hair and pouted. "But you never change."

  Now that Violet had grown more settled in the castle, signs of her true intelligence had blossomed. Rhiannon pursed her lips while she considered how to respond. How could she explain the fact that she was not a lady in title in such a way that Violet would understand? She decided the best way to explain such a thing was to not explain at all. Tousling the child's golden curls, she said, "That's because I have only one dress."

  Instantly Violet's playfulness vanished. "That is my fault." She turned and buried her face in Rhiannon's chest. "I wouldn't let you wear my mummy's dresses."

  "Nay," Rhiannon said, bringing the girl's tear-filled gaze to her face. "It is not your fault. Your mother's dresses belong to you. When you get older you can choose to wear them or not. Had I known it was her gown when I put it on, I never would have done it."

  Violet sniffed.

  "Would you like to help me make us each a new dress tomorrow?"

  The girl's face brightened. "Should we use your bed curtains or mine?"

  Rhiannon chuckled, relieved that the girl's mood had shifted so quickly. "Before we attack the bed curtains again, go ask Mistress Faulkner if she has any more stored fabric."

  Violet nodded, then darted up the stairs, followed by Hamish and Travis.

  "Why did you really send her away?" Orrin's brows arched.

  A heavy mantle of grimness settled over Rhiannon. "We need to move the man somewhere less public. If the Charm Stone's healing fails, I don't want Lady Violet to witness his death. She's been so happy as of late. What if he dies and she thinks it's her fault? Her nightmares have finally just started fading."

  "Just as Camden's are becoming more regular," Orrin said with a frown.

  "He has nightmares?" Rhiannon asked.

  Orrin nodded. "He used to have them often when we were enslaved in the Holy Lands."

  "He told me about that time." She shook her head. "I still cannot believe that you both—"

  "We both learned to survive," he said, cutting off whatever sympathy she might have offered. "Stay with Rhys while I gather a few men to transfer him. With the other warriors gone, we've extra pallets in the rooms above the stable." He stood. "There are guards at the door. You should be safe here for the short time I will be gone."

  Rhiannon watched him go, leaving her alone with Rhys in the great hall. The flames in the fireplace licked greedily at the logs. A crackle and hiss pressed against the silence. Why had Orrin told her such a private detail about Camden's life? The information seemed a little too convenient. What did Orrin have to gain from her knowing such information? She released an exasperated sigh. Nothing.

  Before she could consider other possibilities, the door to the great hall creaked open. Rhiannon could feel a presence, but could not see who was there. "Orrin?" she asked.

  Silence.

  Camden? She shot to her feet, her heart thundering in her chest. Had he returned so soon?

  A dark shadow fell across the entrance to the great hall. "Not Orrin, my dear."

  She could feel the blood drain from her face as she beheld Bishop Berwick in the doorway. "How did you get past the guards?"

  "Holy
men can do many things that regular mortals cannot." As he came into the light, she could see he was dressed in the dark brown robes of a monk.

  That voice. She could not stop the chill that raced down her spine as recognition flared. That voice had ordered her to be burned alive. "You are no holy man."

  "Your opinion of me matters not." His face contorted with disgust, then quickly shifted to benign superiority. "I am on a mission for the Church and I will not be distracted from my purpose."

  "It would be impossible for you to slip past the guards at the gate, the wall breach, or even the door to the keep without help. Who helped you?"

  He ignored her. "I've heard rumors of witchcraft being performed here this day." He continued to stride forward until he stood an arm's length from her. "The Church will have none of it. Such behaviors are punishable by death."

  "There has been no witchcraft practiced today or any other day."

  He held out his hand with its gold insignia ring for her to kiss. When she remained where she stood, irritation clouded his face.

  "What do you want?" Where was Orrin? Where was anyone?

  "I've come for the girl and the Stone. My sources assure me Lady Violet did indeed attempt witchcraft to try to bring a man back from the dead." His gaze dropped to the pallet on which Rhys lay.

  Frustration and rage rose within Rhiannon, but she fought desperately to control her temper. "I will never hand the child over to you for punishment or anything else."

  "No one is here to save you this time." He moved past her toward the stairs. Determination gleamed in his eyes.

  "I don't need anyone to save me or Lady Violet." Lightning swift, she grasped an iron skillet from the cooking bench near the hearth. She lunged for him and swung the pan with all her might. It hit the side of his head with a resounding thump. The man's eyes flared. He swayed on his feet, then fell to the ground.

  "Stay away from Violet," Rhiannon breathed as the man crumpled at her feet. A trickle of blood flowed from his forehead down across his face. The door of the great hall flew open, hitting the wall opposite with a thud, and Orrin charged into the room with a group of warriors. "Mistress Rhiannon?"