Creating Memories - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 6)

by Shea,Lisa

  Storm steeled herself to be strong. She was out of her prison and out of the keep. There was still hope.

  Chapter 24

  Apparently Much wanted to take his time with his first attack on her, or maybe her father had felt one small iota of paternal instinct and insisted on this as part of their agreement. Whatever the reason, Storm found herself blessedly alone all night as the wagon slowly creaked and bounced its way down the forest path. She was tied up and gagged, but other than that she was left to her own devices. The wagon’s movement was the only sound she heard.

  They could not move quickly in the darkness, but apparently they had no desire to stop for any length of time in the woods. They took short breaks every few hours to rest and swap the animals, but other than that the wagon and outriders continued doggedly along their course.

  Storm allowed herself to sleep, conserving her energy, but she only got a few hours of restless dreams in before she was awake again. Night warmed into day, and Storm’s captors brought her food and drink at regular intervals. She was allowed out to walk around for a short while every few hours, to stretch her legs and relieve herself. She was guarded at all times. The leg chain was kept securely on her, held like a leash by one of the men. Still, she used the time to recover strength in her legs.

  While the wagon rolled, she did what exercises she could. She pressed her arms against each other. She pressed her feet against the walls of the wagon. She was going to be as ready as she could be when the moment was right.

  Darkness came on again, and exhaustion overcame her. She was nearly at the point of drifting away, lulled to sleep by the rolling wheels, when she heard an odd sound.

  Whoo – Whoo - Whoo.

  It sounded like an owl … but it was not. Owls did not call out in even, repeated triplicate like that.

  Her hopes rose. Could it be …

  The back of the wagon’s flap drifted open for a moment, and a dark shape slipped into the cart. The sallow guard looked up from his whittling in alarm, preparing to raise a cry – and was immediately silenced by Falcon’s sword slicing across his neck. In a heartbeat Falcon was at her side, his eyes gazing into hers, deep with concern and care. He gently pulled free her gag.

  Storm was lost in his gaze. Her heart pounding, love and passion cascading over her in waves. “I thought I had lost you,” she whispered, her throat tight.

  His hand moved shakily to stroke her hair, and he leant his forehead against hers for a long moment.

  “I have lost faith in you three times now, and each time I have been proven wrong,” he murmured hoarsely. “I swear I shall never doubt you again.”

  There was a noise from outside, and he turned with a quick motion, raising his sword in a protective move. “We have to go. Are you ready?”

  Storm motioned down to her leg which had the thick leather cuff on it. Falcon followed her gaze and started, his eyes flashing in anger. His eyes adjusted more fully to the dark, and they went to the ropes now visible at her arms and legs. He began with those, carefully slicing her free. Then he eyed the tight leather cuff with concern.

  Storm scrambled awkwardly over to her chest. The dagger was right on top. She sat back, setting to work with the narrow, sharp blade, cautiously wiggling its thin shape in between her ankle and cuff. She sawed her way through the binding with small movements. It took a few heart-stopping moments, but it finally fell free with only a soft clatter.

  Falcon moved toward Storm’s small box and nodded with recognition. He grabbed it up with one hand, settling it beneath his arm. Storm slid her knife into her belt. When she was ready, Falcon helped Storm toward the back of the wagon. They peered out. The night was inky black – the moon had set and they could barely see the horsemen who rode guard several paces behind the wagon’s tail.

  “Can you do this silently?” whispered Falcon in concern. “I have men with me, but it would be better -”

  Storm nodded shortly. “I can do it,” she promised resolutely. She would manage, even if it meant her legs throbbed in searing agony.

  Falcon watched the ground until they came to a patch of dry, barren earth. Then he gently tugged at Storm, and the two let themselves down from the wagon. Storm bit back a cry as her weakened legs landed on the hard ground. Immediately the pair slipped to the side of the path and into the forest. They crouched down there, still as field mice, waiting with held breath while the rest of the wagon train passed them by. Only when the turning wheels and hoofbeat were a faded memory did they relax.

  Falcon still did not allow his voice to rise above a faint whisper. “What was their pattern yesterday? Would they …” he hesitated, then forced himself to continue. “Would he come to you by night?”

  Storm shook her head no, and then realized that he might not be able to see the motion in the dark. “They would not disturb me until morning, for breakfast. We have many hours before they realize I am gone.”

  Falcon exhaled in relief, then stood. He called out with his soft hoot several times. In a moment, five of his men came up to find the pair, trailing enough horses for everyone. Storm recognized John, David, and Shawn in the party, and nodded her grateful thanks to them.

  Falcon brought forward a horse for Storm, and she was pleased to see that Mercury was as eager to see her as she was to see him. She mounted in an instant. Soon the group was riding back as quickly as they could through the darkened trail toward the keep.

  If Storm had been on the verge of exhaustion before in the wagon, then she was the walking dead by the time they approached the outer walls the next afternoon. Her eyes were having trouble focusing. When the horses came to stop in the courtyard, it was all she could do to stay in her saddle.

  Falcon was beside her in a moment, helping her down and then carrying her to her room. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 25

  Storm awoke to the familiar surroundings of her room in Falcon’s keep. She lay in bed for a long while, wondering how everything seemed the same, while everything was now so different. She knew her entire past – even parts of her past which had been hidden to her all these years. She knew now that Falcon was free to love her and marry her. He had been betrothed to her this entire time.

  She also knew that the truce he was hoping to achieve with this marriage was not worth the paper it was written on.

  It seemed a fine mix of ironies.

  A soft knocking sounded at the door, and then Falcon came into the room carrying a tray of breakfast food. He closed the door behind him, sliding the bolt in place. Storm looked up in alarm, but he shook his head reassuringly at her.

  “No, there is no reason yet to fear any attack,” he soothed as he moved around to the side of the bed. “I just would like to have time to talk with you, uninterrupted by any messengers or maids.”

  He settled down on the stool, sitting by her head, and helped her pull herself up to a seated position. Storm’s stomach fluttered with nervousness as she tried to force herself to eat a few items. She knew she should be starving, but having Falcon’s serious eyes on her caused all of her old fears to surface.

  What was he thinking about? How did he feel?

  Falcon waited patiently for her to finish eating, then moved the tray to the foot of the bed before returning to sit by her side. He took her hands in his own and met her gaze with his. His deep, brown eyes seemed bottomless.

  “I want you to be honest with me, Storm. I can accept any truthful feeling or deed. We can get through anything life throws at us as long as we have that trust.”

  He paused, then continued hoarsely, “When you first came here, did you have any memories of your past? Was your amnesia an act?”

  Storm exhaled deeply. If what he wanted was honesty, then that was something she would gladly provide. “I swear, on my mother’s grave, there was no falsehood on my part” she responded with equal sincerity. “Every word I told you, every memory I shared, was exactly as it occurred to me. I did not have any idea of my true backgroun
d until my father stood before me in your hall.”

  Falcon let out his breath and raised her hand to his lips. “I believe in you.”

  His eyes held hers. “Three times, now, I have doubted your intentions. First, when you arrived at our keep. Your skills with the blade, your interests in our defensive structures, all seemed to support the idea that you were working with the bandits.”

  He flushed and looked down. “Second, that afternoon in the clearing. When you offered yourself to me, all I could think of was how Sheila had done the same thing. How it had been a deliberate act designed to manipulate me. It took me a long night of soul-searching to accept that you honestly had fallen in love with me as much as I had you.”

  His eyes drew back up to meet hers. “Finally, that day in the tower, when you cried so heartbreakingly. I knew at that moment how much I adored you – and the strength of my feelings again brought me back to Sheila. I recalled how she had planned her deception so carefully; how she had made that scene the cornerstone of her plot. But Sheila’s pivotal scene had hinged on a true event – that is what gave it its power.”

  His lips pressed. “My mind searched for how yours could be true, and suddenly I remembered that there had been controversy swirling around Laura’s mother’s death. Laura had been that same age at the time.”

  He drew Storm’s hands within his own. “Suddenly all the pieces had fallen into place. Your skills with the knife. Your interest in the keep. It struck me with full force that you were not with the bandits – you were with Lord Walker. You were planning a final assault from the inside.”

  Storm gazed at him, fully open to him, holding nothing back. “I swear to you, I am completely innocent of any deceptions. I have always been utterly truthful with you.”

  He was caught in her eyes, and he slowly nodded. “That is what makes this so amazing. I doubted, and I looked for hidden meanings, and I fought against my heart’s desire.” He ran a shaking hand down the side of her cheek, and she nuzzled against the warmth. “I hereby release those memories of the past, the ones which held me back, which twisted and filtered what I was seeing. I will start afresh with you, and together we will create our own memories.”

  His eyes held hers. “Storm, I love you.”

  Storm’s world shimmered into crystal clarity. Her eyes were transfixed by his. Her ears echoed with the words, drawing them deep into her soul and wrapping them around her heart.

  He loved her.

  Falcon seemed to move in slow motion; he pressed his lips to her hand for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.

  “For so long we both struggled against the idea of marrying who we imagined our mate to be. But when we had the reality of one another, I could feel the power of our bond in every glance, in every touch.” He gave a wry grin. “Perhaps we owe the bandits, and your father, a debt of gratitude. They helped us to get past our misconceptions.”

  He slipped down onto one knee, and Storm’s heart leapt into her throat. Only a few hours ago she had been desperately hoping for Falcon to forgive her. It was only the faintest of dreams that he …

  “Storm, I will not risk your father pulling you away from me again. Will you marry me?”

  Storm slid her hand into his thick locks and pulled him down onto her body, murmuring yes against his lips even as he kissed her, even as he pressed himself to her. He loved her. Against all hope, against all wild chance, he was by her side. They would be together forever. Her body glowed with joyous brilliance.

  Falcon pulled himself away with a last gasp of self-control, his breath coming in ragged heaves. “We have made it this far; let us get married immediately and do this properly. I will send immediately for the parish priest, if you are willing …?”

  A broad smile stretched across Storm’s lips. “Oh so willing, My Lord,” she breathed, her eyes shining with passion.

  Groaning, Falcon nearly gave in to her offer. Instead, with a fierce effort, he turned and strode to the door. Unbarring it and opening it, he called out for a messenger.

  Mary came running in when the news spread, bustling Falcon out of the room.

  “It is bad luck for the groom to see the bride on her wedding day!” she exclaimed as she closed the door behind him.

  Storm burst out in a gale of laughter. After everything else that had happened, that was the least of her worries.

  Mary left for a moment, then returned with a gorgeous sapphire-blue dress, rich with fine embroidery. Storm’s mouth hung open at the beautiful creation.

  “Carol made this for you,” explained Mary with a grin. “She never had a chance to present it to you when you left, and when she heard that you had returned yesterday, she immediately brought it over.”

  “What could I have done to deserve this gift?” asked Storm in shock, looking over the fine construction of the dress. The details were exquisite, more intricate even than many of the dresses that Jessica had worn.

  “Ironically enough, it was because of her niece, Jessica,” explained Mary with a smile. “Carol had heard from the keep staff how much you tried to be kind to her, even with the way Jessica treated you and the others. Carol appreciated your efforts, even if they were in vain. Not many would have even attempted to be cordial.”

  Storm looked up at this, a thought crossing her mind. “Is Jessica still in the building?” She wondered with worry if Jessica had yet another trick up her sleeve to cause unpleasantness in the coming hours.

  Mary shook her head, her eyes sharpening. “There is a tale to tell there. It turns out Jessica knew who you were – she had known it since she went to visit her father.”

  Storm turned in shock. “She knew? Why did she not tell me?”

  Mary nodded. “You would think so, but instead, she actively pushed Falcon more strongly to have you leave. It seems she figured that you had resisted the marriage so strongly before, that as long as she could keep you out of his reach, you would go home, regain your memory, and renew your resistance there. In the meantime, Falcon might never realize you were the person pledged to him.”

  Storm thought through the options. “I imagine she was worried that Falcon, who had already resigned himself to marrying Laura Walker, would be more set on doing so once he knew it was me. So she could not just tell him the truth.”

  Mary sat down beside Storm on the bed. “I agree. When she could not convince Falcon to send you away, she had to risk the truth. She confronted Falcon the evening before you were to go – saying that she had discovered a traitor. She revealed that you were in fact Laura Walker, here explicitly to learn the keep’s secrets in preparation for an assault.”

  Mary paused, then continued more quietly. “Apparently Jessica’s tactic was bolstered by his suspicion that you were Laura.”

  Storm’s mind thought back to those days. “That is what he was doing,” she agreed softly. “He was testing my skills against those Laura would have.”

  Mary sat to brush out Storm’s hair. “Even when he became convinced that you were Laura, he still believed that you had amnesia. Falcon and Jessica fought fiercely about it the night before the Walkers arrived. Jessica told him the proof would be how you behaved when you were confronted with the group. She stated that your falsehood would never hold up in their presence, and that you would revert to knowing them.”

  Storm’s eyes sharpened in anger. “I did have amnesia,” she insisted hotly. “It was seeing them that triggered my memories’ return!”

  Mary shushed her, gently pulling through the knots. “That is exactly what Falcon said. Jessica insisted that you were a liar and a traitor. Once you left, they got into a huge row which lasted an entire afternoon.”

  Her eyes shadowed. “Finally, Falcon said that he would go after you, to learn the truth. Jessica claimed that it was too late – that you were to be given to her father to be ‘gentled.’ You should have seen his face. Once she said that, there was no stopping him. He immediately gathered a group and headed out.”

&nb
sp; Mary shook her head at the memory. “The moment he was out the gate, Jessica gathered her things and left for her father’s. She has not been seen since.”

  Storm sighed in relief. Whatever machinations Jessica had constructed, she was now gone.

  She took pleasure in Mary’s primps and attentions, and soon she was fully dressed and prepared. As a final touch, she took out the sapphire locket that her mother had given her so many years ago. She had tears in her eyes as she fastened it around her neck.

  A knock sounded on the door – the priest had arrived. Mary and Storm headed down the hall toward the main room.

  It seemed that the entire keep had turned out with only an hour or two’s notice. Falcon waited in the main hall, his leather armor and scabbard freshly oiled and gleaming. Storm’s heart filled with pride. Now that she remembered her own past, her own skill with sword and horse, she was even more sure that Falcon was the perfect match for her. Together, side by side, they would keep their home and its people safe – no matter what came.

  Falcon took her arm, and the group moved en masse toward the small chapel at the side of the main building. Storm’s legs trembled as they walked from the sunlight into the shady recesses by the front steps of the small stone building.

  Storm was floating on a cloud. The courtyard filled quickly with the residents of the keep and the village. Falcon stood by her side at the steps, his face shining with pride and love.

  Everything seemed to move quickly. The priest gave a talk rich with symbolism and meaning, and they recited vows of loyalty and honor. It seemed like only moments before they were pronounced man and wife.

  Then Falcon turned to face her, and the world drew to a stop. He bent down to kiss her. The touch was like nothing she had ever felt before. She was his now, and he belonged to her. Nothing could separate them.

  Together the group headed in to the chapel for a full mass, and Storm did not hear a single word. It seemed a heartbeat before they were exiting in a noisy, cheering throng, heading back into the main hall. A feast was laid out, hastily put together from the kitchens of every woman in the village. It smelled heavenly – but Storm had eyes only for her husband. The hunger which filled every corner of her being was one only he could satisfy.