Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2)

Home > Other > Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) > Page 43
Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) Page 43

by Sherry Ewing


  ’Twas not much, but it had been hers, and he had taken special care of her items, since Katherine had asked him to put them somewhere safe. He opened something she had called a notebook and scanned the pages of her writing of a story of some kind. He could almost hear her laughter, as when she had told him ’twas a proper historical romance with a happily-ever-after ending. Pens, a wrapper from that sweet she called candy and did not have the heart to throw away, and something she said was a plastic container waited his inspection. He twisted the thing she called a cap and smiled in bliss as her flowery fragrance rose pleasantly to his nose. He closed it quickly, not wishing for the creamy lotion to spill from the strange bottle.

  He thought on her machine, called a phone, she had given to Juliana, and how they had made their moving image appear on such a marvelous device. Katherine had shown him such incredible modern devices she had stashed inside that object named a purse, although, for her sake, they had destroyed the majority of its contents. Riorden hoped that at least the return of the phone had given her mother some sense of peace, knowing her daughter had been happy...at least for a while. He surmised, as far as those in the future were concerned, he along with everyone else he knew were already long since dead.

  He supposed that in the greater structure of life, Time had once again played a cruel joke on them all. He wiped at his desolate eyes, put everything back in place, and went to stretch himself out on her side of their bed. He could still smell her scent on her pillow and, again, could not help but wonder how long ’twould remain. He felt something above his head and clutched at the fabric, wondering what she had been hiding. ’Twas a tiny garment for the babe she carried, and obviously she had been attempting to knit the item herself. ’Twas not perfect, but she had done a fine job, considering she was not one to take needle and thread in hand.

  He closed his eyes, and in his grief he could see her, as if ’twere but yester eve that they were happy lying here in this room, side by side. Heads together, they had whispered their deepest secrets and prayers for their child. They had laughed, thinking on all the years they would spend together. If he only knew then what he knew now, including how brief their time truly would be, he could have changed events so this torment he now felt would not come to pass.

  He at last began to drift off to sleep, thinking of his sweet Katherine. But ’twas the voice of his father, whispering to him to take his ease, that was his last conscious thought. With the rise of the new day, his agony and torment would begin all over again.

  Chapter 23

  “I’m so sorry, Ella, but do you suppose we could stop again, please?” Katherine asked while she plopped herself down on a log. Her borrowed shoes came off, and she began rubbing her sore, tired feet. Blisters were raw on the back of her heels, and she had the ungodly feeling she wouldn’t be able to walk much farther tonight. Not that they were making much progress, traveling under the evening sky. How long had they been gone?

  Ella came to her, took one look at her oozing sores, and promptly set to work pulling this and that out of the bag she carried. She began mixing dried herbs together and then began looking around on the ground until she picked something up.

  Katherine was appalled at what the woman was handling, as if it wasn’t anything unusual to pick up off the ground. “Is that animal poop?”

  Ella looked at her as if she had lost her senses. “The scat is a known cure for healing wounds and holding a poultice together. ’Twill not harm you,” Ella answered and began smearing the concoction on Katherine’s feet.

  “I don’t know about its healing effects, but that’s just so disgusting, Ella,” Katherine replied, but she had to admit, it did take the sting out. She was sure it had more to do with the herbs than the dung she was trying not to think about. Looking down at her feet, Katherine didn’t have a clue how she would ever get those shoes of torture back on again.

  Ella wiped her hands and then came to sit next to Katherine. “’Tis clear we will not travel farther this night. I am sorry the shoes did not fit better, and they are causing you pain.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ella, and it was better than going barefoot all the way to Berwyck. I wonder how far we still need to travel.” Katherine pondered with a yawn.

  Ella scooted down so the log was to her back and she appeared as comfortable as one could get, given the situation. Katherine came to join her. “Several days at the least, mayhap more,” Ella answered while she stared into the darkened forest.

  Katherine let out a heavy sigh. She was so tired, but she refused to close her eyes, knowing what she would see if she did so.

  “You cannot go without sleep forever, Katherine,” Ella said, as if reading her thoughts. “You do neither yourself, nor the babe any good without a proper rest.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “I told you we should have stayed in the cave longer than two days’ time,” Ella muttered.

  Katherine gazed at her new friend. She could still envision herself standing on the bank of the river, looking with such longing at the castle off in the distance. All she had wanted was for one last glimpse of what would never be before she turned her back on it forever. “I just couldn’t stay that close in the shadow of Warkworth, knowing they were together,” Katherine finally managed to say. “It was best for my peace of mind that we left when we did.”

  “I did not agree with you then, nor do I agree with your decision now. It certainly was not for the best, at least for your health,” grumbled Ella. “You are most stubborn! Someone surely must have told you that a time or two in your young life, I suspect.”

  Katherine gave a small smile. “Yes...once or twice.”

  Ella peered at her, or so it seemed in the moonlight, since they wouldn’t light a fire this night. “There is much more to your story, I think, than you are telling me, Katherine,” Ella surmised.

  Katherine lowered her eyes. “Oh? Why do you think so?”

  “Well, your speech for one. I have never heard anyone have speech as you do,” Ella said, tilting her head as if she was determining the truth to the pretense that she lived abroad. “Why do I have the feeling that when I gaze upon you, that I am looking at an old soul?”

  “A what?”

  “An old soul...one who is older than one gives the impression of being from one’s outward appearance.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Ella. I’m only twenty-six, for goodness sake.”

  Ella shrugged when she spoke of her age. “If you say so, dear.”

  Katherine became lost in her own thoughts, knowing she was so easily read by some. She turned to Ella and looked her in the eye but could only see someone who had been completely honest with her. Coming to the conclusion she could trust this woman with her life, she decided her story would be safe with Ella. “What if I were to tell you that I come from a very long distance from here?”

  “That would still not account for how I see you. Many travel abroad and make their home far from where they were raised. Alliances are made through marriage, girls marry young and travel great distances to live as chattel to their husbands. ’Tis nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Yes, but I’m not talking about the distance of how one travels by foot, horse, or ship. I’m from a place farther than that, and I came here for a purpose.”

  “You confuse me. How can you be from a place not accessible by horse or ship?” Ella asked with her brows furrowed together as though she was trying to figure it out.

  Katherine took a deep breath. “I’m from the future, the twenty-first century to be exact.”

  Ella only stared at her as though she had lost her mind, and Katherine couldn’t blame her in the least. She supposed it was a lot for anyone, including a twelfth century woman, to comprehend.

  Ella suddenly began to laugh. “You but jest with me, Katherine.” Her laughter quickly faded when Katherine did not join in on the fun. Ella began to peer at her strangely with tight-knit brows. “Could it be possible?” she whispered, so softly Kathe
rine strained to hear her words.

  Katherine reached out and took Ella by the hand, hoping she wouldn’t scare the hell out of this medieval woman who had been so kind to her. “Let me tell you a story of unbelievable proportions. It’s a tale that stretches the imagination, and makes you wonder if all things are possible.”

  “Mayhap, ’tis good I am sitting,” Ella replied carefully as she continued her strange assessment of Katherine.

  Katherine wondered if Ella was about to start making the sign of the cross or if the woman was trying to figure out if her new friend was insane. Instead, Ella just sat there, patiently waiting for Katherine to tell her and Riorden’s story.

  “It all begins with a young woman who dreams every night of a knight in shining armor coming to her on the battlements of Bamburgh Castle. He is tall and handsome, his dark blue cape billows in the breeze with a lion head imprinted on his tabard. And his eyes,” Katherine sighed in remembrance of how much she loved the man, “are the eyes of the bluest blue. Everything about him is the stuff that dreams are made of to fulfill a woman’s deepest romantic desire.”

  Into the night, Katherine weaved her tale that, to some, would be so farfetched, she would either be burned at the stake, or welcomed into a hall as its newest bard. But with its telling, Katherine relived every glorious moment with her husband; how their dreams were interwoven while the centuries kept them apart; seeing him in the portrait and learning his name and the emotions that had come over her when she did; running down the tower stairs with Juliana, Emily, and Brianna, and being hurtled back through time; his touch...that magical first time when he took hold of her, despite the fact she had sliced her fingers on his sword; their anger at one another that only brought them closer; and the first time they had made love.

  Their romance and how they fell in love spilled out, even to the last dream that had broken them apart, leaving her more bereft than she had thought was humanly possible.

  “So you see, his betrayal was far worse than just taking a mistress as some men do. It’s as if he killed the part of our love that had withstood the test of time itself...what had brought us together in the first place, and he threw it all away. And for what?” Katherine voiced, and for the first time her anger was the driving force behind her heartache as fresh tears fell from her eyes. “Meaningless sex with a woman he said he didn’t even care for. Men! They are all such liars.”

  “You are most bitter.” Ella noticed, shaking her head, almost as if in understanding. “I suppose, if this phenomenon were to happen to me, I would be the same.”

  “Do you blame me for feeling this way?”

  “Nay, Katherine, I do not. And yet, I have this feeling all is not as it may appear.”

  Katherine folded her arms on her knees and rested her cheek upon them. “It really doesn’t matter at this point how it appears, Ella. He betrayed the love we had between us by taking a lover. No matter the circumstances, or how such a travesty came about, that fact will never change. How would I ever even begin to forgive something like that, no matter how much I still love him?”

  “Then you do still care for him?”

  “Was there any doubt? I’ve loved him all my life, even when I thought he was only a figment of my imagination. Every man I ever met could never measure up to what I found while I was sleeping.”

  “’Tis fairly obvious, Katherine, you still love him. How could you not when you carry his child?”

  “But, how in the world would I ever learn to trust him again if I were to go back?”

  Ella patted Katherine’s back with what comfort she could offer. “Only you can answer that mystery, Katherine, for that would have to come from within your heart.”

  “My heart is devastated beyond repair, I’m afraid,” Katherine mumbled to herself so quietly that her words became lost in the breeze that softly floated by.

  Far into the night, Katherine tried to stay awake, but, in the end, sleep finally took her gently into a restful slumber, and she had the sweetest dreams of Riorden. For in her dreams, Riorden still loved her with all his heart. She could be embraced in the comforting spell they wove together, and she could again become mesmerized by the bluest eyes she would ever find. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to dream, after all.

  Chapter 24

  His lungs were burning; his leg muscles tight from running. His boots crunched the dead, fallen leaves on the forest floor. Winter was fast approaching, and he was more determined than ever to continue his mission to find her afore the snow began to blanket the earth. He called out for her, over and over again. The only answer he ever received was the sound of his own voice resonating in the frigid air.

  His throat was raw from sounding out her name with no response. At last, he could run no farther, and he fell to the ground in hopeless despair, knowing she was lost to him for all time. Vigilant prayers to God had gone unanswered. He had even sunk so low that he pleaded for God to take him as well so he could be with her again. ’Twas a sin, he knew, but how could his life go on without her? His faith, along with their love, was destroyed.

  Knowing he had erred, he wept blinding tears and knew not how to forgive himself. He might as well have killed her himself, along with their unborn child.

  He heard it then, or was it his imagination, the sound of his name being whispered on the winter wind? A mist appeared all around him and gave him the slightest bit of hope. When he saw someone take shape and begin to come towards him, he rubbed his eyes and blinked several times. Knowing she was at last near, he reached for her.

  “Katherine...Forgive me,” he spoke, rising to his knees. She stood afore him, and yet, ’twas as though she stood not at all, but hovered inches above the ground. His beloved wife was a ghost, once more.

  “You betrayed me,” she announced, inside his head. God would not even grant him his deepest wish to hear her voice aloud. Had he truly ruined everything?

  “Aye, Katherine...I am most sorry, for I knew not what I did, but I swear nothing happened between us,” he pleaded for her to understand, but her eyes, those beautiful eyes he had come to love, only gazed down on him with unreserved disappointment.

  “It’s too late for meaningless apologies, and really, all that doesn’t matter anymore, Riorden,” she whispered. Even her voice sounded as despondent as his own tortured soul. “Time has taken me forward to where I’m supposed to be.”

  “You belong with me!” he cried out, desperate to hold on to her at all costs.

  She shook her head. “I belong only to myself, and we will only be but shadows to one another forevermore.”

  “You can come back to me, and I will make all aright with us again. Just give me another chance to win your love.”

  She gave him a sad, thoughtful smile and began reaching out her hand to touch him. He waited, breathlessly, to feel her tender touch. But ’twas not to be, for when she drew near enough to caress his cheek, she changed her mind. He watched, in dismay, whilst her hand dropped lifelessly to her side. His connection to her was fading with each moment they were in each other’s presence. “You did have my love, Riorden. I can never come back for a second time.”

  “Go to Bamburgh and try once more,” he urged.

  She shook her head, yet again, and he watched a tear escape slowly down her cheek. “There is no reason for me to return to Bamburgh. Time will not grant us such a gift twice only for it to be thrown carelessly away again.”

  “I have failed you.”

  “We failed each other, Riorden, for we should have had more faith in what we had found between us. Our love transcended time itself and was something to be cherished. God does not grant such miracles without a purpose in mind.”

  “I shall never see you again...”

  “I have complete faith we will one day find a way to each other, Riorden. Perhaps not in this lifetime, but do not lose hope that you’ll never be with me again.”

  She began to fade from his vision, even whilst he tried to memorize her features. “I love you, Katheri
ne. For all of ever will I love you.”

  “And always remember, I love you, my dearest Riorden. Only for you would I wait an eternity just to be able to love you once more,” she said softly. She began to leave his sight but turned to face him one last time with a bright smile. “Make amends with your father, my love, for he has much he can tell you to ease your suffering...if you would but take the time to listen to him with an open heart.”

  “Katherine! Please stay with me!” he begged of her, but there was no longer any ghostly apparition for him to gaze upon. She was gone, and with her parting, she took what little he had left of his tormented and broken heart.

  * * *

  “Please stay with me!”

  Riorden jerked awake and, with bleary eyes, surveyed his whereabouts. How and when had he managed to make his way to the Garrison Hall? ’Twas obvious no one had come to retrieve his sorry arse from the floor near the now cold hearth. But, it mattered not how he came to be here. ’Twas no more than he deserved.

  His body protested the night spent on the hard stones as he rose and managed to gain his feet afore he stumbled towards the door. He slammed and bounced off the walls and through the arched Lion Tower. Out into the obtrusive sunlight, he continued his wavering stride, squinting as the brightness of the day hurt his head, making it pound most furiously. How could everything appear so normal when there was nothing normal about the life he now led?

  ’Twas obvious he was still drunk and in need of more spirits to dull his pain. He became aware he yet held a flagon in his hands and brought it to his lips, only to find it empty. Tossing it on the ground, he continued to stumble his way to the keep to find more whiskey, for ale or wine would in no way be potent enough to solve the misfortune of his sorry life.

 

‹ Prev