A Knight in Atlantis

by Diana Bold

  “Trevelan?” Sebastian frowned, obviously upset by this new information. “Who is he to you? Your brother? Your husband?”

  “Neither.” She cast about for an explanation he would believe, wondering why she felt so guilty, as though she’d been unfaithful in some way. “He is my friend. We were making our annual trip to the great standing stones on the Salisbury Plain to observe the stars.”

  Best not to mention their mission to explore the remains of Old Atlantis.

  He stared at her for a moment. “Do not lie to me, Rhoswen. I can accept your secrets, but not your lies.”

  “Neither of us intends to harm your people in any way,” she promised, hoping he heard the truth of that in her voice. “He’s a scholar, not a warrior. Please, Sebastian. Don’t let your brother harm him.”

  Sebastian’s anger fled in the face of her gentle request, though he hated that she cared enough about another man to make it. Still, he could not refuse her. He had come too far down this path to turn back now.

  He shoved his hand through his hair and turned away, pacing the length of the room as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he now had two strange, foreign creatures to worry about. Slowly, a plan began to take shape.

  Returning to her side, he offered her a strained smile. “I will speak with my brother. I think I can come up with a believable story, and perhaps he will agree to release your friend. But you must promise me if this does not work—if Simon refuses to listen to me—you will let me help you leave, even if it means leaving your friend behind.”

  Her blue eyes clouded with dismay. “I can’t, Sebastian. I can’t leave without Trevelan, not if he risked his life to help me.”

  He shook his head. “I will not lift a finger for the man if you do not make me this promise.” He cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I do not want anything to happen to you. And there is no point in sacrificing yourself when it will not save him.”

  She bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears. “I can’t leave him. And I don’t think you’d like me very much if I was the sort of person who could.”

  Her words made sense, even contained the sort of honor he tried to apply to his own life, but he still did not like them. “I suppose you are right. If Simon believes my story and agrees to let the two of you go, I will see that your friend is made comfortable and gets some rest in preparation for your journey back to… wherever you came from.”

  “Thank you.” The utter trust in her eyes slew him. She put far too much faith in his ability to work a miracle. He was not at all certain he could reason with Simon and hated that he had to attempt do so on behalf of a man who was obviously his rival for Rhoswen’s affections.

  Chapter Seven

  When Sebastian met his brother in the guard tower, Simon’s face was dark with suspicion. However, he asked no questions, simply pointed toward the stairs. Sebastian followed him down to the dungeons for the second time in less than a sennight, turmoil roiling within him.

  Pausing in front of the first small chamber, Simon gestured inside. “We questioned him for three hours, but he never said a word.”

  A tall, lean man hung shackled to the wall, his pale, nude body mottled with blood and bruises.

  Sebastian schooled his expression to hide his revulsion, glad for the cowl of the heavy robe he had retrieved from Rhoswen. He knew all too well how much strength it took to withstand such pain without cracking.

  Grudging respect built within him.

  The man’s extreme height, blond hair and pale skin marked him a foreigner. A Northman, perhaps? Yet, other than the marks of his recent beating, he bore no scars. Impossible for a warrior to reach manhood without some sort of battle wound.

  Perhaps he was a scholar.

  The man met his gaze with defiant hatred, though he had been hit in the face so many times his pale blue eyes were almost swollen shut. Still not broken, Sebastian thought with reluctant admiration.

  The prisoner had some deep connection to Rhoswen. Sebastian had seen the truth in her eyes. After all Sebastian had shared with her, he could not help feeling betrayed by this man’s very existence.

  It would have been easier to contemplate helping the man if he had been bowed with age or disfigured in some way. As it was, Sebastian found it all too easy to picture Rhoswen in Trevelan’s arms.

  “He will not talk,” Sebastian said, glad the story he had concocted to explain where Rhoswen had come from would still work. He would have been hard pressed to make up another at such short notice. “The maid finally told me all, Simon. Trust me, there is no reason to treat the poor man so harshly.”

  Simon raised a mocking brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

  “He is mute,” Sebastian lied blithely. “He has not spoken because he cannot.”

  A harsh laugh was Simon’s only reply.

  “He is a Danish scholar,” Sebastian continued. “She is his sister. They were on their way to see the great standing stones at Salisbury when you captured her on the beach. I imagine he followed, trying to rescue her.”

  Simon frowned. “This is what she told you?”

  “She was very forthcoming once you left,” Sebastian assured him, tamping down his guilt. His utter certainty that Rhoswen and her friend meant no harm to Hawkesmere’s people justified his lies, but they still did not fall easy from his tongue. “She has kept her silence to protect him. They are not a threat, Simon. The strange instruments she carried were scientific in nature. She explained them to me, and they are not as advanced as we first thought, merely very well crafted.”

  “I want to speak with her,” Simon warned, but Sebastian could see he wanted to believe him. Not only because it made everything much easier, but because he did not want to believe his little brother would lie to him. “I need to hear this with my own ears. I want you to bring her to the Great Hall tonight for dinner, so that I can watch her and speak to her at my leisure.”

  “Of course,” Sebastian agreed with a sinking heart. He had wanted to keep Rhoswen hidden from the rest of Hawkesmere’s people. When she appeared in the hall, she was bound to cause quite a stir.

  He risked a quick glance at Trevelan and found the stranger watching him with a narrowed, speculative gaze. He prayed the fool had enough wits left to keep his mouth shut and not to ruin his story. If he said even one word now, he would put all three of their lives at risk.

  Thankfully, Trevelan seemed to realize what was at stake.

  “Let me care for his wounds and settle him comfortably so he can regain his strength,” Sebastian coaxed. “Then let them go on their way, Simon. We have already inconvenienced them more than enough. Do not become what I spent so many years fighting against.”

  Simon sighed and pinned Sebastian with a fierce look. “I will do this, because you have asked it of me, and you so seldom ask me for anything. But if any of my people should come to harm, I will never forgive you.”

  “Thank you,” Sebastian told him, overwhelmed with relief. “I will take care of everything. You need never worry about them again, I swear it.”

  Frowning, Simon turned toward the door. “Go ahead and cut him down. I will send for the healer and summon a servant to bring you some hot water and bandages. He is in rough shape. He will need every bit of you and Miranda’s combined skill to walk away from here.”

  Sebastian waited until he heard his brother’s footsteps fade away before he cut Trevelan’s bonds. The large, blond man sagged forward, gasping with pain as his weakened limbs took the weight of his body after so many hours bound to the wall.

  Sebastian caught him, wrapping an arm around his waist as he helped him to the narrow cot in the corner of the cell. “Lie down. I mean you no harm.”

  With a soft moan, Trevelan curled up on his side, obviously unable to bear the mattress’ pressure against the wounds on his back. He had been given at least a dozen lashes, and the deep welts were bloody and enflamed. Lying on his stomach probably would not be any easier, because Sebastian feared several of hi
s ribs were broken.

  “Rhoswen is fine, sir,” Sebastian assured the man in a hushed tone. “I appreciate your support of my claim that you were mute. If you had said anything to dispute me, it would have been disastrous.”

  Trevelan merely watched him, and Sebastian began to wonder if the man really was mute. Or perhaps he just did not understand. Foolish to assume the man would be able to speak his language just because Rhoswen could. She might be his interpreter.

  A servant appeared with hot water and bandages, and Sebastian sent the man to gather the herbs and poultices he would need. Miranda, the village healer, would bring her own, but it would take awhile for her to arrive, and Sebastian knew enough of the healing arts to make Trevelan more comfortable.

  When the servant disappeared, Sebastian began cleaning Trevelan’s wounds. His respect for the man grew when Trevelan remained stoic throughout the pain. This strong-willed foreigner was Rhoswen’s equal in a way Sebastian feared he himself could never be.

  All his life, Sebastian had been accused of being far too fair to be a man. He had always hated his looks. People often thought him weak at first glance, made all sorts of erroneous assumptions about his character and sexual practices. After his comely face had caused Sa’id to pick him for his perverted games, Sebastian had even considered disfiguring himself to prevent such a thing from ever happening again.

  But despite Trevelan’s wounds, the man was so handsome Sebastian felt like a troll in comparison. He could not help but wonder if Rhoswen’s sweet passion had all been an act, a desperate attempt to gain Sebastian’s help.

  The thought sobered him, and he wished he had the ability to explore her mind the way she had explored his. He would dearly like to know if all her kisses and touches had been spurred by fear.

  Bloody hell. Just yesterday he had sworn to never take what he wanted, no matter how freely she appeared to give it, in order to keep from becoming like his hated desert master. Already he had gone far past the line he had meant to draw.

  “Rhoswen read my mind,” he told Trevelan, in a half-hearted attempt to explain the situation. “She must have found me worthy of her trust, so I hope you will come to feel the same.”

  “If you have put your filthy hands upon her, I swear I’ll kill you.” When Trevelan finally spoke, his voice was hoarse with disuse, his accent even thicker than Rhoswen’s.

  “I would never force myself on an unwilling maid,” Sebastian said sharply. Trevelan’s reply confirmed that there was more between him and Rhoswen than she had claimed. The man seemed very much the jealous lover. “If you wish, I will allow you to visit with her briefly so you can ask her for yourself.”

  Trevelan’s anger visibly deserted him. “I’ve been so worried. I feared I’d lost her forever.”

  Sebastian could well imagine how hard such a loss would be. “Remember who saved you from such a fate before you make any further unfounded accusations. Do not judge me by my brother’s actions.”

  Trevelan looked as though he would like to say something else, but then he closed his eyes, overcome by either exhaustion or common sense.

  Sebastian sighed and set his supplies aside. He had treated the worst of the damage; he would let Miranda worry about the rest. “If you are feeling up to it, I will help you to a chamber upstairs where you will be more comfortable.”

  “I can make it,” Trevelan replied with mulish certainty.

  Sebastian nodded, and then, with as much patience as he could muster, he urged Trevelan up the endless flights of stairs from the dungeon to the upper warren of small chambers reserved for high-ranking knights and visitors.

  Once Sebastian had settled Trevelan upon his pallet to regain his breath and composure, he posted a guard at his door and went to fetch Rhoswen.

  Chapter Eight

  Rhoswen paced Sebastian’s tower as she waited for him to return. He’d been gone for hours, and she feared his attempts to help her had failed. What if his brother had seen through whatever story he’d chosen to tell and thrown him in the dungeon alongside Trevelan? She didn’t know how she’d live with herself if something happened to him.

  Though she’d only known him a few days, her journey into his mind made him real and dear to her in a way she’d never known before. She’d never experienced this painful longing. When she left, she would miss him.

  She understood how alone he was, how separate from those who surrounded him. He had an amazing mind. If he’d been born in Atlantis and given the benefit of the education he deserved, he would have accomplished great things.

  Perhaps he still could.

  She hoped he would make some great breakthrough, something that would catapult his backward world forward a bit. He might even ensure some future generation of her own people would one day have the chance to walk in the sun.

  She prowled the different levels of the tower as she waited, learning more about him with each chamber she entered. The top level, where he slept, boasted the huge, surprisingly comfortable bed and several trunks filled with treasures from his travels. Fur rugs covered the wooden floors, a welcome departure from the usual filthy rushes his kind used for no fathomable reason. Heavy, striped, blue and silver velvet bed hangings turned his bed into a warm oasis against the Welsh winters.

  His expansive workroom encompassed the second floor. She examined his dozens of half-finished experiments, journals of careful notes, and drawings of different mechanical inventions with a touch of awe.

  Sebastian was a scientist by his very nature.

  She longed to take him to Atlantis and show him the laboratories full of gleaming steel and glass. Oh, how he’d love the orderly rows of instruments and the vast libraries and databases where her people’s knowledge was stored.

  Until she’d met him, she’d never truly appreciated the advantages of growing up in the sparkling city beneath the sea. She’d focused so much time and energy in the pursuit of Surface exploration that she’d stopped appreciating her home.

  Well, all that would change once she got back. The driving desire to make her home on the Surface, which had consumed her for so long, had faded. She wondered if she’d ever be convinced to leave again. The Surface held dangers she’d never imagined.

  Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling of the bottom floor, and tinctures and elixirs lined dozens of shelves. The scope of his knowledge of plants and their possible uses amazed her. In this area, she imagined he could teach her people a thing or two.

  She stared longingly at the cabinet that hid the entrance to the hot springs, but somehow resisted the urge to go below and look for the tunnels that could provide her a means of escape. She couldn’t leave without Trevelan and still couldn't believe he'd really come to her rescue. Perhaps his feelings for her ran deeper than she'd ever imagined.

  Besides, she couldn't betray Sebastian in such a manner, not when news of Trevelan had already given him reason to doubt her. Right now, he risked his very life to save her, had even agreed to help Trevelan, who was a stranger to him. If she left now, she would never forgive herself.

  Her mission to evaluate Old Atlantis had been eclipsed by the more important goal of making sure she and Trevelan both got home with all their secrets intact. Much as it pained her to admit, Sebastian seemed her only hope of accomplishing that.

  Weary of all the useless speculation and worry, she returned to the top floor and burrowed beneath the warm furs and blankets to wait for Sebastian’s return.

  Much later, she finally heard the massive tower door creak open. Hurried footsteps sounded in the stairwell, and then Sebastian strode into his bedchamber, looking as hale and handsome as ever.

  Relief washed through her, and she leapt from the bed, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly. “Oh, Sebastian. I was so worried about you.”

  He tensed for a moment, as though unsure how to handle her exuberance. Then he sighed and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his strong chest. “Everything has been sorted,” he murmured
, his lips very close to her ear. “I have spoken to my brother, and he has agreed to let you and your friend leave.”

  “How did you do that?” She pulled back and stared at him in amazement. “I thought he meant to kill us both as spies.”

  “I lied,” Sebastian admitted grimly. “I told him Trevelan was mute, which was why he had not spoken. I also claimed the two of you were on a pilgrimage to the great standing stones when you became lost on our land.”

  She bit her lip, knowing how much it must have cost him to lie to his brother on her behalf. “Thank you. I do not have the words to express my appreciation for all you’ve done.”

  He shrugged and stepped away. “I could not stand by and do nothing. If either of you had been harmed, I would have been forever haunted.”

  She feared too many ghosts haunted him already.

  “Well, you took a big risk on my behalf, and I am grateful.”

  “I wish I could tell you it was going to be that easy,” he told her grimly. “Part of our bargain was that I bring you to dinner tonight. Simon wants to ask you some questions.”

  She bit her lip, a sharp pang of fear shooting through her. “All right. But you’ll have to tell me what I should say.”

  He gave her a long, searching look. “Would you like to go see your friend? He has been given a room in the tower above the dungeon. He needs his rest, but I think he needs to see that you are all right. I do not think he trusts me.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Rhoswen’s heart swelled with relief. “I would like to see him.”

  She started toward the door, but Sebastian caught her arm. “Perhaps you should change. I doubt the people of Hawkesmere would understand if you were to parade across the bailey in your nightclothes, enchanting and unusual as they might be.”

  Flushing, she folded her arms across her chest. In truth, she hadn’t given any thought to her state of dress. “Of course. Can you tell me where you put the rest of my things?”