Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy)

by Grace Brannigan

  Iliana gripped her hands together. Quickly, she followed him. "I apologize for my behavior," she said.

  He turned to her in surprise.

  She took a deep breath. "I did not plan to attend the fair," she said stiffly. "So there is no need for you to trouble yourself."

  He smiled gently. "I assure you it is no trouble to escort a beautiful young lady to a fair."

  Iliana could not help but notice the way the breeze lifted the fine blond hair from his shoulders.

  "And who better to show me the fair other than yourself?" he queried quite reasonably.

  "Perhaps I could find a few moments this afternoon."

  He nodded. "That is settled then. We shall go together." He fell into step beside her. "Why was there so much activity early this morn? I swear all the young ladies were out before the sun was up."

  "There is a belief that on May Day one should wash one's face in the new morning dew. It is said to have magical powers."

  "I did not see you among the maidens." His voice held a hint of a smile.

  Frowning, Iliana willed away the trembling of her knees. The man confounded her with his gentle humor. "I was busy with other matters," she said briskly.

  "What could be more important than being happy and acting in accord with the celebration?"

  "I had to see to the cleaning of the bedchambers and that new rushes were put in place in the dining hall."

  "Ah, yes, I see, much more important matters."

  Iliana halted, staring up at him. "Do you think to mock me, sir?"

  He looked all innocence, spreading his hands wide. "I would never be so bold." His grin gave lie to his words.

  Iliana frowned, staring at his arm. "How is your wound today?"

  "It is mending. The healing powder is a wonder."

  "It looks as if it still bleeds." Iliana stared at a small dark stain at the center of the binding.

  "The linen needs to be changed. I shall see to it," he said, shrugging.

  Not sure how to deal with this man, Iliana let out her breath and shook her head.

  "If you will excuse me, I have other duties that need my attention," she said, hurrying into the courtyard.

  "I am heartily glad for your attention," he said, keeping pace. "Even after I am gone from this place, I will remember the scent of lavender in my bed linens."

  Iliana stopped. "It is not a matter to laugh at -- you would be most unhappy should you awake in the morn with your head and body full of fleas." She walked away from him again and this time he did not follow.

  "Iliana," he called.

  She did not stop but quickened her step.

  "I shall call for you after the noon hour." Before she entered the keep she looked over her shoulder to see him striding toward the inner courtyard and no doubt his war games. If he were to play today, he would reopen the wound. With a grimace of disgust, Iliana resigned herself to a day in his company.

  And yet, she felt at war with herself. He acted at times like two different people. The man who seemed as if he wanted to win her over, and the other one, the one she'd heard brutal stories about. For now, she wanted to trust the one he said he was.

  ¤¤

  Erik smiled and he scratched his head, her mention of fleas giving him a sudden notion to scratch. His chambers were clean, but of course he'd heard of such infestations in these times. He sighed a bit with discouragement. He seemed only inches closer to piercing Iliana's defensive shell than when he'd first arrived. He could see she was determined to hold him at arm's length, and really, who could blame her? He'd learned more than he liked from Camdork's men of the stealing, rapes and numerous brutal assaults the man was known for. How do you turn such a reputation around? Of course, the discovery of Agnes' pouch had been a big mark against him.

  He smiled though, thinking of the early morn. Her care of his wound, and then the desire he had seen in her eyes. Surely it was a good sign.

  Erik entered the courtyard, taking note of a game of dice being played by Ulrich and several others in front of the stables. One of the washerwomen whose acquaintance he had made and who had offered to see to the washing of his garments, was hanging the morning's wash over rails and thin lines strung across her wash area, while children ran around the men at arm's dice game.

  Erik watched the dice game, surprised to see Ulrich participating, as he usually stayed apart from the men -- and winning by the look of it. From time to time he'd wondered if Ulrich was different; he'd witnessed no meanness or brutality from that one. In fact, although his size was massive in comparison to most men, he seemed to stand apart from the many skirmishes that broke out.

  As Erik drew near, one of the running children was shoved toward the dice game by another fellow, and he fell in the middle of a dice throw, landing on top of the dice. Erik hurried his steps as two of the men at arms stood and began yelling at the boy. That's when Erik realized it was young Edward.

  One of the men reached for his knife just as Erik stepped up to him. "No," Erik said, getting in the man's face.

  "The little rat ruined my throw. I was going for a hundred," the man snarled. "It was to be my win."

  "Put away the blade."

  Ulrich reached in and pulled the boy up by the back of his tunic and to his feet. "Go on, disappear," he snarled.

  The wide eyed boy quickly took flight, scuttling away from the man with the knife.

  "I'll run 'im down," the man with the knife said.

  "Your name?" Erik said.

  "Elwin."

  "You will not harm that child, not unless you want a fight on your hands," Erik said. He lowered his voice. "Look around -- and I'll be the first to knock you down." Men and women stood at the ready; brooms, wooden paddles, iron pokers within an arm's reach beside the stable. "I will have no bloodshed. If you wish to kill each other outside the walls, then so be it."

  "I was winning," the man insisted.

  "Take your dice and play elsewhere." Erik looked around at the other men, five of them now on the fringe of their group. "Go on, disperse or I'll find each of you a job cleaning the latrines."

  With tight lips the men disbursed, not daring to voice their disgruntled complaints within his earshot.

  Edward moved from behind a wood pole. "Thank you, my Lord Camdork."

  Erik looked at the boy. "You'd best stay away from the men," he said. "Now you best get inside and get something to eat."

  The boy beamed at him. "Yes, sir, I most certainly will."

  Erik watched Ulrich, but the other man ignored him. Pulling a piece of wood from a sack beside him, he began to whittle a piece of wood. Erik stepped over to him.

  "You carve. Can I see that?"

  Without a word Ulrich handed him the piece of wood. Erik took the light chunk of wood about the size of his palm and studied it. "A pig?" He looked at Ulrich. "It's quite good. Is it a gift?"

  Ulrich shrugged. "Nay. I whittle to pass the time."

  Thinking back to the fighter dragon that Iliana swore had begun as a wood carving, Erik handed it back. "What else do you carve?"

  Ulrich studied him a moment, as if his words were suspect. Then he turned and walked into the stables. Curiously, Erik followed him. Ulrich pulled a leather pouch from a wooden peg on the stable wall, then held it out to him. Erik took the leather pouch, feeling its weight. He opened it and looked inside. Cows, horses, pigs, deer, geese...numerous animals had been carved out of various colored woods. He lifted a deer and studied it, turning it this way and that.

  "You carve very well," he said. "What do you do with these?"

  "They remain in the pouch."

  "You carve beautiful wood creatures and they sit in this bag?"

  "Aye." Ulrich shrugged, then asked suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

  "Just a curiosity." He hung the leather pouch back on the wood hook. "Do you carve dragons?" He met Ulrich's glance squarely.

  Ulrich suddenly looked angry, and he spat on the dirt floor. "Nay." Without another word he turned and s
talked from the stable.

  Erik followed him. "That makes you angry?"

  Ulrich glared at him. "I am a mercenary." He waved his arm at the yard. "As we all are. I get paid to fight, not to answer questions. I have work to do, men to train. If you think you can challenge the men, join us out in the yard."

  "Not today. But I will take you up on that offer another day," Erik said.

  Ulrich glanced at his arm, but otherwise did not respond.

  Erik walked across the courtyard, pondering the carved animals, wondering if there was any significance to Ulrich's hobby -- or was he chasing false leads? Whichever it was, he knew he must find out what Ulrich hid and what he knew about Camdork and the sorcerer.

  ¤¤

  Iliana walked with Camdork beside her, quite unsettled by his presence and the attention they were drawing from the festival goers. She wanted to remain aloof from him, but it was not to be. She actually found herself laughing as he made up tall tales of sailing the seas, diving for buried treasure and being chased by mer-men.

  He laid his hand over his heart. "It is the truth. I swear."

  "You swear?" She looked down as William squirmed in her arms. He wanted to get down on the grass and play with the other children. She placed him in the grass, keeping a watchful eye on his favorite carved sheep he held in his hand. She no longer trusted the little wooden animals, but William was quite attached to them and screamed when she took them away. She looked up at Camdork. "And what would a man such as yourself hold dear, that you would swear upon it?"

  He seemed to ponder her question quite seriously. "I swear upon my brother's life."

  "Now you have a brother? I have never heard of Weinroof of Camdork having a brother, or any family for that matter."

  He shrugged. "I don't know about Camdork. I speak of myself, Erik Marcus Remington. And I do have a brother. His name is Darien."

  She wondered at his insistence in clinging to that story.

  "Ah," he added with an exaggerated sigh, "I see the suspicion in your eyes, and you think me a liar." He looked away from her, toward the young men and women decorating the may pole in the middle of the field. "I have a brother whom I love very much." He looked at her, his eyes deep green and intense. "He traveled through time for the woman he loved, his dear wife Elise."

  Iliana caught her breath. "Traveled through time?"

  "Aye. As I have traveled through time for the woman I loved."

  She half turned from him, confused by his talk of time travel and his talk of love. "You say 'loved'? She is lost to you?"

  "It appears to be so."

  "I cannot credit you as a man in love." She frowned. "From all I have heard --" she shook her head. "What would you know of time travel? You, a man consumed by war and brutality."

  "You fight me at every turn," he said sadly, "every word I say. And here I am for your protection."

  Iliana raised a brow. "I am well able to take care of myself."

  "Perhaps," he conceded. "And you appear to be unwilling to believe other than what you think you know. I am here now, but who knows, perhaps the wind will take me and thrust me back into my own time."

  Iliana put a hand to her head. "You talk of things which are --"

  "What?"

  She looked around. "Forbidden. You cannot talk of time travel." She looked up toward the blue sky, then the hills in the distance.

  "Why not?"

  "The wer-dragons," she said in a low voice. "The wer-dragons are a peaceful lot, but do not tempt them with such talk."

  "Please explain as if I were a dull-witted lad," Camdork said. "You say they are peaceful, yet fear letting them hear you talk of time travel?"

  Iliana lifted William and nodded for Camdork to follow. They walked a bit away from the festivities, to a small group of trees where log seats had been cut and laid out upon the yellowing grass. She sat down and placed William back on the grass at her feet. He grabbed at tiny yellow flowers that had managed to bloom in the dry and parched ground.

  She pointed up toward the blue skies. "You see how they glide across the sky, moving back and forth, not bothering a soul? The wer-dragons are the keepers of the skies, the way in and out for those who seek to travel through time. It is whispered some have traveled away from here."

  "There are other ways than through the sky," Camdork said.

  She looked at him sharply. "There is no other known way."

  "I came by the sea," he said. "Apparently, it is another entry point."

  "By the sea?" Iliana stared at him. Did he tell the truth? The man was confusing, or was he just confused? She shook her head.

  "Believe what you will." He came to his feet, hands on hips, staring at the hills around them.

  "If I were to humor you, tell me how would you go back by sea?" she asked.

  "The way we came in," he said, "through a vortex, a hole in the sea, but in truth, I am not sure if it will work. How does one make it open when I wish to leave again?"

  Iliana felt a touch of excitement. Could it be true? Had he really time traveled by way of the sea? "You must tell me."

  "First, I would ask a favor."

  She tensed at his roguish grin.

  "I would ask a kiss and in return I will tell you how I came by sea."

  Her expression grew distant. She scooped up her son and began to walk back toward the revelers. She halted when his hand touched her shoulder. A small jolt went through her body, and it shivered down her back and across her neck. She turned, dislodging his hand.

  "It would merely be an experiment," he said, eyes dancing. "But no matter, if you are not up to it, I will still tell you of my voyage by sea." His grin never wavered. "But now, come. Look over there." He pointed toward the middle of the field. "Surely you want to go around the maypole with the other ladies? Look at the grand time they're having."

  Indeed they were. The young girls and men were winding themselves around the maypole that had been constructed in the middle of the field. Flowers and garlands adorned the area and long streaming ribbons of material had been fastened to the top of the pole.

  Camdork pulled her toward the gaily attired women. Many of the village girls Iliana knew by sight. She'd kept her distance for years, helping them when she could, but she'd always felt they wished her as lady of the keep to remain at a distance. And so she had.

  But today, all that seemed different. They smiled and motioned for her to join them. Again, she was tempted to drop the mantle of responsibility she wore day in and day out, to have a modicum of enjoyment enter her day and forget tonight's meal or tomorrow's business that must be planned and conducted.

  "Yes, but only for a moment. William will enjoy it also." She surprised herself greatly when she smiled at the blond giant beside her.

  Rowenna was in with the young girls who had decorated the pole. She ran up to her now and held out her arms for William. "Come, mistress," she said. "I will care for the wee one. Join the maypole fun."

  Iliana laughed. "All right." She looked down into her son's eyes, and she smiled at him. "William, you remember Rowenna, go play with her now." And Rowenna lifted William from her arms.

  With a backward glance, she ran to the maypole and grabbed one of the brightly colored streamers.

  Laughing, the women began to circle the pole and the men and boys joined in, faster and faster around they went. Iliana slowed down as her hair began to unloosen from the braids wound around her head, but she was urged from behind to keep moving. Laughing, she joined in the fun of the moment. More men joined them around the maypole and they began to become wound together within the ribbons.

  Iliana found herself bound with the rest in the ribbons. She looked up at the male chest of the man she was suddenly wound into the ribbons with. Bright, clear green eyes. Camdork. He had jumped in apparently at an opportune time and now they were wound together in the ribbon. She studied his face, inhaled his scent as it too wound around her. She found it not unpleasant, clean and surprisingly tangy, as if he'd bat
hed only that morning. His arm came around her shoulders and shielded her from the jostling of others about them. His strength was all around her and she almost felt a moment of lightheadedness come over her. How would it be if this was his true nature? How would she keep herself from caring for him, when he presented this softer side?

  "It appears we are bound together," he observed.

  "It is merely a game," she said. "On May Day it is not taken seriously."

  His face so close to hers bore quite a serious expression. Iliana felt the heat of his body warming her own.

  "This game has borne out what I knew all along." His whisper teased at her ears so that only she could hear his words.

  Uneasily, her stomach tightened. "And what is that?"

  "We are meant to be bound together," he murmured.

  She had a sudden urge to stand on tiptoe and touch her mouth to his, but she stood stiffly, reminding herself this man was her enemy. Feeling aflame, she was certain the burning in her body would start the ribbons on fire.

  ¤¤

  Erik helped Iliana unwind them from the streaming ribbons. They were the last ones out from the maypole. Some of the other couples had disappeared into the woods and for a moment, Erik wished that for himself and Iliana. Alas, that was not to be, and he felt somewhat shaken by the spell this woman had cast upon him, unwittingly or no.

  He had hoped that his earlier suggestion of a mere kiss would shake a memory loose, perhaps jar a memory of the time they'd spent together. Yet, she still saw him as Camdork, and indeed, did not seem willing or able to shake that image and see him apart from that scoundrel.

  If she had granted him a kiss, he would have been stepping beyond the bounds of where he'd been directed to go. Erik felt like a horse chafing at the bit, impatient with this task which had been cast upon him. Erik supposed he was fortunate this woman even spoke to him, thinking him the other one. At the moment, and for the first time in his life, Erik was uncertain how to extricate himself from this tangled web. How to make himself known and yet at the same time protect Iliana, her child and the people of the keep? He feared Camdork might well slay all in his path if the notion took him.

  This woman had reached to him from beyond time and now he'd found her only to realize she was out of his reach and soon to be another man's wife. That bitter knowledge ate at him sorely, but he kept his thoughts to himself as they were finally free of the ribbons.