by Sasha Lord
“Nevertheless, the dirk is now mine, so be a sweetling and give it to me.” He waved his fingers once again.
Kassandra stared past him, her mind spinning. She felt faint and tiny spots of light flickered in her vision. “I know he is alive. He . . .” An image from her dream flashed before her. He was bleeding from his left hand as he stared up at the lonely moon. He was reaching for her, asking for her help.
“I do not have any more time,” Cadedryn snapped. “The next joust is about to begin.”
She closed her hand around the knife. “You must provide proof, sir. Either convince me that the man I am seeking is dead, or I will continue to search for him.”
Cadedryn took several steadying breaths. “You are behaving ridiculously. It was my father’s knife because I say it was. My word is enough.”
“Proof,” Kassandra repeated as she took a step backward, unease whispering through her. It was as if she felt compelled to obey him and had to physically fight to remain several feet away. His green eyes were commanding yet filled with a buried pain that plucked at her heart. She hesitated, almost willing to forego her search for the moment just to comfort him.
“What proof do you require?”
“Was your father wounded on the hand?” she asked, seeing his flare of anger as she held the dirk close to her breast.
Cadedryn sat back, his manner turning icy. “You insult me,” he said coldly. “From the moment we met you have shown a childish lack of manners. Suggesting that my father was a cripple is both poor etiquette and incorrect. Our conversation is over, but I hereby warn you that I will obtain what is rightfully mine, with or without your compliance.” He spun his horse around and galloped toward the lists.
“She has the dirk my mother gave my father,” Cadedryn hissed to Curtis. “She might have the proof I need to convince the king that my father’s death was not a suicide.”
“You must forget your notion that it was murder,” Curtis answered. “He was distraught after the death of his wife, and the only person to gain by his death was you. May I remind you that you were also the last person to see him alive? It would be wiser to leave those events buried in the past.”
“He did not commit suicide. He was too strong for that,” Cadedryn insisted. “He missed her, yes, but he would not commit a sin that would cast him in hell when my mother was in heaven. As much as I despise his decisions, we both loved my mother. He wanted to be with her for eternity.”
Curtis placed a hand on Cadedryn’s shoulder. “Remember how distraught your father was after your mother’s death? Do you recall his desire to be with her? It is time to forget. Your father killed himself ten years ago.”
Cadedryn shook his head. “I have never believed that, Curtis. You know my convictions.”
Curtis’s face flushed and he glared at his longtime companion. “Is it a good time to stir the rumors again? You are near to achieving your goals. If you create controversy, the king might reconsider his forgiveness. Even if something did happen, and someone did harm him, ’twas long ago. Situations change. People change.”
Cadedryn checked his sword, mulling over Curtis’s advice. He knew that his friend spoke true, but seeing the dirk had reminded him of many things he had forgotten. “Still, perhaps she knows some details I have not yet learned.”
“I doubt it,” Curtis commented as he patted Cadedryn’s horse and checked the mount’s girth. “How could she? She would have been in the schoolroom when your father died.”
“My father was frail with grief. Someone young could have taken him unaware.”
Curtis laughed uncomfortably and averted his gaze. “You would suspect a young girl? Upon whom else would you cast the blame? Am I next?”
Cadedryn looked down curiously. “Of course not, Curtis. I would never suspect you of anything so nefarious.”
“We did not begin as friends,” Curtis reminded him. “In fact, I was at Aberdour Castle the day your father died. I did not want you to come to my home to foster and I told you so that very afternoon.”
Cadedryn shook his head. “What purpose do you have in saying these things? We were only boys. Much time has past since those days and our mutual distrust is long gone.”
“I just want to be assured of your loyalty. Should anyone speak ill of me, I want to know that you would dispute it, just as I would defend you.”
“Indeed. Have no concerns.”
Curtis nodded, his face relaxing into a smile. “How did Lady Kassandra present the dirk? Was she asking for coin?”
“She asked who owned it.”
Curtis lifted a jousting lance to Cadedryn. “What does she intend to do with it now?”
“She said she wants to return it to its rightful owner.”
“Then that is the end of it. Tell her it is yours and be done with the issue.”
“She demanded proof that it is mine.”
Curtis shook his head in confusion. “What kind proof would she require? Surely your name is adequate.”
Cadedryn closed his fist. “She must have other plans,” he murmured. “If she was as pure as she portrays herself to be, then I would have the dirk in my belt at this very moment. Instead, she is playing some game. We may be underestimating her.” He lifted the lance high in the air and stared across the field at his opponent. “I have suffered enough shame by far crueler adversaries. She will regret crossing my path.”
Curtis jumped back as a page snapped the flag down and Cadedryn’s horse leapt forward. “Good luck!” he called, but Cadedryn had already galloped halfway down the jousting ropes with his lance lowered to attack.
Chapter 5
“There!” Kassandra cried as she pointed to the man. “That is the one who says he knows my life mate. The same man who crashed his horse into us earlier today.” She had returned to the bench and found a frantic man-at-arms. After soothing him and promising not to tell anyone that he had misplaced her, they had found their way to the spectator tents. After finding the yellow one where her sister was sitting, the man-at-arms had bowed away and left Kassandra in her sister’s safekeeping. “I am certain he knows the identity of my husband,” Kassandra insisted.
Kalial sighed. “Kassandra, stop saying that this dream man is your husband. You don’t even know who he is.”
“My future husband,” Kassandra clarified. “Caen-more knows the owner of the dirk my dream mate gave me to assist my search.”
Kalial tilted her head and looked into her sister’s earnest face. “Do you feel him nearby?”
Kassandra shuffled her feet and snuck a quick glance at Cadedryn from underneath her lashes as he thundered past. “I’m not entirely certain I can trust my senses,” she mumbled.
Two women sitting behind them glanced at each other. The older one frowned and nudged the younger one, who narrowed her eyes with distrust. “They are speaking of Cadedryn,” the older one whispered. “We cannot wait any longer. You must stake your claim or we risk losing him.”
The younger woman glanced at the far end of the field where the men assisting the jousters were watching the event. Curtis, her childhood playmate, was leaning against a pole. He had grown far more handsome during his years abroad than she had ever thought he could become.
“Corine!” the older woman hissed. “Attend my words or you will make my heart race . . .” The older woman fluttered her eyelashes and swayed in her seat.
Corine’s attention immediately swung away from the men and she touched the woman’s hand with concern. “Don’t fret, Mother,” she whispered. “I am listening. I intend to wed Caenmore and no one will interfere. I will make sure of that.” She leaned forward toward the two in front and cleared her throat to attract their attention.
“How are you faring, Princess Kalial?” she inquired. “Do you know Laird Caenmore?”
Kalial and Kassandra glanced back. The woman behind them was beautiful, her elegant face framed by perfect, sleek black hair and her clothing expensively tailored, as was the older woman beside her.
The family resemblance was clear. Kalial answered with a guarded tone. “Lady Corine. It is a pleasure to see you again. Lady Morgana,” Kalial said, acknowledging to Corine’s mother.
Morgana nodded but rose and excused herself, apparently exhausted by the proceedings. Her unpredictable health was well known, and Kalial watched her depart with some concern.
Corine looked pointedly at the two remaining women. “May I have the honor of an introduction?”
Kalial motioned to her sister. “Please make the acquaintance of my companion, Lady Kassandra.”
“And to whom are you married, Kassandra?” Lady Corine asked. “I heard you mention a husband.”
Kassandra shrank back. This woman was angry . . . She had underlying jealousies that tormented her soul. Guilt seemed to hover around her like a thundercloud about to erupt. Shuddering, Kassandra lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not married,” she murmured.
“No? What a shame. Yet so hopeful. Don’t worry about looks, my dear,” she said as she glanced pointedly at Kassandra’s coarse black hair. “Eventually there will be someone for you, as long as you don’t aim too high.”
Kalial started to rise in anger, but Kassandra touched her on the sleeve. “Pay no attention,” she pleaded. “I do not want to disturb anyone. Her words mean nothing to me.”
Kalial settled back down, but she glared at Corine with distaste.
A horn blew and the crier announced that Cadedryn Caenmore had won the match. He bowed to the king and queen, then rode along the rope of flags until he reached the spectator tent. “Lady Corine,” he stated as he bowed again from atop his horse.
She smoothed her frowning brow and smiled with false warmth. “Caenmore,” she acknowledged. “Many congratulations on your victory. Your prowess with a lance is proving equal to your swordsmanship.”
“Your token gave me strength and courage, milady.” Dismounting with the aid of a squire, he pulled off his gauntlets and untied the silk scarf from his lance. “I was honored to receive it from Curtis McCafferty. It seems that we have a friend in common. In the future, I hope to find many other things we may share together.”
Lady Corine rose and leaned over the barrier separating the jousting field from the seats. “I am pleased it served you well. Have you met Princess Kalial and her companion, Lady Kassandra?”
“Several times,” Cadedryn said wryly. “It seems that fate continues to place us in each other’s path.” He held out his left hand and politely grasped Kalial’s extended hand as she curtsied. Bowing over it, he nodded, then turned to take Kassandra’s.
Kassandra gasped. “Your hand! It is scarred!”
Cadedryn’s cheek muscles twitched as he struggled to contain his anger. “I assure you, the injury is not contagious.”
“No! I only meant that the man I am seeking has a wounded hand. You said nothing about it when I asked you moments ago.”
Withdrawing his proffered hand, he glared at her. “You asked about my father, not about me.”
“Kassandra!” Kalial said warningly.
Ignoring her, Kassandra leaned forward and gripped Cadedryn’s hand. “I should have known. You made me feel so strange and unsettled because you are my eternal life mate.” She drew his hand to her lips and kissed it. “Neither of us realized the truth, but now I see with open eyes. Surely you see it, too?”
Cadedryn yanked his hand away. “Milady, restrain yourself!”
“How could I have been so blind? You are my Dagda. Did you recognize me, your Danu?”
Cadedryn frowned. “What are you chattering about?”
Kalial desperately attempted to pull Kassandra back, but the excited woman shook off her restraining hand. “From our dreams?” she explained to him. “Do you remember me? I am to be your lifelong love and your dearest friend. I am to be your wife!”
“You are mad,” Cadedryn stated with finality. “Be silent and no one will speak of this. I warned you about acting so strangley.”
Kassandra scrambled between the stools, slipped underneath the barrier and pressed close to him and his horse. She looked up with sparkling eyes. “Don’t you feel it when I am near? Does not your body tingle and your blood pound?”
His heart thundered and he had an insane desire to nod. Her blue eyes pulled at him, demanding his response, yet he could not answer her. He felt the hairs on his forearm quiver and his gut clench. There was too much at stake . . . too many plans already set in motion. Shaking his head in denial, he stepped away from her.
She followed. “Oh yes, you do! I know it, for I have seen it in my dreams. We are destined to come together. We will fall deeply in love and nothing shall tear us asunder. I will be beside you forever, acting as your greatest ally. Together we will be invincible. Our love will be immeasurable! We are everything we need, everything we search for in another. We need no castle, no riches or gold. We will have a love most others only dream of!”
For one instant, his heart caught. Her eyes shone with such fervor that for a single deep breath he was entranced. Then Lady Corine laughed. “What a poor child! She is so desperate to find a husband, she will latch onto any hapless gentleman and try to claim him as her own. Sadly, you have chosen the wrong man, Kassandra. Caenmore is no more moved by declarations of love than a castle is shaken by a summer breeze. His father was a fool for love, but Curtis assures me he is far wiser.”
“You don’t know anything about him!” Kassandra cried as she spun to confront the woman’s mockery. “He knows I am his true love and he will marry me!” She turned back to Cadedryn and smiled with delight. “I found you, just like you asked me. I always knew we would come together. Everyone else doubted, but I never did. I—”
“Lady Kassandra, cease embarrassing yourself,” he murmured. “We have never met before today, and only hours ago you were casting aspersions upon me.”
“And I do so apologize. I was so intent on finding you, I was thoughtless and blind. But now that I have found you, we can—”
“We will do nothing.”
“We will get married! We will fall in love!”
He shook his head. “No. I will not fall in love with anyone. I have duties and responsibilities that I will not cast aside as my father did before me.”
“But—”
“I am sorry, milady, but you are mistaken. I am not the man you are seeking. Please, stop this. Soon everyone will hear and you will be taunted mercilessly.”
Kassandra’s lips trembled. “Your wound . . .”
“Many swordsmen have wounds.”
“The dirk . . . You gave it to me in my dream.”
“ ’Twas my father’s, not mine. He carried it on the night he died, and it is your obligation to return it to me.”
“You were there, weren’t you?” Kassandra gasped. “You found his body and saw his blood soak the earth!”
Cadedryn’s face turned cold and he started to turn away from her.
“There was someone else,” she continued. “Someone else there that night.”
He spun back and stared at her, his green eyes blazing. “What do you know?” he demanded. “What do you know of his death?”
She fell silent, confused by his infuriated tone, as Lady Corine turned white and placed her hand across her own chest.
He shuddered. “You say things you could not know. Unless you have proof that there was another man in the meadow, I suggest you hold your tongue.”
“Our love . . .”
“We have no love. Not now, not ever.”
Lady Corine’s color returned with a rush and she strode over to Cadedryn and placed a proprietary hand on his arm. “You are acting foolish, Lady Kassandra. ’Tis no wonder you have not found a husband.” She leaned toward her. “Take my advice, woman to woman. Leave this one alone. Don’t chase. Let them come to you.”
Kassandra fell back, bewildered and distressed. “You don’t believe that, do you?” she asked Cadedryn tearfully. “In my dream you told me to come find you.”
&nbs
p; “Lady Corine speaks the truth, milady.” Cadedryn replied. “This is not the place for ill-mannered lasses. ’Tis clear you have not been raised to survive at the king’s court. This may not be the best place for you. I don’t want to see you hurt by the insensitivity of others. I am the last person you should set your sights upon, for I have goals that go far beyond simply finding a wife. You should search for someone more like youself, someone kind and unassuming. Seek a young knight who will lay his heart at your feet.”
Kalial reached out to Kassandra once again, and this time her hands were not restraining but comforting.
Kassandra’s gaze swung back and forth between Corine and Cadedryn, then swept toward her sister.
“Kassandra,” Kalial murmured as she held out her arms.
Kassandra shook her head, rejecting comfort. She dashed the welling tears from her face, then with a haunted glance toward Cadedryn, she raced out of the spectator tent.
“Such a silly child,” Corine criticized as Kalial exited the tent and set out after Kassandra. “She obviously has no experience with men or she would know that her declarations only annoy the harder sex. She should be more discreet and reserved or she will attract no one’s interest.”
Cadedryn watched Kassandra as well. His hooded expression did not reveal his thoughts, but inside he trembled. She spoke of another person in the meadow. What did she know and how did she know it?
“And her hair and face!” Lady Corine continued. “She is probably pockmarked beneath all that paste.”
“She is simply young and unaware of political machinations,” Cadedryn replied. “She is harmless. Leave her be.”
“It sounds like you are defending the child,” Corine snapped. “I would take it amiss if you allowed her to continue her ridiculous campaign to win you.”
“Just because I do not want to besmirch her does not mean I want to wed her. As I stated in my initial letter to you, my attachments will be formed based upon more important matters. Speaking of which, you have yet to give me a formal answer, Lady Corine.”