Knight of Runes

by Ruth A. Casie

  “Jeannie, you can leave the salve. I’ll take care of it.” Her head was still bent down. She wrote furiously.

  “As you said you would be in for the midday meal. No, I’ll wait.”

  With a heavy sigh, Rebeka relented. Missing a meal was nothing new for her when she was into a project. More times than she wished to remember, the librarian unknowingly locked her in the building and she had to call security to get out.

  Jeannie stood waiting. There was no use arguing, and a burst of warmth washed over her. It had been many years since someone had been there to look after her. She let Jeannie check the stitches and put on the salve while she ate her lunch and finished her notes.

  “The stitches should come out, tonight after the meal.” She gently dabbed the salve on the wound. “You need to get up and walk around more. You don’t want the scar to draw too tightly or you’ll have a limp.”

  “Where should she go?” said Aubrey, coming into the library.

  “Anywhere she likes. She has to use her leg,” Jeannie said, still applying the salve. “I’m almost finished.” She stood, pulling down Rebeka’s skirt before turning to Aubrey. “I’m glad you’re here. I want to send some herbs and baby clothes over to Mary. Her baby will be coming soon and your cousin Katherine will be helping her when her time comes. There’s a basket on the terrace. Take them over to the mill for me please.”

  “Yes, Jeannie.” Aubrey turned to Rebeka. “Would you like to come with me? If you stay here Jeannie will only keep after you until she gets her way.”

  Rebeka put down the papers. Putting an arm around the girl’s shoulder, she squeezed her gently. “A walk would be good.”

  With a word of thanks to Jeannie, Rebeka grabbed a piece of cheese and her walking staff. She and Aubrey left through the terrace doors and walked down to the stone gate.

  “Aubrey, there are no herbs in the garden. Where do these grow?” She brought the basket to her nose and took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh tangy fragrance and noting the healthy leaves and blooms.

  “Some grow in back of the old cottage, some by the lake, and others in Oak Meadow.”

  “The lake? I didn’t know there was a lake close by.”

  “The only time we go there anymore is for the harvest festival. We have the wrestling and tug-of-war games there. I can’t wait for the festival. Everyone gets dressed up in their best clothes.” The more Aubrey told her about the festival, the more excited she got. “Arik wears his clothes from court. He’s so handsome. The women all make food, there is singing and dancing. It’s wonderful.”

  Rebeka smiled at her enthusiasm. “When’s the festival?”

  “It’s in August. I can’t wait. I know you will love it.”

  Rebeka smiled. She didn’t have the heart to tell the child she wouldn’t be going. She hoped she’d be gone by then. “Here’s the path to the lake. It’s beyond those trees.” They stood on the road to the village. A wide path to the right passed in front of an old well-cared-for cottage. An old woman sat sleeping under the tree.

  “Aubrey, you go on. I’d like to examine the plants. I’ll see you later.”

  The path to the lake wound its way through a stand of tall trees. The large full branches of the maples were a cool green canopy over the wide trail. A gentle breeze played through the leaves, making them dance ever so gracefully in the sun. The bright light fell in broad shafts through the trees. It landed on the ground, bathing it in great golden pools. The fragrance of wildflowers and herbs filled the warm air with a delicate perfume. Day bugs flittered around lazily.

  After a few minutes, the trees gave way to a serene lake. The compact flat trail continued circling the lake, creating a closed loop. Rebeka scanned the area to get a perspective of where she was. Only the Manor tower peeked over the tree tops. It was a secluded area.

  She stretched to loosen up, beginning with neck rotations and ending with flexing her feet. She did several katas, choreographed martial arts forms, and concentrated on her mind-body connection. The katas were a holdover from her martial arts training and helped her work out any pent-up energy. She found the familiar movements soothing. When she bowed at the end of the final kata, the music started in her head, Eric Clapton’s After Midnight, her jogging music.

  Trying to keep to her routine, she did exercises every morning in her room but she longed to run. She bounced on her feet, setting her mind, letting the music take over. She jogged slowly down the trail and circled the lake, enjoying the solitude. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself back in upstate New York. This is the perfect place to run. I should be able to work up to five laps pretty quickly. Follow with a swim in the lake. It’s better than the gym in New York. They don’t have a pool. I could harvest the herbs for Jeannie. This is getting better. I even have my jogging clothes. I can wash them in the lake. No one will see me here. I could be back at the Manor in time to break the morning fast, no one the wiser. Perfect! I’ll start tomorrow.

  She returned to the Manor excited at the prospect of getting back to her jogging routine. With a quick step and bright smile, she entered through the kitchen and grabbed an apple on her way to the library.

  “You have some color back in your cheeks,” said Jeannie. “The walk did you good.”

  Arik kept a close eye on the king’s scribe. He couldn’t help but notice her. He could feel her presence. Her subtle scent announced her arrival before he even heard her step.

  Jeannie and his captains provided daily reports and so far they proved to be nothing out of the ordinary. Her dedication to the project was admirable. She never ventured out of the library. But seeing her with the Manor plans made him uneasy. What was she looking for? There was no information noted on the document that wasn’t common knowledge. He relaxed when he realized nothing was amiss. He hoped it stayed that way.

  “What do you think about this woman?” Arik asked Marcus. They stood off to the side of the practice fields, speaking over the grunts of the men and the clash of metal swords against metal shields. Training was going quite well. The smell was all dust and sweat, luckily not blood.

  “She is comely,” Marcus teased.

  Arik smirked. “Yes she is. What do the villagers say?”

  “I’m surprised at how well she’s managed with the villagers. She can’t get through the market without everyone stopping to talk to her, even Margery. I’ve never heard that one say anything nice about anyone but she does like Rebeka. Overall, the villagers think she is pleasant, if a bit strange. They attribute it to her coming from the king’s court. About ten days ago, she started asking them questions. She writes everything down in a strange hand in her journal. She seems to be interested in gossip.”

  “Gossip? I found her studying the family documents. Fortunately, she can’t read the runes. I removed the book from the library.”

  “What do you think she seeks?”

  “I wish I knew.” He stared across the practice field, picturing the sensuous sway of her hips and the hypnotic passion in her violet eyes. He mentally shook his mind to clear it. “I want to know every move she makes.”

  “Arik, why so suspicious? It’s not like you.”

  He turned to Marcus. “If Jamie has sent her, he’s up to mischief, if he didn’t…all the more reason to stay alert.”

  Chapter Eleven

  July 11.

  I can’t believe I’m still here and no closer to returning. I’m making progress on everything but getting back. I’ve made some headway with Arik’s problem. Jeez, I wish I had my computer. I could research the micro-bursts. There may be an easy answer to this strange weather. Not such an easy solution. How do you counteract a force of nature?

  Doward would probably tell me to use magic. And I’ve been interviewing everyone. At least I have some good information for the National Trust project.

  “Rebeka! I’ve come to get you. It’s time to prepare for the evening meal.” Skylar marched into the library and stood next to the table with her hands on her
hips. She showed no signs of relenting.

  “I’m almost done.” Immersed in her journal, Rebeka didn’t pick up her head.

  “What are you working on?” Skylar dropped her hands from her hips and bent over Rebeka’s shoulder, curious to see what was so interesting.

  “Just writing what I did today. I’ve spoken to the older people in the village and asked if they remember seeing anything like this strange lightning before. They told me ten years ago there were similar lightning storms.” She put her pen down and sat back. “I want to find more about that lightning.”

  “Have you spoken to Elfrida?”

  “Elfrida?”

  “She’s one of the oldest people in the village. She may be able to help you. She’s full of odd information. Aubrey and I use to sit with her in her garden. She would tell us story after story. You must know who she is. Her cottage is the one on the path to the lake.”

  “So that’s who lives there. I’ve wanted to meet her. She’s out in her garden every morning, usually fast asleep, and I haven’t the heart to wake her. I’ll make certain I speak to her in the morning.” She closed her journal and got up from the table. “Well, enough for one day.”

  “Good. You’ve been in here for weeks.”

  Skylar looped her arm in Rebeka’s as they talked like old friends on their way upstairs to their rooms. “You rarely come out. You join us after dinner but leave so soon. You can’t spend all your time with books. Surely, you didn’t hide from everyone at court. Tonight you must stay with us.”

  Hide from everyone? Is that what people think? Rebeka’s hand was on the door knob to her room. She tilted her head sideways and peered at the girl. “I’ll join you after dinner and stay a bit longer.”

  “Uncle Logan, play your flute tonight,” said Skylar. “Aubrey will sing.”

  “What a wonderful idea. What shall I play?”

  “Lord Randal,” requested Aubrey. “I want to sing Lord Randal.”

  “Ah, Aubrey, that is such a sad ballad. How about something more lively?” asked Logan.

  “I like that song. Please play it for me.”

  “Okay, m’lady, if you insist. Your wish is my command.” He bowed deeply, winked at Skylar and picked up the flute.

  “Aubrey,” barked Katherine, loud enough for everyone to hear except Arik. He sat at the other side of the room intent on setting up the chessboard. “Why do you insist on singing such a horrid song? And that dress. What possessed you to put on that rag?”

  “Cousin, you know it’s Aubrey’s favorite dress. The material is from one of Mother’s gowns. Aubrey enjoys wearing it,” said Skylar.

  “Hush, Skylar, know your place. Aubrey, I do not want to see you in that dress again, do you hear?” Skylar was already across the room, eager to help Arik prepare the game board.

  Aubrey stood at Logan’s side, her hand lightly on his shoulder. She gave him a tentative smile then stared out the window into the evening and sang. Between the sad ballad and the even sadder face on Aubrey, the mood was somber.

  Rebeka was irked with Katherine’s manner and her mood deteriorated sharply toward anger. She must speak to Arik. He needed to help the child. She was defenseless against Katherine. Frustrated, she waited for Aubrey to finish her song then got up to leave.

  “Rebeka, please stay with us.”

  “I was going to go to my room, Aubrey.”

  “Please stay and sing. I hear you singing quietly in the library all the time.”

  “Yes, Rebeka, please sing us a song.” It was Logan’s turn to cajole her.

  She looked at the two conspirators and smiled. “All right, if you insist.” Rebeka picked up the mandolin. It rested propped up on the chest near the table where Skylar and Arik prepared for their game. What song? She thought while she tuned the instrument. In keeping with Aubrey’s Lord Randal theme of lost love, she decided to sing Greenfields, a 1960’s folk song

  She sat in the window seat which made a romantic backdrop for her song. She closed her eyes and sang the ballad in her strong alto voice, coloring it with emotion—the haunting sound of the tireless search for a lost love. The song built to a crescendo, pleading for a reason why he’d left her alone, and ended with a soulful promise, to wait for her lover’s return. When she was through, no one made a sound. Her eyes still closed, she held her breath and let her emotions settle down. The hush of the room washed over her. Finally, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into Arik’s. For a moment, she wondered if he had loved and lost. His face was drawn and his eyes were dark with…was that passion? She must have been wrong. At second glance it was a disinterested stare.

  He got up and retrieved a tankard of ale from the sideboard.

  “Oh, Rebeka, what a beautiful song.” Wonder filled Aubrey’s voice. “Oh sing another.”

  “It’s time for you to go upstairs.”

  “You have a rich voice.” Logan ignored Katherine, who looked at him with displeasure written all over her face. Arik made no comment.

  “Oh, please, Rebeka. You can’t leave us with two sorrowful songs.”

  Rebeka laughed. “All right, hmm, let me see.” Her hair fell in front of her eyes and she reached back, flicking it backward over her shoulders to get it out of the way. She strummed the mandolin and picked through camp songs in her mind until she found the right song. “Logan, can you play this on your flute?” She played the simple melody.

  “Yes, it doesn’t sound difficult.” He mimicked the tune.

  “Good, now follow me. Row, row, row your boat…” She sang the song through once. “Skylar, Aubrey, sing it with me.” Logan and Rebeka played the song and the girls joined in. “Now do you think you can do it without me?”

  “Yes, we can.” Aubrey was eager to sing.

  The girls started the song. After the second line, Rebeka joined in and they sang it through two more times in a round.

  By the end of the song, laughter filled the room—the beginning of a smile even tipped the corners of Arik’s mouth. Katherine, however, was as dour as always.

  Rebeka returned the mandolin to its place, and turned her attention to Skylar who was playing chess. A thick nostalgia blanketed her thoughts. She used to play chess with her dad. She sighed heavily, gave herself a mental shake and paid attention to the board as the game progressed.

  “There, Uncle Arik, you better take care, only three moves and I will have your queen.”

  Rebeka saw Skylar’s error. She left her king exposed, a wide opening for Arik. Her head snapped up as Arik’s eyes bore into her. His hands were clasped, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair.

  “Skylar,” said Rebeka, still looking at Arik. Only his eyes shifted when he returned his attention to the game.

  “Did you want to say something? I didn’t think you were still here,” Arik said dismissively to Rebeka, his eyes still on the board.

  Rebeka fought back a rebuff. She chose her next words carefully. “I only wanted to tell Skylar she might want to look at the board from every angle.”

  All was silent. A few moments passed. “The next move is mine. What should it be?” Arik raised his eyes, trapping her in his gaze. It was a direct challenge.

  She understood the test. Does she make him take a move to set up Skylar for a false victory or does he play through to win? She looked at Arik but he once again studied the board. She would get no help from him.

  After a few minutes of deliberating, she moved Arik’s rook and toppled Skylar’s king. “Checkmate,” she quietly declared.

  “Rebeka, how did you see that move?” Skylar moved to the edge of her seat to get a closer look at the board.

  “You only saw the board from your perspective. You must evaluate all angles and all challenges, no matter the degree of obvious threat, to ensure your success. You must always be alert and prepared.”

  Well done, woman. He would not give her the satisfaction of a compliment but he watched her. He always watched her. He told himself he watched to be ready in case
she proved false but even he knew it was a poor excuse. He watched her fluid movements, the confident regal way she walked, the set of her eyes when she concentrated deeply, the tilt of her head when she spoke to Katherine and her affection for the girls, especially Aubrey.

  “I shall not forget the lesson, Rebeka. It’s a good lesson, isn’t it, Uncle Arik?”

  Arik simply smiled and nodded. When Rebeka first joined them after the meal, he had been ready for a confrontation. The pleasant evening surprised him. Her interaction with Logan and his nieces was enjoyable.

  Katherine, on the other hand…He should find time to speak to her about Aubrey. The woman took all her frustration out on the child. He watched her punish the embroidery, stabbing the needle mercilessly into the fine linen until the room grew too dark for her to see the stitches.

  “Now that you’re finished with your little concert, girls, it’s time to take to your bed,” said Katherine.

  Reluctantly Skylar and Aubrey said their good-nights and followed Katherine up the stairs.

  “I must retire, too.” Logan yawned. “Good night, Arik. Good night, Rebeka.”

  Without a word, Arik also got up to leave. “Arik, I would like to talk to you about Aubrey. She’s being bullied.”

  He didn’t stop. He heard the swish of her skirt as she tramped after him. He increased his strides.

  “Arik, I—”

  “Woman, not now,” he commanded.

  “But it’s—” She continued following him.

  “Do you run after me?”

  “If you haven’t got the courtesy to stop and listen then I am forced to go after you. It’s about Aubrey.”

  He stopped by the grand staircase and turned so abruptly she slammed into him.

  “Your concern is the library, not Aubrey. Do not interfere.”

  She took a small step backward. “I need to bring this to your attent—”

  Grabbing her by her shoulders, he pulled her toward him and easily lifted her off the ground.

  The feel of her arms beneath his hands sent small ripples of excitement scurrying to every nerve in his body. He brought her face close enough to feel the rush of her breath against his cheek and a sudden warmth radiated through him. He pulled her close. Her violet eyes darkened to deep purple and the silver specks in them sparkled as her passion grew. Her heat overpowered him and all he wanted was to capture her lips and cover them with his own. He watched her eyelids flutter and close. She raised her chin and, without a word, offered him her mouth. A low growl rumbled in his throat and he brushed her lips with his, setting off a raging storm that swept across his body. Lazily, her eyes opened. Her lips parted as if to speak but she said nothing.