Most of the time, she purposely did not allow her thoughts to dwell on Dresdonia or Severon. By unspoken consent, she and Lukas did not discuss those topics either. Instead he showed her the land they rode through and entertained her with stories of his childhood with Abiel. She, in turn, shared with him things of the future, and he questioned her on air travel and space.
The fourth day after leaving Hullington, they came to a stop on the edge of a large clearing. Lukas dismounted and held Lexy’s horse as she did the same.
“I wanted to bring you here before everyone else arrived,” he told her. “I thought it important for you to see the land.”
The forest was quiet. Lukas had been diligent in ensuring they ran into no one.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
And it was. The forest treetops filtered the sun and colorful flowers bordered the clearing. The vibrant green grass spoke of the richness of the fertile soil. It was idyllic and serene. A fairytale setting.
“It holds much potential that has been languishing under Severon.” Lukas stood with his back to her and looked over the clearing before them. “One day, if we are successful, I would like to see that potential realized.”
He turned and his expression softened. “I can imagine leading Dresdonia now, but only with you by my side.”
She walked to him and took his hand. “You’ve actually spent time here. This means so much more to you than it does to me. To me it’s a land. I could take it or leave it. You see it for what it could be.”
“I see more clearly now than I ever have before. It is as if a veil has been lifted, and I see everything as it could be. Can you think what this country could be with you and me leading? If we were able to use our positions to spread the love of Christ? It could reach everywhere. First Dresdonia, then England and Scotland. Mayhap even France. We are not limited! We are not.”
“Lukas,” she whispered. “I have chill bumps. I thought you believed us to be doomed?”
“I am still not certain what will happen, but I have learned not to put limits on what God can do. It is entirely possible He has brought us here for His purpose.”
“Not just entirely possible,” she said. “But certainly possible. Whatever happens here will be furthering His purpose.” Whether that purpose was to change history or to die in the time she was born, she didn’t know.
He put his arm around her and they stood in silence staring at the land around them.
****
Later that afternoon, the sun warmed her back through the thin material of her dress while she rested after a picnic lunch. Lukas lay on his side facing her, his black hair ruffled by the breeze. She ran a finger down the long length his arm.
The sweet fragrance of an unknown flower drifted through the air and somewhere in the distance, two birds chirped a duet. It was a beautiful day. A stark contrast to her thoughts.
Lukas gave a lazy smile and took her hand. He was so warm. So alive.
“Do you think it hurts a lot?” she asked.
“Does what hurt, love?” He kissed her palm. She shivered, forcing herself to focus on her question. “To be beheaded,” she said. “Do you think it hurts a lot?”
“Merciful heavens, Alexia.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Whatever do you mean by asking such a question?”
“I was just wondering. And it’s not such an outrageous question. It could happen. To me at least.”
He didn’t answer.
“How does one become an executioner anyway?” She rolled to her back. “Do you start off beheading chickens? What would come next? Pigs maybe? Do you have to show some sort of proficiency before you do a human? Or doesn’t it matter that much since you’re just going to kill them anyway? Do you think—?”
“Alexia!” He jumped to his feet and stomped to stand some distance away.
“I was just wondering.”
“Stop!”
“You’re an English citizen,” she said, sitting up. “I guess Severon can’t kill you. But since I’m the heir… Or does being married to you make me an English citizen?”
He faced her, expression blank, breathing normal once more. “I assure you. Severon would have no difficulties killing me were he to discover my deception. English citizen or no.”
He spoke calmly, as if complimenting the picnic or observing how pleasant the weather was. But then, what would be the purpose in getting upset? Naivety had no place in their current endeavor. Neither did dramatic overtures.
“Have you seen a beheading before?” she asked, keeping her voice even.
The desire to lie flickered across his face, but she knew he could no more lie to her than he could stop the night from following day.
“Yes,” he said.
She hugged her knees to her chest. “Tell me about it.”
“No.”
He was, without a doubt, the most stubborn man she’d ever met. She glared at him. “Don’t you think I should prepare myself?”
He walked to the edge of the blanket. “In what way will detailing the executions I witnessed prepare you?”
“You’ve seen more than one?” The back of her neck prickled, and she rubbed the spot, feeling the reassuring contours of flesh and bone. But how fragile flesh and bone became when forced prostrate before sharpened steel.
The same thought must have occurred to Lukas. He stood unmoving, intent on the movement of her hand. Was he remembering the executions he’d witnessed? Did he picture her in the condemned’s place?
He shook his head. “No good will come from this discussion. Trust me.”
He was right. Hearing about the beheadings would do nothing to prepare her. She couldn’t stop the plan they’d put into action and knowing what Severon intended to do would not settle her unease.
“Come here,” he said, sensing her fragile control and opening his arms.
She walked to him and relaxed as his powerful arms engulfed her. A sob broke free and she clenched the front of his shirt. “I don’t want to die.”
“I know.” He tightened his embrace. “I know.”
“I have regrets,” he said, breaking the silence once she calmed down. “I suppose they are to be expected. I find it unlikely any man looks back on his life without them. But still…” His breath ruffled her hair. “I wish I could have been what you needed from the beginning. I failed you in so many ways.”
“Lukas—”
“No, Alexia. I deceived you from the start. Even our wedding…you knew not who I was and I said my vows half-heartedly, expecting them to last not a fortnight. Would that we could have that time back. That I could do it right.”
She rose to her toes, knowing what to give him on one of their last days together. “I, Alexia Delamere Reynard, take you, Lukas Oscar Reynard, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, in good times and bad, whether we be rich as kings or poor as peasants, in sickness or health. I will love you and cherish you in this life and the next.”
He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “I, Lukas Oscar Reynard, take thee, Alexia Delamere Reynard, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold, in joy and in sorrow, in wealth or in want, in sunshine or rain, to love you, to protect you and to cherish you for all eternity.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Her father arrived the next day and, soon thereafter, the remaining men joined them. They were a large group, but Lexy wondered if they were large enough.
At twilight, when all the men arrived, Torsten called them together. Lexy glanced at the men near her. Some were familiar. She knew them from their travels to Hullington. Others were strangers. The men behind her were rough-looking warriors, yet they stood arm to arm with the aristocrats such as Abiel and Lord Yager. There were so many of them, each gathered together for their chance—their chance to help her father reclaim what he had lost twenty-five years ago.
What they had all lost twenty-five years ago.
“Brethren,” Torsten said in his regal voice. “We have come to this place today to rectify
a wrong set against Dresdonia twenty-five years ago. I thank each one of you for your loyalty and bravery. I know not what tomorrow will bring. If we are successful, we are successful and if we die, we die. If death comes, I will meet my Lord with a smile on my face, knowing I am surrounded by brothers, all determined to take back what was wrongfully taken.”
The men let up a low roar, silenced at once by Torsten. When they had quieted, he spoke again.
“Many of you know my son-in-law, Lord Lukas Reynard. Come before me, Reynard.”
Lukas gaped, but settled his features and walked to Torsten. He glanced at Lexy and she smiled at him, pride coursing through her veins. Lukas knelt before her father and bowed his head. To Lexy, it felt as if she were in a dream. Never had she experienced or seen anything like the scene playing out in front of her.
“You kneel before me as my son-in-law, Lord Lukas Reynard of England. Yet you have proven yourself to be a valiant warrior, one who exhibits great loyalty and humility.” Torsten placed his hands on Lukas’s head. “Therefore arise. From henceforth be known as Prince Lukas of Dresdonia, my son.”
Lukas stood to face Torsten eye to eye.
Torsten put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “I place my men in your care, Prince Lukas. Lead them well.” He dropped his hands and faced the crowd. “I suggest you all go to bed. We shall rise early on the morrow.”
The men left for their scattered pallets. Fires had been forbidden, so the majority of them made do with bread, nuts, and cheese for dinner. Lexy had packed a few berries, even though Lukas still viewed raw fruit suspiciously.
Lukas stood by Torsten’s side until the last man left. He then gave a short bow to Torsten and moved to Lexy’s side.
Their own camp was not far. Lexy did her best to push from her mind that the night before them could be their last one together.
They held each other under the warm blankets.
“What was that about?” she whispered so as not to disturb the men around them. “You’re already known as Prince Lukas. Why do that now?”
He kissed her. “But never by your father. He acknowledged me tonight. Gave me his blessing, if you will. He ensured the men knew it.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Speak no more of your father, my love, the morning will come too soon.”
In the shelter of his arms, she tried to sleep, but found it impossible with the coming day embedded in her mind.
****
Lukas was right. The morning did come too soon. They woke before dawn and dressed without speaking in the dark. Lexy started to put her hair up, but Lukas came behind her and stilled her hands.
“Wear it down and come with me.”
He bent to his side and picked up a bundle. Then he took her hand with his free one and led her away from camp. She kept her eyes off the bundle at his side as they walked. If she looked, she’d know what it was. Better to ignore it and pretend it didn’t exist. Her stomach ached. She didn’t want to think about what was in the bag. She would not let her mind wander in that direction. So much easier to think than to do.
They came to a cliff looking over the large clearing they had visited days earlier. Lukas stopped and faced her, his gaze locked on hers.
“I believe the battle will be fought here,” he said, pointing below them. “There is a cave below. The one I spoke of before. You must promise me that you will leave if it comes to that.”
It was a warm day, but chills ran through her body as understanding dawned. “That’s why you told me to wear my hair down. I wondered why. I know you hate my hair.”
“I do not hate your hair,” he said softly.
“You want me to wear it down so I can go back.” She forced herself to acknowledge the bundle. “That’s…that’s…” she sputtered pointing to the offensive lump at his side.
“Your clothing. Yes. You ought to dress in the cave before you go back.”
“I’m not going.”
“I refuse to allow your death. You will go back.”
The torrent of tears she’d been holding back burst through, and she covered her face. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t.
“Alexia.” His voice cracked, and he hugged her close to him. “I cannot. I cannot bear to lose you. If my life is required of me this day, it will be but a just punishment for my sins. You have done nothing. You must promise me you will go back. Promise me!”
His words struck her heart as surely as if he’d stabbed her. “Lukas…” she moaned.
But she could say no more because the next second, his lips covered hers and all rational thought left her mind. She knew just the feeling of his arms and his kiss, and then he pulled back. She felt his absence as clearly as if she’d lost an arm.
She moved her hands from his shoulders and framed his face. He gazed at her, his blue-gray eyes piercing.
“We may be separated,” she said, never moving her gaze from his. “But death doesn’t hold the final victory. We will win in the end. If I don’t see you again in this life, I will be with you for eternity in the next.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “Always.”
She closed her eyes to savor the sound of those sweet words one more time. His lips brushed hers with a featherlight touch and when she opened her eyes, he had left.
She stood and watched the sun ascending into the sky. Never had she given much thought to the sun. She had always taken its light for granted. She’d been, she thought, rather indifferent to it altogether.
Except right then.
In that moment, she hated the sun.
The sun had come and pulled Lukas from her arms, pulled him into a battle that could see her back in the twenty-first century before it set in the evening. Where would the night find her?
The air around her held its breath, and she exhaled as a battle cry pierced the waiting silence. It was time.
She watched the approach of horses. Lukas led the raid. Dressed in light chain mail, he held his sword out while clods of dirt flew up from the hooves of his black mount. An odd mix of pride, relief, and fear pounded through her veins.
The second battle cry quickly erased the pride and relief, leaving fear in its wake. She expected the second cry, the approaching men had just fully entered the clearing, but the sound didn’t come from them. It came from the opposite direction.
We are discovered.
Only later would she realize that there was no way they could not have been discovered. How could they have thought to bring hundreds of men into Dresdonia, many of them camping for several days, and not be discovered?
Later, she would realize that.
At that moment, all she could do was watch dumbfounded as Severon’s men rushed to meet Lukas’s.
It was not, some part of her knew, a fairly matched fight. Severon’s men were well armed, and they cut through Torsten’s troops as though her father’s men were merely blades of grass.
Lukas answered in kind, striking down those to his right and left as he progressed forward. Lexy blinked and when she opened her eyes, she’d lost sight of him. She could no longer pick out any individual man from her high perch. From where she stood, the men moved as a waving, clashing force intent on destruction.
She watched for a long time, or at least it seemed like a long time. The outlook for Dresdonia grew dimmer with each passing moment, with each brave warrior who fell.
Lord, should I go back? Is it time?
‘I know the plans I have for you, Daughter.’
Thanks, but that’s not all that useful right now. What? What are the plans?
‘I know the plans I have for you, Daughter.’
She sighed and walked down the slope, slowly making her way to the cave near the clearing. The cries and grunts of the battle below surrounded her, and she kept her head down, concentrating on moving forward. A high-pitched whistle pierced the air and she stumbled over a fallen tree branch, dropping the bundle.
I’m not leaving.
It was in tha
t moment, in that thought, that she knew. Cara was right. There were things worth fighting for. Things worth dying for. God had brought her back to Dresdonia, back to the sixteenth century and maybe He brought her back to die in her own time. Maybe not. But when the night came, she’d either be alive in the sixteenth century or alive in heaven.
If only she had a sword. She ran the rest of the way down the hill. At the bottom she glanced backward, glimpsed the opening of the cave that would have taken her back to the home she’d left behind.
Goodbye, Cara.
She skirted a tree, eyes straining to see the battle. A few men were nearby, their grunts and groans grew louder as she approached. A familiar figure stood twenty feet in front of her. His hands lifted upward.
“Ebbe,” she yelled. “Behind you.”
The older man looked up and met her gaze, but it was too late. The man behind him moved faster, and the sword caught her dear friend in the back.
“No!” She ran to Ebbe. The man who’d struck him took off, returning to the thick of the action.
“Ebbe!” She fell to her knees, her hands running over his face. Too late. He coughed, a low groan gurgled from his chest, and a trickle of blood dribbled from his lips. “Oh, Ebbe. No.”
He struggled to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes rolled frantically.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” She reached for his hand without taking her eyes from his and lifted a silent prayer when she found it.
The fingers captured in hers fluttered, his eyes slowed. She leaned close and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Ebbe. Thank you. Thank you for never giving up.”
He coughed once, closed his eyes, then was gone.
She didn’t know she was crying until she saw her tears falling on the breastplate he wore.
Little by little, she became aware of the battle sounds around her. She glanced up.The fighting had grown frantic in the past few minutes. She knew she wouldn’t leave Dresdonia, but she didn’t feel comfortable sitting and watching.
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