Secret Heart

by Speer, Flora

  She barely heard Roarke’s cry of release, for she was too caught up in the amazing convulsions rolling through her body to be aware of anything except his intimate presence inside her and the pressure of his skin against her from bosom to toes when he collapsed atop her.

  She did not know, and certainly did not care, how much time passed before Roarke moved again and gently, carefully, disengaged himself from her. It could have been years, or only moments. All she knew was that after he left her, she felt bereft, until he slipped an arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her close to rest against his side. His lips brushed her forehead and then her mouth.

  “Jenia.” His voice was low and tender, and his arm held her even more tightly.

  “I never dreamed it would be so beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Even though I hurt you?”

  “Only for a moment. I scarcely remember it now. What happened afterward was far more important.”

  “I am glad. Can you sleep now?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “Only if you stay with me,” she responded, sensing that he was about to rise and head for the great hall to spend the rest of the night there as he had originally intended. She repeated the words she had said earlier. “Please don’t go, Roarke.”

  “If Elwin comes looking for me,” he began.

  “Swear him to silence. A squire is obligated to obey his master’s commands.” Jenia smothered a yawn. She was so relaxed, so contented that she could not bear the thought of moving. All she wanted was to stay where she was, in Roarke’s arms, until morning arrived.

  “If I stay, I will surely make love to you again,” Roarke warned. “You may find that you are too sore to ride tomorrow.”

  “No, I won’t.” The discussion proceeded no further, for Jenia fell asleep, suddenly and completely.

  She wakened later to see the candle flickering as the last of the tallow stub burned low. But it didn’t matter, for Roarke was kissing her and caressing her once more and her response was as eager as it had been the first time.

  Because of Walderon’s frequent disparaging criticisms of her, Jenia had never believed she was attractive to men, but Roarke made her feel beautiful. He freed something deep inside her, an eagerness for life that she had kept buried while she sought justice for Chantal. Now she had three good men to help her in her new quest, and King Henryk to back their efforts. With Roarke, she was no longer alone.

  Then she stopped thinking, because Roarke was inside her again and they were soaring together to their sweet climax. When the candle finally died Jenia noticed it, but she didn’t care. She needed no artificial light. She had her hands and her mouth and Roarke’s wonderful body to guide her into the skies and then to bring her safely home again.

  Part III

  The Quest Fulfilled

  Chapter 14

  Thury Castle

  “Where is that pestilential woman?” Walderon demanded. He bent such a scathing glare upon his henchman that Burke, tough though he was, visibly shook under the force of his master’s displeasure.

  “My lord, we cannot find Lady Sanal.” Burke cleared his throat as if to steady his voice before speaking again. “We have looked everywhere.”

  “Not everywhere, obviously,” Walderon said, his glare becoming harder and colder. “If you had looked everywhere, you’d have found her and brought her to me here in my private office, as I ordered you to do hours ago.”

  “Perhaps, Lady Sanal has left the castle,” Burke suggested.

  “No, she has not. The men-at-arms at the main gate have not seen her. Nor have the two sentries who guard the postern gate. No one has seen my cursed wife!” Walderon slammed a fist down on his writing table, the violence of the gesture making Burke back up a couple of steps. “Enough of this. I have wasted too much time already. If Lady Sanal does not wish to accompany me to Calean City to witness the presentation of my petition to King Henryk, which is certain to be followed immediately by his confirmation of me as the new lord of Thury, then let her stay behind. I’ll take care of her when I return. Are the horses saddled? Have you at least seen to that simple matter?”

  “Aye, my lord.” Burke bobbed his head. “The men-at-arms and the squires are mounted and waiting in the outer bailey. We are ready to leave whenever you want.”

  “What I wanted was to leave early this morning. It’s a long ride to Calean.” Walderon headed for the door. “Come on, Burke. If you delay me, I swear I’ll have you flogged.”

  “I am at your heels, my lord. As always,” Burke added under his breath.

  The door clicked shut. Silence filled the small office. In the secret passageway behind Walderon’s private room, Sanal pulled her face away from the peephole and sagged in relief. For the moment she was safe and she could relax the shield she had erected to hide herself from Walderon’s dark, searching Power.

  Her own Power was minimal, an accident of nature according to her mother, for neither Sanal’s parents nor her grandparents had possessed any magical ability. The Power was usually an inherited trait, but it could on occasion crop up unexpectedly, like a sudden alteration in a plant or an animal. Not wanting to be thought different from everyone else in her family, Sanal had spent her childhood hiding her ability. Thus, unused and concealed, it had remained largely undeveloped, though so far she had been able to prevent Walderon from learning her secret.

  She sent a prayer of thanks to heaven that she wouldn’t have to ride to Calean with Walderon, there to play the meek and obedient wife as she listened to his false version of Chantal’s death. He’d likely weep a few tears as he reported how the ship’s captain had said the poor girl was accidentally swept overboard during a storm. As Chantal’s only surviving blood kin, Walderon was now free to lay claim to Thury.

  “You will never know how fortunate you are that I am not with you, Walderon,” Sanal muttered. “I couldn’t bear to listen to any more of your lies without contradicting you and telling the truth, even if you were to kill me afterward.”

  Unsure how long the search for her would last, she had brought food and a pitcher of wine with her, taking care that both were covered so spiders or other vermin could not fall into, or upon, her provisions. She relished the thought of swallowing a spider even less than she liked the idea of confronting her husband.

  Sanal had thought carefully for several days before making her decision to enter the system of narrow corridors and steep stairways that lay hidden within the thick castle walls. She was amazed that Walderon didn’t know about them. But then, never, not in her most intensive explorations of the castle, had she seen a building plan. Such a plan must have existed at one time, drawn by the architect and used by the masons and carpenters. Perhaps, the first lord of Thury had destroyed the plan after the castle was finished, so no would-be invader could learn the secret and use it.

  Sanal knew that some of the older servants were aware of the inner passageways, but Walderon was not the kind of master to whom underlings confided secret information. They, like Sanal, found it safer to conceal much of what they knew.

  Sanal, herself, had learned the secret soon after coming to Thury. She had been shadowing Chantal and Jenia, as Walderon had ordered her to do, and she’d seen the girls pass behind a wall hanging and not come out again. A bit of searching on her part had shown her several other hidden doors and an hour of experimentation with fingers made nimble by years of needlework had revealed how to open and close them.

  She had kept the girls’ secret and she had been careful not to reveal any hint of her discovery to Walderon. Sheer disgust of her husband prevented her. She heartily disapproved of his treatment of Chantal and Jenia, but she hadn’t dared to oppose him. Husbands owned their wives and unless affection intervened to soften a man’s rule, a wife was wise to tread cautiously. Walderon loved no one. Sanal had learned over the years to be extremely cautious.

  She feared the corruption of Walderon’s Power, the vile and selfish way he had desecrated an inherited ab
ility that, in Sanal’s opinion, ought always to be used for the benefit of others. She wasn’t sure what Walderon’s ultimate goal was, but she knew in her soul that if he ever learned she possessed any Power at all, he’d find a way to turn it against her while using it to make himself stronger than he already was.

  Fumbling carefully in the dark she found the stool she’d brought into the tunnel along with the food. She sank onto it and rested her head against the stone wall. She needed to think, for she still hadn’t decided exactly what to do after she left the safety of the passage.

  Every instinct warned her not to return to her own chamber, for there she’d have to face whatever orders Walderon had left concerning her. The alternative was to flee the castle by the escape route that lay at the end of the lowest passage of all, where a secret door opened at the base of the castle wall. The question that arose to torment her was, where should she go once she was outside?

  Sanal knew of only one person who would be courageous enough to take her in and protect her. Even if she could reach him, which wasn’t a certainty because she’d have to walk a long distance, she hesitated to put him into danger. If Walderon found her, he’d kill her, and then he’d kill the man who had befriended her years ago and promised to help her, if ever she needed help.

  To bring bloody death or, worse, death by Walderon’s corrupt Power upon the one person in all her life who had shown her naught but kindness was quite beyond Sanal. Not even the years with Walderon had brought her low enough to use a good man so cruelly. She did still retain a vestige of the youthful conscience that once had guided her actions. It was the same conscience that troubled her constantly of late and was making her weep as she sat all alone in the dark.

  “Fool,” she admonished herself, wiping her damp cheeks. “Walderon is right when he says it’s better not to care for anything but oneself and one’s own advancement in the world. But he has gone too far. Now that I know what he has done to Chantal, and probably to Jenia, too, I cannot allow him to continue on this path. I have to do something to stop him.”

  Chapter 15

  Walking at Roarke’s side, Jenia entered a small anteroom situated just off King Henryk’s large audience chamber. In anticipation of the coming journey she was dressed in a sensible russet wool gown and sturdy boots, both provided by Garit in the basket he’d sent to Auremont, and her long hair was bound into a single tight braid.

  Without discussing the matter with Roarke, Jenia had decided what she must say when she met King Henryk again. It was her duty to make amends to the king she had wronged. So, the moment he entered the anteroom, accompanied by Lord Serlion, Garit, and Lord Giles, she stepped forward.

  “My lord,” she began, not waiting for permission to speak, “I have done you a great disservice. I am deeply sorry for the harsh words I spoke against you the last time we met. I propose to make a public apology before your entire court, and to declare that I was sadly mistaken about your involvement in Chantal’s death. It’s the very least I can do.”

  “Consider your apology made and accepted,” the king responded. “From the charges you made against me yesterday, it’s clear someone wanted you to believe in my guilt, perhaps with the thought that if you should ever escape you would do exactly as you did, and come to me to accuse me before witnesses. But now, if you declare to my court that you were mistaken, some of my more suspicious nobles will likely conclude that I have coerced you into making such an announcement. Locating the real culprit and bringing him here to Calean City for public judgment will do far more to remove any taint of suspicion from me than a mere apology could do.”

  “My lord, I thank you for your understanding,” Jenia said, making a deep curtsey. “I intend to join the party that will depart from Calean City this morning. Together, these good men and I will uncover the truth.”

  “Roarke?” King Henryk looked at him, frowning. “You are the knight I originally assigned to find Lady Chantal. How do you feel about taking a woman along? Jenia is obviously determined, but I will leave the final decision to you.”

  “I want her with us,” Garit spoke up. “Jenia and I have agreed to join forces in the quest to find Chantal’s killer.”

  “I have no objection to including Jenia,” Lord Giles said. “In fact, I believe she may prove to be especially useful to us. She does know Thury Castle well, having lived there for a time.”

  “I asked Roarke,” King Henryk declared with regal firmness, though with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “We are taking twenty men when we leave Calean,” Roarke answered his king. “Garit has promised to supply thirty men-at-arms from his troops at Auremont. Altogether, they should be more than enough armed force to offer adequate protection for a lady. From my previous experience with Jenia, I do not think she will delay us at all. She rides well enough to keep up with any man, and she has the heart of a valiant knight.”

  “As you wish, then.” Looking from Roarke to Garit to Lord Giles, King Henryk went on, “I have a particular mission for you to carry out in addition to your personal goal. I believe you know Sir Durand of Granvey.” He indicated a man who had entered the anteroom almost silently.

  Wondering if King Henryk wanted the man to travel with them to Thury, Jenia looked him over carefully. His slim, erect figure reminded her of a bowstring drawn taut just before the arrow is loosed. His long auburn hair was slicked straight back from his face and fastened by a leather thong. Impressed by his open expression and by the lithe grace that was apparent even when he was still, Jenia ventured a smile in his direction. He returned only a faint smile, though his eyes twinkled with silvery fire, hinting at easy humor. “I know Durand well.” Lord Giles stepped forward to clasp the young man’s hand with open pleasure. “He trained with me for seven years. I’m glad to see you again, lad. Where have you been? I’ve heard nothing of you recently.”

  “That’s because I’ve been living in the Dominion,” Durand informed him with a mischievous grin. “Surreptitiously, of course.”

  “On assignment from me,” King Henryk said as Roarke and Garit also shook Durand’s hand in friendly greeting. “Durand reached Calean City just a short time ago. I asked him to join us to repeat to you what he has already said to me.” With a gesture he invited Durand to speak.

  “Domini Gundiac is gathering his army in two separate locations,” Durand said, not wasting words. “The first is a threat to southern Sapaudia. The second position is near the Nalo River, where a formerly derelict bridge has recently been repaired. I crossed that bridge on foot, in the dark of night, and I inspected it as best I could without being caught. I have no doubt it will easily support men, warhorses, and supply carts. And that, sirs, threatens northern Sapaudia. As a result of these and other observations I made while in the Dominion, I do believe Domini Gundiac is planning an invasion in the very near future.”

  A shocked silence followed this news, until Jenia found her voice. “The bridge you mentioned lies near Catherstone Castle, which makes me wonder if Lord Walderon has aught to do with those repairs. Catherstone is his ancestral home.”

  “As I recall,” Roarke said, “Walderon’s illegitimate son acts as his father’s seneschal at Catherstone. I believe there is a daughter, too.”

  “Neither offspring has ever attended court,” King Henryk noted. “Walderon’s true heir is his legitimate son by Lady Sanal. The boy is being fostered with one of my nobles until he’s old enough for knighting.”

  Jenia kept quiet. She knew about Walderon’s two illegitimate children, but she hadn’t met them, and neither had Chantal.

  “Walderon would never involve a female in his intrigues,” Garit said. “He thinks women are stupid.”

  “I am well aware of Walderon’s opinion of women,” King Henryk said. “I am also aware that he is not the most honest or devoted of my nobles. Durand, what you have reported suggests a deadly purpose. I doubt if a vital bridge so close to Walderon’s lands could be repaired and he not know of it.”

  “What o
f the second position you mentioned, near the border with southern Sapaudia?” Roarke asked.

  “I wasn’t able to learn the exact location,” Durand said. “However, from something a man-at-arms told me, I assume the place is south and west of Calean. The fact that the man fell silent immediately after what was plainly an indiscretion convinced me that he did know something and knew he shouldn’t have spoken.”

  “Hah!” Garit exclaimed. “Durand, do you know where Thury Castle is?”

  “I see what you’re suggesting,” Durand answered, “Isn’t Thury Castle just two or three days’ ride south and east from Calean City?”

  “It is,” King Henryk said, “which is why I want all of you to take note of any unusual activity along your way. Your search for Walderon will provide an excuse for your presence at Thury. When you find Walderon, learn as much as you can from him, while taking great care for your own safety. Until we have proof we must assume that Walderon is loyal, but if he’s not, then he will be dangerous.”

  “Walderon is capable of working magic,” Jenia informed the men.

  “Now, that I did not know,” King Henryk said.

  “Only a very few people are aware of his abilities.” Jenia paused. Then, because she wanted both Lord Serlion and the men who were going with her to know, she added, “I have reason to believe he has corrupted his Power.”

  “All the more reason for you to be careful,” King Henryk said, looking at the little group with grave concern. No one flinched, or showed any sign of unease. All of them returned his steady gaze with confidence. “Very well, then, you have my permission to leave Calean City whenever you are ready. I wish you a safe journey and success with your mission.”