Timeless (Maiden Of Time Book 3)
Page 21
But Leofrik was no one’s huntsman. Not anymore.
He felt a strange kinship with these vagrants—having been an unwitting pawn in Ulric’s war. He would never be used by the nobleman again, and he was determined that they shouldn’t be either, whatever the cost.
He resumed. “Although we hope to enter and exit without notice, we must prepare for the worst. We will need to place people along the way to keep our path open. If we breach the fortress by night, we will have to penetrate closed gates. Day will provide less resistance; however, the guards will be in abundance. They carry swords and daggers, making it difficult to attack at a close range.”
“We are going to rescue a child, not fight a war,” Lucian reminded. “We prefer to take no life.”
“Which I admire, but they will not mercifully lay their weapons down. We must prepare, which means we shall have to gather or construct weaponry before engaging the enemy. Have you any skilled in the forge?”
Sarlic stepped forward. “We have no need of a forge. Not with our gifts.”
Leofrik shuddered. The inflictor had recovered, and after a thorough searching of his mind, he’d been declared free of external influence.
“We will use what weapons we have then,” Leofrik agreed. “But as you have proven, we must be on guard if this, this thing can take hold of anyone at any time. Most of the strong will go with us, and most the weak will remain here until we return—but not all. There must be countermeasures on both fronts.” He breathed the reality in. He was really doing this: leading them to the child, and then assassinating a corrupt lord.
And what would become of him? Imprisonment? A quick death? He squeezed the toy wolf and let it go. He didn’t know what his fate would be, but he owed Velia her child’s freedom. He’d kill Ulric as he’d sworn. If the cost was his life, the cost was his life.
***
Kiren and Zephaniah reached camp as the sun dipped below the horizon. Zeph agreed arriving after dark would be better to avoid attention over Kiren’s obvious blemish. He would let people believe it was an injury sustained in Alexia’s rescue, but he wouldn’t like it.
Alexia stood as they arrived, her skin warmed by the campfire. She was surrounded by people who cared for her, all asking her about her adventures and fussing over her comfort. Young Willem even held onto her like he’d decided he was the man in her life.
Warmth filled Kiren’s heart. She was loved.
After a quick meal, he escaped to avoid the stares and accusations. The whispered allegations hurt, but not as much as gazing upon Alexia, knowing she had refused him again and would always refuse him. He needed space to think. To grieve.
His Alexia.
How had it happened? When? Did it even matter? The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and his would not be silenced. She would have him. She was married in a far distant time, but he could erase that if he married her now and kept her for his own. For all he knew, she wanted that. She would be his. Only his. An extremely powerful woman, a worthy companion, his future queen. The merits couldn’t be argued. But if he desired her just because of her gift, he was worse than a snail under a log. Scum not worthy to reside on her boot.
She had no father or brother to negotiate her marriage, which left it to her liege lord. Amos. Surely the old man would see the wisdom in giving Kiren what he wanted.
He made a straight line for their leader. Amos stood over Velia’s wrapped body, talking softly with Mae.
“…dead by Sarlic’s hand,” Mae said. “He was not in his right mind.”
Amos turned, bringing the conversation to a halt. His eyes expanded and his shoulders stiffened. “Unless you have come to miraculously bring the dead back to life, we have no business.”
No apology then? Kiren exhaled and squared himself. “I think we do. Walk with me?”
***
Alexia looked up from Willem when Amos’s shadow fell over her. His mouth formed a straight line, hands fisted at his sides. She rose, asking him with a look what was wrong.
He nodded away from the others, into the outskirts of the firelight.
“What is it?” she asked when they reached an appropriate distance.
With a sigh, he turned to face her, eyes on the ground. “Have you considered what will happen to your child if you do not survive childbirth?”
She nodded. “I have asked Mae to watch over her.”
He let out a slow breath.
“Amos, speak. Do not withhold what is troubling you.”
He groaned. “Perhaps it would be best if you were to marry.”
“Marry?” Her eyes darted to the camp, to Kiren sitting next to the fire, laughing with Zeph. His gaze lifted to hers and his smile disappeared.
“Within the bonds of marriage, a man would be required to provide for your child, and as you insist that it will be a girl, she will need a protector.”
She turned back to him. “Mae is strong enough to protect my baby.”
He nodded. “She is, but—”
“Then why this discussion? And why now? You did not say anything months ago.”
“Your time is nearing, Alexia.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
“Think of it this way. A woman cannot work the land. She cannot plough with a horse and plant. She must spend her time sewing and cooking and raising children. How is Mae to do both when she cannot even eat without a gold cuff? Think about the burden you place on her.”
Alexia bit the inside of her lip, hating his words and that she hadn’t considered how great a difficulty she left Mae. If they made it to this new world, her friend would be required to provide all for the little one. If they didn’t, Alexia had assumed the Passionate would remain together, that her baby would be safe inside their collective strength. But what if they weren’t?
“If I marry and then die in childbirth, the bond would claim both of us,” she argued.
“Unless you do not consummate your marriage.”
He was right. She hated how right he was and knew it was because someone in camp had inquired after her hand.
Amos tugged at the front of his tunic, dusting imaginary dirt free. “You are not required to consummate your union, but to join in matrimony.”
“Now it is required?”
He shook out his hands, head turning heavenward. “I do not like asking this of you.”
“Then do not.”
“—but for your child’s sake, it must be done.”
She bristled and glanced at Kiren again. He appeared engaged in what Zephaniah was saying, but a quick twitch of the eyes her direction said he was listening in.
“He asked you to speak with me.”
Amos let out a heavy breath. “Offered to stay permanently and be our healer if I can convince you.”
“And you decided not to begin with that?”
He dropped a hand on her shoulder. “He requested that I present it as my idea, not his. Do understand, I did not wish to place that burden upon you. You sacrifice so much for us.”
Although she appreciated his sentiments, it was this final argument that won her. She could marry Kiren. He would be responsible for the baby. On top of that, he would become the man who loved and cared for the Passionate. It was right. Exactly right. And if she never fully bonded with him, surely he would survive her death. He had been alive in her time which meant it had to be the case.
She huffed. Kiren. She’d known the considerate, cautious version of him, but this determined, fiery soul was almost more fun.
So be it.
He’d get what he asked for—let him deal with the consequences.
Alexia folded her arms and faced Kiren from across the distance. “He will have to ask for himself.”
Kiren stood immediately, startling Zeph. With a wave of assurance to his friend, he turned her direction and approached, determination in his lowered brows.
Amos backed away. “Do not allow him to frighten you into this. If you say no, I will uphold your choice.”
She blinked. She opened her mouth and closed it. His wife? No “Marry me, please” or “Will you do me the honor?” It was no question at all, but a demand.
He crossed his arms. “You have no good argument against it.”
“Except for your lack of chivalry.” Even so, Alexia could breathe for the first time in ages. The world was right. Kiren wanted her, wholly, completely, forever. This was the sweet man who had lost his family and found it again in her! And if she could survive childbirth, she may actually know what it meant to be his once more. She was ready to crack this brooding demeanor and melt into the haven of his arms—
But why?
The excitement died like a butterfly crushed under a boot heel. Was it just because he couldn’t have her? Because she’d refused him enough times? She’d been accused of trusting too easily, and here she stood again on the brink, ready to dive before knowing his motives.
He watched her like he expected an answer this instant.
“Why?” she asked.
He flinched. Did the edges of his new scar turn whiter? One might think she’d slapped him rather than voiced a question.
“Because I asked?”
“You did not. You commanded like a pampered, pompous prince. Do you expect to start a marriage on that foundation?”
He licked his lips and tugged a hand through his hair. With a straightening of the shoulders he said, “Allow me to start again.”
She leaned back, waiting.
He grinned. “The truth then: I have thought of you every day since I first saw you.” He clasped her hand in both of his, clasped it like she might escape his grasp forever if he didn’t keep hold. “You said you would torture me no more when you left me at the church, but not being by your side is torture. Not knowing what you are thinking is torture. Not knowing you are safe or feeling you smile upon me is torture.”
“So you wish merely to ease your torment?” she challenged, certain he didn’t understand what he was asking. Marriage. Bonding. Eternal commitment. Eternal connection. Eternal dependence.
He lifted her fingers, cradling them between his as if praying. “You make me better, Alexia.” He whispered. “Make me want to be better.”
She blinked, not expecting so profound a confession.
“You also make me want to scream.” He chuckled and she laughed with him. “But that is good for me—the challenge. I have lived enough years without anyone expecting anything. I have been selfish.” He brushed her cheek. “You remind me of my purpose.”
“Which is?”
“To become the man my father would smile upon.”
Alexia shivered. Rarely had he spoken of his father. Bringing up the dead king who was his north star, he had to be serious.
“And here I am, being that selfish man when I say, be my wife.” He lifted her fingers to his mouth. “God forgive me, I think I will always be this selfish.”
She released a tentative grin. From the fear behind his humor, he really wanted her—even if he didn’t know it fully. He was not the man she loved from the future, but he was getting there.
“I am going to die, Kiren. In childbirth. Are you prepared for that?”
“I will keep you alive.”
She loved his certainty, but he couldn’t know for sure. Only one person did. Alexia closed her eyes and stepped out of time, the shift from everything to nothing. No wind, no pollens, no Kiren. Lester/Grandfather waited for her in the absence, and she had only one question for him:
“Will it kill him? If I say yes, will it kill him?”
The man lifted an eyebrow. “What does yer gut tell you?”
She focused inward, pushing past the awkward knot of nerves and clouding fear. With clarity, she could see smooth fields and blue skies, not knolls and angry cliffs. The way forward looked clear. It felt clear.
“You are a terrible guide,” she teased. “I have to discover everything for myself.”
Grandfather smirked. “I never claimed to be guidin’ no one.”
“Will you wish me well in my marriage?”
“Aye, and a whole bit more. I’ll wish you joy.” He placed a kiss on her brow. The tenderness sank in, and she missed Father for one terrible moment. Father, Sarah, so many others, but strangely, she didn’t miss Kiren anymore. She didn’t have to.
“Goodbye, Grandfather.” She returned to time, standing before Kiren as he watched her expectantly, waiting for an answer. “You will not be allowed to touch me.” Not in the intimate ways he desired.
“For now.” His eyes darkened.
Her breath caught. She didn’t know if she could do this. Being near him was one thing, but being married to him and not giving in? She breathed deeply and hoped her future Kiren would forgive her. If he was allowed to be greedy, she was as well. “Would you call me selfish for consenting?”
Kiren caught her shoulders, jaw dangling. “You will?”
“You expected me to say no?”
“Well, I—”
“Then why did you bother asking—nay, demanding?” What was with this confounded man? If he didn’t want to marry her, why wouldn’t he leave her be?
Various sounds escaped his mouth as he worked to form a response, nothing coherent. A speechless Kiren. Incredible.
She rolled her eyes. “I will be your wife, if you will be my husband.”
He squirmed under her scrutiny, and she turned her gaze to the navy sky beyond sheltering leaves. He was worse than a child. Tell him he couldn’t have something and he’d fight to the death for it. Tell him he could, and he’d fight like a lion against it.
He swallowed, hard. “You understand what that means?”
“That I will be your queen when and if you are restored to your throne? That you will have countless enemies who seek to exploit your weaknesses? That I must be willing and able to win my own battles? Yes, I quite understand.”
He blinked at her several times. “I suppose you do.”
Alexia crossed her arms. “And you must understand that you will lose me.” Else he would have been different. It had to be that way, unless they might somehow rewrite time? Unless they’d already begun to rewrite it? No. The timeline was sure. “Our days together will be limited. That much I know.”
“It cannot be prevented?” His voice was very small.
Her poor, tortured love. “I do not need a husband, Kiren.” What was she thinking? Let him marry her only to lose her? It was cruel. “And you do not need a wife. We are better this way.” It was a complete lie, but she avoided his gaze so he couldn’t read the truth.
His hand dropped over both of hers, halting them from fidgeting with her robe. “Stop, Alexia. For me?”
The last two words killed her protest. It was rare to hear him beg.
He took her fingers, teasing warmth into them while his eyes locked onto hers. “I have every confidence you are adequate on your own. Why, I am inclined to believe you might sprout wings and fly if you desired, but I want you firmly bound to the earth because this is where I reside. If you took to the sky, I would stand every day watching for you to pass overhead.” His fingers locked into a ring around her wrist. “It is humiliating to admit, but if you will have me, I wish to be the man who holds your chains—even for a short season. You will be my prisoner, and I will be yours.”
“That is where you are wrong, Kiren.” She brushed a hair from his cheek. “This bonding is not a prison. It gives you the power to take wing. I would have no other flying companion, unless you are determined to remain upon the earth?”
He smirked, meeting her gaze, stars glittering in his firmament. “I have always adored the sky.”
“As have I.” She grazed a finger across his lips. “It resides in your eyes.”
He sucked in a breath. She barely had time to brace before his lip
s possessed hers. Warmth exploded through her chest, a passion she had trapped and staunched so fiercely it tore at her soul. Compounded by his own, they might light the world aflame. Heat exploded over them both like a fiery sun—the first true sunrise after ages of darkness. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. Needed more. From the way his fingers raked down her body, his blood burned for her as well.
This was going to be impossible.
He pulled away and tugged her through the trees. “Before this campaign at the fortress, before you have room to reason, before another sunrise, I am taking the choice away. Tonight, you are my bride.”
“Tonight?” she asked.
He grinned at her, and she lost the power to walk straight. It was exactly what she wanted.
They stumbled into camp where numerous eyes turned to their clasped hands as Kiren dragged her across the encampment. He stopped before Lucian.
“You married Gerbaud and Thiphania when I was…” Kiren stilled. “Before.”
“I did. God rest their souls.”
Kiren pulled her next to him. “Marry us.”
Gasps filled the camp.
Alexia glanced down at her loose hair, her priestly robe, her unwashed hands. She sighed. It seemed her fate. No wonder Kiren had fought so desperately in the future to give her the wedding she deserved—because this certainly wasn’t it.
Well, better to marry the man than wait for perfection. Peace settled in her heart and took up permanent residence. Some things were meant to be. She and Kiren were one of them—no matter the time, no matter the circumstances.
People circled them, astonished looks passing from one to another.
Lucian opened his mouth to protest, but at Alexia’s encouraging nod, he turned to Kiren. “Dost thou promise in the sight of God that thou wilt keep Alexia as thy wife; that thou wilt have her and hold her in faith and fidelity, in health and sickness, and in all other misfortunes; and that either for better or for worse, thou wilt not replace her with another, all the days of thy life?”