Guardian of the Stone

by Amity Grays

  “Enough!”

  Stunned by his sharp command, she momentarily fell silent. Only her heart’s heavy beats still rang in her ears.

  “Enough,” he had said, and enough was right. None of this made any kind of sense—a strange man, a strange world. If one thing did make sense, it had to be her fear. It was a rational, normal response to awakening in the arms of a stranger in the middle of an unfamiliar forest…on a horse!

  “Aaaah…”

  Lifting high into the timbers, her cries echoed through the hills. Birds flew from the trees, sending tiny leaves floating down to the forest’s floor. The man stiffened as the mare once again began to toss her head and prance in nervous steps. A heavy hand landed firmly across Edeline’s mouth as the stranger pulled her sharply back against his chest.

  “Enough, Edeline. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to take you home.” His light stubble scratching her cheek as his warm breath heated her skin. From the corner of her eye, she watched him scan the long beaten trail, first ahead, then behind. There was no one there, but still he seemed unconvinced.

  The man was careful, conscious, normal-looking, in no way her vision of a villain, but if her father’s many lectures had taught her nothing else, they’d certainly drilled in the lesson of not judging a book by its cover. It was quite possible this shiny cover held the story of a madman, possibly a psychopath or maybe even a serial killer.

  Oh God, a serial killer!

  Air became scarce. Her heart raced even faster.

  What would he do if she attempted to run?

  Images of her mutilated body ran through her head. Deciding it best to remain still, she held her screams momentarily inside, waiting anxiously for the next given opportunity. If he was that nervous about being heard, it had to mean there was help out there somewhere.

  She followed his watchful gaze out into the distant hills, seeing no one, recognizing nothing. Where in the hell are we?

  “I swear, lady, those lungs of yours could call in the dead.” Shifting his position, he searched the hills to their right. “Are you trying to get us both caught?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. Ah…yeah.

  The man had to be a lunatic—certifiably deranged. Had he escaped from the nuthouse or was his breakdown more recent?

  Threatening eyes, black with temper, met hers. “If I let loose, do you promise not to scream?”

  Nodding her head, she prayed him such a fool.

  His hand dropped back to the reins.

  “Help! Help! H…e…l…p!”

  Fury flashed with frustration across his face. Tightening his thighs against the mare, he ordered her up the hill and deep into the woods.

  Curses rumbled past Edeline’s ears as branch after branch swiped against his protecting flesh—scraping and gouging. The steep incline and the mount’s determined charge had her full weight flush against the man’s powerful chest.

  She forced herself to look ahead, desperately hoping to recognize her surroundings. Tall, dense trees rose higher than her vision was allowed reign. Where she could see sky, it seemed blue and clear. She had no idea where they were, but she knew where they weren’t. They were nowhere near LA.

  They took a sudden and sharp decline down a steep, rather jagged gorge. She looked down at the shockingly deep chasm below. If there was an end to it, her somewhat impaired vision wasn’t able to find it.

  The horse’s hooves slid.

  Instinctively she wrapped her arms around the man’s middle, burying herself into his chest as his arms tightened around her.

  “Scream and you’re likely to have us both tossed to the ravine’s floor.”

  Scream? Not likely. She could barely think to breathe.

  Masterfully, he took them down the hazardous slope, his body moving against hers, producing a fluid motion which both balanced and moved them with the beast. With a firm hold and fast actions, he gave the horse direction. Edeline knew horses well enough to know it took a special kind of confidence and self-control to ride a horse down a slope such as this. Both the man and the horse had to be well-trained. If the man was indeed mad, it hadn’t always been true.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they came to a stop.

  At first he didn’t move. It had been a long and harrowing ride down. No doubt even the madman was feeling the stress of the venture. Slowly, she felt his body relax.

  “Off,” he commanded, his voice filled with anger but also unease. The man had been unnerved. Something told her that was rare.

  For a moment she was afraid she’d be unable to move. Every appendage seemed oddly foreign and few were proving cooperative, but the urge to feel the ground was strong. She peeled herself off him and slid down the heated mare.

  She fell as one ungraceful pile to the earth below.

  Had he really believed this would be easy?

  Releasing a weary sigh, Dane rose in his saddle and swung himself to the ground.

  Typically his “rescued” knew his role as well as their own. He was the good guy. Hero, most would say. They’d cling to him and his commands like the desperate souls they were. It was never easy, but this…

  Kneeling down beside her, he studied her disheveled appearance. Sticking sporadically throughout her long, curling, blond hair were varying bits of the surrounding foliage. She was nearly covered with leaves and needles from head to toe. Her lips, a bright, full raspberry-red, were the only thing left unmarked.

  Enchanting blue eyes, still somewhat clouded from the drugs, narrowed and looked away.

  “Would you like a hand?”

  She moistened her lips, shook her head.

  Leaving her where she lay, he stood back up to take a look around the deep gorge and surrounding forest walls.

  There were always threats, but the location was actually ideal. The depth of the chasm and the trees would give them excellent cover. No one would expect them to lodge at the bottom of such a hazardous ravine. As long as he could keep his troublesome damsel from screaming, it would be a good place to hide.

  “We’ll wait here,” he declared.

  She finally looked up. “Where…” Biting into her bottom lip, she hesitated. “Where exactly is here?”

  This time he hesitated. Usually he liked to shoot straight, but “straight” in the case would sound particularly bent.

  A heavy scowl landed between her eyes as fear shifted toward annoyance. “Not sure? Not telling? Am I not allowed to know?” Catching sight of a twig dangling from her curls, she grunted and began brushing her fingers through her hair, dislodging the still-clinging foliage. “All right, fine. Don’t tell me.”

  “I’m not sure it would ease your mind to know.”

  “Not knowing isn’t exactly a comfort.” Taking one last swipe at the clinging debris, she threw her hands into the air. “Can you at least tell me what it is we’re waiting for? Maybe your name? Maybe why you’ve brought me here?”

  Damn. He’d hoped she’d carry some memory, that she’d have some recollection of what had transpired and the predicament she was in. Obviously that wasn’t the case. Her captors had kept her well drugged. She was as ignorant to her circumstance as she was to her history. Convincing her of any of it wouldn’t be easy.

  This was a situation they hadn’t prepared him for. Time had simply been too crucial. His only instructions were to grab the target and bring her back. By the looks of the clear blue sky, that might require a little wait. The portal needed an abundance of energy to operate properly. Without the convenience of bottled electricity, that required a storm.

  “Well?” she asked impatiently.

  With no idea where to begin, he decided to start with the most basic of facts. Taking a deep breath, he then slowly let it out.

  “Here is about twelve hours from our destination,” he said. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Dane Walker, a member of the United States Air Force and Special Operations Task Force. I’m here at the request of General John Matthews and your father, Federic Depu
is. For reasons you wouldn’t believe if I told you, you were kidnapped. I was sent here to find you and bring you home. Unfortunately, that will require we wait for a storm.”

  She stared at him dumbfounded.

  Finally she blinked, shifting her position in preparation for standing. “I don’t suppose you have proof,” she asked, making it to her knees, “some kind of identification, maybe a letter from my father, perhaps a cell phone I could use to call and…verify the facts?”

  Reluctantly, he shook his head. “No.”

  Now standing, she laughed and rubbed her fingers against her temples. “Do you really expect me to believe any of that?”

  Not for a minute.

  “It’s the truth, Edeline. It’s all I have to give you.”

  “I see.”

  She thought him mad, and that would likely prove a problem.

  Stumbling sideways, she braced herself against a thick oak. Bent forward at the waist, she stared at the ground, by all appearances waiting for the world to quit spinning.

  “They drugged you pretty heavily. It will take time for the effects to wear off. The best thing for you would be to sleep.”

  “Right,” she said, pulling out her skirt and wrinkling her nose at the yards of fabric falling in the form of a dress clear to her feet. “What is this?”

  Studying the foreign material, Dane realized, like his own ancient garments, it had to be both heavy and warm. He and Edeline were from a time when comfort outweighed modesty. They were, therefore, unaccustomed to the burdensome fashions of the fourteenth century.

  “It’s a dress,” he replied, watching her take what must have been her first real look at the ridiculous attire.

  Tight sleeves ran the length of her arms, swaddling her into what undoubtedly felt like a mobile sauna. To add to the weight, a sleeveless vest of some kind was thrown over the top.

  “A dress?” she repeated in disgust. “It’s an oven.” Her dark blue pools shot to him. “Good grief, you look even more ridiculous than I do.”

  Looking down at his long linen shirt and simple black cloak, he grimaced as his eyes moved to the tight hosiery beneath. He couldn’t argue.

  “What kind of getup is this? How did I get into this horrid thing?” She gasped as her frown turned into a glare. “Did you dress me? Did you…undress me?”

  His shoulders lifted and fell with a hopeless breath. “No.”

  The look she cast him couldn’t have been more condemning. “I’m pretty certain I’d remember dressing in such laughable attire. For that matter, I’m certain I wouldn’t.” She huffed and turned toward the jagged stones lining the steep hillside. Letting her head fall back against her shoulders, she fisted her hands in the air and growled in frustration.

  “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t. If you wanted me here, and now you’ve got me here, what’s the harm in telling me why?” Her eyes grew wide. Her hands shot up to cover her heart. “Oh, God, this is some kind of ritual thing, isn’t it? A sacrifice of some sort—the attire, the forest—it’s all part of the ritual.”

  He blinked. That was a jump he hadn’t expected.

  She took several steps back, her eyes now wild. Spotting a large branch, she picked it up and held it out in front of her. “Stay back.”

  Holding out his hands as though approaching a spooked horse, he stepped slowly toward her. “It’s nothing like that—no ritual, no sacrifice. I’m really just here to take you home.” He took another step toward her only to have the branch thrust in his gut. “Ugh.”

  “Stay back. I mean it. Stay back or I’ll…I’ll…”

  “Beat me with the stick?” he supplied.

  With the branch still held out in front of her, she lifted her skirt and started backward up the hill. He could have intervened, but he figured it was best he let her realize the futility of her efforts now rather than try to convince her of it repeatedly.

  The chasm was deep. Very little sun ever reached its depths to dry its foliage. The floor was slick and the climb steep. Her feet slipped and slid nearly every step, but she managed to make it up about five feet before she had no choice but to drop her skirt and reach for a boulder.

  Dane stepped toward the hill. “I wouldn’t—”

  Her fingers slipped. Her feet moved out from under her. Dane watched with a mixture of appreciation and humor as she slid on her bottom back down to the base.

  He moved to help her, but she waved the branch frantically in front of him.

  “It’s impossible in this getup,” she said, getting back on her feet and glaring down at her skirt’s heavy fabric. Grabbing a handful of the offensive material, she started to rip.

  Dane rushed her, grabbing and sending the branch flying when she would have used it against him. Taking hold of the skirt, he lifted it up to inspect the damage. Seeing her mortified expression, he tried to explain. “You haven’t got a replacement.”

  Looking down once more at the confining material, she lifted a sardonic brow. “I don’t believe I want one.”

  “It’s crucial to have the right attire.”

  “For the sacrifice?”

  He dropped the fabric and cupped her frightened face. “I swear to you there is no sacrifice. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take you home.”

  Her wide blue eyes now appeared more baffled than cloudy. “Then why do I need this getup?”

  “To appear normal.”

  Her lips pursed. Her lids batted a couple times up and down before she took a shaky breath. “All right, Robin Hood,” she said, pulling his hands away from her face. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but tights hit their fashion peak a few hundred years ago and have since fallen to the category of feminine. And, hey,” she added, lifting her hands out between them, “maybe that’s your thing. I’m not going to judge. But this,” she hesitated, looking down once again to her dress. “This isn’t for me.”

  “Maybe not, but if you don’t leave it be. I’ll have no choice but to bind your hands.”

  She stared at him aghast.

  It was obvious to him now there would be no reasoning with the woman. If he didn’t get her under control, she’d end up getting them both killed, or worse yet, trapped in this merciless era.

  “Look, Edeline,” he said, backing away as he rested one hand casually in his belt and raked the other through his hair, “we both want the same thing.”

  Lifting her brows in mock surprise, she countered. “To see you safely back to the hospital from which you’ve escaped?”

  She was doing much better if she’d now found her wits.

  “Please, Dane, I don’t know why you’ve taken me, but please let me go.”

  “I’m not the one who took you. I’m the one who took you from them, and for no other reason than to take you home.”

  “I’m to believe you’re my hero?” She threw out her arms in exasperation. “Okay, then, fine, Colonel, Lieutenant or whatever you said you were, if you didn’t take me, who did?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t recognize them.”

  “Did they have big heads, antennas, green skin?” She batted her lids, apparently unable to stop herself from poking fun at the lunatic. “Did they penetrate your aluminum cap and command you to take me prisoner?”

  “No. They were very real, very much a danger.”

  “You mentioned a storm?”

  “It’s our passage—the only way back.”

  “You really are insane,” she declared, turning back toward the trail from which they had come. “I’ve been kidnapped by a madman who’s obsessed with the weather. Good grief, I’m in the middle of Lord only knows where…” She stopped, her shoulders slumping as she looked back up the steep path.

  “You’re in France, and I didn’t kidnap you. I truly want only to take you home.”

  Looking back his way over her shoulder, she scoffed. “I can’t decide which of those statements is more preposterous.”

  “They’re both true. Edeline,” he said, moving
to stand beside her. “How much do you know of your birth?”

  “I was born in France.”

  “Yes.”

  “We moved to America when I was a small child. I remember nothing of what came before that. I was only two.”

  “Your father never told you how you came to America?”

  “No. He’s told me very little.” Her brows creased. “What are you getting at? Are you saying you know something of my past?”

  He had no idea how much to tell her. He would have thought her father would have told her. It seemed foolish not to, and in addition unfair. But if he tried to tell her now, she’d never believe him. In fact, it would most likely only reinforce her belief that he was entirely mad.

  “Why France? Of all the places you could have claimed, why did you choose France?”

  “Because we are in France.”

  The afternoon sun beat down through the trees, catching the fear as well as the exhaustion in her downcast eyes. She put on a pretty good front—one of bravery and strength. Not that Dane doubted either. In fact, he was certain she possessed both. But beyond the strength was a young woman lost and uncertain, and beyond the courage was the knowledge of her own limitations. Without a doubt, she was outmatched. She couldn’t fight against his strength, nor could she outrun him. She was at his mercy—a fact recognized, but still unspoken between them.

  Purposefully keeping his voice soft and comforting, he delayed the inevitable. “I’m sure you’re tired. There are probably things you should know, but I’m tired as well and not at all certain where to begin.” He nodded back toward the mare. “I have bread if you’re hungry and blankets for rest. Can we agree on a truce long enough to indulge in both and hopefully gain back our ability to reason?”

  He could see on her tongue lay a sharp and most likely stinging retort, but she held it there carefully as she considered his offer. Suddenly her bottom lip nearly disappeared between gnawing teeth, only to reappear even more luscious and inviting than before.

  “I am hungry.”

  He turned and headed back toward the mare.

  Small, uncertain footsteps followed behind him.

  He patted the mare before pulling the cloth satchel off her back.