by Amity Grays
He took her hands in his.
She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight as she stepped back against his warmth. He kissed her cheek and nuzzled against her. More than anything he wanted to take away the pain, to be her strength and her reassurance. And that wasn’t all. He wanted more—her smile, her laugh, her happiness.
Somewhere along their journey she had become more than his charge; she had become someone he admired, someone he cared for more than he should. When had she come to mean this much to him? Perhaps he had felt it from that very first look. He closed his eyes, remembering the photo. It wasn’t hard. Her image had haunted him with a feeling of inevitability, as though they were always meant to meet. Ridiculous of course, but the feeling was real nonetheless.
“Hemart, check the satchels,” Roncin ordered, still standing with the others inside the field of battle.
Dane looked back toward the knights as they searched the fallen men. No doubt they were looking for clues as to who they were and why they were there. A question which Dane would very much like answered.
As Dane watched Hemart step across the fallen bodies toward the horses, an uncomfortable realization hit him.
He’d done the unthinkable. He’d stepped directly into fate’s path and quite possibly altered history. Were the men now lying dead upon the ground meant to see their end? How about the soldiers standing?
His sword had ripped through the flesh of more than one man. He had caught and held a strike destined for Lucas. In short, he had broken a cardinal rule; he had, eyes wide open, charged into a battle never meant to be his. His gaze once more swept the scene. But then again, perhaps it was not meant to be theirs either.
He couldn’t deny it. The mission had shifted forms and become a lot more complicated. New players had emerged and, he feared, not yet revealed their strengths.
Damned if he did. Damned if he didn’t. He had an uncomfortable feeling fate was destined for a turn the moment Edeline Depuis was brought back through the portal. Perhaps he had not so much stumbled into destiny’s path, but rather been pulled.
“Edeline.” He moved his hands to cup her face. Her lovely blue eyes opened to stare uncertainly into his.
“We’re in France,” she acknowledged.
He nodded. “We are.”
“What year?”
“Thirteen-ten,” he said as his fingers caressed away her tears.
“And you’re here to take me home?” she asked, her eyes never leaving his.
“Yes, I’m here to take you home.”
“We need to be moving,” Roncin said, suddenly standing at their side. He handed Dane Laur’s reins. “I’m certain they weren’t alone, only sent ahead.”
Dane nodded and waited for him to step away.
Turning back to Edeline, he wiped away another tear and then bent to kiss her forehead. “He’s right. We need to go now.”
Edeline covered his hands with hers and held them still against her dampened flesh. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she said, her lips once again slightly trembling. Then dropping her hold, she stepped past him toward Laur.
Silently they followed behind the others—past the fallen soldiers and their wandering horses, toward the distant hills. Only this time he pulled her close and held her in something more resembling an embrace, telling himself she needed him.
Heavy lids closed to rest as he kissed the top of her head again.
It was a new feeling for him, but he recognized it for what it was. More than mere attraction and deeper than affection—his feelings for her were growing. And from her reaction on the field, he suspected those feelings were shared. But he hadn’t forgotten what lay ahead. He would take her back, and he would lose her. For the first time in his career, he was contemplating throwing an assignment. “What ifs” played over and over in his head. What if he didn’t take her back? What if things stayed just as they were?
He looked around at the men who were now escorting them back into the hills. Already the past had been changed simply by their meeting. But he hadn’t disappeared. He was still as he had been. If their meeting had changed the course of history, certainly he’d have seen the signs. Perhaps the intrusions weren’t so damaging after all. Perhaps he and she could…
No! It couldn’t happen. As much as he didn’t want to lose her, he knew the risks were real—to both of them and to everyone. In addition to that, she wanted to go home, and he had promised to take her there. The only way to see that promise through was to take her back, and by doing so, erase all they had shared. The portal would send him back to his time, and unfortunately, her back to hers. She’d forget all of this. Her reality would consist only of the life she was now living with her father back in the present and the new future which would be built once Dane put all back into place.
He was going to lose her, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
Edeline watched the men before her—courageous men who lived their lives with honor and for purpose. They rode with confidence, fought with valor, and despite their trials, carried an undying faith. And they knew her father, respected him even.
“Why?” she asked. “Why did we leave? What did my father have to do with the treasure?”
Three uncertain faces turned to look her way, or were they looking over her?
She leaned back and turned her head to Dane. “What? Why shouldn’t I know?”
He didn’t immediately respond. But finally, after a brief glance toward Roncin, he replied. “Maybe it’s not our place.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, holding his uncertain stare. “I have a right to know.”
“You should ask your father when you return,” advised Roncin.
“I’m asking you now,” she persisted. “Dane said my father was a Templar Knight. Is that true?”
“Yes,” answered Lucas from up ahead. Turning to look toward the others, he shrugged his shoulders. “She’s right. It has been brought to rest on her shoulders. She deserves to know as much as we can tell her.” Then looking back toward Edeline, he continued. “Federic Depuis was a fellow knight. He is our brother as much as our friend.”
Edeline swallowed. She’d been through so much already, little could surprise her now.
“All right, very good, so my father was a Templar Knight. That’s not something I expected…certainly not an everyday discovery.” She took a deep breath and tried to imagine her father as one of the men before her. Her father was every kind of honorable man, but still it was hard to fathom. She forced a bright smile. “I’m quite capable of handling the truth. Now tell me how that’s possible? I thought Templar Knights didn’t have families.”
A heavy sigh sounded from behind her. “Can’t this wait?” said Dane. “No one knows your father’s motives better than he. Give him the chance to explain.”
Looking back his way, she could tell by the lines deeply etched across his brow, he was worried. He was doing what he always did—protecting her. But after seeing what she’d seen, she knew their journey would not be without risk. This might be it, her one chance to learn the truth of her past.
“Please, I want to know. I’ve accepted silence far too long. I want to know who my mother is. Who am I? Why, out of all the people in the world, has this happened to me? I mean, really, here I am in this…unbelievable position. Not just miles from home, but centuries. Centuries! Care for me enough to trust me with the truth.”
“You’re right, of course,” Dane said. “The story is yours. Perhaps the more you know of it, the safer you’ll be.”
Edeline turned to the others. “So, my father ran with legends. That’s…well, weird.”
“Legends?” the three knights chorused.
Both Edeline and Dane laughed. The men before them would never understand why they’d be remembered or held in such regard. They were modest men living one purpose, which was serving the Lord. They had no time for, or interest in, the egos of modern man. And that, perhaps, was the very reason their legend lived on.
“
If my father was a Knights Templar, then explain to me how? I thought Templar’s weren’t allowed to wed or have children?”
“There were knights who had families,” assured Hemart. “Many of our brothers joined the order after they’d been married and had children. They’d often join after the death of a spouse. Of course, their children were already grown or wards to another.”
“My father joined after my mother’s death?”
Clearing his throat, Hemart shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…no.”
Confused more than ever, she stared at him blankly.
Lucas slowed to ride beside her and Dane. “Edeline, are you sure you want to know this? It will change nothing.”
“I…” She leaned closer to Dane. “Yes.”
“You love your father, yes?”
“More than words can say.”
He smiled. “Very well…”
She listened silently to their words as they shared a story she would have, on any other day, never believed.
Federic was not her birth father. She had another, Omont Montague, and he had sacrificed his life to protect her.
A soft breeze blew through the branches above as Dane stood beneath the sturdy oak watching the surroundings for any unwanted guests. But try as he may for vigilance, his attention kept wandering to the crystal clear stream and the reflection of Edeline.
It was a lot for her to take in, but she was doing a remarkable job. She was a brave and resilient woman.
Collecting handfuls of water and letting it run over her dust-covered flesh, she glanced his way and smiled. Lovelier than he’d ever imagined possible, at that moment she looked more like a dream than actual flesh and blood.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
“They were not the king’s men,” Roncin said, walking up beside him and motioning for him to follow.
“I was afraid as much,” Dane said, turning to walk beside him and away from the stream. The men’s interest had not been in the three knights. That would not be so if they were the king’s soldiers. “Do you know who they were?”
“No, they were new to me, and I’ve fought beside the king’s men enough times to know their faces as well as their skills. These men were not the king’s. They belong to another. Their clothes bore no markings, but the way they fought…” he said, hesitating a moment as his thoughts seemed to drift to the memory of that afternoon. “They’ve been trained together and fought together more than once.”
“Yes,” Dane said, raking his fingers through his hair, realizing his worst fears were most likely coming true. “I sensed it as well.”
Roncin came to a stop beside his horse. Pulling out his flask from its well-weathered holster, he took a quick drink and then roughly ran his arm across his lips. Slowly his eyes searched the hills.
“What’s bothering you?” Dane hadn’t known Roncin long, but already he felt he knew him well. The knight was afraid, and that alone was terrifying.
Placing his flask back into its holster, Roncin gently ran his hand down the horse’s long neck. Whatever he had to say, he wasn’t finding it easy. Finally, after a sorrowful glance back toward the stream, he replied, “Their interests lay in Edeline.”
Dane remembered the men’s reactions when they’d first seen her. They hadn’t taken their eyes off her for more than a moment’s time. “She’s a beautiful woman. Maybe they were interested in something other than her power, maybe a brazen attempt at abduction? They happen, right?”
“They happen, but I do not believe that was their intent. I think they were hunting. And I believe they found their prey.”
“They were looking for her? You think they know who she is?”
“I do,” Roncin said.
“But how? They weren’t her abductors. I would have recognized them. Certainly you’re mistaken.” Rubbing his hand nervously along his jaw, he glanced back toward Edeline. Her long blond curls flowed free over her shoulders and down her enticingly curved back. She was twirling a wet rag around and around, watching the water drip into multiple circles to dance together in the stream below.
He knew what Roncin was saying was true. He’d sensed it all along. Admitting it, however, meant facing a possibility he hadn’t yet accepted. He might not be able to protect her.
It wasn’t like him to cower from the facts. Always a soldier first, typically he would assess a situation, recognize a course of action and execute. That was that, simple and clear. But there was nothing simple about Edeline, and nothing simple about his feelings for her. She was no longer merely a mission, and protecting her wasn’t only a job.
But if Roncin was right—and somewhere in the denied recesses of his mind, Dane knew he was—protecting her was not going to be easy. To the beasts that followed, she was not human. She was merely a tool. They would use her in any way they pleased and then most likely discard of her. The thought ripped at his heart.
She had asked for none of this, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pay a great price for what destiny had deemed hers.
Roncin stood beside him, watching Edeline sit down beneath the oak where earlier Dane had stood. Seemingly without a care in the world, she dried her feet and then began putting back on the shoes she so vocally detested. He looked to Dane. “I know it seems unlikely, but, yes, I think they know. I am not sure who they are or how they would know, but I think it would be foolish to ignore what could be ahead.”
“You’re sure it’s not the king? I realize it’s not his army, but perhaps he’s hired someone outside his service—mercenaries perhaps?”
“No, it’s not the king. If the king knew of Nicolas’s connection to the treasure, he’d never have let Nicolas die, nor would he have let Omont leave the chamber that first day with Edeline.” With obvious frustration, Roncin shook his head and looked past Dane to the woods. “It makes no sense at all. How would they know?”
No longer willing to deny the facts, Dane sighed. “Regardless of how, we both know there is only one reason they would be after her. And if they know about her, then they know they need the stone. They most likely think she has it.”
Roncin nodded. “I doubt they would believe otherwise.”
Chapter Ten
WORDS FAILED HER. It was beyond magnificent. Ancient stone buildings merged together on each side of the narrow pathway, twisting and turning like a maze to form a complex community of homes, church, and commerce. Overhead and appearing sporadically throughout the quaint villa were stone archways linking one side of the street to the other, establishing an undeniable sense of unity.
“What’s its name again?” she asked Lucas.
“She is the village Vanac.”
“Vanac,” Edeline repeated while doing her best to take in every inch and every detail of the deserted city. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Built in a time when reliance upon one’s neighbors built more than community, Vanac spoke of trust.
The clickety-clack of hooves pulled her attention down.
Stunning.
Emerging from the cracks in the stone pathway leading them through the city, grass peeked and wildflowers grew, adding to the beauty already laid with brick and stone. Such fine work, such precision—had those who had built it proudly walked its path every day?
The horses swayed left around an abandoned cart. Lying one wheel shy along the path’s side, it told a tale of a long forgotten misfortune while leaving behind a mystery. Had it been taking goods to market or was it there to take goods home?
Edeline imagined the streets filled with people. Merchants with long wooden tables would be lining the streets while their patrons wandered in and out between their individual stalls. What would be their goods—fruit, silk, wool, wine?
What would it have been like to live here?
She pictured children playing, women hanging laundry, and men scurrying back and forth between the buildings. What would be their day? She wanted desperately to know, for this mystic wonderland of old would have been her home.
Sh
e looked to her right. Small windows cleverly designed in a multitude of shapes and sizes lined the tall walls, making each building unique and recognizable.
“How did they think of this? So much character built from mere brick and stone. I never would have imagined,” she said, looking anxiously around. “It’s all so clever. I’d love to experience it. I’d love to live in a place such as this.”
“There are still villages standing today with similar design,” Dane said. “They’ve been restored and somewhat renovated through the years, but the idea is the same if not the era.”
Looking up over her shoulder, she caught him vigilantly scanning the narrow streets and tall stone structures. Always a soldier, this man she now admired. She wondered how she could have ever doubted his sanity. Everything about him screamed reliable, trustworthy. He was what she had always oddly sensed: remarkable.
“How similar?” she asked.
He looked down and smiled. “It’s actually amazing how much of the early culture has been preserved.”
“It should be preserved,” Edeline said, thrilled to hear such simplistic splendor still existed in the world. “It’s so warm and inviting. It feels like we’ve walked into her arms and been embraced.”
Dane’s smile softened to a look of appreciation as his gaze momentarily moved to her lips. “I believe that captures it nicely.”
“It is so different from the world in which you live?” asked Hemart, pulling his horse to a stop and quickly dismounting behind Lucas.
“Much different from my world,” Edeline said. “Though our buildings are still close together, the sense of unity is no longer as strong. Everything about my world is new, built for convenience and ease. We’re no longer as dependent on each other.”
She took another long look around at the brick and stone buildings. “Detail and design are still very important to us, but so is space. We like to build up. Thanks to modern-day materials, our buildings can now soar high into the clouds.”
The knights exchanged incredulous glances.
She laughed. “It’s really quite remarkable…but so is this,” she added, her voice growing soulful as she took in their surroundings. “It captures the beauty of nature as well as the artistic vision of man.”