by Ruth Kaufman
“I’m on the mend and must think of the future,” Morgan said. “And my return to the road.”
“Jankyn ap Lewis might still be waiting for you.” Annora took a few steps closer so he’d have to look at her instead of the apothecary.
“What’s this?” Ninian asked.
“’Tis how I ended up here. He shot me, and I ran.”
Ninian made a “tsk” sound. “Why didn’t you call upon— Never mind. ’Tis too late now. Even you cannot change the past.”
First ap Lewis, now the healer. What could Morgan do? Was he some sort of sorcerer?
Of course not. Every good Christian knew magic was heresy. Priests condemned it as wicked, devilry. Morgan didn’t seem evil. Neither had Roger, though she’d sensed something unpleasant about both her uncle and Jankyn ap Lewis from the start. Morgan instilled alluring curiosity and drew her like no other. Unless doing so was one of his spells.
Of course not.
Morgan and Ninian exchanged another of those infuriating, enigmatic smiles.
But what was he hiding? It shouldn’t matter, for he’d leave soon and trouble her no more.
She wanted him to stay.
“I need to fetch more water.” She grabbed a bucket and left.
• • •
Morgan watched her go, glad for a few moments alone with Ninian. He wished there was no need for secrecy, especially when he sensed Annora’s hurt and confusion while they spoke in the old tongue.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Ninian commented as she packed jars in her bag. “Like an exquisite bird.”
“That she is,” he agreed. “Also strong, determined and clever. Her problems would defeat many women, but she plans to win her fight. Would that I could help.”
Ninian’s head snapped up. “You want her,” she said, surprise evident in her tone. “I haven’t heard you speak so in decades. Maybe a century.”
“No denying she is beautiful.” Or that he’d been attracted to her from the moment she sat near him. “All I want is to repay her for hiding me from ap Lewis, the law in this land despite his sinister bent. And for caring for me, a complete stranger.”
“Then why not offer your aid? You have to resume your quest, but how long could helping Annora take, a handful of mortal months? A year? What is that to us?” She finished filling her bag.
“I sense my father growing ever weaker. I must relieve his suffering and free him before his powers wane completely,” Morgan said. “So he can serve his king again.”
“Perhaps his powers will return once he is freed.”
“None of our kind has been trapped in a cave before. We can’t know what will befall him while he remains there. Or after he’s released. That’s why every rise of the sun increases my impatience. Makes me feel more like a failure.” Morgan tossed back the covers and slid his legs off the bed. He stood until a wave of dizziness forced him to sit.
“Even you need to go slowly today.” Ninian opened her bag again and extracted a small bottle. “Have you learned where Merlin’s captor hides?”
“I thought I’d found her lair, but she’d moved on.” His hands clutched the side of the bed, crunching the straw mattress. “She’s always one step ahead of me. Would that I knew the extent of her powers. She hid them even from Merlin.”
“I wish I could help,” Ninian said as she measured a few drops of a dark brown liquid into a cup and added the last of the water. “But I have my own quest.”
Ninian was right. He owed Annora his assistance. Though he could never die, wounded as he was he’d have lost several months at least if not for Annora’s aid. She’d trusted him and saved him from hiding in the forest unable to protect himself. In return, he’d help her as she had helped him, selflessly, untiringly. That, at least, would be easy for him.
“I’ve just thought of a way you can help,” he said. “Not me, but Annora. Would William Beauchamp do you a favor?”
“King Edward’s physician? Is Annora ill?” She handed him the cup. “Drink.”
“I don’t think so. But her uncle claimed wardship over her as a lunatic,” Morgan explained. “He drugged her and locked her away. She needs proof of her reason to get her castle and lands back.”
He swallowed. The brew left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Diseases of the mind can be complicated, with many possible causes and symptoms,” Ninian warned. “Do you know for certain that she has a castle? She could be making it up.”
“Did you talk with Emma and Albert? They could verify the details.”
“They spoke only of you. I didn’t know I needed to question them. Did Annora tell you if she was examined by any physicians? What proof her uncle has offered against her?”
“We had other issues to resolve yesterday,” Morgan reminded her with a wry grin. “The only thing she told me was that her uncle drugged her food so that she couldn’t move or speak when he displayed her to her people.”
“Perhaps she suffers from delusions?”
“Annora said no one was willing to oppose her uncle’s word. Apparently he’s close to King Edward. If she could find someone as high as one of the king’s physicians to testify on her behalf, ’twould surely thwart her uncle’s plans and convince the king.”
“Perhaps William Beauchamp will examine Annora if I share one of my secret formulas. He’s been after the recipe for a certain tincture of feverfew for some time.
“From what I’ve seen, Annora seems as much in possession of her wits as you or I. But be aware that such ailments can be subtle, or go into remission for extended periods and return after the victim’s loved ones have been lulled into a sense of security.”
“Do you think she’s that cunning?”
“I just met her. But for you, I’ll help if I can.”
“’Tis settled, then. You’re relieving me of a great debt, Ninian. While you send for Beauchamp, I can leave with a heart unburdened by other responsibilities.”
“Not yet you can’t,” Ninian said, taking the empty cup and setting it on the table. “’Twill take far too long if I travel to seek out Beauchamp and bring him back to Wales. Does Annora have any coin? How long can she live here by herself? The best solution is for you to travel with us to wherever King Edward is holding court.”
“I must continue my quest.” And be free of her temptation. As beneficial as his stumbling upon Annora’s cottage had been to his health, it threatened both his mission and his restraint.
Chivalry had its flaws.
“Is your mind addled? As you well know, I have means to avoid the dangers and censure facing a woman alone on the road. Annora doesn’t.” Ninian paused. “Unless you care for her enough to expose her to our special talents.”
“No. Of course not. Nor should any mortal know of our skills until my father is freed and Arthur, the true king of England, restored. Only then will the world accept our kind of magic again.”
And only when Annora was restored to her home and position would his debt to her be repaid.
What was it about her that made him so protective? More than that, as Ninian had said, he wanted her. Exhausted as he’d been, sleep hadn’t come easily knowing she was an arm’s length away. A simple reach to touch her, hold her close. But he had the uncomfortable feeling that once wouldn’t be enough.
“Very well. I’ll escort you both to King Edward,” Morgan agreed. At least Ninian would serve as chaperone and keep him from acting on his desire for Annora. “But no spells of any kind along the way. I don’t want Annora to know about us. She may be strong, but she has enough to handle.”
“I agree. Though our journey ’twill be harder to accomplish without our Mysteries,” Ninian said. “Morgan, we’re assuming Beauchamp will find Annora to be well and rational. Perhaps you should consider what you might do if he agrees with her uncle and thinks she’s a lunatic.”
• • •
Annora hauled her heavy bucket back to the cottage, sweat gathering on her brow despite the morning chill
. Chores she’d completed in the past few weeks had carved muscles into her arms. Her mental strength had increased, too. She could take care of herself. One could thing to come out of her troubles.
She pushed open the door to find Morgan standing, supported by Ninian. With a gasp, Annora dropped her bucket, splashing water onto her skirts.
“Morgan, ’tis far too soon for you to get up.” She pressed her lips together before more unthinking words spilled forth. With one sentence, she’d questioned Ninian’s judgment and revealed her desire to keep Morgan in her care.
Their silvery heads lifted in unison. Morgan braced himself on the back of the chair. Ninian eased away until he stood on his own. All three were silent, appreciating Morgan’s improvement.
He’d leave all too soon. Leave her alone with her worries until Emma and Alfred returned.
“Annora, you have saved me,” he said. “In return, I offer you my aid, my strength, my intelligence, and all that I am for as long as it takes until you are restored at Amberton.”
Her heart sang with hope. She had a champion. One who believed she had full possession of her wits. Or perhaps he offered aid without needing to know. After all, she’d helped Morgan without knowing anything about him.
Morgan glanced at Ninian. “As much as you’ve already given, I need to make another request. I know you’re curious about my past and why Jankyn ap Lewis seeks me, but I must ask you to accept me as the man you see. Not to inquire about the man I’ve been,” he said. “Do you understand? Do you agree?”
Annora frowned. She’d been willing to tell him about herself, even reveal most of the shameful things Roger had done to her. Yet he expected her to entrust herself to his care without knowing anything about him. On the other hand, Ninian trusted him and obviously supported both his wish to help Annora and his need for privacy.
What on earth could he be hiding? Was he a former thief or murderer? But then, what difference did it make who Morgan was, if he could help her? Annora had been desperate for an advocate. Now she had one.
“I do,” she said, despite a niggling doubt.
With great care, Morgan lowered himself into the chair. “Very well. Here’s our plan. Ninian is acquainted with one of King Edward’s physicians, William Beauchamp. He was also physician to Henry VI, who had extensive periods of what many call madness, so he has vast knowledge of strange ailments. We shall bring you to him. Given there are yet pockets of rebellion against Edward in the north, we’ll use caution as we travel.”
“How will we find the king?”
“The court moves frequently, but once we’re in England we’ll come upon someone who knows where he will be,” Ninian said.
“After Beauchamp examines you and finds you well, you’ll have the proof you need to remove your uncle from Amberton,” Morgan continued.
Annora squirmed. What must Ninian think of her, brought low by an uncle’s accusations? Did the healer, ever wondrous, ever in charge, think she could cure Annora’s ills as easily as she had Morgan’s?
And Morgan had made it quite clear his offer of aid was only to repay his debt, not because he wanted to help her. He must not share the surprising attraction and connection she felt for him.
How could she be so petty as to resent the motivations behind their offer? She needed all the help she could get. Whatever the reason, both were setting aside their own goals so she could attain hers.
Suddenly her blood froze. What if they both agreed with her uncle, and sought to return her to captivity? She couldn’t, wouldn’t believe that.
Now she’d get her wish of spending more time with Morgan. Unfortunately, she’d see more of Ninian, too. Ninian earned a living creating cures for other people, easing and curing their suffering. She, Annora, carried buckets of water and prepared soup while existing on the charity of others and running out of coin. No wonder Morgan preferred the apothecary.
“Morgan, I must ask two questions before we proceed with your plan,” she said.
“And they are?”
“Did you kill Jankyn ap Lewis’s men? If so, why? If you can’t even tell me that much, I won’t be able to trust you. You know how much I need your aid, but if you won’t answer, I’ll have to refuse.”
He pursed his lips, then met her gaze. His eyes had changed again, to the subtle green of moss. “I did kill those men. Four, to be precise. Why? So they wouldn’t kill me.”
Annora sighed with relief. She believed him. Uncle Roger, when he lied, had never been able to look her in the eye.
“I willingly accept your offer of aid,” she replied, feeling regal as a queen with a knight kneeling in homage at her feet.
Morgan took a few careful steps, until Annora felt his delicious warmth. He smelled spicy from Ninian’s remedies. “Are you sure? The journey won’t be easy for a lady such as you,” he cautioned. “At some point we’ll buy horses, but we have many miles to walk first. Some of the terrain is rough. We won’t have the best accommodations. We may face brigands, ap Lewis’s men….”
She’d brave any dangers to remain in his company. No man had offered so much for her. Not to mention that his mysterious past somehow added to his allure when it should have made her suspicious.
“I want to go,” she said. “I have to get Amberton back.” And my sense of worth.
“Then we’ll leave at nightfall,” Morgan said. “Annora, you’ll have to disguise yourself as we approach the larger towns.”
“An excellent idea,” Annora said. Odd that they were both being pursued by enemies. At least they had one thing in common. “Emma said Roger still has men searching for me. If he captures me, he’d make sure I could never escape again.”
A fate worse than death.
“You’ll need a wig, for certain,” Ninian added.
Morgan nodded. “And boy’s clothes. She’ll appear to be our son.”
Their son? She’d have to conceal her looks and be less appealing to Morgan while Ninian flaunted her charms as his loving wife. Stop those ungracious thoughts.
Scheming came so naturally to Morgan and Ninian. The realization didn’t make her suspicious but want to be an active participant in her restoration.
“Morgan, you need a wig as well,” she said. “Your hair will draw ap Lewis’s men like a beacon. And your height distinguishes you. Perhaps you should hunch over.”
He looked at her with appreciation. “Yes, of course. I thought only of you.”
And I of you. “What of your eyes? Ap Lewis mentioned how distinctive they are.”
Ninian said, “He’ll have to cast his gaze down as oft as possible. Not an easy task for a man so proud,” she added with a wry grin. “Let’s make a list of supplies we’ll need.”
“I have no coin to pay for our journey,” Annora admitted.
“I have sufficient coin. Morgan will have access to funds once we cross into England,” Ninian said.
Annora had had enough of living off the kindness of others. “I’ll tally our expenses. And repay every groat when Amberton is mine again.”
Assuming they succeeded. She’d not ponder what would happen if they failed.
Chapter 4
Annora leaned against the damp wall of the small cave, glad for bit of rest. Her legs ached after miles of arduous walking. What she wouldn’t give for a bath. A soft bed.
The past three days living in the open with people she barely knew had been awkward, to say the least. Attending to personal needs was strange, and keeping pace with the speedily recovering Morgan and fit Ninian a constant challenge.
The journey had begun as two and one, but now she felt as if they were three, bound by shared goals.
She couldn’t help but look forward to those moments when Morgan would take her hand to help her over a fallen tree, when he’d be close enough for her to inhale his enticing scent. The few times she glimpsed a fleeting smile. He was so different from her uncle that he was beginning to restore her faith in men. If only he’d look at her again the way he had in the cottage
, his gaze intense and hot, as though he thought her special. As though he were attracted to her.
They walked for hours at a stretch down endless roads and through villages that blended into one another, discussing strategy and their roles. Primrose rode in a sack slung over her shoulder, occasionally mewing plaintively.
Each night Morgan found a cave, similar to the one they camped in now, or an abandoned hut. He slept across the entrance as the first line of defense, with Ninian in between. Why Morgan thought Ninian better able to defend herself than she, she didn’t ask. Especially since the answer would probably annoy her.
Sleeping atop rough ground with only a blanket to protect her yielded soreness when she woke, as if she’d aged a score of years. Her stomach rumbled from paltry meals. If she was hungry, Morgan must be starving. But she’d do whatever it took to regain all Roger had stolen.
• • •
“Might I go to the stream and wash?” Annora asked. “I know have to smear on more dirt on the morrow, but I’d like to feel clean for a short while. ’Tis not as cool tonight as last night.”
She stood before him, dressed in her boy’s clothing, short enough that her head didn’t hit the top of the cave as his did if he forgot to duck. Her auburn hair looked matted. Dust from the road covered her. Mud masked her smooth skin, but not her delicate features.
Their location seemed safe enough. Though animals abounded in the woods, they hadn’t seen nor had he heard another person for hours. Ninian could protect herself.
“Very well. I’ll go with you.”
“Morgan!”
“To be sure no beasts see fit to make a meal of you,” he finished, though the thought of joining her in the stream sent a rush of need through him.
Ninian dozed, clearly uneasily, on her blanket. Lack of privacy prevented her from releasing her energies. If he kept her away long enough, Ninian could do just that. Because after a few days without casting any spells, she might drop into a deep sleep for minutes or hours at a time. How he’d explain that to Annora, he didn’t know.