Forbidden Magic

by Catherine Emm

  "Your cousins would be proud of you, Sir Hadwin," she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "As I am."

  "Tis best you wait to tell me such when we stand on the lands of your father, Jewel. Only then might I deserve it." Setting his helm on the pommel of his saddle, he turned to assist her up onto the horse he had brought for her to ride. "The snow is to our advantage," he said, handing her the reins and turning to mount his own steed. "It will cover our tracks and make it nearly impossible for anyone to see us should our disappearance be discovered too soon." Dropping his helm into place, he took up his reins and smiled over at her. "Ready?"

  Jewel returned his smile as courageously as she could manage and nodded, then kicked the horse's sides to fall in behind Hadwin's lead. But as they approached the open portcullis, Jewel glanced back one last time at the darkened shape of the castle blanketed in a soft veil of snow, her hand absently running down the smooth fur of her mantle. She had planned to leave Burchard and Amery the way she had arrived, her own clothes upon her back and a burning hatred raging inside her for the one she believed guilty of her family's slaughter. But in her heart she knew she had failed. She had done what Amery had warned her never to let happen. She had fallen in love with him, and there could be no future for them. He had made that quite clear tonight. Letting out a breathless, trembling sigh, she turned her attention back to the road Hadwin had set them on and vowed never to look back. She would prove Radolf's innocence, then begin her life serving God.

  "Before the sun set, I went to the cove and hid a small boat among the trees," Hadwin told her. "We shall use it to cross the waters to the mainland. From there we will go to the monastery where Sir Gunther and Sir Amery left their steeds. The monks know me and that I am one of Gunther's knights. They will readily give us the mounts we need to continue our journey."

  "If we do not stop along the way, how long will it take us to reach Harcourt?" Jewel asked, pulling her mantle tightly around her when a sudden gust of cold wind tried to whip it from her.

  "We must stop, Jewel," he replied, smiling sympathetically. "The way is too far and we would fall asleep astride our horses. But do not fear. There is an old man along the way who knew ray father and would willingly give us comfort in his humble dwelling. We will be safe there for as long as we wish to remain. But let us not worry about such matters until we have left the Isle of Wight." He smiled again, then concentrated on the path they took.

  Jewel watched his tall, youthful figure deftly maneuver his huge destrier as if it took no effort at all, and she mused that he would someday make a young damsel very happy as her husband. They would live on the lands of Jewel's father and raise their children there, and Jewel wondered if, perhaps, Hadwin would honor her by naming a daughter after her. A bright smile parted her lips, and she quickly clamped her teeth together to keep from laughing out loud. Here she was planning out Hadwin's life and naming his children, when he had yet to meet his bride. A sadness came over, her suddenly when she thought about her own future and how drastically it had changed in a course of a few weeks. What she faced was not what she had always dreamed of, but at least she had a life to live. Her little brother and two sisters had none at all.

  It was a five-mile,distance to the shoreline and the boat Hadwin had hidden for them. Both knew the urgency in reaching it before someone at Burchard discovered their absence, and thus they rode swiftly and silently for nearly half an hour. The snow had lessened slightly, making their journey somewhat easier, and although the moon was hidden behind dense clouds, the white blanket of snow on the ground cast its own kind of light. Tall, dark, barren trees lined both sides of the road, acting as quiet sentinels observing the trek of the two who passed by. A strange stillness encased it all, save for the rhythmic pounding of hooves against the hard, frozen earth, yet none of it held the serenity this eve should have instilled.

  Jewel had foolishly forgotten to take a pair of fur gloves and by now her hands were quite cold. She longed to warm them by a fire, but if given the chance, she knew she would decline it. Reaching Harcourt was more important, and they had a long way yet to go. Then, almost as if her thoughts had been transposed into reality, she spotted the dim light of a campfire a short distance ahead by the side of the road.

  "Hadwin," she called, suddenly worried over who it might be.

  "Yea, Jewel, I see," he answered, his eyes trained on the dark figure standing near the flames as he reined his horse in beside her.

  "Is it a guard from Burchard?"

  "Nay, 'tis too far from the gates. I suspect he is only a weary traveler."

  "But he has no horse, Hadwin," Jewel pointed out. "Who would journey in such a way?"

  The darkly clothed man moved then, presenting them with his profile, and Hadwin gave a short, relaxed laugh once he recognized the stranger's garb. "'Tis only Brother Howard," he assured her. "He lives in the monastery where we will get new steeds and is probably on his way to Burchard." One brow slanted upward. "Strange he would stop along the way," he murmured.

  "But if he's going to Burchard, he will tell Amery—"

  "Do not worry, Jewel," he interrupted. "Brother Howard will keep our secret once we tell him why we travel on this special eve. Come," he said, smiling encouragingly, "let us pause long enough to recite our story and warm ourselves awhile as we do. He will send Amery around in circles before he would tell the whole truth." Nudging his stallion, he set them off at a quicker pace.

  The sounds of their approach echoed loudly in the quiet and brought the friar's attention to them instantly. He straightened and stepped before the fire, placing his face in shadow with the flames at his back and the hood of his robe pulled down over his brow. He did not speak but watched them closely as they reined their horses to a halt close by.

  "Brother Howard," Hadwin greeted cheerily as he slid from his charger and moved to help Jewel dismount. '"Tis I, Hadwin of Burchard. Hast thou had trouble? Lady Anne expected you sooner."

  Seeing Jewel safely on the ground, Hadwin reached up and removed his helm. Tucking it in the crook of one arm, he took Jewel's elbow and started them to ward the blazing logs. "We have come to beg the warmth of your fire and your discretion," he said with a chuckle, but when he glanced up at the friar for the first time since dismounting, he instantly realized his mistake. Brother Howard was a little man, thin of stature and quite talkative. This man was a good head taller than Hadwin, broad shouldered and had not said a word since they had ridden up. Sensing danger, though he could not reason why, Hadwin pulled Jewel behind him and let his helm fall to the ground.

  "Reveal thy name," he demanded, his gaze quickly taking in the other's attire.

  Though he wore the brown robe of a monk, the garb did not fit him well. The hem barely reached his ankles, the loose sleeves were too short, and its fullness was stretched to cover his huge frame. But Hadwin paid none of that as much, attention as he did the peculiar bulge around the man's middle, as though the garment were meant to hide something.

  "Who are you?" Hadwin insisted again. "And why do you travel the road to Burchard?"

  A huge hand was lifted to push the hood from the monk's head, and Jewel gasped the moment he turned his scarred face toward, the firelight.

  "Ian!"

  "Yea, Lady Jewel, 'tis I," he said with a nod.

  "You know this man?" Hadwin frowned, keeping her safely behind him, for he still sensed something was amiss.

  "He is Lady Edlyn's trusted knight and her lifelong friend," she told him, then spoke to the other. "Why art thou dressed as a monk, Sir Ian? And why have you come? Is Radolf with your

  "I have come to the Isle of Wight at Lady Edlyn's command. Lady Jewel, alone and looking for you."

  Huddled protectively behind Hadwin, Jewel peeked out at the man from around his side, her hands lightly resting on the young knight's back. His muscles were tense, and Jewel knew he felt the same apprehension as she. If they had guessed correctly about Lady Edlyn's part in the massacre at Harcourt, Ian had come for only o
ne reason . . . and it was not to see her safely home.

  "Why, Sir Ian?" she asked. "Why have you come looking for me? Does Radolf know you are here?"

  "Nay, he does not," he replied almost solemnly as he pulled the strings of his robe free. The garment fell away to reveal the huge sword belted at his waist. "And I have come to kill you, Lady Jewel."

  Suddenly, she was shoved to the ground as Hadwin pushed her out of the way. In the next instant, he had drawn his sword, braced his feet, and gripped the hilt of his weapon in both hands, ready to do battle, and tears sprang to Jewel's eyes when she heard the evil laughter that came from Ian. Jewel had heard of the powerful knight's conquests and knew Hadwin was no match for him. The cold steel of Ian's sword rang sharply as he pulled it from its scabbard, and Jewel's body trembled violently as she watched how effortlessly he waved the weapon from side to side with one hand, for she knew in her heart that on this eve of the celebration of Christ's birth two people would die.

  "Jewel!" Hadwin shouted, shadowing the steps his opponent took. "Take yon horse and return to Burchard!"

  The grotesque scar on Ian's face kinked with his smile. "'Twould be a waste of time, foolish one," he said dispassionately. "I will slit you wide, then chase her down before the next snowflake touches the ground."

  "Methinks you boast too much," Hadwin growled. "Your limbs are cold and stiff and aged, while mine have the quickness of youth."

  "Yea, but what of skill, Sir Hadwin?" Ian posed, the sword hanging loose at his side, his eyes trained on his foe. "Methinks you boast too much and confuse your dreams with the simple truth."

  By now, Hadwin had circled around Ian and placed Jewel out of the knight's vision, for Ian had wisely chosen to watch his rival. But a frown flitted across his fair brow and disappeared when he saw that Jewel still did not move but seemed to be looking for something on the ground around her.

  "Jewel, flee!" he ordered, his gaze returning to Ian.

  "Yea, Jewel, flee," Ian mocked with a half smile. "Tis best you do not watch how easily I shall kill this one."

  With that, he brought up his sword and made a long, powerful sweep of it, intending to slash it across Hadwin's - chest. But the young man was quick and saw it coming, and he jumped back a step out of the way. He raised his own and returned the attack, and the two swords met with a pealing clash of steel that rang loudly through the cold, dark, eerie night. Again, Ian brought hack his sword to strike a second time, but with more respect than before. This lad was either foolish or the bravest Ian had ever met.

  The sturdy blades crashed again, rocking Hadwin back on his heels, and he suddenly knew that skill alone would not defeat this knight of Lady Edlyn's. The man had twice

  Hadwin's strength and more than his weight, and the scant amount of wine Hadwin had ingested had been enough to dull his wits. He would have to be quicker on his feet and pray the warrior let down his guard enough for him to strike the fatal blow.

  Jewel cringed each time the clash of steel resounded in the crisp winter air, and for a moment she ceased her search for a weapon that would even the odds against Hadwin and watched in horror as Ian struck time and time again with seemingly relentless energy. Often his blows brought Hadwin to one knee, and through sheer determination alone the gallant knight would struggle to rise, only to fall again. Jewel realized that Hadwin would not last much longer and that if she were going to save both his life and hers as well, she would have to figure out a way and quickly. Glancing all around her, she spotted a thick piece of wood lying in the snow a few yards from her. Scrambling up to her feet, she stumbled toward it, grabbed it in one hand, her cumbersome skirts in the other and spun around. Ian's back was to her, and he had just swung his heavy sword and flung Hadwin's to the ground several yards out of reach. Attempting to reclaim it, the young knight hurled himself through the air, dove, seized the hilt, and rolled up onto his knees, the huge piece of steel gripped in both hands. But Ian had quickly pursued him, certain of his moves, and before Hadwin could lift the blade from the ground, Ian had trapped it beneath the heel of his boot. An evil smile twisted the man's mouth as he stared down at Hadwin, and an instant before Jewel raced up behind him ready to strike with her club, Ian raised his sword one final time and lashed it right to left, severing Hadwin's head from his shoulders. His taste of victory was short-lived, however, for Jewel, unaware of what had happened, swung the heavy piece of wood with all her might and dealt Ian a painful blow across the back of his head. He reeled, teetered forward, then fell heavily to his knees, sprawling face down in the snow, unconscious.

  Only then did Jewel see the horrible death Hadwin had suffered, the stark contrast of scarlet blood against the white earth. Her face paled, and for a long while she merely stood there, staring, with no expression of any kind glimmering in her amber-hued eyes. Her body began to tremble violently. Then, lifting her face toward the heavens, she vented an unearthly scream that echoed through the cold, dark winter night on the wings of madness.

  Chapter 15

  Secretively, Amery had watched Jewel carry little Ella from the great hall and had listened as Anne told her husband that Jewel had insisted on putting their child to bed. As did Gunther, he too wondered if Jewel would be returning to the celebration, and he relaxed-inwardly when Anne assured her husband that Jewel would. But as the minutes dragged by, Amery feared Jewel had had a change of mind and had gone to their chambers for the night. All he had done this eve had been for her benefit, and he had planned more to come. If she did not return to the hall, his scheming would have been for naught. A frown settled on his brow, and he absently left the table where he sat, his empty chalice in hand, and strolled to the hearth as he considered different ways to lure her from their room.

  "More wine, Sir Amery?" a soft voice beside him asked.

  As he glanced up at the one who spoke, an idea blossomed in his head, for he had noticed her subtle beauty and the shy, but encouraging, look the serving maid had given him. His gaze traveled down the slender length of her, then drifted toward the steps leading to the chambers above. Jewel would certainly not remain in their room if he brought this young maid there. With a self-assured smile on his handsome face, he straightened, stepped toward her, and draped his arm around her neck.

  "Only if you will share it with me," he said, holding out the cup for her to fill it.

  "If thou so command, m'lord." She smiled, lifting the pitcher she held.

  The devilish grin sparkled in his eyes as he watched the dark red liquid cascade into his chalice. Yea, Jewel would most certainly not choose to remain when he entered their room with this pretty young thing on his arm. He nodded toward the revelers who laughed and enjoyed themselves close by.

  "Then let us seek privacy away from the noise," he suggested, turning them toward the stairs. When they had reached the top and had started down the hall toward his chamber, he asked, "What is your name? And why haven't I seen you before?"

  "Judith, sire," she replied. "And you have seen me. . . many times. 'Tis your thoughts were always of another, and therefore passed me over."

  Her answer caught him so completely off guard that he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the corridor. "What?" he asked, frowning and taking his arm away.

  "The Lady Jewel, sire," she explained. "Everyone at Burchard knows of your feelings for her." A light blush rose in her cheeks and she lowered her eyes." 'Tis why I was surprised when you asked me to share your wine."

  Tawny brows gathered in a fierce frown, and Amery turned to glare back down the hall. What nonsense did she speak? Were all who lived in the castle fools or just idle gossips with nothing better to do with their time than speculate on something that was not there? His irritable gaze fell on Judith again. Well, he'd give them something on which to bend their imaginations. Taking her arm somewhat hurtfully, he guided them to the door of his room, lifted the latch, and swung the portal wide, expecting to find Jewel sitting in the chair before the fire. The anger on his face turned to surprise and
confusion, for not only was she not sitting in the chair, but the bed and room were empty as well.

  "Is something wrong, sire?" Judith asked.

  Amery's puzzled look swept the room again. Where could she be? Nearly an hour had passed since she had taken the child from the great ball, enough time to see the babe sleeping soundly. Had she, perhaps, stayed in Lady Anne's room to comfort the child and fallen asleep as well? Yea, that was surely what had happened. He turned his attention back to the serving maid.

  "Dost thou know where Lady Jewel took the child?" he asked.

  Judith's own brow wrinkled in confusion. "Young Ella, sire."

  '"Yea," he replied impatiently. "I wish to speak with her."

  "But Lady Jewel is not with the child, m'lord."

  "What?" he said, more confused than ever.

  "Lady Jewel gave the child to me and asked that I put her to bed."

  Suddenly, all the things he and Jewel had discussed in their chambers two days before came rushing back to mind. At the time, he had thought she only played with him when she had spoken of leaving him and how he would not be able to forget her. Now he knew differently. The crazy wench had flown. Moaning inwardly, he closed his eyes and raised his chin in the air. And she didn't just plan to leave him. She intended to return to Harcourt! Damn! She'd be riding right back into Radolf's trap. Looking at the young maid standing before him again, he roughly seized her arm.

  "Where? Where were you when she gave you the child?"

  "In the kitchen, sire."

  "And did you see in what direction she went afterward?"

  Judith shook her head. "Nay, m'lord."

  Shoving his chalice in her hand, he ordered, "Find Sir Gunther and tell him of this while I talk with the servants in the kitchen. Tell him to meet me there."