“What have you done, Geoffrey?” Hugh said through clenched teeth as he pulled him up by the front of his tunic. “What is this about?”
The chamber grew hot and hotter still as Geoffrey’s cousin glared through narrowed eyes at him. The hand that held his garments in a choke hold glowed red and heat poured off it, aimed at Geoffrey’s chest. He must speak quickly if there was any chance at survival.
“I swear it is not something I chose. I did not. Hugh, I would not.”
“Tell me now. What is this about? What is not your fault?”
“This, my lord,” Geoffrey said as he held out his arm and showed his cousin the newly burned area there.
Sheer and utter silence slammed down around him, and the only sound he heard was that of his own labored breathing. Nothing moved. Hugh did not grasp him tighter or release him. Hugh’s gaze then began to shift back and forth, from Geoffrey’s arm to his face. Over and over until Hugh suddenly released him and he fell to the floor. Geoffrey remained there as the strangest expression fell over his cousin’s gaze.
Geoffrey had once seen a man being treated for a palsy by the brothers at the abbey. The man had gone into strange and unusual fits. One moment or for several minutes even, he remained completely still, almost statuelike in his bearing. Then, without warning, the man would drop to the ground, rolling and contorting and frothing at the mouth like a madman.
Was that affliction now in control of Hugh? Geoffrey watched without moving or speaking to see if Hugh would fall into the convulsions next. He did not. Instead, he did something even stranger. Hugh began to laugh.
He laughed loud and hard, bending over at his waist without regard to his appearance. Guards appeared at the door to inquire, but Geoffrey waved them off from where he lay. He thought he might not die this day, though he dared not draw attention yet.
The laughs turned into choking coughs and then loud gasps of what seemed to be pain as his cousin tried to regain control over himself. Hugh’s breaths were sucked in deeply and exhaled forcefully and followed by grimaces of agony. Several minutes later, he climbed to his feet and motioned for Geoffrey to do the same. His reprieve over, Geoffrey stood and waited.
“You have no idea, do you, Geoffrey?” Hugh said, not really asking a question. “None at all.”
“Nay, my lord.”
“This,” he said, taking Geoffrey’s arm and pointing to the figure there, “this is a better thing than anything you have ever done in your life.”
Geoffrey frowned and looked more closely at it. He thought his cousin would rather it be the mark of the flames, like the one Hugh carried on his arm. That would mean Geoffrey could help his cousin in more effective ways.
“Now you are second in importance only to the earthblood and sunblood. You can carry out the ritual and speak the words to open the barrier. Your name will be proclaimed as the one who freed the goddess.” Hugh had begun to glow in shades of fiery orange. Geoffrey blinked several times, but it did not go away.
“I am? I will?” So confused by this turnabout in his life, he nodded in acceptance of whatever Hugh said. Hugh reached out and took Geoffrey by the shoulders.
“We needed one who carries the mark of man, a priest, to open the gateway and now we have one.” Hugh smiled, the first genuine one Geoffrey ever remembered seeing on his cousin’s face. “This changes everything.”
“It does?” he asked, trying to grab ahold of anything that would make sense.
“Aye. I have been struggling to find a way to bring one of their priests to our cause, but they are willing to die rather than help us. I have delayed pressing the earthblood and sunblood into it because I did not have a priest.”
Geoffrey was intelligent enough not to mention the large hole in this plot, that he had no training and had not the knowledge of how to complete the ritual. If Hugh thought this was a good thing, Geoffrey would not argue it or ask questions. If it meant staying alive, he would do whatever Hugh asked of him. Not many could claim to be in Hugh’s favor, so Geoffrey smiled and nodded. “Aye. Now you have a priest.”
Hugh let out another barking laugh and strode to the doorway, calling the guards back in. He gave several short, direct orders to the men and then nodded at Geoffrey. “Now we can force Tolan to cooperate. He will not have a choice at all. Not once I have his son in my custody.”
Tolan valued nothing more in his life than his son, Kirwyn, and everyone knew it. As Hugh strode out, Geoffrey hoped Tolan would capitulate quickly and do as Hugh commanded. Geoffrey had seen the results of resistance to Hugh’s plan and will, and none had been less than deadly.
The only thing that might keep Tolan’s son alive was Tolan’s cooperation. For once, as Geoffrey left the chamber to follow his cousin, he was thankful that he’d never had a child who could be used as Hugh’s pawn.
Gods help the boy.
CHAPTER 17
He did not wait very long before the need to hold her grew too strong to resist. Tolan slowed his horse and waited for her to stop at his side. Reaching over, he lifted her easily onto his lap.
Though surprise shone from her dark brown eyes as she met his gaze, she did not hesitate to accept his arms or his embrace.
He loved that about her. She was open to him in a way he’d never expected, considering her recent past. He’d seen people who had been beaten and abused and they rarely trusted anyone and they especially did not accept physical contact. If she shied away from others, he’d not seen it. And once she had accepted him into her life and her bed, she never had resisted his touch.
Tolan was about to urge his horse on when he realized that the only thing he knew for certain after all the shocking revelations of the recent days was . . .
Her.
He loved Elethea in a way so different from what he’d felt for Corliss. And on the morrow or when they faced this great evil, he knew he might lose her. He slid his leg over his horse and dismounted. Once on the ground he helped her down and took her in his arms.
“Thea, I know that you do not wish to marry me,” he began.
“I do not wish to marry, Tolan. It is not you.” She reached up and placed her fingers over his lips to stop him.
The same argument again, but it would not, could not, stand this day. Tolan released her and walked a few paces to give her some room for this discussion. “I know what Jasper did to you, Thea. I know that you nearly died.”
Her face lost all color at his words and the golden shimmer surrounding her shifted and quivered.
“I am not him. I would never raise a hand to you,” he promised. “You know that.” She nodded but did not look certain about anything at that moment. “But there is something else stopping you in this. It is not that. So tell me what it is,” he said.
“Tolan,” she said, shaking her head. “Let this go, I pray you.”
“If I believe everything we have heard this day, and I suspect more of it to be true than not, then we face terrible danger. I want to face it with you at my side.”
“I will be at your side,” she assured him. “I will be there through whatever comes.” Her promise was not enough.
“I want you as my wife before we take another step, Thea.” Tolan met her gaze and saw the fear there. “Tell me what holds you back. Tell me.”
He watched her struggle right before his eyes. The usually assured woman disappeared and the cowed woman he would witness in the village after one of her husband’s fits of anger appeared now. Tolan had forgotten how much he hated it. He’d hated it when it had happened—in spite of having no standing or right to a concern about her at the time. And he hated it now, for it marked the success of her husband’s attempts to break her.
“Tolan, I am not worthy to be a man’s wife,” she whispered. The defeated tone in her voice hurt to hear.
“Not worthy?” he asked. “You who saved Linne and brought Medwyn safely into th
is world? You who healed old Rigby and their priest? You are not worthy?” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she relented, but she must take this step of her own volition.
“I know that you value your son more than anything in this world, Tolan,” she began. “And I know it is important for you to have more children, for the caretaking of the lands and now to pass on this power we know exists.”
“Aye, I want children, Thea. And so do you.”
“I want children so much it hurts to look at them in the village. It tears me apart when I help to birth or bury them, Tolan.” Now she walked toward him and he clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching her.
“But I cannot have a baby. I cannot give birth to the children that you want and need.” Thea reached across the space dividing them and touched his cheek. “No matter how much I wish it, it cannot happen.”
The devastated expression in her eyes told him that this was the true reason for her refusal. Whatever damage Jasper had done, this was the terrible result to her. One that apparently even her skills as a healer could not treat. He would not burden her by arguing over it or asking more questions of her.
The question that mattered now was whether it made a difference to him. It took less time than he thought to come to the answer to that.
* * *
Thea watched him ride away, stunned by and yet not certain of what had just happened. He’d walked to the horses, handed her the reins of hers, and mounted his. A mumbled demand that she remain here was all he said. Looking around the place where they’d stopped, just north of the abbey’s lands but not yet near their village, she found a large rock near the edge of the woods and sat on it.
Her heart ached then, reminding her that she knew what his reaction would be long ago. It was why she dreaded having to reveal her failing to him. Though she knew she could never be the wife he needed, a part of her felt lighter somehow at having released the secret from within.
He’d not responded at all. He’d just watched her with those gleaming eyes as she spoke the words that ended any possibility of a future between them. And then left.
At least now there was honesty between them. At least they would face the dangers ahead understanding that they could not be together if they survived. And she would treasure whatever time they had together for the dark, lonely days later.
Leaning back against the trunk of a tree behind her, she tugged her kerchief from her head and closed her eyes. God’s truth, she was weary. What with the nights with Tolan and the miles they’d crossed and the things that had happened to her and them, Thea thought a few minutes rest would not be amiss while she waited for Tolan’s return.
The next thing she remembered was hearing the sound of approaching horses. Rubbing her eyes and trying to wake, she saw three horses and riders galloping toward her. Fear filled her for a moment until she recognized Tolan leading the two others. It took only another minute before he reached her and slowed to a halt, waiting for the other to arrive.
Father Ander. Corann.
She stood to greet the priests as they climbed down from their mounts, and she noticed that her hands shook now, with her not knowing what to expect. Tolan walked toward her, and this time he took her in his arms and kissed her, claiming her in a most inappropriate manner before the two holy men. She regained her wits and pushed him away.
“Tolan!” she said while nodding to Father Ander and Corann. “Why did you bring them here?” She had an insane thought at first. However, she did not dare to give it credence.
“The others wanted to come, but I did not want too many witnessing my shame,” he said. “If you refuse me again.”
“What others?” she asked, watching as something like merriment entered his gaze, though it remained green. She knew his goal now and held her breath, her heart pounding against her chest.
“To be honest, Elethea,” Father Ander said, “most everyone at the encampment wished to be here.”
“Especially William, Brienne, Soren, and Ran,” Corann said.
“And Aislinn and Roger and the rest of the priests,” Tolan added. He walked to her and took her hands in his, leaning closer so the two would not hear. “I want to marry you, Thea. Be mine?”
Her heart soared at his words. He knew her truth and yet would still commit to marriage with her.
“But, Tolan—” she began to explain.
Now he placed his fingers on her lips to stop her words. “Be my wife, Elethea. Be at my side as you are in my heart.”
He knew the moment she accepted, for the light around her became blinding. Father Ander and Corann shielded their eyes from it, but Tolan did not look away. He would memorize this expression for all time.
She did not feel worthy of him.
That had been her excuse to reject his previous proposals. She believed she was less a woman and less a marriageable woman because her ability to bear children had been beaten from her. She did not consider the amount of courage it had taken for her to survive her brutal husband and take back control of her life.
“I will be your wife, Tolan,” she whispered to him. She rose and kissed his mouth. “If you are certain?” she asked again.
“I am.”
“Ah,” Father Ander said. “Do you wish it to be a Catholic ceremony? Or should Corann bless it as his people do?”
He looked at Thea for her opinion and she nodded, understanding what he wanted.
“Both?” he asked.
Father Ander and Corann exchanged a few words and nodded. Tolan had been told that these two had recently stood witness at the marriage of Ran and Soren in Orkney, a marriage that had been delayed more than two years because of mistakes and betrayals and mistrust.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“We marry.”
Within a few, quiet minutes they spoke their vows to the priest in their own faith and then accepted the blessings of another. Now she was his, to love, to claim, to protect.
And all of that must begin soon. He asked for a moment with his new wife and took her hand, leading her off so that their words would be private.
“We will help them?” Thea asked before he could speak on the matter that faced them. “I have not met Brienne’s father, so you must tell me of him before we commit ourselves.”
We. He liked the sound of it.
“He presents himself as though he would ally himself with us, Thea. But even I could sense the evil and deception at his core.” Tolan shook his head. “I think that we must help the others, whether or not we understand all this or not. We must stand against evil.”
She shivered then and nodded. “We must.”
Tolan took her hand and turned back to the priests.
“We will join your cause,” he said. “We go ahead to Durrington to uncover the stones. Bring the others and we will seal the gateway.”
The two men stood still then, as though listening to something. Then they nodded in unison.
“We have a link forged between us, as the priests learned to do many generations ago. We told the others that it is time,” Corann explained. “They will meet you there, though Ran and Soren can get there sooner.”
“All of you are . . . ?” he began. A link?
“In your thoughts?” Thea asked. “Between you?”
“Aye, in our thoughts,” Father Ander said. “Not all of us—all of the priests used to be so connected, but Hugh discovered it and used it against them.”
Corann looked away then and Tolan suspected he had been used against them. It would explain the broken bones and other injuries that Thea had spoken of.
“So now only a few of us are so blessed,” Corann said softly. “Those of the bloodlines, Ander, myself, and the warrior Roger.” He glanced away again and once more the priest nodded. His tone now became lighter. “Though the humans have a more difficult time lea
rning the boundaries of such a thing.” Corann smiled then, as did Father Ander. Then their faces darkened and a shudder passed through them.
“Brienne asked if there was anyone who needed protection,” Corann said. “She said her father would use whomever he could against you.”
“Kirwyn,” Tolan and Thea said at the same time.
“I must go to him,” Tolan said, releasing her hand.
“Nay!” Father Ander said. “You must not return to the village now. Seek your lands and uncover the circle.”
“William will seek him out and take him to the encampment. He will be safe there,” Corann said.
Tolan told them where Kirwyn and Farold were hiding and also gave them instructions that his son would recognize as his own, so the headstrong boy and their cousin would accompany them to safety.
“Which of you will guide us through the ritual?” Thea asked. The priests looked at each other and then back at him and Thea.
“Neither,” Corann answered. “Aislinn is the seer. ’Tis for her to do.”
“I thought you said you helped to open the one in Orkney, Father?” Thea asked.
“Aye. But I was not called to do it, I was forced.” Father Ander shrugged. “According to Marcus, the priest who led them here, Aislinn is the one prophesied to seal the gateways.”
Marcus was their leader until he’d sacrificed himself to save Father Ander. Now Corann stood in that position, though clearly he was learning the way of leadership while healing from his horrendous injuries. The two turned once more to leave, but Corann called back to them just before they urged their horses forward.
“Aislinn thinks that Hugh will know the moment you uncover the stones. So wait for us to be there.”
“By dawn,” Tolan said. The priests nodded and rode away.
Tolan stood at Thea’s side and watched them ride back to the camp where the others would be preparing to travel north.
“They value her,” Thea said, “and obey her commands.”
He’d seen the huge guard who walked only a pace or two from the young woman. No one else in their group had a guard such as that. And no one else in their group spoke to him.
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