She Walks in Love (Protectors of the Spear Book 2)

by Marylu Tyndall

  Jarin halted. Then proceeded.

  Shadows consumed them again. A spark ignited and a lantern shone bright. Lord Quinn’s maniacal face shone in the glow, along with ten well-armed guards blocking their only exit.

  Chapter 27

  “What devilment is this, Quinn?” Jarin quickly handed Thebe to Lady Cristiana. “Not had your fill of humiliation?” Even as he spoke the words and gripped the hilt of his blade, Jarin knew he could not defeat ten soldiers.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Quinn shook his head. “Where are your manners, Jarin? You dare leave without saying goodbye? Again?”

  “You know why we leave.” Jarin frowned, hoping beyond hope that his old friend still existed in there somewhere. But the shadows slithering about the man spoke otherwise. “Put by this mad jealousy. We were friends once.”

  Thebe began to whimper, and Sir Jarin heard Cristiana attempt to console her.

  “Friends do not abandon friends as you did to me at the abbey,” Quinn spat, then wobbled slightly as a waft of brandy-soaked breath slapped Jarin’s cheek.

  He sighed. Alas, so that was it, the cause of this madness. Guilt pricked his heart, for he had indeed left the abbey without a word and ne’er returned. “For that, I cry your pardon. Upon my own, I should have…there was much…many things happened which kept me away.”

  His words seemed to soften Quinn’s expression for but a moment ere the shadows grew darker and their swarming more intense.

  Jarin rubbed his eyes. Why was he seeing these things? He did not wish to see spirits from the underworld, if that’s what they were. “However,” he continued. “You have no right to keep us here. Nor to accost Lady Cristiana. Hence, I bid you and your men adieu and demand you step aside or pay the price.”

  Quinn grinned. “You are well-skilled, I grant you. But not against ten soldiers.”

  “What is it you want, Quinn? To kill me for the mere crime of leaving you without word?”

  “You not only left, but you became the highest knight of the realm, achieved success, fortune, and”—he glanced at Cristiana—“the affections of a true lady.”

  “And you, lord of a manor!” Jarin spread his arms wide toward their surroundings.

  “Bah! Meaningless.” Quinn huffed.

  Jarin watched Quinn’s expression darken as the man looked around at all he had and considered it rubbish. Peckish dolt! “If you would but cease your drinking, quit your gambling and roistering, and be kind to your tenants, you would gain the happiness and success you desire.”

  At this, Quinn’s expression grew sour and pained. His shoulders sagged as if his bones had turned to pottage. “I fear that will ne’er happen. For I am dying.”

  Jarin stood abashed, unsure what his friend meant. Unsure whether ’twas another trick to gain sympathy.

  Lady Cristiana appeared by his side, Thebe still in her arms. But the look on her face as she gazed at Quinn sent Jarin even further into confusion and doubt. ’Twas a look of compassion, not fear, not hatred for the man who had nearly ravished her.

  “You speak the truth, Lord Quinn. I saw the sores on your back.”

  To his credit Quinn would not meet the gaze of the woman he accosted. “I have but months to live,” he mumbled.

  “’Tis the whores’ scourge.” Blushing at her own words, Cristiana glanced at Jarin.

  Aye, Jarin knew of it. Spread by intimacy and quite painful and deadly. He wanted to express his sorrow at the news, wanted to forgive Quinn for all past wrongs, but his anger kept such sentiments at bay.

  It did not keep Lady Cristiana at bay. Handing Thebe back to Jarin, she approached the insolent ravisher and laid a hand on his back.

  Quinn jerked in surprise and lifted confused eyes to her.

  “Would you like God to heal you?” she asked in a voice that trembled slightly but bore no ill-will.

  Quinn merely stared at her, shock claiming his features. Naught but the sound of the wind whisking past open windows and the simmer of coals in the fire filled the air. “What trickery is this?” he finally said.

  “God wishes to heal you.”

  Thebe nestled within Jarin’s arms as he stared in wonder at the lady before him. He could make no sense of her actions, her kindness toward this man.

  “And you would allow Him?”

  Cristiana smiled. “He does what He wills, my lord. Do you agree to it?”

  Swallowing, Quinn nodded, still gaping at her with confusion and suspicion.

  Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes, hand still upon the fiend, and said, “In the name of Christ and by the power of His blood, be healed of all disease, Lord Quinn. I cast away the spirits of illness and death and all other evil that hovers about you.”

  Then retrieving her hand, she stepped back. “Now receive the grace of God.”

  Quinn stood still for a moment, his eyes shifting between her and Jarin ere they widened in shock and joy and his breath came fast and hard. “I no longer feel the sores that plague my back! I cannot feel them!” He reached around to rub his back. “They are gone. Begad! They are gone!”

  “Thanks be to God!” Cristiana smiled.

  Jarin stared dumbfounded at his friend. He’d never seen him so exuberant, so joyful. Even the shadows that surrounded him had vanished.

  Quinn took Cristiana’s hands in his. Trembling, she attempted to pull them away, but he shook his head. “Do not fear me, my lady. Though I know ’tis but a trifle, I am truly sorry for what I did. Even so, even after I…” His eyes filled with tears. “You healed me! How can I thank you for that?”

  She finally withdrew her hands. “’Twas God who healed you. And I forgive you, Lord Quinn. Now you must give your life to God and follow Him always.”

  Forgive him? Jarin shook his head in disbelief. What sort of woman so easily forgave, so quickly granted such a gift to a man who would have ruined her without a second thought? Weakness! ’Twas the only explanation.

  Then why did it seem more like strength?

  Dismissing his soldiers, Quinn finally faced Jarin, his face twisted in anguish in the torchlight. “I have done much evil, my friend.”

  Jarin ground his teeth together. “Apparently the lady has forgiven you. As for me, ’twill take longer, I fear. If ever.”

  “Nay, not for that, though I am forever in your debt for such…such a horrendous act.” He glanced nervously toward the door, then back at Jarin, his face filled with horror.

  Alarm prickled over Jarin. “Out with it!”

  “I needed the money. To pay my debts.”

  Jarin grabbed him by the collar. “What have you done?”

  “Jarin, stop!” Cristiana said.

  “I sent a rider to Luxley last night with word you are here.”

  Jarin shoved him against the door with a loud thud, but then released him. “Bosh! Give us horses and we will leave straightaway.”

  At a snap of Quinn’s fingers, a soldier approached. “Prepare my two best horses immediately.” As the man darted off, Quinn stepped to the side and gestured toward the door. “I hope you can forgive me someday, Jarin.”

  Saying not a word, lest a string of curses fly from his mouth, Jarin grabbed Cristiana’s arm and hurried out the door, praying ’twas not too late to make their escape.

  ♥♥♥

  Emerald Forest

  Alexia skittered her fingers up Ronar’s back as he sat before the hearth in their home beneath the forest.

  The brave knight leapt up, brushing his back in haste, then halted and frowned her way. “It pleases you to mock me, my lady.”

  “It does,” she said. “But I shall stop…someday,” she added, smiling as she looped her arm through his. “When it pleases me no further.”

  He drew her near. “I see I shall have to teach you to respect your husband.”

  “When we are wed, indeed. For now, allow me my fun, Sir Knight.” The smile he gave her bespoke of years to come filled with love and laughter. She could hardly wait. But for now…

&nb
sp; “You should have seen his face!” Damien chuckled from his seat at the table, where he consumed a trencher full of stewed venison. “Judas, you would think there was a horde of armed knights attacking us. Not tiny spiders.”

  “They were not tiny,” Ronar said. “And quite hairy, if I recall.”

  The friar approached, the Good Book in his hands. “We all have our weaknesses, Ronar. Even mighty knights.”

  Alexia stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ronar’s cheek. “Though I taunt you, Sir Knight, I am quite proud of you, withal. For you realized ’twas but an attack of the enemy and did away with them by the power of Christ.”

  Ronar rubbed his chin. “I fear I am much better in physical battle than spiritual.”

  The friar lowered into a cushioned chair and opened the Bible. “Like any battle skill, it must be honed, my son. I make no doubt you are a fast student in this regard.”

  Ronar nodded. “I pray you are right.”

  Damien finished his meal and moved to stand behind Seraphina, who sat on the couch before the fire. Crossing arms over his mighty chest, he stared into the flames.

  “Pray tell, Damien.” Alexia cocked her head. “Have you yet seen enough of God’s power to believe He exists and is with us?”

  He grunted. “What I have seen I cannot explain, my lady. I await further evidence.”

  Seraphina stared up at him. “As stubborn as you are powerful, Sir Damien.”

  “I do not gainsay it, mistress.” He gave her a rare smile.

  The friar waved a hand in his direction. “Never fear. Even doubting Thomas came around eventually.” He gazed up at them all. “But to another point, these spiders…I believe the evil in the castle grows.”

  “I agree.” Alexia pulled from Ronar and placed hands on her hips. “It grows thick and heavy, and more powerful each time we visit. But why?”

  “’Tis a warlock.” Seraphina glanced over them, eyes burning with fear.

  “At Luxley?” Alexia asked. “How do you know?”

  “I do not.” She flattened her lips and hugged herself. “And yet I do.”

  “Makes sense.” The friar ran fingers over the pages of the Bible. “Only an emissary of Satan could do such vile works.”

  Alexia shuddered. To think such an evil man lived within the walls of her home. And she did not know! Yet she had been sensing him for a long while now. “His power grows, then.”

  “Aye.” Ronar walked to pour himself a drink. “And no doubt Sir Walter consorts with him.”

  Damien raised a brow. “’Twould explain why we cannot get the man to sign his confession.”

  “Ah, Sir Damien.” The friar chuckled. “You believe in warlocks, but not in God Himself?”

  “I believe in good and evil, good friar.”

  “You call me good, sir. There is none good without Christ.”

  Damien snorted.

  Alexia turned to stare at the fire, her resolve rising. “Wherefore all this pother over a warlock? God’s power is far greater, as we have already proven.”

  “Aye, my dear,” the friar said, “but ’tis our human vessels which are weak, our faith which falters.” He flipped a few pages in the Bible. “Put on the whole armour of God that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” He looked up. “This kind of battle takes much prayer and fasting.”

  “Then that is what we shall do.” Alexia faced them. “What else do you see, Seraphina?”

  Ronar returned with two mugs and handed one to Alexia. She took a sip of the fresh water, watching her maid close her eyes for a moment as if searching for an answer.

  “No more about this warlock, but about your sister.” She opened her eyes, directing them to Alexia.

  “Prithee, what?” Moving toward Seraphina, Alexia knelt before her, searching her eyes.

  “There has been betrayal. Great betrayal.”

  Alexia’s heart tightened. “What do you mean?”

  Damien slid onto the seat beside Seraphina and took her hand.

  “The bishop knows where they are,” she said, voice quivering. “He sends his soldiers there even now, along with Sir Walter’s.”

  Alexia gripped the lady’s other hand. “Where? Where are they?”

  “I do not know, my lady. I’m sorry.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she glanced at Damien.

  “Is this the evil you spoke of before? The one that follows them?” Alexia asked.

  Seraphina looked away, her breath coming fast. “Nay. The evil still lurks nearby.”

  Ronar put a hand on Alexia’s shoulder. “Jarin will protect her.”

  Doing her best to force down her rising fear, Alexia stood and faced him. “Even Jarin the Just cannot fight such evil forces.”

  “Come, child.” The friar rose and set down the Holy Book. “Let us not speak without faith. God can rout any army. But He waits on His faithful to pray.” He gestured for them all to come closer. “Let us bow before Him and make our petitions.”

  Nodding, Alexia took Ronar’s hand on one side and Seraphina’s on the other, and they formed a circle with the friar, whilst Damien stood off to the side. Alexia would have to increase her prayers for the doubting knight. But for now, she had more important battles to wage.

  Chapter 28

  Jarin rode the horses fast and hard throughout the night, unsure whether ’twas his anger at Quinn, shock at Lady Cristiana’s kindness, or fear of the bishop’s army that made him long to escape and leave everything behind.

  Even leave the lady herself, for every moment he spent with her, he lost all sense and reason. She enchanted him, mesmerized him, luring him closer and closer like a flopping fish hooked on a line, unable to free himself, only in the end, to find himself hopelessly tangled in her charms. He could not allow that to happen.

  She’d rode beside him all night, with the babe in her arms, nary a complaint spilling from her lips. Now, as the hint of dawn teased the horizon, he glanced her way and guilt weighed on him for the exhaustion lining her lovely features. Thankfully, Thebe was asleep in her arms—arms that no doubt ached from holding the child.

  Turning in his saddle, he glanced behind them. No sign of soldiers. No sign of much of anything all night save owls and a fox that had glared at them from the brush. He must find a place to stop and rest, at least for a short while. Mayhap he could forage for some fruit or nuts for them to eat. Regardless, the sooner they were on their way, the better, for the bishop’s soldiers now had a scent and a trail to follow.

  The lady glanced his way, and her gentle smile reached up to her sleepy eyes, dazzling him. And, against his will, he found everything within him wanting to protect and cherish this precious woman all his days. “I will find a place to rest anon, my lady.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered ere opening her eyes wider and glancing over the countryside. Morning mist hovered over the green rolling hills, sparkling in the rising sun. The scent of horse flesh, earth, and lilacs showered over Jarin, awakening his senses to a new day, even as exhaustion tugged upon his eyes. He would have to find sleep later. For now, he must seek safety above all else.

  Safety. He had thought Quinn’s home would be such. His jaw tightened. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Bosh! What a fool he’d been to trust him, to believe he was the same generous lad he’d once known. Life had been cruel to Quinn. Nay! Quinn’s choices had caused the sad predicament in which he found himself. His gambling, drinking, and whoring had robbed him of his wealth, respect, and oddly…his happiness. Vak! His philandering had nearly cost him his life.

  Save for Lady Cristiana D’Clere.

  But hadn’t that been their troth to each other in that dark wine cellar at Tegimen Abbey—that they would spend their lives seeking out the pleasure of coin, drink, and women, and ne’er allow themselves to be burdened with the responsibilities of life or the r
ules of an overbearing God? Alas, Quinn had done just that. But where had it gotten him?

  Something to ponder later, for Thebe woke up, stretched in Cristiana’s arms and smiled brightly when she spotted Jarin.

  And every hard thing within him melted.

  Cursing himself, he averted his gaze and spotted a copse of trees up ahead where they could hide. ’Twas difficult enough to resist the allure of Lady Cristiana, but must he also battle the innocent admiration of the most adorable little girl he’d ever met?

  ♥♥♥

  Cristiana handed the best part of the single nectarine Jarin had found on the ground to Thebe, whilst she did her best to nibble on the bruised part. ’Twas all they had, for no further fruit grew on the tree. Indeed, it appeared withered and diseased.

  Jarin had tucked them safely within a thicket of trees and brush while he went off in search of water. She hated that she felt lost and alone without him nearby. She hated her utter and complete dependence on him. More than either of those, she hated the way her insides quivered at the mere sight of him.

  Weak fool. Why couldn’t she be more like her sister?

  Finishing the foul fruit, she withdrew the Spear from her pocket, lifted her skirts, and proceeded to bind it tightly around her thigh once again. Thebe was engaged following an ant trail, or no doubt the girl would assail Cristiana with a dozen questions about what she was doing. Cristiana tightened the binding and pressed a finger over the precious relic. It had saved them more than once. Them, not her. For where had its power been when Quinn was about to ravish her? If Sir Jarin had not burst in at that moment, would the Spear have protected her? Or mayhap, she was not worthy of its protection. Mayhap her job was to use it to help others and then return it to her sister, who would make better use of its power.

  Settling her skirts back down around her ankles, she opened her small pack and pulled out a comb. “Come, Thebe, allow me to rid your hair of those tangles.”

  The little girl lifted bright blue eyes to Cristiana, holding up her finger where an ant circled, seeking an escape. Her giggle seemed to swipe away all the terror of their predicament, if only for a second.