Leland’s eyes widened. “There are survivors?”
“Aye.” Brody nodded, knowing for sure, he could trust Leland from his reaction. “Would you like to see some of them?”
Leland felt as if he was stuck in a dream, walking beside the cousin he’d searched for the last three years. He didn’t remember his old life, but still showed loyalty and concern for his people, which Leland considered a good sign. He was still their king, even if he didn’t know the role had once been his.
Under the safety the darkness provided from prying eyes, they traveled through a section of the burnt city yet to be rebuilt. It was uninhabited by the soldiers and so quiet, every foot step seem amplified.
At last they came to an abbey on the edge of the city limits. It was tattered like the rest of the buildings, but as they walked around the back, the section was mostly intact. He followed his cousin through the back entrance and then down a long staircase to the cellar.
There they were met with a bolted door. Tristan knocked in a secret rhythm and a moment later several bolts slid over and the door slowly creaked open. In the dim candlelight, the man eyed Leland with a wary expression. It was only when Tristan assured the man he was a friend, he started to relax.
After they were led inside, Leland marveled at the size of the cellar. It had to be almost as large as the abbey itself. There were cots scattered throughout the shelter, separated by curtains and two hearths against opposite walls. Tristan informed him they did all their cooking after dark so the smoke wouldn’t be visible. Also, because the shelter was underground, the temperature remained steady no matter the season.
About two dozen people came out of the shadows, not counting the children hiding behind their parents. “It’s all right. I’m here from Kiely to help,” he assured them.
One of the men stared at him with wide eyes. “So, is it true then? I heard the walls of Kiely still stand.”
Leland nodded. “Aye, the fortress is still there and the village is open to anyone who needs a refuge.”
Within a few minutes the residents started to calm down. Tristan and a few members of his crew distributed the food they had brought. It was a warming sight to see the people so thankful and joyous in spite of their situation.
Later, after most of the villagers had gone to sleep, Leland sat with Tristan by one of the hearths with hot cups of tea. “I had no idea there were so many survivors. I would have come back for them. I still could, now that I know they’re here.”
Tristan stared into the flames. “If they agree to leave, will they truly be safe in Kiely?”
“Aye. ‘Tis the only unconquered refuge in this realm.”
“So, if Kiely is the safest place, why have you journeyed this far east again?”
Leland sighed before telling him of Fiona and Clare—about how their future plans were shattered when Fergus’ men kidnapped them. When he was done with the story, he glanced at Tristan to gauge his reaction. “‘Tis why I was down at the docks tonight. I need help before they take them to the isles.”
Tristan fiddled with the wooden die in his hand. “I apologize. I wish I would help. Truly, I do, but the last thing I desire is to become another enemy of Lord Fergus. If I go against him and his men, he will destroy everything we have worked so hard to build.”
“You and your crew could come back with us to Kiely, too. My people would greet you with open arms.”
Tristan frowned. “Even the new king? I know the council will have chosen a new ruler by now. How would he react to a person resembling the former king living in his realm?”
Leland chuckled softly. “I know for a fact he wouldn’t mind.”
“How is that?”
He placed his hand on his cousin’s shoulder and smiled. “Because I am he.”
Tristan gave him a doubletake and then attempted to stifle his regal laughter with one hand. “I should have known. I recognize the royal Kielyan crest on your ring now. Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not realize to whom I was speaking to all this time. My crew will be beside themselves with regret after attacking you like a common criminal.”
Leland chuckled with him, having almost forgotten how good it felt to laugh with his younger cousin. Then his smile faded, recalling what was at stake. “Perhaps we should keep this a secret between us, at least for now. It could be dangerous if Fergus’ men discover who I am. I’ll be a help to no one if I’m captured.”
“Of course. I would never wish to compromise your safety. ‘Twill be our secret.”
Leland nodded. “Thank you, Cousin…I mean Captain Smyth. I appreciate your discretion. Now, can I count on your aid tomorrow?”
Tristan looked away and took a sip from his cup. “I have much to think over and discuss with my men. You have told me the location of your camp. I will send a messenger by the dawn if our answer is yes.”
Leland thanked him and departed from the abbey and into the darkness of the autumn night. The cool air caused him to shiver as he journeyed down the streets of the ruined city. Seeing his cousin again had been a wonderful blessing. Fiona had been right. He’d stopped looking—put the matter in God’s hands—and He had put Tristan directly in his path when he needed help the most. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.
There was only one hitch in the plan. His cousin did not remember him. He only saw Leland as a new acquaintance—not his kin. He knew Tristan would come to the aid of a family member without a second thought, but would Captain Smyth do the same for a stranger? Leland shifted his gaze to the night sky, in awe of the vast number of stars shining upon him. It was a good time to ask for help and guidance.
Oh God, I know I am but a tiny speck in your creation, but I believe you hear me. I can feel your love deep in my soul. Please, open Tristan’s eyes to the truth. Remind him of who he is and the great King of Órlaith you created him to be. I put my trust in you, Lord. Give me wisdom and show me what to do tomorrow, regardless of Tristan’s decision. I know I can do all things through you who gives me strength.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Dawn
Captain Brody Smyth leaned against the stern of his ship as the sun rose in the eastern sky. It painted the water an array of colors on the calm waters of the harbor. It was his favorite part of the day, yet why did his heart feel so heavy?
“It be a fine day for sailin’, aye Cap’n? The men are ready to depart at your command.”
Brody turned to his first mate and nodded, managing a smile. “Aye, tell them to make their preparations to head south.”
“Aye. I’ll do as ye ask.” His first mate limped across the deck on his bad leg and disappeared behind the sail.
Alone again, Tristan pulled out the die in his pocket and studied it. The engraved fawn had to mean something from his past, but what? Leland could be the person to shed some light on his lost memories, yet he was abandoning him. Brody clutched the small cube in his fist and gritted his teeth as his crew rushed around the deck, preparing the ship. He was a coward. There was no hiding the truth from himself, even if he managed to conceal it from others.
He dropped the wooden die into the pouch on his belt. Then he moved to the captain’s wheel and turned the ship toward the open sea as his crew handled the sails. The cool air whipping through his hair had meant freedom in the past, but now it stung like salt in his wounded heart.
As they reached the edge of the harbor, they passed a large cog steering into port. Brody knew in an instant from the luxurious look of the ship, it had to belong to Lord Fergus. He shook his head, knowing his reasoning for coming to Aoife, but what could he do to stop him?
Brody continued on, squinting in the morning sun as a fiery red hue on the horizon caught his eye.
I know you may not see it now, but God still has a purpose for your life, Cousin. You’ll understand more clearly in time.
The captain heard the words clear as day, but his eyes no longer saw the glowing red of the sunrise—he saw the glowing embers of a campfire—felt the wiry fur of
a dog under his fingertips—a comforting hand resting on his shoulder.
It was only a tiny wisp of a memory—yet it told him all he needed to know in that moment. Leland had been telling the truth all along.
Fiona woke up with the dawn, not remembering where she was at first, but as soon as she sat up and saw the view from her window, it all came flooding back. Today she would wed again, but not to the man she loved. Today Clare would gain a new father, but not the man she had grown accustomed to calling Papa Lee Lay.
God, if there is any other way, please lead me to it. How can I marry this man when my heart belongs to another?
Clare was still sleeping when a maid came into Fiona’s room with breakfast. Then a while later she, lugged in a large tub for her bath and filled it with buckets of warm water.
Fiona asked the servant to leave while she bathed to avoid questions about the scars on her back. Then she bathed before waking Clare to eat and bathe as well. It wasn’t until they were dressed warmly in their white shifts, she invited the maid back in.
The maid entered carrying a little pink floral print gown for Clare and a white wedding gown with flowing sleeves and jewels sewn into the bodice for her. It was one of the finest gowns she had ever seen in her life. If only it did not symbolize the end of her freedom and a life separated from Leland and her family.
The girl helped Fiona into her gown and then started working on her hair, while she attempted to untangle Clare’s unruly locks. The little girl’s hair was quite matted from their long ordeal, traveling through the mountains without a hairbrush or access to a bath.
“You make a very beautiful bride, Your Highness.”
Fiona startled at the girl’s voice after her long silence, but then calmed. “Thank you.”
“I know this is an arranged marriage, but I pray you will be happy living on the Isles. I hear they are quite lovely…that is if they haven’t been overrun by soldiers like here.”
Fiona nodded, struggling to hold back her tears. “Have you always lived here in Aoife?”
The girl shook her head. “No, I lived in the country a few hours away. My family was separated after the war when the soldiers came. I haven’t seen my family in over two years.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard. I am living away from my family right now as well. I fear I may never see them again after I go to live on the Isles. However, there is still hope for you. Most of the villagers have taken refuge in Kiely.”
“I have heard rumors of a refuge in the mountains, but did not want to risk my life over a place that may already be conquered.”
“‘The walls of Kiely stand strong and tall. I have seen them with my own two eyes. The mountain kingdom has become a refuge for all who need help. Your family may be there, too.”
The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you truly believe so? I had lost all hope.”
“Aye, we must never give up. No matter where we go or the dangers we encounter, we must remember God is our refuge. There is no place dark enough where his light cannot shine through.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. I shall not forget your words of wisdom.”
Fiona smiled and took the girl’s hand. “I will keep you and your family in my prayers, asking for God to reunite you with them soon.”
The maid enveloped her in a hug before whispering a quick thank you and finishing her hair. When a guard knocked on the door a few minutes later, the girl gathered her supplies to leave the room and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I pray you are able to see your family again, too, Your Majesty.” Fiona gave a quick nod of thanks to her new friend and watched her depart.
Commander Lorcan took the maid’s place in the entrance to her chambers. His dark brooding eyes traveled over her appearance, as if to make sure she looked worthy enough to be Fergus’ bride. “Good morning, Your Majesty. I trust you slept well?”
“Aye, Milord. As well as can be expected in a new place.” She smoothed the flowing skirt of her white, shimmering gown. “Shall I change into a traveling dress before we depart? I would hate for this one to be ruined by sea salt.”
Commander Lorcan shook his head. “No, King Fergus’ ship is waiting just off shore. We will collect the priest before boarding the rowboat and the ceremony will take place straight away after we reach the ship. Do you understand?”
Fiona gulped down the lump in her throat and nodded, taking her own advice to make God her refuge even during the darkest times. “I’m ready.”
Leland waited for as long as he could, watching the distant hills for Tristan’s messenger to appear. However, when the sun became fully visible in the sky, drowning out the colors of the sunrise, he knew Tristan’s answer.
One of his guards returned from scouting around the castle grounds. “Fergus’ ship has arrived and I have secured the things you requested. Now is the time to act if you still wish to, Your Majesty.”
“Aye, the odds are stacked against us, but I must try. I’ll not require the three of you to sacrifice your lives. It appears we have no aid. Go home to your families if you wish. I’ll not think any less of you.”
The guard knelt before him and the other two followed suit. “We’ll fight by your side, to the death if it comes to it.”
“Thank you, my loyal companions. I am honored to have you with me.” He turned back to the first guard. “Do you still believe our plan will work with only the four of us?”
He nodded. “It involves more of a risk, but ‘tis our best chance to rescue Princess Fiona and her daughter, Your Majesty.”
“Very well then. We shall move forward with the plan.” Leland fixed his gaze on the hills once more, praying for some sign of Tristan. Then he closed his eyes allowing his anxiety to dissolve away.
I know you can do all things, Lord. Now I come to you with a humble request. Please, make us invisible to our enemies.
When he looked up again, about a dozen men on horseback were coming over the hill toward them. He reached for the pommel of his sword and then stopped, noticing the Kielyan crest on their armor. Help had come at last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Troubled Waters
Fiona sat in the rowboat with Clare in her lap. She pulled her white fur cloak closer around them both for warmth as the guards rowed to the large ship at anchor in the distance. Dark clouds had started to form in the distance and the breeze had turned colder since they left the dock.
“Where we going, Mama?”
She looked down at her sweet little girl and managed a brave smile and pointed. “We are going on that ship, darling. It will take us to our new home.”
Clare stared at the large sea vessel with wide eyes. “We go on ship? With Lee Lay?”
Fiona shook her head, pausing to kiss the top of her little girl’s head. “No, Leland will not be there. I’m sorry.”
Clare started to whimper. “I want Lee Lay!”
“Shh…my sweetheart. We will be happy on the Isles. We’ll live in a castle by the sea and search for little fish on the shore. We might even see dolphins.”
Clare quieted at her words of reassurance and rested against her as they continued through the harbor. When they reached Fergus’ ship, Fiona helped her daughter onto the rope ladder first and then gingerly made her way up behind her. It proved quite a difficult task with the train on her wedding gown. When she reached the top, one of Fergus’ men helped her over the hull of the ship.
Once her feet safely hit the wooden deck, Fiona smoothed her skirt and checked her hair. Then she turned to Clare, making sure she looked presentable as well, pausing to wipe away a small smudge of dirt from her cheek.
When she straightened to her full height, a stout red-headed man with a full beard and moustache came into view. He approached, using a cane to steady his uneven gait. After a brief introduction, the man’s green eyes studied her warily. Fiona assumed her height surprised him. She stood about a foot taller than him. Finally, he sighed and mumbled under his breath to Commander Lorcan. “Well, I suppo
se she will have to do.”
At first, she wanted to cry, but then an unearthly calm swept over her. She trusted God. Somehow, He would take care of her and Clare. She believed it with all her heart.
However, Lord Fergus seemed anything but calm as he paced the deck of the ship, tapping his cane with every step. The ever-darkening clouds above them, seemed to match his mood. “Where is the priest? He should have been here by now.”
Lorcan stepped forward and bowed. “I apologize, Your Highness. The priest and his attendants were supposed to arrive before our boat. I am not sure what is delaying them, but I could return to shore and enquire about the situation if you wish.”
Fergus’ eyes shifted back and forth as he scanned the shore. Then he pointed to a small rowboat approaching from nearby. “There will be no need. I see them coming this way.”
Fiona watched the boat carrying the priest and three other men dressed in their traditional dark brown robes. Behind them was another ship with more of Fergus’ soldiers. Rain started to fall and all the men had their hoods pulled down, concealing their faces. It was almost a relief, knowing the ordeal would soon be over.
Two of the attendants came up first and then the priest who needed some assistance once he reached the top. From the slow way he moved, Fiona guessed he was an elderly man. She felt bad Fergus had made him climb onto the ship in his frail condition. Why couldn’t they have had the ceremony on shore where it would have been easier for him? When the priest stood before her, Fiona studied him in surprise. Even hunched over, he was quite taller than she expected.
“Come, let us begin the ceremony straight away. We have waited long enough and the weather is turning sour.”
The priest nodded. “Aye, Your Majesty. As you wish.” The priest lowered his hood and straightened his posture in one fluid motion.
Fiona gasped, recognizing the man’s handsome face in an instant. “Leland!”
Lady Fiona's Refuge (Ladies of Ardena Book 3) Page 16