A Templar's Gifts (9 page)

A
s the last ember of daylight faded into a deep gray night, we came to the outskirts of a village. Dark crofts dotted the land and an inn sat low in a clearing. I'd become accustomed to Aine's emotions flitting in and out of my head at will, but was taken aback at the harsh flood of thoughts and feelings that assaulted me from the many who had gathered in the place.

“I canno' go farther,” I gasped, grasping my head as if to contain the dizziness that almost made me retch. I drew up near the stables.

“I will go. Stay here,” she said. “Do you have coin?”

“Aye.” I gave her Torquil's pouch. “We need a room as far from the main road as ye can get it. Out here with the animals, mayhap.” She nodded and leapt down, leaving me swaying from the sudden loss of her. “Hurry. Please.”

Aine's alarmed expression met mine. “Will ye be all right?”

Her concern played havoc with my nerves. I forced myself to nod and tucked my hands beneath my arms to still the tremors so that she would not see. I slid from the
horse and buried my head in his mane as she bolted along the path and disappeared into the inn.

The wait was awful. The roar of chaos from the inn was nearly deafening. Then, one feeling grew more insistent than the others. Fear spiked through my body. Aine!

I pushed it away and focused on the source, trying with my exhausted mind to read the situation and not race wildly inside. Whatever was happening was not life threatening, not trivial, but worrisome enough that her heart sped and her blood raced.

I scrambled down the path and hid near a window whose shutter was left loose to the air and peered cautiously inside. Surprise nearly felled me. Sprawled on the benches inside were the soldiers who had pulled alongside my da's boat.

Aine's back was rigid. She recognized the danger. One of the soldiers was speaking to her, and the leap of her pulse set my own to hammering. The room was loud — the scraping of chair legs and the volume of chatter kept me from hearing what he said to her. Frustrated, I stared at her back as she spoke to a heavyset woman, the mistress of the house, no doubt. Her gestures were small and neat, and she gripped Torquil's bag of coin so tight her hand was white. The mistress nodded toward the cauldron and then to the wooden trenchers by the door.

Aine moved slowly around the men. I could feel her trying to seem small and plain. I wanted desperately to add a push, a whisper screen that would flesh out the illusion, but in my current state I didn't dare.

Aine passed a thin, poxy soldier at the table's edge, and he whipped his hand out and grasped her wrist. I nearly shouted at the twist of fear that leapt from her to me. It called on the fury that seemed now forever just below the surface of my mind. With everything in me I pressed it back, feeling the splash of red hotness expanding like a team of demon horses demanding freedom.

Then, suddenly, a heavy wooden spoon landed on the back of the man's wrist and he let go. Anger sparked in the dim gray of his eyes. “Not in my establishment lest ye'd like me to remove bits o' yer parts and feed ‘em to the dogs.” Her voice was loud and carried to where I stood.

A giant of a man emerged from a door off to the left then and stood with arms crossed, his chest bulging a threat without words. The thin man turned away from Aine, but his eyes continued to smolder. I watched as she filled the trenchers, her back tight as a rod, ready to drop them and bolt should the need arise.

With all my might I tried to disperse the anger that hung like fine netting over me. Aine moved to the door, and as the stranger's eyes followed her, it was all I could do to force myself to step away from the window.

By the time she reached me, worry pulsed between us. I followed her to the stables without a word, opening my senses enough to seek the presence of the thin man. He remained with the others, no doubt under the watchful eye of the inn's mistress, but his intent was clear. He would come seeking Aine the moment he could do so without detection. I felt for my dagger. I would use it to protect her, that much I knew about myself now.

“S
it near,” Aine said, dropping to a pile of hay. I did but hesitated to touch her. She nudged her knee to my thigh and a good deal of the chaos dropped off. “We both know it helps, Tormod. No sense being squeamish about it now.”

I nodded. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable touching her, but because I was on overload, her thoughts were leaking beyond my shielding. She was frightened and memories of her uncle were tormenting her. It was a trespass that I could read her and I wasn't sure if I should tell her. Even so, I needed her calm desperately. “What did ye find out?”

“There are soldiers inside,” she said. “They were talking about the one they were tracking and how he had
somehow slipped their grip. They were angry, but set to move on to the north to Kildrummy, I heard one say. Are they the ones? Are ye the one that got away?”

“Aye.” Kildrummy lay between us and our destination. What was I to do now? I closed my eyes, thinking, waiting for her to tell me more of what happened. When moments ticked by and she didn't mention the incident with Pockface, annoyance began to churn within me.

I could feel that it bothered her, and yet she didn't confide in me. What was I to think about that? Was she afraid I'd kill him? Did she think I was so out of control she could not look to me for help?

“How can we stay here, when they're so close by?” she asked.

The whole of my body ached and my head and ears felt full of sheep's wool. “I can't go any farther.” I had to sleep and recharge, but how could I do that knowing the soldiers were here and that Aine's presence would draw at least one of them?

“Give in, then. We'll sleep for half the night and leave before they rouse in the morning.” Aine slid from the hay to the ground, tugging my hand and dragging me with her. I didn't know what to do for a moment. She lay with her back pressing mine. “Ye need the peace. Take it, Tormod.”

Sleep pressed heavily on the back of my eyes.

In the near blackness I awoke with a rush of confusion. Something was wrong. I lay still, tightening my grip on the dagger that, even in sleep, I kept to hand.

Breath rattled in my head. The rank smell of man wafted from beyond the door frame. Gently I lifted Aine's arm, which had found its way around my chest when she turned in her sleep. I hated to break contact but there was no hope for it.

Quickly, I sprang to a crouch. As expected, it was as if every sound in and outside increased tenfold and the thoughts and dreaming minds of the inn's guests slammed into my head. I grabbed hold of the bale nearest to balance myself and fortified my shielding as best I could. It helped somewhat, but I knew it would not hold long. I scrambled to the side of the door and felt his presence before I saw the sliver of moonlight he let in.

I'd thought about how I was going to handle this before dropping off to sleep, but I had no more idea now than I did then. His breath rasped as he took a step forward and his horrible thoughts seeped into my mind.

Anger and disgust filled me, and I brought the hilt of my dagger heavily down on his head without hesitation. The sound of his body hitting the ground brought Aine awake with a cry. She took in the scene at a glance and something fragile within her seemed to snap. With a
wail she launched herself across the space between us and threw her arms around me, sobbing hysterically into my plaid.

I wrapped my arms around her, murmuring whatever came to mind. “Hush. It's all right now. I've got ye. No one will hurt ye. Let it out. Let it go.” Her tears flowed endlessly as she clung and sobbed. I took comfort from her closeness, but gave back what I could.

When finally I felt her body still, I tipped her head and pushed the hair from her face. In the near darkness her eyes glistened. “It's all right. Ye're safe, but we've got to go. He's knocked out, but he may wake an' we need to be far from here.”

She nodded mutely and stepped away. My head swam without her touch. I could feel my protection begin to fray. Aine grabbed our pack and my hand on the way out. “You're as pale as whey.”

I had thought for a moment that I would faint, but the second our hands met I was righted. It was strange and awkward moving without letting go, but things had shifted somehow. I needed her now more than ever.

Outside we mounted the horse, Aine in front this time, and urged him off down the road. Pockface was alive. He'd have a terrible headache but no more than he deserved. The thoughts I'd shared of his made me want to hit him again. That anyone should think such things about Aine filled me with an unholy furor. I wrapped my
arms tighter around her middle than I probably needed. She didn't remark on it.

The sun was climbing slowly. Pearl pink stole through the tops of ebony branches, and the smell of wetness was everywhere. I closed my eyes every few moments, leaving Aine to guide the horse. The landscape before me was playing tricks on my eyes. I saw it as it was, but also as it must have been in other times, other seasons. My mind was drifting when sound burst loud in my ears.

“What have you to say?”

“The goal is within our grasp.”

“You have contact within?”

“Yes.”

“And he's willing?”

“Gold offers much in the way of persuasion.”

Darkness flecked with golden light. The scent of hot beeswax. Tapestries woven with gilded thread. Impatience and arrogance swirled at the edges of thought. I felt myself start to slip.

“Tormod!”

Aine's voice cut through the black, and I felt her twist in the saddle and wrap her arm around me. I shook my head and light crept back before my eyes.

“What is it?” Aine asked in alarm.

“I don't know.” My breath came in short bursts as if I had just run a long way, and my legs were trembling where they gripped the horse. “A vision but it was no' clear. It's never clear,” I said, frustrated. “Something is happening in the world beyond. It seems to have nothing to do with me, but it must.” My head was swimming and I gripped her tight.

“Are ye all right to travel? Or do we need to stop?” she asked.

I was far beyond tired, but we had to outride the soldiers. Our destination was the same, and there was not much time or distance between us. “I can make it,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as Aine.

We had traded Black for a strong warhorse that had been stabled alongside him. No doubt it belonged to one of the soldiers. I hoped that it was Pockface's and that he would be inconvenienced by more than an aching head.

I said a prayer, asking God to forgive our theft. Some Templar's apprentice I was turning out to be. Stealing. Add that to the list of sins on my soul.

We rode long that day, moving as if in a dream, or mayhap a nightmare. I felt a fright. Aine convinced me to take some time and doze, but each time I tried, eyes
followed me into the dream state. I saw the bairn again and again. His pain and confusion were my own, growing and building by the league. I lost awareness of the woods, of time, and of myself.

“Tormod!” Aine's stricken voice cut my stupor.

“B
it late to be wandering the roads.” A tall, thickset man on horseback barred our way. I hadn't heard or seen him until Aine's cry. At his side hung a large broadsword, and two rows of throwing knives were tucked in bands across his chest. His hair was a mass of wild black tangles, and his beard flowed long down his neck and back.

I watched as he and two others who had appeared out of the woods dismounted.

“Down,” he said to us.

My arms were wrapped tight around Aine. “Just do as he says,” I told her, barely able to speak.

She slid from the horse and the moment the contact between us broke, my body rebelled. I closed my eyes, trying desperately to shield, but one of the men by me
thought this a stalling tactic and pulled me hard from the saddle.

Inside me a red haze was building. I could feel the power rising and panic enfolding me. This man was thin, but taller than me. He easily pinned my arms and slid his dagger to my neck.

Though I could not see her, I felt Aine's terror pummeling my entire being. “What d'ye want? We have nothing.” I tried to whisper a push of suggestion, but the power was flaring out of reach and control.

“Who are ye and what is yer destination?” growled the first.

To answer was almost more than I could manage. My mouth was parched and my eyes had gone dim. In my ears was a roar drowning out all sound and thought. I kept reaching for Aine with my thoughts, but she was across the clearing and I could find no relief. The man was speaking, but only a rumbling murmur reached my ears. Destination did he say?

“My sister an' I are on route to our uncle in Kindrochit,” I rasped. Sweat beaded along my neck and my shivers were growing in intensity.

“Ye're lyin',” he said flatly.

He knew. How? My brain did not seem to be working right. Aine's terror pounded my head, confusing me.

“Bind an' blind them,” I heard him say, and a hot surge of panic raced through me. I could not be bound. The power was rising and soon I wouldn't be able to control it. Panicked, I reached for the thoughts of the man who had spoken, but I could get nothing. It was as if a shutter had closed on my mind's eye. What was happening? I still felt Aine nearby. Her emotions were meshing with my own and driving me mad.

Suddenly a rough cloth came down over my eyes. I bucked, trying to push it away when I felt a sharp bite of pain at my neck. In a panic I began to thrash.

“Tormod, be still!” Aine cried. “Don't fight it. He has a knife.”

Her voice was silenced then as completely as my sight, and hysteria filled me. I reached for the power, commanding it to come, and yet it would not. “Aine!” I shouted, straining toward her.

A new voice added to the mix, addressing me. “Hold ye now. If ye know what's good for ye, ye'll steady up. No harm is intended.”

At the newcomer's words the man holding the knife to my throat stepped away. Still blind, I teetered, stumbling back over the uneven ground. Hands reached out to steady me and I automatically reached to read him. Even by touch I felt nothing. When I was able to stand on my own, he let go. Panic ripped through me then with such a vengeance I dropped to my knees and began to retch.

It was ridiculous and embarrassing to lose my stomach with all the world watching, but there was no help for it. I heaved and gagged as if my insides would turn out.

“Release her,” said the leader. “Go to him.”

I anticipated Aine's approach with nearly a hunger, needing her touch, but miserable that I was making a spectacle of myself.

“Give them some time. Ready the horses.”

I felt Aine's hand at my back and grew faint with relief. The worst of the nausea and fear settled instantly.

“Bind them, hand to hand,” the leader said.

Aine helped me to my feet and, though it might have looked odd, I gripped her hand desperately. We waited, tense and frightened. They bound her eyes as well. I knew, for she had to let go a moment as they turned and tied her. The bile began to rise again, but was forgotten almost instantly when they bound our wrists to each other. We waited in the darkness for some indication as to what was expected of us. I was weak and shaky, and my mouth tasted of dung.

Who were these men? What were we to them? I listened carefully, but the only sounds I heard were the soft rustle of footsteps, the whisper of the trees, and the soft, even shush of Aine's breath.

“You will mount up now,” said the leader.

Aine and I were helped into the saddle. Around us the creak of leather and the shift of hooves signaled the crew's readiness to travel.

“Tormod,” Aine whispered in my ear.

“Are ye all right?” I asked, barely able to move my lips.

“Aye.”

“Yer voice cut off so quickly I thought they gagged ye,” I said.

“They did, but the strange one took it off me when I mounted,” she whispered in return.

“Ye felt it, too?” Our horse started forward, following the lead of the rest. “Tell me.”

“I can sense nothing in him,” she said. “I don't usually notice because it's just a part of the way people appear to me, but …”

“Aye,” I said. “It's downright eerie. No emotion. No feel of life,” I murmured.

“I feel the others,” she said.

“They're all blank to me. The power is no' mine to command right now,” I said, frustrated and frightened. “Be wary around the last. If he feels different to ye, trust that he is.”

“Aye.”

We rode blind, and my thoughts raced. I had never been totally without contact to the power. It was a helpless feeling. Thinking that at any moment we might be led off a cliff had my insides heaving. But there were advantages as well. Without my eyes to distract me, I heard things I might not have otherwise.

The men spoke in soft tones, yet their words came to me clearly. Aine and I had stumbled across the site of a secret meeting. They thought us spies, sent from the camp of an enemy.

The journey was long, much of it up slopes and through forest. And through it all, I felt no life from anything around me. I rode in a daze with Aine slumped against me. Exhausted, she had fallen asleep. I held her close so that she would not topple off. Time passed slowly. I had no idea what they meant to do with us. But it mattered not, there was nothing I could do about it.

Higher in the mountains the air grew colder. When I felt Aine's shiver against my chest, I wriggled my plaid free and draped it around the both of us. She slept on, oblivious, and I spent the time trying to solid up my shielding.

Near midday, we rode into a flat patch and the horses stopped. I'd been drifting in and out and came awake as Aine did.

“What's happening?” she asked, her anxiety building and taking mine with it. Men were dismounting around us, their conversations muffled.

“I don't know, but we've arrived wherever we are meant to.” The snap of twigs announced the approach of someone and I pressed my legs to hers in warning.

“Ye won't be needing these,” he said. The voice was the blank one. I squinted to see what he looked like as the covering over my eyes came free. He was a tall, ruddy-skinned man with dark hair and eyes. As he stared at us I had the feeling he was taking my measure. “To those who don't know them, the mountain paths are treacherous. So I'd forget the notion to run ere it comes to ye.” I stared at him, trying to see what it was that made him so different, so silent. I found nothing.

It was fully dark and we were at the center of a gathering. Tents were pitched at various spots. A large fire glowed brilliantly nearby. Across its span a great spit stretched and a brace of hare was roasting. My stomach rumbled.

We were untied and helped from the horse. Aine sidled close to my side and took my hand in hers. I was glad of it, for the fear had returned as did my awareness of more men around us. Out of the loop of my plaid Aine began once again to shiver.

“Can I have our pack?” I asked the man. “We're cold.”

“Haul up next to the fire,” the blank one said. “We need to go through it first.”

He disappeared into one of the larger tents, leaving us behind on our own. Our guards had scattered as well. No one seemed concerned that we would try to run. As I looked around I understood. We were in the middle of nowhere.

“Where are we?” asked Aine.

I shrugged and tugged her toward the fire. Her hand in mine seemed more natural now, though I wasn't quite sure when that had happened. Perhaps while riding and traveling as close as we had been. It was a good thing, for I badly needed her calming.

Several men moved about, one turned the spit and adjusted the fire, another sharpened his blade with a stone by the trees. Yet another stood, watchful, and peered back along the path we'd traveled.

“What do you make of this place?” Aine asked.

“I don't know. I can't imagine why they would have brought us along and no' killed us outright,” I whispered.

We sat by the fire's edge, waiting while life continued in the clearing as if we were of no account. But for the man who tended the fire, no one noticed or seemed to care that we existed.

A long while passed. “D'ye think they're the watch?” Aine finally asked.

“I don't think so. And even if they are, what are the chances of them knowing we are wanted? It hasn't been long enough for word to reach them.” I wanted to reassure her, but in truth these could be those very men. Our fate was no longer in our hands.

The flap on one of the large tents stirred and a man I had not seen before stepped into the firelight. My eyes seized on him in an instant, and my heart for no good reason skipped a beat. He approached alone, and Aine, who had been quietly complaining that she was starving, went unaccountably still.