A Wanton's Thief (17 page)

“Falcon,” he huffed, short of breath. “You must make haste. Salena has escaped with the captured prisoner, Lathrop.”

His heart split in two. “Escaped?”

“Aye. It seems Grizella freed Lathrop and gave him means to travel by. Her stipulation was that he must take Salena with him and return her to her keep. I’m having trouble tracking them.”

Falcon’s teeth ground together making a dull scrape. His nostrils flared and white plumes of condensation puffed from them. “And why did you not stop them?”

“Grizella drugged me and the remainder of the fellows before I knew what she was about. ‘Tis why I’m so hazy this very moment. I traveled as fast as I could in the condition she’s left me in.” His tone held an angry edge, and Falcon knew that meant Grizella would pay for her mistake.

“Forgive me, John, for speaking out so hastily.”

“No, ‘tis all right, brother. Do not dally with words. We must go.”

“First, please go inside and see Otis. His wife needs healing. Apparently, she’s very ill.”

“Nay, I must go with you for Salena’s sake.”

“John, you can be inside and heal her, then still be well ahead of me in a flash as I make this journey.”

John sighed. It was evident he worried over Salena’s welfare. “Aye, you are right as usual.” He didn’t speak another word but strode straight to the cabin. He rapped on the rotting door and disappeared inside.

Falcon stuffed the note back into his codpiece and took out on Warrior as if the devil rode him every second of the way.

“Lorcan, if you can hear me, go to her. Go to her and tell her I love her before it’s too late. And please don’t Sheldon get to her before I do, before I have a chance to show her the proof she needs of his deceit.”

Chapter Ten

Salena dreamed of him. Falcon came to her laughing, mocking her. Behind him, John stood smiling smugly, his pale blue eyes gleaming like a tinted diamond, its edges sharp and dangerous. She rolled from side to side inhaling the acrid odor of straw. Cold permeated her skin in damp fingers of pain. She shivered, screaming when the two wicked bandits started to chase her. There was nothing else to do but get up and run. Her feet felt like blocks of numb ice. She trudged on and on, gasping for air, glancing behind herself frantically as she raced in slow motion through the forest. The rhythm of her heart beat in time with her footsteps and echoed in her head.

“Falcon, why have you deceived me this way?” she asked as she continued to run.

She heard the reverberation of his laugh behind her. He was coming, she knew, to cast another obedience spell on her, to force her against her will to do his bidding.

John was right on his heels. He came to demand soul-sustaining energy from her.

Why? Why couldn’t he just get it from Grizella? she wondered in confusion.

She came around a bend in the forest trail. Snow was now piled up to the tops of the trees. Salena looked ahead and behind, and claustrophobia assailed her. An endless ravine of white flanked her path. There was no way out but to keep running through the deep gorge.

But suddenly, she could hear Sheldon’s voice up ahead.

Finally, she would at least be in her brother’s protective arms! He would save her from the thieves and make her warm and happy once again. Sheldon would be overjoyed to have her back and he would find her a match if the duke rejected his soiled bride-to-be.

The sky above turned into a cloak of black velvet with puffs of gray clouds. She let out a sharp sigh at the sudden warmth that permeated her backside.

“Ha, that is but a fantasy within the reality.”

She gasped and whirled at the voice. Snow started to fall in fat flakes and through them, she saw an old man in a black monk’s robe. His long beard lay stark against the dark fabric and it made her think of the snow around her. Thin and feeble, he stood there gripping a crystal staff in one gnarled hand. The tall rod glowed and she immediately thought of an enormous icicle set before a blazing fire.

“Who are you?”

“They call me Lorcan.” He floated close to her and she shrank back, despite the welcoming warmth he brought with him.

“Lorcan? The wizard Falcon spoke of?”

“Aye, one and the same. Although,” he clucked, “I’m sure he referred to me as
old
wizard.”

“Hm, that he did, I believe.”

“Figures. He may be the chosen one, but that still doesn’t give him the right to insult an old man, don’t you think?” He grinned all the while he made his point so she didn’t take him seriously.

“Ah, yes, he spoke of being called the chosen one. But I wonder…why have you come to me in this nightmare? Are you, too, going to haunt me as Falcon and John are doing?”

He moved closer yet and that was when she saw the strange medallion. It enthralled her and made her long to reach out and touch it. The dazzling blue of it looked very familiar to her, yet she could not place it. It was on the very tip of her tongue but just would not come forth. She blinked when he spoke again, and his voice drew her eyes back to his. And she saw the eyes for the first time. White. All white except for the black pupil in the center. It made her tremble with a combination of fear and fascination.

“Falcon and John are not truly here.”

“They’re not? B-but I saw them. They chased me, mocking me in that mean way of theirs.”

Lorcan threw his head back and roared. Winds swirled around her, stirring her cloak and gown. “This is your nightmare, Salena. You have made them that way only in your mind. It is not real. It is not the real Falcon and John. But you already know that in your heart.”

“No, even during waking hours, they deceived me.”

Lorcan waved a hand and a stone seat appeared. He sat, still gripping the staff, and gestured for her to sit beside him. Despite the trepidation she felt, she lowered her weary body onto the bench and sat with him.

Ah, but the bench warmed her to the very marrow of her bones! She exhaled silently before asking, “Why have you sought me out, wizard?”

“Because you are Falcon’s intended, and you are about to make a big mistake.”

“Intended?”

“Oh, aye,” he grinned. “Not as in soul-mate or anything as easy as that.” He tilted his head back and gazed at the parting clouds. “Oh, if only it were that simple.”

“Sir, I feel no more less confused now than I did when those scamps were chasing me. Kindly explain yourself.”

His eyes sliced down to her like two coal-dotted snowballs. Steam puffed from his mouth and nose. She caught the odd scent of him…ale mixed with ginger? Strange combination, she surmised.

“Look up with me.” He slowly lifted his gaze back to the sky. She followed his lead. The ominous clouds moved off the canvas of the space above them leaving behind a scattering of winking stars.

“Yes, I see…the sky.”

“Nay, look closer…”

She narrowed her eyes. Again, she saw nothing out of the ordinary night sky.

“Closer, I say.”

“I am, I—” Then she saw it. It made her gasp. She cupped a hand over her gaping mouth. There within the masterpiece of space glittered a picture of herself in arrangement with the stars. It was as if she were a part of the universe!

“Mm-hmm.” Lorcan clucked his tongue. “So you do see it?”

“Aye…I see it, myself in the sky. What…what does it mean?”

“If you could not see it, it would mean nothing.”

“And if I do see it—which I do—what does
that
mean?”

“That my foresight is correct—which isn’t always the case.” He cleared his throat. “At least not in the way it looks to me.”

Salena sighed and snapped her gaze back to him. “Why must you speak in such riddles? Can you not just tell me what it is you so smugly allude to?”

He rose and she watched his black-clad form start to glow. His body lifted upward and began to fade then glow again.

“Nay, Salena, I cannot. You must find the way for yourself. It is all already in your heart.” He pressed his wrinkled hand to his chest while the other hand gripped the crystal staff. “Now that I’m certain you are who I suspected, I can no longer help in any way. ‘Tis up to you, child.”

Lorcan started to flicker.

“No, don’t go yet!” Salena leapt to her feet and extended a hand into the hot air that sizzled between them.

He bent and loomed before her. The one hand let go of the rod but the staff did not fall. Lifting the medallion from his nape, he dragged it over his head. And he placed it over hers. It settled warm and heavy between her breasts. Tingly heat and a sense of power engulfed her. The familiar blue stone winked up at her when she tipped it.

What an amazing dream this is!

“I tell you, ‘tis no dream. You will awaken with the medallion, the
Centaurus
I’ve been carrying with me through centuries. It is now in its rightful place.”

“B-but I don’t understand. No, don’t…go.” In one bright blink, he was gone.

She stood there watching as the clouds moved back in. Cold wind blew in, ruffling her garments and long hair around her. But she was so sleepy…

Salena accepted the drowsiness that overtook her. She laid down, curled up on the warm stone bench and slept dreamless. The mysterious medallion now nestled in her bosom as if it had finally come home to her. But the bliss did not last long.

“Wake up.” Someone shook her, their fingers biting into her arms.

Her eyes fluttered open with reluctant dread. All she wanted was to stay asleep on the toasty stone forever.

“Salena, you bitch, I said wake up!”

The sting of a slap across her face drew a shriek from her. Her eyelids popped open and she would never forget the sight that met her eyes. That of her brother, Sheldon, his gaze blazing with hate as he raised his hand yet again and slapped her across the face.

* * * * *

The day had already dawned gray and cold with the scent of more snow in the air. Falcon rode as hard and as fast as Warrior’s hooves could take him. He was only a short distance from Molly Pierce’s inn when Lance came barreling around a bend in the forest path. His little feet trudged through the deep snow. He panted as he ran, pumping his little arms at his sides.

“Lance,” Falcon said, reining Warrior to a stop. “What troubles you?”

His eyes bulged in what Falcon surmised was relief. He raced to Falcon’s side and gripped his boot. Looking up at him with terror in his eyes, he gulped, “Your lady. You must hurry and save her!”

His heart skipped a beat. “My lady? You refer to Lady Salena?”

“Aye, aye! Miss Molly let it slip where Lord Tremayne could find her. They came upon the cart with the man Lathrop guiding it and your lady hiding asleep in the back. Lord Tremayne dragged her all the way here. She is in the barn strung up. Oh, master Falcon,” he cried, “I’ve never seen so much blood!”

Falcon’s stomach lurched while anger boiled his soul. He’d left her behind in John’s care never thinking the man Lathrop would try and escape with her. He’d wrongly assumed Sheldon’s rejected man had defected into his band. Then he remembered John’s tale of what had occurred. And Falcon never thought in a million years that Grizella would betray him, using Lathrop, so that it resulted in the woman he loved being hurt or possibly killed. To drug his soul-brother to further her plot to have Falcon to herself, no doubt. His brows dipped. The woman would definitely be put out from the clan.

He inhaled deep and long and reached down, clutching Lance’s arm. “Up you go. Quickly.”

The boy was catapulted effortlessly onto the steed’s back behind Falcon. “Hold tight,” Falcon roared, and he dug his heels into Warrior’s flanks. “Ya! Ya!”

The horse reared up and took off toward the barn behind the inn. Falcon came to a halting stop near the rear kitchen door and deposited Lance on the back portal step. “Go inside, lad. I shall repay you for this kindness at another time, I promise you.”

Lance nodded and turned, slipping in through the back door.

Falcon leapt from the Friesian warhorse leaving it to root through the snow for stray grazing weeds. He crept toward the barn, his teeth clenching, his heart wrenching, at the thought of what he might find. There were a dozen or so horses scattered here and there, all saddled with evidence of being recently ridden.

He could hear the sickening sounds of lashing before he even reached the slightly ajar double door to the stable. Drawing his longbow, he notched an arrow and kicked open one rotting door. It creaked and slammed against a stall. Nearly a score of gazes snapped to him, his target, Sheldon Tremayne, standing in the center of the barn with a leather rein strap poised to whip Salena.

Falcon suppressed a wave of nausea along with the instinct to run to her. Her gown hung in shreds from her battered body. Fresh open lashes oozing blood crisscrossed the tender, alabaster flesh of her back. She sagged unconscious against thick ropes that chaffed her dainty wrists. Her long silky tresses streamed down her back sticking to the open wounds. He couldn’t see her face, but he prayed it had been left intact.

I’ll kill the bastard!

Rage such as he’d never felt in his entire existence simmered, threatening to spew forth. He closed one eye and aimed the tip of the arrow at Sheldon’s heart. “Let her go, Tremayne. Now. Leave without incident or you die.”

Sheldon slowly lowered the whip. His blazing red hair had darkened around his hairline and collar where sweat poured from his pale skin. His coal-dark eyes glittered with the devil’s hatred.

“Get him!”

A clatter of activity sounded. His men sprang into action, raising and notching their own bows. Falcon reached for the door and swung it in toward him, the move giving the arrows’ tips a sure target as they arced up into the high ceiling and rained down. The whiz-click of arrows in flight and imbedding in wood echoed through the room.

Falcon took advantage of the pause as the men reloaded. He peered around the half-open door and quickly assessed the situation. Since they’d stepped forward in a line protecting their master, he re-aimed his arrow and released it upon the nearest fool—he would get to Sheldon in due time. The iron tip penetrated the nearest man’s lung. His bow fell to the dirt floor with a thud and he clutched the lethal wound, gasping for air. His breathing turned ragged as he dropped to his knees, blood now gurgling from his mouth.

He fell facedown upon the arrow pushing it further into his chest. Falcon wasted no time snatching a new arrow. Drawing back, he aimed again and picked off another man before the others could finish preparing for round two.

“Get him, you fools! What are you waiting for?”

Another series of arrows showered down. Falcon yanked the door in again until the sharp clatter calmed.

“Let her go, Tremayne,” he yelled from the opposite side of the barn door as he re-notched. “Let her go and you will live.”