Desire (37 page)

"Forgive me if I do not trust the depth of your feelings for this boy," Lucretius said. "But I know that you will most certainly think carefully before you risk your lady's neck. Clare is, after all, the most valuable member of your household, is she not? Without her, the flowers of Desire are worthless. Clare, come here at once."

"Clare, no," Gareth said roughly. He felt his stomach clench with fear.

"Tis for the best, my lord," Clare said. "Trust me."

She went calmly down the steps.

Lucretius did not hesitate. He released William, grabbed Clare, and crooked his arm around her throat.

Then he retreated swiftly into the haze that filled the courtyard.

"Damn your soul to hell, magician." Rage lanced through Gareth, hot and fierce. He moved to follow Lucretius and Clare.

"My lord, wait." William caught hold of Gareth's arm.

"Go back inside the hall." The damned magician was already disappearing into the smoke, Gareth realized.

"But there is something I must tell you before you go after the magician," William hissed softly. "Clare put mugwort inside the pouch. Sir Lucretius will soon begin to sneeze uncontrollably. His eyes will water and he will be rendered helpless."

Gareth looked down at William. "Are you certain?"

"Aye, my lord. He has a terrible reaction to mugwort. I saw what happened when Clare once gave him a pomander that was filled with it. He accused her of trying to poison him."

"Go back inside the hall and wait until Sir Ulrich tells you to open the door."

"Aye, my lord." William hesitated. "You will fetch Clare back, will you not?"

"Aye." He looked at Dalian. "Come with me, Squire."

Dalian turned a stark face to him. "He will kill her, my lord."

"Nay. We will rescue her. It is the magician who will not survive this night."

He strode toward the gate and called to one of the men-at-arms to open it.

Ulrich hailed him through the smoke. "We have the magician's knights, my lord."

"Lock them up until I return."

"But where are you going?"

"To hunt a magician."

* * *

Once outside the gate, Gareth discovered that an eerie silence now gripped the isle. The chill of dawn had caused the fog to thicken measurably.

The gray mist glowed with the pale light of morning. Unfortunately, that pearly luminescence only served to veil the landscape more completely. Attempting to see through the fog was akin to peering into the smoked crystal stone in the pommel of his sword, Gareth thought. There was light there, but it fooled the eye and obscured the depths.

"What are we going to do?" Dalian asked in a whisper.

"I believe he will head for the first of the small coves. He will seek the small boat that he hid there."

Dalian glanced at Gareth, startled. "You found a boat in one of the caves?"

"Aye. I gave orders that the caves were to be searched every few hours. One of the men discovered a vessel concealed there a short while ago."

"The magician's boat?"

"No doubt. The bowmen were merely a distraction. He never intended to meet up with them or to leave by way of the harbor." Gareth glanced around, searching for familiar landmarks in the fog. Through the mist he spotted the shape of one of the outbuildings. "That way. Henceforth, say nothing. Walk as silently as you can."

Dalian nodded.

Gareth led the way across the mist-shrouded field. When the outbuilding faded into the fog, he used the sound of the waves as a guide.

He and Dalian had not gone more than twenty paces when they heard the first great sneeze. It came from up ahead and off to the left.

Dalian looked at Gareth, his eyes widening with realization.

Gareth smiled. My sweet, clever Clare. You have snared the magician for me. Now all I have to do is wait for the right moment to kill him.

The second sneeze was accompanied by a raging curse.

"Goddamn this isle and all your obnoxious perfumes, Clare. There must be a field of mugwort nearby."

"Release me, sir," Clare commanded. "You do not need me any longer."

"Hush. Do not speak again. That damned Hellhound is no doubt following us." Lucretius broke off to sneeze.

Gareth used the sound to guide himself closer to his quarry. He motioned Dalian to stay behind him.

They were very near the edge of the cliffs now. Gareth could hear the echo of the waves in the cove. He heard Clare cry out softly as she stumbled over some object.

"The boat is hidden in the cave down below," Lucretius muttered. "You will go down the cliff path ahead of me. There is no place to run, so don't even think of doing so. Go. I will be right behind you—"

The magician's words were cut off by a swift series of loud, convulsive sneezes. He swore again, violently. And sneezed again.

The sound of a brief scuffle ensued.

"Nay," Clare said. "I'll not go with you."

"Come back here, you stupid wench. I will kill you with my magic if you do not return to me." Another sneezing fit overcame Lucretius. "What is this?" he gasped. "What have you done to me? Damn you, 'tis the book."

Something heavy fell to earth. Gareth knew that it was the leather pouch Lucretius had slung across his body. The magician had thrown it down onto the ground in rage.

"You have tried to poison me," Lucretius screamed. "I'll kill you for this, just as I killed your father."

"Leave," Clare cried. "Flee while you still can, magician. If my husband finds you, he will surely destroy you."

Gareth saw the flash of Clare's gown in the fog. A new fear seized him. He realized that Clare could not see any more clearly than he could. If she chanced to lose her bearings, she might fall into the sea.

"Clare, this way," he shouted. "Do not run toward the cliffs. Run to me."

Footsteps thudded softly in the moist ground. Clare appeared out of the mist. She ran blindly toward the sound of his voice. Then she saw him.

"Gareth."

"Stay with Dalian." Gareth raised his sword and went past her.

He nearly stumbled over the leather pouch that was lying on the ground. The book had fallen out. Dried flowers were scattered about. The familiar scent of mugwort was strong.

Another loud sneeze made Gareth whirl to the left. Lucretius stood in the swirling gray mist. His black cloak was thrown back behind his shoulders, revealing his mail hauberk.

"So you think that you are a more clever magician than I, Hellhound?"

Gareth did not answer. He paced toward Lucretius.

"Stay back." Lucretius held his sword ready for battle with one hand. With his other, he reached into the folds of his cape and withdrew an object the size of a cup. "I can throw the contents of this vial farther than you can reach with a sword, Hellhound."

Gareth glanced at the large vial. It was filled with a green-tinged potion that he did not recognize. "Do you think I fear whatever you have in that jar?"

"You would do well to fear it." Lucretius's smile was savage. "Tis a corrosive elixir that burns whatever it touches, including skin and eyes, Hellhound."

"He's right, my lord." Dalian took a step forward. He stared at the vial in Lucretius's hand. "Tis a mixture that he concocted when he tried to create gold from base metals. It burns like fire."

Lucretius laughed softly. "Listen to the boy, Hellhound. Or risk your eyes. What good is a blind hound?"

"Gareth, I believe that he speaks the truth," Clare said. "Do not get close to him."

"He does speak the truth," Dalian insisted. "Have a care, my lord."

Clare did not take her eyes off Lucretius. "Why did you kill the recluse?"

Lucretius shrugged. "The foolish old woman saw me. She believed me to be the ghost of Brother Bartholomew come to search for his lost Sister Maud. But for some reason she felt she had to prove the point."

"She followed you to the convent library and you killed her," Clare whispered.

"I wanted to see if you had stored your father's books in the convent library before I went to the trouble of trying to find it in your hall. It would have been so much simpler if you had handed it over to the nuns, Clare."

"They were not interested in it," Clare said. "So I kept it."

"Idiots." Lucretius glanced at the book lying near the pouch. "The greatest secrets of the ancients are in that volume. Your father found them in the Arabic treatises that he translated. Mayhap the very secret of immortality is in there."

"Do you intend to leave the isle without your precious book, magician?" Gareth prodded the volume with the toe of his boot.

"It appears that I shall be forced to leave it behind today, but you may be certain that I shall return for it." Lucretius smiled his cold, dazzling smile once more. "And you will never know when or where I shall next appear. The knowledge will no doubt keep you awake at night, eh, Hellhound?"

"I stopped you this time, did I not? I can do it again, if need be."

"Bah! You were fortunate this time, that is all. Next time, things will be different."

"Leave, then, if that is your intent. Take your foul elixir and get off this isle."

"As you wish, Hellhound. But first I will leave you something by which you shall always remember me." Lucretius hurled the vial, straight at Gareth's face.

"No," Dalian yelled. He leaped to intercept the vial, reaching for it with his bare hands.

"Dalian," Clare shouted.

Gareth did not even think about his reaction. It was instantaneous, the sort of quick, physical response that had saved his life on countless occasions.

With one hand he grabbed Dalian and yanked him out of the way. With the other he brought his sword up in a swift, short arc. He caught the vial on the flat of the blade.

Gareth used the momentum of the swing to propel the small jar off to the side. It struck a rock and shattered. There was a soft hissing sound.

"Dear God," Clare breathed. "It is eating away at the rock."

"You have the devil's own luck, Hellhound." Lucretius raced toward the cliff path. "But it cannot last forever."

"There is no boat waiting for you down in the cove, magician," Gareth said softly. "My men discovered it a short while ago."

"Nay, that cannot be." Lucretius's cloak whipped around him as he halted at the top of the cliff path. "You He. I discovered those caves. No one knows about the cliff caves."

Gareth smiled. "You do not know much about young boys. They are insatiably curious. William found the caves long ago."

"Damn you, Hellhound." Lucretius lunged toward him, sword raised.

Gareth met the rush easily. Steel clashed against steel. Lucretius leaped back out of reach, feinted, and closed once more.

The magician was good, Gareth conceded privately as the two men circled each other. He was both fast and clever. Lucretius might make a show of disdaining the fighting arts in favor of magic, but it was obvious he had a talent for swordplay.

Conscious of the sheer drop at the edge of the cliff, Gareth maneuvered to ensure that it was Lucretius's back that was to the sea, not his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Clare drag Dalian out of harm's way.

Lucretius attempted another rushing charge. Gareth sidestepped it.

The magician swung around and this time Gareth found himself in the position he had wished to avoid. His back was to the cliffs.

Lucretius closed again, sword glinting dully in the gray light. Gareth felt the ground give way beneath his left boot heel. The edge of the cliff began to crumble beneath him. The waves below were very loud.

With all of his strength, he dove forward, headfirst, in an attempt to dive beneath the thrust of Lucretius's steel.

Lucretius was already committed to the blow. His face contorted with rage as Gareth slid in low, just beneath the blade, hit the ground with his shoulder, and rolled.

"Die, Hellhound." Lucretius swung around as Gareth surged to his feet. Die, damn you."

Gareth saw the opening and moved in, sword ready. Lucretius could not get his own blade up swiftly enough to effectively parry the blow.

But even as Gareth went in for the kill, Lucretius screamed and dropped his sword. He flailed wildly as the ground gave way beneath his feet.

"No," Lucretius yelled. "No, it cannot happen like this. I'm a magician."

Gareth caught himself and stepped swiftly back from the disintegrating cliff edge.

Lucretius pitched backward into the gray nothingness that waited for him. His scream rent the air for endless seconds and then it abruptly ceased.

In the great silence that followed, Gareth met Clare's eyes.

"Gareth." She ran toward him and threw herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. "You are safe."

"Aye." Gareth looked over the top of her head at Dalian, who was staring at the place where Lucretius had last been seen.

"Do you think he is truly dead, my lord?' Dalian asked in a strange voice.

"Aye. You and I shall go down to the cove together. Be assured that we will find his body lying on the rocks. He was only a man, after all."

"A terrible man," Clare said distinctly from the circle of Gareth's arm. "Not at all a good recipe for a husband."

* * *

Clare had still not recovered from the shock of the day's events by the time she and Gareth retired to their bedchamber that evening.

On the surface, all had returned to normal. Ranulf had been found, alive but unconscious, in the watchtower. He had soon recovered from the blow to his head, but, Clare suspected his pride would take longer to heal.

Lucretius's body had been retrieved from the cove. The four black-cloaked knights that had survived the conflict and the three hapless bowmen were securely locked up in a storage cellar beneath the hall.

Joanna had recovered from her faint, hugged William until he pleaded with her to cease, and then thrown herself straight into Ulrich's arms.

The village was abuzz with excitement as neighbor retold the tale to neighbor. With each telling, the exploits of the Hellhound grew more impressive. Clare knew that her people were taking a great deal of pride in the fact that their lord had proven himself more powerful than any magician.