Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture (18 page)

Was she going to take someone else’s word over his?

“Arik, you’re an amateur at this. To you, it’s simply a game. To me, it’s my life.” He knew exactly what was at stake. Better than she did. “You don’t know anything about the scientific method for research.” She leaned back in her chair, her hands resting on its arms. He swiveled her chair so she faced him and stood in front of her with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips.

“It seems
you
are the one who is the amateur. You know nothing of history but odd facts, not their meaning or their impact. You see history through your time, your century, and apply your meaning.”

He bent closer with both his hands grasping the arms of her chair, holding her captive and invading her space. He left her no room to see anything other than the purpose in his eyes. “It’s a chess game, Rebeka. You have to examine it from—”

“All angles,” she whispered. Her breath caught at the words. He felt the blood drain from his face. Would she remember him? Break through the enchantment completely?

“If you see it only from your perspective you will surely miss the meaning.” He pulled himself away. He waited and watched but her eyes held no recognition. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Disappointed, he left by the terrace door. He trotted down the steps and into the garden. How much more could he stand of watching her almost remember or remembering a little, only to have it lost? He glanced back at the manor. Was this Bran’s plan?
This is torture
. He told her he would find her. He meant mind and body.

She closed her eyes. The loss of his closeness left her bereft.
All angles
ricocheted in her head, along with the tap of his boots against the slate floor as he’d retreated across the terrace. From the expression in his face she was afraid he wouldn’t come back.

Visions of large chess pieces flashed in front of her and a young girl’s voice. Was it her own? No, it wasn’t.

Angles—it was a lesson she’d learned a long time ago but couldn’t place where or when.

She knew Arik was right. She hadn’t examined the problem from every angle. She’d accepted the easy answer without investigating it further. She rested her head in her hands. The translation, the mill, Arik—everything was swimming together. Nothing made sense. Concentrate. She opened her eyes, hoping he was still there.

She hurt from disappointing him.

Another notion that made no sense.

She pulled herself out of her chair and collected her things. Arik was right. She hated blind acceptance in others. There was no way to condone it in herself. She had planned to search a few more places for the proclamation tonight but she was drained and needed some sleep.

She collected what she needed, but what she needed was a miracle, a proclamation. She glanced out the terrace door. She needed to tell him she was sorry. One step at a time, that’s what she told herself. Everyone would have to settle for the best she could do. Before she walked out the door, she looked at the picture above the mantel.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Arik acknowledged the female guests he passed across from the barn.

“Lord Arik, I have a question.” He stopped and gave one of the women his attention. “Yes, m’lady?” He patiently answered their questions. Yes, it was a long and arduous task to become a knight. No, he hadn’t killed anyone recently but he was looking forward to it. Yes, it was difficult to run a large household. Screw damsels? Some concepts defied the centuries.
No, I don’t fuck damsels. Although one does come to mind that I have every intention of
…

“If you will excuse me.” He gave them a short bow. They should be whipped for their wicked mouths. They wanted to embarrass him. He smirked; it was their faces that were red. He joined the men.

It had been three days since they’d discussed the restoring of the mill and the men had started cleaning it out. His coin appeared to move mountains, according to George, at least. The supplies started arriving yesterday thanks to Bill’s contacts.

“That’s great, Arik. You pass anything in a skirt and she’s ready to raise it for you. I’ve been working on the one in the yellow sweater all morning. I almost had her.” Jaxon, standing with three other soldiers, gestured at the bevy of beauties standing close by.

“Just about had her? You haven’t even spoken to her.” One of the others let out a well-timed snort. “Had her.”

“The ladies want a little attention. You stand here ignoring them. If you changed places with them who would you speak to?” The men looked sheepishly at him.

“It’s easier at a pub. You buy them an ale, you make conversation. Here, what do you do? What do you say?” The men nodded their agreement with Jaxon.

Arik glanced past them. The women had moved and were stretching their necks to see what the men were doing.

Arik pointed to one of the men. “Go tell the ladies to stand back a bit, by the water barrel. Tell them they’ve come in time to watch the wrestling match.”

“What wrestling match? Who’s wrestling?” They looked at each other in confusion.

He turned to Jaxon. “You and me.”

“Quick, you’ve got to see this,” one of the students yelled as he ran past the open classroom window. “At the barn,” he shouted over his shoulder.

The garrison was empty within minutes. Rebeka grabbed her staff and followed the stampede. When she arrived at the barn, the crowd was so thick she had to force her way to the front. “What’s going on?”

One of her students leaned toward her and pointed to the two men wrestling. “So far Jaxon hasn’t been able to get Lord Arik on the ground, no matter what he tries. I’d have my money on Lord Arik, if I was betting.” He focused his attention back on the wrestlers.

“Me, too,” Rebeka said. She watched and shouted her encouragement with the others before she retrieved Arik’s things by the fence where she enjoyed a ringside seat. There was something familiar in the dance.

The startling déjà vu feeling tingled as it crept up her back.

She could predict Arik’s graceful movements. They flowed from one hold to another. Had she seen this all before? That’s wasn’t possible.

Finally, without a winner, the men ended the match with a handshake. The crowd applauded and screamed their enthusiasm. Arik spoke to Jaxon, who gave him a wry smile. Jaxon ambled over to the water barrel.

The woman in the yellow sweater gave the overheated Jaxon a cup of water. He gave her a thankful nod and while his eyes held hers, he poured the cup over his head—to her delight. His T-shirt stuck to him and outlined his well-defined body. The soldier lazily took off the wet shirt, showing off his well-ripped abs and washboard stomach. His biceps, knotted from the exertion, rippled when the woman placed her hand tentatively on it. With her eyes focused on him she gave him another cup of water. This one he drank. She found herself breathing a bit heavily. Jaxon certainly gave the ladies a good show.

Rebeka saw all their guests were engaged with the soldiers. She pulled her attention back to Arik. His black T-shirt was wet with sweat and clung to him like a second skin.

“You could use a splash of water yourself.” Rebeka came toward him and handed him his things. She bit her bottom lip, trying to quiet her body.

She wanted him—all over her.

“Yes, I could. The exercise felt good.” He took his things from her.

“Perhaps a dip in the lake...” Her voice trailed off as she peered in the direction of Elfrida’s cottage. “Stuart, he wouldn’t wrestle…” Her voice was soft and distant. There was a quizzical expression on her face.

“Who is Stuart?” She stared at him, disoriented. She knew the name but couldn’t place the face. It was just out of sight.

“Stuart and his family owned Autumn Chase in this period. Perhaps you saw his name in some research.” No, she didn’t see it in any research. It was someone she knew. Dammit, she couldn’t place who it was.

“Arik.” Her voice was hesitant. She rested her hand on his chest and felt his pounding heart. He was real.

“Arik,” she said confidently. The hard lines of his face softened. She was free, not locked in the room at Skara Brae. But already the mist was pulling her back.

“Don’t give up on me.” His face brightened. “I love—”

“Dr. Tyler. Dr. Tyler.” She glanced past him. Marle was waving as she rushed toward them. A cold chill ran up her spine, ending in a quick, stabbing pain in her head.

Something had been familiar but the idea was lost.

She stared at Arik but couldn’t put it together. “I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought,” she said to him then stepped past him. “Yes, Marle?”

“Ms. Richards is waiting for you with her quarterstaff.” She rolled her shoulder. The bruise was still there but not the pain.

She checked her watch. “I forgot.” She sniffed the air. “Smells like we’re in for a lightning storm.” She left without another word.

“What was all the commotion about?” Louise pulled out her quarterstaff.

Rebeka entered the clearing by the lake. “The men had a spur-of-the-moment wrestling match. You should have been there. Arik and Jaxon put on a good show.”

Louise swung around. “He did? I would have loved to see that. I could only imagine him all glistening and damp, and those arms of his. How they must look all knotted and strained. Did they strip down to their loincloths?” She laughed, fanning herself with her hand and letting out a deep breath. “Have you ever watched him from behind? He’s got the tightest little—”

“Do you want to exercise or do you need a cold shower?” Louise was getting annoying with her Arik talk.

Louise smiled. “I don’t know why you insist on denying you’re attracted to him. Really, Rebeka, have you taken a good look at him? He’s quite the man and he doesn’t seem to be only brawn. He has brains, too. I like them smart to a point, then smart is the last thing I want. I prefer to set the pace.” With a wink she left Rebeka where she stood and took her stance in the middle of the clearing.

Rebeka ignored her.

She had no intention of telling Louise how the man seemed to seep into all her thoughts, even her dreams. No, the less Louise knew about her and how she felt about Arik, the better. A deep breath and a shake of her shoulders loosened her muscles. Clearing her mind of the brawny brainy guy wasn’t as easy. She took her place next to Louise and gave her head and shoulders another shake.

She was set and ready to go. They warmed up with their flourishes. Rebeka eased into the familiar routine and got into her stride.

“I haven’t a lot of time today so let’s get right to it.” Louise set her stance. Rebeka didn’t mind; she followed suit.

They held their staffs ready for freestyle and feigned engaging.

“Timid today?” Louise smirked. “Lord Arik doesn’t like timid women. I have firsthand knowledge.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “You would think he likes to be in control. Well, he does, sometimes.”

Rebeka stiffened at the idea of Louise with Arik, but she let the comment roll off. She knew Louise’s tactic.

The woman’s moves were not elegant. Instead she relied on provoking her opponent to break the structured pattern. That was the easy way to fail.

But the image of Louise and Arik played over and over in her mind.

“If you’re going to play defensively, then I’ll have to start.” Louise brought the tip of her staff down for a low attack at Rebeka’s legs. Rebeka blocked her. They circled and parried, creating a steady rhythm of attack, block and set up to the beat of their wooden staffs.

Louise double-tapped Rebeka’s staff. The break from the rhythm, along with her distracted mind, threw Rebeka off balance. Louise spun, took aim and hit her hard on the back. The strike sent her to the ground in the wet grass along the shore. She rolled a full circle before coming back onto her feet.

“You’re not concentrating.” Louise advanced. Rebeka blocked and set her staff vertically, with its tip on the ground wedged into her instep. Louise circled and swung at Rebeka’s unprotected midsection. But Rebeka spun to the side. When Louise’s staff hit hers she kicked up her staff, rotated it with a corkscrew motion and knocked Louise’s staff away.

Louise was quick to counter with an overhead attack. Rebeka thrust her staff at Louise but missed.

Louise spun around and hit Rebeka full force in her side.

Rebeka held her staff across her body, her hands at either end. Louise advanced, striking first from below, and then above. Rebeka blocked the repeated onslaught.

On a downward stroke Louise kicked up dirt.

“Hold,” Rebeka called and stopped to clear her eyes.

Her eyes still closed, Rebeka turned in time to see that Louise had taken advantage of the distraction and was about to spear her foot with the end of the staff.

She blocked the attack. Louise knocked the staff from Rebeka’s hands.

Rebeka took an aggressive stance and let her instincts take over. She didn’t need to see. Her body told her where the threat came from. The dirt still in her eyes, she didn’t have to wait long for Louise’s next attack. She was ready. The woman charged her staff at waist level. As the staff came within her reach, Rebeka grabbed it and pulled it hard to her right.

The momentum and Rebeka’s redirection caused Louise to lose her grip. Now in Rebeka’s hand and her eyes still closed, Rebeka swung long and hard, catching Louise behind her knees. As she fell forward, Rebeka wound tight like a spring and released, hitting Louise in the chest. Louise flew backward into the lake, sitting in several inches of water.

At last the dirt cleared from her eyes. Rebeka, breathing hard, bent over with her hands on her thighs and gulped air.

“Louise, you seem to be all wet.” Rebeka took her staff. Louise got out of the lake, a surprised expression on her face. “I’ve got to change for a class. You may need ice for that.” She pointed to the bloodred welt that showed through the top of Louise’s shirt. “You know the way out,” she said over her shoulder as she made her way back toward the manor.

“She remembered. For a moment she remembered.” He was with George and Cora at Autumn Chase staring across the sculpted gardens.

Cora put down her cocktail. “Are you certain?”

“I saw the recognition in her eyes. She spoke of Stuart. I’m certain she would have said more but Marle interrupted us and when I searched her eyes again they were vacant.”

“You said there were small signs that she recognized you.” George offered him a refill. Arik waved him off. “Perhaps you should be closer to her, stay in the manor rather than at the garrison. I’ll think of a way to get her to move and have you both under the same roof.”

The distant sound of heavy machinery caught Rebeka by surprise. She peered out the manor door and watched as the machines converged on the parkland.
What are they doing?
The noise added to her building headache.
The longer she listened to the din the more she gnashed her teeth. Unable to sit still any longer, she charged toward the gate. She was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another.

It wasn’t until she got to the tractors ripping up the parkland that she slowed and realized her headache was at full tilt.

Her students were clustered around Arik who seemed to be holding court, giving instructions. More than annoyed, she stomped up to him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted over the noise in front of everyone.

She pulled at his arm to turn him around. He didn’t budge but rather stood solidly in place and glanced in her direction, giving her a scathing stare. The people around them dispersed quickly.

“I said,” she shouted even louder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

A long moment ticked past as his gaze seared hers. Three more heartbeats passed before he returned to watching the activity.

“We’ve harnessed the horses to plow the ground and help with the clearing.” Rebeka’s very excited historical agriculture student approached Arik holding some papers. “The plan is to plow straight over to the western edge.” The student gestured to the far end of the field.

“No. That side of the field is lower than the rest and floods. The seeds will wash away. It’s best to stop over there—the area marked by the cypress trees.” Arik pointed to the stand of trees short of the western edge. The student nodded and trotted off to instruct the others.