Forbidden Magic (4 page)

Jewel bowed her head. "Yea, Your Grace. I will leave as soon as a mount is made ready. 'Tis the least I can offer."

Eleanor leaned forward and touched Jewel's hand, which was resting in her lap. "I knew you would. You are of a kind most rare, Jewel of Harcourt, and your name is most fitting. A jewel among stones. I have made you my favorite with good reason. I can entrust my life unto your hands and never have cause to worry. And now I entrust my son's."

Brown eyes that were filled with the color of sunlight glanced up at her. "Thank you, Your Highness. I am honored to be considered so."

Eleanor smiled again. "And wilt thou forgive me if I have erred and cheated you?"

"Cheated me, Your Majesty? How so?"

"As I trust you, so doth my son trust his favored knight, Sir Amery of Wellington, your betrothed. 'Twas he the king sent to announce the message of his captors, and I sent him on to fulfill the task without allowing the two of you a moment's time together."

"I have not been cheated, Your Majesty," Jewel assured her. "He is my betrothed and we have our lives to spend together. 'Twas merely delayed a bit."

"Then hasten in your efforts to return home, for I gave him leave to do the same. He and his friend travel now for Wellington and will rest only a short while before seeking to collect the ransom. I trust he will take a moment then to feast his eyes on the beauty of his future bride."

A light blush rose on Jewel's face. "You are overkind with your words."

"Nay, Jewel," Eleanor corrected, "only truthful." Graciously, she came to her feet and was followed by her companion. "Now return to your chambers and make ready the things you wish to take with you. I will instruct two of my knights and one of my attendants to escort you home as soon as you command it."

"Yea, Your Grace," Jewel answered, sinking into a low curtsy. When she stood again, she smiled encouragingly at the dowager queen. "Rest well this night knowing all of England will join together to save their king."

"Nay, Jewel, my precious. A mother can only rest when she knows her son is safe." Eleanor sighed. "But the burden of my heart is lighter knowing you and your betrothed fight the same cause as I." Reaching out, she stroked Jewel's cheek. "Now begone and carry glad tidings to the lord and lady of Harcourt from their king's mother."

"Yea, Your Highness." Jewel nodded, then hurriedly went to the door where she paused and smiled back once more at the dowager queen before quietly making her exit.

* * *

The next hour passed in a frenzy of excitement. Word of Jewel's meeting with the dowager queen and her reason for returning home quickly spread throughout the palace. Lynette and Dawn came to her chambers as soon as they heard, both of them in tears and emitting a flurry of words. They wished her well and safe travel and vowed someday to visit. And once Jewel had changed from the yellow samite to plain ivory linen, donned her fox-lined mantle, mauve-colored wimple to hide her coppery curls and protect her from the crisp bite of the December day, and short boots for riding, the trio silently made their way to the gates of the palace, there to pause for one last farewell.

"I shall miss you," Jewel whispered, her throat tight, "both of you. You are true friends."

Dawn briskly wiped a defiant tear from her cheek. "We will not allow you time to miss us. We shall visit soon. Perhaps to witness your wedding?" She forced a smile.

"Yea, my wedding," Jewel answered solemnly. A moment of awkward silence passed before she suddenly opened her arms and pulled the sisters into her embrace. Tears blurred her vision. She chose not to speak again, for the effort would have come strained, and she turned away abruptly. She passed through the gates without the aid of one of the two knights ordered to accompany her home. When all had readied themselves for travel, the small band started off, and only when the horses veered to the left down an intersecting road did Jewel look back at her friends once more. Standing haloed in the ironwork of the gates, Dawn and Lynette hugged each other, hands raised to wave at her, and, although they smiled, Jewel could see the tears streaming down their faces. Swallowing the knot of sorrow in her throat, she focused her attention on the direction in which the group hastened.

The sun had risen high overhead and warmed the day, but dark clouds threatened the western sky and foretold the coming of a storm. Jewel prayed they would be able to travel a good distance before stinging droplets of rain forced them to take shelter. Now the sweet smell of moisture hung heavily in the air, for the last of London's dank streets had long since been left behind. Jewel frowned, wondering how many miles they must venture before reaching the monastery where travelers were welcome. Pulling the fur mantle more tightly around her neck, she concentrated on the path her mare trod and filled her thoughts with visions of her home, ignoring the two knights and the young maid sent along to escort her. Peace had reigned in the countryside during Jewel's childhood; it had been a happy time shared with her parents and younger siblings, two sisters and a brother. She smiled absently when she thought of William, a lad of six, who had already made known his desire to become a page and train for knighthood as his sister's betrothed had done. But their mother, Lady Jocelyn, had firmly told the boy he must wait one full year before discussing such a matter, and William had had to be content with imaginary battles fought with his sword made of wood. She often wondered if William had inherited his father's courage, for his blond hair and blue eyes favored the looks of his mother. Even Edwina and Ivy, her sisters who had yet to reach womanhood, were graced with Lady Jocelyn's fair features. Only she had the auburn hair and amber-hued eyes of their father. She sighed, thinking how good it would be to see them again. She had so much to tell them, gifts to give them. It would be a joyous homecoming, overshadowed however; by the news of their king's capture. The fine arch of her brows wrinkled as she thought of Radolf and wondered if her absence had stilled his desire for her or had only strengthened it. She prayed the former, since Amery had returned from the Crusade and might learn of it. Surely it could bring only discord between the half brothers, and she was loathe to be its cause. How unfair this turn of events, she thought. She had always done as her father had asked, honored his word and scorned violence. To be the source of a quarrel weighed heavily on Jewel's mind and she wished somehow she and Amery could wed before the feelings of his half brother were made known.

Of a sudden, a strong gust of wind whipped the mantle from under her knees and startled the mare. Struggling with both the cloak and the horse's reins, Jewel fought to stay upright in the saddle, her heart pounding from the threatening disaster. A scream lodged in her throat when the animal reared, and only the quick, unrelenting seizure of the bridle by one of Jewel's companions brought the steed to compromise.

'"Twould be wise, Lady Jewel," the knight shouted above
the howling wind growing in intensity with each moment,
"that we seek shelter."

"Yea, but where?" she answered as she glanced at the frightened face of the young maiden while clumsily tucking her garment's hem beneath her knees again. "Tis too far to return to London and I fear the monastery lies a fair measure on. My mare is too skittish to attempt too great a journey."

"Then I will ride ahead in haste," the second knight offered, "and find a home and good people who will take us in. You may travel at your leisure and calm the mare until I return."

"Yea, Lady Jewel," the first agreed. "And should the beast object too strongly, I will offer protection from a fall by allowing you to ride with me and letting the mule lag behind us.

Jewel did not answer but lifted her face toward the sky, spying the swirling clouds that spoke of a furious downpour. Again the wind whipped at her garments and tore at the wimple, freeing one coppery curl. "Then begone and set your charger on an errand most urgent, for I fear we are all in for a good soaking."

"Yea, m'lady." The second knight nodded and spun his animal around. The pounding of his horse's hooves as it galloped off was lost amidst the thunder rumbling in the black skies.

"Wouldst thou prefer riding with me, m'lady?"

Jewel, embarrassed at the thought of such close contact with a man whose name she did not even know, shook her head. "Nay, I will hold the reins more tightly and be prepared for the worst just now. But thank you for your concern."

"Yea, m'lady." He nodded, allowing her horse and then her maiden's to take the lead.

They had traveled only a short way down the road lined with a profusion of oaks on both sides when lightning streaked across the sky chased by a piercing volley of thunder. And no sooner had it stilled then another bolt of blinding light divided the black clouds and was followed closely by a deafening roar. Jewel's mare bolted sideways, stumbled, then jerked forward. Clamping onto the reins and a fistful of thick mane, Jewel tried to calm the beast with words, but to no avail, for it seemed the animal pranced more nervously than before. About to admit defeat and beg the aid of the knight who rode behind her, Jewel twisted in the saddle to call out to him just as a glaring splinter of light kinked its way earthward, struck a tree top, sliced its way down the trunk, and severed a huge branch. The mammoth limb crashed to the ground, separating Jewel from her attendant and the knight, and frightening the mare so greatly that she reared frantically, pawed the air, and darted off down the road at a wild pace. The urgent shouts of the knight, helpless to rescue her, went unheard above the thunderous volume and Jewel clung desperately to her mount, for the reins had been torn from her hands. Down the road they raced, spurred on by each crack of thunder, and Jewel was defenseless in halting the mare, unwillingly allowing the animal to run at full gait. Several minutes passed, which seemed an eternity to

Jewel, before the road ahead divided and the mare galloped down the lane to the right, taking a narrow path that twisted and turned and carried her further away from her companions. She wanted to scream, but fear held her breath and she closed her eyes to block out what she knew was about to happen. She could feel each jar of the horse as its hooves pounded against the ground and each muscle tightened, and she wondered who feared more—she or the mare.

As the animal's breath grew labored, Jewel prayed the horse would slow soon. Her legs ached from the awkward position she held, perched precariously as she was on the side saddle. Her fingers loosened their grip in the mane and she leaned forward enough to encircle the beast's neck. But with each long stride the mare took, the powerful head jolted up and down, hitting Jewel's shoulder and sending a sharp pain through her. She spied the reins bouncing j list out of reach and decided she must try to grab them if she was to stop the horse before one or both of them were hurt. She waited for the proud head to lift once more, lunged, and missed. She tried again but failed.

More determined than ever, she twisted a degree, but to her dismay the road took a sharp turn to the right, a direction the mare chose to take just as Jewel reached out a third time. Off balance as she was, Jewel lost her grip when the horse jerked to follow the bend, and she was sent flying from the animal's back to land with a painful thud in the thick underbrush. The cruel impact of her delicate body connecting with the earth knocked Jewel's breath from her and she lay dazed for several minutes until the heavens opened up and assaulted the earth with a shower of cold, chilling raindrops. They struck her face and snapped her back to reality.

Struggling to rise, she touched a hand to her brow, fighting to focus her attention on the road down which the mare had gone. A sudden wave of fear and panic swept over her, for the horse was nowhere to be seen and the rain was increasing in intensity. How far had they traveled? Should she follow her mount or start back toward her companions? Which direction would be the shortest route? Or perhaps would there be shelter a short way down the road, a place she could seek refuge until the storm had subsided?

Her knees trembled once she stood again and she pulled the mantle tighter about her, praying for its warmth. Taking in a deep breath, she looked left, then right, and decided to find her horse or possibly a place to stay. Her escorts would do everything they could to find her and, she mused, with luck, maybe this had been the road the first knight had taken in search of lodgings. Yea, she thought determinedly, only a small journey further on would find him waking there.

A loud crack of thunder sounded overhead, startling Jewel. She had always hated storms such as these when she had been a child, hiding in her chambers, curtains drawn, a pillow clamped over her ears as she sought the comfort of her bed. She had hoped to outgrow her fear and thought she had until now. But as the lightning seared the heavens, the thunder caused the earth to tremble, and the rain blinded her, Jewel could feel her lower lip quiver, tears burn her eyes, and a small whimper of horror tear at her throat. She wanted to run but had no idea where. She had never felt s6 alone, so frightened, and now so cold as the icy droplets of water soaked through her mantle. Even the short boots failed to keep her feet dry, for it appeared that every rut in the road had quickly filled with rain and offered no sound footing. Her head down, she concentrated on her steps and fought to ignore the sounds of the storm that threatened to shatter her will to go on.

She had traveled several hundred yards, her steps becoming more labored as her garments grew heavily soaked with rain, when she glanced up and spotted orange shafts of candlelight in the distance. She blinked, certain she had imagined it, and frantically wiped the runnels of water from her face to get a clearer view. Her heart pounded excitedly, for it had not been an illusion of her prayers but presence of mind, and she smiled, her tears of joy mingling with the moisture on her cheeks.

Lifting the skirts of her mantle and gunna, Jewel started to run, slowly at first, until a clap of thunder echoed in her ears and she broke into full gait, her gaze set on the destination of the gray stone building further on. In her flight, she failed to watch the path her feet were taking and did not notice the large puddle a few steps ahead of her, for if she had, she would have elected to go around it. Instead, she raced straight through and discovered too late that the hole filled with rain was much too deep to allow her easy passage. She stumbled, lost her balance, and fell headlong into the muddy water.

A cry of anguish accompanied the young woman who awkwardly pulled herself from the oozing rut and stood in the center of the road examining the damage done to her garments. Her once-white linen gunna was torn and badly stained, the fox-lined mantle hung limp and matted, and, although she could not see her face, she knew it was streaked with mud. Her chin trembled and she fought desperately not to cry. Not three hours ago she had been in her chambers at the palace sitting before a warm, crackling fire brushing her hair. Absently, she touched a hand to the saturated hood covering the auburn locks. This young damsel standing soaking wet in the middle of a road unchaperoned certainly did not resemble a lady-in-waiting, but rather a serf from Harcourt Castle. To look at her no one would know or believe her if she spoke the contrary, that she was not a runaway slave.

Glancing back up at the dwelling further down the lane, she prayed whoever lived inside would take pity and offer food and a chance to dry herself. Yet something deep within her forewarned of disaster and she hesitated. Should she approach, or wait for her companions to find her? Looking both up and down the road, she fruitlessly hoped to see her mare and jumped at the loud explosion of thunder overhead. A chill shook her whole body and she steeled herself for whatever might await her in the lodgings ahead, for she realized standing in the cold rain would only bring about a fever. With a brave facade,'she lifted the cumbersome skirts and started toward the front door.

As she drew nearer, some of her courage faded, for she saw that the stone building was not the humble dwelling of a monastery but a public inn, a place certain to be filled with men and those women who enjoyed the company of strangers. The thunder roared again and a gust of wind struck her from behind as if the hand of Satan pushed her closer. She turned to set her steps in another direction but noticed the warm glow of dancing light spilling out between the boards of the shutters barred against the storm. The faint smell of burning wood accompanied the sight and Jewel suddenly decided she could deal with anything inside once she was dry and comfortable again. Facing the huge wooden door once more, she squared her shoulders and touched a trembling hand to the latch.