Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) (4 page)

Her friends gave her a what-the-hell-took-you-so-long look, but Katherine only shrugged. She decided, then and there, to keep what had just happened to herself for a change. The last thing she needed was her friends to think she should be admitted into the closest psych ward.

It was a beautiful day outside, but Katherine saw none of it, as their little group made its way down to the beach. She refused to go too far from the castle, so they plopped themselves down on the sand with Bamburgh’s shadows surrounding them. They ate their sandwiches with their normal, easy conversation, but something was different. Not with her friends, but with herself. It wasn’t too long before her friends decided to take a walk down the beach. Katherine assured them that she would be fine and just needed some time alone.

She watched them go to enjoy the afternoon, but Katherine could only feel a sense of loss surrounding her heart. She gazed back over her shoulder where the walls of the castle loomed high above her. Pulling her legs close to her chest, she rested her head on her arms and knees. Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of the confusion coursing through her. She gave a weary sigh and felt on the verge of crying.

A sound, almost like thunder, registered in her senses. But even knowing there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, she looked up. Three riders were fast approaching. As they drew closer, she noticed how one raised his hand and stopped to stare in her direction. Startled, her mouth hung open in silence, and she could only surmise she must have fallen asleep. How else, but in a dream, could her knight be riding to her side?

R
iorden raised
his
hand and halted his group’s progress along the beach. They had pushed their steeds hard this morn as they galloped along the strand, but that is not what had caused him to stop their return to Bamburgh. There, against the backdrop of the castle, was the woman who had appeared to him yester eve. The very same woman from his dream, and the one he had seen in both the passageway and the Great Hall. Her clothing was unchanged, but he could not, for the life of him, explain her odd garments.

Aiden came abreast of Riorden’s horse with a question upon his visage. “Is something amiss?”

Riorden quirked his brow, letting out the breath he had been holding. “Do you see the woman there?” he asked, pointing in the direction of the sand dune ahead of them.

He watched as Aiden’s gaze swept the sand, but apparently he saw nothing out of the ordinary; just the ocean, the beach, and the castle looming high above. “I see naught, Riorden, and certainly nary a woman.”

“You will think I am mad when I tell you I see her, but I assure you, I am not.”

“’Tis a ghostie,” Patrick whispered as he began to cross himself to ward off any evil spirits.

“Hush, Patrick,” Aiden told his brother.

Riorden watched as Aiden searched his face, as if to check to see if he were, in truth, a bit mad. He refused to feel ill at ease. So he showed the younger man as normal an appearance as he could muster, to prove he was, indeed, in control of his senses. He nodded to Aiden, who relaxed and leaned back into his saddle to await his orders.

“Stay here,” Riorden commanded, and then kicked his horse forward ’til he came abreast of the woman sitting on the blanket in the sand. His horse reared as if spooked, and he watched the woman rapidly move in fear of being trampled beneath the heavy hooves. She tripped on the blanket she had been sitting on, but quickly regained her footing to stand afore him although ’twas done somewhat shakily. He got control over his steed and slid from the saddle, giving his mount’s neck a calming pat. It seemed placated as it now stood still as stone.

Riorden removed his gauntlets and placed them on the saddle. To say that he was hesitant to come too close to this ghostly apparition, was an understatement. As he drew closer, Riorden tried to conceal his shock when he saw the woman had her oddly shaped hose rolled up, exposing her ankles. As he gazed at her feet peeking through the sand, he backed up, thinking perchance she was plagued with some sort of malady since her toes were oddly colored. Still, he could not take his eyes from her although, in truth, she was but a vague transparent vision and, mayhap, merely a figment of his imagination.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she exclaimed in a hushed, excited tone, more to herself, he thought, than for his ears. “But, you’re dressed differently.”

Riorden’s brow drew together in confusion. Looking down at his attire, he saw nothing out of the ordinary of how he had garbed himself for the past ten years. They were Dristan’s colors, true, but he saw no harm in wearing the garments ’til ordered otherwise by his king. His eyes widened in further disbelief. Although he had seen her mouth moving, her words were not spoken out loud. They came, instead, into his head. He scowled in frustration, thinking he appeared an imbecile. He understood nary of what was going on, but he cared naught for it at all!

“Who are you,” he questioned irritably, “and what is it you want from me, ghost?”

“Ghost? What are you talking about?” she replied. There was just a touch of annoyance in her stance to show she was as affected as he by what was happening to them. “You’re the ghost, not me.”

A forced laugh burst from his lips, and Riorden placed his arms across his chest in an attempt to recover his senses. “’Tis just my luck, I come upon a spirit not of this world, and she does not know her place. Dristan would be most amused.” He looked back towards Aiden and Patrick and heard their nervous laughter. He must look the fool to be standing here alone, talking and laughing to himself.

She cocked her head to one side as if assessing his worth. “Well, I don’t know who this Dristan is, but I assure you, I know where I come from and where I belong.”

“Do you?” he harrumphed. “I think you must be a witch, so be gone and leave me in peace.”

Riorden watched her face fall in sorrow. She appeared as though she was about to cry, if a ghost could possibly shed tears, that is.

“You want me to go away?” she asked quietly, almost in disbelief he would ask such of her. Her lower lip quivered, surprising him that even a wraith could have tenderhearted feelings.

“I do not know why you have appeared to me, but you must return to the afterworld and leave me be. I can only surmise by your strange garments and the way you expose yourself that you were a loose woman. I have no time to assist you with your unfinished business to save your immortal soul. I am here on important matters for the king.”

There was a short catch in her breath. Was his mind playing tricks with him yet again, or did it appear as if she was attempting to memorize his features.

“Even here, across the span of time, I finally find my knight, only to learn his armor has rusted solid, and he has no place for me in his heart.”

“Do not upset yourself, damsel,” Riorden said, offering what limited amount of comfort he could, for he saw the anguish in her eyes from his words. It mattered not he was still distressed that he was observing this specter in front of him, let alone having a conversation with her. He did not like to cause any lady harm, be she ghost or of this world. ’Twas against his knightly vows to protect, against the code of chivalry he had lived his life by.

She continued gazing upon his face ’til she reached out her hand to touch him. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he jerked away. She gave him a sad sort of smile, afore she, too, stepped further back with an apparently irritated stomp of her foot. “Jesus Christ! I can’t believe this,” she swore.

“My lady, I─”

“Ugh!” She all but growled at him, and he was puzzled as to what had caused her outburst, let alone to take the Lord’s name in vain. Turning her back to him, she began muttering beneath her breath. She ran her hand through her tawny colored hair, afore she finally returned her attention to him with a grim expression. Her aquamarine eyes leveled on his face, all but boring into his very soul. “I’ve dreamed of you my entire life, for God’s sake, and now that you’re here, you can barely stand the sight of me. I’m not some kind of freak, you know. You must be here for a reason, or didn’t you think of that? It’s not fair you can be right here in front of me and want nothing to do with me!”

Bitterness dripped from her words, along with a touch of helplessness. Her eyes pleaded with him for some kind of understanding. Something about her made Riorden pause. He wanted to know what troubled her, and why she was lashing out at him. What in her life had made her laugh? What made her cry? Was it just his imagination, or was there some twinge of a memory of her in the far recesses of his mind that was just out of his reach and recollection? He could feel ’twas of much import, so how could he have stupidly forgotten such a grave matter as to remember her possibly being a part of his life?

The odd sensation that she was significant to him lingered on the edges of what little he had left of his intelligence and the odd circumstances in which he found himself. The harder he tried to think of her and why he felt as if he should know her, the harder it became to keep a grasp on the reality that he was conversing with a ghost.
God’s Wounds…get a grip, you fool!

He shook his head at the fanciful notion that briefly crossed his mind. For a moment, he actually had thoughts of wanting to spend more time with her. He must put an end to such nonsense and any thoughts of what was not meant to be. Whatever was plaguing her, or even her reason for appearing to him, he was unable to do much for her other than to pray she would at last find comfort in her afterlife.

“I know not what you speak of, damsel. I wish you no ill will, but I cannot in all good conscience help you save your soul. Only God can forgive you of your sins whilst you were here on earth. You must atone for your sins to Him.”

“You don’t understand…” the ghost began, but Riorden held up his hand to halt any further words.

“Aye, you have that aright. I do not understand any of the past two days, nor do I wish to. I just want my life to return to the hellish circumstances put afore me of late that I must needs attend to. Those, I can comprehend and deal with, but not this...this absurdity with visions of ghosts, playing tricks inside my head. I say this to you again…be gone fair maiden, and may you rest in peace!”

She nodded her head, as if she finally understood his words to leave him be. But ’twas the tears coursing down her cheeks and the look of grief in her eyes that made him realize he had erred in not trying further to help her cause. He took a step forwards, but ’twas too late to offer her what solace he might afford her. He could already feel her slipping from his side.

She slowly backed away from him. “Oh God…I don’t even know your name,” she sobbed across his mind, and was gone.

“Katherine!” Riorden rasped out, for he felt an unfamiliar loneliness creep upon him as she vanished, yet again, afore his eyes. For one brief instant, when he had watched her crying, he had felt a connection to another he never thought would find him again. Her disappearance left him feeling bereft and out of sorts. Confused with his inner thoughts, he could only stand there in a daze. At least, he could tell himself he knew her name.
Merde…what had he done?

K
atherine could only stare
at the vacant space where, but a moment before, stood her knight; arrogant, suspicious knight that he was. She supposed she could not blame him, given the centuries separating them. She gave the briefest of glances down to the sand, hoping against hope she would see some evidence of his footprints, or that of his horse’s. Of course, that wasn’t to be. Although it saddened her, she had seen him with her waking eyes and knew, at some point in time, he existed. She smiled brightly. He had actually called her name, before disappearing from her view. Her heart filled with endless joy, knowing he knew who she was. They were connected. She had known it all along. All she wanted to do now was find out who he was and what part of history he belonged in!

She heard her friends calling out to her, their voices carried on the ocean wind. They hurried up the beach to her side as if something was wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Are you alright?” Juliana asked in concern. “We saw you stumble and fall.”

“Was it a pesky bee?” pried Brianna with a grimace as she swatted at a fly. “I hate bugs; such nasty things.”

“Ugh, and the germs they carry,” Emily added as she reached inside her purse for her ever present bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Ladies, I must ask for your help with a bit of research,” Katherine proposed with a smile. “I know this is our vacation and all, but it’s important. If we could find the local library, I would appreciate anything you could dig up on the castle and its inhabitants over the centuries.”

Katherine was amused as she watched her friends’ facial expressions change from skepticism, to thinking her downright crazy, and then to hope while she told them of her knight. For if there was one thing the four of them were good at, it was research.

Katherine was determined to find out answers of who this man, who continued to haunt her dreams and now her waking hours, was. She must find out his name, right away, before her stay at Bamburgh was over. And time, unfortunately, was not on her side.

T
he amount
of
history behind
Bamburgh Castle, a fortification dating back to 547 AD, was staggering. It was no small wonder Katherine had a major migraine. Her friends had been relentless in their questions to somehow narrow down the time period her knight had lived. Since she could only give the description of the fire breathing dragon on his tabard, there wasn’t much to go by. Even the lion’s head from her dreams had given them no further clue as to who the man was. She was about to throw in the towel and call this a lost cause. Still…something nagged at her to keep on her quest to find her answers.

She stood, stretching her arms above her, and looked down at the bent heads of her sisters of her heart, while they continued perusing various books. She was surprised their pens still held any ink, since they had all been scribbling furiously across pads of paper for hours, or so it seemed. And yet, like the good troopers they were, they continued searching on her behalf. She couldn’t ask for a better bunch of friends.

“You guys are the best, but I think I need a break,” Katherine said quietly, so as not to disturb the other people sitting nearby. “Anyone want to come with me up to the castle?”

Emily rose. “I’ll go. I’d hate for you to use your hands and knees to crawl up some turret just because you felt the need to get to the top. You’d never make it without me.”

“Jewels? Brie? Do you want to come?” Katherine asked.

“You two go ahead. I’m on a roll here,” Brianna said, returning to what she had been reading.

Juliana only mumbled something that sounded as if she’d stay put, too, so Katherine and Emily hopped in the car and drove the short distance up to the car park at Bamburgh. A bus load of tourists were disembarking from their vehicle at the same time they arrived, and Katherine got lost in the rush of mankind. Their conversations became a whirl as they busily talked and bumped into one another to get the best view. All the while, their cameras clicked and flashed. Katherine rolled her eyes.
Tourists!
Even though she was one of them herself, at least she wasn’t obnoxious about it. She was getting tired of people rudely pushing her out of their way.

Emily saw her dilemma, since she could basically see over most people’s heads, and took the lead, grabbing Katherine by the arm and ushering her through the throng of people. She gave Katherine a look that clearly had only one meaning.

“Thanks Em, but I’m afraid I’m not going to be growing taller anytime soon,” Katherine laughed.

“You’re such a short little pan−”.

“Don’t you dare finish that word,” Katherine threatened, only causing Emily to roar aloud with elation.

“Come on, Katie. Let’s see where you take us today.”

To be honest, Katherine wasn’t sure where she wanted to go and had no particular direction in mind. They’d been on the tour already and had seen the archaeological dig that was an ongoing project by the current owners of the castle. And they’d been in the courtyard of the keep where they’d seen several cheerful newlyweds getting married. That, of course, only caused them to mutter to themselves how they hated seeing happy couples everywhere they went.

“Let’s go down to the armory. Maybe something there will pique our interest,” Katherine suggested.

As they made their way to the lower floor, they were surprised to see that, for the most part, they were relatively alone. While they were looking at the detail of a glass encased suit of armor, most likely from the thirteenth century, a door at the far end of the room opened. They watched a man take off his glasses and proceed up the stairs, polishing something in a rag he held in his hand.

Katherine felt as if someone actually gave her a nudge. Her feet started moving in the direction of the partially open door. It was a welcoming invitation if she ever saw one. Looking to the left and then to her right, it appeared no one was bothering to pay much attention to her.

“Come on, Emily,” Katherine whispered as she put her hand on the door knob.

“Are you crazy, Katie? We could get into so much trouble!”

“Shh, Em. I don’t know why, but I’ve got to see what’s inside this room.”

“Geez Katie…we’re going to end up in the gaol and thrown out of the country,” Emily whispered emphatically, through clenched teeth.

Katherine opened the wooden door, expecting to hear an alarm sound off. But there were no bells or whistles ringing loudly to warn of intruders. Peeking inside the room only gave evidence of it being empty of other human beings. Quietly closing the door behind them, Katherine came rapidly to the conclusion the room was climate controlled when she heard the soft buzz of machines sucking the humidity from the air.

They made their way inside and admired the rare treasures before their eyes. It was a veritable goldmine of history at their fingertips. Armor, weaponry, arrowheads, period clothing, historic vases, and dinnerware were all within their reach, if they but cared to touch such rare artifacts, or at least those that were not enclosed in a protective case. They resisted the urge, knowing even one touch from the oil contained in their hands would deteriorate the fragile materials of such historic artifacts.

It was an ever so enticing invitation, but they put their hands in their pockets instead, just in case they couldn’t help but give into the impulse. Temptation surrounded them with every turn they made. As they wandered around the room, they could only stare in speechless wonder at everything their eyes beheld. Katherine gave a sigh of pure pleasure to be able to view such a magnificent collection, most likely too fragile and valuable to be on display for the public.

Reaching the center of the room, she felt compelled to turn to her left. A painting of considerable size rested against a large easel, and Katherine had the notion that the gentleman who had left the chamber was in the process of restoring the artwork. Her feet moved without her even realizing she was walking as she made her way to see what was inside the golden frame. Once she stood before the canvas, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Her breath left her. Her heart surely stopped beating. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she fell upon them onto the cold stone floor. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks in recognition of who was in the portrait.

It was him…standing there with Warkworth Castle in the backdrop. It was the same castle that had reduced her to tears only days ago. The artist, whoever he had been, had captured him to perfection, especially his incredible eyes. Katherine felt that she could drown in those eyes if she were allowed to gaze at him in the flesh. He was dressed as he had been in her dream, with the lion head on his surcoat. He held a sword in front of him, its tip gracing the earth. His hands rested one atop the other on the golden hilt, adorned by a large, sapphire stone that was obviously of some worth. His hair blew gently in the breeze, and one could tell by looking at his expression in this portrait that he had been none too pleased to have had to stand still for its painting. He portrayed enough pure, raw energy to knock her off her feet, and in essence he already had, given that she was kneeling on the floor.

As she continued staring at his portrait, she wondered what in the world he had been staring at, for the look on his face practically scorched her with passion. What had held his interested? Suddenly, the room became exceedingly hot. It seemed as if her knight was actually pulling her through time to be with him.

Katherine…come back to me, my love.

Her eyes widened to once again hear those haunting words inside her head. It was as if he was calling out to her and asking her to do the impossible. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her body began to shake all over. She sensed she was actually standing there next to him, even to the point of feeling the soft breeze ruffling her hair. She felt heat radiating from his body as desire coursed through her, knowing he was within reach.
Merciful heavens, he was close enough to touch.

She watched in vivid fascination when his grin began to widen, and he held out his hand for her to take. Her own fingers began to tingle in anticipation of that very first touch. A gasp escaped her, and she knew a part of her dream was about to become a reality. She blinked, just to clear her vision from the tears threatening to fall down her checks. But that was a mistake, for she ruined everything by doing so.

Suddenly, she became disoriented, when she was unwillingly ripped back to the present as if she was being tossed about in the turbulent whitecaps of the sea. Wavering on her knees, air rushed back into her lungs while a feeling of desolation at what she had lost consumed her.

A high pitched whistle rent the air. “Wow!” Emily declared, just as stunned at what she, too, was witnessing. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t look it. Your face is all pale.”

She couldn’t reply even if she wanted to. Instead, Katherine leaned forward, searching for a name plate, and discovered it was missing. Her legs wobbled when she finally managed to make it to her feet, and she reached out to turn the frame around.

“Don’t touch that,” a man’s voice called sharply, halting her progress.

He came into full view of the room, and Katherine wondered if he had perhaps been watching them for some time. He must have noticed her tears, since he reached into his jacket and proceeded to hand her a handkerchief. She stared at it oddly, thinking to herself,
who carries a hankie with them anymore?

“Thank you,” she said softly, as Emily reached over to steady her.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes, I know. I really have no excuse why we’re here. It’s really not a habit of mine to go barging into rooms I shouldn’t enter. This may sound really crazy, but I felt I just had to come inside, and now I know why,” Katherine said as she returned her gaze to stare at her knight.

“Thought maybe you were out to steal something. That’s generally the case when someone’s caught
pilfering the coffers
, so to speak,” he gave a brief laugh at his own joke. “Names Simon.”

“I’m Katherine, and this is Emily.”

“Pleasure. So...you’re interested in my friend here?” he asked, apparently still leery that they were out to steal an object held in this room.

“Do you know him? You know his name?” Katherine asked, almost pleading with him to share what information he knew.

Simon watched her for a few moments before he gave her a smile. “Yes, of course, I know who he is.” He proceeded to open the cloth he had been holding and went to work re-installing the missing nameplate into the frame.

Katherine stood there, fidgeting and willing Simon to finish his work quickly so she could at last know her knight’s name. It seemed like an eternity before he was satisfied and finally stood. Katherine tried to look around him, but he stayed in front of the portrait, blocking her view.

“You know, I have to ask. What’s so interesting about a twelfth century portrait of a man most people don’t even remember or care about these days? Why would two young American women risk going to jail just to have a glimpse of my friend here?” Simon questioned as he pointed behind him to the painting.

Katherine and Emily both looked to the other, and Emily shrugged her shoulders. “You wouldn’t believe it if we told you,” Katherine said.

“Give me a try. I have a very active imagination.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” Katherine replied honestly.

Simon looked at them both again and shrugged before he turned his attention and stared directly at Katherine, who began to squirm under his intense stare.

“Maybe it will help if I tell you a bit of castle lore,” he began, and, from their silence, he decided to continue. “It’s said, the castle is haunted by several ghosts, who I’m sure you already know about, since it’s pretty much common knowledge. What you may not know, however, is that it’s said a particular knight has been haunting these walls for centuries, searching for a woman he lost,” he explained, pausing in his story to look again at Katherine. Putting his hand to his chin, he continued his examination of her as his eyes raked her from head to toe. “You fit the description, especially given the many women who have come in contact with him over the years with similar looks. There is no proof, of course, they spoke the truth of what they saw. There never is in the case of a ghost.”

Emily pulled the castle brochure out of her purse and scanned it quickly. “There’s nothing here about a knight haunting Bamburgh.”

Simon seemed suddenly ill at ease with Emily’s observation. “Well, we tend to keep that story out of the press as much as possible. Some women have run screaming from the place when they’ve encountered him. He tends to be somewhat ornery that he can’t find her, or so I’ve been told.”

Katherine tried to look around the obnoxious man, but Simon still wouldn’t move out of her way. She sighed and stared him directly in the face. “That can’t be good for business.”

“Precisely why we don’t want to advertise it, not that that hasn’t stopped all the ghost hunters from trying to get actual proof he exists. But still, he has been known to roam the passageways from time to time. It’s obvious he hasn’t as yet found whoever he is looking for.”

“May I?” Katherine whispered. Simon at long last stood aside so she could view the name of the man from her dreams.

She had to admit she had a hard time focusing on the golden metal and had to wipe her eyes several times before it finally came into focus. But there, directly before her vision, were the words she had longed to know, etched lovingly in a beautiful Edwardian script:
Riorden de Deveraux, Earl of Warkworth
. She raised her head heaven bound in gratitude she now at last knew his identity.
Riorden
…his name caressed her mind as if he had touched her himself and in its knowing, she looked into those beautiful blue eyes once more, felt the world spin around her, and promptly passed out cold.