Journey in Time (Knights in Time) (38 page)

BOOK: Journey in Time (Knights in Time)
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What would he do? When she didn't arrive at Hailes, the abbess would send a messenger inquiring after her absence. Alex would assume she got robbed or kidnapped, maybe murdered on the road. What else could he think? He'd imagine the worst and turn the nearby hamlets and countryside upside down.

Valuable time wasted, she thought ruefully. What a horrible irony. Her good intentions will cost him rather than help him.
 

Whether in futile hope, or pathetic desperation, Shakira called Alex's name again and again, as if her cries could penetrate time.

                                                     

 

 

Chapter Forty-Six

 

 

Arms outstretched, Alex tilted his chin to the sky and filled his chest with the frigid air. Immune to the weather’s discomforts, he closed his eyes and pictured Shakira’s face. For one brief moment, he imagined he heard her voice calling his name. He touched the leather pouch tied to his waist and smiled as he picked up the reins and spurred Thor into a gallop. The small sack contained Shakira's golden circlet.

The guards at the gate waved as he passed. He glanced up to the empty window of their chamber where she usually stood. In the far corner of the bailey, Simon and Stephen huddled together. Both yelled to him.

Alex jumped from the saddle and hurried towards the Keep, brushing himself off as he went. Caked mud flaked to the ground as he slapped at his mailed arms to dislodge dirt gathered in the links. It had been a long, arduous seven days. Dusty, tired, and longing to see his wife, he ignored the two knights as they rushed towards him.

"Guy, stop! We must speak with you, 'tis urgent." Simon broke into a jog, Stephen on his heels.

"Later.”

"You must listen now," Simon said, pursuing Alex.

Alex bounded up the stairs and into the chamber, slamming the door with great deliberation in the knight's face.

She wasn’t there. Normally, if she didn't run down to greet him, she awaited him upstairs. From the look of things, she hadn't been in the room for hours. The fire had grown cold, only grey ashes were left. She knew he was due back. Where was she? He laid the pouch on the table, noticing a rolled scroll left on his bolster. The wax seal evidence of its confidential contents.

Alex sighed as his eyes raced over the first few sentences, growing angrier with each line at her idiotic logic and foolish attempt at self-sacrifice. He started to crumple the parchment into a ball. How could she think he wouldn’t come after her or that he was better off without her? He straightened the vellum and reread it. "Where did you go?"
 

Alex, I love you with all my heart and soul. I love you more than words can express. If I had to conjure up a dream man, a man of courage, wit, intellect and honor, it would be you. If I had to put a face to the handsomest man I could imagine, it would be yours. What I can't do is see that man put at risk because of me. I’ve done what I had to do. My heart and prayers are with you that you will get home safe. But if by some misfortune you remain here, the best hope you have for surviving is without me. Please do not look for me. I am in a safe place. God’s speed, my love, my only love.

He rerolled the note and absently tapped his thigh with it. "What place other than with me, would she consider safe?"

There weren’t many places she’d ventured to outside the castle grounds. He came to the logical conclusion without much trouble. Her sudden interest in the abbey made sense now.

"‘An act for the benefit of the locals,’ indeed," he said, disgusted and irritated with her lie. "You remembered my mother lives with the holy sisters and thought you’d do the same." What is it with women? Their twisted minds could put an English maze to shame.
 

He locked her note in the chest and sprinted from the chamber toward the stairs. His recalcitrant wife would be home within the hour even if he had to tie her over his saddle like a sack of flour. "Fool woman."

Simon and Stephen stepped from an adjoining corridor in front of him. His path blocked, they forced him to listen. "I'm in a hurry. Whatever you have to say make it fast."

"Lady Shakira has disappeared," Simon said.

Bewilderment and fear had displaced the knight's usually somber expression. Two emotions never exhibited by Simon in Alex's memory. They fought alongside each other in numerous battles, bloody slaughters. Always Simon maintained an unperturbed façade. What could frighten the implacable man?
 

Stephen stood at Simon’s side eyes fixed in a panic-stricken stare. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.

"What do you mean she's disappeared? What's happened? I told you two to watch her."

"We did. She--just disappeared," Simon repeated. "She v-vanished—"
 

"Right in front of us," Stephen broke in. "We followed her. She bent to pick something up and then...was gone...like the rock reached out and took her." Deathly pale, he added, "As though the devil himself reached up and dragged her down to his underworld." He quickly made the sign of the cross.

“What rock?”
 

"That granite outcropping where we ran into you both a couple of months ago," Simon said.

Hearing she disappeared was like a body blow, hearing where was an iron fist to his gut.

"Why did you let her go? You should have stopped her." He grabbed the front of Simon's tunic in his fists, jerking the knight closer.

The swift action pulled Stephen from his dazed state and he laid a restraining hand on Alex's arm. "Guy."

Alex dropped his hands and took a step back.

Stephen explained, "Simon and I did what you asked. We followed her and kept watch. Our eyes never left her. She simply vanished."

Alex absorbed the statement in silence. One word embedded itself in his psyche. Vanished. A horrible suspicion took shape. "Come, we ride to the rock."

Sweat patches darkened Thor's neck under the pressure of Alex's legs hard on the horse's barrel demanding more speed. At the wide path, Alex slowed to a walk and urged Thor down the slope. The stallion's muscled haunches dipped close to the ground as he lost traction and slid on the damp soil, his rear hooves clipping the shoes of his front hooves. Alex expertly worked the reins. He kept the horse's head tucked, not allowing it to drop and increase the odds of tripping. Moisture misted around Thor’s muzzle in the cold air as he snorted and struggled. The slope flattened into even ground at the base and Alex relaxed the tension on the reins. He circled and waited for Simon and Stephen who eased their horses down the slippery path.

When they came parallel with him, Alex said, "You followed her from the castle, then what?"

"As I told you, we hung back but had her in sight from the moment she left. The only time she was not was when she dismounted and walked the small path to the rock. To avoid discovery, we took this path and concealed ourselves in those shrubs," Simon said and indicated where they'd hidden.

Alex dismounted and checked the rock’s base. The gauntlet was gone. Boot prints, recent and feminine, interspersed with hoof prints left depressions in the soft soil.

     
"Tell me everything she did, every move."

     
Simon and Stephen bracketed him on each side, like metal and mail pillars. "Not much. She walked around the stone. Something on the ground caught her eye and she bent, stumbled against the rock, and vanished."

     
Had she stopped to see if the gauntlet was there when the portal opened and took her back?
The portal opened and took her back.
A bottomless sense of loss swamped him at the realization.

     
At least she was safe.

Again and again, he circled the outcropping without purpose. His friends didn't intrude on the ritual. He didn’t know how much time passed before he knelt and brushed her boot prints away.

I am alone.

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Seven

 

 

In their chamber, Alex occasionally paused to touch one of her personal items scattered around the room. Small things left behind: an oval of polished metal with a jeweled handle she used as a mirror, a bowl of ribbons for her hair, a pair of velvet slippers. In his solitude, he tried to feel her presence through them.

From the trunk, he removed the hanging she’d sewn and ran his fingers over the crooked stitches. He poured another goblet of wine and reread her note. She made up the excuse of his safety. She’d never believe something as silly as her presence putting him at risk.

For the first time since returning from the outcropping, Alex sat. Lost in thought, he drained the goblet. Did she run to the abbey because she loved him and thought he didn’t love her? Did she feel her absence wouldn’t matter to him? He disregarded the possibility. It made no sense.
 
She was too logical. The abbey didn’t fit with the sensible Shakira he knew. Even if she didn’t believe his affection amounted to love, she knew he’d never allow such a thing. He’d come after her and bring her home. Something else was at work. He returned the hanging and note to the trunk and called for Simon and Stephen.

"You asked for us," Simon said and closed the chamber door.

"Yes."

A few steps inside, Stephen stopped. "God's teeth, it’s cold as a witch's tit in here." He blew out a cloudy puff of air. "I can see my breath." He strode toward the fireplace and grabbed a poker from a hook and stirred the ashes. "Why do you not have a fire?"

"You want a fire, build one," Alex replied and poured more wine for himself. "Both of you have served as escorts for Lady Shakira when she's visited Hailes."

Simon nodded.

"Has anything unusual occurred on her journeys, anything at all? Did she ever talk to you about the reasons for her visits?"

"No. I don't speak with your lady, unless she pursues conversation with me," Simon answered.
 

"The last trip was the only time she ever talked with me." Stephen pulled logs from a stack on the hearth and tossed them into the fireplace.

"Go on."

"She asked about the old path and if it led to the outcropping. The one...the one she disappeared from this morning," he added hesitantly. He lit a handful of small pieces of kindling with a candle and laid them under the logs.

"What did you tell her?"

Stephen pivoted toward Alex with a perplexed look. "The truth, of course, I said no one used the path. It was too dangerous, especially in foul weather. I explained the gorse was thick and made it particularly treacherous. If a person tripped and needed aid, they'd go unseen by travelers on the road."

For a long moment, Alex sat quiet as he mulled over the conversation. He couldn't think why she'd be interested in the other path. "Did she ask about anything else?"

Stephen shook his head. "No."

"She never said why she wanted to know?"

"No."

Alex tried to piece the morning's events together in his mind, tried to find a clue to how things happened the way they did. He looked to Simon who looked back with the same sense of puzzlement Alex felt.

"I know she left early,” Alex said. “Cook said she hadn't eaten. How did you know when she planned to go?"

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