Heart's Magic (29 page)

Gavin still had one arm around Mirielle. He
looked down at Brice, who had bowed his head. Releasing his hold on
Mirielle, Gavin put forth his right hand and lightly cuffed Brice
on the shoulder.

“Arise, Sir Brice,” Gavin said. “Be renewed
in your knighthood and in my service by your confession and your
promise of loyalty. Your faults and your wrong decisions are many
and some of them are still unknown to you. However, believing that
you are at heart an honest man and a truly repentant one, I trust
you will not fail me again.”

“I will not, my lord.” Brice stood with some
difficulty. “Though I have failed you many times, Mirielle has not.
I thank you for your care of her, and I heartily approve of your
decision to send her away from here.”

“Brice.” Mirielle would have gone to him, to
try to offer some comfort for the grief and shame she knew he was
experiencing. Gavin stopped her.

“No, Mirielle,” Gavin said. “Go to Hugh. Tell
him that you and I are in accord. He will understand what you mean.
Do not mention our plan to anyone, nor to Hugh or me when we meet
outside this room. Make whatever preparations for the journey you
can without raising questions. Then follow Hugh’s directions.”

“Will you see us off tomorrow?” she
asked.

“This is our farewell.” He took her right
hand and, as if Brice were not there in the room with them, Gavin
kissed her palm and folded her fingers over the spot where his lips
had touched her skin. “Keep this, for my heart is in it. When we
meet again after Wroxley is free of this malign influence, then I
will ask you to return what I have just given you.”

“Gavin.” Tears stung her eyes. A sob she
refused to utter stopped her voice. One of Gavin’s fingers lay upon
her lips, sealing any words she might have spoken. Putting his arm
around her waist again, he guided her toward the door.

“Fare you well, my love,” he whispered.

The few preparations Mirielle had cautiously
made were almost complete. It was midnight and the children were
all asleep. Hugh had taken Robin into his own room, saying he could
better care for the boy there. Mirielle alone knew Hugh’s actual
reason was his intent to send Robin into a deep sleep, so the
journey to Bardney Abbey would not cause irreparable harm to
Robin’s already damaged health. Hugh would bear Robin to the abbey
in his own arms

Mirielle had one last treasure to pack into
the small bundle that contained both her own personal belongings
and a few items for Emma’s use. She took the crystal sphere out of
her clothes chest, unwrapped it, and held it in the palm of her
left hand. The light from the oil lamp flickered over the polished
surface. Deep inside the sphere, where the tiny inclusion was,
Mirielle could see a faint, silver sparkle when a beam of light
broke on the irregularity.

The change came quickly, as if fog were
spiraling outward from the sparkling light to fill the sphere.
Within the blink of an eye the clear crystal turned milky white. As
Mirielle gazed in rapt attention, flames and dark smoke began to
swirl through the paleness. Mirielle’s hand trembled. She could not
look away, she could only stare at the images inside the
sphere.

Slowly two figures emerged. One was clothed
in shining red robes that matched the flames. The other shape was
taller, broader, and garbed in black. Its outlines were shifting
and blurred, as if it were part of the smoke. This second figure
emitted waves of malice and darkness, along with a cold that
reached beyond the confines of the sphere to penetrate Mirielle’s
hand and travel up her arm to her heart. She could not see the face
of either of the figures, but she thought the one in red had golden
hair.

“Alda?” Mirielle whispered. “Oh, Alda, what
have you done now? And what are you planning to do?”

Even as she spoke the two figures vanished
behind a renewed burst of flame and smoke. As if the malign form
had taken control of the vision, the sphere in Mirielle’s palm
began to change color, growing steadily darker. Here and there a
few flashes of red glimmered and then the sphere went completely
black. Mirielle continued to stare at it. After a while the sphere
returned to its usual clear state. All Mirielle could see in now it
was a brief sparkle of silver light from far inside the
crystal.

“Another mystery,” Mirielle said to herself.
“Who is that dark figure? Is it a demon from the Underworld? Or a
person who resides here at Wroxley? Could it be a person living
outside Wroxley, who has a mystical hold on Alda?”

Knowing she would find no answers in the now
unresponsive crystal, Mirielle took up the silk and rewrapped the
sphere. She tucked it into the bundle containing her personal
possessions. She could not leave the sphere behind, and when she
returned to Wroxley it would come with her.

“Even if it is the only thing I bring back,”
she whispered softly. “For I know what I have to do. If my life is
lost, if the sphere is broken, so be it, but Gavin must be
saved.”

Bardney Abbey was noted for the hospitality
dispensed by the Benedictine monks who lived there. The group from
Wroxley Castle was made welcome by the guest master, who showed
them to the well-appointed guest house and offered free use of the
medicines made by the abbey’s infirmarer.

“For that kindness, I thank you, brother,”
said Hugh. “Your infirmarer may well have knowledge that I lack.
Robin’s case is a peculiar one, though I do assure you, we bring no
contagion into your house.”

It was quickly settled that Hugh and Robin
should occupy one guest cell and Warrick and Bevin another two
doors away, with Mirielle and Emma in the middle cell.

“For safety’s sake,” Hugh said, “though I
cannot think there will be any danger to us in this place. Women
and children may sleep here secure in the knowledge that they are
protected by all that is good and decent.”

There was a dining hall in the guest house,
and there all of them save Robin partook of a generous evening meal
of fish, bread and cheese, a hot vegetable stew, and well-spiced
wine.

Mirielle was seated next to Hugh at one of
the long tables. She could speak to him without fear of being
overheard, for Bevis was entertaining Warrick, Emma, and two
elderly female guests with tales of his travels in the Holy
Land.

“Hugh, I can remain here for only this one
night,” Mirielle said. “I have fulfilled the promise I made to
Gavin, to bring the children to this abbey. Now I must return to
Wroxley.”

“I see.” Hugh had a slight smile on his
lips.

Mirielle had expected him to make some
objection or insist that she stay at Bardney, but he did not. He
merely looked at her as if he had been expecting her to say
something very like the speech she was making, and he let her talk
until she was finished. Hugh’s ability to be silent and listen well
was one of his most attractive qualities. At that moment, when she
was about to suggest something that she knew Gavin would oppose,
Mirielle appreciated Hugh’s discretion.

“I cannot leave Gavin to face that evil
alone,” Mirielle went on. “Brice is too weak in both body and
spirit to be of much help to him, and Captain Oliver, for all his
honest heart and good intentions, will be no match for the dark
strength you and I have sensed at Wroxley. Gavin will need someone
by his side who is acquainted with magic.”

She paused for breath and looked at Hugh, a
little surprised that he still did not protest against her plan.
She was even more surprised when he did not insist that he must be
the one to go and that she should stay behind to nurse Robin and
watch over the other children. That was what most men she knew
would have done. But Hugh was not like most men. He was a mage and
he continued to regard her with that same smile, as if he
understood exactly what was in her heart. And as if he knew what
the outcome of her return to Wroxley would be.

“Say something,” she begged.

“You do realize that you will be endangering
your life, all of your magical abilities, and perhaps your very
soul?” he asked.

“Gavin cannot face that dark strength alone,”
she said. “I will do all I can—give all I have—to help him. The
cost to me scarcely matters, for without Gavin -” She left the
thought unfinished.

“Take Bevis with you,” Hugh advised. “While
he may not be of great help to you or Gavin after you have reached
Wroxley, you will need him on the journey. A woman cannot safely
travel without an escort. Nor is there any reason why Bevis should
sit cooling his heels here at Bardney when these good monks will
gladly perform any service for us that he might do.”

“Thank you, Hugh.” Mirielle touched his hand.
“Thank you for not arguing with me.”

“It is always useless to quarrel with
destiny,” he said.

“I know I need not ask you to guard the
children well.”

“If they are not safe at holy Bardney,” Hugh
said, “then they are not safe anywhere on earth, or even in
heaven.”

“At first, I thought Gavin was the mage,
because he was so cold to me,” Alda said. “I believed he had
learned the ancient secrets while he was in the Holy Land. It
seemed possible. He is remarkably changed from the overly emotional
boy who wed me all those years ago. But now I know the mage was
Hugh. I feel a wonderful change since he has gone. I am growing
stronger. And so are you,” she added to her dark-clothed
Companion.

“At least,” the Companion responded, “you did
not give way to madness this time, as you did during Hugh’s first
visit. You made too many mistakes then, Alda. You have made a few
errors this time, too. For them, you deserve to be punished.”

Alda looked more excited than frightened at
the threat of punishment. She quivered expectantly as her dark
Companion drew nearer.

“I have committed no errors,” she said.
“Donada earned her death by dallying with Brice when she knew he
belonged to me. Killing her was no error on my part, but
well-planned revenge. However, you have made a few mistakes. Shall
I list them?”

“By Donada’s death you have lost Brice to us,
as I warned you would happen,” Alda’s Companion reminded her.

“Brice is a weakling.” Alda’s voice was
scornful.

“He was useful.”

The Companion took another step toward her
and Alda began to speak quickly, nervously. “Even so, we will win.
We two, together. And when Wroxley Castle is ours, we will have the
stronghold we need, the perfect base from which to extend our
power, set directly over the intersection of the magical lines.”
Alda shivered. “It is always so cold when you are near.”

“Is it?” The Companion took one more step and
Alda began to shake violently in response to the cold that was
enveloping her. The Companion’s reaction to the close proximity of
the beautiful, golden-haired woman was of a kind usually associated
with warmth, but when he parted his garments, Alda only shook
harder.

“I see,” she said through chattering teeth,
“that you are ready to punish me. What will it be this time? Will
you -?” She made a suggestive movement.

“Oh, yes,” said the Companion. “Always. And
on this occasion, more than that. Much more.”

Mirielle and Bevis rode hard from Bardney
Abbey but they did not reach Wroxley until after sunset. As they
neared the castle the clouds closed in and it began to rain. They
found the drawbridge up and Mauger the watchman on duty.

“Let us in,” Mirielle cried. “Mauger, you
know we are friends.”

“On Lord Gavin’s order, the castle is barred
to all comers,” Mauger responded. “Lord Gavin says we do not know
who can be trusted.”

“This is ridiculous,” Bevis muttered. Raising
his voice he called, “Mauger, send a messenger to tell Lord Gavin
who is at the gate and let him decide if we should enter or not. Do
it now, man. He will be furious if he discovers you have kept Lady
Mirielle waiting in the rain like this.”

“I care naught for Lady Mirielle,” Mauger
retorted. “She can wait all night and drown in the rain if she’s
fool enough. She was sent away with those three brats and that
demon, Hugh. She should know by now that she’s not wanted here, and
she ought to have the good sense to stay away.”

“Mauger, I order you to let down the
drawbridge at once!” Mirielle commanded.

“Not I, lady. And not anyone under my orders,
either.” With that, Mauger turned his back on them.

Mirielle could see a few men-at-arms on the
battlements, several of whom peered down with open curiosity at
Bevis and herself. She looked from man to man, hoping to discover
someone she knew who might be willing to take to Gavin the message
that Mauger refused to send.

“Sitting here on our horses is a useless
waste of time,” Bevis said. “Mauger won’t let us in and from what I
know of him, when he is relieved he will be sure to tell the new
watchman not to let us in, either. I wonder if I could scale the
wall on the north side where the stone is rough? Or shoot an arrow
into the inner bailey with a note for Gavin attached to it?”

“Perhaps there is an easier means of entry,”
Mirielle said, her eyes still on the figures upon the battlements.
“Bevis, do not shout or make any sign that Mauger might notice, but
tell me if that is your fellow squire, Hidern, standing near the
watch tower.”

“Where?” Bevis squinted, looking along the
wall as if he were trying to discern a way into the castle. “By all
the saints, yes! There he is, standing right by that torch, and
he’s waving to us.”

“Not waving,” Mirielle corrected.
“Signaling.”

“He’s telling us to go away. How dare he
insult us like that?” Bevis cried. “Does he think we are
cowards?”

“I think he imagines that we will use our
wits,” said Mirielle. “Come on, Bevis, we are going to follow
Hidern’s suggestion and leave.”