Journey in Time (Knights in Time) (37 page)

"I'm sure it will." A wan smile touched her lips.

Alex kissed her one more time. Uneasy, but pressed for time, he left. He made it to the great hall before he remembered his new gauntlets and hurried back for the forgotten gloves.

Shakira sat shivering, curled up on the bench under the window overlooking the bailey. Tears streamed down her face and dripped off her chin.

Alex groaned and rushed over. "Damn it. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, I'm being silly. Now go, please. I’ll be fine. Just concentrate on staying safe."

Frustrated, Alex stood, arms extended out in exasperation. "I don't have the time to coax this out of you. I hate going with you upset like this, but I have to. I'm sorry."

"I know. Really, I'm fine. Now go."

He grabbed his gloves and shot one last look at her stricken face.

Jared had Thor saddled for him in the courtyard. Alex double checked his equipment and supplies and signaled to Simon and Stephen he wanted a word with them.

"Keep an especially watchful eye over Lady Shakira. She's never to be out of the sight of one or both of you when she's not in the Keep." He stared at each in turn and waited for the order to be acknowledged, which they did with a single nod.

Mounting, he glanced up to their window and bade her farewell with a touch of his fingers to his lips and a wave.

How fragile and wraithlike she looked, standing in the embrasure of the tall window. Wind ruffled her hair so it billowed outward like an inky mist around her face and shoulders. She wrapped herself in a plush, blood red robe. At this angle, the voluminous material seemed to dwarf his statuesque wife.

Maybe it would've cheered her to know he'd sent a messenger to London to purchase several bolts of wool and quality linen. The raw material was easier to transport than the bulky dresses. She’d travel with two gowns only, one to wear and one packed. Hopefully, they’d settle in his Portmeirion holding, and she'd have cloth for nice clothes.
 

The fine wire circlet he ordered from the goldsmith in Gloucester would be ready too. The strands twisted to mimic branches with leaves made from tiny drops of white seed pearls. A surprise gift he’d give her when he declared his love.

She was his wife in more than words. Whether they returned to their own time or remained here, she belonged to him. Only death could break their bond. If in this life, fate chose to torment him with the heartache of losing a beloved wife, or at the end of his days, played another cruel trick that made him endure more centuries of painful memories, he’d take the risk for her.

Chapter Forty-Five

Can the hours of a day pass at the speed of light, or faster? "Yes, they can go by in a nanosecond," Shakira whispered. That's what her last days at Elysian Fields felt like, days she filled with as many mundane tasks as possible, anything to keep her tears at bay. Nights were a different problem altogether. Lonely, despairing and adrift emotionally, she slept little.

The morning of the seventh day after his departure, bundled in a grey cloak, she stole off. Eclipse waited, saddled and readied. The stable boy was thrilled with the groat she gave him to secure his oath of secrecy. No task ever earned him four pennies before.

Through the foggy haze, Shakira shot a glance at the Keep before she entered the empty bailey. The knights were in the hall, eating, including her shadows, Simon and Stephen, when she checked. The guards at the gate wouldn’t ask any questions. They'd assume she was headed for the village. She’d made it a point to go every day the past week, establishing a pattern of behavior.

She instructed the servants not to touch anything in the bedchamber. The last thing she needed was for one of the maids to find the note she left Alex. Not that the maids or any of the household staff other than Richard could read. Still, better not to take a chance.

The note took all night to get right. A couple of drafts she ruined. Tear stains smeared the ink across the vellum. In the end, she kept the message succinct and hoped Alex would understand and not rip up the countryside in search of her.

With one last look at the home she shared with the only man she'd ever love, Shakira rode away.

Outside of the walls of the holding, in the open fields, nothing stopped the wind. The bitter cold seeped into all the places the cloak hung loose. Gusts caught the edges of the hood to form a gloomy aura in her peripheral vision. The cape wasn't her warmest, but the plainest. She suspected the abbess planned to fob off a scratchy, poor quality wrap on her under the guise of vow of poverty or some such excuse. If so, Shakira had no intention of making Turcotte a gift of her finest cloak in exchange. Shivering, fumbling to find a handkerchief for her runny nose, she wondered if the loss of the heavier cloak wouldn't have been worth it. Thankfully, her gloves were quality leather or her hands would be raw and chapped by the time she arrived.

When she reached the abbey, she'd give the stable boys instructions to return Eclipse to Elysian Fields.

In no hurry, she kept Eclipse at a comfortable walk. Had she ridden at the canter or gallop, she wouldn’t have heard the hoof beats behind her.
Friend or foe?
Better to assume the worst. She urged Eclipse into a quiet but fast walk off the road. Bent low over his neck, she hid behind a high thicket of gnarled vines and listened.
Silence.
She remained in her hiding spot for a few more minutes, heard nothing, and re-entered the road.
Paranoia.

Before she’d gone fifty yards, she swore she heard the sound of other horses again. How real they seemed. Dispirited, she shook her head, surprised at her mind's ability to conjure up riders. She wondered if it wasn't wishful thinking deep within her subconscious. A feeble hope someone, or something, would intervene and turn events around. On the other hand, if they were real, the riders weren't far behind.

She paused at the mouth of the broad path and eyed the spot ahead where the secondary path met the road. Stephen said the narrow path was too treacherous to use. But, he also said the foliage shielded anyone on it from view.

Shakira vacillated.

Both trails carried risks. The familiar wide one offered a safer path but easy visibility to anyone on the main road. The other offered cover along with a good chance of injury. If she fell and was badly hurt, no one would know. Had the hoof beats she heard been real or imagined? If horsemen were on the road and close, they didn’t come from Elysian Fields. She considered which circumstance presented the worst threat...possible injury, or strangers? Strangers seeing a lone female might confront her. She’d chance a fall rather than chance physical attack.

Shakira trotted to the entrance of the small trail and dismounted. Without a rider, Eclipse would fend better. She kept a loose hold on his reins and took a cautious step. She immediately slid on the soggy leaves, almost landed on her butt. If he slipped, she had just enough room to jump out of his way.

Nervous for both of them, Shakira nattered away. She gave him whispered updates on how far they'd come and how close they were. Relieved to be safely at the bottom, she patted his neck and mumbled thanks to the air. Eclipse whinnied and then snorted a wad of chewed hay onto her shoulder to exhibit his gratitude.

"I'm glad you're with me dear boy, although I could've done without the horse snot," she said low. He whinnied softer as she rubbed his cheek. "Shall we take a gander and see if the gauntlet is there? What do you think, you and me?" Shakira’s tug on his reins met with stubborn equine resistance.

"I see, you want to know why? Just for the hell of it. No other reason. Yes, you're right, coming here doesn't make any difference. Our course is chosen, but let's do peek anyhow." Shakira led Eclipse to the glove’s hidden spot.

Still there
.
A jumble of emotions followed one on top of the other at seeing it, fear, relief, and disappointment, all in varying degrees.

Thunder rumbled. She tightened her grip on the reins and glanced in that direction. A storm brewed in the west, which was odd. Most storms swept down from the north this time of year. She had to hurry if she wanted to beat the bad weather. She turned her attention back to the metal and leather glove, Alex’s small sacrifice. Should she remove the gauntlet? What if he saw it gone and got his hopes up under false pretenses?

The thunder grew louder. The sound didn’t come in booming claps but in a continuous rumbling wave as it rolled her way. Unable to resist a token of his, she snagged the glove.

Sporadic lightning flashed in the cloud cover as she turned to leave. Eclipse stamped and stepped anxiously sideways, like he wanted to bolt. Shakira held firm as he continued his effort to dance away. Resistance became rebellion as he tossed his head and reared back, front hooves pawing the air. It took all her strength to bring him down to a standing position.

She tried to calm the animal with soft words while she stroked his muzzle. Neither worked. Ears pricked, eyes like black saucers, the animal fought her. Then, multiple bursts of lightning, bright and bluish-white, lit the sky. She froze for a split second before she gave a rough jerk on Eclipse’s reins and tried to run. A second flurry of bolts cracked and a brief sense of weightlessness enveloped her. Off balance, she dropped the gauntlet and stumbled against the rock.
 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen step from the bushes.

“Stephen!”

A single deafening crack sounded. Another wave of weightlessness washed over her, she thought she heard his voice faintly call her name.
 

The odd sensation stopped. The gauntlet lay at her feet. Next to her, Eclipse stood quiet, his mane and tail standing on end. She had to swallow numerous times to clear the taste of metallic juiciness away. She took a hesitant step. There was a few clumsy seconds where she wind-milled, beating the air to stay upright when her foot landed lower than expected, throwing her weight forward. She tested her depth perception with the toe of her boot. After several attempts, she finally found solid ground. She’d gone through this once before. Her eyes searched the sky for a hint of red and didn’t see any. Denial came easy. None of this meant what she initially feared, not the lightning, not her physical reactions, not the rush of unseasonable warm air. This could not be a time warp. Not again, not now, not without Alex.
 

“Simon? Stephen?”

No one moved in the shrubs or trees near her. No reason to worry, she reassured herself. Overhead, a dull hum came closer and closer. She looked up. A moment later, the British Airways plane came into view. The jet was headed east toward Heathrow Airport and flew low enough for her to see the colors of the Union Jack painted on the tail section.

"No!" she uttered in disbelief. "No!"

She grabbed the glove and ran to the path. Her grip tight on Eclipse's reins and climbed as fast as she could. The trail had changed, grown wider, less steep. Purple and gold wildflowers grew along the border. At the top, Shakira stopped to observe everything around her. The red and orange leaves left over from fall no longer littered the ground. Bright sunlight poured through the green, leafy trees, and a mild breeze played with the edges of her hood. She mounted and kicked Eclipse into a gallop and rode back to Elysian Fields.

In the past, the horse's speed increased when he smelled home. This time, he kept a steady pace as they approached.

She drew him to an abrupt halt at the edge of the ruin. The curtain wall was rubble, the broken stones scattered. Nothing of the drawbridge remained, only a grassy depression where the moat had been. Shakira pressed her heels into Eclipse’s side, nudging him forward to the area that was the bailey. Gone. Everything was gone, like it never existed. Only the honey-colored foundation stones marked what was the Keep.

She dismounted and stood on the spot the great hall occupied and the staircase to the bedchamber. A flood of images passed through her mind, memories of the first time she rode into the bailey, her fear, the smells, the people, the life she led a short time before. Her life with Alex.