Knight of Runes (20 page)

Rebeka watched him carefully, surprised how his thoughts blatantly played out on his face and his entire body. His eyes were sharp and piercing. Every nuance of the room met his scrutiny. The fight seemed to be out of him as his shoulders relaxed and calmness replaced the anger on his face. Marcus had told her and Logan that Arik would hear the rumors soon.

She remembered rumors like this in school. They were as damaging now as they were then, maybe more so…now it could be a matter of life or death.

She searched Doward’s face for guidance. He discreetly shook his head and lowered his hand, signaling her to wait and be patient.

“Let’s clear the air. Tell me about this rumor and what you know.”

“Arik, the rumor reached us yesterday. I set out to find its source and strength,” said Marcus.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“While it involved your brother and your guest, the issue doesn’t endanger security. It’s an internal issue and didn’t require your immediate attention. We wanted to do our investigation before we brought it to you.”

Arik’s eyes were still on Letty’s journal. After a few minutes he looked up and addressed Rebeka. “What have you and Logan been doing that could be misunderstood?”

Rebeka was relieved. “As Logan told you, Arik, we’ve spent our evenings translating Leticia’s journal. While I can translate the runes, I don’t know all the meanings. Logan has been helping me. Sometimes we work late into the night to finish a section.”

“And you, Marcus, what is your part here?”

“When I was first made aware of the rumor I did some investigating. It wasn’t hard to follow the trail. Margery Smyth has been going from house to house telling her tale and each time the tale gets bigger and more, well it gets more.” He stared straight at Arik.

“Margery Smyth is a gossip. She only spreads the word. She doesn’t originate it. She’s not that perceptive or creative. Where did it start?” There was silence. Arik banged his hand flat against the table. “Find Margery Smyth,” he told Marcus. “And bring her to me. I don’t care if you have to wake her from her beauty sleep or take her from her husband’s bed.”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus called the guard and gave him his orders.

Arik turned his attention back to the runes Rebeka was working on.

An hour later, the guard returned.

“Captain.” The man saluted. “We found Margery in a stand of trees not far from her cottage. She was partially buried under some leaves and badly wounded. Jeannie saw to her. She is resting easy now back in her own cottage.”

“Wounded!” Arik turned his attention to the guard. “How was she wounded?” His words were clipped and direct.

“She was stabbed and bleeding badly. We were able to get some information from her before she fell unconscious, sir.”

“Tell me what happened. Don’t leave out any details.”

There was silence in the little cottage after the guard left. Arik broke it, turning to Rebeka.

“Tomorrow you will show me what you’ve learned from your research.” He gestured to the journal. “It’s time we put this together. Come back to the library with me now. There’s another book you should see. I don’t want any of these books outside the Manor walls. We’ll work in the library. Doward, Logan, I want you both there, too. Marcus, make certain the area is secure.” The attack on Margery, the rumors, the journals, they were all related somehow, he was sure. But how?

He led the way back to the Manor. Skylar and Aubrey rushed to their uncle, their faces marked with concern, but they calmed down when they saw Rebeka and the others. Katherine stood by the hearth. She took one look at Rebeka and went white with fury. “How dare you let her into my house!” she screeched, he voice echoing in the hall. “Shouldn’t she be in chains, Lord Arik? She has defiled your brother and damaged your good name. Yet you still protect her? Throw her out and let everyone witness her disgrace! Better yet stone her, kill her!” She spat out the words.

Arik ignored Katherine’s outburst. He turned instead to Jeannie and gave her instructions. She soon returned with tankards of ale. Arik took one and addressed Katherine.

“What is it that Rebeka has done?”

Her head snapped to face him. “What has she done? You saw her with Logan.” She took a large gulp of ale he offered her.

“If I believed every rumor I’ve been told, Katherine, I would be killing a good many people. And what I saw was three people reading a book.” He looked at Katherine over the rim of his tankard. He noticed her hand shaking as she stretched out her tankard to Jeannie, silently demanding more.

“What’s she doing here in my house? I want her out and gone! I’ve had enough of her! I’ll not have her tarnish the girls.”

People lost control of their tongues when they ranted and raved. Sometimes they even hung themselves. Arik gave her more rope.

“We’re certain she’s done nothing. Marcus has investigated and found the source of this false rumor.” He watched Katherine closely.

“It’s false?” A surprised expression washed over her face. “Are you certain, Lord Arik?”

Her ranting died down but the rage was still there. It was evident from the wild look in her eyes.

“Yes, Katherine. We know who spread the rumor. More ale?” Logan asked, sounding exactly like his brother.

She glanced at Logan as he refilled her tankard. “Who would spread such a lie? She must be evil indeed. What do you intend to do to her?”

“A good question, Katherine. What would you suggest for such a crime?”

“Beat the old hag,” she said. She took another gulp from the tankard. A rivulet of ale trickled down her chin.

“Katherine, how did you know the rumor was started by a woman? No one mentioned it was a woman.”

“Men don’t start rumors. It is a woman’s failing, not a man’s.” Arik observed her smoothing her gown, trying to hide her nervousness. She couldn’t keep her hands still

He moved closer. His eyes bore into hers. Her eyes still looked wild, the lingering effects of the ale. His hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned into her, his face inches from hers. “We found the old hag, Katherine.”

She flinched. Her gaze darted around at the others, searching their faces for any information.

“But she was not the only person involved.” Arik’s gaze drilled into her. He stepped away.

“I’m certain her punishment will be a lesson for others.”

Arik straightened and turned to Rebeka. “You’ll move back into the Manor at once.”

“I’ll not have her in my house!” Katherine flew out of her chair, darted around Arik and reached for Rebeka with clawlike hands.

Logan stepped in front of Rebeka, and Arik caught Katherine, grabbing her outstretched hands before she got very far. Marcus called the guards to restrain her.

There was menace in Arik’s tone. “This is not your house. It’s my house. The only influence you have here is what I decide to give you. You’re nothing here. You’re here by my good graces. Do you understand?”

He ignored the gasp that came from Rebeka.

Katherine’s hand fluttered to her throat and back to her lap. Her back straightened even more, her shoulder squared searching for some semblance of dignity. “Yes, Lord Arik. I am aware of your generosity. I have worked hard since your sister’s death to bring order…” Her voice trailed off.

“Katherine, where is your chatelaine?”

Her hands flew to her neck. “I misplaced it yesterday and have been searching for it everywhere.”

Arik took the chatelaine chain out of his pocket. “It seems it’s been found.”

“I’m glad to have it back.” She reached for the chain. “Where did you find it?” she asked coolly.

Arik quickly pulled it out of her reach. “Jeannie,” he called.

“Yes, m’lord?”

“Where did you get the wine for the midday meal today?” he asked the maid, not taking his eyes off Katherine.

“From the wine cellar, m’lord.”

Katherine thought about the afternoon’s events. The old hag had made stupid demands and they had argued. She wanted coin for planting Katherine’s tidbits of information in anyone’s ear who would listen. What would the woman do with coin? How Margery went on and on, speaking to Katherine as an equal.

She took out her knife and stabbed the woman to stop her carping. But it was Rebeka’s face she saw.

It wasn’t until she got back to the Manor that she realized the chain was missing. She was on her way to retrieve it when she’d met Arik. When he’d asked about Logan’s whereabouts, she had been too eager to witness Arik’s despair, and had stayed to see what happened.

She glimpsed at the men around her, trying to look small, lost and pitiful. She stared out at Rebeka from curtained lashes, hating her for not being on the receiving end of her blade.

She must have lost the chain when she bent down to drag Margery into the grove. The woman surprised her. Margery had grabbed at her, fighting like a tiger until she finally collapsed.

When she heard voices approaching Katherine had panicked, throwing leaves over the woman before making her escape. All she had thought about was getting away.

A hideous laugh echoed in her head. She put her hands to her ears and tried to stop the sound. She flinched when Logan touched her and pried her hands away from her ears. The voice was hers.

“How did you get into the wine cellar today, Jeannie?” Arik’s eyes were still on Katherine.

“M’lord, Lady Katherine took the key off her chatelaine and gave it to me. I returned the key to her when I was done.”

Arik nodded to the captain. Marcus unceremoniously held Katherine and pulled off the lacy shawl she wore to conceal the deep cuts around her throat. The chain from the chatelaine had dug deeply when Margery ripped it from her neck.

“You’ll be happy to know your chatelaine was found, Katherine. It was in the hand of the ‘old’ hag.”

Sudden anger lit Katherine’s eyes.

“Marcus, take Lady Katherine to her room and bar the door. Place a guard outside.” There was no emotion in Arik’s voice. “Look at me, Katherine.”

Her head spun to face him at his command.

He threw the words at her like stones. “Because you’re family, I will let them deal with you for assaulting Margery, and for your intolerable treatment of the girls, Aubrey in particular. Tomorrow you’ll go back to your family home. You can take the things you brought and nothing else. The guards who brought you will take you back. And, Katherine, you’re never to come here again, on pain of death. Do I make myself clear?”

“Lady Katherine, this way.” Marcus and his men took her arm. She wrenched it away and walked defiantly up the stairs.

“Perhaps you should put her in the dungeon.”

“No, Logan, not there. The dungeon is not fit for beasts,” said Arik.

Rebeka spoke privately to Arik, casting her voice low. “You believed the rumor, didn’t you?”

“Only for the barest of moments.”

“I don’t understand her motives.”

“Surely you’ve encountered women at court who are jealous of you.”

Uncomfortable, she looked away and took a long drink from the tankard of ale she still held. “I don’t attend court. I’m more comfortable with books and research.” She turned, attempting to lighten the conversation. “
They
don’t have any feelings one way or the other. My feelings are elsewhere.”

“There is no one at court of any interest to you?”

She drank the last of her ale. “I assure you, no one in court even knows that I’m alive.” She put the emptied tankard on the table and left the room.

The intense rush of early morning activity in the courtyard made quick work of the packing. The four guards, who brought Katherine to Fayne Manor all those years ago, worked silently packing her boxes in the coach in preparation to leave. Only Arik, Logan and Jeannie stood by to see her off.

She stood at the head of the staircase and looked down, her eyes burning with hate.
They will pay for this, both of them.
She straightened her spine, pulled down her pelisse and with a deep breath sailed down the stairs. She ignored the proffered basket of food from Jeannie and motioned to one of the men to take it. With her head held high, she fled out the door without looking back.

“M’lady, your luggage has been stowed. We’re ready,” said Hugo. Without a word, the guard handed her up into the coach.

Arik, his face hard, leaned in the window. “Farewell, Katherine.” He didn’t wait for her to respond, but signaled the driver to be off and stood back from the coach as it left the grounds. Leaving the Manor behind, the coach wound its way down the long drive and turned onto the road. Katherine muttered to herself. “Where did I go wrong? Rebeka should be in this coach, not me! Hugo!” she called out.

“Yes, Katherine.” He rode up to the coach window.

“When we’re off the Manor grounds, bring the coach to a halt. We have some work to do.”

Hugo smiled. “That should take a very long time. I think I’ll spend some of it comfortably in your coach.” He climbed off his horse and in through the window, landing gracefully next to her.

Katherine smiled. Hugo was so…playful. He knew how to take the edge off her moods. He always had a trick or two. She smiled remembering how he attended her often in her room telling everyone he had a message from her family, or coming to her when the house quieted for the night and everyone was asleep. “Hugo, not here in the coach,” she demurred, her hand at her throat.

He let loose a ribald laugh and she saw his eyes darken and the pulse in his throat quicken. Not waiting, he simply pushed her back, tossed up her skirts and took her forcefully.

She welcomed his vulgarity. It matched her mood.

“I should punish you for not seeing to my needs.” The playfulness had gone from his tone. His release was quick and when he was done, he withdrew. He plucked the handkerchief from her bosom, cleaned himself and threw the cloth on the coach floor.

He knew she didn’t find her release. “Your punishment,” he told her. “Maybe later. Now you can wait.” He spit the words out and snarled at her with dark cold eyes. “You are a diversion on this campaign, a gift to me from Bran, your master. Now, away from the Manor, I can take my rightful place, and put you in yours. How clever of the master to turn you into his tool. The great Lord Arik never suspected you would betray him.”

Katherine gasped at his fearsome sneer. Shaken by his vehemence, her hands shook as she tried to steady herself.

He tapped the coach for the driver to stop, laughed when he left her and got back on his horse. “Katherine, you will remember I’m the leader of this little venture, not you. If I were you, I would start to ponder what you’ll tell Bran. You didn’t exactly fulfill your end of the bargain and he has no patience for failure.” He absently rubbed the whip marks on his chest. “Think on that.” He turned to the driver. “Drive on,” he ordered the coachman, “and take your time.”

The coach stopped at Oak Meadow. One of the men filled the water bags while the others met near the tree.

Katherine stomped over to the men. “Did you send the note? Did you leave Leticia’s amulet for them to find? I know Rebeka was here this morning, I saw her ride out with the men as we were leaving. You did hide Leticia’s amulet here?”

She changed her tone as Hugo approached, honeyed her voice. “You were clever to suggest it. Arik already suspects foul play in Leticia’s death. You’re certain they will come here to search?”

Hugo grabbed and twisted her arm. “Katherine,” he said sweetly. “We’re no longer at the Manor. Do you understand? How quickly you forget.” He twisted her arm a bit more to hold her attention.

She stared at him confused. He had always deferred to her, taken orders from her.

“Ah, I see you’re beginning to understand. Good.” He released her arm and pushed her out of his sight.

She stumbled and caught herself against the tree. She grabbed her arm, rubbing it to soothe the pain. Terror filled her eyes.
I’ll get no help from him. He’s just as much a threat to me as Bran. I’ll show him, I’ll show them all. There’s only one path to redemption. I have to kill Arik and the rest of his family, and most of all, I have to kill Rebeka. I’ll have to kill them all.

Rebeka’s gaze landed on Arik as he entered the library. She was already busy at work organizing her papers. Logan had brought the books from the cottage and she set the last of them on the table. Doward plucked the top sheet off the neatly stacked papers and started to read her findings. Marcus and his men, stationed on the terrace, guarded the doors. Everyone was ready, but was she?

“Where do we start?” Logan, his hands splayed on the table, scanned the stacks of papers and books.

“At the beginning. I’ll tell you what I know.” This was nothing more than a report to the research committee she told herself, except with so much more at stake here. She searched each face. They waited for her to give them answers, almost like her students.
What if I don’t have the answers?
She bit her lower lip, her brows wrinkled.
We’ll face that later if we have to.
She took a deep breath and began.

“I planned to review all the documents for the past six or seven years. But I found references to the land as far back as the king’s visit in 1588.”

Arik, who had been reading one of the papers, took a quick intake of breath and slowly raised his head staring at her. He immediately covered his alarmed expression with a nondescript yawn.

“I’m surprised you found such old references. Were they about normal conditions or were they, hmm, were they strange?” asked Doward.

“They mentioned unseasonable weather but no details. I also found several maps. Each defined a different area.” She pulled out a stack of maps. “Each has similar markings with dates.”

Logan scanned some of the maps. “This one is in Letty’s hand.” He showed it to Arik. “There is something else written here too.”

“I’m getting to that,” Rebeka continued. “I went to see some of the places where the lightning hit to observe the land and the area around the strike. I found the land hard-packed, very dense. Too dense to soak up any water—it would run off. In some cases, the plants had their energy sucked out of them, not really withered as I first thought. Doward and I observed the same phenomenon when we examined the clearing after we first met.

“After interviewing Drago yesterday, he suggested I investigate the strike by the willow. When the patrol went out there this morning, I went with them.” Her eyes went from one to the other.

“What else did you find?” Arik encouraged her to go on.

“At each of the strike areas I noticed there were charred crumbled stones. The lightning must have struck them. I brought back a few samples.” She took a small package out of a basket under the table. Having gone on a number of archaeological field trips, she recognized the value of recording and conserving artifacts. While she knew the standard three-dimensional approach—descriptions, drawings and photographs—she settled for descriptions and drawings. She wrapped each stone in a cloth and included a note with its original location. She even included a drawing of the stone’s position at the site. “In order to identify which sample goes with which lightning strike I’ve used the marking on the map to correspond with the sample. Those are the strange markings Logan mentioned before.”

Doward picked up one of the samples and the accompanying information. “Well done, Rebeka.”

Arik sat forward in his chair, took a sample out of the basket and examined it. “Yes, good work.”

Encouraged by their praise, she went on. “There is mention in the family records of unseasonal weather, of a poor harvest as well as sudden storms. These occurrences happened on occasion but within the last five years have increased at an alarming rate. However, the family records had nothing more than weather reports. I thought there might be more information in Leticia’s writings, more personal observations.”

“Why?” Arik asked with a sense of hesitancy in his voice.

Rebeka stood at the terrace door. “Jeannie told me the first day I arrived that Leticia protected the land, that she was the keeper of the land. It made sense to me she might have written more information than what I found in the family papers.”

Arik nodded agreement and waved his hand for her to continue.

“I found details of each lightning strike and pieces of runes and formulas. They’re different from what I found in Leticia’s journal. I began to translate…”

Arik sat up straight. “What?” he demanded. “You can read them? That’s impossible.”

Startled by his outburst, Rebeka stayed calm. “I’ve been able to read them since I was a child. My father taught me.” She waited for them to absorb the information and saw the questions on their faces. “My father was a scholar of Celtic mythology. He insisted I learn to read the runes. When I studied runes in the university I realized the ones he taught me were…” she searched for the right word, “…well they weren’t like any other runes. I always thought he made them up, a game. It surprised me to find some of his runes in Leticia’s journal.”

“Let me see them,” said Arik.

Rebeka gave him the opened journal, the page filled with runes and odd markings. “Here. Arik, do you know what these are?”

Arik glanced at the journal for only a few short seconds.

“These are formulas, fragments of a spell.” His face was deadly serious, his brows drawn together. He got up ready to leave.

“Anything else?” Arik asked Rebeka.

“No, but I’ll continue my research.” Surprised that he abruptly ended the meeting, she tried to figure out what went wrong. “This evening I’ll continue to translate the runes and formulas and see if I can make some sense of them.”

There was so much she didn’t understand. “What type of spells?” she asked Arik.

He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the rock samples on the table. “It’s hard to say with only fragments. While you do your research I’ll do mine” He paused. “I’ve another book for you. We’ll speak of it later.” He and Logan left the library.

Rebeka turned to Doward. “Before you go, I must speak to you.”

“Come. We can talk privately at the lake. I have some time before I leave for Autumn Chase.”

They set off down the path.

“What is troubling you?”

“I’ve made little progress in finding the way back.”

They came to the lake’s edge and stood in silence.

“Doward, do you think Arik’s spells, his magic, can help me go back?” She kept her eyes on the water, her heart beating faster at the thought of going back. After all her agonizing, did she really want to leave?

“I thought you didn’t believe in magic?” He smiled at her profile.

“Well,” she said turning to face him. “While I intellectually don’t believe, how else did I get here? Perhaps magic has been the answer all along.”

Arik went to the tower. He paced the small room. He could think better here, the place where he learned the runes and the formulas, and the place where he closed his mind to the magic. He could feel Letty’s presence. None of his magic, and it was a considerable amount, had saved her. Even though she had forgiven him, here in this room while she lay dying, he never forgave himself.

He would fight with his mind and his might, not his magic. His magic was worthless. He had given it up…he remembered the ritual clearly.

“Lord Arik, are you certain you want to do this?” The ancient priest, Emrys, stood with him. “Your grief speaks. It will pass.”

“How can I call myself the Grand Druid if I couldn’t protect or save my sister? I pledged to protect her. It’s only because Logan is too young to take on guardianship of Letty’s daughters and run the Manor that I don’t forfeit my own life. No, I want no more of this magic. Take it from me. Let it be my final command.

“Perhaps you didn’t choose wisely when you made me the Grand Druid. I should never have let the king talk me into being her protector. I should have gone after my betrothed. Perhaps Bran would have been a better choice for you.”

“Nay, Bran is corrupt and will always be corrupt. Even if we didn’t choose you as Grand Druid, the Council would never choose him. Come, Lord Arik, you are distraught and cannot think clearly.”

“No, my mind is made up.”

With a heavy sigh, the old priest nodded. “Very well, Lord Arik.” He proceeded with the ceremony in the tower room.

“Lord Arik, stand in the center of the pentagram.”

Arik took his place and faced the hearth.

“I call the four forces. Earth.” He chalked a formula at one of the pentagram points. “Fire.” He chalked another formula on another pentagram point. “Wind.” He placed a third formula on the pentagram and finally, “Water.” He completed the chalk markings. He gave Arik one last chance but Arik stood resolute in the center of the pentagram in a loincloth. He was determined to be no more than an ordinary man.

Emrys took his place on the last point of the pentagram and began to chant. The ritual proceeded. One by one, the runes on Arik’s body began to fade but they did not fully disappear. Finally, the fire in the hearth and chalk markings on the floor flared and died. The ritual was over. The old priest covered Arik with a cloak and helped him to a chair.

“Rest, Lord Arik, the process will take time and you will be tired.”

“Many thanks.”

“We will see.” The old priest gave him a gentle smile.

Alerted by the priest’s tone, Arik threw off the cloak and rushed to the mirror. He saw the runes were only faded. “What have you done?”