Onyx (21 page)

The aching in his bones had been present since he got here, and now
it was getting even stronger. He knew he had to go see Fenella quickly if he wanted to talk to her about his true family and his past. If he waited, he may never have the opportunity again, and he would never know the truth as long as he lived.

“I’m goin’
te the dungeon te see me mathair,” he said, running a hand over the cat as he spoke. “And when I return we’ll figure out what we can do te help yer mathair as well.”

“Really?” she asked, looking up to him with all the hope in the world in her eyes. “Do you promise, Onyx?”

He reached out his hand and lifted her chin, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek. He would do anything to make this lassie happy, as she was starting to be the only thing that mattered in his cold, cruel, crazy world. He bent forward and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling her softness and her determination as well. She wouldn’t stop trying to help her mother, and now he understood why.

She loved the woma
n. And she loved her son, too. And love made a person do stupid, crazy things, and make promises they knew they couldn’t keep to do things that wouldn’t matter anyway. He looked into her blue eyes and lost himself within them as he thought he glimpsed a spark of her soul.

“I promise,” he said. He grabbed his cloak that had been drying by the fire and put it on and
headed from the room, wondering what the hell just happened and why he’d agreed to something that he knew was only going to be trouble.

“Love,” he said, aloud once he’d left the room, not knowing if he was just saying her name or talking about the odd feeling in his chest that he’d never felt before.

He made his way down to the dungeon, finding it exactly where he thought it’d be. He tried his best to avoid the knights and guards, as since he was a Scot he knew they’d give him trouble. And if so, Lovelle wasn’t with him to tell them he wasn’t sneaking into the castle to kill them, but was rather there as her guest.

He pulled the cloak around him, hiding his tartan and also his weapons. Then he got to the dungeon to
thankfully find it only protected by one guard.

“Who are
you and what do you want?” asked the man, looking like he was feeling ill.

“I am here te see me mathair,” he said, alerting the guard by his burr that he was Scottish.

The man’s hand wavered over his sword, and Onyx just raised his hands over his head. “I’m no’ here to fight, jest to see one o’ the prisoners, thet’s all.”

He looked at him curiously. “Who is your mother and who let you in here?”

“I am here as a guest te the lady o’ the castle, and me mathair is Fenella. I am told ye have her locked inside.”

He didn’t think the guard w
as going to let him in, until Weldon showed up at the door.

“Let him in,” said
Weldon to the other man. “The woman doesn’t have long to live and this may be the last time he sees her.”

“I brought back the book ye asked fer,” said Onyx. “So her life should be spared.”

“Hah!” said the guard. “Why would you think that? Because Lady Lovelle told you what you wanted to hear so you’d do her bidding?”

“But . . . she said me mathair’s sentence would be lighter if I helped y
e te find what ye were lookin’ fer.”

“The book was stolen
by your mother as well,” said Weldon. “She’s not getting any lighter of a sentence, she killed one of the king’s barons. You are a fool if you believe it.”

“Jest let me in already,” he said through gritted teeth, his bones aching with every word.

“Leave your weapons here and the guard will let you in,” ordered Weldon.

“Fine.” He pulled his sw
ord from the scabbard as well as his dagger and laid them on the table next to guard. He didn’t give them the dirk hiding in his boot, but they didn’t need to know about that. He needed something to protect himself with if they should decide to give him trouble.

“All right,” said the first guard unlocking the cell door, “but I don’t know why you want to go in there. They
all have the plague. We’re just waiting for them to die so we can free up the cells. Actually, the gravediggers will be here any minute to collect the dead ones.”

“Ye bastard!” he spat, rushing forward. There was only one torch on the wall, and he had to look into the cells to try to find his mother.

He almost gagged from the smell of feces and urine, not to mention the man in the first cell looked as if he were dead for quite some time now. He slowly made his way forward, already feeling as if he couldn’t breathe, anxious at what he might find.

“Mathair?” he called, “are ye in here?”

He heard several moans from the prisoners and a rat scurried over his feet, startling him. One man banged on the bars just next to his head.

“Let me out,” said the man, and Onyx could see the black spots behind his ear and going down the side of his neck. He stepped away quickly, not wanting the man’s condemned breath upon him.

“Where’s the lassie?” he asked.

“If you mean the woman, she’s down at the end. But I haven’t heard her bitching now in days, so I don’t know if she’s even still alive.”

He hurried to the last cell, seeing his mother inside, lying huddled up on the cold floor.

“Mathair?” he said, but she didn’t answer. He looked back to the door where the guards were stationed and when he knew they weren’t watching, he pulled the dirk from his boot and used it to pick the lock to her cell. He opened it slowly and let himself inside.

“Mathair, what have they done te ye?” He put his hand on her shoulder and gently moved her, and she looked up to him with hollowed eyes, the plague evident on her body. Her limbs were already starting to turn black.

“God’s teeth, nay!” he whispered, feeling the tears welling within his eyes.

“Onyx, ye came fer me,” she said with a slight smile. “I kent ye would.”

“Mathair, I’m goin’ te get ye out of here.” He went to pick her up, but she stopped him.

“Dinna touch me ye fool, or are ye blind? I have the Black Death upon me and ye’ll get it too if ye dinna leave now.”

“I canna
leave ye. Ye are me mathair.”

“Nay,” she said, shaking her head slowly, her eyes closing in the process. “I am no’ yer mathair
, Onyx. I lied te ye all these years.”

Her words were like a stab to his heart. And though he’d already known this, he didn’t want to believe it. But now that she’d told him, he knew it really was true.

“Who are me parents then, Fenella?” he asked, no longer able to call her mother. “Tell me . . . I need te ken what happened.”

“I will tell ye,” she said, her voice weak
and faint, the fever raging within her making her face flushed. “I am dyin’ and this is me last confession.”

If he wasn’t so distraught he might have laughed just then. He knew his mother had never went to ch
urch or confessed a single sin her entire life.

“It was after I poisoned that bastard baron for killin’ me husband. I was spotted pilfering a few things on me way out o’ the castle.”

“Like the ring and the Book of Hours?” he asked.

“Aye, thet’s right. Well, I needed te get back te Scotland and . . .
” she tried to swallow, and Onyx wished he had some mountain magic to give her right now to help ease her pain. “Me only way back was on a ship. I saw a guard tryin’ te pay the captain te take a chest aboard . . . but he wouldn’t.”

“Go on,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted
blood. Never had he thought it would be so hard to hear this story coming from his mother’s lips.

“I took
it fer him, and was told te dump it overboard. I had no idea you were in it, I swear.”

When she said
the words, he felt as if he were trapped in that small box again and having trouble trying to find air. His head was dizzying, and he felt one of his death spells caused from anxiety coming on. He bit his lip and tried to will it away and continued listening to his mother’s confession.

“I was told by the captain
that the earl of Blackpool wanted to dump his baby inte the sea. I was told ye were deid, but when I opened the box, ye were smilin’ at me instead. And ye had thet dagger wit’ ye fer some reason. Thet’s why I named ye Onyx.”

“Why couldna
ye tell me this years ago?” he asked. “Instead ye made me believe I was someone thet I wasna.”

“I saved ye from dying thet day, Onyx and ye should be thankin’ me instead.”

“I am thankful,” he said, seeing the blood now trickling out of not only her buboes, but also the corner of her eyes. Then he realized there were also tears. It was something he had never seen on his mother before. She was actually crying, and he knew now that she was sorry for betraying him.

“I wanted te keep ye as me own, Son.”

“Dinna call me that, please.” His eyes closed in the process and he felt his throat tightening, the air around him getting thinner.

“I wanted te tell ye, many times. But I was afeared ye’d leave me.”

“And what would it matter?” he asked. “After all, I was nothin’ te ye but somethin’ ye’d pilfered.”

“Nay
. Ye were discarded by yer own faither, Onyx. No’ . . . me. And I saved ye becooz . . . ” Her eyes were closing and her head was rolling to the side. He knew these would be the last words he ever heard her speak. “Becooz . . . I . . . love ye.” She died just then, with her eyes wide open and staring at him. Just the way he probably looked every time his little dying spell overcame him. Onyx just stared at her and couldn’t believe this was happening. He put his dirk back into his boot and wiped the tear that escaped his eye.

Anxiety coursed through him, and he knew he had to get out of there fast. He felt the air being choked from his body and his head was starting to spin. But he didn’t want to leave her here like this – in a cell and being thrown onto a cart with other rotten flesh
. He wanted a proper burial for her, not to be dumped into a trench like garbage. Even if she wasn’t his true mother, she was the only mother he’d ever known. She raised him and had taken care of him, and for that he owed her something, no matter how mad at her he was that she’d deceived him all these years.

He reached out to pick up her dead body, no longer caring he was putting himself at risk. Hunkered down
, he cradled her head in his arm. Then he ran his hand over her eyes to close them, knowing this was the last he would ever see her again. The last words off her tongue were something that would stay with him and haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I’ll . . . miss ye
. . . mathair,” he whispered, part of him wanting to say he loved her, but he just couldn’t. He felt something special for her, but he couldn’t love someone who had deceived him for so long. Then, as he tried to pick her up in his arms and stand, all the air seemed to leave the room at once, and his head became light as he slipped from consciousness, and blackness covered the room as he fell back onto the cold stone of the cell floor. He cursed himself that this was happening, that his death spell had to overtake him just now.

“Here’s another two,” said the gravedigger, walking into the cell. “You take the woman and I’ll take the man. Bid the devil, look at his eyes. They send a chill up my spine that he died with them open, and them being two different colors and all.”

“Just hurry,” said the first one. “The guards said they wouldn’t come back to their post til we were done
and not to tarry. And make sure you keep your face and hands covered so you don’t catch the plague when you throw them onto the cart with the others.”

Chapter
16

Lovell
e waited for Onyx to return, but when he was taking too long, she decided to go look for him herself, hoping her guards hadn’t given him any trouble.

“You stay here, Ta
wpie,” she said to the cat, putting on her cloak and heading out the door. She made her way down to the dungeon, meeting the guard at the entrance.

“My lady, you should
n’t be down here,” he said. “’Tis too dangerous.”

“I’m looking for the Scotsman who came down here to see his mother. Is he still here?”

“Nay, I guess he left.”

She noticed
his onyx dagger on the table as well as his sword. “He wouldn’t leave without his weapons,” she said, walking up and peering into the area beyond the barred door where the prisoners were held.

“Well, I let him in, and he’s not here now.”

“Wouldn’t you have seen him go?” she asked.

“I was here the whole time, except I stepped out when the gravediggers came to collect the dead ones.”

“
They
took him,” she heard a man’s voice from one of the cells, and walked closer to the iron grate door.

“
Who took him?” she asked into the darkness.

“The gravediggers took him away with the dead lady.”