Forbidden Magic (34 page)

* * *

Looking out over the long rows of oars cutting into the water in perfect harmony to guide the galley ship toward the Isle of Wight, Ian chuckled at his cleverness and the irony that found him dressed in the robes of a monk. Beside him on the floor sat a wooden trunk bearing what he claimed was a change of clothes, a Bible, and gifts for the lord and lady of Burchard, while in truth it held his armor and sword. He had wasted nearly a week endeavoring to secure passage to the island, for the place was well guarded against strangers who merely wished to view the countryside. Then one night at an inn in a town called Portsmouth, while he sat imbibing a generous amount of ale in the hope of drowning his guilt, it came to him. When all of Harcourt had been surrounded by knights of Lady Edlyn's, how had Amery managed to steal inside unnoticed? And if it had worked so easily for him. .. . Now, all that was left was to find a method by which he could trap Lady Jewel alone.

* * *

"Radolf, methinks our steeds churn the ground uselessly," Kennard said, disgruntled. "We have searched the monasteries far and wide, and still we have not found a clue. More than a week has passed. Amery has flown to some distant corner where we will not know to look."

Radolf's brows came together in an angry frown and he gripped his horse's reins more tightly to suppress his ire. "If thou tirest of our journey, cousin, then set thy charger on the road to Wellington. But lam determined to continue I will not rest until Jewel is safe."

"But Amery will not harm her," Kennard argued. "He took her only as a warning.. . the serving maid delivered his message."

" 'Tis what he spoke," Radolf barked, "but 'twas not his only reason. He knew I would not send an army to hunt him down and endanger Jewel."

Kennard raised a skeptical brow. "Perhaps he bargained thou wouldst do just as thou art."

Amber eyes snapped with fury when Radolf turned his gaze on the man at his side. "Which is?"

Shrugging, Kennard shifted in the saddle and stared at the road ahead of them. "That thou wouldst come alone looking for her and meet his trap. Tis you he wants . .. not Jewel."

"Then, prithee, why has he disappeared without a sign to guide us? If it is indeed a trap, how will I find him if he does not show me the way?"

"He is no fool, this half brother of yours, Radolf," Kennard went on. "He wouldst have you chasing shadows for a time, then dangle a thread before your nose. We must play with caution if we are to be victorious."

"And I grow tired of your ranting," Radolf replied, looking back to the road once more.

Kennard's own face wrinkled with his frown, for he wanted to further warn his cousin but knew the uselessness of it. Radolf was determined to search for Lady Jewel at any cost.

The sun had risen an hour before, but a gray fog clung heavily to the trees and shrubs, curling and floating across the path the knights took. In the near distance pale shafts of light could be seen and Radolf nudged his horse on in hopeful anticipation. They had inquired at so many monasteries and the answer had always been the same—no one had seen Lady Jewel or the men who had abducted her. Amery and his companion would have had to have gotten their disguises from one of these holy sanctuaries and Radolf was positive that if they looked long enough, they would find those who had helped. Nostrils flaring slightly, he ground his teeth as he concentrated on the arched entry way to the abbey. For as long as he could remember, he had hated his half brother. Being Lord Ryland's youngest son, he had never been first in doing anything, and even though his father had seemed to care a great deal about him, Radolf had always sensed the man favored his eldest son. And when the announcement was made that Amery would marry Jewel—the one person who truly mattered to Radolf—the young man vowed revenge. Then his mother had suggested the perfect plan—a way to rid them of Amery and gain the lands of their neighbors. Only Radolf had not totally agreed with the scheme. He would murder those at Harcourt and lay the blame on his half brother, but Jewel would be his!

Jerking his steed to a halt before the cloister, he dismounted and carelessly looped the horse's reins around the spear point of the iron fence beside him. Not bothering to wait for his cousin, he hastened down the path that led to the main door of the monastery and knocked loudly. Several moments passed before he heard the sound of footsteps from inside, and he turned back to wave at his cousin to hurry. Kennard had just reached him when the heavy door creaked open and they were greeted by a monk with a somewhat anxious expression on his face and the chanting of deep, rich voices in the distance.

"Excuse us, Brother," Radolf said before the man had had a chance to speak, "but we have journeyed far in search of someone. Perhaps thou canst assist in our quest. I am known as Sir—"

The friar's eyes widened all the more and before Radolf could finish, the man hastily moved to shut them out.

"Hold!" Radolf exploded, for his temper had been sorely tested in the past several days and no one had ever dared close a door in his face before. With lightning speed he thrust his hand outward to stop the execution of the friar's plan, then leaned las weight against it and pushed the door wide. "We have not come to rob you, fool. Thou hast little we would want. 'Tis only answers we seek. I am Sir Radolf, lord of Wellington."

His hands clutched as if in silent prayer, the friar bowed nervously before him, unable to bring his gaze upon the huge knights who filled the framework of the doorway. "Forgive me, Lord Radolf," he mumbled uneasily, "but tragedy has befallen this humble place and the one responsible vowed the same as you. We are now leery of strangers who hide beneath titles."

Radolf's frown deepened. "I do not understand. What is the
tragedy of which you speak? And who has claimed the same as
I?"

"This morn we found two of our brothers dead. They had been murdered and we could only assume by the knight who had come here last eve, for their wounds had been skillfully inflicted. He too was in search of someone and sought only answers. To hear thee pledge the same ..."

"Dost thou know for whom he searched?" Radolf interrupted, an eerie chill, coursing through him.

"Nay, Lord Radolf. All but one of us were abed and even he did not talk with the knight."

"What art thou thinking, cousin?" Kennard asked, for he had shared the same odd feeling with Radolf.

"That this knight's journey is the same as ours," Radolf answered quietly, then turned hack to look at the friar. "Mayhap someone saw this evil visitor."

"Nay, Lord Radolf, only Brother Paul and Brother John, and they are dead," he replied softly as he made the sign of the cross. "But Brother Luke heard them talking before they went to speak with the knight. Brother Paul said the man had an awful scar that disfigured his mouth and made it difficult for him to talk clearly."

Radolf's frown faded with his surprise as he looked from the friar to his cousin and back again. "Art thou certain?"

"Yea, Lord Radolf." The friar nodded. "Dost thou know this knight?"

"Dear God, Radolf," Kennard moaned. "Tis—"

"Yea, cousin," Radolf sneered, turning from the doorway and starting back toward their steeds. '"Tis Ian.. . my mother's loyal knight."

"But why?" Kennard asked, hurrying to stay at Radolf's side as they marched down the narrow path. "If he only searched for your half brother, why would he murder the friars?"

" 'Tis not Amery he wants but Lady Jewel. And he was forced to kill the friars so we would not learn what he now knows— the name of Amery's friend. He has made it impossible for us to find her before he does."

"I still do not understand," Kennard said, shaking his head as he unfastened the reins of his destrier and swung up into the saddle. "What doth he want with Lady Jewel?"

"To kill her," Radolf growled, hooking a toe in the stirrup and agilely pulling himself up across the wide back of his steed.

"Lady Jewel?" Kennard gasped. "What hath she done that he would wish her dead?"

"Hot Ian, cousin," Radolf hissed, yanking back on the reins to spin his horse around toward the road. "My mother."

"Lady Edlyn?" Kennard half laughed in surprise. "She has sent Ian after Lady Jewel?"

"Yea, Kennard, she has," Radolf answered, his face hardened with his hatred.

"But you spoke with her and explained your intent to marry Lady Jewel. You told me she had softened when you said it would be no other way."

Radolf's amber eyes darkened as he stared blankly ahead. "Yea, 'twas what she wanted me to believe."

Kennard studied his cousin for a moment, seeing the rage that boiled within him flare his nostrils and tighten the muscles of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "What wilt thou do, Radolf?" he asked quietly.

Taking in a long breath, Radolf let it out in a rush, his worry for Jewel's safety drooping his shoulders. "I will pray that my half brother guards her well, cousin; that his blade is swifter and stronger than Ian's. And I will make a promise to my deceitful mother."

"A promise?"

"Yea. If Jewel is harmed, my mother will pay the price." He fell silent for a moment, then turned a half smile on the man at his side. "And now we shall go to the lady of Wellington and tell her of it." Jerking hard on the reins, he set his horse on the road, his ominous laughter echoing through the stillness of the forest.

* * *

"That will be all, Leta," Lady Edlyn advised as she sat quietly before the hearth in her room watching the young serving girl's slender form move toward the door.

Leta paused once she reached it, turned back to present her mistress with a slight curtsy, eyes averted, then quickly exited the room.

The thin line of Edlyn's brow lifted as she recalled the stiff moves of the girl, knowing the lashing she had received still plagued her. She would have killed Leta if Ian had not stopped her, for Edlyn blamed Leta for the fact that Jewel still lived. She felt certain that if Leta had gone to Radolf the moment Amery had taken Jewel and had told him of Amery's presence, Amery would have killed Jewel before allowing Radolf to have her. And she would not be sitting here now wondering if Ian had been successful in his search for their whereabouts. Lifting her tapestry from the table next to her, she leaned back comfortably in the chair, confident that if anyone could find them, Ian would. Her only concern now was that Ian find them before Radolf.

Ian, she thought, idly stabbing the cloth with her needle. The fool will do anything I tell him. Tis a shame he had no property as a youth. He would have been a good husband and we could have ruled all of southern England ... he with his undying devotion and skill with a sword, and I with the cunning to achieve such goals. One corner of her mouth lifted with her conviction. Though fate had played an unkind trick on her and had given her a spineless husband instead, she knew that through her son she would have all she had ever Wanted. Radolf would rule Wellington and Harcourt, and in time secure other lands as well. Her name would be spoken at court and all those who had snubbed her before would look upon her with respect.

Edlyn jumped at a loud bang in the great hall below and, once she realized the noise had been the slamming of a door, wondered what simpleton had made such a barbaric entrance. Then her son's deep voice rang out calling for her to make her presence seen, and her own temper flared that he could be so impudent. No one dared command her to do anything she did not already wish to do, and hearing her son state the demand for everyone to hear sorely nettled her. If he wanted to speak with her, he would have to come to her chambers. But when his summons came again and nearly rattled the timbers, she angrily tossed aside her needlework. Heaving herself from the chair, she crossed the room, threw open the door, and stepped into the hallway. At the top of the staircase, she halted, glaring down at the young man who waited.

"Hast thou had thy fill of ale, Radolf, that thou wouldst act so carelessly?" she hissed, gray eyes blazing.

"Nay, Mother," he returned with a snarl. "Had I too much to drink I would not have waited for thee to come to me. I am lord of Wellington and all who live within its walls must answer to me. So do not place yourself above the rest."

Edlyn's thin frame stiffened with her rage. "And you forget, my son, the title is only yours once your half brother is dead. Until that time, I rule this land and all its people."

A wicked smile twisted his face and he glanced back at Kennard, who stood silently behind him. "A problem easy to remedy. Wouldst thou not agree, cousin?"

Kennard made a feeble attempt at a smile, avoiding Edlyn's eyes, and said nothing, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He hated the confrontations Radolf had with his mother, for it seemed she always came out victorious and made her son appear the fool. But then the subjects of their discussions had never been as important as the one they now faced, for the only thing that truly mattered to Radolf was Lady Jewel. And Edlyn had planned to dispose of her.

"Now Mother," he heard Radolf continue, an obvious challenge in his voice, "I suggest you take a seat near the fire where we can talk and our words will not be heard by all." He swept out a hand indicating the chairs placed before the hearth and smiled up evilly at her, waiting.

Edlyn's temper lessened a degree with the warning look he gave her, a seldom experienced respect for her son taking its place and a curiosity about the reason for his dark mood urging her down the stairs. Radolf had always been weak as a boy, a trait that had continued into manhood, forcing her to take command of his every move. To see him stand his ground brought a new awareness and for once she felt pride for the courage he displayed, even though it had been aimed at her. She admired it, but once they were alone, she would have to remind him of his place.

"Where is Ian? he asked, watching his mother smooth out the skirts of her gunna as she sat in the chair. Crossing to the fireplace, he laid one arm along the mantel and propped his booted foot on the stone slab of the hearth's base, then casually turned to look at her. "I have not seen him in a while and it seems that wherever you are found, he is not far away. Hast thou sent him on an errand, Mother?"

Resting an elbow on the arm of her chair, Edlyn interlocked the fingers of both hands and leisurely returned his stare, appearing as elegant as any queen might do. "Ian?" she repeated, one thin brow raised questioningly.

"Yes, Ian." Radolf glowered. "Where hast thou sent him?"

"I beg thy forgiveness, Radolf," she replied calmly, a faint smile on her lips, "but I do not know where Ian is."

"Nor do I," he said through clenched teeth. "But I can tell you where he has been."

Accepting the cup of wine one of the serfs had thoughtfully brought her, Edlyn studied the intricate designs on the chalice for a moment, then lifted her eyes to look at her son. "And where might that be?"

"Canst thou not guess, Mother? I am certain he journeyed there at your command."

Relaxing back in her chair with a sigh, the chalice dangling from her fingertips, she glanced over at Kennard, who stood quietly observing a few feet from them with his arms folded over his chest, and she asked, "Hast thou any knowledge of his meaning, Kennard? I fear I do not."

Uneasy, he looked at his cousin, then back at Edlyn, before he lowered his head and studied the floor.

"Apparently you do," she observed with an arrogant lift of her chin. She had never thought of Kennard as a threat before. He had never had the backbone to stand up to her. But right now she saw him in a different light, for obviously he and Radolf had decided to meet with her united in their purpose, and Edlyn suddenly wondered if the ruling force had swung the other way.

"We have not come here to match wits, Mother," Radolf broke in. "Nor will I pretend there is the slightest chance you truly do not know what Ian has planned." Straightening abruptly, he moved to stand before her, feet apart, his fists clenched at his sides. "Ian is about the same business as we, but with a very dissimilar purpose in mind. He too is looking for Jewel, but if he finds her, he will kill her. And thou art the one who ordered it done."

Edlyn's heart pounded in her chest, but she gave no outward sign that his discovery of her scheme had affected her. Forcing herself to relax, she took a sip of wine and set the cup aside on the table next to her. "Hath Ian not been with thee since birth, my son?" she asked, raising a hand to silence him when he opened his mouth to vent his anger. "Hath he not cared for thee, taught thee how to use a sword, to ride the swiftest horse, and stood beside thee at Harcourt without question?" She waited for him to nod his agreement, but when he only stared, she rushed on. "Then consider this. Perhaps he searches for Jewel out of concern for thee. . . knowing of thy love for her, he wishes to return her unharmed. Ian has always been a quiet man, never voicing his feelings or making demands. Thou art the son he never had, Radolf. It is his way of expressing his love for thee."

Radolf's eyes narrowed and his doubt shone clearly in them. "Then prithee, why did he murder the friars that gave aid to my half brother and held the only clue to his whereabouts?"

"Murder?" she echoed. "Ian murdered men of the cloth?"

"Yea, Mother. The scar he carries leaves little question as to the assassin's name."

So, Ian has discovered the identity of Amery's companion, she reflected, smiling to herself and reaching for the chalice of wine. Twould explain his reason for killing the monks. lifting the cup to her lips, she feigned a troubled frown as if she needed the wine to ease her distress, while in truth she silently toasted the man's success. She had given him orders to leave no witnesses behind and, as usual, Ian had done as she had requested. As for her son, he would easily be convinced as always.

"If Ian is guilty as you claim, Radolf, then there is only one explanation I can give," she said, stroking her brow with the back of her hand. "The friars resisted when he questioned them, and because they had helped Amery and refused to aid in his search, he killed them for it. But whatever the reason, my son, he did it for you." Setting down her cup, she rose and went to him, her hands extended and a smile on her lips. "Have faith, Radolf. Ian will find Jewel and bring you news."

"Of her death?" he asked sarcastically, his mouth curled in a sneer.

"Nay, Radolf," she argued, pausing when he refused to allow the embrace she offered. "Trust me. I have never done wrong to you before. And what lies ahead will only be for your good."

"Then pray, Mother, that Jewel has a future as well, for if Ian kills her, 'twill be your heart my blade will find." He glared dangerously at her a moment, then motioned for Kennard to follow, and the two men left the hall without a backward glance.

"You fool," Edlyn hissed beneath her breath, staring at the closed door. "You'll regret the day you spoke to me thus." In an angry whirl of skirts, she stormed off toward her room where she could think awhile in peace. He could not threaten her and get away with it. She would find a way to bring him to his knees. And as for Kennard . .. she would see him dead for his part in helping Radolf.