Knight of Runes (21 page)

“As you have asked, Lord Arik, I have chained your powers. You cannot use them, at least not now. You know well if I remove the runes totally they will be gone forever.”

“This is not what I told you to do,” Arik bellowed in rage.

Emrys raised himself to his full height, his voice powerful, strong and commanding. “You cannot make this decision when Leticia’s death is so fresh and your emotions are so raw. I will not permit it, neither will the Council. But I will give you solace. I will relieve you of the burden, for now. When the time comes…” He put up his hand to stay Arik’s interruption. “If the time comes, all you need to do is call me. The Council awaits the day.

“You must know you have the greatest potential. We hope you will once again stand among us.” Emrys turned, a drawn tired expression on his face, and solemnly passed through the mirror, leaving Arik alone in his tower room.

Standing at the window, Arik’s gaze caught Rebeka and Doward at the lake, arguing. He let out a soft laugh. The woman always had words with someone. He thought back to another time when he was able to listen to the voices carry on the wind. Now he heard nothing.

How prophetic Emrys’ words had been. He bent down at the hearth and lifted the old worn tapestry to reveal the pentagram etched on the stone floor. He took a soft brush from the dresser drawer and swept away the debris. The pentagram, richly colored with greens and reds, lay on a large hearthstone outlined in pure gold. He lit the fire, took out candles and chalk, and prepared the floor. He stood in front of the full mirror, took a deep breath and started the incantation.

The mirror surface changed. The liquid quicksilver swirled and became a roiling thick vapor.

“Lord Arik.”

“Come, Grand Master.”

“Are you certain this is what you want?”

Emrys came through the mirror into the room.

Arik stood before his mentor in britches and a loose open shirt. The faded runes tattooed on his body seemed to come alive. He could feel his body rippling, coming back to life, his muscles flexing. The intricate patterns and drawings set in frames like an Egyptian cartouche snaked from his back, over his shoulder, across his muscular chest and disappeared beneath the waistband of his britches, sitting low on his hips.

Arik strengthened his resolve. “Aye, I am certain. I should have done this sooner, when I suspected Bran had something to do with this. The
H
is his sign.”

“The Council will be glad you’ve returned to us. I’ve come to reanoint the runes you wear and welcome you back to the brotherhood. I share my strength with you so your journey will be…”

Arik held up his hand. “You do me a great honor to reanoint the runes but this is a journey I must make alone.”

“The process is easy, but the way to reawakening is difficult.” The pained expression on Emrys’ face spoke of the danger. He put his hand on Arik’s shoulder. “When the magic builds it may cloud your mind. You should not be alone.”

Arik took his hand, clapped him on the back and drew his old mentor close. “I must find my own way in this.”

Stepping back, Emrys eyed him, a final evaluation. “I will see you in the Council chamber, Lord Arik, where we will truly celebrate your return. I warn you again, the way back is not an easy one. You may not see things clearly. You must take care.” He led Arik to the center of pentagram.

Arik shrugged off his shirt. He and his mentor began the ancient chant. The still air in the room started to churn, buffeting around the room, but it didn’t touch the two druids. Emrys took an oak leaf dipped in laurel oil and anointed the tattoos on Arik’s back and over his heart while they continued to chant. Then he stepped away and waited for the runes to come to life. Slowly the rich warm glow traveled from one rune to the next. Satisfied, Arik’s mentor fondly squeezed his protégé’s shoulder and silently stepped into the mirror, disappearing in the mist.

Arik stood ready to complete the ritual while the wind gathered into a vortex, swirling around him. As distorted pictures passed in front of him, the glow of his runes steadily grew stronger. His concentration broke for a moment, sending him into a freefall but something held him up, his concentration returned. When there wasn’t a dark rune left, Arik spoke the final words of the chant and stepped out of the pentagram. It had begun. Now he needed to be patient and wait for the magic to mature.

The following evening, Arik sat in his armchair with his head back, and eyes closed. The pungent fragrance of laurel oil filled the air and the room still held a hint of the familiar glow from his tattoos now covered under his shirt. There was a knock at the door. Marcus entered.

“Arik, are you well?” A longtime comrade and confidante of Arik’s, Marcus well knew the signs of magic.

“Yes, Marcus. I’ll be fine. I only need time.”

“The patrol returned. They found these near the willow they investigated yesterday with Rebeka.” Marcus carefully placed an amulet and a violet ribbon in Arik’s hand.

“What made them look there?”

Marcus shrugged. “They found a message in the barracks that said we missed something near the tree.”

Arik held the emerald-and-diamond talisman.
Letty’s amulet.
It was tied with Rebeka’s violet ribbon.
What does it mean?

“Arik, friend, what do you think?”

Arik’s head was filled with jumbled thoughts.
Rebeka had Letty’s amulet.

“She has betrayed me, Marcus.” He spoke solemnly. The very thought tore at him. He didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence…

“You think Rebeka has betrayed you? You can’t be certain! I can’t believe she is a spy or traitor. There must be an explanation.”

“Letty’s amulet has been missing since she died. We’ve long believed whoever had it was responsible for her death. Your men did well.”

He dismissed Marcus. Alone in the tower room, Arik paced as he tried to put the pieces together. The woman had the book.
Perhaps I didn’t remove it quickly enough? Maybe she unlocked the secret of the amulet and the standing stones?
He tortured himself with unanswered questions.
Could she cause more destruction? Why would she do such a thing? Has everything she’s said and done been a lie? For whom does she work? Bran? Does Doward play some part here?
The thoughts churned and made him more frustrated. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to concentrate, sort things out but he couldn’t see things clearly, not yet, not with the magic still gathering in him. His world spun out of control, falling to pieces around him, the ache in his chest almost unbearable.

He groaned remembering the velvety touch of her skin. How the heat of her kisses were a prelude to his deepest desires. His elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, the thought of her working against him twisted into reality. Her betrayal galvanized into a penetrating hatred. If she had anything to do with Letty’s death, he would tear her apart.
Enough!
The scream echoed in his brain. He knew what he must do. He picked up the amulet and left the tower.

Right before dawn Arik burst through door into Rebeka’s room. Startled from sleep she jumped out of the chair, Leticia’s book falling to the floor. She wore only a thin, sheer, white nightdress and stood before the glow of the fire feeling exposed, embarrassed he could practically see her naked.

“What is it?”

His eyes were like a demon’s. He said nothing.

“Arik,” she said softly. Silently she stepped closer. “What is it?” she repeated.

He held out his hand and showed her the amulet tied with the violet ribbon. Her hand went to her hair. The ribbon was gone.

He still didn’t speak. The seconds dragged on. “Tell me,” he commanded at last.

His voice made her stop. Fear ran through her. She had never seen him look so fearful. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” She tried to stay calm.

“Tell me.” There was urgency in his voice.

This was going nowhere. She studied his eyes carefully. There was something wrong. She winced at his savage stare. She needed to get through to him. She reached out to take the offered amulet from his hand—it was similar to the one Emily had bequeathed her, the one hidden in her pouch.

With his other hand he grabbed her hair and spun her around. He trapped both of her arms so she couldn’t move and pulled her head back against his chest, his mouth by her ear. Softly but dangerously he whispered, “I do not want to play. I want answers and I want them now.”

She knew better than to struggle. She doubted she would be successful anyway.

“You will tell me!” he demanded. He held her tight, took her from the room and down the stairs. He kicked the door behind the stairs open and descended still farther. He dragged her down the last stairs, the torches flaring to life when they passed. Arik moved easily through a maze of dimly lit dark passageways.

Finally, he pulled her into a small dank room and dropped her unceremoniously on the floor.

“Arik.” She stood up, barely able to keep the fear out of her voice. She looked around her. The room was small—ten feet by ten feet at most, and three stories high with small openings in the ceiling. The walls seeped moisture and were patched with mold. Straw covered the floor and the only furnishings were a narrow bed without any mattress that sat only inches from the floor, one chair and a table. This was no room—it was a dungeon.

“Tell me,” he commanded her again.

“Arik,” she yelled back. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything you ask but I have no idea what you want.” The shock was wearing off. She was truly afraid but needed to stay calm, cooperate and give him what he wanted.

If she told him the truth, would he believe her? She had argued the point with Doward when they met at the lake. She wanted to tell Arik but Doward told her she mustn’t, that her life depended on it.

“Tell me about the amulet,” he demanded, pushing her into the one chair in the room.

“I don’t know about the amulet. I haven’t seen it before.”

“And the ribbon?” he asked.

“It could be mine. I seemed to have lost it.” She was surprised not to have it in her hair. “I wore it yesterday morning when I went to the clearing by the willow tree,” she said more to herself as she tried to remember what happened to it. She racked her brain searching for an answer. What could possibly have happened to turn Arik against her so?

“Before I leave here you will tell me everything I want to know.” He leaned his hands on the table and bent close, glaring at her. She could feel the anger radiating from him in waves.

“Of course, Arik.” There was more bravado in her voice than she felt. She knew if he left the room, he didn’t intend to take her with him. The thought wasn’t pleasant. “I must have lost the ribbon at the clearing yesterday morning. I tied it in my hair before I left. My hair caught in some bramble at the clearing and Drago helped me get it free. What else do you want to know?”

Had that been a burst of recognition when he showed her Letty’s amulet? He would not let anyone compromise his family and people, not even her. “What is your connection with Doward?” He straightened and paced in front of her.

“He found me on the trail and offered to see me to the village.”

He swung around and faced her. “Who are you and where are you from?” He should have asked her these questions weeks ago. He could see it so clearly now.

Rebeka began to shiver. Arik noticed but said nothing.

“Arik, you know where I’m from.”

He wouldn’t let the question go. “I want you to tell me again what happened. This time do not leave anything out.”

“It’s how Doward told you. I had family business in London. I was on my way to review the documents in your library. I had an accident and Doward found and helped me.”

“Who sent you to review the documents?”

“My solicitor, George Hughes.”

She got up. “Arik, why are we down here? Let’s go upstairs. We can talk where it’s more comfortable.” She headed for the door but he read her intent and in a few long strides was at the door before she got close. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. She centered herself and at the right moment went to head butt him. He sidestepped. The momentum carried her forward and she slammed her head into the wall, crumpling to the floor. He stood over her, his legs apart and his hands fisted on his hips. “Get up!”

She faced him, blood trickling down her forehead. Slowly she got to her feet.

“You want to play, woman. Well then, we will play.” He circled her like an animal circling its prey. She stared straight ahead, her skin covered in goose bumps. She stood tall, her feet apart, her hands at her sides, a warrior’s stance, both giving and commanding respect.

He ran his fingers down her arm, caressed her shoulder.

In one quick motion he tore the nightdress off her and continued his merciless inspection. His hand ran over her thighs, across the top of her chest and rubbed her backside sensuously.

He stood by her side. His breath came ragged and hot as he moved behind her. Roping his arm around her waist he pulled her to his chest, and cupped her breast with his hand. She gasped beneath his touch.

“Your shivers seem to have stopped, woman.” His voice turned cold. “Do you prefer these shivers instead?” He laughed without humor. “Is this how you would like to play?” he taunted her. He rubbed himself against her backside. “You have nothing to say? Speak to me and tell me, woman. You’re never at a loss for words.”

He closed his eyes and marveled at the feel of her, velvet and yielding. How he longed to touch her. But not this way. She had awakened something deep and primal in him.
Letty.
An icy shiver blanketed him and once again, the anger returned.

She hesitated for a moment. “I thought you were an honorable man, Lord Arik,” she said without any emotion. She spoke so quietly, he had to strain to hear her. “I thought you…”

He spun her around to face him before she finished her sentence. He peered searchingly into her eyes and then he kissed her, deeply and completely and she kissed him back with a wanting that surprised him.

A charge surged through Arik like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to force her to tell him everything and he wanted her with a longing he could not explain, even to himself. He plundered her mouth and was welcomed sweetly. He grabbed her and held her close, only to have her melt into him. Finally, he pulled away. Her lips were bruised from his assault, and a trail of blood down her forehead and cheek were an indication of the turmoil he felt. Once again, a cold wave overtook him.

He tossed her nightdress back to her. “Cover yourself,” he demanded. “And think of a better story. I’ll be back tomorrow to hear what you have to say.” He slammed the door and locked it behind him, leaving the cell in complete darkness.

“Arik, please don’t leave me in the dark,” she begged. She hated hearing the tone in her voice but she couldn’t stop it.

She listened to his footsteps retreat down the hall until she no longer could hear them. A torch in her cell flared to life, startling her.

She wrapped her nightdress around her. A shiver overtook her and she stood by the torch for some warmth, but it gave none. It was a cold light, like the light in Arik’s eyes. She sat on the chair and searched all around for a way out. Perhaps the openings in the ceiling? They were too high off the ground and the walls too smooth, without any handholds.

The adrenaline rush drained. She couldn’t keep her eyes open and put her head down on the table. Just a little sleep. She needed to keep up her strength. She closed her eyes but all she saw was Arik’s fury. He didn’t believe her. She had to figure out how to get back to her own time. She couldn’t stay here any longer. Laying her head on the table, she slept.

Arik intended to leave her in the dungeon while he searched her room. Hopefully time in the cell would convince her to tell him the truth. The sound of her begging for light rang in his ears. He hated himself for making her do that. Why did he torment her so physically? It was not his nature, yet something compelled him to touch her, assault her, kiss her. He never expected her to kiss him back. The power of that kiss tormented him. He was ravenous for her. The feel of her skin, the taste of her lips were maddening. He could swear his body burned for her from his shoulder all the way down his chest. Her kiss and the magic building inside him were driving him mad. He never expected either to take hold of him like this.

He stood at the window in her room, his head against the pane. This reaction must be tied to the reawakening. He had to get away from her. Fear worked its way through his body. He lifted his head and realized he couldn’t trust himself near her. For her safety, he needed to leave.

He searched everything and everywhere in her room but found nothing of interest, only Letty’s forgotten book. He took it with him and went down to the library.

He rummaged through her papers and read some of her writing.
Nothing.
He scanned Letty’s journal, interested in the runes and formulas. A slip of paper fluttered to the floor. He absently picked it up and put it on the desk.

How could she read these runes? She said her father taught her. Who is he?
He sat at the table and tried to understand the white-hot anger driving him. He wanted to ask her more questions.
Who am I fooling?
He snorted derisively. He needed to see her. Touching her and kissing her had started a yearning that raced through him like a wild fire. He had to make this right. He got up to return to the dungeon, his hand brushing the forgotten paper onto the floor. He picked it up, unfolded the scrap and read the runes. “Protect them all.”

“M’lord!” Marcus knocked urgently at the door.

“Come.” Arik still stared at the note written in Letty’s hand. Only a fragment, it was torn from the bottom of a larger piece of foolscap.

“Lord Arik.” Marcus entered the library with Robert.

“Yes, Marcus.” He refolded the note and put it back inside the book. “What is it?”

“Robert is here with a messenger from Sir Stuart. There has been some trouble at Autumn Chase.”

The man was out of breath and looked tired from a long hard ride. “M’lord, we have caught some thieves who attacked farmers on both your land and ours. Sir Stuart asks you to come quickly.”

“Go to Jeannie. She will give you something to eat. You look like you could use some food. Once you have rested we can leave.”

“Begging your pardon, m’lord, I have ridden hard to get here and I must return at once.”

“Very well, go with Marcus. He will get you a fresh horse.” He turned to Marcus, urgency in his voice. “Choose ten men who will ride with us. We’ll go to Sir Stuart at once.”

Within minutes, Arik left the Manor for Sir Stuart’s estate. Leticia’s note and Rebeka would have to wait.