Memories of the Heart (21 page)

Edith nodded but slow tears began to fall. “I am most earnestly sorry.”

Heart aching for Edith, Ceri wrapped comforting arms completely around the girl soon overwhelmed by a quiet sobbing.

Tal watched this further demonstration of the Welsh damsel's compassionate heart and felt his own tremble with an emotion he feared might prove his own undoing. With a wariness any prudent warrior must nurture, he forced himself to acknowledge rumors and reports strongly suggesting Ceri might be less than the lovable angel she seemed.

“You are forgiven, Edith,” Tal quietly assured the unhappy girl. “And I vow some method will be found to secure your heart's desire without the need to either wed or further spy on me.”

Edith pulled from Ceri's arms and turned her tearstained face toward the source of this remarkable promise. No one in her life, not even Eldon, would offer so much without the certainty of a valuable return for the deed.

“Now go,” Tal quietly instructed. “Wash your face with cool water and join the castle's company for the day's first meal.”

Edith responded with a trembling smile and hastened away to do as he bade—but Ceri lingered.

Since Ceri had claimed the reason for coming to him was Edith's confession, Tal was uneasy when she remained after that matter had been resolved.

“You have more revelations to share?” Tal asked the tense beauty hovering near the door.

“A revelation that's also a warning.” Ceri spoke despite the likelihood that her words would deepen Tal's suspicions. Ceri was willing to accept this risk for even the faint hope that he'd take steps to guard against the danger she worried might overtake him.

Tal's expression went to cold stone. He said nothing but felt a chill breeze as if his worst fears had been confirmed.

“Edith is not the only spy sheltered within Castle Westbourne,” Ceri flatly stated.

“Really?” Tal didn't bother to hide his skepticism from her.

Ceri resolutely continued. “No matter your distrust of Lloyd for having lost his beloved to a life in Westbourne, I swear he was not responsible for the arrow loosed upon you while on patrol.”

“But if not Lloyd, then who?” Stung by the growing probability that Ceri had deceived him with a false facade, Tal's sarcastic question was asked with no expectation of a response.

“Sir Ulrich is proud of the deed.” Green eyes softened with compassion for Tal's painful discovery of treachery in someone he'd known so long.

Tal scowled. Ulrich was upset over having lost his position as guard captain, yet Tal doubted the man decades in service to Westbourne would so quickly foreswear his oaths of loyalty.

More troubling still was the question of how Ceri could claim with such certainty anything about the escaped prisoner's innocence or guilt. If she had talked with Lloyd, it meant she'd been a part of the wretched deed setting him free.

While the frowning Tal was lost in dark thoughts, Ceri backed from a chamber chilled by suspicion. There were tasks waiting in the kitchens and, though her purpose for being tardy was laudable, she hated to disappoint the seneschal.

Tal appeared distracted yet he was very aware of the beauty and sensed her gentle warmth withdrawing as she departed. He didn't want to doubt the one he feared already possessed his heart. But he'd be more than a fool, he would be a dangerous master were he to fail in searching out the truth to stand prepared against whatever reality was proven.

Toward that end, Tal descended the stone stairway all the way to the ground level. There, rather than enter the busy kitchens, he turned to the massive guardroom on the other side in search of both his squire and the new guard captain, Sir Alan.

*   *   *

As Tal reentered Castle Westbourne at the end of a bleak day burdened with heavy clouds and pouring rain, his mood was further darkened by the certainty of traitors in its midst. He had the name of one, but suspected there were others. The disheartening question was whether that list included Ulrich or Lloyd. And, if the latter, would it mean—most depressing—that Ceridwen was also involved? He feared the answer but knew that he must have it to secure his people's safety.

After ascending wooden steps and entering the stone stairwell, he climbed beyond the great hall's level, moving upward to reach his own chamber. With the true purpose of Edith's visit known, he chose to allow himself one night's freedom from keeping up the pretense by joining the unwilling bride and his mother at the high table.

Once in his bedchamber, Tal stared blindly through a still unshuttered window and out into the dark velvet of a sky hosting neither stars nor moon. With no other demands upon his attention for the first time since leaving this room in the light of dawn, he was at liberty to solemnly ponder the nature of dangers hidden but undoubtedly looming near.

Taliesan desperately didn't want to believe Blanche's claim that Ceri had cast a spell over him, didn't want to think her capable of treachery against him. His intellect was at war with his heart. Surely Ceri was too open, too compassionate to contain such wickedness … but then the overly pious Edith had seemed equally incapable of such deeds and only look at what unhappy truths had been revealed.

The frustration of battling unseen foes lit smoldering fires in Tal's dark eyes and inspired an initial step to take in securing honest answers to complicated questions.

Immediately rising, Tal moved to pull the thick cord hanging in one corner. It would toll a bell in the kitchens below which in turn would see a servant dispatched forthwith.

Tal hoped the person who answered would be the one he sought. But if not, he was determined to send the servant who responded for Ceri even though another nighttime summons would increase unwelcome gossip.

There were two very different reasons for Tal's reluctance to court further rumors. On one side his people were likely to view him a fool for yielding to the wiles of the female they'd come to deem a witch. Aye, a fool they would think him after having already heard tales about the young Welshwoman's visit to his bed on the night of her friend's escape from the dungeon.

On the other side lay the danger of increasing his own sense of guilt. The fact that none of his fellow noblemen would suffer an instant's shame over fiery play with a mere servant did nothing to help Tal squelch that emotion. Even though Ceri hadn't been chaste, he couldn't shake the weight of blame for summoning her to his chamber and taking her to his bed.

A gentle rapping on the door drew Tal from his bleak thoughts. He called out an order to enter and, whether chosen for the mission by Godfrey or by happenstance, his wish was granted.

Anxiety plagued Ceri as she obeyed her beloved's command and quietly swung his bedchamber door wide. These many hours after their talk of hidden traitors, how would Tal receive the woman he plainly viewed of dubious loyalty?

“Lord Taliesan,” Ceri quietly inquired from the open portal, “what would you have of me?”

Tal slowly turned toward the enchanting figure of gentle curves, lustrous black hair, and berry-sweet lips. The instantaneous flood of tender emotions roused by the sight struck him hard with self-doubt. Innocent accused or beguiling traitor? That question firmed his determination to know the truth however unpleasant it might be.

“Enter—” Tal repeated. “And close the door behind you.”

The black ice in eyes normally warmed by golden sparks, further alarmed Ceri yet she promptly did as commanded despite the trembling of her knees.

“Your words to me this morn raised difficult and dangerous issues that must be addressed without delay and without deception.” Although Taliesan didn't move it seemed to Ceri that he towered above.

“Which words?” Ceri asked the foolish question to barter for time to marshal her bravado against this abrupt attack.

Ceri's obvious ploy put a cold smile on Tal's lips. Tal didn't bother to respond but rather demanded a direct answer to a possibility he feared was a too likely reality.

“How could you know all that you claimed to be true about Lloyd and Ulrich—unless you've been in contact with the escaped prisoner? Have you dealt secretly with Lloyd?”

Ceri slowly shook her head in heartfelt denial of the charge. She realized that he doubtless viewed her morning's warning as a too certain confirmation of her part in that wrongful deed but still the accusation delivered fresh pain. But how could she defend herself without betraying both Lloyd and Vevina? She couldn't and didn't try.

Despite Ceri's negative gesture, Tal went on to demand her answer to a query at the core of all yet never posed to her.

“Did you aid in Lloyd's escape from Westbourne's dungeon?”

“You know I couldn't have been in the dungeons.” Ceri gave this answer with a forlorn smile while candlelight rippled over dark braids coiled neatly atop her head. “In reality, you alone can swear precisely where I spent that night.”

“Ah,” Tal quickly challenged her alibi. “But was that action taken merely to divert my attention from a crime being perpetrated in the deepest level below where we lay?”

Again Ceri had no answer to give and chose to remain silent.

Her refusal to respond painfully deepened Tal's unwelcome doubts and inexorably urged him on to demand the most unwanted answer. “Is it true that you have cast a spell over me?”

Green eyes went wide and silver momentarily sparkled before they darkened with anguish. “Nay, I possess neither the skill nor the power to cast spells of any making.”

But, Tal wondered, considering Ceri's earlier confession of having learned the healing arts from her Gran Mab, was this the truth or a lie? Tal struggled between a bright desire to believe the seeming angel's claim of innocence and an ever more threatening cloud of suspicion and doubt.

As Tal's piercing gaze narrowed, Ceri realized that her words had merely increased his skepticism. With loving heart in her own eyes, Ceri directly met the dark potency of his. “I have loved you for a very long time and would never do anything to harm you, never allow anything to cause you woe that I had the power to prevent.”

Sincerity steadly glowed silver in Ceri's gaze as she turned to proudly walk away from her frowning beloved. At the end of this confrontation, rather than calming the storm of mistrust by revealing secret threats and unknown traitors with demanded answers, Tal found his emotions caught in an even fiercer maelstrom of disheartening confusion.

*   *   *

A sturdy figure impatiently waited, huddled against a stone monolith and plainly miserable in the night's endless drizzle.

“What took you so long?” Ulrich harshly demanded at first sight of his too tall and too thin brother's approach.

Simeon carelessly shrugged while taking pleasure in his brother's obvious discomfort. “The bridge was washed out at Valley Farm, forcing me to travel some distance downstream before locating a place shallow enough to safely ford.”

Ulrich snorted. Only Simeon would be afraid to cross that insignificant stream at any point.

“But why have I been summoned?” Ulrich demanded, irritated by the trouble involved in responding at an hour so late and amid such nasty weather. “Surely it was done to answer more than
your
need.”

Simeon nodded but sneered his disgust for this complaint while motioning Ulrich to follow as he moved through the open space surrounding Grendel's Tor and into the forest beyond. Once there he stepped under the shelter provided by an oak's spreading limbs before speaking again.

“Lord James has chosen his date for the deed to be done.”

“When?” Ulrich immediately demanded to know, refusing to patiently wait for his brother to play out silly guessing games.

“The betrothal rites which Lord Taliesan has carefully planned are scheduled to occur in less than a sennight.” Simeon made this statement with slow deliberation.

Ulrich was disgusted to think he'd been called to undertake this unpleasant journey merely to be informed of facts he assuredly knew better than either Lord James or his brother.

Simeon took delight in his brother's annoyance before adding the message he'd been sent to deliver. “That celebration will be ours rather than Lord Taliesan's to enjoy.”

“A wise choice.” Ulrich briskly nodded. “The attention of all Westbourne will be on the ceremony and its participants.”

Given what he'd come to hear, Ulrich lingered no moment longer but spun to stalk away.

As the two brothers parted company to journey to their respective homes in opposite directions, neither noticed the small figure near overwhelmed in a black cloak and intently watching.

Chapter 17

“I followed Sir Ulrich, as you bade me,” Tom earnestly reported, proud of having been entrusted by his lord with such an important task. His sole regret was that the bustling business of the day and the castle's constantly shifting crowds had prevented him from speaking privately with Lord Taliesan sooner. He hadn't been fortunate enough to catch the earl alone until chores were near complete and other people were hastening to the great hall for the evening meal.

“The knight had left the castle afoot by departing through a hidden gate in the outer bailey wall.” Tom grimaced in mock disgust. “I didn't even know it was there.”

Tal smiled, amused by his squire's exaggerated show of resentment over having been kept ignorant of a curious fact. Still, he wordlessly nodded for the boy to continue.

“Sir Ulrich made his way directly to Grendel's Tor. He was plainly annoyed at being expected to wait—exposed to the storm—until another arrived.”

“Who?” Tal quietly asked.

Tom wished that he had a helpful answer to give his lord but unfortunately … “I've never seen the man before.”

Seeing that the sensitive boy felt he'd failed in an important task, Tal prodded him into realizing that he actually knew more than he thought. “What did the man look like?”