Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (129 page)

But then he frowned at the realization that
Niall was not only unconscious, but that he was being cast into the
cell with all the others. Odo drummed his fingers on his table, not
impressed to see a woman heavily with child and a brood of children
locked in, as well.

The guard who Odo did not like sauntered
back along the corridor and grinned. “Another lot for the
executioner. Faith, but that man never goes lacking for labor.”

Odo withdrew into his small chamber and
retrieved his ledger. “Is that Niall of Malloy among their number?”
he asked with all the innocent curiosity he could summon.
Hopefully, ’twould pass under the pretence of needing the
information for his register.

“
Aye. You know him?” The
sentry’s gaze was a little too searching for Odo’s
taste.

He shrugged. “I thought he looked familiar.
He labored here for a while.”

“
Ah, before his quest no
doubt. Well, the man is a failure, of that there can be no doubt.
The one who looks about to calf is his sister, the children her
brats, and they are all to die together.”

Odo frowned. “And the charge?”

“
Sorcery. As
usual.”

Odo cleared his throat, certain he must have
misunderstood. “Surely not the children?”

“
Of course, the
children
,” the guard sneered. “They teach them young, that
kind, and one cannot be too wary.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you
sufficiently wary, Odo? ’Tis said they have all fallen under the
witch’s spell.” He leaned closer. “She seems to fancy small men,
Odo, for her minion is one such. You had best mind yourself this
night.”

Odo wriggled a little further back into his
chamber. “Do you have their names and ages?”

“
What?”

“
For the register.” Odo
tapped the book.

The sentry shrugged. “Nay, not I. If you
care so much, you can fetch the truth of it yourself. I am to
summon the executioner for the dawn three days hence.”

Odo nodded numbly, hoping the sentry would
not guess how the bile had risen in his throat. The sentries
marched away, jesting amongst themselves and Odo considered what he
should do.

He liked Niall of Malloy, always had. A man
could smell a man of honor and Niall had been one. Niall had
insisted on taking responsibility for the disappearance of a witch
who had surely beguiled him, a deed that many a man would not have
done. And Niall had sworn to make matters come right, to fetch back
the witch.

Contrary to the sentry’s insistence, Niall
had not failed. Nay, Odo recalled the face of that very witch and
he had seen her in that party. Niall had succeeded, and he was to
be rewarded with not only his own demise but that of all his
blood.

Charged of sorcery, a laughable pretence for
any who had ever known Niall of Malloy. The man believed in naught
that could not be held in his own hands. Sorcery! Odo rolled his
eyes before his hand stilled at the price Niall would pay.

First, Aaron Goldsmith had died, along with
his loyal wife.

Now, Niall of Malloy was to share that
fate.

And
children
were to die!
Innocents!

’
Twas wrong. ’Twas
unconscionable.

’
Twas time someone did
something about the matter. Aye, Odo’s father had told him once
that there comes a time in every man’s life when he must choose
where he will stand.

As he opened his ledger and carefully
inscribed the date, Odo chose.

*

Back on Salt Spring, things were not going
well. At least not for Barb. October had come, accompanied by
chilly rains and an autumnal dearth of revenue. On this particular
Monday, two days after everyone had left her high and dry without
so much as a note, she closed the shop and trudged down to the
relative cheer of Joe’s bakery. It couldn’t hurt to nurse a latte
while she mourned over her books.

“
Weather sucks, eh?” Joe
demanded with false cheer. There was no one else in the shop and
Barb guessed he was feeling the same retail fallout as
she.

“
Among other things.” She
marked Monty’s balance in red, then underlined it twice, just
because she was so annoyed with him. Not only had he disappeared
but he’d nailed her with an unwelcome NSF charge from the
bank.

Ten bucks she could have used for something
frivolous, like a deposit against the phone bill.

“
Seen that Monty around
lately?” Joe asked.

Barb grimaced. “He seems to have fallen off
the face of the earth.”

“
No kidding.” Joe poured
himself a coffee and came to sit opposite her. “Doesn’t that
figure. You try to be a nice guy and just take it in the
shorts.”

Barb met his gaze with surprise. “He owed
you money, too?”

“
Oh yeah. Not a lot, but it
grates. Coupla hundred bucks.”

“
Fourteen hundred and
twenty,” Barb supplied and Joe winced.

“
Yeow! How’d you let him
get away with that? I mean, he was a talker, but not
that
smooth.”

Barb rubbed her temples, not appreciating
the reminder that she’d let her emotions get the upper hand on her
good sense. “He paid off his old balance with a boinger of a
check.”

“
And you didn’t know it
would boing, so you let him charge some more.” Joe shook his head.
“I tell you, nice guys always finish last.” He clinked his mug
companionably to hers and they sipped together. “Did he book off
with that little redhead you had working there? I haven’t seen her
much either.”

“
Yeah, all three of them
are gone without a trace.” Barb wouldn’t think that it was kind of
convenient to have no payroll when things were this slow. And she
certainly wasn’t going to admit that she missed Viviane - let alone
the nice masculine scenery. Nope, she was better off without the
lot of them.

Wherever they had gone.

“
But it’s the quiet ones
that surprise you. She seemed like a sweetie, that Viviane, though
you never can tell.” Joe frowned. “Course, you’re probably glad to
be without the payroll this time of year.”

Barb nodded reluctantly. “Except she could
really sell books.” She sighed and closed her ledger. Barb felt
bankrupt, both financially and spiritually, and couldn’t imagine
how she’d shake herself out of it this time. Maybe she should just
let the bank take it all - at least then she’d have nothing left to
worry about. The grey slant of cold rain only emphasized the
futility of it all.

Her lone iris would probably die.

“
Hey, Joe, you got anything
else that needs doing?”

A rather interesting specimen of the male
gender stepped out of the back of the bakery, wiping his hands on a
rag. Barb wasn’t down quite so far that she didn’t notice.

A small frown marred the space between this
guy’s dark brown brows and he had to be six four. He had dark brown
eyes too, and a serious demeanor. He was built, if looking a bit
gaunt and pale, although winter didn’t favor everybody. No, this
guy looked like he’d rather be outside.

And it was lousy weather for that. Barb
sipped and watched him through her lashes.

A harmless treat, after all.

He didn’t even glance at Barb, not even out
of curiosity, and she tagged him as gay before returning her
attention completely to her latte.

A waste, she thought absently. Figured.

Joe frowned. “Sorry, Ryan, I can’t think of
another thing.”

The man shrugged and tossed the rag into the
trash. “Then maybe I’ll have a look at the truck’s transmission
again.”

He turned and left, even as Joe shook his
head. “Poor guy,” he muttered.

“
New employee, at this time
of year? You surprise me.”

“
Nah, it’s my kid brother.”
Joe sipped as though weighing the merit of explaining, then he
shrugged. “Helluva story if you ask me. Busted his ass building a
business on the mainland, his wife takes it into her head that he’s
not good enough for her and packs it up. Gutted his business on the
way - getting
her
half - though she did sweet bugger-all but
spend all those years. Ripped his heart out and ate the sucker
warm, if you know what I mean.”

Barb nodded. “Read the book and saw the
movie.”

“
No kidding? Well, hey,
it’s hardly my business.” Joe sighed. “Anyhow, he was too good to
her, I say, even at the end, and now he’s got nothing to show for
all his work. She’s living in style, as you can imagine, some fancy
hotshot lawyer sipping champagne at her feet.” Joe shook his head.
“Another nice guy finishing last.”

Barb smiled despite herself. “Runs in the
family?”

Joe grinned. “Yeah, yeah, you could say
that.” He sobered and leaned closer. “Be a while before Ryan heads
back onto the field though - he’s hurting bad and won’t talk about
it at all. I tell you, I’m running out of odd jobs around here,
though I can understand that he wants to keep busy.”

Joe licked his lips, casting a quick glance
to the doorway his brother had briefly occupied. “You don’t happen
to have anything that needs doing, do you, Barb?”

Barb shook her head. “Joe, I’m fresh out of
cash. I’m not going to have someone do any work for me when I can’t
pay them.” Barb wrinkled her nose. “It’s not in the nice guy
code.”

But Joe frowned. “No, that’s not what I
mean. I don’t care about the cash and neither does he. He just
needs something to keep his hands busy, he’s not the kind of guy to
sit still and brood. Ryan will work his way through it, he’s a
pretty balanced guy.” He snapped his fingers. “You could think of
it as providing therapy.”

Barb laughed. “Well, what does he do? I
don’t have a car, let alone one needing a transmission repair.”

“
Nah, that’s just a hobby.
Ryan’s a landscape architect and I tell you, he’s damn
good.”

Barb caught her breath. “You mean he designs
gardens.”

“
Yeah, and puts them in.
You name it - rocks and patios and decks and trees and pretty
posies all in a row. Got no gift for it myself, kill everything I
touch. The missus too. She’s got African violets blooming on the
windowsill for the first time ever and is thrilled to bits. Ryan’s
even done little waterfalls and I swear to God, when he’s done,
they look as though they were there all along.”

Barb was tempted. Really tempted. But one
glance at her books reminded her of the realities of her situation.
“Oh, Joe, I’ve wanted a garden forever.” She sighed. “But I don’t
know how to do it or even where to start…”

Joe saluted her with his cup. “A match made
in heaven!”

“
But, Joe, I don’t have any
money for it! The plants will be expensive…”

“
Hey, not wholesale. And
maybe we can cut a deal with someone - Ryan already was talking to
some woman down Fulford way who’s setting up a nursery for the
spring. They’re trying to work out a deal to the advantage of both
of them. She might need books, or advertising space in your store.
I don’t know, but it never hurts to ask.”

“
But…”

“
But
nothing
, Barb.
This is a community and we’ll work something out. More goddamn
creativity on this island than you can shake a stick at - let’s use
some. It’s not like we’re that busy in the winter.”

Before Barb could argue any more, Joe raised
his voice. “Hey, Ryan! We might have a job for you!”

And Barb felt a tingle of excitement for the
first time in years. A garden!

Suddenly, her prospects didn’t look so
dreary after all.

*

’
Twas not the first time of
late that Niall had awakened with a pounding between his ears, and
that realization did naught to improve his mood.

Neither did the persistent ache in his knee.
Aye, he knew where he was without opening his eyes and the chatter
of voices told him who else languished here along with him.

And that made Niall of Malloy deeply angry.
He had been betrayed, by his own overlord, the man to whom he had
pledged his loyalty forever.

It seemed the oath was not reciprocated in
this case.

Aye, Niall had kept his word and fulfilled
his quest, only to learn that the archbishop was not a man of
honor. The archbishop dishonored Niall’s pledge of fealty and
disregarded it, simply for his own convenience. The archbishop had
condemned Viviane to death, even knowing that she was not a witch.
The archbishop had taken advantage of Majella’s vulnerable
state.

Clearly, the archbishop was not interested
in justice. Viviane had guessed the truth of it but Niall had
believed he knew better.

And now, everyone he cared about was going
to die for his mistake.

Niall did not want to open his eyes and face
yet another failure to his name. He feigned sleep and listened to
the chatter around him, almost smiling at the weight of a small
hand on his arm. He could readily guess who that was, sitting so
close beside him, and did not have long to wait for
confirmation.

“
But what did Gawain
do
?” Matthew asked, wonder in his voice.

Niall did smile then, just a little, for he
knew by that question alone whose hip was pressed against his own.
He lay on a hard pallet, his Viviane seated beside him, his nephew
keeping vigil.

“
Well, he asked the old hag
to move out of the road, because he didn’t want to run her down.”
Viviane’s voice so close beside him made Niall’s heart begin to
pound. “He asked very politely, because he was a man who recognized
the importance of good manners, but the hag refused to
move.”