Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (134 page)

She sat down on the beach, oblivious to the
chill and the incoming waves and cried like a child. For there
could be no turning back time again.

Niall of Malloy was lost to Viviane
forever.

*

What Viviane did not linger long enough to
see in Cantlecroft was the procession of torches heading toward the
palace. They flickered in the darkness beyond the windows of the
archbishop’s chamber, drawing that man’s attention away from
Viviane’s abrupt disappearance.

He stared at the wavering line of fire, the
orange flames licking at the blackness of the night and knew a
shadow of dread. Indeed, he had not honed his abilities all these
years for naught - though this portent was impossible to miss.

His reign was to be challenged.

The archbishop’s lip curled at these
peasants having the audacity to defy him. He would see their
insurrection brought low! He would see them all executed, slowly
and painfully.

“
Guards!” he cried and spun
to face the room, pleased with the way his robes flared out behind
him. The men halted as one, more than one blade held at Niall of
Malloy’s throat. That man glared back at the archbishop with a rare
insolence that irked beyond all.

Later. He would save this one for later and
make him writhe. It was Niall of Malloy, after all, who had
retrieved the witch who was at the root of it all. And it was Niall
of Malloy who had compelled the archbishop to condemn a very sweet
bit of temptation, taking Majella from his bed just when she was at
her most luscious.

Truth be told, the archbishop had a fondness
for women ripe with child.

No matter how he viewed it, Niall of Malloy
had cheated him.

The archbishop pointed to the advancing
masses, their murmuring already audible, with every vestige of
righteous indignation he could summon. “Intruders come to assault
the keep! Go forth and slaughter them all!”

The captain of the guard moved to one
window, tipped his visor and frowned. “But my lord, this is no
army. ’Tis the people of Cantlecroft!”

“
Aye! They rebel against my
authority. They are sinners, one and all! We have no need of
prisoners. I have no obligation to feed and shelter them all in my
dungeons at considerable expense. Kill them!”

Gaultier hesitated most tellingly.

The archbishop leaned closer. “Fear not,” he
said smoothly, “for God will recognize his own.”

Gaultier frowned. “But my lord, with
respect, there was some trouble in the village after Aaron
Goldsmith’s demise and it would seem wise…”

The archbishop drew himself to his full
height. “And you would question my wisdom.”

The captain of the guard looked down. “Nay,
my lord. Of course not, my lord, but still…”

“
If you choose to defy me,
then you may be the first to die,” the archbishop amended with a
smile, letting threat slide into his tone. “’Tis unhealthy to
foster disobedience within one’s guard.”

Gaultier’s lips thinned and he closed his
visor with a snap. “Your will shall be done, my lord.” His voice
hardened. “As always.” He gestured to Niall of Malloy. “What of
this one?”

The archbishop settled back in his favored
chair, flicked his robes and smiled. “Truly I tire of this
digression. Divest him of his blade and kill him.”

’
Twould be perfect, truly.
The archbishop had little doubt that his daughter would return.
Aye, those ensnared by love’s sweet lie oft made foolish choices at
their own expense. She would return for Niall of Malloy.

And his bleeding body would distract her
sufficiently long enough for the archbishop to retrieve his
moonstone. As an added advantage, Niall of Malloy would interfere
with the archbishop’s plans no longer.

Perhaps he would ‘forgive’ Majella, once her
brother was dead.

“
My lord?”

“
You heard my command,
Gaultier,” the archbishop snapped. “I will see him dead by your own
hand and immediately.” He inclined a hand toward the window and the
sound of the approaching hordes. “You have other labor at
hand.”

One of the guards divested Niall of his
sword, though that man released his blade reluctantly. A nick on
the wrist persuaded him to surrender it, and he was quickly
divested of his other, smaller, blade.

Still Niall stood with defiance, his gaze
unswerving from the archbishop’s. “You take naught from me,” he
said in a low voice. “Viviane, who was innocent of your charges, is
free.”

The archbishop saw the guards turn to look
at him, questioningly. “For the moment. ’Tis of no matter.” He
gestured impatiently to Gaultier.

“
Is it not?” Niall
demanded, the command in his tone apparently compelling the captain
of the guard to pause. “All of these men witnessed her departure,
inexplicable by any other than magical means.”

He turned to the guards as he pointed to the
archbishop. “’Twas
this
man who devised those magical means,
this man who has the power of sorcery beneath his hand.” Niall
fixed the archbishop with a telling glance. “Would you have all
these guards killed - as you swore to have me killed - simply for
knowing of the truth?”

The archbishop clenched his hands on the
arms of his chair. He could nigh feel the doubt sliding through the
ranks of his own men. Such impertinence!

“
He lies! And he lies so
well because he is beneath the spell of that convicted witch. Kill
him now, before you are bewitched in turn!”

“
How long have you stood in
this chamber, Gaultier?” Niall asked crisply. “Do you recall my
arrival here? ’Twas you who were enchanted when I arrived and it
could not have been by Viviane, who was imprisoned in the dungeons
at that time.”

Gaultier pushed up his visor again, glancing
over his shoulder to the archbishop. His gaze fell tellingly to the
bowl, which still exuded the mist necessary for such minor
spells.

“
Lies!” the archbishop
cried, desperate to see his will done. “Can you not see how he
undermines your thoughts? ’Tis the way of sorcerors and witches, to
make their twisted thoughts seem as your own. Kill him while you
can! Kill him afore ’tis too late for all of us!”

“
I cannot kill an unarmed
man,” the captain of the guard said slowly.

“
He is not unarmed!
He casts spells even as you hesitate to do what is
right!”

“
I know naught of spells
and sorcery,” Niall insisted softly. “I am but a man of honor,
deceived by the man who had the least right to serve me poorly.” He
arched a brow. “Do not believe for a moment, Gaultier, that you are
any less disposable to this one. He would have killed Viviane
simply because she was his own child and he wished none to know he
had spawned a bastard.”

Gaultier’s eyes widened in alarm, but the
archbishop leapt off his chair. “Nay! You infect their thoughts
with lies!” He snatched the blade of one of the sentries and drove
it toward Niall’s throat.

That man did not step away, his gaze did not
waver. Insolence! He deserved to die!

But ’twas not Niall of Malloy who felt the
bite of a blade at his throat. The archbishop choked on the cold
bite of steel. He looked up the length of the blade, even as his
grip on his own faltered, to find disappointment in Gaultier’s dark
eyes.

“
No man of honor kills an
unarmed man,” he declared quietly. “And no man kills his own
blood.” He flicked a glance to Niall. “’Tis telling indeed that I
do not recall this man’s arrival in these chambers, nor do I recall
the sun fading from the sky this day.” Gaultier smiled thinly. “As
you well recall, my lord, I have a fine memory. And I have never
liked that bowl.”

With that, his lips tightened and the
archbishop felt the blade bite deeper.

He knew no more after that, which in the end
was good. ’Twould have nigh killed him to see his magical bowl
dropped from that window to shatter on the stones below.

He would have been troubled to know that
shortly thereafter, peasants flowed freely through his halls and
partook of their bounty. He would not have appreciated seeing
prisoners released en masse, or Aaron Goldsmith’s sons granted many
of the gold coins locked safely in his treasury as compense for
their parents’ untimely death. He would have been sorely distressed
to witness those same peasants set fire to his keep and stand back
silently to watch it burn.

He certainly would not have been pleased to
see Niall of Malloy turn his back on Cantlecroft virtually
unscathed, though he might well have savored the shadows in that
man’s eyes.

*

Contrary to his own expectation, Niall of
Malloy was not dead.

And contrary to a small stubborn hope,
Viviane had not returned to seek him out. Niall could not help but
be disappointed, despite his own good health. He tended his duties,
retrieved his sister, her children and Monty from the dungeon, then
led them away from the chaos that had seized Cantlecroft.

“
Wowsers,” Monty declared
as they walked away from the burning of the keep. “This is like
some kind of Senso-round experience. How does this work? Where are
the projectors? It’s like almost
real
. No wonder you people
get so hooked on it!”

Majella chuckled and shook her head at his
manner, but Niall frowned. “’Tis real, Monty.”

The other man blinked, then hastened to
match his step to Niall’s. “What the hell are you talking about?
What do you mean
real
?”

“’
Tis truly happening. The
archbishop is truly dead, his keep truly burns, those peasants so
glad to see the end of him will likely have another unworthy
overlord before the year is out.” Niall sighed, feeling the world
had no promise at all. He could have used a measure of Viviane’s
cheer, but ’twas clear he was not to have it.

Perhaps she did not truly love him after
all.

Or perhaps, love was a fleeting thing for
his Viviane. Niall’s heart ached with the certainty that his love
would not be fleeting. Nay, he would cherish her memory until his
dying day.

Alone.

But Viviane was not faithless. Viviane had
pledged her love to him. Indeed, Niall’s heart still sang a little
in recollection of her words. Her ardor had shone in her eyes so
that he could not doubt her sincerity.

And Viviane was one who held her course.
Nay, if she did not return, then ’twas because she could not
return.

Though that did little to improve Niall’s
mood. Six centuries were still lodged firmly between they two and
the prospect of matters remaining that way did naught to bolster
his spirits.

Aye, he could live
decades
.

“
But, but, but,” Monty’s
words and steps faltered. He looked over his shoulder, staring back
at the keep as Niall trudged onward. “But that would mean that this
really is 1390 in Cantlecroft!”

“
Oh course ’tis that,”
Majella retorted, rolling her eyes and twitching her skirts as she
passed him. She was tired and Niall could see the truth of it. He
took her elbow and she smiled for him, letting him carry the new
babe still wrapped in Monty’s chemise. “And what of Viviane?” she
asked pertly.

Niall shrugged. “She is gone.”

“
Not dead?”

“
Nay, she fled to another
place.” Niall had a sense he should not speak overmuch of where he
had been and what had happened.

“
Is she coming back?”
Matthew demanded as he came to hang on to Niall’s
scabbard.

“
I do not think
so.”

“
So, she’s just like gone!
And I’m just like
stuck
! What is that all about?”

“
There is naught to be done
about the matter, Monty,” Niall said tiredly. “We shall all have to
become accustomed to the change.”

“’
Twill no easier for you
than for her, Niall,” Majella murmured. “That woman did not leave
by her own choice, or at least ’tis something of import keeping her
from your side. I know a smitten woman when I see one -” she shook
a finger under his nose with affection “- not to mention a smitten
man.”

Niall could not smile, even at his sister’s
teasing. He wanted only to leave this place behind them. His knee
ached with vigor and it seemed that Dame Fortune had not smiled
overmuch on him this day.

“
But this is all
impossible!” Monty cried. “It’s nuts. It can’t be
1390…”

“’
Tis not impossible if
’tis obviously so,” Majella snapped. She rolled her eyes and gave
Niall’s elbow a squeeze. Monty muttered behind them, but neither
spared him much notice.

He would come to terms with his fate, Niall
guessed. ’Twas regrettable that Monty had not been able to return
to his own time with Viviane, but what was done was done.

And there was naught
he
could do
about it. Aye, his life was a failure from one end to the
other.

“
Where is it we are going?”
Majella asked.

“
I do not know. Away. As
far as possible.”

“
Hmm. If we continue on to
Ledworth, which is just along the way a bit, there is a friend of
mine who might see his way to lending us a chamber or
two.”

“
A
friend
?” Niall
could not help but ask, his tone chilly. “What manner of
friend?”

“
Exactly the manner of
friend
you are thinking,” his sister declared, her tone so
surprisingly sharp that he glanced her way. Her eyes were snapping.
“In all honesty, Niall, how many choices do you believe that I have
had?”