Warrior's Lady (29 page)

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Authors: Gerri Russell

BOOK: Warrior's Lady
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He withdrew a square of linen from the folds of his gown as a wave of heat swamped him. He stepped back, away from the hearth. The fire seemed more intense today than it had yesterday. He blotted the beads of perspiration that dotted his brow.

But succeed he would once he finally got the girl and the Stone away from the Lockharts.

His thoughts shifted to his mother's disease-ravaged body in the room down the hall. "How can You torment my mother with illness?" he asked the powers above, then flinched at the sign of his own weakness. He knew God brought illness to his home to remind him of man's fragility.

Sickness brought pain and burning. And just as nothing purifies gold like fire, nothing cleanses the soul like illness.

He wiped more perspiration from his brow and released a bittersweet sigh. He suffered the same fate as his mother. The remedy had always been patience and fortitude. "I will not fail You," he whispered to his master. "I will possess that Stone, and with the little girl's help I will once again be in Your favor."

He moved away from the fire. It was time to set his plan in motion. "Billings!" the bishop shouted for his chamberlain, as he adjusted the collar of his gown to allow for more airflow.

A moment later, his pale-faced servant arrived in the doorway. "Your Grace."

"See that my horse is brought around to the front door. Ask the warriors I hired to meet me there fully armed in less than a quarter hour. You will remain here and prepare the chamber next to Mother's for our future guest."

"Aye, Your Grace." He bowed once more before leaving.

The bishop leaned back against the wall of his study and crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling the need for support in order to remain upright.

He'd be seen as a man of miracles before the day was through.

 

The warrior who'd had black boils covering his body died less than a quarter of an hour later. In the moments after Camden had left Rhiannon, the man had experienced such agony that she was grateful when death finally took him. She closed the man's pain-filled eyes one last time before she sat back, numbed by the experience.

How had this monstrous plague ended up here? Would they all be destroyed? Or was it too much to hope that the Charm Stone could save them all? She had seen its healing powers with Rhys's wounds, Charlotte's baby, and her own burns.

Rhiannon closed her eyes, fighting back both terror and tears as she said a prayer that the Charm Stone would provide a cure for them soon — before anyone else died. 

 

Orrin arrived at the cottage just as the bishop's horse was starting forward, leading a contingent of armed men.

"Stop!" he cried, and wheeled his horse in front of the procession of soldiers. "I have what you want, Bishop." Orrin might be betraying his best friend, but he hoped to avoid further bloodshed at Lee Castle.

The bishop stepped down from his horse, and Orrin dismounted as well. "You are dismissed for now," the bishop told his army.

"Come," the bishop commanded with a wave of his hand, moving back to the cottage. He seemed to weave a little as he walked. Orrin frowned. The man appeared drunk, yet his eyes remained clear and he did not smell of mead or ale.

Bishop Berwick led them to a dainty, feminine chamber. He appeared out of place in the room in his stark green robes and mitered hat.

Once they were alone, the bishop turned to Orrin, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Where is the Stone?"

Orrin hesitated. Could he do this?

He forced away the pain that tightened his chest. Giving the bishop the Stone was the only way to guarantee that Camden and those he loved stayed safe. His friend had lost too much in the past few weeks. Orrin would not stand by and watch the torture continue.

He held the Stone out to the bishop. "I'll have you swear on the insignia of your office that you will never harm Camden Lockhart or any of his relations ever again."

"You have my word as a guardian of the Church." The bishop snatched the Stone away. An odd light filled the bishop's eyes as he stared into the bloodred Stone at the center of the coin. "How does it work?"

Orrin explained the simple process of preparing the healing water with the Stone.

"That's it?" The bishop frowned. He withdrew a square of linen from his robes and dabbed at his brow. "I do not need the girl to perform the deed?"

"Nay," Orrin replied, knowing it was a lie. He might be willing to sacrifice the Charm Stone, but he would never hand that child over to the bishop. As soon as he returned to the castle, he would persuade Camden to send Lady Violet far away, out of the bishop's reach before the man realized he needed her. "And now that you possess the Stone, you will leave the child alone."

"I swear it," the bishop said distractedly.

Silence filled the chamber and Orrin could practically hear the mental cogs turning in the bishop's head as he gazed upon the Stone, as though possessed by a force outside himself.

"I'll hold you to your promise," Orrin vowed as he left the chamber. He had to return to Lee Castle, and confess to Camden what he had done and why. Even though his motives were pure, the knot in his chest still felt a lot like betrayal.

 

The bishop wasted no time in using the Stone to prepare a cup of water for his mother. The sooner she got better, the sooner he could spread the word of a miracle.

Should he call all the servants to him? Miracles needed an audience for believability. The Bishop tucked the Charm Stone inside the folds of his robes and hurried to his mother's chamber. At the door he hesitated. What if the Stone's magic did not work?

Perhaps it was best to administer the miracle without a crowd. His mother's maid would be with him. That would be enough for now. And when it did work, he could cure anyone of whatever ailed them. At the thought, he laughed, bringing the maid's attention to the door.

He was invincible.

Open boils now dotted his mother's face, arms, and body. The Stone had better work, and quickly.

He moved to the bedside. "Allow me to sit beside her," he asked the young maid at his mother's bedside.

The girl staggered away from the bedside and the bishop noted for the first time that she had grown pale and her eyes appeared glassy. Perhaps he had best prepare a mug of tonic for her after his mother was healed.

He teased the liquid between his mother's lips. Unsettling thoughts tugged at his mind. The use of the Stone was so simple. He dipped the amulet into the liquid three times, then swirled it to the right. No magic words, no incantations. No witchcraft. The unwelcome thought took root in his brain and refused to go away.

Lady Clara Lockhart had done nothing to deserve the end he had given her. Her daughter would have fallen into the same trap once the Church council arrived. Except he'd made a promise to Lockhart's man Orrin to retract his charge of witchcraft and let the young girl go free. He'd made that promise, but it was one he had no intention of keeping.

The bishop scowled down at his mother's withered body. How long ago was it now that Robert the Bruce had knighted Sir Simon Lockhart for his loyal service while he himself was granted nothing for his service? Fifty years, maybe more?

The slight had eaten at his soul for years as he'd had to endure his mother's censure. Only by advancing within the Church had she found him worthy of her attentions once again.

Yet for him the bitterness remained. Until he'd joined forces with Malcolm Ruthven. A man who had just as much hatred for the Lockharts. Together, they had nearly brought that entire family to its knees.

Only Lord Camden Lockhart and Lady Violet remained. The bishop clasped the Charm Stone in his palm, allowing the cool metal of the coin to warm in his hand. The Stone was his, along with its miraculous powers.

Warmth flowed from the bishop's hand up his arm and throughout the rest of his body. He swayed slightly in the chair beside his mother's bed. He gripped the bedding to steady himself, then tucked the Stone safely away in the folds of his robe. Revenge was a powerful elixir, draining him of strength at his moment of triumph.

Everything was in place for the Church council to finish what he had set in motion. Soon Lord Camden Lockhart and Lady Violet would pay for the slight Berwick had received at the hand of the king. Another wave of exhaustion suddenly over took him. Beads of moisture formed at his temples and the room swayed before his eyes.

He grasped the doorjamb, steadying himself. He needed to rest. He took a hesitant step toward a chair when the room whirled, blurred before his eyes. He swayed, then hurtled into a dark abyss.

 

"Violet, where's Orrin?" Camden asked when he found his niece in her chamber, playing happily alongside one of the servant's children. A maid sat quietly in the corner of the room, sewing as she kept an eye on the two girls.

"Look, Uncle Camden, Mistress Faulkner made me a doll," Violet said with animation as she held up a wooden figure dressed in muslin and lace.

"That's very nice," he said distractedly. "Orrin didn't come to get you?"

His niece paused in making the doll dance. The joy in her eyes dimmed. "Why would he come to get me? Is something wrong?"

Camden forced a smile. "Nothing to worry about. We were merely checking up on you. I can see that you are enjoying time with your new friend."

He waited until she returned to her play before he motioned for the maid to draw near. She set her needle aside and came forward. Camden held up his hand, halting her progress, before she reached the door. In a low voice he said, "Keep the girls in this room."

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. "As you wish, milord."

His frown deepened at her words. Nothing in his life was presently "as he wished." Suddenly the nursery was too warm, the laughter of the girls too loud, and the walls a little too close.

Needing escape, he left the chamber and headed out of the keep. He had to find Orrin and the Stone.

 

An hour later Orrin slammed the door to the great hall behind him. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he leaned back against the door. Dear God in heaven, he hoped he had done the right thing.

Camden would be furious. But Camden's anger he could handle. The pain and agony that the bishop continued to cause all of them, he had no tolerance for.

Orrin withdrew from his sporran the letter that had prompted his rash actions. The missive was addressed to Camden, but Orrin had broken the bishop's seal and read its contents. He closed his eyes. It was the bishop's threat, come true. The bold writing blazed across his mind.

An accusation of witchcraft. Lady Violet would be taken by him. Tried as a witch. Hanged.

"Orrin."

Orrin opened his eyes to see Camden striding toward him. He clutched the missive in his hand. He would put the very foundation of his friendship with Camden to the test this day.

He had done what he knew Camden would never do. His friend was more likely to fight those who challenged him. But even the mighty Lord Camden Lockhart could not take on the entire Church and win.

Orrin straightened grimly.

"Where have you been?" Camden asked. Relief filled his blue eyes.

The relief would fade in a heartbeat. "I've been to see Bishop Berwick."

"Whatever for?"

Orrin swallowed his fear and thrust the letter into Camden's hand. "Because the man threatened to hang your niece as a witch."

Camden stared at him, his eyes wild in his white face.

"I knew you would never allow Lady Violet to hang, so I offered the bishop a compromise."

Camden's eyes darkened. "What kind of compromise?"

Orrin felt his blood run cold beneath Camden's sharp appraisal. "I gave him the Charm Stone."

Camden's gaze shifted to disbelief. "The Stone is gone?"

"Aye." Orrin couldn't stand to see the hurt, the betrayal so clearly stamped upon his friend's features. "And now that he has the Stone, we must hurry to get Lady Violet away from here before he discovers that the Stone needs a Lockhart to release its magic."

"I expected loyalty from you, Orrin." Camden's voice was low and sharp as steel. "Above everyone else, I had expected you to stand by me."

"I wanted to help you. Without the Stone there was no further reason for the bishop to press his accusations. I did not want Lady Violet to die like her mother. The bishop promised to leave you and Lady Violet alone."

Camden frowned. "You expect honesty from the man who hanged an innocent woman?"

Orrin's eyes widened with horror. "What have I done?" he said mostly to himself.

"Without that Stone, we are doomed." Camden's harsh words echoed in the chamber, bringing all eyes to the two of them.

"Why? What has happened in my absence?"

Camden grasped Orrin by the arm and dragged him off to a less public corner. "The plague has spread to Lee Castle. It is only a matter of time before it consumes us all unless we use the Stone to heal ourselves."

"Plague." Fear tightened Orrin's gut. "Are you certain?"

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