Part X

© Copyright 2004 by Elizabeth Delayne

In the light of the full moon, the structure looked ramshackle at best. A peasant's dwelling, with more attention paid to the barn then to the home.

As night fell, Alex slowly rounded the clearing again and again. He found two well traveled paths, a plot of land, only half plowed. He'd passed over a small row of unmarked graves—the mounds of dirt fresh. The homes former occupants, he guessed as he stood over them and lifted a prayer for peace in the land he'd known.

He had ridden past what he thought was Billingdor's lands, though he wasn't sure to whom the land belonged. If it was a follower of Fowler, why would murdering the occupants be necessary? Battle had been waged here. There were signs; an axe alone in the ground, an arrow in a tree. He could hear the horses housed in the small stone stable. More than simple peasants could afford.

Standing at the edge of the forest, Alex watched. He needed to know the numbers on the inside; he needed to know if one of them was Lila.

Lila … for a precious moment he indulged himself in the thought of her. He could almost see her streaming black hair, her luminous green eyes. He could almost hear the soft whisper of her voice.

He closed his eyes, held out his hand, and wished her presence near.

It wasn't enough. He was driving himself mad. If he didn't find her soon, surely that was the road he would head down. Madness …

Protect her, Mighty Father. You know my enemies. You know who moves in wicked ways. You alone cast your shadow across this land. Protect Lila. Protect all that is good. Lead us unto victory … for the option of defeat is … darkness.

In the distance, he heard the approach of a rider. He slipped further into the shadows and watched the path.

Not careful, Alex surmised. Whoever it was thought victory was at hand, rode without thought of sound-or cared not.

The figure emerged at full gallop from the forest, not five lengths of the sword away, a cape flowing from the form.

A man, Alex realized as the figure slid from the horse, dressed as a royal.

William.

He would have recognized that figure anywhere. Alex put his hand to the hilt of his sword and prayed for patience.

The door opened and a moment later a woman, with flowing golden hair, flew into his arms.

So this was the hidden woman that William used Sara for, Alex realized. He stepped back further into the woods, knowing he was now in the blonde's view-though hidden.

She didn't seem to think much of anything as she wrapped herself up in William.

Was this the woman the soldier had told him about-not Lila, but William's woman? Alex dealt with the feelings. He would have to get back and inform Billingdor. If this was William's hideout, then this was also a center of battle. If this woman was William's, then this woman held power. If this was not where Lila awaited, then he would use it to find her.

As the door shut behind William and the golden haired woman, Alex slipped back into the forest, carefully rounding the clearing. He needed answers and fast. If only he could get close enough to hear inside.

Then he saw the movement, a dash from the rear.

He quickened his pace and followed.

His heart hammered when he saw the shadow of skirts.

The dark hair.

And in the darkness, hidden in the forest, he whispered.

"Lila."



Sara stumbled and felt the tears sting. Oh, she was tired. Weary of travel, of darkness. If they survived this time, she would never stay indoors, rain or shine. She missed blue sky. She missed the patter of rain. The missed the dark growl of thunder.

And most of all, she missed the light in Percy's eyes.

Oh, how he hated her now. If only she could go back and not have done … not have allowed the desperation to overwhelm her so. The weight of the coins in her pack seemed to weigh it down. She'd grabbed them, thinking that if something happened, she could escape. She had nowhere to go, no one to run to, and now … she didn't even have the friendship of her companions.

How could she turn to Ashton, to Brock, when she had turned on one of their own?

"Look-"

It was Ashton's quiet voice that drew Sarah's eyes to the tunnel. Up ahead, in the shadows of Brock's torch, was an opening. Brock stopped, held out a hand. Ashton moved with Sara to the wall and leaned against it.

Brock moved forward on his own, taking the light with him. Percy stepped forward to the opening and stopped. Moments later, Brock returned. Silently, Percy slid off his pack and retrieved one of their last torches. He held it out to Brock's.

He turned, his eyes finding Ashton's first, then Sara's.

"Stay," he whispered. "We will check out the tunnels to see what activity has been here.

They disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sara and Ashton in the dark.

"Rest," Ashton murmured, pushing Percy's pack up against her. "They will check the corridors thoroughly. When they come back we must be our strongest."

Sara shifted until she lay her head against Percy's pack and closed her eyes. It had his scent. How precious, she thought, it was to her ... though she had never reveled in it until now.

William had always carried the scent of the finest perfumes and oils. He's given her, at first, such lavish gifts from the east. She'd thought foolishly of it as a measure of his love.

Now she was ragged and worn, desperate for the soothing feel of water. She had nothing of her own, save her sanity if one could claim such. The only thing she had worth ... anything to the common man was a sack full of golden coins.

Stolen coins.

Coins that had been precious to Percy's father, not because of their material worth, but because of the places they represented. Was it possible that they would survive this ordeal, and if they did ... and she hadn't taken from him, that he would have told her the stories of those far off lands? Stories that brought such delight to even Percy's eyes?

Delight, that had helped her forget the pain and the regrets. Delight that had helped her remember that there were things beyond the dark days of knowing William. She'd helped betray a friend. She'd lost part of herself. She knew now that outside of the luxury of her family home were darker things then she'd known within.

Percy didn't know, he couldn't understand what was inside of her. What she knew awaited her in life. She had no home, no fortune, no family.

No one.

She pushed herself up, away from his pack. And swallowed. The darkness was suddenly so overpowering. How had she made it this far?

"Ashton?" she whispered, suddenly needing to share her fears, question aloud the secret haunts of her mind.

But Ashton must have slipped into sleep. Where she should be. Where dreams would chase her.

She curled her legs up tight against her and felt the shakes. Images, memories cascaded through her mind. Eyes open or closed they followed her.

She shrank back, burrowed into Percy's pack and fought the desire to slip away, past the darkness. Instead, she held onto sanity and reached for her own pack. Quietly, she opened it and dug through, closing her hand over the velvet pouch.

At least, in this one act, she could find comfort.



"It is you."

They'd ridden forever. She'd held on, listening over and over to the memory of her name on his lips. She'd been lifted, dragged to a horse.

Though part of her had moved to fight, another, weary side of her had relented.

But still another had grasped to the sound, to the knowledge.

And though they couldn't speak, she'd held on as he'd carried her away. It was him. It was her Alex.

Now, her legs trembling beneath her, she stood on her own and stared up into his dear face. She reached up a trembling hand, even as he reached to draw her close.

"Lila."

"You found me."

She'd run from the horrid little room where Catherine had muttered such words. Escaped from the horror. All she could think about was fleeing. Where, how ... the desperation had only begun to sink in as she reached the woods.

She'd offered a desperate prayer.

Then she'd heard her name, and was lifted in his arms.

"I'll never forget the sight of you running under the moonlight," he held her face with both hands and studied her with his dark eyes. "You're so beautiful. Brilliant and beautiful."

"The wall gave way," she murmured and leaned into him. She felt his lips on her hair. How she must look to him! "There's so much ... she said and I was ... and then—"

"You don't have to tell me tonight."

For a moment, she held him, sought his heart beat. "You're real. I was so afraid that all I had left was an image. It was fading, far too quickly."

"I was going mad."

"Lila?"

The sound of the familiar bellow had Lila spinning in Alex's arms, then dashing for her uncle. The big knight lifted her, swung her in his arms and then held her close, her feet not touching the ground.

"You are safe. Home." He looked across at Alex. "You brought her back to me."

"We have much to be thankful for." Alex murmured, and because both of them were loath to let her go, they walked back into the castle with her in between.

"I'm home," she said, looking not at the castle walls, but at the men who flanked her sides. She grasped at their hands even as her own trembled. "And I so want to enjoy it ... but I am weary."

Her uncle ran a gentle hand over her tangled mass of dark hair. "You are home. I'll send for a maid to help you."

"Ashton?"

"She rode to London with Brock. Percy went and retrieved Sara from Galladin then took her to his home, their intention was to get out of London with her. William was not what we, what she thought."

"She knew." Lila murmured. "It was in her eyes. She realized what was happening even as it begun."

Alex's face hardened. "Then she will be punished for her sins."

"No ... no—" Lila turned to him, held a hand against his chest. Strong and sure his heart beat. "Alex—she was used, I am sure of it. The Sara that came to castle Billingdor was not the Sara that had loved life in our childhood, dare I say the Sara that had been before William. I need to see her."

Blakely stepped up to his niece, held a hand to her back, directing her to the stairs where a servant waited. "They are heading back here for safety. Rest now, my darling. We will seek answers in the morning."



Alex watched Lila ascend the stairs, his hands closing into fists. He wanted to run after her, to not let her leave his sight.

"She is weary."

He looked at Blakely and for a moment fought against the overwhelming frustration. He wanted to argue, but he was not sure over what. She'd begged him to marry her, he remembered. He should have. He should have, was all he could think.

The older knight held out at hand to Alex and ushered him into the great hall. "Tell me what you encountered."

It was the next step, Alex knew, but duty waged a war against need—helpless need. So he concentrated as he had been taught, and gave the details Blakely would want—not as Lila's Uncle, but as a protector of the kingdom.

"It wasn't so far—just beyong the Weller's pass. They were hiding out in a peasants dwelling, though there were few, not an army as you would expect." Alex dropped down onto the seat Blakely offered him in front of the large stone fireplace. He was brought food and drink as he told of the surroundings, of William arriving. He started to tell of the golden haired woman who'd greeted William, when a runner entered the great hall.

"A message, my lord," he said and bowed as he handed the folded parchment over to Blakely. The lord glanced at it, then lifted his eyes to Alex's.

"It is from Arthur. Fowler and Greenburough's armies are headed this way." He looked toward the runner and gave him quick instructions. Arthur and the armies of the king were to come. The battle would be where they chose, not the other way around.

The man quickly left. The doors were shut behind him.

Alone in the room with Billingdor, Alex paced to the fire. He stared into the flames. "They know we brought Lila here-or will before they get too much closer. I should have known—they would come for her here."

Billingdor waved a hand. "They come for the forest, as they've always planned. If they get through, they get to the castle, to the king."

Alex turned and looked in the direction where Lila had gone. He needed to see her one last time—and again tomorrow and the day following.

And yet, his duty called him on.

"I should ride for the castle. We'll have to redirect forces."

"No—"

"Excuse me?" Alex turned and looked at the knight. For the first time he saw the violent strength in the gentle giant Lila adored.

"We protect from here, protect the knowledge of the king's forest."

"But the king—"

"The king brought this on himself. I was charged by his father to protect the secret, not the king himself. Go if you must."

"If I stay," Alex said slowly, "I'll know why. You have become more than an ally Blakely of Billingdor."

For a moment, Alex feared the wrath of the Black Knight would fall on his shoulders. He watched the fire burn in his eyes, dark and vivid with violent.

Then, as if weary, the large man dropped into his own seat. "What I am to tell you must never leave this room."

"I swear on my honor."

"Then that is enough."

Blakely looked into the fire and watched the flames dance. Alex sat back down and forced down the questions. He was sitting in the chamber of an honorable Knight. He could not question that, for it was something he knew with his own soul.

So he would wait, and allow Blakely of Billingdor time to sort out what words that had rarely been spoken.

"Long ago," he began finally, "I served a fair and honorable king. We were friends, kindred spirits as one might say. When my brother fell for the king's sister, I was able to convince him that it was a good match for the kingdom—and seeing them together was worth this role I play. I am a monster, you see."

"Not to those that know you."

"And few do. It is a lonely life, one that you might have fallen into if not for these dark days. For generations our first role was as companion to the king, guardian of his secrets. And kings, rulers have them. Some would like to know, some believe they should. But in the end what is entrusted must be trusted. That friendship was essential. And I believed, as the long line behind me believed, that the man I served was worth serving."

His voice faded, showing that he now doubted his word-or maybe wondered if he should doubt.

"But as all men, he had his weaknesses. Women. He had all the women of his land he desired, and saw no retribution as David did after falling for Bathsheba—or, he saw no retribution that he lived to face. He took his women and he took whom he wanted."

"One of those women he claimed was Lady Fowler. He sired two children, or claimed to, when she died in childbirth after the second child was born. Fowler was furious. He claimed the children were his and that his wife had never been unfaithful to him. There was a big show in the castle court and the king took them both away and gave one to his sister who was married into the house of Greenburough and another to my brother at Arlington."

"The one in my brother's care was the youngest of the two and had been an ill child since his mother's passing. The childbirth was hard. He never had a chance. He died within weeks. Fowler's anger darkened. We believed, at the time, he was raiding the countryside, moving closer and closer to Arlington so was Lila hidden and plans were made to bring her here."

"Meanwhile, his son, our present king, was spoiled, impatient with his father's long life. Impatient to be king. He lived a life much like his father's, but without the fairness and duty that his father felt toward the kingdom. He met with Fowler in secret. They made their alliance."

"The king?" Alex stood to his feet and stared at Billingdor. "Edward and Fowler?"

Alex thought of the man he'd been sworn to protect. Yes, there were many times he'd protected the king from his philandering with women. More than once Alex had stood in the way of an angry man who'd found out the kings ... indiscretions.

"From the time I entered his service," Alex said slowly, "we have worked to find Fowler, to destroy him. It has been the king's most ardent wish."

"And so you have," Blakely said simply. "Choices were made, and alliances were broken. On that dark night long ago, Fowler invaded Arlington and finding not his son, murdered my brother and the sister of the king. That same night, the king was killed, though Edward feigned surprised and immediately turned on Fowler. He hadn't expected the death of his aunt to be on his conscience. Galladin was attacked as well. William's father held them off. It was William's grandfather who stepped in and turned over the girl. A golden haired beauty named Catherine."

"Then that was ..."

Blakely nodded and stood to pace.

"This alliance has been long in the making. William has known of Catherine his whole life, knew her as a young girl. I had hoped when I learned of his engagement to the young Sara that he had taken after his father as Arthur has done. And it was said that the rift between William and Arthur was over. So I let Lila leave with Sara that morning. I let them both back into Fowler's web."

"You let Lila go to London that night. Of the ball."

"Can you regret that choice?" Blakely asked. "Would you have met her, have found her heart for your own if she had stayed within these walls? Fowler was often in London. And so was his daughter. You think you would have known? Fowler would have been caught by now if your king had not held his closest guardians so close."

He ran his large hands over his face, rubbing at the weariness. "She had begun to spend long hours in that tower over the lake, wishing, but unable to share those wishes. She never questioned, never asked, and never wanted to leave. I realized, one day, as I looked up at her in her tower that she would one day be as alone as I have been ... and when I died, she would have no home to call her own."

Alex remembered that morning he'd found Lila standing in the tower, looking over the lake. She'd told him of her parents, he remembered, and how her father had loved her mother. Even then, he'd seen the secret wish in her eyes.

How could he fault her uncle for attempting to give her what Alex had wanted to give her in that moment?

But even as he understood the part, he didn't understand the whole. "You never questioned the king. You've stayed in his service."

"And who would have supported me with such allegations? The Black Knight? The most feared man in the kingdom? The king knows I know," Blakely turned and met Alex's gaze, the fire back within his own. "He removed the others from his court when they would not tell him the secret I guard. Percy's father. William's father. We serve not him, but the secrets his father instructed us with. And that is what I protect."

"And what is the secret?"

A knock sounded on the doors of the great hall. Arthur had come. It was time to make plans.

With one last look at Alex, Blakely went forth.

HEY! and don't forget to e-mail me if you have a comment!





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