Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) Read online

  "Do you recall anything of our time together?" he asked, unable to contain his eagerness.

  To his disappointment, she shook her head.

  "Near the end of a hot, blistering summer, I awoke one morning, and there you were."

  "Someone who appeared to be me."

  "You," he said. "I have no doubt it was you."

  "Go on."

  "You lay in my bed beside me. Needless to say I was intrigued. You were full of laughter and light, a beacon on my ship for those seven days and nights."

  Iliana frowned. "Nay, you have me confused with another. It is a long time since I have felt capable of carefree laughter."

  "It was you." Erik insisted. He dared to reach out a hand and cup her cheek. "You alone -- with your long dark hair, lustrous upon your naked shoulders."

  She caught her breath, her hand up to her throat, and he wished it were his hand touching her delicate skin.

  "Erik Marcus Remington." She said his name as if trying it out on her tongue.

  He held his breath, hoping something would suddenly come to her memory.

  She shook her head, sadly it seemed. "There is no memory. But I begin to wish there had been one. I wish that lady had been me."

  Erik looked up at the dark sky. "I am convinced," he said. "I know it was you. I have searched --"

  She looked at him with wide eyes.

  "Yea, I have searched the seas for three years, hoping to find you." He laughed, but there was little humor. "My dark-haired sea witch. I began to think I'd been enchanted by the sea sirens, lured to the sea, endlessly searching for a woman who did not exist." His green eyes held hers. "But then I arrived here and I find you."

  "I would wish --" she shook her head, as if to dismiss that very wish. "Tell me of this vortex."

  Erik sighed. "We sailed across the ocean, through the Sargasso Sea. There were water spouts shooting from the sea up to the sky, and suddenly we were being drawn into a great whirling pool of water, a hole, if you will, that opened in the sea. We were sucked fast and somehow came out on the other side, just off the coast of England. It just is not possible to cross an ocean so quickly -- except by some supernatural force. My ship the Merry Maiden has been a faithful, sturdy ship all these years, but she brought me to the coast and there we were, chained in the water, unable to sail away. Camdork waited on the beach, his artillery ready to burn us in the water."

  "This has something to do with Mandrak's spells," she murmured.

  "Tell me about Mandrak."

  "A sorcerer bent on evil. It is said a man washed in from the sea. Badly bruised, injured and bleeding, a family found him and brought him into their home. He spoke in his delirium of witchcraft and sorcery, evil that was so black it frightened the family who had saved him. After two days of listening to his delirium as he made a pact with the devil, they loaded him into a cart in the middle of the night and took him out to the red soil hills. They left him to die, it is said, in the wasteland beyond the hills, where the soil is red and the fighter dragons have their caverns. They thought he would die, but within a week he traveled back to the village, his face frightening to those who chanced upon him. Rotted flesh on one side of his face, one eye barely clinging to the flesh. He spoke of vengeance on the family who tried to save him. Within two days four members of the family were found disemboweled, their body parts scattered along the road. The man was whispered to be a sorcerer, known as Mandrak. Tales of his evil began to grow as witches came from all over to gather with him, giving him more power, creating more fear. At first men at arms were sent to disperse their gatherings in the woods at night, but the troops either ran off or were killed. Some joined their league. It has become out of control, and Mandrak holds everyone in a grip of fear. If sorcery was involved in your arrival here, it is at Mandrak's behest. Now you will understand my hesitation in believing your tale."

  "He sounds like a man who needs to be stopped."

  "Never forget he is dangerous, whether a man or devil."

  "But now we come back to how you travel through time. Why do you think it's impossible you traveled to my time?"

  "I always remember. The many places I have seen, it is as if I am there. I see many things."

  "You walk about in these times?"

  "No, I merely see them and I experience them but I am never truly there. I am entrenched in this time." She did not hide the bitterness in her voice.

  "You are not telling me the truth, or not all of it, because I know otherwise."

  Fervently, she said, "I swear on my life I am never in these places. I merely see them, as if in a dream."

  Erik stood up, looked down at her. "But I know this is not true. I know because your presence on my ship has altered my life."

  "I would wish --" she halted, dropping her eyes from the intensity of his.

  Erik clenched his fists, helpless against the memory washing over him. "It was you," he said, "you who came to me. Even my brother knows of your arrival in my life. You came to taunt me with your dreams, your search for the green gem, then you left without a word or a backward glance."

  Iliana looked stunned. "The green gem? W-what do you know of a green gem?"

  "You had great urgency in your search for the gem. It was very important to your survival, you claimed, but then would say no more." He saw her again in his mind's eye. "When you did not find what you sought, you vanished, forgetting promises made, dreams of which we spoke. It was not your intent to keep those promises."

  She grabbed his arm. "There is nothing more I can say. I swear to you, I do not know of what you speak."

  Some of his anger abated. She really seemed to believe what she told him, but how could it be true? "Perhaps it no longer matters," he said. "It was three years ago." He looked around them. "Let us go inside, the air grows cooler."

  Iliana made a frustrated sound, but nodded. "Yes, I must go. William is often times restless. I would be with him." She moved toward the small opening in the branches, then suddenly turned and came back to him.

  "I am sorry for your pain," she said, gripping his arm with her fingers, careful to avoid the injured arm. "And I do understand your pain, and in truth I wish I was that woman you sought," she added. "I believe you are not that devil Camdork. I have seen and heard of your kindness while you have been here. I resisted believing it at first, but I have never heard of any tale of kindness about that one. But I dare not call you Erik lest I arouse suspicions."

  He bowed his head. "For now, we must continue as before."

  In an instant she leaned on her tip toes and pressed her mouth to his. Erik enfolded her into his arms, closing his eyes as she sank for just a moment against him. How long had he longed for this? And just like that, she was gone.

  Erik drew a deep breath, the scent of roses still in his nostrils. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms, and it was not enough. But for tonight, it had to be.

  ¤¤

  Ulrich watched Lady Iliana hurry across the moon-washed courtyard. He continued to sharpen his knife, and as she passed by him, her eyes met his for a fleeting moment. Even in the moonlight he could see the surprise and perhaps fear on her face. He wondered that she was about so late at night, but in truth he knew it was none of his business, though Mandrak would want to know.

  They were all here at her continued patience. He saw the pretender follow behind her, and he frowned, pausing a moment with the sharpening stone. Aye, trouble brewing there if that one thought to intrude upon Camdork's claim of the woman.

  Ulrich rose from his stump, putting aside his knife and sword, and stepped into the path of the pretender, causing him to stop.

  "Ulrich?" the pretender said. "You are on watch. Good night to you."

  "Maybe not so good a night. Why are you following the Lady Iliana?"

  "None of your business," the other man said quite pleasantly.

  Ulrich grinned, though not amused. "It is my business. I am here to make sure you remain out of trouble and do as you are b
id."

  The pretender scratched his head and looked at Ulrich. "And why would you throw your lot in with Camdork? By all accounts he is a murderer and a brutal beast who steps on all who get in his path."

  "And why should you think I am any different?" Ulrich demanded, taking a step closer.

  The pretender grinned. "Ulrich, you play the game, but I consider myself a good judge of character. You are not of the same ilk as Camdork."

  "Make no assumptions. There is much you do not know, pretender."

  "And time grows short, does it not Ulrich? I would like to know more."

  "You better remember to keep that arrogance hidden when next Camdork shows up," Ulrich muttered. "I would hate to see you killed intruding where you don't belong."

  The pretender rubbed his arm. "Oh, when does he arrive?"

  "He does not confide in me, but I see he grows impatient. He wants to claim the lady."

  "And what of his penchant for murdering young women -- do you condone such deeds? Do you know anything about that?"

  Ulrich picked up his knife and resumed the sharpening. "You had best worry for yourself instead of thinking of the peasants."

  "He will discard you just as easily as he would me," the pretender said. "Never forget that."

  "Ach, be off with you." But Ulrich knew the truth in his words.

  "Or perhaps Camdork will tire of this pretence and let Mandrak do his own dirty work."

  Ulrich felt a tightening across his shoulders. Quickly, he looked around them. "By all the saints, silence yourself before you get both of us killed."

  "So is Mandrak's influence so wide he can see and hear everything?" the pretender asked. "He has your ears attuned to talk of his misdeeds."

  "I bow down before no man."

  "Perhaps," the pretender mused, "Mandrak is not a man. I've heard he's the spawn of the devil. I relish meeting him. I will stop his threatening these people."

  Ulrich backed away from him. "You are a dead man to speak like that. Be gone."

  "Mark my words, I will meet Mandrak. He has to stop scuttling about at some point. How can you instill fear if you hide away like a fainthearted maiden?"

  "You are mad. You have no idea of what you speak."

  "Of course I do. He's a bully, nothing more."

  "Yea," Ulrich resumed his seat on the stump. "Let me remind you of your words when he turns your innards to your outers."

  The pretender merely smiled in the torchlight. "Innards to outers. I will remember that. Thank you, Ulrich. I bid you good night."

  Ulrich remained silent.

  As the pretender walked away with a lift in his step, Ulrich shook his head and muttered a short prayer of protection. One did not make sport of the sorcerer. If the pretender thought Camdork a murdering beast, he better hoped he never got his wish to meet Mandrak.

  ¤¤

  Iliana gently placed the last emerald in its square filigree setting, then carefully attached a pearl to the bottom point, sitting back to look at the effect of emerald chips and garnets in the lovely delicate brooch. The piece was quite pleasing to the eye, the gems catching the light and winking at her. It was not often she had time to create a piece of jewelry, but she'd awakened early this morning with dreams disturbing her all night long, and she'd know she needed protection from the evil swirling so heavily about the keep. Beside the brooch was a smaller replica that she had fashioned for William. She pulled her mantle about her shoulders, shivering as the wind whistled through the walls, the draft along the floor making her legs feel like ice. The month of May was devilishly cold, how could she weather another bitter season in this cold, drafty place, but what choice was there?

  She straightened from her workbench, rubbing the chill flesh of her legs. If the chill continued, she would have a fire in her chamber tonight.

  Iliana stared at her life tapestry on the wall, confused by the scarlet hues the usually golden tapestry had taken upon itself. The tapestry had been like that for two days, ever since the night she had met Camdork -- no, she corrected herself -- Erik in the sacred circle.

  She thought of him continuously in the intervening days, her emotions warring between confusion and anger. What if he lied to her and was practicing his own clever deceit? Could he really be a time traveler? It was all so confusing. He claimed she had visited his time three years before and yet she had no recall. She longed for it to be true, because she was beginning to see the man he could be. But what if what he claimed was merely a sorcerer's trick? But why would the sorcerer concern himself with her? She healed with gemstones those who came to her; surely she was no threat to him?

  Iliana shivered. Some said Mandrak was even more wicked than Camdork, and she knew with certainty Camdork had blood on his hands.

  And what of Erik? If what he said was true, then when he left he would help her and William escape this place. He had come here for the woman he loved. She wished she was that woman.

  Iliana could never forget the green gem, the priceless treasure that was her mission to find. She was selfish to think only of herself, but now there was William. She could not risk his life. But what if the way through time did not allow William to pass? He had been born in this world, while she -- she did not know her roots. Her early life was something that remained hidden to her own life tapestry.

  And how would she find the green gem? It had been three years or more she searched for a treasure which remained elusive. She had searched other worlds, other times, but there had been no clues, nothing to show her efforts were leading her closer. And what if she failed? Would she and the people in this world disappear?

  A knock on her door made Iliana jump. She pressed a hand to her heart, letting it calm before she called out, "Come."

  The door opened and Erik strode inside. "It is a fair brisk day. Would you care to go riding?"

  "Riding?" she asked.

  He hesitated. "I assumed you rode. I never thought to ask you before."

  "I ride," she said, laughing at the doubtful look on his face. "Of course I do. I was surprised when you suddenly show up and ask me to go riding."

  "Come with me," he said, holding out a large hand invitingly. "Surely it is a good idea if it brought a smile to your face?"

  Without thinking, Iliana rose, placed her hand in his. His hand closed around hers, gently pulled her closer.

  "Where is the little one?" he asked, looking around the small room.

  "Rowenna has care of William today," she said. "It is laundry day and he amuses himself with the other children in her care."

  "So he is well occupied. Do you have time to come riding? I am hoping you will say yes."

  "Then, yes, I do," she said. "But I must change."

  "Then please do so." Iliana stared into his eyes, bright and green, and filled with...kindness?

  His brow went up at she continued to stare. "Iliana? Do I have mud on my face?" he rubbed a hand briskly over his chin stubble. "Ah, I neglected to shave this morn. I apologize for coming to you a ruffian with whiskers."

  "I do not mind it," she said, clearing her throat. She was suddenly filled with heat, noticing his attractiveness. She had seen the same face before, but she had thought of him only as Camdork or the beast, not as an attractive blond haired, green-eyed man. A man who claimed to have searched for her through time.

  "I am seeing you differently," she said. "I no longer see him, but now I see you -- Erik."

  "And do you remember?" he asked quietly. "Have you remembered?"

  She put up a hand. "No."

  Some of the sparkle extinguished in his eyes.

  "I am sorry I cannot remember the time of which you speak." What if she never remembered? What if it was another woman who had come to him?

  "Hopefully it will come in time."

  "There are other places in memory I cannot recall." She looked up at him. "Even the life tapestry has hidden those times from me."

  Erik frowned. "Who controls the life tapestry?"

  "I do not know. Ea
ch day a new scene is woven."

  "And every person has a life tapestry?"

  "Yes. Surely you have yours?"

  "I am not from this time, remember, so perhaps I do not have one."

  "Sorenta said you have one. Where did she say it would be found?"

  "Under the dragon, though I have no idea where that might be."

  Iliana suddenly grabbed his sleeve. "Quickly, come with me. There is a wer-dragon tapestry in the great hall. Surely you have seen it."

  She led the way through the tower room, down the stairs and into the great hall. She stopped in front of the wer-dragon tapestry in the great hall area.

  "I see this each time I sit at this table," he confirmed, "but I did not think she meant this dragon. There is nothing here," he added, looking at the wall under the dragon.

  "I was certain --" Iliana lifted the heavy tapestry and stared at the stone wall on which it hung. "I was so certain this must be the dragon of which she spoke."

  "Surely it does not matter if I have a life tapestry?"

  "Of course it is important," she said quickly. "If you do not have a life tapestry, you are dead." She frowned. "Or dead inside."

  "Iliana," he said gently, turning her to face him. "I am not from this time. I do not have one because I do not exist here."

  She pressed her lips together, staring at him, ready to tell him he was wrong, but then she looked around. "We cannot talk of this now," she whispered.

  "Then let us go riding," he said, smiling.

  Iliana nodded. "Yes. I must change, and then I will join you."

  ¤¤

  Ulrich rode behind them as they left the stables. The man looked as dark and glum as usual, but Erik had to wonder if he were there to spy on them, or was he there for their protection. As they rode along the edge of the woods, Erik felt as if they were being watched from within the thick dark woods. He wondered if Camdork hid in the forest. Erik flexed his arm, the new skin over the wound feeling slightly stiff. The powder Sorenta had given him for the arm had healed the flesh quicker than any tonic he had ever seen before. He had to wonder if Camdork's broken hand had healed as fast.

  "Come, Iliana. I do not trust this densely wooded area. The trees themselves might have ears."