"You have come to find her."
Erik turned to the voice behind him, his eyes piercing the shadows as he stepped inside the keep archway. He was slipping, he thought grimly, letting Iliana distract his thoughts. He was irritated with himself and his dangerous preoccupation. There was no place in this world for distraction, it would get him killed.
"Who's there?"
A small woman in black shuffled forward, detaching herself from the darkness of the wall. She lifted her face to him, a thin beak of a nose prominent, lips drawn back from toothless gums. Dark eyes in a shrunken skull seemed to regard him with a spark of amusement.
"I am Sorenta. I serve here and sometimes I advise the Lady Iliana." She nodded. "I knew you would come."
At the moment, willing to play his part, Erik said, "It's common knowledge my men at arms and I were to come."
She laughed and it caused a shiver to run down his back. Annoyed with himself, Erik said, "Tell me what you know of Iliana?"
She turned the question back on him. "What do you know of her?"
"Leave me if you are intent only on riddles."
"You are a man fascinated by riddles," she observed. "Look in your heart, where you love a challenge. You wanted to find her and so you have."
"Iliana."
"She is here, and yet she is not."
"I see her in flesh and blood."
"This history writes itself each day. You are here for now."
"And what do you know of my arrival?" he asked, wary of revealing any information.
"How you arrived is how you will leave. But you will leave something you once loved dearly behind. And you will take with you something that you never knew was yours."
"You think you know who I am," Erik said.
Her dark eyes opened wide. "You are the key to the treasure. You must claim your life tapestry before it is tainted," the old woman added, turning to leave.
"Where will I find it?" he asked curiously.
"Under the dragon."
"Where the devil is that?"
She was there one moment and gone in the next.
Erik moved to where she had stood and ran his palms along the walls. He pushed against the cold stone in several places, but to no avail. How could that woman disappear even while he watched? But then he remembered how his brother Darien and his love Elise had dissolved before his eyes. That was almost a year ago and he had not seen them since.
He pondered the words she had spoken. Edward, the lad he had met in the bailey earlier that morning, came toward him.
"My Lord?" the boy queried, his face concerned as he observed Erik pushing against the seemingly impenetrable stone walls. With a rueful grimace, Erik straightened from the wall.
"There was an old woman here, Sorenta. While we spoke, she disappeared in an instant."
The boy nodded, his face losing its concerned look. "Yes, my lord. She comes and goes. No one is quite sure in what manner."
"She just disappears?"
"It would appear so, my lord. We are all familiar with her. I imagine it is strange for one such as yourself upon the first meeting."
"One such as myself?"
The boy bit his lip and looked down. "That is, someone new to Dutton Keep." His voice was low as he met Erik's eyes again, his body held stiffly erect. "She does not usually show herself to those living outside these walls."
"But lad," Erik said softly, "I now live within these walls."
"Yes, that you do," the boy agreed quickly. "Mistress Iliana sent me to tell you the meal is prepared and they await your presence."
Erik turned to follow the boy through the great hall. "I think perhaps mistress Iliana would not mind if you did not find me at all."
The boy looked uncomfortable, then looked up at Erik and blurted. "In truth, I expected you to be out in the courtyard with your men at arms. I did not expect to find you at once within."
"Ah, so clever Iliana sent you to search where she expected me not to be?"
The boy didn't respond, but no reply was needed.
Erik followed the boy down the corridor toward the great hall, studying everything around him. Despite the stone, the walls had been made quite comfortable with tapestry hangings, and he assumed none of them were life tapestries but instead appeared to be scenes depicting daily life. The keep itself appeared clean and well swept and despite what he suspected would be frigid nights inside these stone walls, the room he had taken as his own did boast an enormous fireplace.
Unfortunately, it appeared he and the lady were to be at odds for now. He didn't dare mention the green gem or he'd really be suspect, but he had to somehow keep an eye on her. If his men and ship were not endangered by Mandrak, this might have proven an enjoyable venture, getting to know Iliana.
Erik sighed. The sooner he discovered what Mandrak was really about, he could somehow get back to his men and depart this unwelcome and cold heap of stone. Could he convince Iliana to come with him? Would she ever remember him? He thought of the child, surely less than a year old. Whose child?
As they passed the stairway that led to the upper chambers, the young maid he had seen in Iliana's room earlier was nearly halfway down the stairs, her arms laden with linen. She smiled at him, then seemed to miss her footing on the stair. Teetering precariously on the wooden steps, she screeched, her arms thrown upwards. Neatly folded linen sailed in various directions as she attempted to save herself from falling.
Erik lunged up the steps. His fist clenched material and he pulled her towards him. He heard the material of her tunic tear in his hand. She did not plummet down the stairs, but flung herself toward him as he heaved them toward the wall and away from the open stair. She landed heavily against him, her face inches from his own, her breasts bare and heaving upon his chest.
Pushing wispy blond strands from her eyes, for she had lost her cap, Agnes stared with wide eyes at him, then down at his arms which held her crushed to him. Then she examined their position with something of a bold grin, and an invitation if he chose to acknowledge it as such.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Agnes smiled at him. "I am sorry my lord. 'Twas my own fault for not paying closer attention to where I put my feet." As if just realizing how her breasts were exposed to his view, and that of young Edward's, she made an attempt to cover them with her hands.
"Agnes! What --"
Iliana, no doubt having heard Agnes' screech, stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Erik could imagine what went through her mind. For all intents and purposes it appeared he'd waylaid her maid, torn her tunic in his eagerness, the remnants of which were still between his fingers and her bare breasts next to his hands.
"Agnes," Iliana said in a cool voice, "please cover yourself and retrieve the linens."
"Mistress --" began Edward.
"Edward, I see you have found my lord as I asked you to do. Now I believe you are needed to help with the serving of the repast. The girls have begun to carry in trenchers."
Edward ducked his head and scooted down the hallway.
Agnes scrabbled around, trying to reach the once-clean linen she'd been carrying. She grabbed several, holding them against her breasts as she rose, then accepted the hand Erik offered, her eyes sending him silent apology.
"Agnes!"
"I am sorry mistress, but the laundress will need to clean this linen once more. Oh, 'twas my fault," Agnes babbled, "in truth I was not looking --"
"Agnes, leave us," she said patiently.
The maid fled.
Iliana looked at him as he remained unmoving on the stairs.
"Perhaps you think to enjoy all the young women in this castle," she bit out furiously, "but I will not have it. You will respect my wishes and leave the women of Dutton Keep alone. Neither shall you be such an influence on young Edward. If you cannot contain yourself, I ask you to find a willing woman outside these walls."
Erik lifted a brow. "You wish for me to do my wenching outside these walls?"
"Exactly," Iliana said. "And it is quite unseemly we should have this discussion." She clenched her hands together. "Please cover your chest."
Erik looked down. The material of his tunic gaped, and apparently it did not please the lady as she frowned in annoyance.
With an exasperated mutter, she turned and traced her steps back to the great hall where tables were now laden with food. He caught up with her.
"Iliana. Agnes simply lost her footing."
Her shoulders were stiffly held. "And should I believe you?"
"I do not lie," he said softly.
"You will excuse me." She turned away.
With a sigh, Erik caught up with her. "I will continue with you to the meal."
She turned her shoulder to him. "I do not think I can eat," she said with icy disdain. "I find I no longer have an appetite."
"That is a shame," he said patiently. "It smells quite inviting. I have not eaten since yesterday, so I will take my leave and join the men."
"Wait." She halted, bit her lip and looked up at him. "How long do you and your men intend to stay here? Surely you have interests that will take you elsewhere -- other fighting or another keep to conquer?"
Her voice seemed almost hopeful and he sensed the emotion churning in her. She wanted them gone. "I thought you knew." He made his words slow and measured. "I plan to remain here for some time. I am charged with seeing to the care of the keep and its lands, and also the lady of the keep."
She stepped away from him. "I take care of myself. I thought there must be more important business dealings for you to attend to."
He could hear the disappointment in her voice. He shook his head. "Alas, no."
Erik left her standing there. Surely in time she would see he was not a scoundrel?
¤¤
Iliana stared after Erik with burning eyes. Nothing was as it seemed with this man. One moment he played the gentlemen, the next he was rutting after the maid.
Iliana needed a walk outside to clear her head. She needed guidance, but of late, it was sorely lacking. If only she could find the green gem, the treasure -- that was the key to her mission being completed. She would be released from this prison; it was just all becoming too much for her to bear. And what of William? He must come with her. She could never leave her child behind. Anguished, the question was always in her mind. What if he were not allowed to come with her? What then?
The sounds of revelry and shouts from the men in the hall below stirred her ire until the late hours. She wondered did he remain until the wee hours celebrating, looking at the keep's many fine features, thinking of the land that may even now be under his control? With a disgusted snort, Iliana imagined he did not. More than likely he'd sought out Agnes, or some other comely maiden to spend the night with.
As Iliana went about her duties that evening, she gritted her teeth until her jaws ached. Her biggest fear was that he would interfere with her mission, and she could not have that. The people under her care would be at risk. The man's presence demanded she remain alert, and if it came down to it, she must take action. Difficult choice might have to be made. The taking of a human life did not sit well, but she knew there might be no other action open to her.
¤¤
"My lord Mandrak, please, wait up, I canna see you, 'tis no moon tonight." Agnes hurried after him in the dark, excited but a bit unnerved by the darkness around them, especially as they moved outside the protection of the village walls. She knew the man's reputation, but in truth she felt flattered that he had sought her out when any of the prettier girls may have been taken with his dark and dangerous reputation.
He made no reply, merely pulled his dark hood closer, but Agnes was gratified when he put out a hand and grabbed hers tightly. Mandrak pulled her strongly into the shadow of the trees, his arm snaking about her waist, pulling her hard and tight up to him. She gasped, her breath knocked from her, but then she smiled. She caught a brief glimpse of his face before his hands were all over her, pulling down her blouse and then his hands were at her waist, pinching and ripping at her garments.
"Truth to tell, my Lord Mandrak," she laughed breathlessly, "I wasn't certain you would be interested in me, being there are others more comely than myself."
"Of course I am very interested in you -- Agnes," he said. "I am interested in all aspects of life here. I wish it was possible for us to walk about in the day, but I fear it is not to be."
"I know. I am sorry you are not spoken about more highly," Agnes said sadly. "After you explained the false charges brought against you, I wish there was something I could do to make it right. Perhaps I could put in a word with --"
"No -- no, do not worry yourself," he said. "You know we must remain quiet for now. I fear others would not understand the feelings we share. Sadly, there is nothing that can be done. But I am glad I have you to champion my cause, even if it is only within your heart."
"I would do anything to right the wrong done to you," she said.
Mandrak went still for a moment. "How does your mistress fare?" he asked. "I ask because I heard there were men at arms intent on taking over Dutton Keep."
"It was a sad day when the men arrived," Agnes agreed. "But I would not wish to speak of the mistress's private thoughts, she has been very kind to me."
"Of course I would not ask you to reveal her secrets, Agnes. Never fear that. But there is much fighting hereabouts, she is lucky to have extra men for protection."
Agnes nodded. "There is that, of course. I do not think she sees it in quite that way. She fears they will intrude on her business."
"Of course. Her gem trade. And does my Lady Iliana have any new and glorious gems to talk about?" He squeezed her gently as he lowered her to the stony ground.
"No, though I know she awaits the arrival of the gem traders -- they are late and we fear they may have been waylaid by bandits due to the countryside skirmishes."
"Yes, it is very dangerous on the roads now. I would have to wonder what would you do for a priceless bauble, Agnes?"
Agnes laughed. "The gems are very pretty, but I'd be more afraid someone would take it off me," she said, putting up a hand as pebbles bit into her scalp. "It would be nice for a bit, but then it could be sold for bread or perhaps a bit of lamb."
"How true. But we have other more important issues to discuss, such as where we left off from my last visit here." His mouth dropped to hers hard and bruising, his heavy weight pushing her punishingly into the ground.
Agnes giggled, then put her arms around him, allowing the slight stirrings of guilt to be washed away by passion. She knew it would be frowned upon if anyone knew she was meeting with him, but she had never been one to pay heed to what other's feared. He pulled her cloak back, ripping at the coarse linen tunic beneath the fine material, until his fingers touched her skin again. Punishingly, he gripped the flesh of her abdomen between his fingers and twisted the flesh.
"You are quite eager my lord," she said. She looked into his brown eyes, not minding his crushing weight at all.
"So Agnes, am I to understand that you know nothing of her ladyship's search for the green gem?" he asked quietly, his hands stilling.
Agnes looked at him in surprise. "I know she has some pretty green stones from time to time."
"This would be an enormous stone, larger than you have ever seen. She searches for it continuously. Has she ever mentioned it or have you ever observed her searching throughout the keep?"
Agnes shook her head. "Her ladyship does not share her whereabouts with me," she said, lying now across his chest. "Once my father needs me in the fields, I will no longer be maid to my lady."
"That is too bad," he said, almost to himself. "I am sorry you are not of more use to me Agnes."
She laughed uncertainly.
"This could have been an enjoyable interlude, but now I fear it must end." He extricated himself from Agnes and came to his feet. She slid to the hard ground.
"I-I don't understand --" she began, and then she saw his cold smile. She swallowed hard. "I promise not to tell anyone we've met," she stammered.
"I can't take that chance. I am sorry Agnes."
¤¤
Iliana searched for Agnes early the next morning. The girl had not shown herself as she was wont to do upon day break. Cook was also disturbed by the girl's absence, having requested her help for the noontide meal. Morning had come and gone and Agnes still was not to be found.
"Mistress," Rowenna, one of the kitchen maids, waylaid Iliana as she prepared to make her way across the cobbled courtyard, William on her hip. Iliana was intent upon reaching the postern door before anyone made note of her presence. Erik and his men were paired off, engaged in an exchange of swordplay before a lustily wagering crowd which had gathered in the courtyard, some of which included villagers.
"Yes, Rowenna?" Iliana halted, her eyes darting quickly to the tall, blond headed man in the courtyard, then just as swiftly back to the young girl.
"Cook said as how you was looking for Agnes, and --" the girl hesitated, eyes downcast. Iliana gave her full attention to the girl, something in her manner making her uneasy.
"Yes, Rowenna, what troubles you?"
The young girl's eyes briefly rested upon the men and their flashing swords, then she looked up at her mistress with tears in her eyes, "It is Agnes. I fear she ran off last night. She had it in her head to spend time with -- with a man."
Despite the heat of the sun, a coldness seeped through Iliana.
"I knew she was to meet someone -- do you know who it was?" Iliana asked.
"I do not know for sure, but her father feared it was someone of whom he would not approve. She was very secretive."
Urgently, Iliana motioned the younger girl under the shadow of the wine cellar entrance.
"Do you know something you're not telling me Rowenna?"
The young girl turned to watch the men who lunged at each other across the courtyard.
"Her father feared it was one of those men Agnes went to meet." Her voice was a mere whisper.
A knot twisted within her stomach as her eyes followed the direction of Anna's trembling finger. The sword play was finished, one man standing victor over the other, a half grin upon his lips. As Iliana watched with a strange fascination, Erik accepted a goblet from one of his men at arms, tossing the contents back, then raising his fist in a gesture of victory, before leaning forward to offer a hand to the man who knelt defeated on the ground.
Rowenna twisted her hands with great agitation, the words wrenched from her, "Agnes was bound and determined to meet with this man. She laughed when we worried for her safety."
Iliana took William in her arms, burying her face in his sweet-scented neck.
"Thank you Rowenna." Tightlipped, she made her way across the courtyard, slipping through the postern door, ignoring Erik's voice behind her as he called her name.
Iliana walked among the trees, her mind in turmoil. She hugged William closer to her breast. Gently, she brushed back his dark hair, smiling into his face as he gave her his endearing toothless grin.
She had only gone a short distance when her path was blocked by one of the men at arms. She had noticed him in the courtyard upon occasion, his size bigger than any of the other men, his dark eyes fierce, and unruly black hair and beard not easily forgotten.
When she would have gone around him, he stepped back into her path, his size intimidating as he gestured her back the way she had come.
She put her chin up. "Sir, let me pass."
"It is better if you return the way you came, my lady Iliana."
She looked at him suspiciously and tried to look around him. "What are you hiding? Why may I not pass?"
"There has been an accident," he said, his voice gruff.
"Move aside," she said.
"My lady --"
"Who are you?"
"Ulrich."
"Ulrich, move aside now."
Iliana moved past him, following a path into heavy brush. It was only a short distance later that she found the thick-soled slipper. Bending to retrieve the lone slipper, Iliana suddenly saw someone lying beside the edge of the trees where the brush grew lighter, a grey cloak twisted about long legs. Iliana immediately recognized the cloak she had given Agnes, who had none of her own to ward off the chill of night and mornings. It fell gravely short on the girl, barely covering her knees.
"Agnes," Iliana chided, "have you slept out here all night?" Iliana moved closer, shifting William to her other hip as she bent down to shake the young girl. She drew back with a startled exclamation as one of Agnes' hands fell limply across her naked stomach, the fingertips scarlet with blood. She took another step back, horrified. Blood was everywhere.
Iliana could now see Agnes' eyes stared lifelessly upward.
Blindly, Iliana turned to flee, but she was caught from behind and held. Heart pounding so fiercely she thought she should collapse, Iliana looked up into green eyes.
Erik.
She clutched the baby closer to her chest.
Beyond him stood the black-bearded Ulrich.
¤¤
"Iliana, are you all right?"
She threw her head up. "You dare to ask me?" she hissed. "Perhaps you know what befell poor misguided Agnes?"
Erik narrowed his eyes, taking in the scene behind her. "Good God --" He looked at her. "What would I know? There lies your poor maid, apparently brutally murdered --"
"Verily she is dead. Will you tell me you did not know it? It appears your man knew it. He tried to block my way."
Erik pulled her away from the dead girl. She tried to twist free, but he would have none of it, forcing her before him. Several people, no doubt hearing the commotion, began to walk toward them, led by Rowenna and Thomas the carpenter.
"Thomas," Iliana directed as the man came running from the keep, to see what was causing the curiosity, "see that poor Agnes is brought to her father's house." The man immediately rushed forward. He looked at Erik, then away.
"I will gather some fellows to help me," Thomas mumbled. He walked back the way he'd come. "Agnes would not listen."
"What do you mean?" Iliana called after him, but there was no answer as Thomas walked toward the village, his shoulders slumped.
"My lady Iliana," Erik, "come away."
Iliana turned to him. "Scoundrel, son of a pig, loathsome bacon-brain --"
"Enough!" He pulled her up against him, ignoring her struggles. He lifted William away from her and into his own arms.
"Give me my son," she said furiously.
"Why would you think I know about this?" he asked, jostling William until the boy began to chuckle with glee.
"Why? Do you think I am some little pea goose without a thought in her head? I have seen the glances Agnes was wont to cast your way. Do not tell me you have no knowledge of what happened. I have seen you eyeing her with my own eyes. I am not daft."
"It appears you are," he said coldly, gritting his teeth. "What is it that you have seen except poor Agnes lying there dead? Did you see me place her lifeless body there? Did you see me brutalize the girl?"
"Give me my son." She could not snatch her son back, and in truth, he was grinning with delight as now Erik gently swung him to and fro.
"So now you accuse me of murder, Iliana?"
"You or one of your men," she said. Her glance fixated on the talon like marks across his throat and collarbone where dried blood flecked the skin.
"Your neck," she said.
He touched his neck. "I earned those training in the courtyard, though no doubt you will not believe me."
Iliana held out her shaking hands and he placed William in her arms. With the baby held close, she hurried back toward the castle.
She glared at Ulrich as she passed him. He had known Agnes was there, that's why he'd blocked her path. He was Erik's man.
¤¤
It had been a long time since Ulrich felt shame or remorse in his life, but he felt remorse today, even for the briefest instant. The Lady Iliana had looked at him with such anger and disgust, as if he'd been responsible for the girl's death, and he'd felt that look clear down to his flat feet.
He had tried to shield the lady from the body, but it was not to be. She was headstrong and not to be deterred from where she would go. From what he had seen the lady was fair and just, feeding the men the same quality of meats as the rest of the keep. Generally, the men at arms were not given the best of the fare.
He sighed. She had seen the lifeless and bloody body of the serving girl. Ulrich had seen lifeless bodies in many battles, but he supposed it had been quite a shock for her.
When he'd come upon the serving girl, he'd acknowledged the smallest hint of uneasiness. Mandrak might justify all actions were for the cause, but surely there had to be a line drawn somewhere? What made Ulrich feel even more uneasy was he'd been the one who'd told Mandrak it might be to his advantage to make a friend of the girl Agnes. And now she lay dead. Ulrich knew it was out of his control, and as he'd thought the bloodshed had already begun. Mandrak did as he pleased, and seemed not to worry about the outcome.
¤¤
Iliana paced. She needed time to think...time to decide her next course of action. Her greatest fears were coming to fruition. Erik and his men were disrupting life here at the keep, and now perhaps, had murdered an innocent girl.
She felt actual physical pain, her mind whirling with terrible thoughts. How could she protect anyone if a murderer walked among them?
She tried to settle her fears, and fed William his lunch, gently guiding his chubby baby fingers to the trencher full of cut up vegetables and fruit. He was in a playful mood today, slapping at his food rather than putting it in his mouth. She took the small pieces of vegetables and buzzed them around his face and ears, watching his eyes follow her movements, until he voluntarily opened his mouth and she'd pop some food inside. Laughing with his deep chuckle, he put his head back, waiting for the game to begin again. Iliana smiled, letting herself forget what she had seen earlier as they played in gentle innocence.
Her little William. So precious, her child, born one hot summer night. He was still one of the mysteries of her life here. She had been gifted with this delightful child, but how she had even become with child remained a mystery. It had caused her great angst in the beginning, to discover herself pregnant, but even her life tapestry had hidden the truth from her. There had been a time where she lay ill for three weeks, and when she began to recover from the strange illness, she began to notice the changes in her body. Frantically, she had searched her life tapestry, but the finely woven cloth had refused to let her see that time. It remained blurred, as if a protective covering had been placed over the memory.
And perhaps that was for the best, she thought on many occasions. For what if the circumstances of William's conception were more than she could bear?
Washing his face and hands, Iliana carried him upstairs, then let him play for a time on the bed furs as she sat on the bed. Tears came to her eyes as she saw the small wooden animals Agnes had brought to their chamber last night for William. They were scattered across the bed surface, and William clutched a sheep and horse in his chubby fingers. A knight and a dragon also lay on the bed furs but William had not yet noticed those.
"Time for a nap, young man," she said softly. He looked at her with those pure green eyes, most seriously, then he sat back and held the wooden sheep out to her. Iliana took it, holding it to her breast, overcome with such love for this child. She lay down on the bed and pulled him close, kissed his cheek, inhaling his sweet baby fragrance. He lay still beside her as they faced each other, until slowly his eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep, the horse still clutched in one hand.
Iliana rose, lifting William carefully and placing him in his bed. He was getting quite heavy, and growing taller so quickly, it seemed. Soon, she would have a small bed made for him as he had almost outgrown the large wood cradle.
Once he was settled, she moved to the window, pushed aside the cloth and stared at the yard below. Erik's men filled the courtyard with their gaming, dice and sword play. The clang of metal filled the air all day. He participated also, stripped to the waist. Wide shoulders, a light dusting of blond hair, slim hips. Something stirred to life in her stomach, and she crossed her arms in front of her. She made herself look away from him and then put her back to the window, feeling the breeze move against her hair.
Iliana pondered the chain of events in the last several weeks. She had a new shipment of gems arriving any day now, and in fact they were late. She had been warned of skirmishes in the countryside due to increasing unrest, and she worried now for the future of her people. Her most trusted men at arms went once a month to the seaport to the west, meeting a merchant from the deserts far beyond England's shores. Rare gems were exchanged for the jeweled pieces she had painstakingly created, gems of the highest caliber embedded in silver and the occasional gold piece. And yet they had not arrived as scheduled.
Erik's men rode the perimeters of the keep each day, venturing somewhat into the countryside in the pretext of seeing to the keep's protection. She had no reason to think they were doing anything other than protecting the land, but then where were her men with the gem shipment?
Iliana moved to the dressing table which held her comb and mirror. She picked up the hammered silver mirror, ran her fingers over the red garnets embedded in the silver. What if Erik was intent on wresting her trade from her? Iliana looked into the mirror, holding it up to her face, staring into her own blue eyes, her dark hair. What mask did she wear and how had it been put into place? At times she felt like a mystery to herself. She knew her quest, but her arrival in this time still remained a mystery to her.
Something pinched her neck and she twisted, frantically brushing her neck with the back of her hand. Something flew past her nose and she twisted sideways, swinging the mirror and hitting the object so that it smacked onto the stone floor. Quickly, it scuttled to hide behind the bed's wooden foot.
Stepping between William's cradle and where she'd last seen the creature, Iliana backed toward the fireplace. Leaning down, she felt for the iron poker. Moving cautiously forward, she used the poker to lift the bed fur where it draped the floor. She jumped back with a small screech as a small dragon scuttled toward her. She swung at it with the poker but it leapt up and flew around her in circles.
Horrified, she realized it was the wooden dragon that had been on the bed furs, only now its carved surface held a strange green glimmer as if the scales had come alive. It had tiny yellow eyes that opened and closed as its tail twitched once and then again, this way and that. She backed up closer to William's cradle then went still as the dragon moved toward her, its black-tipped scales moving with each step, looking razor sharp and deadly.
Iliana turned her head and saw her life tapestry, and she was mesmerized by the swirling colors. As she watched, the picture began to reveal itself, the colored threads swiftly creating the scene with the dragon flying around her.
The dragon darted toward her, then flew straight up and down toward William's cradle, extending its neck and hissing at her. She swung the mirror and hit it again. "Leave my son alone. Leave this chamber for surely you are spell cast!" She gained a momentary reprieve as it hit the wall and slid to the floor. Her hand stung, and she saw the scales had ripped open the flesh. Grabbing a fresh linen cloth from the bedside stand, she awkwardly wrapped the hand. The creature was between her and the door -- how could they escape?
There was a rap at her door. She watched the wooden dragon as it skittered back and forth on the stone floor as if daring her to try and run past. It lunged at her feet, its strong tiny jaws gripped the hem of her gown and pulled her forward. "Get out!" She swung the poker and managed a glancing blow on its tail.
Suddenly, the door to her chamber burst open. She did not dare to look away from the dragon. "Stay back!" she cried. "The dragon will attack you."
"I knew no good would come of dragons in the sky," she heard Erik mutter. "Where is it?"
Despite her warning, he stepped into the room.
"That?" he said. She looked askance at him, his voice on the verge of amusement.
"This is no laughing matter," she said tensely.
He glanced at her bleeding hand and seemed to sober. William stirred and pulled himself to the side of his bed. The dragon turned toward him, skittered across the floor and under his cradle. "William!"
Before she could get back to his cradle, Erik lifted her son out and into his arms. He pushed the cradle back until it hit the wall and then Iliana moved in with the iron poker.
The dragon crawled up the side of the cradle and then flew straight up toward Iliana's face. She dropped the poker to protect her eyes and saw in amazement as Erik grabbed the dragon out of the air with one hand, two fingers around its throat. The dragon twisted and writhed, but he squeezed it tight.
Amazed, Iliana watched as her son, held in the crook of his arm, pressed his chubby hands around the man's throat.
Erik turned towards her, let her take William, still holding the dragon at arm's length.
He moved toward the fire in the grate, kicked at the logs until the flames roared fully to life and tossed the dragon into the fire. It burst with a big puff of white powder that sifted down across the logs.
"Are you demented?" she snapped, fear still riding her as she watched the dragon disappear. Even as William twisted in her arms, reaching toward the man, she stepped back and half turned from him. "That could have disemboweled and killed you!"
He lifted a brow. "Disemboweled me? I've had bigger rats aboard my ship. Come, show me your hand," he said, holding out his own hand with its long fingers, but she avoided him. "You are angry," he observed. "I would think that would make you happy if I had been disemboweled," he added.
Stiffly, she said, "You saved my son, and I am grateful." He was right, it could have killed him and that would rid her of him. Then why was she angry?
"Where did it come from?" he asked.
"Agnes brought carved toys for William right before -- before she died." Quickly, she bent over William's bed and removed the carved horse from his bed linen. She turned it over, relieved to find it had not been spell cast. "Why put a spell of magic over a wooden toy and make it come alive?"
"You are telling me a toy dragon came to life through magic?"
She nodded.
"And why am I not surprised?" he asked, sighing. "Like many things in this world it does not have a reasonable explanation."
Iliana walked over to her life tapestry. She leaned closer, gently touched the woven cloth and the scene became much clearer. She looked back at him, frowning. In the tapestry he stood beside her, the dragon writhing in his hand and behind him there appeared a shadow. Was he two men?
Iliana drew in a startled breath, suddenly understanding what she was seeing. He had two faces. She was reminded she could not trust him, no matter what he showed on the surface.
"I am thankful for your assistance in keeping William safe," she said, "but you must leave now." How could she have forgotten even for a moment he was her enemy?
Erik moved to the door, pushed it closed and leaned back against it. "I think not."