Chapter 2

 

Nine months later, Braewood Castle, Gavinshire

 

Robin Praxis, Lord Braewood, was indeed gone. ‘Twas the first time he’d left Braewood Castle in three months. Cristiana stood at the window of her chamber as a half-moon rose to dribble milky white atop the trees. Ten hours past, she’d watched as the forest swallowed up his carriage, along with the two soldiers on horseback who guarded him. She should be elated, excited even, for this was her one chance to escape. Or so Seraphina repeatedly told her. But all Cristiana felt was terror.

The wooden door creaked open and in rushed the lady herself, eyes lit with urgency. “The time is upon us, my lady.” Clutching her skirts, she moved to the window and followed Cristiana’s gaze. “’Tis the first time he has ever left us alone and unguarded.”

“Because he trusts us…me.” Guilt pricked Cristiana. Lord Braewood had been naught but kind to her and Seraphina, ever since he’d found them in the nearby village, shivering in the cold, their attire stained and tattered. They’d been near to starving as they prayed for people in exchange for scraps of food.

Sighing, Seraphina backed away from the window, her sapphire-blue eyes filled with both concern and fear. A braid of hair the color of glistening snow dangled down the back of her emerald green tunic. “Which is precisely why we must leave. Now. Ere he returns and decides not to trust you.”

Cristiana retreated from the window and grabbed a lock of her hair, her thoughts awhirl. She glanced over her chamber, full of everything she could want. Light from several candles fluttered over a wardrobe overflowing with fine gowns, a glowing hearth constantly kept her warm, a case laden with books that had provided months of reading, and a canopied bed that was as soft and feathery as the clouds. “Alas, look how well he treats me. And you as well, Seraphina.”

Cristiana clutched the edges of her Camelot surcote and spread out the rich vermilion fabric. “He dresses us in the finest attire, provides every luxury, and we feast like royalty. And what does he ask in return? Merely that I heal those who are ill. Those who come to us for prayer. How could there be evil in such a man?”

Seraphina flattened her lips. “He charges money for your skills, my lady. Large sums which sentence those who come for healing to a life of poverty.”

Cristiana lowered to sit on her bed. “So you have said.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Oh, Sera, of course. You are my lifelong friend.” She reached for her. “The only person who has not abandoned me.”

Seraphina took her hand and sat beside her.

“If he does take payment,” Cristiana continued, “what of it? He no doubt uses it for our care, as well as Thebe’s.” She stared at her friend. “You wish to leave that precious child?”

“Nay, my lady. I wish to take her with us. ’Tis not safe for her here.” Seraphina bit her lip and stared into the coals of the hearth. “I have seen it. Danger and darkness await us if we remain.”

Cristiana knew Seraphina had the gift of sight and had oft predicted future events. The lady also knew things she could not know by natural means. But, in good sooth, mayhap her disdain for Lord Braewood had stifled those gifts in this matter.

Seraphina turned to face her, squeezing her hands. “I beg you, my lady. He is gone only this one night. I have prepared everything. But we must leave now.”

“But the guards.”

“Naught to fear, my lady. ’Twas an easy task to convince the steward to grant them extra mead at this evening’s repast. Especially with their lord gone. Hence, they are no doubt slumbering at their posts. ’Twould be of no account to take Thebe and two horses and leave by the back gate.”

“Horses? Where are you to procure those? And what of the guard who stands at the gate each eve?”

Seraphina smiled. “He will be engaged elsewhere. I have paid Mistress Eleanor to lure him aside with her charms. And we both know the stable boy is quite taken with me.”

Cristiana couldn’t help but laugh. “I fear a devil dwells beneath your angelic exterior, Sera.”

“Call it what you wish, but I have vowed to keep you safe, my lady.”

“And how would I be any safer out there?” Cristiana gestured toward the window as a gust of wind whirled inside, spinning the candle flames and bringing with it the scent of horses and earth. “Where we have no provision or protection. Do you not remember the six months we spent wandering from village to village, sleeping on the cold, damp ground, begging for even the scraps fed the chickens?”

“Of course I do. ’Twas the worst time of my life. But we didn’t die or starve. Nor were we even accosted. God took care of us.”

“Aye, by bringing Lord Braewood across our path.”

Sighing, Seraphina stood. “We were doing well enough after you discovered the power of the Spear to heal.”

Cristiana rubbed her wrist and gazed at the mark that had miraculously appeared there when her sister Alexia had transferred ownership of the relic to her. The Spear of Destiny—the tip of the spear which had stabbed Christ’s side. ’Twas said to have powers for war and against one’s enemies. Which was why so many sought it, including the king himself. And the King’s Guard—powerful knights who served only him. But she had no idea the Spear possessed powers to heal as well until she had prayed for a crippled lad in the village of Savinne. She’d only done it to silence his mother, who had discovered them hiding in a church, pronounced Cristiana an angel, and demanded she pray for her son.

When the lad’s twisted leg had straightened and he began laughing and running, his mother had all but worshiped Cristiana. But ’twas God who had performed the miracle. Through the Spear. It had to be. For Cristiana could never have done such a feat.

Seraphina strolled to the hearth and held out her hands to the warm coals. “People were offering food and shelter in return for your prayers for their sick. We could have eventually afforded a home of our own.”

“Mayhap. But protection? Lord Braewood offered both,” Cristiana countered, hating to argue with her dear friend.

“He uses you for gain.” Seraphina faced her. “Why can you not see that?”

“Then why take in Thebe at my request? She brings no value to him. She is but a lowly child, orphaned in the fire that struck the village six months past.” Cristiana rose and hugged herself.

“I wish you would trust me, my lady. He is not the man you believe him to be. His intentions are far from benevolent.”

The woman’s gnawing persistence reminded Cristiana that Seraphina was a friend, aye, but also a servant. “Do you take me for a fool? Have I traded one evil lord for another? At least I am not forced to take potions which keep my mind befuddled and my body abed. You have no idea how wonderful it is to regain my strength.” She exhaled a deep sigh before continuing. “To have a clear mind, to be in control of my thoughts again. After so many years.”

Seraphina approached, desperation spiking her tone. “Then use those thoughts to choose the wise path. Let us go home, I beseech you.”

“Home to what? With my disappearance and Alexia wanted for witchcraft, Sir Walter has no doubt petitioned the king for ownership of Luxley.” After their escape, Seraphina had informed Cristiana that her sister was still alive, much to her utter glee.

“The king is wise. He will not grant it ere he has proof of your death.”

“Sweet angels! Indeed. Another reason not to return to a man who would happily seek my end.”

“And what of your sister?” Seraphina arched a condemning brow. “Would you leave her to face such danger alone?”

Cristiana stared at the coals, hating the guilt rippling through her. “Alexia is strong, much stronger than I have ever been. If anyone can regain Luxley, ’tis her.”

“Mayhap she needs your help. At least bring her the Spear.”

Cristiana patted her thigh where she had strapped the relic. ’Twas the only place to keep it safe and always with her.

Seraphina huffed. “’Tis well you at least heed my advice to keep it hidden. Should Lord Braewood discover it, he would have no further need of you.”

Cristiana stared at her friend, anger rising. “’Tis a folly you speak so ill of him.”

Seraphina lowered her head. “Forgive me, my lady.” She wandered to the window again. “And what of Sir Jarin?”

Jarin the Just, the knight who had stolen Cristiana’s heart. The name that still sent a bolt of warmth through her. She could picture his dark hair curled at the tips as it hung to his shoulders, the trimmed beard lining his chin and jaw, his brown eyes so full of strength and concern, the deep timbre of his voice, and the way his roguish smile sent her heart careening in delight. But he’d abandoned her. Like everyone else. “What of him?” she spat out. “We found no trace of him or any of them in Emerald Forest.”

“We didn’t search long enough. I know Alexia and the friar have a hideout there.”

Suddenly chilled, Cristiana moved to the hearth and dropped to a chair. “Should we have stayed until Sir Walter’s soldiers found us? They were fast on our trail as you remember. Even so, ’tis obvious by now that Sir Jarin does not search for me. He has no doubt moved on to another.”

“And your sister and Sir Ronar LePeine?” Seraphina asked, her tone a spear of reprimand.

“Hopefully in hiding from those who wish her burned at the stake. I place no blame on her for not coming to my aid.”

“Then let us go find her, my lady.” Seraphina knelt before her. “And Sir Jarin, Sir Ronar, and Sir Damien LaRage. Let us join their cause.”

As much as Cristiana longed to see her sister and ensure she was safe, the thought of leaving the only place she’d ever felt secure and venturing into the unknown again made every inch of her seize with panic. Most of her eighteen years had been fraught with uncertainty, fear, betrayal, and death.

A knock on the door saved her from declaring her cowardice to her friend. Cristiana’s maid, Muriel, entered, Thebe in her arms. At the sight of Cristiana, the two-year-old girl wiggled free to the floor and darted toward her. “Cristi, Cristi!” She leapt into her arms, and Cristiana squeezed her tight. “Why are you not abed, dear one?” She glanced at Muriel, whose nervous gaze shifted to Seraphina. “Nor in your night dress?” she added, taking in the girl’s gown and woolen cloak.

Seraphina rose. “I had Muriel prepare her for our journey. We must leave. We have but a small window of time ere the guard returns to his post.”

Cristiana kissed Thebe’s forehead, her ire rising. “You will not only subject me to danger, but this child as well?”

“There is far more danger here, my lady. Prithee, you must believe me.”

Cristiana glanced at the maid, who remained at the door. “And what do you think, Muriel? You have served Lord Braewood for years.”

“I do not think, my lady. I merely do as I am told.”

“Hmm. Do you wish to escape this place?”

Muriel’s eyes shifted between Cristiana and Seraphina ere they lowered to the floor. “Nay, I have a home here.”

“Tell her what you overheard, Muriel,” Seraphina ordered the maid. “Mayhap she’ll believe you.”

The young girl, who could be no older than thirteen, shifted her feet across the floor but never raised her eyes. “I heard my lord arguing with Lady Braewood two nights past. His mother wished him to wed you as soon as possible.”

“Peace froth!” Cristiana laughed, jarring Thebe, who had laid her head on her shoulder. “He has no such romantic notions.”

“Indeed, my lady,” Muriel added, “for he said he had no desire to wed. Rather he wished to discover the power behind your healing and acquire it for himself. He made mention of gaining a fortune by doing so.”

Cristiana swallowed. The revelation slowly wormed its way into her heart, depositing a lesion of doubt. Muriel had no reason to lie about such a matter. “I bid you, Muriel, give me your troth that you speak the truth.”

The maid finally raised her gaze and nodded.

Another betrayal. Would they never cease? She kissed Thebe’s forehead as confusion and heartache stirred a wicked brew within her. Yet there was no time to decide the right course. She must trust Seraphina. “Then we shall leave.” With the child still in her arms, she rose and nodded for the maid to grab her woolen cloak. “My things.” Terror suddenly took hold of her as she glanced around the chamber at all the comforts she would leave behind.

“I have packed a bag for each of us already.” Seraphina started for the door. “Just carry the girl. This way.”

Cristiana followed her, glancing at the maid. “Come with us, Muriel.”

“I cannot, my lady. I wouldn’t know what to do in the world.” Tears filled the young girl’s eyes. “Godspeed.”

“And to you.”

Down the winding stairs, Cristiana fled. Past the great hall where several people slept on reed pallets near the massive hearth, past the dark kitchen, and out into the bailey.

The chill of the night permeated Cristiana’s thin tunic even as her heart froze in fear and uncertainty. Should she leave this safe place on the word of one maid? Nay. ’Twas also Seraphina’s word. But where would they go? How would they care for this precious child that was even now growing heavy in her arms?

Seraphina disappeared into the stables and emerged moments later with two palfreys, saddled, bridled and ready to ride.

“Hurry.” Taking the reins, she led her horse through the courtyard toward the back where a half-moon revealed no guard stood at the post. Pushing open the gate, she led her horse through, the creaking sound reverberating like a gong through the night.

Cristiana stood frozen in place, staring at the open gate as Seraphina tied their bags to the back of her saddle, then mounted the horse with an ease that surprised her. Beyond, only darkness rose from a forest that surrounded Braewood Hall. The scent of earthy loam, hay, and horses filled her nose, whilst the howl of a distant wolf prickled the hair on her arms. Outside that gate were wars, hunger, cold, predators, evil men, and danger. Yet inside these walls were secrets, lies, and betrayal.

“Come, precious.” Cristiana kissed Thebe and started to lift her onto the saddle. “I’m going to put you on the horse now.”

“Ride horsey?” the sleepy child said gleefully.

“Aye, dear. Ride horsey.”

“Nay, dear, no horse ride for you this night.” The voice snaked an icy trail down Cristiana’s back. She spun to see three figures emerge from the shadows. Lord Braewood, flanked by two of his knights.

Cristiana drew the child back to her chest and retreated a step, her heart banging so hard against her ribs, she thought it would break through.

Seraphina groaned as her horse pawed the dirt.

“Don’t just stand there!” he ordered his men. “Grab her!”

The men started for Seraphina. Cristiana couldn’t breathe. Thebe started to cry.

And Seraphina did the one thing Cristiana never thought she would do. She slapped the reins against the horse’s neck, and after giving Cristiana one last glance of remorse, kicked her heels against its sides and sped off into the darkness.

“Should I go after her, my lord?” one of the knight’s said.

“Nay. She will trouble us no further.” Then turning to Cristiana, Lord Braewood pasted on a smile that curdled her stomach. “Now, my dear, where were you running off to in the middle of the night?”

At that moment, two horrid things occurred to her. One, she was the biggest fool that ever lived, and two, along with everyone else in her life, her best friend had just abandoned her.