Chapter 16

 

Alexia rapped the secret knock on the door to the underground hideout of the Knights of the Eternal realm. Friar Josef opened it, and she pushed past him with a smile. In truth, it had been her home for the past ten years. Removing her bow and quiver, she set them on the table as Ronar and Damien entered behind her.

Seraphina rose from a chair, her eyes searching out Damien, and a noticeable breath escaped her at the sight of him.

“Judas!” Damien spat. “We were nearly caught.” He made his way to the fireplace and planted his boot on the hearth.

“But we were not, Damien.” Ronar poured two glasses of water from a jug on the sideboard and handed one to Alexia with a wink.

Taking it, she smiled at her intended and took a sip. “Come, Damien, surely you jest. After all that occurred, can you not see God’s hand of protection upon us?”

Friar Josef gripped the cross hanging around his neck. “Indeed, my dear one. ’Tis why Seraphina and I have been in deep prayer the entire time you were gone.”

Ronar plopped into a cushioned chair and raked back his hair. “Alas, we needed it, Friar. In good sooth, you would not believe what happened, even should you have seen it yourself.”

“’Twas naught but trickery.” Damien turned from the fire and went to pour himself some wine.

Seraphina took a step forward, her blue eyes flitting between all of them. “I saw it.”

Setting down her glass, Alexia lowered to sit beside Ronar. She knew the maid had a gift, though the exact nature of it, she could not name. Yet ofttimes Seraphina knew events that had not yet happened and things about others no one had ever told her.

“What did you see?” Alexia asked.

Damien finished a glass of wine and poured another ere turning to face her.

“I saw a wall, a large wall blocking your way.”

Ronar stared at her, blinking, then shook his head as if trying to scatter the words elsewhere.

Damien growled and halted once again before the fire.

Friar Josef’s eyes twinkled. “Tell them of the snakes.”

Speechless, Alexia sat back in her chair, amazed at the power of God and of His gifts freely offered to mankind if only they would believe.

“Snakes came out of the wall.” Seraphina’s lip began to tremble, and Damien drew a chair up for her to sit. Returning his smile, she lowered into it. “I”—she glanced at Friar Josef—“we became anxious for you.”

The friar raised his brows and smiled. “Thus, the praying.”

“You mock us, dear lady. How could you possibly know these things?” Damien huffed, shifting his gaze between Alexia and Ronar, though he knew as well as they that none of them could have disclosed the information.

“Are you so thickheaded, Sir Damien?” Alexia forced playfulness in her tone, for she had no desire to enrage the large knight.

A frown was her only answer as Damien shifted his attention back to Seraphina. And who could blame him? The maid had always been lovely. Even now her long hair glistened like snow in the firelight as it tumbled over her shoulder, easing over her feminine curves. But ’twas the look in her eyes as she gazed at Damien that made Alexia smile. ’Twas good to see love blossom in the midst of such tribulation.

Ronar leaned his forearms on his knees. “I can hardly credit it, Friar, but Mistress Seraphina must surely possess this gift of knowledge that you recently read to us about from the Scriptures.”

“That’s it!” Alexia nearly shouted. “I had not known the proper name for it.”

Friar Josef smiled at Seraphina. “I will not gainsay it. You are truly gifted.”

As was the friar, but he was too humble to admit it. Yet how many times during Alexia’s stay in this place had he heard directly from God? Something she struggled with even now.

“Sweet saints, the wall was real, then?” Friar Josef faced her. “Pray tell us what happened to it?”

“Ah that,” Alexia said with an unruffled air she had not felt at the time. “At the mention of Christ’s name and the Word of God, it vanished.”

Friar Josef clapped his hands together. “Praise His name!”

“Indeed.” Ronar nodded, and Alexia was pleased to see him growing in the faith.

Damien, however, returned to the sideboard for more wine.

Seraphina’s gaze followed him ere she spoke again, this time with more fear in her voice. “I saw something else. Darkness. Much darkness. It grows thicker at Luxley with each passing day.”

“Aye.” Ronar shared a glance with Alexia and took her hand in his. “We have been sensing the same every time we venture there.”

“Then you will need much prayer the next time you go,” the friar said. “And you must put on your armor.”

Damien chuckled and took another sip of wine. “What good will armor do against walls of snakes?”

“Not that kind of armor, son. God’s armor.” The friar pointed at his chest, but Damien only frowned yet again. Alexia would have to step up her prayers for him.

“I suppose Sir Walter did not sign your document,” Seraphina asked.

“Nay, not this time,” Ronar said. “But we are close.”

“Pray, what exactly does it say?”

“’Tis a statement of guilt,” Alexia said, “from Sir Walter to the king, informing His Majesty that he and Bishop Montruse conspired to falsely accuse me of being a witch, though they had no reason or proof. All with the goal of Sir Walter becoming the new lord of Luxley and Bishop Montruse acquiring the Spear of Destiny.” Alexia smiled at Ronar, enjoying the feel of his warm hand around hers. “It also absolves Ronar LePeine, Jarin the Just, and Damien LaRage of any traitorous activities and requests they be reinstated as King’s Guards.”

“Here, here!” Damien said.

“At the end,” Ronar continued her story. “Sir Walter asks for clemency to return to his own estate, giving his troth to never set foot in Luxley again.”

Seraphina’s delicate brow furrowed. “But why would the king believe such a thing coming from the man himself? ’Twould make no sense for him to send such an admission of guilt when he believes there to be no chance of being caught. What is his motive?”

“In the document he exposes the bishop’s plan to take the Spear to the Holy Primal instead of the king. This display of loyalty he hopes will grant him his freedom.”

“Is that the bishop’s true desire?”

Ronar grinned. “We do not know, I’ll grant you, but the bishop is an evil, ambitious man, and I would not believe otherwise.”

“Still…” Seraphina frowned. “Why would the king believe such a tale?”

“He would not,” Damien interjected and approached to stand beside the lady. “But the missive, complete with Sir Walter’s seal, would raise enough suspicion that he would send men to investigate.”

“And once they spoke with all the servants at Luxley,” Alexia added, “the truth would come out. Anabelle assures me they loathe the man.”

Seraphina nodded. “Then he simply must sign it,” she said with the conviction of someone in power. Pausing, she glanced at Damien and then over them all. “I have other news. Sir Jarin has found Lady Cristiana.”

“Found?” Releasing Ronar’s hand, Alexia leapt to her feet, joy bursting within her. “Where? Is she safe? I’m going to her.” She headed to retrieve her quiver and bow.

“Nay, nay, my lady. I see mere glimpses here and there. Hence, I know not where she is or how far away, only that Jarin the Just has found her, and she is safe…for now.”

Halting, Alexia faced her, hiding her disappointment. “’Tis good news, Seraphina. Thank you.”

Friar Josef gestured for them all to gather around him. “I beg you, we must not delay in praying for them.”

“Why so urgent?” Ronar asked.

Seraphina bit her lip, fear tightening the features of her face. “I see darkness, deep, malevolent darkness. It follows close on their trail.”

♥♥♥

By all that was accursed, Cedric would earn his new name! He would no longer be Cedric LeGode, apprentice of Drago. He would be given a title worthy of his power—the dark powers he was learning to wield with such authority. But first he had to prove to Drago how much he had learned and how powerful he had become. Mayhap some day soon, even more powerful than the great warlock Drago himself! Then Cedric’s father would finally grant him the respect he deserved. That or Cedric would simply put a curse on him and squash him like the rodent he was.

From beneath the hood of his black cloak, he gazed over the thirty knights and soldiers dismounting and leading their horses to drink from a creek flowing across the green pasture. They’d been chasing Lady Cristiana and that lily-livered knight Sir Jarin all day across field, forest, and farm. But to no avail. Though they’d been following their tracks, they’d seen neither hint nor hair of them.

Buffoons! Thirty warriors and they could not find one man and one pathetic woman! The woman who left him shamed and dishonored on their wedding day. Not that he’d been overjoyed to wed the shrew, but her rejection had increased not only his father’s ridicule of him, but all of Luxley’s, as well.

Now, as they stopped to rest the horses, Cedric’s impatience bubbled to eruption. He smiled. These men knew not the danger his current temperament put them in.

His narrowed gaze slithered over them, locking onto Sir DeGay, the head of Luxley’s knights, and Sir Borin, head of the bishop’s soldiers, speaking to one another. No doubt planning their next atrocious failure.

Lubberworts! He’d hex them right here and now, if Drago hadn’t instructed him to leave them be.

He spun, his cloak twirling around him, and pulled a black sack from his horse’s saddle. Holding it to his chest, he longed to open it, grab a handful of the black dust, fling it in the air, and say the words that would transform each speck into a ravenous wolf that would do his bidding—and only his.

Nay, he would not waste them on these craven fops.

Strapping the bag back onto the saddle, he put his boot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up.

Demon, his black steed, pawed the ground in anticipation.

Cedric’s sentiments exactly.

Then without bidding the soldiers adieu, he urged Demon into a gallop, tore across the field, and left the incompetent dolts in his wake.

He would find Lady Cristiana and Sir Jarin himself. And when he did, he’d bring them back to Drago and receive his just reward.