Chapter Seventeen

"Why now?" Camden bit out the words. He clutched the missive in his hand. The bold wax seal of Robert II, King of Scotland, taunted him as he strode back and forth in front of his men at the gate. The king had sent riders with the orders to raise a force against the most recent army of English invaders.

Half the castle's warriors gathered in the courtyard at Orrin's command, armed and ready to ride. In the morning mist they appeared to be mythical creatures floating on a cloud, instead of men of flesh and blood. They would once again put their lives on the line for their king and country.

They were the best of men, honorable and true. Camden had no doubt that together they would drive the English back behind their own border. But at what cost to his own household? Would leaving half the warriors behind be enough to keep his people safe?

His men awaited orders. "Repairs to the wall will take at least two more days. I don't like it," Camden said with sudden violence.

"We don't have a choice," Orrin reminded him patiently. "You cannot ignore a summons from our king."

Camden's hand tightened on the missive. "What if this is a trick to draw us away from the castle?"

"The king's seal could not be forged without great difficulty," Orrin reasoned.

Camden frowned down at the bold mark of the king's authority. "It seems incredibly suspicious."

"Or it could be merely bad timing."

"The worst."

Orrin shrugged. "We could send everyone back to Lockhart Castle. The walls there are solid."

Camden shook his head. "It's too dangerous for them to travel with only half the warriors as protection. They are safer here even with the wall breach than out in the open."

Camden crumpled the missive.

"We are not defenseless," Orrin reminded him. "Even with the wall down, even with half our men left behind, we would still be a strong force."

Camden knew that was true. Yet he hesitated. "That is why the king relies so heavily on us. But that doesn't change the fact that with us gone, Lady Violet and Rhiannon are vulnerable."

"We could take them with us," Orrin offered.

Camden frowned. "Battle is no place for women." He continued to pace. "There has to be a solution."

"I will stay behind with them," Orrin offered. "Will that give you peace of mind?"

Camden's gaze shot to his face. "You would do that yet again?"

"If it keeps you from committing treason and from the hangman's noose," Orrin said with a smile that quickly vanished at Camden's dark frown. "I did not mean to "

"No offense taken. I accept your offer to stay behind. With you nearby, I know what happened to Clara will not be repeated." He strode to his horse.

"Mount up, men," Camden ordered. He would do what had to be done. Yet a sense of impending doom pressed down upon him like a heavy shadow. That shadow darkened the dawn as the gates opened and he and his men proceeded south.

The sooner he rid himself of the English who violated Scottish lands and their way of life, the sooner he could return home, where he belonged.

The storms that had plagued the skies over Lee Castle finally moved on, and the sun made a weak appearance through the mist that refused to dissipate. The snow had started to melt, leaving patches of green and brown among the traces of white. Regardless, Rhiannon ventured out with Violet for archer lessons in the outer bailey. The silent shadows of Camden's warriors marked their every move.

Her body ached in unfamiliar places from last night's passion. Camden had been so passionate, yet so gentle when he'd touched her. How had he learned such tenderness when he had matured into manhood in the most hostile of situations?

Violet stood before the makeshift target, her small bow in her hands. She concentrated on the target, then let the arrow fly. The arrow hit the target this time.

"I did it." Violet's wide grin brought a smile to Rhiannon's lips.

"Excellent work. Try it again. This time aim a bit more to the right."

Violet skipped to the target to retrieve her arrow. She raced back to Rhiannon's side, then nocked the arrow once more. A study in concentration, she pulled back the bowstring, squeezed one eye shut, and carefully lined up her shot before loosing the shaft. She squealed in delight as the arrow thudded solidly into the target.

Rhiannon tried to be as enthusiastic as her young charge, but her mind was whirling with anxiety. Was Camden safe? Was he going off to battle her family? She prayed the threat was English, though she knew her brothers were just as capable of treachery. But as ruthless as they were, did she really want Cory and Dougall to die? With them gone, she would be the sole remaining Ruthven. Even though she hadn't considered herself part of the family for years, she still felt a pang of grief at knowing she could be the last of the line.

Rhiannon cast a quick glance at the little girl who skipped back and forth by her side. Rhiannon had been alone until Violet and Camden had entered her life. But maybe now she had a new family of sorts. It was then that another chilling thought occurred to her. If her brothers found out she was living with their sworn enemy, would she be putting Camden and Violet at risk? Would her brothers inflict upon them the same painful end as Clara and James?

Fear twisted around her heart. When would her family's villainy stop?

"Rhiannon?" Violet ceased her archery lesson. She moved to Rhiannon's side and took her hand in her small fingers. "What's wrong?"

What could she say to make Violet understand her turmoil? Even if Camden could eventually learn to see past her Ruthven name and into her heart, could she accept his love knowing that doing so could place him and those he loved in danger?

"I'm merely overtired," she said, hoping Violet would not detect the lie. "Perhaps we should head back inside."

Violet nodded. The little girl gripped her bow in one hand and tightened her grasp on Rhiannon with her other as they headed back to the keep. They had barely entered the courtyard when Mistress Faulkner raced up to greet them.

"Mistress Rhiannon. Lady Violet." She skidded to a halt in a swirl of gray hair and brown skirts. "We need yer help."

Rhiannon's heart dropped to her knees at the woman's pale face and wild eyes. "Has something happened to Lord Lockhart?"

"Nay." She shook her head.

Relief washed over Rhiannon with such intensity that she staggered. Violet's firm grasp on her hand stabilized her. "Then what is the matter?"

"One of the warriors is hurt. It's bad. Please, you must come help the man, or at least tell us what to do."

Rhiannon was no healer. Assisting in the birth of Charlotte's child did not qualify her for anything more. And yet words to the contrary came out of her mouth. "Take us to him."

Mistress Faulkner led them to the keep and into the great hall where the injured warrior had been moved.

"Why did you do it, Rhys?" Orrin asked the man, who stood with the help of two warriors holding onto his arms. His shirt and breeches were wet and soaked in blood, and his hair was a wild wet mass. The man's pale and drawn face made Rhiannon smother a gasp of alarm. She feared it was already too late to do anything for him.

"I had no choice," Rhys said, his breathing raspy and labored. "He threatened to kill my son."

"Who?" Orrin asked, his voice harsh. "Who threatened your child?"

"The bishop," the dying man whispered.

A dark frown settled over Orrin's face.

"Ye must believe me."

"I do." Orrin shook his head. "Seems that man's influence has touched many of our lives."

Rhiannon strode toward the small gathering, curious to know how the injured man had become separated from the others. "Were you one of the warriors fighting with Lord Lockhart?"

"Nay. I was not with Lord Lockhart."

The man brought his glassy gaze to her face. Contrition reflected there. "I'm sorry. I dinna help ye. They shouldn't have tried to burn ye."

Rhiannon's throat thickened at the mention of her own terror.

"What do you mean?"

Orrin spoke for the man. "Because of a threat to his child, this man was forced to help the bishop and his assassin capture you."

The implications of Orrin's words tumbled through Rhiannon's mind. The bishop had tried to burn her alive? A riot of emotions threatened, but she forced them back, her gaze returning to the injured man.

"Lay him near the hearth," she commanded the men. "We must help him."

Orrin signaled the men to move the man to the floor near the warmth of the flames.

"Bring blankets, strips of linen to bind his wound, and some warmed ale," Rhiannon said with authority, though fearing the residents would ignore her as they always had.

Much to her surprise, two women stepped forward. One brought a mug with her. The other, thick woolen blankets that she settled about the man's body. A third woman placed a pile of linen next to Rhiannon, who tied long strips tightly around the man's body, trying to stop the flow of blood. When that was done, she brought the rim of the mug of ale to his lips. "Drink." Her gaze slid to the floor beside the man, then to Orrin's watchful gaze. "If we cannot heal him, is there anything we can do to make him more comfortable?"

"We could use the Charm Stone," Violet said.

A collective gasp echoed through the hall. All eyes turned to the little girl who moved to stand beside the dying man.

Orrin knelt, staring into her face. "What do you know of the Stone?"

"Mummy told me stories. She said our family had a duty to heal our people. That when the time came, I should not fear my destiny."

Orrin's eyes turned hard, expressionless. "Using the Stone could be dangerous for anyone. More so for a child. No one wants you to bear the same burden as your mother."

"The Stone is good," Violet protested. "It's the bad men who want it who are dangerous." She tugged on Rhiannon's hand. "I know where Uncle Camden hid the Stone."

Rhiannon knelt beside Violet, studying her determined face. "How do you know where it is?"

She lifted her chin with pride. "I watched him hide it in the chapel after you helped Charlotte deliver her baby."

Rhiannon startled. The packet she had delivered from Mother Agnes had contained the Charm Stone? Had she known at the time, she would have been terrified. Rhiannon frowned. The bishop had demanded the Stone from her before she'd nearly been burned alive.

The Charm Stone.

Was that how Charlotte and her baby had survived the difficult birth? Rhiannon's gaze dropped to her feet. Was the Charm Stone also the reason her burns and blisters had healed so quickly?

Over the years she'd heard of the magical healings performed throughout their country, but she never thought they were true.

Apparently the stories were real. As was the danger to Violet if she used the Stone to heal this man. "Nay, Violet. This isn't a good idea. Especially not while your uncle is away."

Violet pulled her hand away from Rhiannon's. She frowned down at Rhys. "I can help you. But you must promise to never harm anyone ever again."

"I promise." Rhys' fingers trembled as he raised them from the floor, trying to touch Violet's hand. But he was too weak. His dirty and bloody hand collapsed against the stone of the hearth.

Rhiannon met Orrin's gaze, registered the uncertainty there. "Lord Lockhart will not like this," Rhiannon said.

"I will bear his displeasure if he does not," Orrin said. "Lady Violet, show me where the Stone is hidden."

Rhiannon followed Orrin and Violet up the stairs and down the hallway to the chapel. The chapel's three narrow windows sent streams of hazy light into the small chamber. Violet crossed the room, and the play of sunlight and shadow shifted on her form as she approached the wooden crucifix that hung against the far wall. She slipped her fingers between the wall and the wood, and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in linen.

Violet unwrapped the sacred stone, allowing the linen protection to tumble to the floor. She held her prize from a short silver chain. At the end dangled a silver circle. A small bloodred stone at the center winked in the filtered sunlight as if in greeting.

Was the Charm Stone a prize worth dying for? Rhiannon stared at the Stone, transfixed.

"It has always amazed me that something so small can hold so much power," Orrin said, reaching for the Stone.

Violet tugged the Stone out of his grasp. "We need to help the man."

"Do you know how to use it, Violet?" Rhiannon held out her hand to the girl, lending her more support than guidance.

"Mummy never showed me. But I have to try." Violet took her hand.

Anxiety filled Rhiannon as they made their way back to the great hall. A low rumble of sound greeted them when they reached the chamber. Rhiannon paused at the bottom of the stairs. The room had filled with people come from all corners of the castle. They conversed with each other excitedly.

Violet's grip tightened on her hand. She buried herself in the fabric of Rhiannon's skirt. "Why are they here?" she whispered.

"Curiosity I would imagine." Rhiannon kept moving slowly forward. "It will be all right. Keep the Stone hidden."

From across the room, Mistress Faulkner spotted them and hurried to greet them.

"Is there no way to put the man somewhere more private? If news of this gets out Lady Violet could be in terrible danger," Rhiannon said, her anxiety growing.

"Since James and Clara's deaths and Lord Lockhart's return with her body, there has been talk among the staff about the Charm Stone and its connection to the Lockhart clan. Everyone wants to witness the magic that cost Lady Clara her life. Those who have seen the Charm Stone used before say there is no witchcraft involved. Those who haven't want to see it for themselves." Mistress Faulkner's gaze narrowed on Rhiannon. "If you know what's good for you, you'll not turn them away. They wish to be present during a miracle."

"This is not wise," Orrin said from right behind them.

"Do we have another choice?" Rhiannon asked, wanting his advice more than ever.

"With so many of our warriors gone, there are not enough of us left to enforce rule should they grow restless." He eyed the growing crowd. "But I'm not sure insisting on privacy is the better choice. The Stone was spoken of and they want to see it in practice."

"Heaven help us, for Lady Violet doesn't know how to use the Stone."

"I know its secrets," Orrin said, escorting them through the crowd to the hearth. "The Stone should be dipped into a mug of liquid three times then swirled to the right. Lady Lockhart always ended each use by making the sign of the cross over the body she'd just healed."

Rhiannon knelt down beside Rhys who lay so still before the hearth. Blood seeped from his newly bandaged wound. She pressed a thick length of linen atop the bandages, hoping to further slow the bleeding. "There's no incantation? No ceremony?"

"None."

She frowned. "How is any of that considered witchcraft?"

"It's not." He scooted Violet toward the man. "Be done with this thing before they realize what you are doing."

Rhiannon nodded at Violet's questioning gaze. Rhiannon grabbed the mug of ale the women had brought to the man "We must hurry, Violet. Do as Orrin instructed."

The little girl nodded. She bent over the mug of wine. Quickly, she withdrew the Stone from her gown. She dipped the Charm Stone in the amber-colored liquid three times, then swirled the talisman to the right. Once done, she made the sign of the cross over the man as her mother had done. She wiped the Stone on her hem, then handed it to Rhiannon who tucked the Stone safely into a small pocket inside her gown's skirt.

Someone in the room must have noticed the movements near the hearth. A shout went out across the room, "Prepare for a miracle."

A hush settled over the great hall. With fingers trembling at the audacity of what they dared, Rhiannon brought the mug of ale to the man's lips. "Drink, Rhys." She'd heard Orrin call him by that name. "You must drink."

Rhys tried to lift his head, but could not. Every eye in the chamber rested on her, Rhiannon slipped her hand beneath Rhys' head. She lifted both the cup and the man's head until the two connected and forced the "charmed" liquid past his lips. He swallowed roughly before a spasm of coughing overtook him. Several tense moments passed before he ceased coughing. Blood trickled out his nose and down his chin.

The room was cloaked in silence, as if no one dared to make a sound for fear that the Charm Stone would somehow fail them.

"You must take more liquid," Rhiannon pleaded softly for his ears alone, forcing the liquid past his lips once more. This time he swallowed smoothly. He took another sip, then another until the liquid was gone. Rhiannon sat back.

"What happens now?" Violet asked from her perch near Rhiannon.

"We wait," she replied, forcing a reassuring smile.

"How long?

"As long as it takes." She patted the young girl's hand with confidence even as doubts plagued her. The man was so close to death. Could anything save him?

"Give it time."

Time was something this man did not have. Yet time itself seemed to stretch out endlessly before them as they waited, watched, and prayed.