CHAPTER TWENTY
Four months later
It was an oddly bright February day, a cool breeze blowing cotton-puff clouds across the expanse of blue sky. In the bailey of Southwell, Rory and Margaret sat in the weak sun near the keep and watched as little David chased Eleanor around in circles. At two years old, Eleanor was a beautiful girl with Sean’s good looks and a brilliant personality. And she adored David; they played like siblings.
Rory sat with Tevin on her lap, grinning as David would poke Eleanor and she would scream with delight. Then David would run at Tevin and make faces at him, turning the baby into a kicking, grinning fool. Tevin was an enormous baby with his mother’s chestnut hair color, his father’s handsome features, startling green eyes and, Rory thought, he was, perhaps, the most beautiful baby ever born. He was bright, chubby, smiled easily and ate constantly. He was the absolute apple of his parents’ eyes.
Contrary to the usual behavior of Medieval fathers, Kieran did not leave the childrearing to others. He was very much a hands-on father and he emerged from the great hall this day, spying his wife and son across the bailey and making his way towards them. David saw him coming and ran to him. The boy found himself up in Kieran’s arms and upside down. David giggled uncontrollably as Kieran came upon the women and shook him playfully before setting him on his feet. Then the man extended his arms for the baby.
“Give me my son,” he commanded.
Rory smiled as she stood up and handed him the boy. Kieran kissed his son, kissed his wife and put his arm around her shoulders. She gazed up at him adoringly as he talked to the baby, unable to remember when a husband and child had not been the center of her life. True, accepting a world with no electricity, running water, bathrooms or cell phones had taken some getting used to. In fact, she was still getting used to it. She had gotten over her phobia of bugs and had simply learned to be vigilant rather than panicked about it. No blow dryers, spas, hair salons, Saks Fifth Avenue or shoe stores. But gazing at Kieran as he crooned to his son made it all worthwhile; she didn’t even think of those modern conveniences any more. They were places that she only visited now in her memories.
“He needs to be fed,” she told Kieran. “He’s going to start getting cranky.”
Kieran acted like he hadn’t heard her. “I do not know who he gets his green eyes from,” he commented, touching the baby’s cheek. “But he clearly looks like me.”
Rory snorted. “He’s your doppelganger,” she said. “I’ve never seen a baby look so much like his father. I was just an incubator.”
“I do not know what your words mean.”
She laughed. “It means that I don’t see anything of me in Tevin other than my hair color,” she said. “And he gets his green eyes from my mother. They’re exactly the same color.”
Kieran looked at her, grinning, before turning back to his son. As he fussed over the boy, Sean walked up beside him and picked up his daughter. Eleanor wanted to kiss Tevin, so Sean leaned her over so she could kiss the baby. Rory watched the scene, so very content with her life. It was sweeter than she could have possibly imagined.
“So what are your plans today?” she put her hands on her hips, focused on Kieran and Sean.
Kieran looked up at her. “I have no plans.”
She shook her head. “Don’t feed me that line. You and your brothers have been huddled in the great hall all morning. You have something up your sleeve.”
Sean looked at Kieran, having no idea what she just said. The woman had phrases and language skills that they were all still trying to comprehend although, after all these months, they were getting better at it. Kieran merely shrugged in a “whatever” gesture and Rory sighed with exasperation.
“What I mean is that you guys have plans you’re not talking about,” she clarified. “What’s going on? Does it have something to do with that rider than came from London yesterday?”
Kieran didn’t look at her and neither did Sean; they pretended to be busy with the children. But Kieran looked up, catching sight of something on the opposite side of the bailey and pointing.
“Look,” he said casually. “There is Christian and his young lady.”
He was attempting to steer her off the subject and doing a poor job. Rory knew what he was up to but she dutifully looked in the direction of the great hall where Christian and Charlotte were walking in the sun. She shook her head at the sight of the tall, redheaded brother and the small girl who had barely gone through puberty.
“I’m sorry,” she turned back to her husband, muttering more to herself. “Call me new-fashioned, but there’s still something wrong with a twenty-six year old man and a thirteen year old girl. In my day, they called it pedophilia.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I suppose I should be happy that he decided to finally let her out of her cage.”
Kieran cocked his head. “They look quite content together. I do not see your concern.”
She knew he didn’t understand her reserve and there wasn’t much more she could say about it even though it had taken Christian months to let the girl have contact with the outside world. She stopped trying to escape almost immediately and since that time, Christian hadn’t seemed so opposed to the match. Still, Rory let the subject drop for the moment. She knew that both Kieran and Sean were tired of hearing her harp about something called a pedophile, although they had no idea what that was and Rory couldn’t adequately explain the concept so they could understand it. So she moved closer to Kieran, wrapping her hands around his forearm as he held the baby. She gazed up at him.
“So what’s going on?” she lowered her voice. “Please tell me.”
He didn’t say anything nor did he look at her. He was focused on the baby. Then he started walking, pulling her along with him. They traveled around the northwest side of the keep, towards the stables, listening to Eleanor’s screams of delight in the distance as David resumed teasing her. Rory listened to the cries, grinning, as Kieran shifted the baby to one arm and took hold of her with the other.
“Acre has fallen,” he said, not looking at her. “The Christian armies have been victorious and thousands of men are now returning home to England. It is a great victory for Richard.”
Rory nodded thoughtfully, noting that the timeline that she had knowledge of and the new timeline seemed to have remained the same. She knew this moment would come and she was vastly relieved. But something else also occurred to her.
“Does Yusef know?” she asked quietly.
Kieran shook his head. “He does not know of his army’s defeat but I will tell him as soon as time permits.”
“Where is he?”
Kieran wriggled his eyebrows. “With that woman from town, I would presume,” he said with some distain in his voice. “He seems very fond of her.”
In spite of the serious subject matter, Rory smiled at his snobbishness. “She is the daughter of the richest man in town. Her father sees nothing wrong with Yusef courting her so I’m not sure why you have a problem with it.”
“He spends much time with her.”
“And I repeat; why do you have a problem with it? The man has got to make his own life here in England. He has a right to a wife and children just like you.”
“I can select a more suitable woman for him.”
Rory lifted an eyebrow at him. “You selected your own wife. Why can’t he?”
Kieran didn’t want to get into the same argument with her. They’d spent the past several weeks in debate over the suitability of the daughter of the richest tavern owner in town and cultured, handsome Yusef. Rory saw nothing wrong with it, as she genuinely liked the woman, but Kieran thought he could do better. So he avoided responding to her altogether.
“There is something more to the news we received.” He wisely veered the subject back to their original focus. “Richard is missing.”
She was successfully diverted. “We knew he would be.”
“Indeed,” Kieran’s jaw flexed and he suddenly seemed disquieted. “God’s Blood, Lib; it was difficult for me to not react to the news. I felt so… so guilty. Almost as if I was an accomplice somehow.”
Rory squeezed his hand. “You’re not an accomplice.”
“I should have sent my own men to escort him home.”
“You couldn’t have,” she said, but stopped and looked at him. “Kieran, if you had, there’s no telling how history would have been changed. You couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Perhaps not.” He didn’t like her answer but knew she was correct. He lifted an eyebrow at her. “I will confess something, however. Up until the moment de Longchamp’s man delivered the news, I had my doubts of your information. I thought that, somehow, you would have been wrong and Richard would have made it home without complication. You will forgive me; I should have never doubted you.”
She smiled faintly. “I forgive you,” she replied. “Has a ransom demand been sent yet?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “To be truthful, we do not even know for certain if he has been kidnapped. He has simply not returned to his holdings in France yet as we have anticipated. It has been several months since he left The Levant so de Longchamp’s assumption is that the king has either been killed or kidnapped.”
She looked up at him, squinting in the weak sunlight. “I think it’s safe to say he’s been kidnapped.”
“I do not doubt you.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Kieran paused, turning to look at her. Rory’s gaze moved between her husband’s brown eyes and Tevin’s bright green ones as he gazed at his mother. She had to smile at the two relatively identical faces looking back at her.
“I must go to London to meet with de Longchamp,” Kieran said, watching Rory smile at the baby.
She stopped smiling and looked up at him again. “I figured as much,” she muttered. “But don’t offer to pay the entire ransom, okay? Remember what we discussed. The timeline of Richard’s release can’t be altered. If it is, there’s no telling how it will affect the future.”
“I am aware of our discussion on the subject.”
“So don’t go offering your entire fortune for the man’s release.”
“I will not offer all of my coinage.”
“Good.” Satisfied, Rory moved on to the next thing on her mind. “Can Tevin and I come?”
“Nay,” he said shortly.
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Because it is not safe for the baby to travel. You know this.”
Her features moved into the familiar pout. “But I don’t want to stay here without you.”
He gave her a very impatient look. “Libby, there are some things I must do without you. This is one of those things.”
She frowned, averting her gaze and looking at her feet. Kieran watched her fidget angrily but, to her credit, she kept her mouth shut. He felt himself softening.
“’Tis not as if I want to leave you or Tevin,” he comforted, reaching out to finger a tendril of her hair. “I never want to leave either of you. But it is far safer if you stay here. I must know that you are safe while I conduct business.”
She still wasn’t convinced. “You need to bring me,” she insisted. “I know what’s going to happen and you may need to consult with me about things. You know as well as I do that Richard’s situation can’t change until it’s meant to change. He can’t be released early or, God forbid, die too soon. We really need to keep a close watch on this situation or the world as I know it will change. Everything will change.”
He studied her a moment, digesting her words. “Then tell me,” he said quietly. “Tell me everything you know about the situation so that I may know it also.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going with you.”
He nodded as if he just understood her completely. “So you would use this information as leverage to get your way.”
Rory opened her mouth to argue with him but shut it almost immediately as she realized he was right. She was doing exactly what he accused her of. So she lowered her head, kicked at the dirt beneath her feet, and remained silent. Kieran watched the top of her chestnut head, wound in a gorgeous bun at the nape of her neck, and began to feel himself relent further.
“Sweetheart, I know that we have not been separated since the moment we met,” he said. “I understand your anxiety. I have a great deal of my own and I do not want to leave my wife and son. But you must understand that it is far more important to me that you remain at Southwell, safe, while I conduct business. As much as I will long for you every day, I also know that my mind will be eased considerably knowing you are safe and knowing that we will see each other again very soon. Does that make any sense?”
She nodded, still staring at her feet. But then she looked up at him, the hazel eyes moist and pleading. “We were returned to this time for a reason, Kieran,” she reminded him. “I know we say that over and over, but it’s true. It’s not just that you were returned, but I was returned with you. Maybe my role in all of this is greater than yours simply because of the knowledge I have. It’s not that I don’t want you to go without me because I’ll be lonely without you or I just don’t want to be left behind. It’s because I feel like I have to. I need to.”
He gazed steadily at her. “You will not be lonely without me?”
She broke down into a grin. “You know what I mean.” She poked him in the arm. “And don’t change the subject. Why do you always assume it’s you with the biggest mission on earth and not me as well? Please, baby, I really need for you to think rationally about this and not just like a Medieval knight who’s trying to protect his lady.”
Tevin was beginning to fuss and Kieran, rather than hand him back to Rory, began to bounce the baby gently. It was clear that he was pondering her statement.
“If you go with me,” he finally said. “The baby must not come. I do not want to risk his life unnecessarily.”
Rory looked stricken. “I’m not leaving him. I can’t; I breast feed him.”
“Then it is more important for you to stay here with him.”
“But…”
Kieran cut her off. “You may go but he must stay. Make your choice.”
She pursed her lips in frustration. “You know my choice will be to stay with him.”
He simply shrugged, his bouncing increasing as the baby’s fussing grew louder. Rory watched the pair a moment before finally holding up her hands.
“Here,” she grumbled. “Give him to me. I have to feed him.”
Kieran kissed his son’s cheek and handed him over. Without a word, Rory headed into the keep. Kieran watched her disappear into the forebuilding as his brother came to stand next to him. Together, they watched Rory’s shapely backside move from view.
“Did you tell her?” Sean asked quietly.
Kieran inhaled deeply, puffing his cheeks out as he turned to face his brother. “I told her of Richard’s disappearance,” he said. “She knows we must go to meet with de Longchamp.”
“You did not tell her about the crown?”
Kieran shook his head slowly. “I did not tell her that I am taking the Crown of Thorns with me,” he said quietly. “She does not know that I intend to use it for Richard’s ransom.”
“We do not even know if he had been kidnapped. He could be lost or delayed somehow.”
Kieran fixed his brother in the eye. “Trust me when I say that the man has been kidnapped. A massive ransom demand will be forthcoming and I intend to offer the Crown of Thorns in exchange for his release.” He paused a moment, thinking on his wife, his son, the life they had come to know since returning to his time. “I have always wondered on the purpose that Rory and I were returned to my time. She and I have been over it innumerable times, attempting to determine why we were brought back together. I have always suspected it has something to do with the Crown of Thorns but to what extent was the mystery. And then it occurred to me; Richard will be kidnapped. From what my wife has told me, it took over a year to raise the money for his ransom and, even then, it was because his mother pawned the crown jewels. Perhaps that is not necessary now; perhaps that is what this crown was meant for – to buy the freedom of a king. What could be more valuable than a holy relic?”
Sean didn’t doubt what his brother apparently knew. “In exchange for the life of a king, I should think it would be a fair trade,” he said softly. “But the question remains; will your wife agree?”
Kieran lifted an eyebrow. “Agree or not, it is my decision. She will have to accept it.”
“Did you discuss it with her?”
“I did not. And you will not, either.”
Sean lifted an eyebrow. “Are you afraid she will prevent you from doing it?”
Kieran lifted his shoulders. “She is fearful that anything I do will change the course of the future and, consequently, the world she knows. But my fears are for my world and the world I know. I want our children to grow up in a land that knows peace and prosperity. What I do, I do for Tevin and Eleanor, and for any other children to follow. I do this for our family.”
Sean sighed faintly. The concept of Rory being from the future and the amazing trip his brother had taken through time and history was still difficult for him to grasp even if he did believe it. “Perhaps you should discuss it with her nonetheless,” he suggested quietly. “She has proven to be wise and insightful.”
Kieran vacillated between a strong, husbandly stance and that of a submissive man. “My decision is made. She will simply have to go along with it.”
Sean cast him a long and doubtful glance. One of Rory’s colloquialisms popped into his mind, something he understood from almost the moment she had said it months ago. It seemed particularly appropriate at this moment.
“Bullshit,” he snorted.
*
“A massive army departed Southwell three days ago. They are heading for London.”
John sat in the great hall of Winchester Castle, a home that had belonged to the kings of England since being built at the time of the Norman invasion. Surrounded by the luxury of the royals, he was crowded by the servants waiting for his command, the soldiers sworn to guard his hall, and the courtiers that hovered around him like giddy children. But at this latest news, he leapt out of his chair, his dark eyes glittering at the scout he had sent to watch Southwell over three months ago. Finally, the news he had been waiting for had come.
“Did Kieran and his brother ride with the army?” he demanded.
The messenger nodded. “With my own eyes did I see them, Your Grace. Sir Kieran Hage was at the head of the army.”
John clapped his dirty hands together. “He rides to de Longchamp,” he said, his devious mind working furiously. He eyed the messenger in mid-thought. “A massive army, you say? How big?”
“Over a thousand at least, Your Grace.”
“Did you see Jeffrey?”
The messenger shook his head. “I only saw the four Hage brothers, plus a host of other knights, Your Grace,” he replied. “Sir Jeffrey was not among the warriors.”
John lifted an eyebrow. “You are certain of this?”
“Certain enough, Your Grace,” he replied. “As soon as the army left, the castle was locked down. I have no way of knowing how many men were left in the fortress considering the size of the army that left. Southwell could not be manned by more than a few hundred.”
The prince digested that statement, turning back for the cushioned chair that sat close to the hearth. He was a small man with a small mind and cold bones. His hands turned into fists as he approached the chair, shaking them in the air and speaking to no one in particular.
“I have waited over a year for this moment,” he hissed, sinking against the cushions. “Kieran Hage has not left the safety of Southwell since January last.”
“His wife delivered a son in October, Your Grace,” one of his thin, badly-smelling courtiers put in. “Our spies informed us that he would not leave her.”
John held up a finger. “But he has left her now,” he muttered thoughtfully. “He is going to see de Longchamp regarding my brother. There could be no doubt. Together, they will undoubtedly try to determine the best way to pay the ransom for Richard.”
“Hage has more wealth than the crown, Your Grace,” the same courtier snorted. “He is undoubtedly bringing chests of gold to pay for the king’s release.”
John glanced at the man. “Undoubtedly,” he agreed, lifting a finger in thoughtful pause. “More importantly, however, he has left something behind at Southwell that belongs to me.”
“What is that, Your Grace?”
John lifted a greasy eyebrow. “The Diadem of Christ.”
The dirty courtier shook his head mockingly. “With only a few hundred soldiers to protect the castle?” he clucked mournfully. “Whatever will become of them if someone breaches the walls?”
The prince’s thoughtful expression faded, being replaced by something dark and sinister. “He should have thought about that before he refused to give me the diadem,” he replied. “I have already proven that I can capture a king. Now I will capture the diadem given to him by the savages of The Levant and prove to the Hage family that they cannot deny or defeat me. I shall win in the end.”
Whispers of approval went up through the room as John rose from the chair and began to pace the floor, accepting the praise that was forthcoming. He extended his arms, like Christ bestowing a blessing.
“Is it not God who said that His punishment shall be swift?” he asked the crowd. “The diadem of Christ was meant for England, not the Church. It is meant for me. Kieran Hage had no right to keep it from me so I shall undo his wrongful deed. And he shall know the meaning of punishment when I raze Southwell and take what is rightfully mine.”
The dirty courtier lifted an eyebrow. “I hear that Lady Hage is a woman of unparalleled beauty. Perhaps she would make an excellent guest to ensure Kieran’s behavior.”
John looked interested. “Perhaps this shall not be an entirely unpleasant undertaking, then, if I am able to obtain Lady Hage’s company.” He whirled to the messenger, still standing where he had left him. “Rouse the troops. The full army shall ride to Southwell and, before the week is out, I intend to have both the diadem and Lady Hage in my possession.”
The messenger scattered, as did several soldiers around the room. John turned back to his courtiers, accepting the congratulations on his brilliant plan.