Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (29 page)

“It is my intention to go to the
knight’s quarters, secure my gear, and retain thirty men at arms to accompany
me to Glastonbury,” Kenneth said. “I would appreciate it if you could find Bradley
and have him prepare the men.”

“I will. Anything else?”

“The priest. He will go with us
to identify the men that hold her.”

“Wouldn’t want to charge headlong
into the wrong nest of bandits, eh?”

Kenneth’s mind was already
preparing for the battle to come, envisioning victory.  More than vengeance, he
simply wanted Aubrielle back in his arms, safe and whole.

“I want to look into the eyes of
the men who took Aubrielle from me,” he said quietly. “Let there be no mistake.
They will pay.”

Argus’ eyes glittered knowingly.
“The price will undoubtedly be high.”

Kenneth did not reply. They both
knew the answer.

***

She had waited until well after
mid-night before making her move. Aubrielle had spent her entire life escaping
one way or the other and was well-versed in covert tactics. She was cunning and
smart, as her mother, father, the monks at St. Wenburgh, and even Kenneth had
discovered on occasion. Though there were two men on duty, it had been
relatively simple to slip past them and into the woods. Once inside the trees,
she ran as fast and as hard as she could and never looked back.

She’d been planning her escape
since sundown. She knew in which direction Bristol was and headed for the town.
It would be easier to lose herself in the bustle of the big city. She knew that
de Gaul would hunt her down and she had every intention of erasing her trail.

Nestled in Somerset, Bristol was
a large town, much larger than most of the villages that were scattered over
this section of the country.  From her days at St. Wenburgh, Aubrielle knew
that Bristol was near the sea; she couldn’t see it, but she had been smelling
it all day.  She also knew it was about a day’s ride to Glastonbury. To be so
close to Glastonbury would have been maddening had she given it much thought.
But all she could think of was returning to Kirk, to tend Kenneth’s grave, and
to assume her position as heiress to the earldom of Wrexham. Strange how she
had never wanted any of it, but now with Kenneth gone, she somehow felt it an
appropriate tribute to his memory. They were to share it together, and now she
was to face her destiny alone.  She would return to Kirk and take her place. It
was what Kenneth would have wanted.

She ran until she could run no
more. She could see the town ahead of her and outlying farms. She turned to her
right and passed the first few farms. She didn’t want to make it easy for de
Gaul to find her.  Randomly selecting a small, dilapidated barn somewhere
closer to the town, she slipped inside.

There were a herd of goats, a cow,
and a very old-looking horse inside. It smelled strongly of urine and hay. A
small loft was above her and she was exhausted. There was no ladder, but a few
pieces of wood secured against the wall provided access. Climbing the wood in
her heavy, torn and wet dress was a feat, but she managed. The hay was piled up
against the narrow side of the loft and she threw herself into it. Able to
relax for the first time in a week, she drifted quickly to sleep.

It was bright when next she
opened her eyes.  She thought she heard voices and, even in her exhausted
state, experienced a flash of panic. She found herself staring into two small
faces and two curious sets of eyes.  Quickly, she sat up, cowering back against
the wall.

“Do not be frightened. We will
not hurt you.”

Aubrielle blinked her sleepy
eyes, thinking maybe she was dreaming. The face was small but the features were
clearly mature. It was also male, as was his companion.  But the voice that
came forth was strangely deep, yet squeaky in quality. It was a very strange
combination. He held out an enormous hand.

“Please,” the little man said.
“Do not be afraid. We’ve been looking for you.”

It took Aubrielle a moment to
realize that these two little men were not within the norm. In a world where
fairies and elves were readily accepted, she had never seen one and, therefore,
did not believe in their existence. But these two small men could have easily
been taken for those from the other world. Yet Aubrielle was practical; she had
seen dwarfs before. Argus himself was a dwarf.  

“I am not afraid,” she said.
“What do you mean when you say that you’ve been looking for me?”

The two little men could see that
she was standoffish, suspicious. “I am Miach, and this is Lugh,” the first man
indicated his companion. “We have come to help you.”

Aubrielle thought she was
dreaming again. They made absolutely no sense at all. “What do you mean? Who
are you, and how did you know I was here?”

“We were asked to help you,” the
second man, Lugh, said. “You are a
senhora do rolo de papel
, are you
not?”

“I have no idea what you just
said.”

“The lady of the scroll.”

It took Aubrielle a brief second
of indecision before she shoved one of the little men aside and made haste for
the wooden steps that led from the loft. The men hastened after her.

“My lady, wait,” Miach pleaded.
“We mean you no harm, truly. But you are the Lady and we have been asked to
help you!”

Aubrielle kicked out, throwing
Lugh back on his buttocks. “Leave me alone! I will not go back to him, do you
hear? I will not go back!”

She had her hands on the first
rung of the ladder. Miach caught up to her.

“Please, my lady,” he pleaded.
“If you leave now, he will find you.”

She froze, eyeing the little men,
terrified and bewildered.  Miach nodded his head to support his last statement.
“He is close. If you leave, he will find you.”

Aubrielle’s heart was racing and
she fought her natural instinct to run. The little man’s expression was sincere
and she was inclined to believe him. “De Gaul?”

“You must stay here. Wait until
darkness.”

After several long, agonizing
moments, she let go of the make shift ladder. Taking a deep breath, she labored
to calm herself and think rationally.

“Tell me everything,” she said.
“Who are you, really?”

“Miach and…”

She put up a quelling hand. “Lugh,
aye, I heard you the first time. But why did you call me the Lady of the
Scroll?”

Miach smiled as if she had asked
the most rudimentary of questions. “Because that is what you have always been.
We have always known you.”

“Who are you?”

“You have always known us, too.”

Aubrielle shook her head slowly,
having difficulty following their cryptic words. “I do not know you, little
man.”

Before Miach could reply, Lugh
spoke softly behind him. “That Munsalvaesche wants for its Grail, for the
knights, the
aeterno defensor
, have taken it to
Insula Vitrum
to
restore the health of the sleeping land’.”

The color drained from Aubrielle’s
face.  “How did you know that?” she whispered.

“We have been raised in this
tradition, for thirty generations. We have been born to protect that which Christendom
holds most sacred.  We have known of your coming. We are here to help you.”

“I do not understand.”

“We are the
aeterno defensor
.”

“The knights of Munsalvaesche?” Aubrielle
repeated with disbelief. “I cannot consider that possibility. They are myth.”

“Myths are borne from reality.
Our kind has never died. We are the farmers of the field, or the smith, or the
physic. We do not exist as we used to, as a collective group of knights. That
day is gone. But when we are called upon, we amass once again to protect our
legacy.”

“So you hide?”

“We conceal. It has become
necessary not to attract attention to ourselves, where once we were proud and
open.”

Aubrielle gazed steadily at the
man. Perhaps there was truth to what he said. The knights of Munsalvaesche had
been forced to evolve with the time, through the Dark Ages, into the age they
now knew.   There were those, such as de Gaul, who searched for the Grail with
a darker purpose. But there had also been those whose purpose had been altruistic.

Slowly, she shook her head. “I
cannot believe you.”

“Perhaps not. But will you trust
us?”

Aubrielle did not have much
choice. These little men had found her and could easily alert de Gaul were they
so inclined. “If you really are who you say you are, then prove this to me. Why
did Arthur and his knights not find the Grail when they searched for it? Did
the knights of Munsalvaesche somehow prevent this?”

 Miach and Lugh smiled in tandem.
“They had the Grail all of the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you not understand, my lady?”
Miach asked quietly. “Throughout time, the Grail has always been one thing –
the strength of mankind and the legacy of our future. Every age had their
Grail. Our Lord Jesus was in possession of his Grail, the strength of his future
and lineage. When Our Lord was crucified, the Grail came to Munsalvaesche and
we protected her.”

The last word in his sentence was
not lost on Aubrielle. She repeated the word slowly. “Her?”

Miach nodded. “Think on your
history, my lady. The Grail was indeed a vessel, but not an inanimate one; it
was a living vessel. The original Grail was Mary Magdalene, for she gave Christ
strength and continued his legacy. For Arthur, his Grail was Guinevere, only he
did not realize it. He spent years searching for what he already had, if he’d
only allowed her to achieve her potential. She was his life and legacy that was
never to be. And you… you carry their destiny also. Every age has its Grail.
That is why we are here to protect you.”

Somehow, it all made sense. Anything
she had ever read about the Grail, like pieces of a giant puzzle, were coming
together in a logical fashion. She had once told Kenneth in a fit of emotion
that he was her Grail; perhaps it had been the other way around. She had always
known it wasn’t an object, but something else. It never occurred to her that it
was a human, and least of all, her.  The mere thought that it might actually be
true was overwhelming, beyond what she could possibly comprehend.

“Who told you I was here?”

“One of our order who was sent
long ago to watch for you.  Not directly, of course, but indirectly. He took
his commission at Kirk Castle, always close enough to catch word of you from
time to time.  When you came to Kirk last month, we rejoiced.”

Aubrielle stared at the little
men. The name of their cohort came to her lips before she could think it.
“Argus.”

“Son of
Nuadu
Airgetlam
of the healing order.  He sent word to us that you were missing.
He asked us to find you before harm befell you.” Miach grew serious as he spoke.
“We did not foresee the path your life has taken; the men who are after you are
evil, my lady. They have caused much grief in the name of God.”

Aubrielle’s eyes filled with
tears. Her hand covered her mouth, keeping the sobs at bay. She was having a difficult
time coming to terms with what the little men were telling her.

“If what you say is true, then
how did Argus send word to you?”

“There are many ways, my lady.
People are not the only living creatures with a language. There are birds,
crickets, the fish in the streams. All one need do is speak; then you must know
how to listen.”

She wiped her eyes. “Are you
telling me that Argus told a bird that I had been abducted and the bird flew to
you?”

Miach smiled. “Something like
that. A note tied to the bird’s foot will do just as well.”

It made more sense now. The
mysticism was still strong, but Aubrielle was coming to understand that there
were more earthly forces at work.  Yet the fact remained that these little men
were here to help her, and she felt a sense of overwhelming hope.

“I… I just want to go home,” she
murmured. “My beloved… those evil men killed him. If for no other reason, I
must go home to see that he is properly taken care of.”

Miach’s grin broadened and he
took her small, cold hand in his big warm one.  “I am told that a knight rides
even now to save you. Perhaps your beloved was not killed after all.”

It was too much to hope for. Aubrielle
burst into soft sobs, squeezing the dwarf’s hand thankfully. As she wiped her
nose and listened to Miach’s soft words of comfort, Lugh climbed to the wall of
the barn, peering out from between the slats. There was activity outside,
nearly the tree line in the distance. He hissed at the others.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered. “I
see men in the trees.”

Aubrielle’s tears instantly faded
as she and Miach scrambled over to the wall. The slats were wide and they were
able to gain a view of the trees in the distance. They could see movement and
when Aubrielle was finally able to focus on a figure, her blood ran to ice.