Edge of Twilight (35 page)

T
he priest sucked in a sharp gasp, and 'Beta held my eyes and shook her head firmly.

“Not like that, my love. Not like that.” And then she turned to the priest. “Marry us, or don't. You'll not be harmed either way. We shall simply leave this place and find another who will.”

He agreed, not because of her reasoning, but out of fear of me. He knew I did not make threats I would not carry out, and didn't trust this mite of a woman's ability to temper my rage. Nodding his acceptance, he said, “I will meet with you in the castle's chapel in an hour. Is that acceptable?”

“It is,” I told him, and with my bride in the circle of my arms, I tugged her from the cottage.

From there we mounted my horse and rode to the castle, where we woke every servant and friend, relative and guest of the king. He still hadn't returned from whatever journey he'd undertaken, which worried me. The man believed me to be his son, despite that it wasn't so. He didn't often keep things from me.

At any rate, I shouted orders in a way that must have shocked and surprised them all, for I tended to keep to
myself and to remain quiet and undemanding, so long as my privacy was respected. Not tonight. Tonight my often morose expression was replaced with a beaming smile, and my orders were given joyfully.

By the time the hour had passed, the servants had located a beautiful gown for my lady—the color of rich cream. They had gathered flowers for her to carry, and even tucked a few blossoms into her hair; forget-me-nots, their tiny blue heads as delicate as 'Beta herself. They had awakened minstrels and the cook to alert them to the impending celebration and set them to work preparing the hall.

“You are so beautiful,” I told my bride as she came to stand beside me before the priest. “I am almost convinced this is all no more than a sweet dream, and that I will awaken to the lonely reality of my life as it was before.”

“It is a dream,” she told me softly. “A dream come true.”

The tiny stone chapel was filled with people—strangers, servants and people who feared me—as my beloved and I knelt at the altar that night, and she pledged to be mine forever, and I pledged to cherish her always. Little did those gathered to witness our vows know just how much more those promises meant when spoken by a man who would never die.

And then it was done, and I took her into my arms and sealed our bond by pressing my lips to hers. I thought that fate, for once, had smiled upon me. I was glad to be alive for the first time in centuries. I relished this life; I thanked the fates that it was eternal, for surely I thought 'Beta would agree to let me share the dark gift with her. To make her as I was. To be with me for all eternity.

Surely she would.

A
s eager as I was to carry my bride to our bedchamber, I knew she deserved a celebration worthy of her. For though a commoner, she was far more. A descendant, no doubt, of some ancient royal line. It was the tale I would weave for the world. And one I had no reason to doubt could be true.

For how could a family produce a woman like her without having royal blood in its lineage? How? One so perfect, with the face of an angel and the gold-spun hair to go with it. And those eyes, those piercing, bewitching black eyes.

How I loved her. My jewel. My princess.

Musicians played their lyres and flutes as we entered the castle hall. The cooks began lining tables with the foods they'd managed to prepare in short order, while the smells of still-roasting meats filled the hall and watered the mouths of all present. Ale and wine flowed, and I danced with my bride and saw her cheeks pink with joy, even though the rest of her countenance seemed to pale.

Holding her in my arms, I frowned at her. “Are you feeling worn out from all of this?”

“Only a little tired. But my love, I don't wish for this night to end.”

“It must. All nights do. Be
we
need not end, 'Beta. Not ever.”

She smiled and rested her head against me. “I know.”

Before I could ask if that meant she had made up her mind, the doors burst open, and the entire room fell silent. The music and dancing stopped. The eating and talking stopped. Everyone went still. I turned to see my so-called father, the king, standing just inside the entryway, flanked by soldiers-in-arms.

He found my gaze across the crowed room, spoke softly to his men, and made his way to me. “It seems I've interrupted a celebration,” he said. “And my morose son, with a smile on his face and a beautiful prize in his arms. Dare I hope—?”

“She is my wife, Father,” I told him. “Elisabeta. Your father and your king.”

I felt her hand tremble as she dropped to her knees before the king, lowering her head.

“Rise, child. Rise,” the king said. He bent, and taking her shoulders, helped her to stand. “You are a princess, and far too special and beautiful to bow before an old man.”

Smiling, he kissed her cheeks, then turned to face me, still holding 'Beta's hands. “So sudden?”

“I had only to gaze upon her once to know she was the one,” I said, uncustomarily sentimental. “I could not wait, not even for you.”

“I would not have had you delay. Truly, you've claimed a rare treasure, my son. I only wish I didn't have to spoil your celebration with dire news.”

I frowned. “You went on a secret journey—and took
with you soldiers, I see,” I said, nodding toward the soldiers who remained near the door. “Soldiers who don't seem eager to join in tonight's revelry.”

The king grabbed a passing servant. “Tell my men they may eat, but not drink any wine or ale. And remind them to remain alert,” he commanded.

This alarmed me more. “What is it, my king?”

“I left to verify rumors of enemy troops amassing at our northern borders. Saw no reason to disturb you with what was, then, just gossip. But I found it to be true. We are being invaded, my son. We are at war.”

“W
e need to turn them back before they cross the river. My son, we need every man, or the kingdom will fall.”

I owed the man so much. My life. Had he not taken me in, accepted me as his son, I would never have found my wonderful bride. I could not refuse him. And I knew what he did not—that I was his most powerful warrior. Turning, I stared down at Elisabeta.

She gazed up at me, love and fear in her eyes. “I don't want you to go,” she whispered.

“I wish I didn't have to. Come.” I took her with me, leaving my father to put an end to the revelry as he must. We climbed the curving stone staircase to my bedchamber—our bedchamber.

Its window hole was covered by thick layers of black cloth, for my protection when I slept there by day. The bed was huge and comfortable, and it, too, was surrounded in dark curtains as an added defense against the sun. The door could be barred from within. I didn't bar it, only closed it behind us, and moving to the window, I tore the cloth away.

“My bride will see the sun for as long as she can,” I told her.

“Put it back!” She flung herself into my arms. “I've made my decision,” she told me. “I'll be as you are, I will. I wish to be with you always. Just please, don't go. Don't go to war, my love.”

I held her, rocked her gently in my arms, kissed her hair, her face. “Don't fear for me, my precious 'Beta. I'm immortal.”

“But you can die. You told me so! The sun, the bleeding…suppose you are pierced with a sword or an arrow?”

“I promise you, I will not die. I will return to you. And when I do, if you still wish it, I'll instill in you the spirit that lives in me. That of eternal life.”

“Do it now.”

I pushed her hair from her tear damp face, and shook my head. “I need to be with you afterward. I need to help you understand what you'll be experiencing, to explain to you, to hold you through it all. It's like a death, Elisabeta. A death and a rebirthing. You cannot go through such a change alone. I won't have it.”

“Then stay. Stay and do all those things. Stay with me for always as you promised to do before the priest!”

I lowered my head as grief made my voice catch in my throat. “I cannot. I simply cannot.”

She trembled and wept, and I tipped her face to mine and kissed her, tasting her tears. “I love you, 'Beta. Who knew a man could fall so deeply in love so suddenly? You…you've stricken my heart like a bolt of lightning. Nothing could keep me from you. Not ever.”

“Let me come with you,” she whispered against my neck.

I closed my eyes in sweet agony. Gods, it was tempting. To have her by my side…but I knew better. “You're not strong enough. You must conserve your energy, rest,
and be well until I return. The battle will be fierce and I expect, over within a day or two at most.”

“What if it's more?” she asked me. “What if you stay away too long and I die in your absence?”

“I
f it's more than two days, I'll return for you. You have weeks, perhaps months yet, 'Beta. I promise.”

“I love you,” she told me.

“You are the princess of this keep,” I told her. “There is no queen. Anything you desire, you have but to ask. The servants love you already.”

I heard horses below as soldiers made ready. “I have to go.”

“I love you,” she told me, again, and kissed me desperately. “With all I am, I love you!”

“And I you.” With deep regret, I withdrew from her arms to don my battle gear, my weapons. She walked with me down the stairs and out into the courtyard, and bless her for it, her eyes were dry as we joined the others there, her chin held high. Queen-like, she was. Glorious.

I kissed her once more as I mounted
Soare
, and I felt her eyes on my back as we all rode away to face battle.

It was fierce, the combat. We fought for three days straight, and all that prevented me from returning to her after the first two as I had promised, was the certainty that it would end on the third. We had but to press on to achieve our victory. For me to pull out then might
have ensured defeat. And so I broke my promise to my bride.

When I returned, it was to see the chapel doors thrown wide, servants, villagers, everyone who hadn't been with us in battle, filing in and out, wailing and weeping aloud. Flower petals lined the path outside.

Frowning, I dismounted and hurried forward, asking first one person and then another what was happening. Was this a service for all the fallen soldiers? It couldn't have been for we had only just returned with their bodies.

But each person I approached only looked at me in something like shock, and then backed away, crossing themselves and muttering prayers.

Baffled, I shouldered my way through the crowd, and into the chapel. And then I died inside, for I saw her.

My beloved Elisabeta lay on the same bier where she had wept for me only four nights prior. Her golden hair spread around her, and the finest gown she had ever owned covered her slender frame.

A cry like that of a wounded animal was wrenched from the depths of my soul as I ran to her, gathered her into my arms, and felt no life in her. She was cold. Stiff.

“No! No!” I cried. “By the Gods, it cannot be.”

“Come, my son—”

The priest was there, his hand on my shoulder, but I whirled on him, on all of them, screaming at them to get out. To leave me to my grief. And they did, all except one mourner who waited silently, in the shadows a good distance from me. For hours she waited there, while I wept and held Elisabeta's body in my arms, and railed against the Gods, against Fate for having given me such bliss only to rip it from my hands.

Eventually, the rage ebbed and I knew what I must do. If my beloved would leave this life, then I would go with her. I'd no desire to live without her. And perhaps, somehow, we would be together again on the other side.

My decision made, I moved to return to the cliffs where my life would end, after all.

“I
t's nearing dawn,” a woman's voice said. “You weep over her body any longer and you'll burn with the sunrise.”

I gently laid Elisabeta's body down, and turned to face the woman.

I knew her. I had given her the Dark Gift long, long ago, when she'd been a princess in Egypt, rejected by her father, the Pharoah, and sent to the temple to be raised by Priestesses of Isis.

“Rhianikki,” I said.

“I go by Rhiannon now.” She stepped out of the shadows, her long jet black hair reaching to her waist, a gown of fine gold fabric draping from her shoulders to her feet and leaving her slender arms bare. She nodded to a spot beyond me. “It's a beautiful likeness, isn't it?”

I turned to see a painting, a portrait of my Elisabeta hanging on the chapel wall. It so captured her beauty and her spirit, it took my breath away.

“She had the artist working day and night from the moment you left. It was to be a wedding gift to you upon your return.”

I could barely raise my head, my grief was so powerful. “What happened to her?” I asked.

“She was told you had died in battle. That uncle of hers, I believe. She didn't believe it until the second day had passed without word. It was only twelve hours ago, at dawn on the third day, that she threw herself from the tower, in order to join you, her prince. One of the servants heard her cry out that were you alive, you would have returned to her by then. She'd barred the chamber door from within; no one could get to her in time.”

It was more than I could bear. I dropped to my knees. “Then it was my broken promise that cost her life.” Shaking my head, I said, “Why did you tell me I would find her here, if she was only going to leave me again, Rhiannon?”

She sighed and lowered her head. “It wasn't supposed to happen this way. I did not foresee this, my friend.”

I nodded, believing her. “No matter. I will join her, soon enough.”

Rhiannon came to me, placed her hand on my shoulder. “Always you've been so morose. Always. Hating your eternal life, resenting it, mourning your loneliness. There's nothing in the world so tiresome as a vampire unable to embrace his nature. At least now you have reason for your constant melancholy.”

I lifted my head, knew she was leading up to some argument as to why I should live on. “I won't go on without her,” I said, hoping to forestall her words.

“Yes,” she said, “you will. Shall I tell you why?”

Blinking the salty dryness from my eyes, I nodded, and managed to get to my feet again. “I don't suppose I have a choice. Go on, tell me why I would put myself through the hell of living even one more day without her?”

“I have had a vision,” she told me. “I don't get them
often—less and less as I grow older and more powerful. But this one was real and it was strong. Do not even think to doubt its veracity.”

“No one dares to doubt or question the immortal princess of the Nile, do they?” Bitterness, not humor, laced my words. “Go on, if you must. I cannot walk into the sunrise until it comes, and there is still an hour of hell to endure before then. So go on, tell me of this vision.”

“She will return to you.”

My head came up, my heart leaping in my chest.

“Oh, it will not be easy. For first and foremost you must remain alive until she does. If not, there's no telling whether the two of you will ever find one another again. So you cannot, you see, walk into the sunrise. You must live, in spite of your pain. For her.”

I shook my head. “I would do anything for her. But…for how long?”

Even the most hard-hearted vampiress in the world could not hold my gaze as she whispered the length of my sentence. “Five-hundred years. Or thereabouts.”

I stumbled. She caught me, kept me from falling.

“You will find her in a place called New Hampshire. In a village called Endover. That is where she will return to you five centuries hence—if you can endure that long.”

I faced Rhiannon squarely. “I've never heard of such a place.”

“That's because it doesn't yet exist.”

I held her gaze, probed it. “Are you certain?”

“I am.”

Sighing, I returned to my beloved, to her body, the shell that had once housed her. I leaned over her, and I kissed her still, cold lips. “I will try, my love. I vow, I will try. Though living that long without you might very well do me in. If I can last, for you, I will.”

I closed my eyes on the hot tears that welled in their depths, and I moaned, “Come back to me, Elisabeta.”

From somewhere beyond the walls of the chapel, I swore I heard her voice whisper, “I will.”