Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (36 page)

“Hold your fire,” he suddenly
barked, his pale blue eyes widening.  He jockeyed around to get a better view
of the rider. “I… I think I know that man.”

The commander turned to him. “You
know that fool?”

Keir simply lifted an eyebrow at
him, preparing to agree, when he realized that the rider was Michael. The man
emerged from the darkness, like Lucifer from the cloaking caves of Hades. There
was no mistaking Michael’s size or his black and white charger. Keir bolted out
of the ring of fire, heading for the knight.

“Michael!” he shouted, waving a
hand.

Michael caught sight of him and
spurred his charger in Keir’s direction. The charger, foaming and weary, kicked
up clods of earth as it came to a halt within several feet of Keir. Michael
dismounted, nearly falling because he was so fatigued. Keir went to him with a
mixture of great curiosity and great fear.”

“What in the hell are you doing
here?” he demanded.

Michael blew out his cheeks,
exhausted. “Kurtis sent me,” he told him. “Keir, there are problems you must be
aware of.  There was no choice but to ride into Wales and pray that I found
you. I have been following the army for seven days, into Wales and back again. 
It was only by sheer luck that I found you.”

Fear erased whatever curiosity
Keir was feeling, gripping his heart with icy fingers. “And so you have,” he
said. “Is Chloë well? Has something happened to her?”

Michael shook his head. “Chloë is
fine,” he replied.  Then he lifted his hand in a helpless gesture as if unsure
of where to start. “We received a missive from Ingilby four days ago.  It was
addressed to you.”

Keir’s brow furrowed. “A missive
from Ingilby?” he repeated, confused. “What in the hell does the man have to
say to me?”

Michael struggled to be gentle
with him but there was no way to couch such impacting news.  He tried to buffer
the delivery.

“Let us go into the castle and I
will tell you,” he indicated the bastion before them. “I have not eaten in a
day.”

Keir grabbed his arm and refused
to let him move. “You will tell me now,” he commanded. “What does Ingilby have
to say to me?”

Michael sighed heavily.  “Keir,
it would be better.…”

“Tell me now.”

Michael looked at him, knowing he
had no choice.  He removed his helm and scratched at his dark head beneath the
hauberk.

“We received a missive from Ingilby
almost a week ago, addressed to you,” he said, lowering his voice. “Keir, there
is no simple way to put this so I will simply come out with it.  Ingilby claims
to have Merritt in his possession and has offered a trade – your son for
Chloë.  He says he will give you a fortnight to make your decision and if it is
the wrong choice, he will send the boy back to you in pieces.  Chloë has
already decided that she will exchange herself for the boy, thinking that is
what you would want.  Kurtis is trying to hold her off and sent me to find
you.”

Keir stared at him for several
long, painful moments, still as stone, the ice blue eyes wide with shock. 
Michael watched him carefully, seeing no discernable reaction to the news.  He
finally reached out and grasped his arm.

“Keir?” he shook him gently. “Did
you hear me? Ingilby claims to have Merritt and he wants Chloë in exchange for
the boy.”

Keir still didn’t reply. Then, as
Michael held on to his arm, his knees seemed to buckle and Michael grabbed him
so he wouldn’t collapse.  But Keir steadied himself, feeling more shock and
distress than he ever imagined possible.  Like a wave, the impact of the news
washed over him.

“He has Merritt?” he breathed.
“How does he have my son?”

Michael could see how distressed
the man was.  “I do not know,” he said softly. “Let us go and sit somewhere,
Keir. We need to discuss this and I must eat something before I collapse.”

Keir, his face still taut with
shock, simply nodded his head, distracted, moving for the ring of fire and
taking Michael inside the blazing safety.  He somehow made it over to his
possessions, calling for food, and by the time he reached his little corner of
the wall, he fell to his knees.  He simply couldn’t remain upright any longer.

Michael watched him with concern.
When the one-eyed commander came to speak with Keir about something, he noted
how fragile and shaken the man looked.  He looked to Michael questioningly, but
Michael simply shook his head. He did not know what to say.  The one-eyed
commander, sensing that perhaps now was not the best time for any manner of
question, discreetly bowed away.

A soldier handed Michael a cup of
some kind of liquid and a big hunk of bread.  Michael gratefully accepted the
food, crouching down beside Keir, who was still on his knees in the wet, thick
grass.

“We do not know how Ingilby came
across Merritt,” he said to Keir as he tore into the bread. “In fact, we do not
even know for sure that he has Merritt. He could be lying.  But Chloë is so
convinced that he has your son that she is willing to do whatever he says so
you will regain Merritt.  She knows… she knows how much this means to you.”

Keir seemed to snap out of his
trance, looking to Michael with a tightness in his expression that Michael had
never seen before. It was if the impact of the news had stripped away all of
his strength and what was left was a volatile and emotional shell.

“How much it
means
to me?”
he muttered. “God’s Blood, if it is true, then I cannot tell you how much it
means to me.  I have been searching for Merritt for three long years with no
sign of the boy.  And now….”

“As I said, we do not even know
for sure if the boy is really Merritt,” Michael interrupted him. “Kurtis feels
that you must make the decision. He does not want Chloë doing anything foolish
without your knowledge or blessing.”

Keir blinked as if suddenly
realizing that Chloë was already planning something that would take this
decision, this horrible situation, out of his control.  He began to shake his
head.

“There is no question,” he said
in a raspy voice. “Chloë will not go to Ingilby, not ever.  I will ask for
proof that the child Ingilby holds is, in fact, Merritt and then I will
negotiate for his release.”

“Ingilby threatened to kill the
boy if you do not turn Chloë over to him.”

Keir’s expression grew darker.
“If he does, then he shall rue the day, I swear it. I will raze his castle and
put the man to a slow and painful death. I will make him wish a thousand times
over that he had never tangled with me. You will make sure he understands
this.”

“Me?”

“You are going to deliver my
response.”

Michael sighed heavily. “He will
probably kill me, Keir. The man is insane.”

Keir shook his head. “He will not
kill you.  You will deliver the missive from a safe position.  You will, under
no circumstances, enter the grounds of Ripley Castle. And while you are there,
you will demand to be shown the boy.  You will recognize him, Michael. You know
him.”

Michael wriggled his eyebrows. “I
knew him as a baby but he has grown much since that time,” he pointed out.
“What if I am not sure?”

“Then speak with the boy. Find
out what he knows.”

Michael scratched his head, not
particularly happy with the directive. Too many variables and too many things
could go wrong and he didn’t like the fact that the burden had now shifted to
his considerable shoulders.

“He was a baby when he was
abducted,” he reminded him. “What child would recall memories of his infancy?”

“He had Madeleine’s eyes.  You
will know them.”

Michael was obviously reluctant.
“Perhaps,” he said vaguely, not wanting to argue about it because it would not
end well for either of them. He decided to shift the subject, the wiser choice
at the moment. “Chloë, however, seems to have another plan, one that would aid
you in both keeping her and regaining Merritt. It is not an unreasonable plan,
surprisingly.”

Keir shook his head even as the
words left Michael’s mouth. “She should not worry over this,” he said firmly.
“This is an issue for me to decide.”

“She felt otherwise. She felt you
should not have to make the decision because it would tear you apart. She
thought to ease you by making the choice for you.”

“
Ease
me?” Keir’s voice
was full of irony. “She believes it will ease me by turning herself over to Ingilby?
That is madness.”

He was becoming enraged and
Michael held up his hand to ease him.

“She would not, not really,” he
insisted. “Her plan is to commit herself to the convent at St. Wilfrid until
the identity of the boy can be verified.  Ingilby will believe she is being
held by a neutral party until we determine if the boy is truly Merritt, but it
is her intention to seek sanctuary from the Church rather than keep her end of
the bargain with Ingilby.  The baron cannot touch her if the Church protects
her.”

Keir stared at the man as if he
had lost his mind. “Neither can I!” he threw up his hands. “The Church will not
take this lightly, considering she is using them to renig on a bargain. If she
agrees to Ingilby proposal in writing, whether or not she commits herself to
the Church like some holy holding cell, by law she will belong to Ingilby. She
will be his property and he will have every right to take her.”

“Not if you take her first.”

“Then I would be stealing what is
rightfully his, Michael.”

Michael didn’t have a swift
answer for that.  He averted his gaze,chewing on his bread and wondering if the
situation was truly so complicated.

“Then you had better send word
back to Aysgarth,” he muttered. “I am not sure if Kurtis can keep Chloë from
doing as she wishes.  If she feels she is doing what is best for you, then
there will be no stopping her.  Only a missive from you will prevent her from
doing anything foolish, and even then….”

He trailed off and Keir looked at
him, knowing what the man was going to say. He knew it was the truth as well.
If Chloë truly thought she was doing what was best for Keir, a direct missive
from him might not even be strong enough to stop her.  He had no choice. He had
to go in person.

“Gather my belongings,” he
commanded Michael. “I am going to see de Lacy.”

Michael struggled to his feet.
“What are you going to do?”

Keir was already walking for the
gatehouse of Dolwyddelan. “I am returning to Aysgarth to sort out this mess.”

“Now?”

“This very moment.”

Michael sighed heavily. “Can I at
least sleep a few hours?  I have not slept in almost two days.”

Keir cast him a long look over
his shoulder. “Sleep if you wish,” he said. “I am returning to Aysgarth with or
without you.”

Michael pursed his lips irritably
as Keir continued on into the darkness, heading for the gates of the castle
that were lit by heavily smoking torches against the black night. But he did
not pursue. Wisely, he sank back to his buttocks to finish the remainder of his
meal, knowing it might be his last for awhile with Keir in such a determined
mode. Michael was positive they would be on the road back to Aysgarth within
the hour.

When morning dawned, Michael
awoke to the heavy smell of smoke around him as cooking fires took flight in
the early morning air.  It took him a moment to realize he had fallen asleep
for several and Keir had not returned.

***

Haze. Pain
.

Those were the only incoherent thoughts in Chloë’s
mind as she lay in a stupor, hoving just this side of unconsciousness, having
no real grasp of time or space, or even where she was. 

She faded in and out, dreaming of a goat she used to
have as a child.  Occasionally, visions of a knight with pale blue eyes would
enter her dreams and she would reach for him, only to watch him fade into
mist.  When Chloë finally became lucid, it was like being born again.  From
darkness to mist to light, accompanied by pain and shock. A stabbing pain in
her back and torso welcomed her back the world.

A gasp arose from her lips and she could hear her
sister and mother speaking softly to her.  But Chloë had never been any good
with pain and the agony was more than she could bear. She howled and panted as
Cassandra gripped her hand and whispered in her ear.

“I am here, Chloë,” she squeezed her hand tightly.
“I am here, sweetheart. Everything will be well again.”

As Blanche demanded that the physic give her
something, Chloë burst into tears.

“It hurts,” she wept. “What… what….?”

“You fell down the stairs,” Cassandra told her. “You
hurt yourself.”

Chloë sobbed loudly, squeezing her sister’s hand as
she struggled through the pain. “I… I do not…”

“Ease yourself, Chloë,” Blanche instructed softly,
firmly. “The physic will give you something for the pain.”

“Mama?” Chloë heard her mother’s voice and the great
brown eyes rolled open. “Mama?”