Onyx (24 page)

“So, you’re paying me to keep quiet? Interesting.” She reached out and grabbed his tartan, feeling the plaid.

“That is me plaid, this is the coin.” He held it right against her hand but she grabbed his hand next and then she reached out and touched the dagger at his side.

“What are ye doin’?” he asked, throwing the coin into her lap and moving away.

“That felt like a gemstone dagger,” she commented.

“So what if it is?”

“It felt cracked.”

He was amazed at how much she knew from just a quick touch.

“’Twas always cracked, e’er since I had it from when I was a bairn.”

She c
huckled then, showing her stained teeth. “I knew you’d come back eventually,” she said. “My daggers always come back home.”

“I
dinna ken what ye mean, auld woman. Now jest tell me how te get inte the castle. Is there a postern gate hidden here somewhere?”

“So, do you love this Lady Lovell
e of Worcestershire?” she asked.

Onyx was taken aback at the woman’s question. “I dinna love anyone,” he said.

“Not even your own mother?”

“I have no
mathair. And I dinna need te answer any more o’ yer doitit questions. Now are ye goin’ te tell me where the postern gate is or no’?”

“
My questions are not stupid, I assure you. Now, give me the dagger and in return I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“
Nay. Ne’er.”

“Why? Does it mean something to you, perhaps?”

“Ferget it,” he said. “I’ll find me own way in.”

“Mayhap you will, but you’ll never accomplish the act you’ve come to do.”

“What do ye mean, auld woman? I’m here te find a laddie, nothin’ more.”

“Oh, you’ll do that.
And you’ll find you’re father as well. But you won’t kill him, especially not with that dagger.”

He was shocked by her words
. How could she know what he’d planned on doing? And he’d only decided on the ride over here to use the dagger instead of his sword to kill his father. He figured his father put that dagger in his so-called coffin for some reason, and he wanted it to be the last thing he saw before he lost his life.

“I’m no’ here te kill anyone,” he tried to convince her.

“You’re a horrible liar,” she said with a chuckle, and that only made him think of Lovelle and how he always knew when she was lying. “Mayhap you should give your father a chance to explain himself before you slit his throat,” she said. “If not, you’re no better than him for putting you in that box and ordering you to be drowned in the sea.”

He froze. How could she possibly know this? She was a witch of some kind. She had to be. And Onyx didn’t like witches. They scared him.

“Here, take back your coin,” she said, throwing it to him. He caught it in one hand and put it back in his pouch. “I don’t want blood money. The postern door is in the vines right next to me,” she said. “But you’ll have to leave your horse here.”

He tied the horse to a tree, then felt along the wall under the ivy n
ext to her. Sure enough, he found a lever, and when he pulled it, a secret door opened leading into the back courtyard.

“You’ll never truly understand lov
e until you’ve lost someone who means the world to you the way the earl has,” she said as he slipped inside.

“No more, au
ld woman.”

“Think befo
re you do something that you might regret for the rest of your life. Give the man a chance . . . Onyx.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He quickly closed the gate behind him, wanting to be away from the blind old witch who seemed to know more of what was inside of him than he knew himself. He didn’t care about love, not really. He’d lived his entire life witho
ut it, so what should it matter? And the only person who ever cared about him was Fenella. And she had taken twenty years and her dying breath before she’d told him she loved him. He didn’t need this in his life. Nay, and he didn’t want anyone to love him.

“Think about your Lady Love,” he heard the witch’s voice as he hurried across the courtyard in the dark. He didn’t want to think about her right now. Because he realize
d she had told him she loved him, from her heart. But as soon as he killed his father, and if she found out, he knew that would change as well.

Chapter 21

Lovelle had been quiet during their trip to Blackpool. Aidan and Ian were quiet as well, and she was only too glad they’d stopped at inns at night instead of camping on the cold ground like she knew they were used to. Still, they’d stayed in the stables while she’d taken a room. But she hadn’t slept in one of them long at all, as she was anxious to keep going and to find Onyx before it was too late. They’d made good time, and with any luck they’d catch up to him before he entered the castle.

T
hey approached Blackpool now, and she couldn’t wait to see her son Charles, and only hoped that he was healthy, or she didn’t know what she’d do.

They’d seen more death on their journey here from the plague, but it was nothing compared to the last time the plague hit England
when she was a child. Those horrific memories would stay with her forever, as well as the scars this revisit of the Black Death was taking.

She wondered how Charles was holding up, and as his mother she wanted more than anything to be there for him. To hold him and hug him and tell him everything was going to be fine, even if she wasn’t sure it really would be. He was just a boy. And though he was strong, she didn’t know what was happening when she was so far away, and this bothered her to no end.

“Me lady,” said Ian. “I see Blackpool Castle up ahead.”

It was dusk, and as they approached, the guards noticed them from atop the battlements.

“I wonder if Onyx is already here,” she said as they rode up to the drawbridge.

“I ken
he’s here,” said Aidan.

“Aye
, no doubt in me mind either,” said Ian.

“How can you two be so sure? Do you see
his horse somewhere?” She looked around but didn’t see it.

“I dinna think he could take his horse wit’ him where he is goin’,” said Aidan.

“What does that mean?”

“Look
up high past the battlements te the back wall by the tower,” said Ian. “But dinna make it obvious, as I dinna think he wants the guards te see him.”

“How could the guards not see him if he is inside
the castle walls?” She answered her own question as she looked upward, and in the darkening sky saw a purple and green tartan scaling the wall to the tower. She didn’t see a rope on him, and noticed him holding onto a few vines trialing upwards, as well as using the arrow slits for footholds as he made his way to the open window at the top. “What in Heaven’s name is he doing?” she asked.

“Sneakin’ in,” said Aidan. “What else?”

“He knows the windows at the top are larger and no’ barred,” said Ian. “’Tis a wonderful idea, I wish I woulda thought o’ it meself.”

Lovell
e felt queasy in her stomach and prayed for Onyx’s safety. And she also prayed that they’d get inside in enough time to stop him from killing his father.

* * *

Onyx used the vines to climb as far as he could, his feet using the
arrow slits as well as the scaffold holes left in the wall from when the castle was built. He finally made it to the top. But when the vines ended and he was still just out of reach of the window, he knew he’d have to come up with another plan.

He spied a pole sticking out from under the window
with a flag on it, but it was just out of reach. If he could just . . . he unwound his tartan from around his shoulder, and tied a loop at the end. Then balancing precariously, he managed to swing the end, catching it, using his tartan to pull himself upwards. Swinging his feet up to the sill of the window, he retrieved his tartan and put it back into place. Then pulling his gemstone dagger from his side, he stepped into the room lit by only one small candle.

He heard voices in the
corridor, and then his heart almost stopped as someone knocked on the door.

“Healer,” he heard a woman’s voice from just outside. “You are needed in the earl’s chamber at once.” Then another knock. “Healer, are you in there?”

He looked around the room, realizing the healer was nowhere to be found. But he saw his bag of herbs and ointments lying on the bed, as well as his long, black cloak and the bird mask stuffed full of dried posies and herbs that was worn by all healers when coming in contact with the plague. This was his chance, he realized. The woman said the healer was needed in the earl’s chamber. He had an idea.

He hurriedly slipped into the cloak, pulling it closed over his plaid.
Then he checked his dagger at his waist next to his sword to make sure they were hidden. He put the mask over his face and pulled the hood up to cover his hair. He hurried to the door and pulled it open.

“Oh!” said the woman, startled. “I will never get used to that
mask. Follow me, please, as the earl needs you right away.”

“Of course,” he said in a low voice, feeling good that h
is identity was concealed. He would kill his father and slip out of the castle unnoticed. This was going to work out better than he’d ever planned.

He followed the girl into the roo
m and saw the back of a man as he sat in a chair by the fire. When he turned around, Onyx recognized him immediately as the man he’d seen four years ago at Montclair Castle. The same man who’d admitted he’d put his son in a chest and ordered him to be thrown into the sea. His father.

“Thank you,” the earl said, dismissing the girl. When the door closed, he knew this was his chance. He took a few steps forward toward the man, and his hand slipped under his ro
be, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his dagger.

“It’s about time you got
here,” the earl said. “I called for you a while ago. You know I don’t like to wait for anything.” He turned back around, his back toward Onyx once again. He was making this way too easy.

“Well, I assure ye, ye did
na wait as long as me fer this moment.”

“You’re a bloody Scot
?” Surprised by this, the man stood and turned, his hand wavering above the hilt of his sword as he looked at him curiously. “I hate the Scots.”

“Some think I’m a Scot
,” Onyx replied. “But then again, some also say I’m really English.” He tore off his mask and threw it to the ground. And then the earl saw his eyes, and gasped and pulled his sword from his belt. But Onyx was faster, and kicked it from his hand, sending it sliding across the floor.

“It’s you!” The earl said, backing away from the tip of Onyx’s dagger now at his throat.

“Aye, ’tis me dear auld Da, or should I say . . . murderer?”

“Son? Is it t
rue? I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

Onyx
backed him toward the bed as he spoke. The bedcurtains were drawn closed, blocking it from his view.

“Surprised te see thet
I’m still here, after ye worked so hard te have me killed, arena ye?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t kill you. You died during birth. I swear.”

“Thet is obviously a lie since I now stand here with me dagger te yer throat. But what isna a lie is thet I am now goin’ te kill ye fer ruinin’ me life.”

But before he could do the deed,
a young boy pulled back the bed curtains and looked at him with sunken, dark eyes.

Suddenly, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill the man he hated right now more than anything in life. Not with a child staring at him with those large, lonely eyes.

In the moment it took to distract him, the earl lunged forward bringing Onyx to the ground. They rolled across the rushes, punching each other, and the dagger was knocked from Onyx’s hand. And just as Onyx was reaching for his sword, the earl retrieved his weapon from the floor, and jumped up and held the tip of his sword to Onyx’s heart.

“Go ahead, ye bastard,” spat Onyx, staring into the eyes of the man who was about to kill him. “Kill me, jest like ye tried te do twenty years ago when ye put me in a box and ordered it thrown inte the sea.”

“I didn’t do that,” he said. “You were already dead, or so I thought. I see now that I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

“Then why dinna ye finish the job ye started so many years ago?”

He was expecting to feel the stab of a sword through his chest, but instead, surprise overtook him as he noticed a tear slip from the man’s eye.

“I won’t kill you, though I can’t say you don’t deserve it for trying to kill me. But you are my son. The son I thought I’d lost so many years ago. And the only reason I ordered you to be thrown into the sea . . .”

“Was becooz of me eyes, admit it. Ye thought I was a demon like everyone else.”

“I did think that, I admit,” he said softly
, nodding his head. “But I would have gladly taken you into my arms even though you looked possessed. The reason I gave the order, son, was because you were the cause of my wife’s death. You see, she died giving birth to you, and that is something I could never accept. I loved Mirabelle more than life itself, and I couldn’t believe that she was gone.”

Onyx didn’t know how to answer, and nei
ther did he have to. The door to the room burst open and in rushed not only Lovelle, but Aidan and Ian too. His friends noticed the earl holding a sword to him and their swords were drawn instantly.

“Nay!” shouted Lovell
e, rushing between the earl and Onyx. “No one will die here today. Now everyone, put away your swords.”

“Love, move away afore ye’re hurt,” said Onyx.

“Why would you try to kill your father?” she shouted. “I miss my father every day, and would do anything to have him back. And earl, why are you holding a sword to your own son?”

“Mama?” came a small voice from th
e bed, and Onyx realized that the boy he’d seen was Lovelle’s son.

“Charles,” she said, taking a step toward him, but the earl grabbed her arm
, moving his sword from Onyx in the process.

“Don’t go near him,” he warned her. “I believe the boy has caught the plague.”

Chapter 22

“Nay!” screamed Lovell
e, trying to pull away from the earl and rush to her son. Onyx jumped to his feet and threw his arms around her.

“Dinna do it, Love.
He could be the cause of yer deith.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.
Now let go of me, he is my son.”

The healer appeared at the door just then, surprise showing on his face that Onyx was wearing his robe.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, entering the room.

“I believe the boy may have the plague,” said the earl.

“Then everyone out,” said the healer, bending down to pick up his mask. When no one moved, he said it again. “Out! This is nothing to be taken lightly.”

“I won’t leave,” Lovell
e cried, and her son just looked at her with those big, sad eyes.

“Mama,” he said
. “I’m scared.”

O
nyx pulled her from the room as she tried to fight him off. Aidan, Ian, and the earl followed. The earl shut the door as they stepped into the corridor, and she reached out and slapped Onyx across the face.

She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but she no longer cared.

“What was thet fer?” he asked.

“Because
, Onyx, you won’t let me near my son.”

“I am tryin’ te save yer life
, lassie.”

“What do
you care about lives? You came here to kill your own father.”

“So
, Onyx is your name then?” the earl asked him, looking at his tartan. “And you are a MacKeefe, just like my daughter Amethyst told me four years ago. You know, you have four sisters named after gemstones too.”

“I dinna care
, and I dinna want te see nor talk te ye, ever again.” Onyx took off down the hall, and Lovelle just let him go.

“What do we do now?” asked Aidan.

“Up until today, if I saw a Scotsman in my castle, I’d run my sword right through him without asking questions,” said the earl, surveying Aidan and Ian.

Their
swords were raised in an instant at that comment, and Lovelle stepped between them and the earl. “Stop it, all of you,” she scolded. “My son is in there possibly dying, and no one even cares.”

“Mayhap we should jest leave,” said Ian to Aidan.

“No. Please stay,” said the earl. “If you are friends of my son’s, then I accept you here . . . as long as you are not going to try to kill me too.”

“We’re no’ here te kill anyone,” said Aidan.

“I once hated the Scots so much, I never even let my daughters see their mother’s Scottish cousin, Clarista.”

“Clarista
is our chieftain’s wife. The MacKeefe.” Aidan told him.

“That’
s right,” said the earl. “We had ill feelings between us for years. But had I known my own son was a . . . was a MacKeefe, things would have been different. I just wish my son would accept me.”

“Give the lad some time,” said Ian. “He is goin’ thru some hard times lately.”

“And how about me?” asked Lovelle, the tears welling in her eyes. “My son is in there and probably dying, yet none of you will let me be with him.”

“You are a noble,” the earl told her. “And you’ve already lost your husband. You can’t take the chance. The healer is in there with him and he’ll let us know more in a while. Now come, all of you
, and let’s go to the great hall and get something to eat.”

* * *

Onyx rushed out the postern gate to
get his horse. He was feeling suffocated again and needed to ride with the air blowing through his hair to clear his head. He wasn’t sure just what happened, but all he knew was that he failed at what he’d come here to do. And he didn’t like to fail at anything.

And now, he felt awful for walking out on Lovell
e when she needed him the most, but he really didn’t want to be anywhere near the man he couldn’t kill – his father.

“Couldn’t do it, could you?”

He was about to mount his horse when he heard the crackly voice of the old, blind hag from behind him.

“Go pester so
meone else, auld woman, or do ye enjoy followin’ me around te tell me I made the wrong choice?”

“I said nothing of the sort,” she said with a slight chuckle. “But obviously you think you’ve mad
e a wrong choice, so what was it that changed your mind?”

“I dinna ken
ye, so there is no need te tell ye anythin’. Now go away. And stop all yer clishmaclaver already.”

“Oh, but you do know me, though you were
too young to remember.”

His foot was in the stirrup and his hands atop the horse, but he stopped when he heard
her words. His bones were aching again, and this told him he was about to hear something that he wouldn’t like.

“What the clootie does thet mean?” he asked.

“It means I was the one to put the dagger in the chest with you when you were a baby.” She walked over to him, and he turned around slowly.

“
’Twas ye, and no’ me faither?”

“Aye, it was.”

“So ye ken what happened, then?”

“I know that you think your father wanted to kill you, but in fact he thought you died in birth.”

“Thet’s what he said, but I dinna believe it.”

“You
were
dead. For a short while. I felt your body when I opened the box and it was cold and lifeless. I rubbed your little chest and willed lifeforce into your body, and you came back to life.”

He thought about this, and somehow knew it was true. He’d been having these little death spells his entire life. They could have start
ed from the day he was born.

“
I still die all the time,” he told her. “The feelin’ overcomes me when I get too anxious. I feel like I canna breathe – and then it happens.”

“You don’t really die,” she told him. “Not since that first time. You are only reliving the feeling of what happened to you on that
traumatic day of your birth. Once you learn to let go of the past, your little death spells will disappear completely.”

“How can ye ken this . . . are ye a witch?”

“Why do you need to put a title on me?” she asked. “Don’t you hate when people call you a demon?”