My Lady Witch

                         Chapter One

                        England present day,

            Madison gripped the straightening iron and slowly pulled it down her remaining lock of bouncing, red curls, taming the uncontrollable mass, and finally achieving the desired look. She gazed into the hotel’s wide bathroom mirror, taking in her pale complexion and attempted to evaluate her life, all nineteen years of it.

They hadn’t all been bad, had they?

She shrugged out of her overlarge pajamas and pulled on her boring black suit. A long sleeved jacket that she wore over a plain white, button down blouse, with a mid-length black skirt. Considering where she was headed this afternoon, her drab attire was, in fact, quite appropriate. 

She, along with her father, arrived in England two days earlier to attend her estranged grandmother’s funeral. Today they were to meet with the old woman’s attorney. Madison was more than positive that if it wasn’t for the woman’s millions, her father would have been content to remain at home in the states, sinking deeper into his present addiction.

Madison sat carefully on the edge of the tub to pull on her favorite pair of black heels. They were misery for the toes, but oh how she loved the way they made her feet look so petite. She paused a moment to admire the delicate angel wing tattoo on her left ankle, a small smile parting her lips. It was a moment of teen-age rebellion. A reminder of a time in her life when all she wanted was to be heard. She could still hear her mother’s voice echoing in her ears. “You’ll regret it Maddy, maybe not today, but one day you’ll regret it.”

Her smile faded. Two years later, her mother packed her bags and left without so much as a goodbye or a second look over her shoulder. It had been a shock to Madison and it sent her alcoholic, arrogant father into an even faster downward spiral that left them in their present state: barely speaking and nearly bankrupt. Her once tolerable father was now a man that she cared little to know, let alone to inform others he was related. 

He was so obsessed with his drink, he rarely had time to see to his daughter’s needs. He’d even tried to pawn his burden off on his mother, only to be quickly refused.  Her grandmother’s refusal was more of a rejection to Madison who’d prayed that her grandmother, would be kind enough to offer her only grandchild the coveted home her father could never provide. The old woman’s denial broke Madison’s heart and left her feeling unwanted and rejected by the only family she had left.

When the news arrived of her grandmother’s death, along with the summons to England from the old woman’s attorney, it left Madison terribly confused. Her father, on the other hand, nearly jumped for joy. She knew there was no love lost between her father and his aristocratic mother, he simply knew his mother had million’s and they must go somewhere. As he was the only heir, he figured his mother’s fortune would fit nicely in his empty pockets.

Madison rolled her eyes in annoyance at her father’s fist banging on the door, telling her, in his own subtle way, to hurry it up.

She looked again to the mirror and stared at her pale reflection. She looked so much like her mother it was almost scary. The same pale skin, a soft dusting of freckles across her stubby nose, light blue eyes, and a mass of long, thick curly red hair that always seemed to have a mind of it’s own. 

The similarities made her shudder, and caused her to think maybe this was why she felt she had to straighten her bouncy locks in hope that maybe, just maybe, if she could alter her appearance in even the slightest way, her father wouldn’t despise her for reminding him daily of the woman he’d driven away.

Madison blinked at the woman in the mirror and wanted nothing more than to ask her why she left her daughter behind to be raised by a man who could barely take care of himself. It was a stupid question that would never be answered, so she put it behind her, straightened her suit and told herself she would be the woman she longed to be. If only she could find that courageous, beautiful woman hiding behind her self doubt and sorrow?

She pulled her eyes from her reflection and reached across the counter to retrieve her black leather bag. She pulled open it’s zipperless mouth and peered down at her belongings.  Everything from candy to sleeping pills, CD player with a few personalized CD’s, cell phone, wallet, her passport and a bit of make up.  She hated to travel and having everything she needed at her fingertips put her nerves at ease.

“Maddy I’m leaving now, with or without you.”  Her father’s voice boomed through the door, a slight slur to his bellowing words. It was only midmorning and he was already drinking, a confirmation to her of how serious his addiction had become.

Madison sprayed her neck with a bit of perfume, threw the bottle into the bag then slung it over her shoulder and straightened her frame.

“Two weeks,” she whispered to herself. “Two weeks is all you need.” She’d managed to find the perfect school and the perfect scholarship that would help pay for most of tuition and give her the freedom her soul needed from her fathers disturbing presence. He’d made fun of her for choosing dance as a major and told her that no school would want her. Nonetheless she’d been accepted and celebrated her victory alone. But heaven help her to endure just two more weeks.

                                                            *  *  *  *  *

Madison sat in a rather uncomfortable chair, wide-eyed and barely breathing as her future was laid out before her. The attorney’s mouth was moving, but the words he spoke were unbelievable.

The small round little man dismissed her father completely, causing him to fume in the corner, sipping some drink from a small flask he concealed inside his jacket pocket. He did very little to mask his anger, as everything that should have gone to him was placed neatly in his daughter’s lap. It was unbelievable!

A good hour later, Madison tried to remain calm as she crossed the parking lot to their rented car. A black, gold trimmed folder stuffed full of important documents clutched tightly to her chest with both arms.

It must be a dream, she would never want for anything ever again. She could attend college and not have to worry about how she would ever come up with the money to pay for it. Best of all, she would never have to live under her father’s roof again.

It was then that she noticed her father stumbling across the parking lot, barely managing to remain on his feet.            

“Dad?” Madison quickened her pace, placed an arm about her father’s waist to steady him before he toppled over. He thanked her by shoving her aside to lean his swaying frame against the driver’s side of the car.

“I don’t need your help, or anyone’s, your highness.” His gave his daughter a disgusted look, followed by a failed attempt at a bow before reaching deep in his pocket for his keys. 

Madison pushed aside his hateful words and reached out a shaking hand for the exposed keys.

“Why don’t you let me drive?” She almost had the keys from her father’s grasp when he backhanded her smartly across the cheek, the coveted keys he held in his fist jingled with the sudden, violent movement. 

An instant burn traveled up her face and into her eyes, causing them to well up with tears, not so much from the pain, but from who inflicted it. How could he have sunk this low?

“You don’t want to ride with me that’s fine, you can find your own way.” He yanked the door open abruptly and slumped into the driver’s seat of the car. She stood rubbing her cheek, staring at the man inside the car. He was fumbling with the keys as he tried to put them into the ignition. 

Every emotion from hate to pity, welled up within her and in the end, all she could think of was that he was her father. As much as she hated him he was still, and always would be, her family. She couldn’t let him go alone.

She fought back her tears and crossed to the passenger side of the car. Her head screamed at her to just let him be, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to listen to logic.  No matter what he’d become, and how she’d grown to despise him, he was the only family she had left. She pulled open the passenger door and climbed numbly into the car.

He fumbled with the keys a minute longer before finally managing to put the car in motion. He turned away from the city and soon they were driving along in silence down a deserted country lane.

Madison slipped off her black heels and stretched her aching feet. She rested her burning cheek against the cool window and closed her eyes, wishing suddenly to be anywhere but where she was. Her father pressed down on the gas and the rental car responded with an added jolt of speed. He was angry and determined to take his frustrations out on the road.

She focused in on her thoughts, trying to think of anything but the scenery speeding by outside her window. In two weeks she would be dancing, she would be happy doing what she loved. She’d started ballroom dancing classes a year before her mother abandoned them. All too soon, what was once an extra circular activity turned into her passion and a much-needed escape from the chaos of her world.

She’d found a job that would work around her dancing schedule and free her selfish father from the obligation of supporting his daughter.

The car fishtailed violently when he turned onto a dirt road, shocking Madison out her thoughts. It was growing dark and she wondered if her father knew where he was going, and better yet, if he cared.

She pulled her eyes from the fading sky to look down at the gold trimmed folder she held in her hands and found herself contemplating if it was worth it. Was this wealth, which was given to her, worth this?  She’d lost her mother because of her father’s greed and arrogance. Did she truly want to lose what was left of her family over money?

She was the last of the Cunningham line, she had no other family, nothing but what was in this car, recklessly speeding down some dusty country lane.

“You must think yourself a lucky girl,” he slurred, then took a corner faster than Madison would have liked.

“What?” she asked, clutching her bag to her chest, fearing she’d made a horrible mistake when she got into the car.

“Don’t play stupid. What did you do to get the old hag to leave everything to you? The granddaughter she hardly knew!” He sped around another corner, nearly running off the road. It was growing dark and the desolate winding road was becoming narrower by the second.

She could only look at him in disbelief. It was his fault that she never knew her grandparents. He was too stubborn to forgive the woman for some past wrong. Madison wanted to know his parents but he denied her the opportunity.

“I didn’t do anything!” Madison flinched when he swerved to miss a large rock in the road. “Slow down, do you want to kill us?” she screamed, but her father only huffed and pressed down further on the gas.

“You’re conniving and sadistic just like your mother.” Madison heard his harsh words, but she also heard the crack of emotion in his voice. He loved her mother, but his arrogance and drunken temper finally drove her away. And for some reason, he couldn’t see that he wasn’t the only one who lost someone they loved. She would have done anything to convince her mother to stay or to take her along. It was a pity her father never seemed to care about anything or anyone but himself.

“You don’t mean that,” she responded, his hateful words etching their way into her heart, her pale eyes burning with grief.

“She took me for everything I had, then disappeared leaving me to clean up the mess.” Madison watched the trees fly by and remembered it was her mother who tried to keep the family afloat while her husband sunk deeper and deeper into his addiction. Her mother tried until she couldn’t try anymore.

She looked again down at the folder on her lap, suddenly deciding that, she too, was tired of trying to please a man who would never give in return. She was done, she would go to school and do what she loved and wouldn’t look back. She had a bright future awaiting her, she only needed to reach out and take it.

“I don’t want it.” She placed the gold trimmed folder on her father’s lap and turned her attention back to clutching her bag.

Her father looked down at the folder lying neatly in his lap and then to his daughter. “You think this will fix everything, giving me what should have been mine in the first place?” She could feel his eye’s boring into the side of her head, but she kept her focus on the passing trees.

“No, but I will live my life knowing that I did the right thing,” she whispered, a single tear making its way down her cheek. It was done. She would say goodbye to the man who had once been her father and move on with her life. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be her own.

“You think you’re so perfect, don’t you?” His words were full of a contempt she never knew could exist between father and daughter. She slouched down in her seat, once again, wishing to be anywhere but confined to the car with her raging father.

Those words of hatred were the last thing she heard before the car spun out of control and struck a tree, sending her world into darkness.

Madison lay on her back, on the thick undergrowth of the forest and attempted to take inventory of her aching limbs. Her pounding head clouded her thoughts and she had to force herself to concentrate.

She moved one leg and then the other and then attempted the same task with her arms. The right obeyed but the left burned with even the slightest movement. She turned her pounding head to examine the damage and immediately wished she hadn’t. The sleeve of her jacket was shredded into nearly nothing, revealing a deep gash running up the length of her arm.

She groaned and did her best to shove the image aside. She’d never been good with blood, especially when it was her own. 

She needed to get to her feet and find her father, hopefully he was no worse off than she was and they would be able to call for help.

Madison pushed herself up with her good arm and sat for a moment, fighting to clear her head. The sun had faded from the sky, washing her surroundings in a dim, hazy glow.

She rose slowly to her knees and finally managed to get to her feet. She turned in the direction of the car and gasped. It was hardly recognizable; the bulk of the frame was wrapped around the trunk of a massive tree just off the side of the road. From what she could tell, her father was still inside the vehicle.

Her head protested again, causing her to return to her knees. She would have to go to her father later, right now she needed to find her cell phone and call for help before her damaged head refused to cooperate. Once her vision cleared she looked around the thick undergrowth for her bag. She knew it had been in her arms when they crashed so it must be around here somewhere.

Finally, she spotted her bag lying in the distance, resting at the base of the scariest tree she’d ever seen. It’s gnarled and twisted branches stretched out in all directions, like numerous monster arms reaching out, wishing to snatch the stars from the heavens. No leaves seemed to dare sprout on the limbs, leaving it bare and ghostly, looming over her in the darkness.

She pulled her eyes from the disturbing branches and carefully crawled to where her bag lay at the base of the tree. She turned and rested her weary body against the trunk of tree, placing the bag on her lap. 

Her poor head wanted nothing more than for her to lie down and give into sleep but she knew she must stay awake. If she gave in, there was a good chance she would never wake up.

She rested her head against the tree and closed her eyes for a moment, only a moment, breathing deeply to summon the strength she needed to continue. Her heart fluttered and a stiff breeze lifted her hair and then it was quiet.   

A quick search of her bag produced her phone, she quickly dialed for help with shaking fingers and waited, nothing. She dialed again, still nothing.

“Stupid piece of junk,” she mumbled as she threw the phone to the ground and pulled herself up. She would have to find her father’s phone. Hopefully it was still in working condition.

She looked up to judge the distance she would have to cross to the car and could only stare in disbelief. Her stunned fingers released the hold they had on her belongings, discarding them, carelessly to the ground.

It was gone: the car and the tree the vehicle had smashed into. Everything, even the gravel road was replaced by a narrow dirt lane that was barely wide enough for a single car. She stumbled forward through the darkness. It was impossible, how could it be here one moment then gone the next.

“Breathe Maddy, breathe,” she told herself.

She staggered to the center of the narrow lane and turned about in a circle as if doing so might produce the mangled car and the gravel road, she knew had been there only seconds ago. 

She stood frozen in the center of the lane, dazed and confused, as something warm began to run down her forehead and into her eyes. Madison wiped at her head and pulled her hand back to examine it. Blood covered her fingers and the palm of her hand. That was all she needed to give into the will of her body and collapsed right there in the dirt.

                                                Chapter Two

                        England, 1199

Liam put spur to his horse, leading his men down the darkening lane at a wild pace. His mother’s messenger arrived just as the sun began it’s descent on the horizon. He instantly organized a handful of his garrison and left his keep before the messenger his mother sent had time to finish his news. His father, Vallon of Norick, was dying.

He swallowed the ache in his throat and pushed his horse on. He’d been away from home far too long, and now he prayed that he wasn’t too late. 

Liam had known his father was ill, but he wanted more than anything to complete the castle and put everything back in order before he returned to his parent’s home.

All the attention he’d put on the upgrades to the keep and outer walls had wrought havoc upon his tenants and his surrounding land, everything was in disarray. He’d been so focused on the renovations being made that he hadn’t realized he was neglecting other matters that were just as important as honoring a promise to his father.

Ever since Liam was a child, he’d wanted nothing more than to have his father look on him with praise in his eyes and congratulate him for a job well done. When Liam took possession of Norick, he promised the man he would make it as grand as it had been when his great grandfather built it. His keep was now completed, it was as he promised it would be. But now that his father lay dying, it all seemed for naught. This work had kept him from his family and that was time that could never be replaced.

The sun had set, casting the dense forest into shadow. Ghostly shapes appeared in the closely clustered trees and haunting shadows swam across the thick undergrowth.

“Lord Norick, there in the distance.” Ayden’s eyes were as good as gold, even in the darkness. Liam was indeed grateful for the lad, he was a loyal squire and in no time at all, if he would but assert himself, he would make an honorable knight.

Liam squinted and soon saw what alerted the boy. Something, or someone, lay in the road just ahead. He lifted his arm, silently telling his men to slow their horses and take heed of their surroundings.

“Look to the trees,” Liam’s steady voice rang out through the night. Once the mound came closer into view he realized it was a body lying in the road. “Ayden, stay with me.” Liam drew rein a good distance from the motionless figure, he dismounted, and was followed instantly by his squire.

His heart raced as they approached the body, it could be an ambush. The roads weren’t safe to travel. He knew he was taking a risk traveling after dark, but his men were well trained and equally well armed, and it was a risk he was willing to take to reach his father in time.

As they approached, the body began to take shape. It appeared to be a woman. She was dressed in odd black clothing, her gown falling just below her knees. Her feet were bare, and straight as a stick flame red hair adorned her head, crowning the palest skin he’d ever seen. A deep red gash running across her forehead was the only offence that marred her otherwise prefect features. In the dirt, beside her wounded arm, a pool of blood had begun to gather on the ground.

Liam pulled his heavy cloak from his shoulders, tore a good length from the bottom of the garment and bound it tightly around her bleeding arm, securing the wound until it could be properly tended.

“Think you it was an ambush, my Lord?” Ayden kept his eyes on the trees as he spoke, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Aye.”

“Do you know her, my Lord?” Ayden inquired.

“Nay,” Liam continued to answer the lad’s questions while his mind began swarming with those of his own. Where were her kin? Surely she would not be left alone to fend for herself against whomever it was that attacked her.

“Do you wish to return to the keep?” Ayden was staring at the woman, a bewildered look fixed to his young face.

“Nay, there is a monastery a short distance up the road, surely they will take her in.” He wrapped his ruined cloak around the unconscious woman and lifted her into his arms.

“She is strangely dressed, my Lord,” Ayden observed out loud what Liam already knew, he then ran to keep up with his master’s long strides.

Liam ignored his squire and looked to his men who had returned from their search and were ready to be on their way.

“Anything?” He looked to Peter who sat atop his horse gazing down at the woman Liam held in his arms.

“Nay, my Lord. Not so much as a broken blade of grass.” Peter slung his battleaxe over his shoulder, as was his habit, and continued to stare at the lady, a bewildered look playing across his weather-hardened, bearded face.  Peter had been Liam’s captain and friend for as long as anyone cared to remember. He was a good ten years older than his master and had more life experience than anyone Liam knew, save his father.

Liam placed the woman into his squire’s arms and mounted his waiting horse then reached down to reclaim his burden.

“She smells powerfully strange, my Lord.” Ayden sniffed at the woman as he handed her up to his master’s waiting arms.

“Stop your chatter, and get upon your mount,” Liam chided, settling the woman on his lap. She did smell strange, not bad, but it was a scent he wasn’t accustomed to and had no name for. He took in the scent again and decided that it was, in fact, quite pleasant. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and waited for Ayden to be settled on his mount before he gave the signal to leave.

Stopping at the monastery would slow him greatly. His parent’s keep was a hard day’s ride from Norick and if what his mother’s messenger said was true, his father might not last the night.

He looked down at the woman in his arms and found himself scowling at her. It wasn’t that he was angry with her for slowing his progress, but because of the slight stirring she caused in his soul. It was as if he knew her from somewhere, but for the life of him, he couldn’t place the strange feeling. 

She was like no other woman he’d ever seen, the glow to her skin, the shine to her hair. Just looking down at her abused body made him want to find who had dared assault her and see that life abruptly extinguished.

Hours later Liam deposited the woman at the monastery, even though a nagging thought, deep inside his being, told him to take her onto Mowbray and see her looked after by his mother’s healer. The lack of precious time made the decision for him. Carrying an unconscious woman to his parents keep would only hinder him all the more. 

He mounted his horse and was about to leave the gates when a stout, elderly monk came huffing into the courtyard.

“Lord Norick, a word if you please,” the man gruffly shouted when he approached the mounted men.

“I have no time, I have told you all I know of the woman. Pleasant night.” He turned his horse, determined to put the woman behind him and make his way through the night. The monk reached out and boldly took hold of his horse’s bridle, stopping the animal from moving further.

“The woman, my Lord,” he stated in earnest.

“What of her?” Liam was growing impatient with the elderly monk and didn’t care if his annoyance sounded through his voice.

“We will not permit her to remain inside these walls.” The words were thrown with such haste from his mouth, as if speaking them quickly would make them easier to hear.

“I beg your pardon?” Liam couldn’t believe his ears. Was this not a monastery? Did not they welcome all God’s creatures, friend or foe?

“If you will not take her, my Lord, we will place her outside the gates. I vow it,” the blustering monk informed him hotly.

Liam briskly dismounted, causing the monk to take a quick step back for fear that he would be to blame for the news he’d just delivered. Liam stormed past him, through the gates and into the monastery, making his way to the small suffocating room where he’d placed the woman only moments ago. The elderly monk ran after him, huffing and puffing, doing his best to keep up with the fuming man.

Liam stalked into the room and looked down on the pallet where she slept unmoving, covered only by his thick, rendered cloak. Her hurts had still not been tended to. He took in the pitiful sight of her, feeling a fire ignited deep within his soul as his mellow temperament flared into rage.

“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed, pulling his eyes to the two monks standing next to the fire, huddled together as if doing so would protect them from the raging man before them. “I bring a wounded woman to you seeking compassion and care and here she lies, bleeding to death right before your very eyes!”

When the monks remained silent, he looked around the room for something with which to bind the woman’s hurts. Finding what he was seeking on a nearby table he began to do the job himself, cleaning her arm and rewrapping it tightly with a strip of clean cloth. Every now and then he took the liberty to glare in the direction of cowering monks, still desiring answers to his questions.

“She is marked, my Lord. She is not welcome here.” One of the monks finally ventured to say, his fear adding a slight tremor to his voice.

“What drivel is this?” Liam tied off the bandage on her arm and moved to the gaping gash on her head.

“She is marked, my Lord,” the second monk informed him. He pointed to the woman’s feet, causing Liam to raise an eyebrow in question. “See for yourself what the devil has left upon her.”

Liam continued to clean the wound and wrap it. Only when he’d finished the task did he make his way to the foot of the pallet to inspect what had caused such alarm among the inhabitance of the monastery.

“Her left ankle, my Lord.” Liam followed the direction and suddenly resisted the urge to curse. It was as they said. She was marked. Never had he seen anything like it, two delicate wings were painted on the flesh of her ankle. A mark indeed, but not that of the devil, if anything, it was just the opposite.

Liam dipped a bit of cloth into the washbasin and tried to remove the paint with water. But whatever it was, it was stuck fast to her delicate skin, refusing to be washed away.

“As we said, my Lord, she is marked. A demon from the underworld sent to torment man,” the monk that fetched him murmured as he and his companion crossed themselves vigorously.

“You are daft. She is naught but a woman and you are a fool to think otherwise.”  Liam took a strip of cloth and wrapped it securely around the woman’s ankle, concealing what looked to him like angel wings from any other eyes that might think it to be the mark of the devil. He then looked about the small stuffy room for the woman’s clothing.

“What did you with her gown?” He glared at the two monks who were now cowering so close to the blazing fire they might as well become a part of it for all the good they were to him.

“We burned them, my Lord.”

“What?” He heard the words as clear as day, but thought, perhaps he heard wrong. “Why?”

“They were not of this world, they had to be destroyed.” He was informed with conviction.

Liam clasped his hands to his head and rolled his eyes heavenward. He’d never been one to believe in witches, demons, impish creatures, fairies or any of the beasties that the simple-minded swore inhabited the forests. He believed in good and evil, heaven and hell. But as far as creatures who roamed the earth, looking to possess an unsuspecting soul, no.

He sucked in a steady breath and pointed at the nearest of the two monks. “You will find something that I might use to cover the lady, and you.” He then pointed to the monk who’d talked of burning her gown. “You will kindly shut your mouth before I am forced to do the task for you.” The monk in question snapped his gaping mouth shut with a click and shifted his eyes to the floor.

Liam was hastily given an old, worn monk’s habit and couldn’t help but scowl at its presenter. “Is this truly the best you can do?” Liam shook the garment at the man, only to receive an unapologetic shrug in return. 

He sat himself down on the pallet and did his best to dress the woman while maintaining her dignity. He was far from what one might call a passable ladies maid. With the task completed, he retrieved his discarded cloak and wrapped it securely about her slender frame and lifted her carefully into his arms.

“I thank you for your help,” he muttered over his shoulder as he carried her from the room. “I will do my best and remember to thank the Lord for you when I’ve the time.”  He stomped from the room making his way quickly to the gate and his waiting men.    

Liam and his guard reached Mowbray just before dusk the following day. As he feared, the woman slowed them greatly, but he could hardly blame her for the injuries that put her in this present state, for they were hardly of her doing.

He passed the woman off to Ayden and shook the feeling back into his weary arms before dismounting. “Take her to master Camdon, see that she is well looked after and that her wounds are tended to.”

“Aye.” Ayden turned to leave only to be stopped again with further instruction from his master.

“Ayden, the binding on her left ankle is not to be removed. Understood?” he instructed. He was not sure why he was hiding the harmless mark but had the overwhelming feeling it was a wise thing to do, considering the reaction she received from the monks.

“Aye, my Lord.” Ayden looked at him with questioning eyes but hurried off to do his master’s bidding.

Liam turned in the direction of the keep to see his mother rushing down the stairs to greet him. He met her half way and encircled the petite, silver haired woman in his arms, resting his chin atop her head, and did his best not to weep.

Too long, it had been far too long.

“Liam, my boy. Ten years has changed you,” her voice was muffled against his chest as she spoke, then much to his surprise she pulled back and slapped him smartly across the face, the force of her grief stinging his cheek. “It takes your father dying to bring you home to me?” Fire sparked in her deep green eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, her anger was smoothed over by sorrow. She embraced her son again, causing Liam to wish it were happier circumstances that brought him home.

“Forgive me mother, am I in time?” He turned his eyes from his mother and looked up to the castle.

“Aye, I believe he waits for his son.” Her hand slid into his and together they climbed the stairs in hallowed silence.

Liam swallowed the lump that lodged itself in his throat as he led his mother across the fresh rushes of the great room to a small circular staircase that would take them to his parent’s chamber. He followed her up the compact space and into a narrow corridor before coming to a stop in front of a closed door.

Her silence ate at him and he wondered how it was that she could remain so strong, when every fiber of his being was ready to crack. She only stood next to him and waited for him to enter the room when he was ready.

Liam took a deep breath, slowly pushed open the thick wooden structure and peered into the gloom of his parent’s chamber. It was dark and the air was thick. The shutters had been closed against the bright sunlight and a fire blazed in the hearth. He forced his feet to carry him across the room to where his father lay comfortably on his massive curtained bed.

Liam stood hesitantly at the foot of the bed, momentarily feeling as if he were a child again, small, insecure and desperately seeking his father’s praise and affection. Not that it had been lacking, or that he was a disappointment to the man. It was only that Liam was witness to his sorrows and heartache and made a vow to himself to never be the one to cause his father, or mother, such consuming grief.

“Father?” Liam hardly recognized his own voice as he spoke. He solemnly looked down at the frail man who’d once been larger than life.

“My son, you are late.” A slight smile graced his father’s lips, helping his son to relax ever so slightly.

“Never late father, I always arrive just in time,” Liam answered.

“Arrogance is the devil’s work, my boy. Now sit yourself down and talk a bit with your father.” His rebuke was blunt and fleeting, remaining in Liam’s heart as he obeyed his father’s request.

He did as he was told, perching his tall, lean frame on the edge of the bed, doing his best not to disturb his father’s comfort.

“Is it finished, boy?” Vallon questioned.

“Father?”

“This task that has kept you from your family these past years,” his father stated. His deep brown eyes still held their fire, although Liam could see it was dimming.

“Aye it is finished, it is grand to behold.” Liam tried to feel the deep pride he held for his keep, but somehow, at this moment, it eluded him.

“And does it bring you joy?” Vallon asked seriously. Liam gazed down at him and tried to look as if it truly did, but all he could do was look into this man’s eyes and remember how his mother had always told him how much he looked like his father. How much he was like him. Perhaps that was why he so sought for his approval, his heart couldn’t take it if he was found wanting in the eyes of one he loved.

His father never fully recovered from the betrayal caused by Liam’s older half brother, Malford. No one had seen the evil in him until it was too late and castle Norick was in ruin. After the monstrous attack, Vallon took his wife from the walls of Norick and placed the keep in Liam’s hands.

They all thought removing Vallon from the scene of the crime would mend him but the damage was done. Vallon’s heart was broken, a piece of his soul, that could never be replaced, had been violently removed. It was now a hidden, mortal wound that slowly festered until the unseen damage consumed its host.

“Your silence tells the truth, lad.” The words he spoke were soft and breathless, speaking of a life that was weary and ready to seek its rest. Liam turned those words over and over in his mind, knowing he had every reason to be happy. But why couldn’t he be? 

He let his eyes trail along the bright coverlet silently naming his blessings. He was highly favored, his larders were full as was his coffers. His tenants respected him, his men were loyal too, and above all, his keep was finished. His life was truly blessed, but he didn’t find joy in this life that was his.

“I worry about you, my boy. Land you have, men who love you and are loyal to you, and a wealth you have gained to keep you living in comfort well beyond your days. But it is all for naught if you squander it away alone and unhappy,” he paused, his dark eyes fixed on his sons down trodden face.

“Father?” Liam waited as his father struggled for the breath to continue.

“My son, this woman who troubles you, keep her safe,” Vallon whispered briskly. Liam’s eyes nearly fell from his head when his father spoke. How could he know of the woman? His mother knew not of the woman.

His father extended his hand beckoning his lady wife to come to him. She pushed away from the doorframe and crossed the floor to kneel down beside the bed.

“Lady…I am a better man because of you,” Vallon breathed, searching her face as though to find a renewed will to live if only to save her from her grief.

“And I you, my Lord.” She kissed her husband tenderly and held his hand tightly as his eyes began to dim. Their life had been full. They lived through joy and sorrow. She’d been blessed with the love of her husband, she would never have asked for anything more.

Liam watched the exchange between his parents and knew then what it was his father was trying to tell him. He would never know true happiness until he allowed himself to give happiness in return. His parents were everything to one another and as Liam watched their tear filled exchange he found his heart suddenly longing for that kind of happiness.

His father’s priest appeared as if by magic and began his melodious chanting, ensuring that Lord Mowbray’s soul made a safe journey to heaven.

Liam placed a hand on his mother’s back as she bent her head and wept for the man she’d lost, for the joy that was no more and for the comforting knowledge that he was free from his pain.

He allowed his own tears to fall, knowing he would forever regret that he’d neglected his kin and that it was only after his father was on his deathbed that he managed to return to them after ten years of separation.               

                                                            *  *  *  *  *

Victoria followed her son from the small chapel that rested just outside the keep and together they entered the great hall. She eyed her beloved son closely seeing his silent concern and knew the cause, for she’d done a bit of digging since her son returned to her. What she found had left her reeling with questions she’d not had the time to ask.

“Master Camdon tells me you brought a wounded woman with you from Norick.” Victoria eyed her son, not liking to be left in the dark about things such as this. Her son should have confided in her and saved her from being forced to snoop about his affairs.

“Not from Norick, mother. She was a good distance from my keep when we found her. She and whomever was with her were attacked in the forest. We found her alone, lying in the middle of the road, bleeding and unconscious.” Liam looked down at his mother, knowing instantly that she wanted the rest of the tale. “I took her to the monastery, but the monks refused to care for her.”

Victoria saw the anger flash in her son’s eyes, knowing all to well that it took a great deal to make his mellow temper flare.

“Why would they not take her in?” she asked, her own curiosity with this woman beginning to rise along with his anger.

Liam shifted his feet, silently considering if it was wise for him to tell his mother what he knew of the woman, and then he simply shrugged his shoulders. “I could not leave her to die so I brought her here, knowing that master Camdon would offer his assistance. She still sleeps and I am beginning to worry.”

“She took quite a blow to the head, my son. Have no fear, it will take time.” She patted his hand when he helped her sit in a large chair near the fire and then stood back to gaze at her.

“I take it, you have already paid a visit to master Camdon’s to see the lady.” He leaned against the hearth smiling brightly, knowing full well that his mother was always the first to see to those in need.

Victoria only smiled and sat back in the chair to take her ease, she had every confidence that the woman would awake. They would only have to bide their time and wait.

“Any word of your brother?” she asked after a moment of hushed silence.

“Nay.” Liam felt the fine hair on his nape prickle with the mention of his insufferable brother and wished to leave the vile man in the past.

“News travels fast, Liam. It will reach him and then it will only be a matter of time until he comes seeking that which he believes to be his,” she softly reminded, her own fear of the man rising within her.

“Aye.” Was all Liam could manage to say to her words of warning and struggled to force all thoughts of the loathsome man from his mind.  

                                                *  *  *  *  *