resisted
McPhearson’s tyranny, only to be handed into another man’s grasp.
And after your demonstration yesterday, she has naught but to
believe you’re like him.”
“There is more to this than just what she
sees. When I look in her eyes there is not only fear, but a deep
seated hate.”
“It has only been a day. It will take more
time than that to convince the maid that you are an honorable man.”
Randolf gave him a wicked smile. “Well, for the most part an
honorable man.”
“Your humor fails me,” Dominick said, ready
to tip over Randolf’s chair. “I saw it in her eyes before she ran
away. There is something more, something I cannot put a name
to.”
“Perhaps her feelings remain from the siege.
When we rode into Godwin it reminded me of the refugee camps we saw
in the Crusades. The people were near starvation. Maybe in her mind
soldiers are soldiers, and it’s difficult to define the difference.
We have taken her castle,” Randolf said.
Dominick took a long draw on his ale. Randolf
may be right. In Eleanor’s eyes he was just another invader.
“Can you help Eleanor’s mother’s spirit? Why
do you think she’s here?”
Dominick knew Randolf had deliberately
changed the subject. “I believe her bond to her daughter is so
great that she can’t let go.”
Randolf sat back in his chair, clearly
digesting all of Dominick’s problems. “Let’s pray this apparition
has not torn the fabric of your resistance to all other
spirits.”
“I have seen nothing since. Hopefully I will
see nothing more.”
A crooked smile crossed Randolf’s face and he
leaned forward. “I hope you’re right. I couldn’t have my brother
walking around like a madman talking to the dead.”
Dominick shifted in his seat and smiled back.
“Believe me, I don’t wish to talk to them again. I saw enough
spirits in Istanbul, dead men who couldn’t find their way out of
that prison. I had no help for them either. They’re still in one of
the worst levels of hell. I don’t want to see their agony any more.
That’s why I cut them off.” Dominick took another draw of the
bitter ale. “Isolde is strong enough to get through my defenses,
and wants me to protect Eleanor. She led me to the meadow
yesterday.”
“Are you going to tell Eleanor? I don’t think
it would endear you to your bride.”
Dominick shook his head. “Right now I don’t
think anything would endear me to my wife.”
“In time, Dominick. In
time.”
E leanor sat quietly
in her chamber near the hearth, absently pulling her wedding ring
back and forth on its chain. The broadsword was still in place on
the bed. Dominick must mean to keep his word, even if only for one
more night. The man’s honor puzzled her. His rights as her husband
allowed him to take her on their wedding night or any time for that matter, yet he hadn’t. How could a legendary warrior be
trusted with something as precious as nobility?
So few men had honor. Certainly her father
hadn’t. His so-called friends never displayed such a thing, yet
this warrior, this King’s general did. Over and over these thoughts
turned in her head.
The hypnotic flames took her back to that
morning when Henry had fallen through the roof. He was no small man
and, had he lost his hold on the beam, could easily have pulled
Dominick to his death. Yet Dominick had risked his life to save
Henry’s. His strength was almost unearthly.
She wondered if the stories were true then
chided her for letting her mind drift to such a ridiculous thought.
His compassion conflicted with any alliance with the devil, or was
it just a ruse?
Was it a way to lead her in, only to
disillusion her once she’d entered her husband’s emotional lair?
Could this have been what it was like for her mother? Surely she
must have found something good in her father to have fallen in love
with him. That must be how it happened. Isolde had been lured into
thinking Eleanor’s father was a man of honor, when in fact
McPhearson’s tyranny, only to be handed into another man’s grasp.
And after your demonstration yesterday, she has naught but to
believe you’re like him.”
“There is more to this than just what she
sees. When I look in her eyes there is not only fear, but a deep
seated hate.”
“It has only been a day. It will take more
time than that to convince the maid that you are an honorable man.”
Randolf gave him a wicked smile. “Well, for the most part an
honorable man.”
“Your humor fails me,” Dominick said, ready
to tip over Randolf’s chair. “I saw it in her eyes before she ran
away. There is something more, something I cannot put a name
to.”
“Perhaps her feelings remain from the siege.
When we rode into Godwin it reminded me of the refugee camps we saw
in the Crusades. The people were near starvation. Maybe in her mind
soldiers are soldiers, and it’s difficult to define the difference.
We have taken her castle,” Randolf said.
Dominick took a long draw on his ale. Randolf
may be right. In Eleanor’s eyes he was just another invader.
“Can you help Eleanor’s mother’s spirit? Why
do you think she’s here?”
Dominick knew Randolf had deliberately
changed the subject. “I believe her bond to her daughter is so
great that she can’t let go.”
Randolf sat back in his chair, clearly
digesting all of Dominick’s problems. “Let’s pray this apparition
has not torn the fabric of your resistance to all other
spirits.”
“I have seen nothing since. Hopefully I will
see nothing more.”
A crooked smile crossed Randolf’s face and he
leaned forward. “I hope you’re right. I couldn’t have my brother
walking around like a madman talking to the dead.”
Dominick shifted in his seat and smiled back.
“Believe me, I don’t wish to talk to them again. I saw enough
spirits in Istanbul, dead men who couldn’t find their way out of
that prison. I had no help for them either. They’re still in one of
the worst levels of hell. I don’t want to see their agony any more.
That’s why I cut them off.” Dominick took another draw of the
bitter ale. “Isolde is strong enough to get through my defenses,
and wants me to protect Eleanor. She led me to the meadow
yesterday.”
“Are you going to tell Eleanor? I don’t think
it would endear you to your bride.”
Dominick shook his head. “Right now I don’t
think anything would endear me to my wife.”
“In time, Dominick. In
time.”
E leanor sat quietly
in her chamber near the hearth, absently pulling her wedding ring
back and forth on its chain. The broadsword was still in place on
the bed. Dominick must mean to keep his word, even if only for one
more night. The man’s honor puzzled her. His rights as her husband
allowed him to take her on their wedding night or any time for that matter, yet he hadn’t. How could a legendary warrior be
trusted with something as precious as nobility?
So few men had honor. Certainly her father
hadn’t. His so-called friends never displayed such a thing, yet
this warrior, this King’s general did. Over and over these thoughts
turned in her head.
The hypnotic flames took her back to that
morning when Henry had fallen through the roof. He was no small man
and, had he lost his hold on the beam, could easily have pulled
Dominick to his death. Yet Dominick had risked his life to save
Henry’s. His strength was almost unearthly.
She wondered if the stories were true then
chided her for letting her mind drift to such a ridiculous thought.
His compassion conflicted with any alliance with the devil, or was
it just a ruse?
Was it a way to lead her in, only to
disillusion her once she’d entered her husband’s emotional lair?
Could this have been what it was like for her mother? Surely she
must have found something good in her father to have fallen in love
with him. That must be how it happened. Isolde had been lured into
thinking Eleanor’s father was a man of honor, when in fact
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