With Dreams Only of You Read online

  The last words upon his lips were the first that came to mind as he gazed at the golden sky above, more brilliant than the sun, but still feeling the longing for the woman he lived and breathed for. He would see her again, soon, he was sure. Not even death could separate them. There would come a time when their love would unite them for all eternity and he wait impatiently for that moment.

  With dreams only of you….

  Part Two: With Dreams

  By

  Kathryn Le Veque

  Chapter One

  The Discovery

  1272 A.D.

  Hadrian’s Wall, near Milecastle Nine

  Northumberland, England

  It was winter on the border and that’s exactly where he didn’t want to be – chasing down reivers, Scots raiders from the north, raiders that had been harassing some of the villages along the River Tyne for the past several weeks. It had been a very bleak winter and the Scots, starving in their stone and sod homes that were buried like boulders into the frozen moors, had forged south and east, stealing what they needed in order to feed their hungry families. It wasn’t as if the English had any more than they did, so it was rather like the hungry stealing from the hungry.

  But the Scots had killed this time around, murdering several villagers in the small border town of Corbridge. The sky was the color of pewter, threatening snow, as a big English knight charged across a shallow sandbar in the river, through the icy water, and onto the other side where the Scots were trying desperately to escape on their small, shaggy horses. The beasts were so hairy that they looked like haystacks with legs, shuffling across the frozen moors with the English knights on their muscular rounceys or Spanish Jennet horses trying to close the gap.

  Corchester Castle, a small pele tower and enclosure, was attached to the village that had been sacked and the garrison commander had sent to Prudhoe Castle for reinforcements when he realized that the force of hundreds of Scots was bigger than the fifty or so men at his garrison. Lord d’Umfraville had proceeded to send five knights and more than a hundred soldiers, all of them mounted, trying to catch up with the Scots who had raided and murdered. It was early morning and the air was so cold that the mail was freezing to the skin and helms had to be lined with caps of linen in order to keep them from bonding to the skin when the knights started to sweat.

  Great puffs of hot breath hung in the air, horses snorting, as they charged across the frozen landscape, but the Scots had a substantial head start on the English and disappeared into a distant line of trees, burrowing deep into the icy bramble. The knights, seeing that their quarry was sheltered for the moment, pulled their horses up, unwilling to follow.

  “I’ll not go in there,” one of the knights spoke. “They will be waiting to ambush us.”

  The others agreed, including the garrison commander leading the expedition. Sir Eryx de Reyne was a young knight, with dusky blue eyes and dark hair, muscular and powerful and handsome. He was tall and big, and in spite of his youth he was exceptionally cunning and intelligent, commanding older knights with ease. His young age had nothing to do with his ability to effectively direct men.

  Coming from a long line of mighty knights, he was the result of generations of fine breeding. Moreover, he was half-Scots and half-English, and spoke Gaelic because it had been his mother’s native tongue, so he was able to navigate the Scots borders with ease. He was able to think like them, too, which is why he agreed with the other knight’s assertion of an ambush. He smelled one, too.

  “Back we go,” he commanded the group. “We will have to be faster next time.”

  The group of knights and soldiers reined their horses about, charging off towards the south. The thunder of their heavy war steeds shook the ground as they galloped across the dead and frozen terrain, English hooves that promised to return another time and, when they did, they would meet with success. Scots blood would be spilled. The Scottish earth beneath those well-tended mounts trembled with the anticipation of yet another battle in a landscape that had seen too many of them. More blood and more sorrow was not something the heart of the north could accept.

  More death.

  The frozen river loomed ahead and the group of knights headed for it, discouraged with the fact that they’d had to return empty-handed. As they began to cross the river, picking through the sandbar and dodging chunks of ice, they could see another group of knights and mounted soldiers approaching from the east. Eryx strained to catch a glimpse of the incoming group, eventually able to see the colors of Questing Castle on their tunics. The Wolfe’s Lair, he thought. Reinforcements from Questing Castle, seat of the mightiest warlord along the border, William de Wolfe, had arrived.

  Back on the English side of the river, Eryx and his men headed for the party from Questing. Eryx held up a big, gloved hand as the two groups came together.

  “Greetings!” Eryx called loudly, recognizing several of Questing’s knights. There were seven altogether but he only focused on one, the leader. “You came too late, de Wolfe. The Scots are already back across the border. They managed to make it into a grove of trees before we could catch up to them so I let them go. Walking into a dark copse of trees in search of Scots would be inviting a club on my head. They hide too damn well.”

  Sir Scott de Wolfe, son of William de Wolfe, flipped up his visor, his nose red from the cold and a smile on his lips. “Indeed they do,” he said. “I do not blame you. Sorry we were late. The road is nearly impassable and we had to take a detour through some frozen fields. What is the status of the town?”

  Eryx looked off to the east where the small village was. “Corbridge was badly hit,” he said. “They lost several villagers in the raid and, we are told, the Scots made off with some young women and took them over to the old Roman castle. I was just going to head over there to see if there is truth to the rumor.”

  “You have not gone yet?”

  Eryx shook his head. “We tried to catch the Scots as they ran,” he said. “If you want to go back to the village and see what more you can discover, I will go to the ruins.”

  De Wolfe nodded. “I will indeed,” he said. Then, he waved an arm at one of his knights. “Take le Somes and four men-at-arms with you to the Roman castle. I will take the rest of the men with me and fan out over the village to see what the damage is.”

  Eryx wasn’t particularly thrilled that he’d been assigned Sir Robbin le Somes but de Wolfe didn’t give him a chance to tactfully ask for another. The man was already on the move, ordering his knights as well as the Prudhoe knights with him as he turned his warhorse about and headed for the village. Le Somes, and four of de Wolfe’s soldiers, swiftly moved to Eryx’s side.

  “Shall we go?” he asked.

  He’d spoken in that eager, breathless voice that Eryx had come to hate. Lies had been spoken in a tone such as that. He cast a long glance at Robbin before closing his visor against the extreme cold and reining his steed to the west. He couldn’t even respond to Robbin’s question. He simply spurred his horse onward across the icy ground. Robbin and the soldiers were quick to catch up to him.

  Robbin le Somes. Eryx was coming to loathe the sound of the very name. The man was flashy, loud, cunning, and bold. He had also been Eryx’s best friend, once. The trouble was, Robbin still thought he was. But over the past several weeks, Eryx had come to see more about Robbin that he disliked than he liked, so these days, he didn’t have much use for the man. Robbin had proven himself to have more negative qualities than good, especially since a certain young woman had taken up residence at Pelinom Castle, a few miles to the south.

  It was then that Eryx started seeing Robbin’s dark side.

  Or perhaps it wasn’t a dark side as much as it was an eager side. Lady Frederica de Titouan had come all the way from her home in Wales to spend time with her relatives, an exchange of sorts, so the young woman could live life along the English-Scottish border and come to know different people and different customs. It was all part of her education, orchestrated
by her parents, but at the big feast those weeks ago meant to welcome her to Northumberland, Eryx had been instantly smitten by the blue-eyed, black-haired lady. Fortunately, she had been smitten with him as well, but Robbin, too, had been immediately drawn to her.

  And that’s where the trouble began.

  Eryx seriously wondered where it would end.

  Chapter Two

  The English were riding faster than they should have been over the frozen tundra. The horses were running so fast that when they came to a small hill with a frozen stream at the bottom, the horses slid down the slippery, icy slope, skidded across the creek, and plowed up the other side.

  The horses were durable and strong, and the men astride them were driving the beasts like mad, eager to make it to the old Roman castle ruins where the reivers had allegedly taken some of the town’s women. Eryx remembered clearly an older woman who had cried to him, telling him that her twelve-year-old daughter had been one of the women taken.

  It was a harrowing thought. Any woman at the hands of raiders hardly stood a chance. As the English plowed across the winter-dead field, they could see the Roman ruins in the distance, mostly rubble now although some of the structure still stood. There was a two-storied gatehouse and a longer, larger single-storied structure that the locals called the Great Hall. The walls were mostly standing, although the top several feet of the wall had been taken away and used to build some of the homes for the villagers of Corbridge, but the walls were tall enough that they still provided some protection for the derelict ruins. Phantoms, Eryx thought as the old structures loomed closer. Now the walls only protect phantoms of Romans long bereft. He could feel their eyes upon him, even at a distance.

  They must have created some noise in their approach because men wearing heavy woolen tartans astride those fat, shaggy horses began bolting from the enclosure, heading off to the northwest. It looked as if they had one woman with them, possibly more, and Eryx pointed to them, indicating for Robbin and the men to follow. Robbin understood and motioned to a couple of the soldiers and, at that point, split off from the group. As Eryx and two remaining men-at-arms continued on to the Roman castle, Robbin and his men followed the Scots as they escaped north.

  Eryx and the soldiers entered the Roman enclosure at a full gallop, pulling up as they reached the middle of the muddy, half-frozen area that comprised what must have been the courtyard or bailey of the Roman castle. Chunks of freezing earth went flying as the excitable horses were pulled to a stop. Eryx bailed off his steed, nearly stumbling, but he caught himself and unsheathed his broadsword in a decisively powerful move. He wasn’t afraid of any living man and he held the sword defensively as he walked right into the remains of the Great Hall. If there were Scots still within this place, then they were going to pay dearly for their transgressions.

  The structure had no roof, open to the sky. He immediately saw a figure on the ground at the far end, but a quick perusal of the four walls showed no other living creatures. The men-at-arms were right behind him, but he ordered them to search the old gatehouse for more victims and they obeyed, running off across the cold earth. Sheathing his broadsword, Eryx raced the length of the Great Hall and took a knee beside the fallen figure.

  It was a young girl, perhaps twelve years of age, with long, red hair that was dirty and matted. She was crumpled up on her left side, eyes closed, and her face and arms were bruised. Deeply concerned, Eryx yanked off a glove and put his fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. It was there, weak but steady, and at the feel of his touch, the young girl stirred.

  “Nay!” she cried pitifully. “Leave me be! Leave me be!”

  She flailed as if trying to escape him, kicking at the wall next to her in the process and dislodging some of the brittle, old stone. Eryx grasped at the girl to keep her from crawling away, but she rolled and twisted so he let her go, not wanting to hurt her.

  “You are safe, lass,” he assured her as kindly, yet firmly, as he could. “Look at me. I am English. I have come to help.”

  By this time, the girl had scrambled into the corner, her arms on the walls behind her as if holding on to the cold stones for her very life. It was clear she was terrified beyond reason, her lip bloodied and her hair yanked so harshly on the right side of her head that her scalp was bleeding. She gazed back at Eryx with panic but, as she noted the tunic and armor, she began to realize he was not one of her attackers. With that understanding, her face crumpled and she began to weep profusely. It was the only reaction she could give him.

  “What is your name, lass?” Eryx asked gently.

  The girl sniffled and wept, wiping her running nose with dirty hands and leaving a muddy smudge on her cheek. “El-Elspeth,” she stammered.

  Eryx held out a hand to her. He thought it would be easier on the girl to allow her to come to him rather than for him go to her. He had a feeling she wouldn’t take a man imposing himself upon her too kindly at the moment.

  “Come with me, Elspeth,” he said, holding out a gloved hand. “Come with me and I will take you home.”

  Home! Elspeth sobbed loudly, the lure of the home too great to bear. She struggled to stand and Eryx could see that her clothes were torn and bloodied. Her legs were bruised and a shoe was missing. She was beaten and battered, and his heart went out to her. Knights weren’t supposed to have hearts, only polite sympathies, as anything else could be used against them. The world was cold that way. But he did, indeed, feel a great deal of pity for the girl as she stood there and trembled, so he yanked off his tunic. As she staggered in his direction, he wrapped his heavy woolen tunic around her, a barrier against the freezing temperature.

  “Eryx!”

  The cry came from Robbin, standing in the ruinous doorway. Eryx turned towards the man at the sound of his name and Robbin rushed towards him. Eryx had the young girl bundled up tightly in his tunic to keep her warm but when the child saw Robbin running towards her, she panicked and pulled away from Eryx. Before he could grab her to steady her, she fell back against the wall and slumped, weeping hysterically. More of the old stone and mortar gave way behind her, as if the very walls themselves were threatening to collapse with her. Eryx reached out to the girl again, gently but firmly, and grasped her arms.

  “Do not be frightened,” he assured her in his deep, gentle voice. “He will not hurt you, I swear it. He is here to help.”

  Robbin, seeing that his swift motions had startled the battered girl, immediately slowed his pace and held up his hands as if to show he meant no harm. “Easy, lady, easy,” he said. “I will not harm you.”

  The girl, with tears and mucus running down her face, looked at Robbin hesitantly. She was only marginally more comfortable with Eryx but even he frightened her terribly. Eryx, trying to get a grip on the girl so she wouldn’t pull away again, spoke to Robbin.

  “Why are you back so soon?” he asked. “What has happened?”

  Robbin was looking at the young girl. If she looked like this, he could only imagine what the other captive women must look like. It turned his stomach a bit to think on it because, much like Eryx, he hadn’t hardened his heart enough yet against some of the brutalities he was witness to.

  “We lost them when they crossed the river and disappeared into the forest on the other side,” he said. “I did not want to chance entering and being set upon. The Scots are in their element in the trees.”

  Eryx nodded. “That is what that other group did to us before you came with de Wolfe,” he said. “They vanished into the trees. I am sure they were hoping we would follow. Did you see if they had any other women with them? I thought I saw one.”

  Robbin shook his head. “I did not see anyone else.”

  It was an ominous statement, meaning that if the Scots had any more women with them, there was little chance of saving them. Frustrated, Eryx tried to focus on the one woman they could save and not think about the ones he couldn’t. He pulled the young girl along with him, passing her towards Robbin.

  “This is S
ir Robbin,” Eryx said calmly. “He will take you home. Robbin, will you please take Mistress Elspeth in hand?”

  Robbin reached out to take the girl. “I will,” he replied. “I will ensure that she is returned home.”

  The girl was very reluctant to go with him but Eryx was firm with her, making sure Robbin had a good grip on her before he let go. He eyed Robbin as the knight very carefully took hold of the girl.

  “I will send word to Prudhoe to send the surgeon to the village,” he said. “This girl needs someone to look after her.”

  Robbin nodded, very cautiously leading the girl across the frozen soil of the old Great Hall. Or maybe it wasn’t a hall at all. It had high slits for windows and no hearth, and it only had one entrance. Maybe it was a prison, or a dungeon, or a place of human sacrifices. With the Romans, one could not be certain about anything they did. Stories about their behavior abound in the north, conquerors from long ago who had tried to tame the Celts. They were no longer here, but the Celts were. Robbin looked around the old, stone walls, imagining he felt the same phantoms that Eryx had.

  “I’d forgotten about this place,” he muttered. “There are ghosts here, you know.”

  Eryx was standing a few feet away, watching as Robbin was surprisingly gentle with the weeping, young girl. She was shuffling stiffly, he suspected, because she had been so brutalized, and Robbin was showing unexpected compassion with her. That wasn’t like him.

  “I know,” Eryx replied, glancing warily at the gray rocks that comprised the walls. “They are watching us.”

  Robbin looked over his shoulder at him. “A wicked place, this is,” he stated. “Something very bad happened here long ago.”

  “How would you know that?”