An Everlasting Amour, page 13
And if that happened…
She clenched her fists. Needless to say, the results would be disastrous.
Elloriam stumbled out of the woods and stopped as her focus adjusted on the scene before her. A small, thatched hut stood a short distance away, and just like the image had shown her, a young man was working with a pitchfork. His dark hair glistened in the sun, while his shirt was stained with sweat. She didn’t move forward for a moment, but just watched him as his leg and back muscles flexed with his movements.
For someone who was so focused on ensuring the demise of The Silence, she had never had much time to think about a life that might include something as simple as a family. It was almost as foreign to her as true peace.
She stiffened her shoulders. She had been born as a warrior and that was how it would remain. This boy was merely a means to an end and nothing more.
Elloriam strode forward with purpose, but only after her shadow fell across the hay did he turn to face her. Instantly, he held the fork out like a weapon.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
She hesitated. He was much older than she’d originally thought, at least in his mid-twenties like her, and rather attractive, especially the silver eyes that lit on her with menace. It was that remembrance of why she was here that at last broke the spell.
“My name is Elloriam. I’ve traveled a long distance to reach you.”
“Me?” He laughed. “I highly doubt that.”
“You’re a farrier, are you not?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m an apprentice to my father, but how do you know that? Have you been spying on me?”
“For longer than you might know,” she admitted. “I’m only here now because we need you.”
“Who’s we?” he asked. “The Celts? Is that who sent you?” He adopted a defensive stance. “I warn you, I swore my fealty to England, now and forever!”
Elloriam resisted rolling her eyes. Instead of replying, she rolled forward and jumped to her feet, holding a knife around his neck before he even had time to react. He instantly dropped his pitchfork, likely believing that his life was over. “If I was your enemy,” she snapped near his ear. “I could have slit your throat just now. But I’m not.”
With that, she returned the knife to the sheath at her side and moved around to face him. His face was pale, but his eyes were more keenly interested in what she had to say now. “My name is Elloriam, and you may not credit my existence now, but I am from the future. I was sent here to bring you back to my time and vanquish a strong evil presence that threatens our world.”
“But…” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Why—?”
She snorted. “Why you?” she offered. “Because my mother is a powerful wizardess and she believes in the prophecy. It has shown her that you are the farrier capable of forging weapons with magic capable of defeating our enemy.” She crossed her arms and looked him over. “While I have my doubts regarding you, I trust in my mother’s abilities.”
He frowned slightly, as if insulted. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?” He waved his hand to indicate her clothes, which were no doubt rather odd for Medieval England. “A student of Merlin?”
“I am a warrior,” she returned matter-of-factly. “A ninja with powers of magic who has been trained to fight The Silence since I was born. For the past five years, I’ve been doing my best to hold back the threat, but I can’t do it alone, which is why I’m here. It’s time for you to join us.”
She waited for him to digest that information. She wasn’t even sure what she would do if he declined to come with her. She supposed she could cast a sleeping spell over him and drag him back to the stream, but she would rather he come willingly. That way, she knew that he wouldn’t be quite so difficult to train when they returned to her time.
Owen thought for sure he was losing his mind, or else he’d fallen and hit his head, causing him to make up this mad dream. Futuristic ninjas that need his help? Honestly, if his father heard him spouting such nonsense, he would cast him out of the house.
Deciding that this attractive woman in black standing so intimidatingly in front of him was nothing more than a fantasy, he smiled easily. “I’m afraid that I can’t go with you, Miss…Elloriam. I have more farm work to do, you see, so I thank you for dropping by, but I must return to my chores.”
He turned away from her and began to walk away. He was just thinking that his legs appeared to be in fine working order when her words caused him to halt once more.
“It will be better if you come on your own, rather than making me drag you away from here.”
He spun back to see her still there, her small form framed by the afternoon sun. “I outweigh you by at least four stone, and yet, you dare to threaten me? Faced against my strength, I don’t see where the odds are in your favor.”
She walked forward slowly. “I think I’ve already proven my agility. Is another demonstration in order?”
He watched her warily. Something abruptly told him that his size and girth would mean little to this fierce woman. “I don’t think that’s necessary, no,” he returned evenly. He lifted a brow. “At least let me gather a few things?”
“We have everything you will require in my time.”
He shook his head. “Not everything.” He disappeared inside the hut and returned with a hammer. “This is the only thing I use to forge metal at my father’s side.”
She studied the object critically and murmured, “Perhaps that’s the true key.” She held out her hand. “Give it to me and I will leave you here to live out the rest of your days with your family.”
He tucked it securely within his trousers and put his tunic on over the top. “I’m afraid not. It never leaves my side.”
“Very well,” she snapped impatiently. “Let’s go.”
Owen rolled his eyes the moment her back was turned, going along with this madness just to see how far she might take this little charade.
It wasn’t until she headed toward the forest, that there was a large crash, followed by the explosion of flames.
“Get down!” Owen cried out as he tackled the woman to the ground without conscious thought.
The ground continued to rumble around them as the area was soon swarmed with men in blue face paint and clothing made with various animal furs. It was a terrifying sight and one that Owen had never wanted to see, for when the Celts came calling, there was generally nothing left behind when they departed.
Chapter 2
Elloriam coughed, the remnants of hay and dirt coating her mouth. A heavy weight was crushing her; with determination and great effort, she was able to push it off of her.
As soon as she was free, the farm boy hissed, “Stay down and out of sight, unless you want your head removed by a sword!”
She jerked out of his grasp and got to her feet. “I’ve fought hundreds of men claiming to be warriors when they aren’t any match for my powers.”
She chose not to reveal the part where she used her magic only when absolutely necessary. However, considering that they about to be plundered by a group of angry Celts bent on destruction, she decided it would be a good time to do so.
She walked out into the clearing, where she was instantly spotted by one of the men. His mouth split in a wide grin. “What d’ we ’ave ’ere?” he said snidely. “’Ave ye come out t’ play wit’ us?”
His chuckle spawned a round of boisterous laughter among his comrades.
It didn’t last long.
Elloriam held up her hand and concentrated on his throat. Even from a distance, she squeezed her fingers together, feeling the satisfaction of his windpipe being crushed and watching him gasp for air. He finally crumpled to the ground, much more subdued than before.
For a moment, the rest of the Celt army was speechless, and then someone shouted, “Witch!”
The lethal hiss of swords being drawn from scabbards followed, and the ground shook and rumbled beneath her as the horde rushed forward, filling the air with angry shouts and cries of an ensuing battle.
She didn’t wait until they were upon her, but summoned the power of a light blast, which she threw in their direction. The force knocked a few of them off their feet and stunned the rest, but she didn’t hesitate. She conjured a sword made of glass and began to tear her way through the enemy. Blood splattered her face and clothes, but she ignored it, focused on her task.
They fell much more easily than The Silence. Within moments, the entire army lay at her feet.
She dissolved the glass sword and turned back to face the farrier. His eyes were round and more than a touch fearful. It wasn’t until he met her gaze that he turned and fled.
Elloriam sighed heavily. If he couldn’t handle one small battle like this one, then she wasn’t sure his mind could comprehend the threat waiting for them when they returned.
But since she had been sent here to retrieve him, that was what she would do.
Waving a hand over herself to clear away the evidence of the fight, she set out after her prey.
Owen stopped behind a tree to catch his breath. He wanted to glance back to see if she was following him, but he knew she was. He could feel her presence as if she was part of the nature around him. She was every leaf on every tree and every blade of grass that covered the forest floor. He sent up a silent prayer that this part of England was covered in dense woods, for while the Celts had destroyed only one section with their catapults, it was miniscule compared to the rest.
“Are you through running from me now?” Owen whipped his head to the side where he saw the woman in black leaning casually against a nearby trunk. He could have sworn she wasn’t there a moment ago.
He blinked. “The blood—”
She shrugged. “I could tell it was distressing you, so I removed it. I’d like you to listen without suffering any more of your foolish hysterics.”
He laughed. “Well, pardon me for being just a bit concerned about what I saw back there! You slaughtered an entire army!”
Her green eyes flashed with determination. “Maybe now you will see why I require your help with The Silence. I can’t defeat them on my own.”
He blinked. “And you think I will be of any assistance? If I would have tried to fight the Celts I would have been run through within minutes!”
“And yet, you aren’t fighting with your full potential yet. I can teach you that.”
His lip curled. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
He ran a hand through his hair. He had to say one thing about her, she was arrogantly confident in her abilities. Then again, he had just witnessed something he never would have believed unless he’d seen it with his own eyes.
In spite of his brain being able to comprehend it all, he no longer had any doubt that she spoke the truth about traveling through time. The question was, could he leave everything behind?
He hardened his jaw. “Can I return when I’m through with whatever it is you require of me?”
She seemed to consider this. “It might be possible.”
He nodded. “Very well, I will go with you, but I have conditions.”
“And what is that?” she asked tolerantly.
“I want my parents to remain unharmed from the Celts.”
She crossed her arms. “I can’t promise that.”
“Why not?” He waved a hand. “You have the power of magic, don’t you? Surely you can cast some sort of…protection spell or something.”
“That’s not really how my magic works. I use it only when necessary and in the moment. It’s not something I can conjure and expect it to last for centuries.” She paused. “However, my mother has that sort of power. I will take you to her for your request.”
Owen considered his options, and seeing that he had no other choice but to put his faith in her, he walked forward until he was towering over her. If his height was his only advantage when it came to this woman, he would take every option he could get.
“I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason.” She brushed past him and said, “Where is the nearest stream? We need water to return to my time.”
He gestured toward the thicket beyond them. “The villagers have a well we could use.”
“I suppose it will have to do,” she murmured. “Lead the way, Mr.…” She trailed off, as she must have realized she hadn’t yet caught his name.
“Owen Mersone,” he supplied, and began to walk through the trees.
Owen… Elloriam stared at his broad back and decided that the name suited him. He certainly acted as though he was well born, even if he was a common farm laborer.
She shifted her focus beyond him. The last thing she needed was to like him. The future was so uncertain. There was a good chance that neither one of them would survive the war with The Silence.
She glanced around her at the soft sounds of the forest and breathed in the clean scent of the air. It would be tempting to remain in this time, but even here lurked the threat of rebellions and unrest. And if they didn’t fix the future, then humanity itself was at stake, as well as everything that she held dear.
They walked for some time and then the sounds of a busy village reached Elloriam’s ears—the clang of a blacksmith, the cluck and squawk of chickens, and even the toll of a church bell. They were such innocuous sounds, yet they were very significant to her, like the music being played on a melodic piano.
Her breath hitched, and although she’d tried to remain quiet, the noise must have caught Owen’s ear, for he turned to face her. The moment he saw the tears trailing down her face, his face relaxed into that horrid emotion of empathy.
She swiped a hand in front of her face and returned to her earlier, stoic demeanor. “I’m fine,” she said before he even had a chance to ask what was wrong. Besides, how could she explain what she was feeling? For someone who had dealt with an enemy force without batting an eyelash, how could the simple sounds of harmony be what touched her heart?
She set her hands on her hips as she glanced around the villagers. “The well?”
He stared at her for a moment and then gestured ahead. “This way.”
Elloriam took off in that direction, but she was careful not to put too much distance between them. She wasn’t quite sure she could trust him not to go back on his word just yet.
“Owen!”
She paused, glancing over as a burly man wearing a blacksmith’s apron walked out of an open hut. This must be his father.
“Is something wrong at home?” asked the man, his eyes sharp with concern.
Owen embraced the man and whispered, “The Celts, Father.”
While it was for his ears alone, Elloriam had the power to hear whatever she concentrated on, and she had the feeling she would be very interested in this conversation.
“God protect us.” His father’s face became pale, but he stood strong. Elloriam admired his strength. She hoped that it would pass along to his son, for that is the only way they would succeed against The Silence.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine now, but I have to…go away for a while.” Owen glanced over at her and then returned his attention to his sire.
His father was quiet for a moment and then he said, “Of course. If you feel you must travel your own way, I won’t stop you. You’re a man now.” He paused. “Have you spoken to your mother?”
Elloriam saw Owen’s throat work as he tried to hold back his emotion. “Not yet. But I will.”
“You can find her near the well. She’s doing the wash.” Before Owen could take his leave, the older man grasped his arm. “I know you’ll make me proud, son.”
Owen nodded, and as he rejoined Elloriam, she could see a glimpse of that honor and character she had been hoping to find. She decided that there might be hope for civilization yet.
As they neared the gray stone well centered in the middle of the village, Elloriam saw a lone woman with dark hair that was turning white at the temples. She was scrubbing a shirt on a washing board that was set in a metal tub. A bar of lye soap sat next to her on the short wall that surrounded the well, standing tall and proud in the center. However, when she heard their approach and she glanced up, the woman dropped everything to rush over and embrace her son.
Elloriam didn’t listen to their conversation, for it was likely to be more emotional than the last. And she didn’t want to feel guilt for tearing Owen from his family’s troubles just so he could manage hers. Then again, it wasn’t just her life he would be saving from The Silence.
She walked over to the well and withdrew a bucket of cool water. She set it on the ground and thought of her mother in her dark robes, standing in her castle next to the sacred bowl. As the image formed and finally cleared, Owen joined her. “Do it now. She went to speak to Father,” he demanded.
Elloriam glanced up to see that his mother had indeed gone. She gestured to bucket. “Remember this image. Keep it in your head and concentrate solely on it.” He nodded. “Now close your eyes and plunge your hands in the water.”
She waited until he complied and then she did the same. The ripples of time soon began to ebb and flow until they consumed her like the last time. But it was slightly different, because she knew she wasn’t alone.
Chapter 3
Owen gasped for air on his hands and knees. His eyes popped open and instead of the stone wall surrounding the well, he was looking down at a smooth, slate floor. His head was spinning, but he refused to disgrace himself by emptying the contents of his stomach. After all, if he truly had traveled through the passage of time, he had no idea where he was, or who might be watching.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Mersone?”
He glanced up to see an average looking lady in black robes looking down at him. Her blue eyes were assessing, but not necessarily friendly. “A little…disoriented.”
“It will pass soon enough,” she said and moved over to another section of the room so that he would have to move in order to see her.
