Knight's Legacy (27 page)

Rising, she undressed, flinging the gown from her body as if it were filthy. Cat dressed in her own clothes, picked up her sword, and began practicing, her body moving in tune with old routines, slipping into the movements with ease.

Imagining David there as her partner, she executed each and every move with precision. To start, she stretched her memory to perform the first sword routine she had ever learned. When it was completed she moved on to others, practicing the fencing and sword choreography she had, in the past, perfected. Her anger dissipated as her body and mind strained to accomplish her old stunts, and it was a comfort to her spirit.

Cat pondered the threat that the enemies could attack at any time, and hoped she could fight long and hard, if need be, defending the people of the keep.

She whirled when Roderic entered the chamber.

He studied her momentarily, taking note of her appearance. “Why are you dressed this way, wife?”

“They are my clothes! Why should I not wear them?” Her response was biting, and she stood before him trembling with indignation, ready to do battle.

Giving an impatient shrug, his stern expression belied his indifference. “Wear what you wish, Catherine, but the sword is not a weapon for a lady.”

“It's mine! I am no lady, Roderic, and maybe that is a fantasy I should relieve you of at last. These are my own clothes! This is my weapon! If I could return to my world at this moment, I would. I should have left! But, that chance is dead! That window of escape is closed, and I have no one to berate but myself! I allowed a pretty haze of lust to cloud my reason!”

“Your world? This is the world you spoke of on the landing?” he asked with a puzzled frown.

“Aye, sir. My world. A world you could never understand. Women fight for the battles they choose, and they fight in armies! They have struggled for these rights! It is a world… lost to me now.” She sighed despondently.

“Catherine. Put the sword down.”

Speaking slowly, he enunciated as if speaking to a child, and stepped closer. “You are tired and overwrought.” Roderic's brows gathered at the sight of the sweat on her brow.

Angered even more that he thought he should humor her as he would Kenneth, Cat raised her sword in a mock salute. “Fear not, noble husband. It would suit my desire at this moment to do you harm maybe, but I do not intend to hurt myself.” She snorted derisively.

“You are angry with me?”

“Quite clueless aren't you, laddie? A bit slow to catch on?”

“Give me the sword, Catherine. You are upset, not yourself, and if you lie down and rest, you will think clearer,” he said.

“You want the sword? Then take it!”

It was a challenge, thrown down with no lack of aggression.

“This is foolish, Catherine.”

“Are you afraid, Roderic? Are you afraid you might find I am capable of fighting to defend this keep? Shall we wager? If I hold my own with you, I keep my sword and use it when I please! If not, I do as you wish.”

He smiled. “My wish shall be for your forgiveness this night, and an end to your anger. Will you give it to me and come to bed?”

“Aye,” she said.

“How shall we determine ‘holding your own', as you say?”

Cat wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. He approached this as if it were a game.

“If you do not manage to take my sword from me before the candle is gone?”

Roderic glanced at the candle. The wick would not last more than ten minutes. “Done.”

It was the longest ten minutes of her life. Cat fought using her speed more than her skill, and twice he nearly forced her sword from her grip. She dealt with the blows by using a move she had perfected in one of her films. It called for her to toss the sword in the air, catch it with her left hand, and continue her attack. Fighting with a crude but accurate thrust, she returned her sword to her right hand.

Roderic was amused at her first recovery. “The wager is done, wife. You have lost your weapon.”

“Only for a moment. The wager was you take it from me!”

Continuing to fight with few aggressive moves, he chuckled.

Cat fought on, desperate to prove something to herself, she had spent her life being strong, fighting. As the battle raged within her, she realized she was fighting her own emotions. Caring for this man so deeply, she would gladly give up all convenience, all comforts of the future. Roderic was the one she hoped to be the father of her children. Still, her life as a wife and mother here would mean a surrender, an acceptance of her role as Lady Montwain. Merlin knew this and urged her to surrender to her heart.

The feminine feelings of being protected were unfamiliar and uncomfortable to Cat. She took exception to Roderic's dismissal; she could react no other way.

But, as they fought she could read his confusion. He gave no validation to such injured feelings; in in his world they should not exist. Women were not welcome at a war council, and his wife was no exception. His men would have been insulted.

As she came to the conclusion, Cat became less aggressive in her attack. She wavered when the strange, disquieting thoughts raced through her mind.

Roderic studied her with curious intensity. “Catherine, stop this, now! You have had enough!”

She was exhausted, and the chamber suddenly fell to darkness. The candle had burned out. Backing away, she turned from him, and dropped to her knees. Behind her she heard his efforts to light another candle.

He stared at her in amazement. “You are truly skilled with your weapon. But, I knew this from the moment I saw you defend Kenneth. What more did you need to prove to me?”

“I had to prove something to myself. Roderic, no matter how much loyalty you have from me, I will not be owned! I know how to fight, and I want to carry my sword.”

“If I allow you to use it in battle, it could mean your death!”

She breathed deeply, dragging the air into her lungs. “It could also mean my life! If they attack, I will fight! I must! “

“Why do you feel you must do this? I will protect you!”

“For a very good reason! No one has over protected me, I've stood alone! I'll go on alone! I don't want to need you!”

Cat was stunned by her outburst. Roderic knelt down to put his own weapon aside, then carefully took her in his arms.

Disheartened, she held him tightly. Cat had begun to trust him more than she had ever trusted anyone in her own time, even her family.

All the longing for her place in the future began to dissipate. Her life was here, now, with Roderic, and in spite of her independent nature, there was a deep abiding desire to lay down her struggle, to allow someone else the power to care for her. Cat wanted a partner, someone she could, at times, lean on. In her own time, it would be considered silly, feminine, and weak. In this time, it was not only permissible, it was a way of life.

“Fear not your need of me, my love. For I, too … have need of you.”

He spoke tenderly as he kissed her brow, and carried her to bed.

It was her whimper, a soft, yet desperate cry in the night that warned him. Roderic moved with lightening quickness to avoid the blow of the sword. It was imbedded with a heavy force near his ear when Cat screamed his name. His attacker next tried to pierce him with a knife. He was not accurate in the darkness because Catherine had risen to cover Roderic's side, to protect him. Screaming out, this time in pain, she continued to fight courageously, and it was then Roderic realized the enemy was dragging her from their bed. Catherine was the true prey, not himself, and the rage that any man would hurt his wife surged up inside him, a deadly bile.

Letting out a roar of anger, Roderic grabbed his sword and attacked, lunging with a sword thrust, but uncertain if he had truly wounded his opponent. The enemy let out a brief grunt of pain and fought with all his considerable strength. After a mighty blow, Roderic felt the bone in his right arm come close to breaking when the intruder struck. His enemy broke his hold on the sword and flung it from them to slide across the stone floor.

Suddenly the big man was pulled off of him and a flash of brilliant light blinded them both for seconds. In the center of the light stood a lone figure, calling out.

“Catherine!”

Roderic heard the sound of the enemy fleeing the room. His own fear was at war with the recognition of the familiar voice. Once heard in kindness, it was now an angry, vicious hiss.

“This is not to be born!”

Arms outstretched, the fire flew from the old one's fingertips. Darkness enveloped them for a heartbeat, then a beaming lavender light as a cold wind swirled around them. Roderic covered his eyes to save them, and came to his knees.

“Roderic!”

The cry was from Catherine, weak and breathless. Frantic to find her, to help her, he opened his eyes while he struggled to his feet. What he saw took his breath as he staggered in shock and disbelief.

The old one stood, the smoky light behind him, lavender in color, beautiful. Under his arm he held Catherine close to support her. Bleeding from her shoulder, her face was white and drawn. Her green eyes spoke to him of tenderness, and she spoke the next words as if they were her last. “Roderic … I love you.”

Roderic knew then. He would lose her. The word came up from his belly in a frantic shout. “No!”

The old one closed his robe around her, and the brilliant light, bright as many suns, flashed again. Roderic slipped to the floor, and felt the cold stone to his cheek as he reached out to be engulfed in blessed darkness.

Honour thy father and mother … That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.

~Ephesians 6: 2, 3

C
atherine. You mustn't sleep any longer. Open your eyes. Wake up.”

Cat felt the enticing pull of the deep sleep once again. Still, the nagging voice persisted. “Catherine.”

“Merlin … help me,” she murmured. Struggling against the disturbing visions dancing about her brain, she moaned. Someone pursued her and she tried to back away. The pain in her shoulder suddenly brought her to full consciousness.

“That I have, child. Look about you,” said Merlin.

Doing as he asked, she blinked her eyes to focus. She was in a hospital room, very modern. Obviously, she was in her own time.

Merlin was dressed in blue scrubs and a white coat. His long hair was pulled back behind him, and he could have passed for any surgeon making rounds.

“Where am I?”

“Saint Luke's Memorial, near the medical center,” he said.

“Saint Luke's! In Houston? You've brought me to Texas?” she gasped weakly.

He lowered his voice while he glanced furtively at the door. “Aye. The portal is not a door that only opens and closes in Scotland, miss. Think of it as a road, a means of travel that is open to but a few. Would you not have sought to find your father had I brought you to Scotland?”

“Yes. You're right, of course. I would have come here to find my father because I must. But, you told me I would have to forever stay if I decided not to meet you. So … why?”

He reached out to take her hand. “It was never my purpose to bring you back in time to be murdered in your bed! You must also make a reconciliation with your past, a peace with your father. Then and only then can true harmony be found with Roderic. You must return to him with no regrets, no wavering goals, but with a new strength and purpose. I did not wish for him a corpse as a wife.”

“Bluster all you like, Merlin. You could not abandon me to primitive medicine, and that is the truth of it,” she said with a feeble smile.

“I will not see you again, Catherine, until I come for you. You will be properly healed here, then you may visit your father. I will return for you,” he said.

“Thank you, old friend,” she whispered. Touching her lips with her fingertips, she blew a kiss to Merlin as he left the room. Once again she fell into a deep sleep.