Ria Cantrell - Celtic Storm 03 (23 page)

Turning to Randall, she said, “Oh Monty, I have to tell him.”

“Go ahead, love. I have no shame in it. It was done to me, against my will. Perhaps once inside, more will come back to me.”

He took her hand across the saddles and kissed it and he said, “Go ahead.”

“Sir, I am Janelle Fitzhugh nee Follet. Lord Randall came to my home injured and ill. Sir, I beseech you, Lord Randall has suffered greatly. If you please, Sir. His memory has been compromised. He did not remember where he was supposed to return to.”

Erik thought that perhaps the woman was lying but he could see there was a look of confusion on the man’s face. Could she be telling the truth? The idea was preposterous. Again Erik looked about his surroundings and could still detect no movement in the trees. With a silent signal and a quick jerk of his head, his men surrounded the small riding party and urged them forward. Erik raised his hand and turned toward the keep, knowing his guards would have his back. He called, “Lower the bridge.”

They could hear the grinding of the chains as gears turned to lower the drawbridge. Simultaneously, the portcullis was raised. Erik drew his mount to the side to allow the party to pass him. He would bring up the rear and have the gates immediately shut upon his entry until it could be determined that no further danger lie in wait for them. As the small riding party entered the outer bailey, Erik rode silently behind them. After they were all inside, he called to the watchtower to raise the bridge again and lower the portcullis. The gates were secured after he passed into the bailey and dismounted his destrier. Randall dismounted and he helped Janelle down off her ride. Erik did not give his men an order to relieve their flanks and so even after they had dismounted their own horses; they formed a semi-circle around the new arrivals and escorted them into the main hall.

Holding onto Janelle’s hand, Randall was not so addled that he did not realize they were all under heavy guard. These men took their post quite seriously and though it made him bristle a bit to be under arrest in his own home, he was grateful for the assistance while he had been away.

Randall scanned the faces of the many people crowding the main hall. There were familiar faces but none that he could name at the moment. Why were there so many people crammed into the place? As they were herded into the keep, a loud voice was heard screaming, “Let me go. I need to see him. Unhand me, you dolt!” All heads turned in the direction of the distraught woman. Erik sighed heavily. He should have known that no amount of pleading with Rhianna would have stayed her will.

As the mass of people moved aside, Rhianna ran into the hall, breaking free from the man who was holding her wrist and she flung herself at Randall. Tears of joy and relief streaked her face and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheeks. Janelle looked stricken.
This must be his wife.
She stood off to the side and watched as Randall slowly raised his arms and hugged the beautiful dark-haired woman. She could see that recognition now lit his eyes and there was love there, too. Janelle’s heart sank, but she had vowed to see this through and so it would be done.

Randall’s eyes welled at seeing his sister. He knew her.
Thank God, he knew her!
He choked back his emotion and said, “My beautiful Rhianna. You don’t know how good it is to see you.”

“Oh, Randall, I thought you were dead…we all thought you had met an untimely end.”

“Well, here I am,
mon chere
. Back where I belong.”

Rhianna hugged him. He appeared thinner, but overall, he seemed hale. She looked up into his face and noted that, though he knew who she was, there was a sense of distance about him. He was tentative in his welcome. She kissed his face over and over and cried, “What happened to you? Why did you not come home?”

“I--I did not know where home was, my sweet girl.”

Rhianna’s brow knitted together.

“What do you mean? You have forgotten your birthplace and you have forgotten me?”

“For a time, aye. It is coming back to me now, mon chere.”

Rhianna laid her head on his chest and tears drizzled down his doublet. What horrible thing had happened to her brother to cause such a malady?

Erik stood by, his guts twisting at the anguish ripping his beloved Rhianna’s heart in two. He felt a lump form in his throat at the scene before him and he hovered near, wishing he could somehow ease her tears once again.

Randall patted her back and he said, “There now. I am home safe. Who is this big brute standing behind you?”

Randall could see that before they entered the grounds of the keep, the Nordic beast was not set in welcome, but as he stood behind his sister, the look on his face changed and softened. Randall could tell that this man cared for his sister. When he saw her turn around and glance at the man, Randall saw that it would seem his sister cared for the man as well.
More than cared, actually.
There was a sexual tension that was visible to him and something else.
Love. His little sister, the ice maiden, was in love!

Rhianna took Erik’s hand and she said, “Randall, this is Sir Erik Ragnorsen, one of the king’s men sent to secure du Montefort in your absence. He is my….,” Her voice faltered. She could not just blurt out that Erik was her lover.

“Betrothed,” Erik offered easily. His left arm snaked around her waist and he offered his right hand to Randall. A loud gasp mixed with glee was heard behind Randall and now, all heads turned to the woman waiting in the background. There were tears in her eyes and as they, too, splashed down her face, Randall smiled. “She is my sister, Janelle. And I remember her.”

“Oh, praise God. She is your sister.”

Randall beckoned Janelle to come join him and he presented Janelle Fitzhugh to his sister. He then clasped Erik’s forearm and said, “That was quite a welcome party you sent out for us.”

Erik quirked a half smile and he sheepishly said, “I could not be sure that there was no trap being set for us. There has been some trouble to your neighbors and we have opened the keep to protect your vassals. Forgive me for my…hem…overly zealous caution.”

Randall nodded. In truth he was quite grateful for the protection offered to his home and he was even more grateful that somehow, his sister had fallen in love. Thinking of love, he looked at Janelle and he winked at her. He kissed her fallen tears off her face and he said, “See; it is going to be alright…I think.”

He turned back to Rhianna and he said, “
Mon chere
, I don’t have a wife or a betrothed, do I?”

Rhianna laughed. It would seem that her brother had found a mate as well.

“No, Randall. You were quite the eligible catch, but it would seem that you are finally taken.”

“So too, it seems that you are.”

Rhianna rolled her eyes. So his thorny little rose and the Viking god were not smitten at first sight. He might have known that Rhianna was going to give the man a run for his money, but Erik Ragnorsen seemed up to the task and there was no doubt that there was a strong connection between the two.

Randall turned to face Janelle and he said, “I remember, Janelle. I remember many more things. You were right. Being here has helped me to remember.”

Janelle smiled, although tears hung on her lashes still. She said, “That was my hope, beloved. Now you will finally recover.”

~Chapter Twenty-Seven~

Randall’s brows were drawn together as all his memories seeped back, slowly at first, then like a growing trickle until, they poured forth like an unstoppable flood. It was almost too much for him to bear. Rhianna noticed the stricken look on her brother’s face. He had gotten deathly pale and looked like he was going to collapse before them. With an unspoken communication, she beseeched Erik’s assistance. He and Drew each took one of Randall’s arms and they quickly helped him to a private sitting room off of the main hall. Once they were inside, they closed the door behind them. They bid him to sit down, but he looked dazed. Rhianna was horrified. Something was very wrong with her brother. Erik went back into the hall and spoke to a serving maid, instructing her to bring some strong spiced wine to the antechamber along with some bread and cheese.

Erik had seen this sort of thing happen before to men who had seen too much on a battlefield. It was like the images of horror could not be stopped. Some memory was too much for Randall to process. Something horrible had happened to him and his memory lapse had spared him this agony, until this very moment.

Janelle was calling to him, “Monty, Randall, speak to me…please, my love…speak to me.”

But he could not. He could only look at her as one from a distance. Instead, the images that had been kept locked away these months suddenly surfaced and replayed themselves like a terrible nightmare. Only he was not asleep. He was very much awake and aware of all those things that he had been shielded from since he had shown up on Janelle’s doorstep.

When the maid brought the wine and food, Erik again closed the door and brought it over to Rhianna’s brother. He said, “Take a sip, man.”

Randall turned and looked at the tall stranger who was his sister’s betrothed. Something in the way he said it made Randall seem to snap back to the present.

“I don’t know what just happened. I started remembering things and…I…”

“Just take a good gulp. You can talk about it when you are ready. It is like being battle weary. It happens to us all at times.”

Randall took a deep draft of the spiced wine and he felt its warmth seeping into his veins, which had suddenly seemed to flow with ice. He took another steadying sip of the strong wine and he looked up at the tear stained faces of Janelle and of Rhianna. He had upset them and he felt embarrassed. He stammered, “I am so sorry.”

Janelle knelt before him and took his hand to her lips. She covered the back of it with kisses and she said, “Oh Monty, what happened? I have never seen you react so.”

“The memories, Beloved. They flooded me. I--remember--everything.”

Turning to face Erik, he stood; still feeling unsteady on his feet. He said, “I do not know how to thank you.”

“It was just a goblet of wine.”

“No. It is much more than that. The evilness of the man who caused this injury to me cannot be underestimated. You have protected my keep and my sister.”

Erik said humbly, “I have been here less than one full moon.”

“Your presence here marks this keep protected.”

Rhianna spoke up and asked, “Randall, who did this to you? What was done to you to cause this ill humor cast upon you?”

Taking another gulp of the strong spiced wine, Randall swallowed as if he was preparing for a bout with Satan himself. He said, “Aaron Jasper,” and when he said the name, it was as if he had indeed mentioned the devil in the flesh.

Rhianna now paled and Erik caught her lest she swoon. If Randall had fallen victim to the evil lord of Morcar Keep, it was her fault and Jasper would not stop until he had inflicted pain on each of them. She knew that now. She was not going to swoon but she felt sick to her stomach. Whatever had befallen Randall was her fault. She had rejected the advances of that hideous monster and he had seen to try and destroy Randall.

Randall looked from Rhianna to Janelle and he saw their anguish visibly present on their faces. He wished he could comfort them, but what he had to say was going to frighten them terribly, only they had to hear it. They had to be aware of what this evil man was capable of.

He steeled himself and drained the goblet. He said, “I think I need another drink.”

~~~~~

Aaron Jasper cursed in a blind tirade when his spy returned with news of a small riding party seen seeking arrival at Montefort. He had his spies hidden well within the village. He even had a trusted serf who worked within the castle walls who would carry tales and news of the goings on inside the keep back to his ears. His consort confirmed his fear. The wraith had returned from the dead, it seemed and was nestled back in his feather bed, he supposed. The drugs he had given the dog had been out of his body for some time now, since he escaped Morcar’s clutches. By now, his memory would be returning and du Montefort would remember Aaron’s hand in his sorry state.

Aaron did not know how he was to proceed now that his plans had been heartily thwarted. He should have killed du Montefort when he had the chance and then his precious sister would be Morcar’s for the taking. He had been satisfied with the terror that had been inflicted on the good people. Why, they practically had run in fear to du Montefort Keep at the news of the neighboring village’s demise. It was perfect. He was not going to strike again for some time. He would let the people be lulled into a false sense of security and then, when they were back to their complacent little idylls, he was going to cut them a blow that would undermine the king’s men sent to watch over the du Montefort demesne. But first, he wanted them filled with fear and his goal of inflicting terror in their hearts had been achieved.

Now, Aaron would have to rethink his plan to take that she dog, cur in heat, Rhianna, for she was ripe for the taking. Randall would surely give Aaron up as soon as he was able to tell the tale of his capture and mistreatment by Aaron’s hand.