Rose Victory - Eagle Series (6 page)

The moment Roydon opened his
eyes in the morning, the words he had heard in the darkness come crushing down on him. 

 
“No,” he whispered, looking desperately around the small clearing.  “NO!” His voice rose as he stood up and walked to the rocky parapet to look down at the trees and then up at the brilliant blue sky.  He knew it was too late.  No eagle soared above the mountain; no speck on the horizon drew his attention.  His eagle lady was gone, only her words replayed in his head. 

“This night is the beginning, a
s it was meant to be.  I have taken what you freely offered.” 
His Lady’s voice had sounded sad, but strangely excited at the same time
.  “The rest will follow in the fullness of time.” 
She had paused then and a tense inflexion had invaded the following words.
  “Carry on with your life.  Save our mountain.  Tell no one.”

Roydon knew she gave him leave to continue with his plans to marry.  But how could she know the predicament he found himself in?  Shaking his h
ead, he thought back to her last words as he turned back to the cliff face.

“I will return when the time is right,”
and then she had confirmed her pledge to him.
  “I am Eagle too and I have only one life mate.  You are my mate.”

As if on cue, Roydon looked down at the blanket where they had lain and the sight of the dark stain of his lady’s
purity brought him to his knees.  A single golden feather rested on the blanket, the early morning light glinting on the solitary quill. 

T
his time the roar that disturbed the peace of the mountain was filled with pain and despair.  Roydon bowed his head, his lady’s golden feather clutched in his hand and held against his heart.

Ten years later and still that golden feather
remained tucked against his heart.  The earl of Eagle Rock shook his head despairingly at himself.  Even after all this time, he still looked expectantly at the sky hoping to see his eagle lady winging her way towards him.

Countless times he had returned to the hidden ledge in the mountain,
but always in vain. His Lady never returned.

The only person who knew about his encounter was Stefan and he
only knew about the lady, not about the transformation.  His friend seemed to have enough trouble believing that there could have been a lady on the mountain.  He would have thought him completely insane if he told him of the rest.  Even he was starting to think that it might all have been a dream, a beautiful dream.  But it could not have been more real; her virgin’s blood on the blanket proved it.  The missing cloak could not be explained either.

When he c
ame down from the mountain, he started a search for her.  The missing cloak pointed to the fact that the Lady might have walked away rather than flown.  He ordered the mountain, the forest, the whole valley to be searched but to no avail.  No sign of his eagle lady anywhere, no one appeared to have seen her.

Eventually, with
his bride awaiting his arrival, he left for Northolt.  His responsibility to his people, to his mountain home, a duty he could not forsake or ignore no matter his feelings or his desires.  His Lady wanted him to save the mountain, so he went to collect his wife.  That thought remained his sole comfort in those dark days.

Fortunately
his bride, like her father, viewed the marriage as what it ultimately was; an agreement to acquire allies, to consolidate power and to safeguard borders.  The old earl of Eagle Rock had chosen well.  Earl Reinhart remained a powerful ally to this day.  His daughter’s dowry carried Eagle Rock through the winter until the Holding became self-sufficient again.  His sire’s foreign investments had borne fruit five years ago.  Eagle Rock would never need or want for anything ever again.  His only regret remained the missing Saracen jewels, these having never been found.

Well that and his heir.  The earl raked a hand through his recently shorn hair, where already silver threads
peppered the thick blackness.  At nearly two score he still did not have a male heir and now no wife either, although he did have his two little girls.

Emma, a
practical and straight-forward woman just like her father, never expected love or any other silly notion, as she herself would have put it.  Honour always remained her driving force and she honoured her father’s betrothal agreement to her dying day, nearly a year ago.

H
e still missed her companionship.  They had dealt well together.  Mutual respect grew into a deep affection, especially after the birth of their daughters.  Stefanie was seven and little Alexandra six.

Six and
five respectively when their mother died in childbirth.  Emma had desperately wanted to give him his heir, a son to inherit Eagle Rock.  The little baby girl died hours after its mother, too small and weak to survive.

A sharp cry from
above made the earl quickly search the sky for its source.  The two resident golden eagles of his mountain glided effortlessly above the castle and then turned away to soar over the valley.  The mated pair disappeared into the early afternoon haze, their cries echoing long after they were out of sight.

Roydon sighed.  His heart jumped each time he heard a cry.  After ten long years of waiting he still expected his eagle lady to return.  He tried to forget, to get on with his life.  Even now, his friend and his duty both, urged him to re-marry, to beget his heir.  But now he could choose.  If only she returned to him as she had promised she would.  She was his mate.  His lady had pledged herself to him and now that he was free he could do no less.  After waiting ten years, he would still be willing to wait forever to recapture the magic, the fulfilment, the oneness of that beautiful night.

“Mooning again,
Roy?”  A hearty slap on his back from Stefan snapped the earl out of his thoughts and nearly tumbled him down the castle steps to the courtyard below.

“Thinking on my grave responsibilities.”  The earl’s expression remained solemn but a twinkle appeared in his eyes.

“That is why your hair has turned white,” Stefan exaggerated, nodding his head wisely.

“And why yours remains untouched by the passage of time?”  At the huge grin that broke across Sir Stefan’s face, the earl continued.  “I have been thinking of giving you Brentford Keep
…”

“Bite your tongue,
Roy!”  All amusement left Stefan’s face.  “I have no wish or desire for land.  I am perfectly content with my present circumstances.”

“But it’s time you moved on Stefan.  You have been commander of my troops for ten years.  Surely you want a wife, children?”

Stefan shook his head categorically.  “I get all the bed sport I want without the need of a wife and your daughters are like my own; it has scarcely been a week since we took them up to Northolt and already I miss them.  I do not want the responsibility of a Holding.”  Stefan hesitated, a raised eyebrow and a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.  “Unless you tire of my presence?” he added, unable to decipher the earl’s closed expression.

“I just wanted to provide the means for adding some silver to your temples
…”  Roydon could no longer hold back the laugh he had been suppressing for the last few minutes.  “And you have been hounding me to get a wife for the last few months.  It feels good to get back at you.  The look on your face when I offered you a holding and a wife has no price.”

“Very funny.”  The relief in Stefan’s voice as he smiled grudgingly at his frie
nd did not stop him from adding his usual advice.  “But whereas you need a male heir to leave your title and holdings to, I do not,” he ended smugly.

“You are beginning to sound like my father, Stefan.”

“I do try to please, my lord.”  Stefan grinned, undaunted.

“His friend’s words extracted a reluctant sm
ile from the earl.  “I don’t want just any woman.”

Stefan knew exactly what Roydon wanted.  “You have waited ten years for the lady from the mountain,
Roy.  I doubt she will ever return.  I am sorry, my friend.”

“She said she would return.”  A stubborn expression settled on the earl’s face.

“I understand what you are saying but even if she did not wish to come forward while your wife lived, it has now been a year.  You cannot wait forever.  You need an heir.”  Stefan laid a comforting hand on the earl’s arm.  “You love this place too much to lose it for your descendants.”

Roydon looked out on his fortress, his people, his land, as he had done from this same spot so many times before.  He knew his friend spoke the truth but something inside him just refused to surrender.   He had touched the sublime and now refused to give in again to the mundane, at least not yet.

“I am not yet in my dotage, Stef, but I do promise to come to my senses before it is too late.”

Sir Stefan knew he would get no more from his friend.  He had made his point, no
w he needed to get that worried frown on the earl’s face to disappear.  “Speaking of dotage, I am not too sure that you are not already there.”  Stefan sent his friend an enquiring look.  “I  won our last combat and yesterday, I am told, your new knight, young Ivan, actually made you lose your hold on your sword,” his lips twitched.  “I would have given anything to see it.”

A d
ull red tide suffused Roydon’s face at the reminder and Stefan laughed.  “I got distracted,” the earl excused his lapse.

Stefan laughed harder.  “A good excuse as any to get killed, I suppose.”

The earl smiled sheepishly at the knight’s humour but there appeared a gleam of anticipation in his dark eyes.  “Care to cross swords with me now, my friend?” he challenged.  “Or better yet, commander,” Roydon grinned evilly.  “As your lord, I require your immediate presence on the training field.”

Stefan nearly
choked on his laughter; he had certainly managed to get Roydon to forget his worries.  “You are going to try to pound me into the ground again?” Stefan gasped between guffaws.

“You can forget about the ‘trying’ part.  I
will
pound you into the ground.  Then we will see just who is in their dotage.”  The earl gestured regally for a still laughing Stefan, to precede him down the steps.

Roydon waited for Stefan to start his decent and then
smiling openly at his friend’s shaking shoulders, he added.  “And when I have finished with you, I will see about cutting off one of the two heads that
Sir Ivan
has been strutting around with since yesterday.”

Stefan collapsed onto the steps, holding onto his aching sides.  “Enough, Roy, please,” he begged wiping tears
of mirth from his face.  Ivan
had been
strutting around like a cock since he managed to disarm his lord yesterday.

The earl sat down on the steps beside his friend.  “The impertinent pup actually had the gall to ask me what had distracted me,” he grinned showing strong, white teeth.  “I nearly bit his head off.”

Stefan sobered abruptly.  “I could have told him without even being there.”

“You could?
”  Roydon cocked his head to the side.

“The cry of an eagle,” Stefan stated without the shadow of a doubt, concern for his friend clear in his voice.

The earl said nothing.  He just stared down at his hands for a long while.

Enough,
thought Stefan again, point made.  He hoped Roydon would be more careful in future.  Quickly he rose from the steps.  “Have you changed your mind about the pounding, my lord?”  The blatantly fake servility in his voice made the earl look up at him suspiciously.  “Because I have an eagle waiting for my signal, he will distract you and then I can…”

“You are an idiot, Stefan.”  Roydon knew very well what his friend attempted.  “I will be careful,” he acknowledged and then remembering something that Stefan had said
earlier, he continued.  “I will say this only once,” the earl started with a warning, his voice an embarrassed growl.  “Never again question your welcome here.  Be you commander of my troops or not, this is your home.  I would have it no other way.”  Then, before Stefan could even think of a reply that would probably get them both embarrassed, he added in a lighter tone.  “In fact it would seriously displease me to have to find another sparring partner.  Now help this ‘old man’ up so that I can show you exactly what I mean by a pounding.”

Stefan clasped his friend’s arm and pulled him to his feet.  The strong grip conveyed more than what mere words could
have said.  They had saved each other’s lives in battle and they had also killed their enemies to preserve the others’ life.  Their bond went deeper than friendship, deeper even than brotherly affection.  Neither would think twice before risking his life for the other.  But that still remained something of which men did not speak, so Stefan just turned around and called back over his shoulder.  “As I said before; you can but try.”

“Try what, Sir Stefan?”

“Ah, the cock approaches.”

“Sir?”  Ivan was no longer the awkward
lad he had been at ten.  Now at twenty the young man had filled out and at just under six feet, his strength was apparent in his wide shoulders and heavily muscled arms.  Newly knighted by the earl himself, Ivan had taken the position of household knight that had been promised to his father so long ago.

“Your presence, Sir Ivan, is required on the training field by his lordship,” Stefan
looked at him consideringly.  “Something about a cock with two heads, I believe.”

“A cock?”  Ivan looked up in
bewilderment at the earl.  “My lord?  Is he drunk?”

“No, but he is going to wish he were in a few minutes.”  Roydon eyed his former squire intently, a devilish glint in his eyes.  “
As will you.”

“Drunk?”  Ivan didn’t understand anything.

“Do not worry overmuch, Ivan.  The beheading will not take long but the pounding, on the other hand, I believe will take a lot longer.”

“How right you are, Stefan,” Roydon grinned wolfishly.  “And I am so going to enjoy
it.”

“Beheading?  Pounding?”
  The young knight’s bemused blue eyes stared at Sir Stefan.

“He is a
raven, not a cock, Roy!  He keeps on repeating everything.”

“A
raven?” Ivan repeated, complete incomprehension etching his features into a slight frown.

Both Roydon and Stefan burst into laughter while
Ivan looked at the two men as if they had gone mad.  Then he turned and head high, he strutted off in the direction of the training field.  The two men laughed even harder as they followed him.

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The boy trotted along beside the small cart that carried the old woman up the steep path towards the castle.  He stared in awe at the enormous structure that seemed to grow from the side of the mountain.  The boy had never seen anything like it.  Not that he ever went anywhere.  This was the first time that Nona, the old woman who had cared for him ever since he could remember, took him beyond the little village near to where they lived.  He remembered going to that village for the first time when he was six.  Bigger, older boys had taunted him, hit him and called him names he didn’t understand when he tried to join in their play.  The next time he returned with Nona, he retaliated.  Even though he was smaller, he bloodied their noses.  They never bothered him again.