Susan Spencer Paul - [Enchanter 01] (18 page)

Julia shook her head to clear the water out of her eyes, fisted both hands into the thick wool of his coat and said, “Go on.”

He did. He started running, not fast but at a good, steady pace, first through a great deal of mud (some of which kicked up into her face, but she didn’t complain) with the rain showering heavily over them, and then into a thicket of trees, which provided a small measure of relief from the downpour.

And he kept running, through the trees, weaving in and out, taking care in the darkness not to lose his footing. Every few seconds she could feel him casting a quick glance back, always holding her tightly to keep her from slipping off, to make sure that Abercraf was still behind them.

At last, finally, they came out of the trees and Niclas came to a stop. With care, he slid Julia from his shoulder and set her on the ground, holding her until she was steady on her feet.

There was no light to see his face, but she looked up toward the sound of his labored breathing.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He laughed in the midst of two breaths. “Aye, I’m fine. Are you all right?”

“Perfectly,” she said. “A bit muddy, and a bit confused,” she confessed, scrubbing at her cheeks with the help of the rain to clean them. “But otherwise quite well.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said, the perfect gentleman of the ton, and reached his hands up to help, running his fingers blindly over her face until she politely pushed them away.

Julia mopped her wet hair out of her face and blinked up at him in the darkness. She couldn’t quite see his features, but his form was there, towering over her.

“What on earth has happened?” she asked. “And where on earth are we? And
why
are we standing here in the rain?”

He had no chance to answer before Abercraf at last cleared the trees, breathing harshly and carrying Jane.

Niclas moved quickly to lift her from the manservant’s
drooping shoulder, and Abercraf collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Good man,” Niclas said admiringly. “It doesn’t look like we’ve been followed.”

“Jane!” Julia was at her side in a flash, touching her pale face in the darkness. “What’s happened to her? Jane?” She patted her cheek lightly, but the maid didn’t respond.

“She’ll be fine in a few hours,” Niclas said, cradling Jane with care. “Please don’t worry. We’ll have her out of this rain shortly and safely away in the coach.”

“Where are they?” Abercraf managed between breaths, still on his knees.

“They’re coming now.” Niclas nodded toward the dark road. “I can feel them. Poor Huw is about to faint with anxiety.”

A few seconds later they could hear the sounds of horse hooves in the mud, coming toward them at a rapid pace. Moments after that, shapes became clearer in the darkness: four horses, two with riders, two being led.

“Frank!” Niclas called out. “Here!”

The riders and horses slowed at once and headed directly toward them.

“Sir!”

“Were you followed? Did Cadmaran take the bait?”

Frank came to a stop and dismounted.

“Aye, sir. Just as soon as he realized that Miss Linley was gone and neither you nor the others were anywhere to be found. We had a tricky moment keeping him out of the inn long enough to give you time, but he was obliged to break up the fight Ioan had picked with his man without using magic, and Ioan did a grand job of making that difficult.
I don’t think we were followed. His lordship made certain that the coach was yet there—just as you thought he would, sir—and he and all his men mounted and flew away toward London.”

“Excellent,” Niclas said, his voice filled with relief.

“Hello, miss,” Frank greeted Julia and touched the brim of his hat. “Are you all right? Miss Jane doesn’t appear too well, does she?” He squinted through the darkness.

“Here, take her,” Niclas said, carefully transferring the insensible maid into the coachman’s arms. “Abercraf, let’s get you up.” He strode to where the older man had risen to his feet and accompanied him to one of the horses that Huw was holding. “Can you hold Jane, or shall Frank do it? It won’t take long to reach the inn and the coach and then you’ll be on your way.”

“Be on their way?” Julia repeated anxiously, glancing from Niclas to where Frank held Jane. “But aren’t we all going together?”

“No, we’re not,” Niclas said as he gave Abercraf a leg up into the saddle. “You and I are heading in another direction. I don’t have the time to explain it all now, so I’m afraid you’ll simply have to trust me that it’s the safest thing for all concerned. Are you all right there, Abercraf?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll hold Jane. Give her to me.”

Julia moved quickly to kiss her maid’s cold, wet cheek before she was lifted up to the manservant.

“Take every care with her,” she said, looking up at Abercraf, unable to make out his features clearly in the darkness and rain.

“I will, miss,” he vowed. “Please take care of Mister Seymour for me.”

“I will.” Reaching up, she quickly clasped his hand, wet
from the rain, and squeezed. “Be safe,” she murmured, then stepped back to where Niclas stood.

“Do your best to get the coach away as quickly as you can, but leave it if there’s any chance that Cadmaran or his men have returned. Go no farther than Welshpool tonight, then make your way to Tylluan as quickly as you can. God willing, we’ll meet you there before the week is out.”

“The baron will want to set out after you at once,” Abercraf said, raising his voice above the sound of the rain.

“Make him wait,” Niclas commanded sternly. “If we haven’t arrived before week’s end, then set him loose. Get Jane into Lady Alice’s care as soon as possible. Don’t make the poor girl stay in company with my wild relatives. Now, go!” He reached to slap the horse lightly on its rump.

The three horses cantered away at a brisk pace, swallowed rapidly by the darkness and downpour. Enoch, his reins firm in Niclas’s grip, whinnied after them.

Julia turned to Niclas. “Why aren’t we going with them?”

“We’re going to somewhere safe. I hope. Do you remember what I told you earlier about the necklace, when we were still at the inn?”

Julia’s hand crept up to her neck, and she felt, for the first time, the chain there. It lay beneath her dress, and she pulled to draw it out.

He stopped her. “No, not now. There’s no time. I put it on you to bring you out of the spell—it’s a powerful talisman.”

“A . . . what?” she asked, confused.

“I’ll explain later. Only promise me that you’ll not take it off, for any reason, until either Lord Graymar or I ask you for it. Promise me.”

It was an unreal moment, Julia thought. They were standing in the middle of a wrathful downpour, soaked to the skin, at God alone knew what time of night, on a muddy road just outside of Shrewsbury. Julia couldn’t remember a large portion of what had taken place before they’d come to this spot, but now she was wearing some kind of talisman, and they were being pursued by some nameless danger. All in all, in her opinion, the whole situation could only be termed very strange.

“Please, Julia.” He took hold of her shoulders and brought his face close to her own. “Give me your promise.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “I promise.”

“Good,” he murmured with relief. “Now let’s be on our way. I have a hat for you here.” He turned to the saddle on Enoch’s back and quickly untied one of the bags there. “I should have given it to you at once—I apologize for not doing so. And, here”—he quickly untied his multi-caped greatcoat—“put this on, as well, and we’ll be on our way.”

“But what about you?” she asked, slipping the heavy—and huge—greatcoat over her shoulders. “You’ve no hat or proper coat.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Hold these for a moment, please.” He pressed the reins into her hands and then easily swung up to the great beast. Just as easily, he lifted Julia up to sit before him, and settled her as best he could on the saddle.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, tucking the folds of the coat about her.

She was wet and weary, but warmer in the coat and safe within the confines of his arms.

“I’m fine.”

“Sleep if you wish. We’ll not stop for some time. Now, Enoch.” He leaned forward to pat the horse’s neck once, firmly, as if to gain its full attention. “Find the way quickly. You know our destination. Go!”

Nine

J
ulia fell asleep sometime after they crossed Wales’ border. She had tried so hard not to, but exhaustion, the steady, sure rhythm of Enoch’s stride, and the sheltering warmth of Niclas Seymour’s body enfolding her against the cold rain all worked against her.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when their halting woke her. Groggily she opened her eyes and took in their surroundings. It was still dark, but the rain had diminished to a heavy drizzle.

“Where are we?” she murmured as Niclas lowered her to the soggy ground.

“At the dwelling of friends,” he said, dismounting to stand beside her. “I hope. It depends on how angry they are with Lord Graymar at the moment. We’ll soon find out.”

Julia rubbed her wet face and blinked. They appeared to be standing before a hillside in some kind of clearing, beyond which she could make out a scattering of tall trees. But there was nothing else.

“Where is the dwelling?”

“It’s here, trust me. Among my people things like homes aren’t always readily visible.”

He raised his voice and spoke in Welsh, but, strangely, Julia understood what he was saying.

“Arianrhod! We beg your attendance!”

There was silence, and then Enoch whinnied and tossed his head. Niclas held his reins tightly and murmured for him to be still.

A mist appeared before them, swirling with light and color, and a woman’s lilting voice said, also in Welsh, “Why do you come to us at this hour, Niclas Seymour?”

Before he could reply two wolves bounded out from the trees, running at them full tilt. Enoch whinnied again, though with greater alarm, and Julia took one full step back until she bumped up against Niclas’s chest. His free arm lashed tightly about her waist, pulling her close.

“Tell your brothers to leave us be,” he commanded harshly. “We come as friends.”

The wolves came to a halt before them, teeth bared and growling.

“Friends, you say?” the voice asked. “And how are we to know the truth of that, Niclas Seymour? The lord of the Seymours has not seen fit to visit us these many months. We do not know what his intentions toward us are. Has he sent you to us?”

“No,” Niclas said. “We come in need, asking for shelter and protection. This woman is not one of us, but Morcar Cadmaran wants her for his own purposes.”

The swirling mist disappeared, leaving behind a beautiful young woman dressed in a simple but glittering tunic of green. Her feet were bare and her long brown hair was
unbound, flowing to her hips. Even in the darkness she was fully visible, for she seemed to possess her own source of light, glowing like a heavenly apparition.

“You say that this woman is not one of us, and yet she bears great magic that we feel most keenly. If she is not of our kind, then of what people does she descend?” The lovely creature looked directly at Julia in a questioning manner.

“She’s descended of mere mortals,” Niclas replied, “but she bears a powerful talisman, given to her by the
Dewin Mawr
as protection against the lord of the Cadmarans. She wears the Tarian, which you will know.”

With gentle fingers he reached to draw the necklace out from beneath the neckline of Julia’s dress. She knew that she should object to the bold intimacy of his touch—society and Aunt Eunice would expect it of her—but Julia was beyond caring. Weariness and their most recent experiences had more than killed any sense of propriety. Apart from that, she was standing in a strange clearing in the dead of night, wet to the bone and smelling distinctly of horse, conversing with a woman made of mist and her two wolves. Any attempt at propriety on either her part or Niclas Seymour’s would most likely send her into delirious laughter.

She had grown used to the curious warmth of the necklace lying between her breasts, but hadn’t yet seen it. It glowed with an entrancing light as Niclas pulled it free.

Julia wasn’t sure who made a louder gasp as the necklace came into full view—she or the brilliant creature standing before her. The wolves, standing at the creature’s feet, instantly stopped their growling and teeth-baring and meekly paced a few steps away.

The necklace was beautiful beyond anything she had imagined. It didn’t just glow; myriad colors burst from the crystal set in the midst of the gold, sending out rays like the sun.

If Julia hadn’t believed in magic before—which she had—she certainly would now.

The lovely girl set one delicate hand upon her heart and bowed her head to Julia.

“You are welcome to enter, my lady, and remain for as long as you desire. Niclas Seymour may stay by your side. Come in and be comforted. The lord of the Cadmarans cannot pursue you here.”

The creature began to swirl into mist again, disappearing just as she’d appeared, leaving the two wolves behind. But in the hillside there was now an opening—a wooden doorway that hadn’t been there before.

“You will find a shelter and food for the horse hidden within the trees,” the now disembodied voice continued. “The wolves will guard him until daylight. Enter the dwelling, my lady, and take rest without fear.”

Rest sounded wonderful, but Julia looked doubtfully at the wolves. They stood where they were, looking back at her in a disarming manner that seemed almost . . . human.

“It’s all right,” Niclas murmured near her ear. “They won’t hurt us. Let’s get you inside.”

With his arm about her waist, he led her forward, between the two watchful wolves, and opened the door.

Light and warmth beckoned, and Julia stepped inside to find that the dwelling in the hill was just like a small cottage. The floors and ceiling were made of wood, not earth, as she had supposed they would be, and a cheerful fire
burned in a small fireplace—though heaven only knew where the smoke went to, for there’d been no evidence of it outside.

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