The fields were sparse with grain, showing signs of a weak harvest. Neglect and death seemed to permeate the lands. As they moved in closer, an unnatural silence seemed to hang over the land.
Ewan kept his hand upon his weapon as they crouched low. Two serfs saw them, but made no greeting. There was hopelessness in their posture, as if they no longer cared. Ewan motioned for Trahern to move to the right side of the outer wall while he investigated the breach at the left point.
He spied several guards patrolling the gates, so he kept low as he traversed the outer perimeter. It was possible to move inside the wall by squeezing through the stones, but as he eyed the crevice, he had a vision of getting stuck, just as before.
Too late to worry about that now.
Ewan moved slowly, working his way through the breach. The vines kept him hidden, while the fallen stones offered a clear view of the outer bailey. He hoped to God that the entire wall would not collapse on him as he slipped inside.
Once he made it through, Ewan saw that the castle grounds had been torn apart, as though John had ordered his men to dig up the entire bailey. He heard voices arguing, and John’s voice mingled with another man’s. Glancing toward his brother on the far side of the entrance, Ewan motioned his intent to move in.
Not far from his vantage point was a wooden cart, waiting to be unloaded. It was a possible hiding place, one that would offer protection from the guards.
Ewan waited for the right moment, then kept his position low as he dove beneath the cart. Though he couldn’t see John clearly, he could hear the argument.
“Find her. It won’t be hard to locate the MacEgan lands in Erin. I want her brought back to Ceredys.”
“My lord, we are doing all that we can.”
“You should have loosed your arrows upon them both,” John cursed. “She knows where the St. Leger treasure lies. And I’ll see her flesh stripped away, piece by piece, before I’ll let Honora take what belongs to me.”
Ewan had heard enough. He didn’t like leaving Honora alone on the beach, especially now. But before he could make his way back to the outer wall, a rider entered the gates at full speed. After he dismounted, Ewan overheard the rider talking to John.
“My lord, she is here. A boat just arrived.”
“Bring her to me,” John ordered.
“As you wish, my lord.” The rider cleared his throat, “But you should know she and her escorts are digging along the shore.”
“Are they?” John’s voice turned softer. “Good. Prepare my horse so that I may welcome the Lady of Ceredys home again. And bring the prisoner.”
A prisoner? Ewan didn’t know what John meant by that, but he was running out of time to reach Honora’s side. He held his position steady until he was able to abandon the cart. Racing back toward the wall, he pushed his way through the vines until Trahern followed. Once he saw that his brother was clear of any danger, Ewan quickened his pace back to their horses.
It seemed he would have his chance to kill John of Ceredys, sooner than he’d thought.
Therewasnothing.Nota trace of the treasure, and Honora had scoured most of the pathway she had once traversed when Marie had walked by her side. She didn’t even know what she was looking for.
“It’s useless,” she remarked, but neither of the men understood her language. With no way to communicate with them, she was forced to wait upon Ewan and Trahern’s return.
Her mind felt disconnected, her fears rising. Though she had encouraged Ewan and Trahern to recruit other men from the village, she didn’t know if the people of Ceredys would trust them. Visions of failure haunted her, and she feared for their safety.
She envisaged Ewan’s face, his ragged blond hair and fierce green eyes. He had come here for her, though it meant risking his own life.
Last night, the truth had suddenly crystallized. Ewan wasn’t at all like other men. Instead of taking over the assault plans on Ceredys, he had allowed her to take command, deferring to her orders. He could easily have forced her to stay in Erin while he went off to fight. Instead, he’d remained at her side, steadfast and treating her as an equal. He meant everything to her, and once they made it through this ordeal, she was never going to leave his side.
A pensive smile tugged at her lips. And, if she somehow managed to find the St. Leger treasure, she would give every last coin to him, to make his dreams into reality.
Sitting down upon a large rock, Honora studied the shoreline. A large expanse of sand lined the edge of Morecambe Bay. She had walked through the grasses, nearly every day. Marie had warned her not to go beyond the path, saying, “The tides are never predictable, and you must be careful not to stray.”
Honora had seen the bodies of men, washed up from sudden floods, and because of it, she had always heeded Marie’s advice.
Rising to her feet, she began to walk down the hillside path upon a worn stretch of dying grasses. Though Marie St. Leger could not walk quickly, she’d often spoken of her love for the sea.
Honora thought again of the parchment and the curse of the sea god. She shielded her eyes, staring out at the water. Could the treasure be hidden beneath the waves? Such a location would be nearly impossible to find, for the tide was constantly shifting and changing. Nothing was constant.
Unless . . .
She stared back at the pathway, and then at the water. The tide was starting to reveal sand embankments, stretches of buried land. It was possible . . .
