

### Noble

### Courage

# Book One of the Aspen Series

Daisha Marie Korth

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright  2006 by Daisha Marie Korth

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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This book is dedicated to Mrs. Browne, my Jr. High School English teacher, who showed me the wonders of expressing my thoughts and dreams on paper to share with the world.

And, special thanks to my son, Dominik, for his unconditional support and his loyalty as my first fan, and to Burgandy for helping me find the motivation to keep going, even when I doubted myself.

### Chapter 1

The day was just beginning. A myriad of surreal pastels lightened the night sky in the transformation from night to day. Aspen raised her face to the sun peeking over the rolling green hills that surrounded her village. The sun was a rare vision to behold, for the sea that lay some distance away kept it hidden in clouds and the countryside in mist. A faint smile touched her lips and she tucked a lock of mahogany hair behind her ear, reflecting that the glory of the sun had to be a sign of great things to come, and she rounded a bend in the path where her two best friends were waiting for her. Today was the day that they had been invited for a recital with the marvelous Earl of Rosehill. He had been the man who made it possible for her to be so blessed to attend instruction in reading words and writing them down on parchment, to become fluent in music playing the harp and flute, to be able to figure numbers. It was unheard of to teach the poor, but this man held such compassion for his people that he only wanted what was the very best for them. Aspen had never met the man, but she held a love of gratitude in her heart for the earl and his generosity.

"What has kept you, Aspen? We are nearly late!" Jennessa called out into the stillness of the morning.

Jennessa was a raving beauty with her long dark hair the color of coffee beans in her mama's tins at home, her eyes were soft brown like the sweet hound's that wandered from farm to farm and compassionate so you felt her hug you as she looked upon you. Her nose was small and straight...feminine, to match the build of her body, and her full lips were the natural color of roses that grew wild on the hillsides. She was forever happy and walked with a slight bounce in her step, a tune under her breath, the girl that the boys favored for her outer beauty and the girls took comfort in as a friend for her compassion. There were times that Aspen envied Jennessa, but she loved her as a sister more than not.

"I'm sorry!" Aspen cried back, startling a flock of small birds from the nearby bushes causing her to jump out of her skin and break into a run. "I'm coming!"

Aspen caught up although she was panting when she reached the fork in the path. Her friend Rachel stood close with a deep scowl on her round face. Rachel was the absolute opposite of Jennessa, and how those two stayed friends was beyond Aspen's imagination. Rachel was cold, her watery blue eyes reflecting animosity, her thin lips saying nothing cheerful but always negative and her voice low. She had hair like straw that hung in thick strands even when clean and a thick build that was barely hidden by her sister's old dresses. For as much as Aspen tolerated Rachel, there was a part of her that dreaded having to spend time with her and it suddenly felt as though a cloud threatened her wonderful sunny day.

The three girls began down the path toward the castle in the heart of their quaint village in the most beautiful valleys of Elgolan...Rosehill.

"I'm sorry I am so slow, but how often is it a truly beautiful day?" Aspen said as they hurried along, kicking up dust over their slippered feet as they went.

"True enough, Aspen, however, it is a special day. We cannot be late this time. Hurry!" Jennessa prodded like a mother hen.

"I don't see why we have to go. This is all a waste of our time. Nothing will ever come of it," Rachel hissed as Aspen watched a phantom tendril of mist rise from the crest of a hill ahead of them to twist and curl until it disappeared in the sunbeams of the morning.

"You play so well, Rachel. 'Tis a shame you hate it so," Aspen said.

"Waste of time...that is all," Rachel muttered.

The three kept a brisk pace but the sound of hooves pounding the ground and cart wheels rumbling grew louder and louder somewhere behind them. Aspen turned and drew her hands around her eyes to shield them from the uncharacteristic brightness, spying a horse racing down the path, dragging a cart behind making it bounce dangerously against the deep ruts in the dirt and sending huge clouds of dust into the air.

"Do you suppose the driver is hurt? Who would dare ride so fast?" Aspen wondered aloud.

"I don't know...I can't see them very well. Just keep to ourselves and walk," Jennessa advised.

"The horse is not slowing, Jennessa, we'd better move into the grass or we will be run over," Aspen exclaimed.

The dew soaked through three pairs of worn leather slippers and drenched the mended hems of their gowns making it heavy and hard to walk quickly. Aspen inwardly cursed the horse and cart and also herself for dawdling, her own fury building with every step through the knee-deep grasses.

The horse drew closer still and they heard the driver shout his command to slow its pace, the girls keeping their faces to the ground and trudging forward hoping the man would simply pass.

"Hello!" shouted a young man's voice, the cart coming to a halt beside them. "Where are you headed?" he asked.

"We have our business in Rosehill...we are late so if you'll excuse us..." Jennessa answered and the three picked up their gowns to move more quickly away from him.

The man spied the disaster that he had created, the sopping shoes, the ragged looking gowns, the scathing look of rage from the small but quiet ball of fire. He clicked his tongue against his teeth and the horse pulled forward to keep up with the poor things. "I apologize for running you off the road here. I am going into Rosehill myself and it just so happens that I am late too. How would you girls like a ride?"

"No, thank you," Jennessa stated very curtly.

"Oh, come now. You said you were late and it would make me feel a bit better knowing I could do something nice to make up for ruining your habiliments. There is room in the back and I swear I will go slower..." he said giving a sheepish smile and jumping from his seat.

Jennessa cocked her head to the side and squinted at him through the morning sunshine as she pondered her decision. The other girls looked uncomfortably from one to the other. "We are late, and riding with you would be faster than walking with wet dresses and soggy slippers...I suppose we could accept your invitation, sir, and we all thank you for your kindness."

The boy could not believe the propriety in the girl's voice and offered her a grand smile, which, of course, sent Aspen's pulse racing. She felt light and a bit faint as she looked upon his fair hair that touched his shoulders so very straight and ruffled so easily at the slightest breeze and his eyes were as blue as the cloudless sky. His smile was wide and confident exposing white teeth and sending mirth to his eyes. He looked to be everything soft and clean...which was unusual for a boy to be clean...and yet there he was laughing with them and offering them a ride. The boy flicked his gaze from Jennessa and it fell upon Aspen and suddenly she felt so warm...almost too warm...but they had a moment that they shared in just one glance that Aspen had never before experienced. It was almost too much to bear...she had to lower her eyes to study his simple green tunic and could feel a timid smile affect her mouth as butterflies fluttered in her belly. She turned away from him to search the fields for anything but his eyes, wondering who he was...perhaps a visitor, but surely he was noble for his hands were clean and smooth, well kept. Peasant boys were accustomed to hard work and grime and roughness were evidence of their labors.

"I thank you for your words, girl, but I help you out of compassion, not kindness," he replied with the grin that Aspen found irresistible. He looked over the damage he had caused and felt a stab of guilt over the sight of three pairs of ruined slippers and wet hemlines that had attracted the dust to create mud. The gowns were very plain and not at all the fashion so he gathered these girls were common and these were probably the best dresses they owned which renewed his guilt in knowing they would catch it at home for getting them dirty.

The dark haired girl had a very pretty face and her ivory gown was a stunning contrast, the heavy girl was plain but her blue linen made her eyes stand out to him, but the red headed mouse of a girl was somehow different...so shy but she had locked her gaze with his for a moment and never had anything so exciting flood his body before. She was not noble and she was not as pretty as her friend, but there was a special aura about her that he recognized as unique, not something a person found walking on a path everyday. Her hair was the color of mahogany and shone like the sun on the water and fell to her shoulders in loose curls, her eyes were green as emeralds and so large he could lose himself in their depths if he dared look at her too long, her lips were full but held little color and still he wondered what it would be like to kiss them softly. Her skin was so light, not tanned by hours in the fields, and there was a faint dusting of sun kisses sprinkled across her nose which was not straight...and everyone knew nobles had straight noses...but if her nose didn't say she was a peasant, her short nails and calloused hands did. She looked very sweet and kind, cute...but not noble and beautiful.

He helped the first two into the bed of the cart and turned to help the mouse in too but she would not spare another glance for him. "My lady?" he asked holding out his hand to her. She very slowly let her hand out to him and he pulled her closer where they seemed to linger a time, but he could not coax her eyes to his again.

"Aspen, come now! We will be late!" Jennessa howled, breaking their spell.

The boy took Aspen beneath her arms and lifted her easily into the cart where she muttered her thanks to him. He flashed them a smile and flung himself back into his seat. With a click of his tongue they started down the path to the village, the vision of the girl, Aspen, burned into his mind...the feel of her body still on his hands...the desire to have her burning within him.

Aspen's could hear the blood pounding in her ears drowning out even the wheels of the cart, her breathing hurried, body sweating. She felt like she was dying for she could not catch her breath and every time he flooded her mind, it would start again.

Jennessa leaned close to Aspen and whispered, "One day I will marry a fine boy like him. Was he not perfect?"

Aspen could see the light in Jennessa's eyes and gave a sigh of defeat. Boys would always choose Jennessa; that was the way of it. Aspen's da had been telling her for a few years now that she would need to marry soon or she would never find a husband and would grow old and lonely. Aspen tried to put the boy out of her mind.

The village of Rosehill was alive with vendors and shoppers alike; shops and carts lined the road into the village and the buzzing of voices and the smells of baking filled the air. Women of all kinds, common and noble, were calling out their orders and gossiping amongst themselves. Men who were not in the fields were hefting seed and grain into carts for their lands. Just ahead of them, a small distance further down the road, rose the majestic Castle of Rosehill, where they were supposed to be that very moment. The white stone and turrets with roses of all colors climbing its walls created the perfect backdrop for the best village in the territory. The boy helped the girls down from the cart. He held a bit tighter to Aspen's hand before she pulled away to hurry after her friends and did not even spare a glance back at him.

"Thank you, sir!" Jennessa called back to him over the morning chaos when someone else caught her eye. "Who is _that_?" she wondered aloud and all three stopped to turn and take a peek.

A girl dressed in white walked toward the cart they'd just left. She was bedecked with knitted lace trim and a headdress of white cradled her arrogant face. Gold strings tied her gown closed so that a hint of her small bosom swelled above her bodice. A chain of gold circled her waist and hung to her knee, and her black hair was fashioned into a chignon beneath her sheer headdress. Her eyes were small but a striking blue, the color of cornflowers. She had a pinched look about her face and a constant whine in her voice as the girls listened to her.

"What do you think you are doing with those children, darling?"

"They needed a ride, Penny, it was the right thing to do so calm yourself," he answered, his gaze turned to Aspen.

"You really should be more careful who you are seen with, Rayven."

Aspen felt heat creep into her cheeks and she quickly started walking away, her friends in tow.

The trio approached the castle and the guards opened the gates to allow them in. Aspen inspected her dress and frowned deeply...she would be whipped for this one surely. If it wasn't for ruining her dress, it would be for appearing so in front of his lordship and shaming her family. She looked to Jennessa who seemed to be aware of the same predicament. They both sighed and trudged on to the huge doors of the castle where they tapped the door with the brass knocker and a woman appeared. She had a kind face that was round and her eyes a soft blue, her graying hair covered by a headdress of white and as she opened the door wider the girls saw her gown of blue that covered her plump body.

"Can I help you?" she asked the three ragged girls on her step.

"We are to have an audience for his lordship this morning and I fear we may be late already," Jennessa said. She told the story of the morning quickly and amusement immersed the woman's face.

"Well, now you can't exactly appear dressed as such, can you?" the woman said.

Three hearts sank and they let their heads fall, shoulders slumping in defeat. "No, madam," they all muttered sadly.

"I think I have a plan, but we will have to be quick now. My daughter has many gowns and I am sure we can find some to fit you girls. Come along and hurry!" the woman instructed, suspecting her own son might have caused such a tragedy. She knew he had taken the cart that morning but knew not where he had gone.

"Lady Victoria?" Jennessa breathed in shock and disbelief that a noble woman would answer her own door. She hadn't ever actually seen her ladyship closely, but how many servants had daughters with many gowns? The woman turned around and smiled a motherly smile, motioning to them to come with her.

The girls followed and Jennessa kept saying how sorry she was to have bothered her ladyship, Rachel sighing in impatience. They climbed a grand staircase and down a corridor, around a bend or two and found a young girl, not much younger than their seventeen years, dancing in the hall, humming a song...her slippers tapping on the stone floor as she danced her way along turning pirouettes and small leaps to her own music.

"Marissa..." Lady Victoria called out to the girl.

Marissa came to an abrupt halt, blushing profusely for being caught in her own merriment. "Mother?" she said with a start looking from Victoria to each one of the girls in her wake.

"I need you to find new gowns from your wardrobe for these girls. They are to play before us today and some horrid boy ruined their goods. We have no time to spare, so be quick and gather the servants to help you. I will stall your father as long as I can," Victoria instructed. She nodded her head to the girls and took her leave.

Marissa graced the girls with a grand smile. "Come with me and we shall see what we can find for you. What are your names?"

Once again, Jennessa spoke for all in her party. "My name is Jennessa, this is Aspen and Rachel. We are sorry for the trouble, really."

"No trouble at all. What boy ruined your dresses?" Marissa asked.

"Just some fool driving his cart too fast on the path who forced us into the wet grass," Jennessa said casually. "We don't know who he was."

A smile touched Marissa's mouth, for she could guess who that horrid boy was. Her brother was very good at being a bully. "How terrible! I am sure we can find something to pass."

Marissa bustled into a room near the middle of the hallway where the girls followed her. Aspen stopped in mid-stride, awed at the magnificence her eyes were seeing as she beheld the giant cherry wood bed in the center of the stone floor draped all in white lace and topped with a dainty canopy adorning the carved posts and embellished with an assortment of fluffy looking pillows. It was the most beautiful piece of furniture she had ever seen and she vowed to herself that one day she would have one of her own. A large trunk loomed tall against the wall on her right, filled with dresses that Marissa was trying to pick through. Tapestries made the dreary stone of the walls bright with color depicting scenes of happiness...a mother nurturing her baby, the famous gardens of the castle grounds, and the sunrise against the hills of the village. A long, narrow window allowed the sunshine to spill in, warming the room and rendering the large-mouthed fireplace next to them useless for the daylight hours. Servants filed in between the girls and stood ready to assist as Marissa emerged from the wardrobe, her face alight with excitement as she carefully laid three dresses atop her bed. She motioned to a dress of stunning rose pink silk.

"I chose this one for Jennesa. Janae will help you dress."

Janae stepped forward and bobbed a curtsy taking the dress in her arms and beckoning Jennessa forward.

"I think this one will fit you, Rachel. Maisy?"

A small woman gathered the yellow mass of fabric and Rachel followed to get herself changed.

The only gown left was a shimmering soft green trimmed in deep green velvet. "This one is for you, Aspen. I think you will look glorious in it! Sarah will help you as I fetch your slippers," Marissa said handing over the gown.

"I-I cannot wear this...it is too fine a gown for me," Aspen countered and tried to hand it back.

"I have so many I barely wear them all. Please take it for I don't want it, but I want you to have it for you will appreciate it," Marissa spared a smile, then spun and left Aspen and Sarah feeling awkward.

Finally, Sarah walked behind Aspen and began to loosen the ties of the rag that was hanging on her small body. Aspen pulled away, not being accustomed to having someone taking her clothes off.

"'Tis alright, miss, I'll not hurt you. Ye need to get dressed, ye do, so let's get it done," Sarah said warmly to help Aspen relax.

Aspen gave in and allowed the servant to continue. In no time at all she was twirling in circles watching her skirts flare and savoring the feel of the satin against her skin, making her wish she had a whole trunk full of such habiliments. The bodice was cut low, but modestly so; the dark velvet was a stunning contrast against her fair skin. The sleeves were tightly following the contours of her arms trimmed in velvet at her wrists, it had a dark green underskirt complimented with a light green overskirt embellished with golden threads. She felt marvelously fetching, like a princess who had once been a toad, and she hoped it would never fade. Sarah came at her tangles with a brush and Aspen's eyes lit up for she loved to have her mama brush her hair till it was soft and shiny...something that did not happen much anymore since she had grown into her woman's body.

Jennessa and Rachel reappeared in their fine gowns, smiles fixed upon their faces feeling proud to perform for the Earl St. Michael and his family. Marissa smiled in satisfaction as she distributed the slippers to each girl.

"We had best get to the music room...I am sure father is waiting by now."

Aspen was waiting for Jennessa to express their gratitude and when she made no move, Aspen reached out her hand catching Marissa's arm as she was to lead them out. "Thank you, Marissa, you don't know what this means to us and we will not forget you."

Marissa opened her arms and gave Aspen a squeeze to validate the thanks and the four of them were off.

The music room was as beautiful as the rest of the grand castle, the door open and a warm fire beckoning them inside. The girls were overwhelmed walking in to find a large window filling the wall to their right, looking out onto the immaculate gardens, the famous lush and green grounds full of flowers of all kinds and pools of water. Sofas lined the wall to their left, upholstered in fine fabrics and carved from the most extravagant wood...tapestries floated as they passed by, the shiny round table in the center of the room grabbing Aspen's gaze so that she could not resist the temptation to touch it. It was cold and slick to her fingers and she began to covet the fine belongings that she could only wish for. She knew coveting was a sin, but she found she could not help herself.

The girls knew that the three chairs that sat empty before the window were meant for them since their harps stood before them silent and waiting.

"Ah, my entertainment has arrived!" boomed a loud man, scaring the wits out of the trio, who knew him as the Earl St. Michael. They all managed an awkward curtsy that seemed to please the man and he gestured them to sit. "Please have a seat, ladies, my family will be along shortly. Ah! Mr. Noteworthy! What a group you have brought me. They are certainly beautiful...let us see if their music matches their sweet faces, shall we?" he said shaking the hand of the music instructor and turning an eye to look the girls over. The earl seemed to wear a permanent smile and masked his eyes accordingly so that one could never tell how the man really felt. He had cold blue eyes that struck Aspen as being familiar but critical, white hair that was tied neatly at his nape, a clean-shaven chin that exposed a slight cleft. He walked before the girls with his hands clasped behind his back and gave a pause and a long stare at Aspen before he moved on, hardly sparing a glance for Rachel before taking a seat on a sofa.

Mr. Noteworthy smiled in disbelief when his eyes touched upon his pupils, once plain common maids of the village now beautiful young women. Nervously, he rolled his right eyebrow between his thumb and index finger and took a chair by the fire. The girls looked to him and he smiled his encouragement. "I know you are ready," he said softly to them.

Lady Victoria entered the room looking fresh and very pleased with herself and found a seat beside her husband, smiling radiantly at the girls.

Marissa entered, arm linked with another girl close to her own age. She whispered something to the other girl and they both grinned and sat most properly. Aspen pulled her harp to her shoulder, positioning it correctly when she heard a familiar voice reach her ears. Her head snapped up and there he was, the boy...minus the cart. He had two young boys by the scruff of their necks when he saw her and froze, staring in confusion at the girls from his morning drive. A sudden wave of guilt came over him as he realized they had been coming to see his family and he had ruined their clothing and now they were dressed in his sister's gowns, no doubt a gift from his mother who he would receive a sound lashing from later. He could feel the warmth reach his face and the tips of his ears began to burn in embarrassment.

"Rayven! Take a seat son, so we may begin!" his father chided.

The two younger boys were giggling and playfully punching each other until a harsh reprimand from their father motivated them to sit still and watched lazily as the girls began to prepare their instruments.

Aspen took a deep breath but found she could not think and felt strangely out of sorts with the boy watching her...she could not bear it if she made a mistake and he laughed at her or worse, pitied her. She bowed her head and concentrated on tuning her harp with the others. Rayven. His name reverberated within her head, a beautiful name for a beautiful boy.

Jennessa began the tune in solo, Rachel joined at the chorus, and they all played as a round for several measures bringing joy to their teacher, as the piece was special to him, having written it himself. It was titled "Waterfalls" and his students could not have played it more perfectly. The notes tumbled through the air like the crystal waters that slid over the rocks, filling the audience with a sweet sentiment and a longing to have the music continue forever, then crashed at the end as the water thunders into the pool beneath and the notes floated away into the sunlight as the mist drifts over the explosion of rushing waters meeting the stillness below.

The family sat speechless until at last, Rayven began to clap, breaking the spell that the music had spun around his family who joined in suit, Lady Victoria placing a hand upon her heaving bosom while Wilford St. Michael stood beaming.

"That was the best piece of music my ears have ever heard, ladies! Thank you ever so much for your talent!" he commended.

Jennessa stood and curtsied gracefully, full of confidence. "It would not be possible without your graciousness, my lord. Thank you for this opportunity."

"You can be sure that I will call on you more often to play for me and the public!" he exclaimed kissing each young hand in turn.

Lady Victoria hurried to his side. "You nearly brought me to tears, that was so beautiful! You must stay for the midday meal...you will, will you not? It is the least we can do to show our enthusiasm."

The girls looked to each other and Jennessa shook her head. "We must decline your invitation today, my lady. We are needed in our homes this afternoon...thank you."

The couple drew back as if insulted. "Well, if that is what you wish, we will have you again...your families must be very proud of you," Lady Victoria answered with a tinge of hurt in her voice.

Wilford St. Michael excused himself and Aspen whispered to Victoria, "I need my dress back, my lady."

"We replaced your old dress, child. Go home and explain that it was a small reward for a fine performance," she answered.

"Beg pardon, my lady, but I really need my old one back. One can never have too many gowns, can she?"

A smile formed at the corners of Victoria's mouth. "I suppose, dear, I shall see if I can find it. Be comfortable on the sofas as you wait." She turned to stop a servant and questioned him, then disappeared.

Aspen sat stiffly on a sofa feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle and the feeling that eyes were upon her was undeniable. She chanced a glance around the room at the remaining people and found Rayven staring at her, so she flashed him a shy grin and returned to studying her gown. She picked away at invisible flaws as she chastised herself for being so odd. Why could she not just look him in the eyes and smile? What was so wrong with her that she could not go talk to him?

Lady Victoria rushed back in with three wrapped packages and distributed them to the three girls stopping a moment as she handed Aspen's over. "Here are your clothes, dear. Thank you again for playing for us today...I know you impressed my husband." She turned to her son still sitting on the other sofa. "Rayven, the meal is about to be served so you had better join the others."

"I will be right there, mother," he reassured as she left the room once again. He stood and moved to Aspen, taking a seat beside her. "I want to apologize for this morning...I didn't see you and your friends until I was upon you. Please tell me you forgive me," he said taking her hand and pressing it to his lips.

The liquid blue of his eyes penetrated hers, making her feel she would surely suffocate if he didn't let her go and she would cease to exist. It seemed that time had stopped, that they were alone in the moment and nothing mattered but gaining his approval. She suddenly felt that although the difference in stations made it difficult, she would be his one day.

"It never happened," Aspen whispered and vowed never to wash her hand again. She forced herself to pull her hand from him and rose from the sofa to take her leave since her family would be missing her help with chores at home. How she longed to stay with him, to eat a meal with him, but she knew also that she would have a difficult time explaining about the dress as well as her tardiness.

He watched her go out his door, not sure if he would ever see her again. He, of course, wanted to see her again, but he was set to depart to work with their soldiers to coordinate an uprising against a man who was more heartless than any man he had ever heard of, much less known. After his duty he would return to his father and then find and marry this beautiful girl.

He envisioned himself snug and happy inside his castle, seated in a comfortable chair and stretching his legs before the fire in the library, the sounds of his children running throughout the hallways filling his ears. His wife, Aspen, great with his child, inquiring of his day, and taking his hand to lead him to bed. Rayven shook his head free of the visions and forced himself to return to the present...what a time to be distracted! He wanted to be married and have children, but not yet. As the heir to his father's rule and fortune, he had been taught all his life that he would need to produce an heir of his own to one day succeed him, but there would be a tine for that...lots of time.

The sun was beginning to sink lower into the sky as the girls left the village- they walked briskly, knowing full well they were late. Soon, they came to a stand of trees heavy with foliage where Aspen stopped and explored a thought.

"I am going to change here," she announced.

"Why in the world would you do that?" Jennessa asked wondering what was so wrong with Aspen that she preferred to wear her dirty gown and not her new one.

"I cannot go home in this, my father will feel humiliated...like he cannot provide me with suitable clothing. I want him to think it was a gift I was given after I performed."

"Just tell him you could not wait to wear it so you changed for the walk home. What is wrong with that?" Rachel wondered.

"You don't understand. If I do that I will appear greedy. I need to do what I know will make him happy. If I come home with a package, he cannot make me return it...if I wear it home I will be branded either a thief or a beggar. Either way, I do not wish to be whipped tonight. I just want him to feel proud of me for once. Wait for me?"

Her friends nodded their affirmation and Aspen ducked into the leaves. It wasn't long and she emerged looking plain and poor once again, the rough fabric scratching her skin and the hem stiff from the water and the dirt. She knew she was going to need to find some water on her way home to rinse out the mud or she would catch it for ruining her dress as well.

The friends said their farewells at the fork in the path and each went their own way to their hovels they called home. Aspen left the path and found the stream that ran close to her shack. She waded in the icy water to wash her slippers and dress, glancing back to make sure she was alone, for she had set her prize on the bank. She stepped again and her foot found a mossy rock. Her footing faltered, and down into the frigid waters she fell landing solidly on her rear in the mud. A small shriek escaped her lungs before the air was knocked from her for what seemed an eternity. The shock of the cold water was enough to keep her from being able to breath in again and she quickly jumped from the water shivering like a wet dog. She snatched up her bundle and ran the rest of the way home to get warm.

Her mother was collecting the laundry when she spied her daughter running, soaked to the bone. A sigh escaped her and she hefted the tub into the house where she deftly found a blanket and set it to warm by the fire. She turned when she heard the door open, hands on her hips, lips pursed, and beheld Aspen shaking like the day she was born. Her daughter's lips were blue and she clutched a ball of fabric to her chest as if it was keeping her warm A smile touched Lyndsay's lips and she could not hold back the bubble of laughter that burst forth before she knew what came over her.

"I don't know what happened to ya, but ya look a sight, girl!" she laughed.

"I f-fell in the s-stream on a-accident. I am s-sorry," she managed between clacking teeth.

"Well, better get ya out of that dress 'fore ya catch yer death. Come on, strip!"

Aspen did as she was bid and sat her gift on the table near the fire, letting the laces of her dress fall from her slim frame to the rushes on the floor. Her mother wrapped her in the warmed blanket and had her sit for a cup of hot tea.

The blanket felt heavenly against her freezing skin and she fought an overwhelming urge to hop into the flames to get warm. Lyndsay returned with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, which Aspen snatched up eagerly in her cold hands. She took a quick sip and set it back on the table to cool, trying to avoid her mother's gaze by glancing around her familiar home. The shack was one room, the roof thatched, the dirt floor covered in rushes...so different from the luxury of the castle. The walls were constructed of wood, though one could see daylight through the cracks between the boards, two windows equipped with shutters adorned the front of the house...one on either side of the door that barely hung from its hinges. Walking in the door, the fireplace stood to the left against the far wall where the meager table and five chairs sat nearby; the iron pot hung in the blazing fire containing that night's meal. A low, long chest that stored the few cups and utensils they possessed stood at the rear of the house near the fire as well, leaving the other half of the structure for sleeping. A small straw tick slumped against the floor that her parents shared, five chests lined the right hand wall containing each family member's belongings and bedrolls. Each morning they were required to neatly fold and store away their bedding to make more room for the day. She knew that her brother and sister did not mind the sleeping arrangements, but Aspen had seen the way other people lived and longed for a warm, soft bed in a room of her own.

"How was yer performance, Aspen?" her mother asked, drumming her fingers on the scarred surface of the table.

"It went well, mama. The earl was pleased; I guess that was what we hoped for, right?"

Her mother's eyes grew dark and distant. "That is all anyone hopes for, I s'pose."

Aspen's thoughts wandered back to Rayven and she let her chin fall absently into the palm of her hand. A small grin found its way to her lips and her eyes went unstaring as the day replayed in her mind. How she would love for a man to rescue her from this place, how wonderful it would be to see Rayven come here to call on her.

"Ye look like a drowned rat!" a deep voice boomed pulling her from her thoughts to stare in fear at her father, Vatric.

Immediately she sat upright, nearly losing her blanket, and dropping her eyes from his angry face as shivers overcame her body. Her father was not a big man, but he was so strong...memories of beatings flooded her mind knowing she had been hurt before for less than what she had done today. He eyed her dress hanging by the fire, he studied he wet hair hanging in clumps on the blanket. She tried hard to retreat into herself and found she could not as she tried to control her fear. Vatric's breathing came at her fast and heavy and Aspen knew he was gearing up for something bad. Her eyes flew to his and she saw his gray eye turn to black in animosity, his lips pursed into a hard line turning his skin around them white, he clenched and unclenched his fists which were weathered by his hard work in the fields, his black hair stood wildly from being in the breeze all day. He looked crazy when he was angry and Aspen bit her tongue to keep from crying already since she had tried so hard to keep this from happening, inwardly preparing for the blows that were sure to follow.

"What in God's name did ya do?" he demanded.

Aspen dropped her gaze to the floor and took a deep breath trying to bury the tears that threatened her. "I-I fell into the stream, Da," she almost whispered.

"And how did ya manage such a stupid mistake?"

The tears pricked her eyes even when she willed them away and she pulled the blanket closer to her absently wiping at her face to clear them from his view. She cleared her throat and lied. "I was walking h-home from the audience at the castle and was the-thirsty, so I w-went to the s-stream. I-I put my hand on a rock and it g-gave way and I tumbled in...I am sorry, Da. I really am!" she nearly pleaded with him with her voice.

"Ya know, don't ya, that had ya been doin' yer chores, you'd have water to drink? Why was ya so late, girl...tell me another good tale!"

"I-I was performing for his lordship and his family!" she defended herself. "They wanted us to stay for the midday with them but we refused...I knew I was needed here!"

"Don't ya give me that bunk! Why would his lordship invite a worm like you to their fancy, rich meal?" he chided.

Anger boiled within her as the glamour of the day slowly melted away. "I-I don't know, but he did! And he like my playing too!" she bit her lips as soon as the words were out, knowing she had gone too far. Her mother rose from the table and pretended to go fetch some clean water for the washing basin beside the door.

The rage visibly built inside of him and he exploded in a yelp of fury. He flung his fist, which connected squarely with her back, the force knocking her from her chair where she curled into a ball on the floor where he continued kicking her small body time and again. She bore the pain until his boot caught her in the side, forcing a cry from her, the blanket falling aside to expose her naked, youthful body now covered in many nasty bruises. Humiliated in front of her father, the tears broke through their barrier and flowed freely accompanied by choking sobs that she could no longer hold back. Vatric found the cloth bundle and opened it up.

"I think ya must have performed quite well for the noble family today and I think ye were bathing the filth off of ya in the stream! Is this yer reward for yer services since ye did so well? Huh? Well, I'm thinking it will make some pretty new curtains for yer mama to hang in the windows, don't ya think?" Before she could respond, he had taken his knife from his belt and sliced the gown in two. He knelt down on the ground beside her. "I will not have ya takin' payments like a whore...even if ye may be one!" And with that he rose and kicked her once again, dropping the tattered dress to the floor next to her. She heard his footfalls get further away and waited for the door to open and close, sobbing harder and harder until she grew hoarse with grief. She finally managed to pick herself up and hobble to her trunk to find a new dress to wear, deciding on her nightdress and slipping it on and picking up the pieces of her gift. How dare he destroy a gift from the earl! If it came to be public knowledge that the dress was seen hanging in their windows, her father would feel the wrath of the earl. A wry smile crossed her face and she knew one day, she would have her revenge...the earl's dungeon would suit him well!

Her father did not return for the evening meal and her mother had no idea where he had gone. Worry etched her features and resentment filled Aspen's stomach wondering silently how anyone could care for a man who hurt her children? Her brother Kendric and her sister Monica sat silently across from her. No one asked why she wore her nightdress; they seemed to understand without words. They all sat afraid to utter a word, like the silence was keeping their father away and if one sound was heard, it would bring him back into their lives.

They heard the thunder of hooves and tired, heavy breathing of the beast, the barn door slammed some time later and they knew he was home. Dread filled four hearts and any visions of him lying dead beside the road floated away into the night. He reappeared in the doorway and washed his hands that stung from his vigorous hold of the reins on his horse. He strode to the table where his family was already eating.

"Ya wait for the master to join ya fer dinner, wife," he growled taking his seat.

Lyndsay quickly fixed him a trencher of stew and set it before him. "I am sorry, darling...the children-" she began to explain.

"The children nothing! No one here can be any more hungry than me, so I should get to eat the first bite...everyday, every meal! Now that we understand that, get me more bread!" he snarled.

Lyndsay scurried and returned with an extra hunk of bread and a cup of ale. Her father grunted his satisfaction and dug into his meal. The rest of the family resumed eating and the pace of the hearts at the table slowed...for the moment.

Aspen helped to clean the table free of the meal and cleaned out the pot used for cooking. Immediately, her mother began to warm water for Vatric to bathe himself in. They carried the wooden basin they used and poured the hot water inside. Aspen threw blankets around her siblings and ushered them out into the cold of the spring evening so he had his privacy. They heard their mother shriek and her father's growl and Aspen feared for her mother. They heard her mother's pleas to stop and he laughed at her. Aspen stole a peek through a knothole in the wall and saw him pull her mother's skirts up around her waist pushing her onto their bed. He moved roughly atop her and Aspen could see the tears rolling down her mother's cheeks. He moved faster and faster, her mother crying out in pain so Vatric covered her mouth with his hand. When he had finished, he plunged himself into his bath, looking very satisfied. She turned away and pulled her siblings closer to her to keep warm.

Softly she whispered into the darkness, "Kendric, if something happens to me, and Da treats you badly, promise me you will take Monica and leave here. You are strong and could find work; please leave and find a better life."

His eyes wide and haunted, he nodded. "I promise. Why don't we all go now? We have the chance, let's go now," he begged.

Aspen thought a moment and shook her head. "I cannot leave mama, and she won't go. I am the one he hates, but if he ki--if something happens and I am not here to take it, he will turn on you or Monica. I want to know that you will take her and take care of her for I know you are nearly a man and would be good to her."

Sadness filled his blue eyes and he dropped his head. "I hate him," he muttered. "And I hate her for letting him beat you." He raised his head and a tear escaped and floated down his thin face. Aspen ruffled his hair playfully and kissed his cheek.

"I love you to heaven and back, always," she choked out, her voice thick with sentiment.

Monica threw herself into Aspen's arms, the tears falling from her eyes as well, the three of them holding to each other tightly...the love between them binding them together forever.

### Chapter 2

The birds seemed to be chirping more loudly this morning to Aspen. She rolled over in her bed and the crunch of gravel beneath her hands woke her immediately. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared in shock that she, Kendric and Monica were still outside. It was daylight and they had slept in the dirt like animals all night! She nudged her brother and sister awake just as her father strode outside. He was foul and she hated him more than anything, with all of her soul. She would make sure he would pay.

"Kendric, I need yer help in the barn this mornin', boy. And Aspen, get yerself dressed and ready for the day. Monica, see what yer Mama needs help with."

The three rose and Aspen stumbled, her muscles horribly sore from her one-sided battle the day before. Kendric reached out to steady her.

"Now, boy!"

"Be ready to go tonight, Aspen. We need to go this night," he whispered.

Aspen nodded her agreement and limped into the house to get dressed. Kendric disappeared into the barn and Monica assisted Lyndsay with the morning meal. Aspen glanced at her mother and saw the circles under her eyes and the splotches of red on her face. Her hair was a tangled mess of blonde and she wore her best dress. She could tell she had been crying...probably all night. Why wouldn't she leave? Aspen wanted to beg her and shake some sense into her, but knew it would do no good. She removed her nightdress and began to don her dress from the day before. It was laid out on her trunk, dry and clean. She heard a gasp from behind her and turned to see her mother white in the face staring at her, seeing the evidence of the abuse left behind on Aspen's small body. Aspen said not a word and continued dressing.

She was pulling a brush through her hair when she heard a cart and horse pull up to the house. She stepped curiously to the window to see who it was. A carriage sat out in the front of her house, a large black beast of a vehicle with a red crest emblazoned next to the window, the black-as-sin horses stamping their hooves in the dust, chomping at their bit in protest of their halt.

Aspen jumped as her mother came up behind her and touched her shoulder. Snapping her head back to stare directly into the saddest sapphire eyes she had ever seen, anger boiled inside. Her mother took the brush from her hand and beckoned to her to sit at the table, which she did reluctantly.

"Ya know, Aspen, when I saw ya yesterday shaking with the cold, ye reminded me of the morning ya were born. All purple and shivering, quakin' like an Aspen tree's leaves in the wind. Ye were Aspen to me ever since. I love ye girl, never forget that."

Aspen rounded on her, the brush only half through her hair. "Why don't you leave him and save us all, Mama?" she asked.

""Cause if'n I did, he'd find us and kill us all," she whispered. "I canna have that."

"So, you'd rather he beat me and hurt you every day. You know what I think? I think I would rather have one day to feel free of him than live my life afraid to sneeze! Why does he hate me so? I don't understand, Mama."

Lyndsay sighed heavily, then went on. "When I was first married to your Da, he was not like this at all. Wilford St. Michael was not always our earl, but his Da was. He came out to visit and offer us his congrats on getting' married and yer Da was in the fields. As Wilford was taking his leave, he took my hand and kissed the back of it, just bein' kind. Yer Da came in for the midday and saw him. He was angry and I was already pregnant with ya so he accused me of bein' unfaithful ta him. He was not even here when you was born. I birthed ya meself." Her voice shook at the memory and she fought to keep the tears at bay.

Aspen's eyes were moist at the shock of the revelation. Her mother took her face in her hands and the tears welled in her eyes and ultimately won their battle to trace a course down her weathered face that at one time was so fetching. Her mother bent and kissed her lips. Aspen could bear no more and rose from her seat to wrap her arms around this woman she never really knew.

They hugged for some time and Aspen whispered in her mother's ear, "Let us all leave tonight. The earl can offer us asylum and he would never know. If the earl cared for you once, he will again. Please..."

"'Tis not going to be possible," she choked out.

Aspen pulled back and studied her mother for answers, but found none. "Why?"

Vatric burst in to interrupt any further explanation. "Ye look presentable enough," he muttered and opened the door wider. A figure filled the doorway, but Aspen could not place him. He had black hair that fell to his shoulders, straight as straw, eyes that were nearly as dark. His skin was tanned and his lips were full. He wore black leather breeches and vest, with a full-sleeved tunic of red silk beneath. His boots were black as well and fit his legs to his knees, and a cloak of heavy black velvet lined with red satin draped his wide shoulders and hung to the ground, a shining black cane in one gloved hand. Aspen stared wide-eyed at the stranger who looked to be the devil himself and then her gaze darted questioningly to her father who stood with an evil smirk on his face. The stranger stepped fully into the shack and walked to stand in front of Aspen, surveying her from head to toe. Aspen noticed a limp as he came to her and wondered why such a strong man would hobble so. The man turned to Vatric, a smile playing upon his mouth. His voice was soft and smooth as a sword's blade.

"She shall do. I see much potential in her," he remarked to her father as if she was an unwanted cow he was willing to take off of his hands. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Vatric stared at Aspen, a savage hate burned in his steel eyes. ""Tis past time we kick ye from the nest, girl. I guess we'll see if ye fall or fly, won't we?"

Aspen's lungs clamped shut and she couldn't breathe. Her heart slammed against her ribs in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. She had no dowry, no worldly possessions, and this man looked to be noble. What did he want with her?

As if reading her mind, he took a pouch from his belt, shook it enough to jingle the coin inside and tossed it to her father. Vatric beamed when the pouch landed in his hand. Aspen's face drained of all color and understanding dawned within.

"Ye want to act the harlot, I'll sell ye like one. Ye be nice to the man and he shall make sure yer family is cared for. I got nothin' more to say to ya," he announced and stormed from the house, the gold tinkling on his belt.

Aspen spun to her mother who was still streaming silent tears of anguish. She hugged her daughter once again and whispered into her ear, "This is yer chance. Make something of yerself and come and get us," she pleaded.

Despair washed over her and things began to grow dark. Sensing her swoon, the man pulled a chair to her and sat her down. She had been betrayed so many times by her Da, but this was the ultimate of all treachery. He was selling her to this man! Was she to be a maid? Perhaps to his wife or the cook? There were so many questions, but she could not find her words. Her tongue seemed as heavy as stone in her mouth which had suddenly gone dry with dread. Kendric! Monica! What would they do without her? She raised her gaze to her mother.

"I want to say good-bye to my brother and sister," she said cold as a glacier.

Her mother's hands worked her skirts, rolling and unrolling the fabric between her fingers. She drew a deep breath. "Yer Da saw to it that they made a delivery to the village. They'll not be back until sunset, child. He thought it would be best."

Anger grew and boiled hotter and hotter until it leaked forth like steam in a covered pot. "Best?" she screamed. "How can he know what is best for anyone when he cares naught for anything but himself! My brother and sister are all I have in the world! And you," she stood and started toward her mother with nothing but loathing in her heart. "You let him do this to us! I hate you for staying when you knew he-- he does this to me!" She drew her dress off of her shoulder to expose a lump of purple, pinks and black on her arm. Her mother flinched. "I suppose you thought it would always heal, right? Well, it may to those who have to look upon me, but in here," she clutched at her bodice to cover her heart, "in here, it will always be like an open wound that will never heal. I will have to live with this pain and this hurt forever, and all because of you!"

Her mother turned from her and sobbed, sinking to her bed on the floor. Aspen's heart twisted inside of her at what she had done, but turned around to face the man in her house. Her chin rose a notch and her stare was icy and unkind.

"Spirited wench, aren't you?" he smiled. "Yes, you will suit me fine." He nearly chuckled at her, which stoked the fire burning in her belly. "Let's go, girl," he ordered.

"My things, sir."

He did laugh out loud. "What 'things' can a girl like you possess?"

"I may be poor, but I have things that are special to me. I am asking to bring them. Please."

The man thought a moment and nodded his head. "Be quick about it then. I shall await you in my carriage. But if you decide to run, it will go much worse for you. My dungeon is not the place for a young lady," he warned.

Aspen nodded and knelt at her chest that contained what little evidence she had of her life. She rummaged through and retrieved two gold coins she had earned some time ago. She was saving to take them away, but in thinking of their conversation the night before, she slipped the coins into her brother's chest. She closed her own and hefted it to her waist and made her way to the door. She glanced back at her mother who was still shedding her grief.

"You may as well have sold your soul to the devil, Mother. He may have been more kind," she called over her shoulder. Then she opened the door and slipped into the mist.

The carriage driver jumped to the ground, grabbed the trunk from her, and secured it to the back. He opened the door and helped her up into her seat.

She managed a small smile. "Thank you," she said.

Her eyes found the man seated across from her. He tapped his cane on the roof and the carriage lurched forward. Aspen was still in such shock at how her life was so simple and uneventful until yesterday. She could feel onyx eyes searing through her to her soul so she stiffened her back and tipped her chin until she could not see him, focusing instead on a crest on the inside wall. It consisted of a black dragon spitting flames of red and orange- a crescent moon in one corner, a blazing sun in the other. Two swords met point to point at the bottom, the hilt of one was intricately designed and the other was plain red. Aspen wondered about its meaning, for she knew crests told some story of the family history or an important event that made the family what it was. She thought of her own and how it would be constructed. How do you picture treachery and hate? How can you show bitterness and betrayal? She pictured a cold steel that matched her father's eyes and the strength of his blows, but she could think of nothing more than a dagger piercing his heart. One day he would regret what he did.

"Come now, lass. We are to be together for quite some time. You may decide you want to be nice to me. Especially if you want your family to thrive."

She looked down upon him. "Sir, if you want me to be nice to you, never speak of my mother or father again."

He contemplated her words and fingered the dragon on the top of his cane. "I should slap you for speaking so rudely to me. I am not a sir, I am a lord. You will address me as such, Aspen," he sneered at her name as if it made him sick to say it. Aspen had always loved her given name until it tumbled forth from this man's tongue.

"My lord," she sneered back, "Despite what you might think, I am a lady and you can address me as such," she retorted.

He laughed long and loud, wiping his eyes before he could go on.

"You, my little mouse, are nothing like a lady and you are in no position to make any demands of me. You are to be the focus of my pleasures and nothing more. Be wise to remember that."

Aspen fought the urge to throw up in his fine carriage. Her hands shook and sweat beaded on her brow. Instinctively she clasped her hands together in her lap

"Even though you are to be my mistress, you will have full roam of my castle and the grounds. I will clothe you perfectly and feed you well. I have no need for a bastard running around, so watch yourself because I will stop at nothing to keep that from happening. I will never marry you, so I hope you never expect that of me," he explained.

"What of your wife and family?"

He snorted in bitter annoyance. "I have no wife, no children and I do not want that in my life."

"You must be lonely."

"Would you rather live as you were, being beaten and cursed every day, or would you rather live for yourself and experience all those things denied you by your status?"

Aspen cocked her head to one side. "The only things I will miss are my siblings. They have been left behind with no one to protect them. My fa-- I know he will hurt them." She was embarrassed by her show of emotion and quickly replaced her guard. The fire blazed once again in the emeralds of her eyes.

Thorne saw that and knew he could lose himself in their depths. She was not a common girl, but had the strength and the will of a noble lady. She could be very, very useful to him and he would enjoy shaping her to his hand. Her anger would supply some fuel for his crusade.

"Tell me of your life, Aspen. I want to know everything about you," he grinned and hoped his gesture would dispel her fire. His body responded to her roughened beauty, her peasant's look. He longed to sink his fingers into her tangled hair and tear the tattered fabric from her small frame. But even more than that, this girl had lived her life in the village of a man he despised. He was interested in what information she might offer him.

"My lord, there is nothing to tell. My life was what you saw at my home."

"I think there is much to tell. You are educated. You speak intelligently and proper. You walk with elegance and pride. I want to know why."

"Earl St. Michael wanted all children educated in our village. He saw us as his future tenants and wanted smart ones rather than stupid, angry farmers."

Thorne stroked his chin thoughtfully. "How interesting. I had never heard of such a concept. Mayhap I will appoint you my village teacher."

"My lord, I am an unfit teacher of children. How can I demand respect when I am their Lord's mistress?" she hissed.

"About that, you will be introduced to my public as my betrothed. No one can say a thing if they think you are to be wed to me."

"I do not wish to be a teacher, my lord. Nor do I wish to be your betrothed."

"You may not wish some things, my lady, but there are things you will do. If I say it, you will do it. Are we clear?"

"Yes, my lord."

"What else of your life? It sounds like you had so much to do. What of the dress the earl gave to you yesterday?" he prodded, having heard the rantings of this girl's father when Vatric had arrived at his castle late in the afternoon the day before.

Aspen moved her gaze to the countryside beyond her window. "The dress was nothing. I ruined my rag of a gown on my way to a performance, a musical performance, for the earl and his family. Her ladyship saw me and offered to find a gown of her daughter's. I thought it was but a loan on my own carelessness, but after I played my harp it was given as a token of appreciation."

Thorne's brows rose in surprise. "The harp you say? You are fast becoming more interesting than I had bargained for. What else do you play? Men, for instance...how well can you play with me?" he growled.

Aspen's head snapped around to pierce him with the most loathsome of looks, invisible daggers driving into his body. "I am proficient in the mandolin and the flute as well, My Lord. As far as you are concerned, you will never have me willingly. I am quite ignorant on that subject anyway."

"So you claim to be pure?" he asked, almost shocked.

"I do not know what you were told of me, my lord, but I am a virgin. I have never even been kissed," she proclaimed coldly.

"We shall see, my lady."

Impatience spilled forth and claimed her tongue. "Why do you call me that? You just said you would never call me that," she spat.

"I do not recall those exact words, dearest. I said you were not a lady and you could not demand anything from me. I suppose I call you that to thwart your pride. It worked, did it not?"

She snorted back at him and crossed her arms in front of her stubbornly. Despite her anger, she felt alive and invigorated. She felt she could take her aggressions out on this nameless man. There was nothing he could do make her any more miserable than she was at her home. She no longer felt fear, only a growing strength that would drive her on until she won the sick game her father began.

Thorne studied her silently, marveling at her will to win the verbal battles between them. She amused him, but he knew she could push him too far. He needed the upper hand and not she.

"What is your name?" she broke the silence, still not looking at him.

"I am Thorne. Thorne Darktower. I am the Earl of Cliffehaven."

"You?" she clarified in disbelief. A laugh escaped her. "So, that is where I will be your slave?"

"Does the lifestyle sound that way?" He feigned a pain in his heart. "I will cater to your every need. You will be at my service. I will worship you."

"I would be a fool to believe that."

She met his black eyes unflinchingly. He itched to reach out and strike her down, but he took control and smiled when he thought of the fun he would have with her.

"We are almost there," he stated between his teeth.

Victory soared through her. She had bested him that time. She knew he was angry, but she did not care. What she had said was the honest truth. He was probably upset because of the truth that was evident in her words.

She slid over in her seat to take in her new surroundings. It was cloudy and the heavens threatened rain, the sweet smell of the moist earth mixed with the brine of the ocean invaded her senses. She could see homes in the distance that seemed to be in worse shape than her own. Many appeared to be little more than tents. A magnificent castle appeared on the horizon, its many turrets and battlements reaching into the sky. An eerie mist shrouded its pointed tops like the hands of a spirit trying to lift it away. An evil feeling pricked at the back of her neck and she shivered to shake it off. Suddenly, Thorne was next to her.

"Welcome home, my lady," he whispered in her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat and apprehension strangled her.

"Thank you, my lord," she managed.

The carriage pulled into the courtyard and came to a halt in front of the massive wooden doors to the keep. Thorne stepped down first, carefully avoiding his right leg and held out his hand to help Aspen down. The thought of touching him repulsed her, but she was too nervous to make it to the ground safely alone. She was afraid her knees would give out, but Thorne slipped his hand around her waist to steady her. Once her feet connected with the ground, she righted herself and waved him away.

_Lord! She was obstinate!_ Thorne nearly growled out loud. Just a few hours ago, he never would have guessed her to be so. Yet, here she was, acting as though she were walking into the Lion's Den, as a Roman soldier holding their composure as they faced the terrors ahead. He admired her courage and marveled at her gall. She was quick, he'd give her that too.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side.

"My lady, the staff will wonder at my betrothed's etiquette if you do not accept my hand of assistance. Place your hand atop mine, like this." He loved the feel of her softness; though her skin was roughened, Aspen felt glorious against him. He could barely wait to explore the rest of her...but first to pamper her. This girl would need a bit of wooing, he thought.

They made their way up the stone steps and a man, a very old man, opened one of the mighty doors of oak wherein the same crest was carved and shiny brass handles adorned the front of each. The old man stood tall and puffed out his chest in an attempt to impress Aspen. She smiled at him and he simply stared at her, the life gone from his eyes, his face wrinkled and his head bald. He was tall, but very thin and gaunt, though having watched him open the enormous doors to the castle, he was stronger than Aspen would have guessed. Thorne paid him no attention and kept walking into his home.

A slim woman stood at the bottom of the grand stone staircase a few paces away. She seemed to brighten as Aspen neared her.

"I take it all is in order, Mary," Thorne demanded.

The woman bobbed a curtsy. "Yes, m'lord. Her quarters are ready for her," she replied, curiously eyeing the thin girl before her wearing naught but a dirty rag on her body.

Thorne nodded and turned to take her hands in his. "Aspen, this is Mary. She is your personal maid. I am paying her well, so keep her busy. I think you would like to relax in a warm bath. Mary will take you to your room and help you ready yourself for the evening meal. I am sure you are starved."

A bath! She barely heard anything else. She had her own room and her own bath! She nodded, not looking at him, and pulled her hands from his. She flashed her maid a smile and started up the stairs. Mary hurried past her, surprised at her kindness and led her down a hallway and then another and finally stopped at a door.

"Yer room, m'lady," she curtsied and opened the door.

Aspen felt a surge of power overwhelm her. She had respect and position here and felt that she could bear anything to go on feeling this important. But, what if the staff was in on his scheme? What if they were all mocking her when she wasn't looking? She didn't care. She could play a noblewoman and she would fool everyone.

Aspen stepped into her room and stifled a gasp of pleasure at what she saw. A fire blazed in the massive fireplace to her left, a large wooden tub was placed before it filled with steaming water...the smell of lilacs filled the room. Her four-post bed was set upon a pedestal and was draped in red velvet...large pillows were fluffed and filled the head of the bed to nearly the middle. She could barely wait to go to sleep! A table was set beside the bed with a chamber stick and candle sitting atop a doily. There was a large window, which was shuttered against the weather with a ledge under it for sitting. She noticed a doorway to her right and strode to inspect the other side.

A large chest stood along the far wall and a table and chair was placed in front of her. She spied something shiny lying on the table and picked it up...the pale face of a girl stared back at her and she nearly dropped it before she realized it was a looking glass...something she had only heard of, but had never seen. She quickly replaced it, for her reflection was pitiful. She had no idea she looked so wretched. Spinning back around, she appeared to be inspecting her room for comfort.

"I suppose this will do nicely," she announced.

Mary seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"There will have to be some rules as my maid. The first one is that you call me Aspen in private. When his lordship is around, proper names are a must."

She seemed to relax more and even offered up a small smile of gratitude.

"Now, the rest will come later. I wish to take my bath." She smiled inwardly at herself...it was wonderful to be noble and order others around for a change!

Mary moved behind her to undo her laces that kept the rag on her body. She sucked in her breath at the sight of Aspen's bruises.

"I was thrown from my horse yesterday. Such a shame, the day before I arrive, but they will heal. The water will feel wonderful and will cure my aches. I know the dress is hideous, but please have it washed and returned to me."

"Yes, m'lady... Aspen," she stuttered.

Once freed of her dress, she climbed into the water and let a contented sigh fill the air. She sat back and rested her head on the edge of the tub and allowed her hair to get wet and soak in the sweet fragrance of lilacs. This was the first time in her life of nearly seventeen years that she had taken a warm bath all alone, and she reveled in it. Mary rubbed the bar of soap through her tresses and handed it to Aspen to wash herself. Aspen knew she desperately needed this bath...washing away the dirt beneath her nails and in the creases of her elbows, the sweat in her underarms and the dusty film over her face. It was amazing, realizing how bad she had smelled after knowing what it was to smell good. Mary helped her emerge from her bath and covered her in a blanket that had been warming by the fire...and one was wrapped around her head to pull the wetness from her locks. Mary motioned to her to sit in the high-backed chair before the fire where she removed the blanket from her head and spread her hair over the back of the chair to dry. Over and over Mary brushed until the heat finally dried her hair and she could twist the masses into a chignon and pin it into place. Mary told her to stay where she was and left her to disappear into the dressing room, reappearing with a dress the color of moss. She bade Aspen to stand and drop the blanket as she helped her into the gown of green silk. It was such a soft color...and heavenly fabric against her skin. Mary pulled the laces along her backside and drew the black sash just beneath her breasts that dared to peek a bit above the low neckline. The gown brushed the floor and the sleeves were long and tight to her wrists accentuating her slender hands and long fingers. Aspen felt like royalty and a foreign excitement began to build within her. This is the life she could look forward to, to be pampered and clothed and fed...and give very little in return; just the part of her that was not real.

There was a knock at the door not long after and Mary opened it to her master. He filled the doorway looking formidable, but clean and well dressed once again. There was a bit of light within his obsidian eyes that had not been there before and it unnerved Aspen and a chill tore down her spine.

"Chilled?" Thorne asked.

A small smile touched her lips faintly. "Nay, my lord. Must just be your darkness that made me shiver."

"At the risk of making you shake from your slippers, I have come to escort you to the evening meal. You must be famished," he retorted sensing her humor. She looked absolutely stunning to him. Not many women could make his heart leap, but she did. What was it about her that wove a spell over him and made him lose his sensibility? If he was not careful, she could surely drive him mad...with the tilt of her stubborn chin, the smirk that played across her delicate lips, her feminine ears he could now see with her hair pinned up, her slender neck just begging him to dot kisses over...Damn! He had to stop thinking about her until he was ready to want to think of her. He realized he was standing there doing nothing and she was looking to Mary with questions in her eyes. Thorne cleared his throat and held his hand to her which she took by placing her palm against the back of his hand and walked beside him listening to her dress rustle against her legs. They walked the hallways and down the staircase in silence, Thorne opened the door to the great hall, which sat nearly empty but for a few of the soldiers that were off their rotation. Thorne led her to his table that was arranged upon a platform where she sat at his right and he sat at the head overlooking the dozen or more tables that were usually occupied by many more persons. Upon the table was a spread of food unlike any Aspen had ever seen...fruits of the season, lamb and potatoes, jellies and cheeses, breads of more varieties than Aspen knew there were. She could feel her mouth salivating as she stared and smelled the aromas.

"You are free to eat your fill, my dear," Thorne said to break the trance she had seemed to fall into. He knew that showing her these comforts would make her transition easier to handle...once a person experiences this kind of life, they won't want to go back to life they once led. It was a chance at bribery, he supposed, but if it worked...

Aspen helped herself to much of what was there, all of it tasting quite the thing upon her tongue, but she found her eyes were more hungry than her belly and had to stop before she became sick with it.

"Are your rooms to your liking?" Thorne asked her between bites of lamb.

"Yes, my lord, they are perfect," she answered him not looking his way.

"As they should be...far better than you have ever known, yes?" he said, his eyes boring into her. "What whore can you think of that lives this kind of life?"

Aspen's face grew red and her breathing came quick. "I don't think I like your topic of conversation, my lord."

"What? Why? I thought you would be used to being called a whore by now. Did your father not call you thus?" he said picking and picking at her to see if he could break her.

Aspen could feel the tears of embarrassment and anguish pricking at her eyelids and refused to show him her sadness. She swallowed hard and stood. "I think you are a horrid man and you cannot cage me. If you believed my da, you are foolish as well! I am no whore! Not yours, not anyone's! I care not how much you paid for me, you will never have me!" she screamed loud enough for the entire room to hear and then stormed from the table.

Thorne stood and just missed her as he reached out for her. "You had better come back, you pertinent little wench! Come back here, I said!" But even as he screamed after her, he just watched her go defiantly and determined. "I want two of you down there to guard her room and notify me if she tries to run!" he growled sinking himself angrily into his chair.

Aspen broke into a run as she exited the hall, wiping at her eyes with her hands and feeling foolish for letting such a man provoke her this way. She had to find a way to leave this place, go back to rescue her siblings and find a place to hide. Perhaps she could gain amnesty from the Earl of Rosehill, work there to have some coin and find a small house to keep her brother and sister safe. She threw the door to her room open and shut it hard...she knew Thorne could hear her outburst as he sat in his seat completely unnerved over the whole thing. To him she was nothing and he didn't care what he did or said, he had enough money to ruin anyone's life he chose to...hers was no exception. Quickly, Aspen went to her wardrobe in search of her ratty old dress she had come in earlier that day and could not find it. She swore under her breath and grabbed a blanket from the foot of her bed and proceeded to empty her trunk onto the middle of the cloth. Roughly, she tied it closed and stood, wiping her hands over her thighs and heaving from the excitement. She picked up the parcel with shaking hands and took it to her bedside when Mary came in to turn down her bed. Aspen sucked in her breath and looked about nervously. Mary stopped to eyeball the parcel and the guilty face of her mistress and a panic overcame her.

"Ye are not doin' what I think yer doin'...are ye?" Mary asked quite sweetly but fear shone in her eyes. "Oh, my lady...please don't run off! I know he is rough, but he will always get what he wants in the end; and he wants you. If ye go, he will hunt ye till he finds ye and we will all pay fer it in yer stead! I beg of ye...don't be goin'," Mary nearly cried.

"I refuse to stay and be treated worse than where I have come from. He can take his money and choke on it for I have responsibilities that I must tend to! He is a horrible, spoiled child of a man and I want nothing more to do with him!" Aspen fumed.

Mary began to bustle about and stoked the fire to a roaring blaze. Then she laid out a white nightdress across Aspen's bed...she tossed the many pillows to the floor beside the bed and turned the coverlet and blanket down off the full straw mattress. As she was about to leave, she turned to face Aspen.

"Think of others beside yerself, my lady. I will pretend I saw nothing and I hope ye will reconsider what yer about to do." And then she slipped out through the door and quietly let it fall shut.

Aspen thought of what had been said for less than a moment and dismissed it as it were not her problem. Her brother and sister needed her more than these people who chose to serve a tyrant. No, there was no decision to make. She sat upon her bed wringing her hands for some time; darkness had fallen and she hoped Thorne had retired for the night making it possible for her to sneak out from under his nose.

She carried her bundle to the door and set it gingerly on the ground as she tried the knob and opened the door a crack. She half expected to see the master staring at her when she peeped out, but he was not there. She let out a sigh of relief and opened the door, picking up her bundle again. She stepped into the hallway and to her surprise, there were two soldiers keeping watch...and they saw her! Her heart skipped a beat and she darted back into her room panting with fear. She took her bundle to the pile of pillows and hid it beneath and then strode to her window, desperate for a way out and finding nothing but a straight drop to the ground below. Frustrated, she spun around as the door opened again and the darkness of the lord of the castle stood there formidable and ominous, a fire distinctly burning in his eyes...his fingers tightly clenched around the head of his cane as he started her way. He was already very angry, so why shouldn't she make a run for it? It was a funny thing, though, because she stood in the grips of fear and intimidation and felt rooted and trapped as the devil himself was advancing upon her.

"Get away from me!" she screamed as loud as she could muster and hoped someone would come to her aid.

"How dare you! I bring you out of poverty and supply you with a suitable home, a soft bed to lay in for the first time in your life, enough food to fill your belly, fine clothing to hug your body...and I have asked you for little more than your loyalty! But any trust I could ever hold for you is destroyed! How could you betray my generosity and try to slip away?" he roared at her all the while watching her shake in his presence and that gave him a feeling of power over her.

"I cannot stand the very thought of being anywhere near you, my lord. You make my skin crawl..." Aspen said resisting the urge to spit on his shiny boots.

Thorne tossed his cane aside, grabbed Aspen by the arms and shook her like the dickens to force some sense into her stubborn head. She screamed and tried to push against him with her hands, but he had them held so tightly, she couldn't reach him. Her head was everywhere and she was getting dizzy, so she did the only thing she could think of and that was when her knee solidly connected with the vulnerable place between his legs. He fell against her briefly and she pushed him off of her and on to the ground. The veins in his neck were bulging and he appeared to be gasping for air...Aspen had never had to use that tactic before and really did not know how it could devastate a man, but immediately she felt a stab of guilt although it didn't last long enough to alter her plans. Aspen went after her things and started for the door when Thorne reached out and grabbed her ankle.

"You will not get away so easily! I paid dearly for you, so you I will keep!" he croaked out. A scream escaped her again as she tumbled to the floor and felt him pulling her toward him. She clawed at the ground knowing that if he had her close, he would surely kill her for her assault on him. Panicked, she kicked out at his hand to make him let go of her but he held fast and refused to give in.

"Let me go!" she screamed at him behind clenched teeth. "I do not belong here!"

Finally, he had her where he wanted her...right beneath him. He pinned her arms above her head with one hand and sat on her thighs to limit her mobility. He did not think he could sustain another blow to the groin. She continued to thrash around on the floor until she tired and just laid there panting from her exertion.

He looked as though he would snarl at her, but his words came out fairly calm. "You are mine, and you would do well to remember that. You have no say in the matter and it would be wise of you to accept your fate for what it is before real harm comes to you."

"You are vile!" she said back to him and spat over his fine clothing.

Thorne could not believe what had just happened and he wanted to strike her down, to make her realize who he was. But instead, he swore loud and long and pulled her to her feet just to throw her across her bed.

"You are mine!" he roared again. "You are confined here until you come to your senses!"

Thorne bent and drew up his cane and limped to the door bellowing for the guards to stand directly outside her door and make for certain she did not pass for any reason.

Aspen picked up the candlestick that burned beside her bed and threw it with all her might at Thorne's back but hit the wall beside him. He turned around just to see her screaming at the top of her lungs and hurling the blanket containing her possessions his way, landing just short of his boots. Looking up at her standing there with her hair askew and her jaw set in anger, he arched his eyebrow at her and left. Once outside her door, a smile broke his mouth of the gloom it had known for many so years and he forced himself to keep from laughing. He had met his match.

Some time later, perhaps hours, Mary peeked back in on her and saw that she was sitting at her window staring into the blackness of the night...she was still fully clothed and her nightdress was still upon her bed.

"Let me 'elp ye into bed, my lady," Mary urged.

Aspen sniffed and turned her head toward her maid and then back to the nothingness that lay beyond her window. Mary rested a hand upon Aspen's shoulder.

"Come...crawl into bed and you'll feel better in the morn. Then, ye can apologize to his lordship and go on about yer business."

Aspen looked incredulous. "I will not apologize to him."

Mary hung her head and sighed deeply, but was able to get her lady to stand and have her dress removed and replaced with her nightdress of soft white lawn with lace at the high neck and sleeves to her wrists, the length all the way to the floor. Mary placed a warmer under the blankets on the bed and fluffed the pillows her lady would sleep upon.

Aspen climbed into bed and Mary covered her up, taking the warm metal tray with her...Aspen delighted in the feel of a soft mattress beneath her and warm blankets above and let herself lay back against her pillow after Mary removed her hair pins, freeing her tresses.

"Good night, Mary," Aspen said quietly.

"Good night, my lady," Mary smiled at her in the firelight. "Tomorrow is another day."

Aspen sighed and inwardly wished that she would die in her sleep, which might have been possible if she had been able to sleep at all. Every noise of the fire made her jump and the unfamiliarity of the place made her uneasy all the way up until the sun began to lighten the sky and she finally began to relax when her door opened and a bath was readied for her. She groaned in protest and rolled over in her bed to bury her face in a pillow.

Thorne woke to a bath steaming in the chill of the morning and he wasted no time in jumping from his bed to the warm water. He watched as his chambermaid, Lilly, made up his bed and his hands itched to run over the softness of her body beneath the gray of her serving dress. She turned to him, sensing his eyes on her backside and tossed him a smile to brighten his day. She came to the tub's edge and wet the sandalwood soap in her hands and reveled in the feel of his skin as she scrubbed his skin, font and back...every last inch of him and then she kissed his mouth to see if she would get more out of the morning. He did not reciprocate as usual so she pulled back and frowned at him.

"What troubles you this morn, darling?" she asked, her brown eyes studying him closely.

"I have a feeling that this girl that arrived here yesterday is proving to be as much an inconvenience as I had thought she would. She tires me," he whined.

Lilly clucked her tongue against her teeth and placed her mouth at his ear, her hands toying with the patch of hair that covered his chest quite attractively. "If she proves to be that big a problem, there is always the big, dark, tower- the very one that made your grandfather infamous. Throw the little wench in there for a spell and see how she does. But, she will never take my place in your heart, will she? She could never love you as I do..."

Thorne's eyes grew dark and the thought of Aspen clouded his mind, her dress rumpled, her hair a disaster, her lovely chest heaving with anger and a faint smile touched him again. "Nay. She will never take your place," he replied from somewhere far away.

Lilly pulled away and frowned deeper as she could recognize that look in him as one that threatened her existence.

Thorne had dressed and started down the stairs bound for the morning meal when he was delayed by the calling of a desperate woman.

"My lord! Wait, please!"

Thorne turned around to see Mary skipping down the stairs toward him.

"What is it, Mary?" he asked impatiently.

"'Tis her ladyship. My lord, she will offer ye the words ye require from her, but she needs to know ye will be nice after," she said out of breath.

Thorne's eyebrow went up. "Nice? Perhaps if she would act like a lady, I would seem nice to her. Lord, help me, I have been nice to her! You of all people would not understand, but I have been nice!" he barked.

Mary shrunk back a bit. "My lord, I only meant that she needs a bit o' patience from ye. Tell her ye are sorry for the bad way of things last eve and she will come around."

"Mary, if I wanted your advice I would have asked you. Thank you, but I have nothing more to say on the matter. She stays where she is...no food, only water. She will come to her senses soon enough."

Mary hung her head and Thorne retreated to the hall for his nourishment. He had to be strong or she would end up ruling him, although he felt the tiniest bit of regret over shaking her until she kneed him quite admirably.

Aspen refused to emerge from her bed that morning despite the work that had gone into warming her bath. She lay there and tried to sleep the day away, but kept flopping around in her bed thinking of Kendric and Monica and whether they were better off with or without her. Images of her mother's tear streaked face haunted her mind and thoughts of how cruel life could be flooded over her until she felt she could bear no more. She sat up to see Thorne sitting in the chair before the empty fireplace, his fingers steepled against his mouth, his eyes watching her intently. Aspen let out a sound like a wounded animal and fell back to her pillow once again.

"Just let me go, my lord," she begged.

"Sorry, I can not do that. Despite what you must think, it pains me to see you like this," he said quietly.

Aspen snorted very unladylike. "You have no idea what pain is, for you are the one who distributes it to all those below you...which you think is everyone."

How wrong she was...somewhere, deep within his chest, his shriveled heart began to beat again. He began to come alive after all this time.

Thorne stood, still unable to reach her. He motioned for Mary in the hallway.

"Have cook make her a sleeping draught and we shall see if that helps her mood any on the morrow," he said with a kindness evident in his voice. Then he cleared his throat and bellowed out to her... "I had hoped you could show some manners and be able to join me for the midday meal, but alas, your mood has not improved...so stay here in this room, as comfortable as it may be, it cannot compare to cook's delectable morsels." He gave a great sigh masking his grin and took his leave.

His words made her stomach rumble and she covered her head with her blankets to make him disappear.

Mary returned with a warm drink that Aspen slurped at greedily...it warmed her belly and tasted of fresh apples and mayhap a bit of brandy and just moments later, she felt wonderfully heavy, her eyes crossed and she was lost to the world in deep slumber.

Thorne took himself off to his table where his meal awaited him in the great hall...people bustling about and the buzz of conversation floated all around him. He ate his fruits and cheeses, washing them down with a swig of wine. He had so much work to do; he needed to get the girl off of his mind. As he finished, he rose from his place and retreated to his study where he pulled his record books from their shelves and attempted to reconcile his funds and payments. His fingers stole to his temples, massaging them in circles...it was so odd that he had done this everyday for the last many years, but today nothing made any sense to him, the numbers and figures all jumbled together with his lack of concentration. He got up and paced the rug before the mammoth fireplace, all the while his mind returning to thoughts of Aspen. He let out a defeated sigh and decided to check in on her. It had been hours since he had left her to fall asleep and as the evening meal approached, perhaps she would feel up to joining him.

He took the stairs two at a time and paused with his ear to the door to see if he could tell if she was up and about, but he heard nothing. He cracked the door and poked his head in quietly as not to disturb her if she was still sleeping and looked about. There she was, curled up in her bed sound asleep, her breathing even and her face at peace. He chanced a few steps toward her as softly as he could and she stirred in her sleep, her hand finally resting upon her cheek and her hair spread over her pillow. A smile touched him as he came to the realization that he would rather be here watching her sleep than to be anywhere else and once that thought came to him, he sobered and left to go for a ride in the setting sunshine. He needed to stay strong and not fall weak to the girl...he needed to keep his distance so he did not succumb to temptation.

The feel of the strong horse beneath him and the breeze against his face helped him to feel much more himself as he rode over the countryside allowing the sights and sounds occupy his mind instead of the impossible girl who lay sleeping within his castle walls. He saw some wildlife that made him confident of the food supply this winter, the trees and wildflowers all coming into bloom in the early summer...the smells tickling his senses and rejuvenating his body. He looped around the village and rode on through as he made his way back to the castle as the sun was nearly gone from view, he noticed that plows were still unused and fields were still empty even though he had made it clear that it absolutely had to be done. Well, he would make certain they got the point within the next few days time. These people had been lazy quite long enough, he reflected as his jaw clamped shut in anger and his breathing came fast trying to control himself.

He stormed into the castle, the black cloud above his head once more, after turning his horse over to his stable lad. Henry opened the door for him, as always, and he bellowed his orders for a tray to be brought to his study where he intended to make a list of men who were not following his orders. They would be imprisoned for their lack in their duty. Perhaps that will get through to them!

Lilly brought him his tray with a trencher of vegetable stew and some cheese with a mug of ale. Thorne motioned for her to leave it on a table next to the fire. She seemed to linger a bit longer and finally turned to Thorne.

"Have you decided what to do with the wretch?" she asked boldly. Thorne cursed her for bringing Aspen back to his attention.

"Lilly, I have tried so hard all day just to not have to think of her and now you just destroyed my concentration! I do not know what to do with her, now leave me be!" he shouted and Lilly scurried out.

Lilly stopped outside the door to recover from her shock. He never yelled at her. She sensed a change happening in him, one she knew would make her dissolve from his life if she wasn't careful. She must think of the things that he loved in her, needed from her and play them before him to capture his interest once again.

Aspen knew not how long she had been asleep, but she felt wonderfully vibrant and well rested when she woke to what looked to be a gloomy day. Mary peeked in to see if she was awake and brightened when she saw her mistress sitting up in her bed.

"'Ow do ye feel this morn, my lady?" she asked with a broad grin on her face.

"Very well, thank you, Mary. But, I asked you to call me Aspen," she said stifling a yawn as she stretched. "How long did I sleep?"

"Ye slept all day and night, Aspen. I do hope ye feel better," Mary said slipping her a look beneath her eyelashes.

"I had no idea how tired I was, but I feel like a new person. What was that drink you gave to me?"

Mary cleared her throat. "T'was Cook's sleeping draught. His lordship was worried about ye not getting no sleep so he asked that I get ye something to make ye more comfortable. He checked in on ye all day, my lady. He really only has yer best interest at heart...Perhaps ye should give 'im another chance."

Aspen didn't know whether to feel gratitude toward the man or be angry with him for putting her to sleep so he didn't have to deal with her. But, she didn't want to spend the rest of her days sleeping so she thought perhaps she would try to start anew with him without having to apologize.

"Can I fix ye a bath today, my lady?"

"I think a bath would be lovely, thank you, Mary."

"I'll get the water started right now!" she exclaimed, so happy that her lady had come around.

Mary took herself off to round up John and the tub...and let his lordship know that things were good again. She found Thorne at his table eating a mixture of potatoes, pork, and eggs with some bread and fresh milk. He looked to be in a foul disposition, but she sucked in a deep breath and approached him with her news.

"My lord?"

Thorne looked up at her, seeing the light in her eyes. "Yes, Mary?"

"I have news for ye...her ladyship has awoken and she is feelin' very well...well enough to have her bath. Perhaps ye could pay her a visit and let her come out a spell...have a bit to eat."

Thorne snorted at her. "She owes me an apology. When she is ready for that, I will go talk to her."

"Beggin' yer pardon, my lord, but mayhap you owe her an apology as well. It is yer home, but she has lost hers...There is bound at be some anger in her. Perhaps ye could start over with her and see how that works..." Mary said hoping she would not be fired from her post.

Thorne looked as though he were thinking about what she had just said, he grunted between bites and waved her away.

Mary's heart sank for the girl and she took her leave to ready the bath.

So, the girl was hungry enough to talk, eh? He knew it would happen eventually, but he would not do it right away, he would make her wonder a little...She would know who was the lord and master of this home, and it was not she.

Aspen had her bath and dressed in a white gown with a red sash just below her breasts and Mary plaited her hair down her back. Thorne didn't come and didn't come for much of the day, leaving Aspen to pace her floor. She asked Mary to sneak her a morsel, but Mary refused with her position on the line for that infraction. Aspen grew angry and grouchy from the cramping in her belly and figured she would let him know her frustration when he finally came to her.

Thorne had just finished the midday meal early that afternoon and expected the girl would be hungry enough to apologize to a fly to gain her freedom. Hopefully, she learned her lesson and would be willing to bend to him as she should.

He opened her door to find her seated in the window, a brush in her hands running it through her lengths as she gazed outside. Slowly, she turned her head toward him as he entered, taking him in from head to toe...measuring him up with newly awakened eyes. He knew he would not get his apology by the look on her face.

He looked grand in his black breeches and long white tunic that laced at his neck and ruffled at his wrists, his shiny boots meeting his knees, and his long hair loose and ruffling slightly as he walked her way with his cane in hand. She offered him a small smile, though it nearly killed her to do so. Her belly gave a great rumble in protest and she crossed her arms over her middle to quiet the noise.

"Good day, my lord," she greeted him.

He had heard her belly even though she had tried to conceal it. He knew she was hungry. He stopped before her looking down his nose at her. "Good day. I am Thorne Darktower, Earl of Cliffehaven. We welcome you here," he said hoping she would play along with him.

Aspen recognized his humor as a way to say he was sorry for treating her thus and knowing she should do the same thing, she answered, "And I am Aspen Tiller, maid of Rosehill. 'Tis a pleasure, my lord." She set her brush down and offered her hand to him, which he took and kissed the back of it tenderly all the while keeping eye contact with her. An odd sensation coursed through her and he seemed to hold her hand a slight bit too long before letting go.

"I have some work I must tend to today, but I was hoping you would join me for the evening meal in the great hall later," he said softly.

The mere mention of food made Aspen's belly rumble again and this time she cleared her throat to cover it up. "I would be most honored, my lord. Thank you."

Thorne nodded at her and left the room, a smug smile upon his face. Neither of them could say they were sorry right then, but they both accomplished what they desired.

Mary, being present in Aspen's dressing room choosing a gown for just such an occasion, overhead the whole thing and her heart sang for them. Here was this special lady surely able to transform a heartless fool into a gentleman.

Another bath was readied for her late in the afternoon in order to be presentable for the evening meal. Aspen loved her baths, the warm water caressing her, the smell of florals floating in the water to perfume her skin, the way they relaxed her and lulled her into sleep...

A loud crack sounded from the fireplace and Aspen's heart jumped from her chest. Only then did she realize she had fallen asleep in the water. She was cold, gooseflesh covering her body. She shook convulsively as she washed her hair with the hard bar soap that had been left on the side. She glanced toward the fireplace for a towel to dry with, but found none. Where was her maid? Should she not have woken her before now? Uneasy feelings crept into the pit of her stomach and she resigned herself to getting herself ready for the meal. She stepped from the tub and its freezing waters and pattered to her bed. She snatched up a blanket that lay at its foot and wrapped herself in it.

"You have a glorious body, my lady," a soft familiar voice cooed.

Caught off guard, she spun in the direction of her dressing room, a scream stifled in her throat, to see Thorne standing in the shadows, his dark demeanor accentuated by the dancing flames across the room. He seemed distracted and somehow far away.

"My lord," she breathed. "You startled me."

"You are a survivor, my dear. I took your blanket to see what you would do when you discovered it missing. A noble-born woman would have been screaming for her maid, teary eyed and throwing a tantrum. You, however, took me by surprise and found something else to do the same job as this cloth I hold in my hands." He started toward her with the towel, his gait imperfect, never removing his glassy eyes from her. He was close enough to touch her when he bent to her ear and whispered, "You are an angel while you sleep."

Aspen stood quaking before him unsure of how to respond to his odd behavior. She thought quickly and stepped aside. She cleared her throat worried that her voice would betray her calmness.

"How much longer before we eat, my lord?"

"Not long. Mayhap, even less than an hour. I shall leave you to dress, you shall find a few gowns in the trunk. On the morrow, I shall have my seamstress visit with all her fashion knowledge. I have brought her here from Glendella's Glade and she should be arriving this eve. Then, we can remedy your clothing dilemma. I will see to it that Mary rejoins you to assist you in your primping," he smiled in the orange glow of the fire. Another log cracked and Aspen visibly jumped. A small laugh sounded from him, low and deep.

Aspen sensed in him that he did not like to always be a tyrant, that he possessed a soft, vulnerable side that she thought mayhap she could learn to like...just a little bit. She returned his smile, shyly, but it was progress.

He lingered just another moment before he shuffled to the door. Mary must have been waiting in the corridor for she immediately appeared to be of service.

"Yer freezin' m'lady!" she exclaimed. Let's get ya to the fire to warm and I'll get yer gown."

"Thank you, Mary." Her teeth began to chatter again. She moved to the warmth of the inferno and shoved her hands closer to the flames to melt away not only the chill, but the trepidation she still felt for Thorne.

Mary's steps behind her brought her from her thoughts. She offered a sweet smile and let the blanket drop from her to slip into her gown. It was a simple red frock of muslin, the long sleeves were tight and the neckline was low, almost to the point of being immodest. Two black satin bows laid over her shoulders and a black satin ribbon tied the empire waist of the dress just below her breasts. Her skirt fell to the floor but was split up the middle and an underskirt of black brocade peeked through when she moved her feet. It was a gloomy gown, almost evil in color, but it was a rich cut and easy to wear. Mary dropped the black leather slippers to the ground and Aspen daintily stepped into them. Despite her distaste for the colors, she found that she loved the fashion and decided to have more made in more cheerful shades.

Mary pulled a chair to the fire and asked her to sit to dry her hair. She let the maid pull the brush through her tresses and winced occasionally when the brush found a tangle. Mary spent near the entire hour drying her lengths of mahogany and finally tapped her shoulder to have her sit up tall. She worked nimbly with her fingers and had a plait fashioned long down her back. She then took it and wrapped around her head and fastened it into place with an ornate gold pin. A few tendrils fell loose and hung mysteriously about her neck.

"Well, well, m'lady. Ye are a vision," Mary sighed clasping her hands to her chest. Aspen shot her a smile and ran into the dressing room to fetch the looking glass.

Upon seeing herself again, she hardly recognized the face that appeared. She felt like the most beautiful of all women anywhere, more glorious than she had ever felt before. She absently touched her cheek to make sure it was really her reflection she was seeing and her lips broke into a radiant smile exposing her white teeth. She was lucky to have good teeth, for many in her village did not. She handed Mary the mirror and started for the door.

"M'lady! I am to take ye to the hall," she said laying the glass on the bed and scurried after her.

Aspen threw her shoulders back outside the hall trying to appear as regal as possible before entering. Drawing a deep breath, she nodded to Mary who opened the door and Aspen floated in.

Thorne was growing impatient with the little tart for being she was late. Why did women take so blasted long to dress? He drummed his fingers on the worn tabletop that was scarred from decades of use, muttering curses under his breath. Occasionally his hand would rake through his midnight head of hair. Every sound drew his eyes to the door expecting to see her, but she did not appear. He nearly hopped from his chair, toppling it in his efforts, to go fetch her himself. Just then, the door opened and in glided an apparition he was sure. She walked with a grace he had never known and the gentle sway of her hips drew his gaze to her flat belly hidden beneath the voluminous fabric of her gown. His pulse raced at the mere sight of her and quickened as his eyes rested briefly on her breasts to continue on to her face. She was not the little mouse she was upon her arrival any longer. Her lips were full and red, her nose was not perfect but was close, her cheekbones high and defined, and her eyes...Lord, her eyes captured him and swallowed him into their deepest emerald depths. Her auburn hair shone like a crown on her head with the braid wrapped into a coronet atop her head. The little wisps of curls teased him and taunted his senses.

Aspen was feeling inadequate and dropped her eyes to the rushes on the floor, her tiny pink tongue darted out to wet her ruby lips, tormenting him further. He never would have guessed it was the same girl standing before him needing his approval.

"My lady," he bowed, "you are an amazing creature." He straightened to dive himself into her spell once again. He took her hand and laid a kiss upon her bare knuckles. He felt her shudder, their eyes caught for the moment in a piece of eternity. " I have never in all my life seen such a vision of perfection."

"Thank you, my lord," she half whispered as she dipped into a curtsy.

Her flowery scent wafted to him clouding his judgment and he nearly took her scrumptious body on the table. He bent nearer to her and inhaled deeply to partake of the heady lilacs perfuming her creamy skin and radiant hair. He had to put space between them or it would become too much for him to control. He led her by her slender hand to her seat on his right at the dining table. He pulled the chair back and she sank gracefully to her delectable bottom he couldn't wait to feel beneath his hands. He took his own seat and began to fill his belly with the victuals that had been prepared for them.

Aspen had not seen food placed upon a saucer before. Leg of lamb smothered in a red sauce, roasted potatoes and a rice pudding stared her in the face. She spied an object near the plate and picked it up. She turned it over in her fingers and glanced toward Thorne. He was stabbing his food with it and shoveling it into his mouth. He felt her gaze upon him and paused in his eating to meet her questioning face. A smile tugged at his lips and he cleared his throat to keep from embarrassing her with his laughter.

"This is a fork. It is used to get food to your mouth without making such a mess with your hands. See?" he demonstrated.

This was the best of luxuries! She must be in heaven and did not realize it. Aspen nervously held it in her hand and began to scoop her food onto it. She lifted it to her lips and slid it inside. It worked amazingly! She tried it again and this time she impaled a piece of lamb and ate it. She grinned in satisfaction and pride exploded in her eyes. It made Thorne's spirit lift to see her so proud of herself. Slowly, he felt as though he were sprouting wings and one day would fly free with her by his side.

### Chapter 3

The daylight was dwindling as they finished their meal and Thorne wanted to take her on a tour of his grand home. He apologized, in not so many words, at how empty the rooms had become as so much had been destroyed in the siege that had been attempted on the castle years ago. He had never seen to it to replace furnishings that would never be used. The main floor consisted of many empty salons and drawing rooms with different colors on the walls and tattered tapestries hanging defeated in the stuffy areas. There was also a warm and inviting study where Aspen could tell Thorne worked long hours pouring over papers and smoking a pipe that lay upon the mantel of a giant fireplace that sported a blaze in its huge mouth, and a library that consisted of a handful of books that were poorly bound and falling apart...Nevertheless, Aspen's enthusiasm showed as her eyes lit up the room the way a candle's flame lights the darkness causing something within Thorne's being to twist and an odd sensation came over him. He showed her the kitchens where the servants were cleaning up and beginning to bake the bread for the next day's meals and they proceeded to pass back through the great hall to the foyer and ascend the staircase.

Thorne took her down the hallways opening few doors but pointing out that the living quarters were all up there...their rooms and guest quarters alike. The rooms she could see were sparsely furnished and poorly decorated, but her rooms were comfortable compared to Thorne's lavish ones. She stepped within the portal and found herself in a small sitting room that opened ahead of her with a beautifully carved arch that gave way to Thorne's massive four-post bed. Walking through the opening, Aspen could see the fireplace and just as she had expected, it was almost an exact replica of the one in the study...the gray and white stone mortared against the side of the wall, the wide mouth black as night within...new logs lay in wait for the tinder's spark, the deep mahogany mantle intricately carved and adorned with a pipe and a silver box that probably contained the tobacco resting atop. Aspen's eyes narrowed as she walked around the plush chair to get a closer look at the crest that hung with pride above the mantle...red in color, it sported a banner across the top that read _"Peto amor, amor vita"_ in letters of black. Two dragons faced each other as if ready to kill each other if they were not separated by a golden ring and crown. A gate of black came between the two swords at the bottom of the crest...one being a red blade, the other black. As if reading her thoughts, Thorne approached her.

"You seem troubled..." he said low in her ear, his hand on her shoulder.

Aspen jumped visibly and a new awareness came over her. She was in a strange man's bedchamber alone...he could have his way with her and there was little she could do to defend herself. Nervously, she cleared her throat. "Not troubled, my lord...just curious. What does it all mean?"

Surprised that she wanted to know, he was, for a moment, at a loss of words but recovered fairly easily. "Well, everything has a meaning...even the colors. The red is prevalent because it means a military strength; the black means grief. The banner stands as a reward for a great service...my father's role in saving the king from assassination. It says Seek love, love life...my mother would say that and she believed it. These dragons here represent the protectors of two villages...both black for they are both grieving, but they are separated by the ring of fidelity which represents the bond between my mother and father. The crown is the defender of a fortress such as how my mother and father defended my home. The swords of justice try to clash at the bottom...one red, one black, each one having a different view of what justice is... but are interrupted by the gates of the ruler. This one symbol stands for everything I know," he said, closing himself off to her.

"It is all so interesting. I feel you just told me your whole life, but I understand none of it," she answered.

"That is the way of it. You do not need to know any more than that," he said, feeling very vulnerable.

Aspen turned away and ran her finger over the small table that sat beside the richly cushioned chair and toyed with the small wooden sticks used to light a pipe, spying the shiny black boots that lay flopped against the leg. The smell in the room was rich and masculine. Aspen closed her eyes and let the strong odor infiltrate her senses. It was...comforting. Rugs covered the cold floor and tapestries of various events clung to the walls and a large window identical to her own was shuttered, barely letting in small slivers of light from the waning sun but casting gloomy shadows in the twilight.

They said little to each other as they made their way through the halls, the sounds of their footfalls the only noise between them. Aspen noticed a small hallway to her right that looked to contain only a single door of old wood and a rusty knob. There were no windows cut into the stone and the lanterns in the hall shed little light in the small alcove.

"Where does this lead?" Aspen asked.

"It goes to one of my most favorite of places," he answered her vaguely.

She pressed him further and reached for the doorknob. "And where might that be?"

He snatched her hand away, grunted and opened it himself. Inside was a dark corridor, how long, Aspen could not tell. No candles or torches burned and silvery cobwebs caught the light from the rest of the castle. She heard a scuffling sound and a case of the creepy crawlies rippled from her toes to her head. Thorne grabbed a lantern from the wall next to him and led her in. She suddenly wanted to go back, very afraid of what she was about to encounter. She paused, but Thorne grasped her wrist and towed her behind him into the gloom.

The corridor split a few times, different stone archways coming into view as the torchlight passed them by, and they finally brushed through the webs to a steep, narrow staircase. Up, up they went. Thorne shoved Aspen before him; Aspen gripped at the wall to keep her balance. He was behind her lighting her way when they came to a dead end with another door. She pushed it open with Thorne's help, revealing a wide area high atop the castle. Aspen stepped from the dark hallway and the rain pelted her hair and gown. She could see the lights of the village below through the gaps between the giant stone teeth that lined the edge. A squeal of delight rushed from her and she spread her arms wide and twirled in circles turning her face to the dismal weather. Thorne had never seen anyone behave so oddly...especially a lady. But then again, she wasn't really a lady.

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her rainy body against his.

"The battlements are a dangerous place, my lady," he warned. "It would be a pitiful shame if you twirled yourself to your death, now wouldn't it?"

Any joy she had felt faded at his words and she paled. He half dragged her to the toothy-edged wall and thrust her face forward so she could see the ground covered in razor sharp rocks below.

"Let me go!" she fought. He did and she stood her full height. Her eyes scanned as much of the horizon as the mist would allow. She could hear the waves of the ocean crashing on the cliff rocks in the distance. She saw the homes of Thorne's tenants and the dirty conditions like the ones she came from. A dark cloud descended over her emotions as she thought about Kendric and Monica living much the same. Bitter grief tugged at her heart and rose in her throat painfully. Tears descended down her face as the rain did. How could she have just left them? She should have tried to fetch them from the village on their way to Thorne's castle. She could have offered anything he wanted for their safety. Guilt panged within her and a war of emotions raged on.

Thorne placed his hands upon her shoulders from behind. She was so small and frail, yet she was so courageous and tall. He felt her sadness and decided he liked it better when she was dancing in the freedom of the elements.

"I am sorry. You know, I had a sister," he began quietly. Aspen turned to meet his midnight eyes, which mirrored the anguish in her own.

"What was her name?" she fished.

"Her name was Kara. She was ten." He stopped to swallow the impeding lump rising against his will. "She was up here one night wanting to watch for the first star to make her wish. No one knows what happened, but she screamed so loud and we all came up here and couldn't find her anywhere. I happened to look over the wall. I tossed my meal when I saw her lying down there bleeding everywhere...her face was so white. She seemed to stare right at me with horror in her empty eyes..." he broke off and turned from Aspen.

She walked back around to face him again and was taken aback by the evidence of his sorrow shining in his eyes...he hardly saw her as he was in the throes of his reverie. She watched him battle with his vision and one lone drop of his past rolled slowly down his smooth cheek and fell upon Aspen's hand. She hadn't thought he was capable of such tenderness, but he obviously loved his sister as she loved her brother and sister. She couldn't stand to do nothing to help him, so she reached up to wipe the wetness from his face. He closed his eyes and gloried in her touch. She did something to him. It was so foreign and new it terrified him. He was the resident tyrant. He was the master. He was...

He opened his eyes and saw her pity. "I did not tell you this to make you pity me," he said roughly.

She was flabbergasted by his outburst and she jerked her hand away and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I do not care to be in the company of so rude a man," she rebuffed and turned to the door to head back inside. She feared the unseen creatures in the corridor, but feared what he did to her even more. She should hate him as much as her father, but found she could not. He was as lost as she was and they needed each other to find their way. She ran down the hall with her arms out to feel the grungy walls. A shaft of light broke through the darkness and Aspen slid to a halt. One of the other corridors that joined to this dark one had a window or some sort of light that she could see. It glowed in the distance, a few paces away. Curious, she glanced behind her and saw that he hadn't followed, so she cautiously made her way to the window.

It was nothing more than an arrow slit and as she stepped closer, she found herself in a large circular room, empty except for a stone staircase that spiraled upward against the wall. Aspen took a deep breath and allowed herself to begin her ascent up the stairs. She held her dress in one hand and braced herself against the wall with the other. The stone was an eerie silver glow in the cloudy sunshine and she wouldn't have been surprised to see a spirit floating around somewhere. She was breathing hard when she made it to the landing. There was yet another room with a steeply pointed roof. Water dripped in between dislodged shingles and it smelled of wet rotting wood and dirt. Another slit in the wall drew her attention and she pressed her forehead to it to see outside. It was difficult, but she could see the courtyard and the front gates. She wondered what archer had stood in this place and shot his arrows to the invaders below. She also wondered how many times an archer had to take his post there, and how many men fell because of him. A sneeze attacked her nose and her eyes watered as it erupted. The noise echoed loudly and she heard startled birds fly away. She again looked out the window and saw the gloomy gray clouds fade into shades of purple and pink as the night approached. It was so beautiful to behold the streaks of heather and magenta transforming the sky into a mystical backdrop to the castle. She felt as trapped as she was free, like a fairytale princess waiting to be rescued by her true love.

Rayven sprung to life in her mind and her feelings of a love lost filled a void she felt in her soul. He was still the man of her dreams and he seemed so far away she doubted she would ever see him again. She longed to go back and see him one last time and let him know how he moved her and how she longed for him to take her into his arms and never let her go. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine how his lips would feel pressed against her own, how he would smell, how soft his hair would be running through her fingers. But, none of it mattered now. She was the prisoner of a dark man.

She sank to the floor and drew her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms about them and bowed her head to rest upon her legs. Her memories were a key to the door holding her feelings inside. They unlocked it and let the wave of forlorn woe gush in bitter, racking sobs.

Thorne wanted to punch someone square in the gut, he was so angry with himself. She was right; he was a horrible person- not who he should have grown to be. She had run through the corridor before he could stop her, or perhaps he chose not to stop her, but he hoped she had found her way in the inky darkness. He sighed and almost resigned himself to finding her to apologize once again for his rudeness...but no! This was his abode, his land and his word was law...he was law and she would do well to remember that! He took his torch from the wall, nearly extinguished from the rain and stepped into the blackness. As he neared the exit, he thought he heard crying. He spun in circles waiting for a specter to appear. He turned down another corridor and the sound grew louder. It was so mournful and full of heartbreak, he could barely make himself find its source. He came to the tower and he could swear he knew who it was, but refused to believe it could be her. What if she was hurt? No one had been up here in years and mayhap the roof caved in or a place in the floor gave way. Cursing his limp, he took the stairs as fast as he could manage and found her tiny form on the dusty floor bawling her eyes out. What kind of girl was she to make him detest her one moment and feel fear for her safety the next? It must be because his sister had died so tragically and he didn't want that to ever happen again to anyone. Anyone he cared for, his mind reasoned, yet he pushed that thought aside and knelt by her side. Her hair was coming loose from her style and her dress was filthy. Her shoulders shook with every sob and a warmth came over him. He wanted to care for her. He wanted her to have a better life and he promised himself he would never beat her as her father had for so many years. He would make her a lovely addition to his home in a legitimate way, he thought. No woman had ever moved him to think that way until now.

He reached before him and stroked her head. She screamed and lurched away from him.

"Don't ever touch me again!" she screamed.

"Aspen!" he called to her. She stopped and turned, her eyes clearing back to their lucid state. She hadn't even realized it was him. "Come here," he softly commanded.

She balled her fists at her sides and did as she was told. When she was within reach, he pulled her into his embrace and buried his face in her silken braids. After a moment, she reciprocated and wrapped her arms about him, clinging to him with every ounce in her being.

As the evening meal approached, Aspen did not feel up to eating. So Thorne had Mary tuck her in to bed and bring her a tray of bread and meats and cheese. He slipped some laudanum into her wine and placed it on her tray. He thought back to the way Aspen had reacted to his touch and realized that even he had issues that he thought he had forgotten about in his time as Earl of Cliffehaven. Things that, no doubt, caused him to be harder on the people he governed, to be a different person than he should be. He sat in his leather chair and watched the flames dance for him, listening to the wind blow and the rain pitter against his shutter. His mood was dark and foul and he needed to sleep it off. He gulped down the last swallow of his brandy, stomped to his bed and divested his body of his clothes. He threw back the coverlet and slipped beneath, the cold raising gooseflesh on his skin. It was a chilly night; he hoped Aspen was warm enough. As he approached the realm of the subconscious, he heard a knock on the door separating his room from hers. He thought he imagined it and once again approached sleep. The knock sounded louder and more persistent. He made no move to rise, but started when he saw what appeared as an angel next to his bed. He opened his eyes wider and sat up taking in all of what this ghost offered him.

"My lord," she whispered.

Realization dawned in him. "Aspen?" he wondered aloud.

She heard the dumbstruck tone in his soft voice. A small fear nagged at her, but she set it aside.

"My lord, I was purchased by you to be at your service. I have accepted that now and am here to service you."

He reeled back as if struck in the face. "Aspen, I-"

She came closer to his bedside standing in naught but her nightrail, the fire behind her showing all she had to give through the thin fabric. She was shaking mildly and her nipples were taught with cold. Thorne licked his lips nervously. It was true that he had bought her for this reason, but somehow things had changed for him. Yes, he was still as randy as the first day of the change from boy to man, but his feelings for her had changed. He did not think of her as his prostitute any longer. That thought put a fear in his heart he could not keep at bay. He should make himself use her and mayhap he could return to his old self and life would be the same. But, did he really want the same life? Alone, hated by everyone who knew him and who knew of him? He shook his head and raked both hands through his hair.

She touched his shoulder. Her fingers were so cold. He reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into bed beside him. He arranged the coverlet over her stiff body and smoothed her hair with his hand. Her heart was fluttering like a baby bird's and her chest rose and fell in an uneasy panic.

"Shhh," he soothed. "I'll not take you tonight. I just require another to help keep my bed warm on such a chilly night. I am sure you are cold as well."

She breathed a sigh of relief. He spooned her against his body, her back to him.

"Yes, my lord," she yawned.

Thorne focused his gaze on the crackling fire and let his thoughts run. He had not bargained for this to happen, but now that it had, what was he to do? Here, this sweet virginal girl was offering herself to him in a sacrificial attitude. She was so scared and so pale standing in the firelight, her white lawn gown touched both her chin and the floor, the full sleeves nearly too long for her. Her hair had cascaded down her back in glorious waves of auburn. The fire had cast a glow atop her head like unto a halo, making it harder for him to bed her. She was an angel and everything he had been led to believe about her was completely wrong. She was no harlot, she did care about others...she was beautiful. Her father just could not see that. He scowled deeply, and inwardly cursing himself, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep...the rhythm of her restful breathing luring him in as well.

The morning dawned too early for Aspen. Peeking over the coverlet she saw that the fire had burned down to embers. It was cold in his tomb of a room and as much as she did not want to leave the warmth of the bed and Thorne's arms, she had to. She had shamed herself and lingered longer than she should have. Carefully, she lifted his arm from her waist and slipped to the floor. A rush of icy air hit her warm skin and she ran to the hidden door that connected her room to Thorne's trying hard not to let out a squeal. Her feet were almost numb from the cold of the stone in her room. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when Mary was standing before a roaring fire, waiting for the water to warm. She heard her enter and looked up to smile at her. She was white as a ghost and cold.

"'Mornin' m'lady," she greeted.

"It is Aspen, remember?"

Mary cleared her throat. "Aspen, yer bath is about ready. I can help ye undress and hop on in. Ye look so cold."

She came behind her mistress and helped her to pull her nightrail over her head. Aspen sucked in a sharp breath at the invisible knives of cold stinging her bare skin. She modestly crossed her arms over her breasts and climbed into the tub. The hot water was paradise to her and she sat back to let the steam carry all her reservations away. She was going to be a new woman, beginning today. She was going to make a difference to someone. Rayven was a part of her past, her parents were a part of her past, and God help her brother and sister, but they also were a part of her past. She was to be here, be spoiled and keep Thorne happy. It was a life she could live happily. Well, mostly happy. The far away thoughts of marriage and children filled her head. She wanted a family of her own, but Thorne had said he wanted nothing of it. He was a lord. He needed an heir, did he not? She put that on her mental list of things to ask him this morning. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling contented when she should feel angry and betrayed. Mayhap she was a bad and selfish person for allowing herself to forget them all, she thought and furrowed her brow. She did not believe in her heart of hearts that she was anything bad. She did feel that for the first time in her life, she could learn to love life.

Thorne woke to his maid filling his bath for him. He moved his arm over his bed and realized she was gone. Aspen had left him. A strange disappointment filled him within and he sighed. He pulled himself from his warm bed and marveled at the cold. It should be warming soon. He was weary of the cold. His maid, Lilly, strutted to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair and rose upon her toes to kiss him fully on the mouth. Thorne growled at her and returned the affection. His frustration claimed his mind and he transformed into an animal, pulling her to his body and filling his hands with her buttocks. She squeaked out in delight and ran her hands down his torso until she found what she desired between his legs. She took it into her hands and stroked it until it came alive and couldn't wait to claim her body. Thorne nearly tore the dress from her breasts in his fevered need to claim them. Soon enough, she was naked against him and he crushed his mouth upon hers once again, plundering her open mouth with his tongue. He was freezing, but could feel the sweat building on his face and chest. He threw her on his bed, the same bed he had shared with Aspen, though not in this capacity. He did not even have to encourage her legs to open to him, for they were already thus, waiting for his pleasuring intrusion. He ravaged her roughly, but she seemed to not care. She climaxed and a scream of enjoyment rent the air...followed by his own. He immediately moved off of her and fought to catch his breath once again. Dark emotions clouded his eyes once again like every day before Aspen's arrival. He slipped into the cooling waters of his bath and Lilly joined him to wash him from herself. She took the sandalwood soap and slid it across his skin. He opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist. He clenched his teeth to keep from yelling. He saw fear dawn in her eyes. He felt power again and it was a marvelous feeling.

"I do not require your services any longer today," he stated.

She nodded her head in understanding and removed herself from his bath. She quickly dressed and took her leave, a foolish tear in her eye. She had been his nanny when he was a child. She had seen him grow from boy to man, she knew everything there was to know about him. Since the arrival of that rat, he had seemed different. She looked forward to her daily tryst in the sheets with him, but he had never sent her away like this. She had been naught but a girl...her mother had been the cook, when she was the nanny for Thorne and his sister. She was ten years his senior, but she was still young. Some days she hated her life and the fact that she had never settled and had a family of her own. She had always held up hope that he would come around and raise her from the bowels of the servants to the heaven of nobility. After all the years and effort she had put in, he was taking a shine to a scroungy little peasant girl. She had known about her sleeping in the same bed with him and it stirred a fire in her that could not be quenched. He tried to pass this girl off as being a noble, but she knew better. She was in the way and may need to be rid of...like Kara.

Several days had flown by and Aspen struggled to find her place in the castle. The seamstress had not arrived on schedule, sending Thorne into fits. Their few encounters together felt slightly estranged and Thorne seemed distracted.

Aspen was seated at her place at the table when Thorne strode in for the morning meal. He appeared to be in a foul mood. She wanted to have nothing to do with any more bad moods, so she simply went on eating her porridge. He was dressed much the same as the day before and she wondered if he ever wore anything different. His leather boots groaned at him as he sat and he eyed the bowl of mush before him.

"What does it take to get decent food around here?" he wondered aloud.

"I think it feels great on such a cold morning. At least it is warm," she reasoned.

He grunted at her and shoveled his mouth full.

"I have to go into the village to check on the progress of the planting. Many of my tenants are rebellious and will not do it unless I make them," he stated. "You are to stay here and keep out of trouble."

Aspen was angry. "And what do you propose I do, my lord?"

"Read, take a walk, clean. I do not care as long as you stay out of my way."

She snapped back as if struck by his words. "Why can I not go with you?"

"Because it is none of your business what I do. You are naught but the hired help and it would do you well to remember that. You are not the lady of the castle, but you are a mistress. My mistress."

She paled at his cruel words. She steeled herself and stood from her seat. "As you wish, my lord."

"You are not finished. Sit and eat," he commanded.

"I have lost my appetite, _sir_ ," she retorted. She turned and glided from his view, the peach silk of her skirts rustling with her steps, the lingering scent of lilacs trailing behind her.

His fury at her blatant disrespect created a new energy and he needed to expel it. How he itched to use it on her, but he knew he could not. If he allowed it to happen, she could easily bring him to his knees. He could not let her get close to him. She had gotten him to make revelations yesterday that she didn't need to know about. She would know nothing more about him, he would make sure of that.

Aspen paced the library floor glowering at the rug on the floor. She threw her hands into the air and wanted to scream out her frustration with Thorne.

"He is the most impossible man!" she vented. "One minute I am something to him and the next minute I am not! I wish he would make up his mind!" She let out a discouraged groan.

She remembered the seamstress was arriving that day. She decided to go ask him when she should expect her. She wandered the halls for some time trying to find her way to someone who knew of his whereabouts. She found a heavy wooden door and pushed it open to reveal an overgrown garden still shriveled and brown from the winter. With very little foliage and few flowers, it seemed bare. She could see statues of cherubs and men and women standing in intimate embraces. A fountain was trying to gurgle some water ahead and the wooden fence was threatening to fall. She could spend her time out here and enjoy being outdoors. This could be her refuge...her place. She followed the path through the tangled mess of branches and soggy leaves and could see the stables across the grass of the courtyard. All visions of the garden faded on the summer breeze like smoke from a chimney. She set her jaw as determinedly as she dared and started for them. She had questions for him and he was going to answer them.

She pulled open the door and it creaked in protest. She heard the animals within snort nervously at her intrusion. The carriage was still there, but had been prepared for the trip to the village. A horse had been bridled and the reins tied to a post, waiting to be attached to the vehicle. She heard the door begin to open again and quickly, she hid behind the carriage in a pile of hay. It smelled horrible, but her fear of being discovered made it bearable. She studied the back end and figured there would be enough room for her to stow a ride on the baggage platform. Quietly, she pulled herself onto the flat board used to pack boxes or luggage and curled up to be more inconspicuous. She heard voices in the direction of the doors, voices she did not recognize. The carriage bumped around and a horse neighed and then all was still. She thought one last time of revealing herself and trying to plead her case to go with him, and thought better of it. He would think the worst of her; they always did. The driver led the horse from the stable and stopped in front of the main doors. Aspen was scared out of her mind at being discovered in her plot to go along. She heard the soft deep voice of Thorne and he stepped up into his seat. The driver gave a sharp whistle and the wheels started rolling faster. Every bump they hit in the ground almost threw Aspen from the rolling carriage as she held on for dear life closing her eyes in prayer.

"Please don't let me fall, please," she muttered.

The sounds of the ocean seemed to grow louder until the pounding surf filled her ears. She could no longer hear even her own heartbeat. The wheels began to slow and she opened her eyes to see pastures and outbuildings go by. She glanced at the ground and could tell they were on a narrower path than the main road. They came to a stop and she heard Thorne hop out of the vehicle as gracefully as he could. She heard the tap of his cane on occasional rocks in the ground. When she thought he was far enough away, she slid to the ground and hid behind a nearby tree, hauling her skirts above her knees to run faster. Her heart was beating wildly and her lungs were filling with air faster than she could expel it. As her body calmed, she stole a peek around the thick trunk. She saw a man and his wife, dressed worse than she ever had, their home was roughly the size of an outhouse it was so small. The man was holding his hands out in front of him like he was trying to surrender. The woman looked to be near tears and was wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip. Thorne was pointing his finger sternly at the both of them, evil lurking in his eyes. She could tell they were terrified of him. Suddenly, Thorne balled his fist and connected it to the man's face, sending him flying back into the dirt. Aspen had never seen such a barbaric thing between a lord and his tenant and it infuriated her. The man lay unconscious on the ground, blood oozing from his nose and mouth. The woman screamed and Thorne grabbed her grubby hair. She clawed at him and slapped his arms only to fail. He swept her feet from beneath her and laid her on the ground. He held her hands with one hand and hefted her skirts with another. Aspen's eyes nearly popped from their sockets and she found herself screaming louder than a banshee and flailing her arms about her as she ran at the devil himself. He looked up at her and his face grew ugly with sinister emotion. Aspen knocked him over onto his back and helped the woman up before he knew what was happening. The woman was hysterical and ran into the house to bar the door. She didn't even take the time to drag her poor husband in with her.

Strong hands yanked her hair. She yelled out in surprise more than the pain. Her father had done that many times. She fell back against Thorne and he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook the bloody life out of her. He drew her backwards against the carriage and placed his hand around her neck.

"Jealous, my dear? Well, then if you are willing to take it for the filthy wench..." he snarled at her between clenched teeth and began to work her gown up around her waist feeling for her hidden place that she had no intention of him knowing. She tried to scream out and use her knee on him again, but he was attuned to her thoughts and braced her legs with the rest of his body trying to free himself from his breeches and teach this girl a lesson.

"Stop!" she screamed.

As if he was waking from a trance, he blinked at her and let her go.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" he snarled at her. "I gave you specific instructions to stay put!"

She met his glassy black eyes unflinchingly. "What in God's name do you think you are doing to these people?" she asked as calm as the sea in the eye of a hurricane.

He stared at her as though he could scare her and cried out in anger when she would not budge.

"I do what I feel I need to do to keep my people in line. Max has still not yet planted and soon it will be too late! They need to do what is asked of them!" His wrath was building yet again.

"Being one of these kinds of people, I know that violence is not the way to have a prosperous village. The dungeon will only cause rebellion. Did you know that the Earl of Rosehill has zero prisoners? Although I feel my father should take a visit, we had no problem with crime or disobedience!"

"That is one case, mine is another. You need to stay out of everything that is mine and let me govern the way I see fit!" He pulled his hand back to slap her precious face. She did not even blink. He remembered the way she mentioned her father and knew how badly he had beaten her on a daily basis. Why in the world would she fear him? She had faced that fear every day, why would today be any different?

"You know, if you strike me, you may feel better...then again mayhap you won't. I thought you a different kind of man yesterday. What happened to him?" she asked.

He felt he was being strangled by her words and realized he was trying not to cry. Only children cried. He was ashamed of himself and what he had become over the years. His guard lifted again and resolve hit him in the gut. "You happened to me, Aspen. I want so badly to loathe you and you're making it very hard to do so!" He spun from her animosity and paced toward the buggy. He spun back around and stomped back to her, that limp of his leaving him looking awkward. "You have undone things in a few blasted days that have taken my whole life to perfect! I hate it!" he howled and turned from her again.

She was not about to let him have the last word and she ran after him. "Being an ass has taken your whole life? Making people hate you has taken your whole life? When did you have time to love anyone or value the beauty of the sunset? What about the sand on the beach? Have you ever gone there and let the wet muck squish between your toes? Have you ever ran through a meadow in the heat of the summer and jumped into a stream just to be crazy?"

"I hated being a child! I was ignored by those catering to my brother and my sister was too young to play with! I was beaten if I played with the servant children! I had to study all the time! Unfortunately, I was not trained for this post! My brother was to be the earl at my father's passing. They were murdered beside me in a battle with Rosehill! I was a boy and I was supposed to be the master, my mother and sister were dead...I was alone! I have struggled since the very beginning to make these ingrates respect me and my position, and they insist on defying me at every pass!" He sank to his knees and raised his fist to the heavens. "I did not ask for this life and I don't want it!"

Aspen reached his side and cradled him like a small child as he cried his past into his hands. She craned her head around and saw that the man and the woman were both watching in disbelief. They were astonished that the mouthy little chit didn't get her head removed by the moody earl.

"Brutalizing and raping your peasants is not the way, Thorne," she whispered. "Loving them and appreciating them, providing for them and celebrating with them will turn their hearts to you. You may not want this, but you have no choice. You must improve what you have for the next in line. I will help you."

He sat up and looked at her caring for him after he nearly shook her to death and took her body at the same time. Her hair was a tangled mess from his rough grasp and her fine dress was ripped at the shoulder seam. She bit her lip and the sorrow he saw lingering in her eyes was more than he could bear. He cringed before her.

"I dislike the fact that I am hated and feared. I wish I could be different, but I am not," he looked away from her beauty.

"You can be different. If you let someone else share in the hauling of the burden, it is more tolerable. I am willing to help you, Thorne."

He reveled in the fascinating way she could say his name and have it not sound full of deep hatred. No one else said it quite like her. "I will try, but I make no promises," he surrendered.

She smiled at him and melted his heart. "The first thing you need to do is apologize."

"I am so sorry I treated you so badly," he bowed his head ashamed.

"Your apology is accepted, but I had meant _them_ ," she grinned and tossed her head in the peasant's direction.

He looked at her like a caged animal. "You cannot ask that of me. That is ..."

"That is proper etiquette, is it not? To beg the forgiveness of those we wrong?"

He looked like a child who refused to clean the stables, stubborn as a mule. She reached down and wrapped her slender fingers around his and drew herself up from her knees, pulling him with her. She led him to where the couple was standing.

"Show them just how noble you can be," she whispered to him.

He raised his head and looked them in the eyes. He truly was sorry, he just could not let it roll off of his tongue.

"His lordship has something to say," she began nudging him in the ribs.

Curiosity filled their faces and they clung to each other hoping the conversation would not turn for the bad this time.

"As the lord of your village, I apologize to you and beg your forgiveness of my behavior. I have seen the error in my ways and I will not let it happen again."

The couple was skeptical, but moved by his words. They narrowed their eyes at him. "Why should we believe ye?" the man asked fingering his face where he had been struck down.

"I told you they would not believe me," he exclaimed to Aspen.

"Some things do take time, my lord. If my father had apologized, I would not have believed him. But if he had taken the time to show me he was serious, I would have then."

He pulled her to his side with his arm around her waist. "This remarkable woman has lifted the wool from my eyes and will join me in my transformation from bad to good. Every good thing that is bestowed upon you is her work. I hadn't realized what a jewel I had found until now." He kissed her temple and she could feel the scarlet color creep from head to toe. She grinned sheepishly, not having had expected to be included in his humble words.

The man held out his hand to him, appreciation evident in his eyes. Thorne took his hand and smiled. He hadn't felt so spectacular for as long as he could remember. His lungs seemed to breathe the clean air for the first time, the drizzly countryside never looked so fresh, the ocean never sounded so clear. He was so giddy with true happiness, he wanted to kick up his heels and giggle like a young boy. A gigantic weight lifted itself from his shoulders and like she had prophesied, the burden _was_ easier to bear.

The sun peeked through the clouds to sprinkle them with its warmth. Everything seemed new. A new beginning...

They spent the afternoon talking with Max and Lila and found out a million things that Thorne had not known. Lila couldn't get pregnant because conditions were so bad in the village, and that more than anything they wanted a family. Thorne also found out that no one could begin planting because, the seed had been contaminated by rodents through the winter, and now was unusable. Most of it had been eaten, but what was left was not good planting seed. Thorne let his face fall into his hands for he knew the people had asked for a stronger shed for the seed and he had denied them. At Aspen's request, they discussed improvements on the housing and the quality of their clothing. They decided to set out a certain amount of money to help the people become a more abounding community.

Thorne and Aspen took their leave in the late afternoon but had some time left before the evening meal to ride through the village in the carriage, together this time. They took turns pointing and offering their ideas to each other. As the sun rose behind the clouds and into the sky, they realized it was nearly time to eat. The day had warmed some and smelled of damp earth and the salty ocean. Aspen felt invigorated and her energy increased. She felt as though she had taken on the world and conquered it. It was the first time in her life that she felt she had won a battle and that power was magnificent. She inhaled a deep breath and her eyes lit up the afternoon. She decided she would confront Thorne about some other issues she wondered about.

She had done it again, he thought to himself. She extracted information from him and used it against him. His vow to keep her at bay was broken, rendered useless. She made him so angry, he forgot his tongue and spewed forth personal happenings he did not want to reveal to her. But, the elation he felt at making amends with Max and his wife made him feel so surprisingly wonderful, it amazed him. Never would he have thought that being one of them instead of ruling over them would bring such a feeling. They had so much work to do to improve his village, but he had a remarkable woman at his side. He looked at her from beneath his lashes and saw her cheeks rosy and a smile upon her red lips. He thought about the day he had gone to get her, just a few sunsets before. She was so ragged and dirty, her lips were pale and her eyes were dull. Sadness left its mark in dark circles under her eyes and she was staring at anything but her father or himself. He remembered sensing the fear and the anger in her and then out of nowhere, she was this bright, courageous woman. Her hair was shiny, her eyes alight with life, her lips were red as blood. The dark circles were all but gone and her back was straight as a board. Her grace was unfaltering. She moved him beyond what he ever thought was possible.

He thought back about the day's events and inwardly cringed in shame at what he had been about to do to Lila. He chuckled softly at the vision of Aspen running at him like she was about to kill him, shrieking like a highlander entering a battlefield. Her eyes had been wide and furiously passionate to save a fellow woman from the worst of fates. A fate, he knew, should never be committed by a lord. He sighed in submission and covered her small hand in his.

"Thorne," Aspen began.

He tingled all over at the sound of his name falling from her lips. "Yes?"

She hesitated a moment before continuing. "I have some questions I would like honest answers to."

Dread filled him. He didn't want her to know anymore of the bad that invaded his soul. "I will do my best. Fair?"

She nodded in agreement. "First, you had mentioned yesterday that the battlement was your favorite place. Yet, your sister died from being up there. Why is it your favorite? How can you possibly like to be up there?"

Thorne scooped up her hand into his brought it to his cheek. "I feel close to her. I swear that I can feel her watch me...that I can feel her presence. It comforts me and makes me remember I am only a man. I would only have to slip and I would suffer the same fate she did. It makes me know that I am mortal, contrary to some beliefs. Some think I am the devil, that I am here to ruin their lives. But I know now that I don't like to be thought of that way anymore."

Her heart melted at his words. "Being the lord, and the last in the line, why do you not want an heir? I thought that was a lot about being noble. Am I just not a suitable woman to bear your children?"

"I think that if I wanted children, you would be my only choice, Aspen. I do not like being the earl of these people...or any people. I was born second because my brother was supposed to govern. Not me. I do not want my offspring to be forced into a life they do not want. If I have no children, I can name a new earl to take my place. Lord knows, he would be a better candidate anyway. If having children is important to you, I am sorry. Mayhap I can bear to let you go eventually. But for now, I want you. I need you, Aspen."

Glory filled her heart and she found she was breathing faster at his warm and touching words, but she could not take her eyes from his.

"Tell me about your brother and your father," she prodded.

"What exactly do you want to know?" he had a feeling what it was she was getting at.

"You had mentioned, in the heat of the moment, that they had died in battle with my village. I want to know what happened."

"They were slain beside me. That is it."

"No, that is not it. What was the reason for the battle? I do not remember one. When was it? Who killed them?"

He sighed deeply. "You know this is like thrusting a dagger through my heart, don't you?"

"I think it is important. I want so badly to understand you and to know where your anger comes from. Please, let me in."

"Rosehill felt this land should have been theirs and so the grand Earl of Rosehill, St. Michael to be exact, decided to launch a siege. They were going to take over my home and steal our tenants. We caught wind of their plans. A certain informant, your father, let us know what was being planned. He came to us on the condition that when you were of age, we would take you in and create a place for you in our castle. He didn't care what we did with you, but he wanted you out of his home as soon as possible. This was ten years ago and I was fifteen. Nevertheless, we were ready for St. Michael, but they didn't go without a fight. Wilford was fighting my father and ran him through and turned before my brother could catch him in the back and..."

"It's okay," she nearly cried. Her father was a traitor as well...

"He beheaded my brother. I was fighting the best I could, but I had not been trained in the art of war. I was young, I was not the firstborn...I was unprepared. I ran as fast as I could to escape the events that had just happened and threw up down by the beach. I cried like I never had before and I hated myself for being weak. I calmed down and saw blood on my leg. I found the source...a huge gash in my calf muscle. I never felt it until I saw it and immediately it throbbed and hurt. I stood to make my way to the castle and I couldn't walk on it anymore. I sat there and cried all night. The next morning, I began to crawl. My wound was swollen and black, but it wasn't bleeding anymore. I couldn't feel my foot and had to take off my shoe to accommodate the swelling. I was hungry and so thirsty, but no one in the village would help me. They were all too cowardly to open their doors. I collapsed in the road and the captain of the guard happened to find me and just in time. They say I would have died at any moment. Now, I have this blasted limp and the memories that haunt my dreams. I hate St. Michael with everything inside of me and have thought everyday since the death of my father and brother about revenge. You were going to be my revenge. I paid your father for you because of the things he said, inappropriate untruths that now make me infuriated. He is a rotten pig of a man and I would love to strangle his neck!"

Aspen was quiet and nearly sorry she had asked about his family. His anger at her father was comforting. He would always protect her from him and that made her feel safe.

"I am so sorry, Thorne. But, for all it's worth, I am glad you came for me. I used to sit in my secret place and dream about being rescued by a gallant man and to be taken back to his castle to live happily ever after. The way I was 'rescued' leaves little to be desired, but you did rescue me. I thank you for that. I only wish my siblings were here as well. You had mentioned revenge. How were you going to get your revenge?"

"I was going to make you tell me all that you knew about St. Michael and his castle. I wanted information about how his castle is laid out and if I had to, I would send you as a messenger in order to get that information. I even thought about killing you to spite him and then pursue my crusade to rid the world of him and his kind."

"You were really going to kill me?" she asked with wide eyes.

"It had crossed my mind. Knowing you as I do, I would not give it another thought. I feel horrible for even thinking about it. You were a different person when I came for you. You were quiet and afraid and I thought I could shape you to me easily. I was very, very wrong," he smiled. He could feel her relax, but was glad he was able to speak freely with her.

"I hated you the first time I saw you. But, I hated my father even more. What I know of him now, makes my feelings stronger. I have thought of revenge on him since I was about eight years old. He thinks I am the daughter of the earl, you know. He thinks my mother was unfaithful to him and she swears she was not. I was my father's child but he refuses to be convinced of that."

"You could be the Earl's daughter. For a peasant, you have grace and beauty. I think quite often about how you were taught to carry yourself so. You have many elegant mannerisms that one could not know, but could be born with. You are a very noble woman even if you were not born so."

"I used to play with my friends and we would pretend we were princesses and that we lived in a white castle on a high mountain with walls covered in roses. We would weave crowns of willow branches and daisies. We would serve each other tea and cakes and wait for Prince Charming." She smiled at the memories playing back in her mind, hearing the birds chirping in the trees and smelling the fragrant flowers in a nearby meadow. She could hear her friend's voices so far away and longed to see them again.

Thorne could see the emotions play across her face and saw it linger on a sad expression. "What? You look so sad, my lady," he whispered.

"I miss them..." she trailed off.

"I can send for your brother and sister. They can stay here with you."

"I don't miss just them, I miss my best friends, my music lessons, the festivals...all the little things that made my life worth living. But, if I could, I would love to have Kendric and Monica come and stay. You are a very kind person even though you try very hard to be mean," she smiled.

"We will go there in one week. How is that? I want nothing more than your happiness. Why don't we plan a festival? After we figure out our seed dilemma, we will hold a planting festival."

Her face brightened. "It would be a wonderful way to thank the people for their hard work!" she exclaimed.

Thorne laughed out loud. His lungs expanded more than they had for as long as he could remember. The air felt wonderful and crisp, very refreshing. "It is just like you, my dear, always thinking of others and not yourself. You were the one who wanted a festival and now you are thinking of the people." He kissed her forehead. "You are a special person and you deserve the very best in life. I want that for you."

### Chapter 4

They arrived back at the castle of Cliffehaven just in time for the midday, walking up the stairs to the great doors that faithfully opened for them with the old man, Henry, standing stiffly to the side.

"Good day, Henry," Thorne sang.

The old man looked at him in shock. It was obviously the last thing he had expected from his master.

"My Lord?" he questioned with eyebrows raised.

Thorne just laughed all the way up the stairs.

"I will see you in just a few minutes?" he asked Aspen.

"Of course, my lord," she smiled at him, opened her door and set about changing and washing for the meal.

Mary was not there and Aspen felt light as a feather. He was a good person...she knew that. He would keep her safe and happy. She grabbed her skirts and danced around her room tapping her slippers on the stone and twirling in circles, her loose hair bouncing about her face. She hummed a song that seemed to come from nowhere, but had the most magical of melodies. She made her way to her dressing room and chose a simple gown much like the gown she wore before she came there. It was soft pink muslin with a high waist and a modest neckline, the sleeves being tight and long. She drew in the full skirt with a gold ribbon she tied around her waist. Aspen brushed her hair until it tumbled in silky curls down her back, then gathered it in the back of her head, and tied it with a gold ribbon at the nape of her neck. Then she poured water in the basin on a table and washed her hands and face. She was so excited to be with Thorne again, she could barely calm the butterflies in her belly and so she hurried down the stairs and into the great hall.

Thorne wasn't there yet, so she took her seat to wait for him. Aspen smiled in remembrance of the man she rode home with and all of the wonderful things he had said to her. Gooseflesh prickled her arms and she rubbed them instinctively. A shadow passed over her and she looked up into the eyes of a man she cared for greatly, their blackness no longer unsettling, but almost comforting, like the sky on a starry moonless night. Cupid wove a spell around them as they gazed at each other silently communicating their reassurance of events that had transpired earlier. Cook burst in and brought the food to spread over the table causing Thorne to clear his throat and he took his seat.

"What time is the seamstress to arrive?" Aspen asked as she stuffed a piece of pheasant into her mouth.

"Well, well. Aren't we greedy?" he smiled.

Aspen's mouth nearly hit the table and she came close to choking on her food. "I am not! I am only curious so I am not off elsewhere when she comes! How dare you call me greedy!"

"Calm yourself. I was jesting with you. I really have no idea when she will get here. I would assume anytime, so stay close. Read a book or something."

"Why don't you come out to the gardens with me and help me clean it up? It will be beautiful!"

"Whoa there! I would love to, but I am needed later in a meeting. I will occupy the study, so you can use the library. Stay out of the gardens today, you should be clean when Chloe calls. I am hoping to not be too long so I can help choose fabrics, but it may take longer than I am expecting."

"What meeting do you have? You didn't mention it earlier."

"Pardon me, I tend to forget certain details when a beautiful woman is telling me what to do," he laughed.

Aspen blushed from head to toe. "I hope you don't think I am telling you what to do. I am trying to help you, nothing more."

"Oh? And what of the talk about heirs and the like?"

"I was simply curious."

"You, my lady, are 'simply curious' about a lot of things."

"I have been sheltered all of my life. I should be curious about the things of the world."

Thorne tossed his hands up in defeat. "My meeting is with the captain of the guard to decide what needs to be done in the village first."

"And what is to be done about the seed? We can't let the people starve."

"I have been thinking of that too and the only thing I can come up with is to buy some from a nearby village. It needs to be done right away before the planting season is over," he said thoughtfully as a darkness fell over his features.

Aspen swallowed hard. "I could go to Rosehill and offer to buy some."

"I don't think that is a good idea. I want nothing to do with St. Michael. How would it look if I sent you in there to buy seed for the crops of his enemy?"

"Don't you feel that the feud is over?"

"St. Michael said he would be back to claim this land. The captain said he rode off when he knew he would lose. He may have had a chance if we hadn't known ahead of time," he wiped his mouth with his hand and sat back in his chair to pat his full belly.

"Then if he thinks he will come again, would he want tenants that had no crops to provide his purse with coin?"

Thorne thought a moment. The girl was right. If he sent her, the earl may not oppose her, being one of his own. Then, he would think he would be helping his own cause. She was brilliant!

"I will bring it up to Cappy."

"Who is that?"

"My Captain of the guard. I have always called him that. It stuck."

Mary bustled into the hall.

"Yes, Mary?" Thorne asked.

"'Scuse me, m'lord. Miss Chloe is comin' up the drive."

"Thank you. Please show her to the library."

Aspen stood. "I will see you later? You will fill me in on your meeting, will you not?"

"I will come to you later," he replied in a near whisper.

Aspen nodded and left him sitting at the table by himself.

Chloe was an older woman with plump cheeks that were beginning to wrinkle, her eyes were vivid color of an evergreen and when she smiled, her crow's feet accentuated their cheeriness. Her lips were thin and her graying hair was twisted on top of her head. Her dress bespoke her talent, cut of the finest fabrics and of the latest fashion. Her plump hands were full of gestures as she spoke to Aspen about the different types and weaves she had brought. She pulled loose many fabrics to choose from out of her trunks. Aspen could only imagine how the silks, satins, velvets and brocades would feel against her skin.

Chloe measured Aspen's body and held up fabrics as if to test the colors. She held up a bright blue the color of the sky on a rare sunny day. Aspen loved it, but Chloe shook her head in disagreement.

"Darling, it makes you appear ill. It takes from the beauty of your eyes and makes your face too pale. I think the pinks and the peaches look the best and I think...Ah, yes... Here is a dramatic green velvet. This will make a most lovely ball gown."

"Ball gown? I had no idea Thorne was purchasing this many dresses," Aspen breathed in embarrassment.

"He told me to completely redo your wardrobe, dear. From shifts and chemises to the most lavish of ball gowns. He failed to mention a wedding gown. Do you have your own? Your mother's perhaps?"

Aspen's blood drained from her face. What should she say? "Uh, something like that."

"Mayhap I could see it and make some changes on it. Just to give it a more modern flair," she added quickly.

"I would love that, but I have not yet received it. My mother and siblings are to come for a visit soon and mayhap she will bring it then," she lied. Mentally she crossed herself and begged forgiveness for the lie.

"Well, when you decide to, I will be happy to help. I think we are done here, I will go to my room and begin working on these for you."

Aspen hated the sound in her voice and her sudden need to depart. She must know that Thorne had no intention of marrying her.

"Oh, Chloe, if you wouldn't mind, I would absolutely love a nightdress in the blue. It wouldn't matter if it was the wrong color for me or not, because the candles would always be burned out before Thorne would see it, right?"

Chloe grabbed at her chest and flushed. "Oh my," she breathed. She said not another word, but took her things and left. Aspen silently reveled in her small victory.

Aspen requested her evening meal be brought up to her room. She found a book of poetry in the library and was enjoying the reading in the ring of light that was shed by a candle she had lit in the growing darkness. She decided to dress in her nightrail and read the remainder of the evening. Thorne hadn't come up to check on her so she assumed he was still busy. She thought she heard footsteps in her room, but the gloominess prevented her from seeing very clearly.

"Thorne? Is that you?" she called out. She heard a light whistle, like an arrow on the wind...

A loud crack sounded beside her head. Fear closed around her chest and forced the air out of her lungs in a loud scream. Before she knew what she had screamed about, Thorne was bursting through the door, his sword in his hands. Without meaning to she began to laugh and cry at the same time. She turned her head to the find the source of the loud crack and spied a dagger sticking out from the bedpost beside her head. Her laughter turned to nothing but tears she couldn't control.

Thorne circled her room checking the corners and behind the tapestries and the darkness of her dressing room. He ran back to her side, dropped his sword to the floor, and scooped her into his embrace. She was shaking like a frightened animal and sobs of fear wracked her body. She was so afraid she couldn't breathe and gulped at the air. She clung to his silk shirt as if he was the Lord Almighty there to protect her. He stroked her head and hugged her some more. When she had calmed herself down, he tried to get some answers.

"Did you see who it was?"

"No, I thought it was you. It sounded like the footsteps were coming from the dressing room," she replied. "The next thing I knew, there was a whistle and then the loud crack against the bedpost. That is when I screamed. I am so glad you came so quickly."

"I promise I will find who did this and they will suffer greatly. At least you are all right...I am so glad you are."

He tilted her head up to see her eyes that were pleading with him to keep her safe. It suddenly grew very warm on her bed, and he allowed his lips to come to hers and join in the heat of compassion. She tasted as sweet as she looked and as much as he had imagined she would. It was almost too much for him to handle. Her lips were so soft against his and tasted of the salt of her tears. He knew if he went any further, he would not be able to stop himself and he wanted to be easy with her. He had to find out who did this to her and fast, before it could happen again and the marksman did not miss.

He pulled back and whispered. "I am going to have Cappy guard you. He will have to be in here with you since you think they came through the hidden door."

"Who would know about the door?"

"Oh, it is not a secret anymore. These doors are so widely used, that anyone looking for it would find it."

"Okay, who might use the door for a certain purpose on a nearly daily basis?"

"The maids would, but we each have our own and they have no business using it now. This room has been empty for twenty-two years. No one needs access to this room."

"Of course they don't need access, they want to kill me! They want access and they are serious!"

"Calm down, I will find out who it is. Cappy I trust. He likes you."

"He hasn't met me."

"True, but he knows you from what I have done to describe you to him. He smiled, and Cappy doesn't smile." he mused.

Aspen snorted in disbelief. "I think you are the only one who can protect me. I don't trust anyone. I don't know anyone. As far as I am concerned, it could be Miss Chloe!"

Thorne tried not to laugh, but it failed him anyway. Aspen reached out and playfully socked him in the shoulder. "How dare you laugh at me!"

Thorne threw his arm around her and hugged her tightly.

"So, what happened in your meeting?" Aspen asked turning her face to his.

"Well, we made the plans to get new and cleaner wells built. We talked about having a center in the village. I want to have a fountain and a small garden of roses in the center of a group of businesses. We also talked about thatching roofs and adding space to the homes. New outhouses will be constructed and the docks will be repaired. New storage compartments will be built as well," he claimed proudly.

Aspen's eyes lit with delight. "All this will mean so much to the people. I hope you know that. I want to help make this happen, I can plant the garden or help thatch. Anything I can do, I will."

"As much as I want to tell you to stay put under lock and key, I cannot. You will be with me or Cappy at all times, do you understand me?"

"You don't have to worry. I will be happy to be at your side," she whispered.

"Now, I need to question my staff. I want to find out who did this little stunt. I will send for Cappy right now and I will be back soon. Stay put; I mean it."

Aspen grabbed his sleeves. "You can't leave me here alone! Even in the short time it will take to come back, they could be waiting in another room down the hall to try again!"

"Slow down, there. If it will make you feel better, I will send Mary to fetch Cappy. Is that better?"

A long gush of breath rushed from her lungs and she closed her eyes. "Yes, that is much better. Thank you, Thorne."

He pulled the cord beside Aspen's bed to alert Mary that she was needed and set out pacing in front of the fireplace. Mary hurried in shortly after and glanced uneasily around the room.

"You called, m'lord?" she curtsied.

"Mary, I need you to fetch Cappy back here very quickly. Then, I want you to get a fire for my lady going so she will not catch her death of the cold! I pay you to keep her comfortable and it makes me angry when I see that she doesn't even have a fire to keep her warm!"

Mary kept her gaze to the floor. "I am very sorry, m'lord. Cook asked me to help in the kitchen and I lost track o' time." She moved her eyes to her mistress. "I apologize, m'lady. 'Twas not my intention to let ye freeze."

Aspen smiled warmly. She wanted her to know she didn't blame her but she dared not contradict Thorne. Another part of her danced when he was worried about her and came to her defense. Mary returned her smile and rushed from the room.

"Do you perhaps think you were a tad harsh, my lord?" she asked him with a grin.

"Mayhap a wee bit. But on the other hand, she was letting you freeze."

"I have lit many a fire in my day. I am sure I could handle one more," she toyed playfully.

Thorne chuckled deep in his throat. Lord, how she amused him! She could make the sun shine on a stormy day and she could make flowers grow in the dead of winter. Aspen only had to look at him and his defenses went weak; she only had to smile and the devil would disappear. She could make him feel the honest emotions he had hidden for so long and she had made his far away pain come out and fade into the love he felt for her. Yes, the only way he could explain his feelings was with the one word he had never used in his life. It was the only one that stayed on the tip of his tongue all day and night...love.

A loud knock sounded on the heavy wooden door. It seemed to break the spell that the evening faeries were weaving around them. Thorne stood straight and swallowed fighting the urge to say what was there to be said. How he felt, how everything had changed with her presence. He opened the door and there stood Cappy. He looked tired, but alert.

"I was told to come straight away, m'lord."

"Yes, Cappy. Aspen's life was nearly taken. I mean by mere inches. Come have a look at the dagger in the bed post."

Cappy spent some time grunting over the scene. Thorne interjected and told him his plans of protection.

"I want you to stand guard during the nights. Even if I was in here, I would not be able to see who it was approaching until it was too late. As my most trusted guard, I expect you to be alert enough to keep a mental note about who is visiting this chamber. I want you to inspect any food for signs of poison- wine as well. The door to my chamber will be locked. No one will have access to my rooms. Anyone caught trying to enter them will be interrogated. The assassin went through there to Aspen's and launched the attack from there." he explained pointing to the dressing area.

"You can count on me, my lord. I will keep her safe. But, what about the daytime?"

"She will not leave my side. If I must depart from her, I will trust her in your care. Now, Aspen, I expect you to obey my requests and stay put or be with me until this person is caught."

"I understand, my lord. But surely this person would not try it again as long as I am guarded, do you think? They would have to know you would do this for some time to come."

"I am not ready to be responsible for your death." He hated his words as he heard himself say them. The hurt in her eyes almost did him in.

"So, my lord, when exactly will you be ready? Or is this your plan? You did confess to planning to take my life. Am I exactly where you want me? A vulnerable nobody that no one would miss?"

At that moment, he would have been better off if he plucked the dagger from her bed and stabbed it into his chest. Cappy shifted nervously and Thorne was at a loss of words. Cappy cleared his throat and took his new post outside her door. Thorne kept staring into her eyes, trying to put his words in order before he spoke them. Her smile had faded and she sat there staring back at him waiting for his explanation. Thorne closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He jammed a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of her bed. Instinctively, she pulled her blankets up to her chin and moved away from him a tad. Thorne reached out and took her hand in his. He marveled at her softness, which made his blood boil with desire.

"Aspen," he began. "I honestly did not mean it the way it sounded. I meant that I do not ever want to be responsible for your death and that I do not want you to be apart from me...especially in death. You have changed my life drastically in the few days you have been with me and I don't know what I will ever do without you. I know you think badly of me...and my past, but you are the only thing that is good in my life. What can I do to make it up to you? You only have to ask."

"Thorne, I don't know what to feel or how to react anymore. It seems that in everything I do, I do the wrong thing or say the wrong word. That was how it was at home and that is how it will be here. No one needs a person like me when there are better women out there. I can't blame you for feeling like you needed to kill me to keep me quiet. I can, however, offer again the solution to the problems you face as the earl of this village. Mayhap we can do something good until you have made up your mind about whether or not you want me. I have been doing a lot of thinking and I want to go to the Earl of Rosehill and offer to buy some seed."

Thorne was shaking his head in protest. Aspen held up her hand to silence his comments. "Where else are we going to get enough seed as quickly as we need it? I can ask about my family and calm my fears for my brother and sister. It will make you a hero to your people, it will be in time for planting and most important, you and your people will not starve this winter."

"I will not have you go to that man and beg to buy from his stores. I cannot allow it, Aspen. That is much greater a request than I had bargained for. It sounds plausible in conversation, but I just cannot beg them..." Thorne sighed, sounding so defeated.

Aspen grasped his gaze with her own once again and quietly offered her own logic. "Will not the greatest revenge against St. Michael be developing a better community? Being much more successful than he is? Creating a happiness that no other can with people who are loyal to you because they respect you as their leader...would that not make you feel more the man? Please do not let your pride rob these people of the basic necessities."

Lord, if she was not right again!

"I don't know where you get the idea that you say the wrong thing when everything that has come out of your mouth since you have been here has been the right thing. You have made me a different person, one that I didn't know existed anymore. I feel like a child, carefree and...happy. You are the one for me and your loyalty to my people touches my heart. If you think St. Michael will bend, I will let you try. Don't push him though and don't give him any information. You are the most extraordinary of women. Don't you ever forget that," Thorne said softly as he smoothed her auburn tresses with his hand.

She smiled a small smile and sighed. "So, when can we go?"

"I will plan the trip for seven days hence. That will give Chloe some time to get a couple of dresses finished. I can't send you in there without proper dress."

Aspen laughed aloud.

"What is so funny? Did something happen while Chloe was here?"

"There was this amazing blue fabric that I so desperately wanted a dress from, but she was saying how I would look ill in it. She was ready to leave my room and I asked her for a nightrail in the blue since you wouldn't be able to tell I looked ill with the candles out!!" she held her ribs as she went on in her hysterics. Thorne still wasn't sure what she was laughing about and then a flash of Chloe came to his mind and he imagined her embarrassed, her face red and her eyes shocked and he began to laugh too.

When the merriment died down, Thorne stood to bid her a goodnight.

Her smile disappeared and worry etched her face. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't, but I need to check to be sure my door is locked. I will be right back."

Mary came back in and set about to lighting the fire and getting it to blaze well so it would last the night. Thorne disappeared into the inkiness of the dressing room.

"Can I get ye somethin' else, m'lady?" Mary asked.

"Go get you some sleep, Mary. And it is Aspen! You don't have to be so formal."

Mary nodded her head and bobbed a curtsy and left. Thorne came back into the room surrounded in blankets, holding pillows in his hands. He looked as if he had been rolled up in his bedcovers! He proceeded to spread out his bedding before the fire on top of a soft carpet.

"Thorne, what are you doing?" she asked in wonder.

"Aspen, I don't think I could last another night sleeping next to you and not ravish you. I will sleep on the floor, thank you."

Aspen blushed a bright crimson. "Thorne, is that not why you brought me here? Is that not why you will send my family coin to live on?"

"Please don't remind me of my dishonorable intentions. I am happy that you are willing, but I do not intend on taking you just yet. Lie down and get some rest. I will see you in the morn."

They both flopped down in their beds and drifted off to sleep.

Aspen tossed and turned before she fell asleep and when she did, she dreamed. She was standing in an unfamiliar place and suddenly a blackness began to descend upon her. She turned and ran away from it, but her legs were so slow. In the distance, she could see Thorne but he was so far away and the blackness was catching her, melting everything behind her into nothing and it wanted her to be nothing too. She began to get closer to Thorne when something tripped her and she fell. The blackness sped toward her and as it swallowed her up, she couldn't tell whether or not Thorne was wearing an expression of sadness or happiness. Then all was dark and very frightening. Hands were touching her, but no people were there that she could see. They tugged her arms and legs, pulled her hair and settled over her mouth and nose. She couldn't breathe and she struggled to get away.

Aspen bolted upright in her bed and a small but sharp scream escaped her. Her breath came fast and her heart thumped in her chest. Thorne was there beside her and began to rub her back to calm her. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks. Thorne reached up and smoothed it back out of her face. He whispered words of comfort until her breathing came at a normal pace and the silent tears ceased to fall.

"I'm sorry, Thorne. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

"Bad dream or no, I am here for you. I will not rest until you go back to sleep."

He brushed his lips across hers lightly.

"There. You have been graced with Thorne's Magical Kiss of Happy Dreaming. Now, lie back down and rest. Let all the demons escape and only the angels stay."

She blessed him with a smile and did as she was told. Seconds later she was in a deeper state of sleep, the dreamless kind where nothing bad could touch a person.

Morning dawned too early for Aspen. She rolled onto her back and stretched in the sunlight. She rubbed at her eyes to clear them of the lasting fogginess of sleep and squinted in the morning sun. Radiant beams of light filled her room through her window, a sight she was very unaccustomed to. Nearly every day was the same, gray and bleak. Today was an exception of those days and she bounced out of bed being filled with vigor by the beautiful morning. Mary was readying her bath in the spot where Thorne had been. Thorne! Where was he now? He seemed to disappear at the worst of times. She had looked forward to seeing his face and saying good morn to him. But, he was gone and her bath was ready. She sighed deeply and allowed Mary to slip off her nightrail.

"His lordship wanted me to tell ye that he will see you later this morn. Cappy is to stay wi' ye and take ye to 'im after ye break your fast. He has a surprise for you!" she bubbled as she washed Aspen's back and started on her hair.

"What is this surprise?"

"I know not, m'lady."

"Aspen!"

"My apologies, Aspen. I's just used to formalities."

"There is no reason to be formal with me, Mary. I am a woman, just like you are."

Mary couldn't believe her ears. A noblewoman was calling herself an equal. But then again, Mary wasn't so sure she was a noble. Nevertheless, it was refreshing to spend her time serving such a woman, noble or not.

Aspen dressed in a simple gown of golden yellow with a green ribbon at her waist and her hair was braided and piled on the crown of her head. She felt as good as a breath of fresh air and looked as fresh as warm bread, warm and soft and inviting.

She opened her door and Cappy stood from his chair and began to follow her down the stairs and into the great hall for a meal of fruit and pastries.

"What do you know of this surprise, Cappy?"

He stammered a bit before spitting it out. "I know absolutely nothing, m'lady."

Aspen smiled at him. "I admire you for your loyalty to him. It is just that I am so curious."

"I understand, m'lady. All I know is that he wants to take your mind off of your troubles. That is it...I swear!" he professed adamantly causing his long, red beard to bob up and down.

Aspen laughed. "I am sure it is. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me!"

Cappy visibly relaxed. He found it hard to believe that she had almost been killed and still she sat here and was joking with him about surprises. She was remarkable and the best thing for Thorne.

After they finished and washed their hands, Cappy led her out through the overgrown gardens and to the stables where the carriage sat hitched to the horses and Thorne was shoving a heavy basket into the cab. His face lit up like a candle lights the darkness when he saw her coming, looking so radiant. He strode to meet them and took her hand.

"I thank you, Cappy," he said low and sincere.

"She is a special one, Thorne. Now you two be careful, but have a grand time," he smiled.

Thorne led her to the waiting carriage and helped her inside. She took her seat next to the basket and homespun blanket. Thorne took his own seat and tapped on the ceiling with his cane to signal that they were ready to depart.

The horse's hooves clip-clopped through the courtyard and over the drawbridge pulling them behind.

"So, m'lord, where is it that we are going? Are we getting started on the village this soon? It is a marvelous idea! There are not many nice days like this one. It would be a joy to work in the sun and not the rain!"

"Well, my dear, we are not going to work this day. This is too fine a day to waste on working. It is a day to bask in the blessed sunshine and have fun. We will be busy enough working on the village in the days to come."

Aspen smiled. "How thoughtful you are, m'lord. Where are we going to bask?"

"That is the surprise. It is a place I don't go to very often but a place I thought you would enjoy. Close your eyes and savor the surprise."

She did as she was bid and closed her eyes. The strange thing was the fact that without her eyes, her ears seemed to hear every sound and she felt every bump. The sound of waves crashing filled her ears and made her heart beat to its rhythm. The smell of salt water and fish invaded her nostrils. The carriage was sloping downward and she nearly slid from her seat. It evened out again and came to a stop.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" she begged.

"Not yet. Not until I help you down. No peeking now!"

She laughed and it felt as if he were gone. The door on the other side of the carriage opened and the blanket and basket were removed.

"Thorne! Where are you?" she yelled.

"I am right here. You don't have to yell," he joked. "I just had to set things up first. Give me your hands. That's right. Here is the doorway. I am going to let go of you to take your waist to get you down. No peeking!"

"I am not peeking!" She was still laughing. It was so exciting receiving surprises. She loved every minute of it. She took in giant breaths of the fresh air and felt as if she were floating as Thorne lifted her to the ground. Beneath her slippers the ground was strange. It was soft and gave way when she moved, yet it didn't feel sticky like mud.

"All right, you can open them now." Thorne said.

Aspen let her lids open and the sight she beheld was the best thing ever. The ocean. She had never in her life been to the ocean. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes soaked up every inch of the landscape. She marveled at the sand and its softness and the waves crashing onto the beach forming fingers of foam and then receding back into the gigantic body of water to have a new wave pound the sand. She saw the blanket outstretched on the sand in the sun and the basket perched on top. She walked, awkwardly at first, to the blanket and opened the basket to find cheeses and breads and some dried meats along with a bottle of wine. She knitted her brow and looked to Thorne who was beaming at her.

"Where are the cups?" she asked.

Thorne let out a deep roaring laugh. "Unless you fear you will come down with the plague, you can share the bottle with me." Aspen joined in his laughter.

"May I go look around?" she asked. "I have never seen the ocean before or stood on a beach. I want to kick off my shoes and run with the sand between my toes and the breeze in my hair!"

"Let's both go. I can show you historic places of my childhood."

They both left their shoes behind and Aspen tied her skirts into knots to keep them above her ankles. Thorne removed his stockings and his shirt so the sun could kiss his skin.

Aspen sprinted toward the water and Thorne followed, catching her by the waist before she waded in. She gave a squeal of protest.

"Don't get your clothes wet yet. I plan on being here for the entire day, and I'd hate for you to catch a chill and have to return early."

They strolled down the beach hand in hand collecting shells as they went. Thorne pulled her from the water and walked her closer to the cliffs. She noticed the rocks there were a deep red color.

"This is my hiding place from the battle that claimed my father and brother. This is where I bled all night wondering if I would die."

Aspen touched the rocks and half expected to have blood on her fingertips. But it was an illusion.

"I am so sorry, Thorne. I had no idea. Seeing this makes it so much more real to me. Thank you for showing me this for I am sure it is hard for you to come and stare at the remnants of your suffering."

"It feels good to share it and get it out of me. I have let it kill me inside and it left me with anger and grief. You have helped me to bring it forward and share it and in turn share your pain."

"When I am with you, I feel none of the pain of my past."

They continued on and came to a place in the cliff where a tree was growing out of the rocks. It seemed to Aspen that it should not have thrived, but it was a huge tree, the kind she had never seen before, and was very strong.

"This is where I would play as a small boy. I played alone because my brother was always training and my sister was too young. None of the boys in the village wanted to play with me, so I would climb this tree and sit in the tops watching the people down on the beach. Why don't we climb it together?"

"Now? How can I climb a tree in a gown?"

"Close your eyes and remember being a child without a care in the world. I know you had to have climbed a tree or two in your day. Did you care what you were wearing? I think not. You thought only about making it to the top."

A power seemed to penetrate her body and gave her a sense of adventure. She nodded her head.

"Let's go!"

Thorne gave her a boost up and she grabbed the first branch. She swung herself up and scrambled over the next. Thorne was right behind her. The branches were soft and green and the budding leaves smelled of springtime. Up they went until Thorne stopped her.

"Here is my spot. This was the branch I sat on to watch from afar." He sat and pulled her onto his lap.

Aspen marveled at the view. She could see for days out on the ocean. She spied the blanket and the basket that seemed so very small. It was a sight she would always remember.

They sat admiring the scenery, trying to catch their breath as something akin to love grew between them. Thorne hugged her to him tightly and planted a peck of a kiss on her cheek.

"I can't believe you climbed up with your leg as it is."

"It isn't so bad to climb a tree. Walking and running are worse."

"Oh! I made you run with me! Are you okay?"

"It was all worth it." The truth was, he hurt like he hadn't in a very long time.

Aspen placed her hands on his face and set her lips upon his. Thorne was taken aback but responded quickly to her affections. He deepened the kiss and she instinctively parted her lips for him and his tongue met hers in a dance of innocence. He thought she would retaliate and break from him, but she did not. Their breathing had not a chance of slowing. Aspen let a small moan escape her and it spurred Thorne on into the throes of passion and lust. He was as hard as the branch of the tree, but he could not take her in the treetops. He broke from her and studied her face. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were glassy. Her breathing came in long, deep breaths.

"I feel I must stop before I go too far. I can't exactly take your virginity on a tree branch. Let us climb back down and have some refreshment and then we can explore our options."

She bit her lower lip and nodded in agreement. She was terrified of losing her maidenhead, but the want to express her feelings for him was greater. She felt she could give him her devotion and love.

Rayven suddenly appeared in her mind. What was he doing at that very moment? Was he thinking of her? Did he even know she was gone? Could she ever love Thorne the way she knew she loved Rayven? She had spent much more time with Thorne now. She surely had to know him better. But the way the lightening struck her the first time she saw Rayven did not compare to any feelings she had for Thorne. The thought of seeing Rayven again made her heart race and her knees weak. The thought of losing her maidenhead to Thorne actually terrified her. She had accepted it as her lot in life, but the time she had spent with Thorne led her to believe that he didn't want to ruin her for the one she would marry...if it was not to be him. Rayven was like a warm spring day and Thorne was the dank winter in comparison, yet she knew in her heart of hearts that Rayven would never want her as a wife, so Thorne was the next best thing. He was kind and sensitive under the dark facade and he seemed to genuinely care for her. What more could she want? Rayven.

"Where were you just now?" Thorne asked.

"Nowhere, just thinking about decisions I have to make," she replied thoughtfully.

"I had no intention of scaring you, Aspen. I will not force you to be intimate with me. I want it to be a mutual decision. When you are truly ready, I will be too. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, Thorne. I thank you for your sensitivity. I care for you, really, I do. I just want it to be more than that, I suppose. Mayhap I will never have that," she sighed.

"Mayhap it will, my lady. Mayhap."

Aspen smiled at his understanding and the thought that she may have a church wedding and love in her life after all. But it would take time to break down his defenses enough for him to consider taking her to wife.

Thorne reached up and lifted her effortlessly to the sandy beach. He took her slender hand in his and smiled...it felt amazing to let yourself love someone unconditionally. He wanted to marry her and protect her and let her enrich his life some more. But more than anything, he dreaded the day when he would have to separate from her either to let her move on or in death. If life had felt this good in the past, he would never have become the person he was. If he had had her close to him as a young lad, he would have been the way she wanted him to be, all sweet and loving and compassionate. Just the way she was.

"Now, where were _you_?" she smiled up at him.

He cleared his throat to hide the eminent emotion that threatened to take over him.

"Just thinking of you and how lucky I am that your father is a bastard."

He cringed as he said it, but to his surprise, she laughed long and loud.

"It has all been like a fairy tale being here. I guess I can say the same thing. If it weren't for him, I would still be that shell of a person I was before you came for me. You rescued the damsel in distress, my lord." She feigned a dramatic sigh and clutched at her heart acting as though she would swoon. "My hero!"

He laughed then and tried to tickle her ribs. She squealed with delight and ran as fast as she could to the blanket. She held up her hands in surrender and fought to control her giggles. Thorne dropped to the blanket and opened the basket to pull out the food. Aspen grabbed the wine and popped the cork open. She took a long swig to wet her dry throat. She could feel the sweat beading on her brow and her chest. It was the hottest day in a very long time. It was perfect weather that was forgotten about with all of the fog and rain that greeted each morning. She ate some bread and cheese until she was sated and then she flopped back in the heat and adored the feel of the sun of her face. She could hear Thorne eating and she popped her eyes open when the noises ceased. He was watching her lie there as if she were the most precious of gemstones that would disappear if he touched it.

"What?" she asked.

"You will never know how beautiful you are. It is moments like this I feel I need to let another man more worthy have you. And yet, I would die without you."

She hoped the blush that crept into her face looked like the sun had flushed her skin. But his words touched a place deep within that had never been discovered before. To hide her embarrassment, she jumped up.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am too hot to sit here any longer. Would you join me for a wade in the water now?"

"Go ahead. I will put this food away and then I will be there in a moment." He swiped his lips over hers softly and granted her a dazzling smile.

She turned to the water and ran to where the surf was pounding in on the beach. She yelped in delight over how cold the water felt against her skin. The ocean seemed to pull at her as it receded back to make room for the next wave to swallow her feet. She could feel Thorne's eyes on her and she turned around to find him smiling after her. She waved to him and picked up her skirts to her knees and waded in further. The cold took her breath away and numbed her legs. She dug her toes into the wet sand beneath her feet and marveled at the feeling of mud squishing between her toes again. She had not done anything like this for years and it was so relaxing. She chewed her lower lip and lifted her skirts nearly to her bottom and kept walking. Again, she turned to see Thorne and he was walking toward her with his shirt off. Without thinking, she dropped the bundled fabric in her hands and before she knew it, her dress was soaked to the waist. She laughed and held her arms out to him and suddenly the look on his face changed and he began to run. He was yelling at her, but she couldn't hear him. She turned back to the water and rising before her was a wave a good five heads taller than she and was beginning to crash down upon her head. She screamed out in fear as the water swatted at her as she swatted at flies. She lost her footing and the air in her lungs was pushed from her in a rush of bubbles. She couldn't feel the bottom anymore and she couldn't find the surface. She tried to open her eyes and the salt in the water stung horribly. She felt as though she were being sucked into the deep depths of the mighty ocean. She wanted to breathe, water or air it didn't matter. She could feel her heart slowing and her chest was burning with the need for air. Fear gripped her and she fought to find the way up. She swam one way and the other way. She could not die here, not alone in the darkness. She stopped fighting and hoped she would float to the top of the water, but she seemed to stay there not going anywhere. The darkness overcame her and the need to breathe took over. She could feel the tiny bubbles of the air left in her come out through her nose and whisper across her face. She allowed her lungs to expand and take in the water as they wanted to do. She could hear nothing but the dull thud of her heart beating before it too became silent.

Thorne had seen it coming, the afternoon tide was flooding in. The wave had been upon her before he could react and then, she was gone. He had yelled at her to come out of the water, but he had been too far. Lord, but he should have been there beside her in the first place. What a fool he was to let her go into the water alone!

He reached the water's edge and wasted no time diving in after her. He hadn't seen her resurface and he knew the current was taking her to sea. He came up for air and called out her name. No answer. He was running out of time and he needed to find her. He dove in again and headed for the open ocean waters. Her hair brushed his hand. He almost screamed his relief and turned around to grab her, but he came away with only some seaweed. He let it go and headed back to the top for a gulp of air. He called for her again, but she was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. She had to be here, but he could not find her. He dove again and went lower than he had ever gone before. He swam side to side to cover the ground more evenly. He bumped into something cold and soft. It took him a moment to get visions of sharks and other beasts out of his mind and he stuck his hands out to explore what he found. He could feel cloth in his hands and he found her face. He wasted no more time, grabbed her around the waist and propelled them to the fresh air. He broke the water gasping and coughing, but she was like a rock. Her skirts were tangled around her and were heavy. Thorne found it hard to keep her above the water because her dress wanted to drag her back under. Her head flopped around and her lips were blue. All the warmth and life she had earlier was gone. Now, she was as cold as the ocean itself and as lifeless as a flower out of water. He reached land and rolled her onto her belly. It was distended as if she had eaten too much. He pushed on her back and water gushed from her mouth and nose. She was white as a ghost and her mouth and fingers were purple. The water kept coming in loud massive gushes, but she wouldn't cough.

"Live! You have done this before. Remember when you were a new babe fighting to get air for the first time! Help me push it out of you and cough, damn it! Come on, darling. Breathe! I have you in the air now. Do you feel the sand? You are where you should be now. God, help me! Don't you take her from me now! For once let something good stay in my life and make me feel I have a purpose! You let her live, and I will go to mass every day and I will make it a priority to my villagers to praise your name. But, I need her the way she needs to breathe right now. Without her I am dead. I am dead!" He cried to the heavens. Wetness other than salt water streamed down his face and fell onto her back to amalgamate with the water that took her from him. She was dead. Once again, God allowed another he loved to be taken from him.

He screamed his fury at the sky and lifted her in his arms. His physician would know what to do. Or his Priest could bring her back. He was out of time and needed to get to the castle. He whistled loudly for his driver and not even glancing back at the basket and blanket, he ran to the carriage and placed her inside. The driver's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open at the site of this spirited young lady that had left her mark on them all. She was so limp and lifeless and tears welled in his eyes.

"Stop staring and get her home!" he bellowed.

"Aye, m'lord!"

The horses seemed to know it was urgent for they spurred forward as if Lucifer was running after them.

As they entered the courtyard, Thorne was screaming for Cappy and his physician and his priest. Cappy was the first to respond to his cries thinking his master and friend was injured. He skidded his heavy girth to a halt when he saw Thorne carrying his lady. She looked dead and by the look on Thorne's face, she indeed was.

"What has happened, m'lord?" Cappy exclaimed.

"She was caught in the tide and pulled out. She never came to the surface when I saw the water take a hold of her. It took me an eternity to find her. I pumped the water from her and she still will not cough!"

Cappy took her slight form in his arms and turned her away from him. He circled his mighty arms around her middle and heaved with all his strength. She flew up into the air and the sound of breaking bones rent the air.

"God's boots!" Thorne swore. "What the hell are you doing to her? She is dead; you don't need to break her up too!"

"Beg pardon, Thorne. I have saved many a seaman lying on the beach after a wreck. It isn't a gentle thing. If you want her a chance to breathe again, let me be!"

Thorne knew not to challenge him. Being his friend, he only used his given name if he was warning him to back off. More water spewed forth and the food she had eaten came too. More bones cracked and he hoped she didn't bleed to death inside if she did live again. He turned away and sank both hands into his hair. He leaned against the castle wall and the tears flowed again. The hole in his chest where his heart used to pump out his love for her was empty and pained. The physical pain was nearly more than he could bear.

A gigantic cough followed by a tremendous belch caught him up out of his grief and he spun to see her in Cappy's arms gasping for air. She sounded as if it were the most painful thing she had ever endured...Labored, rasping breaths were dragged into her body. The product of which were wet, racking coughs to expel the remainder of the water. She gagged and vomited and went unconscious once again. Cappy put his ear to her chest and a wide grin brightened his brawny features.

"The lass's heart beats once again. And, she breathes," he announced.

Thorne took her from the big man and carried her to her rooms. As he half ran through the castle, the concern of the staff followed him and they were shouting at him for orders and how to help her. He let their voices all bounce off of him and he placed Aspen upon her bed. He turned and walked to the door, instructed Patty, the cook, to direct the doctor and the priest to Aspen's room, and shut the door on the noise. He returned his attention to this beautiful woman and he placed his own ear to her chest and listened for sounds confirming that life was once again flowing through her body, that her soul had returned to enhance his existence once again. Her heart was beating very faintly, but it was beating. Her breathing was shallow, but it was there.

The door swung open again and the castle priest stood in the doorway staring at his lordship with his head on her breasts. He cleared his throat and Thorne bolted upright, took note of the holy man and beamed like a child with a handful of sweets.

"She breathes! Ha, ha! She will live!" He hit the floor on his knees, clasped his hands together and cried to God. "Thank you for sparing her life on my behalf, my Lord Almighty! My vow to you will not be forgotten!"

Father Goodson watched in utter disbelief as the most unruly lamb of his flock was praising God on high. He smiled in thinking Thorne could ever be religious. He was a good man...he only needed to find that in himself. From what he had heard of this girl, she was making him see that goodness in himself after all these years.

He walked to his side and rested his hand upon Thorne's shoulder. "Tis good to hear those words, my son. But what of this vow you have made with God?"

Thorne looked up into the solemn face of the godly man. The hood of his cloak was brushed back to reveal his bald head and his neatly trimmed beard the white of snow that made his crystal blue eyes more prominent. Thorne remembered going to him as a boy to confess his misgivings and shortcomings. How he had aged since then.

"I told God that His word and service would become the priority of my people, and myself."

"I am so happy, my son."

"Could I beg of you to place a blessing of recovery on her head? She is still so weak."

"Of course. First, why don't you have her maid dress her in warm clothing and I will be just outside the door. You can wait with me," he hinted at the immorality of seeing a woman not yet joined to him in marriage while unclothed.

"Actually, Father, I wish to tend her myself. I want to be near her in the event she wakes. I don't want her maid to be the one to see her awake for the first time." A twinkle in his eyes jested with the holy man. "I promise not to look at what is not yet mine and my hands will mind their manners."

Father Goodson had not seen him happy in many a year. It brought a smile to his lips that reached his eyes and made them sparkle again as well. He had seen it many times before; this lord had lost his head to love.

### Chapter 5

Father Goodson crossed himself and tried to eradicate his smile over Thorne's jest, an immoral jest, and took his leave to the hallway as the physician made a swift entrance to the room. Thorne was unfastening her wet gown so gently...this was the man who was so hard and unfeeling, but with this girl he acted as though she were made of cobwebs and would disintegrate beneath the hardest of touches. Aspen's body was shaking violently from the cold, confirming she was no longer dead. Cappy had fetched Dr. Love and had relayed to him what had happened as he grabbed his bag of instruments and ran as fast as he could from across the castle.

Mary snuck in, struck up a blazing fire and fetched her lord a nightdress for her lady. His care and concern brought tears to her eyes. Never, even when she was young, had she seen him in this state of affection. He peeled the dress from her arms as he held her head like a newborn babe. He laid her back down on her pillow and slipped the gown the rest of the way off leaving her in her shift...her chin was trembling from the cold. As Thorne was outfitting her in her nightdress, Mary set three blankets at the fire to warm. Thorne had pulled her arms back through the sleeves and had, once again, set her upon her pillows. He pulled her sheet and coverlet up to her chin. Mary took the first warm blanket and pulled back her covers again to place the warm blanket against her and then covered her back up. She took the next blanket and laid it on the top of all of the blankets, for extra warmth and finally, she filled an ewer of water and placed it and its basin next to the bed on a small table from the dressing room. She warmed a small towel and placed it around her hair, wrapping her head in the heat of the fire. Her color was beginning to return again as the blankets warmed the blood within her.

Doctor Stewart Love set his bag down beside the bed and rummaged through. He chose his favorites and laid them out on the table next to the water. He sat on the edge of the bed where Thorne had been and began his examination. He felt her skin, opened her eyes and checked how they responded to the light, he tested the uncontrollable reflexes that everyone had, he listened to her heart and to her breathing. He put his finger in her hand and commanded her to squeeze his finger as tightly as she could. There was no response.

*******

Everything was so dark but she knew she was not alone. If she were dead, there were no promised gates of heaven, or the brimstone of hell. Only darkness. She could hear shouting and people running about. Then, her insides burst into unbearable pain and the urge to be sick overwhelmed her and she wretched. She could feel the cold water leaving her body and the air trying to come in its stead. She found the strength to cough to help whoever it was that was crushing her ribs. She sounded so far away to her ears and more than anything, she wanted to curse the bloody fool that was hefting her in such a painful way, but she could not. She thought for a moment that she saw Thorne in front of her, and as suddenly as he appeared the darkness covered him up again. Her lungs inflated and burned at the coolness of the air sounding harsh and raspy in her head. She felt familiar arms around her and then her bed beneath her. Her form fit perfectly in the straw mattress where she had indented it from sleeping in the same place since she had been there. She was so cold and her limbs shook ferociously, but Thorne was there to make her warm again. She felt the air kiss her skin as her dress was removed and the softness of the fine lawn of her nightdress soothed some of the gooseflesh that prickled beneath. Then, an amazing warmth began to spread over her and a sweet heaviness seemed to surround her. She felt safe and finally warm. How she wanted to open her eyes and touch Thorne's face. She wanted to let him know how she felt and how she wanted to give all of herself. Life is too short to bicker and deny one's feeling for another. But, she was so very tired and her body felt so heavy. Someone began to poke at her and feel her. It was not Thorne's touch, but a precise and sterile touch. It became quiet all around her and she surrendered to the sleep that was tugging on her consciousness.

*******

Doctor Love motioned for Thorne to move away from her to speak in private.

"What did you find out?" he asked.

"She is there, but she is too weak to stay awake. Give her a couple of days and she will come around. But, there is another hump she must overcome and that will be the fever. After the fever is the coughing. It not a simple case of the sniffles, but an invasion of foreign substance that she will battle, and will have to win, to come out of this. I expect it will be many days before she is strong enough to even sit up or swallow. However, it is important that she take in nourishment so try spoonfuls broth and sips of water. Just keep her mouth moist. Keep plenty of cool water nearby and I hope her temperature does not soar too high. I will check in on her a few times a day and I want to be notified when she comes to. She has about six or seven cracked ribs from the amount of force Cappy played on her, but they should be much less painful when she is more on the mend. I have some herbs that will help with the pain should it be too unbearable for her." He clapped Thorne on his shoulder and smiled. "Take good care of her, boy."

Thorne smiled back at him and remembered the way he had always simply called him 'boy'. He nodded to dismiss the physician and turned back to where Aspen was bundled in her bed. She was no longer shivering and looked as though she had just fallen asleep for the night. He asked Mary to bring him something from the kitchen to quiet the rumble of his stomach. When the maid departed, Thorne sat beside Aspen on the bed. He found her hand under the blankets and covered it with his. He worked at willing his emotions to quiet and allow him some time with her without feeling guilt or grief. He swallowed the lump of sorrow in his throat and drew in a deep breath.

"Aspen..." he called to her. "Darling, I hope you can hear me. I want you to fight this with everything in you. The truth is, I need you as I have never needed another before. Imagining life without you is impossible to me. I can see myself holding your hand and kissing away your tears for all the years God has in store for me. I can even see us dancing in the clouds of heaven together. Leave the place you are in and come back to me. I know that sounds so selfish, even to my own ears, I sound pathetic, but I am nothing without you. I have been nothing my entire life and then you happened along and things have been so delightfully different and I never want them to stop. For when they do stop, I will know you are gone from me. Let me love you, protect you, and cherish you and our children forever more. Let me hold you close to my side and help the people in my village. God help me, but I need to fill my days and nights with your essence. Wake up now. I know you are strong and I know you can do this. Open your eyes and see that I am here. Grasp my hand to let me know you hear me. I want to know you can hear me when I tell you this...I love you with every last bit of strength in me. I have not said those words to anyone before. I know now that I have been saving them for you and only you. You open your eyes and heal and we will be married the moment you tell me you want to. Did you hear that? Show me you did, sweetheart. Squeeze my hand."

He stared at her for the longest of moments and it seemed that eternity sat in that room and time stood still. He wanted to feel a sign of life in her so badly, but it never came. She never even twitched. He buried his face in the blankets and sobbed excruciating, racking sobs. He didn't wait long enough to see the lone tear that fell from her eye and disappeared into her hair.

He was weary from crying and had no appetite any longer. He stood and looked at the tray of victuals that Mary had left. Nothing tempted his tongue, it just sat there appearing tasteless and unsatisfying. He strode to the gigantic fireplace and jabbed at the dying embers with the poker. Ashes flew and wood snapped in protest and a small flame began to burn again. He picked up a chunk of dry wood and set it atop the flame so it could begin to devour it and keep Aspen warm through the night.

He flopped himself into the chair by the hearth and pulled his boots from his tired, wet feet. He had not taken the time to change after arriving home...he had been too busy looking after his lady. His mind wandered as he pulled his tunic over his head leaving his chest bare. He thought of her father and what slimy things he was doing at the very moment his daughter had died. He thought of her brother and sister and the hell they must be living at his hand as their sister did. He thought of her mother, so passive and obedient, she would do nothing to cross her husband, even if it meant saving the lives of her children. When they made the trip to Rose Hill, he would make it his business to bring her siblings home to Cliffehaven.

He whisked his breeches off in a smooth motion and let everything fall to the floor. He stretched and yawned, not realizing until then how exhausted he was. He carefully climbed beneath the coverlet beside Aspen and turned onto his side to face her. He wanted her to see him if she woke up in the night. He let his eyes drop closed and sleep claimed him as well.

Mary bounded in and opened the shutters of the window and let the glorious golden sunshine filter in. Thorne groaned and buried his face in his pillow. As his wits gathered about him, the events of the day before haunted him again and he sat up in bed. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to grind away the grit of fatigue that still seemed to plague him. As his vision cleared, he looked to the woman beside him. She looked very much the same, but perspiration beaded her brow. He glanced at Mary who was biting on her lips and wetting a cloth meant for Aspen's forehead. She removed the blankets she had bundled Aspen in and wiped at her face with the cool water.

"What is this about?" Thorne asked her.

"The fever has set in. We got to keep her cool now," she replied.

Thorne cupped her cheeks in his hands and drew them back as if he was burned.

"I had no idea a person could get so hot," he muttered.

"Only the very sick do, m'lord."

Thorne slipped from the bed and found that Mary had laid fresh clothing out on the back of the chair. He shrugged into them and filled the basin with more water. He splashed it on his face and felt the stubble on his cheeks. He could shave later. He used a discarded blanket to dry himself and immediately took his place at her side. He took the cloth Mary had been using and wet it again to continue to wash her face. He trickled water into her mouth to keep it from becoming too dry and her lips from cracking. He kissed her good morning, but still she did not move.

"I am not leaving you, darling. I am only calling for Cappy to come so I can talk with him for a spell. If you need me, I am here," he soothed.

He strode to the door and cracked it open to pop his head out into the hall. To his surprise, there was Cappy, faithfully guarding her door. His heart melted in gratitude and he motioned him inside.

"I want you to go and get started today on the renovations. Take as many men as you wish and recruit the village men to aid you as well. Keep your eyes open for a suitable representative for the villagers. I feel that I can accomplish more if all of the voices are collected and brought to me as one. Also, see to it that the prisoners in the dungeon are treated and released today. I want every man, woman and child to start fresh this day. I also want to see to it that the gardens are restored. Hire me a gardener and put them to work straightaway. I know I can count on you for all that I ask...and I never found the chance to thank you for bringing her back. I am in your debt and if there is anything you desire, tell me and it is yours. Lands? Position? Freedom? Money? You have but to tell me."

"I am a warrior. I fight to keep you safe and now I fight to keep her safe as well. I need nothing more than your graciousness, my lord. I have no need for land, I am free, you supply me with coin, and I have position. I am happy."

The words would not come, so Thorne merely nodded his understanding and shook Cappy's hand in a bond of friendship. Cappy gave him a smart bow and left him to begin his busy day.

The day progressed and the fever worsened. Aspen thrashed about in her bed, which made Thorne glad she was moving on her own. She tried to speak out but no noise came forth. Her breathing was rough and sounded like the wind in the rushes, high pitched and whistle-like. It twisted Thorne's heart to see her being tortured in this way. She gasped as if she was not getting the air she required and Thorne would have to talk to her and to calm her again. As her breathing slowed, the whistle nearly stopped. He still prayed that she would open her eyes and be well.

Two days passed and Aspen's fever finally broke and the cough set in. Thorne and Mary took turns pounding on her back to loosen the infection. They made teas with herbs that healed and trickled them down her throat. She would swallow it down and then they would lose her to slumber once again. Doctor Love would visit and remarked on her steady progress. He felt her ribs and smiled, as they felt more normal every time he checked them. He would give his instructions and take his leave. Father Goodson saw her every day. Usually after his morning prayer sessions he would call on her and give her a blessing of strength. He said he could feel her spirit growing stronger all the time.

Thorne sat in the chair beside Aspen's bed...he was leaning forward with his face in his hands. It had been another five days of sleep and coughing, but she was sounding better. He had cancelled the trip to Rose Hill until she was feeling more herself, but he knew they had to go soon. He cursed himself for the hundredth time for letting her into the water in the first place and fatigue set in. It tried to close his eyes against his will and it weighted his limbs until he found it hard to even move. He stood and went to the ewer and splashed water upon his face. He felt dizzy and stumbled over to the bedside where he collapsed upon it.

Mary rushed to him and tried to lift him to his side of the bed. He had slept beside Aspen the duration of her illness, when he did sleep. Obviously, he had not slept enough.

"Crawl into bed wi' her, m'lord. Ye need yer rest too."

He groaned in protest, but allowed her to help him to his pillow. He stretched out beside Aspen and he couldn't believe how wonderful the straw bed felt to his tired bones. A sigh of relief escaped him and he let himself be carried off to sleep.

*******

The morning light was so very bright. It burst through the open window with such force that she had to close her eyes against it. It seared her eyes like when light reflects on a sword blade to blind you. She could hear the birds singing on the window ledge. They sang high and sweet with the new life of springtime. The smell of flowers wafted in to fill her senses with energy and comfort. There was no fire burning and it was warm in her room. She could hear the soft breathing beside her and turned her head. There was Thorne. Had she ever doubted he would be here? She couldn't remember that she even knew what was happening to her. She smiled at the sight of him...he was so peaceful and calm. She decided not to waken him. It must still be early. She pulled the cord for Mary.

"Yes, m'lord?" she asked as she hurried in. She turned from closing the door and stopped in her tracks. Her eyes widened and she whooped for joy at the vision she saw before her. Her mistress was sitting up in bed, her eyes open and fully focused, her mouth curved into the beautiful smile they had all grown to love so much. Mary curtsied and ran to embrace her mistress, crossing herself and muttering her thanks to God.

Thorne heard the commotion and the maid's cry and woke with a start. "What--" he gasped. Then he saw her sitting next to him in the bed. His heart stopped for a time and he began to laugh.

"My God, I thank you from the depths of my soul!" he cried. He took her in his arms and held her for what felt like an eternity. He didn't want to let her go for fear that something else would happen to take her from him.

"Why are you crying, my lord?" she asked, surprised.

"'Tis not tears of sorrow I cry any longer, darling. I am now the happiest man that God ever created! I was so afraid I had lost you and now here you are very much alive and speaking to me! 'Tis a miracle I hadn't thought possible."

He wasted no time, but pressed his lips to hers in a kiss of thanks and with a heated passion. He drank deeply of her and savored her essence. No other woman had affected him the way she did. He truly felt a love that threatened to break his heart in two...it was so great.

"What happened? Things feel different to me. The sun is brighter and the birds seem to sing louder and the flowers seem to be more fragrant, though I feel that I have just woken after a good night's sleep."

He stared at her in disbelief. "You don't remember the ocean?"

She chewed her lip as she thought. "I remember the feel of the sand, climbing the tree, the rock..."

"But do you remember the water? Do you remember being in the water?"

A sudden memory of darkness came over her. A shadow passed her features and tears came to her eyes. "It was so dark. I was all alone and I couldn't find the top. I tried not to breathe, but I couldn't help it. I never realized how horrible a death sailors have at sea."

Thorne's emotions betrayed him and the wound opened new all over again. Silent tears flowed with hers and her recount gripped his heart and twisted it painfully. He cleared his throat. "As soon as I saw you go under the waves, I jumped in to find you. The current had sucked you out to the open water and I couldn't find you. I swam and swam and I thought I had found you, but it was only seaweed that felt like your hair against my hands. I tried to get to you in time, I swear I did."

Aspen held up her finger on his lips to hush his panic. "But, you found me after all. And you saved me," she whispered still somewhat hoarse. "It must not have been my time because I never saw heaven and I never saw hell. I didn't even see a bloody angel!" she joked.

They both laughed in each other's arms, just happy to be together. Aspen thought about her life and the price Thorne paid to save her. She owed him her existence. She owed him her loyalty and her love. She would be exactly what he wanted her to be.

Thorne thought about what she meant to him while he would wither away and die without her, he knew he would have to let her go to be happy with a man who would provide her with a family. It was the fair thing to do. Even though he was prepared to marry her now, he was torn about creating a family and forcing those children to follow in his footsteps as it was a life doomed for unhappiness and loneliness. Not a life he wanted to pass on to anyone. Yes, he would have to learn to be without her.

A knock sounded at the door and a weeping Mary opened it for the physician. He strode in with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Well, how is my best patient?" he asked her.

"Much better, I suppose. I don't remember much at all," she responded.

"Does it hurt to breathe? Inhale for me, please. Now exhale. Very good. I would say that a few more days of rest and you will be back to normal feeling just the thing!"

"How long was I sick?" she asked.

"Almost two weeks. We nearly lost you, young lady. Thorne here was with you the entire time, even bossing me around!"

She looked to the culprit, who shied away looking at the coverlet. She looked back to the doctor with gratitude shining in her green eyes. "I have so many people to thank, I don't know where to begin!"

"Well, we all know how you must feel and we do not need thanks. The fact that you are alive and well is all we need to justify our actions. The entire castle has missed you, my lady."

"Thank you, Doctor. I am sure now that the staff knows that I am going to be fine. But, I want a nice warm bath. I feel so sweaty and grimy."

"I think a bath would be a good thing for you. If you feel short of breath, I want Thorne to carry you either to or from the tub. Do not push yourself, and then it is back to bed with you."

"Yes, sir," she smiled.

"How do your ribs feel?"

"I don't think they hurt right now. What happened to my ribs?"

"Cappy had to get the water out of you and broke a few ribs to save you. I thought they felt healed up, but I wanted to know if you were in any pain."

"No, I think they are fine," she said feeling her sides.

"Then I will let Mary get your water and I will check in on you later. Get rest. Even if you feel better, you are not completely healed. If you over do it, you will be back in bed for a longer amount of time."

She nodded her head and he left. She took a deep breath and she exploded in a fit of coughing. Thorne tried to help her in any way he could, but it was something she had to do herself. He gave her a cup of water and she drank deeply.

"After yer bath, I will get ye some food to eat," Mary said.

"Actually, I think she needs soup. Have cook make up some soup. What is your favorite?" he asked.

"I will eat anything! I am starved. Whatever is easy for cook is great."

"Aye, m'lady."

The tub was readied and the water warmed and perfumed for the lady of the castle. When it sat steeping, the steam gently curling into the morning air, she let her legs flop over the edge of the mattress and she slowly slid to the floor. Her legs wobbled and her heart seemed to race. She held onto the edge of her bed and took the step down fairly easily. She finally let go and stood on her own. It felt wonderful to be free once again. She took a step forward toward the tub and Mary rushed to her side to help.

"No! I need to do this alone. I at least need to try," she commanded.

One foot and then the other...one step at a time. She felt good and went faster. Her lungs suddenly seized and she found she couldn't breathe. She felt as if she were drowning all over again. But this was almost worse because there was air all around her and she couldn't get it in her. She doubled over and coughed until she vomited. Thorne ran to her and held her up as she fell over. He lifted her into his arms and strode to the wooden tub that was so worn. With Mary's help, they divested her of her nightdress and sat her in the warm water. She sat back and let her body go limp again.

Thorne had seen her naked again! She was abruptly aware of his presence and she blushed from head to toe not knowing what to say. Mary took the lilac soap and washed her body and told her to wet her head to wash her hair. Without thinking, Aspen held her breath and dunked her head beneath the water. Panic took over and she thrashed about to get up. Mary slipped her arms under her and brought her up out of the water. She was gasping for air and she clung to Mary's arms and began to sob. Thorne was right there to calm her. Her eyes were still shut and she was sputtering as if she were about to go down any moment.

"I have you, Aspen. I am here to help you. Nothing will happen again."

As Thorne talked to her, Mary soaped her hair and carefully washed it out trying hard to not scare her again. They managed to get her back into bed in a clean nightdress. She felt much better. The smell of the soap brought comfort to her, though she did feel silly about the panic she felt in the tub. Aspen ate as Mary brushed her hair out and Thorne brought a gift in to her. She stared at the bundle he placed in front of her on the bed and then moved her eyes to see his grinning face.

"More surprises, my lord?" she asked gravely.

"No, this is merely a gift. Our trip to Rose Hill is scheduled for five days hence, you know," he said.

She smiled and untied the string that bound the package. She unfolded the cloth to reveal a gown of deep emerald green and peach. Her breath caught in her throat as she touched the exquisite fabric.

"Oh, Thorne!" She exclaimed. "It is beautiful!"

Thorne beamed. "This is what I wish you to wear on our trip. It is a gorgeous gown for the most gorgeous of women."

"I can't wait to wear it! I don't know if I can wait five days!"

"Chloe wants to be sure it fits perfectly before we go, so you can wear it... mayhap, tomorrow."

"Thank you, my lord," she whispered as she bowed her head in modesty.

"Believe me. It was my pleasure," he stated. "Now, get some rest. I am going to catch a bath myself...Cappy is right outside."

"Thank you, my lord," she said again and rested her tired body. Visions of going back to her home village invaded her mind as she drifted off. She thought of her brother and sister and the problems they were sure to be enduring. She remembered the horrible things she had said to her mother on her way out of her house and how she wished she could take them back. She wondered what she would do to her father if she had the opportunity to do whatever she wished. And Rayven's face materialized as if he were right before her. How would she explain herself to him? What would she say to his father to make it worth his while to allow her to purchase seed from him? At last, when she had mulled things over again and again, sleep claimed her.

Aspen woke to a dreary day once again. She supposed the sun could not shine every day or it wouldn't be home. On the other hand, she loved to wake to the sun flooding into her chamber. Mary slipped in, carrying fresh cloths for her bath. Aspen knew she should bathe again, but the thought of the water terrified her.

Mary saw her lady staring at the steaming tub of water as if it were the devil. She felt for her and wished she could say something that would comfort her. She smiled her good day, set the cloths by the fire, and then went to sit by her side on the bed. Mary reached out and stroked her hair. Aspen closed her eyes against her fear and a tear fell from beneath her lashes to trace a trail down her pale cheek to disappear into the fabric of her nightdress.

"Now, there. 'Tis fine to be afraid, Aspen. But the tub is not the ocean. I swear to you, I'll not let ye drown. 'Tis so safe. Come, now and let's get ye ready for the morning meal."

Aspen nodded her head and opened up her eyes. She allowed Mary to assist her to the tub and help her in after she shed her nightdress. She swallowed her panic and washed very quickly so she could climb out of the water and have Mary wrap her in a warm towel and another one around her hair. It wasn't until she turned to her bed that she noticed a magnificent gown lying across her bed. It was the bright blue velvet fabric from Chloe's collection. This must be the nightdress she had requested! She smiled in amazement at this beautiful garment. Mary took her blanket and dried her body, then slipped the gown over her head. It fell to cover her perfectly. It was anything but the traditional high-necked, long sleeved nightdress. It was long and touched the floor, but there were small sleeves and the neckline dipped into a long V between her small breasts. She had never seen a gown like this before and felt very bare wearing it, yet she felt very beautiful with it upon her skin...she wanted to dance and twirl in the brilliant gown and she vowed she would never wear her old nightdresses again. She would wear this nightgown forever. As if reading her thoughts, Mary took her arm and helped her to bed.

"Mary, I want to sit in the chair while my hair dries. I want you to arrange it into a style today so I can be a vision for Thorne. I can only imagine how pitiful I have appeared for so long. I feel like a princess and it is about time I look like one. Would it be all right?"

"I'll help ye over to the chair," Mary smiled.

She sat and Mary took her hair from the blanket and began to brush it over the back next to the fire to dry. "Mary, why haven't you married? Don't you want children? Don't you want to do something other than serve me or someone else for the rest of your life?"

Mary let a long sigh escape her. "Once upon a time I had wanted all of those things. But, when ye come from a long line o' servants, that is what ye are. His lordship has made it clear that we have no time to woo or be wooed. I am not too smart, but I know that leaves no time to be a wife or a mama."

Aspen thought that was unfortunate and made a mental note to talk to Thorne about the subject of family once again. "I am sure we will be able to work something out. Thorne is changing, I think."

"Pardon me for sayin' so, but he is another man to me. Since ye came, he has become someone I has never seen b'fore. He loves ye, I can feel it. If ye could get 'im to get rid of his maid, ye'd have it made."

"What about his maid? I haven't seen her before."

"Her name is Lilly and she is something else. She has this thought in 'er head that she is going to be the lady o' this castle if she can keep his lordship satisfied in his bed. If she can keep 'im from getting close to anyone else, she thinks she can win 'im over, she does. She has been here since he was a babe. She has always been his nanny. She hated his little sis 'cause he loved her so much. Me thinks she had somethin' to do wi' her death, I surely do."

"Do you think she may have had something to do with the attempt on my life?" A cold chill slithered up her back at the memory. She would always remember the sound of the dagger hitting the bedpost.

Mary hesitated and chewed her lower lip. "I do."

Aspen spun in her chair with the fire reflecting in her eyes. "Why in God's great name didn't you say anything?"

"Ye-ye don't understand their relationship, Aspen. He sees her as a mother and a lover and someone he can love and hate at the same time. I hear she has been trying to have his child so she has a tie to 'im and he can take care o' her forever. I heard another servant talking that she thinks she is wi' child now. She is protecting herself against ye, my lady. As long as ye are here, she will not belong to his lordship."

These revelations hit Aspen as if the stone of the walls was crumbling. She turned back around and let Mary style her hair into a twisted coronet atop her head. She didn't say another word, but fell into deep thought about what was just said. Mary fluffed her pillows and helped her back into bed just as a knock sounded on her door. Mary opened it to reveal Thorne's smiling face and a tray of morning victuals. He could almost smell the trepidation as he strode into the room.

"Good morn to the most beautiful lady in the land," he boomed as he planted a kiss on her forehead. She took his breath away once again in her stunning blue gown. She sat ready for him in her bed doing exactly what she was told. He excused Mary and his smile faded as he uncovered Aspen's food and she sat there not moving, only staring at him with a look of disgust in her eyes. A force squeezed around his insides and he could tell something was wrong. He pulled a chair beside her bed and took her hand.

"What is wrong? Has something happened?" he asked with concern thick in his voice.

She pulled her hand from his and cleared her throat. "I have some questions for you."

"Whatever it is, ask away."

"I want to know about Lilly." There was nothing more, just the simple question, but the flat tone in her voice told him he had better be honest. She knew everything, he supposed. Damn her maid! He would have her fired.

"Lilly was hired by my parents to be my nanny when I was a babe. She reared me in my parent's stead and she soothed me when I was sad. My parents were too busy being important and I needed someone there for me. I turned to her. When my sister died, she wiped my tears and held me when my father kept telling me to be a man and quit bawling like a baby. She has always been a nurturer to me."

He paused to hear what else she wanted to know.

"I want her investigated," Aspen replied.

Thorne drew back as if were slapped. His eyes grew wide with shock. "Whatever for?"

"I want to know more about what she is to you."

Thorne licked his lips and templed his fingers before going on. "She still cares for me, drawing my baths, washing my clothes, shining my boots. She listens to my complaints and offers encouragement."

"No, I want to know how she felt about your sister. I want to know why she takes her place in your bed. I want to know why she thinks she can have your child when you have told me many a time you want no children. I want to know these things!"

"My God! What has she told you? What has Mary filled your head with? She is as of this moment, terminated! She will never work anywhere near here again!" He ranted in fury.

"Would you shut your mouth? Have you ever thought that Lilly may have the wool pulled over your eyes? For your information, Mary is concerned about me. She told me the servant's gossip about Lilly. Obviously, she is right or you would have admitted to me that she shares your bed the first time I asked you about her. Did your good replacement mama teach you about the birds and the bees when you were ten or twenty?" She could hear herself screaming at him until she exploded into a fit of coughing. Thorne filled her cup with water and she drank deeply. He could not believe the words coming from her.

"She loved my sister. She cared for her as a babe as well. She cried with me when she died. My affairs prior to your arrival here are none of your business, but I will let you in on a little secret: I seduced _her_ and I did so when I was eighteen. She was a virgin as I was. She has simply been there for me when I needed her. I have also told her that I forbid her to become pregnant. I cannot believe that you could allow Mary to gossip to you. That is very bad form on both of you."

"I still want her investigated. I want to see if she will admit to how she killed your sister and how she tried to kill me. I also want you to know that she is with your child. You need to know these things!" Aspen shouted in total exasperation, her hand splayed out before her.

"I will do nothing of the sort! She will not be made out to be a criminal!" He hopped up and began to pace the floor.

"All right then, go into my dressing room and I will send for her and interrogate her myself. I want Cappy in here as well. Then we will know once and for all what she is all about," Aspen countered.

Thorne thought for a moment and nodded his head in agreement. Then, he opened the door to tell Cappy that Aspen wished to speak with Lilly. Cappy said he would find her and return shortly.

Thorne wagged a finger at her. "You had better hope you can get the answers you want. If you hurt her intentionally, it will be the worst for you." And he stalked into the darkness of her dressing room.

Aspen wrung her hands a short while as she pondered what she had done. She had opened a Pandora's box and now she had to reap the consequences.

A knock sounded and Aspen invited Cappy in leading a short, dark haired woman with skin the color of golden brown bread. She must be accustomed to being in the sun as she herself had on her farm. Lilly's hands were stubby and calloused from her hard work and her gray dress and white apron seemed to be of a better quality than other servants had. She held her head high and her eyes beamed with jealousy. A smug smile played across her face. Aspen nodded to the chair beside her bed in a request for her to sit. Lilly did as she was told and turned her doe brown eyes to her expectantly.

"Thank you for coming, Lilly," she said with a sneer in her voice. "I have asked you here so that you can answer some of my questions. We have decided to reduce the amount of staff we currently employ, so we are conducting interviews with you. I expect truthful answers, do you understand?"

"I'll do my best," she replied.

The tension was so tight in the air Aspen could slice through it with the dagger Lilly had thrown at her. She drew a deep breath and looked at her square in the eyes. She could sense the malice radiating from Lilly's persona while she mentally leafed through her questions.

Lilly, fully intent on telling her what she should know, hoped to send this girl packing and never hear of her again.

"What was your position that you were hired for?"

Lilly smiled and quickly licked her lips before she answered. "I was hired as a girl at Thorne's birth to nurture him into his manhood."

"And in that time, did you love him as more than your charge?"

She narrowed her eyes at her. "Yes... He was a sad boy and needed my comfort and then he grew to be a lonely man who needed...satisfaction."

"I heard that Kara was also entrusted to your care, is that true?"

"Yes, but she met an unfortunate fate many years ago. Thorne cried every day for a very long time and I was the one who was there to console him. He needed someone, you know, with his family too involved in their duty to notice him...without Kara he was virtually alone in this world and I helped him through that."

"What do you know of her death? I have heard talk, but I feel I am not getting the entire story. I feel that you, being so close to her and knowing her habits, would be able to clear things up for me."

"I do know that she went to the parapet at night before bed to make her wish...it was her ritual. She slipped and fell over the edge to the rocks that night...I met up with Thorne in the hall as he heard her scream."

Aspen thought on that briefly and then narrowed her eyes. "How could you possibly know that she slipped? Those walls are very high and a small child could not climb atop them with ease, much less carelessly slip."

Lilly's eyes snapped to Aspen's face immediately and she found she was at a loss for words a moment. "I suppose...I figured she must have slipped and fallen for she ended up in the rocks. How else would she get down there?"

"Well, I think she was pushed over the edge, and since no one saw you until you were in the hallway, I think it was you," Aspen threw the words out knowing she would not take the bait.

Lilly's hand flew to her chest and she sucked in her breath. "Heaven's no!" she declared. "She was a sweet little one everyone loved very much!"

"I could believe that, if it came from anyone's mouth but yours. But let's move on...I know that you know it is forbidden to be romantically involved with any in the castle. Is that true?"

"Yes, but I willingly give Thorne what he asks of me."

"So, he proceeds to rape you everyday?"

"No! It isn't that way..." Lilly's eyes grew far away and dream-like. "He loves me very much and what we have together is a wonderful thing! You could not even begin to understand."

"Are you pregnant right now?"

Lilly paled a bit and let out a small laugh. She was not quite sure how to answer that question. "No, I am not." She said flatly folding her hands in her lap and raising her chin a notch.

Aspen nodded her head as if contemplating Lilly's answer. "I think you are lying to me so I have the good doctor available to examine you. If you are not, you are safe...if you are, you are a liar and will be discarded."

Lilly's eyes darted around the room looking for evidence of the doctor and she began to fidget. Her breathing came fast and she started to nervously chew the inside of her cheek. A stiff silence filled the room.

Tired of Lilly's antics already, Aspen nodded to Cappy...who she hoped would play her game. "Cappy, please let the doctor know he can come in," To her relief, Cappy nodded his understanding and possessing a loathing for Lilly, he looked forward to her demise. He turned and strode to the door and as he opened the latch...

"No! Wait...I admit to being with child, but just barely. Perhaps a few months time. I wanted to tell Thorne of it a while ago, but he dismissed me after using my body to make himself feel strong and powerful. So I kept it to myself because I was angry with him. But he will accept us and care for his child...I know he will!" she raved desperately.

"You have proven yourself to be a liar, Lilly. You are deceitful and manipulative and I think you had everything to do with Kara's death and the attempt on my own life. Thorne has told me that he does care for you, but shame on you for sharing his bed when you were supposed to be as his mother. You have confused him so he knows not what real love is and therefore you have ruined his mind," Aspen chastised.

"You know nothing of Thorne...who he was before he became what he is. He needs me and he will realize that after you send me away, for he could never love you. Your idea of love is like playing make-believe since you are just a child yourself. I know you are not a noble lady so you are no threat to me and I take offense to your little meeting you devised to accuse me for crimes that would turn the man I love against me. No, Thorne needs a woman's love...raw and passionate, not simpering and virginal. He will grow bored of you, cast you aside and seek me out for my comfort and embrace our son recognizing us as a family! He thinks you are all wonderful and perfect, but you are only different. You call me a liar, but you are only lying to him by pretending to be one you are not. Thorne is what he is and no amount of time or circumstance will change that...he will always be who I have molded him to be but simply wearing the mask of a gentleman," Lilly said, her voice escalating to panicked heights, eyes wild and a knowing finger pointing at Aspen. "Everything I have done has been in his best interest!"

Aspen could see Lilly's defenses weakening and searched her mind for something else to say to make this crazy woman crack and loosen her tongue to confessions. "Unfortunately, I am the one running this household and I don't think you will fit in here anymore. Your...talents...are no longer required to make Thorne happy. I have replaced you in keeping his bed warm for him so that makes your poor baby an illegitimate bastard, does it not?"

Lilly's smirk quickly changed to rage, her eyes grew wide with shock and a great shriek flew from her mouth as she came at Aspen in one moment and Cappy sprang to life the next. Her hands were around Aspen's neck, squeezing, as she never could have imagined a servant could. Aspen fought and scratched gasping for air until Cappy pulled her off kicking and screaming. Thorne came out from the darkness having heard enough to realize this woman was not who he thought she was after all. She looked like a child just caught stealing from the church's plate as his wrath descended upon her.

"My love! Tell this ogre to release me!"

He took her face in his hands. "Are you with my child?"

"Yes! It is a moment I have wanted since you became a man, to tell you that I can gift you with a son."

Thorne pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and willed the tears and rage to spare her.

"I want her in the south east tower. To the very top and a guard. No one but myself is to see her."

He turned to go and saw Aspen sitting in her bed, sorrow in her eyes, her beautiful hair askew. Without facing Lilly he asked, "Was it you that tried to kill Aspen? You have no life left before you, so be truthful."

Aspen lowered her eyes at the sound of his defeated voice.

Lilly spat on his back. "I should not have missed," she drawled. "So, this is what I get for being your whore? I get locked in a tower for keeping a smile on your face?"

He spun back to her then and before he knew what was happening, his palm connected with Lilly's tanned cheek. She stopped struggling to stare at him in disbelief...he had never hit her. "You will die at sunrise! Then, I will hang your dead and decaying body along the road in the trees to be eaten by animals until your bones are picked clean!" he screamed at her. "Get her out of here, now!"

Cappy tightened his grip about her arms and Lilly panicked, thrashing around kicking her legs and then sagging to the floor to get free. She found she was being dragged toward her doom and out of desperation she screamed out, "Your sister held her arms out to me to carry her to bed when I threw her over! I watched the terror in her eyes as she screamed all the way to the bottom! And you!" she fixed her eyes on Aspen, "I am not the only one who hates you, you wretch! I know things, yes I do. I hear! You will meet your fate and poor Thorne will be all alone in this world again!" She was almost clear of the doorway when she used her feet at the corner to stall Cappy and craned her head back to the doorway. "Your day is near, mark my words!"

Thorne kicked at her feet and Cappy pulled and she was removed from the room. They could hear her ranting through the halls until she was far enough away that she could no longer haunt them.

Thorne roared a loud, excruciating sound that rent Aspen's heart. He looked to the angel sitting in her bed and gathered her into his arms. "I am sorry I doubted you...I was blinded with confusion. To think I could not see..." He inspected the marks on her neck and she shooed him from worrying by taking his lips with hers and holding him tight for what seemed to be an eternity.

"I know this was hard for you, Thorne, and I wish for you not to kill her."

"Are you daft? She must pay."

"Do you recall Max and Lila?"

"The couple trying to have a baby?"

"Yes. She is most likely barren and it would mean the world to them if they could have a babe of their own. I am asking you to keep her alive and comfortable as possible, take the baby upon its birth and give it to them to raise as their own. After the fact, you can have her executed. Make a good come from the bad, Thorne. You have the power to fulfill their dreams."

"What of the staff? They all know she is with child."

"She is a liar, don't you agree? It isn't hard to sway your staff to thinking it is another's baby. Max and Lila will be the only ones that know."

Her goodness melted his heart for about the hundredth time. "I want to let you in on a little secret."

"And what might that be, my lord?" she asked with a smile.

"I love you."

### Chapter 6

Aspen stared at him in disbelief. She had no idea where this had come from when he had just been upset with her over Lilly. She felt triumphant in her victory over that horrible woman who tried to take her life, yet she had once again destroyed another piece of Thorne. She broke from his hold and studied her hands wringing the coverlet. A rain cloud descended around them and sentiment choked them both.

Thorne placed a finger under her chin to draw her eyes to him once again. What he saw was not adoration but was a sorrow he could not understand. He felt foolish for revealing his feelings for her when she did not reciprocate. She was more than likely confused with all of his talk of mistresses and then lovers and the children he was so against having in his life. He wasn't sure what to do or say to her at that moment until she broke the silence that had grown between them.

"I apologize, my lord."

His heart stopped for a time. "Whatever for?"

"I have intervened once again and have hurt you. Why does it happen that way?"

"Darling, you can't imagine how I feel right now. I feel elation, I feel closure, I feel safe, and for the first time in my life, I feel love. As these pieces fall away from me, you are discovering a new person. The person I should be. When I think of life just weeks ago, it was all anger and sorrow. Now, you can make the sun shine on me every day, raining or not. You can make me smile even when I don't want to. What more can I ask for?"

She smiled at his words.

"That is what I like to see. Did you know, that when you smile your entire face lights up? I could tell if you were smiling even if your mouth was covered up. You are a very beautiful woman...and I would like to know something."

"Anything," she replied.

He climbed upon the bed to sit next to her. He took her hand with his. "When you and your friends would play, who was your Prince Charming? What was his name? "

Aspen thought this an odd request and she really hadn't ever realized what he looked like or that he had a name. He was simply a man that had come to rescue her from the evil around her. He was a man who took her to a perfect place where poverty and darkness was never felt. "Thorne, I don't know how to answer your questions. My charming prince never had a name or a face that I remember. He was a ghost, I suppose, who took me to better places. Anyone or anything, that took me away from my father, was a prince to me. He was called 'my Prince' all of the time. As far as I know, you could have been that man that saved me all those warm summer days. I am so grateful to you for making that deal with my father. I would most likely be dead if you hadn't come. I can't help but think of Kendric and Monica and the Hell they must be living at his hands."

"When we return to Rose Hill, we will go in search of your brother and sister and invite them to come with us. We have the power to save them, and we will," he replied.

Silence spun around them and Aspen could find no words to say. She could not return his sentiment of love. She could not tell if she was in love with Thorne or only grateful for his graciousness. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, and yet, he did save her life. She owed him everything for that one deed alone. She tried to sift through her logic and found that everything good he had done thus far, out-weighed the bad. She felt he was waiting for some declaration and decided she would give in and satisfy him.

"Thorne, I am unsure of what love is, but I feel things for you I have never felt before. I do believe that I have fallen in love with you. You are a grand man and I cannot think of being apart from you."

Her words warmed him inside like brandy going down. She was completely honest and sincere, he could ask for no more. "Quite frankly, I am very glad your charming prince did not have a head of gold locks and ice blue eyes or I am afraid I would be lost to someone else," he chuckled.

As the words tumbled from his lips, Aspen's thoughts turned to Rayven. It was odd that he had never even entered her mind as she was thinking about her charming prince. Mayhap her feelings for Thorne really did compare, or exceed her innocent feeling of Rayven.

"T'was you, my lord, who rescued the damsel in distress. No one else."

Something mystical and foreign was building between them. They found it hard to speak and breathe. Their hearts pounded so fast they were sure they would faint. Thorne placed a finger under her chin once again and each saw in the other's eyes a mirror of passion, the embers of desire that threatened to burst into a mighty fire and claim their souls. Thorne lowered his lips to hers and it was as though they melted into one being...that they existed as two, but could join as one great force to fly higher than the strongest bird ever could. They kissed for some time before Thorne deepened the kiss, and Aspen let him. A fire within her grew and a strange sensation burned in her belly. She moved back upon her pillows and her hair came undone, washing over the pillows like a mass of red autumn leaves could cover the ground. Thorne moved atop her and she could feel the extent of his desire. A sudden panic overcame her and she feared whatever was about to happen next.

Thorne could sense a change in her and reality hit him once again. She was still ill from her accident and he was pushing her too hard. He also remembered a day, not too long ago that he made a vow to God. These acts he was committing were immoral before they could be joined in marriage. He pulled away from her and surprise stared back at him.

"My lady, I am not a complete ogre," He fought to control his breathing. "I fear I must depart from you briefly. I will return soon, I promise."

Aspen smiled at him as he walked to his chamber rather stiffly. Yes, she felt she could be loyal to him forever. Emptiness filled her where budding passion had just burned. How silly love was. One moment there were flames all around them and the next it was as barren as the forest after a mid-summer wildfire.

The door of her room opened and Cappy appeared with Chloe in tow.

"Miss Chloe wants to see you, milady. Do you feel up to a visit?"

Aspen smiled. "Of course, Cappy. Thank you."

Once the door had shut, Chloe came to sit in the empty chair next to her bed.

"It is so nice to see you again, Madame. How are you?"

"Well, my dear, I came to ask you the very same question. However, I am feeling just the thing. And you? I see you got my nightdress. It doesn't make you look as ill as I had originally thought."

"Well, thank you, I suppose. I am feeling very well. I hope to be making a trip back to my home in a day or two. How are my gowns coming along?" Aspen asked the chubby seamstress.

" I am needing to fit you with some of them. I wanted to make an appointment so I can have Thorne help me bring them over here from my rooms. He begged me to finish in enough time so you could have a small travel wardrobe. It is good to have a dress for travel, a dress for visits, a dress for the evening meal and a fresh dress for travel back home. In the case of foul weather or other disaster, you must be prepared to stay at an inn, so you will need to take more fresh undergarments, a nightdress, and of course, yet another fresh gown for returning home. You know you cannot arrive home to your staff looking a rag. Mary will go with you and assist you in grooming and bathing, changing and she will need to remove the wrinkles from your gowns."

"Oh, my! Traveling is such an event around here! I suppose that is why Thorne does not travel more often," Aspen breathed. "After the midday meal should be just fine."

"I will return then, milady. Good morn."

Aspen nodded her dismissal and when Chloe had taken her leave, Aspen realized she was feeling a bit lonesome. Mary was not bustling about, Thorne was not delegating orders, Doctor Love was not poking at her and giving her horrible elixirs to calm her coughs. Everyone was going about their business and she was trapped in her bed all alone. She needed a project to occupy her time. She made a mental note to ask Chloe to teach her to embroider beautiful pictures on cloth. She also thought to ask about writing paper and a pen. She would love to create lovely ballads. And books! She would have Mary find her some books to read. There were so many things to do and she could not do anything herself.

She leaned back against the pillows and let a sigh escape. She suddenly felt so very weary and let her eyes close for just a moment. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

The sound of clanking tin woke her. She rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes and yawned the sandman away. She saw Mary coming toward her with her lunch on a tray and hastily sat up devouring the food with her eyes. It was then that she spied Thorne sitting in the chair by her bed, a grin touching his lips and his eyes dreamy.

"My lady, to watch you sleep is to truly see perfection," he breathed.

"My lord, surely you jest!" she countered as the crimson flooded her face.

"I would not dare jest of something so beautiful. Peaceful as an angel, you are."

She laughed out loud. "Please, sir, do not make me laugh. It hurts so badly!" she pleaded holding her ribs.

"I have no intention of making jokes here. I merely state the truth. And you had better get used to it, for there is so much more to confess."

"Flattery does not become me, my lord. It turns me an awful shade of red."

"I think the red makes you all the more wonderful to look upon."

She clapped her hand over her mouth to hold in the laughter wanting to escape.

"Mayhap I shall not compliment you again, dear lady, if it will always make you wish to laugh at me. I can tell you are smiling, I told you I could tell even if I could not see your mouth. Although I do prefer to see your sweet smile instead of your hands."

Immediately, she dropped her hands and grabbed at her coverlet and pulled it up to her face.

"The color of the blanket suits you as well, but not near as much as your smile suits me."

That was all she could take and the laughter rolled forth in loud racking fits until her lungs seized and she began to cough. Thorne's expression changed from humorous to alarmed and he began to pound upon her back and offered her a drink of water. When the episode ended, he placed her lap tray over her and placed her bowl of soup on it. Greedily, she snatched it up and began sipping the warm liquid. It was good to see her thriving.

"I suppose I shall keep my comments to myself until you are feeling more the thing," he said stroking her hair.

She swallowed the soup and marveled at the comfort that it brought to her stomach. "Perhaps that would be best."

*******

The day of the trip arrived and an uneasy feeling settled in her belly. She was still not sure what she could say to convince the earl to share his planting seed for her people. Mary helped her into her traveling habit of deep blue linen and twisted her hair atop her head. She was excited to help her lady on her trip since she had never before left the village. Aspen spent the morning wringing her hands and biting on her lower lip in worry.

Thorne strode to her and twirled her in a circle to see her clothing. He nodded his approval at Chloe's work and kissed her forehead in salutation. She had nearly recovered completely from the sickness that invaded her chest. He felt confident that she would be fit for travel and even his physician let her go.

"Nervous?" he asked when he read the emotions playing across her features.

"Not at all, my lord," she lied.

"Is that why you are about to twist your fingers from your hands?" he asked as he tore them apart to hold one in each of his own hands.

She cocked her head to the side and grinned. "All right, mayhap a little nervous."

"This was your idea once upon a time, remember?"

She sighed at him and closed her eyes. "Aye, it was. I wish I had never said a word."

"These people here believe in you to help them and I believe in you to spin miracles for them."

"Thorne, I am hardly a miracle worker. Someday you will see that and wonder why you ever became mixed up in my affairs and I yours. What will I do when that day comes?"

"You forget. You and you alone worked your magic and pushed the demons from my soul. That has never been done before. You can work miracles...I see them every day. We had better go before my driver gets anxious." He took her arm in his, not allowing her to speak another word to contradict him and they made their way to the staircase.

Her eyes nearly popped from her head when she beheld the entire castle staff lined before the door to say their good-byes. Tears burned her eyes and sentiment choked her making it hard for her to do anything but nod and smile. She pulled her cloth from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. Henry smiled at her and pulled open the enormous door. She turned and waved at all of them, then descended the steps to the awaiting carriage.

John, the driver, held open the door of the vehicle and they slid inside. The buggy wiggled as Aspen arranged her skirts for the trip. She heard John help Mary into her seat next to him and then he took his own seat. Nothing more happened until Thorne asked her if she was ready and upon receiving her nod, he tapped his cane on the ceiling and off they went.

Every bend in the road made the fluttering in her belly grow until it was making her heart skip in its rhythm. Thorne scooped her hand in his and patted it reassuringly. Then, he lifted it to his lips and planted a gentle kiss of luck on her palm. He could sense the fear in her before they had left home and now, it was as if she were somewhere far away. Her eyes were glassy and staring into the morning clouds and she didn't move a muscle when he had taken her hand. He slipped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, squeezing her for any kind of reaction from her. All she did was close her eyes and shake her head.

"My dear, don't fret so."

"It is a most frightening thing to face all the monsters from the past."

"I know that all too well. You helped me through my sorrows and reformed me, now, I will help you."

"Thank you," she whispered. "Did Henry send the request for an audience in time?"

"He dispatched it days ago, but we have not heard back. We will send another when we settle in an inn for the day."

"May I have some coin to browse the market?"

"As much as you need. Well, no, as much as you desire. Buy everyone out if you wish."

"That should not be necessary, but I wish to contribute to their pouches. It is something I could never do before."

"By all means, buy anything you want."

It seemed to take no time at all to get there and Aspen thought back to the day she had gone from her home to Thorne's and remembered how it seemed to take so long to get there and now so little time to get back. She peered out of her window and could see the village on the horizon and the castle beyond. They made their stop at the inn on the very outskirts and they scrambled from the carriage to stretch their legs.

The curtains at a window of the inn moved and a dirty face appeared. She saw the understanding dawn in those eyes staring at Thorne and herself and then the curtain fell back and the door swung open revealing a small man trying to appear more presentable in his drab clothing.

"My lord, you are an honored guest in my establishment. Your rooms are being prepared as I speak."

Thorne had played this game many a time. "My fine sir, if you hasten even faster, you may win yourself an extra gold coin on top of the amount you collect for your room."

His eyes grew wide and greedy. "I pray, excuse me a moment." He limped off to relay the message to the cleaner of the rooms. When he returned, he smiled and gestured for them to enter. "This way, please." He led them down a hallway to a staircase and up to the top where a door stood open, almost off of its hinges.

"This is me best room, m'lord."

"This will be fine. I assume that you have another for my serving people?" Thorne asked.

"Of course, m'lord. 'Tis one door down," he replied as he pointed to another door. Thorne nodded to him and pushed Aspen through the doorway and into the room.

After living for even the short time at the castle, this inn, that she had once envied, seemed so run down and tiny. She looked around at the droopy straw tick and coverlet full of holes, the torn curtains at the windows, and the white wash flaking from the old wooden walls. It churned her stomach to think that she used to think of this place as a palace. With Jenessa, they would talk about how one day they would marry and own a home like the inn and raise a family. Now, she shivered as she envisioned a mouse crouched and waiting to run out over her feet just to scare her and prayed for good weather to come of the clouds in the sky so the place did not blow to the ground.

"I am going to pay the man and make certain that suitable victuals are prepared for you. You can change into your dress that I love so much and we will go into the village and wait for our summons from the earl," he said as he took his leave.

A sigh helped to clear Aspen's nerves some and Mary unpacked her gown from her trunk. She hung it over the back of the rickety chair by the fire to smooth the wrinkles from the skirt. Aspen crossed her arms over her chest and walked to the window to stare at the village ahead. She could see the turrets of the caste looming in the midmorning mist and silently wondered if Rayven would recognize her and what he would think of her since her disappearance. She wondered as well if she would be taken prisoner as a traitor for taking Thorne's side in the fight between the families.

"M'lady?" Mary caught her attention. She turned to her and saw the gorgeous green silk gown that Thorne had given her when she awoke from her sleep after her accident. Mary laid the dress across the straw mattress to be careful not to wrinkle it again and helped Aspen from her travel dress and into the new gown.

It had long, fitted sleeves of emerald green with cuffs of peach velvet, the bodice was tight and low enough that evidence of her small breasts swelled above the top. The skirt had no waist, but clung to her curves to explode into a full skirt around her legs and all the way to the floor. Mary secured a knee length cape to her shoulders that was a soft peach silk embroidered with gold flowers. She felt more extravagant that the queen herself. Mary plaited her hair with pearls, piled it upon her head, and pinned it with long pearl pins. Aspen rubbed her cheeks to rosy them up after appearing so pale. If she happened to see her father, she wanted to look happy and fortunate, not pale and sallow.

A knock at the door caused her to start and she gave Mary the go ahead to open the door.

He nearly fell over as he forgot to breathe when he saw her standing there so regally. He found that for once in his life, he did not know how to react or what to say. He was sure his heart had stopped for a time as he tried to gather his wits about him.

"Is there something wrong, my lord?" she asked afraid of the answer she might get.

"Did I die in the last few seconds? Surely you must be an angel sent to take me to Heaven...or Hell, I suppose. Lord knows I deserve it. I surely do not deserve you," he babbled almost to himself.

She floated to where he was standing and took his hands. She stood on her tip-toes and planted a sweet innocent kiss on his lips.

"I could very much die a happy man right now," he whispered into her ear.

"Don't you dare, my lord!" she smiled and her eyes blazed a deep green, full of mischief.

"I almost forgot! I have a little trinket for you," he exclaimed. Her heart raced with excitement.

He opened his trunk and pulled forth a small parcel of cloth. He handed it to her and she shook as she untied the string and folded back the cloth, to reveal a gold chain of tiny emerald and diamond flowers. Aspen stared up at him. A tear spilled over and trickled down her cheek. Now it was she who could not find the words.

Thorne wiped the tear away and took the masterpiece from her shaking hands. He walked behind her and wrapped it around her tiny waist to fasten it at her side. It sparkled magnificently like the stars on a clear night as she moved.

"I love it! Thank you..." she whispered back to him.

"It was my mother's. It looks as fetching on you as it did on her."

A gruff sound in the doorway snapped them from the other existence they had been in. Thorne spun on the intruder.

"Yes?" he demanded impatiently.

The man handed him a sealed piece of folded parchment. It was their summons to see the Earl St. Michael.

"Time to go," he said. He took her arm and led her to the carriage.

A wave of nausea washed over her and she paused before he could help her into the cab.

"I can't do it. I just can't," she murmured under her breath.

Thorne was beside her in a heartbeat. "I know you can. The people you care for so much know you can too. Please try. Bury your fears and try."

She paced in a circle as she contemplated her decision to go or not to go. Then, she thought of Max and Lila and the horrible conditions that so many of the people lived in and her heart would not let her give up. She bit her lower lip and returned to the carriage.

"What are we waiting for?" she asked.

Thorne broke into a heartwarming smile. "That's my girl."

He helped her up into the cab and with a tap of Thorne's cane they lurched forward to the castle, Aspen's heart sitting in her throat.

As they approached the village, the people walking in the streets recognized the crest on the carriage from the bad blood of the past. Aspen met glaring eyes and curiosity at the same time. She saw some of her neighbors from merely weeks ago and none of them knew her. The horses trotted across the drawbridge and drew to a stop in the bailey where John came to help her down.

"Good luck, my dear," Thorne said as she threw him an uneasy glance. She tried to return him a smile and failed miserably.

The Earl St. Michael's captain of the guard came to escort her to her destination. He was a larger man than Cappy and much more fierce looking. Uncertainty gripped at her, but she quickened her pace to outrun it.

She wondered if she would be taken to an interrogation room or a sitting room? Would it be the same room she had performed in for the earl and his family? How would he receive her now?

They turned a corner and the man gestured for her to enter. It was not the same room she had been in, and was not nearly as cozy and inviting. There were three high-backed backed chairs in front of a fire that was hardly warming. There was one table with a decanter of brandy and four cups on it...the earl was not there. Aspen walked to the window and tried to see the carriage. She could not. She had never felt so alone and vulnerable in her life. Even being taken away to Thorne's home was nothing compared to sticking her own neck out on the line for the masses.

She heard the echo of heavy footfalls in the corridor and turned to the door as the Earl St. Michael strode in. He stopped in his tracks as if to look upon her froze him stiff. Once he had recovered from his shock, he came to her and took her hand in his and brushed his lips across it.

""Tis a pleasure to meet you, madam," he proclaimed. "Please, have a seat."

Aspen took her seat across from his own. "Thank you, my lord. As a matter of fact--"

"I am sorry I am so late, Father," said a familiar voice from the doorway. Aspen turned her head and the sight of Rayven was breathtaking.

He was dressed in his fancy garb of royal blue and black boots that reached his knees. His hair was golden and slightly skew, but his eyes were so penetrating and brilliant blue that she had to look away lest her heart would melt.

"Excuse me, my lady. I apologize for keeping you waiting. May I ask you a question?"

"Anything, sir."

"Are you not the girl who played the harp so beautifully? I do believe the first piece was 'The Waterfall', was it not?"

Aspen's palms began to sweat and her breathing came more hurried. Should she lie or be honest even if it meant imprisonment? She smiled sweet as a saint and said, "I was just about to tell your father that very same thing as you came in. I am somewhat surprised you even remember me."

"How could I forget your face?"

"Come now, sir, I fear you see too many pretty faces in a day to bother with the likes of mine. In fact, I seem to remember a dark headed woman in white chastising you for helping three ragged girls. She was one who fancied you, I'm sure," she smirked.

He blushed to his roots and grinned sheepishly. "You think you have found me out, do you? I'll have you know that I have looked for you since that afternoon and have been unable to locate you. Penny was my family's efforts to match me with a wife. But I would have none other than you. Will you give me your name?"

"I am Aspen, the daughter of Vatric. I will tell you my story, but only if you allow me to leave when we are done with our negotiations."

The nods of them both and the intrigue in their eyes urged her to continue. Yet, she felt something odd in the earl...

"I left here after my performance that horrid day and was beaten by my father for accepting a payment for my services. He tore the dress you gave me out of the kindness of your heart and told my mother to make curtains for the windows. He left to return late that night and the next day I was turned over to the Earl of Cliffehaven to be used as his prostitute in exchange for coin to support my siblings. However, to my luck, the Earl of Cliffehaven has proven to be an honorable man and we are set to be married. Our problem is that rodents have ruined our seed and we are unable to plant crops this season. I have come on my own will to persuade you to sell me a minimal amount of planting seed. Would you be able to help me? Without it, my people will starve and I cannot stand by and let that happen."

Both men held incredulous looks on their faces and were not sure how to respond.

"Well, Aspen, I am very sorry about what has happened to you, but you cannot possibly expect me to sell you our precious seed when you are now considered our enemy. Surely, you know about the bad blood between our villages," the earl stated rather flatly.

Aspen nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, my lord, I do know the history there. However, I must ask you one question. If you take over the village at any time, would you not want it to be in good repair and thriving?"

An odd silence filled the room and the snap of a log on the fire shook the earl from his thoughts. He looked to Rayven, who had an incredulous look on his young face and was at a loss for words himself. The earl stared at her again and a grin crossed his features for a mere moment.

"Very well, my dear. I will give you the seed in exchange for information on the earl of Cliffehaven," he said as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, tapping his fingertips together, never tearing his eyes away from her. "I want to know his entrances, his guard routine, his bedchamber location. The seed is yours for this simple information...as well as the opportunity to govern your people after Darktower is finished."

Bile rose in Aspen's throat and she willed herself not to throw herself at him to choke him to death. She took a deep breath and smiled sweetly as she clenched her teeth together so hard she could hear them grinding in her ears. She stood and smoothed her skirts, then folded her hands in front of her.

"Thank you for your time, my lord. We shall find any other way to prosper than to sink to your depths of treachery. To think that only a small while ago, I held every respect for you and everything you stood for. Now, I fear that you have pulled the wool from my eyes and I can see that my entire life, every security I felt here was all built upon lies and deception. I never would have thought you the kind of man to bribe me to give you information to aid the fall of my betrothed. Good day, sirs," she spat and bobbed a curtsy, spun, and strode away. She was fuming as she hadn't before and she knew she had best leave as quickly as possible.

Rayven watched the door she had disappeared through and hoped she would repent and beg their aid. She didn't even look back.

"Father, I must have her as my wife. I don't care how, but it must be that way."

"I swear on all that I hold dear that you will have her. She is a strong and loyal woman. We could benefit from her. Send a man with more seed than they have ever seen and see what happens."

"But, if we allow them to become strong, we will never conquer them and she will never have to bend to me. I do not think it is wise to give them the seed," Rayven pleaded.

"I have a much different way of looking at things, my son. Patience is a virtue. You would be wise to remember that," he explained as he rubbed his palms together, a small tickle in his throat causing him to cough and then he downed a swig of brandy.

From the carriage, he could see her storm from the keep muttering to herself and her hands gesturing wildly. He could tell she had failed. His heart sank in his chest and his dreams raced to the edge of his mind just out of reach to him. A gigantic cloud seemed to descend around the village as he witnessed the display of her temper. He jumped from the cab as she came upon him and offered her his hand. She took it, still muttering unladylike expletives under her breath. Once she was seated and Thorne had tapped his cane, he ventured to find out what had transpired to make her so angry.

"I take it, it went horribly."

"After all I believed my entire life, he is actually a bastard!"

Hearing those words burst from her dainty mouth made laughter bubble within and spill forth.

"What in Hell's fire are you laughing at? You would not be laughing if you knew what he wanted me to do. Oh, no you would not."

He sobered up immediately in case she was about to bash him over the head with his cane. He cleared his throat to rid himself of the urge to giggle. "Alright then, what did he want?"

Her eyes darkened to almost black with anger as she stared him in his own eyes. "He wanted traitorous information about you and your castle in exchange for all the seed we would need. Do you want to know what I think we should do? I think we should form and immense army and flush him out! I think he should fall!"

"Calm, my darling. I hope I am never on the receiving end of your wrath. Obviously you said nothing or they kicked you free because you offended them with your tongue."

"I said nothing and mayhap I did offend them with my words, but they deserved it. I still have no seed for the people. How can they respect someone who cannot save them? I have failed and have let you and the villagers down." her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Her passion touched him and he reached out to take her hands in his. "All I asked of you was to try. I had grave doubts of his cooperation, but you did your best. We will find another way."

Aspen fell into a dark silence as she thought up different ways to get even with the earl. She glanced out of her window and marveled at the familiarity of the scenery. This was the way home. She was going to see Kendric and Monica again! She shifted her gaze to Thorne. He was taken aback by the way her amazing eyes went from dark and sinister to a brilliant emerald green with the change in her moods.

"If it is your wish, we will take them home with us. I want this for you, but it is your decision."

She flashed him a dazzling smile and sprang forward to wrap her arms around his neck in gratitude. "Thank you, Thorne," she whispered.

The farm looked very much the same as the day she had left. The barn was barely standing, the shack filthy and disgustingly run down, the chickens in the road pecking at anything they could find, the faint moo of the cow in the meadow. She saw no one around and wondered where they were. Had they moved away? No, her father needed Thorne's coin too badly to leave.

The carriage pulled to a stop in the yard and John lifted Aspen to the ground and Thorne followed. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves and walked to the door. She hesitated only a moment before she rapped loudly on the flimsy door. An alarm went off in her head and she began to panic. There was an uneasy feeling in her belly as she turned the knob of the door.

The door squeaked open and dust swirled up in front of her. The afternoon sun filtered through the small windows in a haze of doom. No fire burned in the fireplace, no food was being prepared for the evening meal. She walked further into the house and saw the straw tic her parents had shared her whole life. There was a form in the bed, a very lifeless form. Aspen sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back. There, her mother lay wasted away to almost nothing, yet she was still alive...barely. She placed her hand on her cheek to feel the cold, clammy skin that was white as bread flour.

"Mama?" she called fighting her tears.

She was met with no response from this woman in her mother's bed and nightdress.

Aspen took her hand in hers and rubbed it on her face hoping to wish life into her body. "Mama, it is me, Aspen. Wake up, I need to talk to you."

Thorne walked up behind her and watched in horror as the woman who appeared to have aged fifty years since he had seen her last lay there gaunt and drained of life. Her once full face was wrinkled and shriveled into nearly bones with her eyes visibly sunken. Her hair was matted and strewn over her pillow. Her lips were cracked and dry and her hands were like those of a phantom, knotted joints and fingernails long and unkempt. Claw-like. He went to the basin by the door for a cup of water to find the ewer dry and full of cobwebs.

"There is no water. It seems there has been none for some time. Is she coming around?"

"No, I don't understand. She was fine when I left. What happened to her and where is everyone else? I can tell she is alive. She is breathing, but not very well. I may be too late, Thorne. We have no time to get her back to Doctor Love. Get John to make her comfortable in the carriage and I will get her trunk. My God, I don't even see any food at all! What-" she began mumbling to herself again with a hand to her forehead in an attempt to calm herself.

Thorne called to John who ran in and gathered every blanket he could find. Then he lifted Lyndsay's small form and headed outside. Aspen turned to the wall where all of the trunks sat lined up with the exception of her own. She knelt in the dust and opened the first, which had belonged to her father. There was nothing there save for the band of metal he had worn as a wedding band. She picked it up and stared at it. The words "For Eternity" scripted across the ring. She clenched it in her fist and wanted to throw it so that it would disappear, yet she moved on to the next trunk, her mother's. All of her things were arranged perfectly. Her dress was folded, her hose, petticoats and worn slippers on one side, her brush and embroidery on the other. She reached in and fingered the stitches that had once been made by deft hands that had all but turned into those of a skeleton. She picked it up and unfolded it to reveal her own face stitched onto the fabric and a gown of red, in the making, made up her body. The lump in her throat grew and tears pricked her eyes until she finally let a few escape. Her mother had loved her and had not forgotten her. Aspen thought back a moment to the past days at Cliffehaven and realized she had had only thoughts of hate toward her mother for not saving her, when in fact, she did. She told her to make her proud and if she would just open her eyes, she could be proud of her now. She placed the cloth back into the trunk and moved to the next...Kendric's. His nightclothes and a book were all that remained. The gold piece she had left was not there. Monica's was the same. Only her nightdress and an extra shift and her baby doll lay there before her eyes.

Thorne took her by the elbow to help her stand. To see her hurting so badly nearly killed him.

"I want their trunks. I want to take them back with me," she whispered.

"Their trunks are only a reminder of the misery of the past. Leave them be."

"You don't understand. It is all I have left of them."

"We will find out what happened to them, I swear. Leave them here."

"I will be abandoning them again. I must have their belongings, Thorne."

Thorne nodded reluctantly and put the items from her sibling's trunks into her mother's and John carried it out.

"Let us go. Leave this place forever and never look back on it. I will make a new life for you and when we get back, I will dispatch men to track down your brother and sister."

"What if he killed them and buried them on this land? How do we know they got away? It seems as though my father left, but Kendric and Monica would have taken their precious items with them if they had run away. How can I go home with you and not know what has befallen them?"

"My men will find out what has happened. They are trained for that sort of thing. Trust me..." he held his hand out to her. He could see her battling with her heart over whether to stay or go.

"Regardless of where they are, we have to care for your mother. Come..."

She knew he was right in that and she took his hand to be led to the carriage.

The ride back to the inn was a silent one. Aspen stared at her mother and her heart broke more with every memory she recalled from her mind. Slow, fat tears slipped from her unblinking eyes. Tears that Thorne knew were the worst ones to cry. Try as he may, he could not keep his own emotions at bay and he too cried for her and her black pit of a past. He was a selfish sot to not acknowledge that he had had it so easy in his childhood. Even his bleakest memories paled in comparison to the terror she had obviously lived through. He closed his eyes on her to escape the torture on her face and began to pray on her behalf. Even in prayer, her face haunted him and plagued his thoughts until he could bear no more.

"I love you to heaven and back, always," she muttered.

"What did you say?" he asked, not sure he had heard her right.

It was as if she were in a dream, unseeing and motionless she explained, "She said that to me from the time I was a babe. How could I hate her so badly when she loved me so much? She was relieved that I was leaving that day. She loved me enough to let me go and I hated her for it. How could I-" her voice trailed away.

"We will stop at the inn to collect our things and then we will go straight home. We may make it before dark," he whispered to her.

She numbly nodded her understanding and wiped her cheeks with her shaking hands. She wanted to be back at Cliffehaven where she was safe with Thorne and the people who cared for her. She let her eyes close and sleep gripped her, draining her strength and jumbling her reveries, sending her to a place where she could be free...or she could be trapped.

### Chapter 7

Thorne ran into the inn and told Mary to pack up straight away. He told her an emergency had come up and they needed to get back immediately. Curiosity strangled Mary and she could not wait to find out the mystery. She threw Aspen's belongings into her trunk and John had it strapped to the carriage in no time.

Thorne paid the innkeeper his agreed upon price of double the customary rate with an added gold piece for their trouble. The innkeeper's wife packed a basket of food for their travel and bundles of food for Mary and John.

They headed down the road at a faster than usual pace. Thorne and Aspen ate every morsel of the delicious meal the woman had given them between the bumps and sways of the carriage. Aspen's mother was snuggled into the seat across from them bundled in the many blankets taken from her home. Every bump in the road made Aspen reach out to catch her mother in case she fell from the seat.

The sun began to fade and they began to fear the bandits and outlaws that came creeping after dark. They were almost there. With the grace of God, they would be safe and her mother might live.

Aspen thought she could hear something. She strained to decipher what it was over the rumble of their own wheels on the road. She raised the shade on the window and stuck her head out to see what it was.

"What is wrong?" Thorne asked.

"I hear something, but I can't tell what it is."

"Do you see anything?"

"It is getting dark, but I can tell that there is a cart just ahead. This road is too narrow for the both of us. We need to pull over and stop."

"Nay! If we stop and the rider is an outlaw, we would be easily overcome and mayhap even murdered. If he wants passage, he can take his cart into the grass."

"Thorne, he is not slowing! He is still on his course!" she nearly shrieked.

"He will, my dear," he retorted so calmly.

Aspen's heart thundered in her ears and her breathing came fast as she watched the driver of the cart riding as if the devil were after him. Yet, just as Thorne had thought, the man veered just in time to miss them. In the setting sun, Aspen could see no markings on the cart and the man driving it did not even look at her. She drew a deep breath of relief and sat back in her seat. She glanced at Thorne who was trying not to laugh at her.

"You mock me, my lord," she stated rather dryly.

"Me? Never, my darling," he remarked feigning shock.

"You would not have thought it so funny had he ran into us."

"No, I believe I would not have, but I did know that that would not have happened, did I not?"

"Yes, my lord. You were right."

He did laugh then, deep and rich laughter that gave Aspen gooseflesh. She could not resist and joined in. She looked to her mother to see if they had woken her and her laughter died. Thorne saw the change in her and followed her eyes. The woman's eyes were open and staring at them. They were dark and glassy, unfocused, but they were open.

Aspen bent over and took her hand. There was no reaction.

"Mother, are you all right?" Aspen called to her.

Those eyes kept staring at her unseeing.

"It is a sign that there is still life in there. Let Doctor Love treat her. He saved you, I am confident he can save her as well."

"I should not doubt you for you have done so many things for me, however, I have never seen someone this close to death and I cannot see her simply coming back to life."

His heart nearly broke in his chest. His father and brother died untimely, yet swift deaths and here, her mother lay having been sick for who knows how long slowly dying, wasting away to nothing. It was difficult to watch the woman so drained of life and not feel for her. If Doctor Love could not help her, he prayed God would simply take her at long last.

Just as the sun set, filling the sky with magical colors in the summer clouds, they sped into the courtyard of the castle. John hopped down and Mary ran off to find the physician. Thorne helped Aspen out of her seat and allowed John to carry the woman to the room next to Aspen's and await the arrival of the doctor.

Cappy ran to him huffing and red in the face, sweat trailing down his face.

"Cappy, what is wrong?" Thorne asked with concern thick in his voice.

"My lord, I need to speak with you now!"

"Go ahead, man. What is going on?" Thorne pressed.

Cappy looked to Aspen and back to Thorne. "Beggin' your pardon, my lady, but I fear this to be a very private topic. Could you excuse us?"

Aspen smiled gently at him even though his words stung her insides. "Of course. I will be tending my mother."

"I will be along shortly," Thorne whispered to her and kissed her forehead.

Both men watched her depart and a small sadness filled his heart in her absence. He shook it from him and turned back to Cappy. He was obviously bothered about something.

"What is the problem?"

Cappy scratched his chin through his whiskers and took a deep breath. "Shortly before dark, a wagon approached. They came from the direction of Rose Hill. We sounded the bell and stood ready for an attack. But, when they arrived, they dumped ten sacks of seed at the entrance and left. Is it trickery? Are they going to use this against us in the future? Are they waiting just outside of the village to attack upon acceptance of the seed?"

"Have you brought the seed in?"

"Nay, we wanted you to decide what to do. I was not about to be responsible for the taking of the village," he smiled.

"Thank you so very much, old friend. It makes me feel so much better knowing everything rides on my decisions. This is such a headache," he said with a note of sarcasm.

"How did the audience fare?" Cappy asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not well. They wanted her to give sensitive information in exchange for the seed. It makes me wonder what she said if they dropped off the seed."

"You don't think she said anything of importance, do you?"

"It is not like her to say anything at all. She was so incredibly angry when she stomped out of the keep, that I believed that she had said nothing. She told me she said nothing!"

"What shall we do with the seed?"

"Leave it until I talk with her and get to the bottom of the issue. Tell your men to stand guard until I call them down. I will come to a decision on the seed and let you know what to do with it."

"Yes, my lord," he saluted Thorne and spun, taking his leave.

Thorne's blood began to boil. He did not know what to make of everything. Surely, she could not have done anything traitorous. It was not in her nature to do so. So then, why did St. Michael send the seed? What was up his sleeve? He decided to talk with Aspen and get the conversation from her word for word or he would lock her up until she felt she could be truthful. He jammed a fist through his hair and set out to find the woman he adored and, if Fate was kind, he would not have to be harsh with her.

Aspen paced the floor by the fire as Doctor Love tended her mother. He looked grave in being able to help her. Lyndsay had not closed her eyes since the ride in the carriage and just lay there staring at the top of the canopy of her bed. She had tried to make her swallow some water and failed miserably.

"Doctor Love, I am going to go for a short walk. Do you know where I could find the priest?"

Doctor Love paused in his work and stared at her, pity shining in his eyes. He felt for this young woman and all the tribulations life had thrown in her path. He smiled gently. "He has been refurbishing the chapel. My guess is that he is there preparing for services this week."

"Thank you. I will find him and be back very soon," she said and offered him a weak grin.

She folded her arms across her chest and bowed her head as she left the room. Outside the door, she fell back against the wall as the tears began to build. She took a deep breath and wandered down the corridor listening to her slippers tap against the floor. Even in the warmth of early summer, she could not still a shiver that left gooseflesh in its wake. She remembered where Thorne had once shown her the run down chapel and made her way there to speak with the holy man that had blessed her head every day that she was sick.

She rounded the corner and pushed open the huge mahogany door to the sanctuary. The room was dark save for the candles that lit up the feet of the statue of Christ on the cross. She could not see the colors in the stained glass windows because of the backdrop of nightfall outside. The wooden pews sat quiet, waiting to once again be occupied. A reverence filled the room and swirled around her, comforting her ails. Church had that effect on her and she loved it. It had been so long since she had been inside of a place of worship that she had forgotten the feeling of love that God's hand could bring her when he held her hand at the bleak times in her life. Silently, she walked up the center aisle to the altar and knelt. She crossed herself and stared into the flames of the candles and muttered her prayers. She needed a heart to heart with her creator for prayers were not enough.

Thorne saw Aspen make her way down the staircase and to the chapel...a guilty conscience, no doubt. He stayed back a few paces to see what she was up to. He snuck in as she knelt to pray, her pious form stirring a conflict of emotion in him. He could not believe she was capable of what it appeared she did, yet nothing made any sense. He took a seat near the front as he heard her soft words float to him on the magical stillness of religion.

"Lord, I am in need of your guidance, for I am lost. I have failed miserably in my life and I need your help to help me find my path. These good people are going to starve because of a very uncharitable man. A man I used to respect. I am out of ideas and I need a miracle to save them. What do I do?

Please bless my mother. Let her open her eyes and see me. Let her live and thrive for the rest of her life with me. My brother and sister are gone, and I don't know where to begin looking for them. I need a sign, please. Are they dead? Are they alive? Help me to know where to look.

Please place a special blessing on the head of Thorne. He has overcome so many obstacles in his life and has treated me with respect and dignity. He is a wonderful man that I feel very fond of. He is the only man in my life that has been good to me. Please protect him as I hold him dear to my heart.

Thank you for all the many blessings you have bestowed upon me. I nearly forgot the good in my life as I was allowing the bad to infect me. Thank you for helping me see the light. Amen." she said.

Her voice tortured his heart and her words rent his soul. He bid the tears to stay at bay as he listened to her bless him.

Father Goodson entered the chapel with a bible in his hands, whispering his sermon to himself swathed in his white robes. He heard a faint whisper from the front of the room and glanced up surprised to find Aspen knelt before Christ. He watched her cross herself, but still she did not move. A movement in the shadows caught his eye and he found Thorne rubbing his temples with his fingers and closing his eyes. It was not an uncommon gesture of relief for him, the priest knew. When Thorne had done wrong or was confused as a boy, he would come to confession and would sit performing the same way. He wondered what ailed him this day. He walked up the aisle silently and placed his hand on Aspen's shoulder, closing his book with the other. She did not start; she did not look at him. He felt no energy flowing from her body...she was a defeated woman. Before he knew it, he could hear the sobs coming from her. Shock claimed his compassion for a moment and he knew not what to say to her, the poor girl.

"My child, what troubles you?"

She turned and clutched at his robes as sadness overtook her completely. She buried herself in the symbolic purity of his robes and let every ounce of grief and anger leave her to be absorbed by him, a man whose good could overcome the darkest evils that were hidden within her. She was comforted by his presence and at the same time she was ashamed of her outburst. The man helped her to stand and took her into his arms in an embrace of faith and tried to console her.

Thorne watched in disbelief as Aspen was wracked by the most mournful sobs he had ever heard. Even the day in the tower paled in comparison to today. He could not imagine having such anguish and pain coursing through his body as she had and he was at a loss as to what to do for her. He stood when she turned to Father Goodson for comfort and not himself. The good Father looked to him with questions in his eyes. He made a gesture of helplessness by raising his hands in the air and shrugging his shoulders. He knew without a doubt that she had said nothing to the ass of Rosehill and guilt pained in his heart and alarms sounded in his head.

"Aspen, darling, are you going to be all right?" Thorne asked as he approached her.

She gasped in surprise and dried her face to be rid of the evidence of her woes. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She looked at him with her eyes red from tears, but shining green in the candlelight. She stepped away from the Father and smoothed her skirt, not meeting his eyes.

"I am fine, Thorne," she stated dully.

"How is your mother?" he asked.

"There was no change when I came here to pray. Doctor Love was still with her. I am sure I should be getting back. Good night."

She looked as if she were in a state of dreams and walked out the way she had come in. On the way back to her mother's room she saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing. She thought about Kendric and Monica and where they could be. She thought of Vatric and wished he were dead. If her mother was to die, then he had better be dead as well because she had made up her mind to find him and kill him herself.

"Thorne, would you tell me what is going on?" Father Goodson asked.

"I have no idea where any of that came from, Father."

"What is this about her mother?"

Thorne spilled the story about finding her mother and the fact that her siblings were missing. He told him about his plans to send his men to find them and bring them to her. Yet, in the back of his mind, he wondered if they could be found.

"Go to her, be with her and send your love to her," the priest said.

"I am shocked at you, Father! We are not yet married and you tell me to bed her? That is the last thing I had expected to hear you advise me to do," he chuckled.

Father Goodson blushed a bright crimson against his beard of white. "You know, my son, that is not what I implied. I want you to go to her and hold her and take some of her angst from her mind. She is a rare treasure in this world, I advise you to guard her well against any further evil lurking to possess her."

Thorne stared into the eyes so pale they nearly disappeared in the candlelight. Father Goodson was so reverent a man, radiance burst from his soul and Thorne took his warnings to heart. He pondered his words and his eyes traveled to the face of Christ. He crossed himself for the first time since his boyhood and the Spirit of God plucked the strings of his heart and played a tune that made his eyes mist. He walked to the altar and knelt to light his candle. He bowed his head to collect his thoughts and stared at his hands folded in his lap. They were soft hands, weak hands that could not protect her from physical danger. How could he protect her from the unseen dangers ahead? He let his eyes close on his rich, pathetic hands.

"Dear God," he began. His voice reverberated through the room, a foreign voice to him, "it has been too long, I know. Please forgive me for falling as prey to demons all these years. I am a lost sheep of your flock and need some guidance to get home. I have some horrible thoughts in my mind and I need you to help me purge them so I can think clearly to help the woman I love. Please help her mother recover quickly, as she needs her so badly. Please help me to find her family to bring joy to her face once more. It has been a very long time since I have felt love for a woman after my mother died and left me behind. I miss her, Lord. Aspen is everything I remember of my mother, all sweetness and purity. She is such a blessing in my life and I thank you for sending her to me. Please, don't take her from me too. I need to know how to help her. I know that you know what perfection is, but I did not until I met her. I feel her fire beginning to fade and I will not let it go out. I must help her before she dies as who she is and becomes someone different. I fear she will become ugly of heart as I was and that must not happen. If I have done nothing worthy of your help in my lifetime, know that I am sorry and I made a vow to you that I intend to keep, but I am in need of your loving hand to show me the way..." he prayed and as if magic were created there, his heart became light and knowledge grasped his wits. Understanding dawned within him and as he opened his eyes to see Christ looking upon him from his crucifix angels whispered to him and stroked his emotions to a height of comfort, a smile touching his lips.

Father Goodson looked on in astonishment and he could swear upon his good book that God appeared there that day to take his lost sheep back into his flock. He witnessed a man changed by the hand of God and the heart of an angel.

Aspen sat in a chair by the roaring fire in her mother's room. Doctor Love was still with her trying to discover what it was that plagued her.

Thorne crept in so not to disturb the physician. Aspen looked to him, her features drawn and her emotions cut off from him. She was so tormented, but he feared that she was angry with him. He had never seen her so void of life and vigor. She made no move to rise to greet him as he came toward her. He knelt on the floor at her feet in a demonstration of pittance. She stared at him with a darkness lurking behind her jeweled eyes and it frightened him.

"I am worried about you, my dear. What can I do to help you?" he whispered.

"I know I am your prisoner of sorts, but I must leave for a time."

Disbelief smacked him the face. "You are not my prisoner of any sorts and I cannot allow you to leave. We need you here, your people need your compassion, your mother needs your love...I need your love."

She did little more than close her eyes against the rejection. "I must leave on the morrow."

"I cannot let you go. Tell me what is troubling you and I will do what I can to solve it. Please talk to me."

"If you will not let me leave, I will escape. I will be gone when you least expect it. I ask you to simply turn away as I leave. You need not have fears that I will not return, for you have my mother. Even if she dies, I would return for her."

"It pains me to see you like this. All I want is to help you..."

Her eyes flew open and rage appeared in searing glares. Her breathing came hurried and he could see the pulse in her neck throbbing. Trepidation seized his lungs and he immediately stood to back away.

She rose this time and with her hair falling down her back she shook her finger at him. "I don't want your help any longer, Thorne! I need to leave! I will find him and I will kill him with my bare hands! I will never be at peace until I have seen him die at my hand! He has been able to do whatever he has had a fancy to do including killing the lot of us! I will kill him!" She shrieked like a banshee. She looked like a wild animal with the thirst for blood on her tongue. If she were a man, she would be an exceptional warrior, he momentarily remarked to himself.

Doctor Love grabbed her from behind, circling his arms around her belly to pin her arms. She thrashed to tear free, but the doctor held her firmly. Finally, she tired and slumped to the floor in a panting heap. Thorne looked to his physician and back to this stranger in his home.

"Hate and anger are poison to the mind. Especially an innocent mind," Doctor Love whispered to him and turned to get her a drink with a trace of laudanum added to induce her sleep.

"You must be thirsty, my lady," he soothed, handing her the cup. She slurped greedily and he took the cup back. He nodded to Thorne to take her to her room.

Thorne cradled her in his arms and to his relief, she did not resist. She laid her head on his shoulder and her warm breath caressed his neck. He regretted talking to Cappy instead of being at her side. He laid her upon her bed and began to undress her as Mary walked in.

"M'lord!" she gasped.

Startled, he bolted upright and explained to her that her lady was in need of a night of rest and he was trying to help her into her nightdress. She shooed him away and he went back to talk with Doctor Love.

"Have you found the woman's problem yet?" he asked.

"I have heard of people who have problems with their ticker and it infects the body until they have no movement ability. I cannot be certain that is what is happening to her, but I can tell that she is dehydrated and malnourished. She has been for some time. I do not see her recovering, but there is nothing I would want to do to help her die either."

"Is she in pain?" Thorne probed further.

"Nay, I think she is trapped in a state of existence between the living and the dead. I can not even tell if she hears any longer."

"Yet, she opens her eyes. That must show you she is still in there."

"'Tis a movement she cannot control. She does not respond to light or objects, she does not focus at all. She is simply awaiting the angel of death to come for her and he must be very busy for she has waited a long time."

That was not what Thorne wanted to hear. "What of Aspen? Has she gone mad?"

A smile found its way to the doctor's eyes as he tried not to laugh. "Nay my lord. She suffers from a lifetime of agony and she is unable to escape it. She is trying to find ways to cure herself of the cobwebs in her past. Anger is a normal response to death, even though it has not happened yet, I know she assumes the worst and she has to blame someone. She will wake in the morn more herself. But, I feel it in my bones, that evil is descending upon her, so keep her safe."

His words chilled Thorne and he heard them over and over in his mind along with the Father's words of warning. He walked from the room and ran to Cappy's post.

"M'lord! Did you find out any information?" Cappy pressed.

"I know she said nothing to St. Michael. I do not know his motive, but I do not wish for you to touch the seed. I want to wait it out. I sense an oddity that brings gooseflesh to my entire body. Step up the guard even more and let no one in the gates. Something is not right and I cannot put my finger on it. Inform me of anything out of the ordinary immediately."

"Talk to me, old friend. What is happening?"

"I just feel like Lucifer himself has breached my walls and is wreaking evil on those I hold dear. I had two warnings within moments of each other from two different people to guard Aspen closely. I must confess, I have never been so afraid in all my life."

"I will keep her safe, Thorne. I will not let you down," he said as the same consternation surrounded him and made him shiver.

"Meet me after the morning meal and tell me of your night. I want to get back to her now and make sure she is all right."

Cappy saluted him as Thorne walked across the courtyard and back into the castle. His sense of comfort he had felt in the chapel had quickly become a sense of disquiet within him. He slipped into her room to find Mary stoking the fire for the night.

"How is she doing?" Thorne asked her.

Mary looked up from the fire. "She is frightening me, m'lord. I have never seen her like this b'fore. I think she is daft. I think her heart is so broken that she doesn't have one any more. She just mumbled and spat horrid things at me. What in God's name has happened to her?"

"She is a very tried woman right now. We must be patient with her. Under no circumstances is she to leave without me. Understand?" He nodded at her acknowledgement and dismissed her for the night.

He turned to Aspen's bed and sat beside her. She looked so at peace that he wished she could stay that way. He promised himself that she would once again be herself. He reached out and stroked her face, soft as rose petals, and then her hair that splayed across her pillows. He tried to make sense of the day's events and came to no new conclusions. He sighed in frustration and climbed into bed beside her. He would take no chances on her escape.

Dark dreams plagued Aspen that night causing her to toss and turn, even crying out once or twice. Thorne would talk to her softly and reassure her. He was positive she was reliving times of her past and it broke his heart to hear her sound so broken in her child's voice. He made up his mind to form a manhunt for her father to bring him to justice. Beating his child was not against the law, but he would stand accountable for the untimely death of her mother. If he could not be found guilty of that crime, he would make certain he would die in the name of treason. But, to help this hurting woman he loved was another problem all together. What could he do to ease her pain? She seemed worse after she had been in the chapel, where was God for her now? Did she reap no comfort from her talk with the Lord? He thought back on her prayer and realized that she had asked for nothing more than direction. She did not ask for comfort or that things would resolve themselves. She had asked Him to guide her to do what she needed to do. Killing her father did not sound like the kind of thing God would condone, or mayhap the devil had gotten his hand on her when direction did not come to her.

Sunshine forced its way through the shutters and one beam landed perfectly over Aspen's eyes waking her to its glory. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the weathered walls of her childhood home as fear set in on her. She had better be up before Vatric woke. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, stretched her muscles, and it hit her that she was in a bed, not in her bedroll on the floor. Lucidity came forward and she felt foolish for forgetting where she was. She turned her head to see Thorne sleeping soundly next to her. He struck her as being very beautiful at that moment. She had always thought him a handsome man, but she had never taken the time to allow herself to study him closely. He had changed since the first day she had come as his mistress, his features were so much more relaxed and a hint of gray salted his head. He needed a shave and his long, black hair was still affixed at the nape of his neck and lay down his back. He was fully clothed, though he had unlaced his tunic and shed his boots.

The events of the day before flooded back to her and she felt the anger rise in her and boil her blood. She could feel the hate infiltrate her senses and squeeze her insides into knots. She carefully slid from her bed and padded across the stone floor to her dressing room. She lit a candle in the dim morning light and opened the wardrobe. There, hung her old dress, the one she had come to Cliffehaven in. She pulled it out and deftly changed into it, donned her slippers and brushed her hair. She had a moment's hesitation, pushed it aside and spun to leave. Surprise scared her half to death when she nearly ran right into Thorne's chest.

"What in God's name are you doing, Aspen?" he thundered.

Aspen could feel her resolve fade as she stared into his eyes blazing with anger. "I told you that I had to go. You should not worry about my return, you still hold my mother."

"It is not that I worry about your return, but I worry about you...your safety. I will not allow you to go. Get that rag off and bring it to me," he said cold as the steel of his blade.

Aspen raised her chin in defiance and the trepidation in his face caused her head to droop. She had been defeated again. "Yes, my lord," she said flatly, void of emotion. She turned back to the wardrobe and chose a simple gown of soft pink silk. She studied it and remarked to herself that not long ago she had ever thought it possible that she would own anything so fine. Here she stood with silk in her hands and a strong castle around her, a fire burning to warm the chill of early summer. Most of all, Thorne cared about her and those she loved enough to use his power for her. She had been angry and foolish in thinking she could track her father down, even more foolish to think she could find her brother and sister without his help.

Once she had changed, she appeared before Thorne with her old dress in her hands. Her eyes were big and haunted, nearly like windows into her past horrors. She came to stand before him as he sat in the chair by the hearth. He was sitting so still, slouched down in the chair, his bare feet crossed and a finger over his lips to force his thoughts to stay silent. His eyes were hooded by his thick lashes and Aspen was feeling frightened. What if he had had enough of her that he wanted to beat some sense into her? What if he would lock her in a tower to make certain she did not leave? Mayhap if she groveled to him, he might be easy on her this time.

"My lord, I am sorry I felt the need to run away from you. I brought you this as you asked of me," she said as she knelt on the small rug by the chair. She placed her mound of fabric on his lap. He fingered it a moment with his free hand.

"Aspen, I want you to take this part of your past and throw it into the fire. I want to see you do it. Sever this tie you have to your past," he urged. He placed the dress back in her hands.

A lump formed in her throat, one of the most painful she had ever felt. She had worn that dress for a number of years and he wanted her to burn it. No, it wasn't beautiful. But it had been made for her by her mother's hand.

"I cannot, my lord," she said.

His eyes flew to her face. Lord, she was stubborn!

"Why do you defy me?" he asked.

"My mother made this dress for me. It has been my one possession that no one could take from me. I cannot destroy it. You know, it nearly took my mother a fortnight to craft this dress for me? I cannot turn it to ashes," she added quietly.

"I know this is an important piece of your life and your memories, but it is time to start anew. Start your life again with me at your side. Have faith in me enough to toss it in the flames and take my hand."

Aspen fixed her eyes on the faded fabric, the patches, and the holes. The knitted lace missing from the neckline, the laces of the bodice fraying, the mud from the creek staining it where she had fallen such a short time ago. Visions of Vatric came to life and she saw him cut her gifted dress from the earl into pieces, the time he tore her sleeve grabbing her arm, and every other horrible deed he did to her. She became ill and holding the dress made her feel a sense of loathing and she threw it with all of her might into the flames to devour the rag. She turned from Thorne with her hands on her face and tried not to cry. She felt as though she had done enough of it in the days before. She could be strong now. She could begin again.

She felt Thorne's warmth behind her before he rested his hands upon her shoulders.

"I am proud of you. I knew you could do it," he whispered.

Somehow, the feel of his strength against her weakness empowered her. She let her hands travel to rest upon his. He turned her to face him and when he saw the amount of pain in her eyes, he gathered her into his arms and held her. She let her arms cling to him like a frightened child, not wanting to let go. The peace and security she felt was nearly too much for her to accept, but she felt so safe with him. He was invincible to her...he was perfect. She could feel her heart beat against his chest and she could feel his beating against hers. It happened that as they melded together as one, there to help the other, that their hearts began to beat to the same rhythm. A smile flitted to her lips as she had heard of such things occur, but thought them foolish myths. They were made to be together, she had known it for some time but refused to concede to her heart. Now, it was impossible to ignore that he had taken the keys and unlocked her love, allowing it to affect her in ways she never knew were possible.

It seemed as though they were lost in forever as they broke away to stare into each other's eyes before Aspen broke the silence of passion.

"How is my mother?" she asked.

"She was the same last night when I helped you to bed. What do you say about us peeking in on her before we break our fast?"

The light that returned to her face was worth more than his weight in precious jewels to him. Eagerly, she nodded her head and her smile left him breathless. He took her hand in his and led her into her mother's room. Doctor Love sat in the chair beside the bed her mother lay in. As she neared, she could tell that the woman's eyes were closed once again. She appeared to be warm and comfortable, something Aspen was sure she hadn't been for quite some time. She was still frail and gaunt, but color had flushed her cheeks so she looked alive. Aspen crossed the room to the dressing table and picked up a brush of silver with real boar hair for bristles. She sat next to her mother on the bed and began to unsnarl her hair. She smiled a far away smile and hummed a tune that was unfamiliar to Thorne. He could sense the battle inside of Aspen and knew it would take some time to get her back to normal since the scars of the past had been reopened as fresh wounds. Aspen kept stroking the woman's hair and with every stroke, his heart wept for her. He was so glad that they had found her before it was entirely too late. He felt she had a chance, no matter how slim, and he was happy that Aspen had been able to be reunited with her mother. Yet, he could not shake the eerie feeling that in rescuing these women, he had opened a Pandora's Box that he had not intended to explore.

Doctor Love explained his orders for Lyndsay's care to Mary and Aspen. He told them of the importance of speaking to her, of using the straw to slip soup down her throat, of bathing her often to ward off any infection.

"I believe her heart is giving out on her. I cannot be certain how long she had been alone, but it was only a few days...mayhap three or four. But without the attention she needed, she may not recover very well. She may never wake up and she may wake up in minutes, I cannot say. However, I will do my best to save her, my lady," he said to a grieving Aspen.

Thorne wrapped his arm around Aspen's shoulders to give her invisible support. He had no idea how his touch affected her, how her saddened heart lifted, how her belly tingled, how gooseflesh erupted over her body. He felt safe and secure to her, he was her anchor in the storm. She could not live without him...

She broke from his embrace to sit by her mother. He left her there holding a limp hand and whispering memories to this woman. He had so many things to accomplish for her. He felt he nearly had to move the stars, but he would do it for her. He met Cappy in his library, his good friend looked so very tired.

"Hello, Cappy!" he boomed and clapped him on the back.

"How is Aspen faring?" Cappy inquired.

"She is doing much better. We seem to overcome difficulties daily. How was your night?"

"Eventless. I was so bored, it was all I could do to stay awake," he sighed.

"I am still puzzled by the seed, but I need you to form a party of some of your best men and trackers. We need to find Aspen's brother and sister. They are missing. Take the dogs with you and an item with their scent on it. Check for graves or remains in close proximity to their home. If you find them, bring them back here to see their sister. She will be so happy. I want them on the look out for Aspen's father as well, he must be brought to trial and with any luck, he will be hanged. I will meet with your men and give specific information to them before they depart."

"I feel that is unwise to leave the village unprotected by even a handful of men at this time. Could this not wait?"

"I promised her I would save them. I need to know where they are and that they are safe. I do not wish to wait any longer."

"You wish to endanger the lives of many for her happiness? This is so unlike you, Thorne," Cappy shook his head at him.

Thorne's fist made contact with his desk with a deafening bang and his face flushed in anger. "I see what has happened here. I have entrusted my responsibilities with you for too long. If I am mistaken...and tell me if I am...I am the leader here. Not you, not the men. I make the decisions and you carry them out. Am I wrong?" he bellowed.

Cappy was taken aback. "Forgive me, my lord. I mistook your leadership for friendship. It shall not happen again."

"Cappy, you will always have my friendship, but I need you to do as I ask this time. Your objections are duly noted, old friend."

Cappy saluted his captain and strode out of the library.

Thorne had a moment's trepidation over what he had just ordered and the fact that Cappy may have been right. He shook his head to clear his jumbled thoughts and went to peer out the window behind his desk. The sun's warmth kissed his skin. He closed his eyes to revel in it. Yet, even warm as it was, a chill tore up his spine and prickled the hairs on his nape causing his eyes to fly open once again. His limited experience in battle told him, all was not right.

He watched as a rider approached the gates. He heard the bell ring for the men at arms to ready for an attack. He held his breath and muttered a small prayer of deliverance. The next thing he knew, the rider was going back the way he had come. Curiosity nagged at him and tugged on his imagination. He spun to seek out Cappy and as he put his hand on the door, Cappy was just on the other side coming in. Both men jumped out of their skin and gasped in surprise.

"My lord, we have just been visited by a rider from Rosehill," Cappy began as he sucked in his breath to calm his raging heart. "He brought only this and said it must go to Aspen immediately."

"Please go and tell her to come in here. We will discuss this further with her," Thorne ordered.

Cappy left and shortly returned with the beautiful girl in tow. A mixture of curiosity and confusion blanketed her face.

"Have a seat, my dear. How is your mother?"

"She has not changed much, my lord," she replied uneasily.

"I have called you here because a rider from Rosehill delivered a message for you." He nodded at Cappy to hand the parchment over. He did as he was told into her shaking hands.

She unrolled it awkwardly with unsteady hands to read the scrawl of William St. Michael. Her breathing quickened as she read the chilling words.

My dearest Aspen,

I hope you will accept the seed on behalf of your neighbors in Rosehill. I meant no offense to you when you visited us. Please use this and think of us when you fill your bellies with the food we have provided for you. We wish for you that the best of circumstances befall you. Beware of the man you take to husband, you are always welcome to come home. Rayven is quite taken with you and wishes to see you again.

All our love,

Wilford St. Michael of Rosehill

Aspen crumpled the message in her hands and sank into a chair, thinking of Rayven and how her heart pittered after him at first sight. She felt dark emotions overcome her again as she read the words as if the devil were worming his way into her mind through the letters of this mortal man. They say that he can take any shape he chooses and at one time she thought he had taken her father. Now, she was not so sure.

"Aspen, what is it?" Thorne demanded.

Her eyes turned to him and he snatched the paper from her. Anger blazed in the dark depths of his eyes as he beheld the words. He threw it into the fire and ordered Cappy to burn the seed and not send it back or use it.

"No!" Aspen shrieked. "Why not put it to use? We must feed our people and this is our only hope against starving. Please think of them!"

"I think of you! I want them to do nothing to harm you. Acceptance is giving them a tie to us. They may want a portion of what we reap. But I fear that what they will want is you, Aspen. _That_ I could not bear," he ended with a whisper.

"However, the good of one is never good for the many. We all must eat, Thorne."

"And we will. I have been thinking about solutions to our dilemma. All the men will go forth and hunt and pool the meat to be rationed out throughout the winter as well as the remainder of the flour and grain. Any vegetables and fish will be done the same. We can survive without St. Michael. Let us try!"

Aspen shook her head. "You have achieved their respect. They look to you for protection and safety. We cannot have families starving because of rationing. It does not work. Use the seed, burn the bad seed in its stead. I beg you to do this," she countered.

"You are asking me to pretend this letter of theirs never came."

"Aye."

Thorne threw her an incredulous look and a smile played on her soft lips and he could not refuse her. He gave Cappy the new orders to have the seed distributed to the farmers to have planted straight away.

Aspen returned to her mother's side and relieved Mary for a spell. She began to think on the events of the last couple of days. She stood and walked to the window to stare out at the disheveled village below. The streets were all but deserted in the morning sun. Max was plowing his field, Sarah was fetching the eggs from the hens, and old mister Hobble was smoking his tobacco in a chair on his porch. She could hear the surf pounding the sandy shore under the cliffs. She took in a breath of fresh sea air and a soft moan floated to her on the still air of the castle. She snapped her head to her mother and saw her move. She rolled her head toward Aspen, but her eyes remained closed. Aspen quickly sat beside her once again and took her hand.

"Mama, if you can hear me, please squeeze my hand. Come on, use your hands and squeeze with all your might!" she coached.

Suddenly, her mother's eyes flew open. Aspen let out a gasp of surprise and began to talk to her once more. She noticed that the pupils of those blue eyes grew small, to filter out the bright sun light. Aspen smiled and laughed and reached out to hold her to her. She hugged her for some time and then ran to get the doctor.

Doctor Love burst into the room with Aspen at his heels. Lyndsay had moved yet again, rolling her entire body onto her side. The doctor smiled in satisfaction of her progress and proceeded to examine his patient more closely.

"She is doing much better indeed, my lady. We can hope she will be mended in no time. I hope to see more steady progress in her from here on out. I will stay and watch her. Go take a rest and I will fetch you if she does even better," he coaxed.

Aspen nodded and let her hand rest on the handle of the door.

"Aspen!" came a harsh whisper. "Please don't go!"

Tears flooded her eyes and she could not contain them. She stared back at her mother and saw her licking at her dry lips. Her mother had spoken to her and wanted her to stay. Her broken heart began to mend in seeing her mother thrive with life.

### Chapter 8

Aspen stayed at her mother's side for the evening and on into the night, talking about all that had happened after her departure from Rose Hill. Her mother listened intently for as long as she could stay awake and even when she had nodded off, Aspen still whispered to her. When sleep finally came to claim her as well, she left the room, taking note of the dinner Mary had left for her many hours earlier, which she did not touch.

Aspen had seen very little of Thorne that day and found that she missed his presence. She opened the door to her room and found a fire blazing and her bed turned down for her...secretly she wanted a bath but knew that at that hour she was unlikely to get one.

She slipped into her dressing room and lit the candle, choosing her gown wisely to sleep in. The nights were still cool although summer was nearly upon them. Her eyes strayed to the hidden door that connected her chamber to Thorne's. She could see the outline and the invisible latch. She pressed her palms upon it hoping to feel some sign of strength in Thorne. She felt none. She sighed and let her forehead rest upon the door, closing her eyes.

"Is something ailing you, my lady?" asked a familiar husky voice behind her.

Aspen spun to face this man she knew she was destined to be with forever more. A smile teased his lips and made her aware of feelings she had never known were there or even possible. Her heart hammered against her chest and her breathing came fast until she felt faint. An overwhelming urge to kiss him came over her and she flew into his arms and he received her. She stared for but a moment allowing his scent, his look and his love wash over her until she was so elated she could no longer contain herself. She pressed her lips to his and savored the feel of his passion. Thorne in turn reacted the same way and quickly became breathless and giddy. He openly deepened her kiss and she willingly opened her mouth to him. She was so soft to him and she seemed to glow in the candle's light, like an angel from heaven.

That thought brought him back to his senses, knowing God was not smiling down on him right then. He would not take her until they had been wed. As soon as the time was right, he would make her his in every way.

He had pulled away from her and she crossed her arms over her chest feeling some shame and looking at him inquisitively. His head fell a tad and he looked at her from under thick lashes not knowing what to say. She was troubled...he could feel it from her. What had he done? He decided to clear his throat and change the topic.

"I hear your mother woke this morning."

Her hands flew into the air in a futile gesture and she stalked away to climb into bed.

"What, darling? I don't understand you," he soothed.

"Nay, my lord, it is _I_ that does not understand _you_ ," she growled.

"Please talk to me. What is bothering you so?"

She bolted up in her bed to a sitting position, a wild fire of fury conjured in her eyes. "Am I not what you want after all? Am I not beautiful enough for you? Not experienced enough for you? What? What is so wrong with me that when I cast myself to your mercies that you have no desire for me?"

He reeled back as if he had been slapped by her and was speechless. With his eyes wide and staring he thought about what she had just revealed to him.

"Aspen, I thought I was being honorable toward you. I had been trying to control myself in your presence. I have been waiting until a day when our union will be perfect. Now is not that time. You are my everything anymore. I cannot think of life being the way it has been for so many years again. And I have no intentions of making you my mistress. I thought that was clear."

"I suppose that thought doesn't bother me near as much as I once let it. I have come to care for you more than I had ever let myself care for anyone...save my brother and sister. I foolishly had thought that you cared for me as well," she whispered.

"But darling, I do care and that is what I am trying to tell you. I wish to make different things happen for us, and you wish to make things happen for me. You are so unselfish that you think not of yourself and the image that it would portray. You simply think of my happiness."

"I can never be anything more than I have been born into, and that was nothing. You are powerful, handsome, and a wonderful leader. I only want to be here for you."

"As you will be, I promise," he placed his hands behind her neck and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. "And my lady, you are a far cry from 'nothing'. You are the most regal woman I have ever seen that was not a born and trained noble."

"That is what I am saying to you. I am not a noble. You can have your pick of any other and yet you are blinded and pursue me," she said as she cast her eyes to the floor.

"Aye, I am blinded. I am blinded by the radiance of your beauty and the way you make my heart sing for you. Your sweetness fills my eyes and blinds me from reality. I wish it to never stop. Please, do not think I do not love you, for I have professed such things to you before this moment. To me, you are the core of life. The sun shines, the birds fly, the waves crash, because you are here and alive. I will know in an instant if you ever die, for nothing else around me would exist. You...complete me." He paused a moment and a smile played over his lips as memories flooded his mind. "You truly have no idea how hard it has been for me to control myself around you, Aspen. I desire you every waking moment and yet I hold back and wait to protect your reputation. Does that not deserve your compassion?"

Her eyes looked back to him and she knew he was being truthful. A tear glistened in the corner of her eye as her heart was so touched by sentiment. She drew a deep breath being naught for words and laid her head upon her pillow. Thorne stroked her hair, and then he kissed her forehead.

"I am so glad your mother is going to be fine. Rest well, my lady," he whispered as he took his leave of her.

The sound of bells clanging in the summer morning roused Aspen from a deep sleep. She felt as though she had just closed her eyes and magically it was morning. She could recall no dreams, only the best night's rest she had had in a very long time. It was the Sabbath and the bells were calling the flock to the devotional. Aspen jumped from her bed to find a bath steaming for her and her best dress laid out for her free of wrinkles. She drew her nightdress off and stepped into the hot water with rose oil. The scent of the flower invaded her senses and an increasing calm passed over her. She took the soap and washed, stepped out and dried with the towel by the fire. Mary appeared to help dress her lady and fashion her hair. She needed to look her best in front of God.

There seemed to be a cheerful energy floating in the air as the entire village readied for the first church service in many a year. All forgot their toils and burdens to come unto the Lord on the holy day. Aspen was amazed at the smiles on the faces of the villagers and the conversation between them. All were happy and they had hardly even started improving their lives. Aspen sat with Thorne and crossed her arms against the growl of her stomach as they fasted this first day of worship.

Her thoughts returned to her mother who lay alone in her bed. Aspen heard that the priest had been in to speak with her and deliver a small sermon to her earlier. She harbored a twinge of guilt in not seeing her before she came to the chapel. As soon as it was over, she would sit with her for a spell and try to find some answers for the events that led to her mother's illness.

Love thy neighbor as thyself was the topic of the sermon that morning. A hint to all that the seed that was given was a blessing and that they should feel no ill will toward their neighboring village in light of their generous gift. To forgive and turn the other cheek was saintly. Thorne silently fumed at the choice of sermons and nearly wondered why he invited religion back into his village. He stole a glance around the congregation and although his people were dressed shabbily, they all smiled and nodded in agreement with the priest. He shrugged and inwardly remarked that lessons can be learned, but easily forgotten.

After the service was concluded, and the farewells were said, Aspen stole to her room to change into a simple yellow muslin gown. She could hardly wait to speak with her mother.

Aspen cracked the door of her mother's chamber and peered in. All was quiet, not a soul was there, save her mother in a fit of sleep. She slipped in and secured the door behind her. Sitting beside her mother, she held her hand.

"Mother, could you wake for a moment? I have a need to talk with you. I need some answers."

Lyndsay's eyes fluttered open and a smile touched her chapping lips.

"Ye are so beautiful, Aspen. I look upon ye and I wonder 'ow I could have birthed such a wonder," she whispered.

Aspen returned her smile. "Mother, I need to know what happened to Da. Why did he leave? Where is he?"

The light drained from Lyndsay's eyes and her smile faded. "I knew ye would come with these questions. I had only hoped to not have to answer them.

"To be truthful, I know not where he is. He went on a run to the village and never returned. I waited fer days and I have never seen 'im since. I assume he is dead. He took nothing with him, no clothing, no food, no possessions."

"When I was at the house, all of his things were gone, save for his ring of wedlock."

"When he would not come back, I took 'is things and burned 'em in anger. His ring had been left by the basin when he last washed. I do not know why I saved it, but I did.

The Earl St. Michael came by asking if I was all right and where Vatric was. I had no answers for him. He came back every day and brought me food and fresh water. Some time after, he came by and told me he would give me a house and servants in exchange for being his mistress. I was angry and told him no. He never came back and I was afraid to venture out alone. I kept my fire out and ate only what I had, some bread, some fruit, and still Vatric did not come back. Despair came over me and I took to my bed. I had no reason to get out with my entire family gone from me. Sleep came easily and the cold through the night was painful. I do not remember much more. I am so tired."

"Thank you, mother," she said and kissed her cheek. "Get some more rest."

As she turned to leave, she noticed a tear escape her mother's closed eyes. Her life had been so sad and empty and Aspen resolved to change that.

So Vatric was dead. The fight within her, the thoughts of killing him or letting him live, left her weary and she wished to be alone. She tried to walk in the gardens, but they were no comfort to her. They were still overgrown and uncared for. The struggle for life in the garden made her all the more gloomy. She wandered to the stable and asked to be saddled up. The stable boy looked at her oddly and did as he was told. She did not utter another word, but climbed atop the horse and trotted off for a place she could think. She made her way down the road that wound down around the outskirts of the village. She could hear the waves crashing on the shore below her until it was pounding in her ears as well. She came to the foot of the road where the carriage had stood so long ago, it seemed. She rode the horse to a tree and slipped from the saddle to the sand and tied the reins to a branch. She patted the horse's nose and spoke sweet things to it before she left him to watch the water. It seemed to roar at her for trespassing.

"I will not let you conquer me!" she screamed above the surf. "You bested me once, you will not again!" She picked up a piece of driftwood and hurled it into the murky depths of the green waters. The water was undisturbed and merely swallowed the wood as it had swallowed her. She tied the bottom of her dress and kicked off her slippers to wade in the cool foam on the beach. Starfish littered the beach and one by one she tossed them back into the shelter of the mighty ocean. Soon, the waves seemed to come faster and come up farther on the sand. Aspen lost her courage and retreated to her slippers. She walked along beside the water and saw the rock of Thorne's. She sat upon it to draw some knowledge or wisdom from the blood upon the rock. She drew her knees in and rested her elbows upon them and in turn let her chin fall into her palms to ponder the information she had been given. She felt lost and without purpose. All she had thought about was finding her wretched father and killing him herself. Now, she found he was already dead, but she could not let her trepidation go. She felt a wanderer with nothing left to fight for. And yet, she thought of her father lying on the side of a road or drug off by wild beasts to be eaten, and pitied him. It was horrible enough to die, but to be lost and decaying alone was worse but those thoughts made her grieve in her own way.

And what of her siblings? Where were they now? Her thoughts of murdering her own father had shadowed her curiosity for them. They were the reason for returning to her parents' home. Aspen would make a point to ask her mother about them in the morning.

How she longed for the days of warmth in the woods playing with friends and spinning wild tales of fantasy. She missed her grove where the trees circled her in protection. That was her castle and no one could penetrate it for the magic that surrounded it when she was there. She wondered of Jenessa and Rachel and what Fate had dealt them. She thought of Rayven and the first time she had seen him and what he had done to her heart. She thought of the corruption in his eyes the last time she had seen him and a shudder stole through her. As she thought of him, the clouds seemed to cover the sun's face and block out its warmth and light.

The sun began to sink into the horizon when Aspen became more aware that the time was late and yet she had no desire to go back. She heard voices in the distance above her on the cliff. They came nearer and nearer and she could tell that it was her name that was shouted. Still, she did not move from the rock. It seemed to hold her there as if absorbing all of her misfortune. Torches filled the dusk on the beach and her name rolled forth with a sense of urgency. Suddenly, there was Thorne screaming for her at the water's edge. As if he felt her, he turned and stared right at her. She was not seeing all that was happening, but her eyes were looking all around her. She saw him run to her and she did not want to move. The look in his eyes was not promising. His hair had come undone and swirled around his shoulders as he knelt before her.

"I have been so worried about you, darling. I knew not where you were. We have been searching for hours to find you for I have horrible tidings for you."

"What has happened?" Aspen asked without looking at him.

"God came and took your mother as she slept this afternoon. She was gone when Mary came to give her something to eat. I am so sorry, Aspen."

Her eyes flipped to his face and remorse danced on her own.

"No, you are mistaken. I just talked to her this morning after devotional. She gave me the information I needed to put together the puzzle of my father's disappearance. I just talked with her and she was very much alive. And, then I left her. I left her alone."

Thorne was alarmed at her reaction. She was such a strong girl and here she blabbered like she was insane. She shook her head and denied that Lyndsay was dead. Thorne took her hand and helped her to stand, slipping his arm around her for support. She seemed so weary and defeated.

He called off the search and sent her horse back with Cappy. Then, he set her astride his own stallion and seated himself behind her for the walk home.

The night was dark when they reached the bailey of the castle. Thorne hopped from the saddle and helped Aspen down after him. The stable lad ran forth and took the reins to put the beast up for the night. Aspen turned to Thorne and looked at him, sanity once more shining in her eyes so jeweled.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I wish to see her."

"Aspen, she has been with Father Goodson this afternoon, she will not appear herself."

"I care not! I wish to see her one last time before they box her up! Are you going to stand there and tell me I cannot see my own mother before she is buried? You may not have had that luxury in your life but there is no reason I cannot see her now."

Thorne bowed his head, knowing he would bear the brunt of her frustrations for the grieving period. He wrapped his arm about her slender shoulders and led her to the chapel. Father Goodson was kneeling before Christ, a special blessing of peace floating on the still air around them for Lyndsay. He finished and crossed himself to stand. He had heard her come in, had he not, he could have felt her presence. He turned to the two of them, both stricken with so much sadness.

"I am sorry for your loss, my child," he soothed.

"Father, I wish to see her to say good-bye."

Father Goodson looked from her to Thorne for approval and then smiled. "Then that is my wish to grant for today. Follow me," he beckoned.

They walked to the front of the chapel and slipped with in a hidden door in the wall. They took a flight of steep stairs down to a landing lit with torches and past many doors before they came to an open door with a man inside holding instruments and a strong smelling concoction. Father Goodson went ahead of them and drew up the sheet to her mother's chin and motioned for them to come in.

Aspen broke from Thorne's arms and took her mother's face in her hands. She was no longer soft, but rigid and cold. The tears welled within her eyelids and spilled forth dotting her mother's face. She stroked her forehead and smoothed her hair all the while, the sadness building within her, twisting her heart in her breast until she was sure it finally rent into two. She gazed at her a moment...at her closed eyes, the faint smile upon her lips the aura of peace that came from her empty body that lay so hauntingly still. Aspen smiled back at her as she remembered how she had opened her eyes that morning and told her how beautiful she was and then she thought of how she would never again feel her mother's gaze upon her and her smile faded. Aspen hiccupped then and sobs shook her body. She rested her cheek on her mother's cold one and kissed her smile to say good-bye.

"I love you to heaven and back, always," she whispered and Thorne came forth to take her to her room. As they passed the tearful priest, she looked to him with a great deal of pain behind those wet eyes and said, "Father, I am lost. I am so lost and I know not what to do."

"My child," said he, as a single tear rolled forth and down his face, "she is not gone from you. She has simply removed herself from the puppet of mortal life and has gone to start anew in paradise. Close your eyes...can you not feel her beside you holding your hand? She is there. God stands on your right hand and she stands on your left. They will catch you when you stumble through life, they will lift you up when you are beaten down."

"Father, I feel nothing but pain. We saved her. I do not understand," she wept.

"You will never understand."

"We brought her here to save her, to give her a new beginning, to show her love. Her life has been miserable and I wanted to see her happy."

"Aspen, what you have just said is quite selfish. Her entire life she gave for you, loved you and worried for you. Don't you think she is saved? Don't you think she has begun a new life, has been shown the love of our Creator? What about the family members she has not seen in many years and who have been waiting for her time when they could embrace her once again? I think the smile on her lips at her death says that she is happy and finally at peace."

"My heart is torn in two and empty. I need her here with me, I cannot go on alone!"

"I want you to go to bed and sleep. Do not get out of bed until you are wanting to be out of bed. You must heal before you can do for others, but know that you will never be alone again, for she is by your side and she holds your hand when things go awry."

Thorne nodded his agreement and led his weeping love to her chambers.

At her door Aspen turned to Thorne.

"I am glad you are here but I would like to have some time to think."

Inside, Thorne was wounded. All he wanted was to be there for her. Last eve, she was offering herself to him and now she was shutting him out. He sighed deeply and left her there at her door with a heavy heart. Now he was the one who felt lost. He would give her some time and hoped she would bounce back and become the joy she had been...again.

Aspen watched him go with his head hung and she felt a jab of shame as she had dismissed him like a servant. She only wanted some time. She got ready for bed with the help of Mary, who expressed her sorrow to her over the happenings. She laid down on her pillow and waited for Mary to leave and cried until she fell into a deep slumber filled with dreams and visions and probably memories tied together.

She slept late the next morning and woke to the sound of birds chirping. She closed her eyes against the noise and found that she could hear waves on the cliff and voices in the distance. Yes, she could hear hammers on wood and hammers on metal and children playing. She pulled the coverlet up to her chin and laid there to fall back to sleep when she felt a hand on her head. Instantly, peace washed over her, such as she had never felt before. She opened her eyes and expected to see Thorne there and she saw nobody. She smiled as she realized that her mother was there beside her and she felt as if a giant weight had been taken from her.

Mary bustled in and had a bath ready in no time at all. Aspen bathed, dressed and plaited her hair quickly to meet Thorne. Mary cast her eyes down at the mention of his name.

"What is it, Mary?"

Mary searched her mind for the right words. "His lordship went into the village at first light this morning. He didn't think you would be feelin' yerself, my lady. He took with him the carriage and the horses."

"No matter, Mary. Choose me a dress I can work in and slippers I can walk in," she smiled.

Mary was unsure if her mistress was really all right, but it was her job to do as she was told. She chose a dark blue dress and plain black slippers.

"Ye must be hungry, my lady. Might I find ye a bite to eat?"

"Mayhap a small bit of bread, nothing more," Aspen answered.

"Ye must drink too," she protested.

"I shall get a drink in the village."

"I can get ye a small skin o' water."

"Does Thorne pay you to argue with me? Do you argue with him as often as you argue with me?"

Mary blushed in shame. "'Scuse me, my lady." She bobbed a curtsy and hurried off to the kitchen.

Shortly thereafter a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in," she called.

Father Goodson floated in with his hands folded within his sleeves. A twinkle lightened his blue eyes to the color of clear blue pools at midsummer. There was a rose in his cheeks that was absent last night. Aspen smiled at him and ran to him with an embrace of thanks.

"You appear much more yourself today, child," he said.

"I felt her, Father. I felt her hand on my head this morning. I feel calm and at peace and I thank you for your words of comfort."

"You are very welcome, my dear girl. I have come to speak about the burial arrangements. Where is she to be buried? I know that Thorne is expecting her to be buried here by the chapel. Is that all right with you?"

"'Tis fine. If I took her back to Rose Hill, she would be very lonely indeed. I only wish her to be buried on a day of rest. She worked her entire life. She deserves a day to be celebrated in her passing and a day of rest seems appropriate."

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I agree whole heartedly. We will plan for that."

Aspen nodded and Mary returned with a cloth wrapped around a piece of bread and butter. Aspen took it and started for the village.

Once she was on the road to the commotion, she pulled on the bread until it was gone. Then she licked each finger and wiped them on the cloth that had been wrapped around it. She also had found a small water skin and as she cursed her maid, she was thankful that she was so well taken care of. She did trod along at a healthy pace and caught herself humming a tune that her mother would sing to her when she was ill. The sun's rays caressed her shoulders as she walked and the salty breeze tickled her face. It felt marvelous to be outside and the smile that adorned her face proved it.

She rounded a bend in the road and could see the villagers all taking part in the renovations. Thus far, they had rebuilt three homes and were moving the families back into the structures. The children were running through the roads laughing and playing in the sunshine. She spotted Thorne and Cappy looking at maps and plans. They would run their fingers over the papers and talk and then point into the distance and talk some more. Thorne caught a glimpse of her as two children ran around her, one clutching at her skirts trying to decide how to best get away. Aspen crouched to their level, splayed her fingers like claws and growled at them with amusement in her eyes.

"You had better run while you still can, for I will get you myself!" she threatened in fun.

The children's eyes grew wide as saucers and screeched in playful fear as they ran away, leaving Aspen laughing until her insides ached. Thorne flashed her his teeth in a smile and came to her staring in wonder at her miraculous recovery.

"I thought you would not be joining us today, my lady. How can it be that even when tragedy strikes at you repeatedly, that you seem to walk away from it with a larger smile each time?" he asked her.

"I feel comfort at last, as if the weight of the world has been taken from my shoulders and I feel alive and vibrant!" she breathed as she spun on one foot.

Thorne laughed loud and merrily, which made her heart skip in rhythm. "Well, come! See what your people have done with the place. They have all been working together and have accomplished much this morning." He took her hand and led her to the new homes that were now standing where shacks had stood just hours before.

The first house was Max and Lila's. Aspen remembered the poverty in their home and the sadness that enveloped it. Lila bent to lift a chest and spotted Aspen coming inside her gate. Lila beamed at her lady and cocked her head toward the house in an invitation to come inside. Aspen waved to her in answer and grabbed a chair on her way in.

Lila curtseyed to her and Thorne.

"Stand up and show me your new home, Lila!" Aspen said.

"I just cannot believe 'ow pretty it is," she said spreading her arms wide. Aspen smiled and took a deep breath letting the smell of fresh cut wood fill her senses. There were no cracks between the slats of the walls, the fireplace was stone from floor to the ceiling and the floor was wood as well instead of dirt. Along the back wall there was a hutch for her meager dishes and utensils and a table with four chairs around it and a lantern lit upon the table's surface. On either side of the massive room there was a doorway. Aspen peeked inside the one on her left and found a straw bed with a quilt spread neatly over it and two pillows propped along the wall. Two chests sat against the wall by the door and two small tables hugged the bed on either side topped with candles for light. Aspen saw a book lying on one and stepped into the room to see what it was. It was a book of parchments, and as she opened it up to a page she found that it was full of passages of the Bible. Lila must have spent her life writing the passages and compiling them into a book that looked to be well used. Even though they had lived so poorly for so long, they never lost their faith. Even though they were not able to have a child, they still believed in God.

As if knowing what Aspen was thinking, Lila took her hand. "My lady," she began, "You came to us surely by the grace o' God. I should ne'er doubt Him again. I did, you know, doubt me faith. And one day, an angel appeared and made a blackened heart beat again and made it so we could all eat. We can ne'er forget ye. I am so sorry 'bout yer mum."

Aspen sniffed to keep the tears at bay and turned to this sweet woman who would become a mother in short order. "I shall never leave you unless it is the will of his lordship."

Lila smiled in comfort knowing life would be happy. "Oh! This o'er here is a room for a babe, if we e'er have one. His lordship said we needed two rooms. And, I gots a back door AND a porch out there!"

Aspen was elated that they were so thrilled over their house. She spied a broom in the corner, which was filthy after years of sweeping a dirt floor. That would not do. She said her farewells and went outside to find a stick. She asked a farmer for a mound of straw and some twine. Sitting on a log, she put the straw all together and wound the twine around the stick and the straw to fashion a new broom for Lila's pretty floor. The children had become curious and had come to sit beside her to watch. Soon, they were making brooms for the other villagers too. Aspen delivered Lila's to her and she received a hug from her in appreciation.

The day wore on and there was never a lack for anything to do. With several hundred villagers in Cliffehaven, improvements and tasks would take a long while. Perhaps even months. The new inn was being discussed and a tavern. The shop owners were assigned and a village council was formed. The head of the council was Ladin, a strong man with a stout heart. He was to meet with Thorne on issues and the needs of the people on a weekly basis. He was also the smithy and was instructed to make new swords for the men of the guard. Ladin knew this would bring a pretty pence into his purse and gladly accepted the assignment.

A woman by the name of Neva was given the task of outfitting the villagers with a Sabbath and a daily outfit. Thorne paid her in advance to speed her work along. She counted the coins as high as she could go and nearly swooned when there were still coins in her hand uncounted. She curtseyed again and again, pushing aside her desire to hug Thorne in gratitude.

Frank, a man skilled in the work of leathers, was given the job of making shoes for the villagers. Two pair each, one for church and one for work or play.

Trinity, a young woman who had grown up in the village was chosen to be the schooling teacher for the children and any adults wanting to learn their letters and figures. She had gone abroad to the Northern Border and was taught by the monks in the monastery there until she decided to come back home and reside with her parents until they passed not long ago. She was very learned of many subjects and the parents of the children were overjoyed to have her teaching their little ones.

Thorne and Aspen did not return to the castle until darkness had defeated them. The carriage rolled along the road swaying to the rhythm of the mounds and valleys in it.

"Your people adore you, my lord," Aspen commented.

"Nay, they tolerate me. The love their angel sent to them by God. That is what they call you. You are their angel as you are mine," he replied.

A smile touched her lips at his words and she slid in her seat to rest within his strong arms that came to circle her shoulders. "I really am happy, Thorne. I know I have been difficult for you these days, but I am happy."

"I have never been happier in all my life, Aspen. Promise me you will never leave me?"

"As long as I am bid to stay, I will, my lord," she sighed sleepily.

"That did not sound like a promise to me," he chuckled.

She sat up to look at his glorious face in the moonlight. "I promise you that I will not leave you."

Thorne escorted his lady to her rooms and took his leave of her to find his own bath. She looked so tired to him after her day of hard work that he almost offered his hand of help to her. Still, he knew that Mary would be there with her bath waiting, so he gently kissed her lips and left her.

Aspen tried to recover quickly from the lack of breath and the speeding of her heart as she opened her chamber door. She slipped inside, shut the door, and her eyes closed in memory of the sweet passion they shared as she fell back against it for support. She could hear the fire snapping in the fireplace and the smell of roses and wildflowers came to her on the air. She opened her eyes to ready for her bath and a gasp of surprise nearly choked her. There, her room was filled with flowers of all kinds.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" asked Mary beaming at her.

"Who--What--" Aspen stammered.

"They are from the castle staff an' the entire village to offer ye their condolences."

Aspen walked around her room admiring every flower in every vase until she spotted one particular bouquet. She had to stoop to pick it up and it appeared to be the only one without water. She stared at it as a smile touched her face and a tear gathered in the corner of her eye. It was a small gathering of weeds held together by the sash off of a dress. It was a child's gift and the dearest one to her. It was the kind of gift she would have given as a child being poor but not uncharitable.

"Why is this one out of water, Mary?" she asked.

A look of uneasiness came across her maid's face. "I will fetch it straightaway, Aspen."

"That is not what I asked you. I asked you why. Is it because it is the most ugly? The poorest? This bunch of flowers is the most special to me because a child with no money gave this to me with love in her heart. She went into the meadows to choose the flowers she plays in, the ones that are the dearest to _her_ , and she picked them for me. And then, she went back home and tied them together with her sash that held her dress to her body. Yes, I would like some water for these and when they at last die, I will find the little girl that gave these to me by matching her sash to her dress and then I will hug her to me and tell her that they were my most favorite of all and that she eased the pain in my heart because of her gift."

Shame burdened Mary's shoulders and they slumped in embarrassment. She curtsied and hurried to fetch the water. Aspen, however, would not wait for her return and took the richest, most vibrant of all the flowers, laid them on the table and took the vase to her bedside to poke the stems inside. She stared at them in wonder until Mary had at last returned.

Mary saw her in the firelight as she walked in and realized that she had taken the roses from herself out of their vase. She replaced the roses into the new vase and a new wave of guilt washed over her. She should have known her lady would have felt that way.

"Mary, I am so sorry to have made you feel so badly. Please do not think I do not like you or that I am angry with you, for I am not," Aspen whispered.

It brightened Mary some and she helped her lady out of her gown and into her steaming bath that sported fully bloomed roses floating in the water.

Aspen and Thorne spent the next three days in the village and managed to finish the structures and the planting, then spent the next two days cobbling the main road with flat stones. Thorne asked Aspen to lay the last stone into the ground and a massive shout went up from the people young and old in celebration of all their hard work. They were at last finished and just in time for the Sabbath. Aspen stood and eyed the village for as far as they all could see and marveled at its transformation in merely a matter of days. A great swelling of pride filled her chest and she laughed and cheered with the people.

Thorne reveled in her joy and drew her into his arms, spinning her in circles. She shrieked and begged to be put down to the ground again. She looked him in the eyes and whispered to him, "You did it, my lord."

"Nay, dear heart, you did it. You did it all."

The cheering died to murmuring as the people disbursed to their new homes, buzzing excitedly of their new life and praising Aspen's name.

The morning light woke Aspen from her dreams and as her eyes fluttered open, she was met with a dismal day. It was the Sabbath, but it was the day her mother was to be buried. Rain fell in torrents and muddied the ground in the bailey. The sky was nearly black with angry clouds and it was all the sun could do to filter a small amount of its rays through the dismal masses. Mist clung to the homes below in the village so one could not make out whether there was smoke coming from the chimneys or merely the fog rising from the ground.

Mary burst in with a pot of water and John behind her pushing the great wooden tub. He set the tub in its place and Mary placed the pot on the hook in the fireplace to warm.

"I will bring up the next pot for you, Mary," said John.

Mary smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, John."

Aspen could sense the love they shared and had probably shared for some time and could never do a thing about it. They had been told long ago that there was no romance that could go on. She felt badly for them, being in love but trapped in a life that could not warrant a union between them.

Mary bustled about choosing the perfect dress in which to mourn her lady's loss in. She opened the trunk containing the gowns and pulled forth a black linen dress. It had no underskirt, but the skirt itself was full and required a petticoat to be worn beneath. It had an empire waist but no sash and the sleeves were long, full, and draped nearly to the floor. Aspen had never worn this dress before and for the amount of sadness it emanated, she hoped she would never have to wear it again. She sighed heavily and hurried it to the washroom to have the wrinkles removed in short order.

Aspen watched the elements outside her window and a thought came to her in the gloominess. She could see the flowers in her room were all but dead and the symbolism of those dying buds was too special to merely throw them out. She decided that every last one of them would be buried with her mother and then as her mother rested in peace, the love of the castle and the village would accompany her forever. A faint smile came to her face in thinking of this plan.

Mary returned and dumped the water into the tub. It wasn't quite warm yet, but it was better than being brutally cold. John brought with him two more pots of water and he was quite out of breath. He took the empty one and went to refill it. Mary dumped one pot in and set the other in the fire. Aspen watched in amazement. She had had to prepare baths before, but she had wondered how it was done in such a large place. She had never paid attention and it was usually done and waiting for her when she woke or came in.

Mary curtsied low to her in greeting. "'Mornin' my lady. Sleep well?"

Aspen could sense that something was not quite right. "Perfectly, Mary. What is going on this morning?"

Mary became red in the face. "Pardon, but I don't know what ye mean, my lady."

"What I mean is, I have never woken and not had a bath ready for me. The chill in the air seems to me that a fire had just been set before I woke. I have never seen John help you before and you usually call me Aspen and not my lady. Would you like to tell me what is going on this morning?" A smile wanted to form on her mouth and she tried hard to steel herself against it, although her eyes would have given her merriment away if Mary had but looked at her instead of the ground.

To her surprise Mary fell to the ground upon her knees and cried mumbling about forgiveness and his lordship's wrath. The playfulness left Aspen's eyes and wonder grew in its stead. She took Mary's head in her hands and coaxed her to calm and tell her exactly what was wrong.

"Well, John and I know how his lordship feels about bein' in love but more so his servants bein' in love. But John and I so love each other and at the risk of bein' banished, we went off an' got ourselves married last eve after the castle went off to bed. I'm late this morn 'cause we spent the night at the water and fell asleep until dawn woke us both in a panic. Please, my lady, don't tell his lordship." The fear in her eyes softened Aspen's heart.

"I am very happy for you, Mary. I hope you are both happy. I, myself, see nothing wrong with your marriage. I only wish we could celebrate it properly. What happens though, when you become pregnant? How will I then explain it to Thorne without making him angry at me as well? However, it raises my spirits some to know that something happy could come of a day full of so much sorrow."

"My lady, I understand if ye need to tell. We can move to the village and raise crops if we must."

Mary stood to pour the other pot of water into the tub. John burst in with the next pot that was already warm.

"Cook warmed this one down in the kitchens," he said avoiding Aspen's face.

"Tell Cook thank you, please. I'll need no more water this morning."

"But, my lady, the tub is hardly full yet," Mary said in a near panic.

"'Tis just fine, Mary. There is plenty here to bathe in," Aspen replied.

John bowed to her and threw a glance at Mary who was near to tears again, then took his leave of them.

"Mary," Aspen began as Mary helped her from her nightdress. "I feel that Thorne may take your news rather well. He may even spare your employment. But I will talk with him myself and see if I can smooth things over. But, I never want this sort of dishonesty to go on again. I am making no promises to you except that I will speak with him and plead your case to him."

Despite her nudity, Mary hugged Aspen and stammered her thanks and tears of joy and relief streamed down her face. Aspen laughed and pushed Mary away from her gently and climbed into the cooling waters. Gooseflesh prickled her skin from head to toe. She shivered and set about washing quickly. After lathering her hair, Mary poured the last of the pots of warm water over Aspen's head. The warmth felt wonderful and she goose bumped again in the pleasure of it. Mary hurried off to fetch the dress and Aspen lay there, silent and thinking of how to change Thorne in his ways of opposing marital bliss. She drew herself from the water and wrapped up in a towel to sit in the chair by the fire. For all that had happened in the last months, she silently wished that Thorne would ask for her hand.

A knock sounded at Aspen's door some time later after she had been dressed in her gown of sorrow and her hair had been put up out of her face. Mary opened the door and Thorne came in to escort her to the chapel. He stole her breath from her chest as she beheld him standing there in front of her. His hair was pulled back at his nape, his once haunted eyes staring at her warmly, his delicious lips set so regally. He wore a tunic of black silk with full sleeves that banded at the wrists and that laced at his chest, his black leather breeches hugged his form and displayed for her every muscle from his waist to his knees, where his boots reached shiny and impressive. He strode to her and held out his hand to her.

"May I see you to the chapel, my angel of sorrow?" he grinned at her slyly.

Aspen smiled and allowed her head to drop in embarrassment. She took his hand and lost herself in his black obsidian eyes. "I had hoped you would come for me, my lord."

He smiled a great smile of joy exposing his white teeth against all of his darkness. He remarked to himself how her skin had darkened in her toils in the village. She was no longer so pale, but she was still very beautiful.

Aspen gave her instructions to Mary regarding the flowers...Mary nodded her understanding.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Aspen exclaimed. Mary held her breath and prayed to God for the best to come of it. Aspen walked back to where her small bouquet of dying weeds sat beside her bed and took the sash from them. Mary let her breath escape in a grateful sigh and smiled at her.

Aspen and Thorne strolled at their leisure to the chapel speaking of the village and how much the renovations meant to the people. As they stepped from the stairs, a small head poked back into the chapel and the entire congregation joined together in a hymn of solemn reverence, of the death and sacrifice of Christ. Aspen stopped to put her emotions under control, as that was her mother's favorite hymn. She could hear lutes whistling and leading the people in song, so hauntingly beautiful. Shivers stole up her spine and she began to shake all over. Her chin trembled at the magical piousness that had seemed to overtake the chapel as well as the entire castle. It took all of her will to not shed a tear...yet. Thorne took her by her elbow to lead her to her place of honor. Walking up the aisle between the two rows of pews, villagers bowed to them still immersed in their song. Father Goodson was praying over the box that contained her mother's remains, his cross in one hand and his bible in the other. He turned to them as they neared and Aspen could see that tears stained his holy face and she could bear no more. Her hand flew to her mouth and her brow knitted in grief, a grief she had not expected to follow her anymore. The good Father crossed her and prayed over her head and then in turn crossed Thorne and prayed over him. Thorne helped Aspen sit in her place beside him and offered her a cloth to dry her tears, then seated himself.

Father Goodson stood before the people and offered a sermon on death and paradise and then gave a small eulogy of her mother.

"None of us had the chance to know this woman who birthed our beloved Lady," he said. "But in knowing Aspen, we know her as well. I talked with her when she was strong enough to speak and I learned that her life was very hard, very sad indeed. I feel that we should all be able to know her and I am asking Aspen if she would please share some parts of her mother with us."

Aspen's eyes grew big as saucers and fear gripped at her heart. She could not speak in front of all of these people. Father Goodson came to her and extended his hand to her. She stood and followed the Father to the front of the congregation.

"I know not what I am supposed to say. Today is my mother's birthday. I did not realize that until a moment ago. It is the last day of May. I am so glad that I can put her to rest on the day she was born. She lived such a life of trial and heartache until it poisoned her heart and made her ill. I will miss-" the tears began to fall and she found it hard to talk to these people. "I will miss her lullabies and the way she would brush the tangles from my hair. I will miss watching her sew my clothing or mending a careless tear. I will miss the smell of her evening meals as we would come in after a day in the fields or a day in the meadow. I will miss her laughter and I will even miss her tears. But, I will not miss her love, for she stands beside me and holds my hand and urges me on when I falter. I will feel her love forever. In remembrance of the love you all have shown her and myself, it is my wish that she is put to rest with your gifts of flowers beside her so that she may always feel the love you have shown her." She looked to Thorne who was crying along with the entire village. "I love you all," she whispered and returned to her seat.

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the sound of many sniffles and nose blowings. Not even the sound of children playing wafted on the air. Aspen looked up at the stained glass and it seemed to come alive through her tears. The sun had found its way through to shed some light on such a dreary day making the brilliant colors glimmer and casting them down upon her mother. The Angels had ceased their tears and the rain had stopped, allowing God's light and warmth to touch all present that day.

Father Goodson motioned for all to stand and file out of the doors to the consecrated ground outside. Aspen followed him and then Thorne, followed by the village council and then the rest of the people. Max and three others from the village hefted the box onto a shoulder and the four of them gravely brought Lyndsay out. They carefully set her down beside the ropes that would be used to lower Lyndsay's body into the pit dug for her. They removed the covering of the coffin to lift the body that had been shrouded in white cloths for the burial and laid her upon a board that was placed upon the ropes, the smell of the decaying flesh surrounded the crowd that was gathering. Father Goodson finished his scripture of death and sadness, of the journey this woman was making at that moment. He closed his book and folded his hands in front of him bowing his head. Aspen watched as Thorne left her side to grab a rope to help ease her mother into the ground. She could hardly believe her mother was really gone and yet she was being returned to the ground to be infested and eaten and decayed. She sank to her knees and wept feeling the water and mud on her skin and not caring. Then it was so ordered to drop the flowers in with her and Aspen looked up to see the last of them to be thrown in...the little bunch of weeds and she remembered May Day so many years ago, she would pick bunches of weeds like those and leave them on her mother's doorstep and run hide behind a tree close enough to watch the joy on her mother's face at the gift she received. She had stopped doing it when she was scolded harshly by her father for doing such childish things. He told her to grow up and find better things to do with her free time. That was why that one bouquet was special to her and as the flowers fell from the hands of Mary and into the dirt, Aspen closed her eyes against it pushing her tears from her eyes to glide silently down her face.

Thorne was soon at her side lifting her from the mud and holding her tight. He had wondered how long it would take her before it really hit her that today was the day to say good-bye.

### Chapter 9

Father Goodson closed the ceremony with a prayer of comfort to all and the people flocked to Aspen to offer their love and sympathy, offering to pray for her mother's soul. Aspen remembered the sash in her hand and there, standing with a family about three strides away was the little girl who had no sash for her Sabbath dress. The tattered dress must have been given to her by a sister, or another in the village, for it hung on her tiny body. She held a handful of her mother's skirts stealing shy glances at Aspen, the thumb of her free hand in her mouth. Her eyes were the color of smoke, so light in color bejeweled with specks of a darker color, of which Aspen could not tell. She stared at her with hardship shining combined with compassion and love. Aspen ached to hold this little girl and return her sash to her.

She broke away from Thorne and went to this child who darted around the other side of her mother, who was murmuring to another woman. Aspen squatted and peered around to catch the little one's attention. The girl's head poked around and all Aspen could see of her were her golden locks and her eyes. She could tell she was smiling by the twinkle in her gaze.

"I'll not hurt you, child," said Aspen.

All became quiet and she could feel eyes upon her. The mother of the girl was caught by surprise. Aspen looked into her weathered eyes of gray and smiled at her. "I would merely like to speak with her a moment, if that is all right."

"Of course, my lady. Has she stolen from ye? Has she wronged ye in any way? I'll be sure she is properly punished--"

Aspen held up her hand for silence. The mother grabbed the girl by the arm and forced her around to stand in front of Aspen.

"Well, curtsy, Mira!" she scolded and tapped the back of the child's head. The child did as she was bid and offered a feeble dip of respect. Aspen guessed the child was mayhap six years old.

"Is your name Mira?" The child nodded shyly. "I have wanted to find you and tell you that you are very special to me. Do you know why?" Her locks shook to and fro in wonder. "Because you touched my heart with your thoughtfulness, Mira. I have something for you." She opened her hand to reveal the sash that matched her dress. Mira smiled at her excitedly and Aspen tied it around her waist to once again hold the dress that was too large for her in its place. "I loved your flowers the best and they sat beside my bed until today. But, I will miss them and I was hoping you would go and pick me some more and bring them to me very often. Can you do that?"

Mira took her thumb from her mouth and smiled at her. "But, my lady," she began her voice so soft and sweet, "I 'ave to go to school now."

Aspen smiled at her innocence. "When your schooling is done for the day, do you think you could find the time to pick me some of your beautiful flowers?"

"But, my lady, I 'ave chores."

Aspen laughed out loud and the sound lifted the people's hearts. "I'll tell you what. Could you pick me some flowers after your schooling on your way home to do your chores and then bring them to me before your evening meal? You don't have to every day, but once in a while. And I want you to tell me all about your school."

Mira thought this was a grand idea and threw her arms about Aspen's neck, nearly knocking her backward, but warming her from the inside out. Thorne was moved by the display of open love toward his lady and wanted to shed more than a tear at its sight. The villagers were speechless and smiled fondly because this lady cared enough for their wee ones to converse with them and hug them.

*******

High above them in a tower window peered a face of hatred watching all that was happening. A hand stole to her rounding belly and feeling the life stir within her, she vowed that if she would not live once her babe was born, then neither the babe nor Aspen would live either. She smiled in anticipation wishing she could be there when Thorne could no longer find this peasant he thinks he loves. And when he did find her, she would be cold and stiff and smelly so that he could not bear to look at her or be near her. No good-byes for him, only guilt and pain. She would make him suffer more than he ever had and it would be at her hand. She hoped that all she had been hearing of was being readied.

*******

The villagers were invited to the midday meal in the great hall. Once they had all left to return to their homes, Aspen asked Thorne for a moment of his time. He offered her his arm and she took it willingly as they departed to the study, the one room Aspen had only been in once. Thorne seated her and then took a chair beside hers and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her. He saw how nervous she was and he tried to think of what could have her so uneasy. She began to fidget with her hands and then she looked as though she could not breathe and she stood up and paced a moment.

"My lord, thank you for being such a support to me today. I don't know if I could have made it through the day without you there beside me. I like to think you have changed for the better since I came here with you. You are not the same man, at least not to me. I have stumbled upon a secret that I need to share with you. I only knew of it this morning, but I had no time to tell you of it."

Thorne felt alarmed and yet he felt no danger was to come of this secret of hers. He sat up in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest to intimidate her. It worked. She turned from him and rested her hands on his desk. He found he was staring at her backside...a very attractive backside, small waist, rounding hips. He cleared his throat to bid her to turn around, before he lost control, when she spun on him.

"Thorne, John and Mary have gotten married and still wish to continue working here for you. There, I told you. Mary is so afraid of you that she could not come to you for your permission. I thought that when we have the festival for the planting and the remodel of the village that we could honor their union as well."

Thorne sat there with his mouth still open to tell her to turn around and his eyes wide in shock over this revelation. His workers knew that there was to be nothing like this to happen. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bubble grew within him and he began to chuckle and then laugh. He held his sides until he ached and his cheeks were wet with his merriment. He opened his eyes to see Aspen standing there with her hands on her lovely hips staring at him as if he were crazy. It made him laugh all the harder until she broke as well and joined in his mirth.

When they had sobered some, she spoke. "What was so funny?"

He looked at her with adoration radiating from his entire being. "You were scared of me too, were you not? You were such a whirlwind of words to get it out and over with and all I was thinking of was how adorable your backside was," he laughed again.

Aspen did not understand him at all but blushed at his revelation.

"Well, do you think you could mayhap modify your rules a bit for them?"

"My lady, since you have come here, there have been no rules that applied to anyone. You have bent them to everyone you love, which is ...everyone. You even changed Lilly's fate and you didn't even love her, but you have saved her."

"No, I haven't saved her, I have saved an innocent babe and a childless family in your village. I could not save her if I were a saint."

Thorne could sense the darkness in her coming forth and regretted bringing it up in conversation. "I think you have a great idea. In your plans for the planting festival, include a tribute to our eloping newlyweds and make it clear that all others must ask my permission before they do such things."

The clouds passed from Aspen's face and she was gleaming once again with triumph. She hugged him and thanked him enthusiastically before leaving him there to wonder what had just happened to him.

Aspen skipped up the stairs to her rooms to change to a clean, plain black dress for mourning purposes. The day's sadness had left its mark but in all she felt happy. Mira was the one who pulled her through her dark hour and made her feel happy again. She hummed to herself as she fought a battle with her gown, which was caked in dried mud, until she won. She donned her simple black frock and picked up her looking glass to inspect her hair when Mary came in to prepare a fire for a bath.

"I was just about to come find you, Mary," said Aspen. Mary started and jumped nearly from her skin.

"I did not see ye there, my lady," she replied breathlessly.

"I did not mean to scare you, "Aspen laughed. "I need to talk to you. Come and sit." She gestured for her to sit at the table. They each took a chair and Aspen took Mary's hands. "I talked with Thorne."

Mary's eyes fell to the floor and she drew her hands away. Aspen looked at her troubled.

"What is it? I bring you good news. He sends his blessings and has even told me to honor the two of you at the planting festival. Isn't that wonderful?"

Mary perked up at the tidings and squealed in delight. She jumped from her seat and hugged her clasped hands to her chest turning circles. Aspen stood and Mary hugged her tightly in appreciation.

"I'll be back, I will. I just need to tell John," she rushed and left Aspen standing in the middle of her room.

It was then that the day's events caught up to her and she thought about Mira to keep her thoughts from darkness. She smiled to herself about the small girl in the tattered clothes and wanted to do something special for her. She went to a drawer in her dressing table and pulled a sheet of parchment and her inkwell and feather pen. She sat at the table once again and composed a letter to Chloe in Glendella's Glade asking for a favor. When she had finished, she left the note there to dry and found her wax and seal. She sealed it up and took it to Henry to make sure he could see it off.

"I'll see who I can find, m'lady. His lordship has sent so many of the men off on a journey and I don't know if we have any messenger men left here," he explained to her worriedly.

Disquiet came over her and mayhap a little panic at the news that Thorne had dispatched his guardsmen on a mission of some kind and he had not said a word to her about it. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just do your best, sir. I know you will. If it cannot be sent, be sure to give it back to me straightaway."

"Aye, m'lady," he bowed to her as she returned to her rooms for her bath.

All was in order when she came back and saw that the water was steaming in the tub, a far cry from her bath that morning. She divested herself from her bleak frock and sank into the water with a sigh of contentment. She thought more on what Henry had said about the men that were gone on an errand of some kind for Thorne. The more she wondered, the sleepier she became and woke to Mary stirring the fire. She yawned and stretched her arms and quickly washed her hair in the cooling water. Mary held a blanket for her and wrapped her head in another that had been warmed by the fire.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"'Tis late. The evening meal is waiting to be served. They are awaiting your presence."

"I do not think I wish to go. I think I would rather go to bed."

A bang on the door interrupted their conversation. Mary went and cracked the door, Thorne met her on the other side.

"M'lord, she--" Mary began and was cut short as he forced his way through. Her fear got the best of her and she left, she dared not tempt him a second time that day.

"Aspen, darling, I wanted to be sure you were all right," he cooed at her.

His mood made her uneasy and she thought for a moment he might have an evil twin for she hadn't seen that gleam in his eye for many weeks.

"I am just fine, my lord. I fell asleep in the bath and Mary failed to wake me. The day has been tiring for me. You seem a little different yourself. Are you all right?" She asked.

"I am fine. I was worried by your absence since you are, of course, the guest of honor. This meal is in your mother's memory and everyone is hungry."

"But my lord, it is unlike you to barge in here and linger when I am not decent and the sound of your voice has changed since earlier this afternoon. Are you sure you are fine?" she eyed him nervously.

"I am perfect. I just need you to hurry."

"I think I would rather go to bed. I am so tired."

"I think you had better make an appearance in short order," he countered.

She noticed he was dressed in his formal attire much the same as he wore to the funeral. "Send Mary back in here and I will be ready very quickly."

"That's my girl. Thank you," he said as he kissed her forehead and left bellowing to Mary that she had five minutes to have Aspen ready.

Mary rushed in again and they exchanged looks of wonder at his behavior. Then Mary pulled the gown she wore that morning from a peg in her dressing room all clean and fresh, free of wrinkles and helped her into it. They took no time in drying her hair and plaited it wet knowing it would dry through the course of the night. At last she was ready to go and Mary escorted her to the great hall.

She opened the door for Aspen and watched her sail inside before she entered herself. The entire village was congregated together there and stood clapping for her as she took her seat on Thorne's right hand side. When she had seated herself, Thorne motioned for all the other people to sit as well, but stayed standing. When all was quiet, he began.

"It took a great many years for her to come to us, our Angel, and now that she is here to stay let us offer up our love and our thanks for all she has contributed. Eat, drink and be merry, as the Good Book says, but never forget this woman who made miracles possible." Cheers went up from all sides of the room and Aspen blushed sheepishly. Thorne held up his hands in a gesture for silence once again.

"I am wanting to do something with all of you to bear witness to. When the leaves turn and begin to drop from their trees and the wind chills and becomes fragrant with autumn, I would be the most honored man in this world if Lady Aspen would become my wife." He knelt on his knee and took her hand in his own. He stared into her eyes trying to pretend that she was having as hard a time breathing as he was. "My Lady Aspen, I know this is a bittersweet day, but I must ask...will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

The entire gathering held their breath hanging on every word and looking to her expectedly for her answer. She was unsure if she would be able to answer for she was shaking so badly and her eyes grew moist. She thought of her mother and the quaking leaves of the Aspen tree and how she must look right now shaking as badly as the day she was born.

"I-I would be the honored one, my lord," she managed. "I will marry you."

The cheers that went up that night and the mugs of ale that were guzzled in their celebration put to shame any others in the past. Thorne helped her stand and drew her into his arms, into his circle of love and there in front of all their friends, he kissed her soundly and lovingly.

"I love you and I cherish you as I never thought I could before. I will spend every waking moment making you happy and even in my dreams I will envision ways to make you happy."

"Oh, Thorne, I have never been happier in all my life. You needn't do any more to make me any more content. I love you for you and I want to see you as happy as I am."

"I am so glad I could get you to come down for the meal. I was unsure how I would be able to explain myself," he laughed and gestured to the people sitting once again to eat the lavish food that was prepared.

Everyone ate their fill and drank, in Aspen's opinion, too much ale. She soon began to feel weary and nearly fell into a chair. Mary was immediately by her side.

"Come, let us get ye to bed, my lady," she whispered.

Thorne saw Mary take Aspen by the elbow and lead her out of the hall. "I fear it is late!" he bellowed. "My lady is exhausted. Please go to your homes and rest well! I will see you all very soon!"

Thorne ran to catch Mary as they started up the stairs. "What is going on?" he cried.

"I know not, my lord. She nearly collapsed in there," Mary answered.

"I will get her to her rooms, you fetch the physician."

"Aye, my lord."

"Thorne, I am only tired. It will pass with a night of good rest. Do not waste the doctor's time with such silly ails as this," Aspen reprimanded.

Thorne paid little heed of all she had said and scooped her up into his arms. She was much too tired to argue.

The doctor came at once and examined Aspen quickly, but deftly. He cast his eyes down and shook his head.

"What is it, Doctor?" Thorne asked emphatically.

"I know not, my lord. It appears she is only very tired."

"I told you, Thorne. Now you have wasted his evening simply because I am tired," she sighed.

Doctor Love smiled. "'Tis better to be safe than sorry, my stubborn lady," he jested as he packed his things and took his leave.

"Now, you may go to bed and let Mary help me into my nightdress, my lord," Aspen smiled.

"I love you dearly and I'll not lose you. I'll not take any chances. Rest well and I will see you in the morn." He kissed her lips softly, but his mind was reeling. Something was not right.

The morning was late and moving on into the day when Aspen woke in her bed. She sat and stretched and felt gloriously alive. A fire was burning and her shutters were open, but Mary was not there. She jumped from her bed to begin the festival plans and a dizzy spell took her over. John opened the door and rolled the tub in and dropped it when he saw she about to fall. He raced to her side and caught her before she hit the stone floor.

"My lady, are you all right?" he asked as he helped her stand.

"I am fine, John," she breathed and hoped she sounded convincing. Suddenly aware of her modesty, she crossed her arms across her chest. John cleared his throat and turned to set the tub aright.

"Thank you for your help," she offered knowing she had embarrassed him. He sent her a nod and set out to finish his other duties. She made her way to her drawer and pulled another sheet of parchment and her ink and pen. She sat at her table and chose the date of the festival, the tenth day of June. She made a list of games and entertainment and food. Then, she decided to hold the party in the bailey, unless Thorne decided against it. She sat there a better part of an hour before she saw Mary come in to fix her bath water.

"I was unsure if you would be feeling up to getting out of bed today, Aspen," she said.

Aspen noted that it had been a while since she had been called by her name by Mary.

"I feel just the thing," said Aspen cheerfully and watched the expression on Mary's face remain unchanged.

"I am so glad ye are doin' better. Ye were so tired last eve."

"I was very tired last night, but a night of sleep and I feel myself again," she smiled. There was something not right with Mary. She had changed the last few days and she could not figure it out. She feared to bring it up to Thorne for she didn't want to worry him or get her fired for no reason.

"While ye are in the tub, I will fetch ye a bite to eat."

Aspen waved her hand. Food did not sound at all good. "Thank you, Mary, but I am not really hungry. I think I overate at the evening meal. If I get hungry, I will make my way to the kitchens and find a morsel." Mary's face faltered a bit, but she put up her front and bobbed a curtsy. Aspen grew more curious, but she stood and was able to get in the water without giving away her dreadful condition. Mary bustled out the door as quick as she could, not staying to assist her with her bathing.

When Mary did not return to help her dress, she pulled herself from the water and grasped the chair by the fire as the room went dim. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes to wipe the blackness from her vision. When she opened them, things were normal and she took the blanket and dried herself. She wrapped up in it and walked carefully to her dressing room and chose her gown of blue silk from a peg on the wall. She donned it and sat a moment at her dressing table to brush her hair free of its tangles. She quickly braided it and flung it over her shoulder to hang down her back. She then made her way to where her paper lay, snatched it up and went to meet with Thorne. They had so much to discuss about the festival and she wanted to find out more about the guardsmen he sent out.

Thorne was in his study pouring over his books and messages when she knocked on his door.

"Come in," he said halfheartedly.

Aspen opened the door and sat in the nearest chair. Thorne looked up and saw the perspiration on her brow and hurried to shut the door.

"Darling! What is the matter?"

"I must be coming down with an ague. I wanted to speak with you about the festival and another matter that concerns me."

"I think it can wait a spell. I want the doctor to see you again."

"Thorne, I don't want to see the doctor. I need to speak with you and I need you to listen to me."

Thorne let his head fall into his hands. "Woman, you will be the death of me," he chuckled. "What is it you need to discuss?"

"I have written down the ideas I have for the festival and I wanted you to look it over before I execute anything. Note the date and the place I have thought to hold it and let me know of any changes. Next, I am curious to know why you sent out your guardsmen. Henry told me he might not be able to get a message to Chloe because there may not be a messenger."

"Why do you need to get a message to Chloe?" he asked curiously.

Aspen's mouth fell open and her eyes grew wide. "My Lord, please do not change the subject. It matters not. What about the guards? Why did you not tell me of their deployment?"

"It does not concern you, so do not concern yourself with it," he said bluntly to end the subject. He did not want her to know he was looking for her siblings in the case he never found them.

"I feel differently, my lord. Is there some growing threat I should be preparing for?" she pushed.

"Aspen, no. End of story," he directed a strong look at her to warn her of continuing.

She sighed and she felt her face flush and her heart race in anger. "You say you wish to marry me, but you will not include me in any important matters. The household and the parties are all my simple mind can handle? You think I cannot keep your military issues top secret? Fine! I never thought you of all people would keep things from me. What else are you guarding under the pretence of secrecy? Let's see, who else is filling your bed as you say you wish to marry me? How many other countless children do you have out there, or did you kill them if they turned up pregnant? Well, you just remember one thing. I never asked to come here. You brought me here as your mistress. How noble was that?" She stood to leave.

"Aspen--" Thorne roared and then he watched as all color faded from her face and with her hand outstretched for the door handle, she collapsed to the floor with a thud and silk frills spilling all about her.

For a moment, time stopped and he could see it all happen again and again. He did not save her. He leapt from his chair and in one fluid movement had her in his arms and the door flung open, bellowing for the doctor. Once he had her in bed, all he could do was feel like screaming. He knew all was not right, yet he had no idea that some treachery lurked inside his home, his castle.

Doctor love raced in with his satchel of tools. He took one look at Aspen and knew exactly what plagued her. She lay there and looked an inch from death, her skin white as a new fallen snow, lips pale, sweat beading on her brow, the nails on her fingers were purple. He remembered a day some time ago that she had looked nearly the same, only more wet, but still near to death and his heart broke for Thorne.

"Thorne, she appears to have been poisoned. I know not if she will live. It seems as though it has been happening for some time. This is much different than when she fell into the sea. She may have such damage inside of her body that I cannot repair her. It is not a matter of simply expelling the water and she will be fine. It is more like a toxin has been fed into her body and has begun to eat away at her internals. The sweating is her body trying to win the battle and defeat the toxin. But most of all it is her heart that I worry about. If it has ruined her heart at all, she will not survive."

"If she dies, I will execute every servant in this castle. If she lives, I may still kill every last one of them." Thorne could feel the power of evil overtaking him...and after feeling at peace for a time, the darkness was uncomfortable. And still, it was so easy to embrace it and welcome it instead of the pain he would feel deep into his soul. He was losing her and in her he had lost himself.

"Thorne, I think you should go meet with Father Goodson. It may do you some good and prepare you for her farewell."

Thorne looked into the eyes of the doctor, his own brimming with tears and loss. His head fell a bit to the side and grief was etched into his face then. "She cannot die. I could not bear it. She is too stubborn to leave me here and too jealous to look upon me from on high to ever see another woman in my life. I am not an old man, yet I feel it and I do not have the time to track down killers and murder my servants. If she dies, I fear that I would die too. I am so tired, Doctor. Tired of worrying over her safety. I merely want a life with her of happiness and children with festive holidays and all sorts of parties. I wish to fish with my son and show my daughter to ride a horse as well as her mother does. I want to hear the first wails of my children as they are born and put to their mother's breast. All of these things I thought foolish and unnecessary until she appeared in my life and now I desire these more than anything or any power in the world. I would give my village and all my responsibility just to have her safe. Who could do this?"

"I know of one who carries inside of her all that you desire and being rid of Aspen would open these doors of fate and let her slip into Aspen's place."

A new light dawned in Thorne's eyes and rage empowered him. "She will not live another day. I care not of her child. Aspen is more to me than Lilly's bastard," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Before you take revenge, please go to the chapel and pray for this woman you do love and pull God to your side," the doctor rushed, hoping that prayer would calm him and he would not kill in anger...Even Lilly.

"I do not believe there is a God. Aspen lives by his word better than most and look at the amount of suffering she has had to endure her entire life? And I have never been religious and I hardly believe in his presence and I continue to live? What kind of God could be so merciless?"

The doctor hung his head and when he looked back up to him, his face was full of wisdom and love. "God has a silent government over us. He gives us choices and consequences in our lives, but He judges us not until our death. He forgives all that ask Him to and He never puts upon us more than He knows we can bear. Mayhap He is telling you that Aspen is the one with all the strength and not you. You may be a mighty warrior who defends your people, but she is truly a warrior of God with strength of character and the softness of compassion. Look at all the suffering He knew He had to put upon Christ while the rest of us merely live out our days with little purpose. If she does die, look at what she accomplished in her little time with us...and all of the world. She will be in bedtime stories as an angel and will be immortalized by her people. Do you think that in all the years you have governed that the people would feel the same towards you? My boy, do not be so rash as to throw death at everyone. It should be God who takes a life, not another person."

"I assure you, that God did not take Aspen's life."

"That is true, but it does not mean that you must retaliate on innocents. Use knowledge and wisdom when dealing out fate. I know you hold both inside of you. Hate and anger are of the devil and if I were you, I would not allow him into the domain where such a wonderful servant of God sleeps. Force it from you and remember all that she has shown you in mercy."

"You should have been a priest, Doctor Love," he said with a twitch of a grin and some comfort in his heart.

"Ah, I have seen enough death to sober me in the ways of men. I want it all to be sunbeams of gold and raindrops of rose petals for you and the angel. Now, go light her a candle and say a prayer for her. I will be here to look after her," he smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

Thorne went to her bedside and kissed her lips gently, paused for a moment to memorize her beauty before he left her.

The sun shone through the colored glass windows of the chapel casting an abundance of colors across the room as if an artist had splashed his paint over everything. There were no people, not even the Father was there. He advanced on the candles and none were lit, so he lit one for Aspen in hopes that his small faith and great love could, like this candle in the sunlight, be seen to all who knelt before God. He crossed himself and said his prayer in naught but a whisper. He could feel the presence of others around him and when he looked for them, he saw no one. As he finished his prayer, he heard footsteps approaching and Father Goodson entered, stopping short and sucking a startled breath.

Thorne rose and stood before him. The priest could see the horror in Thorne's face.

"What is it, Thorne?" he asked concerned.

"Father, I forgot your warning to keep Aspen safe and evil has befallen her. Doctor Love says he thinks she has been being poisoned since the time she arrived here. I did not see it happening. I do not need a sermon right now...I just had one from the good doctor himself. I only have a favor to ask and that is to please go to her and bless her often. I have been trying to mend my ways and I need God on my side, or rather, on her side."

"Of course I will be beside her, my son. If I hear of any news, I will come to you straightaway."

"Thank you, Father. I have other business to conduct to get to the bottom of this mess. Mayhap I will see you soon," he said and left in a hurry for a cell in a tower to interrogate a criminal.

Thorne climbed the endless staircase that would lead him to Lilly's cell. He had not seen her since the day Aspen had caught her in her moment of guilt. The guard opened the door and Lilly scrambled from her pile of straw on the floor to stand with the heavy shackles on her ankles. It was cold in there and she was still wearing the simple servant uniform she had been that day near two months before. Her hair hung in thick strands of dirt and straw and her face was gaunt, her eyes pitiful. He saw no blanket, no food, but he saw hatred in her smirk.

"Well, my lord. Do you feel a bit guilty and have come to set me free? Perhaps give me your warm bed to share and a bath to match? Your child stirs, come closer and feel the life we created together in the throes of passion."

In truth, he felt horrible for her and the wee babe that grew unknowingly inside her rounding belly. At one time, she had been so much to him...a mother, a teacher, a playmate, a partner but not love. Everything but love. He thought of Aspen fighting for her life and he remembered the dagger in the bedpost and his guilt left him.

"I pity you, but not enough to excuse what you did to my sister and to Aspen. I want to know who you have been ordering to poison her."

Lilly cocked and eyebrow at him. "Poisoned? I only wish I had done that little dirty deed. But, no, it looks as though she has more than one enemy here doesn't it? I told you so."

"If I find out otherwise, you will die. I care not of your bastard or of you and you will have to answer to God for your crimes!" he raged at her and disappeared.

"My days are numbered anyway, what have I got to lose?" she shouted after him and her haunting laughter followed him to the bottom of the staircase.

He flew into the kitchens where the staff was cooking his evening meal.

"I demand to know who has been poisoning Aspen!" he shouted out of breath, eyes wild.

Silence filled the room and all were afraid to move. They stared at him wide eyed, not knowing what to say. Suddenly they all began muttering at once, declaring their innocence in quiet whispers.

Anger seized his heart and he grabbed a long knife and lunged at Cook to hold the knife at her throat, her back against a wall. "I'll not stand it! And if I do find that it was one on your staff, Cook, I will kill you first and then the rest of my bloody staff!"

The poor old cook trembled from her head to her toes and came close to fainting there in his arms. She certainly hoped it was not her trusted assistants. Thorne flung the knife back onto the table and stomped to the panel covering the cellar. He threw it off and deftly climbed the ladder down to where his prized wine was kept. He grabbed two of his oldest vintage and left his terrified staff thinking he was mad.

"Perhaps someone should poison him, the awful bastard," said one.

Thorne had not been out of earshot and he gritted his teeth, his fingers clenched around the necks of the bottles as his breathing sped once again and his temper blazed hotter than any had seen. When he appeared once more they all gasped in terror and raced into a huddle at the other end of the kitchen. All, except, the one who had spoken. He had found that with one look at his lordship's face he could not move. He was paralyzed with fear and wished he could cut his own tongue out with the knife.

Thorne strode to him and, with their noses almost touching, he sneered, "How about spending a fortnight in a tower and then being hung from the nearest tree I can find? I feel that kind of talk is treason in my home, you bloody ass."

A trickle of water could be heard. Thorne looked to the floor. "Cook, I believe this idiot of yours needs a change of knickers," he jabbed one last time for knickers, were known to be worn by women. And then he did go.

Thorne had every intention of going to his chamber but as he walked by, his secret door intrigued him and he stole up to the battlements. The sun slid behind a cloud as if hiding from his wrath as well and Thorne paid little heed to it. He propped himself against a jagged wall and popped the first bottle. It had been a long time, it seemed, since he had let it slip easily down his throat and into his belly. With his beloved by his side he realized he hadn't had the desire to drink what he was capable of...it felt good again. He remembered the comfort it had always given him and marveled at how this liquid could flow into his body and soak out all of his troubles before he ever finished a bottle.

He popped the second bottle. He was beginning to see things more clearly when he saw Kara walk around the corner. He nearly dropped his wine at the sight of her. She was exactly as he remembered her the day she was pushed from the battlement. She looked to be a small girl dressed in her soft pink nightdress, her long hair unbraided and flowing down her back in waves of midnight. Her dark eyes softened at him and when she spoke, it was the voice of a woman. The woman she should have been.

"Kara?" he called to her. "Kara, come and sit beside me."

"It is I, my brother. I know what troubles you and I cry for you and for Aspen. I am waiting for her to come close enough to take my hand. I will guide her and she can be my friend."

"But Kara, I need her to stay with me. Tell her to stay."

"My dearest brother, I have told her to stay with you and she is scared and tired and does not want to. She will miss you dreadfully as I do."

"Do you know who is doing this to her? I don't know how to find out."

"I know not of that. But there is nothing you can do. She is fading and comes nearer to me as we speak. She is holding to her love for you and will not let go to take my hand. I am sorry, but I must go and talk with her so she is not so frightened. I do love you, Thorne. I will always love the way you were and the way you are." She stood and kissed his cheek.

Grief overcame him. "Don't leave me again, Kara! Kara!" he shouted after her until she was gone again. Never had he felt this alone and stricken. He sobbed for what seemed forever and sleep took him over.

*******

Thorne woke to the sound of rumbling thunder in the clouds and drops of rain splattering his face. All was dark as pitch for it was well into the night. He remembered Kara speaking with him and hoped she hadn't taken Aspen with her. He sat up, for he had fallen over, and his head protested and the walls swam before him. He managed to get to his feet and feel his way back to the hallway. Staggering, he found Aspen's room and went inside to persuade her to stay with him.

She was fast asleep in her bed, a fire roaring, and the doctor sleeping on the floor atop a hastily made straw tick. Thorne's unsteady footsteps woke Doctor Love and he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"We couldn't find you," he whispered.

"I had to do some thinking," Thorne replied.

The doctor could smell the kind of thinking he had been doing and nodded, not approving. "I heard what happened in the kitchen. Cook was complaining of discomfort of the chest. Simon had to take to his bed."

"I need no lectures. I have already made up my mind to apologize."

"I fear you may be too late. You may lose every servant you have after the way you behaved and now you have dipped into the bottle again. Should we expect things to worsen?"

"I haven't the time to talk about this. How is Aspen? Will she be all right?" Thorne asked waving away his reprimand.

"She woke not long after you left. I don't know what kind of poison has been given to her, so I am not sure of an antidote. But, I think we have found the problem early enough that with a lot of water in her, we can wash it out without using leeches. However, it did damage her heart and she will not be the same. It beats unsteady...out of rhythm."

Thorne did not care about anything but knowing she would be fine. She was alive and she did not go to Kara. He sat in the chair by her bedside. She was so beautiful in the firelight. She had rolled to her side and tucked her hand beneath her cheek, her hair had fanned around her in a cascade of auburn softness and Thorne marveled at her. The color had returned to her lips and cheeks and her breathing was rhythmic. He smiled contentedly and let his lids close while he slumbered in his chair.

Thorne felt as if he were falling and woke as he hit the floor with a thud. He muttered expletives just above his breath when he remembered where he was. He scrambled to his feet to find Aspen looking at him with a silly grin on her face and eyebrows cocked at him. A sheepish grin of his own crept forth and he rubbed the crook in his neck in embarrassment. He sat beside her and took her hands.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I feel much better than yesterday, except that I was troubled with a dream last night," she replied.

"What was it?" he asked thinking he already knew what she was about to say.

"If I tell you, you will think I am crazy. It was nothing, really," she said casting her eyes down from him.

"I'll not think you crazy for I had a very odd dream myself and I'll talk about mine after you tell me of yours."

She took a deep breath. "I dreamt of Kara. The only way I knew it was her was because she told me who she was. Did she have dark black hair and dark eyes like you? Was she wearing a pink gown? She kept trying to get me to take her hand, but I was afraid to. She told me I would not be tired anymore if I came with her and was her friend. Then, I thought of you and I knew I was not ready to leave. Silly, isn't it?"

He rubbed her jawbone with his thumb. "Nay, not silly, for I dreamt of her too. I went up to my place yesterday and I drank too deeply from my wine stores. She came around the corner and sat next to me. She told me you were too near death to live, and that you would die and you would wait for me until my death. I told her I could not bear it and to tell you to stay and she said you were too tired and scared to stay. I am so sorry, love. I have failed you again and I know not who is doing this to you. I know little of what the doctor knows as well."

"He told me that if I drink enough water, it will flush out the toxin and I will be fine. He mentioned that I will have a difficulty with my heart for the rest of my life, but I will live and it may not affect me too badly."

"What is _too badly_? Horse riding, running, swimming, walking..." he asked rolling his hands in an ongoing gesture.

"He said namely childbearing. I may have problems with having children. But that matters not to me, for I wish to have lots of children. I'll not let it stand in my way."

"But, darling, I do not wish to be without you. To look at our children everyday and see you in them would be so hard for me to bear."

"I am sure things will all work out for the best. I am fine. Let's not dwell on the negatives. I am here and I am sure Kara is very sad. And Thorne, I am sorry for the horrid things I said to you yesterday. I did not mean them. I only want to be here for you and feel a part of your life and not like an outsider looking in. You accept me when you want to, conveniently. I need acceptance all of the time. I have no choice in the matter of you, lord of the manor. I have to take you exactly as you are and take the things I dislike in stride."

Mary bustled in ending the conversation. She went to the ewer and poured a cup of water for Aspen.

"Drink, my lady," she half ordered.

"I am not thirsty, Mary. I am in the middle of talking with his lordship. Come back in a while," Aspen replied pushing the cup away.

"Now, how are ye goin' to be better if ye don't do as the doctor says. Now, drink up!" she persisted.

"Thank you, Mary. I will see she does. You are dismissed," Thorne said. Mary bobbed a curtsy and left the room. "Here, drink."

Aspen took the tin cup in her hands. The thought of drinking more water made her stomach churn, but she sipped it. Suddenly, she felt very thirsty and drank it all as a knock sounded at the door.

"Come!" Thorne shouted as he took the cup back and set it down.

A messenger clad in the colors of the king entered bearing a sealed parchment. He bowed to Thorne and held the message out to him.

"A message from the king of all of Elgolan. He requests an immediate answer," he said in a boy's voice.

"Wait in the great hall, have some refreshment and I will get it to you straightaway," Thorne replied.

"Thank you for your generosity, my lord," the boy said and spun like a soldier on his heel and left the room.

Thorne opened the letter and began to read it.

"Well, what is it? Is all alright?" Aspen badgered.

"All is just fine. King Rothan is coming with his pilgrimage to visit every village in his kingdom. He got wind of the improvements we made and wishes to see them for himself and in turn offer suggestions to other villages. It says here he will arrive on the sixteenth of June and requests that we house only himself and a few servants. The rest of his court will make a camp outside by the creek."

"That is wonderful! I will get to work on the preparations! Mayhap we can move the date of the festival until a day when he can join in the fun as well," she rushed with excitement and began to climb from her bed.

"Whoa, my lady! You will not be going anywhere. You can dictate orders from bed and write them on paper. You must promise me that you will not leave this bed until the doctor tells you so."

"But Thorne--"

He stopped her short. "That did not sound like any promise to me. I want your word, Aspen."

She slumped back against her pillows, her hair flying over her shoulders and her small mouth in a pout. "Fine. You win," she mumbled.

"That's my girl," he smiled. "I sure do love you."

Those sincere words provoked a smile from her as well.

"I need to answer this letter so I will use a piece of your parchment and sit at your table while you get yourself some rest. Can I get you another drink of water?"

"I am a bit thirsty. Mayhap a small cup," she answered.

She drank it down and he kissed her on the forehead as she curled up with her pillow. He was almost done writing when she sat up quickly in bed.

"Aspen? What is wrong?" he asked alarmed by the ashen color on her face.

"I need a pot...something! I am going to --" And like a giant wave on a rough sea, the contents of her stomach spilled upon her bed leaving her heaving and drenched in water.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed and threw open the door screaming for the doctor.

He came running up the stairs two at a time and sighed in relief when he saw she was only vomiting.

"Tell Mary to come in and clean her up, give her a warm bath," the doctor said. "It really is common for the body to expel poison by vomiting. She is going to be fine."

Thorne was relieved. He left with his message for the king and to find Mary. He found her in a room down the hall dusting the mantle of the fireplace. He told her what was needed and left to deliver his reply to the boy. When that was done, he sought out Cappy. He needed him on his side to catch Aspen's killer.

"Cappy, do you have a moment?" Thorne asked interrupting Cappy's examination of maps and plans.

"Of course, my lord." he replied, standing.

"I have bad news and I need you to help me catch a killer," Thorne relayed the whole story to him and watched him finger his long, red beard in thought.

"I think we must take a new approach. I will post guards in the kitchens and, when she is better, in the great hall. I will stay inside of her rooms concealed in the dressing room with a hole in the wall so I can see all the goings on in the room at all times."

"But then, Cappy, you would see her nude as well," Thorne said uneasily.

Cappy cleared his throat and tried to will the flush from his face. "'Tis a professional interest only. The doctor sees her nude. Oh, come on Thorne. I would not go googly eyes at her or nothin'. I feel that to catch a sneaky crook, you need to be sneaky too," he reasoned.

"We will try it. If nothing comes of it, we will have to try again," Thorne said after a moment's hesitation. "I'll be up there with her. Be discreet, I would hate to alarm her further."

Cappy nodded his understanding and left to prepare. Thorne walked past his study door and saw the parchment with her plans on it. He fingered her delicate script and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He needed to be with her.

Aspen was sleeping peacefully again in dry clothing and bed covers, her hair still damp from her bath. Mary was still cleaning up and putting out fresh necessities like blankets and cups and so on. Thorne took Aspen's hand in his and kissed it softly.

"I vow to you, that I will find the one responsible for this and they will die a horrible death. I swear it to you," he whispered.

A loud crash next to the night table made him gasp in surprise. Mary bobbed her curtsies and apologized for her clumsiness in dropping the cups.

"Good God, woman, be more careful! She needs rest!" he reprimanded.

Mary apologized even more and took her leave quickly.

The days went on and Aspen still vomited furiously until she ultimately fell into a deep sleep from which she would not wake. The perspiration streamed down her face and she shook uncontrollably. She would toss and groan loudly as if in terrible pain. Thorne felt at a loss. They still had not found out who poisoned her. Doctor Love said she was getting much worse and that someone must be still be giving her poison. In talking with Cappy, no one was seen ever entering her room and she ate no food. He wondered if poison was being put on her bedding or her clothing in the laundry.

Thorne sat in the chair praying for her to wake and smile at him. He sighed and stood to stretch, running his hands through his hair and scrubbing at his face. He poured himself a fresh cup of water and gulped it down. It seemed to have an odd taste to it...almost bitter. Alarms sounded in his head and he thought he was about to lose his stomach. Tears bit at his eyes and he ran to the dressing room to fetch Cappy.

"Go get me a bucket of water from the well! Now!" he commanded.

Cappy ran as fast as he could and returned in short order with a bucket fresh from the well. Thorne poured himself a cup and could tell that Aspen's water was tainted.

"I can't believe this! They are still feeding it to her through the water! My God!" he shrieked. "All this time we have been forcing her to take the poison telling her she would be better!"

Cappy tasted the two samples and he could tell as well. Thorne ran into the hall and screamed for the doctor.

"We have found the source of the poison, Doctor. They have been putting it in the water. The same water we have been making her drink!" Thorne hollered. The doctor tasted as well and bowed his head in disbelief.

"The only ones that have been permitted to enter have been you, me, and Cappy," the doctor said.

Thorne thought and remembered the day when he had vowed retribution on Aspen's assassins and the cups falling. Mary!

"Where is Mary?" Thorne asked in a panic.

"I saw her this morning as she complained of stomach pain. I examined her and found nothing wrong with her, but told her to rest for the day," the Doctor answered. Suddenly, realization hit both Doctor Love and Cappy.

Thorne made for the door with Cappy at his heels. "Stay here and let no one in! No one!" he shouted on his way out. The good doctor stayed behind, disbelief stirring his mind.

Even in the light of the afternoon, Mary's quarters were dim. The shutters were still closed and a form lay in the bed. Thorne allowed the demons of his mind to spring forth and he flew into a rage Cappy had never seen before. He took his knife from his belt and charged the sleeping form. He threw back the blanket to reveal Mary lying there unmoving.

"You wretch! You that is all that is unholy! How could you kill your own mistress?" he bellowed. "How could you kill the only woman that I love?" He wanted to plunge his knife deep into her chest and watch her bleed for what she did, but Cappy grasped his arm.

"Thorne, look closely. She is already dead."

He set his knife aside and rolled Mary over until he could see her blue lips and sunken eyes. Cappy thrust her apron into his hands. Thorne glanced at him sideways before opening it up revealing a message on the fabric:

' _May God save me for what I have done. I have poisoned her ladyship since her return with her mother. I smothered her mother hoping she would go back to where she came from. I was paid money by my aunt in Rosehill every time I got her to take some. 'Twas not my aunt's doing but by the threat of death from another, she felt she had no choice. John knows not what I have done, but tell him I have loved him. God help me!'_

Upon her table was a cup with a powder residue in it and an envelope. "She took all of the poison that was meant for Aspen, Thorne. She gave her life for Aspen's. An eye for an eye, right?" Cappy murmured.

### Chapter 10

Thorne felt as if he had just woken from a nightmare. He stared long and hard at the letters on the apron. Chaos. His life was utter chaos since Aspen came to him and he held no regrets except that he had not saved her. He thought it would all be smiles and kisses once he had made up his mind to marry her.

Cappy took the apron from him as evidence and the cup was taken to the doctor to know how to treat Aspen's deplorable condition. The residue he found allowed him to make a schooled decision on an antidote. Aspen improved immediately.

They buried Mary in the Olde Forest in a shallow grave for her part in attempted assassination. As far as Thorne was concerned, they should have dropped her for the animals to feed upon. But, John begged for her to be buried and said he would do it himself if they would allow it. John had been in their employ for many years and Thorne liked him so he agreed that John could bury her in a small and shallow place. John agreed, but was disappointed about not burying her on consecrated ground.

Thorne spent time talking with each of the employees that he had frightened that terrible evening and gave them all a few extra coins to line their pockets. They seemed to forgive him, but he still felt badly for his behavior. Many of them said that they understood, that they also feared for Aspen's life.

It was a warm morning on the tenth day of June that Henry escorted a tiny girl into Thorne's office.

"Excuse the interruption, my lord, but this child wishes to see her ladyship. I tried to--"

Thorne looked up and recognized this child as the one Aspen was hugging at her mother's funeral. His face brightened at the sight of the girl. "I'll take her up now, Henry, thank you. Little One, I think you are just the thing for her ladyship."

Mira dipped a curtsy at him and he smiled at her wobbly legs, her graciousness, and her poise at such a young age. Aspen was probably just like her as a child. He held out his hand to her and she slipped her tiny one inside. Tingles of compassion overwhelmed him and he yearned for a child of his own. His mind drifted to the rounding belly in the tower and he thought briefly of keeping the child, but dismissed it quickly once he remembered it's mother's face. That child was not a creation of love, but a brutal lust of an evil woman.

They strolled into the foyer to start up the stairs and it seemed all the servants were hauling flowers up to Aspen's rooms. The news of her illness must have spread to the villagers and they were sending their sympathies like they did at her mother's death. Thorne glanced down at this child and she was staring in awe at all the people and the flowers, the stairs and all the windows. She stopped suddenly and tugged on Thorne's arm. He knelt beside her and she looked at him so innocently.

"Are all of these people yer kids?" she asked breathlessly.

Thorne nearly laughed aloud. "Nay, child. I pay all these people to work for me."

"Ya mean do chores?" she persisted cocking her head to the side.

"Aye, I suppose that is true. I pay them to do my chores," he answered.

"I can do chores too? Could ye pay me to do yer chores?" she smiled and her gray eyes dazzled. "I don't get paid at home. I could come live here and ye could pay me tiny money."

"You know, we may be able to figure something out. I just realized...I don't even know your name. Do you have a name?"

"Me name is Mira, my lord," she answered.

"Well, Mira, I will think on it some and talk with your parents. How old are you?" he asked.

"I turned seven years old last month, my lord," she answered so politely.

"Well, seven is...seven is really getting up there, isn't it?" She nodded her head and her blonde hair flew into her face. Embarrassed, she brushed it away and her thumb stole to her mouth. She became conscious of it and dropped her hands to her sides, biting her lower lip; exactly like Aspen. Thorne took her hand once again and continued up the steps.

Aspen was sleeping when they entered her room. Flowers once again covered the tables and floors, anywhere there was room. Mira marveled at all the pretty things she had never before seen. As they made their way through the mass of servants, Mira's free hand stole out to touch everything she could. Thorne let her go at Aspen's bedside and told her he would be outside the door if she needed a thing. She nodded in understanding and took slow, quiet steps toward the sleeping woman. She stepped upon the platform on which the bed sat and gathered Aspen's hand in hers. Her second hand lightly stroked Aspen's arm, she could not resist feeling the fabric of her nightdress. Aspen opened her eyes to find this small child at her bedside holding her hand and for but a moment, she thought it was another angel coming to take her away.

"I am sorry to wake ye," Mira whispered. She reached into a deep pocket of her dress and presented a bouquet of wildflowers. "Ye told me to bring ye some when I could and tell ye all about me school."

Aspen smiled brightly when she got her bearings and her heart lightened that moment. "Mira, I am so glad to see you, darling. Thank you for the beautiful flowers. Do you see that cup there? Could you help me out and put them in it?"

Mira beamed with pride and did as she was bid.

"You look so pretty today. Is that your new dress?" Aspen asked her.

Mira pinched the fabric in her fingers and twirled. "It is me Sunday best. Mum let me wear it today so I was extra pretty for you."

"I thought you have always been pretty, but the dress makes you look like a princess."

Mira smiled and shamelessly nodded her head in agreement.

"I'll tell you what. Go into my dressing room over there and fetch my brush and bag of hairpins," she said. "I'll brush your hair for you."

"But I already done it this morning, my lady," she countered.

"Hasn't your mother ever just brushed your hair and talked to you? I can brush your hair and you can tell me all about your school."

"Mum has too many of us to take care of, so she says I 'ave to brush me own hair. But if you want to brush mine, that is fine," and she hopped from the step and skipped to the dressing room and came back with all Aspen had asked for.

Aspen grinned and sat up against her pillows, patting the blanket in front of her to beckon the child to sit. Mira climbed up and bounced into her place.

"You 'ave a soft bed, my lady. Someday, I am going to 'ave a soft bed too."

Aspen put the brush to Mira's hair. "My mother always told me that a hundred strokes in the morn and night would make my hair shiny and healthy."

"A hundred!" Mira declared. "I guess she was right because your hair is shiny. But, I don't want to brush it a hundred times, no way."

"Would you mind if I style your hair? I think it is fun."

Mira turned around about halfway and shook her finger at her. "Only if I can style yers next," she said sternly, smiling.

Aspen laughed. "I would love that."

They talked and laughed for hours as Aspen brushed and teased Mira's hair into curls and pinned them upon her head allowing soft tendrils fall about her neck. Thorne could hear them giggling and peeked inside. The sight sent a warm wave from his head to his toes. She was in all her glory with this child. He decided he would create a position for the girl. She was good for Aspen.

"Oh, Mira. You look so beautiful!" Aspen breathed. "Quickly, go fetch the looking glass upon my dressing table. I want you to see how you look."

Mira came back with the glass and Aspen turned it over to show her the reflection of herself. Mira's mouth fell open and her eyes got wide. "Is this really me in there?" she asked.

"It is, aren't you a vision?"

"It's my turn to do yer hair now!" she said excitedly. Aspen turned around and Mira stood on the bed to reach the top of her head. She counted as high as she could several times as she brushed to make certain she did it a hundred times. Then, she began pinning. She smiled with satisfaction when she had finished.

"You look so beautiful, my lady," she copied. "I will tell his lordship that my chores will be to make you beautiful everyday," she said matter-of-factly with a nod of her head to reinforce what she had just said. Aspen looked into the mirror and smiled. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and the pins were half hanging out in places.

"You did a marvelous job, Mira. Thank you so much." Secretly Aspen wondered what the "chores" business was all about.

There was a knock at the door and Cook came in with a tray of food for the evening meal. Thorne was at her heels. Aspen asked Mira to join her in her feast and Mira stared at all the food longingly. Thorne noticed it as well and said he would take her home in his carriage after she was finished. A shadow crossed her little face when he mentioned home.

"I thought I could stay here and do chores for you. See how pretty she is? I can be her pretty helper and you could pay me some tiny money, my lord," she begged.

They could both hear the desperation in her voice. "Do you not want to be with your family? Won't you miss your mother and father?" Thorne asked.

She thought a moment pondering the right things to say. "Me papa is dead. Me mum don't love me. Me brothers and sisters are too busy to be nice. You are nice and I want to stay here forever and make ye pretty, my lady."

A pang of sorrow rent their hearts. She was so special and she felt no one loved her. Thorne and Aspen communicated with a look that they would find something for her to do.

"Tonight, you must go home and be with your family, Mira. We need time to prepare for you," Thorne explained. "We think you are very special and we are sure that your mother feels the same. She is only tired and busy."

Mira shook her head defiantly. "She tells me she wishes I was ne'er born."

Aspen's hand flew to her chest in hopes to stop a loud gasp from startling the girl. Thorne's head drooped and his gaze pondered the floor a moment. Once the shock had left her, Aspen took Mira's hand and studied her sad face.

"Look at my eyes, Mira," she said sternly. Mira obeyed and she continued. "You make me very happy and I do not know what I would do without you in my life right now. Believe that you are special."

A smile played Mira's lips before she spoke again. "I wish you was me mum," she almost whispered.

Aspen gathered her into her arms and offered her a taste of the love she had been denied, but she could not answer for the tears were hard enough to keep at bay. Thorne saw the mother in Aspen and happiness filtered through him like the sun through storm clouds. Watching her being so genuine and natural with this child that was not even hers struck chords of love within him and the desire for a family of his own filled him once again.

"Well, are you both finished nibbling at your food? I had best be getting you back, Mira. We will have you again very soon, we promise," Thorne said slapping his hands on his knees as he stood. He plucked her from the bed and carried her away. Mira rested her chin on his shoulder watching Aspen get further away and waved good-bye so sadly it broke Aspen's heart.

Aspen slumped back against the pillows gloomily and thought of anything she could do to save that poor child who reminded her so much of herself.

The short ride to Mira's home was a quiet one. Thorne kept trying to carry a conversation as he had at the castle and she would not say a word. Finally, the carriage stopped and Thorne stepped to the ground, turning to help Mira down. She stood in the doorway and in the fading light of the day, he could see tears trickle down her cheeks. Her shoulders slumped and she held out her arms to him. He took her into an embrace and as she squeezed his neck, an odd sensation saturated his entire being. He gave her an encouraging squeeze back, not exactly knowing what to do. The love for a child was completely different than the love for a woman and it took him by surprise. He had thought it to just be love, and it mattered not who you loved, it all felt the same. Obviously, he had had quite a shortage of it in his life.

A light lit the dimness and Thorne saw a curtain inside the house be pushed aside and an unhappy face poked out. In no time, the door was flung open and Mira's mother ran out shrieking and calling her names.

"Come on, girl. I've cut ye a switch and I will tan yer hide with it fer imposin' on his lordship!" she hollered.

Mira, now on the ground, moved to take refuge behind Thorne's legs. Thorne held up his hand in a signal of silence. His temper was about to fly and he struggled to control himself. She finally shut her mouth and stood with hands on hips staring at him.

"Madame, we apologize for keeping her so late. We invited her to eat our evening meal with us. She has been wonderful in aiding her ladyship in getting well and we discussed her employment."

"Employment?" the woman nearly sneered. "She's too young! But I do 'ave many other children that could service you, my lord," she cooed and dipped a curtsy.

"With your permission, good lady, we would like Mira to come to the castle for a new program of instruction in learning a trade. One of her choice."

"I'll not give ye permission. She is too little. Mira, inside!"

"We would pay her and half would go to you," he threw in to sweeten the deal.

The woman licked her lips and pondered, not paying attention to Mira who was not about to go inside without Thorne.

"How much are ye talking," she asked narrowing her eyes at him.

"I have not yet come to a decision, but I assure you it will be more than you have now," he spat at the greedy woman. "Are you going to let her go?"

"I think we can work on it," she said slyly.

"What is there to work on? You will have money lining your purse, one less mouth to feed, one less to clothe and raise and you'd not have to trouble yourself with beating her all of the time," he added coldly.

The woman scratched her head and she stared in thought at the ground, not disagreeing with a thing he had said. "Fine. When do ye want her?"

"I will send my coach for her tomorrow. Have her packed and ready by the midday."

"Aye, my lord," she curtsied again, her voice dripping with honey. If she could save enough of his money, they could do so many things. "We thanks ye fer yer kindness."

Thorne crouched to the ground and pulled Mira into his arms and gave her a brief hug of encouragement. "I'll send my coach for you, Mira. Be ready!"

Mira nodded excitedly and cautiously walked to the house to vanish inside. Her mother followed.

"I expect that not a single hair is harmed on her head this eve nor is her body bruised!" Thorne called after the woman. She turned to throw him an ugly look and the door shut.

Thorne had an uneasy feeling that he had done the wrong thing in letting little Mira go. Still, he could not change what had been decided and standing in the twilight, he hung his head in defeat and climbed back into the carriage. He tapped on the roof and rambled down the short road home. He reasoned with himself that all would be well when Mira was safe at the castle.

*******

Debrin sat in a quaint cottage on the castle grounds in Rosehill, her hands rubbing her enlarged womb in soothing circles, and her mind wondering about a girl not too far away that should be dead if all had gone according to plan. The first moment she had seen the emotion on Rayven's face when the girl was near, she knew she would have to be eliminated or herself and her child would be. She had gone to great lengths to ensure she became pregnant with Rayven's baby and now he had his sights set on Aspen, the precious little peasant now pretending to be nobility. She had seen Rayven run after her when she left in such a fuss after a meeting with the earl and the day after, she had read in his record book of his professed love for Aspen...how he would stop at nothing to have her to wife...how he wanted her to bear his children and govern by his side. Well, he may feel that way, but when she is dead, he would come back to her and this child she carried for him. She was ready to have the child any day and she hoped it would be a son, for she knew she might be rejected if she did not bear him an heir. The family had already prepared her for such a situation and gave her the cottage and an allowance not to mention gowns and infant clothing. What more could she need? Ah, Rayven.

*******

The days proceeded and Aspen was under orders by the doctor to stay in her bed. She was allowed to conduct business with the staff through lists and notes, but she could not leave her room. They chose a quiet girl, new to the castle from the village, to step in as a temporary chambermaid for Aspen. Her name was Sara and she barely said a word. She had kind blue eyes like the hues of a sapphire, blonde hair the color of wheat in the sunshine, light freckles dusted her nose and cheeks and her lips looked like a perfect heart. She was a beautiful girl; no doubt she was the object of many of the men's dreams there in the castle. She was sweet and smiled shyly, not exposing her teeth. She had barely turned sixteen and had chosen to seek employment in the kitchens. She was Aspen's go between and relayed messages and saw that her orders were carried out.

It was the fifteenth of June and Aspen was a nervous wreck. She wanted so badly to be out of her bed and helping the staff finish the tasks that needed done. Sara was busy clearing away dead flowers when a knock sounded and Chloe came swaying in, her large form heaving for air from the long climb up the staircase. Her hand fluttered to her chest and she stopped to draw a deep breath.

"My stars! I think those stairs get higher every time I come!" she declared.

"Perhaps, madam. I feel the same way at times," Aspen laughed in response.

Chloe came to her bedside and surveyed her condition. "You are looking rather well, child."

"I am feeling much more the thing, thank you. What brings you all of the way here? Did you receive my message?"

"I did and I brought you what you requested. I also heard that King Rothan is coming and will be here what, tomorrow? I thought I would dash here and see if you needed repairs to your gowns and I brought a few more that I wanted you and Thorne to see."

"That is wonderful! I was unsure of what would be suitable to wear for the king. To me, it is such a grand occasion and we are having a festival two days hence, which is also my eighteenth birthday. I wanted it to be such a grand occasion. But, where is the little gown? I wish to see it."

"I will bring it in shortly, after I talk with Thorne. Give me a wee bit of time and I will return."

"Thank you Chloe!" she smiled not sure that she could wait that long. Chloe curtsied and took her leave.

Aspen thought of Mira and hoped she was doing well in her chores and studies. She had arrived on the eleventh day and Thorne had seen to it that her room was decorated beautifully. He was not sure if he considered her a servant or a daughter, so he gave her a room as she had never had in her life with a large bed and canopy in white, a small box for her under things and her own trunk for her dresses with a dressing table. Sara was her chambermaid as well and treated her as a little princess. They sent for a governess to teach her studies and she was being taught to bake bread in the kitchens. They kept her very busy and Thorne was of the mind that she could assist Aspen in the gardens when Aspen was strong enough to be out in them. Thorne took on the responsibility of teaching her some manners she would have to know for the king when he arrived. He said she was coming along nicely and Aspen could tell a change in her speech and her grace. Every night she would sit on Aspen's bed and listen to stories before she would drift off to sleep and Thorne would carry her to bed and tuck her in, kissing her forehead to ward off any bad dreams. They all knew that when the governess arrived, there would be many less nights of stories so they enjoyed every one of them.

Aspen stared at the pages of lists that she was trying to get accomplished before tomorrow came. Many of the duties had been crossed off, but there were a few that remained. Sara tiptoed in quietly and curtsied.

"My lady, I am to report that the gardens are finished, the new tub is built, the flags have been cleaned and put out, and Cook has prepared the menus for your approval," she said and handed Aspen the sloppy pages scribbled on and food stained. She crossed off the tasks and took the menus.

"Thank you, Sara. How is Mira doing?"

"She is fine, my lady. Just fine."

"I should like to see her when she is not busy."

"I will tell her," she curtsied and left.

Chloe and Thorne returned near to an hour later and found Aspen sleeping with her lists still clutched in her hands. Thorne smiled at her dedication and took the papers, starting her awake. She stared at the both of them a moment and smiled sheepishly that she had fallen asleep.

"I am sorry to wake you, darling. I thought we could see the gowns Chloe has brought for you. Do you feel up to it?" Thorne asked knowing what the answer would be and he could have recited it word for word.

"Of course I am up to it. I feel perfectly fine. I only wish I was out of this bed," she almost growled.

"That will come soon enough. Soon enough," he chuckled.

Chloe went to the door and motioned for her apprentice to come inside. She carried in armfuls of dresses of all colors and laid them across the bed. Chloe rubbed her pudgy hands together in excitement.

"First, I want to show you the little gown you requested." She held up a small frock of pale pink silk as Mira walked in.

She stopped in her tracks and began to apologize for the intrusion. Thorne took her hand and brought her to the bed and Chloe held her dress up to her.

"Why don't you be a dear and try it on?" Chloe cooed. Mira took the dress in her hands and just savored the fabric on her palms.

"Go on, Mira. You can use my dressing room. I want to see you in it."

Mira smiled and skipped into the other room.

"My, she is a pretty one, isn't she?" Chloe remarked stirring pride in Aspen as if Mira was her own. Aspen cast a sideways glance to Thorne to see him beaming and in turn made her smile as well.

In moments, Mira emerged from the dressing room looking so sweet in soft pink silk. She seemed to be having some difficulty with the fastenings and kept chasing the ribbons as she walked, as a dog chases his tail. Chloe caught the ribbons in her pudgy hands and tied them tight. Mira stood tall and Aspen could hardly believe her eyes. Her dress was long with a high waistline; the sleeves were full at the shoulders to become tight at the wrists and ended in a point on the backs of her hands. Chloe knelt before her and pulled two ribbons in Mira's skirt. When she backed away, Aspen could see two bows at her sides cinching the overskirt almost like petals of a rose. Silently, she beckoned Mira closer and noticed beautifully dainty knitted lace at her high neckline and the edges of her sleeves.

"And..." Chloe drawled, "here is the rest of the outfit, young lady," she smiled presenting two small slippers and a modest tiara.

Mira's eyes lit up as if she had never been given a gift in her life. "Now I will be more beautiful than the queen!" she breathed.

"You are the most beautiful in the land, my little lady," cooed Thorne as he swept her up in his arms. "Except, of course, for my lady Aspen," he laughed.

Mira's eyes rested upon Aspen. "Thank you, my lady," she said so sweetly dripping with sincerity.

"You are very welcome, Mira. And you need to call me Aspen, dear one."

Mira smiled and nervously, her thumb went to her mouth. Thorne made a small noise in his throat and she looked to him jerking her hand from her mouth.

"Now don your old gown until tomorrow. We will decide on the rest of your wardrobe later today, Mira. And remember, we want nothing to happen to this frock for the king comes in the morn!" Thorne warned. Mira nodded and trotted back to the dressing room.

Suddenly, all eyes were on Aspen. She felt quite conscious of her appearance after days in bed and a slight blush colored her cheeks. Chloe and Thorne held up each gown and Aspen fingered every material for hours. Finally, decisions were made and fittings were arranged and Aspen became the new owner of five of the most luxurious gowns ever made.

The day flew by and Sara was noticeably exhausted with all her mediation by the evening meal and Aspen excused her for the night. She bobbed a grateful curtsy and left her room yawning. Aspen supped alone that night, for Thorne was going through last minute manners lessons with Mira, and without realizing it she fell fast asleep not to wake until the morning.

It was already promising to be a very warm summer day as Aspen woke to Dr. Love taking her pulse. "Good morning, my lady!"

"And good morning to you, Doctor," she yawned.

"I hear that you are eighteen years old in just a few days hence. Happy birthday, child," he smiled and his eyes crinkled and his teeth sparkled.

"Thank you, sir. It looks like the perfect day for the arrival of the king, don't you think?"

"Couldn't be better, I'd say," He stuck a cold instrument to her chest and listened for what seemed an hour at least. "I wish I had a gift to give you, my lady, but all I can say is that you are released from your bed. You may get about to meet his majesty!"

He laughed as she shrieked with joy and hugged him tight.

Aspen took his hand in hers. "Thank you for making me well again, Doctor."

He gave her another great smile and nodded his understanding. "I could not have made you well if you were not as strong as you are, dear girl."

Thorne entered through the dressing room door looking absolutely stunning in his new garb making him look even nobler than his birthright. His boots were polished to his knees to meet black leggings beneath a tunic of black satin trimmed in gold threads and bejeweled with onyx stones, laced with black leather ribbons (which were undone, of course). A green, as dark as the ivy on the castle walls, colored the full-sleeved undershirt and black leather onyx crusted bracers hugged his wrists. His midnight hair swirled around his shoulders arrogantly. He wore his lord's ring on his right index finger, which bore his family's crest and a large colorful stone hung around his neck. It was the first time she had ever seen him wear a shred of finery. As he approached her bedside, beaming, Aspen noticed a cloak...no, a cape of black with a deep green underside clasped to his shoulders with intricate gold fastenings. She felt herself holding her breath as he came closer, but she could not bring herself to breathe for he would surely disappear and she would wake from this wonderful dream.

Thorne had to smile at her look of awe. He was rather pleased with Chloe's work, but Aspen's face sweetened the moment. He could hardly wait to see her birthday gift on her.

"Good morning, my darling," he whispered as the good doctor began to pack up his things and depart. He bent over her and kissed her mouth so softly, his hair falling to brush her face. He smelled of the outdoors on a misty spring afternoon, enough to stir Aspen's senses into a whirlwind she could not get enough of.

"You look magnificent, my lord, if I may say so," she finally breathed in his ear.

She was affecting him in the worst of ways and he pulled away from her holding her hands in his. "You please me very much," was all he could manage before Sara burst in with the tub and water.

"Oh! My lord! Please forgive..." Sara began.

"Pay it no mind, Sara. Aspen, I will see you shortly," he said.

"But, Thorne, which gown shall I wear? I cannot decide," she asked him.

He threw her a grand smile and said, "Sara has it all under control. See you soon," He quickly kissed her forehead and left her room.

The morning drew on until the midday meal was fast approaching and still no word from the scouts keeping watch. Thorne stood before the window in his study watching, but not seeing anything but Aspen in her new gown. The one she never saw for he wanted it to be a surprise. She would knock even the king from his feet. Suddenly, the church bell began to toll and the sound of trumpets drifted on the air to him. The king was so very close. Taking a deep breath to calm himself he left his study to meet Aspen and Mira at the front door to welcome his majesty to his home.

Thorne rounded the bend in the staircase and slipped on the edge of one stair causing him to lose his composure a moment when he beheld his angel. He wondered how perfection had wandered into his life without him knowing it the very first second it happened. There she was, standing tall and beautiful, the gown he chose for her absolutely without flaw. It was the deep burgundy color of rich red wine, a low but modest neckline; it touched the floor in all its shiny, silken glory. Her sleeves dripped to the floor from her delicate wrists, a deep green lining them. All over the masterpiece were small cuts of diamonds, emeralds, and onyx stones sewn to the fabric so every move she made was a glittering fantasy. He watched her turn to fuss with Mira and noticed the train of silk behind her and the velvet cape at her shoulders held in place by gold fastenings similar to his own. Her hair was a cascade of auburn waves with some hair fashioned around the beautiful circlet of gold and emeralds that sat so inspiringly upon her forehead.

Mira was a far cry from the timid peasant girl she had been just days ago. She stood so regally but innocent in her pink frills, her tiara sparkling in her curly blonde hair. She was allowing Aspen to wipe a smudge from her nose when she caught his eye and smiled, resisting the urge to spring forward to greet him. Aspen stood to full height and faced him thinking he was the most beautiful man ever created. He smiled down to her and held his hand out, palm down and in turn she rested her hand upon his and allowed him to lead her out amidst his people to await the arrival of the King of Elgolan. As they passed through the double doors of the castle and stood together on the top step leading down to the bailey, a great bout of cheers erupted from the villagers.

Thorne casually waved to all of them in general and a smile slowly spread from ear to ear. Aspen was enjoying the show of affection between lord and peasant when a sudden herald of trumpets pulled them back to what was really going on, their leader...their king was nearly there. Aspen's hand fluttered to rest upon her chest and Thorne caught her rubbing her neck absently. A thought occurred to him seeing her bare neck.

Thorne took a small coin purse from his belt and turned to Aspen fitting it into her hand. He bent to her ear and whispered that it was a part of her birthday gift. The bag was heavy on her palm and she opened it with shaking hands lifting a brilliant emerald pendant from its depths.

"Dear Lord," she swore under her breath. The necklace was long and a perfect emerald cut into a square hung from it. Aspen noticed that it was just smaller than her palm in size. It was a very impressive piece and Thorne had given it to her. Her breathing came fast and she looked to Thorne and expressed her thanks. He smiled at her and took the chain to help her fasten it around her neck before Rothan arrived. She looked a wealthy woman with grace to top it off. He kissed her forehead and explained he should meet his majesty at the gates and that she should wait for them there to welcome the king to the home. And then he left her there as if she knew what she was doing

Thorne heard the coach long before he saw it as he stood with Cappy at the castle gates, fists at his hips and the sea air ruffling his long hair. Around the bend in the road and over a tiny hill they flew until the carriage came to a stop at the gate. The footman hopped to the ground and opened the door, also swinging down a small set of stairs. The interior, from what Thorne could see, was a posh royal blue with silver trimmings. A short, slightly round man became visible from the doorway taking the footman's hand to step down.

King Rothan was a noble man who had an air that commanded respect as he shook the dust from his clothes and straightened to look Thorne over. He had a head of hair that was the color of ripe wheat and eyes that were nearly as deep a blue as his carriage. A silver crown adorned his head in a circle tall with towers and at the tops of each projection there was an exquisite sapphire. His tunic was long, nearly to the ground and was brilliantly blue with silver trim, his family crest emblazoned in silver on his chest, and an undershirt of white with full, long sleeves ending in tight cuffs and ring-laden hands. Thorne could not see his leggings because the tunic was so long, but he did glimpse shiny black boots peeking from beneath.

The king held out his hand and Thorne bowed deeply to him, kissing his allegiance to the royal signet. "Rise, Lord of Cliffehaven," he boomed and Thorne obeyed.

"Welcome to my village, your majesty, welcome to Cliffehaven." Thorne said trying to sound confident and commanding.

"Now that formalities are out of the way, how have you been, my boy?" The king asked smiling.

"Things have been very well, your majesty," Thorne answered returning a smile.

"So I have heard, so I have heard. And, where is this angel I have been hearing so much of?"

"She is waiting to welcome you to my home, your majesty."

"Then, let us be off!" They turned to walk together through the crowd of cheering people in the bailey. "Have you wed her yet? I never could see you getting married. I have feared for many years that I would have to appoint someone to take your place at your death for you would never have an heir," he chuckled.

"Nay, we have not yet wed, but we will in the turn of the season. I wish to have an heir."

Surprise widened the king's eyes at Thorne's revelation. "Why wait then? Why not tie your union while I am here. I will be a witness to the miraculous occasion."

"I will speak with her about it. She may think it a wonderful idea."

"And what of you? Cold feet, eh?"

"Nothing like that, sire."

"Then what?" the king pressed.

"Only that I wanted the village to be there. It would be a grand thing but it needs so much planning."

The king's fingers massaged his chin. "To make the union would make it possible to produce an heir. Have the public wedding display at the turn, but wed her in secret now. But, we will speak of it later. Good Lord, is that her? Wherever did you find a rare beauty like her?"

A hush fell over the people as they began their ascent to Aspen. All eyes were glued to her as their lord and king approached, but she merely smiled and curtsied deeply.

"Your majesty, meet Aspen of Rosehill, my betrothed."

A dark cloud came over the king's features that took Thorne off of his guard. The king thrust his hand forward and Aspen placed her delicate lips to the giant ring that signified his royalty.

"Rise, lady of Rosehill," the king commanded. "So, you are the angel that many lands are speaking of."

"I know not of whom they are speaking of, only that these good people have called me that before," she answered.

The king raised his eyebrows at her retort and Thorne cringed. Aspen's eyes darted from one to the other. The king recovered and smiled. "So very modest too...so rare. So are you one of the St. Michael's, my lady?" The king asked already knowing the answer.

Fury conjured in her face at the name. "Nay, I am not, your majesty."

"Ah, well, it looks as though we have some stories to tell. We shall meet again privately."

King Rothan took her hand and raised it to his lips never losing eye contact with her and planting a kiss on the back of her hand. Then, he and Thorne made for the study leaving Aspen and Mira to deal with the villagers.

"Please, all of you go to your homes and prepare for the festivities that will happen this eve. I shall see you all soon!" She bellowed to them and angrily, she took Mira's hand and returned to her chambers as Mira returned to her studies.

She was pacing as a caged beast when Thorne stepped into her room to speak with her about the king and his comments. Once before he had seen her this angry to where she was talking to herself and making wild gestures with her hands. He had to smile for she had so much spirit and let the door shut less than quietly to get her attention.

She gasped loudly as his intrusion took her by surprise and her fists planted themselves to her hips...and lovely hips at that. "How dare he say that I am one of THEM!"

"Darling, he did not say you were, he only asked if you could have been. It has been quite some years since he has seen their brood over there."

"No, he was just there and I am sure he got the full story. He thinks it comical that a peasant can dress up and pretend to be a noble. I really hope that you do not feel that way too," she spat.

"Despite your upbringing, you are a very noble woman."

"That isn't enough. It is all about birthright. Maybe I could see it a little more your way if my father was not a traitor and if my mother was not the earl's mistress."

"She was never the earl's mistress. She told you so even on her deathbed! Don't forsake her now that she is gone from you. He meant no offense, he told me that."

"And what about leaving me there not knowing what to do or say to the villagers while you go gossip about the house of peasants. Mira was sad she didn't get to shake his hand or even say hello. Why on earth did you not introduce her as well?"

"And how am I supposed to introduce her? As my servant or my daughter, Aspen?"

"As your _foster_ , Thorne. We are _fostering_ her."

He stopped thinking. He had heard of that and it did fit that they were indeed her substitute parents. She was right...again. He was tiring of her logic always being right.

"I am sorry you have felt neglected. I was so nervous and uncomfortable in front of him that I failed to acknowledge those things. But, King Rothan wants to see you, I think he wants to talk of something important or he would have waited until tomorrow to bring it up. He is also pushing me to wed you in secret before he moves on."

"Why would he do that?" she wondered aloud.

"He must know something we don't. Come, let us go talk with him, I don't want him to wait for too long."

Curiosity won her emotions over and she went with him.

### Chapter 11

They entered the study together and Rothan rose from his chair studying the two. He motioned with his glass of brandy for Aspen to take the chair opposite him and she obeyed. All the way down from her room Thorne had coached her to not speak unless spoken to and to mind her tongue and always, always do as the king asks.

When they were all settled the king began. "I want to know of you. I know you are not a St. Michael. You have more integrity in your right arm than they have in their entire family. But, I am warning you: stay clear of them now and always for I feel they are a threat to your life."

"Well then, sire, why don't we go eliminate him from leadership?" Thorne interrupted.

Rothan cleared his throat and continued. "In my visit with them, I devised that Rayven, St. Michael's heir, wants Aspen to wife and will stop at nothing to get his way. He is expecting a bastard child any time and if it is born a daughter, I worry that he will turn from this woman and pursue Aspen even harder, putting her at risk."

"Your majesty," Aspen inquired, "what risk am I put at? What could he possibly do to me if he cares for me so much?"

"Dear girl, the Earl St. Michael is not well. He deteriorates more every day and he is the reason you are safe for the time. But once he is dead, which appears not far away, Rayven...well let's say that he is less than scrupulous and he could possibly take you against your will. He would not release you to anyone. Mayhap, not even to myself and that worries me. If we could defeat him and remove him from power, that may put and end to it all, but he is slimy and may slip away escaping his death. In that case, it would do no good for he would just become stronger and more terrible than he is already. My idea to be married very soon is all a part of the plan to keep Aspen from him. I know not why you stall, Thorne, for if I had known how very beautiful she was I would have whisked her away myself and married her today," he chuckled to lighten the mood and when no one else joined in, he sobered and looked to them both. "I feel that festivities should be canceled or postponed...that is how fearful I am of him. For all I know, St. Michael could have died minutes ago and then all Hell will break loose and you would want to guard your angel with all you've got."

A thought occurred to Thorne. "You said he, this Rayven fellow, is expecting a child. What of the mother? Who is she?"

"I never met her, but if I knew someone else may take my place, I may do desperate things."

"Desperate meaning you would try to be rid of those in your way..." Thorne said slowly nodding his head, understanding dawning in his face.

"What? What are you thinking, my lord?" Aspen asked visibly shaken.

"Someone in Rosehill gave the poison to Mary's aunt who in turn gave the poison to Mary with orders to give it to you. They knew your maid and they probably know where you sleep. Undoubtedly, they think you are dead by now. Could it be this woman giving these orders to get you out of Rayven's mind? Mayhap then she would be embraced into the family."

"You were poisoned?" Rothan asked her quietly.

"Yes, your majesty, I was ill for quite some time. Today, the doctor gave me the wonderful early birthday gift of independence again," Aspen answered bowing her head sheepishly.

"It will soon be Aspen's eighteenth birthday and she had been in bed for so long that the doctor finally said she could be up to meet you, sire. But," Thorne went on to tell the whole story from beginning to end.

Rothan listened to the exciting story of mystery and murder taking a deep breath when Thorne had finished, staring at Aspen with awe.

The midday meal was exceptionally tasteful that day. Rothan took Thorne's seat and he and Aspen sat on either side of him. The other benches were full of the king's court and castle workers so that the whole room was buzzing with gossip and laughter.

"So," Rothan began, "how did you become a part of noble life, Aspen of Rosehill?"

Aspen nearly dropped her utensil and her gaze pleaded for help from Thorne. He cleared his throat catching the king's eye.

"I knew Aspen's father many years ago. He saved my life and I told him to name his price. He asked me to marry his daughter when she was of an age. I lost track of the years and he came to me again to ask if our bargain was still existing, for she had been of age for two years and I had never come for her. I apologized and came for her the next day. She was afraid and I was a little put out, but we have found love in our trials and adventures. She has changed my life and the lives all around her since she has come to us. The people adore her and my village prospers from her help and ideas."

Rothan could feel that there was more to the story than was relayed, but he could also feel the heat that was generated between them and knew the two were a match. "I'll tell you what. If you can successfully thwart St. Michael, you will obtain the lands of Rosehill. Eventually, you may find yourself with a small kingdom of your own."

This statement shocked Thorne and his utensil stopped halfway between his plate and his mouth allowing the words to sink in...his own kingdom. He never had the desire before to rule anything let alone anyone, but somehow in light of the changes in his life, it seemed attractive to him. Aspen saw the longing in his features and knew that for the first time he felt he could influence the lives of people everywhere for the better.

Aspen cleared her throat. "I will not cancel the festivities, your majesty. I will stay at Thorne's side through it all, but don't ask me to disappoint these people who have worked so hard and deserve to celebrate," she said defiantly.

Thorne cringed as she spoke out to the king without permission and she disregarded his warnings. He knew Rothan would take offense.

"If I may say something, your majesty," Thorne began waiting for approval, "I was thinking that we could ask the Father to marry us this night and hold the festivities another time," he finished and grinned weakly at the king's agreement knowing he was about to catch it from Aspen. He couldn't figure out whom he feared more...the king himself or his beautiful, feisty betrothed. He looked to Aspen and found her features obscured with anger, as he knew they would be. Calmly, she set down her utensil and stood from her seat placing her palms on the table and bending slightly forward to stare right into Thorne's eyes.

"Do you mean to tell me that these people have given you their all and you are going to take their moment of being honored for their efforts away from them? I will not have it! These people deserve this and I care not of rumors or opinions that cannot be proven, no matter the stakes! I expect the planting festival to go on as planned, for I will not marry a man who breaks his word to the people who look up to him the most!" she hissed at him.

"But, Aspen, this is for your welfare. We are trying to keep you safe," Thorne pleaded.

"Since when has the good of one been good for the many? Since I have been here, how many times has my life been threatened, and have I perished yet? I want these people to have an evening of pleasure, to forget their daily routines and to make their hard work count for something!"

"You are tempting Fate, my love, and I will not lose you! I know these people will understand the need to postpone if we tell them."

"And risk them becoming fearful of living here because of me? If we tell them that there is a threat from a neighboring village, do you think they will just go home and sleep soundly in their beds? If I lived here and heard that a powerful leader wanted to eliminate my powerful leader or their family, I would look to move on to a better place...a more tranquil place. I will not lose these people to anyone else! You have never been on their side and you don't know how it is to live that way. Peasant people do not want to die in conflict and telling them this will only scare them," she countered.

Thorne stared at her a moment. "So you are telling me that if St. Michael comes for you, that these people would like to die because they were kept in the dark? I think it is highly unfair that way, my lady."

He struck a chord in her and she reeled back as if he had slapped her. He was right and she knew it. "Do you really think he would try anything if his majesty was staying here with us?"

"I think he doesn't care about anyone but himself and his wants."

"That may be true, but how long will I have to be under lock and key before I can enjoy my life?" she retorted and stalked away from the table leaving the king wondering what in the world had just happened. Where he came from, women did not say anything the least bit unpleasant and he found lady Aspen quite arousing. What fun it would be to tame her and put her in her place.

"I would have slapped her to remind her that her duty is to me and not of herself, my lord," the king replied.

"With all due respect, your majesty, you would have no desire to show her what her place is if you could see the gentle and vulnerable side of her. She is all innocence and love and my people care for her more than they ever cared for any leader in this castle. I owe her everything. She came here and turned me around, she improved the village, and she has brought more gold into my reserves. I have lived comfortably on what money came in for my entire life. But to be making more through her improvements of the village puts a smile on my face and a festival planned for everyone. At a time that I cared not for anyone, she made me realize that it is easier to love than to hate...and more enjoyable."

This sentiment coming from such a brutal man touched him deeply. "So I take it that the festival is still going to happen," Rothan said slowly.

Thorne's head fell a bit as some manly pride deserted him and he nodded. "That is Aspen. I could not keep her locked even in the towers. She would find a way to escape and still hold the celebrations, your majesty."

A deep rumble of laughter bubbled forth and escaped Rothan's willpower. This man was so in love with that woman that he would jump off of a cliff if she asked him to. Thorne looked a bit wounded a spell and then joined in the mirth.

Rothan was slapping the tabletop and tears glistened in his eyes. He turned to Thorne and said, "Go calm the little lady down a bit and tell her that we will still hold tonight's events, but she will be under our watchful eyes. Mayhap that will take the thorn from her side, feisty little wench!" And a new wave of laughter ensued from him as Thorne ran to find his Aspen. As Rothan watched Thorne leave, a plan came to his mind...a good plan, if he did say so himself.

Aspen hummed the song that sang in her heart as she bathed and changed for the planting festival. She had won! She had made Thorne see her point and he agreed to allow the festival to continue. Sara was lacing her gown when Aspen began to hear the first string of villagers filtering into the bailey.

"We are running behind! We must hurry!" Aspen exclaimed. She felt the pressure of the pulling gone and turned to see Sara fetching the brush and jewels for her hair. This evening she had donned a dress of shimmering royal blue to compliment the king. Chloe had fashioned it with a new kind of fabric sent all the way from the Orients. It was a special woven silk that was nearly transparent...Chloe had called it a "sheer". It covered the blue gown as an overdress but the skirt was sectioned all the way around so that when she moved the sheer fabric floated aside to reveal the brilliant color of the dress beneath. The sleeves were full at the shoulders ending in upturned cuffs at the wrists and a full cape attached at her shoulders and her wrists to appear as wings if she spread her arms. It was a magnificent creation topped with tiny diamond cuts sewn in for a sparkling effect.

Sara returned and quickly braided Aspen's hair at her temples and then brought them to the back of her head to braid the two together weaving ribbons of royal blue embellished with diamonds through them. The rest of her hair was left down in waves to the middle of her back.

A knock on the door told Aspen she was about to be escorted to the fun.

"Come!" she shouted.

The door opened and Rothan stood in its place. Questions soared through her mind in seeing him there. Nevertheless, she dipped him a gracious curtsy and kissed his ring.

"Are you ready, dear girl?" he asked.

"Aye, I am, your majesty. If I may..." she began seeking permission to speak.

"Of course, my lady," he beckoned.

"Where is his lordship? Why did he not come for me?" she queried, her pretty brow furrowed.

"I asked his permission to escort you down to your people and he allowed me the privilege. If I may say, you look absolutely marvelous. That color is quite complimentary to your features. You look like a pixie about to cast a spell on me...not that I would mind," he said with a smile.

Aspen began to feel uncomfortable being alone with him in her bedchamber and started out of the room.

"May I offer you my hand?" he asked.

She knew he had asked, but she also knew that she should not refuse him, so she extended her hand silently and he slid his hand beneath hers. They walked down the corridor and down the staircase together and Rothan knew he could get used to having her at his side.

All eyes were on them as they floated down the stairs and Thorne turned around to see his lady on the arm of another man, no matter the man was his king, he still did not like it. Inside, he wished he had been able to think of any reason to keep the king from wanting to walk her down, but he couldn't. He watched Aspen take her last step down the stairs and could see the tension in her features so he moved to meet them there at the bottom.

Aspen quickly let go of Rothan's arm and crossed to Thorne as if being pursued by some evil. She had never been so glad to see him since she arrived. He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm, sending shivers down her spine and she in turn pecked his cheek in a modest display of public affection, which warmed him. Something was amiss and Thorne was afraid to get to the bottom of it.

"Is everything all right, Aspen?" Thorne asked concerned.

She cast a quick sideways glance towards the king before she masked her face and set a smile to her mouth. "Everything is perfect, my lord," she answered uneasily.

"We will talk later of this," he said. "Now, it is time to greet your guests and commence the fun and games. My lady?" He offered her is arm and she gladly placed her hand on his. He was the only man she wanted...the only man who could make her feel safe.

Suddenly, Rothan was behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder to murmur in her ear. "Make certain you stay within sight of his lordship or myself this night. Who knows who is hiding in the crowds?"

Gooseflesh erupted over her body at his eerie warning. She felt the overwhelming urge to run back to her rooms and hide, but she had made such a fuss about holding the festival she just couldn't be a coward. Instead she cleared her throat and shrugged his hand from her shoulder to continue with her husband-to-be.

They appeared at the top of the staircase leading to the bailey with all the poise of a king and queen, heads high and shoulders square, their posture rigid. But they had a glow...the glow of two people wanting to spend eternity together and the villagers let up a delightful wave of cheers. In unison they lifted their free hands and waved, smiling fondly. Then Thorne held his hand motionless for silence as Aspen's fell to her side. It was her moment. She stepped forward looking at all of the faces.

"Welcome, people of Cliffehaven!" she began nervously and perhaps a bit quietly. "We are so happy you are all here with us tonight. Eat and drink soundly, for you have all worked hard these past weeks and you all deserve a bit of fun!"

Wild cheers broke out and it brought a smile to her face. "His Majesty, King of Elgolan, has been able to join us this eve. Please make him feel welcome in our wonderful village," she finished. King Rothan passed through the doors and more cheering floated the evening air as she and Thorne paid their respects to him publicly, bowing and curtsying, and kissing his ring.

Rothan stood proudly before the people and held up his hand for silence as well. "I came here on rumors of amazing things happening here. Thus far, all I have seen is true. A once black land thriving again, a sight that comforts me greatly. I am sure that we all agree that this woman has made some changes of her own, changes that were much needed. So on this night, the eve of her birth eighteen years ago, I would like to present her with the title of Baroness and four thousand parcels of land in the north, complete with a modest home."

Aspen's eyes became wide with shock at the gift and the people were happy for her. Her breath came in gasps and her composure faltered. She was a noble woman by the grace of the king! She moved to curtsy before him and he took her elbow thwarting her effort.

"I would also like to give her a gift she can see now," he said and pulled forth a cloth bundle from a pouch on his belt. He let the cloth fall away to reveal a sapphire cut as a heart glittering in the evening sunlight. It was so beautiful that she had to restrain herself from touching it. It was one of the biggest gems she had ever seen and was surrounded by small cuts of diamonds and emeralds hung on a golden chain. Rothan lifted it on his fingers and moved behind her to fasten it beneath her hair. "This," he began, "is the purest sapphire in the land for the purest of heart. May my Heart of Gratitude rest upon yours, Baroness. And furthermore," he said fiddling in his pouch again, pulling out a ring with a giant square cut sapphire and taking her right hand in his, "this is a token to remind you that you are found to be in your king's favor. Wear it proudly, for not many of these rings are worn," he finished by placing the ring on her index finger of her right hand and kissing her forehead.

She fell to her knees, a conflict of emotions coursing through her. "Thank you, your majesty. You are too kind," she praised.

Rothan turned to the crowd. "Let us wish the Baroness a happy birthday!" he shouted.

She looked out to the people shouting _happy birthdays , long live the Baroness, and we love the angel,_ and realized that none of this would have been possible had Thorne not come for her and she frantically searched for him.

She stood once more. "I am so happy to be in all of your favor, however we are forgetting that if his lordship had not come for me, none of this would be happening. I think that your lord of Cliffehaven deserves your praise as well."

In the shadow of the setting sun, Thorne leaned against the wall trying to be happy for her. No, he was happy for her, he was just feeling pangs of jealousy at her effect on his people, the king and all that lay eyes on her...like St. Michael. He heard her sentiments and his heart lifted a notch and he stepped out to slip his arm around her waist. She was his and by being given the title of Baroness, his marriage to her was legal. In that he took comfort.

"Let the games begin!" Thorne shouted out.

Immediately, music began and the torch lighters came out on their stilts lighting the shadows of the approaching darkness. "Congratulations, my baroness," Thorne whispered and softly kissed her lips.

"Oh, Thorne, I had no idea. He took me completely by surprise," she breathed.

"You are not the only one he shocked," Thorne replied gritting his teeth. "But now, I would love it if you would come and dance with me."

She smiled. "I accept your invitation, my lord."

He took her hand in his to lead her down the steps where Rothan tapped his shoulder.

"My lord, I was hoping to dance with the Baroness this song. You don't mind, do you?" Rothan spoke smooth as honey. He knew very well he would mind and that made it all the more appealing.

"Of course not, your majesty," he replied and he saw the fear in Aspen's face, like a child taken from her mother to be fed to the wolves.

"The next song is ours," he whispered to console her. She made a move to speak and he hushed her with his finger on her lips and turned from her to hand her to his king.

She refused to look at Rothan and kept her eye on Thorne even as the king spoke to her.

"I do hope my gifts were acceptable, Baroness," he said softly.

"Your gifts were too extravagant, in my opinion, but they are appreciated, your majesty."

A twirl and a change in dance partners rescued her from his clutches. Eventually, she was dancing with him again.

"I would love to see the village tomorrow in the morn, and in the afternoon, I want to invite you for a ride and perhaps a picnic."

"We shall see what tomorrow brings, sire," she dodged knowing she may risk his wrath by not fully accepting.

Again the twirl and partner change. The peasant men were staring at her and her new jewels longingly. She simply smiled and complimented their steps. And all too soon she found herself back in Rothan's arms.

"You know, Baroness, nothing is written in stone. You could come home with me and we could be married. You would be a queen!" he bribed.

A wave of nausea invaded her. How dare he! "I am in love with Thorne, your majesty. I would marry him."

"But I can give you more than a lowly earl. You deserve more than that, I saw it in you tonight. The people adore you...I adore you. Would you please consider it? You can answer me at our picnic tomorrow afternoon."

The music ended, thank the Lord, and Aspen curtsied her thanks and rushed straight back to Thorne, breathless.

A minstrel came forth plucking the strings of his lute as he sang a ballad to all that would hear it. Thorne took Aspen by the hand and brought her to where the dancers were congregated and they placed their palms together and stepped to the music.

"Two candles walked the world unlit," the minstrel began, "One from despair, the other from hate. And thus the two as one flame unite, and now the world sees by their light," he sang.

Aspen knew the words had been written only for them and she would remember them forever. The rest of the words were drowned out by Thorne's whispers and Aspen would not hear them again for a long while.

"You seem distressed by the king, my lady," Thorne said.

"Aye, he makes me very nervous," she answered.

"Has he offended you? Or said hurtful things at you?" he asked.

"Nay, it is little hidden meanings. But perhaps I am being silly and hearing things that are not really there," she smiled.

"What did he say just now? I could see him talking to you."

She thought about telling him the entire truth, but decided against it. She did not want it to hurt him or anger him. She wanted him to stay in the king's favor.

"He wants to see the village and then he invited me for a ride and a picnic," she stated as if it was boring her to talk of it.

"That sounds like a great plan! I will speak to Cook so she can throw a basket together."

Her eyes lit up. "You would go with us?"

"I thought that was what you were saying. Will we not all go?"

Aspen let a half sigh, half laugh escape her. He would save her from being alone with Rothan! "I would not go otherwise," she said.

The minstrel's tale ended and the dancers all clapped and cheered, the writer and deliverer of the song bowed and blushed. Thorne and Aspen clapped their appreciation as well and passed him two gold pieces. He bowed low to them.

"You are a great source of inspiration, my lady...my lord," he said.

Thorne stood there a time not knowing what to say to return the compliment but Aspen curtsied to him and took his hand.

"Thank you, good sir. We so enjoy your talent," she smiled.

"Thank you, my lady, thank you!" And he went back to play again with the rest of the musicians.

A bell rang out in the night and alarms went off in Thorne's mind as his head whisked up to eye the guard tower. A cart rumbled into the bailey laden with a heavy object covered by a blanket. The driver stopped the cart and lifted his hands to show he was unarmed.

Thorne strode to him. "State your business and where you are from, sir!" he shouted.

The man's voice shook as he tried to shout back, "I am of Standfast Pass, my lord! I bear a gift for her ladyship!"

Disbelief widened his eyes. Who was sending Aspen a gift that could afford to have it brought in from as far as Steadfast Pass? The king perhaps? "I shall help you unload it," he said.

The man jumped down and loosened the ropes holding the object in place. Thorne wandered to his side to whisper to him.

"Who has ordered this, for I did not?"

"I believe it came from a place called Rosehill, my lord. Would you take that end over there?"

Thorne's body felt numb. So, St. Michael wasn't giving up then? Fury pulsed through him as he helped the man unload. He tried to give him a piece of silver and the man shook his head at it.

"I was paid a large sum of coin, my lord, just to be sure it got here." And he clicked his tongue and slapped the reins on his team of horses. Thorne watched them until they were gone, allowing the information to sink into his brain. Finally, he turned to the crowd and painted a smile upon his face even though his insides were a disaster.

"Happy birthday, my love!" Thorne shouted motioning to the bundle that was nearly as tall as he. "Come and see what waits for you beneath the cloth."

Excitement radiated from her face as she let her hands clutch the fabric and pulled hard revealing the most beautiful harp she had ever seen. Thorne crinkled his brow for a split second wondering why St. Michael would send her this. He watched her gasp for breath at its beauty and run her fingers along the strings. It seemed so long ago that she had played...since the day at the castle, the day before she was brought here, months ago.

Rothan made his way to the front of the crowd. "Could we hear a song, my lady?" he called. She grinned sheepishly looking to Thorne.

She drew her arms about his neck and pulled him close to her. "Thank you, Thorne," she whispered.

He patted her back. "I think you are in for a performance. The people want to hear _your_ talent now," he answered.

She let him go and one of the musicians brought her a stool to sit on. She let the harp rest upon her right shoulder. Just the feel of the weight brought back her lessons and she began to pluck the song of the Waterfall. Thorne watched her fingers go and heard the music dance on the evening air to him and he wished he had thought about this on his own and had beaten St. Michael to it. But, she would never have to know that it was not from him.

She plucked the last string and the villagers sat still for a moment hoping there was more to come. When Aspen lifted her head, applause broke out. Pride swelled within her and she curtsied to them and shouted her thanks all the while beaming.

Rothan came forward and kissed the back of her hand. "That was a beautiful piece! You will never cease to amaze me, Baroness."

Thorne ruffled his feathers and stepped in front of the king and placed a kiss upon her flushed cheek, gloating. "Aspen tells me we are scheduled to go on a tour of the village tomorrow morn and then for a picnic in the afternoon, your majesty. I must say I am looking forward to it very much," he jabbed.

Rothan flicked his eyes to Aspen rage coloring his face red for an instant before he recovered and smiled easily at him. "If you wish to tour with us, you are welcome to my lord. But, I invited the Baroness to a picnic, not you. We shan't be too late coming in," he replied haughtily.

The veins in Thorne's neck were bulging and his fury was nearly at the breaking point. "You had best get her in early for she needs to prepare for our wedding ceremony. I had hoped you would be our witness, sire," he said smoothly.

Rothan gritted his teeth. "Of course, my lord. I would love to."

Aspen watched this happen and she wanted to shout at them to stop behaving as boys and ask what she might want, but instead she spun on her heel and stormed away. _Let them kill each other, I do not care anymore_ , she thought. And then the realization that she would be alone with Rothan the next day hit her and her fears grew. Thorne would not be there to help her if the king pushed her to run away with him again.

She made for the tap and poured herself a cup of ale, downing it quickly. She would not go. She would simply wake in the morn and feign illness. She could make it seem as though being out of bed this day had been too hard on her and she needed to rest. But, mayhap then the king would insist on sitting at her bedside prodding her for confessions of devotion she could not give him. No, her bedroom would not work. At least in the countryside she could run and hide from him.

The festivities ended on a cheerful note and the people wandered back to their homes, some drunk, some not...but all happy. Aspen excused herself and hustled to her room. Thorne could sense the hostility in her, but she had snapped her feelings shut tighter than a clam in the sand. She would barely even speak. He and Rothan watched her go, her cape fluttering behind her like the wings of a fairy princess.

"With all due respect, your majesty, Aspen is my betrothed and I would appreciate it if you would treat her with respect and dignity. I see that you want her for yourself but she is mine. Please remember that."

"She is a beautiful woman, ambitious and kind. Of course I want her...but let us see who she chooses in the end," he retorted and stalked away leaving seeds of doubt sprouting in Thorne's mind.

Thorne decided he would stop to say goodnight to Aspen before he went off to bed. Perhaps he could get her to talk to him if Rothan was not around. He turned the corner to find none other than Rothan rapping at her door. Thorne swore in his mind wondering if he would ever get the hint and give it up. He slipped into his own room and removed his boots and his tunic before he silently made his way through the connecting door into her dressing room, which was littered with puddles of silk gowns.

"Might I come in and wish you a good rest, Baroness?" Thorne heard the king ask Aspen.

"Your majesty, you know that it would be improper. I take your tidings here and now. Good night," she answered and began to close the door.

He thrust his boot in the doorway so Aspen could not close the door.

"I could sit by your bedside until you fell asleep," he countered.

Thorne had had about enough of Rothan to last him the rest of his life and now he wanted to throttle him!

"Your majesty, I will see you in the morn at the morning meal. Until then, good night," she said sweetly and again tried to shut the door. The king groaned in pain and removed his foot allowing the door to close. Aspen spun around and leaned heavily against it, her head falling into her hands. Thorne began to see how the king was pressuring her and why she was behaving the way she was. He turned and went back through the secret door as quietly as he had come.

How she wished Thorne had been there to ward off this man who calls himself a king. She took in a deep breath and stepped away from the door to ready herself for bed. Once she had blown out the candle, her mind began to wander and she found she was restless. She was going to be a wife tomorrow night. She would be required to fulfill many responsibilities that were unfamiliar to her. It terrified a part of her and tickled her curious side. Finally, she could no longer stand it and she slid from her bed and went into Thorne's room to see if he was there.

_So, she was as unable to sleep as he was_ , Thorne thought. She stepped through the secret door in her white linen nightdress, all woman beneath. She would belong to him tomorrow night and they could finally make their union complete and dignified.

"Thorne?" she called to him on the stillness of the night.

"What is it darling?" he answered her feigning fatigue.

"Could I sit with you a moment?"

His heart soared and happiness warmed him from his head to his toes. "Please do, my lady."

She pattered to his bedside and sat on the edge drawing her knees up beneath her nightdress.

"Are you scared about being married tomorrow?" she asked him innocently.

"Aye, perhaps a little," he answered.

"I figured you were," she said.

"Why would you think that?" he asked, raising up on his elbow to look at her better.

"Well, I have always wanted to be married and be a mother and a wife and now that the time is here, I am scared. You, on the other hand, never wanted to get married and have a family so I can only imagine the things racing inside of you."

"I just needed to find the right woman and that woman is you. None other. All right?"

"You are sure this is what you want?" she asked. "You aren't doing this to prove anything to the king, are you? Or even St. Michael? You really want to get married?" she pried.

"Are you stalling to have more time with that miserable bloke?" he countered.

"You must be crazy! Of course not!" she nearly shouted.

"Then of course I wish to be married," he answered with a grin on his lips.

Aspen fingered the lace on the cuff of her gown and biting her lip. "Thank you for the harp and the gowns and the jewels...I had a wonderful birthday."

His heart skipped a beat at her sincere thanks. "It was my pleasure," he answered knowing the harp was not from him but taking the credit anyway.

"Well, get some rest and I will see you in the morn, my lord," she said hopping to the floor.

"I can't wait."

Aspen felt as if she had barely shut her eyes and Sara walked in to ready her bath. She rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head, groaning.

"'Tis time to be up, my lady!" Sara coaxed. Aspen only groaned again in protest. "His lordship and his majesty will be waiting for you if we do not hurry!" she said pulling the blankets from her lady and grasping her arm.

Reluctantly, Aspen rose and allowed herself to sink into the warm water. When she finally got her bearings and woke up some, she hurried to get washed. Sara made sure her dress fit perfectly and her jewelry was put back on before plaiting her hair long down her back. The gown she wore was a soft yellow silk gown, very modest but comfortable. Another gown similar to a long tunic split at the sides and laced was worn over the yellow gown. The over dress was white lace and was trimmed in a dark blue. Sara pinned a shawl of white lace to her gown for the trip out of doors in the bright sun to cover her head with.

"Thank you, Sara. I will be needing my riding habit when I return from the village," she said and hurried off to the meal.

Rothan and Thorne were at their usual places when she arrived. Instantly, they both stood to greet her good morning, glaring at the other.

Aspen floated straight to Thorne and he kissed her palm affectionately, while Rothan seethed at his lack of her attentions. He had given her so much more than this squeamish underdog and she still felt loyal to him. Well, things were about to change...he held the power to change them.

After the morning meal of toasted bread and soft eggs, early apples and fruit preserves, Thorne was given the opportunity to escort Aspen to the king's carriage door and help her inside. The interior was lush and comfortable, royal blue satin lined the walls and cushioned the seats, silver pillows were thrown about, a rug of white dotted with blue stars was lain across the floor, and deep blue curtains were pulled back from the windows so they were able to enjoy the countryside. Rothan passed his bejeweled hand through the window gesturing to the footman that he was ready to begin. The white carriage pulled by white horses lurched forward.

Thorne spent time explaining all they had been doing and building as they rambled down the dirt road of ruts.

"It feels like your villagers need to come out with shovels and fill in these holes, Lord Darktower," the king said smugly. Suddenly they hit a large one and nearly toppled Rothan out of his seat and his crown slipped from his head to rest on the bridge of his nose. Thorne and Aspen both had to busy themselves with the scenery to keep from bursting with laughter. Rothan, however, grunted loudly and stood to pound on the roof of the cab only to hit another bump to throw him back into his seat with a loud groan. Thorne feigned a cough and Aspen felt the sudden urge to yawn as another wave of laughter nearly claimed them.

"Are you all right, your majesty?" Thorne asked once his fit had passed.

Rothan merely glared at him.

They finally made it to the village where Rothan began to take more interest looking at the homes they had built, the smooth road and the village square. They went into the tavern and had a cool tankard of ale where Rothan admitted he was genuinely pleased with the improvements, yet he gave all the credit to Aspen, although she hardly had been able to help bring her ideas to life.

"You should be congratulating Thorne and the men and women of the community who made all of this possible, sire," she said, but Rothan paid her little heed.

Thorne's insides burned and his fingers itched to squeeze the life from this arrogant, self-righteous weasel, but instead he took Aspen's hand and stared the king in the eye.

"It was all her idea, I am sure you know, and if she wasn't here...no, if I was not a total horse's ass and had not brought her here against her will then my people would still be wallowing in misery."

Aspen's head snapped to catch his glare and try to make him see that he was getting mouthy.

Rothan grinned a sly grin and said, "Lord Darktower, I do believe that had the Baroness not found her way into your life, you would have no village left for they would all be living in Rosehill by now. She had mended your problems and given you a new outlook on life and for that she should be rewarded by being released as your captive and allowed to go with me to be my wife. If you truly love her, you would do this for her."

Thorne's grip on Aspen's hand began to crush her and she jumped from her seat. "I think it is time we should be going. 'Tis getting late, I am sure," she said to break the growing tension.

Thorne glowered at her. "Are you so anxious to go riding with him that you cut our time short today?" he boomed. The tavern became still and quiet, all ears and eyes on the alert.

"I do not even want to go riding today or any day! I only want this boyish bickering to cease!" she yelled even louder and ran from the building leaving the two roosters to battle it out.

"You see, Lord Darktower? You hurt her without even meaning to. Let her go, boy," Rothan breathed.

Thorne took the two steps separating them, his nose mere inches from his liege's and raised his fist ready to strike at long last. Fury blinded him and rage filled his heart until he could no longer stand it.

Aspen stood huffing in her room pacing and venting her anger on anything she could find. She had ran nearly all the way home to get away from both of the childish men she must endure. She removed her jewelry from Rothan and placed it upon the mantle of the fireplace as if it were evil, spinning her back to the wall and falling heavily against it. She could hear the clip clop of the carriage returning and just then, the wall swung open causing her to stumble, but revealing a dark hallway ahead of her. Excitement and fear possessed her and she snagged the candle from her dressing table and lit it carrying it into the darkness.

As she passed through, the door closed itself enclosing her into absolute blackness with just a small ball of light from her candle to illuminate her way. She couldn't help herself and wondered who had last walked this path. She came to a bend in the hallway and turned, hoping that there was something pleasant waiting for her. There was an arch in the stone and then opened into a small room littered with dust and cobwebs amongst other objects she could not quite make out from the doorway. She held the candle up to the walls to find small torches, which she took the chance lighting. The torches crackled in the flame but one by one they were brought to life until the room looked almost comfortable. Aspen walked around surprised at what she found. There was a long sitting chair draped with a blanket, next to it was a table containing a book, a tea cup and saucer, a partially burned candle with tinder and sketches of three children in wooden frames. In another corner was a chest, which Aspen opened coughing in the dust cloud that filled the air, but finding a treasure of gowns. ' _What is this place?_ ' she wondered as she pulled out the top gown and shook it free of dirt. It was made of spun cotton woven tightly. It was very old, she could tell. It had been made before they began to import silk and velvets, but it was spectacular with all of the knitted lace and colorful embroidery on the cream colored fabric. Carefully, she laid it across the lounging chair to dive for another. This one was cream colored as well, but the sleeves were long and drooping and was sewn with pearls and trimmed in knitted lace and a sash fell to the floor as she shook it which was covered in soft embroidered flowers and vines. Aspen smiled at her find and looked deeper into the chest under the remaining gowns. Her fingers closed upon a softer fabric and curiously pulled it free. It was another gown of a dimming white, made of what she thought was muslin. Upon further examination she saw that the gown was turned with the outside in and when she turned it right, she found the gown had an over dress of white knitted lace sewn with what looked to be diamond chips, the same long sleeves, but also a high neckline trimmed with a large flounce of lace that would brush the chin. A wedding gown, she could be sure. If it was not, she thought she would use it for her secret wedding this night. Excited, she searched for matching pieces and emptied the chest. At the bottom, she found a cloth parcel secured by a piece of rope. Reverently, she untied it to find a pair of leather slippers, a headdress and crown, a cloak of knitted lace, and a diamond teardrop pendant. It was all so old and wrinkled, but was utterly breathtaking. She wondered if Thorne knew of this place and who's hidden chamber this was.

Next, she stood to examine a dusty tapestry depicting a tragic battle scene in suits of armor and an unseen nemesis. In the corner of the room there was a lone sword standing in its sheath. As she bent to pick it up, she saw the gems that made the intricate gold hilt glitter in the torchlight. The gold was crafted into the tails of two dragons that wound around the hand that would wield the sword almost protectively. The dragons' bodies and heads wound further up to meet the blade and as Aspen drew it from the sheath, the highly polished steel glinted and she saw the inscription of Thorne's family crest above the dragons and there were words scripted in a different language that covered the entire blade which she could not read. She replaced the sheath and set it back into its place before she returned to the book on the table. She thumbed through the pages to see what kind of book it was and it looked as though it was some record book. It was not uncommon for noble persons to keep a record book of their lives. She sat on the chair and waved away the dust, opening the book to the first page. The scroll writing was hard to decipher at first, but as she continued reading it became easier.

' _I am beginning this book on the first day of my new life. I have just been married to Lord Darktower. The king of Elgolan has given my father the title of Earl when he was a baron my entire life. All I had to do was marry Devlin. My brother, Wilford sees it as an opportunity to step into control once our father dies. He thinks I will help him. But, the more I am here, the more I like it. It could be such a wonderful place...'_

Aspen turned the page.

' _I stumbled upon this room today and had Devlin help me pack in a few things of comfort so I can have a retreat. My family will have a place to hide in the event of an attack and they will never find us. I have brought in things that are special to me to preserve them if I die. The one who finds my things will cherish my things as I have. I hope that mayhap I will have a daughter to wear my wedding gown that had been sewn so carefully by Chloe in Glendella's Glade. And sons who will make use of some of the other treasures my chest holds.'_

Aspen turned the page, fascinated by what she had found.

' _Doctor Love confirmed to me today that I am with child. I have never been so thrilled! Wilford is angry that I conceived so quickly for his plans will be ruined. Father has been ill and we will not know how long he will be alive now. Wilford is making his plans and I feel he is being greedy and selfish. He has assumed the role as earl when our father is not even dead yet. It angers me for my father is such a loving man and deserves to rule Rosehill until he is dead...'_

Aspen focused on the word Rosehill. Thorne's mother was the daughter of the old Earl of Rosehill and the Earl St. Michael wants Cliffehaven as much as the Darktowers want Rosehill. It must have been an age-old feud and marriage proposals were made in an effort to gain control of the other village. It seemed that Thorne's mother fell in love with Cliffehaven and with Lord Darktower.

Aspen quickly gathered the dress and the book, stopping only to dig out the family brooch to present to Thorne at their ceremony and snuffed out the torches once again walking in the gloom with her candle. She could tell she had been here for a long time for her candle was but a nub throwing off a shivery, weak light. She reached the end of the corridor and pushed on the wall and nothing happened.

She turned as she had when it had opened and leaned against it. Still, nothing happened. She began to panic wondering how she would get out and slapped at the wall in different places thinking there was a lever or a trigger of some kind she was not hitting. She was panting and sweating in the heat of the closed in space and could feel the walls closing in on her. She let her forehead fall to the obstinate wall and to her relief...it moved and let her out.

The bright light of the day nearly blinded her and she had to shield her eyes. She blew out the candle and put it back into her dressing room, slipping the brooch into her trunk. Then she carefully laid the gown she had found across her bed.

Thorne burst in screaming for her in terror. Aspen spun in alarm.

"What? What is the matter, my lord?" she exclaimed breathless.

He ran to her to hold her tight. He was shaking with fright and she could feel wetness on his face. "Thank God you are safe," he murmured.

"I am so sorry, Thorne. I did not mean to alarm you."

"We were so afraid that St. Michael had been here when we could not find you anywhere. The castle staff said that they saw you come in but none had seen you since then."

"I wanted to get away from the fighting, I needed a place to collect my thoughts and I found just that."

"I am glad, but you were supposed to go riding with the king long ago. He is quite put out and upset. I will fetch Sara to help you get ready."

"I do not want to go riding with a bloke like him. I do not want to be in the same room. Mayhap I can go hide again and he will forget about it. Or tell him I was lost and I do not feel well now and cannot go. Tell him anything but that I will join him today! I want to spend time with you, not him. I want to talk to you about what I happened to find. Please tell him I do not feel like going out."

Thorne was happy about her sentiments, but a lingering black cloud dampened his happiness. "I have no choice, Aspen, just as you have no choice. Get out of your filthy gown and be ready immediately," he said dully.

She noticed that he was broken. He had lost all hope and had given her up to Rothan. She shook her head at him. "Why are you doing this? Why are you feeding me to the beast?"

His head fell into his hands and he shook with sorrow. She held him in her embrace until the tears subsided. He looked up at her with the deepest regrets ever known shining back at her from his eyes.

"I struck him..." was all he had to say.

Her lungs failed her and she pulled at the air around her but it did her no good. A wave of nausea overtook her and any happiness she had felt left her an empty shell just as it had Thorne.

"He will force me?" she asked.

"He will bend you to what he wants. He cares for no one but himself. I am so sorry I have failed you and let you fall into his hands."

"I have a plan. I will go out with him if you will alert the Father and find a place for us to be married in secret. Then we will consummate our marriage and then he will not want me. Or we can make love this moment and he will not want me then either," she panicked grabbing his tunic with tears in her eyes. She stood on her tip toes and kissed his passionately on the mouth in which he willingly joined until his thoughts caught up with him and the sworn punishment shone vividly in his mind. He pulled her away from him trying to look away from the anguish in her face.

"Aspen, I have died within at losing you to him, but I do not wish to be quartered," he whispered.

Shock invaded her features at his brutal revelation. Her hand stole to his face.

"He will tie you to horses and pull your body apart because he is being an ass? That is the most horrible thing I have ever heard of! If he orders me to marry him, I will throw myself from Kara's place before I will give him the satisfaction," she answered in total resolve. "I will marry none other than you, my lord."

"You must get ready, my love" he said.

"You will be here when I return, will you not?" she asked swallowing the lump within her throat.

"Perhaps," was all he said and was gone.

### Chapter 12

Aspen felt a lump in her throat rise and despair pricked at her eyes as she digested his words. He had struck the king, his king, and now that king would take what he wanted no matter the cost. Absently, she fingered the treasure she had found knowing it would perhaps be worn by another instead of her. Another woman would stand at Thorne's side one day while she was wedded to a man who only wanted her for sport. The future was feeling gray even as she helped herself into her riding gown. If she were forced to wed the king, she would not live to see the morn, for she would not be with such a devil.

Some time later, she strode into the library where Rothan sat slapping a crop against his thigh. He was dressed casually, for a king, in breeches and hose, soft boots, a tunic of gray, a black cloak, and a round hat. His crystal blue eyes shone through her and she could feel his excitement reverberate through the room. It was enough to make her stomach turn. Nevertheless, she pulled a deep breath and curtsied before him, kissing his ring that was settled over his gloved fingers. She thought to faint, or to vomit in his presence and be sent to her bed, but in the end the result would stay the same.

"Shall we go, Baroness? I have seen to it that your horse be saddled," he cooed at her. She could sense his victory in his words.

"Yes, your majesty," a simple answer for a very simple man.

He extended his hand to her and she forced herself to be polite and rest her gloved palm against his and allow him to lead her to the stables. As they passed through the bailey, she stole a glance toward the castle and thought she spied Thorne in a window, but he was gone almost as she had thought she had seen it.

Thorne could barely breathe, for it hurt him too badly. She was so beautiful, so graceful, even in her sadness. He knew that she truly loved him and he could not bear to think of life again without her. He reflected back upon the times she had almost given in to death and the pain he had felt that he thought could tear him in two. It all paled in comparison to what he felt at that moment. He wasn't losing her to the unknown...he was losing her to another man of skin and bone, the same as he. She would continue to walk and speak and have children, all that he had wanted with her would be done now with another.

He thought to be married the instant they returned and consummate their union before the king even knew what had happened. But then again, what happiness would there be in it if he were run through for disobeying his king? No, he would have to relinquish her to him and forget her. There would never be another. She was his everything. What does one do when everything is gone?

His head fell into his hands and he wished and prayed until he felt void of even his very soul.

The countryside was in bloom and the combination of fresh leaves and moist soil giving birth to fragrant wildflowers intoxicated Aspen. Admiring the flowers, her thoughts strayed to Mira and her bouquets. She would never receive another if the king swept her away. She sat tall and confident on her horse, though she despised the lady's saddle. She felt all twisted around and one side of her bottom seemed to go numb before the other. No, she much preferred a horse's bareback to any kind of saddle. The wind decided to gust and tore her shawl free of her head and shoulders. She didn't care, but it was a chance to steal a last glance back at her home. She pulled the reins and whispered to her beauty, sliding from the saddle and landing with nary a sound in the green grass. She bent to pick up her shawl and stared back at the castle as she secured it once again. A sigh escaped her and she turned to mount her horse and that blasted saddle once again.

"Really, my lady, I am not such a bad man. You may get used to me. Give me a chance," Rothan smiled.

"How much further do you wish to take me?" she asked less than formal.

A chuckle bubbled inside of his rounded belly. "I wish to take you all the way to my keep. I will watch you all day, everyday, and hang anyone else who dares a glance your way. I will worship you and spoil you silly. And you, in turn will obey me and teach me."

Aspen furrowed her brow and helped herself back into her saddle.

He saw the fleeting look of resentment on her face before she mounted her horse again. She was not impressed with him. Did not every girl dream of becoming a queen? She was rejecting him without even saying so and he did not like it a bit. She would come to care for him, just as she had the earl.

Rothan watched her trot away from him and keep her distance. She held perfect poise as the sun peeked at her from behind the clouds casting her into its radiance. The gentle breeze from the ocean ruffled her skirt of a rough brown fabric to appear as velvet on her body. The shawl around her head and shoulders shone white as a maiden's veil at her bridegroom's side, enhancing her innocence. She was the only one he had found, since his wife's passing years ago, who had stirred feeling in him and he reveled in that.

They guided their steeds through the trees and brush of the hills until they came to a clearing, which was placed at the very crest of what seemed to be the tallest of all the hills around them. Aspen drew in her breath at the magnitude of the vista before her. She could see the ocean sparkling on the horizon like a giant lake of diamonds in the sunlight, wildflowers dotted the countryside as far as she could see, trees were fully bloomed some with flowers, some without, but all vibrant and green. The village was gone as was the castle as if Rothan had already taken her away to a foreign place. She could not even hear any distant noise of industry and civility.

"What a serene setting for our picnic, my lady," he whispered to her as his hands came to rest on her shoulders. Quickly, she ducked away from him and hugged her arms about her.

"'Tis a magnificent place, however I fear that we should have stayed at the castle to doctor your face," she said nodding to the purple mark on his jaw.

He made a grunting noise at her. "I could not wait to get away from that place. This is a grand improvement. Perhaps you could look after my face...give it a healing touch?" he grinned.

She wanted to strike him herself, but she thought of the gallows and decided she would rather throw herself from the ramparts than feel her neck stretched by a rope.

"I have no touch, your majesty," she stated flatly.

Rothan's smile faded. She was impossible! "Let us eat then...that is surely what has you in such a foul disposition."

He tugged open the pack on his horse and pulled a blanket free to lay upon the grass. Aspen sighed and turned back to the view in time to catch the gulls diving into the water in search of their own midday meal.

"Come and sit, my dear. There are many tasty morsels here...and wine! Your cook has sent us a blessedly beautiful bottle."

Aspen turned and thought that it could quite possibly be a wonderful outing if Thorne were here instead. Then her mind wandered to a different picnic not so very long ago. It was a magical moment in her life until it ended in tragedy and she thought her life was over. Would this day end similar to that one?

"Aspen! Come and sit! There are better things to eat than your lip," he smiled once again. His eyes twinkled like the ocean in the distance for a brief time as she joined him realizing that she had been biting her lower lip again.

He served her food and placed cubes of cheese in her mouth, tantalized her palate with fruits, sharing the bottle of wine with her until she had had enough and refused any more food. Rothan nibbled a bit longer.

"What are you thinking of, Aspen?" he queried.

"You would not want to know, really," she answered him.

"But I do. I want to know everything about you."

"Very well. I was thinking of the first picnic I had ever been on. I remember how the ocean smelled and how cold the water was on my feet and the tree..." she broke off.

"The tree? You remember a tree? Of all the things to think of, why a tree?" he sounded annoyingly condescending.

Aspen thought to throw a bit of salt in his wound. "That was where I was kissed by Thorne. He was so soft and not all business, if you catch me."

Rothan winced at her revelation. "And how did the little tryst end? Down in the surf with your skirts over your head?" he flung back at her.

Her look had changed and her head fell a bit, but she maintained most of her composure.

"Aspen?"

Her eyes snapped to his. There were tears there that she refused to shed. "It was a lovely day with a terrible end that made way for a lifetime of devotion, sire. And now you come here and threaten to make that day one of insignificance. I have pledged my allegiance to you as my king, but I have pledged my heart to Thorne as my husband. I do not love you the way I love him."

"I do not ask you to, I only ask you to give me the chance to prove my love for you."

"If you love me, you will let me live to be happy. To take that away in hopes that things will change in your favor is not love...it is selfishness. I am sorry, but that is how I see it."

"And I see that it is selfish of you to put your own feelings before the people of this territory who need you."

"Why do they need me? They have a leader in you."

Rothan chewed a bite of salted venison carefully to finally wash it down with the last of the wine before speaking. "My wife was a great woman who passed years ago. She was struck down with ailment after ailment when my last son was born. At God's benevolent hand did she finally leave me. I ached each day that I saw her hurting. I am a man of power and influence, but I had not the resources to save her or ease her pain. My sons barely remember her, but they feel her around them. My city, Farrin, named for her at her passing, harbored many heartbroken and lost followers of hers. Lady Farrin united them and bestowed her love upon each of them. Now, it is a place of melancholy, despite my efforts and the efforts of my sons. We cannot reach them. They need a compassionate hand, your hand, to bring them back to life as it once was. I have seen with my own eyes that you have done that here and I know you could do it again. You should have been named 'Hope' for that is what you are to all who come in contact with you. You have awakened that in me as well."

Aspen knew not what to say. It wasn't about love to him, but about a duty to all his people in Elgolan and it should be to her also, just as a soldier has a duty to his king so did she.

"You say many touching sentiments, but I cannot simply leave my home and the man I love with my very soul or even the people who need me here. I feel that this is my place...by his side and not yours, your majesty."

Rothan's anger nearly stole away from him then. "This is no longer your home, Aspen. I command you to disengage yourself from the earl and return with me to Farrin on the day after the morrow. We have an appearance to make at the ball on the morrow where we will announce to all the nobles that we are engaged to be wed upon our return to my keep."

Aspen flew to her feet planting her fists on her hips, her lips nearly pursed into nothingness she was so angry. "You will not have me! You cannot order a human being to bend to your will! I would rather dive from the tops of the castle to the rocks below before I allowed you to ruin the only chance I have ever had at happiness!" she bellowed at him. Then she strode to her beast and in one fluid motion had yanked the strap of the saddle from the horse's belly and had thrown the dreadful formality to the ground. She kicked it soundly and grabbed two fistfuls of mane pulling herself upon the buckskin back to straddle it as she commanded it to run as if the devil were after her.

Rothan watched her go and swore fluently to the ever-growing clouds in the sky. He had only wanted to plant the seed of duty in her, not alienate her completely. To his right, his black horse, Ebony, blew his own disappointment at Rothan.

"I know, I know. I don't want to hear it from the likes of you too," he grumbled kicking the remnants of food from the blanket and packing it in the bag.

The entire ride home was filled with only the sound of hooves beating the ground for she was too angry to cry or even to curse Rothan's royal hide. She stopped at the stables long enough to hand the reins to the lad and then she made her way to the castle where she visited the library. She paced a moment and stared at the decanter of brandy before she poured herself a bit and gulped it down, poured and gulped again. Feeling as though she could breathe fire, she set down the glass and ran up the stairs...she needed some time alone and some air. Perhaps it was a good day to catch Kara and have a chat with her.

Thorne heard her ride in, but hadn't seen her, and the king had not been with her. He smiled a crooked smile...had she pushed him off the cliffs? He could only hope. He had thought she would have been in to see him, to cry out her objections to the king's advances, to declare her undying love for him, to kiss his face and beg him to make wrongs right, but she hadn't come to him. A frown creased his brow and he decided to go find her. Perhaps she was packing her things. He started up the stairs when he heard a familiar door shut. His heart leaped into his throat in panic...she was making for Kara's Place! She had said she would jump if she was forced to go with the king!

Rothan cantered into the bailey holding Aspen's saddle across his lap still fuming about their outing. It was going to be harder than he had thought to get her to see reason, albeit, his reason. He handed Ebony over to the lad and spied Aspen's horse in a stall with a bag of oats. So she was here. He would go find the wench and ball or no, they would be gone. He spun on his heel and a flash of light caught his eye. Using his hand as a shield from the sun, he could make out a figure on the ramparts. His eyes grew wide as he recognized the brown dress, the sun glinting off of his necklace around her neck. He hadn't thought she would really jump, he took it as a bluff she was using to get him to concede. Fear gripped him and he ran across the bailey, through the doors and up the stairs before he realized what he was doing...He had not run since his childhood!

The two men met in the hallway at the secret door eyeing each other with hatred.

"Aspen is going to jump to her death! We need to get to the battlements before we find her in the rocks below!" the king rushed out of breath.

"Do you not see now? She does not belong with you. If it matters not to you of her happiness and only your own, I would have her jump," Thorne lied, though touched by the state of panic the king was in. He really did love her, but not near as much as he.

"She mustn't jump! I do not want the responsibility of her death on my shoulders. If she would rather die than be with me, I will renounce our engagement. If she will still take breath I will allow her to stay. I wish not for her to die, but I had wished for her to make me happy as well. I...I envy you, my lord."

"Kara! Please show yourself! I need to talk with you!" Aspen screamed turning in circles until her hands fell on the jagged tooth stones of the wall. They were warm beneath her hands, but rough from the beatings of the weather. She stared down below her and imagined Kara's tiny body lying there and wondered how she felt as she was thrown down to her death. Did she die as she hit the rocks, or did she lay there in agony for some time? No, she couldn't jump. She would rather hide. She could hide in her room and have Thorne sneak her food and leave a note that she was running away. That would lead Rothan away from the castle in her pursuit. Yes, that sounded much more appealing than ending her life to spite a man.

The door burst open behind her making her gasp and spin around half expecting to see Kara's ghost walking around before her, but instead was Rothan, his chest heaving from the physical stress of climbing the stairs.

Aspen backed away from him. God, she was so close to the edge! He needed to grasp her arm to keep her from falling! Rothan lunged toward her frantically reaching for a part of her. She stepped back and landed on the hem of her gown. Back she fell and passed through the opening between the jagged stones. She heard Rothan scream in terror as she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet and a feeling of being suspended in the air came over her a moment before all gave way and her stomach lurched and she began to fall. A scream escaped her and the air felt cold on her legs when she suddenly came to a halt. She heard a ripping sound and saw that her skirt had found a flaw to hang up on. Desperately, she felt the wall of the castle for a way to hang on when a hand came down to where she could almost grasp it. It belonged to Rothan.

"Take my hand, Aspen!" he called down to her.

"I'll not go with you!" she called back.

"I do not wish for that to happen any longer, just take my hand!" he nearly screamed. Dear Lord, her dress was giving way and then she would fall to her eternity!

"Neither do I wish to be found out of your favor, your majesty!" she added as another tear made her fall another bit.

"You will never be found to be out of my favor, my love! Please take my hand! You do not have much time!"

Aspen reached up as far as she could and still could not reach his fingers so laden with rings.

"I cannot reach you!" she cried. The tears fell fast and furiously as she struggled to grip him and failed each time. The tears fell harder when his hand disappeared from her sight. Again her dress tore dropping her a bit more. This was it. She had fought to live since she came to this place to be facing her end here, hanging from the side of the castle wall by her skirts. Reachable by none, she was too far down yet too high up to fall safely.

"Aspen, take my hand!" she heard a familiar voice thunder in the wind. She looked up to find Thorne leaning over the edge so close he was that she could touch him.

"Thorne!" she breathed in relief. He was there once again to save her, to make things right again. She stretched as far as she could and he grabbed her securely and began to pull her up. She stared at the rocks below as they grew more distant and her blood began to warm again. Once again, with feet planted firmly on the ground, she threw herself into the strong arms that rescued her from Kara's fate. Rothan hung his head and took his defeat slinking into the dark passageway. He cast a glance back at them to find their lips joined, arms entwined, the wind blowing her hair free of its hold and her torn skirt ruffling wildly. He was defeated and he hurt in numerous places that were foreign to him. His eyes burned with tears, his chest ached with an emptiness only she could fill. Once again, he was a shell. What life she had restored in him, was gone once again. She would marry the earl and mayhap one day she would be widowed and would marry him then. He would pay a family to move this way to watch out for her and alert him if things became ugly. And the St. Michael issue did not sit well with him either.

Thorne kissed her entire face and took his time in staring at her. She had never looked more beautiful to him despite her hair being askew and the dried trails of tears on her cheeks.

"I didn't think you would really jump," he whispered.

Aspen glanced around to find them alone. "I needed some time to think, but I was not going to jump. I had, in fact, come up with a much better plan to save us when he burst through the door and came at me. I backed away from him and tripped on my dress. It was all an accident, I swear to you. I had wanted to jump all the ride home, but I took one look down and decided I didn't want to die that way."

"I am so glad I could reach you, for the king has given us his blessing. We will be wed this night. I do not want to take any chances that we may never be together. Let's just have it done and over and begin our life together. If all goes well inside, Sara should have your bath prepared now. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"What do you possibly mean, Thorne?"

"I mean, are you sure you wish to wed me or did your alternative plan include going with the king?" he asked gingerly. "If you do desire to go with him..."

Aspen shut his babbling by kissing him. "Do you really think I wish for that? My home is here...my place is at your side. I desire to be your wife, no one else's."

His smile melted her like butter on warm bread. He was pleased by her affections. He took her hand and led her to her room where, true to his word, there was a bath waiting for her with steam curling up from the water filled with rose petals and oils.

"Your escort will be here just after dark. Be ready," Thorne whispered and kissed the palm of her hand, never taking his eyes from hers.

Aspen's knees felt weak and wobbly as apple jelly and she nearly pushed him from the room to compose herself. "I will be ready," she whispered back to him and shut her door.

She walked to the tub and Sara entered to help her with her dress.

"I've got yer other dress washin'," she explained.

"Thank you, Sara. This is all so exciting and unnerving at the same time!" she breathed, stepping into the tub. "This feels heavenly!"

Thorne rapped on the door belonging to Rothan. A man opened it, one of his many servants, Thorne assumed.

"Yes, my lord?" he greeted.

"I need to speak with his majesty immediately," Thorne said in a commanding tone, which he hoped had worked.

The man sniffed, a sign he was being snubbed, and closed the door. Thorne was about to knock the damn door in when the door opened again. The servant bowed low and swept his arm in a welcoming gesture. Thorne stepped over the threshold and stopped making a point to sniff back at the haughty man. In an unspoken apology, the man cleared his throat. Thorne entered the room and marveled at the transformation. It appeared as though the king had never left his own castle. Thorne saw Rothan sitting on a plush sofa of white with his back to him.

"What is it you want now, my lord?" Rothan bellowed. "Come to gloat over tricking me out of any love I may feel for the girl?"

"Tricked you? How do you figure that, your majesty?" Thorne answered.

"Come!" the king ordered holding out his ringed hand. Thorne went to him and knelt to kiss his ring.

"Please, take a seat if you'd like," the king said casually.

Thorne sat in a golden chair across from his king. "I do not see how I tricked you. That was never my intention, your majesty," he began. "I came to speak with you of the secrecy of my union this eve with Aspen. I know this is not an easy time for you for obvious reasons I do not wish to hash out with you, but I do not trust most in my staff to witness the occasion and not talk about it. You and I do agree on one thing...that she must remain out of St. Michael's hands. I would not ask this of you if I had any other alternative. I need you to witness my marriage and keep it between only us. It is the only way."

"Surely, you must have another you can ask."

"There is one man I would ask, but with the threat of Rosehill, he must remain on the wall this night. I implore you, sire, please for Aspen's sake and safety."

"Very well," he grunted.

"I will go to the place I have chosen, which is a secret as well. The driver knows where to drop the two of you and from there, simply follow the lights. The driver knows nothing more than you and Aspen will go for an outing. The two of you will disappear to him through the trees. He will not know what has transpired. If you would go to her room and fetch her after dark, she will be expecting you."

"Very well," he grunted again.

"I am very sorry about striking you today. I felt as though I were about to lose the only thing that has ever mattered to me, and you were the one taking it. I do not want to be fallen out of your favor, your majesty. I am so proud you are here in my home," Thorne sincerely apologized.

Rothan raised his head to stare into this man's eyes and found truth shining back at him. "I accept your apology because you are a man of honor, Thorne Darktower. You have not fallen from my favor, son. My greed consumed me. It has been long since I have felt pure joy just to hold someone in my gaze. I felt that with her. I could give her so much, but I could never buy her happiness. She has given me her loyalty and her compassion...I will give her happiness in her marriage to you. However, if one tear escapes her eye on your account, I will beat you sound and string you up in the gallows," he added with a playful grin.

Thorne stood and bowed his departure. He had so much to finish.

The knock on her door told Aspen that the escort was there to take her to Thorne. She opened the door not sure what to expect. There, Rothan was smiling at her as though he were about to wed her.

"Are you ready, my dear?" he asked.

Aspen let a smile play across her lips. "Aye," she answered.

She let her hand rest upon his, her gift for her husband in her other hand.

"I would like to say good night to Mira, if you do not mind, sire," she said.

"Of course, the night is all about you, you know," he answered.

Aspen knocked softly and entered Mira's room.

"Mum!" she cried. She looked a bit embarrassed at her error, but Aspen laughed openly. She liked the sound of that.

"Hello, darling!" she said hugging her close.

"Have you come to brush my hair a hundred times and tell stories?" she asked excitedly.

"Nay, dear heart, I am going on an outing for a bit. I wanted to say good night before you fell asleep. Now, get beneath your blanket so I can tuck it!" she played.

Mira's head dropped a notch as she slid beneath the covers. "I haven't seen you in days, it seems. When will we tell stories and such? It seems as though all I do is study and sleep. I miss you and Thorne," she complained.

"With all of our guests, I have been very busy. I miss you dreadfully. Soon, though, things will be aright again and not so hectic. Mayhap tomorrow...nay, it is the ball. The next day belongs to you, Mira. No studies, no chores, you pick the fun. How is that?"

"I hope you don't forget," she said with a gleam in her eyes.

"Don't let me," Aspen said kissing her forehead and snuffing out the candle at her bedside.

"Mum?"

"Yes, Mira?"

"You look more beautiful tonight than ever," she said with a yawn.

Aspen smiled into the darkness. "Thank you, my dear."

Rothan had spied and heard and saw everything. It was a touching and tender scene, which made him pity his own sons who were nearly grown now. Not once had he tucked them in. He had done short of nothing with them at all but worst of all, he had denied them a mother's touch. He didn't know it was so important. Guilt washed over him. Perhaps that was where he had failed his sons.

"Okay, I am ready now," she whispered and they started for the door.

After they were far enough away from Mira's room to speak, Rothan became curious.

"That child in there loves you," he said.

"Yes, and I love her. I am glad she is here with me."

"Is she really your child?"

"Nay, we are but caring for her. We took her out of a black life and gave her something to look forward to each day," Aspen said.

"So then, why did she call you her mother?" he made his point.

Aspen smiled. "Her mother beat her as my father beat me. I took her from that in the last weeks...her life has been good. A child needs someone to call 'mother'. I would rather it was me than a governess. It touches me and makes me feel warm that she trusts me enough to title me her mother."

A second wave of guilt hit him. He decided to have a council with his sons when he returned and apologize for his lack of being a parent to them. He only hoped that it would help things between them. He was on his own for Aspen would not be joining him as his buffer. No, he would steam his own wrinkles from his life without her help.

The carriage was waiting and John held the door open and offered his hand of assistance. When the door was shut and the wheels turning did Aspen wonder if she were doing the right thing in not going with Rothan.

"You know, my lady, in Farrin we have the ocean too. We have trees lining all the lanes and sleighs that jingle in the winter. It is not just about providing for you, but I love what is in your heart. We have a last chance to escape, to change our minds...do you still wish to marry Darktower?"

Aspen would have been surprised if the subject had not come up. When asked again, it put things into perspective for her. "Aye, your majesty, I do wish to remain here and marry Thorne."

"Very well, but would you remember me if ever you find yourself widowed and alone in the world? Will you think of me sometimes and wonder what I am eating for the evening meal? Will you pray for me that I may repair damaged done to my children upon my return? And finally, will you please be the only one in the territory who calls me Rothan?" he asked with a somber note in his voice.

Pity for him nearly blew her from her seat. He was a lonely man with a mountain of problems and no solutions on his shoulders. She swallowed hard on the lump forming in her throat. "I will, Rothan," she said thickly.

A moment later, she heard him sniff and clear his throat and she wondered if he had been crying. The ocean roared closer and it wasn't long before the ride was over. John opened the door and helped her down. She saw tiny lanterns in the sand ahead. Rothan came up behind her resting his hands on her shoulders and whispered, "Just follow the light. I'll be right behind you."

Aspen nodded and began walking down a path of tiny lights, the rest of the scenery to either side of her, dark. She walked with her elbows out, back straight, palms one on top of the other and fingers locked.

Rothan watched her glide away from him, his heart renting in his chest and tears threatening to ruin his composure. He could feel his chin tremble as he watched this treasure he so wanted going back to where she belonged, to whom she belonged. It took all of his strength not to lie down in the dirt and cry his sorrow and his fury out to God, but he managed. He saw her stop on the trail. Could it be that she was changing her mind? Could he be so lucky?

Aspen walked slowly feeling unsure of her footing and feeling silly carrying the brooch in her hand. She passed a bloom of daisies and quickly bundled a bouquet, which she slid the brooch into and tied them together with the fabric that had covered the gift. She thought she heard her name on the wind from someone and a chill raced up her spine. She was lingering too long and turned once again to walking the path.

He was not so lucky. Darkly, he moved off the path and into the trees and brush.

Aspen could hear water running close and when she began to think the path went on forever, she stepped into a clearing of grass soft as feathers, blowing gently in the breeze, trees surrounding the cove and an enormous waterfall fell from the cliffs above into a pool which formed a stream that, no doubt, fed the ocean. Father Goodson was there holding his bible.

"Good eve, my lady. You may be the most beautiful creature God made this night," the Father called to her. A smile brightened her face and Thorne stepped from behind a tree into the moonlight and the glow of the lamps. He was magnificent once again.

He wore white, not black, a white tunic that laced in the front and laces gathered his sleeves at his wrists. It was long to his knees and she could see white hose end in white leather boots. His black hair was a stunning contrast and fell loose around his shoulders, his dark eyes full of love for her. She started for him.

At first, he did not believe this woman was his bride. Her dress was beautiful, though decades out of date and he had never seen a bride carry flowers before. It was an appealing addition. She stepped into the night and less out of the lamplight to be illuminated by moonbeams. Her skin grew to be white as snow, the lace on her gown was as soft and feminine as she was, the cloak of lace she wore hid most of the gown from his view, but she sparkled as she moved like a star shooting through the heavens slowly. The crown on her head shone and the soft lace of her headdress softened the darkness of her hair. The breeze blew to ruffle her and prove to him she wasn't an apparition and carried the scent of roses on the air to him. And those daisies, smiling up at him with their innocent yellow faces, symbolizing her own innocence to him. He felt faint and realized he had been holding his breath. Finally, she was at his side where she would remain for the rest of their days. Not at Rothan's side...just his.

"Good eve to you both. Who is to witness this wonderful occasion?" the Father began.

"'Tis I, Father." Rothan boomed stepping out of the darkness, but keeping his distance.

"I acknowledge you, Rothan, King of Elgolan, as a witness. This is to be secret as a protection to her ladyship, Aspen, Baroness of Shadowed Meadow. Do you accept the oath of secrecy, your majesty?"

"Aye, on my life, I do," he stated. Aspen could swear she heard tears in his voice and fought the urge to comfort him. She needed to be married first, comfort later.

"Very well, Thorne Dalen Darktower and Aspen Morjean Tiller, please face each other and repeat your vows of marriage one unto the other as you present your ring which symbolizes a perfect unity for eternity, never to be broken.

"Aspen, with this ring I bind myself to you and place my life and love in your hands, to never be separated from you until the time of death," Thorne said as he slid a warm gold band upon her finger.

She looked at him with moonbeams reflecting in her misty eyes and slid the ring for him upon his finger as she spoke her vow as well. "Though even in death we could never be parted, my love," she whispered.

Her sentiment warmed Thorne's heart and it began to beat solely for her. He believed in her, lived through her.

"With the power gifted to me by God, I pronounce you married as husband and wife, the Earl and Countess of Cliffehaven, may the legacy of the Darktowers continue on. You may seal this contract with a kiss binding you in your honesty here tonight, forever. Kiss your bride, son," he concluded.

Thorne wrapped his arms around her and her arms went around his neck. The scent of daisies invaded their senses as his lips touched hers and a great fire exploded between them. A desire so great overcame them both and for a time the wind did not blow, the water did not crash upon the rocks, the birds did not call, there was no one else there; only the two of them and their future remained.

Rothan could take no more and turned to take his leave. Only then did the tears fall and grief overtook him completely. He was unsure if he would be able to remain for the rest of his visit.

*******

In a cottage in Rosehill, Debrin's screams of labor penetrated the walls. If she had known the great pain Rayven had impregnated in her, she would have told him to shove off. But now here she was, enduring the pain alone with only a midwife to wipe her brow. She could feel the babe descending...it wouldn't be long now. In her mind, she could hear the words of love from Rayven as he held his son in his arms and finally accepted her as his mate.

"Push down, Debrin! The babe is here!" the midwife ordered.

Debrin was all for ending the pain and would push with all her might to expel this child from her womb.

"Once more!"

The pressure was gone from her, the pain only a dull throb. She let her head fall back as the midwife smacked the baby on the bottom inspiring a wail to come from it's lungs.

"It seems you have a healthy baby girl, Debrin."

Debrin stared at the tiny creature. Nay, she was carrying a son!

"You are lying!" she screamed. She began to cry. "No, I carried Rayven a son...I could feel it!"

"Will you not care for your child?" the midwife asked her. "Will you not give her a name?"

She knew that regardless of the fact of whether or not she kept the girl, Rayven would dismiss her. Nay, she would take the girl and the money she would be given by the St. Michaels and become a force not to be reckoned with. Perhaps when a certain little peasant was no longer a threat to her, would Rayven see the light and take her into his family.

"Her name will be Bettany, the daughter of Rayven St. Michael. I will make certain he knows she is alive and very much his child," she vowed.

Not wanting to be involved, the midwife turned the baby over to her half-cracked mother and cleaned up the mess of childbirth.

*******

The air was sweet and the twitter of the birds calling their good nights soothed the two lovers who were now husband and wife.

Thorne could barely contain his desire for his new bride. He took her ringed hand and kissed it.

"I have something for you," Aspen breathed.

Thorne smiled a lusty smile. "I have something for you too," he said huskily.

Aspen blushed even in the pale light and she bowed her head. From inside the flowers she pulled the brooch and held it out to him in the palm of her hand. "To forever..." she said as he took it and admired the detail of his family crest.

He looked to her. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

"It is a story and there are better times for stories than on one's wedding night," she smiled at him shyly.

"I do have a gift for you as well. Come here with me," he nearly whispered pulling her behind him.

Aspen's heart hammered in her chest. Now that it was time, she was not sure about all the marriage bed business and she hesitated a bit.

Thorne stopped and turned to her. "I'll not hurt you, I swear on my dearly departed mother, I won't. Do you know what happens between a man and a woman?"

Aspen's memory flicked back to countless nights when her father would take her mother fully clothed and brutally. A shudder stole through her and she nodded. "Aye. I know that once a woman is bound to a man, her body belongs to him and he can do with it whatever he wishes. No matter how she feels," she ended in a haunted whisper. Had a man tried to take her before and ruined her?

A ripple of uneasiness washed over him and he put his finger under her chin to see into the windows of her soul. All he found was fear. "Has a man ruined you? Did he take you against your wishes?"

Aspen shook her head, tears brimming in those eyes of hers. "I have seen my parents. My father was not very nice to my mother. Seeing that ruined me."

Thorne sighed in relief. "You have no need to fear me, darling. I want it to be as beautiful for you as it will be for me. I love you so."

He pulled her into his embrace until he felt her trembling cease. Only then did he guide her to his destination.

Next to the pool of water grew a willow tree whose branches grew up and fell over to sweep the ground. Thorne parted the branches and led her within. He bent and lit a lantern bringing to life a place that surely only fairies frequented. Blankets lay over the ground and pillows were propped against the trunk of the mighty tree. It was a warm night with a gentle breeze occasionally rustling the branches methodically. Trays of fruit and cheese and meats were spread across the bed. And there in the middle of the bed lay a parcel wrapped in a cloth of red. Thorne bent to retrieve it handing it to her.

"This gift pales in comparison to yours, however, I thought it was almost as beautiful as you are. I'll be just outside for a moment," he said.

Once she was alone, she carefully unwrapped the gift. In her hands, she held the softest, whitest silk she had ever felt. It was so light and she shook it out to find it was a nightdress fit for a queen. As quickly as she could manage, she shed her wedding gown and donned this masterpiece.

It was voluminous everywhere from her neck to her feet. Ribbons at the neckline pulled to gather the fabric at her chest and from there the ribbons crisscrossed between her breasts to tie around her waist. There were the same pink ribbons at her wrists that pulled to form ruffles that hung over her hands, making the sleeves full and comfortable.

Thorne called from outside the shelter. "May I enter?"

Aspen took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Aye," she called back to him.

He stepped inside again with a bottle of wine, which nearly fell from his hands when he beheld his breathtaking wife. She was so innocent, yet so corrupted by her life. She was all softness and light, goodness and purity. She was his.

He motioned to the bed and opened the wine pouring her a cup to ease her nerves.

"This bottle of wine was put down the year I was born to be saved until my wedding day," he explained.

"That is a wonderful tradition. It should be good for drinking then, eh?" she smiled.

Thorne feigned a pain in his heart. "Do you say that I am old, darling?"

Aspen laughed. "Nay, just well aged, darling."

The two of them laughed and sipped wine, which was really a very good wine, and fed each other fruit and cheese. Upon sipping the second glass, there were a few kisses and Thorne held a slice of apple between his teeth suggesting she share a bit of it. She took the bait and pressed her mouth against his biting down on the apple. Once she had swallowed, she flicked her gaze to his and found a fire blazing desire in the deep depths of his eyes. She was overcome with love and a want of her own and she pulled him to her, touching her mouth to his again. She grew breathless as he groaned in pleasure and he deepened the kiss. He felt good against her...like they were meant for each other and her hesitation left her with a passion she knew not how to control. A heat like none other she had ever felt burned in her belly and spread through her like brandy on a cold day. Thorne pressed his tongue against her lips and she opened her mouth for him inviting his tongue to dance with hers. He encouraged her to lie down upon the pillows and he lowered himself atop her, never breaking their connection. He pressed himself against her belly so she could feel him and his hand wandered to find her breast. Shock knocked her breath from her at his touch and her nipple became taut beneath his fingers and she moaned to regain her breathing. Thorne was so pleased at her reaction that he was close to losing all control. How terrible a thing it would be to spill his seed in his breeches and not in her lovely body. He shuddered at the thought of being inside her...he wanted it so badly. But he must be slow with her...he must be a gentleman. He needed to prove to her that not all men were scoundrels like her father.

He tore his lips from hers just long enough to shed his tunic and as he was pulling it over his head, Aspen pulled the laces of his breeches loose and they slipped enough for her to glimpse that he was stiff as a board. For a moment she looked afraid until he had divested himself of his pants and was able to pull her gaze to his own and then the passion returned. He pulled the ribbon at her waist and was able to free her of the fabric keeping her from him. The feel of her naked beneath him made him hurt for he was trying to keep himself steady and not frighten her, but his need was clouding his thought. His mouth found hers in a frenzy that none other lover had ever known in all of the world. His head dipped to her breasts and her hands fisted in his hair when his mouth closed on a nipple and she stifled a cry of pleasure with a gasp of surprise. She found that her hips began to move to the music her body was playing with his and she found she wanted more. More of what she did not know...she wanted to quench the fire inside her and at the same time did not.

The feel of her in his mouth made him want to shatter to pieces with the seductiveness of it. Her nipples were hard and relished his touch. He felt he was torturing himself to all end. She gripped his hair to pull him back to her mouth and his sex against hers sending waves of lust through his body. His breathing came hard and fast and he wanted so badly to delve into her virginity. He let his hand wander again to cup her bottom and then around to rest on her womanhood. Her curls were soft as down on a goose and his fingers pressed into her to find her more than ready for him. She was warm and moist and he let a finger slip inside of her and heard her gasp quietly.

He moaned into her mouth and positioned himself for their union. He pushed ever so gently and her body allowed him entry. Her hands were all over his back running over the muscle and sinew, her mouth kissing his neck and shoulders and again finding his mouth.

"A small hurt here is normal, my love," he said breathlessly. "Look at me, I want to see your eyes at this moment."

She opened her eyes and he pushed himself deep into her. She gave a gasp of pain and he stilled, but the love was still there in her eyes and he knew she was all right and so resumed his movement in and out of her, stroking her to climb the same mountain of pleasure as he. "I love you, Aspen," he whispered and took her mouth once again.

Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he nearly fainted with it all. He needed a change for he so wanted her to climax before he did, but at this rate he would lose it and spoil the night for her. He grabbed her hips and heaved to the side to bring her atop him. She gave a squeal of delight and shook her hair free of its pins to fall down her back in luscious waves.

Sitting there above him, her breasts were firm and a perfect fit for his hands. He squeezed and pinched her nipples playfully watching her squirm as her pleasure mounted. He pressed on her back to lower her breasts to his mouth and he resumed his rocking, one hand on her rear to keep her from moving away from him before she got her just rewards. She kissed the top of his head and muttered his name until she began kissing his mouth once again with reckless abandon. He quickened his pace knowing she was very close and slipped a finger between them to find that magical place every woman possessed. Her reaction was nearly instantaneous and her body convulsed and she collapsed onto his chest, her breathing rapid, and her heartbeat furious. It was enough to push him beyond the brink ecstasy and he let himself go, taking her with him wrapped in his arms.

When the tree appeared once again and the waterfall was spilling into the pool outside and reality surrounded them, Aspen opened her eyes and propped herself up looking at her husband's face.

"I love you, Thorne. I don't think I do, I know I do," she said.

Thorne rubbed her back with his hands and grinned. "I have never been happier in all my life," he answered.

Aspen removed herself from him and searched for her nightdress. Thorne grabbed her wrist and kissed her palm.

"I am going for a dip in the water, care to join me?" he asked.

"Out there for all eyes to see? With nothing on but our skin?" she exclaimed.

"Of course! You don't bathe with your clothes on, do you? Nay, I know you do not for I recall seeing you more than once quite naked," he smiled, pulled her to stand and pressed her against him.

She began to shield herself as they passed into the night and Thorne took both her hands in his and they walked to the pool. The water was warm as they stepped in and waded to their waists, Thorne swam in the liquid moonlight, but Aspen was stuck as memories of waves crashing down upon her clouded her sight. She began to climb out.

"Aspen! Come on... swim to me!" Thorne bellowed seeing her plight.

"I cannot!" she hollered back.

"I will let nothing happen to you, I swear," he soothed.

She shook and trembled, but Thorne swam closer to her and it didn't seem so far anymore. She pushed off with her feet and moved her arms hoping she would not sink. She felt Thorne's hands and grabbed at them madly until he pulled her within his strength and raised her up out of the water suckling her breasts again, her legs clasping him around his waist. She could feel him awaken and stiffen in response and she kissed his mouth long and hard as they shared their passion there in the moonlight with God as a witness of their love.

### Chapter 13

Aspen woke some time later beside her new husband, the lantern beginning to flicker, casting Thorne in devilish shadows. He looked at peace with the world for the first time since she had been with him. She moved her eyes from his finely chiseled face to his sculpted body, studied him thoroughly and then her gaze fell upon his leg, marred and disfigured when he was so young. Seeing it for the first time surprised her. She knew his handicap was there, but it had always just been a part of him. She hardly noticed his limp anymore. It was simply Thorne.

"Pretty horrid, isn't it?" he asked her, staring from beneath his lashes.

Aspen started with a gasp. "I feel badly for you, for the pain you must have endured, but it is a small flaw in the entire package I love so very much," she said with sincerity.

Her words warmed him from head to toe. He had dreaded this day because in his own mind, this burden he harbored made him a little less of a person. But to his wife, he was the same...it bothered her not. He smiled gently at her and reached up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I love you even more, wife," he whispered.

The lantern danced wildly, threatening to leave them in darkness. The spell was broken; it was time to return to his home...no, it was their home now.

"It is time to leave before more questions are raised than we can answer. We will ride my horse back, for I am sure the king has not waited for you to return to him after an evening of love making with your new husband," he said. Aspen knew he was right.

"What of our things?" she asked not wanting anything to happen to her nightdress.

"I will clean this up in the morn after a good sleep. All will be safe. I cannot explain to gossiping staff members where all of this came from and we are trying to keep this to ourselves for the time being, remember?" he said.

She answered with a small smile and with his help, she dressed back in her wedding dress.

"Where ever did you find this treasure?" he asked as he tied the laces up her back.

"I wanted to show you earlier, before I went riding, but it wasn't the right time," she began over her shoulder. "I do believe this gown was your mother's the day she was wed to your father."

Thorne's heart stopped. "How do you know this?" he asked anxiously.

"I found her secret place, quite by accident, but her place nonetheless. That is where I found the brooch. I am sure she would want you to have it. When all the excitement dies down, I will take you there. I also have her record book that I wanted to read...with your permission, of course. I believe she was an amazing woman."

"I do too," he finished and took her hand leading her to his stallion.

They rode out of the trees to the road and as they had suspected, the king was not there. Thorne spurred his beast toward the castle, Aspen enjoying the soft breeze of summer on her face. The moon shone brightly in the sky and uncountable stars winked at them. All of nature seemed to sigh after them, happy that they were together at last.

The gates were still open and Cappy waved them inside from atop his wall of defense. Aspen could hear the metal grind as the gates were lowered after them. They stopped at the stables and Thorne threw the reins to the lad who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and swung off of his beast to help Aspen down.

"I take it the king has returned," Thorne remarked nodding toward the carriage.

"Aye, my lord, he rode in wiffout her ladyship there sayin' he was tired. I asked him where she was and he said she was wiff you, my lord," the boy explained.

Thorne clapped him on the back and the boy looked to almost be crushed under Thorne's hand. With Thorne's help, she slid effortlessly to the ground and they walked to the front doors hand in hand.

Thorne knew she had to be tired so he quickly escorted her to her chamber.

"You will have a big day on the morrow, darling. You must get some rest. I am sure the king's staff will be asking for your help with the preparations of the ball. I have already told them that you are to be treated as the lady of the house, us being engaged and all," he smiled a sly smile.

"I am not sure what they would need me to do...I've never planned a ball before," she said.

"I know there will be families, noble families, from all over Elgolan to be present. I will leave a map of the grounds and mark places for them to camp. The St. Michaels, of course, never answered their invitation. It surprises me not. You will need to be stunning all day, so no matter how hard you may want to, please refrain from hard labor. No garden work, no setting up the families' tents...nothing but giving orders and making sure they are getting done. Are we clear?" he said kissing her.

"Very," she purred and kissed him back.

He opened her door to find Sara asleep in the chair by the fire, a bath prepared and still steaming in the firelight.

"Good night, darling," he whispered as to not wake Sara up.

"Good night."

He left her in her doorway to go to his own room for a night of no rest for him. He would be tossing in his sheets the rest of the night reflecting back on a marvelous evening with his wife.

Aspen took her slippers off to avoid waking her maid and managed to get out of her gown and into the water when Sara awoke to the sound of the water.

"I am sorry, my lady. I didn't hear you enter," she apologized.

"I will be quick for I am tired. When the water is drained and the tub gone, you may take your leave," Aspen said.

"May I offer an idea, my lady?" Sara asked.

"Of course," Aspen smiled at her yawn and stretch.

"Well, you will be up in but a few hours, might we empty the tub and leave it for the morn?"

"Very well, that will be fine this time."

Aspen soaped up and rinsed herself, got out of the tub and into the blanket Sara held for her from the hearth. She dried and slipped into her plain, simple nightdress and then beneath her blankets. She thought she would never be able to sleep, but sleep claimed her regardless.

The dawn brought new promise with the new day as Aspen and Thorne happily, but secretly, began their new life. She was the Countess now and had better learn to be one.

After bathing and dressing in the gown she had met the king in, after Sara had piled her hair upon her head beautifully and adorned the king's jewelry did she venture out to see what preparations needed to be done. Most of the castle was still in slumber, but she walked around eyeing the great hall and the ballroom and surveyed the gardens, which were still very much in need of attention. They had been worked on a bit before the king's arrival, but Aspen knew they could be so much better. She stole to the hall for a morsel to break her fast and it wasn't long before the king's party filtered in to eat as well. Immediately after, she was bombarded with questions and suggestions, some of which she knew not what to say to them. What colors did she think would compliment the castle, did she wish to use the Darktower signature colors, what foods did she think would suit the people best, where did she want the flowers to sit and what flowers did she like...many more of these were thrown at her almost at once. He hands flew to the air in a gesture to be quiet and all was quiet.

"Please sit down!" she nearly screamed at them. "I wish to answer one question at a time. I had thought that because this was the king's affair, that you would all be planning and executing. Since none has been done, I will do my best to help you. However, do not descend all of your questions and problems on me at the same time. I wish for this to be a success for both parties involved. Come to me with your suggestions and together we will plan an evening to be remembered. I will meet with you individually in the library. We must be quick for families will be arriving soon!"

She turned on her heel and left the hall for the library. This was going to be a day filled with challenges.

She met with each man and woman on the two staff lists. She found out each one's strengths and talents and gave orders accordingly. There was a group to arrange flowers, and one to hang tapestries and banners. There was a group to manicure the gardens and one to see to the planning and preparation of food. Musicians were to be hired and entertainment was to be found and when at last she could breathe a sigh of accomplishment, the first of the families had started to arrive. She was summoned to the great doors of the castle to greet the governing Baron of Glendella's Glade. The young squire of Thorne's informed her of the name and rank of the visiting family.

She let a warm smile light her face as she rounded the corner of the entry hall where a tall man stood in the sunlight of the open door. The stones had a shine to them as did his boots, leggings the color of soft, young wood clung to his legs where they met his tunic of a muted green...the color of the ocean on an almost sunny day, laced over his chest with leather ties. His graying hair was long and free topped with a grand hat of brown leather and a peacock's tail feather. He was impressive to behold.

"My Lord!" she greeted as though they were old friends, "Welcome to Cliffehaven. On the behalf of my betrothed, Lord Darktower, I welcome you."

The Baron smiled taken off his guard by this accommodating beauty in a gown as red as wine. His eyes brightened and his nerves eased, then he caught a glimpse of a ring...a very special ring.

"My lady, 'tis grand to meet you. My family and I have just arrived. I am Baron of Glendella's Glade, Lord Ivan Wood," he kissed the back of her hand. "Is this what I think it is, my lady? Is this a Ring of Favour?"

"Aye, my Lord Wood, that it is," she answered feeling a bit uncomfortable talking about it.

"How lucky you are to possess it," he smiled a crooked smile of jealousy.

Aspen cleared her throat and turned her attentions to the map of the grounds. She gave him directions to where they could camp and pitch their noble tents and bid him good day.

Aspen could barely do anything the rest of the afternoon besides greet strangers and endure the stares and stories forming in their minds. She could see the lot of them visiting other tents and talking behind their hands about her, her ring, and her stay at the castle with no chaperone.

She was searching for a moment of peace in Thorne's study before the midday meal when she nearly ran straight into a woman running down the corridor with her hands over her face crying, her bodice in tatters, her hair askew. Aspen let a yelp of surprise, as did the woman.

"Pardon me, madam," Aspen said grasping her shoulders. "Do you work in this household? What has happened? You must tell me! Come in here with me and talk. Mayhap I can help you."

The woman allowed herself to be led into the study crying on the point of hysterics and sat down on a sofa as Aspen closed the door. She rushed back to the woman's side and pulled trembling hands from a tear-streaked face. The woman's eyes were blue as cornflowers and bloodshot from her sorrows. She had long beautiful lashes that were matted into spikes with tears. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing uneven succumbing in the end to hiccups and sniffles. She had flaxen hair the color of sunbeams that had once been fashioned into a chignon but now hung loose in places and stuck out in others. Aspen rubbed her fingers gingerly as she waited for her to feel like revealing her terrors.

The woman looked to Aspen silently pleading for secrecy. "If you will speak to me, I will tell no one unless you tell me I may," she reassured.

The woman stared at the floor and her head bowed slightly in shame. "I do work for ye, my lady. Have for near six years now. Ne'er, ne'er in the time I have been here has I been so ashamed." The tears began to well behind her lids and Aspen patted her encouragingly. She could feel the trembling ease.

"Please go on, I am sure you should not feel ashamed of anything. I only need to know what is going on so I may fix it. I want to fix it. Start with your name and position."

"I am Aura. Mostly I clean linens, but wi' the king here and all, I was told to clean 'is rooms and put out linens for 'im while 'e's here." A fresh bout of hysterics followed and Aspen began to feel a sickening knot form in her belly. Aura took a deep breath and continued, "I was cleanin' in there this morn and he told me to go to 'im. I did as I was told, my lady," she said looking Aspen in the eyes as a lonely tear floated down her cheek, a cheek Aspen noticed that sported a light bruise beneath the redness of panic.

"What happened next, Aura?" Aspen urged fighting a tightness in her throat.

"He grabbed me arm and pulled me to 'is bed. He was wearing naught but 'is suit o' skin under his sheet. He tore me dress and stuck 'is fat hand inside."

"Did he touch your breast?" Aspen asked feeling her anger rise.

"Aye," Aura nearly whispered trying to stifle more crying. "And then, he tore it more an' put 'is mouth on it. I cried and cried and he sucked harder and bit me sayin' I should be honored he wanted me. Then he flipped up me skirts and touched me 'ere," she said shyly pointing to her woman's place.

"Did he take you? Did he rape you?" Aspen demanded tears of her own shining in her eyes.

"Nay, I screamed loud as I could an' he slapped me on the face an' told me I was unworthy of 'im and to ne'er come back for he'd beat me sound if he e'er saw me face again," she finished bringing her hands back to her face and sobs racked her body. Aspen drew Aura into her embrace and rubbed her back letting her cry. Aspen wanted to be sick. Rothan would pay dearly for this.

The door of the study opened and Thorne was inside before he knew what he would encounter. He found Aura, a laundry worker crying in his wife's arms.

"Pardon, ladies," he began, "but what the devil is going on?"

Aspen threw him a scourging look and he quieted. A few more moments passed before the crying subsided and he handed the poor girl a cloth for her face and nose. She wiped away the tears and blew her nose.

"Aura, what has happened to you needs to be addressed. May I tell his lordship what he needs to know? Not everything, but he needs to take care of it. May I?" she asked.

Aura looked to Aspen and then to Thorne and fear descended upon her features.

"Nothing bad will happen to you. I will send the most ugly wretch I can find to serve him if I send anyone at all. He has not the right to do this at all."

She nodded her agreement. True to her word, Aspen only revealed what Thorne needed to know to get his blood to a boil. He pounded the desk with his fist and his jaw locked shut, the muscles in his face pulsing madly. Aura cried again.

"Aura," Aspen began calmly, "I knew his lordship would be angry with the king, not with you. We do not employ you to lie in our guest's beds. You did right in telling me. I want you to take the rest of the day and go to bed, I will have the physician come to your bedside and examine you. Actually, take the next couple of days for yourself," she smiled.

"Thank you, my lady, but I can't. I need the coin," she sniffed.

"Don't you worry about that. I will see to it that you receive double your pay for the next three days. I want you to come back to your post ready to work as efficiently as before, understand?"

"Aye, I do. Thank you my lord, my lady."

"You can't go with your dress in shreds, come with me and we will find you something else to wear," Aspen comforted.

Aura felt foolish taking advantage of this woman's kindness, but she really hadn't a choice. Aspen rested her arm about Aura's shoulders and walked her out when she turned to a scowling Thorne and said, "Make certain this does not happen again."

"But three days double pay?" he said with a growl.

"His majesty commits the folly, his majesty owes the price. Make him pay you for his transgression," she growled back and then turned back to her injured soul and left.

Thorne was so angry he wanted to smash the man's blasted head in. What was he thinking? And then a time not so long ago invaded his mind, a time when he had been the same way with his people. The shame of it consumed him, bringing him to his knees and making him sick to his stomach. How could he reprimand a man in a higher station than his when he had been the same way? Nevertheless, it was his home and if he chose to be crude with his own staff, it was his right. That did not make it right, but he had more right than his guest did. There. That would be his point.

Thorne knocked harshly on the king's door, which was answered by the same snob of a doorman.

"I must speak with Rothan now!" he demanded.

The man was unmoved by Thorne's display of authority. "The king is not to be disturbed...by anyone. Go away."

The door began to shut and Thorne drew all of his shame and anger from within him and rammed his shoulder into the door knocking the man backward into a chair that tipped back toppling the snoot on his back, boots in the air, tunic flopped over his hooked nose and his head of hair was seemingly not his own, for it flew across the room to land in the chamber pot. Thorne did not take the time to celebrate his victory for he had much dirtier laundry to hang.

He found Rothan under a pile of blankets and linens snoring the day away, an empty bottle of brandy still clutched in his hand. He stunk to the fair skies above and his mop of sandy hair was an explosion of sweat, making it stand untidily on end. An enormous belch escaped him as he snored loud as a troll in a bedtime story, smelling as vile as a rotten carcass on a hot day. Flies took their turn landing on him until he would twitch andthey would fly away to find another desired location to land. The sight made Thorne pity him...almost.

"I did not invite you into my home as my guest to molest my staff!" he bellowed.

Rothan opened his bloodshot eyes and groaned at him in dismissal.

"You are a miserable sot and I want you to apologize for your lack of judgment! You had no right to lay your hands on anyone in my house, let alone my help! You may do this openly in your keep, but you will not do it in mine! What have you to say?" Thorne demanded.

Rothan rose upon his elbows and laughed. "You seem to forget that I reserve the right to do as I please, my lord."

"Raping a servant of mine does not bode well with me, nor does it bode well with Aspen. Is this what your tantrum is about? Aspen? Her respect for you is faltering, I fear. This has put you 'out of _her_ favor' if you will. Is that what you want? She had to send the poor girl to her bed and now you are going to pay for her three days of rest at double the wage. On top of that you will pay for her new dress that we had to find for her. I couldn't exactly send her running through the village with her breasts exposed, now could I? Nor could I let her tell her neighbors what you did to her!"

"You had best watch your tone, Thorne. I do not like it when my lords speak to me so. Aspen will let this go eventually and that girl squealed with delight until I threw her out. She stuck her nipples in my mouth and sat in my lap asking me to stick my willy in her," he sneered.

Thorne wanted to strike the bastard again. He walked toward Rothan with death written upon his face. Thorne almost smiled when the king put up his hands to shield his face. Thorne picked up the empty bottle and threw it at the wall with all his might. Then he spun back to the coward lying helpless in his bed. All became red in his mind and he saw only his anger and the need to punish someone severely.

He was inches from Rothan's face. "Power has corrupted you. Power had corrupted me as well. But life is all the sweeter when you forget the power and listen to the birds sing or the thunder roll or the waves crashing. Sounds that become void to men like you and me. Sounds that we forget to hear as we become deaf to all that is important in life. Today, you violated a woman. The blackness has you around the throat and if you do not fight it off, it will choke any shred of goodness left in you. You will walk through life with a spoiled soul and never recognize when your guardian angel comes to you with her hand extended and hope is offered to you to redeem yourself. I was there. When the blackness leaves you, you find the air clean and your conscience no longer whispers every moment of every day until you feel you will go insane with it. It is the nectar of life, your reason to live. I wish you to depart on the morrow. We will settle the matter of coin as your party is about to leave." He had delivered his message and then took his leave praying for the king as he went. Praying for the future of the territory in the hands of such a man.

Aspen drew a deep breath as she sent Aura on her way with a pink silk gown. She had been so excited about owning such a frock and actually gave Aspen a hug when she took her leave to go to her bed. Rothan still made her head pound and her insides burn just thinking of him. She hoped Thorne was making him pay dearly.

Sara and John busied themselves with filling the round cedar tub in her room so she could prepare herself for the festivities happening in mere hours. Below her, she could hear shouts and commands and musicians tuning their instruments and held out hope that all was well.

The water was warm and inviting even for such a warm day. Aspen relaxed back against the tub and sighed long and deep, releasing the stress of the day. So many things were still foreign to her in running a household and today was a hard way to learn. All in all she felt good about her decisions and plans for the ball. A small part of her was somewhat disappointed for she knew she would not be introduced as the countess of the castle, but as a hopeful in the competition for Thorne's hand. Secrecy was very much the low point of her day. She had been well received by the people of the village, but what of the nobles? How would they accept her? Her heart did a skip of trepidation and she let herself slide under the water to wet her hair.

Sara returned with her gown in hand and laid it upon her bed. Aspen could sense that the sun was fading outside although the shutters were closed. The fire snapped and danced in the approaching evening. Aspen stood and Sara patted her skin dry and helped her slip into her chemise. A knock at the door made both of them jump and Thorne peeked his head inside.

"Oh, good. You are here," he said stepping into the room and closing the door once again. "Sara, I need to have a word with her ladyship. It is quite urgent we talk in private."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him since Aspen was not dressed and he was requesting an audience with her privately. It was not proper, but it was not her place to argue. She looked to Aspen who crossed her arms over her chest and nodded her dismissal. Sara bobbed a curtsy and quietly left the room.

"I have waited all day for this. Just a moment to be with you and only you," he breathed.

Aspen bowed her head and smiled a shy grin, remembering their night together. Thorne closed the distance between them and pulled his wife to him. He slid his finger beneath her chin to gaze into her eyes so green and to lose himself in their depths. The firelight cast an amazing spell of shadows and light that mesmerized them until they closed their eyes on it and their lips joined at once, to provoke the desire that was trapped within. He had meant only to tease her, but the kiss deepened and the two became breathless as their passion rose. Thorne thought he would die from the lust that plagued him and sat himself in the chair by the fireside pulling her to his lap, a leg draped over the arm of the chair and another over his knee. He reached for her breast through the softness of her chemise and found her nipple aroused and his mouth had to feel it, had to run his tongue over it and let his lips savor the taste and texture of her. He broke the kiss to lay her back over the other arm of the chair and his mouth fell to her breast, lips gently caressing and teasing through the fabric and his free hand sliding up the length of her inner thigh until he found what he had hoped. She moaned softly as he let one finger slip into her wetness, a place still tender from the loss of her virginity, however that pain did not compare to the bittersweet pain of arousal. A pain only he could soothe with the pleasure he brought to her. She could not stand it another moment, she could feel the hardness of his want against her hip and she sat upright again to divest herself of the damned chemise. Thorne had thought he was at the height of arousal when out of nowhere she was naked before him and unlacing his britches, freeing him. She knelt on her knees over him and he partook of her breasts of flesh and not fabric, her hands entwined in his hair urging him on. The pain of passion was fast growing unbearable and she sat down on his knees to find his lips once more. Her hips began their seductive rocking and his hands came around to cup her bottom. She brought herself to his manhood and Thorne nearly lost consciousness when she sighed against his mouth as she impaled herself upon him. For a moment, he could not bring himself to let her move lest he would lose control and their time would be spent. Once he had things under control, he lifted her bottom so he could slide into her again. The movement continued until they were both so lost in each other that he was bouncing her and they danced their tongues together to explode at last in tremors of release and many "oh dear lord" sayings were shared between them.

Once reality set in around them again, Aspen wondered with a sly smile if they so enjoyed this time because of the fear of being caught. Mayhap a little, but she hoped they would be this way forever.

They both suddenly became aware that Sara would be returning and they were naked together and smelled of sweat and sex so they climbed back into the cooling waters to wash the evidence from their bodies. Thorne had just pulled his full shirt back over his head when Sara returned eyeing them curiously. Thorne cleared his throat.

"Thank you for your immediate attention to my dilemma," he said taking her hand and kissing it.

"Of course, my lord. I am happy you have brought it to my attention. I will see you in a short while, will I not?" she said trying to sound innocent and figuring she was failing miserably.

"Not a short enough while, my lady. I shall miss your company." His words melted her heart and she fought the urge to throw herself back into his arms and forget about chastity and etiquette as she watched him disappear into the darkness of the dressing room. She heard the click of the secret door and knew he was gone. The room seemed to lose its warmth and she turned to Sara who held the first layer of her gown out for her.

Aspen could hear the hustle and bustle of many bodies in the great hall as she began her descent down the staircase. She had tried to catch Thorne so they could go down together, but he was nowhere to be found. A hush came over the crowd when she came to stand in the doorway. Thorne stood and indicated to her place next to him, the king present on his right.

She was spectacular to behold in the soft pastels of summer. She looked like a flowing bouquet of lilac and roses, a soft lavender gown beneath a rosy pink gown of silk sporting the stylish high waist, the overskirt split under her breasts to allow the soft shade of purple to show through. The entire gown was trimmed in lace so delicate that even fairies would fear ruining it, the sleeves exploded into a puff of pink at the shoulder to fall away at the length of her arms, and tight lavender sleeves beneath that ended in points on the backs of her hands. Pearls and jewels of pink, purple and blue made her sparkle as she moved, and a cape of sheer pink flowed behind her. Her hair had more curl to it than usual; tendrils hung gracefully about her face. The hair at the crown of her head had been fastened with a comb of butterflies in the back leaving the rest of her hair to fall down her back in curls that bounced as she walked to the table. To Thorne, she was the fairest of all and he could feel the king watch her with envy pouring from him. She came to a stop before him and the king, curtsied, kissed the signet, and Thorne kissed her hand. Then he pulled her chair for her and she sat.

She looked out among all the nobles there. It was a much different sight to be confronted with people who were not like her, people above her instead of the poor people of the village. They all stared at her critically, even a few scattered whispers echoed in the room.

Thorne raised his hand for silence. "I welcome you all here this eve! It will be a night to remember, I am sure! Thank you for your travels, I am glad you are all here safe with us. It is a great honor for me to host our king's ball in my home. Please show him your appreciation!" he bellowed being followed by thunderous clapping and the banging of knives on the tables and cheers of "long live the king" filled the room.

When all had died down, he continued, "I also have a very special guest to introduce to you. I know most of you made her acquaintance this morn upon your arrival, however, I would like to introduce to you all, the next Countess of Cliffehaven! Please thank her for the hard work that has been put into your entertainment as you dance and stuff your bellies!" he ended to be followed by a few leery claps and much gossip. Thorne was so disappointed that he could not say they were already married and gain all of the support of the noble community.

Rothan was overcome with nausea at the display of snubbing from these people, men and women alike. He stood and whispered to Thorne and his heavy hand settled the young man back in his seat anger burning in his face.

"I want you all to know that the earl here has made the best choice of his life in this woman. She is his rock, she is his salvation, and she has changed this community of people single-handedly! I so wanted her for myself..." he broke off a moment as his voice faltered. He took a gulp of his ale and finished. "...but God made certain that they were destined for each other." He could see her bosom heaving and craned around to see a mixture of shock and perhaps distrust, so he thought to ease her nerves a bit. "She is one of few people I hold in the highest of esteem and so she wears my Ring of Favour. She will always be found in my favor and I wish to publicly apologize to her for any hurt I may have caused her. However, I am absolutely ashamed that the lot of you blokes feel she is not worthy of your support!" He looked over Thorne's head at her and she looked to him. "You look heavenly this eve, my lady, Baroness of Shadowed Meadow," he added with sentiment.

"Thank you, your majesty," she answered. She looked back out over the people through her tears of conflicting emotions to find more faces of acceptance.

The Baron of Glendella's Glade stood raising his mug of ale. "To the Countess!" he shouted. Many more stood and toasted her as well bringing a beaming smile to her face. Thorne stood and pulled her up beside him kissing her mouth for all to see. The crowd cheered again. The king took her into his embrace and planted his lips upon her forehead. Those who had not joined in support now cheered at the display of affection from their king. It was a sight none had seen since the death of the queen years ago and it touched them. This woman had brought him from his foul moods and had instilled hope in all their hearts. Hope for a better life.

The servers brought out the first course of the evening and placed a trencher of venison stew before each guest. Aspen was hungrier at the sight of the food than she had realized and tore at the bread of her trencher and scooped up bits of meat and vegetables trying to be lady-like in eating before all the noble community. They drank deeply of ale and nibbled on the fruit that had been placed in bowls on each table. Many women from the village poured ale to keep tankards full and the people happy.

The second course consisted of platters of pheasant, turkey, and hens stuffed with bread, onions, potatoes, carrots, rice, and nuts and dripping in bourbon sauces. There was also a pig, a lamb, and various fishes on platters piled high for the men and women to eat their fill. The room was buzzing with chatter and great laughter as mouths were stuffed full and tankards clanked together in wishes of good fortune.

After they were served the last course of fresh summer berries and sweetened cream in flaky pastry crusts, all adjourned to the ballroom. The room was so large it needed two chandeliers full of one hundred candles each to light it, and with the help of numerous candelabras and chamber sticks, the room glowed festively. There were fresh cut daisies in baskets and roses in urns set upon the tables that lined the room. Lilacs and nasturtiums filled bowls that were suspended from hooks on the walls. Pitchers of ale and plates of dried meats and some cheeses cluttered the tables further. People fitted themselves with masks decorated lavishly with feathers and jewels to coordinate with their formal garments. Along the far wall, the musicians were tuning their instruments awaiting the festivities and the fools were adorning their brightly colored headdresses for the night's entertainment.

Thorne handed Aspen her mask made with the love of Chloe and tied his own around his head. He was dressed in black leggings, shiny black boots, a black velvet tunic that passed his knees and laced at the chest, and a black silk shirt that gathered at the wrists leaving a long ruffle to nearly cover his hands. Aspen could spy the hair on his chest through the laces and fought the urge to reach out and touch it. He wore the cape he had worn the day she met him...black on the outside, red beneath, and his hair was tied at his nape with leather laces. Add the mask of black feathers and rubies that hid his eyes from her, and he was spectacular to behold.

She held her mask in her hands and stared at it a moment. It was attached to a rod like unto an arrow's shaft and what appeared to be a bird's claws held the mask of brilliant pink, purple and white feathers adorned with pearls and the same jewels that made her dress sparkle and small pieces of gold. Her mask had no ties, how was she to put it on? As if knowing her thoughts, Thorne bent to her ear and placed his hand over hers.

"Women hold their mask to cover their eyes, my lady," he whispered moving her hand to her face until she was looking at the nobles through the eyeholes. It all seemed so silly for grown adults to disguise themselves to each other.

"What purpose does this serve, my lord?" she asked, "I will never be able to remember who all of them are without seeing their faces."

"Exactly the point, darling. It is an evening to forget who we are and to not care who is governing which villages, only to enjoy ourselves. You will see, it is great fun!" he said.

The king was the one to commence the music with his request. They struck up the song that Aspen had danced with him to at the festival and her heart wanted to stop. She knew he would ask her to dance this song with him. She quickly grabbed Thorne's hand to lead him out to dance, but he anchored himself to the floor. Then, she understood that there was an arrangement made between the two of them. The mask fell from her face and her own mask of disgust plagued her features making Thorne cringe.

"Perhaps it would be wise to tell me that there has been a manly deal made over which dances the other is entitled to have with me. How many more must I suffer through, my lord?" she fumed.

"The king has asked my permission to dance with you for three dances and has requested that you play the harp for him as well. He very much enjoyed your performance the other night, as did I," he said as quickly and comfortably as he could. He knew he would take a thrashing for this.

"Perhaps I will refuse to play for him, or anyone else!" she stormed. Thorne could see the clouds brewing in her eyes and he hoped the rain would not fall this night. He pulled her to a corner away from other ears.

"I care not what you wish right now!" he growled. "You are my wife, you are the hostess of this party, you are the one the king favors and you will obey me tonight! It is through our marriage that I do have the right to promise things on your behalf. If dancing with you pleases him and eases his hurt then you will dance with him. If he wishes for you to play for all of these people, then you will. Are you understanding me? I am your husband...you obey me! May the devil take me to Hell, I will not allow you to ruin the evening because you do not wish to play or dance!"

He saw her chin tremble and drew her into his arms, her ear resting upon his chest. She could hear his heart hammering inside of him. The warmth of his body infused her as the sun through an open window and she felt angry and ashamed at the same time.

"I do not wish to make you cry, my love. There are many things on the line for me...for us, and I need this evening to be a success. Please be the gracious noble I know you are and smile even when you hate it. There, often times, is a price of nobility, a very high price. We will have many dances together, I think you can spare three for your king who loves you so."

"I do it for you, not for him, my lord."

"Thank you, Aspen," he answered as Rothan came to stand beside him. He broke his embrace with Aspen and her mask flew to her face to hide her disappointment. A knot of uneasiness twisted his innards watching her go.

Rothan brought her into the circle of dancers and the twirling and trading of partners began. She knew the steps quite well from the last time, only the people were different. They had been born and raised in propriety and perfection on the dance floor, which made her a bit nervous.

"I wanted to dance with you this eve for I am taking my leave on the morrow. The arrangements have been made. I meant what I said at the feast. I do apologize for hurting you. I never meant to," he said just before the change in dancers. Around the circle she flew dancing with every fine gentleman present until she fell into his arms again.

"I am so sorry as well for the heartache I have caused you. However, I respect you all the more for your support in my marriage," she said.

"The only thing that gets me through each day is that I hope our paths may cross again one day under different circumstances and mayhap you will feel even a twinge of what I feel for you. That would make me most happy, my lady," he said.

His words took her off her guard once again and she was thankful for the change in partners again to give her time to think of an appropriate answer. When once again she was face to face with him, she confessed.

"'Tis but a twinge, but you hold a secret place in my heart, Rothan," she whispered. The smile that lit his face made her heart dance. She was happy he would leave on good terms with the both of them. The song was over, she curtsied to her king and found her husband waiting for her as the next song was beginning.

He walked to her, he had seen the king beam at her and a slight jealousy overcame him. Why was she charming him so if she could not stand him? Still, she was married to him now, not Rothan. He came at her, grabbing her waist and whirling her out to dance on that one, one of few that dancers stayed together.

"I have been awaiting you, darling. I was beginning to think that you were discussing plans to run away with him on the morrow," he smiled.

Aspen could tell it was a false smile and explained the conversation she had shared with the king. Thorne kissed her forehead. "I knew you could make things turn out for the better. You always do. I believe that the musicians are signaling for a break in playing after this song. Would you play a while before the fools appear?"

"I don't mind. All is well, Thorne. The king is leaving on the morrow, quite early I thought. Then we can make our life together. As much as I hate seeing him go this way, I am glad he will be out of the way," she said.

"I know, I feel the same way," he laughed.

The song was over too quickly and the musicians abandoned their instruments for ale and food and Aspen took her seat by the harp. She had forgotten about even having one of her own. She tilted it back upon her shoulder and the audience held their breath. Her fingers traced the familiar pattern of water falling from the cliffs and into the ocean. She thought back to last night when she had been pronounced Thorne's wife and the way they had made love happen under the willow and then again beneath the waterfall. Every move her fingers made added passion to the notes floating on the still summer air, moving many who listened. Her eyes opened to see Thorne leaving the room with a man she had never seen before, then fell upon the king who watched her intently. She barely heard the applause she received as she hustled to find out what was going on with her husband when the king stepped in front of her.

"I will never tire of hearing that piece, my lady," he said grinning at her.

Aspen tried to dodge him, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked her arm free and threw him a look that would shrivel the devil. "What is all this?" she demanded.

The king cleared his throat. "He went for a meeting with one of his scouts. He returned after being out on an errand for Thorne for some time. He will be back soon, but you must stay close to me. Come, let us catch the fools' routine," he tried to sound light hearted.

Aspen allowed him to take her elbow and lead her to a chair, never taking her eyes off of the doors where Thorne had disappeared wondering what could be happening right then behind closed doors.

The fools were entertaining enough, turning acrobatics and playing pranks on the others, singing dreadfully pathetic songs that never made sense and never rhymed in the least, nevertheless provoking laughter from the audience. Aspen's attention began to turn to the silly men in the bright clothing and even laughed herself, a time or two.

Just as the fools took their bow and the audience clapped and threw them coins for their efforts, Aspen felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned expecting to see her husband rejoining the party, but her smile faded as she looked into the eyes of a servant whom she had seen before but had never met.

"His lordship would like to see you in private, my lady," he whispered.

Aspen nodded and rose following him out glancing behind to see if anyone noticed her departure...no one did.

Once in the study, the servant closed the door behind Aspen leaving her alone with her husband. Her heart pittered for him wanting her to run into his arms and kiss him silly, but the deep look on his face rooted her to the spot on the rug. She began to ring her hands as her attraction turned into panic. Thorne cleared his throat, asking her to sit on the sofa. She merely stared back at him.

"Suit yourself," he almost grumbled. "I have some news I had hoped to have gotten some time ago. I sent out scouts to find your brother and sister and to find your father as well. They took dogs even, but they never found anything. The trail went dead, yet no bodies were found of any of them. That is encouraging to me, if there were no bodies, they should still be alive...somewhere. I am sorry. My scouts returned before they had finished their search because they heard a rumor that they confirmed to be the truth. St. Michael had a daughter last eve. The thing we were dreading the very most has happened. I am relieved that all of this celebrating is nearly over and I can watch you better than I have been able to. However, our marriage may deter him from acting impulsively so I want to announce it to all this eve so that word may fly back to him on gossip."

Aspen had no words, only dread in the pit of her belly. Numbly, she nodded and turned to leave. "Thank you for trying, it means the world to me, Thorne. I am going to rejoin our guests. Perhaps if I ask questions of my family's whereabouts, someone may know something. Will you be coming in as well?"

"I will be there shortly. I need to get instructions to Cappy to step up the guard now that my men are back," he answered.

Aspen nodded again and closed the heavy door behind her leaning against it and blinking back the tears. They had to be somewhere. Her first thought was to retire early from the ball, seek refuge in her chamber, then Thorne's lecture of being unselfish and hospitable played in her mind and she knew she would offend the king as well as all of the other guests that had traveled so far to be there. She took a deep breath and sighed heavily and started down the corridor where torches had been lit, her slippers tapping on the stones and her gown rustling around her legs. She could hear the commotion coming from the ballroom and smiled knowing their party was a grand one.

It seemed slightly chilly turning the corner and just before she entered the warmth within the ballroom, a hand snapped over her nose and mouth and a foul smelling cloth burned her nose and throat. She tried to scream knowing she could not breath in again or she would faint with the toxic fumes of the cloth, but she sounded muffled and silent compared to the roar of conversation and laughter. She tried to jab with her elbows, stamp her feet, wriggle from the hold of strong arms behind her. She wanted to see who was doing all of this and tried to crane her head around. She could not stand any more and her lungs could not obey. They only knew how to survive and on their own will did they force her to draw a deep breath of poison. Her eyes widened in the pain of invisible flames coursing through her and immediately the hallway began to swim before her, the floor became as weak as water and all the torches seemed to go out until she was falling into a pit of blackness where there was no end. She lost all control of her body and succumbed to the inkiness of unconsciousness.

### Chapter 14

The hour was late when Thorne had finished his business with Cappy and a handful of the other men. He had just finished rolling up maps and putting the final touches on their plans when a knock sounded on his study door.

"Enter!" Thorne called expecting to see his wife carrying the sadness and worry that his news had brought her. The door did open and the king stepped inside. Shock briefly shaded his face, which quickly turned to curiosity at the sour look on Rothan's face.

"Where did Aspen run to?" Rothan asked. "Her guests are missing her."

Thorne furrowed his brow. He thought she had gone back to the party. "Perhaps she went to bed early. My news was not the best and must have upset her," he rationalized.

"My lord, I have just come from there and I found not one thing out of place, not a wrinkle in her coverlet. I had hoped you two were still discussing things, but alas, it is not so," he said worried.

Thorne tried to hide his panic, but his breath came fast and his palms grew moist and he felt tremors in his hands and legs. He raked his hands through his hair.

"We men will scour the castle and find her. She must have needed some time to come to grip what you have revealed to her. Go back to your guests and I will report back shortly," Cappy assured.

Thorne nodded in agreement, he needed to wish them all a happy evening and send them on their way. Cappy bellowed his orders for his men and directions they needed to go and like herd of stampeding horses, they thundered from the room. Thorne snatched up his mask and walked beside Rothan all the way to the ballroom not saying a word, but a million thoughts rolling through his head. Something in the shadows caught his eye...it barely sparkled in the dim light of the torches. He bent to pick it up and then his panic was real. He had found Aspen's mask lying idly on the floor. Something was not right. Rothan heard the cessation of Thorne's footfalls and turned to see the same...he wanted to scream at Thorne for letting her roam alone. He himself should have gone with her, but he hadn't noticed she had left until she was already gone.

"Dear God, what has happened to her?" Thorne whispered.

"The ball is over, we need to enlist the help of the noblemen and any of their men. In light of the news from Rosehill, St. Michael must be to blame. We must ride there and demand that he gives her back!" Rothan hissed.

"You know as well as I that that won't be accomplished without a fight. If you will speak with the men, I will go up to the post and ask my men on watch if they saw anything," Thorne called as he was running out the front doors. Rothan signaled him with an uplifted hand that he would do just that.

The air was heavy and humid. A summer storm was on its way. He found the staircase in the pitch of midnight that led to the battlements at the front of the castle, the one that controls the gate's activity. The gate! He looked toward the gate and in the light of the torches, he found no portcullis lowered to the ground. He would have the heads of every last watchman this night! He took the stone steps two at a time all the way up the side of the tower wall and stopped short with a blade pointed at his throat.

"Get your bloody sword away from me!" he yelled knocking it from the grasp of the startled man. He heard it tink against the stone on its way down to the ground far below. Thorne grabbed the man by his throat and dragged him back to where the other men were drinking their fill of ale and laughing in the clouded moonlight. They saw the lord of the castle dragging their man beside him and sobered immediately. Thorne let the man go coughing and sputtering.

"I want to know what you saw this eve coming through the gates after the ball had begun. I want details, and if you cannot remember the details, I will kill you off one by one," he growled.

The men shuffled their feet and cleared their throats looking one to the other for words. Finally, the man Thorne had just attacked stepped forward offering a feeble bow.

"I will tell all I know, I was at the watch most of the eve. What exactly do you wish to know, my lord?" he said.

Thorne had to steady his breathing. "Why is the portcullis open?"

The man flicked his gaze to Thorne's. "Your guests have begun to part for their tents, my lord."

Thorne pressed his palms to his eyes to keep them dry. "Who specifically has taken their leave?"

"The Baron and Baroness of Cherrywood and the Baroness of Crystal Springs had been fetched by her servants. Thus far, that is all," the man answered.

"Did these servants call to gain entry? Did you open the gates for them without verifying that they were truly coming for her? What were they wearing, what exactly did they say?" Thorne battered him with questions.

"Uh, they did call...said 'oy! We needs to claim our mistress 'fore she makes a fool o' herself! We was told to get her at the witchin' hour! Probably drunk and sleeping in a corner, she is...' they laughed. I asked them who their mistress was and they never hesitated, they said she was the Baroness of Crystal Springs. We knew she was indeed here, so I let them pass. Minutes later, they came back out dragging a cloaked figure, looked like a woman with, maybe, a shiny dress on. I thought I caught a glimpse of it under the bottom of the cloak. They waved at me as they passed back out of the gates and yelled 'Wht'd we tell ye?' That was all. My lord, what is going on?"

Thorne let his breath escape him and the lump in his throat grew to be painful to bear. "I do believe that the woman you saw was lady Aspen, you fool!" he whispered. "They infiltrated my own keep and my own guards let them enter." He cocked his head to one side burning holes through the man, his voice quiet and chillingly insane. "I told you all how great the danger was for Aspen and you allowed them to walk right in, knock her unconscious, and drag her out right beneath your noses." He gave an ironic chuckle and shook his head before the rage inside of him exploded and he felt his fist connect with the man's jaw sending him reeling backwards to the ground. "Lower the damned portcullis now! No one enters or exits without my consent!" he bellowed and flew back down the stairs. He could hear the massive gate thundering down to the ground in the blackness and rumors being whispered behind soft, proper hands as Cappy ran to his side.

"I found nothing, my lord. There is no sign of her ladyship," he reported out of breath.

Thorne's voice grew to rumble as the thunder. "That would be because our guards failed in their duty of protection! They actually watched her being drug from her home into the night! She could be anywhere now!" he growled.

Cappy froze in mid stride. His heart may well have stopped for he saw nothing nor heard nothing but the panic beating in his ears. No! This could not be! His men were not that stupid! He blinked and raced to catch back up to Thorne and grabbed his arm, spinning him to face him.

"What do you mean, Thorne? My men are capable men!" Cappy yelled over the noise.

Thorne filled his hands with Cappy's tunic and clenched his teeth until Cappy could hear them grinding. "I mean that your men on that tower over there allowed strangers passage, gained them entrance to my home and they, in turn, smuggled my...Aspen out under a cloak to take her God only knows where and to do only God knows what to her! That is what your men are capable of. If you had been up there, I would have you run through! However, those men will pay for her life with their blood if any harm has come to her. I swear on my mother's grave they will die in her name!"

Cappy's rage was peaking and he heard so much confusion and panic around him that made his frustration worse and to have to listen to this man who never had risked his life defending this castle, who knew nothing of being a guard and the great responsibility that comes with that occupation. His hands fisted and his eyes bulged and his breathing came faster until he could see nothing beyond the rage in his mind.

"Until you have stood a watch up there and know what it is like to walk within their boots, lad, don't be so quick to hand out death and judgment upon these men! You have become so very high in your esteem that you forget that those men are just that...men! They make mistakes and they can be ignorant in their decisions! How were they to know that it was not one of the guests? If you want to run someone through or hang them on a rope, look to Rosehill and the probability that it was the St. Michaels that had their hands in this dirty deed! It is taking all of my strength to keep myself from knocking you flat to the ground!" Cappy ran his hands over the sweat dripping from his face and cleared his throat to keep his own emotional fear at bay. He let his hands relax and took a deep breath before clapping Thorne on the shoulder. "I know you are scared for her...I am scared too. But, let's join our forces together and catch up to these bastards and slit their throats!"

"We have been wed for barely one day, Cappy. I thought I would be keeping her safer in making her my wife. I pray to God that St. Michael has one drop of nobility in his blood and will not force himself upon a married noble woman. I let her walk out of the study and I never told her again that I loved her."

"No, boy, you LOVE her! She is not dead, I am quite sure. I love her too and I am on your side...as are all of these men. Motivate them, educate them with your knowledge and I with mine and we will catch these sots straight away!"

"Thank you, my friend," Thorne said extending his hand and Cappy taking it in the wrist-to-wrist grip of friendship.

Thorne raced to the stone steps at the doors to the castle and looked out at all the men holding torches talking wildly amongst themselves. There were men of his own employ and men from all over the territory with the men in their employ as well. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the king at his side, remorse covering his face. Thorne turned back to the men and raised his hands for silence.

"I am calling for Orin! Please come forth for I must have words with you!" he called. A man from the shadows nimbly dodged the crowd and skipped up the stairs. He was a small man in stature, but he was the best tracker Thorne had ever worked with. With nary a sound he skipped to Thorne's side and the three men disappeared behind the massive doors. Thorne did not even take the time to return to his study, he turned on Orin immediately.

"Something dreadful has happened and I am willing to pay you handsomely if you can find her ladyship. Someone, well, it was told to me that two men came in here and must have found Aspen walking the corridors and whether of their own accord or other orders, they succeeded in kidnapping Aspen earlier this eve. I know not where they took her, who they are, or who sent them except that it is too coincidental that St. Michael had no heir and now Aspen is missing. Perhaps he has come to claim her as his own. Go quick as you can for we have wasted much time already. I want her found by morn. You do this, you will be rewarded," Thorne explained.

"Consider it done, my lord," Orin bowed. "I am ready as always to depart."

"Will it help you if I send the men out to look for any sign of her?"

"Nay, my lord. Allow me a spell to inspect the ground before others walk on it. I will return with information and at that time, we will all hunt for her," Orin answered. He spun on his heel, his brown cloak flying behind him, his dark hair falling over his shoulders and he left.

Thorne stepped out once again and gave a whistle to the guards to raise the gates enough for Orin to leave. Then, he found Cappy and motioned for him to approach. The men in the bailey began to grow restless in their curiosity.

"Cappy, we need a plan. Say that St. Michael has her. We need to be able to retrieve her. Any ideas?" Thorne asked noticing that the king was hovering close again.

Cappy fingered his red beard and thought. "If we cannot recover her this night, I say we ride to Rosehill on the morrow and demand an audience with St. Michael himself. We make it clear that you have married her, that she belongs to you and not himself and you have come to collect her. I will tell you now that it is likely that he will deny her presence. But if she was taken earlier tonight, they have ample time to get her there by morning. We will do our best to search his keep and try to locate her. I hope to God that they do not have time to hide her away. That seems to be the only logical plan. We could send out dogs as well, if you want to. But, we all but know where she is...or will be."

"We will do it your way, Cappy. Make certain all preparations are made before it is time to leave. I will rally the men who wish to go along," Thorne said.

"Do you really think this wise? Going to accuse your known enemy with no proof?" Rothan asked him.

"Who the hell's side are you on? Do you know something you are not telling us? I fail to see the line where your loyalties lay, your majesty. Aspen needs us, we must get her back."

"I completely agree with you, however, do not be so hasty. Avoid a battle. Being hasty provokes fighting. Do not shed your men's blood for your love. Allow St. Michael the benefit of the doubt and if he fails to have any integrity, acquire the information you need to make a sound attack and spend few lives."

"But these people will fight with their lives for her. She is that important to them. I do not have the time available to learn his keep. It would all end with the death of the St. Michael lineage."

"That it could, but I also see that those loyal to him will plunder your people, rob travelers along your roads, make this place undesirable and that means there will be no gold lining anyone's pockets. No, boy, use your head...do not go warring yet."

Thorne could not believe his ears! This man was in love with his wife as well but seemed not at all worried about Aspen's welfare. A cloud of doubt in his king clouded his eyes. He was in on it. Aspen was probably hidden away in his camp or at a secret place in the forest until the pilgrimage home. Then, he would pick them up and all the while, Thorne was frantically searching for the woman the king coveted enough to steal from him, he would be far away looking in Rosehill. Anger rose in his throat, he only hoped he was wrong.

"I do not want your advice," he growled.

The king's lips grew tight and pursed in his frustration. He threw up his hands in defeat. "Do not expect my support in a war of personal gain!" he hollered and stomped to his quarters leaving Thorne alone to wrestle with his emotions and logic.

"Henry, I will be in Aspen's rooms when Orin returns," he said flatly and slinked into her sanctuary.

He opened the door and could smell her still and could feel her breath on his neck. Chills wracked his body...it was far too eerie. He sat on her bed wanting her to simply walk back through the door and all this fuss being for naught. He spied a book on her bedside table. He smiled knowing how she loved reading and picked up the book opening it idly. Inside he found a beautiful scrawling handwriting that somehow hit him as familiar. He wondered if he had ever read this particular book and the closer he looked, he realized this was not just a book, but his own mother's record book! He forced his eyes to focus and read what she had to say. As he read, a certain passage caught his eye.

' _Wilford and Devlin will not stop fighting. I am close to giving birth and it should be a joyous occasion but it is full of sorrow. How could I bring this child into this mess? Wilford thought he could simply come here and take what he wanted once I married Devlin, that it all belonged to him being our family. He has resorted to taking his anger out on his tenants...it makes me wonder how many bastards he has brought into this world. When that no longer satisfies him, what will he do then? Devlin says to let him throw his tantrums, that he is doing this hoping I will give in and let him have what he wants. Devlin is a smart man. I have begged him to take his men and surround my brother until they can be rid of him, but he says he will not let the blood of his men spill for greed whether his own or Wilford's. I fear, though, that he will take the life of my son or my husband to inherit his gains. I pray to God I am wrong.'_

Thorne kept reading, the tears threatening him behind his lids, his breathing fast and his mind reeling.

' _It is the birthday of Thorne today. We have invited Wilford and his family for the festivities. My darling son is ten today. Wilford has seemed very quiet these past weeks and I pray his obsession is over and we can be a family once again. I worry about Rayven. He is a good boy, but has been prodded constantly by his father and seems to be turning into a hateful person like his father. Poor child. He is a year in age, but he twists the necks of the cats until they die, he catches mice and holds them in the creek until they drown. It cannot be normal for such a small boy to kill everything in sight. I am glad, though, that Wilford has his heir. Perhaps Rayven is just going through a phase of curiosity. I hear them approaching...Oh, my God! The St. Michael men are advancing upon us! I can see the archers lined up behind the men carrying the steel! I have got to get my children to safety!'_

As Thorne read the final entry in his mother's book, his own birthday so long ago when his father and brother were taken from him...and his mother. She never made it to find them, she had been shot through her window with the arrow of her own family and had died there with no one knowing. He wondered if she had called out for them, wishing they were at her side to tell her good-bye. He wondered also who put the book in the secret place when his mother was found dead before the fireplace in this very room. He fingered the blood that dotted the page feeling a bond with her and wanting to hold her again. He thought of how she would think of him, she had been a real person, not just a woman in the shadows of his mind. He would make her proud. He would become powerful and would take St. Michael out of their lives forever! From his reading, Thorne was doing exactly what St. Michael was hoping he would do. He was about to walk into a trap.

A knock sounded at the door and Thorne opened it to find Orin there.

"My lord, I have come to report."

Thorne motioned for him to enter the room. He, himself sat in the same upholstered chair he had made love to his wife in hours before. Orin produced a slipper.

"I found this, is it hers?"

"Aye, it is," Thorne answered.

"I saw two sets of footprints and the one line that appeared to be someone being dragged. They worked quickly making their way through the camps and through the forest. I lost their trail in the brush. I could not tell where they went after that, it is just too dark. However, my suspicions tell me they took her by water."

Thorne sat up, eyes wide. "What? By water? Why?"

"I cannot be certain, but I saw no tracks leaving the village on any road. Unless they are holed up in the forest, I feel that they took her to a boat to skirt her off. Mayhap the dogs could tell us something more," he said solemnly.

"Aye, aye. Send the dogs," he said quietly. Orin bowed to him and took his leave. Rothan's dwelling was on the northwestern shore of the territory. The bastard was hell bent on getting his way! Thorne would let him know he would not get away with it. They would go to Rosehill and if Aspen was not there, he would turn his sights on Rothan himself!

Doubt began to confuse his logic. He had been so sure it was St. Michael who was doing this, but now he was not so sure. Rothan had dropped so many clues to him, informing him of the problems the St. Michaels were experiencing to give himself an out, someone more to blame taking the suspicion from himself. He had decided to leave early to finish the pilgrimage, the day that Aspen had disappeared. It appeared as though he had her sent by water taking the extra time until Thorne had exhausted all other possibilities and he himself could not pursue them by water for he had no boat. Rothan was talking him out of taking Rosehill by force threatening his nonsupport to discourage him from battle...from killing the wrong man. The list went on in Thorne's mind. He would play the game and see where it got him.

*******

The dark pit she had fallen into began to dissolve around her and she could hear birds. These were not the gentle tweetering birds at her bedroom window, but birds that screeched and called out to one another. She was not home...she could feel it before she tried to find the strength to open her eyes. A breeze tickled her flesh that felt roughened by fabric that she had never worn before and her feet were cold. It smelled odd to her, yet it pained her to breathe in deeply. All at once, the last memories she had flooded her mind again. The hand over her nose and mouth, the fumes on the cloth, the panic she felt knowing there were people around the corner who could help her. She forced her eyes to open and saw nothing but sky...a sky filled with the promise of sunshine and a few scattered fluffy clouds. She rolled her head to one side and found she was in a craft and by the lulling and the slap of water she knew it was a ship or rather, a small boat. She had been set to sea! She struggled to sit up and her head began to spin, she felt nauseous. She held to the side of the boat and stood, weaving a bit, and shaded her eyes against the sun. Her stomach rumbled at her and her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. She could see no sign of land at all. She could tell that it was close to midday by the position of the sun. There was no man at the wheel of the boat, she tried to call out, but it hurt to speak and nothing came out. She felt vilely ill and vomited over the side of the craft crying through the pain in her throat. She saw her reflection in the water...it was as though she had never been in Cliffehaven. Her hair was askew and unkempt, her face pale and she wore a burlap sack with holes cut for her arms and head. She looked hideous. She heard a noise and turned to find two men dark as sin standing before her grinning at her plight.

"Don't mind us, keep on with what you's doin'," one said with the low sound of thunder in his voice.

"Who are you and why am I with you?" Aspen struggled to get out.

"None your business, miss. You are not to ask questions at all, get me?" the same man bellowed at her, his poor English and thick accent evident.

"Do you have names?" she ignored the part of no questions.

"I said no questions!" he growled and strode to her striking her face. She slumped to the ground in sheer pain and curled in a ball...much like she had all her life when she angered her father.

She could hear them converse but could not understand them. Where was she? Where were they taking her? Whose orders were they following? Would Thorne find her? How could she communicate with them without asking questions? That was all she could think of...questions.

After the sun had begun to dip in the sky and her stomach growled fiercely, she decided she would have to try to talk to them again.

She sat up looking around for signs of the two and found that they had gone. "Oy!" she tried to shout.

The man that struck her came into view. "What you want?" he demanded.

"I am hungry and thirsty," she stated. She did not ask.

"Girl's 'ungry!" he laughed deeply, sounding sick and croupy but sobered quickly. "Never said I'd feed ye," he stated his eyes burning holes through her.

"I want my clothes, my jewelry," she stated again.

A look of feigned regret covered his face. His filthy hand stole to his heart as he said, "I'm sorry 'bout dat. See, it just fell off of ye and into da water. I had to put sumpin' on ye to make ye decent. Yes, naked as jaybird ye was, awfully perty and soft and oh, so touchable," he added with a smile exposing a mouth of rotted teeth.

His words made her skin crawl with disgust. His hands had been on her, touching her anywhere he wished. A shiver stole over her that she could not repress. The man smiled again and walked away. She turned her head in all directions scanning the horizon for any sign of land...there was none. She peered into the water, the same water that nearly killed her months ago. Did she dare jump and take her chances? She could not swim well at all. Or did she stay and allow these men to drug her and touch her, possibly rape her? She chewed her lower lip and decided she had to try to get back to Thorne. She stood, muttered a prayer and jumped over the side.

The water was as cold as she remembered it. She gasped at the shock and started swimming the best she could. She swam to what she thought was north...it was only logical that she should hit land. She knew that the sun rose in the east and set in the west, the sun was setting so she must be going the right way. In no time she was exhausted and out of breath she turned over on her back to rest and her muscles began to cramp from the cold. She could barely feel her legs and arms. She groaned in pain and tried to keep moving, tears streaming down her face. She was so scared to go under to the grabbing hands of the water, to breathe in the coldness of death. She heard a splash behind her and knew they were coming for her. She tried to move faster and when that failed, she allowed herself to sink, the darkness finding her. She let the precious air leave her body...she could feel the bubbles bounce against her face. But hands fisted in her hair yanking her above the water where she coughed and sputtered. She tried to slap the hands away, but her own felt like jelly. Strong arms grabbed her around her middle and hoisted her up onto deck again.

"You stupid wench!" the familiar voice grumbled kicking her side. She heard the boots stomp off.

Moments later, a bit of food was thrown on the ground before her and a skin of something was thrust in her face. She sat up and took the skin, the drink inside burning her throat and warming her belly. She drank deeply and fingered her morsel of nourishment...a hard crust of bread, salted meat, and a disgusting piece of cheese. She ate all but the cheese as if she hadn't eaten in days and drank some more from the skin.

She licked her fingers clean and turned around to admire the sunset behind them. The clouds in the west were shaded purple and orange and pink and the last few rays of the sun filtered through the clouds onto the surface of the water. It was a beautiful sight, one she had never seen this way before. It was as if a little piece of heaven was teasing her just beyond her grasp. A smile touched her and she thought of Thorne. She wished he were there to hold her and take the chill out of the night. Her lids grew heavy and she laid down hoping to dream of her husband and her rescue. She knew he would come for her.

Aspen woke to the rocking of the boat and the wind whistling between the masts and sails, pulling the ship any way it wanted. She could hear the shouts between the two men to get the sails down and man the wheel. She looked in the direction of the wheel and saw it spinning freely. She heard a tear which turned into a ripping sound that rent through the storm and a sail had been blown free of the mast and flew right over her head. Giant jagged streaks of lightning filled the ominous clouds and the thunder that crashed was much more mighty than she had ever heard. It reverberated through her entire being, even changing the beat of her heart. The men finally had managed the sails and the mouthy one ran to the wheel to take control of the ship's direction.

Aspen looked to the angry sea and in the flashes of the lightning, she could see the swells of the waves building to a gigantic height...easily two times the height of their craft. Perhaps more.

"Get her below!" the man at the wheel commanded. The other man immediately made his way to her tripping over rope gone astray and slipping in the water on the deck. The boat rocked so violently, she imagined them capsizing at any moment. She knew he was coming for her, but she was petrified...frozen in her place. The drops began to fall. Large, sad drops touched with the warmth of summer. It was the wind screaming that made her shiver. It seemed to grow louder and louder still until her hands clapped down over her ears and she melted into a frightened girl, curled up into a ball in a potato sack on the wet wooden planks of a ship's deck, praying to God it would stop.

Once again, strong arms were about her and lifted her from the floor.

"Hang on tight!" he bellowed above the screeching wind and flung her over his back, her arms clinging tightly to his neck. His long, deep brown hair whipped around his face and stung her cheeks. She buried her face in his back hoping they would not be washed out into the ocean.

She heard it before she saw it, a roaring hum that grew louder. She looked up from her shield of this man as a bolt of lightning struck the tallest mast in a crack of force. Wood splintered and flames erupted to be extinguished by a dousing wave. The ship creaked and groaned beneath the falling mast. Aspen screamed as loud as her voice would allow and in the gale, she barely heard it herself.

"It's goin down! We're losin' the main mast! Stand clear! It may break her apart!" the first man screamed.

Aspen began to cry. She simply could not help it. She saw the mast fall as if in slow motion...like time had slowed only for her to show her every last horrific detail. She hated the sea, she decided. Once on dry land, she would never visit the sea again. Down it came until the ship tilted under the offset balance, ropes flew about in the wind slapping at them cruelly, until it splashed heavily into the waters to be swallowed up as she had once been. The boat righted itself in a sudden jerk of buoyancy still being thrown about by the hands of the waves.

The man continued to get her below deck but not before she was shivering and soaked with weather. He scampered down the steps and set her down in a puddle of water ankle deep. She flicked her gaze to his, her mouth wide open in surprise. The man's hazel eyes lit up in mirth at her profound expression.

"Is there a hole? Oh, I mean, there must be a hole. We must find it," she breathed in panic.

He found her a bit charming and smiled a kind smile. "You are smart, I'll give you that," he said in a thick accent yet a voice smooth as honey.

The craft rocked to one side throwing Aspen forward to be caught in his arms and water from a wave crashing over the deck flowed down the steps. Understanding dawned in her face and she closed her mouth and cocked her head to one side.

"Oh my, there is no hole. Goodness. Well, then, we won't sink. That is good," she said breathlessly not being able to look away from the spell in those hazel eyes, not dark and hopeless as Thorne's were at times but a warm brown bejeweled with emerald flecks. Sense came to her and she gasped in shame at betraying her husband so and pulled herself away. She blushed in embarrassment and turned her back to him shaking her head.

He draped a blanket over her shoulders to warm her chill and motioned for her to sit on a cot. There were only two in the small room so she figured it must be his own cot.

"I don't want to get it all wet," she muttered. He smiled at her words and walked to the other bed. He raised his booted foot and slammed it to the ground as hard as he could, splashing water all over the other bed.

"Now his bed is wet too. Sit and I will get you some brandy. It will warm you some. Worry not...I'll not hurt you," he whispered the last and glanced about as if looking for some demon...Aspen figured it was the cruel man on deck that was his demon.

Aspen took a swig of brandy and it did warm her considerably. She smacked her lips and swallowed before she carefully thought out her next question that was not a question.

"I want to know your name and who you serve," she finally said in a raspy whisper.

"I cannot tell you that. It is forbidden that I speak to you, which is a shame since you sound like a very intelligent frog," he said with a chuckle. "I wish I could."

"My name is Aspen, Duchess of Cliffehaven. I am married to Lord Darktower, Earl of Cliffehaven. You have saved my life and I am in your debt. I had some jewels...a ring and a necklace that were gifts from your king to myself and I want to see them returned to me. The king will be looking for me as well as my husband and I would not like him to think I was careless with his gifts and lost them. I am sure you understand. Take me, for instance. Your master would be very upset with you if you happened to lose me. It seems you have taken great pains to plan and harvest my capture," she said trying to get through to him the seriousness of the situation and that he should talk with her about it. Guilt and mayhap a tinge of fear fogged his vision. He blinked and came back to her.

"I have my orders. All I know is orders," he said darkly and left her sitting upon his cot. At the top of the staircase, his hand stole to his belt where he had tied a very special pouch and fingered the wonderful treasures inside. He would be wealthy with the gold these two trinkets would bring. Still, the thought of gold did not cheer him as it usually did.

*******

It was close to midday when Thorne, Rothan and Cappy led the men into the heart of Rosehill. Thorne could tell that something was amiss as he stared at the deteriorating conditions of the once great village. Homes were showing the sign of neglect and hard times...but why? The people poked their faces out to see what was happening and quickly disappeared again and barred their doors tight. Mothers in the marketplace pulled their children to safety whispering warnings in their haste. Shop keepers and cart vendors scrambled to close down to avoid a loss of property. Thorne knew they were afraid of what they didn't know about. They were not afraid of him, they were afraid that they would be attacked and not know why. They never saw this coming...just like his mother. At least he came unarmed to the village, having sent the rest of the men to Aspen's family home with the provisions and weaponry. It was to be his shelter before the storm.

"Do not be afraid, people of Rosehill!" he called halting the party with a raised hand. "I come to you unarmed and wish to resolve a dispute with your lord in peace!"

Faces came to the windows again and an old man inched from his hut of sticks and drying mud. Thorne watched most curiously as he crept nearer.

"What the bloody 'ell did ye come here wif no blades, ye blasted idiot!" he ranted.

"We wish your people no harm, " Thorne explained.

"Ye daft?" he asked exposing a mouth void of teeth, his white hair flapping in the breeze. "We's all hopin' ye were 'ere to kill the bloke in the castle or send us to 'ell. It'd be heaven compared to 'ere. Go back where ye come from till ye have blades to do the devil in!" he yelled and turned back to his home.

A light whistle above the breeze caught Thorne's ear.

"Old man! Look out! Move faster!" he screamed as a single arrow struck the man in his chest dropping him to the dusty road like a fly in a flame. Thorne jumped from his beast and ran to aid the man. Thorne reached his side to find a puddle of blood surrounding him and staining the dirt black. He stared at the arrow protruding obscenely from a chest of skin and bone, no muscle or fat as on a young, healthy being. The man looked to him with wizened old eyes of blue and coughed pathetically as blood began to drown him.

"Looks like I'll be goin' to a better place after all. Even if it is 'ell," he whispered. "Save these people, boy."

Thorne grew angry as the man's eyes glazed over and his spirit left him an empty shell. He was days away from dying, as God would have him. Why shoot him with an arrow in the chest? The arrow had skewered him like a pig on a spit, passing completely through his body, the head of the arrow embedded in the dirt. Thorne could feel his jaw lock and his fingers fist, he could feel every unhappy moment in his life penetrate his defenses and unleash his fury. He wanted to squash the rat beneath his boot...the rat responsible for the meaningless death of an unhappy old man.

Thorne stood and bellowed, "Will somebody help this man? Will you not get him buried?"

Faces left their windows and all was still and quiet. No one would come out of their shelter even to bury their neighbor.

Thorne looked to the castle shading his eyes with his gloved hand and spied two guards, it seemed, clapping each other on the back and bent in fits of laughter. They had taken to killing people for sport in this wretched place. For the first time, an evil feeling of foreboding came over him and he prayed that Aspen was not here.

Thorne climbed back into his saddle and rested his hands on the pommel looking at the king beside him.

"They must have mistaken that old man for a pheasant or, perhaps, a duck...a turkey even," Thorne grumbled sarcastically. "Anything but a fellow human being. It is all a game,"

Rothan could sense the hostility in Thorne and saw firsthand the man that Aspen had nurtured into a great leader. He decided that if Thorne played his strategy right, he would make him a grand duke.

"Be careful, Darktower. You are no good to Aspen dead," Rothan said.

Thorne snorted. "I don't believe I will ever see her again, sire. She was plucked from my hands, but not before I bedded her twice. We both knew two moments of happiness in each of our lives. I will never forget her, she will never forget me."

Rothan looked at him sternly. "Never lose hope, son."

Thorne blinked to keep the emotion at bay. "The only hope I hold onto is the hope that she makes him angry enough that he kills her too and allows her to escape him. I would rather see her dead than in his control," he said low with his head bowed.

Cappy intervened. "I should knock you to the end of the earth for thinking such things, Thorne. We will find her. We will save her. She wouldn't want you to give up on her. She will believe until the end of time that you will come for her. She would feel utterly betrayed by what you have just said if she could hear you."

"It is this place," he whispered. "The old man was right. It is dominated by the devil. The evil here chills my bones. The darkness squeezes my heart and the air is heavy, washing away my hope. I thank you for your friendship, your guidance, and I will borrow your hope," he added with a feeble smile.

Thorne signaled the men to hang back and he and Rothan and Cappy advanced on the devil's lair together.

Thorne thought back to the early light of the day when one of the lords found Aspen's gown washed up on shore and remembered the devastation he felt. He had looked upon the king with the gown in his hands and thought Rothan would never recover. He didn't have her...Thorne knew that, but God, how he wished it were that simple. Aspen's other slipper had been found as well in the field of Max and Lila just off the road.

"Halt!" a booming deep voice called out and strode to them. "What business have you here?"

"I am requesting an audience with your lord," Rothan began. "I have come far to speak with him now!"

The guard neared and he looked them over one at a time. Thorne's anger erupted again.

"Bow to your king and show your respect!" he shouted. Rothan touched his arm to remind him to be calm. The guard's eyes grew large and he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"Forgive me, your majesty, I recognized you not," he muttered.

"I tell you again, I wish to see your master."

"Of course, your majesty, but they must stay outside."

"They will accompany me as they are unarmed," Rothan returned.

The man looked defeated beneath his helm and beard and his shoulders sank when he nodded. "I will have to make certain they are unarmed, you understand, sire."

"Certainly. We have nothing to hide and, after all, you are only following orders. A man of your loyalty should be commended," Rothan cooed.

The man puffed up at his remarks and stood back so they could dismount. He motioned to his men to pat them all to uncover any weapons. It took some time, but when the last man had been searched and found clean, the guard came back to Rothan bowing deeply.

"I will inform his lordship of your arrival, your majesty," he spoke as if his tongue were dripping with honey.

Rothan pretended to be more interested in his cuticles than this man. "I do not like to wait," he stated flatly.

"I understand, your majesty," the man half whispered and scampered off to tell St. Michael who was knocking on his door.

Thorne was just beginning to feel annoyed at the wait when the guard returned out of breath. He could not speak between deep breaths and simply motioned to them to follow.

Rothan met Thorne's eyes and could feel the anxiety infiltrate his chest. He nodded to him and proceeded to follow the man, Thorne and his men in tow. They made their way through stone corridors hearing only the uniform clomp of boots on the floor and the coordinating swish of cloaks around several pairs of legs until they were ushered into a room similar to Thorne's own library. The men of the party moved to stand at ease along an empty wall, feet apart and hands clasped behind their backs. The guard could not help but feel impressed with such an organized display and Thorne could not help but feel a sense of pride in his men. The guard nodded and motioned to two leather chairs prompting them to sit.

"What would be your name, sir?" Thorne implored the guard.

Shock, followed by uneasiness, clouded his features. He narrowed his eyes at Thorne. "They call me Sly," he answered and took his leave.

Moments later, a young man entered the room dressed in finery of deep green and a cloak of beige wool and shiny brown boots covered him from his knees to his toes adorned with massive cuffs. He appeared to be miffed and sighed heavily as he removed his brown leather gloves one finger at a time. Then, as if he just realized his liege was present, he clicked his heels together and bowed to him sweeping his plumed hat from his sandy blonde hair.

"'Tis a pleasure to see you again, your majesty," he said sounding bored. "I am confused, however, at the presence of this riffraff," he nodded toward Thorne.

Thorne's blood began to boil, he could nearly feel the steam radiating from his neck. He rolled his eyes impatiently and scratched his temple absently.

Rothan cleared his throat and stood to intimidate the young fool. Thorne had to smile at the attempt; Rothan was no taller than this lad, only wider. He could see a smirk line the boy's mouth and wanted to dismiss it with his own fist. There was no respect there at all.

"I wish to speak with the lord of the house, son," Rothan ordered.

"My father has fallen ill and is unable to leave his bed. I am the lord of the house in his stead, your majesty. How may I be of service to you?" he answered.

"I will see your father in his bed," Rothan pushed.

The boy's hands rested on his hips in a gesture of annoyance. "He will see no one for he lacks the strength to speak. How may I help you, sire?"

"Rayven," Rothan began, "I am concerned with the welfare of your village here. How long has he been ill? I was just here days ago and he was well. What goes on here?"

There was a gleam in this boy's eyes. This was Rayven St. Michael. This was the faceless man who sent Aspen the harp, this was the poor bloke who could not produce an heir, this was the boy who was obsessed with his wife. This look in his eyes was not good. It was all fun to him, like unto a life-sized game of chess where he was in complete control. Thorne knew that this would never end until he was removed from power.

"It has been a mystery to us all, your highness. He became suddenly ill and so weak he could not move freely. Nothing the physicians have done has helped him. Alas, he slips further away every day," he finished with a forced sentiment to his voice.

"I offer you my condolences. We have come in search of a young woman. It is widely known that you fancy her and thought perhaps she were here," Rothan said.

"I know not of whom you speak," Rayven said casually grazing his trimmed fingernails over the suede of his tunic, the smirk still evident.

Thorne stood. "You do in fact know of whom we speak, lad. She came here to barter for seed and instead was expected to give you information about me. Do you remember her now?"

The light went on behind his deep blue eyes. "Aye, I do. Beautiful as the sunrise was she...and graceful as a swan. Too bad she is merely a peasant. She would make a fine wife. Although, she needs some training up, for she sports a big mouth and an even bigger temper."

Rothan placed a hand on Thorne's shoulder to keep him in line. "She does make a fine wife, she is my wife," Thorne began with a snarl. "She has been missing since last eve and we have reason to believe you may have brought her here. Where is she? I will search every inch of your castle if I have to, but you have no rights to her now. Hand her back to me and I will leave you peacefully."

Rayven hoped to God that his men weren't close enough to the castle to be found with her. He wasn't expecting her until the next eve. These men were only selfish sots that wanted him to believe she was married. There had never been a ceremony and his spies would have known if there had been.

"If your young woman has been missing the entire night, mayhap you should inspect the beds of all in your village. Mayhap, she has been wooed by a gentleman who doesn't take her against her will...or, mayhap she gets excited by _being_ taken against her will," he grinned.

Thorne heard it before it registered in his head as really happening...a deafening blow to the boy's handsome face, blood spraying everywhere from his mouth and nose as his head snapped violently to the right and he landed on the ground. Thorne's hands went up to prove to himself he hadn't hit the bloke. His eyes found Rothan standing above the lad nursing his hand, his eyes wild, face flushed and a bit of saliva dripping from his royal mouth.

"You are forbidden to speak of her that way, you bastard!" Rothan bellowed.

Rayven's light blue eyes dripped tears uncontrollably and anger burned within them. He began to shake and spat blood onto the floor. "Get out of my house!" he screamed and stormed from the room.

### Chapter 15

The night had been long and frightening and she hadn't slept until they had been able to disembark and take shelter in a cave on the coastline. The kind man had found her a place to sleep and struck up a weak fire that filled the cavern with smoke, but a bit of warmth. She had nearly collapsed with exhaustion from the events of her day and she forgot to thank the man.

The sunshine caused her to stir. Once awake, she wished she was able to go back to sleep and forget about waking up on the dirt floor of a cave wearing a potato sack and feeling as grimy as a slug.

There was nothing to eat for the morning meal. Aspen had taken for granted that there would always be food waiting for her when she wished it. Now her stomach cramped and grumbled angrily at her. She pulled herself up to sitting, feeling her bones protest after a few hours of sleep on the ground. She peered out into the morning sunshine and felt thankful that she was on solid ground once again and that she was alive. The sea had not claimed her again.

"We needs to go through town 'ere. If ye wants to eat today, ye better beg fer work while we's there," the mean man growled. "I needs yer hands, got to tie ye up. Can't have ye getting away, now can we?"

He tied her wrists together with rope she assumed was from the boat. It was thick and heavy and weathered and immediately chaffed her skin. She tugged on them to see if she would be able to get out of her bonds, but he tied them securely. The man started for the opening of the cave tugging her behind him. The second man followed behind her.

The sun was bright and warm and Aspen had to use her fists as shields against it. It took some time to get used to its brilliance after the cave. Once her eyes had adjusted, Aspen looked around hoping to recognize where she was. The ground was muddy on her bare feet...they were surrounded by trees, very dense, dark trees...Aspen heard no sounds save for their footfalls and a chattering squirrel that seemed to follow them through the forest. As they progressed through the foliage, the trees grew over them to block out the sun's warmth and the ground was cold causing her to shiver. It was like no place she had ever seen before and it frightened her a bit.

Aspen could not tell how much time had lapsed or even what time of day it was for the sun was not visible, but it seemed an eternity before they came to a clearing in the midst of the trees and brush. In this clearing was a small habitat. It was not exactly a village, but merely a place some people called home. There were crude shops built up and huts dotted the camp, the smell of firewood burning offered Aspen some comfort, but the smell of food being cooked made her mouth water and her stomach rumble.

The man dragging her behind him turned around exposing his rotten teeth at her. "You had best not blabber on 'bout bein' a lady. These people would cut yer tongue out fer lyin' 'fore they'd listen to ye," he said. She knew he was right. She had nothing to prove that she had a title and her appearance was a sorry one indeed. They'd all think her crazy.

The rope pulled on her hands again, hands she could not feel any longer, and they came to a shop where a round man, nearly bald, sold his provisions, mostly hunting gear and rations.

"Mornin' to ye!" the man holding the rope called out to the shopkeeper.

The man looked up to cock an eyebrow in their direction, a smile descending upon his bearded face.

"Rocky! How have ye been, man?" he grunted.

Rocky looked nervous at hearing his name and cleared his throat. "Been jus' fine, Zander. Went on an errand fer...someone, retrieving a servant," he said giving the rope a cruel tug. "Need anything done fer ye today? We needs supplies, food mostly. She works good."

The gruff man stood to his full height. He was gigantic and walked to where Aspen stood shaking and cowering before him. If she looked straight on, she saw the space on this torso between his chest and his belly button. "I might be in need of some favors," he smiled and plunged his hand beneath the potato sack to fondle her between her legs. She gasped and hopped back stepping on a rock and unable to catch herself, she fell to the muddy ground. In an instant the giant was on her pawing at her breasts with one hand and unlacing his britches with the other. She screamed in terror knowing what was about to happen and kicked her legs to move out of his way. She could hear the man holding the rope laughing and enjoying himself. Suddenly she felt a pair of strong hands beneath her lifting her to her feet.

"You cannot allow this, Rocky. She is the property of someone else. She can work, clean, chop wood for payment, but you cannot allow this," the kind man said.

Rocky sobered immediately and looked angrily at his accomplice. "Yer right there, Glade. He'd be pretty upset if she had been used by another. Sorry, Zander, much as I'd love to see ye get some wif her, I cannot let ye. Got any real work for her?"

Zander stroked his beard and an evil look passed through his features. "Aye, I'll let her scrub my floor in here till it's sparkling clean, but she gots to do it naked. I give you my word I'll not lay a hand on her, but the sack has to come off."

Rocky grinned. "Seems fair enough. It seems we have an accord," he said and shook Zander's hand.

Aspen was horrified and looked to Glade, who looked equally horrified.

"I'll not be a part of this," he mumbled and walked away.

"He always was a weak one," Rocky laughed and pulled her inside the small shop of timbers and branches.

She could tell that his wares were all outside, for inside he kept a cot and two crates with a large piece of wood over the top made a table or desk with a tree stump for a chair. In one corner he had some pit that looked to be smoking and smelled pungent and yet savory. A bucket of water was set on the floor and the bonds on her hands were loosened. She was given a scrub brush and the potato sack was removed leaving her chilled in the damp coolness of this place. Zander motioned for Rocky to sit on the stump and he himself laid down on the cot.

"Get movin', wench!" Rocky bellowed.

Aspen knelt on the floor and dipped the brush in the freezing water and bent over to wash the floor. She heard a groan from behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see Zander's britches open and he was stroking himself. Tears blurred her vision and she could not believe her fate, degradation boiled in her belly until she felt physically ill with it.

She was thankful that the hut was small and did not take her long to clean. She stood and walked to Zander, who was red in the face after gaining his release, and handed him the brush.

"You have no idea what you have just done. I'll not forget you," she said in a shaky voice retrieving her potato sack.

The door opened and Glade appeared. He caught a glimpse of Aspen dressing and knew what had just transpired. He had hoped that in reprimanding Rocky that opinions would have changed and the right decisions made. That, however, had not happened and he inwardly cursed himself for leaving her.

Glade gave Zander a piercing look. "I think she deserves a bit of coin for her services today. Rations are not worth what you have just done to her. Let her go to Miss Daisy's and have a morsel instead," he said or, rather, ordered.

Zander looked to protest and changed his mind handing Aspen three coins for her troubles. Glade gave her directions to Miss Daisy's and told her to enjoy herself and eat well. She let her eyes stray to Rocky who sat staring unsure of what to say. He made no move to bind her again, so she left the hut.

Miss Daisy's house was up in the trees. Aspen walked up the winding staircase around the tree trunk until she came to the door. She did not even have to knock and the door was opened for her. A woman dressed in black wool with red hair like autumn leaves stood before her. Her eyes were an odd cross between green and brown, and her smile was full of welcome. She motioned Aspen inside and she instantly knew why this woman was called Miss Daisy. The entire forest was too dark to grow wildflowers and yet a miracle grew inside of her abode...daisies by the hundreds sat in clay vases and paintings lined the walls. It was cheerful and inviting, a far cry from the horrid hut she had just been in.

"Would ye like a bite to eat, miss?" the woman asked.

Aspen extended her hand to offer the gold she held. "I'd like whatever this will get me," she replied.

"Me name's Daisy. What is yours?" she queried.

"I am Aspen," was all she said.

"Come, sit, Aspen. I'll whip something up for ye."

Aspen took a seat on a sofa that felt soft as feathers.

"Who be at the door, Daisy?" a frail voice floated on the air.

"'Tis a girl wanting a meal. She be waiting in the parlor," Daisy said.

Aspen heard shuffling and as the sound grew closer, she recognized it as a pair of old feet on the wood of the floor. She looked at the doorway seeing an old, no, ancient, woman before her. The woman's hand fluttered at her chest and Aspen thought she might faint. She jumped to her feet to assist the old woman.

"Who are you, girl? What is your given name?" the old hag whispered narrowing her eyes.

Aspen swallowed. "Aspen. My name is Aspen."

"I said your given name, child. Surely there is more to your name than that."

Aspen stared hard at the white hairs sprouting from the woman's chin. "Uh, Aspen Morjean Tiller."

The woman sucked in her breath at the revelation. "You are noble, are you not? You have a strong aura about you. It says you are a noble woman...but you were not born thus, were you?"

"I am the Countess of Cliffehaven. I am married to Lord Darktower. The king had titled me a Baroness for my birthday just past and encouraged the earl and I to marry in secret. But I was not born a noble, no," she replied, thinking the old woman's questions odd.

"May I see your hands?" the crone asked clasping her hands before her like a child wishing for a sweetmeat.

Aspen nervously extended her hands. "Why do you wish to see my hands?"

"Hands tell the story of your life. The hand you write with is your future story and the other is the story of your past. Fascinating, really, that all hands are so different and so many things can be told from them."

"What do you see in my hands, Madame?" Aspen asked anxiously.

The old crone looked down her sloping nose and pursed her thin lips together in concentration. She ran her claw like fingers over the skin of Aspen's palms and furrowed her brow from time to time.

"I see a powerful woman in my midst. You have endured many things in your short lifetime and those things have made you stronger. However, I see many more tribulations in your future. Your father is alive, but your mother has passed..." her voice faltered then but she quickly recovered. "Is this true?" she asked raising emerald orbs to Aspen's face.

For a moment she felt something familiar in those eyes and she was spellbound and tongue-tied. Finally, she managed, "Yes Madame, 'tis true. I know not where my father is, but my mother has passed, very recently, actually. What do they call you? You know my name..."

"I am Morjean. Lyndsay was my daughter," the woman replied with tears shining in her eyes, eyes that were mirrors of Aspen's.

Aspen's breath failed her. She stared at this woman, at the lines etched in her face searching for a resemblance, but beneath the soft, aged skin and gray hair, she found little except the woman's eyes. She had her grandmother's eyes. "That would make you my grandmother. I was named for you."

"She died a wrongful death, didn't she?" Morjean sighed.

Aspen stared at her hands as the memories and the pain of letting her mother go flooded her again. She nodded her head solemnly. "Aye, she was murdered by my own maid. The plot is an odd one, one that I don't even understand. She sacrificed so much for me...and my brother and sister...can you tell me where Kendric and Monica are?"

Morjean studied her hands again and shook her silver locks to and fro. "I cannot tell you where they are, but I can tell you they are alive. Stand for me and walk the room."

Aspen thought this an odd request, but did as she was told.

A smile brightened the woman's face briefly. "Your aura is so strong, but as you walk, I can make out two. You have an angel on your shoulder. My guess is that angel is your mother. Come this way..." Morjean placed a hand over the small of her belly. "You are with child," she said grasping her hand once again. "You will birth a son in early spring. I see many children born to you or taken into your life by love. And here," she said pointing at two lines that crossed forming an X, "this shows that you are intuitive. You are a seer, like me. Your life will be long and plentiful and I see three loves in your life. You are capable of deep affection and show great compassion."

Aspen's head was spinning. She was carrying a child inside of her this moment and never knew. Of course, the old woman could be half cracked and insane. "I need your help to escape the men that hold me prisoner. Will you help me?"

Morjean looked to be battling with herself. "I cannot interfere with the fates. You were meant to get through this in order to be the leader you will become. I will feed you well and send you on your way and you will keep your coin. That is the only way I can help you," she said.

Pain invaded Aspen's features at the thought of enduring more of what had happened earlier. "I fear they will kill me. Please, you must help me!" she cried.

"They will not kill you, child. But the things that happen to us form our character. You will survive this and be a better person for it. If I take this from you, we will both hurt in the end. We will cross paths again, I can feel it," she answered drying Aspen's tears.

Aspen looked at Morjean as a lonely tear fell from an emerald eye, her voice sounding foreign and thick with emotion. "Why do I not know you? If you are my mother's mother, why have I never seen you before in my life?" she asked.

Morjean's chin trembled as the past haunted her again. "I knew what she was about to do and tried to alter the fates because of my own selfishness. The aura around the man who calls himself your father was dark and foul. I hated him and wanted Lyndsay to find another. It ended in shouts and hurtful words and I never saw her again...I couldn't make things right again. I wanted so much better for her. Dear child, there are so many other things you do not know."

Aspen cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes, "Like what?"

"I do not wish to talk of these things now. But, I know about your life, how you came to be...who you have become. I have seen you in visions, as I have seen your mother. You have seen me as well, just beyond your sight in the shadows of your mind. You need to be shown how to use your abilities, but now is not the time. You know where I am now...you know who I am. Little Harbour. Remember Little Harbour."

"No! I want to know everything right now! I do not wish to leave you. I have all these questions in my head. Do not turn me away!" Aspen shrieked.

The old woman stood and shook her head at her, stooping from the weight upon her shoulders...a lifetime of weight. Miss Daisy brought her a trencher of hot stew full of venison, potatoes, rice, and carrots along with many other tasty foods. It was the best she had ever tasted. Her mouth watered as she smelled the rich aromas and wasted no time devouring it. She licked the tips of each finger still thinking of Morjean and what she had revealed to her and even more of what she would not reveal to her.

The old woman appeared again. "They come for you, dear. I assure you, you will be safe. The taller man is a good one, a man of conscience. Stay to his right hand for shelter," she said reaching out for Aspen and pulling her close in an embrace. "You are noble born, remember that," she whispered.

This old woman covered her like a warm blanket with her love. Aspen felt a calm come over her and mustered up the strength to go on. She pulled away from Morjean just before Rocky threw open the door calling for her.

"Time to go, pumpkin!" he sang out.

"Get gone, ye black hearted pirate!" Morjean yelled at him shooing him out her door with Aspen in tow. "The young lady's welcome anytime, but you are not!" She looked like a banshee flailing her arms about and the breeze catching her full, drooping sleeves in the doorway. Aspen could hear Rocky chuckle knowing he could get a rise out of her. The door slammed shut, she was on her own again.

The walk back to the cave was long in the warm afternoon sun, the rain evaporating into a sticky humidity all around them. Shadows were long when they reached the mouth of the stone shelter and Rocky was complaining of hunger. Glade never said a word, but there was something hidden in the depths of his eyes that he did not want to disclose. Aspen remembered what Morjean had said about him and found that she had already known that he was a good man. Keep to his right, she reminded herself. She also pondered the information she was given upon her departure. How could she possibly be a noble by birth? Her father was a farmer, thus given the name Tiller. Her mother was a witch's daughter, a seer. Perhaps it was all a mind trick, to make her believe in something enough to give her strength.

Glade sat on his haunches and offered her a share of his own rations. Aspen politely declined still feeling very full from her midday at Miss Daisy's.

"I am sorry about what happened today," he whispered.

"As am I, but I never..." she broke off before telling him of her grandmother.

"Never what?"

"It matters not, I did not enjoy myself in the least but I am alive. That is what matters, right?"

"I suppose so," he shrugged. "I promise you that I will let nothing else happen to you, my lady."

He struck a chord in her heart when he acknowledged her station. He respected her even though she looked like an urchin.

"Where are we going, Glade?" she asked.

"I cannot say. But I will return your valuables before we part ways," he whispered fingering the pouch at his side.

"How can I ever thank you enough for your compassion?"

Glade's head bowed and his words were almost inaudible. "Just remember me, my lady," was all he said and walked away from her.

As the night air chilled, Aspen moved next to the fire where she opened her right hand and stared at the lines on her palm. Morjean had said she was a seer...she thought to herself tracing the Cross of Intuition that had been pointed out to her. In the light of the dancing flames of the fire, she imagined herself powerful, steeping tea just to read the leaves in the bottom of the cup. She would remember every enemy and every hero and reward them, each as they deserved.

Aspen woke to sunshine once again and found she had fallen asleep by the fire and had fallen over against the wall where Glade must have covered her with his blanket. Tendrils of smoke curled up out of the smoldering coals and she hoped it was time to go, to press on to the final destination.

*******

Rayven managed to pull himself to a sitting position and swiped the back of his youthful hand across his mouth revealing a bit of blood. If it had been any other man, he would have stood and knocked the life from him, but this man was his king and he did not wish to hang in the streets for striking him. Laughter bubbled forth from his gut.

"She has you all so fooled!" he laughed. "She is as peasants are. Despite her loveliness, she is still that," he hoped they would believe him.

"On the contrary, she is a baroness and a countess and it would serve you well to remember that!" the king ranted.

"I think it is time to say our good-byes and I must ask you to leave my home. I wish to see my father and you have wasted my time with your endless babble. Good day to you, gentlemen. Your majesty," he added with a bow and removed himself.

"I think we should search the castle. I want her found today!" Thorne said crashing a fist into his hand.

"She is not here yet, lad. I could tell from his demeanor. She couldn't be here with him acting so calm," Rothan said.

"He is covering something, I can feel it," Thorne replied.

"Aye, of that I have no doubts, but I think he knew you would come for her. I think we should patrol the roadways into the village and thus find her on her way in," Rothan said.

Thorne thought about it and nodded his agreement. "Let us meet the others back at the house and make our plan."

The men fell into a line and marched out the way they had been brought in, all the while memorizing turns and corridors, markings and décor in the event they had to return and storm the castle for Aspen.

Rayven held a cloth to his mouth and motioned to his captain to come hither. "The man with the red beard is Darktower's captain of the guard. Make certain he does not see the sunset this eve," he said low and quiet. The captain swallowed and bowed his allegiance. Rayven smiled. He knew that to bring down a brick wall, you must remove the bricks in the middle and the structure would fall.

Thorne and his men rounded the hillside and slowed their steeds to a trot as they splashed through the creek and on to the Tiller's place. Thorne swore he could hear Aspen's youthful laughter on the wind as they approached. The homestead was a sorry place now, the barn roof was crumbling in on itself, the small home crawling with vermin and coated in dust. Long had it been since it had seen Lyndsay's broom or hugged the family within its walls. Thorne thought suddenly that this had been the only home Aspen had ever known. One room to be shared by all, she was birthed here and grew to womanhood to become an angel to all who knew her. A tear gathered at the corner of his eye and he stubbornly dismissed it. He would find her, but there were things to do and plans to make. There was no time for tears.

Nearly in unison the men dismounted their horses and took the reins to tend the beasts in the dilapidated barn. Thorne thought he heard something behind them and turned as a feathered arrow narrowly missed his chest striking the barn wall. Panic gripped him as he screamed for reinforcements to come to arms. Every man in the company raced to Thorne's side, their swords highly polished and ready for a battle they thought was far off. Cappy pulled the arrow from the wall and studied it as another whistled by grazing his shoulder. The men had their eye on the place in the brush where the attack was originating and in one cry, the men leapt to defense as one cavalry, Rothan hanging back to tend Cappy and his wound.

Thorne could hear nothing but the pounding of his boots against the drying earth and the shouts of anger bleating forth from the pit of all his courage. His heart beat and adrenalin bore him faster on his legs. He felt exhilarated and alive, protecting those he loved from death. They entered the brush stabbing and slicing at the foliage to find the ones responsible for the attack. Thorne had not held his sword in battle in all his life, only in practice, but he felt it mold to his fingers, the cold steel grew warm under his touch adding strength where before, there was none.

Two men jumped from their hiding and ran as if the devil was after them, which stories would later recount that in fact, Thorne could have been possessed by Lucifer himself the way he ran after them and engaged them in melee combat. One man was merely an archer and held no sword. The other was skilled with his blade and kept Thorne on his toes. The first man died easily beneath this blade of his father, the second fought back with all the fury and intensity of a warrior. Thorne held himself tall and swung with all his might as he struck the man's sword in a clang loud as the church bells on the Sabbath morn, the vibrations of repeated strikes making his hands and arms void of feeling until he thought he could not go on. They had met panting, one blade pushing against the other, faces inches apart and teeth grinding with exertion when the man smiled at Thorne.

"Your bonny lass will not be seeing you again, my friend," he snarled.

What happened then was magic, surely, for Aspen's voice flooded his ears and her touch covered his body and her breath filled his lungs until he was completely consumed by her. The man spun a maneuver with his sword above his head and without thinking, Thorne yelled out and struck with a blow of his own slashing the man's belly open, blood raining on him like the tears of the devil. The man's face was one of surprise and, perhaps, relief. Thorne fell to his knees thanking God for sparing him and asking for forgiveness for taking this man's life. When he looked around him, he saw his men staring in awe at what had just happened. He tried to rise to his feet and found his legs were naught but jelly and his breath came in gulps. He looked to the great silver rapier lying across his lap to see it stained by the blood of a man as mortal as he. It very well could have been him falling dead in the dirt with only contempt surrounding him. He shook his head...but it wasn't him and it wouldn't be him.

"Gather him up and send him back on his horse, the other one too," he panted. Using his weapon as a crutch of sorts, he found the strength to stand and made his way back to the shack hoping his captain was well.

*******

Aspen sought out the sun to see how late the day was getting, her legs tired and feet sore. She could smell herself and wanted to vomit at her filth. She was bound once again and the ground beneath her feet was growing hard and dry after the summer storm, sticks and rocks surely cutting into her flesh with every step. They hadn't fed her before they set out, nor had she a drink. Fatigue was beginning to make her head swim and her body tremble. When she tripped and fell, Rocky just dragged her along until she scrambled back upright, a crooked smile satisfying his mouth. Glade had gone ahead to watch for those who would be looking for her. Aspen glanced at her hands to find blood oozing beneath her bonds. They felt slippery and she moved her fists back and forth to slide from them, but it only made the bleeding worse.

The sun was low in the sky when Aspen spied a familiar sight ahead of her. It was the gates to Rosehill! She could seek out someone she knew to help her get away! Her view became obstructed and she had not realized that Rocky had stopped until she smashed into his backside.

"See wha' I mean? She's daft! We's just passin' frough...need a bit o' food we does."

"What is your destination?" a large man demanded.

"Me wha'? Oh! Where's we headed? I 'ave orders to bring this urchin to the Isolate. We's got long ways to go."

Aspen tried to speak but she was so thirsty and her tongue seemed too large for her mouth and she found herself mumbling. She fidgeted with her bonds more and was met with a slap across the face. It stung her into sitting on the ground staring at the blood on her arms.

"If ye wasn't so bloody crazy, I'd not 'ave to tie ye up, wench!" he growled.

"Thorne," she moaned as her eyes filled to overflowing with tears.

The man looked at her with pity. He had hoped he had found the girl they were looking for, but this loon couldn't be her. She just cried there saying "torn, torn" over and over, obviously wanting to be freed of her rope that was tearing her skin. He could see the blood soaking the bonds and her feet were a mess, her hair was matted and the burlap she wore stunk. She was delirious and insane and a girl like her belonged in the Isolate, it was sad but true. He let them pass and told the man to hurry through. She looked at him as she passed through the gate, her eyes red and swollen from crying and her lips cracked and bleeding, begging him for something he could not understand.

She had to be drug a bit through the village when her head swam and colors began to disappear, images distorted and in the heat of the setting sun, consciousness abandoned her and she allowed the darkness to swallow her up again but this time she welcomed it. She felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing. It was peaceful and she wanted never to see the sunshine again.

She found that it was hard to swallow as a soft groan escaped her. The world of the living had not let go of her yet. She let out a disgruntled sigh at her misfortune and tried to force her eyes to open and then to focus. It felt as though sand had been thrown in her face and she blinked repeatedly to wash away the granules. Her hands felt heavy as she lifted them to find clean bandages covering her wounds. She noticed that there were deep green draperies of velvet closing her in a plush bed with many pillows, and she was dressed in a white gown that gathered itself at her chest and wrists, the sleeves trimmed with very fine lace. Surprised, she sat upright making her head swim once again but realizing the locks of her hair that fell over her shoulder were soft and clean. Where was she? Was she with a physician to be looked after? Did some soul see her and rescue her from Rocky?

"Hello?" she tried to call out and instead sounded like a toad. She slumped back against the pillows feeling so exhausted. She was so thirsty it hurt.

The draperies parted and she gasped in surprise when she beheld Rayven standing before her extending her a cup of drink.

He smiled and his eyes twinkled at her. "There now, you look so much more the thing, my dear," said he.

Aspen knew a moment of panic and found it hard to breathe, mostly because she was holding her breath, but also because she was so shocked to see him. Finally, she let go of the gasp and managed, "Where am I?"

"You are safe at last, in my home where you belong. Here, drink your fill. You must be thirsty," he soothed smoothing her hair.

"I need to return to my husband," she said sipping the water.

A muscle in Rayven's jaw jumped at her words. "My dear, you have been through so much. I am so sorry you are having a hard time distinguishing dreams from reality. Your home is here and your place is beside me. I am so glad you are awake now, for father wishes to speak with you," he said with a smile that did not touch his eyes.

She stared in disbelief and told herself he was doing this to make her think she really was crazy and forget about Thorne. But she was not a crackpot! She hadn't dreamed all that had happened these last few months...had she? It suddenly all seemed so far away and hazy, like a fairy tale spun at bedtime as a child.

"Drink, darling," Rayven urged pushing the cup to her lips. She did as she was instructed, quenching her parched throat. She could still feel the sun hot on her face, the sweat beading on her brow, the ropes binding her hands. She had the wounds to prove she was not crazy.

"How did I get these wounds, my lord?" she asked knowing the flattery would do her good.

Rayven was silent a moment, she could see the wheels turning in his head. "You disappeared. The physicians told us that you were having problems in the head and wandered off. I sent hunters to find you and when they did, you were without clothing. They did the best they could in finding a covering for you and bound you because you were like a caged animal and ran from them time and again. It is amazing they brought you back to me in one piece," he lied.

Her chin raised as she looked him in the eyes, hauntingly cool eyes, and said, "I believe you not."

She saw how his mouth tightened and the fire burned in his eyes, but failed to see the open palm that slapped her cheek making her spill her water in her lap.

"You must refrain from calling me a liar, my love," he said thick as honey. "In time, you will learn again and it will be as it was. I only hope I have the patience to help you. You will bathe and dress and I will see that you speak with my father. He isn't well, you know. He is worse off than before you disappeared. I think it has been his worry for you that is causing his health to fail. Perhaps he will improve when he sees that you are back." He left the room and servants rushed in and began preparations for a bath.

He sounded so very convincing that she marveled at his ability to make people believe what he wanted them to. Perhaps that was what would make him a great leader...perhaps not.

A girl very close to Aspen's age bobbed in dressed in a drab gray gown with a white cap holding her hair up. The girl kept her eyes on the floor, tight lipped and sad looking. She looked familiar to Aspen, but she couldn't see her features well enough to tell who she was.

"Good morning, my lady," she all but whispered. "I'll be your lady's maid, call on me if you need me. His lordship requests you bathe and dress for an audience with his father. The tub has been readied for you, I'll assist you."

"Look at me, what is your name?" Aspen asked. The girl raised her eyes reluctantly and met Aspen's gaze. Each could feel their eyes widen in surprise when they realized... "Jennessa?" Aspen asked not believing what she was seeing.

"Aspen? Is that you?" Jennessa answered with questions of her own.

"Aye, it is. I have missed you so!" she exclaimed.

"Where have you been? We all wondered why you never came around after the day at the castle. I have worried that your father killed you and was trying to cover it up. I am so happy to see you! His lordship told me I would be attending his new wife...I never thought it would be you!"

"Jennessa, am I really his wife?" Aspen asked to clear her confusion.

"Don't you know? I mean, you were there, were you not?" she nearly laughed.

Aspen pressed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut trying to separate reality from deception. She just could not remember.

"I cannot remember. I mean, I remember things but I cannot tell if I had just dreamed them or not," she sighed.

"Are they happy things to remember?" Jennessa asked taking her hand.

A smile danced on Aspen's lips. "Aye, there were some very happy things. I am sorry I woke up, I would rather live in my dreams."

"His lordship will be back for you and we have not even gotten you in the bath. Hurry!" Jennessa coaxed flinging back the blankets and the draperies.

The servants filling the massive tub had vacated the room. She could smell roses rising from the water with the steam, curling around her and caressing her with unseen petals. Jennessa removed her bandages.

"What happened to you? This looks horrible!" she asked with her pretty brow furrowed in concern.

"I wish I could tell you. I will, however, tell you what I do remember," she said and recounted all that she could remember of Rocky and Glade, omitting the story of meeting her grandmother. The end of that adventure came and Aspen rinsed her hair free of the rose scented soap. Feelings of panic invaded her as she went under the water and she could see the blackness of the ocean and the invisible hands pulling her down to the bottom and she came up out of the tub sputtering. Jennessa was worried...there was more going on here than she knew, but she would find out what she needed to know and help her best friend.

*******

Thorne paced the wood floor of the homestead listening to the rhythmic creak of his weight. His men sat on the small bit of furnishings the home supported and simply stared at him. They all felt a new sense of respect for this man and his cause. It was not a respect out of fear as it had always been, but a respect for a soldier protecting what he held dear to him. Cappy sat propped against the rock fireplace watching the shadows dance in the firelight. Thorne was inclined to skip the matter of a fire, revealing their presence to the enemy, but Thorne wanted to be rid of St. Michael once and for all...he could kill every last warrior he had until he was left with none to protect him. Let them come, he thought.

"Who has anything to report?" he asked the crowd.

The men looked one to the other not willing to give information if it was not relevant.

"All right, did anyone see a young woman and a man enter the village?" Thorne bellowed.

One of the king's men stood. Thorne's heart sank. The man swallowed hard afraid of what he was about to say for thinking back, it very well could have been the girl they were searching for.

"I stopped a man dragging a girl by a rope. She wore burlap, nothing else. Her hair was matted and she was dirty and stank. The man told me he was passing through on their way to the Isolate where he was to commit her. She couldn't hardly talk and she was bleeding from her wrists and her feet. I swear I didn't think it was her...if it was," he added quickly.

Thorne was on him in a flash fast as lightning. "Where was your watch, man?"

The man stuttered about the subject and finally told him he was at the northern gate.

"I didn't really think they would be coming from the north! It is such a long way out of their way!" the man cried in his own defense.

"Perhaps that was his plan all along! Have you not thought about the fact that this villain is slippery? He is smart and has been planning this for quite some time!" Thorne yelled.

Rothan stood, smoothing his tunic with a bejeweled hand and took a deep breath. "The village has shut its doors by this hour. There is not much we can do until the morn. When the sun rises, we will find this man and question him. The one who lays his hands on him first will bring him here and bind and gag him. We will all retreat back here at midday and I pray to God the bastard is here. I will spill a bit of his blood for her," he growled.

It wasn't hard for the soldier to describe the rough seaman. A man like him should stand out like a nag about stallions. They decided who was on watch, Thorne volunteering the first watch along with two other men from his own company.

The air outside was still and humid from the storm. Darkness was upon them, the critters of the land were chatting their good nights and the crickets began their song. Thorne could hear the running creek not far from the homestead and he pulled forth a pipe that had belonged to his father's father as he sat himself on a large stone by the house. He carefully tapped the tobacco into the belly of the pipe and lit it up, puffing on it tentatively, his thoughts wandering to another time when it seemed life was finally beginning for him. He thought of how Aspen had floated into the clearing in the woods and married him wearing his mother's gown and carrying those delightful daisies. He remembered how his family's brooch had sparkled in the moonlight and the look of pure pleasure on her face at giving him the gift and butterflies fluttered in his belly. He reminisced about taking her to the willow and making love to her in the wild and a lone tear formed in the corner of his eye. He closed his eyes taking a drag off the pipe and he could feel her skin against him and could smell her scent and longed to hold her tight once more. If he only had one more moment with her, he would make it count. He would be sure to tell her he loved her. He wondered what she was doing at that moment, who it was in her company and what she was saying with her beautiful mouth...and was she thinking of him?

*******

It hit her suddenly from out of nowhere, a recollection...a memory of someone she knew very well. She could hear his voice coming to her from far away in the dark corners of her mind, she could feel a warmth come over her skin as if hands were exploring her body, she could feel the tickling of his long hair brushing against her face. Her hand stole to her mouth as his lips caressed hers and she swallowed hard.

Jennessa watched Aspen as she looked to be in another time, another place and knew she was trying to remember something...or someone. She began to brush Aspen's hair again hoping her friend would open up to her and her own mind spun trying to formulate a plan to help her escape to wherever it was she came from.

Once her hair had been dressed and her wounds had been tended to again, Jennessa helped her into her gown, a modest dress of blue satin that laced up the bodice and a voluminous blouse of white was worn beneath, gathered at the chest and wrists and simple black slippers adorned her feet. There was something about the color of blue that hit Aspen as familiar and she stared at herself in the looking glass trying desperately to remember the significance of the color. Her fingers played around her neck for she felt she was missing a jewel. It must have been the color of the gown, but the harder she tried to think of it and see it, the further away it drew from her.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts and Jennessa bowed and took her leave as Rayven entered. He smiled at her with love shining in his eyes that were the color of her gown. She felt as though there were someone else with eyes very much the same, someone other than Rayven.

"You look stunning, my love," he said looping his arm with hers. "Come, my father awaits you. He is so close to death but he wants to talk to you before he gives up the ghost."

Aspen shivered at his touch. It wasn't warm and tender as the man's in her reverie, but hard and cold...unfeeling. She felt in her heart of hearts that she did not know him the way he said she did. Her slippers tapped on the stone floor as she carefully limped along on her raw feet and not another sound could be heard. The sun was nearly spent for the day, she noted glancing out of a slender window. She felt oddly out of place like an intruder, someone who should be peering in from outside. She did not know any of these people nor did she know what was said to be her home.

They arrived at the closed door and Aspen was very anxious in entering. The room smelled of death as the door swung open and the way the stale air choked her was almost unbearable, but Rayven pressed her on with a hand on her back. She looked at him and smiled weakly, feeling her face drain of all color, and entered the dismal place. She could feel a presence here that was unkind, a presence waiting to take Wilford's hand and most likely lead him to Hell. The tremendous canopied bed of oak stood on a dais in the very center of the room, tables around the perimeter burned candles for light casting the bed into the shadows for the light of the flames could not reach him. Tapestries hung on every wall in vibrant colors and thick hangings covered each window closing him off from the world outside. Aspen spied Rayven's mother lingering in a corner embroidering a cloth and a physician pulled the last leech from the man's shrunken body, wiping the blood from Wilford's arm. Aspen's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise. As she neared the bed tears came to her eyes at the sight of such a powerful man being reduced to this weak and nearly delirious shell. She sat on the stool beside the bed and took the old man's hand in hers.

"You are warm," he mumbled turning his hollow eyes at her. "Look how beautiful."

"I am here, my lord," she whispered not daring to trust her voice.

"You are Lyndsay's girl, are you not?" he asked.

"I am," she answered curious.

"You look just like her, except for my sister's dark hair," he smiled.

"Yes, I..." she stopped short at the revelation. "What did you say?" she asked.

Wilford smiled at her briefly as if it took every ounce of strength he had to manage it. "You are my daughter and now you have joined with my son to make a pure bloodline. You must bear him a son, child," he broke into a fit of coughing and could not rest again until blood came pouring from his mouth and nose like vomit. She knew what was happening to him.

"You are mistaken, my lord. I have a father and I know that I do not belong here. I can't remember where I do belong, but I know it isn't here. Please accept my apologies, but I must know what has happened here," she stammered rising until she was tugged to her seat once again by Wilford.

"It was a bit of trickery I am ashamed of, but you are my child. The animosity of your father was because he knew the truth. He hated you because he hated me. I can't blame him a bit...I was a bastard. You do belong here with Rayven to make this place as the Garden of Eden to my tenants. I hope for you to have many children, but bear a son within the year.

Your accident was unfortunate, I have heard you cannot remember anything, but it will come back to you and if it doesn't, you can start anew and make new memories with your family," he rambled.

"My lord, when did you become ill?" she asked to change the subject.

"I cannot remember, it seems so long ago that I felt well," he chuckled.

Aspen called out to the physician. "A fortnight or more," he replied.

"I know what plagues him. I went through it myself..." she lost herself in thought as a memory of lying helpless in her bed vomiting and sleeping passed before her eyes, the shaking and trembling making her shudder. "Poison," she whispered wistfully. She stood and felt as though she were screaming, "Don't you all see that he is being poisoned?"

"It cannot be, for we have specially prepared his food for him and he continued to deteriorate, my dear," the doctor consoled.

"I feel that Aspen must take to her bed again. It has been a long day for her," Rayven said stepping up to her and taking her arm.

Aspen tried to shake him off, but his hold was firm.

"The water!" she cried as she was drug from the room. "This is not fair! He shouldn't die this way!"

Once outside the door Rayven stood her on her feet and slapped her face hard and she began to cry. "Keep your bloody mouth shut or I'll beat you next time," he snarled.

"It is nothing I'm not used to, Rayven," she growled back at him.

He grabbed her then and threw her over his shoulder to deposit her in her room where she belonged. She would not be leaving her room for the duration of her stay. Rayven could not allow this girl to interfere with his affairs. Women were to stay quiet and follow orders as his own mother had for as long as he could remember. If she could not behave, he would simply lock her away.

*******

Jennessa rushed through the service corridors gathering candles and matchsticks to light her lady's chambers before she returned. She opened the door to the storeroom and before she knew it, a strong hand reached out and pulled her inside. The door slammed shut and a matchstick came to life, lighting the small room and the mysterious man in front of her.

"Where does Lady Aspen sleep?" he asked gruffly.

Shock still marred her pretty face making her all the more appealing to the man. "I-I..." she stuttered.

"Are you not her maid?"

"I am her maid, sir. Who, may I ask, are you?" she countered once she had overcome her surprise.

"Consider me a friend. I must get to her, for there is a terrible plot unfolding and she is to be the very center of it all. She does not belong here, she belongs in Cliffehaven with her husband. I know not how St. Michael keeps her here, but I have a few of her belongings," he explained.

"You could be a murderer, for all I know, and she is my best friend. I cannot put her in harm's way. Give me her belongings and I will see that she gets them. She can remember nothing of where she has been and I have few answers for her. I did not know she was married to another man. She has been told that she is married to Rayven St. Michael. She cannot remember anything and so she believes them."

"Ask her about Thorne when you are alone. She must not stay here...we must help her escape. Talk to her about Cliffehaven and even mention King Rothan and see if she can remember some shred of her recent past. Evil is being spun all around us and we must save her, for she cannot save herself. St. Michael is giving her something that is inducing her memory loss. We must find out what it is and stop her from taking it. Meet me back here on the morrow as the morning meal commences and we can share the information we find," he nearly whispered.

Something about this man took Jennessa's breath away and she nodded her agreement. "What is your name?" she asked as he blew the flame into smoke. She could no longer see him but he answered.

"They call me Glade. And what do you answer to?"

"Jennessa. I am Jennessa," she answered.

### Chapter 16

Aspen used her fists to beat on Rayven's back shrieking like a spirit brought back from the dead. Rayven threw open her door and heaved her down upon her bed. Her hair came unfastened fanning about her head, her innocence making him instantly hard with lust for her. She could see the wild look in his eyes and scrambled to get away from him...put some safe distance between them. He would not let her get away; he grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him, her skirts pinned beneath her showing him her shapely legs. He pushed her down watching her breasts rise and fall in panic...he reveled in it, and lowered himself upon her pushing his manhood against her thigh so she knew what was about to happen. He let his mouth be consumed by her as their lips touched and her fragrance invaded his senses and he knew nothing but the feel of her skin and the need to plow her belly and plant his seed within her.

She pushed against his shoulders to make him stop, trying to escape him wanting so badly to scream if she could only remove his mouth from hers. He made her want to vomit he was so cold and void of any goodness. He seemed to suck the very life from her, like she shriveled and died a bit with every touch...every word...every look. He may have very well been the devil, a devil from a frozen Hell. Strength found her at last as the door opened revealing Jennessa, who gasped and dropped the candles and other toiletries she had collected, and Aspen brought her knee between Rayven's legs connecting soundly with his male anatomy. His eyes glazed over and his breathing stopped for a time until a small leak of a squeal left his mouth and he rolled off of her. She scrambled to get up to find a place to hide...she did not belong here. Suddenly she was yanked by the hair on her head back to the bed, Jennessa was dismissed very rudely and Aspen knew nothing besides the feel of fists connecting with her face and instinctively she curled up feeling the familiar sensations of her childhood.

"You will be a lady and keep your mouth closed! You--will--obey--me!" he bellowed. Aspen heard his boots hit the stones of the floor before she realized he was finished throwing his fists about. She stayed still, afraid to even breathe. "You belong with me, Aspen. You are my half-sister, we share our father's blood and together we will keep our bloodline strong. Any day now and I will have complete control over Rosehill and I will need an heir to carry on in the case of my death. I demand that you spread your legs for me and let me do my duty!"

Aspen could feel her stomach turn and she thought she would be sick but then a knock on her door disrupted his ranting. She heard him step to the door and heard it groan slightly on its hinges as he opened it.

"My lord, you are needed in your father's quarters immediately," an unfamiliar voice said.

"I will be there shortly. I must finish with my wife," Rayven stated. The door closed and his footfalls came nearer again. Aspen squeezed her eyes shut tight expecting more violence, but he sat upon her bed and stroked her hair that was now knotted and very askew. He bent to her ear and pushed a tendril away whispering, "I will have a morsel brought up to you. Do not leave your room and think hard on what I have just told you. I will see you in the morn, my love."

She felt him leave the room and upon hearing the door close once again, she sat up nursing her sore places and trying to smooth her hair. She stared at the ceiling with tears of aguish in her eyes. She had not felt so hopeless when she had first woken. Was she really married to this man? How could she have done such a thing?

Jennessa carefully opened the door and began picking up the candles and such that she had dropped. She saw Rayven take his leave and wanted the opportunity to talk to Aspen herself.

Aspen was aware that Jennessa was there but she had so many questions in her mind that she could not think of a single one to ask. She felt a hand on her shoulder and her eyes shifted to Jennessa's face. She was such a pretty girl, Aspen wondered why she took to working here for such a scoundrel.

"Are you all right? Do you need me to get you anything?" Jennessa asked her knowing what had just happened. She remembered the same look on Aspen's face after her father would take her into the barn and beat her sound. Aspen's eyes would be unfocused and far away, her expression vacant. Aspen did not answer her, but turned her eyes back to the ceiling as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Jennessa pulled a cloth from her pocket and wiped it away. "Aspen, I need to talk to you. It is very important. Are you hearing me?" she asked.

"I want to know what it is like in Cliffehaven. Can you tell me? Is it pretty there? Can you hear the ocean without ever leaving the house?" Jennessa asked trying to get a reaction. She reached down to take Aspen's hand. "I want to know about Thorne and I hear that you know King Rothan. What is he like?"

A flame flickered behind Aspen's eyes and she blinked as if just waking up. A feeling of warmth spread through her hearing the name Thorne and for a fleeting moment she thought a face would materialize in her memory. Just as she could almost make out the person, the vision faded away and she could not recall it.

"I thought I was remembering someone, but I lost it again," she mumbled.

"I know you do not belong here, Aspen. You live in Cliffehaven with the Lord Darktower. You are _his_ wife, not Rayven's. I am trying to get you out of here, but we need a plan. Part of this plan is going to be to warm up to Rayven so you can roam the castle at will. I have heard rumors that Lord Darktower and his men are camped at your old house. A soldier Rayven had sent out showed up here this eve on his horse, but he was dead. I must get you there and I have an ally to help us," Jennessa whispered.

"I am Rayven's sister and he still wants to lay claim to me. I was born a bastard child and raised by the hands of a monster. My life has been a lie, Jennessa. My mother swore that she did not have an affair with the earl. Upon her deathbed, she swore it was not so," Aspen revealed.

Jennessa was stunned. She could not imagine being told that news especially if she had no memory...wait! Aspen remembered the death of her mother. Jennessa knew Lyndsay did not die there in Rosehill.

"Where did your mother die? It wasn't here," Jennessa prodded.

"She died by the hand of my maid. She died in my home," Apsen said without even thinking. Suddenly, vibrant pictures formed in her head and she saw the sunlight filtering through the shutters and her mother lay in her bed resting. "Oh, dear God, I can see her in her room. She was so ill, but she was mending. I spoke with her before going to devotional and she told me about my father, or rather, the man I believed was my father. I found out later, much later that she had been smothered by...Mary that afternoon while I was out," Aspen recited.

"Where were you out to?" Jennessa pushed on.

The sound of waves crashing filled her head until she covered her ears with her hands. "I was at the sea side. I can almost feel the breeze on my face and smell the water. It reaches for me...to pull me in. But it is beautiful to behold, Jennessa. Am I seeing Cliffehaven or am I seeing a dream?"

"What happened next? Did you return home when you heard the bad news?"

"I see a shadow in front of me, blocking the setting sun. It towers over me and I hear my name. But I cannot see a face, it is so covered in shadows. This person told me...a man told me and brought me to her. She was cold and dead, but she was smiling."

Jennessa's heart could take no more. She patted Aspen's shoulder. "Let me fetch your nightrail and you can rest again."

Aspen allowed Jennessa to settle her into bed after changing her bandages and nibbling a bit on a trencher of duck stew. Not another word had been uttered between them and Aspen found herself exhausted from trying so hard to recall events that had happened to her recently. She lay down in her bed and closed her eyes wishing she would not awaken in the morn.

The darkness gave way to a light and then to another and she realized she was walking in the wooded night following the lights to a clearing with long grass and a waterfall. She saw a man dressed in white waiting there for her and she thought she was in paradise moving to an angel that would help her to heaven. She stared at his dark hair against the stark whiteness of his clothing, the breeze lightly ruffling his locks in the moonlight. There was another man there as well and she thought for a moment that he might be God. He was dressed very piously and held a book before him, probably his book of judgment. She was so happy to be there, she was free of the world and could stay in this tranquil place forever and feel no more pain. The old man with sparkling eyes looked upon them with adoration as she took the man's hand she saw his face and found it to be comforting and loving...safe. Her Thorne was there with her...

She sat upright in bed and yelled for him, she yelled for Thorne but realized then that she was alone. He wasn't there...she wasn't safe.

*******

Rayven looked on as his father exhaled for the last time and his eyes grew glassy and unseeing. It was his now. Everything that had been his father's was his now. He heard the physician pronounce him dead and his mother sobbing in her corner, the rest of his family looking at him as if he was the Reaper himself. And there was Debrin holding his bastard daughter, a wretched smile donning her face and knowledge shadowing her eyes.

"Mother, I want the ceremony to be tomorrow evening. I must take my father's place immediately and I must have the respect of a title behind my name. Oh, and please remove this filth from my presence. I do not wish for my wife to have a run in with...her."

Debrin shot him a glare sharp as daggers and as lethal as poison as she was guided away by the newly widowed lady. Rayven knew he would have to rid the household of those that would be disloyal to him and that would be...well, that would be all of them. And then, with the title of earl behind him, he could wage war against Cliffehaven and take the lands there for his own and create for himself a dynasty, a city, a great power for his king in ruling the south. Aspen was the key. If she was there, so the Lord Darktower would be as well, leaving his keep unprotected and just calling to him to take it. And that he would.

*******

Jennessa met Glade exactly where he said he would be and lit a candle. Glade pushed the hood of his cloak back revealing his face to Jennessa. He had a kind but weathered face, browned by the sun, soft brown hair and eyes that were a most brilliant color of hazel. His lips were sensual as he spoke.

"Did you speak with her?" he asked.

"Aye, I did. She remembers some things, but she cannot see Thorne's face. She says he is always in the shadows. She said nothing about the king either, but she did talk of her mother's death, which happened in Cliffehaven. She could describe her mother's chambers and the ocean. I think she is scared of the water, but she didn't say why. She only told me that it reaches for her to pull her in." Jennessa said.

A smile stole over his lips at a memory of a frightened, but spirited, girl who dove off the side of the boat and tried to swim leagues upon leagues to shore. Quickly, he sobered. "I see. Did she seem as though she recognized the names you spoke of?"

Jennessa remembered how Aspen's eyes lit up at the sound of Thorne's name. "Aye, I know she did. She says she can almost see him and he is gone again. Did you find anything out?"

"Aye, I did as well. Rayven St. Michael is slipping her a powder from a root that encourages memory loss. She has had so little that if we can keep her from getting any more, we may be able to restore her memory by asking her of things past. I know not how she is taking it, whether by drink or food...or both, I suppose. Try to bring her food when she hasn't been served, that way she will not be hungry at mealtimes and have her feign illness. If we can get her to be out for a walk, I can ride up and take her. I am a skilled rider and can get her to safety before they even know she is gone."

"He beat her last night, beat her sound. He has said she is not to leave her quarters at all and has posted a guard outside her door. He has her in the highest room he could possibly find, so the window is out of the question. I told her last night to be agreeable to gain the privilege of roaming free. If St. Michael can be lulled into a sense of security without bedding her, we have a chance. Is it true that Lord Darktower camps in the village?" Jennessa asked with hope evident in her voice.

"It is true. I will ride to him and tell him she is here without a doubt and caution him against any rash actions. I will tell him of our plans and alert him to be a distraction, but not a menace. However, I do fear that St. Michael will not let her out of his sight until the threat of Darktower is gone. Mayhap I should tell him to leave and I will rescue her and bring her to him. Now, while the castle is feasting, I have a gift for the lady and I will give it to her myself. I think I can get past the guard because I am employed by the devil himself," he said and Jennessa felt a twinge of adoration mixed with awe for this man. She wondered how he knew Aspen, but she would wait to find out.

Jennessa blew out the candle and she slipped out the door and headed straight for Aspen's quarters to be certain she was decent. On her way, she took a tray of food to give to Aspen and she would discard what had been sent up for her. Her heart raced at the thought that she could be put to death for what she was embarking on.

Jennessa was dressing Aspen's hair when the door burst open and Glade filled the space, an angry fire burning in his eyes. Aspen jumped to her feet and backed away, panic wreaking havoc on her face. Jennessa tried to grab hold of her, but she moved away too quickly.

"No," she whispered. "Go away," she gulped at the air.

"What are you doing? Why do you frighten her so?" Jennessa asked with a high tone in her voice.

Glade shut the door behind him. He walked to where Aspen stood quaking like the leaves of the Aspen tree in the breeze and he knelt on one knee before her. Shock covered Aspen's face and she told him to stand.

"I mustn't stand, my lady, for I show you my respect on bended knee. I ask for your forgiveness for my part in all of this ugly business. I know I do not deserve it, but I hope one day you can. I bring to you this gift, a peace offering. I want you to know me as a friend," he said as he held out a pouch to her, which she took in her shaking hands.

She opened it and slipped her hand within to find something most peculiar at her fingertips. She withdrew her hand to see three trinkets in her palm...a large sapphire necklace, a sapphire ring and a shiny golden band. Thoughts and jumbled memories plagued her until she looked at Glade.

"Thank you, Glade, but where did you get these?" she asked with pure innocence on her face.

A pained expression masked his face. "They were on your person the night we were paid to abduct you and bring you here. You had asked me on the boat where your jewels were and I did not want to part with such a fortune. I am so ashamed of my greed, but they are yours. Look at them and tell me of them, please." He could not stand it that she could not remember. He wanted to beat it into her head that she needed to try harder.

Her dream came back to her as she studied the gold band. It looked to be a wedding band. She slipped it over her finger to find that it fit her perfectly and Thorne's face appeared in her thoughts, so vividly in fact, that she felt him all around her, his mouth on hers, his skin on hers, the willow tree, the pond. She looked to Glade and Jennessa again with tears in her eyes. "This is my wedding band. I am married to Thorne. I can see him now...I can feel him now. Where is he? Why am I here? And this, this was a gift from Rothan, the King of Elgolan and the other is his Ring of Favour," she closed her eyes against the revelations.

Glade smiled. "I knew you would remember. I am trying to get you to safety, but it will take some time. Hide these well, but remember them upon your departure. I fear St. Michael will destroy them if he were to find them. He plans to keep you for himself and now that his father is dead..."

"What? He died? Oh, God," she whispered. A thought occurred to her. "I am related to Thorne. I can remember more, his mother was the earl's sister. I am his cousin...I am married to my cousin," she said with distaste. She knew that it was common for family to marry, but it seemed wrong and yet to think of Thorne, it seemed right. It was definitely better that being married to one's brother.

"You are but barely related, do not fret. No one ever has to know, not that anyone would care. Did you see the earl?" Glade asked.

"Aye, I did. Last night he called for me and told me he was my father. I am confused for my mother swore she had never lain with him...she swore on her death."

"The earl is as crooked as they get and he would enter homes as husbands were away and use cloths doused in ether to make the women fall asleep and then he would use their bodies like a tool to vent his frustrations. You happened to be conceived that way. It is the only explanation. The earl must have recognized something in you and wanted to clear his mind as he was dying," Glade elaborated.

"That was how I was taken. I remember now...the night of the ball. Was it you that did it?" she asked him looking down upon him. "Did you hold me and force me to breathe the fumes and then drag me away from my husband...my life?"

Regret invaded Glade's features. "Nay, it was not I. Rocky and I waited at the boat for you to be brought to us."

"Was it you that stripped me of my gown and dressed me in a burlap?" she asked.

Glade's head hung like a reprimanded dog. "Nay, 'twas Rocky who thought of that. He had hoped they would think you had drowned and would not come looking for you,"

"Did you stare at me or touch me? Did Rocky?"

Glade raised his eyes to hers pleading with her silently to let it go and when she continued to stare at him, he relented. "I admit to a peek, but Rocky fondled your breast and suckled it. I told him he would be alone in the job if he could not be decent. He stopped and decked me a good punch before he dressed you in the burlap."

Aspen saw truth in him and softened a bit in gratitude. "Thank you for stopping him. And I do forgive you and I thank you for your honesty."

"Thank you, my lady."

Aspen turned her jewels over to Jennessa. "Please find a safe place for these. I do not care to lose them."

Jennessa was happy to see this woman her friend had become. The confusion had left her for the most part and her confidence had returned. She was so very different than the last day she had seen her, the timid girl had fled and the lady had taken power.

Quickly they shared the plan and Glade promised he would meet Jennessa each morning in the closet for an update and Aspen was to play sickly and take to her bed to avoid Rayven's lust, but she needed to show a slight interest in him to gain some trust and be allowed outdoors. Then Glade opened the door and replaced his soft eyes with angry ones once again.

"It would do you well to not steal from anyone, Madame. Even if it is only three gold pieces!" he hollered back at her and slammed the door. Aspen and Jennessa looked puzzled and broke out into a fit of giggles.

Aspen was back in her bed when Rayven came in to see her. He was surprised to not see her bathed and dressed.

"What ails you this fine morn, my love?" he asked with false concern.

Aspen opened her eyes clouded with contempt. "I do not feel well, my lord," she answered.

He puffed up at the title and bent to kiss her forehead and stroke her hair. "Perhaps if you got dressed and bathed you would feel better," he urged.

"I have tried, my lord. The maid was just here and I sent her away. My head swims when I am up and my stomach lurches. I just want to stay abed today. How is your father?" she asked already knowing the answer.

"Alas, he died in the night. I will be given his title this eve and will take over his governing. I had so hoped you would be there at my side. Can you not try?" he begged.

Aspen thought about going and being able to slip away and escape, but Glade had already set his plan into motion and she would mess it all up if she strayed. "Nay, I would not want to embarrass you by vomiting on your boots."

He mulled it over in his head and realized she was right. "Very well, but make certain you rest so you will be better soon. We have so much to do together," he smiled and whisked his tongue over his lips.

Aspen was sure she would vomit if he did not leave, so she made some horrid noises and wretched a bit and sure as the cock crows, he looked disgusted and departed. Aspen could not resist burying her face in her pillow and laughing until her sides burned. Mayhap it would not be so bad being here if she could pass the time by torturing Rayven.

*******

Thorne woke with a start to a high whistle from one of his men. He sat upright on the straw tick that lay on the floor and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew the whistle was an alarm being signaled...there was an intruder. Thorne hopped from the bed and his fingers found the hilt of his sword as he ran from the house to stand with his men. It felt as though he had just lain down and closed his eyes and now he was already back up to fight off those sent by St. Michael. Sleep deprivation and the heat of the late morning made him most irritable.

Thorne could hear the pounding of hooves on the dry earth. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry. The man rounded the corner on his magnificent steed, shrouded in a cloak of darkness despite the warmth of the day. Sunbeams glinted off of the gauntlets covering his hands, which effortlessly held the reins and a white flag of peace. Thorne lowered his weapon, ordered his men to stand down and he ran to meet the man at the entrance who had him intrigued.

The man dismounted easily, he was skilled...could he be a spy? He pushed the hood of his cloak back revealing a face that was concerned but not frightened.

"Who are you?" Thorne called out to the mysterious man. When the man hesitated, Thorne drew his sword and planted his feet for a confrontation.

"They call me Glade, my lord!" the man yelled back at him when he saw the sword come out. "I come to you in peace with information of Lady Aspen!"

Thorne's sword fell at the sound of her name. His heart sped up and his breathing came fast. It felt as though years had passed already and it had only been a handful of days. Every minute that passed made him yearn for her more and this man shows up out of nowhere with information...perhaps enough to give him real hope.

"How do you know of her?" Thorne asked, again sheathing his sword and closing the distance between them.

"I have just been to speak with her. I needed to ask for her forgiveness and she granted it. I must speak with you immediately. Where can we go?" Glade asked.

Thorne motioned for Glade to follow him into the house. Rothan and Cappy joined them and Thorne shooed the other men outside, shutting the door to pour each of them a tankard of ale and taking a seat at the table. Thorne briefly thought of the first time he had walked in here and how Aspen had been so timid and sheltered, not to mention, disheveled. He thought of a real family sitting down to a meal...did they say grace? Did they speak of their day?

The sound of a man clearing his throat brought him back to the roughened table and the four mugs of ale, no food, no fire...no Aspen.

"Thorne?" Rothan asked for the third time. "Where were you just now?" he smiled.

"Nowhere, I just have so much on my mind these days. It amazes me how one small woman can turn the world upside down and not even mean to."

"Well, I have come on my own accord to inform you of a plan," Glade began and proceeded to tell them of his well thought out plan watching Thorne shake his head the whole time.

"If she is there, you can tell me exactly where she is and I will simply go in and take her back. Or you can go in and dress her as her maid...swap their places and smuggle her out. I care of nothing but her safe return. Do not sit here and tell me that she is there for the taking but I must wait to claim my own wife!" Thorne ended with a crescendo.

Rothan stood and laid a hand on Thorne's shoulder to keep his temper at bay.

"My lord, I know how hard it must be..."

A fist hit the table making the ale slosh from the mugs. "How can you know? How can you possibly know how I feel?" Thorne bellowed.

"Please, my lord. I beg you to listen to me. Really listen to me and see a new perspective. I feel a deeper and more treacherous reason for all of this is at hand and I am in a position to find it out. It may take me some time to gain the trust of St. Michael and be able to get her out, but I will do it. It would have been easier to pry information if the old earl was still alive. However, he died in the night and now his son, Rayven, will take over power. That is the worst for us right now. I will come to you in the night, when I can, without raising suspicions."

"And what of your partner? We wanted to find him in the morn. How can I possibly let him go unpunished for his part?" Thorne asked.

"Leave him be. He will get what is coming to him. You know where she is now, let me do my part to redeem myself and rescue her. Trust me when I say that she is merely the leaves on the tree, covering up the ugly plot beneath. I need you to be a distraction, a burr beneath the saddle. Stay close as a threat to Rayven," Glade said standing.

Thorne extended his hand to Glade, which Glade took willingly in the wrist-to-wrist grip of friendship and then took his leave. Thorne let out a long sigh of relief knowing Aspen was all right.

Rothan could breathe easier himself, but clapped Thorne on his back. "Try to get more sleep, boy. I will wake you if anything happens."

Thorne knew he would have to get more rest if he was to keep watch that night so he let himself fall onto the old mattress again hoping to dream of his wife.

*******

Glade was motivated more than ever to make things right again. The pain in the eyes of the lovers was almost more than he could bear...they were so close, but they couldn't be together. He held the power to reunite them and he would do just that. In one fluid movement, he flung himself upon his steed and was off toward the castle.

The horse's hooves clopped on the stones to the bailey of the St. Michael domain. Glade tossed the stable lad a gold coin and left his horse in the boy's care. He strode to the castle doors, which opened willingly for him being recognized as in the earl's employ. Around corners and through corridors he went until he came to the study where he knew Rayven spent most of his day and entered without knocking. To his surprise, the room was empty. There was a pot of tea on the desk with a single cup, which Glade dipped his finger into to find it cold. He spied a book laying open in front of the cup of tea, a pen still sat atop the pages and as he looked closer still, he recognized it as a record book. Rayven's record book! How wonderful could his luck be to find the doorway into this man's thoughts! Glade's eyes widened as he read the carefully scrawled handwriting and knew of the secret plans behind every event that had taken place. He was sick to know that he himself had been used as a marionette making it all happen for Rayven. He must stop all of the craziness before it destroyed the Darktowers and possibly even the king.

"Do you like what I have written?" asked a quiet but lethal voice beside him.

Glade thought he would come out of his skin being startled that way, but he quickly recovered and wore his cool façade once again. "It seems to be the most brilliant of plans, my lord. However did you think it up?" he said with an evil smirk.

Rayven eyed Glade with suspicion. "Things like this come easily to me. But I knew from the first moment that I saw Aspen that I would love her forever. Her presence makes my victory all the more sweet. Now, what were you doing in here reading my book?" he asked Glade.

"I came here to see you. I understand that Darktower is camped within the village and I wanted to know how you could allow that? I do not like that a bastard like him is so close," Glade lied.

"It is simple. He does not know that Aspen is here. He is waiting to see of he can find her as she comes through the gates, but they failed. She already came through looking like a beggar, thanks to you. You earned your coin this time. Now that he is here, his castle has been left vulnerable...mine for the taking. Once the castle has fallen to me, I will make certain my cousin sees no more sunrises."

Glade could feel the bile rise in his throat. This man was demented...it was that simple. He would have to do something and quick.

"That would mean that you would govern both villages. You would have sufficient population to be a city."

"That is correct, good sir. I would have more than enough population to form a city. I would be so powerful that I may even take on the king. I would strip him of his title and be named king myself. And those loyal to me," he said eyeballing Glade, "will reap rewards like none others have known."

Glade set a smile upon his face, one of gratification. He hoped he could fool this sick bastard long enough to save Aspen. She loved Lord Darktower, so he had best warn him as well. Each day that Rayven lived was a day too long. The longer he was around the more evil and corruption grew all around them and would one day undo them all.

"I heard that you were awfully rude to my wife this morning and after she saw you, she took to her bed ill. What business did you have with her that could make her so sickly?" Raven asked turning on Glade.

"In transit, she stole from me three gold pieces that I came back to claim."

"Three gold pieces? That was worth upsetting my wife?" Rayven asked annoyed at the lie.

"It is true, my lord. I went to retrieve them and she cannot remember a thing. She does not remember how she even came to be here. I nearly throttled her for I had to sleep under a tree last night because my gold was gone, but I resisted and all is well. I apologize if I upset her, you know how women can be."

"Aye, but she is tough as nails. The likes of you should not have gotten to her so. Did you tell her of our plan to bring her here? Is that why she is avoiding me?"

"I told her nothing except that she owed me three gold pieces. The guard at her door should be able to verify that. I do not think she is avoiding you, give her a bit of time to come to her senses."

"And if she never does?" Rayven asked with his heart on his sleeve.

"Waste not your time with a fickle wench. I do not see what you see in her anyway. You could have any woman you choose. Many would swoon at your feet."

Rayven wanted to bust him in the face for speaking so about his lady, but he thought a moment and realized this man was right. He was handsome, why should he settle for a woman who despised him? And then it hit him. She was his true love. He had fantasized about her from the day of the concert and even at that moment he thought of how soft she was, how she smelled like a garden in bloom. She was forever in his mind. No other woman could satisfy him.

"I will win her affections. I will or I will be alone forever."

"Then you will have no heir." Glade regretted his words after they had popped from his mouth.

"That is true as well. I suppose I will have to keep her long enough to bear me a son and then I can be rid of her. She does not have to be well to conceive, does she?" he smiled.

Panic gripped Glade's heart. "You would not force yourself on an ill noble woman, would you? I never took you for that sort of man, my lord."

"When she belongs to me, I will do as I please," Rayven replied.

"Of course, my lord. I just did not think you were that way. I have always had the utmost respect for you as a man, as my earl."

"What do you care what I do?"

"I care not, you only surprised me. What can I do to serve you, my lord?" Glade asked to change the subject.

"When I am in need of you, you will know. Now go, I wish to be alone with my thoughts," Rayven said dismissing him.

Glade offered him a small bow and then gladly took his leave. He closed the study door behind him leaning back against the wall and closed his eyes trying to slow the pounding of his heart.

*******

A knock at the door made Aspen jump but she closed her eyes and turned her head away from the doorway. The door opened and the smell of tea leaves wafted in. Curiosity furrowed her brow and she looked to see who it was.

"Aspen?" came a soft voice, a familiar voice.

"Yes?" Aspen answered staring into the eyes of Lady Victoria, Rayven's mother.

Lady Victoria came to her bedside and took up her hand. "How are you faring?"

Aspen could see the worry in her eyes. "I fare well, my lady," she said offering a feeble smile.

"I know this must be horrible for you and I am sorry, but he is not a tyrant. He is a sweet boy who loves you so much that he has turned the world upside down to bring you here and waits for the time he can dote upon you."

"But I miss my husband. I miss my people, my way of life," Aspen said.

Lady Victoria paled. She was remembering. That was why she was playing ill. "Will you please make the effort and attend the private evening meal with just the family and the ceremony of the transfer of power? It would mean so much to all of us," she smiled her motherly smile. "Would you care for a drink? I could have one brought up for you."

"I do not want a drink. I think Rayven made you come up here and beg me to be at the meal. I do not think you even care, you just don't want him to be angered," Aspen vented noticing a look of guilt in the woman's eyes of blue.

"No! He is concerned for you and I told him I would speak with you to see if I could change your mind. It is an important day for him, a bittersweet day, but a historical day for our family."

"And how do you feel about me being your family's illegitimate daughter? Your husband used my mother and threw her aside like garbage." Aspen nearly sneered. "I was created out of anger and despair and brought into this world hated and despised by a man who had to pretend to be my father and beat me nearly every day of my life!"

"I know what a shock it was to hear the news. I had not known myself before you did. I am happy, however, that of all women, it was you. I admire you and respect you. I know you will be good for my son."

"But I am already married in the eyes of God. My marriage has already been consummated and I am with child," Aspen said throwing Victoria a glance that would produce flames.

"You know not what you say, child. There is no marriage, no child. You have been ill as of late and are in a delirium right now. You cannot decipher between reality and fantasy. It is true, you should stay abed a while longer. Rest well this night, we shall see you in the morn," Victoria said being sickeningly sweet.

Aspen thought a moment and as Victoria had reached the door, she said, "If it is that important that I am there, I will attend the meal. I do not, however, wish to be received in public yet so I will not attend the ceremony. 'Tis a compromise."

A smile touched the corners of her mouth as the lady answered, "I'll fetch your maid straightaway." This girl was exactly the kind of pawn Rayven could play with. Telling her not to do something provoked her to do it just to spite a person...yes, she was a good match.

Aspen was appalled to find that Rayven had the entire household lying to her about her condition, but the bad thing of it was that if it hadn't been for Glade and Jennessa she would still have no memory. It took her some time before she could swallow her pride and accept the fact that she would have to play the delirious invalid a bit longer. She rolled to her side and pulled the coverlet up to her chin and allowed her eyes to close hoping to dream of Thorne. She yearned to see him again.

The door opened and steps shuffled, the door clicked shut...all went quiet except for the sound of breathing. It was heavy and uneven, so odd to hear. In the next moment, Aspen saw nothing nor heard anything; the struggle to breathe was enough as she clawed at the pillow over her face. She could feel arms and hands as she scratched at them to be freed and kicked her legs as she kept breathing in the same hot air. She could not cry out for help and no matter how she twisted and tried to turn, she could not escape. From out of nowhere, she was hit with inspiration...pretend she was dead. She had heard of it in village attack stories...the ones where the victims lived to tell the tale. She went limp, even tried a few feeble scratches to fool her killer. She tried to hold her breath for a spell and after what seemed an eternity, the pressure on the pillow eased and the footsteps all but ran from the room. Aspen waited until she heard the door close again before she lifted the pillow from her face. She gulped the fresh air as if there were no more and coughed into her pillow in case the killer was outside. She felt vulnerable and scared for Thorne had always been there to save her...well, almost always.

Her heart was still pounding when the staff brought up her tub and began filling it. Jennessa added oils and chose Aspen's gown for the evening and draped a towel over the chair in waiting. Aspen was unusually quiet and simply laid there as if she were alone. As she approached her, Jennessa could see that Aspen was staring at the hangings on the canopy of her bed. Just staring. She touched Aspen's shoulder and called to her to receive no response. She grew concerned and shook Aspen out of her reverie. The only sign of life there was the fact that Aspen's eyes moved and looked at her, but did not see her.

"Aspen, what ails you?" Jennessa cried.

Aspen merely stared through her.

"Aspen! What is wrong with you?" Jennessa began to panic.

"Nothing," Aspen answered.

Jennessa breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, then let's get your bath out of the way. We need to get you ready for the meal. I chose a gown of wine brocade. Is that sufficient?"

"It matters not," was the answer. But she sat up and walked to the tub allowing Jenenssa to disrobe her. The water felt extraordinarily warm to the touch and she winced as she submerged her feet still thinking of who it was that that had tried to smother her...just like her mother had been.

"Why does it not matter?" Jennessa asked.

"I want to go home. I want to be where I belong."

"You will, Aspen. Glade is working on that. I am sure you are homesick, but you must keep up the charade a bit longer."

"I am afraid that after a bit longer, I will forget everything. Things are still not completely clear, but I am afraid that I will go to sleep and wake up with no memory again," Aspen confided biting on her lower lip.

"That is not going to happen anymore. We know what his lordship is up to and we are putting a stop to it all. But, you must be convincing," Jennessa said wanting to shake the sense into her.

"But, he even has his own mother lying for him!"

"Perhaps she sees only what she wants to when it concerns her son. I believe she feels she is doing nothing wrong."

Aspen turned to face Jennessa, fear shining in her eyes. "Someone tried to kill me today. They came in after Lady Victoria had and tried to smother me with a pillow. How odd it is, for that is how my mother was killed and it was my maid that did it. Her confession note that was found with her body told us that she was paid by someone here in Rosehill to poison me and that was when we found out that she had killed my mother. Even more ironic is the fact that I know the earl died of poisoning. I could tell for I had it happen to me. Whoever tried to kill me today, is behind the death of the earl and my mother. What if I don't live to see my husband again?"

Jennessa wiped the tears from Aspen's cheeks. "I am so sorry, dear. I had no idea. I will speak with Glade in the morn and see what he says. In the meantime, I will make myself present as much as possible and you need to talk to his lordship and ask for a key to your lock on the door. But do not share with him about the attempt on your life or he will never let you out of this room and we could never get you out."

"Do you know who may have done this to me? Who would want me dead so badly that they would try to kill me even in Cliffehaven?" Aspen asked a bit unnerved by Jennessa's casual reaction.

"I have heard nothing in the gossip circles, but if I do, I will tell you," Jenessa assured. Outside she tried to remain calm, but inside she was very worried. She tended Aspen's hair, washing it with perfumed soap and rinsing it out, her mind reeling and assumptions building.

Numbly, Aspen stepped from the tub and allowed Jennessa to dry her and then allowed herself to be enveloped by her gown. It was a morbid color of merlot wine with a high waist and a voluminous skirt trimmed in a woven black ribbon, which, in turn, was embellished with small diamond chips. She felt sick, as though an eerie monster was about to take her as a sacrifice. She was walking into her doom. Obediently she sat on a stool and tolerated Jennessa's efforts with her hair in which the end result was tied back into a chignon and secured by brilliant onyx sticks. Jennessa opened a parcel of fabric and in it were small jars, of what, Aspen had no idea.

"Hold still. I have orders to put all this on you. His lordship told me I must," Jennessa said and picked one of the jars up and opened it.

"What is it?" Aspen asked jerking her head away.

"It is like unto paint for the face. It seems to be worn by noble women in times of celebration," Jennessa answered coming at Aspen again with a red substance on her fingers.

It was cool to the touch and it seemed Jennessa put very little on her, for which she was thankful. She used a block of black and rubbed it under her eyes to make a fine line beneath her lashes. A brown powder was dusted over her eyes and a white powder was dusted over her face. Jennessa stepped back to admire her work and hardly recognized this woman sitting here before her.

"Why do you stare at me so?" Aspen asked feeling self-conscious.

"You look so different. You look like a fine doll in the merchant's shop."

"Can I have a looking glass?"

A pair of eyes stared back at her through the looking glass she was given, eyes that could not possibly be her own and she sighed. She did look different and if Thorne was looking for her, he would never recognize her like this. The shine fell away from her eyes and her spirits plummeted when she thought of him and having to pretend to fall in love with another. The ironic thing was, that she fell in love at first sight with the boy, but found true love with the man.

### Chapter 17

Aspen was escorted to a room that was closed off from the rest of the people in the castle. Many lookers on stared at her wondering who she was. She began to feel a bit of security behind her mask; no one knew who she was...yet. She held her head high, kept her back straight and floated into the private dining room.

The door opened and in she came. It seemed the candles burned all the brighter just because she was there. Rayven could not believe his fortune in staring at this beauty that fate had brought into his life. She looked deep and mysterious like looking into a wishing well and not being able to see the bottom, but knowing that if he muttered his wish, the well could make it come true. Her eyes sparkled like dew upon young leaves and her mouth was the deep red of a rose about to blossom. Her hair was pulled away from her face in sophistication and every move she made glistened like a mine full of jewels. She dropped her head a notch in a gesture of submissiveness and he waved her to her seat at his right hand side.

Aspen took her chair, a finely upholstered chair, at Rayven's right, the rest of the family looking on as if she had been to hundreds of feasts. Lady Victoria sat rigid, dressed in her mourning gown of black, her face pale and her eyes watery with her grief. Marissa was prim but friendly and offered up a smile, her hands clasped in her lap of gray satin. Rayven's other three siblings appeared bored and Aspen could see the shadows of sorrow in their faces. It was as if they had all been family for a very long time...but Aspen's gut twisted, why she did not know. The hairs on her neck stood on end and gooseflesh erupted over her body. The devil was here...she could feel him breathe on her. One of the boys dropped his silver dagger used for eating and it clanged against the shiny metal plates that sat empty before them. Aspen jumped and her hand landed over her pounding heart. The hands of doom reached for her and snaked their way around her neck until she felt as though she could not breathe. Visions of the afternoon flooded her and perspiration beaded on her brow. Rayven's hands rested on her shoulders making her shudder in disgust.

"My darling, we are all so happy you decided to join us this eve. 'Tis such a special night for us all with me being named the new Earl of Rosehill. Let us take a toast before the food arrives...Long live the St. Michaels and to my true love, dear Aspen, I will love you forever and cherish you often, but I need an heir," he ended with a smile.

He was a charming man, Aspen had decided. His blonde hair wavy to his shoulders, his eyes blue as cornflowers and the hint of facial hair made him appear a rogue in rich clothing. She wished they had met under different circumstances in another time...a time where he was not crazy as a loon and she was not in love with Thorne. He smiled; she barely heard his words or the dull sound of death reverberating through each finely glazed porcelain goblet. She thought she was about to lose consciousness in the confines of the room and the evil seeping in through the walls. She watched this family as if time were moving slowly and one by one heads began to fall into their plates after skin turned ashen in an instant and eyes rolled into their sockets and they began to foam at the mouth. The lovely Marissa was the last to go, seated beside Lady Victoria who was no longer gurgling or breathing, but not before a lone tear traveled her cheek to splash onto her plate's mirror surface. She had stared at Aspen with shock in her frantic blue eyes and saliva dripped from her once smiling lips.

Aspen stood in panic and her lungs filled with a scream of horror, which was stifled by a hand over her mouth and the devil's breath at her ear.

"They were not loyal, my sweeting. They have been against me since my father took ill. You are not going to be disloyal to me, are you my love?" he whispered.

Sobs racked Aspen as she forced herself to gently shake her head in response suppressing the urge to vomit. Her knees shook and she felt herself sinking to the ground crying uncontrollably now, his hand still over her mouth. She tried to pull it away, she needed air...she needed to get away from this place and go back home. Rayven rocked her and tried to shush her softly, whispering her name over and over again until she cursed her mother for naming her at all. She came about her wits and slowed her crying and finally the hand came away. She stood, collecting herself and smoothed her skirt. She would not play the puppet in his game. She needed to cut the strings and hoped she would join the others in a better place.

In one swift move, she grabbed the nearest goblet she could find and brought it to her lips muttering a prayer of forgiveness to God.

"NO!" Rayven bellowed knocking the poison from her hands and the sound of shattering pottery filled her ears. He grabbed her arms and shook her within an inch of her life. "That was not meant for you!" It seemed he realized that he was hurting her and pulled her into his arms stroking her cheek, wiping her tears. "How does your harp sound when your delicate fingers pluck the strings? I wish I could have been there to see you receive it and hear you play again. Did you enjoy it?" he asked her softly as if nothing had taken place.

Apsen's breath caught in her throat at the memory. It had been he that sent it...Thorne never had thought it up. She wondered briefly if he was tricking her, toying with her to see how she would respond. She chose the safe way.

"I do not recall receiving a harp. When did this happen?" she asked feigning forgetfulness.

Rayven's full lips curved into a smile. He believed her! "It was some time ago, it matters not. Go on back to your bed, if you wish. I must clean up a bit. Are you hungry? I can send a plate up for you," he said planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Nay, I do not feel well at all. I only wish to go to sleep," she replied.

Rayven cupped her chin in his hand and caught her gaze with his own. "I will be up shortly, love." he said and bent his head to touch his lips to hers.

The fire she remembered in her memories did not consume her at the intimate caress. His lips were not as warm and feeling as she knew Thorne's were...he moved her not except to make her stomach turn. She gently pushed on his chest to break their bond and she stopped short at the door.

"I need more time, Rayven. If you love me as you say you do, grant me that," she said without looking back at him and left him there, his entire family dead.

*******

Crickets sang into the inkiness of the night as Thorne sat on a stump puffing on his pipe. He was up for the watch after having naught but strange and disturbing dreams of his wife. He sorted through the conversation he'd had with Glade that afternoon and tried to come to the best strategy to claim victory over the St. Michaels. A loud bullfrog croaked by the creek startling him from his thoughts. It seemed odd that a frog would be so loud and then it came again, only closer.

"Who goes there?" he called into the pitch black of the woods by the creek. No frog would have hopped that quickly and toward him, no less. Thorne grabbed the hilt of his sword when the thought came to him...Glade said he would only come to him in the cover of darkness. He was skilled in tracking and hiding, only to be seen when he wished. Glade was warning him that he was near and not to raise the alarm. "Damned frogs!" he muttered loudly and took his hand from his hilt.

Glade stepped from the trees and threw back his hood to extend his arm to Thorne, which he grasped in greeting and the two headed for the safety of the homestead. Neither man spoke a word until they were inside and Thorne had sent another man out to watch his post.

"Have you any news?" Thorne asked anxiously.

"Aye, I do. I only hope that St. Michael did not change his plan since he caught me reading his record book. I tried to play the part, but he is feeling paranoid of any who are close to him. But, here is what I know...Rayven St. Michael is now the Earl of Rosehill, he has all power. He knows you are here and thus your castle is empty so he plans to send his militia in waves through the nights to camp until they are all assembled and then they will march on to Cliffehaven to take the keep. Once he has control there and you have been removed of your title, he plans to join your men with his own and infect the entire territory adding armies to armies until he has removed even his majesty. He wants power...it is that simple. He holds Lady Aspen as his own until you are gone, but I fear for her. He wants an heir very badly and he is not sane enough to rationalize propriety with scandal. I know that it was his father's dying wish that he unite with Lady Aspen for she was his illegitimate daughter...he thinks he is preserving the bloodline in his perverse way."

"That is the most disgusting think I have ever heard...to bed one's own sister, whether half or whole, it matters not. How do I get to her? Where is she kept?" Thorne asked.

"She is holding her own for now, and doing well. She sends you her love, my lord. However, I think that most importantly now is preparing for war. He has many men on his side and has enlisted the help of mercenaries as well. They will be ruthless. You must stay right here or St. Michael will know I told you of his plan and Aspen's life may be in danger if that happens. Send word back to your keep before men are deployed and send word to any allies you may have for support. The threat is real and now goes beyond simply stealing your wife. If you move swiftly, you may beat St. Michael's troops and be ready to wipe them out. He will not expect that and when he sees troops advancing toward him and sees that they are not his own men, he will be caught naked without his armies to protect him and Rosehill will be yours for the taking. So will your wife," Glade explained chugging a mug of ale that was set in front of him.

The thought of war was hard for Thorne to come to terms with, but Glade was right...it was no longer personal. It was a struggle for power. Not just the power to govern, but it was now about the power of good defeating evil. It was his responsibility to make the world a better place, this moment was the one he was put on the earth for and whether he was to die doing it or not, he must protect the innocent from the darkness that approached.

"I will send someone before dawn to send the alert. Will you be seeing Aspen in the morn?"

"Nay, I was reprimanded by St. Michael today for upsetting her. I have no other reason to be seeing her in his eyes. I will meet with Jennessa as usual and pass along the words of hope to her," Glade responded.

A light went out of Thorne's ebony eyes casting them into shadows of regret and a sigh of what sounded like defeat escaped him as he expelled pipe smoke from his lungs. "My only wish is that I live long enough to see her one more time and I can tell her everything I had failed to the night she disappeared."

"I believe she knows how you feel, my lord. Now that she remembers you, I fear that you never leave her thoughts...and live or die, you never will," Glade said and presented a bow as he passed through the door to fade into the night like a specter.

Thorne stared after him as if he still stood there and pondered what he had just heard. He hoped that Glade was right, for Aspen invaded his every thought in sleep as in consciousness. Her absence rent his heart more every movement the sun made and he thought he would surely bleed to death. He was empty.

He sighed heavily and woke the king to share his news. Rothan looked solemn and concerned as the plot was revealed.

"Send your messenger, but send another in case he gets intercepted. You have a village representative, so direct the message to him, sealed by you. Have him alert any men that linger for news of Aspen and in turn, deploy them to neighboring communities. Send one to Farrin to ready my men for war," Rothan glowered.

*******

The room was dimly lit by the glow of a candle on the table. The window was open inviting a slight summer breeze to tease them, ruffling Aspen's fire like tresses about her slight shoulders, kissing her skin with small whispers. Moonbeams weakly filtered in, reflecting off of Thorne's obsidian hair and the stars were mirrored in his eyes of midnight. He reached out his hand and touched her, setting her afire, a touch soft as feathers but seductive. He traced her shoulders, her collarbone and cupped her breast watching her breathing escalate, her eyes soften in her pleasure, and her teeth capture her lower lip. A slight moan escaped her and her head fell back, her mane rippling down her back. His hand could not resist her neck, the softness of the place where her neck met her shoulders...he longed to nibble on it. She looked at him once again with eyes like the moonlight through green glass, the loveliest he had ever known, the wind stirring her hair again, the smell of roses entrancing him. He ran his fingertips along her jaw and she snuggled her cheek into his palm, reveling in the caress. Softly, he pulled her to him, longing to taste of her sweetness, the innocence that radiated from her. She could feel his breath on her face, she could smell the musk of his skin. She reached for him smoothing her delicate hands over his chest feeling his heart beat to a new rhythm. She could feel every muscle that made him the man he was and in all his strength, she felt him shiver. And then, their lips met...

Two people stared awake in the deepest corner of the night, both out of breath from the visions they had seen, yet neither knew that the other had seen the same...and each missed the other with their very soul.

*******

Aspen woke late in the morning trying desperately to hang onto the dreams that plagued her the night before, but as sleep abandoned her, so did the images of her subconscious and she was forced to recall the events from which she so desperately wanted to escape. She saw Marissa staring at her with questions set upon her lips, but unable to ask them as death strangled her and she succumbed to the horror of it. Jennessa brought her a tray and she refused it, a bath was prepared, but she sent it away, Jennessa tried to get her to open up but she would have none of it. Finally, Jennessa gave up and left Aspen to meet with Glade in the closet.

"Glade?" Jennessa called into the small room.

The familiar candle came to life illuminating the dark cloaked figure. Pushing the hood back from his head, he smiled. Jennessa could not say what came over her, but she threw herself into his arms seeking some comfort allowing the tears to idly fall onto his cloak where they melted into him as if he were absorbing her pain. It was a feeling foreign to him, for he had never held a woman before. Duty had always come before women and when women did come to him, he took care of their needs. Jennessa was different. She was real and soft and feminine with a heart as genuine as a jewel and feelings as deep as the sea.

"What is all this about?" he asked as his arms closed around her to calm her.

She looked up at him, her face wet with tears. "She will not last, Glade. We must get her out of here now. I care not how we do it, but she woke this morn in an awful mood. She won't eat, bathe or talk...even to me! She screamed at me to go away and leave her be just now. I worry for her so. It makes me wonder what happened at the meal she shared with the family last eve to have put her in such a mood. What do I do?"

"She may not know it, but she needs you. Do not desert her now," was all he could think of to say.

"Did you know someone tried to kill her yesterday? Someone came to her room and tried to smother her with a pillow. She says that was how her mother died too. She was scared yesterday before she left for the evening meal, a private meal and now this morn she refuses everyone," Jennessa explained.

Darkness came over Glade's face at her news. He had feared that she would be targeted as it became public knowledge that she was there. "I am working quickly and so is Lord Darktower. We have a new plan that is already on motion. If you can reach Lady Aspen, tell her there is hope. I will save her. An end to this madness is close at hand. Can you stand strong with me? I...I need you," he finished taking her face in his large hands.

Jennessa could feel the calluses brush her skin and she felt renewed and positive. She would stand beside him and play her role in her friend's rescue.

"I will be strong for you," she whispered.

"You must also be strong for her ladyship," he smiled in the candlelight.

"I will see to her now. I will tell her that freedom is close."

"Tell her also that her husband sends his love," he replied with a sparkle in his eyes.

Jennessa nodded and took an armful of provisions to take to Aspen's room, disappearing from Glade's view.

*******

It was going to be a warm day. A day meant to be spent at the creek side with a blanket and a food basket, not locked in a room alone and thinking of the five people she saw die only hours ago. Aspen willed herself to climb from her bed and wandered to the window. She opened the shutters and was blinded by the sunlight. She scrambled into the window seat and looked out. She was in a tower high above the ground. There was no ledge, no way to climb down. An idea came to her as she glanced over her shoulder at her bed. It was worth a try. Someone was waiting for her out there. Someone whose shadow stood just past the cobwebs of her mind, who she cried out for and reached for but could not find. She could almost feel his warmth under her hands, but as surely as she thought she could feel him, he was gone.

Wasting no time, she dressed and tore the blankets from her bed, tying one end to the next and ending with the casings of pillows and the hangings from her bed. She anchored the rope of bedding to the post of the bed and tossed it out of the window as Jennessa burst in. Aspen started in shock.

"Get out of here now, Jennessa! Go to my old house and tell Thorne that I am coming no matter the consequences! Leave before I am discovered or it will be the worst for you!" Aspen whispered in hysterics and grasped the rope easing herself out of the window. Jennessa dropped the supplies and ran to the window to find Aspen dangling from her linens trying to escape. Without thinking, Jennessa ran from the room and hurried herself down the servant's staircase to the kitchens and through the washroom and out of the castle. Once she was free, she looked up to see Aspen on a balcony. Relief flooded her and she ran as fast as she could to the Tiller house.

Aspen made it to the balcony but it was still too high to jump to the ground and she could not reach any blankets to pull down to use again. She had no idea what room she was outside of and had no idea if there was another bed indoors but she had no choice other than to check. Carefully she opened the door wincing as it creaked a bit in protest and poked her head inside.

The room was dark and smelled of brandy and pipe tobacco. It appeared to be a study or a library, probably one of many in the vast castle. She saw no sign of life and let herself in to find something she could use to at least break her fall. She opened chests and cupboards to find nothing but papers and books with figures in them. But, on the desk was an open book, which caught her attention. She flipped a couple of pages back to find the most disturbing entries written by Rayven himself. It outlined her capture and the things he had planned to do to her and did do to her, the plans he had for drawing her husband away from his home in order to take it for his own and his wish for Thorne's demise and to claim her as his prize. She felt ill, her blood froze in her veins...she just stood there staring at the scrawled words...I saw her first...was how it all ended.

She heard footsteps outside the door and terror clutched her heart forcing it to pound until it was all she could hear and she dashed for the door to the balcony. Try as hard as she did, it was not enough; Rayven entered the room to glimpse her skirt snagging in the door. She had to open the door again to release it and Rayven was there waiting to be of assistance to her. She stifled a cry of fear when he grabbed the handle from the other side of the door and yanked it open once again. She turned from him and ran to the wall of the balcony throwing herself over the side without even thinking on it.

It seemed such a long ways down to look over the edge but in an instant she had hit the ground, hard. Her ankles screamed out in pain as her feet broke the fall and she fell backward on her rear, knocking the wind from her chest. She grunted in pain and coughed to encourage her lungs to breathe again. Her will to escape drove her to get up and run fast. She could see a place to hide and was nearly there when she was struck from behind knocking her to the ground, the grass softening the impact to her face as she landed. Immediately, she began to crawl, wiping her nose with the back of her hand to find blood. She kept getting twisted in her gown and then someone grabbed her by the hair and put a boot in her back. She lay there a moment panting knowing she would be brutalized for her insolence.

"Going somewhere without me?" Rayven snarled in her ear.

"I was going back to my husband, you bastard," she told him.

"I have tried to be good to you, even when you refused me. But, I'll not stand for it any longer!" he said gnashing his teeth and pulling her up by her arms. Then he threw her over his shoulder and marched her back into her prison. She screamed out and beat him wildly with her fists until she tired and prayed to God that he would help her not feel the pain of what she was about to endure.

It seemed so long before she was finally thrown to the straw mattress in her room, void of its bedding and for the first time, she could see the wrath in Rayven's face. Gone was the worship she had seen and in its place was a wild insanity. He was sweating on his brow which began trickling down his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, his eyes were wide and empty of feeling, if he had any at all, and his lips were poised as if he were telling her to shush. His jaw tightened and she could hear the sound of his teeth grinding and his ragged, uneven breath.

"Look at all I have given you!" he screamed in her face. "I have given you all that has been denied you and you try to leave me! You are an ungrateful wretch!" he began by slapping her face over and over until she was numb and could no longer feel her tears and then his hands slid around her neck and squeezed. "Beg me for mercy and I shall grant it..." he whispered, shaking, as he squeezed harder.

The room began to darken and she hoped the end was near, she would beg him for naught. When she did not reply, he took her arms and removed his belt to fasten it around her wrists and in turn secured it to a post of the bed. She knew what was going to happen and began to kick at him, making him smile. His hands started at her feet and slid up the length of her legs feeling her, taking in her scent as he went. He pushed her gown up above her waist and beheld the very center of her and instantly he was hard as stone. He let his fingers play with her flesh as she squirmed to get away, but she could not. She would be his...he would make it so. First he let one finger slip within her and then two when she screamed and he had to slap her again to shut her up. He pulled the laces on his breeches to free what had jumped to life within. He wanted to taste her and to be inside of her, to plow her until she would scream for mercy and show him he held the power. He brought his mouth to her and his tongue tasted what it longed for. She screamed over and over, but he did not care. When he had his fill, he positioned himself to enter her.

The door burst open and Glade filled the doorway.

"Leave us be, you fool!" Rayven shouted.

"My lord, you make a grave mistake!"

"I do what I must!"

"Beating her is one thing, a tolerated thing, but raping her will not sit well with your subjects. You need every one of them right now but you will lose them all of you commit this act. You have had the power for one day, my lord. It could be your last."

Glade's logic seemed to stall him and the thought of losing power over all his people overshadowed his power over Aspen and he put himself away.

"She drives me mad! I cannot help myself," he defended himself. "She must be somewhere safe until I can have her. I know what I'll do..." Pure evil spread across his face and he smirked with the joy it brought him. He straightened his back and she barely saw his fist before it connected with her head. Images swam before her and she blinked to hold them back, but once her lids closed, she had not the strength to open them again.

Glade was beside himself with fury and he felt his own fist pound upon Rayven's jaw. One call from the pompous bastard and the guard in the corridor burst in and hit Glade from behind, knocking him into oblivion.

"Prepare her a cell. She needs to learn her place and perhaps if she sees how it could be to defy me, she will beg me for forgiveness," Rayven said tying his breeches. The guard nodded his obedience and left Rayven there to untie his unconscious prisoner.

*******

It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She had no idea where she was. It smelled foul, unlike anything she had ever encountered and somewhere in the distance she heard water dripping. She could tell she was lying on a floor, as she rolled herself over she felt straw beneath her hands. The stone of the floor was cold, very cold. A squeak in the blackness made her gasp and her head whipped around to find the source of the sound, but was useless for she could make nothing out. There was an odd sound radiating from somewhere close by but also far away. It sounded like a ghost coming for her; a low moan and perhaps crying surrounded her.

"Who's there?" she called out to the specter, her voice weak and afraid, echoing off the walls she could not see.

"No one...and everyone!" a man shouted and giggled hysterically.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Me? I am no one and everyone!" the man continued laughing. "Who is you?"

"Where am I?" she asked ignoring his question.

"In Hell, precious. Ye sounds perty. Is ye?"

"Where is Hell? What place is this?" she almost screamed.

"Poor babe, you's in a place where we's forgotten. Ye start out as someone with a name and ye end up a corpse after all the livin' forget ye are here. What did ye do to be sent here?" the man asked.

"Is it always this dark, or is it night?" she asked keeping the conversation off of her.

"It is always night down here, love. Occasionally ye see a torch walk through here and they throw scraps at ye. But otherwise, it is black as pitch."

"Leave 'er alone," came a second voice from nowhere.

"Aw, shut yer hole, man!" the first man hollered. "I got to 'er first!"

"How many people are here?" she asked again into the darkness.

"Too many to count, love. Too many to count," the first man responded.

"And who are you?" she asked the second man.

"I's a lost soul driven by hatred and greed," he said low, almost a whisper, regret thick in his voice. There was something familiar about his voice. It sent chills up her spine and dark, deep blue eyes haunted her. "Who might ye be?" he asked her.

"I am a wife, I am a baroness and I am a countess. But first and foremost, I am a prisoner the same as all of you. Are we in a dungeon of some sort?"

"Aye. The despicable dungeons of Rosehill," was her answer.

"I always thought they were kept empty at the compassion of the earl. I was told that he did not believe in imprisonment."

The last man snickered. "He wronged so many early in 'is rule that for a time that was the way of it. However, 'is compassion, as you call it, has faded and we are shown no mercy any longer. I hope 'e rots in Hell one day as we rot here."

"Did you not know that he is dead then?" she asked.

There was a silence from the man, while the other went back to his moaning and sobbing. "I knew not that he died. When?"

"Only days ago, if that. I have no idea how long I have been in here. I believe he was poisoned...someone wanted him dead. I tried to warn the family, but no one would listen to me and the man died that night."

"I see. So what is someone as noble as yerself doing in so miserable a place?" he asked, his words laden with curiosity.

"I do not know how I came to be here. I was happy in my home serving my new husband, housing the king, celebrating a successful harvest and hobnobbing with all the nobility in the territory when I was abducted and eventually brought here because the young Rayven St. Michael desired me for himself. I am a married noble woman and St. Michael nearly raped me. When one of his men talked him out of it, he beat me senseless and I woke up here now. Did you hear anything? Rumors, perhaps?"

"A bit. Only that ye are beautiful and that they wished they would not be put to death if they enjoyed ye while ye were out. They say that rumor has it that yer husband camps at an abandoned homestead in the village. They think he will try to rescue ye so ye were put in here fer safe keeping," was the reply. "Are ye frightened, Countess?"

Aspen was taken aback and had to gather her wits about her before she answered. "Nay, I am not frightened. In another time not so long ago, I would say that I probably would have cried my eyeballs out and begged to be let out. However, hope has abandoned me under the circumstances and I feel hollow. I long to see my husband again," she sighed. "The only thing that frightens me is knowing I may never see him again. He may die in his attempt to save me and then what will I have? I was married barely two days before I was taken captive."

"Where were ye married? In a church, for instance..." the man asked.

Aspen thought it odd that he asked her something like that, but she found a smile when she thought of that magical night. "I was married in secret, out in the woods beside a waterfall with the King of Elgolan present offering us his blessing."

"Tell me all about it," he nearly commanded.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and swore she could smell the ocean and the sweet earth of the path, the daisies she held and she began to relive it all describing it to this stranger.

He was thankful that it was dark for the tears gathered in his weathered eyes and slipped silently down his cheeks as he heard her tale; it was so moving. This woman was very much in love and she was deprived of her life because of a spoiled, evil boy that lusted after her.

*******

Once again, Thorne was awakened by the sound of the alarm being raised for all to be at the ready. He jumped from his bed, sword in hand and ran out into the bright sunshine that momentarily escaped the clouds in the sky. He could hear the screams of a frantic woman calling for help as she came nearer. Thorne put his sword away and started after the voice, knowing it was not his Aspen, but Cappy grabbed him by the arm scolding him.

"Stay put, boy! It could be a trap to lure us away from each other...easier to pick off we'd be."

"That woman is afraid! Perhaps she knows of Aspen's whereabouts! I want her here for questioning! I can see that you do not wish me to go to her so I will wait for her at the bend in the road. You all stand ready and if I find trouble, you will all know it," Thorne said with such determination that Cappy relented and gave him the nod to go. He shook his head at the fool running into the distance kicking up dust behind him.

Thorne heard her coming still, wailing like a banshee, nearly running into him. He caught her by the shoulders holding her away from him at arm's length to look her up and down. She had long dark hair that had once been fastened on her head in a mound, but had come loose on one side of her head spilling her locks along her cheek. Her eyes were wet and reddened by something...fear is what he saw staring through him. She screamed as if she had met a goblin from Hell and stood there sweating and panting.

"Who are you?" Thorne asked her forcefully.

"I am Jennessa. I am Aspen's best friend and chambermaid. At the risk of not sounding polite, I ask who you are. I must see her husband immediately!" she said clearly winded, her chest heaving and her pulse going wild in her neck.

"That would be me, lass. I am Lord Darktower. Would you care for refreshment while we talk?" he asked making his gaze pierce through her in the case she was lying.

"Aye," she replied gulping in air.

Thorne beckoned her forward into their camp and followed her. She certainly looked to be a servant of some kind, her hair up and her plain gray gown and white apron. He prayed she was for real and not a spy.

Once inside, Thorne closed the door after Rothan to escape the curious gazes of the men outside. He said nothing as he motioned for her to sit down at the table. It was beginning to be the usual meeting place here with the usual tankards of ale and the same questions about Aspen. Thorne watched the girl fiddle with her hands in her lap before she accepted her mug of ale from his hand. He was handsome enough to her, but foreboding. She wondered how Aspen had come to fall in love with a man like him; they seemed to be opposites.

The girl stared at him with her large brown eyes waiting to be questioned. Her gaze faltered and flicked to Rothan momentarily, but remained fixed on him until he spoke.

"Jennessa, this is the King of Elgolan, Rothan of Farrin. Your majesty, this is Aspen's close friend. She works in the castle and has news. Who has followed you here?" Thorne asked her.

"I...well, I don't know that anyone followed me here, but Aspen should be right behind me. She told me to run as fast as I could and I saw her climbing from her window as I left the grounds. She has been through some very horrid things these last days and she can't wait to see you again," Jennessa said gravely.

Thorne's heart began to beat again at the news that his wife was escaping to come to him and he smiled genuinely for the first time since she was taken. Jennessa glimpsed a part of him then that she would never have seen otherwise and he was most charming. The soft side of him was all about Aspen. Jennessa quirked a nervous smile in return and drank deeply from her mug.

"You said you saw her climbing from her window. How could she get to the ground? Surely St. Michael was not so stupid that he let her sleep on the ground level. Was she safe?" Thorne quizzed.

Jennessa smiled again at the memory of her friend so desperate and yet so courageous, hanging from her bed linens against the stone of the castle walls, her pink gown billowing with the wind currents. "She became desperate, like a caged animal, and I found her tying her bedding together to form a rope which she secured to the bedpost. It was not very long and she dropped to the balcony below. That was the last I saw of her. I would think she would be here very soon, my lord. You know, for a time, she could not remember you and there are many things that she cannot remember still...but when she saw her wedding band, you came back to her and she changed. She loves you with everything in her, my lord. Listen to Glade for he will know what to do. He knows the earl very well, but his allegiance lies with you...as does mine," she said bowing her head before turning her gaze once again to Rothan. "Your majesty, could I--I mean, may I please have the pleasure to kiss your ring?" she asked with a blush in her cheeks.

Rothan extended his hand and Jennessa knelt on the floor to pledge her love for her king and home.

She raised her head to look at her king with awe and respect. "As long as I live, your majesty, I will never forget this moment. Thank you," she whispered.

Rothan smiled at her in his kind way, his eyes softening for the first time since being in this wretched place and he found relief in this peasant woman who had never met him before and loved him all the same. She instilled hope in him. She was tangible proof that there were good people left in the world who walked among the wicked. It becomes hard to believe they exist in war for they are always dead before he can save them.

"And I will never forget you, Jennessa. Thank you for your patronage and your courage to help those in need," he soothed placing a hand on her head.

The afternoon wore on and the light and happiness Thorne had found faded with every passing moment that Aspen did not return. He paced the path at the bend for hours until he felt sick with anticipation.

"I suppose she did not make it away, my lord. I am so sorry. I will go back and see what happened to her," Jennessa said.

"Nay. I know you are a good friend, but I cannot send you into a lion's den. St. Michael would kill you if he found out you have been here. I cannot ask you to walk to your doom. Glade should be here very soon. He always comes after the sun has set. He will know what has happened and I trust that he will know what we can do. Perhaps you could put together a meal for my men, they miss the cooking from their wives," Thorne said thrusting his hand through his hair in frustration.

Jennessa wanted to reach out to comfort him, but knew it would be frowned upon. If only people could see events how they really were and not fabricate them to empower themselves. She stilled the urge to touch Thorne's sleeve and walked away.

Thorne stood there in the setting sun scanning the distance for any sign of her. He thought of the fact that she may be injured from trying to escape, what if she were lying somewhere and could not get to him? What if she were calling for him to help her? He stormed back to the mass of men in his company.

"I am going to search for her in case she is injured somewhere. Something does not sit well in my mind. I must make certain she is safe before it gets dark," Thorne said.

Cappy sighed. He too had thought the same thoughts after learning of her escape. "Nay, I will go with two scouts. We will cover more ground that way and it will not wound you to be three men down," he said.

Thorne nodded in agreement and clapped Cappy on the shoulder in friendship. "Thank you, my friend, know that I have loved you like a father," he said.

Cappy cleared his throat and sniffed, turning quickly away before his heart betrayed him. He was too strong a man to show his tears. He called out to his two companions but Thorne caught the slight falter in his loud booming voice.

"Be back here as the sun's light goes out!" Thorne barked after Cappy. Cappy raised his sword into the air in response.

*******

Aspen stood, and with some difficulty, walked until her hands found the cold of the stone walls before her. She followed one wall to the next until she had traced a small box into the straw on the floor, one wall being thick metal bars. Her jaw was sore and her eyes felt swollen, her wrists chaffed. The man she had been talking to had long been quiet. She figured she had bored him to sleep with her recounting of her wedding and it felt odd not to have someone to pass the time. The moaning had stopped for the moment to be replaced with conversation between the other man and his invisible friend. They were almost in an argument over the best flavor of cheese. The water dripping annoyed her and grated on her nerves. She slid back to the floor next to the wall of bars and closed her eyes. She prayed that Jennessa and Glade were safe. She could never forgive herself if either one died because of her desperation. Her stomach grumbled at her and the sound reverberated through her cell making her hunger even more apparent. She wondered when she would get food. Surely Rayven would not let her starve if he loved her as he claimed.

Aspen started to the sound of heavy iron grating on stone and as had been mentioned, the torch was blinding as the man walked through the corridor tossing scraps to the prisoners. He stopped at her cell and dropped the food just outside her reach in the corridor and smiled exposing rotting teeth. He walked away.

"Wait!" she called out. "Why do you do this?"

The door shut once again enclosing her in darkness. She could hear the squeaking again and realized it was mice. The mice were taking her bits of food. She flattened herself down upon her belly and stretched her arms as far as she could, even smashing her face into the bars to gain even a small distance, to no avail. They were taunting her, teasing her. Rayven would come to his senses soon...he had to.

Rayven wore a permanent grin upon his lips. He had tasted of the fairest in the land and the memory would stay with him. He entered his own bedchamber and was surprised to find upon lighting his lamp that there was a woman on his bed.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "I have given you strict instruction to stay away from me!"

She moved her bare leg over the other giving him a peek at what she knew he wanted. "I thought you needed a friend, Rayven. Come and tell me your woes and I will kiss them all away," she said passing her hand over her right breast.

Rayven hated that she could do this to him and swore loud and long. He needed his release, but he wanted it with another woman. A woman he had locked up to teach a lesson in duty and respect. He sat upon his bed to remove his boots and she prowled like a cat on its prey to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

"Debrin, I do not desire you. Go away," he ordered.

He could tell in her pause that she was pouting and ultimately sent out her tongue to toy with his ear. He roared and spun on her, slapping her fattened face and sending her backwards onto his bed. She laughed at him, her red hair sprawled about her on the blue coverlet, her milky white skin like snow against the evening sky, that wonderful place women possessed was shining in the light...she was ready for him. She always was. She saw what he was watching and her hand crept down smoothing her belly and playing with her soft curls between her legs. She slipped her own finger within her and Rayven lost all control. He growled deep in his throat and shed his clothing to bury himself within her, keeping his rhythm in her body, but seeing Aspen's face looking back at him and he smiled.

### Chapter 18

Once on the dirt path to the village, Cappy waved a signal to his two companions to spread out and search the wooded and grassy areas beside the trail. They were quickly losing the daylight, they must move fast, Cappy thought to himself. He stayed on the trail for a bit longer after his men had separated from him before he slipped into the brush trying to stay quiet, keeping his ears sensitive to even a woman's soft breathing. He watched the ground for signs of blood or crawling patterns in the foliage and checked under trees and shrubs in case she was trying to hide from a pursuit. Birds sang in the tree tops and a squirrel ran before his feet to scamper up a nearby oak, but a noise ahead made his heart flutter and he prayed that he had found her. He quickened his pace following the noise and came to where the trees thinned dramatically. He ran up a small hill of soft green grass dotted with sweet pea flowers and stopped short of falling down a steep ravine. The sound was down there.

"Aspen!" He called, his deep voice echoing through the valley. "Lady Aspen, can you hear me?"

A twig cracked behind him and he turned to find he was face to face with a large, heavily armored man with narrow black eyes and a sword that seemed to glow in the twilight. Cappy took himself a step backward in his shock and nearly slid over the edge as he drew his own sword. He whistled high and loud for help as swords clashed and exertion made them grunt in the heat of summer. Cappy tried to draw the man to the edge and gain the advantage, but the man would not be lured, nor did he tire. The man brought his sword down heavily and Cappy could barely fend him off, dropping to his knees with sweat streaming down his ruddy face and dripping from his red beard. He gave the yell of a titan and lunged with all his strength and his comrades burst through the brush as the unknown warrior danced aside Cappy's blade and made a swing of his own severing Cappy's head from his body. Blood sprayed upon the man's armor and the ground ran a red river as the headless body fell to rest beside the head lying in the downy grass. The man laughed at his victory and the two men that had been Cappy's soldiers felt the fury build within them wanting to kill the bastard. They looked to each other with tears of shock and disbelief in their brave eyes before they screamed a battle cry of their own and charged the man taking him by surprise. The taller and more mature man was Valiant, the smaller man was Miquel. Neither had seen many summers, but they both loved their captain ferociously. Valiant engaged the giant in melee and Miquel stood back and let an arrow fly which the man dodged. The large man yelled out something akin to a laugh as he played with the two men as a cat toys with a mouse. Miquel readied another arrow and struck the man in the thigh receiving a cry of anguish for his efforts. Valiant preyed upon the pause in his poise and swung hard striking a tree. He saw Miquel dart around to the man's backside and kept the man's attention focused on himself. The warrior slowed considerably, but could defend himself well against Valiant's blade. Miquel crept from behind and pulled forth his dagger throwing himself against the man's back, thrusting the dagger into the thickness of the stranger's neck. The gigantic sword was dropped and gauntlet covered hands flew to his neck where he removed the knife. He staggered, unable to breathe and every beat his heart made pumped more blood from his body. Ironic, it was that his heart beat to live, but the more it beat, the faster he died. He fell face down upon the ground where Valiant struck with his sword and took his head from him in return.

Out of breath and feeling weary, the two sat staring at the mess covering the ground. Once they recovered, they took from the unknown warrior his gauntlets and his sword. They each took a glove slipping it over their hand feeling the strength it provided with its leather palm and metal plated fingers. Valiant handed the sword to Miquel who tried to refuse the treasure for his friend had actually made the killing blow, but Valiant insisted and took the coin pouch off of the body instead. Miquel had never held such a weapon before and could not help but stare at it in awe. He strapped the sheath around his waist and slid the blade within for safekeeping. He was a short lad, but he felt like a giant with such a weapon at his side, no matter that it nearly dragged on the ground behind him.

"Let's keep on, perhaps he was sent to kill the lady," Valiant whispered in the event there were more large men wandering about. "Now is not the time for grieving. We must keep moving to find her ladyship," he added softly and clapped Miquel on the shoulder, watching him wipe away the evidence of his sorrows. A strange tightness in his throat caused Valiant to swallow several times to keep his own emotions at bay.

They made it to the village as the last of the light faded and the torch lighters were out to light the lanes around the village. They saw the sign of the tavern and decided to go have an ale on the dead warrior to drown the sadness of losing their captain and quench their thirst, but as they passed the castle they spied a man hanging just beyond the drawbridge.

"What the devil?" Miquel muttered nudging Valiant. "What the Hell is that about?"

Valiant walked quietly to the man and tapped the man to see if he was alive. They received no response.

"He has committed a crime. Wait! This is the man who has visited his lordship! Holy Hell! Look what they have done to him!" Valiant whispered with his eyes fixed on the brutally battered face, the bloodied hair that hung in clumps, the flies feasting upon his wounds. Glade's feet were bound and his hands stretched above his head and tied to a post that overhung the wall around the keep. He had been stripped of all but a loincloth and they could make out cuts in his skin from the lashing of a whip. Valiant put his hand to Glade's neck and felt a weak heartbeat there.

"Help me get him down!" Valiant ordered. They were trying to untie his hands and feet when they were spied by a guard.

"Oy! Ye can't take the prisoner! He's here for a reason, now move along!" the big man hollered. The men paused briefly, but worked even more quickly than before hoping the guard would come to them.

Valiant thought fast. "I have come to take my brother's body home to bury him! You can't stop me from taking him! He belongs next to our mother, not hanging here for the birds to eat upon!"

"Naw, I have me orders. He stays put!" the man growled.

Miquel had had enough and strode to him while Valiant finished getting Glade down and with one hand on his new prize, he let his anger boil until it had to burst from him or he would die from it and he drew his gauntleted hand back and then felt it strike the man between the eyes. The man blinked as if dazed and Miquel could see his nose run blood just before he crumpled to the ground. Miquel smiled at himself and ran back to Valiant who had freed Glade. Quickly, they each took an arm and moved as stealthily as possible under the strain of the weight, Glade's feet dragging along the dirt pathways.

"It's a good thing that woman is around to nurse him to health unless he dies on the way," Miquel said to lighten the mood.

Valiant laughed. "Tell you what, Mickey, why don't you shoot me with an arrow so she can nurse me back to health too. I think I could get used to seeing her around me all the day."

The moon was nearly full this night and cast silvery beams across the countryside, a light mist shrouding the hills, which would settle in the valleys by morning. The air was cooler, much cooler and the slight breeze wafted the infectious scent of the sweet pea to invigorate them.

"It smells like a freshly bathed woman out here. Makes me long for home," Valiant said casually.

"Aye," Miquel sighed.

Thorne paced again in front of the homestead wearing a hole in the ground. It had been dark for hours now, so what was keeping Cappy? He heard a sound not too far off, sounded like footsteps but there was an odd sound as well. Something Thorne could not put his finger on.

"My lord!" a man yelled. "My lord Darktower, we need your help!"

The man sounded young and tired.

"Who are you?" Thorne replied.

"We were sent with our Captain to bring home your lady!"

"Where is Cappy? Why does he not speak! Are you injured?"

"It has been a spoiled day, my lord! We bring the visitor and he is injured! We have carried him from the village and we can barely make it! Won't you please help us?"

Thorne swore to himself and ran into the darkness. The men passed through a break in the shadows where Thorne could see Glade being drug, his own men laden with Glade's girth bent like old men under the weight. He tossed Glade over his shoulder and brought him into the house where he laid him on the mattress.

"Sweet Mary," Thorne breathed. "Where did you find him, lads?"

"For a mug of ale, my lord, you will get the entire tale," Valiant said wanting to beg for the drink. Rothan entered and gasped at the marred man on the bed.

"These men are in need of a tankard, your majesty. Could you please have Jennessa tend this man's wounds for me?" Thorne asked.

Rothan called for Jennessa and explained to her what her duties were. Gravely, she nodded, but the tears fell when she saw who it was she would be healing. So close to death, he was, and she felt as though she had only just seen him in the closet very much alive and safe. She wondered what he had done to be tortured and maimed so badly. She also wondered how these two young men came to find him and rescue him. Glade was usually the one doing the rescuing.

She sat dumbfounded, her brow creased, looking at the unnatural hues of red, purple and even black that splotched over his face, his eyes were swollen shut and then some, massive gashes on his forehead and cheeks had bled and dried to black in the sun leaving bloody trails of anguish where they dripped onto his cut and welted chest. She could see flies that had been trapped in the drying blood trying to feed on him. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms to his hands where she noticed his fingers had all been broken and his right arm was broken too, his sword-bearing arm.

"Weep later, girl!" Rothan said sternly. "He needs you to clean him up and make him well again!"

Jennessa hurried to her task...she needed him to survive. As she washed Glade, she listened to the recount of the day's events at the clearing that would become known as The Bleeding Hill.

"My lord, our Captain has fallen. He was engaged by a heavily armored man and from the looks of it, by surprise. He fought bravely and well, but the giant...took his head. We reacted out of instinct and we engaged him after he laughed and Miquel here struck him most bravely in the neck with his dagger. The man fell to his knees and I took his head, for Cappy," Valiant said with tears falling like raindrops from his bowed head. "Forgive me, my lord, I am still a bit emotional."

If the lad had been looking at his lord, he would have seen the same emotions...perhaps even stronger emotions than he would know in a lifetime. Thorne whished to the heavens above that he could just be alone, but knew that would not be possible. He needed to pull himself together and be the strong one for these men. He had lost a man like unto a father, but all of these men had lost their light, the leader they had looked to from the time they decided to commit their lives to defending their lord. Now, suddenly, they would find themselves without direction and the grief would be deep and raw. He listened to the tale of the rescue of Glade and marveled at the bravery of these young men and he found it hard to speak to them for his voice wanted to betray him.

"Thank you, my lads. You have been very courageous this day. You have saved one from death that is true, but by killing that man you may have saved us all. Keep your treasures...they were well earned. Now, take to your beds and rest, for tomorrow may as well be filled with surprises," Thorne said. He knew these men needed to feel that they could weep for their captain and they did not want to in front of him so let them cry into their pillows where they won't feel ashamed.

The two stood, walked to the door and opened it but Valiant looked back and asked, "My lord, may we go back and retrieve the fallen body of Cappy? He fought so well, he deserves a proper burial."

"You may go at dawn. Go quietly and take more men with you...I do not wish to lose either of you brave warriors on the morrow," he replied.

"Thank you, my lord." Valiant muttered offering a small bow and the two left.

"You know that on the morrow, you will have to name a new captain of the guard. Do you know who you will promote?" Rothan asked.

Thorne templed his hands beneath his chin, which was scratchy and unshaven, as he thought it over. "Aye, I know I will have to choose a man to take Cappy's place. I do not know these men as he did...I want to choose someone he trusted..." Thorne broke off as emotion obstructed his throat and tears pricked at his eyes. He tried clearing his throat, to no avail. "Please excuse me, your grace," he whispered and disappeared through the door to melt into the darkness outside.

Thorne walked around the camp. He stared at all the men, young and old. He wanted to find a man that Cappy was interested in, who he was mentoring to shape him into what Cappy had become. True, he had chosen those two young men to go with him, but they were both still green in the art of war. It would never work to put a man so young and inexperienced in as a leader of soldiers. He scanned over the others, some sleeping, some playing their hand flutes, some drinking a tankard and telling their funny stories to make their comrades laugh. The only other man he felt was skilled enough to protect him was Glade, but he was lying there next to death unable to give orders anyhow. There was a man by the name of Tomas who was high in the ranks with the king's army and he was very good at what he did. Thorne decided to put Tomas in as a temporary captain until he could reach a permanent decision. That would give him time to talk with Glade, provided he healed and was able to fight again. He nodded to himself that that was the best decision he could make right now.

He spied a familiar axe leaning against the barn door as he was about to check on Glade's condition. It had belonged to Cappy. Thorne remembered helping him as a boy, he had whittled the handle...Cappy ground the steel blade. He could feel the weight of the great man's hand on his head ruffling his hair with praise. Thorne had been so eager to please after the death of his family and Cappy was the only one who he could please. Everyone else looked at him with contempt or pity, neither one could Thorne accept. It had been Cappy who had devoted time each day to train Thorne in the skill of sword fighting, telling him that, one day he would want to be able to use the ability. That day had come...

He walked to the axe and to the left of the barn door was Cappy's bedroll. As old as the man was, he had never complained of sleeping on the hardness of the earth while Thorne was given the mattress. Thorne sat upon the thinning blankets holding the axe in his hands. He hated his lot in life. He never wanted the coin; it was good for nothing but greed. He never wanted power, only a small farm in the country where he could have a family...he wanted this until his uncle murdered his family. And not until Aspen did the thought ever re-enter his mind. Dear Aspen, he thought, she did not make it back after her attempt to escape. He doubted very much that she would still be alive. He wanted to fly a white flag and give St. Michael what he was after, for all those he loved were gone and he was once again alone in the world. He thought about if he would have gone through it all again if he knew what he knew now and he decided that he would not. He would not take Aspen to his home to fall in love with her, he would not pursue St. Michael, he would not be found in the king's favor, but he cared not. He would not know what he was giving up and he would not have to hurt so deeply if he did not know the happiness that had been brought to him. He doubted that he could go on as if nothing had happened, the pain from losing the only woman he ever loved would plague him the rest of his days. Money could buy many things, but not victory and not love. He had lost both of those things, so what good was it to go on?

He watched a tear drop from his cheek and onto the axe. He saw it roll its way down the shiny blade to disappear into the wooden handle. It should have been he who was dead, not this great man.

The sun crept upwards in the sky to kiss Thorne's face with sunbeams waking him to find himself sleeping on Cappy's bedding, still clutching the axe. He could hear the voices of the men all around him and the smell of a lovely morning meal drifted to him on the warm summer air making his stomach complain to him of neglect.

Thorne stood and stretched, the hard ground under the blankets making his muscles cramp. He took the axe with him before anyone else laid a claim to it and went into the house to check on Glade.

Once inside, he used the ewer and basin to wash and dried his hands and face on a cloth before touching Jennessa's shoulder causing her to jump.

"Pardon me, Jennessa, but how is our patient?" Thorne asked her.

She looked up at him from the bedside where she held Glade's bandaged hand and as Thorne looked into her eyes, he could see into her heart as well and found it broken and grieving. Thorne placed a hand of comfort on her shoulder. She looked back to Glade and whispered, "They broke his sword arm," Thorne knew as well as she that a warrior would rather have died than be unable to lift his sword again.

"He will recover, he is strong and determined. How does he fare with his fight with the reaper?" he asked giving her shoulder a bit of a squeeze.

"I know not. He breathes and his heart beats but he is not inside. He has made no sound, not even when his majesty helped me set his arm and fingers did he even wince."

Thorne nodded more to himself than anything. "Thank you for tending him," he said. "Please alert me when he comes to." He watched her nod and went in search for the king.

At first glance the day looked to be full of promise, warm and comfortable, flowers opening their petals and turning their faces to the brilliant sun in the sky, the chatter of wildlife away in the distance, the green smell of nature cleansing the animosity from the air...and then you see what lies beneath the serenity, the talk of death among the men, the wish for peace and their own beds, the sounds of stones on steel sharpening weapons for war, the smell of oils to polish boots, armor and weaponry...no, there was no promise left. God was teasing Thorne with words like hope and faith and love, trying to provoke him to keep up the charade for his men. He would do that no longer. There would be a funeral this day and he would bury a great man. He was expected to speak to rally his men in spite of the death of their captain, but he would rally them with the truth and not with promises.

Rothan's fair head could be seen between the shoulders of two soldiers who stood two heads taller that he. Thorne made his way to him, tapping the king's shoulder and requesting a moment in private. Rothan said his goodbyes to the two men, and bringing his tankard with him, he followed Thorne past the house and into the old pasture behind. He stopped at the fence leaning over it, resting his elbows on the timbers.

"I have made a decision regarding the new captain. I feel that for the future, Glade will be my best man for the job. However, in the time it takes him to heal and regain his strength I would ask you for Tomas to step in and lead my men. He is well trained and very disciplined. He would do well as a leader," Thorne explained.

"I feel that you have made a wise decision, Thorne. I know your father looks down on you with pride. You may borrow Tomas, I will arrange a meeting between us to fill him in."

"Thank you, sire," A silence grew between them and each knew the other's thoughts were on war. "Do you think we stand a chance?" Thorne asked.

Rothan sighed knowing he would be answering these questions eventually. "There is always hope in all things. It is up to us to find it and use it to our advantage. Come, I imagine they would be returning with Cappy very soon. They have been gone for some time," Rothan said.

"I pray that misfortune has not happened upon them," Thorne murmured.

The sun was very high in the sky when Valiant led his team back after having fashioned a cot of sorts to carry the body of Cappy upon to get him back to camp. Each of the four men held an end of a pole with Cappy positioned on a woven bed of branches and shrubbery in the center. They had respectfully covered the empty shell of him with blankets and had taken the care of resting his head atop his shoulders where it belonged. It grew intensely silent through the camp and the men removed their hats as they bent on one knee as Valiant and the others passed to stop at Thorne.

"My lord, our captain returns home," Valiant said somberly, his head bent to stare at the ground.

"You have done well, Valiant. Take him out to the meadow yonder and I will ready him for burial. We will gather in two hours time," Thorne said with sentiment in his words.

"Aye, my lord."

Thorne turned as they marched away from him and stole to the barn where Cappy had kept his things. He rummaged through the supplies and finally came across his battle armor. He wanted Cappy to be put to rest with his armor on and his sword in his hands. There would be no flowers littering his grave, but treasures from a warrior's vault.

Out in the meadow, the sun beat down upon Thorne's back and sweat ran down his cheeks as he dropped the items he had brought with him. He had ordered four men to take any earth tools and dig a grave in the far corner of the abandoned pasture and then he turned his attention on his dear friend. Thorne pulled the blanket aside and never having seen a dead body begin to rot in the heat of the summer, he vomited. The flies had been drawn to the blood and the open flesh and birds had helped themselves to parts of him. He did not stink too horribly yet, but the smell was quickly growing to be unbearable. Thorne moved Cappy's heavy shoulder to remove his tunic and his head rolled away from his body making Thorne shudder.

"My dear friend, what did that bastard do to you?" he cried. It was bad enough that Cappy was gone, but to have been butchered was all the more difficult to accept. Trying to keep his eyes focused on his body, Thorne changed his clothing into his armor and placed his sword with the hilt at his chest enclosed in his gauntleted hands, the blade extending nearly the length of his body to rest against his weathered boots. Then he took Cappy's head, covered it with his helm and once again, placed it upon his shoulders. He looked intimidating and courageous, full of honor and respect. But Thorne remembered the love that came from him though he hadn't known it until it was gone.

Thorne tied a rope to each pole of Cappy's bed to lay him in the ground, sorrow weighing heavily on his heart. "Good bye, my Captain," he whispered allowing his emotions to slip and like a broken dam, release the pressure of anguish from within him. He needed this time so that he could be strong for his men in the hours to come.

Rothan came to Thorne's side touching his shoulder to let him know he was there. "It is time, Thorne," he said gravely. "I will gather the men."

Thorne could not speak so he replied with a slight nod, his hair fallen around his face to shield the evidence of his sadness. He stood to see his men filing into the meadow to stand in two lines on either side of the freshly dug grave. Thorne, Valiant, Miquel and Tomas each took a pole of the bed of branches where Cappy laid and slowly processed toward the men, the branches creaking and groaning beneath the weight of the great captain. The four men arrived at the head of the two lines of men and without warning, each drew his sword and held it out in salute to meet the man's sword who stood in front of him. The sound was deafening, the steel sliding from it's sheath, the greatest sound a warrior could hear even in death and it plucked the strings of Thorne's heart to see such a display of affection from all in attendance. The men watched as they marched past them, all with tears in their eyes at seeing death on their stoop. What made it worse was the fact that there was not a man in the territory who was more dedicated to justice than Cappy and it was he, of all of them, who perished.

Thorne looked down into the deep hole that had been dug for Cappy and loathed lowering him inside. The four men sat the poles upon the ground where they barely supported Cappy over the opening. Thorne walked to the middle of the lines where all the men could hear him.

"As you were, men!" he shouted and each sword was once again sheathed and ears were open and listening. "Thank you all for being present, I know Cappy smiles upon us. This man was more than a leader of soldiers...protecting me and all you each hold dear, he was also like unto a father to me. We all grieve for him differently, yet we all grieve. Today, right now, we should send him on his new journey in celebration, for his days of violence are through! We must apply to our own lives his principles and integrity, his bravery and logic in remembrance of such a great man. Let us not forget him!" Thorne finished by drawing his own sword and rejoining the three that stood next to Cappy. Each of the hundred men present drew his sword again, holding the blade to their brow in a formal salute while Thorne and the three simultaneously cut the poles with their swords sending Cappy down into the lonely hole in the meadow. It was then that one hundred voices broke out into a traditional hymn of death and passage, filled with words of sorrow and tears and Thorne could bear it no longer. He put his sword away and put some distance between them so no man could say they ever saw him cry. He could faintly hear the sound of the earth fall upon Cappy's armor and he thought back to Aspen's mother's funeral when she had become aware of the reality of the fact that her mother would not be back. Lyndsay had been lowered into the ground and that was the last time Aspen would see her...that was what happened to him. He had quite forgotten how wretched it felt to have to say goodbye and he took a spell to pray that he would see his wife again...alive.

*******

Aspen blinked into the darkness to make certain her eyes were open, for she could not see a thing. The drip dropping noise echoed around the dungeon until she thought she would go mad with it. Rodents had picked off the food that had been dropped beyond her bars, leaving her stomach in knots. She had not heard from either man for what seemed to be days, but in the silence of doom she heard scuffling.

"My lady, are ye there?" a familiar voice called out.

"Aye," she whispered.

"Reach toward me through the bars, I'll give ye some food," he said low so the guard would not know.

Aspen was very hungry so she slipped her arm through and felt for him. She found a cold hand in the dark and took from it the nourishment it offered. She put it to her mouth and bit down on something foul, but it was food.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Reach again...if ye dip yer fingers in this water, ye can at least wet yer mouth. Why do ye not get food and water?" he asked.

"I know not. He professed to love me, but I do not see how love can be so cruel. But that is all that I had known until I fell in love with my husband," she replied.

"How do ye mean?" the man pressed.

Aspen sighed deeply as memories of beatings and verbal thrashings came to life in the darkness. "My father was not a good man," was all she could manage. "I didn't think my husband was a good man either until he showed me who he truly was. We knew one day of bliss as husband and wife before we were torn apart. Only one day. All I think about is what I could have said or done differently to enjoy those moments all the more, how I could have escaped St. Michael and could still be home, warm, and full, and happy. Now, I begin to lose hope."

"There is always hope," the man said letting his head fall against the bars in guilt. "Even as wretched a person as I am, I still hope that one day I may find peace in me own heart and put me shortcomings to rest."

*******

Rayven slipped from beneath his bedcovers and began pacing the stone floor. He stopped a moment to stare at the woman lying tangled in a blanket atop his bed, her hair fanned around her, a smile of deep satisfaction playing upon her lush mouth. Her eyes were closed to him and her breathing was slow and steady. One of her shapely legs glistened against the darkness in the firelight. It was entirely too warm for him this night and the fire was not comforting...too hot. Sleep would not come to claim him for her fever invaded his soul. She was in his dungeon, he remembered putting her there, but then she was making love to him in his bed. He could stare at her all the day and not understand how she could be in two places at once. Then it occurred to him. She was a witch! She was magical! He had touched a creature of the devil...he had made love with her! He sat naked in his chair, wild thoughts coursing through his mind. He shook his head in disbelief. She was so pure, so good...so beautiful to him. But they say that the devil takes any form he wishes so she must be able to as well. How could he be so gullible to believe that she was not tainted? Her mother must have lured his father to her bed and begat a child with him using her own charms of darkness. Now he was caught in a web where he could barely stand to look at her beauty knowing she was evil. She probably could have drunk the poison and it would not have even killed her. His memory elixir had little effect on her and she had a strength to her that women did not possess. She could have cursed his whole house! No matter how he loved her, he would not be fooled any longer by her black magic. She would have to die at first light...but how? She might have the power in her to kill him first. She would have to be bound and gagged, perhaps even blindfolded. He could not let her gesture or speak for she would curse him further. Perhaps he should kill her as she slept there in his bed. No, he had heard tales of bewitched people being stabbed and never dying. She would only wake and kill him for he was merely a mortal man. He could feel sweat beading on his brow and his upper lip beneath his mustache, his limbs quaking at the thought of lying in his own blood feeling his life drain from him and he could hear her laughter as the darkness would swallow him whole. He must survive!

Rayven made his way to the ewer of water next to his door and splashed relief over his face, water trailing down his neck and dripped from his bearded chin. In his bed, femininity stirred with life. She sat upright, her emerald eyes shining at him through the weakening firelight, auburn waves tumbling over her shoulders. He felt himself respond to her beauty instantly. Her lips parted in a smile of satisfaction and a corner of her blanket slipped to reveal a breast to him, round and voluptuous, perfection. He started for his bed when he remembered her evilness beneath that breast. He stopped short and simply stood staring at her.

"What bothers you so, my lord?" Debrin asked, confusion furrowing her brow. She had never seen him act thus and he stirred a bit if fright in her. She was so happy to have heard that Aspen had been imprisoned leaving Rayven to herself. She still bled from the birth of her babe, but she was convinced that she would conceive a son. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her womb as Rayven ravaged her body paying no heed to the blood on his sheets. She was there for one reason...to be the first to bear the St. Michael heir.

Rayven grabbed his leggings and thrust his legs into them securing them at his waist. He took not the time to don a tunic but strode to the door. "By all that is holy, stay put. I must see for myself," he commanded.

Rayven took a torch from the wall of the corridor outside his quarters. The castle was quiet. So quiet it was that one could imagine the cold stone walls slept as sound as the people within. He wore no shoes so he listened to the slapping of his feet on the stones as he made his way around the twists and turns until he came to a door in the wall that appeared to be as solid as the wall itself. But, he knew the secrets and he pushed a stone that set out a bit further than the others and the door opened for him. He wasted no time and hurried down the steps that carried him deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth under the castle. He knew he was nearly there when the stones grew moist and frigid and the steady drip drop of the dungeon filled his ears. Men moaned in agony as he passed with the bright torch in his hands, their shrieks and groans following him through the passage, chasing him from behind like ghosts waiting to grab at him. He could feel their cold, reaching hands in the darkness beyond his light. His breathing was heavy and he was sweating profusely as he came upon the cell shoving his hand and torch inside the bars.

"Where are you?" he whispered, frightened, his words shaking as he said them. He heard a scuffling noise from the far corner and waved his arm in that direction. He sighed with relief at the haggard girl curled up in the corner. She raised her head and he could see her hair was dirty and matted, insects crawling in the mess. Her face was filthy and sallow, gaunt with malnutrition. Aspen had to cover her eyes to shield them from the searing pain and Rayven could see the dirt under her nails and in the creases of her delicate hands. Her clothing was soiled and she was missing a slipper, the rips in the fine fabric were evidence of their struggle after her attempted escape. A wry smile claimed his lips as he watched the tears run down her cheeks turning them muddy.

"Will you beg me for mercy?" he asked her.

She sat there still and silent. She did not want to answer him. She wanted to be out, to be clean and fed, but she would not beg the likes of him for mercy. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. "I do not beg anyone but God for anything," she answered painfully. Her throat was parched and sore as if she had swallowed a knife and cut her from her mouth to her gut.

Rayven's face grew angry as he listened to her thwart him even in her pitiful state. He was glad she was here, locked behind iron bars, to learn some respect. "Very well, I have no mercy for you." He thought about what torture she could endure. "Are you hungry, love? I could not imagine going without the venison stew and goose with breading drowned in gravy. How do you do it?" He nearly laughed at her as her body shook with dry heaves of starvation. "But I suppose that those things are reserved for those in need of mercy."

He took the torch from her. She was not as beautiful as he had remembered her being. She was there in the cell, ugly and filthy and not in his bed, warm and inviting. She was not evil, but she was wretched.

*******

The weeks that had passed were full of training, strategy and a hope that more troops would come to their aid. Glade had woken and was mending well, giving advice in his newly appointed position as Captain of the Guard. His teachings intrigued Thorne and Glade found his best student in his new lord. Thorne practiced maneuvers most of the day, a few men made swords and shields, more made armor but they all had the same thing on their minds...victory.

Thorne wondered how Aspen fared many times everyday. Now that he had no one in the castle to watch over her, he worried over her all the more. He was beginning to forget exactly how she smelled and how she felt beneath his hands. Her smile haunted him always, that, he could never forget. He craved to kiss her soft lips and hold her tight in his embrace. He dreamt of her every night but woke to an empty bed every morn.

Jennessa made certain that the men were never without a morsel and that Glade never felt a moment of discomfort. She had drawn herself closer to him and found affection in him in the past weeks. His once cool, indifferent looks began to smolder with gratitude and then with feeling. Feelings she was unaccustomed to but knew she felt the same way for him. She often wondered how Glade would fare in the battle between the two villages, knowing he could not lift his sword. He may never lift a sword again. She tried to converse with him about it, but he closed his mind to it and denial surfaced. When would he know his limits? He had relayed the story of Apsen's fight with Rayven and how he interrupted his lord as he was about to rape the girl. Thorne had been relieved in that, but now he wasn't sure she could possibly be alive. He had mentioned that Rayven put her somewhere for safekeeping.

A shrill whistle rent the warm air. They hadn't heard a sound for days. Thorne roused from a rest taken after training and met a young man poorly dressed carrying a parchment bearing his own seal. The lad bowed to him and then wiped the sweat from his own brow trying to catch his breath. Thorne took the parchment and broke the seal.

' _My Lord Darktower..._

We have seen the first of the armies deployed by St. Michael. They attacked by trying to send men over the wall to kill the guards and open the gates. They failed. The next attack was with arrows over the wall and villager's homes were burned. We lost five families, including little Mira's family. More men arrive daily to fight with us, not against us and I received word from Farrin yesterday that they are in route. What are my orders, my lord?'

Thorne looked to Rothan who had come to his side and they exchanged looks of excitement and hope. They had a great chance now of winning. Thorne hoped as well that Mira was faring well without the woman she called 'mama' considering the rest of her family was dead and her home burned to the ground. He wondered who the others were, wondered if he knew them and his head hung in silence for a time. He snapped from his thoughts when Rothan clapped him on the shoulder and told him he should meet with Glade and send a response back. Thorne nodded and withdrew into the house where Glade still occupied the straw mattress on the floor.

"I should send orders back to my people. What do you advise?" Thorne asked.

"Tell them to hold them off, do not attack them, but kill each one as they strike first. Have the villagers armed and ready to protect themselves at all costs. Send volunteer mercenaries out into the camps to ambush these soldiers and slaughter them. They have many more men than we at this time, put them to work. St. Michael's men must be extinguished lest they march back to be able to fight here as well. Take no prisoners, have no mercy. These men will not change, but they will use trickery. Once the devils are defeated there, they must march to us and then we will all march on Rosehill," Glade said.

Thorne scripted the message and handed it back to the boy who hid it inside of his large woven tunic. He bowed to his lord and departed in a run. Thorne called out to the boy who skidded to a halt rising a dust cloud on the path. He pulled forth a gold piece and flipped it into the boy's hands. The lad's eyes grew wide with shock and he closed his fingers around it as if it were sacred.

"You're a good lad!" Thorne called to him.

"Thank you, my lord!" the boy answered and once again ran into the wild.

So it had begun. His home was under attack and he was not there to defend it. His people were being killed off and he was not there to protect them. His wife could be dead and he was not there to save her. So badly did he want to come up on their flank and surround the men attacking Cliffehaven and then turn and advance on Rosehill, but Glade did not want St. Michael to suspect a thing. The man was right, Thorne knew, but it did not cure his thirst for blood...for victory.

He called his men together for a briefing, a call to arms to ready for the advance of Cliffehaven. He told Tomas, Rothan's captain, to make for Cliffehaven with a handful of escorts to command the small army and to bring them hither to the heart of the crusade. He told them to empty the stables and bring the horses with them when they returned.

Thorne placed a hand on Tomas's shoulder and a tender light entered his eye. "Please check in on Mira for me. Tell her what you wish to help her understand all that is happening, but spare her the possibility of Aspen's death. I wish to tell her if it comes to that. Keep her safe for me, Tomas."

"Aye, I will, my lord." Tomas promised with a tenderness of his own.

Thorne drew himself a cup of water from the bucket of creek water on a stump but it would not quench his thirst. He felt as though he were coming alive after a long sleep, the air felt warm and the leaves on the trees were vivid, the birds' song was clear and the creek ran loud. He felt the unmistakable desire to conquer.

"Braedon!" Thorne shouted. "Come! Train with me!"

A man seated on the ground hopped to his feet and drew his own rapier running after his lord. They practiced and ran drills, made up maneuvers and poured sweat and resolve from their bodies. Rothan admired the man he watched. He was a determined lad, he'd give him that. Knowing St. Michael's plans were still in motion made him rest easier, knowing there were allies on the way made him confident. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes against the thought of St. Michael devising a twist in his plan...a twist that could undo them all.

*******

It was a horrid feeling when despair was able to take a hold of her. The darkness swallowed her up and her eyes refused to open and stare at nothing. Her body itched until she was sure she had scratched sores upon her skin and she wanted to pull her hair from her head so she could not feel tiny legs crawling over her scalp. She broke, like a fine piece of glass and she let a moan escape her lungs. Despite the moaning from across the dungeon, she felt alone. A lump of defeat cramped her throat and she could hold on no longer to dreams that would never come to be. She cried, but no tears stung her eyes, for she had no water to spare from her body. Aspen had no idea how long she had been down there, but she knew she would never get out.

"Girl! Do not let it take ye!" the man in the cell next to hers called out. "Tell me a story. Tell me of the most joyous moment of yer life."

The crying stopped, but no words came out of her.

"Why do you not speak? Tell me yer name...do ya know yer name?" he coaxed. He knew that if misery took hold of her, she would perish.

"My name?" she asked out loud, her voice sounded odd to her ears amidst the sounds around her.

He was relieved to hear her voice in the blackness. "Aye, what's yer name?"

"My name. My name is Aspen Morjean Darktower, Baroness of Shadowed Meadow and Countess of Cliffehaven. My family is gone from me. My mother is dead..." She heard him gasp. "My brother and sister have disappeared. My husband probably thinks I am dead as well. As far as I know, both of my fathers are dead. I did meet my grandmother...she is a seer. She told me that I have a purpose to serve and will learn much from my trials ahead. But, I fear that I will not live long enough down here to learn anything. Sometimes I think I can see my mother standing in the corner, she is watching. She waits to take me home with her."

"How did yer mother die?" the man asked.

"My father left her to die in her home, but I found her. She was very ill and was mending when she was murdered in her sleep. I tried to save her..." her voice broke and she sobbed again. The man swallowed hard against the emotion coming from this girl.

"Do ye really think ye father would simply leave yer mother ta die?" he asked.

"Aye, he was a cruel man. He beat me nearly every day of my life. But it turns out he was right to feel the way he did about me."

"And what way was that?"

"He always thought I was fathered by another man. He was right. I was the bastard daughter of the late Earl St. Michael. But it was not how he thought it had happened. My mother died believing she had not been unfaithful to her husband and in a way, she had not been."

"What other kind of unfaithful is there? Ye either are or ye are not," he said with a hardness in his voice.

"There is the kind when you do not know because you are not awake. The earl dosed her heavily with potions when my father was in the fields or in the village. He would have his way and leave her there asleep. She was not the only one, but she became pregnant with me and my father treated her badly from then on. When I was born, he hated me as well. I had no choice...I was only a babe..." she cried again.

The man's head fell into his hands and he too sobbed into the gloom. He let his emotions flow and his depression settled about him. She had to know...

"Aspen," he called out softly.

"Yes? I am here," she answered him.

A moment of tension happened between them before he spoke. "Aspen, I am that horrible man. I am yer da and I am proud to claim ye as my daughter.

### Chapter 19

Aspen could not believe what she was hearing.

"What did you say?" she asked hoping she had not heard right.

"I am Vatric Tiller, Aspen, I am yer da. Don't ye recognize me voice?" he repeated hoping she would grant him her forgiveness.

"You left my mother to die! What did you do with my brother and sister? Where are they?" she demanded grabbing the bars of her prison and shaking them with all of her might.

"I did not leave 'er! I was brought to this cell. I was told nothing but that I was disappearing at the earl's request. They felt I had useful information of Darktower and they tortured me, but I knew that was where I had sent me daughter and I would not tell them anything. They said they'd not kill me because they would use me as leverage later. I cannot say for sure how long I have been in here, but I know I have a plague in my leg. I am certain I will lose my leg from it since it don't work no longer. I cannot remember how the creek sounded as it flowed. I can only hear the dripping of the water in the dark. I cannot remember how the field smelt after haying; I only smell acrid piss and rotten morsels. Too long has the air sat still against my face so that I cannot remember the feel of the breeze. I do not even know what time of the year it is. I have thought about taking me own life, but the hope that I will escape has not left me yet. I am glad that I did not die before I met ye again. I knew ye would be great...because you were not of me loins. I knew when ye was very small that ye were too noble to be me child and I hated that. Kendric and Monica came home the day of yer departure and we broke the news ta them. They was gone by morning. I know not where they went to. And my poor Lyndsay. She was the most fetching woman around when I fell in love with 'er. But I could see what years of doubt and suspicion does to beautiful women. It tears them in two, it makes their skin wrinkle before its time, and it makes the eyes go dull and lifeless. Soon they don't care anymore and the love leaves their heart. Yer mother never understood why I sent ye away, but ye are better for it. I hope she saw it on her deathbed," his voice broke and all became silent once again.

It was to be hours, probably, before he spoke again. He was composed and curious of all that had happened, but Aspen was not willing to talk of things that made her more homesick and hedged many questions.

"Aspen, what do ye want the most in life?" he asked her taking her by surprise.

"Why is it that when people know they are close to death that they feel this need to chum up to those they have wronged? Do you think that God will be merciful if you show that you were a good person for a few days out of your entire life?" she asked not answering his question.

A sigh drowned out the sound of water dripping, always dripping. "I suppose that when ye have the time to reflect upon yer life and when yer memories are the only things that keep ye sane, that ye ask the shadows fer fergiveness. I am sure that I am guaranteed a place in Hell, but I care not about that. I simply want to get to know ye. Ye are a woman now, not a timid girl that was eager to please and I want to know 'er. Only God knows when tomorrow will begin my eternal journey, so I had best live in today. I wondered every day if I should tell ye that I was your da. I wondered if it was the right thing to do. Was it the right thing, Aspen?"

"You wanted to know what I want most in my life? Well, I want to be in my home with my husband. I want to have him come in and greet me with a kiss and tender words. I want to spend hours talking with him of his day and watch the firelight dance across his skin. I want to lie next to him and whisper 'I love you' to him as I drift off to sleep and wake in the morn just to watch him dream. That is when he is the most beautiful and at peace. I want to hear the sound of his son fussing for attention and cry out for me, his mother, and not his nursemaid. I want to live every day of the rest of my life this way and as long as those things happen, the rest is so unimportant. I have given him all of me, every drop of devotion, and every bit of love, lies with him. To be apart from him leaves me so empty because all of my goodness is with him," she whispered.

"Thank ye fer sharing that with me, Aspen. I know I don't deserve it, but I beg ye now fer fergiveness," he said with regret evident in his voice.

"You hurt me badly, Da," Aspen cried.

"I know. I know I did and I am so sorry. Even if you do not believe me, I do love ye. Ye are my daughter regardless of who's blood runs in yer veins."

Anger and disappointment burned deep within her as she contemplated her plight. So many bleak memories conjured in her head and the words of forgiveness would not come and silence bound her tongue, depression eating through her insides like poison to leave her a shell of who she was.

"Here, girl, take this food. It is really terrible, but 'tis nourishment. Ye will die if ye don't eat. I 'ave some water fer ye too," Vatric said softly. Aspen knew he was right and stretched her arm through the iron bars and grabbed at the food he offered her. Hungrily she gobbled it down trying not to taste the rot and decay. Then, she drank deeply of the water, the scum atop it sticking to her lips making her gag.

She calmed herself and thanked her father for his gratuity. "I think I will try to sleep," she half whispered. She curled into a ball on the dirty stone floor and let her eyes fall shut as her father started to sing a lullaby her mother had often sung when she and her siblings were going to sleep. His voice was strained and she could tell he was trying not to cry, but she could not hold back. No tears fell but she cried nonetheless.

She cracked her eyes a bit and saw a shadow in the far corner of her cell. Long blonde hair cascaded over a pair of slender shoulders and bright blue eyes lit up the darkness while a gown of silver clung to her body. She smiled and floated nearer and Aspen could see a second figure, a smaller figure. Aspen recognized them as her own mother and Kara. There were two angels looking out for her. She lay still and watched hoping beyond all hope that she was dead and they were taking her out of this miserable place.

"Mama? Kara?" Aspen called out.

The figures advanced until they were standing beside her.

"Is it my turn to go to Heaven? Are you here to take me away?"

Her mother smiled looking so young and beautiful and she bent low and placed a kiss upon her forehead. Kara knelt at her side and put her small hands upon her belly.

"It is not yer turn yet, Aspen. We are simply watching over ye and me grandson. Help is almost here, hang on," Lyndsay urged and her light retreated back into the corner followed by Kara.

"No!" Aspen shrieked. "Mama, do not go! Take me with you! Please don't leave me here!"

"She's done cracked, Vatric. Hope it's not too long fer her. Seems like a good little woman," the other man choked out in a harsh whisper.

*******

The chill of fall was beginning to set in as the men prepared for war. The air had grown crisp and the smells of the harvesting season filled the air with comfortable aromas. Jennessa had made a pot of warm apple cider ale that morning by cooking apples in the finely crafted ale in the stores.

The men had begun to stir and rub the sleep from their eyes. The nipping pins of cold pricked at their skin and they hurried to warm themselves by the fires and drink the heady apple ale. Thorne sipped his mug, the steam rising against his nose, and the flavor of ripe apples and cinnamon mixed with the bite of ale warmed his innards and spread like a fire through his belly. It was the best drink he had ever had and he wanted to make certain that it was a regular drink in the camp. He loved the harvesting season, the freshness in the air, the leaves changing their colors and the sound of them crunching beneath his boots. He reveled in the feeling of warming by the fire and the way warm drinks could cheer the body. He felt invigorated, invincible and welcomed the coming of war. They had thought now for the last days that the troops would be on their way at any time.

"My lord, perhaps we should send scouts to find out what is happening there. Get an idea, if you will, about how the battle fares there," Valiant pressed rubbing his hands over the snapping flames of the fire to get warm.

"I will not send any other men away from us. It leaves us too vulnerable as it is. We could be easily slaughtered by St. Michael even with his diminished army."

"All the more reason to find out if they have taken the castle in Cliffehaven, my lord. If we are dead either way, why not find out if your people are all dead? Perhaps we wait for men who are ghosts and will never march this way," Valiant argued.

A picture began to form in Thorne's mind. A picture of blood and death, empty eyes staring at the heavens but not seeing, unable to get up and fight for the land they love...unable to get word to the men trapped in Rosehill that they had been defeated and the castle was won by St. Michael.

"Very well, you and your friend go quickly, for I expect your return by evening. Do not linger, stay off of the path and watch for traps," Thorne warned.

"Yes, my lord. Until we meet again," he said with a salute and Thorne returned it with pride swelling within. Inside, a knot of an unknown fear twisted within him. What would he do if they were all dead?

Rothan had seen the display and saw the worry etched on Thorne's face and a panic gripped him as well. Despite the glorious weather, a cloud of foreboding covered the camp reaching every man's heart to instill trepidation in each.

"What troubles you, my lord?" Rothan asked.

"Your majesty," Thorne greeted with a bow and the kissing of the signet. "Valiant had brought to light a subject that had not occurred to me," he sighed. He relayed the story and shared his worry over another mug of ale. Truth be told, Rothan had begun to think of the same events since the troops had not yet arrived. St. Michael's men should have been easily slaughtered and they should have marched on to the camp by this time with the arrival of Farrin's army. However, all they could do was wait.

Glade had emerged from his bed to fetch himself a mug of apple ale. He walked stiffly from the weeks of bed rest, but his fingers were working again. It felt marvelous to curl them around a mug handle and be able to lift it to his lips unassisted. A grin of satisfaction brightened his features. His arms were mending still and were held in place with branches and cloths tied around them to help them heal. His face was scarring badly, but he drew breath and he was grateful for that. He held a hope that he would be able to ride alongside his fellow men as they rode into Rosehill to kill the treacherous bastard who put his hands on such a true lady as Aspen. He had come to appreciate Jennessa for the sweeting that she was. He owed her his life and his life is what she would have as long as he came back alive. Until then, he did not want her to fall in love with him, for it would break her heart if he was killed in battle. Little did he realize, she was already in love with him.

The thought of war broke Jennessa's heart for she knew that with war came loss. She had come to love Glade over the past weeks and did not know how she would bear it if she lost him. She thought of how frightened the men must feel and decided to make special dishes that they had missed in all the time they had been away from home. She checked the stores for ingredients and made a few minor changes to some recipes, she told the trackers what meats she would need so they could hunt and began to prepare the bread for the next days ahead. Trenchers for all, stews, goose and even apple jelly sauce were among those favorites she would bless these brave men with. She punched down the dough and hummed her way through her morning nodding at the compliments on her ale and delectable morsels.

*******

Valiant and Miquel guessed it was about midday when they saw the first of the camps of St. Michael's men. There were no fires burning, which lifted their hearts a bit, and there was no one about. They crouched in the brush hoping they had not been detected and waited for some time. When they had still not seen nor heard anyone, they came out of hiding and quietly rummaged through the meager camp. They found very little of value there, but realized that many of these men were ruthless mercenaries that had to have been bought to fight St. Michael's war for him. There were awful weapons that neither man had ever seen, daggers and swords of odd shapes and terrible teeth cut into the blades. They had an evil look to them and the two men had no desire to hold them. When they had finished there, they moved onward toward Cliffehaven, which was still many hours away. There must have been quite the massacre for there were so many camps. Together, they wondered whose side did the killing.

They had passed a handful of camps to find them all empty, every fire pit cold and came to the break in the trees that led out onto a meadow just before the road that entered the village. In the distance, behind a small hill, they could see smoke rising against the soft blue sky. The sun was descending and they were running out of time. They must hurry to get back to their own camp before nightfall or just after.

There was no guard at the entrance of the village and they slipped quietly along weaving through the familiar homes longing to walk inside and learn to live a contented life once again. They entered a small copse of trees and knew the castle was just beyond. Miquel tripped and fell to the ground to stare at a pair of unseeing eyes. He gave a small shout of surprise and Valiant was right by his side.

"He's dead!" Miquel said trying to catch his breath. "Nothing like the element of surprise to make you want to pee your drawers."

Valiant chuckled at him. "Aye, he is indeed dead. Maggots have already begun to eat him," he said pointing at the gash in the man's belly where little white worms crawled over the wound. Miquel make a sound of disgust and made a move to wipe any from himself since he had landed square on the man.

Looking further on through the trees, the two men could see many more bodies, hundreds perhaps.

"Holy Jesus, look at them all," Miquel breathed.

"There was a ferocious battle here, make no mistake," Valiant said and they waded through the sea of dead warriors trying not to look at the terror in their eyes. Behind him, Valiant could hear Miquel mutter a prayer and found himself begging God for the same blessings.

They drew nearer to the castle and heard the sounds of swords clashing and yelling and screams of death that rose in the air like the smoke. Their hearts began to thunder, they had shaking hands, sweaty palms, and their breathing came fast and afraid. They heard branches snapping ahead followed by a dull thud and they could tell that another body was slumping to the ground. Never had either man been so confronted with death and dying and it sent a fear unlike any other into their souls. They may not make it back to camp.

For a time neither man moved so paralyzed with fear they were. They sat beneath some brush at the foot of a large stone and were completely silent as they listened to the sounds of the war going on beyond the trees.

"What do we do, Valiant?" Miquel asked dreading the answer he knew he would get.

"We cannot let his lordship down. He is expecting us back this eve with news, we must press on. Keep your sword drawn and your guard up. I will watch out for you. We need to find Tomas and see what has delayed them. Once we get our information, we can leave and make a run for the camp."

Miquel nodded his understanding and they both emerged from their hiding. They slid their swords quietly from their sheaths and held them in their gauntleted hands and as they passed the dead men they paused to find shields and helms.

They left the protection of the trees and stepped out into the brightness of the early autumn afternoon. It had been many years since they had seen such devastation. Both young men were just boys when their village had been invaded, but today there were more bodies than they ever could have imagined lying scattered across the road and the grasses as far as they could see in both directions. There were charred areas in the grass and along the castle wall that had once been immaculately kept, the portcullis hung halfway in the giant mouth of stone that gained one entry to the castle, propped up with two giant logs as big as tree trunks. As they rounded the corner they could see the fighting going on in the bailey, the flags of the Darktowers were burning and the stables would light the night for many more hours to come, they were so engulfed in flames. They stepped within the portcullis and three arrows landed before their feet making them jump backward and look up to the guard tower. Valiant recognized one of the men as a military man who had served Thorne for many years.

"Oy!" Valiant called up.

"State yer business!" the man bellowed.

"We come on behalf of Lord Darktower!" Valiant called back.

"I've heard that one before!" he laughed at them and aimed an arrow to take them out of existence.

"No!" Miquel screamed. "We have come to see how the fighting fares for we have expected troops for many days and you have not come! We are to return with news to Lord Darktower by the night!"

The bow was lowered a notch and before they knew it, an arrow was flying at them. They both fell to the ground but heard the sound of a body fall behind them. Valiant snapped his head backward to see the black leather of a mercenary with an arrow pointing to the sky from the chest area. He looked to the guard once more.

"He was going to kill you!" the man bellowed back and motioned them forward through the gates.

"Find Tomas!" Valiant yelled above the battle cries and coughed as he ran through the smoke.

Miquel felt vulnerable without the girth of Valiant standing above him. He met a man garbed in black leather armor, growling at him and showing him his very few teeth. He was a mercenary with his hair shaved off and ink embedded in his scalp in various shapes. He held one of the many swords they had seen that looked as though it could cleave a man in two. Miquel let out a cry and lunged at the man with his own sword engaging him in combat. Swords clashed and rang out into the afternoon as Miquel fought his first real opponent. Every step he took his opponent matched, every swing he made his opponent blocked. Miquel began to tire beneath the weight of his armor and a shield as well as his gauntlet and sword. He faltered in a step and received a blow to the head that bent his helm so that it sat crooked on his head forcing him to remove it. He was glad that he could once again breathe the fresh air and found a new burst of energy.

"Mickey!" someone yelled above the noise distracting the mercenary allowing Miquel the opportunity to jump upon his back and slit his throat. The man fell to the ground with a sigh of shock. Miquel looked in the direction of where his name came from and saw Valiant fighting a man of his own. Miquel ran behind them and Valiant knew what was about to happen and kept his opponent's back to his friend. In a flash as quick as a lightning strike, Miquel was on the man's back and he too whispered as he fell to the ground as his blood ran down his front to pool onto the ground beneath him.

"Well done, my friend," Valiant smiled having lost his helm too.

"Look! Tomas is there!" Miquel shouted pointing toward the castle door.

"I see him! Come on!" Valiant urged grabbing Miquel by the arm and pulling him as he ran.

"Tomas! Tomas!" they yelled and ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Tomas turned to see the two men waving their arms amidst the battling. There was merely a handful of St. Michael's men left, they had nearly won this battle. As the men drew nearer, he recognized them as companions from the camp in Rosehill.

"What brings you here, my friends?" he asked as they stopped before him to catch their breath.

"We have come to see how the battle goes, Tomas. Lord Darktower is expecting us back tonight with the news. It appears to be going well," Valiant smiled.

"Aye," Tomas agreed. "All goes well. They have been very sneaky in attacking us here. They wait a day or so before sending out the next wave of mercenaries. Each time we get ready to leave and we wake up to another attack."

"Every camp we saw was cold and empty all the way here," Miquel assured him.

"Nevertheless, I have hired the best trackers around to spy during the night for more camps we may have missed. We have destroyed many camps in the middle of the night because of their useful information. They will once again go out this night to ensure they are all spent. If they are, we will march on to the camp on the morrow. Will you tell Lord Darktower that little Mira is safe and she prays everyday for his and Lady Aspen's safe return?"

"Aye, he will be cheered by the news. She gives him someone to come home to in the event that Aspen has perished," Valiant said.

"Has there still been no sign of her?" Tomas asked.

"Nay, but Glade had said she was put somewhere for safekeeping. Be that a tower or a coffin, we do not know, but when the battle ends, we will find her regardless," Valiant vowed.

"Please come in for a bite and then I will send you on your way."

"What of the battle?" Miquel asked amazed that they could simply walk away from it to eat.

"It is over, men!" he smiled. "I watched the last man fall moments ago. Now is the clean up, the burning of bodies. Sad, isn't it, that these men died on a lonely battlefield and will get no better burial than to be burned to ashes on the enemy's ground. I have seen it many times in my life. I hope to be able to be brought to my family when I die," Tomas smiled proud of his victory.

Valiant and Miquel followed him inside and they could smell food cooking making their mouths water in anticipation. They had forgotten the smell of home cooked food they had been away so long eating camp food. In the great hall, tables were lined with more food than they had seen in their lives.

"Why is there so much food?" Miquel asked making Tomas laugh.

"There are many men staying here helping us fight this battle and they all need to be fed. But, fill your bellies till you can't move and then I will send you on your way," he said.

It was an hour, perhaps two, before they were on the road back to the dismal camp in Rosehill. The sun had nearly set and they knew it would take longer to travel on foot by night and they were both exhausted. They kept going trying to race through the brush having strapped their shields to their backs but they tired easily bearing the weight and trying to drag themselves through the tangled brush.

They passed many of the homes they grew up around and were amazed at how many had burned crops, were completely destroyed, and stables emptied. They wondered how many families actually perished and where the survivors were hiding. The amber sunlight of approaching darkness transformed the land into a magical scene despite the destruction and it struck a homesick cord in each of their hearts and they desired to be home again, to find a wife and raise a family. They wished to see their parents again and prayed that they were not among the dead and they hoped to buy a parcel of land and grow crops to harvest. They both thought of this, but neither man said a word.

It was close to the witching hour when the two trudged into camp barely able to keep their eyes open. Thorne hopped up from the tree he was dozing under and nearly jumped for joy at the sight of them.

"Welcome back!" he breathed, relieved.

"Thank you, my lord," Valiant muttered and Miquel staggered with fatigue.

"Can you spare a moment to share information?" Thorne asked knowing he asked a great favor.

"Miquel should get some rest, my lord. I will speak with you over a mug of ale, if you'd like," Valiant agreed. At the nod of approval from Thorne, Valiant removed the shield from Miquel's back and it fell solidly to the ground. Miquel drew a giant breath as if he hadn't for some time. "Go on to bed, Mickey, I shall talk to his lordship."

"I should stay, it was my mission too," Miquel yawned.

"I grant you leave, brave Miquel," Thorne smiled.

Miquel nodded and took himself off to bed.

"He fought bravely today, my lord. Perhaps he even saved my life," Valiant added.

"The two of you make a great team. What of Cliffehaven?" Thorne pressed as they walked together into the cottage.

"Cliffhaven stands, my lord. Tomas is sure that the fight is over there. He says that the men were very sneaky in their attacks. They would wait for a day or two before attacking again. Tomas hired trackers to branch out and find all the mercenary camps. Tomas said that they destroyed many camps in the night from their information therefore shortening the battle. Imagine how long it would have been drawn out if they hadn't? Our death toll does not seem so heavy, although we don't have numbers. Most of the homes are still in tact, only a handful were destroyed."

"Has Farrin arrived there yet?" Thorne asked sipping his ale.

"I know not. I did see a few different emblems on shields, but I recognized none of them. Tomas did say that they were feeding many men. He said that if all was quiet this night, that they would march on to meet us here."

"That is encouraging. Get yourself off to bed for the morrow may be a busy one."

Valiant was grateful for being dismissed and took his leave.

"You did well today, Valiant! Thank you!" Thorne said into the darkness.

"Thank you, my lord! It has been a pleasure to serve you!"

Thorne felt content and knew that he should be sleeping, but his thoughts kept wandering to the anticipation of battle and the picture of Rayven St. Michael's head on a pike, leaving a smile upon his face.

Thunder shook Thorne from his sleep and he realized he had fallen asleep at the table, the grain of the planks embedded into his cheek and arms. He looked around rubbing his eyes but felt the ground shaking beneath his feet. The men in the camp began to rouse and they looked to Thorne for answers he could not offer up to them. Rothan appeared in the doorway of the house and smiled.

"That, my friends, is the sound of a mass of troops coming to our aid. We go to war!" he cheered. Thorne joined his king and together they rallied the men. Mugs of ale went all around and weapons were brought out for a last sharpening and polish. The day had come...the day for a new age to begin.

*******

First light had barely filtered into his room when he heard a low rumble. Rayven drew himself from his bed to open the shutters. It was a dreary day filled with ominous clouds and what seemed to be never ending thunder. It was a day to keep the fire high and make love to a beautiful woman and worry of nothing else, so he crawled back into bed beside this woman and kissed her soundly loving the way she moaned at his touch. She never tired of him...always wanted him. It drove him mad with lust. He filled his hands with her hair, so unique in color, and kissed her mouth so dainty and breathed her womanly scent until he was drunk with it. It was a good day.

*******

She watched the last of the mass of men depart from Cliffhaven heading to the village of Rosehill. She had heard small amounts of information from her guard of the coming war with Rosehill. She massaged her round belly knowing her days were numbered. Unless Thorne was killed in battle, he would return to see her put to death. He thought he would turn her child over to another family. She should have known he would not take it in as his own. She would make certain he did not get his way this time. Not all the power in the world could raise the dead. She smiled at that. If she wasn't going to live, her child would not either.

*******

Aspen woke to darkness once again but she could hear something different. It was almost like thunder but she knew she would not be able to hear thunder in the bowels of the earth.

"What is that sound, Da?" she asked.

Vatric knew that sound from years ago as troops had left to claim Cliffehaven. "That is the sound of many men marching fer a cause, Aspen. It grows louder. Yer husband must be coming fer ye."

For the first time in a long time, she laughed. She laughed so hard her belly hurt and eventually that laughter turned to invisible tears and she cried her relief. "He is coming for me..." she whispered more to herself than anyone.

*******

Thorne and his men were dressing in their armor when the first of the troops filed into the camp. Thorne shook the hand of Tomas.

"Hello, my lord. Did Valiant tell you that little Mira sends her love?" Tomas queried.

"Nay, but they arrived late and were very tired. I am glad to hear she is doing well."

"She is a ray of sunshine, that is for sure. She worries for both you and Aspen. Perhaps the three of you will be united very soon."

Hope lifted Thorne's heart. Perhaps he would see his wife in the coming days. A smile brightened his face and he wanted to find St. Michael and kill him now and take his bride back. He envisioned himself saying and doing so many things when he saw her again.

The plan was set that they would divide the troops into smaller divisions each having it's own small army in it. They would have archers, infantry, horsemen and their leader and each had their orders. Some would go head on and fight while others would relieve them if their numbers began to dwindle and yet others were to flank the castle and search the inside. Of course, women, children, and staff were to be spared unless deemed a threat. There was to be no looting and no raping. The only objective was to take control of the castle after St. Michael was killed.

Rothan talked Thorne out of fighting with the first wave of soldiers. He did not want him to be killed and the odds were that if he fought the entire time, and not only part of the time, that he would eventually be killed either by skill or by tiring, it mattered not...he just needed to be alive when all was over. After listening to Rothan and Glade and Valiant he relented and agreed to stay back with another group.

They arranged for a horn to be blown at the sign of victory to let all know it was done. The first division took their places and marched on, making room for the next group of men to be told the same things and ready themselves.

"Excuse me, my lord," a young man said clearing his throat.

Thorne turned around to find a young man who was a head shorter than he with pale skin and hair that blazed so brightly it put the flames of the campfire to shame and hung almost to his shoulders straight as straw. "Yes, lad, what can I do for you?"

"I wish to fight. I wish to fight fer you and your cause, my lord." The boy stared at him with no fear, only determination.

"We have many to fight for us, son. Go home to your family for I am sure that your mother would cry a sad tune if she knew you were here."

"I am sure she knows I am here, my lord. My entire family perished and only I remain. I wish to fight in their memory and for what I believe in. I believe in you and the lady, my lord. I believe in the peace that I know you will bring to all who serve you well. I wish to fight for you, my lord."

"What do they call you, son?"

"They call me Aarlon, my lord," the boy said with pride.

"I will need you to help me out here in the camp this time. You need time to train and be ready. Glade is the man over there. He is my captain and you will be his shadow. You remind me of a very brave man I knew who lost his life trying to save another. I am sure you knew of Cappy. But, you really should do something with your hair. It looks a bit shaggy and it is hard to fight when your hair flies into your eyes," Thorne took a leather lacing from his tunic and handed it to the lad. "Here you go, Mr. Shaggy." He said with laughter in his voice. The boy smiled and saluted him with pure pleasure on his face.

"Thank you, my lord! You'll not regret this!" he cried out as he went to see Glade.

Rothan insisted that Thorne stay behind for a spell longer and go in with the second or the third division of troops.

"I want to defend my people and fight for the peace that the death of St. Michael will bring!" Thorne exclaimed.

Rothan rested a hand upon Thorne's shoulder. "I know you do, but I need you here alive and able to take your lady home."

It took arguing with Glade and Valiant as well before he again relented and agreed to stay behind.

*******

The thundering did not diminish, but it became louder as the morning grew late and it coaxed him from his bed. Rayven had just tied his pants when a knock sounded at his door. It was not a knock begging entry, but a knock of urgency. Rayven opened the door to find his night guard standing there with fear in his face and worrying his helm in his hands.

"Why do you disturb me?" Rayven asked pointedly.

"I came to inform you of some commotion, my lord."

"What is it you speak of?"

"We are under attack. There are massive troops marching from Claiffehaven on to Rosehill as we speak. They have stopped just inside the walls at a camp, we have been told. What are our orders, my lord?" the man said shaking like a leaf.

This could not be. He had thought out his plans so well that he was sure they were fool proof. The victory should be at hand...but where were his men? Why had they not sent word on their progress? Because they were all dead! Damnation! Now here he sat defenseless, vulnerable to his enemy.

"My lord?" the man repeated.

"Arm every man with a bow and a sword and send some of them to the battlements to use arrows to take them out as they approach. Sound the alarm to call every man from his home to fight for his lord. They and the rest of the men will stand at the ready on foot. I will join you shortly."

The man nodded his obedience and could not get away fast enough. Rayven was pleased that he feared him so and closed his door with a smile of satisfaction on his face. He walked to the wooden stand that held his armor and fingered the metal plates that shone brightly in the firelight. He never had actually worn this and now that the time had come, he wasn't sure if he wanted to after all. But the fight would not end until Darktower knew he was dead.

A noise from his bed surprised him and he turned to see the fire haired beauty sitting up draped in his coverlet, her hair all askew from their frolicking.

"What is wrong?" she asked sleepily.

"We are under attack, Debrin. Get your things quickly and meet me back here."

"What of your daughter? What of Bettany?" Debrin asked with tears in her eyes.

"Get her...but be quick! Damn woman!" he grunted as he shrugged into a tunic and pulled on his boots. Debrin donned her nightclothes and ran from the room to gather the few things she owned.

Rayven felt panic take him as he ran to the bailey. He was not ready to give up...he could not! The bailey was full to the brimming with commotion as men filtered in. The bells tolled the calling of men to take up arms and Rayven watched as more men appeared to take the weaponry handed to them, fear on the faces of some, anger on the faces of others, and joy on the faces of many. It was then that Rayven saw him, the man he had been looking for.

*******

Thorne sat in the pale sunshine of the fall morning and heard the first sounds of battle rent the air. He heard the cries of the first men to die and could not help but wonder who they were. Had they been his comrades or those loyal to his enemy...his own cousin? He felt a coward for staying behind and letting the other men go ahead of him just to die upon a stranger's blade.

The scout that had been sent with the first division came running up the road panting for breath beneath his heavy armor. "My lord!" he hailed stopping short to bow.

"What news have you?" Thorne asked his voice lined with worry. He had expected the fight to be very one sided and had doubted he would get his moment to face St. Michael. Now he wondered if it was already done or if they encountered resistance.

"Tomas has sent me with the order to deploy the next division and the flanking division, my lord," he managed between sucking large gulps of air.

"How do we fare?" Thorne asked.

"We fare well, my lord. But there is an evil there that we all feel and we fear that we will meet an unexpected event so we wish to be prepared. I would have to say that they have taken more losses than we have, my lord."

"Thank you, you are dismissed to return to your post," Thorne said with finality.

Thorne made for the barn where they had made racks to store the heavy armor they had fashioned the last weeks of waiting and whistled loudly for his squire who immediately ran at his side to keep up with Thorne's long strides.

"'Tis time to suit up!" he bellowed, the presence of the shadow of death creating a nervous pressure within him.

Thorne knelt before a cross they had fashioned from wood and crossed himself as he bowed his head before God. "Lord, please grant me the strength this day to defeat my foes for the good of my people. Please guide me to where my wife lays so that I may take her home where she is loved. Please bless her with good health in the dark moments ahead. When all is over, God, I pray for peace. Amen."

Thorne took a deep breath before standing, his squire holding his heavy leather boots ready for him to step within them. Once they were laced tightly around his shins, metal plates were placed over the boots to protect his legs from just above the knee to his ankles. A leather tunic that hung to his knees was pulled over his head and laced at his chest and he was instructed to hold his arms out to either side as a coat of steel was thrown about his shoulders. The weight was incredible, but his training had paid off and he seemed to melt into it, becoming one with his protector. He began to feel invincible and mighty as the tallest mountain. He straightened his back and his squire tied the armor close about him. Thick gloves were thrust over his hands and shiny steel gauntlets covered him from the backs of his hands to his elbows where they almost met his shoulder plates. His father's sword was sheathed about his waist and Cappy's axe was strapped across his back. A shield sporting the Darktower crest was placed over his left arm and, finally, a helm covered his head leaving his face open and hair from a horse's tail sat like a plume at the top to spill a wave of onyx down its back. He was ready. He had been waiting for this moment for what seemed years. He thanked his squire and turned to find his stallion that was being readied for him leaving the shelter of the barn. Thorne squinted in the early afternoon light and found that every man present had knelt on one knee to show their respect for him and their mutual cause. Glade led the horse to where Thorne stood and handed him the reins. Thorne extended his gloved hand to his captain and no other words were spoken as he swung himself to sit atop the beast who danced under the weight of his master, both man and beast reveling in the feel of each other's company. The giant horse stamped his hooves in the dust and bobbed his head up and down, gracing his audience with a snort of superiority and a toss of his black mane. Thorne's heart felt elated and light, a thirst for victory pulsing through his body.

"There will be peace in victory!" Thorne shouted drawing his sword and watching his men squint as the blade collected sunbeams that filtered through the break in the clouds. He was a glory to behold and it made his men believe in him all the more. Cheers drowned out the battle cries and loyalty exploded so powerfully that it brought a prideful tear to many a man's eye. Thorne's stallion reared at the cheering and the breeze caught the crimson blanket beneath the saddle, ruffling it nobly.

"To formation, men!" Glade bellowed and the cheers were replaced with the sounds of heavy boots on dry earth and the sounds of armor on bodies mashing together as the men rushed to take their places in the lines...six men wide and forty long made up the infantry and the archers, twelve horsemen backed them followed by Thorne and the division captain, Jackal.

Jackal had a fierce raspy voice and he gave his order. "On the right foot...and march! We march to victory, men!" And the company began to move in an awesome rhythm down the path to the keep, an occasional beam of light glinting off of the various weapons, shields and armor but aside from the deafening, steady stamping of feet there was only the sound of bodies clad in metal suits marching forward on a mission. There was no conversation amongst each other. But the tension was thick and nerves were on edge. Every man present knew they would most likely die on another man's battlefield for a woman most had never even spoken to. Silent prayers were given up to God for the ability to die well.

The company rounded a bend in the road some distance later and they could see smoke billowing into the clouded sky over the peaks of the many towers of the castle and the moans of death were carried to them on the slight wind. Perspiration began to bead on Thorne's forehead beneath his helm and memories of another dark day in his past played behind his eyes. He saw his father fall and then his brother. He saw the smile of satisfaction on his uncle's face as his father's body slumped lifeless to the ground. Thorne ran from him, but not before his uncle swung at him and caught his leg but watching the soldiers he knew, who were his friends and were falling to their deaths and hearing the screams and cries to God, he hadn't realized the gash in his leg.

Thorne snapped back to reality as Jackal bellowed the halt and the marching stopped. Thorne could see bodies all around him as Tomas rode up to greet them all. He looked pleased with the progress of the war.

"We nearly have them beat, my lord. What say you to that?" he said smugly with a grin upon his lips.

"That is wonderful news, Tomas, but how close are we really?" Thorne asked.

"St. Michael has resorted to using his peasant men and his very small group of castle guards to try and fend us off. Unfortunately, there will be many widows in this place. But we are at an advantage because St. Michael thought he had outsmarted you."

"Then let us join in and squash them once and for all!" Thorne said.

"We have yet to see St. Michael. We are waiting, trying to draw him out to fight for his title. Eventually even a coward will fight to keep his power. Let his numbers fall a bit more and see if we can't get even a glimpse of him and take him out with an arrow...put and end to him. I do not want him to flee," Tomas countered.

Thorne knew Tomas was right and agreed to wait until Tomas signaled the flag to be raised. A bell tolled again at the keep and took them quite by surprise. Thorne looked to Jackal who shrugged back at him with no answers. Suddenly, a loud rumbling and shouts filled the smoky air coming at them from the east. Thorne heard Tomas scream out for his men to fall back and the flag was raised for the next divisions to join the ranks. Thorne squinted into the distance and could see what seemed to be sea of men running through the roads of the village. They were all dressed in black, heavily armored and brandished evil weaponry above their heads as they ran at them in the afternoon weather. Thorne felt a drop of rain fall idly on his nose and knew that the worst was just beginning. A tinge of nausea washed over him but he pushed it aside. He would not be running from this battle.

A slight man appeared riding a magnificent steed of white, who it was, Thorne could not say. But Jackal let his name escape him on a heavy sigh...St. Michael. They looked one to another and Thorne spurred his horse forward to catch his enemy, his breath coming so fast he thought he'd die from it, his heart thundering as loud as hoof beats in his ears swallowing all other sounds around him. He found his focus as Glade had taught him and he drew his sword cutting down all those who stood in his way. He was nearly there when a strong pair of hands came up on his flank and pulled him from his saddle. His horse whinnied and bolted from all the commotion in the absence of his master. Thorne quickly gathered his wits about him and stood against his foe, a large mercenary, who's only weakness was in his underarm. Thorne blocked his swing and matched the man's footsteps preparing himself for another such strike. The two men looked deep into each other's eyes to find neither fear nor defeat there. The next swing came and knocked Thorne off balance and before he could regain his composure, another blow followed and he fell to the ground. The giant man grunted at him and prepared to make the killing blow when someone jumped upon his back, lifted the ring mail at his neck and slit his throat. Dazed, Thorne watched as if time had slowed and could see the man falling toward him like a tree being cut down and he rolled out of harm's way just in time. A gauntleted hand was extended to him, which he took and looked up into the eyes of Miquel.

"My thanks, my good friend!" Thorne hollered above the noise.

Miquel nodded to him and turned to take on another opponent, and Thorne scanned the mob of men for St. Michael. He darted through the crowd desperately searching for the man on the horse. He was engaged in combat more times than he could keep count and fought well, though he kept his focus on one man. And then, as if he materialized before him, St. Michael appeared out of the smoke. Thorne did not wait, he engaged the man on horseback striking with a mighty swing that knocked the man from his saddle. He slapped the beast on his rump and it made a dash for safety leaving the two men face to face. Thorne stared into the cool blue eyes that met his and saw contempt and loathing, and he was certain Rayven saw the same in his. Thorne swung again and the blades clashed ringing out loudly into the afternoon. They retreated and swung again but Thorne, anticipating Rayven's move, slid his blade to the side and caught Rayven at the joint of his armor on his shoulder. He squealed in pain, grateful that it was not his sword arm and glanced to see his blood wash over the leather and metal on his arm. He growled at Thorne and came at him fast, fury etching his face and a cry of death bleating from his lungs. Thorne blocked, but Rayven twisted his sword from his hands and Thorne watched his father's sword skid along the ground and lay silent in the grass far out of his reach. He heard St. Michael scream again and he drew from his back the axe that had belonged to Cappy and hoped he was not too late. He watched St. Michael bring his sword down upon him and he knelt on one knee holding the axe in both hands above his head blocking the blow. Deftly Thorne stood and spun to his left to gain momentum. The axe connected the soft belly of his opponent who screamed in pain as the blood rushed like a river from his body when Thorne pulled the blade of the axe from him, he himself panting with exertion. Rayven fell to the ground and Thorne ran to his own sword plucking it from the grass. It was the moment he had waited for.

"This is for Aspen!" Thorne bellowed as he plunged the tip of the sword into Rayven's heart hearing him yelp before he passed on into Hell. "And this is for my father, you bastard!" he finished and brought his sword down upon his cousin's neck severing it from his body. He placed the head under a nearby bush so he could retrieve it later. Aspen was the only thing on his mind at that moment and he ran for the keep.

Tomas had seen what happened and caught a few other men to join him in following Thorne in case it was a trap.

### Chapter 20

The castle was deserted and Thorne began to search every room for his wife. He heard Tomas calling for him but he did not want to stop to answer. He had waited so long to just be this close to finding her that he would not wait any longer. Tomas caught up with him eventually and sent the other men to search the towers.

"Remember Thorne, she was put away for safe keeping. She would not be out in the castle as if she roamed freely about," Tomas rationalized. "Come, let us check the cellars for they are close. My men will check the towers and report back soon."

Thorne nodded and together they set out looking for the kitchen and pantries which they found to be deserted as well, the evening meal still boiling over the fire and the bread burning in the brick oven spilling rancid smelling smoke from its opening. Tomas grabbed the breadboard and removed them from the heat so the smoke would dissipate and Thorne began stomping on the floor to find the opening to the cellar. Tomas thought he heard something and grabbed Thorne's arm to still him. They heard it again...a thumping coming from beneath the floorboards to the left. They searched desperately for the opening, but happened upon a few loose floorboards beneath a pile of rushes. They worked together to get them open and the smell that wafted to them from the hole in the floor gagged them both and they had to turn to vomit.

"My God! What is down there!" Thorne exclaimed between heaves.

"That, my lord, is the smell of decaying flesh. Someone lies dead beneath this floor."

A small cry floated to them from the blackness. "Help me!" it said.

Tomas grabbed a torch and without hesitation, he jumped into the pit. Thorne heard him call out to the voice, it sounded to be a woman's voice, and she answered him. The torchlight all but disappeared before he heard Tomas gagging and sporting dry heaves and screaming to God.

"What is down there, Tomas?" Thorne called out.

"It appears to be a cellar...an old cellar! And here is the rest of the entire St. Michael family, Thorne. But one is alive, just barely. She needs help! I will lift her through the floor if you will pull her up!" Tomas answered.

Thorne watched as a gaunt and dirty girl was passed to him. She was probably a bit younger than his Aspen and looked to have been starved. She was crying and shaking and she clung to Thorne as if he were her Savior. He cradled her slight form until Tomas had lifted himself out of the doom under the floor and they took the girl to a bed and gave her water to drink and bundled her in blankets.

"What is your name?" Thorne asked her softly.

"Marissa," she whispered.

"I am..." he began.

"I know who you are," she croaked.

"Where is Aspen? Do you know of her fate?" he pressed.

"Nay, I know not," she answered.

"How did your family come to their demise and how did you come to live?" Tomas interjected hoping for some clue.

"Poisoned," she made out. "I saw them die and I pretended," she said as she began to sob her horrors out.

"What of Aspen? Was she poisoned as well?"

"Rayven said the drink was not meant for her," Marissa replied.

Confusion marred Thorne's face and he wished that he had gotten the information from Rayven before he killed him. He removed his helm from his head and let his forehead fall into his hands.

Tomas suddenly sat up slapping his hand on one knee. "The dungeons. If she is not in a tower, she must be in the dungeons!"

"Marissa, where are the dungeons?" Thorne pressed the nearly skeletal girl.

She rolled her head weakly from side to side. "I was never allowed to be in there...I just don't know. Look for a secret panel. I know this castle but I never found the entrance."

Thorne clung to that hope and they stood together telling Marissa that they would be back for her soon, leaving her with a team of soldiers who would make her comfortable. They searched for the door to the dungeons and were met by the other men who told them that the towers were merely littered with junk. They were ordered to help them find the way into the belly of the castle. Thorne became more irritated the longer it took.

The noise had quieted and Aspen was hopeful that all was over when another bout of noise sounded almost right above her head. It had all started again. She felt weary and as if she were spinning.

"I feel odd, Da," she called out into the blackness.

"What do you mean, child?" he asked.

"It feels as if my breath leaves me and I feel like I am flying away. If I close my eyes, I can see clouds and I want to sleep," she whispered.

Panic gripped Vatric and he found a new strength in him to save her. He struggled to get closer to her through his bars. He stretched his hand around feeling for hers. "No talk about flying, you hear me? Give me your hand. Oh, you are so cold. Talk to me, but do not sleep now. Tell me of Cliffehaven for you are soon to see it."

"But you will see it with me, Da. Besides, all the words I could say would never describe it the way your eyes can. I am tired now. I need to sleep."

Vatric knew he was closer to death than she, but did not say that to her. He had given her all of the food he had stashed away since they had not been fed for many days, perhaps weeks, he guessed. Perhaps it was not so long and perhaps it was longer, but they hadn't gotten anything for some time.

"Aspen? Wake up and tell me a story. I want to hear something about your favorite place back at home. Aspen?" he called out. It hit him then, that aside from the dripping, all was quiet. The moans had all ceased and an almost foul odor began to creep upon him like the plague. He was surrounded by corpses...and the reaper was merely biding his time before he took them all. "Aspen!" he shouted and received no answer, her fingers were limp and cold.

"Dear God," he prayed, "please protect my daughter from death's hands. Take me in her stead." And then he gave in to the sleep that was trying to claim him.

Thorne's anger bubbled deep within him before it spewed forth from him through his fists that smashed everything in his path.

"My lord! We found it! We found the entrance!" came a voice from one of the men.

Thorne wasted no time and ran into a room that was hidden behind a wall of rock that opened as the men pressed on the correct brick. It was small and empty but for tapestries hanging on the walls that when a man moved one aside, it revealed a heavy wooden door, but the door was locked. On Tomas's word, the men ran at the door with their shoulders slamming their girth into the wooden planks. The lock groaned beneath their weight, but held. Again they pushed and a third time before it gave way and they gained entrance. Tomas gave them all a torch from the walls and Thorne asked the heated question on all the minds present.

"How do we get her out without a key?"

"If we find her down here, we will find a way."

They were almost to the damp floor beneath when the familiar smell of decay met their senses. Thorne's heart sank and his hope dissolved. They searched each cell to find all the prisoners dead. Thorne spied something light in color against the darkness down the corridor and went to see what it was. As he neared, he recognized it as Aspen's hand clasped with a man's hand. Thorne knelt and took her hand away from the other man's and placed it in his, her skin was dirty, her nails long, scratches had bled in patches over her skin and she was cold. He remembered her being cold so many times that she should not have been. He thought of her as he had drug her from the water and he thought of the time she had gone cold from the poison she had been fed. The tears gathered at the corner of his eyes and traced a line down his bearded face.

"Aspen, my love," he soothed. He followed her arm to see the rest of her lying in a pool of tattered fabric, lice crawling through her hair, her feet bare. "Aspen, wake up. I am here to take you home. I am so sorry it took so very long, but I never stopped thinking of you. You never stopped haunting my dreams and the thought of finding you again kept me going when I had thought of giving up. Don't you give up either. Open your eyes and look at me, please!" he cried.

It was raining...she could feel the wetness on her arms. Her body felt heavy, she was not flying at all. It was so difficult to move. She could hear someone speaking to her telling her to open her eyes but she did not want to. She wanted to sleep. A warmth began to make its way up her arm and she recognized the voice in the shadows.

"Thorne?" she whispered.

Relief flooded him as he heard his name fall from her lips. "Aspen, it is I. I am so glad I found you, love," he cried. "I have found her! Quickly! We must get her out of here!" He stood and shook the bars trying to find some weakness in them.

Tomas came to a halt behind him, the sound of jingling keys distracting him for a time. "I found these in a small room beneath he stairs. Perhaps one of them will fit," he explained. Thorne stepped aside and held the torch low so Tomas could see what he was doing. A number of keys fit, but wouldn't turn to open the lock. Tomas was nearly to the end of the ring when a key moved and the lock clicked open allowing the door to give way. Thorne rushed inside and lifted his skeleton of a bride in his arms and made for the stairway.

"Da..." she whispered.

Thorne stopped. "What, darling?"

"My Da...next to me...get him out," she said barely over a whisper that time.

"Tomas! See to the cell next to hers. Try to save the man in there. The rest, who are in fact dead, need to be piled and burned. Wear cloths over your faces and gloves on your hands so you don't catch anything," he called into the darkness. He did not wait for a reply but took the stairs two at a time being fairly exhausted at the top from the weight of his armor and not from his wife for she weighed little more than a goose's feather. He found a few other men that had wandered in, searching for orders since the fighting was over, some strangers...some not. Upon seeing Thorne and Aspen, they each took their turn on bended knee to offer their respects.

"I need a few of you to return to the camp and help those there transport our things to the keep. We will be sleeping in comfort this night! Then we need to pile the bodies and tend the wounded...we must burn the dead as soon as we can."

"Aye, my lord!" the men shouted and departed.

Thorne made Aspen as comfortable as possible until he could get Jennessa there to help tend her and get her bathed. But he did get her to drink some water and eat a bit of bread before she refused any more.

When Jennessa heard that St. Michael was dead and that they had recovered Aspen, she dropped everything and ran all the way to the keep. Glade watched as she left, not giving him another thought. He knew she was worried about her friend, but a twang of jealousy hit him...it was a feeling he did not expect to feel and he knew he was more attached to her than he was letting on.

Thorne was glad to see Jennessa arrive so soon and told her what had happened. She set many to work in the kitchens to prepare a meal for the company that would be staying there and had a tub of warm water set for both Aspen and Marissa. Some of the servants had come back out of the woodwork and Jennessa gave them their duties as well, assigning a maid to see to Marissa's care. She brought a bucket of lard to Aspen's room and began working on her hair. She could see the awful insects crawling about in Aspen's matted hair and it nearly made her ill. She stoked the fire so that she could burn everything to keep the lice from spreading after she got the infestation under control. Jennessa took a hairbrush and began to smooth out the knots, which seemed to bother the bugs and they tried to escape the bristles of the brush. Aspen kept trying to itch her head but Jennessa bade her to be still. Once she had Aspen's hair looking reasonable, she took a handful of lard and spread it through from scalp to ends. She repeated this until Aspen's head was covered in white lard to kill off the lice. Jennessa wrapped Aspen's head in a blanket and inspected her wounds on her arms and legs deciding which ones would need treated and wrapped.

"Come now, let's get you into the bath, my lady," Jennessa said with respect.

"Do not call me that. Call me your friend...call me Aspen. And I do not think I want to get up yet, I just want to sleep."

"I know, but you will sleep much better if you are clean again. I need to burn the bedding and bring in fresh, so you need to get up anyway. Come on, you will absolutely love it," Jennessa urged knowing it would be some time before her friend was back to being herself again.

Aspen continued to groan in protest, but she let Jennessa help her up and undress. Truth be told, she was glad to be out of that rag of a gown. She stepped into the warm water and realized that Jennessa was right, it felt so very good and the smell of roses relaxed her. She could not remember the last one she had been able to enjoy, it had been so long ago.

Jennessa watched closely as Aspen climbed into the tub and could not help but notice the lump at the bottom of Aspen's belly. Many emotions coursed through her and she prayed that Rayven had not raped her friend and impregnated her. She thought about what she should tell his lordship, if anything at all. She wondered if Aspen was even aware of the child growing within her. The thought also crossed her mind that the child may not have survived the torture of Aspen's cell: the malnutrition, the lack of water. Judging by the way she could count every rib, she knew it had been horrible.

"The man in the cell next to me...how does he fare?" Aspen asked breaking the awkward silence.

"I know not, but I will inquire of him after we have you tucked away in bed again. I think you should try to eat again," Jennessa urged.

"Nay, I do not feel like eating. 'Tis a strange thing...I would dream of food and wake up smelling it and my mouth would water, but I have the chance to eat and it makes me feel ill. Nay, I do not want any more to eat," Aspen replied.

"Then I will make certain that you have cool water at all times and if you feel hungry, you have but to ask and I will see to it that you eat," Jennessa smiled.

"Thank you, Jennessa," Aspen sighed leaning back against the side of the tub and closing her eyes.

In no time Aspen was laying between clean sheets, the old ones were burning outside where many of the dead had been piled. Jennessa had thrown her awful dress into the fire in her room to destroy the life living in the fabric. Jennessa handed her a cup of water to remind her to drink and Aspen sipped a bit as a knock sounded outside her door.

"I'll tell them to come back, my lady," Jenenssa huffed, a bit miffed that poor Aspen was already being bombarded with visitors. She opened the door to find her king standing there rich and regal as ever.

"I have come to check on Aspen. May I enter?" he asked humbly.

Jennessa bowed low and tried to still her shaking knees as she kissed his ring and allowed him passage.

Rothan strode to Aspen's bedside and sat next to her taking her hand in his. She smiled at him and kissed his ring as well.

"How do you feel, my lady?" he asked her with worry etched in his face but a smile twinkling at the corner of his eye. "'Tis so good to see you. We have all held out hope that we would get to you in time."

A brief smile brightened her face and she glanced away at the floor. "I am glad you were not too late. I have so many questions...how is Glade?" she whispered.

"Glade made it to us in the knick of time. He very nearly died. He wanted so badly to save you and he healed enough to help us in our crusade. He is now employed by your husband," Rothan responded.

The questions kept coming and he kept answering them, though his composure faltered as he told her of Cappy's fate and the tears finally flowed down her cheeks. She answered the questions he had of her and he thought he would be sick when she recounted the story of the poisonings and how Rayven wanted her to beg for her freedom and a new respect for her formed when she told him she would not beg. She told him of the time she'd had with her father, but she refused to admit she was the true daughter of the dead earl and his heart broke for her.

"Is there anything I can get for you before I retire for the night?" he asked standing and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"It may not be fair of me to ask it, your majesty," she said sheepishly.

"For you I would move the stars to spell your name," he smiled genuinely.

"All I want is to spend some time with my husband who has been absent all the day. Could you find him for me, sire?"

It still hurt him that she chose another over him, but he smiled and nodded blinking back the tears in his own eyes. Then he turned on his heel and left. If nothing else, she did deserve his understanding.

Glade found Thorne as the company moved into the keep, Aarlon was following him, laden down with a pack full of a bit of everything and was instructed to take it into the castle. When they were alone, Thorne beckoned him over to the bushes where he pulled forth the head he had taken in battle.

"It is done!" he exclaimed beaming proudly, not of what he had done, but what the deed had accomplished.

Shock stilled Glade's breath for a time before he could speak. "My lord, that is not Rayven St. Michael. That was an imposter," he said trying to control the wave of nausea that was attacking him.

"Surely you jest..." Thorne said cracking a quick smile, hoping Glade would join him in a small amount of humor over the situation. When Glade continued to pale, Thorne knew it was so. He had been bested by his enemy once again, and Rayven roamed free...although as a coward. Rage overcame Thorne and he slammed his fists into the ground and screamed to the heavens throwing the head into the bonfire of burning bodies...Glade was at his side to calm him, to help him find his perspective.

"Do not let on that he has survived, my lord. Advise the king to place heavy power here in the event St. Michael returns, but as far as anyone should know, you lopped off the bastard's head. You ended his reign of terror...you saved the life of your beloved wife and myself. We will remain on high guard until we know of his whereabouts. You took his castle...he has no more power to speak of," Glade wisely said.

Thorne nodded his agreement and told him to search all the outbuildings and have men prepare the cemetery for the burials of the St. Michael family and then a familiar hand rested on his shoulder and he turned to see Rothan standing behind him with some unknown emotion hiding behind his eyes.

"Your majesty," Thorne said bowing low and Glade doing his best to be respectful.

"'Tis very good to see you, Darktower. You have done well and I commend you. I wish to have a great feast when your wife is strong enough to attend. But for now, Aspen needs you at her side. She didn't want to, but she asked me to fetch you to her. I will stay out a bit longer to be certain things are taken care of, although I believe that you have it all under control," Rothan smiled a very broken smile. It had nearly killed him to tend to Aspen's wishes, but he loved her enough to let his heart break to bring her comfort. Never in his life had he loved anyone so. He watched Thorne break into a run and disappear into the castle and let a sigh of defeat escape him.

Thorne was happy that she had asked to see him, but he was afraid to talk to her about what all happened to her...or rather he was afraid of what really happened to her. He could not bear it if St. Michael had raped her or had passed her to anyone else. His heart went out to her when he had looked at her the first time in the dungeons and he was so scared she was going to die. But, despite all of that, he just was not sure what to say to her. He rounded a corner and Jennessa ran into his chest giving up a squeal of surprise.

"My lord, I am so sorry. I did not see you," she breathed bowing to him.

"What has you in such a hurry?" Thorne asked a bit worried.

"Actually, I wanted to speak with you. I have wondered if I was doing the right thing, but I think you should know," Jennessa said looking very pale in the face.

"Can we talk here? I want to be with my wife now that things are calming down out there."

Jennessa looked from side to side and then nodded. "Aspen is pregnant, my lord," she whispered.

Thorne's heart jumped into his throat. His fears were valid. He stared at Jennessa wide eyed for a time. Clearing his throat he finally choked out, "How do you know this?"

"The bulge in her belly is hard to mistake, my lord. However it may be wise to have her examined by a physician," she said letting her eyes fall to study the stones of the floor.

"I need you to tell me the truth. Did St. Michael ever force my wife into his bed?" Thorne asked with fury building within him.

Immediately her head shook side to side in denial. "I never saw nor heard anything. Even on my return, all I was told was that Glade stopped him from taking her and that was when he locked her in the dungeons. Her father claims that St. Michael only appeared down there once and tried to get her to beg him for mercy...but she would not and he left her there to die. Everything in me tells me that he never partook of her body, my lord, but my opinion means little."

"Your opinion means very much to me and to Aspen as well, I am sure. I will send for my physician to come here and treat her," Thorne said feeling a bit better about her condition. Perhaps she was unspoiled after all.

"My lord, if I may be candid..." she paused waiting for his approval.

"Of course, Jennessa, go on."

"Aspen has been through many horrors that most people will never have to endure. She needs you to be strong for her and no matter what has happened or who is the child's father, the future is bright for you and she. You love each other. I guess I am saying, please do not shun her, I beg you. She is miserable enough and none of this was her fault but she has been duly punished for it. The child she carries is an innocent as well and deserves nothing more than two loving parents. There, I have spoken my mind and I am sorry if I have offended you for I truly did not mean to."

Her words wormed their way into his heart that had become so calloused over the past months, near to five months now, and he could feel himself soften. "You speak with wisdom in your words, Jennessa. They have warmed my heart. Is there anything else you need to speak about?"

Jennessa took a deep breath, as if the weight of all mankind were on her shoulders and she was able to rid herself of it. She smiled and shook her head at him. "Thank you for listening, my lord. She wants nothing more than to be with you right now, so I'll not keep you any longer."

Thorne patted her shoulder and rushed down the corridor to Aspen's room. He pushed open the heavy wooden door to see her laying in bed clean, yet wounded, a cloth bound about her beautiful hair. Her eyes were closed and she looked so at peace he hated to disturb her. He felt odd, as if he were meeting a stranger for the first time for he knew she had to have changed. He closed the door behind him and turned to find she had heard him and opened her eyes, eyes so beautiful they melted him as they had always done before. She offered him a weak smile and then chewed her lower lip in nervousness. So many emotions rushed at him and he felt rooted to where he stood. She was so thin...he wanted to hold her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to tell her he loved her, and yes, he wanted to make love to her. But also he feared her, he pitied her, he felt as though he had let her down, he felt failure in his mission, he hadn't saved her after all...St. Michael still lived. Tears pricked behind his eyes and a lump of confusion settled in his throat. He was not worthy of her. He reached behind him for the latch on the door.

"I did not lay with him," she croaked out, a tear gathering in her eye bejeweled with emerald green, her voice thick with emotion.

She had seen through him and into his soul as she had from the first day he had met her. He looked to her again to find her expression so vulnerable and pained. Love seeped into his heart as he watched a lone tear streak her cheek with its sorrow. He let go of the latch and walked to her bedside feeling the guilt rise as he neared her. Damn himself for wanting to flee. He sat beside her and she covered his hand with hers. He stared at her fair slender fingers against his sun tanned and roughened hand and something raced up his spine at her touch, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and emotion finally overwhelmed him. He pulled her into his embrace feeling her arms about him and he shook with the tremendous amount of love he felt for her and the tears fell from them both.

"Dear God, I love you so much. I had lost hope of finding you, I am so sorry," Thorne whispered against her skin.

"Well, I suppose it was good that I never lost hope that you would find me then, for I knew you would come for me, love," she said to jest with him, but instead she drove a knife straight into his heart. Thorne felt ashamed at his weakness but tried to draw from her strength.

He pulled away from her to look at her, take in every bit of her and found that he could not help but lower his mouth to hers and kiss her gently. The feel of her lips against his own kindled the fire that burned within him that he had nearly allowed to be extinguished by his enemy and that fire engulfed the two and erupted into the passion they had known between them months before, but he did not deepen the kiss. He let her go out of respect of what she had been through and also to let her know that she was important enough to him that he would wait the rest of his days, if that was what it would take, until the wounds from the horrors of the past months could heal and they could share the love they had felt the night they were wed, once again.

Aspen had clung to the hope that her husband would come and save her, as he always had before, and that was what he did. Yet the air felt tense between them when they were alone. It saddened her that he was going to leave her room without even a word until she had told him the truth about not being with Rayven. Something deep within her told her that he was not completely convinced and she knew that was what plagued him. He was seeing her in another man's bed and it sickened him to look at her. In his eyes, she felt she was a ruined woman. She did not know which was worse...being seen as a harlot or being a harlot. And when he had come to her beside, he seemed to see her in a different way...like he was afraid of her and he gifted her with a kiss, so polite and gentle as if she were porcelain, but despite his hesitation, she could feel the heat in it that had begun to encouraged the vines of their love to grow once again...to entwine in the other to be one living entity, the way they were supposed to have been this whole time. The way they had been in her daydreams and her night dreams. It was the moment she had waited for since she struggled with the unseen man the night she had been abducted, but then he pulled away from her and she felt as though he still felt shame toward her.

"Please, Thorne, do not leave me again. I do not know if I could bear to be separated from you again," she whispered with tears shining in her eyes.

"I am not going anywhere, love. We have so much to discuss and Doctor Love will be here by morning, I am sure. If there is anything you wish to talk to me about, I hope that you will do so," he soothed.

Aspen burst into sorrow. "Thorne, I swear on my mother's life that I did not share his bed!" she cried. Thorne marveled at how very jewel-like her eyes became when touched by emotion. "I can feel that you are ashamed of me and I hate it!"

"I do not feel shame, my love," he soothed and half lied, "I am just unsure of what you want me to do for you. I do not know the terror you have felt at St. Michael's hand and one day I want to know. But I do not want to scare you. I do not want you to do anything you do not want to until you are ready. I know you have wounds that need healing and I want nothing more than to help you. But what I do not want is for you to bury these things within you where they will fester and infect your soul until you become hardened and impervious as I had become. You are too wonderful for me to lose you to the depths of misery. You have pulled me out and back into the land of the living...it is my turn to do the same for you."

"Even in my darkest hours, when I begged for death to claim me, I still knew you would come for me. The rumble of the earth as your army fought was one of the most comforting sounds I have ever heard. I want things to be right, for the love we share is stronger because of all we have been through, apart and together. I just want you to stay with me now. We have the rest of our lives to share our stories for I am sure I am not the only one who has been tortured," she sniffed as she wiped at her eyes.

"I will stay, but I want you to rest, darling. We have the rest of our lives..." he said pulling up the blankets to her chin.

He turned from her and she watched as he limped to the chair by the fire. His gait was something she had become used to, she rarely even noticed it, but this time she realized how endearing it was. It was a part of him and she loved him. He sat in the chair and her eyes closed on his smile.

Thorne sat in the chair and slumped a bit for comfort, his arms settling across his chest and he looked back at Aspen just as her eyes fluttered, as they always had, as she was lost to sleep. A smile curved his lips and touched the corners of his eyes. He thought back to the lonely night in the camp as he spent hours thinking of her and he realized that he had not remembered that she did this. He marveled at how even her breathing was and how she nuzzled her pillow with her cheek as she dreamt and he cherished the way her feminine hand cupped her face and she'd sigh. Dear Lord, how he had missed her. And as suddenly as he had felt the warm familiarity of her habits, guilt invaded his soul to torture him and he sat forward, his head falling into his hands and the tears of his own betrayal threatened to fall. Why could he not move past the visions of St. Michael with his wife? She told him what she knew to be the truth as did Jennessa, but who really knew?

A quiet knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts and Jennessa peeked inside looking for him. She beckoned him out into the corridor since Aspen was sleeping and he rose to limp outside the door where he found Glade standing there, holding parchments and bundles of cloth. The puzzled look on Thorne's face prompted Glade to speak.

"We found these, my lord," Glade said holding out his findings.

Thorne scooped them into his arms. "What is all this?" he asked.

"Well, my lord, we searched a cottage at the rear of the castle grounds and found parchments written by St. Michael's mistress. From what I have read, she is behind Aspen's poisoning. The parcels there are full of a white powder...the actual poison. There are lists of people she gave the poison to and many letters from a woman named Mary begging this woman to have mercy and call off the murder of Aspen. The other books are record books I thought you might want to look at that are written by the hand of the late earl and Rayven himself. They prove to be very interesting reading," Glade said with a wicked grin.

"Do you have any other news?" Thorne asked juggling the articles in his arms.

"Many of the villagers, mostly women, are confused about the changes that will take place here with no leader, but I do not expect an uprising. I think that change is hard even when it is for the better," Glade replied. "How long do you intend to stay here before going back to Cliffehaven?"

"As long as it takes for Aspen to be well enough for the trip home. Perhaps Tomas should go ahead of us to ensure that Aspen comes home to a full staff and that decaying bodies do not spread disease. I want there to be a wonderful reception when she comes back. I also need you to dispatch someone to fetch the doctor and the Father. Aspen needs medical attention and a blessing of health."

"Pardon me, my lord, but I already spoke to Glade about that and a man was sent already to fetch them," Jennessa said afraid of retaliation, hiding behind Glade for protection.

"Thank you, her ladyship is so lucky to have you all to look after her," he smiled. He nearly laughed when he watched Jennessa visibly relax. "I am going to look these over while Aspen sleeps and we will confer in the morn, Glade. Good work today, my friend."

"Shall I meet you in the study after the morning meal, my lord?" Glade asked.

"Aye, I'll see you there," Thorne smiled comfortably.

Thorne returned to his chair laying the articles he was given on the floor while he poked at the fire to provoke the flames mulling Glade's information around in his head. So, the mistress was behind Aspen's brush with death and all the parcels on the floor at his feet were full of a deadly poison. Curiosity nagged at him until he set the poker down and reached for a record book. He opened it to find the scrawling writing of the late earl and he spent the better part of the day learning of the twisted corridors of his uncle's mind. He read of the encounters with Aspen's mother and numerous other women in the village and how he saw his grace in Aspen as a child and therefore he wanted her educated without taking responsibility for her as his daughter. It would ruin his image if anyone found out his secret...if Aspen found out. If every child was schooled, no one would think any different and he would be celebrated and respected in his efforts. Thorne found that Aspen was the subject of nearly every entry...he watched her very closely and was angered by the regular beatings Vatric delivered upon her frail body but he could not say anything because Vatric suspected that Aspen was not of his own loins, but he blamed his wife, the beautiful Lyndsay. And then he read of a day that Aspen played the harp for the earl and how he loved her so and wanted her to marry her half-brother to keep the bloodline pure. The next entry spoke of her disappearance and he feared that Vatric had killed her so he had the man imprisoned until he told the truth of her whereabouts. He was tortured painfully and still he would not speak of where she was, but denied her death. One of the last entries talked of Aspen's audience with he and Rayven, the way he tried to make her turn on the Darktower family and the stubborn way she ran out before he could propose the match between her and Rayven. The seed was sent as a part of the plan to take over Cliffehaven, which he had begun to put into motion. The last entry was written in a woman's hand and was virtually a confession of his evil ways and his apology to all he had wronged, including the Darktower family. It was his deathbed confession, his hope to be let into the gates of Heaven, but Thorne was sure that he had secured his own lair in Hell.

As Thorne began reading the record book of the Devil's son, he saw the sickness that the father had created and had passed to the child at a very young age. Rayven was the heir, the first son born to Wilford and therefore he patterned himself after the great earl that everyone loved to fear. He read of how the woman called Debrin willingly tossed up her skirts to worm her way into the family by bearing a child. Rayven was very angry and wanted her to be put to death for trying to manipulate him by using the child and the hope of bearing a son to control him. The record told of how he tortured Vatric to tell him where Aspen had been taken to by the slicing of the skin to promote infection to set in down in the dungeons and kill him in the end, slowly...and Thorne could also feel Rayven's frustration through his words when Vatric refused to give up his daughter's whereabouts.

Thorne turned the page to find a sketch of Aspen filling one page and Rayven's words of true and undying love for her and how he would take her if he had to, but she would belong to him. In the pages that followed, he read of the plans to take the keep at Cliffehaven and how he would quarter Thorne's body and hide his pieces so he could not be buried on hallowed ground and would be bound to wander the planes of existence for eternity as a lost soul. He read in detail of Aspen's abduction and the path she would take to be brought to him, how she would be broken and tamed on her journey with Rocky and Glade and how he would not have to be bothered with her. Thorne learned of the herb Rayven had used to make her lose her memories and the joy it brought to him as he watched Thorne fade from her mind, how Aspen tried to escape and he caught her and had intended to plow her belly and fill her full of his seed until Glade tried to stop him, and how Rayven began seeing Aspen in his bed and feared her to be a witch until he went to see her for himself and she angered him by refusing to offer him the respect he felt he deserved. He read of how Rayven would not feed her until she would obey...and that she would not obey no matter how he tried so he welcomed Debrin back into his bed as she reminded him of Aspen. And the writing stopped. No clues as to where he had run to, no clues on where to begin looking for him or Debrin.

Thorne read the letters from Mary and he closed his eyes against the images of her stiff body laying in her bed having ingested all of the poison meant for his wife. If only he had known what was happening, he could have saved Mary from death and Aspen from so many other horrors. Mary should not have had to die and he regretted leaving her body where the wild animals would find her and eat her instead of giving John the burial on consecrated ground he had wanted and nearly begged for. He learned of Debrin's extreme hatred for Aspen and how she would stop at nothing to be rid of the pest that clung to Rayven's thoughts...if she was dead, he would turn his attention to her and their child. All that mattered to her was bearing the heir that would win her a place in the St. Michael family. Thorne looked over the list of names she had made who would die from her poison...Aspen, the earl, and the entire family. She had even listed her own daughter to be given the powder because she was not a son. Thorne threw the pages across the room feeling sickened by what had been going on while he was learning to be happy and fall in love. He had been blinded of all the treachery, blinded by one woman's goodness and a hope for a bright future and did not see the evil around him that threatened to steal all that he held dear.

Thorne stood and ambled to the window listening to the rhythm of Aspen's breath to see the colors of the fading sun smearing the sky with radiance and kissing the clouds with vibrant color. In the distance he could see the beginnings of the familiar fog that would settle in around them through the night and would burn off in the morn if they were lucky enough to see the sunshine. He realized that he was longing for the sounds of the ocean, the roar of the surf as it rolled upon the shore, the call of the birds as they searched for food over the water...the sounds of home.

"Are you hungry, my lord?" Jennessa was asking him. He hadn't even heard her enter.

"Aye, a bit perhaps," he answered rubbing his hand over his belly.

"We need to wake her and see if she will eat with you. I had hoped you were hungry so she would at least try," Jennessa said staring at her friend in worry.

"You may leave the tray on the bed next to her and I will rouse her. I plan on staying in here tonight with her, so you may tend Glade or the other wounded," Thorne said.

"I will see to it that a bath awaits you in the morn, my lord," she replied bobbing a curtsy.

"Thank you, Jennessa. Thank you for being such a great friend to Aspen."

Jennessa smiled and bowed her head humbly, closing the door behind her.

Thorne sat beside his sleeping lady and kissed her cheek to wake her. Her eyelids were heavy as she looked at him, a smile brightening her features.

"'Tis time for the evening meal, Aspen. I thought I'd better wake you," he said returning her smile.

"I am glad to see your face, husband, but I am not hungry," she said.

"You are hungry, I know you must be, and Jennessa went to the trouble to make us a tray so sit up and I'll fluff your pillow and we shall feast together," he coaxed.

Aspen did as she was bid and nibbled at a bit of cheese and bread, and Thorne fed her chunks of venison from his trencher of stew. He drank brandy while she sipped at a cup of water and she had reached her limit pushing away all other morsels and refusing any more drink.

Thorne gave up trying to get her to eat and took her hand in his. "I am happy to see you eat what you did. You are in desperate need of nourishment and what you did eat will do you well," he said throwing a wink her way, the corners of his mouth quirked up as if he were amused.

They spoke of general things such as the weather and camp food and a rough plan for the day ahead. Suddenly, Aspen's stomach cramped in knots unlike any she had ever known and she writhed around on her bed as Thorne began to panic wishing the good doctor was there already. He stayed at her side as she cried out in pain as her legs joined her belly in knotting up. Thorne tried to massage her and she screamed, her toes bent in awkward angles and her leg muscles bulging unnaturally.

"Shall I get help?" he asked her trying not to sound scared.

She only moaned in response so Thorne took off down the corridor to find the only man he could think of that may be of any help. Glade. He found him feasting in the great hall and nearly yanked him from his seat bellowing at him all the while.

Aspen was still in pain when they returned and Glade told them that it was a shock to the body to take in food after such a long time without food or water. He had seen it many times before with slaves in the Orients. He explained that she must continue to eat and the pain will subside once her body was not starving any longer. Thorne breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Glade for being there. Glade took his leave and Aspen broke into tears of pain clutching at Thorne's clothing and reveling at the feel of his arms about her. His hands rubbed her back and he repeatedly kissed her forehead whispering words of encouragement to her until all the cramping subsided and she fell back against her pillows exhausted. Thorne stirred the fire once more and snuffed out the candles, closed the shutters and climbed into bed only pausing to remove his boots before he snuggled himself against her...this was where he belonged.

Dark dreams plagued Aspen's mind as the shadows grew longer in the firelight, but the morning brought the promise of a new day...the first day of the rest of their lives together. She remembered telling her father about how she wanted to wake up in the morn to watch her husband dream and a fond grin tweaked her lips as she turned her head to see him sleeping next to her. She watched his breathing and could not help but reach out to him and stroke the silver hairs that seemed to have multiplied in her absence. His face had weathered a bit, new creases lined his eyes and forehead and he had grown a beard while he had been in his camp. He had worked hard and she had felt the strength of him last eve as he held her tight. It was like unto looking at someone you used to know, but seeing a new person in his place. But then his eyes opened to her and she could see through those windows of his soul and he was not so different after all.

He smiled at her, so thankful to wake up next to her again, and stretched, propping himself up on his elbow looking down at her. His hand cupped her face and she closed her eyes to revel in the feeling, his warmth spreading over her like a blanket and the next thing she knew, his lips were brushing hers. She sucked in her breath and her arms wrapped themselves about his neck. Her actions took him by surprise and as she pressed herself closer to him, his hand moved to the back of her neck to embrace her. Once again the flames of desire claimed each of them and small kisses turned to be more intimate until they were both panting for air but not wanting it to end. And then, the door opened.

Jennessa stood in the doorway with supplies for bathing weighing her arms down. She thought the rest of the castle was still sleeping, but she saw her lord and lady awake, in such a tender embrace and she felt rooted to where she was. Jennessa knew she should leave and give them their privacy, but she was so elated that they were growing closer that she could not move. They must have heard her and jumped apart staring at her as if they had been caught stealing something of value. She bobbed them a curtsy and moved her eyes to the floor. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"I didn't think anyone was up yet and thought I would get fires started for baths," she said barely above a whisper but trying not to smile in her happiness for them.

"Of course, Jennessa, enter and do what you must," Thorne said trying to hide his very obvious reaction to kissing his wife good morn. He turned to Aspen and said, "I suppose I shall leave you to your bath, my lady."

Panic seemed to fill her where passion had once been. She grasped his hand and squeezed. "Please don't leave me yet."

"You'll be fine, Jennessa is here to attend you," he said feeling a bit out of place.

"I want you to tend to me, Thorne," she said low.

Thorne knew she hadn't meant it as it had sounded but nevertheless, his body responded and he felt unsure of himself. He had just led and army of men to fight for him and now, here, he was not sure what he should do. The pained look on her face was enough to sway him and he agreed to stay with her.

Jennessa brought them pastries with fruit jelly to eat as they waited for the water to warm and fill the tub that was set before the fireplace. Thorne urged Aspen to eat and in his opinion, she did very well. He knew she was afraid of the cramping to start again, but he assured her that it was temporary as long as she kept eating.

Finally the tub was full and steaming, sandalwood oils spreading their fragrance through the room, its woodsy smell comforting. Jennessa knew that Thorne would stay so she handed him the soap and instructed him to wash the lard from Aspen's hair. She told him that if he could still see the bugs moving that they would have to cut her hair shorter so they could be rid of them. She said she would return to see that Aspen went back to bed. Thorne thanked her as she closed the door on them and smiled to herself out in the corridor.

Thorne helped Aspen from her bed and held her up to walk to the tub, she was still so weak. She reminded him a newborn horse standing for the first time trying to find the strength within itself. He drew the nightdress over her head and gasped aloud at the many sores that marred her body and the bones that protruded from her body beneath her skin. And then his eyes settled on her belly and he knew that Jennessa was correct in the fact that Aspen was with child. His eyes closed on the sight and a deep sigh blew from his chest.

"My lord?" Aspen asked puzzled.

"Oh, my love," he said opening his eyes again, "I wish I could have come for you sooner. I wish I could have prevented all the suffering you have been through."

Aspen hung her head. He pitied her more than she had thought. His guilt overwhelmed him and she felt guilt as well. She raised her head again to look him in the eyes. "I want to forget all that, Thorne. I want to start again with the only man I have ever loved. Do not look at me as broken, but look at me as you did the night we were wed. If I need anything from you, it is that," she said sternly.

"I am sorry, Aspen. It will take me some time before I do not feel guilty any longer. It will take even longer before I will stop thinking of what I could have done differently to have saved you before you were ever even taken from me. But in the mean time, I want to love you like I have since the moment I saw you. I want to build a life with you and our family...little Mira misses us greatly. You are cold, love, step into the tub and be warm. I will wash your hair for you," he said to drop the subject and cure her gooseflesh. He helped her to step in and heard her moan of pleasure as the warm water soothed her aches.

"My lord, surely you could use a bath as well and there is plenty of room in here. I am sure it would be easier to wash my hair if you were a bit closer to me," she said shyly.

He was glad she wanted him near her...that he did not scare her, and so he stripped down and slipped into the wonderful water. He had grown so tired of taking baths in the creek back at the camp and he had taken a warm bath for granted his entire life. He didn't think he would ever forget the chill of the creek water each time he was able to enjoy a warm bath. He sat down and beckoned Aspen to sit before him and she obeyed. He took the cloth from her head and checked for signs of life on her scalp. He saw none. He instructed her to let her head fall back toward him and he found it odd that it was erotic to watch her as he dampened her hair, her chin pointed to the rafters, her eyes closed, her slender neck so inviting. He sat her back up and rubbed the bar of soap against her locks and then kneaded the mass until it bubbled with lather. Again she allowed him to rinse her hair and wash it once more to remove all the lard and he leaned forward and kissed her mouth upside down. She smiled at him and he pulled her closer to sit upon his legs rubbing the soap over her shoulders and her arms, kissing her neck as he went. He continued to wash her until he was cupping her breasts in his hands. He was amazed at how they had changed in size since she had been pregnant and his own body wracked him with a fierce need, but he knew he must wait until she had been examined by the doctor. And then his hands fell to her belly and he felt her stiffen. But a miracle happened just then, life stirred within her and the child kicked under the weight of Thorne's hands and his breath caught in his throat. The child moved! The child wanted him to know of its existence.

"Thorne..." Aspen began but Thorne put a finger to her mouth to silence her.

"I knew you were with child, Aspen," he said.

"He was conceived by the two of us, on the eve our wedding," she replied.

"How do you know this?" he asked.

Aspen then told him of the meeting with her grandmother and the appearance of the spirits in her cell and what she had been told of her son. Something moved within Thorne and for as cracked up as it sounded, he believed her and finally felt at peace with the child, no his child, and his wife.

"I love you, and I love him," he said resting his hands on her womb once again hoping to feel him move again but was disappointed. Aspen turned and kissed him with all the love she held inside for him.

It was not long after that Aspen's hair had been dried by the fire and she was tucked back into her bed. Jennessa was glad they would not have to cut her beautiful hair after all and that the two lovers seemed to be comfortable around each other again.

Thorne dressed in fresh clothing from his pack and told Aspen he would return after his meetings. He planted his lips upon her forehead and felt a hesitation to leave her.

"I will be quick, darling. I love you," he said.

She smiled at him and patted his hand. "I know you will, and I love you too," she said and watched him leave.

As Thorne opened the door, he was met by the good doctor who was about to knock. Thorne beamed at him, thankful that Aspen would be well taken care of in his absence.

"'Tis good to see you again, doctor!" Thorne said shaking the man's hand enthusiastically.

"'Tis good to see you as well, boy!" the doctor replied. Thorne could not believe how he had aged since he had left his keep. Doctor Love turned to Aspen and his heart broke for she was so gaunt and weak looking. No more was the strong woman who went rounds with his lord to get her way; the light in her eyes went out as Thorne left the room. "And how do you fare, my lady?"

"I feel a bit better already, Doctor Love," she replied sounding weary, but she smiled.

"Well, I want to examine you and be sure that you are still as fit as you once were," he smiled back, his gray eyes kind and nearly hidden by his graying, bushy eyebrows. He had more pronounced cheekbones now and thin lips with a cleft in his chin that seemed deeper. Aspen, too, could tell how he had aged the last months.

Doctor Love opened his bag and removed his instruments as he had many times before when he visited her and began his examination.

"How is my father?" she asked.

Doctor Love stopped what he was doing to look at her, a bit of pity hiding in his eyes then. "He is not as fortunate as you, my lady. He has scurvy, and very badly. If that is not bad enough, he was severely tortured and will lose his left leg. If I don't remove it, he will die of gangrene. He is my next patient...I will put him to sleep and remove the infected appendage and he should wake in any number of hours to begin to heal," he answered her honestly.

Aspen chewed her lip to keep the tears back. "I want to see him before you put him to sleep," she said.

"Nay, you cannot. I do not think it wise, my lady," he said adamantly, shaking his head.

"I must! If he dies, I will never be able to tell him that I forgive him! He is all the family I have left!" she said her voice rising octaves to panic.

"Aspen, he is very ill and in a tremendous amount of pain. He'll not even know you are with him. If all goes well, you may see him in the morn," he explained.

"And if all does not go well?" she asked with silent tears coursing down her face.

"I believe he will know you have forgiven him, child. I think it is for your own conscience that you wish to voice it," he said wisely.

"Then you will tell him for me. You will tell him before he goes to sleep that I said that I forgive him and that he had better not give up. Tell him I need him," she cried.

The doctor bowed his head to keep his own emotions at bay. "I will tell him, my lady," he replied.

### Chapter 21

Thorne found the study and walked inside to find both Glade and King Rothan sitting before the fire conversing. Their heads snapped his way when they heard his heavy boots against the stone floor. Glade stood and bowed to his lord and Thorne kissed the ring of his king, curiosity spreading over his face.

"I shall leave the two of you to discuss matters," said Glade trying to be respectful.

Rothan held up his chubby hand in a signal to stay where he was. "Nay, I wish for you to be present for this meeting, Glade. You are the leader of Thorne's defenses and should be aware of changes made," he said.

Thorne closed the doors and took a seat in an upholstered wooden chair in front of the fire leaving Rothan and Glade to share a sofa of brown leather. His elbows fell to the arms of the chair, his index fingers steepled beneath his bearded chin and his thoughts wandering to his wife and the doctor. He hoped she was healthy and the child was well.

"How is Aspen?" Rothan asked, guessing where Thorne's head was.

"She improves. She is still very weak and tires easily, but her spirits are high and she awaits the trip home," he said hoping to avoid further questioning lest the subject of her pregnancy comes up. He may have believed her story of her grandmother, but other people may not be so receptive.

"I was told that she was like unto a skeleton as you pulled her from her cell and she was covered in lice," Rothan said wanting more of an explanation.

"Aye, she is very thin. I helped her bathe this morn and she is all ribs and knees and elbows. There's not a bit of healthy fat on her anymore, your majesty. But she has been eating very well, in my opinion, so she should return to her former self in no time. Really, she fares well. As for the lice, Jennessa cured her of them without having to cut off her hair, God bless her. There now, can we please move on to other matters?" Thorne said with annoyance evident in his voice.

"I hear that St. Michael survives," Rothan began.

Thorne glanced at Glade. "Aye. He sent another dressed in his own armor, Sire. It shames me to know that I fell for his tactic and allowed his escape," he sighed in defeat.

"We felt that guards should stay at an alert in the event St. Michael returns, Your Majesty. But we also feel that no one else needs to know that he lives...especially her ladyship. It would just make everything worse," Glade interjected.

Rothan nodded his head thoughtfully. "You know that he will try again, do you not? Perhaps we should send trackers to find him."

"We know he will come after his prize. But when he does, I will be ready for him and I welcome him to try! He is a foul soul. It is just a matter of keeping the protection sufficient," Thorne replied. "I would rather keep my forces strong here than send them off to trail a slippery villain."

Rothan cleared his throat. "My lord Darktower, this may well be the worst decision you have made yet, but you have shown incredible integrity in your decisions and commands. I have developed a newfound respect for you and wish to award you for your valor. Before I take my leave, I am prepared to title you my Grand Duke of Elgolan and you will oversee and rule the southern half of the territory. We will be in very close contact with each other and you will inform me of important matters that should require my attention. I have already sent for my second born son, Sauren, to be wed to the girl found in the floor...Marrissa was her name, yes? They will act as the stewards of Rosehill until which time that Cliffehaven grows into Rosehill to create one city like Farrin. That is my challenge to you, to grow the area and increase the coin in your pocket. What say you?"

"I am deeply honored by your award, sire. I accept your challenge," Thorne replied, an enormous smile brightening his face. He could not believe that he was to be a Grand Duke...the closest there was to being a king! He stood, bowed to his king, shook his hand to seal the deal and sat back in his chair to deliver a reward of his own.

"Glade," he began watching Glade shift a bit in his seat, "I value you greatly as my captain and I put my trust in your talents. It was your advice after Cappy's death that got us through this battle. It was you risking your own life to save my wife's that spared her. I have seen how you look at Jennessa, and she at you, and I want to offer you a home and a parcel of land in the event that you marry the girl, which I think you should do. I will see to it that you have a milk cow and a team of horses and a buggy, not to mention chickens and goats. Furthermore, I would like to ask his majesty to award you with the title of knight so you will be known to all as Sir Glade...what is your given name anyway?" Thorne added thoughtfully. The three men shared a laugh.

"My given name is Jemenis Canter," he replied. "I have been called Glade for most of my life because of my tracking ability, my lord."

"Then you will be Sir Jemenis Canter to all," Thorne said in a mighty voice.

"I do believe that if any man deserved a knighthood, it would be you, Jemenis," Rothan said very sincerely. He knew what the man had been through to defeat the St. Michaels and he commended him for it. He did not know many who would have been able to play both sides to save one person, no matter how special she was.

"Thank you your majesty, my lord," he said humbly. Unable to shake hands, he bowed painfully to show his respect and appreciation.

"Then it is settled. I wish to depart for home in four days as long as my wife can travel that soon," Thorne said. "We are prepared to have a great feast when we arrive and Aspen and I will be married once more in front of all who wish to attend but they will have to know that we were married some time ago and I encourage you both to be there," He saw a dark look pass over Rothan's face.

"I do not think I will be able to attend, my lord Darktower. There are other matters that I must see to. I have, after all, been away for quite a spell," Rothan said uncomfortably.

"I see. Aspen will be very disappointed, Sire." Thorne tried to guilt him into staying.

"I have arranged for an assembly to be held for all the villagers to attend before we go our own ways and there, will you be officially awarded your gifts," Rothan explained.

"And when is this to take place?" Thorne asked him.

"Three days hence, my lord. I hope that Aspen is well enough to be present."

"I am sure she will be."

"Before then, we should be out greeting the villagers and answering their questions and quieting their fears. I thought that we could go this afternoon after the midday and on the morrow as well," Rothan said.

Thorne was not sure he wanted to be out without Aspen by his side and he wrestled with the thought of leaving her behind. But he knew Rothan was right and he needed to do his duty to the people. He nodded. "I will be eating with Aspen and I will let her know that I must go," he said.

Rothan felt badly for him for he knew that he would have a difficult time leaving her too. But, he also knew that people do not govern themselves and too long a pause in normalcy could result in an uprising. It simply had to be done.

"I suppose that Glade here has a chore of his own today...to get his wench to marry him," Thorne said to make the pain in his heart diminish. The three of them laughed again and Glade blushed in embarrassment cursing their heads all in good fun.

Thorne was glad that the meeting went quickly. He wanted to speak to Rothan later of gifting a few other men such as Valiant and Miquel at his feast as well. But first he wanted to get back to Aspen and hear what the doctor had to say. He saw the doctor emerging from the room as he rounded the corner but could not tell by his look if he had good news or bad.

"My lord," the doctor greeted. "I have finished my examination and the Father is in there now to bless her and let her pray with him.

"Is she going to be all right?" Thorne asked getting a bit worried.

"Aye, she is doing much better. She told me of the cramps in her belly and her legs and that is a normal reaction for the body emerging from a state of starvation and lack of fluids. But I did find something that may interest you...Aspen is quite far along in a pregnancy. I thought you would care to know."

Thorne smiled. "Thank you, Doc. I knew of it already and the babe is my son. St. Michael did not take her while she was here. Don't look at me that way, we were married in secret the night before she disappeared and we did consummate our marriage in the event that St. Michael decided to do what he did."

"That would be about right, my calculations tell me she should birth her child in early to mid March. I suppose congratulations are in order, my lord. I'll have to quit calling you 'boy' now, for you are a great man," Doctor Love said with pride.

Thorne just smiled and chuckled softly. "How is her father?"

"Not well, I am afraid. I am headed there now to remove his left leg. Do not let Aspen see him until I know the scurvy is under control. He is badly wounded and she will probably have a hard time seeing him. She remembers him as she knew him before she left home, but now he is disfigured and many of his bones have been broken and not set so he will have limited use of his hands and may only have use of one eye...you get the picture," he replied.

"How soon before he could travel?" Thorne asked.

"If he makes it? I would say that he should be still for weeks, my lord."

"He could not be transported by wagon to Cliffehaven in a few days? Could he not heal there at the castle?"

"He is very ill and the pain he will endure in the next weeks is bad enough but to place him in yet another unfamiliar home where he could chance to infect the other people will be harder on him. I'll see how he is doing as you are readying to leave and we will make a decision based on his progress."

"Thank you, Doctor. I just know that if he lives, Aspen is not going to want to leave here without him."

"I understand, my lord," he said and winked as he started down the corridor.

Thorne cracked the door to see if he would be disturbing Father Goodson if he entered. The two were talking, Aspen was probably telling him her story to lighten her load and asking for forgiveness for any sin she may have committed. The Father crossed himself and Aspen followed suit and together they prayed. Then Father Goodson rose and bowed to her and Thorne entered. Aspen's face beamed but he could tell that she had been crying. He crossed the room and kissed her mouth in greeting, then turned to smile at the Father who stood before him smiling, the twinkle in his crystal blue eyes was still there and his hands were tucked into the voluminous sleeves of his brown robe.

"'Tis good to see you, Father!" Thorne said emphatically.

Father Goodson laughed his jolly laugh and they talked briefly of past events and how either man could not wait for things to be right again. Jennessa brought in a tray of food for Aspen and himself and the Father excused himself so they could enjoy their meal. He wished for the best for Aspen and they both thanked him for his blessings as he seemed to float from the room with a holy grace.

Thorne laid across the foot of the bed propped on one elbow and set a chunk of cheese upon a bit of bread to pop it into his mouth. "The good doctor says you are doing very well. How are you feeling?"

Aspen nibbled on some bread and graced him with a brilliant smile. "I feel very well today, thank you. I cannot wait to be free of this bed," she laughed.

"If all goes according to plan, we will return to Cliffehaven four days hence," he said knowing what her answer would be.

Aspen knitted her brows together and her hands fell to her lap. "My father needs to be able to travel when we go. I'll not leave him," she said sternly.

Thorne sighed. "We have our people to think about at home, Aspen. You are now their leader as am I, and the good of all of them comes before your own desires. Is that not what you told me once?"

Aspen sat there with her mouth hanging open and no words would come out. He was right and she hated it when he was right. "Very well, because you are my husband, I must do as you say," she said almost defiantly.

Thorne laughed out loud. He knew she did not believe the words that had just left her lips. She would never do as he said just because he was her husband. She knew he had caught her with her own words of wisdom and she had to make it seem as though he were merely ordering her around in the name of marriage. "I will do my best to see that your father goes with us. If he is not well enough, I will make certain he joins us when his strength returns."

She nodded in silence, the dark shadows returning to her eyes and he wondered if he was making a mistake in forcing her to go. He told her about having to meet the people of Rosehill and that he would return as quickly as possible. She looked at him with worry in her eyes. She was not telling him something, he could tell. He reassured her and asked Jennessa to spend the afternoon with her, which she was more than happy to do.

Aspen was afraid to let him go. Somewhere in the pit of her belly, she still felt that Rayven was not dead and she was so scared when Thorne was not there with her. Jennessa sat with her all the afternoon teaching her how to embroider on cloth to pass the time. Aspen was excited to learn for it was something she had always wanted to do but never had been shown how. Carefully, she pulled the needle and thread from the fabric and pushed it back through seeing a flower form before her eyes and she smiled at her work. Jennessa peeked at her flower and nodded her approval.

The sun had begun to set when Aspen fell asleep with her sewing in her hands. Jennessa tucked her tight and set her work aside for another day.

The next three days were full of making travel preparations and deciding what staff would stay at Rosehill and which would be going on to Cliffehaven. Aspen was found a gown for the festivities the evening of the third night. She was feeling more the thing and had been up and around to build her strength back up. Vatric lived through the operation and battled a fever for the first days, but was awake and coherent the third day. He saw Aspen for the first time after his leg had been taken off and he told her how he could swear that his leg was still there. Losing his limb mattered little to him for he had lived a hard life but was lucky...no thankful, to be alive to enjoy his daughter's company. She told him he was to come to Cliffehaven with them the next day and he shook his head at her saying he was not ready to go yet, but he promised her he would be along in due time. Aspen told him she wanted to wait for him, but she needed to return with Thorne to their people. He told her that even if it was not the case, he would still insist that she went along without him. She looked hurt by his words, but he explained further that being married to someone makes them one entity and what one does, the other should as well regardless of their station in life.

Rothan's son, Sauren, arrived the afternoon of the third day and they stayed in meetings with Thorne and Glade most of the day making decisions about the government of the southern half of the territory. Sauren, with his eyes of deep blue and hair like ripe wheat, sharp cheekbones and full lips was introduced to his future bride of sixteen, Marrissa. There was an immediate connection between the two, Thorne could feel it like kindling on two fires that grew with the thirst of love striving to become one. He was hopeful because not all arranged marriages were that way. Rothan told them that they would be wed that evening before the feast for all who wished to attend. Parchments had been delivered to every home in the village announcing the wedding and the feast to follow, where the shifts in leadership would be explained.

Thorne went back to Aspen's room to bathe and change before the ceremony and found his wife sitting on the edge of her bed, Jennessa dressing her hair in plaits that wound around her head. She appeared so regal and elegant that Thorne wondered how he was so fortunate to have her for his own.

"Good day, my lord," Jennessa said bobbing a curtsy, her hands full of hair.

"Good day to you," Thorne replied striding over to kiss his wife in greeting.

"How goes it, my lord?" she asked smiling at him.

"It all goes well, my love. I will hop in the water a moment so I will be clean for the gathering. Don't peek," he said jesting, but Aspen blushed and Jennessa did as well.

"My lord, I can have fresh water put into the tub and her ladyship and I can go to another room to give you some privacy," Jennessa offered staring at the floor.

"Really, it is fine. I will bathe quickly for I haven't enough time to wait for new water. I will be sure to tell you when to close your eyes if it will bother you," he smiled thinking it funny that women were so modest. But, truth be told, he loved that about his wife. Thorne discarded his shirt and Aspen had a difficult time not turning to look at his chest, but she managed. Soon, she heard his breeches slide to the floor after the thump of his boots as he had pulled them off.

"Close your eyes, fair maidens," he laughed as he slipped into the cooling water.

Jenenssa finished with Aspen's hair and set a blanket by the fire for her lord while he scrubbed himself. Then she took Aspen's gown and had her step into the fine silk the color of the first fallen snow and trimmed in velvet the color of pine boughs and gold. She laced up the gown in the back and tied the gold ribbon that ran from just under her breasts to her back. Jennessa felt a twinge of jealousy as she fingered the fine lace of the over sleeves and set the velvet just right around her neckline and the cuffs, for she was not fortunate enough to move up in station as Aspen had been.

"There, you are all ready, my lady," Jennessa said trying to be happy for her friend.

"Now we must find something for you," Aspen said smiling.

"Nay, I'll be waiting for you to finish and then be getting you ready for bed," Jennessa replied.

"Not this night. We will find something for you, you must look stunning tonight," Aspen said warming Jennessa's heart.

"Wait!" Jennessa cried just remembering, "I found this and thought you may want it," she said pulling a cloth bundle from her apron pocket.

Aspen took it from her and opened it as tears flooded her eyes. There in her hand was her wedding band and the necklace and ring from her king. She hugged Jennessa tight thanking her over and over. Thorne was so glad for the hundredth time that Jennessa was there for Aspen for she needed a good friend, an honest friend. Aspen slid her wedding band on and the Ring of Favour as well and Jennessa clasped the magnificent blue heart about Aspen's neck transforming her into a princess.

"Come, Jennessa, let us go find you a gown," Aspen urged.

Jennessa shook her head stubbornly.

Thorne placed a kind hand on the girl's shoulder. "Jennessa, this will be a night that no one will forget. It is history in the making and I want you there in the finest dress you can find. Now go! Aspen, be quick because I want you on my arm. Jennessa needs to sit on your right and Glade will be on my left at the feast. Be certain she is there," he said winking at her.

Aspen's smile grew wide for she knew what was going to happen and she was so happy for her friend. Jennessa deserved it as much as anyone else Aspen could think of. She nodded to her husband and left him there near to freezing in the water.

It took no time to find a gown from Marissa's wardrobe and, with Jennessa's help, Aspen dressed Jennessa's hair in a simple chignon with tendrils of hair escaping to fall against her jaw line and whisper about her neck. Aspen could see how she was enjoying herself and wished her own fortune could become Jennessa's.

"You are coming along to Cliffehaven are you not?" Aspen asked her.

Jennessa grew quite silent before speaking. "I think I will stay here. Rosehill is my home...it is all I have ever known. I am sure I can secure a position working for the steward here in the castle."

"But I want you to come with me and work in my castle," Aspen said hearing her simpering voice and hating it.

"Thank you, Aspen. You are a true friend, but besides you, there is nothing for me over there."

"Perhaps there is...what of Glade? Can you tell me that you do not love him?" Aspen asked with a mischievous grin.

"Mayhap I do love him, but he loves me not. Sometimes I feel that he looks at me fondly and others it is as if am not there at all," Jennessa confided.

"Glade is a quiet and private man. I think it is hard for such a man to reveal the secrets of his heart. I hope you will think hard on my proposal. I haven't had very good luck with maidservants since I came to Cliffehaven and I would compensate you well for the move. Think on it for we leave on the morrow, but for now we had best get to my room to meet Thorne. You are to sit on my right and Glade is to sit on Thorne's left. First, however, is the wedding of Sauren and Marrissa. We must be there to wish them all the best," Aspen smiled.

Thorne was pacing the room and cursing women and their vanity as Aspen burst through the door looking more like her usual self, her small belly concealed beneath layers of gathered silk. She was so elegant and she sported an enormous smile as she placed her hands on his chest, stepped up on her toes and planted a kiss of contentment on his lips.

"Are you ready, my darling?" Thorne asked forgetting about his annoyance and feeling his body responding to her charisma.

"I am ready to stand at your side in front of all those people," she said in a low purr.

"And how is my son?" he asked rubbing his hand over her belly and smiling fondly.

His sentiment touched her heart and her hand covered his, love shining at him through her eyes and his, in turn, mirrored her affections. He could not help himself and bent to take her lips with his, kissing her with a ferocious need. His arms slid around her back to pull her close against him and her arms wound themselves beneath his, the palms of her hands coming to rest upon his broad shoulders and they kissed there, locked in the embrace of intimacy, frozen in a moment in time where no one else existed and nothing but themselves mattered. Aspen had not felt so passionate as she did at that time and while Thorne had wondered if his heart could feel the same for her after all that had transpired, that one moment reassured him that they did, in fact, love each other dearly like none other.

They broke the kiss and Aspen bit on her lower lip trying to catch her breath.

"I wonder if the ceremony has started, " Thorne whispered, trying to breathe himself.

"We should go. But, before we do, I want you to know and doubt not how very much I love you. I have sensed your uneasiness these last days and I hope you can discard it and move forward with me and your son, for he is your son," she said low, staring into his eyes.

His eyes darted from her face until she moved her head and caught his attention once again. He was unsure of what to say but he cleared his throat and cupped her face in his hands. "I know you are devoted to me, Aspen, and I to you. I have felt uneasy, that is true, but I do not love you any less. If anything, I have found that I love you all the more and that had contributed to my nervousness. I hate what has happened to us and I want to get back home to begin anew with you. I never thought I would want a child of my own, but I am finding that I stare at your belly trying to see what he will look like, whether he resembles you or I. I am so happy, Aspen, that I cannot even begin to tell you how many ways you please me. My heart is full of love for you, for us...I doubt you not."

Aspen's lips quirked into a smile and Thorne let her go, holding his palm out to her and she, in turn, placed her palm against his and they made their way to the ballroom where the ceremony was to begin.

The ballroom was packed in tightly with villagers and noble men and women alike. Rothan must have brought in his people to decorate for the occasion for there were garlands of autumn blooming flowers and leaves of all shades draping the windows and hung from the ceiling. Candles were lit on every table that stood against the walls and a velvet blue carpet parted the crowd in two where Thorne and Aspen poised themselves and began to walk to the front, smiles on their faces, Aspen waving at the sea of people although her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. From somewhere in the room, a man began to cheer and countless others joined in with him, warming Thorne's soul. These were his people as much as those back in Cliffehaven and he would show them that they would not have to live in the darkness as they had been. Aspen was grateful for the grand reception and took up her place beside her husband and her king and in the hearts of all those present.

Rothan held his hand out for respect and after the kissing of the ring transpired, he shook the hand of the man who he had once considered his enemy and he kissed the cheek of the very woman he treasured, still aching for her. He had heard of her pregnancy and prayed the babe would be dark haired and eyed, not fair haired and blue eyed and he surely did not envy the torment he knew Thorne was going through.

Mr. Noteworthy was seated just to the side of them on a chair with a harp upon his shoulder. He glanced to just have a peek at a girl who had once been his pupil and had grown into a great lady and saw her look to him at the same time. He tipped his cap to her and bowed his head. She smiled a wide smile and her eyes danced for him as she waved. It was good to see old faces again.

In the corner of her eye, Aspen again spied someone she had known, no, had been close to. Rachel stood only two rows back in a gown of brown homespun and her stringy hair appeared dirty and unwashed, her watery eyes staring at the girl who was her friend not so long ago, with hate and contempt burning within. Aspen offered Rachel a warm smile of felicitation and Rachel flicked her gaze away from her. Aspen was hurt by the snubbing, but not enough to let it curb her happiness on this glorious day.

The holy man conducting the wedding walked to the front, a hush coming over the crowd. He must have come from Farrin as well; he walked with a tall white staff topped by a gold sphere. His long robes were dragging on the ground and as white as Aspen's gown, but were trimmed in gold threads embroidered onto the cloth and were fastened at his chest with a fine gold brooch. He sported a long white beard and had soft brown eyes that brought comfort to the soul and his head was adorned by a tall hat that had something foreign to Aspen sewn from the brim to the top and back down to the other side like a rainbow. He tipped his staff to Mr. Noteworthy who began playing his music and entrancing all the people with its melody of love.

Sauren was the first to descend the carpet dressed in a white tunic that fell to mid thigh trimmed in the family's color of a bright sapphire blue, his undershirt had full sleeves that were tied at his wrists to gather the fullness and were trimmed in lace the width of Aspen's hand. His breeches were white, his boots were white and shiny and a cloak of white with a blue underside draped his shoulders and was fastened across his chest with a silver brooch bejeweled in sapphires. The man's hair was wavy and fell beyond his shoulders and his eyes were hazel, soft but scared. He walked with his hands fisted at his sides in a march of circumstance from the royalty he was born to. He took his place in front of the high priest and turned to see his soon to be wife floating to him on the carpet that looked like the sea on a fine day.

Marrissa was frightened. She was so young to be married and she did not know this man at all. What if he beat her? What if he rejected her? Yet, as she stepped closer to him, she could see the kindness in his eyes and it eased her mind.

Aspen thought Marrissa was the most beautiful bride she had ever seen. Her dress was white as well with small flowers sewn in blue stretched across her full underskirt that rustled as she walked. The bodice was cut low and showed her young cleavage. The waistline was low as well to her hips hugging her ribs and belly to show how pleasing she was to behold. Her sleeves were long and nearly dipped to the floor, the underside blue as well and silver ribbons were tied at her upper arms. Pearls and diamonds and sapphires trimmed her gown around the neckline, sleeves and waistline. Her mass of deep brown curls had been pinned atop her head where a dainty crown sat and a soft veil fell down her back to float behind her. She looked like she was about to become a princess, not the wife of a steward. Finally, she made it to the front amidst the whispers from the crowd and the gasps of awe from the young girls who pretended that one day they too would marry well. The scowl on Rachel's face grew more evident.

The music stopped as the two turned to face each other and the priest addressed the crowd of supporters welcoming them into the house of love and promising the return of God into their lives. He asked the two young people if they were devoted to one another, if they would allow God to help them through their marriage, if they would never take another man or woman in the other's place, if they would obey the other undoubting...the questions seemed to last the evening. Finally, the man was satisfied, he raised his staff before them and fashioned a cross in the air. He had them exchange their rings of eternity and the two kissed to publicly seal the vows they had made to each other. The cheers went up at the union and the newly wedded couple turned to the congregation and smiled, waving to all. They walked back up the aisle through a shower of flower petals and made for the great hall. Rothan followed them and Thorne and Aspen trailed behind hearing the villagers begin to filter out and join them for the feast.

The great hall was decorated as well in the colors of the king, honoring him and the union of his son with one of their own. Thorne and Aspen stepped on the platform where the nobility dined and stared out over the sea of villagers and nobles who had gathered to hear what fate would befall them now that the tyranny had ended. Sauren took the seat of the master of the castle with his new wife at his right side, his father on his left. The next table sported Glade at the far left, Thorne with Aspen to his right and Jennessa on her other side. Sauren raised a bell sitting beside his mug of ale and rang for the first round of food to be served. Countless servants bustled out of the two doors from the kitchens laden with trays of bread and cheese for each table. The nobles, of course, were served first. Other servants carried huge jugs of wine and ale keeping tankards full and spirits high.

Once bellies were sated, Rothan stood to be greeted with the support of the villagers. He held up his hand in a gesture of silence and the crowd quieted.

"People of Rosehill!" he called out, garnering their interest. "I present to you my son and his bride...your new steward and stewardess. I have removed the title of earl from your fine village for I have also presented the title of Grand Duke to the real hero of this crusade... Lord Thorne Darktower," he listened as the people erupted once again into cheers and Thorne turned to see Aspen's face and found her staring at him wide-eyed and mouth falling open unable to believe this glorious gift from the king, much less a king who hated her husband. Rothan held up his hand again and the people quieted. "Our hero has asked that a few men who showed bravery and skill to free you and the Grand Duchess over there of your terror, be honored with the title of knight. Please stand as I call out your name and receive the support you have earned. Sir Jemenis...Sir Valiant...Sir Miquel...you have served us well!" The crowd showered them with praise and loud boisterous cheers.

The three men stood and accepted the praise from the people...shock and surprise making their hearts thunder within their chests and then took to their seats once more.

Rothan cleared his throat and the cheering quieted. "It has been a pleasure to be here in your fine village and a fine village it is. It is your responsibility to improve it daily with the help and guidance of your leaders. You have been liberated! Welcome God back into your community, I love you all!" he ended listening to the cheers and Aspen watched the women dry their eyes and many cross themselves mumbling prayers of thanks.

Sauren rang the bell again as his father sat down and dozens of women rushed forth to collect the empty platters and fill empty mugs with ale. The next course was brought out, a hearty stew of venison and barley on trenchers. The smell made Aspen's mouth water in anticipation. When the last servant had disappeared into the kitchens, men dressed in vivid colors and wearing bright hats with bells on them came in doing acrobatics. Aspen counted five of them as they climbed upon one another to form a pyramid and as the crowd clapped their enjoyment the man on the top jumped and turned over and over in the air to land soundly on his feet. Everyone cheered for him and so the show went on. Aspen had never seen anything like it, even at the ball held in Cliffehaven, and she knew that the other villagers had not either so it was a true treat.

The next platters of food were brought out as the performers rested, and a meal of turkey and lamb with roasted vegetables soon filled the tables. Aspen was already full but it all tasted so very wonderful that she sampled everything. The jesters returned to the floor singing ballads and ended in a re-creation of the great battle ending in the death of St. Michael which turned Thorne's stomach for he knew the man was not really dead. He wondered if he were doing the right thing in not revealing that bit of truth. He was pulled from his thoughts by the cheering of all the audience and the performers were taking their bows before leaving the floor. Aspen looked to her husband and saw a darkness lining his eyes...a private worry that he harbored alone and wondered what it could be. Could he feel that she doubted St. Michael was dead?

Thorne could feel her gaze on him and turned to see her staring at him with her head cocked to the side as if she were contemplating something. He leaned near to her and whispered in her ear.

"What bothers you, my lady?" he asked.

"I wonder what you are thinking, my lord. You looked deep in thought," she said into his ear.

She could read him well. He smiled and let his head drop a notch. He looked up into her eyes that at one time had been so full of innocence but still possessed their magic and he was overcome with love for her. He kissed her cheek and moved his lips to her ear once again.

"Many things plague my mind, love. I cannot wait to get home with you. Everyone will be so happy you return," he said low.

"I think they will be relieved that you return as well, my lord. I am proud of what you have accomplished. It seems I am not the only one who thinks you are a great man," she said with hidden meanings. She was so surprised by the king's gift of title especially when they had been beating each other just months before. Something had changed in her absence. It was a bond she would never be able to understand for it was something they two shared...a mutual respect.

"Are you ready to go home? We leave on the morrow," he asked.

"I wish we were already there. I would leave now if we could," she answered.

The bell rang again and the maids cleared away the mess on the tables as the people wiped their hands and mouths on the cloths over the tables awaiting the final course to clear the palate. The men were becoming loud and silly from all the ale they had consumed and the large hall was abuzz with chatter and an occasional laugh that was heard above the rest. Trays laden with fruit were set before them; apples and berries of all kinds made a colorful display and the sugar sprinkled over the top looked like frost on a crisp winter morning. Thorne picked a succulent blackberry and put it to Aspen's lips, which she opened to allow him to feed her. She closed her eyes as she savored the taste, one of the many things she had taken for granted all of her life.

Rothan watched the public display between Thorne and Aspen. There would come a time when she would belong to him. He thought of being able to feed her berries and kiss her mouth and feel her breasts against him as he held her close to him. He could feel his jealousy rising and welcomed the dancers that came to entertain them at the end of their evening. He sat there alone sucking the juices from each berry and watched the women twirl and leap to the music of the lute. They wore their long hair up to show the grace in their necks and their clothing was thin and flowed like the gowns worn by angels clinging to their figures as they moved. They looked like flowers as they turned, their skirts resembling the petals of the morning glory, in colors of yellow and orange and green. Suddenly they all pulled the sash from around their waist and danced with the ribbons flying through the air rippling like a banner in the wind. It was a good distraction.

Aspen loved the dancers. She watched them in awe as they danced in unison, every step the same, every whip of the ribbon identical. The music came to an end and the dancers departed leaving the guests clapping and shouting in their wake. The maids once again cleared the tables and people of all walks began to stand.

"Could I have your attention!?!" Glade shouted, his deep voice reverberating through the room. All the drunken chatter stopped and Aspen stared at him in wonder. "Before we depart to the ballroom for dancing, I have something to say." He licked his lips nervously and felt his palms grow moist. "I want to thank his majesty for his generosity, congratulate his son on his union to a beautiful lady, admire my lord for his perseverance, and beg for Jennessa's hand in marriage," he said turning to look at Jennessa who was staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth that Aspen could have picked up from the floor. Glade moved to her and took her hand in his placing a gentle kiss on her palm. "I owe you my life, I give you my love. I hope I can beg you well enough to have me...I love you, Jennessa," he said to her low and full of sincerity, his warm eyes soft and pleading with her teary eyes full of surprise.

"And I love you, Glade. I will marry you for I gave you my love the first moment I saw you even in the darkness of the closet," she laughed for a second and sobered flinging herself into his arms where she had hoped she belonged. And there they shared a kiss to put others to shame, a kiss so powerful that Aspen caught a few men grab their women and follow suit. Cheers erupted from all over the hall and they departed to the ballroom to dance and drink until the wee hours of the morn.

The candles on the ballroom chandelier set the room aglow. The musicians set up in one corner of the massive room and tuned their instruments. Noble women found themselves comfortable chairs that lined the walls, broken only by the occasional tables that were already cluttered with ale tankards. Peasants clapped each other on the shoulder and the women spoke of the nobles behind their hands. The bride and groom entered the room and all cheered their congratulations. The king entered looking powerful and strong in his royal blue tunic and cape and all his finery glittering over his person, his crown resting regally atop his blonde hair. A silence of respect fell over the crowd and they all bowed and curtsied to their leader, thankful for the opportunity to have shared a meal with him, much less dance and have frivolous fun in his company. He lifted a bejeweled hand to welcome the new grand duke and duchess into their midst as he took himself a chair upon a small dais at the back of the room.

It was difficult for Aspen to enter the room, for the last time she had been to a ball, she was captured. It was the terror of the cloth over her mouth and the stinging vapors of the ether in her nose that made her panic. She hesitated as they neared the doorway draped in fall foliage and could feel the expectancy of each individual within. Thorne could feel her fear and could not understand where it came from.

"What is wrong, darling?" he asked worried that she was not well.

"'Tis silly to fret over things that happened so long ago, but the last time I attended a function, I was parted from you and I fear for my safety. Any one of those people could harbor a grudge against you or I and it frightens me," she replied looking sheepishly at the floor.

Thorne placed his index finger beneath her chin and drew her gaze to his own, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I know why you fret, but there is no need. You will be safe this time for I will not leave you again for anything in this world. If anything happens, we will be together when it does. Now come...everyone is waiting for us," Thorne reassured her, placing her palm against his and pulled her to the doorway. Everyone stood staring at the empty doorway and relief flooded Rothan's face when they finally appeared together although Aspen looked to be being pulled along, making Rothan wonder what was wrong. As he watched the two, he saw Aspen build the fortress around herself as she always had been able to, putting on a front for everyone else's benefit. She changed to a poised and confident woman hiding behind her dazzling smile. She walked through the parted crowd on the arm of her husband appearing so happy when just moments ago she was as a child frightened of the dark. They were treated with the same pomp and circumstance as the king had been, deep curtsies and low bows from nobles and peasants alike. The king motioned to the musicians and music filled the room with spirit. The bride and groom were expected to lead the first dance and others filtered in as the music took hold of them. Soon everyone was dancing, gowns swirling and boots thumping against the stone floor. Classes no longer divided, the upper and lowers danced as equals and laughter rent the night air. Rothan treasured the moments he had dancing with Aspen. She had relaxed and laughed as loudly as all the rest dipping her curtsies and swishing her skirts about her legs revealing her tiny slippered feet. Her cheeks grew rosy and her hair began to loosen and drop about her face in loose curls, her eyes bright in the dancing flames of the candles. Lord, how he wanted her! As Rothan passed her to the next partner, his hand brushed her swelling belly and he knew the rumors to be true. She was very much with child.

Aspen gasped and instinctively covered herself searching wildly for her husband. Rothan saw this in her and tried to calm her before she made a scene. He spied Thorne dancing with a very graceful noble woman and caught his eye as Aspen yelled out his name. Alarm hit Thorne as a foot to the gut and he ran to her side.

"I am not feeling well, I wish to retire for the night, my lord," she said trying to control herself.

Thorne looked to Rothan for answers and received a shrug as an answer. "Let us sit a spell and have a drink and see how you feel then, what say you?" he asked her noticing her shaking. The fear inside her subsided and she realized how silly she was being, but in her mind she knew she would be viewed as a harlot. No one would believe the child to be Thorne's after what had happened. She did not want to bring shame down upon her husband and his name.

"I am not well. Perhaps I am tired," she replied.

Thorne could see something in her eyes and it was not fatigue. He took her hand and led her to a chair and gently forcing her to sit, he knelt before her holding her fingers and looking up into her eyes so haunted.

"Honesty, Aspen. I require that of you and I know you are not tired. Something happened and it frightened you. What happened?"

Aspen looked defeated. She sighed and looked away blinking back the tears that plagued her. "He knows, Thorne. Rothan knows I am with child. He will think the worst of me as well as everyone here. They will all think me unfit to be your wife. They will pity me and shun you and your family. But Rothan knows," she said in a small shaky voice.

Thorne rubbed her fingers and a smile of understanding touched his lips. "Do not fret, darling. Rothan knew very early on and we spoke of it again after the doctor saw you. He is happy for us and as far as the others go, I care not how they feel for when you birth a son who looks like me, they will have to eat their words and I pray they choke on them. We are blessed to have found love and unity in each other and together we have made a child. I care not for anyone save you and our son. Now, it is our last evening here. Let us be social and happy for all to see, shall we?" he asked standing and extending his hand to her.

"Yes, my lord," she said dully and smiled a cold smile that she thought could hide her worry. Thorne was not fooled but he thought that the gossiping busybodies would be. They paused to drink for a spell and the musicians began a soft and sensual dance in the dim candlelight. The strings were played perfectly by the right fingers and the music that floated to them on the autumn air lured the people to each other. Everyone found a partner and everyone danced, entranced by the melody. Aspen reveled in the touch of her husband as their hands connected and as they drew close together in something similar to an embrace, she could feel his muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch and contract as he moved slow and controlled as they turned in circles one way and then the other. Aspen felt short of breath as they pulled away and turned to meet once again palm to palm, the energy between them shared and coveted by some but admired by all. At the last pluck of the string, their lips met and Aspen could swear that the earth shook from the power of it. And as if they were alone, they slid into each other's embrace clinging like they would never see each other again...which is exactly where they had just been. They had missed each other so. They let go of each other at the sound of the applause being offered by the jealous admirers of the crowd.

The night drew to a close as the people began to thin, staggering home to sleep off the ale they had drunk, bellowing their thanks into the chilled darkness. The bride and groom disappeared to their quarters after sharing sentiments with the king. Marissa was a part of the royal family now and Rothan welcomed her with open arms. Aspen had not seen the jealous Rachel after the wedding and figured she probably never would again.

Aspen was so weary she thought she could sleep standing up. Jennessa saw her and set about getting her whisked up to her bed while Thorne said goodnight to his guests. He let Aspen go and she was so tired she hardly fussed about leaving the room without him. She was tucked in neatly when he entered her room, her hair fanned about her pillows and blankets up to her chin. She looked so childlike but for the lump in the blankets where his son grew. The fire snapped in the fireplace as its flames licked the dry summer logs and radiated heat through the room, making the shadows dance. Thorne sat on the edge of her bed and rested his hand on her forehead smoothing the silken waves from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him half asleep. She stretched and stifled a yawn before she reached up and touched his face with the softest of touches.

"I love you, my husband," she whispered.

Thorne smiled from deep within so content and so full of love. He lowered his head and rested his lips against hers soft and full...the perfect end to a wonderful day.

### Chapter 22

The castle was buzzing with activity as servants packed their belongings as well as their master's, preparing for the journey to Cliffehaven and Farrin. Many whispered between each other that it would seem so empty when all the guests departed. Others were praising the Lord that things would be quiet at last.

Aspen woke to Jennessa stirring the fire, encouraging the embers to break apart and spread their warmth out into the room. Aspen rubbed the sleep from her eyes and a loud yawn escaped her. She smiled at her friend, remembering Glade's proposal from the night before.

"Good morn! How do you feel this day?" Aspen asked patting her bedside in an invitation.

Jennessa sat as she was bid looking happier than Aspen could ever remember seeing her. "I feel very well today, thank you, my lady."

Aspen looked taken aback at her formality. She narrowed her eyes at her friend. "What is all of this?"

"I figure that I had better get used to calling you that since I am going on with you. Glade and I spoke of it and we will be moving with you to Cliffehaven. His lordship guaranteed me the position as your maid this morning. Glade is the captain of the guard and has been gifted a home and a small parcel of land if we go. His lordship knew we wouldn't be able to be apart. He loves you so and I hope that I have found a similar love in Glade."

Aspen's face lit up at the news. She reached out and hugged Jennessa tight. "You will love it there! Now I very much look forward to going home!"

"We need to get you bathed and dressed for your arrival. The tub is on its way and a gown is being prepared for you. It was a gift from the king," Jennessa said.

Aspen hurried as quickly as she could to bring the homecoming that much closer. She could not wait to go home. Jennessa had helped her into her gown of silk the color of sage that gathered beneath her breasts to conceal her pregnancy and the neckline dipped low enough to show a sample of her growing cleavage. The sleeves were snug and cuffed at the wrists for travel and emeralds made her sparkle as she moved. Jennessa fashioned her hair up in a chignon and fastened her jewelry about her neck and she was ready to return to her people...after she saw her father.

Aspen opened the heavy door to the room where her father lay. She hated that she had to say goodbye to him and hope that he continued to heal and would not die. She sat beside his bed and took his hand in hers.

Vatric opened his eye to behold his beautiful daughter and a smile graced his dry lips.

"Ahh, there is my girl. Ye look so beautiful, Aspen," he said in a rough voice.

"You look pale, father. Are you well?" Aspen asked frowning at his ashen color.

"I am very well. After spending months down in the depths of Hell, I am wonderful."

"I know that, but really, are you mending?"

Vatric could see the fear in her. He knew she was afraid that if she left him there, he would die like her mother did. "Me body is healing so I will be fine, I just cannot travel now, the pain is too severe," he said reaching for his daughter's face and knitting his eyebrows together hoping to ease her discomfort.

Aspen held the tears back and cleared her throat to hide her emotion. "You will join me in Cliffehaven, will you not?"

"Aye, I will Aspen. I promise ye that," he said smiling at her, amazed at how childlike she still was although she was grown and about to be a mother, or so the gossips were saying. She held on to her youth and her innocence even as an adult. He could see the torment within her as she kept her tears from him as she had every time he screamed and cursed her as a child for sins that were not hers. He was overcome as well that he had been so terrible to her when she could not defend herself and yet she still found it within her to forgive him. He blinked and turned from her view for he found it difficult to keep the tears from falling.

A knock sounded at the partially opened door and Aspen turned her head to see who begged entrance. Thorne stepped inside and drew his hands behind his back, his hair tied back at his neck, his black traveling habit fitting him precisely.

"'Tis time to go, my love. I hate to cut your time with your father short, but we need to take our leave...our coach is waiting," he said and began to step out once again.

"My lord..." Vatric bellowed the best he could muster.

Thorne turned to Vatric and stepped nearer to the bed as his hand beckoned him.

"Yes, sir?" Thorne asked.

"Thank you fer keeping yer word. Thank you fer loving her the way she has needed to be loved all her life. I failed her miserably. I see yer magic and know that it was all meant to be this way for the greater good," Vatric said, his voice thick and his eyes pooled with sentiment.

Thorne bowed a slight bow. "She has enriched my life more than I could ever have imagined. My wife has spent her life being punished for crimes she was innocent to and I intend to make certain she spends the rest of her life knowing she is the most noble woman I have ever known."

Thorne took her elbow and drew her from her chair. He held contempt for this man regardless of his intentions. He was cruel and heartless if he could be the way he had been. He thought that he may be able to learn to like the man over time after Vatric proved to him that he was not the monster he had been in his past.

"I shall see you very soon, Aspen," Vatric said as she let his hand go. She stood to her full height looking perfectly poised, her hand resting against her belly where he could barely make out the evidence of her rumored pregnancy.

"Get well, Da. I will have a cottage waiting for you," she said and planted a kiss on his forehead. She stared at him a moment studying everything about him in the event she did not get that chance again. She wanted a new memory of him the man he was now rather than the man he was then. Vatric smiled at her and she let her husband lead her from the room. She sailed through the doorway as a lone tear escaped her and she quickly whisked it away before her husband saw.

They descended the staircase together, arm in arm, to find that many of the staff and villagers were waiting to say their goodbyes. Every person there fell to their knees as their liberator passed and all mumbled a reverent thank you. Standing at the great front door was the new master of the castle, Sauren and his wife Marissa as well as the king himself. Thorne shook Sauren's hand in the grasp of friendship, wrist to wrist, Aspen hugged Marissa and kissed her cheeks wishing her good luck and to take care of her father. Rothan stepped forward taking Aspen in his arms. She smelled of roses and honeysuckle and he wished he were taking her with him. He should be taking her with him. But one day she would be his and he would have to be patient. He kissed her forehead and smiled.

"I am glad you are safe, my Lady Darktower," he said low.

"Thank you, your majesty, for fighting at my husband's side to free not only me but all of these people as well. It was very noble of you and I thank you," she said in return, feeling very uncomfortable. Thorne was at her side very quickly and she could breathe easier.

"It was a pleasure to fight with you, your majesty," Thorne said as he shook the king's hand the same way he shook Sauren's.

"You are a great leader, Lord Darktower. I watched you grow these last months from a boy to a man in the regards of war. You were very strong for all these people and your wife. You both possess a noble courage that not all are graced with and I bow to you in admiration of your great spirit. You will be good for these people. Soon, I will summon you both to court where we will feast and dance until we fall down in a pleasant agony. Until that day, I hope you fare well. I will miss you both," Rothan said with a deep bow that touched Thorne and Aspen deeply. They kissed the signet of their territory and proceeded down the stone steps, beyond the doors, and stepped into the carriage that was packed and waiting for them. Cheers went up from every direction as the coach pulled away headed for home.

Thorne covered Aspen with a blanket for they could still see their breath that morning. Winter was fast approaching as was evident with the frost covering the foliage and Thorne kept a silent hope that his village was able to reap and store enough food for the hard days ahead. The sun peeked over the tops of the hills that were shrouded in mist and frost, the sky all but cloudless aside from the fog. A day of promise, a good omen on their homecoming. The caravan of wagons and carriages departed and left the village through the giant portcullis where people were still cheering in their wake.

Thorne looked to his wife and marveled at how lucky he was that she lived and still carried his son. Aspen looked to him and their eyes locked and they grew warm as their hearts began to pound at the mere sight of each other. Thorne wrapped her within the safety of his arms and gently rested his lips upon hers savoring the feeling...a feeling he thought he would never feel again. He broke the kiss to look at her beauty.

"I do love you, Aspen. It was you that kept me going out there on the battlefield. It was the hope of finding you alive that spurred me forward. I am so happy to be returning home with you on my arm," he breathed.

"It was the hope that you would save me that made me wake in the morn, but I must confess that I begged for death in the dungeons. I saw my mother and Kara and I became weak and begged for them to take me away. I am so sorry I doubted you," she said looking away from him in shame.

"I do not blame you for doubting me. It took us so long to get to you but out of it all, you were reunited with your father and that seems to have been positive. I commend you for the strength you exercised. You took much abuse and saw many horrors and you still draw breath. Other women would have lain in bed and cried their woes and would have moaned their misery for all to hear in the black cell. They would have begged for mercy and done all that was asked of them for many hold no loyalty within when they are tortured. You...are special."

Aspen stared out the window as his words touched her and helped her hide the shame she felt. The countryside opened up and the valley spread before them, a hazy plain of magic like the dwelling of a fairy who froze the earth with her breath to suspend the life until the sun became warm again. Every branch was covered in the crystals, every blade of grass that once blew in the breeze was still and white. It looked dead but lived beneath.

"I remember the first time I met you and traveled this same road in this carriage. I hated you then. It seems miraculous that I hold so much love for you now...that I carry your son. Fate is a funny thing, is it not?"

"I am sorry I treated you badly. I have thought of that many times and wish that I recognized what I was feeling... for although you were a mess, you have a charisma that cannot be ignored and I was drawn to that. I had spent my life as a bitter man out to punish all for my own sorrows, but you turned me around in a short time. But I know that I loved you from the first moment I saw you and the feeling grew stronger every minute of every day."

"It seems strange that I was so afraid to come here and now I am so happy to be home where I am loved," she said with a smile.

The roar of the ocean was heard on the still air and the salty brine filled her senses and she breathed deeply. The carriage rounded the bend and the castle loomed in the distance, the towers reaching high towards the sun. Aspen could see the smoke from the fireplaces rising from the chimneys and as they drew nearer, she could see what was left of the village amidst the blackened parcels that had been burned by St. Michael's men. It brought mixed emotions to her, all of which pricked her eyes with tears. She thought of those lost to war, the food that had been destroyed, and the homes they all helped to build. She saw no one out, no children played, not even a hound dog sniffing for a place to lift his leg. It seemed deserted.

Thorne was surveying the damage as well and inwardly cursed St. Michael to Hell. All of the prosperity was gone. As they rambled past the wall that surrounded the castle, he could see where men had fallen and left their blood to stain the walls as a reminder to all what had happened. Thorne wondered how many he had lost, how many families had been destroyed.

The horses clip-clopped into the bailey where the villagers were waiting and welcomed them home with waves and cheers and whistles. Thorne let go of Aspen and they both went to the windows to wave back at their reception as they were brought to the steps at the giant oak doors. Tomas opened the door of the carriage offering his hand in assistance to Aspen. She smiled at him although she did not even know him and allowed him to help her down. She was a beauty, still very thin, but beautiful. She stepped gracefully to the ground and turned to see her husband emerge. She graced her people with a smile and waved to them...so grateful she was to be home again. Henry opened the massive doors and stood stiffly at the door in respect. Thorne shook the hand of Tomas and set an appointment to meet later and discuss the happenings of late. He gave orders to have their things brought up and for John to show Jennessa where she would be needed and proceeded to go to his chambers with his wife.

"Mama!" a small voice cried from atop the stairs.

Aspen looked up at Mira jumping up and down in her little gown, curls bouncing, and a huge smile smothering her face. Aspen hurried up to her and drew the girl into her arms. She had missed her so.

"How are you, Mira?" Aspen asked.

"I missed you so much!" she said into Aspen's sleeve.

"I have missed you too, child. But I am home now. I will never leave you like that again."

"Tomas told me that you were very brave and you lived through bad things. Is that true?" Mira asked.

Aspen smiled. "I suppose it is. Perhaps one day I will tell you all about it, but Thorne was even more brave than I and he saved me so he could bring me home to you. Were you brave while I was gone?"

"I cried that you had left...well, that you were stolen...and then when the fighting began I was very scared. I thought I was going to get killed like my other mama."

"It must have been so frightening. I am so sorry, but I am glad you were not hurt."

"Me too! And I am glad you are home again."

"I need to go to my room for a bit but I will see you in a while, will you be a good girl for me and be ready for the evening meal?"

"Yes, mama." she said and kissed Aspen's cheek to skip away with her nurse.

Aspen opened the door to her chamber and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the gown that lay on her bed. She rushed to it and greedily fingered the exquisite fabric. It was a wedding gown... _that_ she could tell. It was a masterpiece but Aspen was unsure about what it was for. She found a scroll lying beside it and opened it to find that it was a gift from Chloe made on the king's orders for the wedding that would take place at the homecoming celebration. Thorne came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle reading the scroll as well. Aspen looked to him for an explanation.

"The king and I planned a great feast and decided that a public ceremony between us would be good. Father Goodson will bear witness that we are in fact already married, but will marry us in front of our people. I told him of Chloe and he sent her a message when we sent Tomas back here to see to the planning. She did a marvelous job for I have not seen a more beautiful gown in my life."

"And what if it fits me not?" she asked referring to her growing belly.

"It will, I promise," he smiled.

She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him sound, which turned into a passionate need in them both. A kindled fire burst into a raging flame within her belly and she could feel Thorne's need against her thigh as they kissed with a hungry need. She pulled the lacing on Thorne's hair and let it loose to fall about his shoulders in waves of ebony and he pulled the pins in her chignon to have it fall down her back in a mass of auburn he ached to bury his hands in.

A sudden knock on the door made them both jump as if they had been caught eating sweets before bedtime and they wiped their mouths as Jennessa entered with three men to ready a hot bath. She stopped short when she saw their disheveled state. She apologized and begged forgiveness trying to arrange a better time. Thorne laughed and excused himself to his own room where he would ready himself for the evening ahead.

From her window high above all, Lilly had watched as the village burned. She had watched the men fighting and soldiers raping women, throwing daggers into children's backs and wondered to herself if the peasant girl was worth all of the suffering being bestowed upon these innocents. She hoped Thorne was full of guilt over what was happening and she wished that it would haunt him for the rest of his days. She had heard rumors that the girl was pregnant with Thorne's child and anger gripped her. After seeing her climb from the carriage, spoiled and pampered, it appeared that the stories were true. Lilly scoffed at the terrible effort the girl was going to in order hide the child in her womb. It occurred to Lilly that she had lost Thorne and there was no future for her child. There was no other choice but to end it all. She would die after the birth of her child regardless, so she would kill the child as well and then she would torment him with that in death.

*******

The lanterns were lit through the chapel and people were filtering in to attend the wedding of their grand leader and their beloved angel. Musicians plucked the music of love from all the hearts present and sent it back to them on the reverent air in the church. Soon, the pews were full and more people stood where they could. Father Goodson stood waiting for Thorne at the front of the room when at last he appeared looking dashing in his tunic of black with red lacings, black breeches that tucked into shiny black boots. He wore the black cloak with the red lining and the family brooch Aspen had given him at their first union. He had left his hair down and walked with his cane that had been his grandfather's for his leg had been troubling him. He walked tall and proud, minding his limp before his people, appearing high and noble. He took his place beside the Father and watched expectantly for his bride.

She appeared in the doorway and although they had already been married once, she felt the butterflies in her belly all over again. This time she had no gift to give her husband. Her virginity was lost, she had no heirloom, only herself. She was the very pinnacle of nobility but was the poor, mouse of a girl quaking on the inside. She drew a deep breath and began to walk behind the pews until she turned to walk up the aisle that separated the benches into two halves.

Thorne could not believe it was Aspen coming toward him. She floated to him, amidst the whispers of how beautiful she was, the neckline of her gown was round and modest, trimmed in pearls, her sleeves were full and gathered in three places with pearled laces tied at her elbows where the sleeves broke away and fell to her knees in white wisps of silk exposing her graceful arms. The empire waist gave way to the voluminous skirt that fell to the floor, layers and layers of white silk beneath an overskirt of lace. Thorne could hear her white slippers tap on the stone floor as she drew nearer still. Her face was concealed behind a headdress of sheer fabric but Thorne could still see that her hair was up in curls with tendrils about her face and neck. She wore the jewelry from the king and Thorne was a bit miffed that even at their wedding, Rothan was still a part of their lives. She stopped before him and offered him a curtsy when he reached for her hand and stood at her side. The Father recited passages from his holy book and once again asked them the questions that they had answered before. They exchanged their rings and Thorne was instructed to reveal his bride, which he did and stared into her emerald eyes that smoldered for him. He was told he could seal his promise with a kiss and did so willingly, though wishing they could retire for the night to their rooms, but knew they could not. The Father crossed them over their heads and wished them luck in their life together. He announced that the two had been married for the second time for all to witness, but that they had been married months before and were expecting their first child in the spring. The people hesitated in their celebration for a moment and then the cheers went up and rose petals flew into the air as they made their way to the great hall for the meal and dancing.

They partook of a wonderful meal of venison and goose in sauces, fruit and preserves, and bread. The hall had been decorated in pine boughs and ribbons of red. Once the people had filled their bellies, the tables were moved against the walls and the benches stacked atop them, the music began and all the guests moved with the music. Aspen's feet began to hurt and her face was tired of smiling so much. Finally she had to step back and take a rest and Thorne was right at her side. They noticed a man walk in to the room dressed in the armor of the village. He spied his master and rushed to him pulling him aside.

"My lord, the woman in the tower is bleeding badly. She stabbed herself in the belly and is screaming in pain. There is water and blood everywhere! You need to come quick!" the man said in panic.

"Fetch the doctor...he is just there. I will bring her ladyship with me. It was not time for her to birth the babe yet. Damnation!" Thorne swore.

He took Aspen by the arm and ushered her from the room explaining as they went what was happening. It seemed to take hours to climb the stairs, but by the time they got to the room, all was quiet and Lilly lay there in the slice of moonlight across the floor, filthy and covered in blood, a piece of sharp stone in her hand still dripping with her blood. Thorne glanced around to find where it had come from but could not see anything in the darkness. He knelt at her side and threw his cape over her to keep her warm. She opened her eyes as the doctor burst in and looked into Thorne's eyes, barely breathing.

"I hate you," she whispered and then her breathing halted and she went limp.

Tears filled Thorne's eyes and coursed down his cheeks. Even in death she had no words of love or forgiveness for him. She hated him for forcing her to take her own life so she took the life of his child as well. Doctor Love removed the cape from her body and studied the wound. He took the stone from her hand and cut her further until he had a hole large enough to pull the babe through. Aspen's hand flew to her mouth in shock at what she was seeing. The baby emerged from the womb of the dead woman, still connected by the cord until the doctor severed it. He held the babe by the ankles slapping it on the rump and on the back to make it breathe...but it was so early that the doctor thought it would not happen. He placed the child on the cape and rubbed it all over, but it lay there not moving. Doctor Love looked up.

"It was a girl, but she was not ready to be born yet. I am sorry, boy," he said with pity in his eyes.

Thorne thrust his hands into his hair...sorrow taking hold of him. This had been his own child, whether he had wanted to keep that child for himself or not, the wee thing did not deserve to die. Aspen went to the baby and held her in her arms wrapped in the cape. She could not accept that she was dead. Aspen noticed that there was a cut on the baby's shoulder and dabbed at it with the cape. She felt a twitch beneath her hands and stared at the child, so small. She felt it again.

"I do not think she is dead, doctor. She is moving but cannot breathe."

Doctor Love took her from Aspen and tipped her upside down and pounded on her back and suddenly a tiny wail rent the fall evening. Thorne was washed in relief and took the child into his arms. She had his dark hair. She squirmed and cried and kicked her little legs. He smiled at her feeling a bond he did not expect could exist.

"Guard! Will you please take Max and Lila to my library? We will meet them there. Everything you saw tonight and all that you may know is secret, do you understand?"

The man nodded and departed. Thorne thanked the doctor and he and Aspen headed for the library.

Max and Lila entered the room with questions on their faces. They had never been invited this far into the castle. Thorne stood and motioned that they take a chair.

"My lord?" Max asked curiously.

"There has been an unfortunate event this night and a baby was left without her mother. I cannot be a father to her and so I ask you to take her as your own and raise her with love. A love I cannot show her," Thorne began.

Aspen handed Lila the babe in the cape and Lila let out a cry of surprise at the beautiful child. She looked to Thorne with tears in her eyes.

"What will you name her, Lila?" Thorne asked a smile playing on his lips.

"We have a child by the grace in God's hands. I would name her Gracyn," Lila said.

"That is a wonderful name. I hope she brings you joy. She was truly a miracle," Thorne smiled.

"Thank you, my lord! Thank you so much!" Lila said and stood. Max shook hands with his lord and the two took their leave.

"Are you ready to retire for the night?" Thorne asked in a provocative voice.

"I wanted to look in on Mira. I have hardly seen her today," Aspen said taking her husband in her arms and kissing his mouth gently.

"I shall give Tomas the order to end the evening and I will meet you in my chamber shortly," he said with a kiss on her forehead.

Aspen nodded and parted from him to check on Mira.

The little girl was in her bed sleeping when Aspen let herself in. She sat on the bedside and brushed a lock of her hair out of her face. She kissed her cheek and smiled at this precious child.

"I love you, little Mira," Aspen whispered, stood and left the room closing the door behind her.

Aspen went to her own room to change and found her nightdress from their first wedding night lying on her bed. Quickly she changed and left her gown on her bed to be cleaned. She passed through the connecting door and found Thorne in his bed, hair down, and chest bare...the fire snapping warmly in the fireplace.

"You must be an angel coming to take me away to heaven. I have never beheld such a beauty," he said in a half whisper.

"Nay, my lord. I am not an angel. I am of flesh and blood, same as you, but I do want to take you away to a place of our own," she replied.

"You are so beautiful, my wife," Thorne said as he took the lacing of her nightdress and pulled it. Aspen shrugged out of it and let it fall to the floor in a quiet swish, showing him her body.

It seemed as if had been so long since he had a taste of her and his body responded to what his eyes were seeing. He took her hand in his and drew her to the edge of the bed and then ran his hands up the length of her back and then caressed the small bulge of her belly planting a kiss for his son. He trailed kisses over her middle and worked up to her breasts where he teased her nipples to attention with his tongue and lips, causing her to bury her hands in his hair, not wanting him to stop, her breath coming fast for she was drowning in pleasure. Thorne used his hands to explore her as though he never had before, feeling the firmness of her backside, the softness of her thighs, the wetness waiting for him between those thighs all the while she held his head at her breast. He finally pulled her to him to lay beside him in his bed, the fire causing the shadows to dance and touching her body with gold making her glow. He roamed her body with his eyes like onyx, taking all of her in and she did the same in return as she shyly let her hand rest on his erection and he drew air inside him thinking he would surely die if he could not be within her. She had no idea what she was doing to him, but his need was so great that he hurt. He closed his eyes to control himself and let a sigh escape him finding her mouth with his and kissed her tenderly, barely even touching her, a feathery kiss. She wound her arms about him, pressing her breasts against his chest and tangling her legs in his so he could feel her excitement on his thigh and she deepened the kiss while moaning into his mouth. Thorne lost control and positioned himself above her and eased himself within her to begin his rhythm, being mindful of the baby inside of her. Instinctively, she wrapped her long legs around him as he methodically moved her closer to release. He was having trouble holding back for he could have found his own release as he entered her. He found her hands and entwined his fingers with hers, drawing them above her head, melting in her touch.

"I've missed you so, my darling," she whispered to him in the firelight.

Her trust in him and her undying love plucked the strings of sentiment within his heart and his eyes began to sting, began to burn with emotion and he stilled for but a second staring at her lovely face.

"I love you with all of my being, love. I cannot even describe the overwhelming feelings I hold in my heart for you. I never thought this existed, but I didn't know you then. Promise me you will never leave my side, Aspen."

"I promise, Thorne. I swear on all that I hold near and dear," she answered.

Thorne let his passion fill them both and he brought her to the brink of ecstasy feeling her shudder beneath him sighing as the tensions left her with every wave of pleasure that wracked her body. He watched her face as she bit down on her lip and her head moved from side to side, hearing her breathing coming in gasps. It was her climax that made him instantly reach his own plateau and he let her name fall from his lips as he tumbled over the edge and found his release falling atop her and feeling her hands tracing the curves of his back, he struggled to catch his breath.

When the world returned around him, he propped himself upon his elbow and stroked her hair away from her forehead and cupping her right breast in his palm, he wondered how his luck had turned and he could be happy at last. Well, at least until St. Michael returned to take back what he thought was his...

## Epilogue

Aspen woke before dawn on the twentieth day of March feeling cramped up and uncomfortable, her large belly tight to the touch as if someone was squeezing her. She rose from her bed and went to stand near the fire that had burned down to nearly embers when the pain grew more intense with every step. She doubled over and began to breathe deeply to relieve the discomfort and she felt a bit of water course down her leg and she finally knew what was happening. The baby was about to be born. She could do little but sit there on the floor bellowing for Thorne.

Thorne came through the connecting door rubbing the sleep from his eyes, seeing his wife sitting on the floor in obvious pain, water pooling around her tracing its way through the cracks between the stones.

"Get Doctor Love!" she blurted out breathing heavily.

"We should get you to bed and then I will fetch him," Thorne tried to reason.

"Do not touch me, I hurt too badly. Just get the doctor!" she panted.

Thorne did as he was bid and found the doctor sleeping, who woke and told him to find Jennessa as well.

Thorne paced the corridor for what seemed to be the entire day, hearing his wife display her pain of childbirth although she was fairly quiet. The entire castle waited on pins and needles and the village found it hard to keep their train of thought when they heard of the eminent arrival of the new heir of the Darktower line.

Just after midday, Thorne heard the wails of a baby fill the air and he let loose a gigantic sigh of relief along with happiness to finally hold this creation of love and spirit. He could wait no longer and opened the door of Aspen's chamber, spying out of the corner of his eye, a person limping toward him. He looked closer and found it to be Aspen's father, moving down the corridor as quickly as his peg leg would allow him. He appeared as a pirate would in one's imagination with his wooden leg and a patch on his left eye, his hands knarled from being broken which made it difficult for him to shave the hair from his chin so he appeared rugged.

"How is she?" he asked out of breath.

"The baby just came into the world! I am going in to see!" Thorne exclaimed opening the door once again and disappearing within.

Doctor Love looked up at him and beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in his advancing age. He looked to be pleased with himself. "You have a son, my lord! You may hold him if you'd like!"

Thorne could feel the joy mounting as Jennessa handed him his son wrapped in a blanket warmed by the fire. The babe continued to wail and tears sprang to Thorne's eyes for he could not believe that this child of his had come from within his wife's beautiful body. It was so miraculous, the cycle of life. He put his index finger against the baby's flailing hand and tiny fingers squeezed his finger as if holding on to something secure. Thorne smiled at the boy's head of dark hair...fistfuls of it! Thorne began to rock him gently, causing the child to quiet and Thorne looked to his wife who lay near exhausted in her bed, Doctor Love tending to her after birth needs. She looked so pale to him so he walked to the other side of the bed and sat down to show her how handsome their babe was. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly, opening the blanket so she could see him.

"He looks like you, Thorne," she whispered. "What will you name him?"

"I name him for my father, Dalen and I thought to use your brother's name to honor him wherever he may be. He will be known as Dalen Kendric Darktower from this day forward," Thorne said softly.

Aspen's heart was touched and she let her tears of gratitude to her husband fall silently from the corners of her eyes. "'Tis a wonderful name, my love. He will know of the ones he is named for when he grows older and he will learn to honor them not only in memory, but also with his actions."

"Your father waits to see his grandson. May I take him just beyond the door?" Thorne asked.

Aspen nodded with a smile on her tired face, her green eyes bright like the sun shining through a clear emerald, like a sun kissed dew drop on the greenest blade of grass, her mahogany hair wet and ruffled with exertion.

Vatric felt his heart turn in his chest when he beheld his grandson wrapped in the blanket.

"Good Lord! Look at the hair on his head!" he exclaimed running a finger over the baby's cheek.

"His name is Dalen...for my father. Dalen Kendric Darktower, meet your grandfather. He is very lucky to be here to meet you today, my boy."

"Papa! Papa!" Mira called to Thorne as she rounded the bend in the corridor and forgetting her manners, she sprinted to Thorne's side tugging his tunic so she could see her new brother.

Thorne knelt on the floor and placed the baby in Mira's arms, still keeping hold of Dalen but seeing the pleasure on Mira's face and the love she gave to him when she kissed his forehead making him squirm and grimace, unsure of what was happening to him. Thorne let out a soft laugh and took the baby back. What a grand day it was.

*******

"A son he has, eh? Then soon that son shall have no father and I will claim what is rightfully mine," Rayven said as he stared at the scroll that had been brought to him. He stood tossing his dagger just so that it sliced through the parchment and stuck into the wood of his desk wobbling back and forth like a pendulum, a sadistic smile smothering his bearded face. Soon, he would not even need Debrin for he would claim the one he really loved once and for all.

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Other books by Daisha Marie Korth:

The Price of Power: Book Two of the Aspen Series

Tears of Penance: Book Three of the Aspen Series

Salvation of the forgotten: Book Four of the Aspen Series

The Benevolent Light: Book Five of the Aspen Series

The Tales of Elgolan Stories

The Serpent Strikes: Only available to Lords and Ladies Club members (see offer above)

Devil's Lair

Brimstone's Ashes

To Emerge from Pergatory

Purification for Deliverance

The Christmas Spirits

Children's Stories:

The Adventures of Hyde and Zeek: In the Tick of Time
