Knight's Dream

Sir Michael looked at the sky in disgust as the first fat raindrops fell onto his armor. They had been fighting in the valley for weeks now, and the weather had been a stumbling block every step of the way. His men were cold and tired and they were no closer to defeating the English Duke’s army than when they started.

“I say, let’s back to Bourges. The castle is well stocked and can withstand a siege through the winter. Let these English dogs freeze in their tents all winter. We’ll be snug with wine and wenches at home.” Walter replied in his usual irreverent manner.

Sir Michael quirked a small grin at his friend’s manner, but was quickly doused by his view of the enemy readying for battle across the valley. “I am thinking more and more that I agree with you. Let us finish this today or return to Bourges till spring.”

The battle was fierce, but as Michael expected they made no headway against the British. As dusk was approaching, he readied himself for one more charge into the battle. He was turning his war horse, Lucifer, back towards the fray, something in the nearby forest caught his eye. It was a girl, perhaps 18, standing partially behind a tree. She was watching him with a curious look on her face. She was tall for a girl with long blonde hair that was braided into three cascading loops down her back. She carried a satchel over her shoulder.

Michael was mesmerized by her. What was a young maid doing this close to a battle? Didn’t she know how much danger there was? Suddenly, her eyes changed and a voice in his head shouted, “Look out!”. Michael tore his eyes from the girl in time to meet his attacker’s sword with his own. As he battled the English knight, Michael had to fight to keep from turning back to see if she was still there.

The rain had started again and both his and his opponents mounts were slipping and sidestepping in the mud. As Lucifer struggled for purchase on the muddy ground, Michael’s attacker got in a lucky blow, slashing Michael across the thigh. Michael howled in outrage, his pain fueling his anger. He fought back viciously, killing his foe and then signaling for his men to retreat.

The French army fell back to their encampment, bloody, wet and tired. As the servants and soldiers stoked the fires, the squires hurried forward to assist the knights with their horses and armor. Sir Michael’s squire, Bernard, gasped when he saw the gaping wound in his master’s leg.

Bernard looked questionly at Walter who only shook his head and sat down to remove his own armor. Without support from the older knight, Bermard could only do as his master had instructed. He went to the trunk and pulled out a long piece of linen to wrap Michael’s injury.

Bernard knew some of the ways of healing from his mother and he was loathe to leave his master in this state. A wound this bad needed to be cared for by a healer and quickly, or the person could succumb to the fever.

Once his wound was dressed, Michael strode out to attend to his horse. He called back to Walter as he left the tent. “We leave at first light for Bourges.”

The column of soldiers and knights was still a half day’s march from the castle at Bourges when Walter called a halt. He looked at Michael, knowing that the younger knight needed the rest, but would never call one for himself.

Walter could see how fine he was. Michael’s skin had taken on a grayish cast, and he could hardly remain upright in his saddle. If Walter had looked closely, he would have seen that the wound was bleeding again and had nearly soaked through the leg of Michael’s trousers.

What Michael really wanted to get out of the saddle, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remount without aid. And he was damned if he’d asked Walter or Bernard for help. Lucifer tossed his head, and proceeded to munch on the grass at the edge of the trees.

Michael gave the horse his head, and closed his eyes against the pain for a brief moment. With his eyes closed to the forest around him, the image that he saw was of a beautiful, blonde maiden. He could see her up close now and saw that her eyes were the purest of blue. As before, he heard a voice say, 'Let me help you.'

Michael opened his eyes and looked around for the owner of the voice. He was alone. Shaking his head and looking towards his men, Michael let his eyes drift closed again. She was there again. He saw her with her satchel open, kneeling on the ground sorting through some sort of herbs. She looked up into his eyes, You must let me help you. Again Michael’s eyes jerked open; again he saw no one.

“Move out,” he called to the men, jerking Lucifer’s reigns around. The coal black stallion, who was perfectly content to make a meal of the roadside grasses, gave an annoyed snort and then trotted to the front of the column. Two hours later, still far from the safety of the castle and to Walter’s amazement, Michael called a halt and told the men to make camp. The weary soldiers, though eager to reach the comfort of their own beds, were glad to have respite from the damp rain that had been upon them since they began that morning.

Michael dismounted stiffly and once it was ready, entered his tent. When Walter entered a few moments later, it was to find an unconscious Michael, collapsed into a heap.

“Yes, sire,” Bernard rushed in. He gasped when he saw his master and then quickly recovering his composure, helped Walter to settle Michael onto his cot. Bernard quickly slit his master’s trousers and took notice of the blood soaked bandage. He unwrapped the bleeding wound, the edges now raw and red. Bernard shook his head. Michael would get the fever for certain now.

“Sir Walter would you have one of the pages fetch me some water and some new linen?” Bernard asked without looking up, too scared for Michael’s life to concern himself with the proper etiquette of speaking to one of his betters.

The minutes passed and finally Bernard was given the supplies he needed. He cleaned and dressed the wound as best as he could and then left Michael alone in the tent to rest.

Late that night, after wild hares had been caught and roasted. The men sat close to the fires trying to gain the feeble warmth that emanated from them. Walter gave up on trying to get warm and decided instead to get dry in his tent.

As he pushed back the flap, he was surprised to see that someone had lit a candle within. Even more surprising, was the young woman that knelt by Sir Michael’s cot. She looked up at him when he entered, her piercing blue eyes pleading with his. She put a finger to her lips indicating that he should be silent.

Michael moaned and she dipped the cloth in her hand into a bowl of water and wet his brow. She turned again to Walter and whispered, “He has a fever. I have stitched his wound and covered it with one of my dressings. It should draw out the poisons that remain within. The fever he must fight on his own.”

Walter, unable to speak, simply nodded. The girl continued, “I can make a drink that will help him if you will assist me in getting him to drink it.” She ducked her head shyly, “It doesn’t taste well at all.” Then she smiled and Walter thought his old heart would cease to beat.

Michael moaned again drawing the girl’s attention away from Walter. When she had cooled his brow again, she turned her gaze back on the older man.

Walter knew that those of the ancient religion were usually persecuted and shunned, even burned as demons and witches. Most of the women he’d known of the ancient faith, had been healers; simple women who knew of herbs and plants. This knowledge had been passed down from the ancients and had escaped the “physicians” of the Church; thus the unlearned persecuted those who could do what they could not.

Nicci breathed a sigh of relief and began to mix a potion in a ewer of water. Walter almost gagged when he smelt the foul brew. Nicci saw his reaction and laughed softly. “I warned you. He won’t take it easily.”

“Please hold him, while I spoon it into his throat. It will take a long while to get him to swallow it all. But when it reaches his belly, the fever will be lessened.”

Walter did as she bade him, sitting down on Michael’s cot and propping the younger man’s head in his lap. He took firm hold of Michael’s shoulders and Nicci began to administer her medicine with a small wooden spoon.

At the first taste of the medicine, Michael shuddered and coughed. As she continued, he twisted and turned, trying to escape Walter’s strong grasp. Finally, after several minutes, Nicci put down her bowl and nodded her head to Walter.

As Walter stood and stretched his tired arms, Michael began to shake his head and murmur. Walter looked at Michael and then as the murmurs turned to nightmare like shouts, he looked to Nicci.

She nodded. “The nightmares are part of the fever. I had hoped that the draught we gave him would help to prevent them, but I was too late. I will sit with him in his rantings. You rest, sire.”

As the night wore on, Nicci continued to whisper into Michael’s ear when his fever-induced nightmares would get too violent. She bathed his brow with cool water, allowing her fingers to trail lightly across his forehead, to his mouth and chin.

She was amazed at the beauty of this knight. Most of the fighting men she had treated in the past had been hard, cold men with battle scars and ugly souls. This Sir Michael was different. In his dreams, he called for people named Adam, Elena, and Madeline. For the first time in her young life, Nicci found herself jealous of these people that obviously had a place in this knight’s heart.

She shivered involuntarily at the way he said her name. Turning quickly to see if Walter was sleeping, Nicci leaned down and placed a small kiss on Michael’s lips. Amazed at her own brazenness, but enjoying the new sensations nonetheless, Nicci touched her lips to his again.

This time, Michael’s hand came up, pulling her head to his, deepening the kiss. Nicci was startled and started to struggle, but the wonderful feelings this man was stirring within her, caused her to stop. She closed her eyes and allowed a still mostly unconscious Michael drive her first kiss. But as his tongue entered her mouth, Nicci pulled back wide-eyed and rushed breathless from the tent.

Dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky and Nicci could see that all around her the men were starting to stir. This was not the place for a young woman. She determined that she would be safer inside the tent with Michael and Sir Walter, and she ducked back inside.

“No!” she exclaimed more loudly than she had intended. She quieted her voice and then continued, “Is there any way he can stay here for a day or two to heal?”

Walter scratched his chin and then relented, “What if I leave three soldiers here to guard him? You may stay with him. I must return with the men to Bourges today.”

Nicci smiled her brilliant smile and threw her arms around Walter’s neck. “Oh thank you sire. He will thank you as well.” Walter suddenly had no thoughts in his head except that he would willingly do anything this blue-eyed angel asked of him. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, uh I must make arrangements…”

Walter met her gaze uneasily. “The men have returned, madam. Your son was injured. We left Sir Michael and a contingent of guards under a healer’s care and half a day’s ride from here.”

Madeline sucked in her breath. Walter hurried on, “No need to worry, madam. The healer was skilled and his wound should heal. I expect them home on the morrow or the day after.”

Madeline knelt at his level. “Adam, my love, your father was hurt in his battle. Sir Walter tells me that a healer is taking care of him and he will be home soon.” The four year old Adam seemed to understand, nodded his head seriously, and then ran off to play.

At Sir Michael’s tent, three men had been left as sentinels, although the only one whose name Nicci knew was named Davenport. All three seemed uncomfortable with a young girl tending their master. They all wanted to put him in the wagon and be off for home.

Nicci seemed to sense their unease and it worried her. These men did not trust her and it made her afraid of them She had not been around men much in her young life. She and her nana, Adrian, lived in a small cottage in the forest. Nana always went the market in Bourges when they needed something. Nicci had heard stories about soldiers and what they did to young girls. As the hours wore on, she became more and more uneasy. She stayed by Michael’s side within his tent and whispered in his ear to heal quickly.

Though Michael was still feverish, he was resting comfortably and the worst of the nightmares had stopped. Nicci started thinking about her brief kiss. Her faced flushed as she put her fingers to her lips, remembering the feeling of Michael’s mouth on hers. She turned to him and ran her fingertips through his auburn curls. He stirred and she snatched her hand back. Her eyes widened as his eyelids flickered open.

“It’s Nicci, sire,” she answered. Nicci couldn’t believe the change that had come over this man since he had awakened. Instead of looking warm and caring as he had while asleep, he now looked harder and colder than she could’ve imagined.

Nicci looked around at the tent and tentatively reached a hand out to feel Michael’s forehead. It was burning hot. She didn’t know how she would restrain Michael in his delusions. Nicci was contemplating asking the soldiers for help when suddenly Michael collapsed back onto his cot.

Nicci let out a sigh of relief and began to bathe his forehead with cool cloths again. Without warning, Michael grabbed her hands and pulled her against his chest. He held her as she struggled against him. When she finally gave up her struggles and relaxed against his side, Michael wrapped a tender arm around her and settled her more comfortably against him. Nicci told herself that she would only lie here with him until his fever was better, but her many hours without sleep caught up with her and soon she was sleeping soundly in his arms.

The next morning, Nicci checked Michael’s fever and was worried to find that he was still feverish. She bathed his brow and then went to the edge of the forest to relieve herself.

While she was gone, Davenport entered his commander’s tent to find Michael ranting again. However, as before, Michael seemed to be perfectly lucid.

“Do not let her escape. She is my prisoner. I want her taken immediately to the dungeon at Bourges and we will be on our way by the noon day hour.” Michael told him.

Though Davenport was confused as to why the woman suddenly was an enemy, he was not going to question his liege’s orders. He saluted smartly and strode from the tent.

“Sir Michael has ordered that I take the girl into custody immediately. I will leave for Bourges to put her in the dungeon as soon as I can saddle my mount. You two are to bring Sir Michael to Bourges; leave by the noon hour.” Davenport commanded his men.

Nicci’s mouth dropped open and all words left her head. Davenport came towards her and tied her hands in front of her. He lifted her onto the front of his saddle and mounted behind her. Nicci, who was terrified of horses, could not utter a word of protest. She gripped the front of the saddle until her knuckles were white.

The two men left to accompany Sir Michael back to the castle entered his tent, well before the noon hour, to notify him of their readiness. He was sweating and clammy on his cot. The two men looked at each other and then not questioning their orders, hoisted him up and placed him on blankets in the back of the wagon. They tethered their war horses to the wagon and then slapped the reigns of the pack horses and headed for Bourges.

Davenport and Nicci reached Bourges before the others had gone 10 miles. He lifted her down from the saddle, feeling guilty at her obviously fragile condition. Although he was loathe to, he carried her to the dungeon and laid her on a cot. Davenport was glad for once that the dungeon at Bourges was fairly decent compared to some. At least there were hard dirt floors and no rats.

His unpleasant duty done, Davenport went in search of Sir Walter to make his report. Upon arriving at the garrison, he was told that Sir Walter had gone to a neighboring castle for several days to meet with Bourges’ allies against the Brittish. Not knowing what else to do, Davenport resolved to let Sir Michael discuss the woman with Sir Walter when they both returned.

Later that evening, the wagon carrying Sir Michael pulled into the inner bailey. The two soldiers rushed out in search of help. Upon seeing one of the stable lads, they bade him to fetch Mistress Madeline immediately.

Upon hearing the request, Madeline hurried to the courtyard to find her son pale and gray, lying in the back of the wagon. “Bring him to his chamber immediately!” She ordered. “And fetch the physician.”

The men carried their sickly commander and laid him on his bed. Madeline had the maids bring fresh water and she began to strip him of his sweat soaked garments. When the water arrived, they began to bathe his body with the cool water to bring his fever down.

In the dungeon, Nicci awoke and looked around her. Her heart constricted as she realized that she was indeed locked in the dungeon. “What have I done to cause him to do this to me?” she wondered to herself. “If only Sir Walter were here,” she lamented. She noticed that someone had left a meal, if one could call it that; so she sat down on her cot and proceeded to eat.

The days passed with little change. Nicci slept, ate, and waited. Madeline tended her son. Michael made little improvement. The physician told Madeline that there was no more treatment that he could offer and left the castle. Adam, seeming to understand the severity of the situation, was calm and stayed by his father’s side most of the time.

Finally, things changed when Walter returned. Upon hearing of Michael’s condition, he proceeded immediately to his young friend’s chamber. He found Madeline there ministering to Michael in his weakened condition. There were dark circles under her eyes and it looked as if she had been crying.

Though Walter was startled by this “improper” embrace, he wrapped his arms around her to give her the solace that she needed. After a moment he drew back and asked, “What is his condition?”

“The physician?! Where is the girl?” he asked in astonishment. He had not thought that the young Nicci would have abandoned her charge so easily.

“There is no sense to this. I must investigate this matter. I beg your leave Madam,” Walter bowed respectfully and left Madeline to her own thoughts and questions.

It took Walter several hours to track down Davenport. He finally found him in the arms of a tavern maid. Not caring about the indecency of the situation, Walter barged into the room.

The couple on the bed gasped, and the girl grappled for a covering for her nudity. Davenport jumped out of bed heedless of his undressed condition and grabbed for his sword. Once he realized who the intruder was, he proceeded to pull on his breeches and ask, “Sir Walter, what is is?”.

It took Davenport and moment, but then he said, “Sir Michael ordered she be taken to the dungeon sire. The day after you left. I saddled my mount and returned with her forthwith.”

“Sir Michael has been near death for days,” Walter ground out, flinging open the door and rushing out. He raced back to the castle with as much speed as he could coax out of his stallion. Nicci looked up when the door to the dungeon was flung open. She began to weep with relief.

“Sir Walter, by the gods, I don’t know why he has ordered this upon me. His fever was terribly poor. Has he recovered?” She rambled to him in relief.

As they burst into Michael’s room, Madeline started in her chair. “My lady, this is Nicci the healer I spoke of. If I am right in my judgment of her, we will not be burying your son.” Walter told Madeline.

Nicci, not waiting for an introduction, strode hurriedly to the bed. Madeline was surprised at the girl’s height. Why she was almost as tall as her son. Madeline prayed silently, “Please God, help this young woman to help my son.”

Within hours, Michael’s color had returned. Nicci had redressed his wound and applied a salve of herbs. The fever was gone, but Michael, in his weakened condition, slept soundly. The entire castle seemed to hear of Nicci’s wonderful healing talents and had brought all kinds of ailments for her to treat. When she would leave Michael’s chamber, she would be assaulted by someone asking for a treatment for gout or to assist in delivering a difficult baby. Nicci always had a smile for them and soon knew the names of many of the castle servants.

By the third day, Michael awoke. He sat up in bed, awakening Nicci who had been asleep in a chair. She had rested her head on her crossed arms at the foot of Michael’s bed.

Without answering, she stood and unwrapped his bandage. The wound was a thin red line without infection or swelling. She smiled up at him as she redressed the wound. “Yes.”

Nicci let her gaze fall to the floor for a moment and then looked back into his eyes. “I had a dream about you. I saw a battle and a…” she paused, “handsome knight that would be injured. I followed the army to the battle and waited. I saw you that day on your horse and knew it was you.”

What was it about this man that affected her so? She wondered to herself as she hurried to tell the others. She put her hand over her pounding heart, then felt her heated cheeks. I must leave here she told herself, not wanting to admit that she had grown to enjoy the people in the castle and town of Bourges. Nana will know what I should do.

After informing Sir Walter and Madeline of Michael’s recovery, Nicci began to pack her few belongings and then slipped out of the castle gates before they were locked for the night. It was not a long walk to her home in the forest, but she did not relish doing it in the dark. As she hurried along the roads and paths she knew so well, Nicci began to think about the auburn-haired stranger that had captivated her.

Unable to stop herself, Nicci gasped again. “I don’t know Nana. I… he… I’ve never felt this way about anyone. While I was at the castle, many people came to me with their ails and I helped them. I even delivered a baby, just like you taught me.” Nicci knew she was rambling and trying to change the subject, but she didn’t care.

“My dear, my visions can only give me a feeling about what is happening. You must decide with your heart what is best for you.” Adrian told her wisely.

“Adam, I have told you that I must regain my strength. Besides, the weather has turned bitterly cold. Lightning won’t want you to ride him in the sleet and wind.” Michael answered.

Sensing that he was dismissed, Adam left the room to find someone else to play with. Michael went back to reading and forgot about his conversation with his son.

As the winter worsened, Michael’s health improved and soon he was back to attending to his duties as lord of the castle. The servants were kept busy during the winter inventorying the stores, salting meat and fish, and preparing for the siege that could possibly come from the British.

Each week, Michael received word of the British troop movements. He was relieved to realize that they were not going to camp on his doorstep, but were instead heading back to their own territories to rest over the winter.

Not one to be caught unaware, however; Michael made sure that his soldiers trained daily and the a constant watch was positioned on the walls. Hunting parties were sent out to ensure enough meat for the citizens within the protection of the castle, and extra provisions such as salt and wine were purchased in case of an emergency.

Both men leapt to their feet, the first man regaining his composure first. “Sire, I was telling Marcus here that we should be telling you that the young Master Adam has taken his horse and sneaked off.”

Michael strode back to the castle to inform his mother of his plan. After throwing a fur lined cloak around his shoulders, he returned to the stable, noticing the dark clouds that were quickly forming in the distance. Hurriedly, he threw his leg over the stallion’s back and galloped out of the gates.

Adrian and Nicci were in the forest gathering the last of the herbs they could gather before the weather turned awful again. They were working rapidly, knowing that a storm was approaching and that wet weather brought with it illness.

As Nicci worked, her thoughts turned again to Michael. Over the past weeks, many questions had arisen in her mind. What kind of man was Michael really? She had seen him only in a fevered state. What about his son, Adam? Did he have a wife? Nicci had come to realize that the people in the castle loved and admired Sir Michael very much during the brief time she was there, but her mind still wondered on all the curiosities lingering in her brain.

They hurried back through the rain and closed the door gratefully as the storm unleashed its full fury. Both women sat warming in front of their fire as they sifted through the gifts from nature that only those of their faith knew how to use.

Michael had been riding for over an hour in the driving sleet searching for Adam. He had assumed that Adam would ride to the lake, but did not find him there.

He thought briefly of returning to the castle to enlist more riders to aid in the search, but the weather had turned sour so quickly that he didn’t want to waste the time. He was sure that Adam was not properly dressed for this weather and wanted to find him quickly.

He reigned in his mount for a moment, trying to determine where the young boy would go. Suddenly it struck him that Adam had been wanting to explore the ruins south of the town of Bourges. He pulled his horse’s head around and spurred him into a gallop, heading for the town and beyond.

Adam sat shivering with his back against a large section of an ancient fallen wall, while his horse sullenly grazed with his back to the wind. Tears were mixing with the rain on Adam’s face as he wished he were home in his warm castle.

The wind and the rain beat down on him, and soon Adam stopped shivering. He felt tired and laid his head down on the wet grass, staring off into the distance. He didn’t even sit up when he saw his father’s horse charging into view. Adam slowly closed his eyes.

Michael saw Adam on the ground and thinking his son was dead, threw himself down off his horse and ran to the boy. He was shocked to feel how cold the boy was and to see the bluish hue of his lips, but tears of joy ran down his cheeks when Adam opened his eyes briefly and smiled before closing them again.

Michael jerked Lightning’s reigns and tied them quickly to his own saddle, then cradling Adam against the warmth of his own body, he and the two horses raced back to the castle.

By the time Michael arrived, Adam’s color had improved somewhat, but now the boy was shivering violently again. Michael yelled for his mother and taking the stairs two at a time made his way to the second floor. He stripped the cold, wet clothes off the boy and laying him on the bed, covered him with as many wool blankets as he could find.

As Madeline came into the room she gasped at the sight of her son and grandson. Michael didn’t think about his own appearance, but at his mother’s reaction assumed that he did not look well.

“Michael, you must go warm up as well. Put on dry clothes, I will stay with Adam until you return. I will not have you becoming ill so soon after your own recovery,” Madeline ordered, taking control of the situation.

Michael began to protest, but at his mother’s firm look turned and hurried to his own chamber to change. When he returned, he found his mother cradling Adam against her body, lending him her own heat. He looked on in amazement, thinking that she herself must be freezing by now.

But Madeline shook her head and told him to put more wood on the fire. Michael did as he was told feeling somewhat like a young boy again himself. He could see the fierce love his mother had for his son. Michael thought again how he wished that he had not killed Adam’s mother.

The next day, the storm had abated somewhat, but Adam had gone from freezing cold to burning hot. Michael and Madeline had stayed with him through the night, warming him in his chills and bathing his raging fever.

And Michael knew this was true. He turned without a word and went in search of Walter. Michael had been thinking of the young blonde woman for weeks, although he would admit it to no one. Now, although he wouldn’t have chosen these circumstances, he was secretly glad to be seeing her again. That is, if we can find her, he thought to himself.

“Walter, Adam is worse. We must find that young healer,” Michael told the older man. He didn’t want to admit that he remembered her name like it was burned on his heart.

“Well someone must know. Adam could die if she doesn’t help him,” Michael said a bit frantically. “I want every available servant to go into Bourges and find out where she lives.”

“Yes, Michael. I will see to it personally,” Walter told his friend. He too was glad to have the chance to see the young beauty again. He knew he was old enough to be her father or even grandfather, but her eyes and her smile made him feel young again. Just to be near her was like sitting next to a cozy fire. Yes, he would definitely make sure that she was found. For Adam’s sake, and for everyone else’s.

It took them two days to find someone who knew of two women healers that lived in the forests east of Bourges. Michael and Walter went personally to ask Nicci to come and administer her medicines to Adam.

The weather, though not severe, was still cloudy, damp and gray. The two knights were dressed warmly with heavy woolen coats under their fur lined cloaks. Michael and Walter rode their steeds side by side as they searched for the small cottage that the villager had told them was there… somewhere.

It was beginning to get dark when they finally spied the small cottage in a lovely clearing in the forest, right next to a small stream, now swollen from the storm.

Both men dismounted and Michael pounded on the wooden door with his gloved fist. He looked down as a slight, grey-haired woman answered the door. She smiled at the two men and motioned for them to enter.

Walter and Michael looked at each other in astonishment. How could this woman invite two strange men into her home without even so much as an introduction. Once they entered the tiny cottage, they could see why. Nicci stood, dressed in warm traveling garments, with her bag of herbs clutched in her hands.

Both men nodded and she continued, “I dreamed of sickness at Bourges last night. I prayed it was not Sir Michael once again, and now I can see that it is not.” She smiled again, but the smile was short-lived.

The men removed their cloaks and hung them on the pegs by the door. Walter stripped off his gloves and moved to warm himself by the fire. The smells emanating from the large pot hanging over the fire made his mouth water and his stomach grumble.

The old woman dished up two large crocks of stew and set a large loaf of crusty bread on the table for the men. Both men sat down, grateful to be warm and dry… and off a horse.

Nicci’s eyes flew to Michael. Hadn’t he heard her calling to him? He glanced up at her and she could tell from his expression that he had. Didn’t he trust her? Why didn’t he follow her call?

Michael was surprised to see Nicci’s look when Walter had said they were lost. He had heard a voice in his mind, but he didn’t want to admit, even to himself, the effect she had on him. He looked down again, concentrating instead on his stew.

“Tell me about Adam. I need to know everything. This situation of waiting may be helpful. Nana may have suggestions as well as to his treatment,” Nicci told the knights.

“Three days ago he went riding and got caught in the storm. When I found him he could hardly stay awake and his lips were blue. We warmed him with blankets and our own bodies through the night, but now he burns with fever,” Michael told her solemnly.

Michael thought for a moment then shook his head, “I don’t know. He didn’t seem to be having any difficulty when we left, but that was two days ago,” he confessed.

Nicci turned to her grandmother and the two conferred quietly for a moment, then Nicci went to a cupboard in the small cooking area and retrieved two or three different herbs for her bag.

Michael and Walter both nodded, noting the efficiency in her manner. She seemed to them like a knight preparing for battle, only she was battling death.

All of the occupants of the cottage woke before dawn and began their preparations to leave for the castle. Walter saddled the horses, while Michael helped Nicci with her small satchel and her bag of herbs.

Michael almost bumped into her back as she stopped and asked, “Can’t what?” He took her arm and began towing her towards the waiting animals.

As they neared Michael’s stallion, Lucifer pranced and threw his head sensing her dread. Michael jerked his reigns, and the stallion immediately quieted for his master.

He handed the two bags to Walter and then lifted Nicci up onto the huge black horse, then mounted behind her. She sat stiffly, uncomfortable so far forward on the big saddle.

“Here, like this,” Michael instructed, lifting her until she was settled on his muscular thighs and leaning against his chest. “You’ll feel less jarring.”

She turned and looked at him. He was so close that she almost bumped his chin with her head. He face was inches from hers. She stared into his eyes and forgot what she was going to say. They stared at each other for a long moment. Nicci finally realized what she had intended and quietly said, “Thank you”.

Walter sat ready on his steed laughing inside at the young couple. He’d never seen Michael so smitten before. Were they going to stare at each other all day? Walter politely cleared his throat and the spell was broken. Michael looked up and then jerked his glove back on. He slapped the reigns on to Lucifer’s neck and the stallion jumped into a run.

Nicci gasped at the initial burst of speed, but then, proud that she had not succumbed to fainting, began to actually enjoy the ride. She knew it would not take them long to reach the castle by horseback, perhaps two hours, and she was tingling everywhere. Not an unpleasant tingling, no indeed. Whether for fear of her falling or for some other reason, Michael kept his arm around her waist to steady her. She felt every inch of his arm and his warmth soaked into her back and the backs of her thighs. If the horse had not been running at top speed, she thought she might lean her head back into his strong shoulder. Nikita sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of this man.

Michael grit his teeth as the vixen on his lap sighed and snuggled her soft behind further into his lap. Didn’t the girl know that a man has his limits. This was worse than an torture he could have received from an enemy. Strands of her hair, though braided, had escaped their fastenings and now brushed and blew against his cheek. The scent of her hair and skin was driving him to distraction. He could hardly navigate through the forest ahead. He shook his head, mentally rebuking himself, and sat up straighter in the saddle. The unfortunate consequence of this action, however, was to draw the arm he held about her waist upward until his forearm just brushed the bottoms of her breasts. Michael groaned inwardly and tried to concentrate on the journey.

“I must see to my horse,” he told her, as Walter handed her herbs, “I will join you shortly.” Michael pulled Lucifer’s reigns towards the stables and returned Walter’s knowing smile with a glare.

“Oh yes,” she said matter-of-factly, “It will just take some time. Can I have a cot or a bed brought into this chamber so that I may stay with him at night?”

Nikita smiled at him and Michael froze. He could not let this girl affect him. He put on the most blank face he could conjure and stalked from the room. He did not see the effect that it had on Nikita.

After Michael had made arrangements for Nikita’s bed, he went in search of his mother. The nightmares had been bothering him again lately and he needed to speak to her about it.

Michael found his mother in her solar, working on her tapestry. She had been relieved to give up the care of her grandson to someone who could make a difference. Madeline had felt helpless indeed during her watch over Adam.

“I know dear. The servants are silly and uneducated. Someone sees something while drunk and then others claim to see apparitions. You know that they all believe that you … had something to do with her death,” Madeline said diplomatically.

“Michael, look at me,” Madeline commanded in a sharp tone. “You know that no matter what evidence or circumstance that Jurgen claims, I will never believe that you killed your wife. Until you have a clear memory of what happened that night, there is nothing that will ever make me doubt you.”

Michael paused a moment and then said, “I’m sure you’re right Mother. Thank you.” He lifted one of her hands and kissed it gently, then left the room.

After Michael left Madeline’s solar, he determined to spend the rest of the day catching up on his duties. There were many things he had let fall by the wayside while he had been searching for Nikita. His first stop was the kitchen to speak to the cook.

Nikita stayed by Adam’s side throughout the first day and slept little the first night. By the next morning, she could see that his fever had lessened and he was resting more comfortably. She gave him his medicine, patted his head and told him, “You be a good boy now. I’m going to go to the kitchen and see if I can find someone to make you some light broth to eat, alright?”

On the way to the kitchen, she thought about the fact that she had not seen Michael since she arrived. It seemed odd that he had not checked on his son even once. He had looked so fiercely at her when he left the room, she wondered if she had done something to anger him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Michael’s voice as she entered the kitchens. He was giving instructions to the cook, a large, plump woman named Harriet. He turned to stare at her as she entered, pausing mid-sentence.

Michael realized with chagrin that he had not finished his direction. He hurriedly completed his task with the cook and quickly left the kitchen, not sparing a second glance at Nikita.

“Well, I’ve never seen him like that before,” the cook murmured to herself. She turned her attention to Nikita, “You’re the healer aren’t you? What can I do for you?”

“Oh the poor lad. I will whip some up for him in just a mite. I’m so glad you are here to tend to him. The master would be lost without his only son.”

Nikita smiled widely, rejoicing in this new-found friend. A conspiratorial thought entered her mind and before she could think, it spilled out of her traitorous mouth.

“Let me tell you about that, dear. About five years ago, I think, the master got himself betrothed to the Lady Elena from Auxerre. It was supposed to be an alliance of some sort. Strange, how men think that marriages should be made on maps instead of in hearts. Makes me glad I’m just a poor woman, at least I was able to marry my sweetheart John.

“Oh me, I’m rambling again. So… Sir Michael and the Lady Elena were married. There were some troubles with one of her previous suitors. Seems he claims that the lady was promised to him, but her father broke the contract to wed her to Sir Michael, a more powerful lord. Well, everything seemed to be fine. They were a distant but cordial couple as these arranged marriages go and then the lady got with child.

“Sir Michael was pleased of course that she would bear him children. Her days of confinement were terrible however. She was sick all the time and she was such a delicate thing to start. Finally, the baby came; a boy – Adam. The master was very satisfied to have an heir and the lady was glad to have given her husband something to love her for. However, nothing changed between them. There were rumors among the staff that they never came together as man and wife after that.”

“Well, there was an argument over something. No one really knows now. But right after, his lordship left for several months to tour his lands and check with his overseers. When he returned, he found that the Lady Elena had left for her parent’s home in Auxerre and had taken the baby with her. He went to fetch them both back and found her entertaining that previous suitor at her parent’s estates.”

“Yes,” the cook nodded solemnly, “Sir Michael ordered them back here immediately and that caused another disagreement. The lady’s suitor, the Earl of Sens, a Lord Jurgen, challenged Sir Michael. But Sir Michael ignored him and left with his wife and child.

“Shortly after they had returned to Bouges, the lady was found dead in her bed. Stabbed. The knife was found at her side. Sir Michael told all that he can remember nothing of that night other than going to sleep, but Lord Jurgen claims that his lordship murdered the lady in a jealous rage.

“The accusation was never founded on any evidence, but the servants believe that the master did it. And between us, I think Sir Michael must blame himself as well. And since her death, the servants have talked of her spirit walking the halls of the castle seeking revenge on her husband.”

“I’ve never seen her myself, but I tell you there are some that would swear that she walks the halls in the dead of night,” Harriet concluded.

Nikita sat at the table absorbing this information for a moment, when the cook suddenly, jumped up and exclaimed, “Oh dear, here I’ve been yapping your ear off when I should have been making the boy’s broth. You go back up with him dearie. I’ll have one of the maids bring it up.”

Nikita nodded and walked slowly out of the kitchen, her thoughts full of this interesting new information. She didn’t know where to catalog it in her mind. What kind of man was Sir Michael of Bourges? She needed more information and hoped she knew the place to get it.

“A ghost!?” Walter exclaimed with a loud guffaw. “That’s preposterous! So’s all that nonsense about Michael killing Elena. Pure nonsense.”

“Bah, the servants are unrefined fools. They would believe anything someone told them. Sir Michael is the most honorable man I know. Not that the ‘lady’ didn’t deserve what she got,” Walter said in disgust, putting a negative turn on the word lady.

“The woman was deceitful, running off to her parents when she should’ve been here running the affairs of Bourges while Michael was gone. Instead, she’s sitting pretty up in Auxerre entertaining her ‘gentlemen’ callers. It’s probably well that she’s dead. Any children she bore after that little escapade would have been suspect.”

Nikita nodded, realizing that the woman could have been committing adultery while she had been gone. She knew that the Catholic religion had severe penalties for such a sin.

“Sir Walter, please tell me plainly. What kind of man is Sir Michael? Sometimes when I see him, I can see a gentle soul and other times I see a hard, angry warrior. Which is it?” Nikita pleaded.

Walter laughed. “I was wondering when you’d come asking. Let me tell you one thing about Michael. He is a man with a tortured soul. Ever since Elena died, he has felt as if his honor is gone. Nikita, he needs someone to heal his soul. Look past the coldness to the broken heart within.”

The next day, Nikita could see that Adam’s health was improving rapidly. It always amazed her how the young children could be so resilient when they healed or so frail when they perished. Nikita was glad that Adam would not be leaving another pain on his father’s heart.

Unfortunately, as the boy recovered, the weather worsened, so Nikita made the decision that she would stay at the castle until the spring rather than to return to the cottage in the woods. She knew that she would feel it if Adrian needed her. Once her decision was made, she seemed to feel Adrian’s approval in a warmth that flowed through her. Nikita smiled.

With her time freed up from watching Adam, Nikita again was able to tend to the people living in and around the castle. There were daily injuries, another baby, a broken finger. Nikita found herself enjoying this position that she had found among these people at Bourges.

Every so often she would run into Sir Michael and she always had a smile for him or a question about the castle and the maintenance of it. Eventually, he seemed to soften a bit towards her, but he still retained his cold, blank mask. Nikita was at a loss at how to bring it down.

Michael and Nikita had been taking turns sleeping in Adam’s room to ensure that he had no difficulties in the night. One night, several weeks after Nikita’s arrival at the castle, she went to check on Adam and found Michael asleep, his head resting on the foot of Adam’s bed.

Nikita smiled at the tender picture that lay before her. What a devoted father he is, she thought to herself. Before she could stop herself, she moved closer to Michael and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Before she could blink, Michael had awakened, gripped her wrist, and stood up. Nikita could only gasp in alarm at the speed at which Michael had moved.

Michael, not fully awake, stared at Nikita for several long minutes. She could see the look of desire shining in his eyes and her heart fluttered to see something besides his blank mask. Nikita was sure that, in the silence of those long moments, Michael could hear her heart beating against her ribcage. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she continued to meet his gaze.

All she could utter was one word, “Michael,” coming out of her mouth as hardly a whisper. Apparently seeing that as an invitation, Michael pulled her into his arms and his mouth crashed down on hers, unleashing all of the frustration he’d been feeling for weeks.

Nikita felt as if she were in a storm. Michael’s mouth demanded her attention. Of their own accord, her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, and Michael groaned against her neck and pulled her closer. Then his lips were on hers again, his tongue begging entry. Hesitantly, she opened her lips and lightly touched her tongue to his. It was as if the storm suddenly increased its intensity tenfold. Nikita had never felt anything like the sensations that were swirling through her body. Michael’s hand came up and tangled in her braid, tilting her head back. He then proceeded to lavish attention on her neck and then her ear.

Lost in emotions she couldn’t describe, Nikita again moaned his name. The effect was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured onto him. Michael lurched back from her suddenly, breathing heavily. The blank look slammed back into place.

Although feeling a bit off balance, Nikita smiled inwardly. Though she would have liked to continue their wonderful kiss, she knew that she must lead him along inch by inch. A prideful man like Michael would not give in easily to his convictions, even if they were silly ones.

In the days and weeks that followed, Nikita went out of her way to ensure that she crossed Michael’s path as often as possible. More often than not, he would ignore her or give her a polite nod of his head and then continue about his business.

However, on occasion, if she could “arrange” the appropriate circumstances, Michael would give in to his passion for a brief instant and steal a momentary kiss from her. These were the moments Nikita treasured. Although, afterward, he always acted as if nothing had happened, Nikita knew that she was slowly finding chinks in that armor of his.

She wondered to herself if she shouldn’t feel cheapened by these exchanges, like some brazen camp follower, who would sell her body and expect nothing in return. But she did not. Her kisses with Michael left her breathless and yearning for more.

She knew that her time at the castle would be coming to an end when spring brought with it warmer weather. She knew she must return to the cottage in the forest and help Nana sow the seeds for the plants and herbs they would need in the coming seasons. So, in an attempt to gain more of Michael’s time, Nikita began spending great amounts of time with a now fully-mended Adam.

Though her original intent had been to engage the father, Nikita found herself being thoroughly engaged by the son. Adam was a lively and bright child. He spent much of his time with her, touring about the castle and showing her his hiding places. Soon the servants about the castle were surprised if the boy and the healer were NOT together.

One morning, when the weather was particularly nasty, Adam and Nikita determined to explore the treasures hidden in the attic rooms of the castle. The long unused rooms were dusty and dank, but to a four year old child and a curious young woman, they were islands of adventure waiting to be uncovered.

In one room, they found stacks of old portraits; lords and ladies of Bourges from bygone years. Near the top of one stack, was a portrait of a lovely woman with dark hair and eyes. She was wearing a beautiful gold silk gown of a style that was still in fashion. Nikita wondered who she was.

Nikita sucked in her breath and turned the picture around for a closer inspection. The artist had depicted a strikingly exotic young woman perhaps only a few years older than Nikita. She had dark skin and almond-shaped eyes. Although she tried not to, Nikita felt a small pang of jealousy surge within her. The feeling was quickly replaced with regret for Adam. Though he had a loving father and grandmother, nothing could replace losing his mother. He must not even remember her, she thought.

As the weather began to turn warmer, Adam began to beg Nikita to go riding with him. At every request, she was able to come up with some excuse to avoid the outing. However, on one particularly warm March day, she could think of no reason not to accompany Adam outside.

“Oh no!” Adam groaned, “That would be too slow. Even if you runned, you could never keep up with my Lightning. He’s the fastest horse in France.”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure he is,” Nikita told him inwardly cringing. “Perhaps, I can find someone else who can ride with you,” she asked, looking around. She had noticed a stable boy earlier, but when they had entered the stable, he had run off.

While one of the grooms saddled Lightning, Adam whined and pleaded with Nikita, telling her she was the only person he wanted to ride with. The groom looked exceptionally nervous and soon Nikita found out why. A few moments later, the stable boy returned with Michael in tow. Nikita correctly guessed that the staff had been threatened with severe repercussions if Adam ever went riding alone again.

Michael turned once again to Nikita, his eyes sparkling devilishly. Although she was wary of his intent, her heart beat faster at seeing that side of him once more.

“Well then Adam. I propose a compromise. I shall ride out with you so that you are supervised, and Nikita may ride with me, since she does not know how to ride,” Michael suggested with a slow smile.

Adam looked at Nikita as if she had grown a second head. “You don’t know how to ride?” His tone indicated that he thought there must be something seriously lacking in her character.

Michael signaled for one of the grooms to saddle Lucifer and then gallantly stepped aside to allow Nikita to precede him to the stall. Not wanting to appear fearful, Nikita held her head high and started for the huge stallion. As she passed, she heard Michael’s low rumble of laughter and restrained the urge to kick him.

The groom led the horse into the courtyard and Michael helped Nikita up onto its broad back, mounting up behind her. As he settled her onto his lap, Nikita’s fear vanished. She remembered the feelings of riding through the forest like this when Michael had come for her so many months ago. When Michael wrapped his strong arm around her waist again, Nikita gave in to her previous impulse and snuggled her head back against his shoulder. Turning her face toward his chin, she felt his rough stubble scrape lightly against her forehead. She felt, rather than heard, Michael say in a low voice, “Behave.” And then they were riding through the gates and out into the countryside.

Though still rather nervous, the feel of Michael’s arm holding onto her allowed Nikita to enjoy the ride. She laughed out loud to see the enjoyment shining on Adam’s face as he raced his father and won. Adam took the lead and led the trio to the lake where they dismounted and allowed the horses to rest and drink.

Adam ran ahead, picking up stones and pitching them into the lake. Michael and Nikita walked along the water’s edge in silence relishing the warm rays of the sun and the happiness of a young boy.

Michael stopped walking and turned to her. The look in his eyes almost broke her heart. “Must you go?” he asked, turning his gaze to the lake, unwilling to let his vulnerability show.

Nikita nodded, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. “I’ll miss Adam,” she said, the touching his face and turning him to face her, “and you.”

Michael pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his cheek against her head. He had no answer for her. He felt as if his soul had been tenderly warmed throughout the winter by her presence. Now he would be plunged back into his self-imposed hell once again.

Michael smiled through his misery and put out his arms. With total faith and devotion, Adam leapt from the tree, falling into his father’s strong hold. Nikita delighted in the wonderful trust of the child and wept inwardly at the prospects of leaving this place.

The weather continued to warm, much to the dismay of both Michael and Nikita. Michael had received a letter from his allies. It informed him that the British Duke with whom they had been warring had died, and his one son and heir had no wish to continue the conflict. Michael was pleased that he and his men would not have to return to a bloody and futile war, but wondered how his time would be spent once Nikita left Bourges. He also knew that many people around the castle had come to love her. How would Adam, and Walter feel when she left. Michael asked himself,

Nikita knew that she was already late in returning home. She was sure that Adrian had already begun to the prepare and till their garden, back-straining work that Nikita herself should be doing. So she sadly began to pack her belongings.

The next day, Nikita went in search of Adam to tell him her sad news. She found him in the stables with the grooms, running a brush along Lightning’s shiny coat.

“Adam…,” Nikita began, but stopped when a sob threatened to break free from her throat. She had underestimated how much she had come to love this sweet little boy. “And his father” a voice in her head told her.

“Oh my darling, you are too clever. You are right, I am very sad. You see, Adam. I must leave tomorrow and return to my Nana and my little house in the forest,” she told him smiling through the tears that now overflowed her lashes.

Her farewell to Walter had gone better that she expected. Although he seemed disappointed with her leaving, he bid her good luck and told her to visit the castle as often as she could.

The last farewell she had to make was the one Nikita dreaded most. She knew she had been postponing it all day so, after finishing a quiet supper in her chamber, Nikita asked the servants if they would prepare a bath for her. Before long, two large boys had brought in the huge wooden tub, and then a steady stream of maids began to bring buckets of heated water to fill it.

Soon Nikita was alone again. She slipped out of her gown, pinned her braids onto the top of her head, and sank up to her neck in the steamy water. Nikita didn’t know how long she had soaked there, but as the water began to cool, she quickly lathered her body with some rose soap that Nana made just for her and rinsed off the suds.

Drying and dressing quickly, Nikita resolved not to wait any longer. She had to make her goodbye’s to Michael. Lighting a candle, Nikita slipped quietly down the hallway to Michael’s chamber. Noticing the quiet in the hall, she assumed that she must have spent more time with her bath than she thought. “It must be very late,” she thought to herself.

Nikita poked her head through the door to find Michael sitting in a chair by the fire going over some sort of documents. He looked up as she entered.

The situation overwhelmed her and Nikita’s sorrow spilled from her. At the sound of her sobs, Michael turned and crossed to her, taking her into his arms. Nikita clung to him, feeling like her heart would break.

When she had quieted somewhat, Michael put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up till their eyes met. With the pad of his thumb, he smoothed away the tears still shimmering on her cheek. Slowly, he leaned in until their lips met in a tender, emotion-filled kiss. The passions and fears and desperation in both of them, however, soon turned the kiss into something almost fierce.

Michael’s tongue thrust repeated into Nikita’s mouth, mating and mingling with her own. His hands slid down her back and pulled her closer to him. Nikita could feel his desire through her thin nightgown. In an instant, Nikita knew what she wanted.

Michael needed no further urging. It was what he had wanted for weeks, months. He swept Nikita up into his arms and carried her to his bed. Settling her gently, he lay down beside her and embraced her once more.

“My sweet and lovely, Kita,” he whispered against her ear, kissing the lobe. Soon, he had worked his way to her lips again and their passion reignited.

Nikita could not believe the feel of the liquid fire that flowed through her veins. Nikita was not unaware of the process of lovemaking as she had assisted in many births and that was the natural way of things. However, she had never in all her days expected it to be like this. Her breasts and her nether parts were tingling with anticipation, as if Nikita’s body knew what her mind did not.

Michael leaned back, rocking up onto his knees. He needed to pause for a moment to compose himself. He took his time as he roughly pulled his shirt over his head, and pulled his long, black boots off, tossing them to the floor. When he looked back at Nikita, however; all the composure he had assembled in those few moments, vanished as he saw the passion-glazed look in her eyes. She reached out her arms to him and he willingly went to her, cradling his body over hers so that he did not crush her.

Michael gently pulled the ties the held her nightgown together and then slipped the garment down her body. He breathed in sharply at the pale beauty of her nakedness, and trailed a hand lightly down her body, skimming across one breast to her flat stomach. He felt in awe of her, as if he’d been offered a precious gift.

He leaned his mouth down to her breast capturing one hardened pink tip in his mouth and suckled gently. Nikita felt as if she would break into a thousand pieces. She whimpered in her throat , her hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

Michael’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Nikita could not even follow all of the sensations that were budding within her. Finally after a long, torturous, lovely while, she felt his finger slip within her and she thought she might perish with the pleasure of it.

Judging that Nikita was indeed ready for his entrance, Michael quickly stripped off his breeches and raised himself over her once more. He kissed her passionately on the lips and whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.” He was now to the point of no return and yet he still worried for her. It brought tears again to Nikita’s eyes.

Michael needed no more urging as he kissed her deeply and positioning himself carefully, plunged into her maidenhead with one swift thrust. Nikita gave a small cry, and Michael held very still within her allowing her body to accommodate his size. Meanwhile, he continued to kiss her lips, eyelids, neck; anywhere he could reach without moving himself within.

Soon the sharp pain faded to a dull and pleasurable ache, and Nikita began to move against him. Slowly, Michael withdrew part of the way and then thrust forward again causing Nikita to moan with desire.

Michael closed his eyes against the intense pressure that was building within him; sweat breaking out on his brow from his concentration in holding back. He knew that he would not hold out long against this exquisite angel beneath him.

As he continue to love her, Nikita too felt a strange tension growing stronger as well. As Michael kissed and stroked her body, the feeling continued to build until Nikita feared she would shatter if something did not end this torment.

Michael seemed to sense her impending release and reached between their joined bodies, stroking her to completion. Nikita crashed into bliss with Michael’s name on her lips, with Michael allowing his own release a moment later.

As they lay together in the sweet aftermath of their passion, Michael rolled onto his back pulling Nikita against his side. He grasped a corner of the coverlet and pulled it over their cooling bodies.

“Michael, that was the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me,” she whispered into the quiet night, kissing his chest where her head lay cradled.

Michael opened his eyes briefly, amazed that she thought HE had given HER a gift. He knew with a certainty that it was the reverse. It was she who had gifted him, with her love, with her healing skills, with her body.

“Oh when I deliver babies, I always asked the women about their … relations with their husbands. They always say such horrible things,” she answered, a bit confused.

Michael laughed out loud at her audacity and curiosity. “That’s because nobles and ladies who do not marry for love, mate only for the sake of producing children. There is no pleasure in it for a wife,” Michael told her.

“Yes,” Michael agreed, stilling her hand with his own. “And if you continue with that tactic, you shall find yourself bedded again before you are ready,” he warned.

When Michael awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that his body was exhausted. He chuckled to himself as to the cause of that. The second thing that occurred to him was that Nikita was gone. His humor vanished and he knew that she was not within the castle any longer. His light was gone.

Nikita had left the castle as soon as the gates had opened at dawn. She hurried home to Adrian, crying most of the way. As she entered the cottage, she saw her grandmother and burst into tears once again.

Adrian chuckled softly. “Not as much as they need you. But it is well. You may help me with the spring planting,” Adrian told her, patting Nikita’s cheek.

Nikita sniffed again and Adrian told her, “Now dry your eyes dear. We have much to accomplish in the coming weeks. Sit and break your fast with me. I want to hear about your adventure.”

The two women sat together at the small wooden table and ate as Nikita recounted her experiences at the castle at Bourges. She told her grandmother about Adam, Walter, and about Michael and his unhappy marriage to Elena, as well as the rumors associated with it.

Over the following weeks, Adrian and Nikita spent much of their time in the forest and in their garden. There were many herbs to plant and weeds to pull, but the result would be a trove of healing treasures. Nikita smiled little. She missed Michael and Adam terribly and dreamed of them often.

At the castle, Michael and Adam both wore unhappy countenances as well. They went riding together, but it reminded them of the outing with Nikita. Michael spoke only to those to whom it was required. He left much of the household management to Madeline. Bourges was at peace, so the surrounding villagers began to till their own fields and plant crops. Prosperity abounded in the castle and in the town, but Michael saw none of it. His nightmares had returned, coming with a vengeance each night and stories of Elena’s ghost abounded among the servants.

One night in early summer, Nikita had fallen into bed exhausted from her day’s labors. No sooner than she had drifted off to sleep, than her dreams took on the figure of Elena. She was wearing the same gold gown from the portrait Nikita had seen. She looked extremely sad and held out her hand to Nikita.

In her dream, Nikita asked the spirit to speak to her, but Elena only shook her head while a tear slipped down her cheek. Nikita again pleaded with her, but Elena simply motioned towards a castle in the distance. It was the castle at Bourges.

Nikita awoke with a start, wondering what this dream could mean. With thoughts and pieces of her dream sifting through her consciousness, Nikita again fell into a deep slumber.

This time when her dreams took shape, she saw a potent poison. She recognized it and immediately her mind concocted the remedy for it. Swirling mists soon obscured the poison and she found her dream-self standing in front of the castle at Bourges. She gasped, connecting the first image with this one.

As often happens in dreams, Nikita found herself in Michael’s chamber without knowing how she had gotten there. She saw a figure lying on the dark bed. She moved over to it and screamed. It was Michael and he was dead.

“Yes, I saw clearly in my dream which one it was. It is something that can be reversed,” Nikita rushed on. “I must leave immediately. With any luck, it hasn’t happened yet.”

Nikita stood and began to dress. She could see that the horizon was beginning to lighten. She calculated that if she hurried, she could be at the castle gates by the time they opened.

Michael awoke that morning feeling better than he had in weeks. Good news had come from all of his allies. The entire valley was experiencing peace and prosperity. Adam had come out of his depression since Nikita’s departure and had begun to be the happy boy that all remembered.

At the thought of Nikita, Michael’s happy mood evaporated. He dressed quickly and then strode down the stairs to break his fast and get on with his duties.

The maid brought his meal and poured him some wine. As she returned to the kitchen, she collided with a knight coming in and dropped the pitcher of wine. She dropped a fearful curtsy, apologizing to the knight who backhanded her across the cheek.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Sir Bauer apologized, and continued on his way glancing back to where Michael sat. As Michael finished his goblet of wine, Sir Bauer smiled and walked out into the courtyard.

Michael began his duties by going to the garrison to speak with Sir Walter. As he crossed the courtyard, he began to feel strange. He put his palm to his temple and shook his head to clear it. He looked across the courtyard to the stables and watched as they seemed to shift and sway before his eyes. He blinked his eyes twice and determined that he should perhaps go lie down. Michael struggled up the stairs to his room and collapsed unconscious on the bed.

Nikita had not made good time on her journey to Bourges, and now ran up the road as the castle came into view. She had to get to Michael. She carried the herbs she needed, but a feeling of dread stole over her and she feared she may be too late.

Nikita gave a cry of frustration and ran up to the main doors of the castle. As she pulled on one of the huge iron doors, it suddenly gave way as someone from the inside exited. Nikita fell backwards onto her bottom on the doorstep.

“Oh thank the gods, Sir Walter. You must help me find Michael immediately!! I fear he had been poisoned,” she cried out, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up.

Walter, trusting in her abilities, followed behind. Nikita ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time and flung open the door to Michael’s chamber.

She hurriedly crossed to him and saw that he was still alive. Without wasting a second, she grabbed a pitcher of water and dumped her packet of herbs into it. Walter already knew his part, and he hoisted Michael up so that she could pour the potion down his throat.

Walter watched in astonishment as Nikita put her lips to Michael’s and slowly released the healing medicine down his throat. He was even more astonished to see that it was working. Over and over again, Nikita repeated the process until the pitcher was empty. Then she collapsed back onto the bed.

“Look Sir Walter, he awakes from the poison,” Nikita said pointing and squirming out of his grasp. She crawled over to where Michael was stirring.

Michael’s eyes fluttered opened to the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. His head ached fiercely and Nikita looked as if she had been dragged through the forest by a team of horses, but Michael didn’t care. He threw his arms around her and dragged her down to him, kissing her possessively on the lips.

“I suspect that you keep having ‘unfortunate accidents’ in order to keep me here,” she teased, reacquainting her hands with his muscular body.

“Your religion does not prohibit lovemaking but will not allow you to wed a Catholic?” Michael asked, with a slightly teasing voice. “If this is the case, then mayhap we should not marry. I’ll simply keep you locked in my chamber forever.”

Nikita gave him a pinch. “You misunderstand. I worry only for YOUR religion. Would not you receive punishment or scorn for marrying outside of your faith?” Nikita asked him seriously.

“My darling Kita. I already have an heir in Adam and even if I did not, I would not allow the dictates of a priest to rule my happiness. Besides, kings and queens have married with different faiths, why cannot I?”

“Oh no. You will stay in bed this entire day. Your body must cleanse from the poison. And mine from the antidote.” This last part was said under her breath, but Michael heard anyway.

Nikita took in the stern look on his face and decided not to be evasive. “When I could not get you to drink the antidote, I gave it to you from my own lips,” she explained.

Michael looked at Nikita, astonished once more at the depths of her devotion to him. He must have her as his own, and soon. He said, “We ride to your grandmother’s tomorrow.” And Nikita nodded.

“Not a damn thing,” Walter said, and then apologized to Nikita for his vulgarity. “No one knows anything except the one who did this, and he’s not talking.”

Early the next morning, Michael and Nikita prepared to ride to Adrian’s home in the forest. Nikita had already ceased thinking of the small cottage as hers. Already in her mind, she saw herself living with Michael in the castle at Bourges. As his wife! His wife!!

Nikita could hardly believe that it was happening to her. It was not that she never planned to marry, she really had never given it much thought. She was content in her small home with Nana. But now, she knew she would not be content without Michael and Adam, and she sensed that Adrian would be waiting when they arrived.

After another lovely ride through the forest on Lucifer’s broad back, or really on Michael’s lap, Nikita seemed to be losing her fear of horses. Perhaps not all horses, but at least of riding with Michael. She was actually starting to enjoy it. It seemed to take no time at all when Michael pulled back on the reigns and the tiny cottage came into view.

Adrian shook her head and clucked her tongue. Nikita jumped in quickly to her own defense, “But Nana, you know I do not want to leave you here alone.”

“Silly child. Were you going to stay here forever. You are already twenty years of age. Much too old to be getting your first proposal of marriage,” Adrian scolded gently.

Michael cut in to their discussion, “If you would like, Madam, you would be welcome to come and stay with us in the castle. I would provide you a garden area so that you may continue growing the healing herbs you both use so skillfully.”

“This one has a velvet tongue,” Adrian said to Nikita, who blushed, thinking of the alternate meaning. The action did not escape her grandmother’s notice.

She turned to Michael and said, “That is very kind, good Sir, but I am content to remain. It is not so far that Nikita cannot visit often. I was born here and here I will die. Nikita will feel it if I need her.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “If Nikita is willing, you may have her as your wife.”

Though Nikita was still rather reluctant to leave her grandmother alone, she knew all that Adrian had spoken had been correct. Her heart leapt within her as Michael rose from his chair and knelt in front of her.

“May we have a small ceremony in the ways of my faith? Here in the forest. It would only be you and I and Nana.” Nikita thought for a moment and then added, “And perhaps Adam.”

The next few weeks flew by for Nikita. Michael had every seamstress in the town of Bourges making gowns for her, and she quickly traded in her homespun dresses for silks and brocades. Nikita felt like a fairy tale princess. She was also fitted for the wedding gown that she would wear in the castle chapel on their wedding day. Several women were busy sewing handmade lace, and the yards and yards of beautiful white satin.

Nikita did not think that she needed such finery, but as the wife of such a high ranking nobleman as Michael, it would be expected of her. She did convince Michael to allow her some everyday gowns, so that she would be able to easily perform her daily duties.

When she and Michael returned to the castle with their news, Nikita was welcomed warmly by Madeline and especially by Adam. The boy was thrilled to be having his dear friend as a mother, although he was not certain of the concept. Nikita assured him that although she would be taking on the new role of mother, they could still be the closest of friends.

Michael had ordered servants to Adrian’s cottage to pick up any possessions that Nikita wished brought to the castle. The servants and maids worked busily to clean and prepare the chamber adjoining Michael’s so that it was ready for Nikita on their wedding night.

Nikita also spent many hours with Madeline asking questions and learning about the management of such a large estate and all of the hundreds of people that depended on it. Madeline, though she never disliked such duties, was glad to have the younger woman take them over. They toured the kitchens, the falconry, the soldier’s garrison, the stables, and more, and Nikita learned the function of each and the names of the people who presided over each area.

The people in the castle also welcomed Nikita into their circles, but Nikita occasionally over heard a whispered word about her chances of survival as the new bride of Sir Michael. Nikita would giggle to herself when she heard these speculations, knowing that she was never in any danger from her husband to be.

After days and weeks of preparation, the day of the wedding finally arrived. Nikita’s new ladies in waiting, Gail and Elizabeth, knocked softly on her door just before dawn. Nikita was already awake.

Nikita smiled. She still was not used to having servants wait on her; and she certainly hadn’t gotten used to the new title she would be gaining today.

The two maids curtsied and left the room. A few minutes later, the large wooden tub was brought in and pails of steaming water made their way to Nikita’s chamber. When it was full, Nikita stripped off her nightdress and stepped into the soothing tub.

Gail and Elizabeth returned shortly thereafter carefully carrying Nikita’s gown. It was laid gently on the bed and the two women returned to assist Nikita in washing her hair. After her bath, Nikita sat patiently by the fire, while Gail combed through her long blonde hair, drying it with the heat from the fire. Though very long, Nikita’s hair was not extremely thick and it did not take a long time to dry.

Next, the two girls helped Nikita into a new, fine linen shift and helped her to fasten the laces on her stockings. Next to go over her head was thin, undergown over which Nikita would wear her metal corset. Since it was a special occasion, Nikita had agreed to ALL the trapping and fastenings, but she vowed never to wear one of these contraptions again.

Once they had slipped the white undergown on, Gail began to braid and fasten Nikita’s hair. Braiding it into two long ropes and coiling them onto the back of Nikita’s head, Gail then fastened a tiny pearl pin onto each intersection of the braids until the entire effect was dazzling to behold.

By now, it was beginning to get light. Elizabeth left the room and returned with a tray containing a small meal, which Nikita ate quickly, wearing a thick satin dressing gown while the bathing implements were removed from her room. “I do not want to eat too much,” she thought, eyeing the stiff metal corset that sat leaning against the bedframe.

After breaking her fast, and cleaning her teeth, Nikita was assisted into her corset and gown. The corset flattened her bosom as was the current fashion. The sleeves of her gown were full and slashed through to show the silky white undergown. The bodice dipped a narrow “V” into the front of her skirt which contained yards of heavy, white silk and had small pearls sewn onto each of the seams.

Gail and Elizabeth completed dressing her by placing the white satin slippers on her feet, and stitching her into her gown. Nikita chuckled to herself when she thought of Michael removing her from this outrageous costume.

As they were completing their task, a knock sounded at the door. Elizabeth opened it to find Madeline standing in the doorway holding a wooden case.

Madeline opened the box she was carrying to reveal a lovely necklace of multiple strands of pearls. Nikita gasped at the beauty of it. Madeline smiled, glad to see Nikita’s appreciation.

“Oh, it is beautiful,” Nikita sighed, as Elizabeth lifted the heirloom and fastened it around Nikita’s neck. The strands of pearls cascaded in successively longer strands from Nikita’s neck to past her bosom.

“It’s perfect,” Madeline declared as the churchbells in the town announced the hour of Sir Michael’s wedding. “Come my dear, we must be off to the church,” the older woman declared, taking Nikita’s arm in hers.

Madeline accompanied Nikita to the foyer of the chapel. Sir Walter stood waiting for Nikita, resplendent in his full armor, polished to a high shine. Nikita gifted Walter with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek.

Nikita looked to the front of the church where Michael stood, similarly attired in his dress armor. Birkoff stood to the side, to attend his master. Adam stood at Michael’s side. Nikita smiled to see the handsome father and son that would soon become hers.

Townspeople from Bourges, nobles and ladies from neighboring lands, and other well wishers filled the chapel to capacity. Nikita smiled widely as Walter accompanied her down the wide aisle and placed her hand on Michael’s outstretched arm. She looked up into Michael’s eyes and saw the devotion shining within them.

After the Latin ceremony, a huge banquet was held in the great hall of the castle. Course upon course of meat, fruit, and bread were brought from the kitchens. Hundreds of guests were wined and dined. Servants circulated among the poorer well wishers with tiny gifts of coins and delicacies of chocolate and fruit. All the people of Bourges celebrated the marriage of their lord.

After dining and receiving the kind wishes of all in attendance, Michael took Nikita’s hand and slipped quietly from the celebration which, due to the huge amounts of wine, was beginning to get raucous and bawdy.

He led her to her chamber on the second floor and shut the door. Although Michael had made love to her the night Nikita left the castle, since he had asked for her hand in marriage, he had kept a chaste distance from her. Michael took her hand, upon which now resided his ring, and kissed it gently.

“Your ladies-in-waiting will be here shortly. I’ll be waiting,” he told her, his eyes smoky with passion. And he slipped through the door which adjoined their two chambers.

A soft knock announced the arrival of Gail and Elizabeth, who now proceeded to undo all they had done that morning. When Nikita stood only in her shift and a silk robe, Gail freed her long hair and rebraided it into one long rope.

Michael put his hand to the side of her face and she leaned into his palm. He gently ran his thumb across her eyebrow, and Nikita closed her eyes at the feel of him.

“I cannot be slow and gentle with you this night. I have denied myself of your body for too long now. I am afraid that I may not be able to restrain my passion for you,” Michael told her apologetically.

Nikita laughed. “My gallant and noble knight. I too have been waiting these long weeks. Do not worry for my wishes. I have no need for a languid pace this eve,” Nikita answered him, her head lowered. She peered at him from beneath her lashes, a devilish grin on her lips.

Nikita’s new husband needed no further permission as he took command of her lips with fierce possession. Nikita gasped inwardly at the fires that ignited instantly deep within her, and she twined her arms about his neck pulling her body impossibly closer to his.

Michael groaned against her mouth, and without breaking their kiss, leaned down and raised her into his arms. As he reached the bed, Michael balanced Nikita with one arm as he tore the coverlet down with the other, placing her in the center of his huge bed. He quickly stripped off his shirt and breeches and stood before Nikita in all of his exceptional male glory.

Nikita quickly divested herself of her own garment and held out her arms to her soul mate. Michael immediately climbed onto the bed and into her arms, placing his full weight carefully over her. Though he still had reservations about hurting his new bride, when Nikita began to stroke his straining member, all thoughts of leisure departed from Michael’s mind.

He kissed her savagely again, alternately biting and licking her lips and neck. His hands plundered her breasts, squeezing, only to be replaced by his tongue. Nikita’s whimpers and moans fueled his frenzy. In a single coherent moment, Michael placed his hand against her womanhood to ensure that she was ready for him. The slick wetness that met his probing fingers allowed no doubt. He nudged her knees apart and thrust into her with abandon, goaded on by her reactions to the pleasure he was giving her.

Unable to sustain such a frantic pace for long, Michael groaned and arched against her, spilling his seed within her as her name gasped from his lips.

Nikita, slick with a sheen of perspiration, held her exhausted lover tightly until he recovered his breath. When Michael lifted his head to gaze at her several minutes later, she smiled glowingly at him.

“You shall certainly be accustomed to it by morning, my insatiable Nikita. Of that, I assure you,” he whispered into her ear, casually biting her earlobe.

Nikita smiled, glad that he hadn’t forgotten. “On the eve of the next full moon. I think that will occur in another week,” she told him, mentally calculating the moon’s cycle.

Michael nodded and took another bite of fruit. An idea suddenly forming in his mind. He looked at the tray of food and then at Nikita’s nude form and a sly smile slowly graced his lips. Much, much later and after calling for a bath, Nikita made her way stiffly downstairs. She wanted to be with Adam for at least a little while that day. She only hoped that he would NOT want to go horseback riding. Nikita inwardly groaned at the tenderness in her nether parts, then smiled remembering the cause.

Nikita spent the rest of the week, ensconcing herself in her duties as Michael’s wife. All of the servants liked Nikita due to her humble upbringing and her easy manner. She got along easily with the townspeople as well, and soon Michael was surprised how many villagers Nikita knew by name. When they would walk or go into the town, Nikita would call out to this person and that, inquiring about their health or their children. Each person had a kind word or a small token for Nikita, and Michael was astonished at the growing love of his people for his new wife.

The eve of the full moon arrived and Michael, Adam, and Nikita rode the distance to Adrian’s cottage. Michael and Adam waited while Adrian prepared Nikita for her “wedding”.

Once ready, Adrian placed Michael and Adam in their positions outside under the moon and then called for Nikita to exit. Michael turned to watch his bride emerge from the cottage that had so recently been her home.

Nikita was wearing a long, flowing white gown and her feet were bare. Her long blonde hair was entirely unbound and brushed to a high shine. Upon her head she wore a coronet of wildflowers.

Michael’s breath left him in a rush as he realized that he had never seen Nikita look lovelier. Michael’s mind was returned to reality as Adam tugged on his hand.

Nikita took Michael’s hand in her right and Adam’s in her left and turned to listen to Adrian chant the ancient marriage rites of their religion. The night creatures seemed to still as if they could sense that something holy was taking place. And something holy had taken place, a spirit had been joined with its mate.

Three glorious weeks followed Michael and Nikita’s two weddings, but soon reality intruded on the happy couple’s bliss. A messenger arrived with a missive for Michael. It was a summons from the King for all nobles to report at once to court.

Michael asked Nikita to accompany him, but she smiled and said she would be more comfortable at home with Adam and her people. Michael smiled. “Now they are her people,” he thought with a smile.

Although a baggage cart would make its way slowly to the capital, Michael planned to ride Lucifer in order to make his journey and return to his young wife quickly.

The night prior to his departure was spent in bittersweet but tender passion, and Michael left at dawn with a brief kiss to Nikita’s sleeping brow.

Nikita spent the first week of Michael’s absence directing a massive cleaning effort of the castle. Servants spent days airing the linens, scrubbing the flagstones, and polishing the silver. The weather had turned balmy and chambers were aired and fresh flowers decorated the hall.

One day as Nikita was working alone in one of the unused guest chambers, the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end. “Someone is in the room with me,” she thought. However, when she turned, she saw no one.

Nikita shrugged her shoulders and resumed her work. Several minutes later, she had the same feeling again accompanied by a cold chill which ran through her. This time when she turned, she caught a glimpse of her uninvited guest.

Near the far wall, looking exactly as she had in Nikita’s dream, was the spirit version of Michael’s first wife. The fear in Nikita bubbled up of its own accord, but the practical side of her quelled the dread before it could paralyze her.

When she had regained her faculty of speech, Nikita bid the ghost welcome. But, as though the spirit were uncertain, her figure wavered and flickered for a moment, before she winked out altogether.

Several days passed without event, until one night as Nikita was preparing for bed. She once again felt the cold chill prickle her skin. Understanding this time, she quickly scanned her chamber for the emergence of Elena’s spirit.

Encouraged by her success, Nikita continued on. “Yes, Adam is such a vivacious young boy. He is caring and loyal. His dark hair and eyes remind me of yours. His father and grandmother have raised him to be such a good boy.” Nikita knew she was rambling, but she somehow felt that it was imperative that she gain this spirit’s trust.

Elena’s spirit still seemed unsure however. She opened her mouth as if to speak and then suddenly changing her mind, disappeared from Nikita’s chamber.

“Could she be trying to warn me?” Nikita spoke out loud to herself. “What if Michael is in danger or injured?” she pondered, but almost immediately dismissed the thought. She knew that she would feel it or one of her dreams would warn her.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her, “What if she is trying to warn me? What if I am in danger?” The thought briefly crossed her mind about the rumors of Elena’s death and Michael, but Nikita guiltily put them out of her mind. She knew that Michael was not capable of killing his wife.

Over the next few days, Nikita continued to ponder on the appearance of Elena’s ghost. She found it strange that the ghost had chosen her, Nikita, the person who had replaced her as Michael’s wife. Nikita admitted to herself that she had been jealous of Elena when she had seen her portrait. Perhaps spirits were not capable of human emotions such as jealousy.

Nikita tried to ensure that she was alone at least some portion of every day in hopes that Elena would visit her again. Finally her diligence was rewarded and one night, Nikita awoke suddenly from sleep. The cold prickle washed over her and she called out to Elena.

“I have come to you because you are sensitive to nature and the vibrations of the earth. Others have seen me, but I have not found one such as you who I could trust to avenge my death.

Nikita nodded and Elena continued, “While I was there, my former fiancé, Lord Jurgen came to call on me. We had been terribly in love, you see, and I was crushed that my new husband did not love me. I spent much time with Jurgen, although I was faithful to Michael.

“When Michael came to retrieve us, it angered Jurgen who challenged Michael. When Michael refused, Jurgen became incensed. Michael, Adam, and I returned to Bourges and Jurgen followed. He came to me every night within my chamber, slipping past the guards. He wanted me to leave my husband and run away with him. Each night, I refused. In his anger, I could see that he was not the man I had loved.

“The next night, Jurgen put a sleeping draught in Michael’s wine and came to me once more. He told me what he had done and that we could safely slip away without awakening Michael. Again I refused and told him to leave me forever. He became enraged and drew his dagger from his belt. He threatened to go to Michael’s chamber and kill him as he slept. I could not allow this and threw myself against the door.

“As he tried to get past me, I fought him and we struggled. Jurgen turned his anger on me and in a flash of insanity he plunged his dagger into my heart.”

“Yes. I can see that you and Michael love each other with a devotion beyond any other. But my soul cannot rest until Michael is exonerated from guilt and Jurgen is punished. He not only received no punishment for this heinous crime, but it was he who cast blame and suspicion on Michael. You, Nikita, must help me to do this.”

“This is true, but there is proof. In my struggles with Jurgen, his signet ring was torn from his finger and fell to the floor. The ring had lodged in a crack in the floor, but in his haste, Jurgen could not free it. He assumed that no one would ever find it and moved a piece of furniture over the place where it lay. You must find that ring Nikita. If you can find it and free it, you will have the piece of evidence that will incriminate Jurgen in my death.”

Nikita marveled at the audacity of the man. How could he kill the woman he claimed to love? With a hundred thoughts spinning through her brain, Nikita looked once more at Elena.

“Yes, Jurgen and his minions still hate Michael and will try to harm him. You must be exceedingly careful. They may try to harm you as well. Be watchful and God be with you,” Elena told her and then disappeared.

Nikita flopped back onto her pillows, trying to absorb all the information she had been given. So many questions now invaded her thoughts and Elena was no longer there to answer them.

Resolving to begin her search in the morning, Nikita settled herself back into the pillows, breathed in Michael’s scent on her bedcovers, and fell into a fitful sleep.

It took Michael several long days to reach Paris, and then he spent weeks waiting for an audience with King Charles VII. Michael’s baggage arrived shortly after he did, and so he spent much time, dressed in finery, suffering the flirtations and machinations of the courtiers.

Unaware of the ghostly happenings at home, but missing it nonetheless, Michael endured the pawing and fainting and plotting of the vain women who made it their profession to inhabit the king’s domain.

One such courtier, a young woman named Lisette Fanning, took a distinct interest in Michael. Although married to an Earl almost 20 years her senior, Lisette made no secret of the number of lovers she had taken at court.

Michael found her shy and demure act tiresome, but endured her games nevertheless. One did not want to make enemies at court, and certainly not one with as much “influence” as the Lady Fanning.

Each day, Michael arrived at court hoping to gain his audience with the King, and each day, he returned to his chamber disappointed. After three weeks of patient endurance, Michael finally was granted his audience. He entered the King’s private audience chamber and bowed low.

“There is something I wish for you to do for me,” the King continued. “Since the end of the war, the countryside is once again plagued by roving bands of mercenaries and brigands. The people are afraid to travel and I am plagued with reports from my nobles about looting and plundering of the villages and towns.”

Michael nodded seriously, recognizing this to be a problem. Michael kept his own garrison of soldiers busy patrolling his lands, thus reducing the problem in the areas that Michael owned, but he knew that other townships and nobles did not have such resources.

The King continued, “I am going to proclaim an ordinance that no demobilization of the army shall occur. Instead I want the larger units to be banded into companies to create standing units of cavalry. These units shall protect the local peace, at local expense of course.”

“I want you, Sir Michael, to organize and train these units. You may add archers and a militia of foot soldiers as well. You have my authority to set up whatever else you may need to provide this service to the people.”

Michael bowed low again and finally spoke, “Your Highness, I shall do all that you have demanded. With such a standing militia, you shall surely rid France of all brigands and thieves.”

Michael bowed again as the King dismissed him. He gave a sigh of relief to finally have a task which would require action. He would be required to remain apart from his beautiful new wife for a much longer time; however, at least he would not be subject to the whims and intrigues of the Lady Fanning and the other courtiers.

As Michael returned to his chamber after dining in a crowded pub, his mind catalogued the tasks which would be required to create the units of militia the King had demanded. So immersed in his, that Michael had removed his boots, jacket, and shirt before he noticed the lady reclining, half-dressed on his bed.

Lisette adjusted herself on the bed to better display her ample wares. “Oh Michael,” she pouted. “You know I have asked you a thousand times to call me Lisette.” She shifted again allowing the strap of her negligee to fall daringly off one shoulder.

Lisette gracefully alighted from the bed and sidled over to where Michael stood. A petite woman, Lisette lifted her kohl lined eyes to Michael’s and batted them coquettishly. Her long wavy hair lay unbound about her shoulders.

“My darling, I have heard tell that you shall be leaving us soon. I did not want to miss even a moment that we could spend together,” she cooed, placing her hand on his muscular chest.

Removing her hand and returning it to her side, Michael finally spoke, “Lady Fanning, as I am sure you have already heard through your very widespread sources, I have recently remarried.”

Lisette laughed flirtatiously. “Oh darling, such things mean nothing. Especially to me.” She moved close to him and untied the stays on her gown, allowing the entire garment to fall to the floor. She wore nothing underneath except her expensive silk stockings held in place with pink satin ribbons.

For a moment, the desire flashed in Michael’s eyes. It had been weeks since he had taken his lovely Nikita and Michael was a man of great passion. Michael quickly extinguished flames, but not before Lisette had seen them ignite.

She moved closer to him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her hand moved lower to cup his manhood, which to Michael’s chagrin, was now standing stiff and ready.

Lisette laughed again, low in her throat. She could feel his size through his breeches, and licked her lips in anticipation, stroking him slowly with her palm.

Michael groaned and picked her up, carrying her to the bed. As he set her down gently, Lisette closed her eyes in expectation. A few moments later, she opened them in astonishment as she heard the chamber door slam closed.

Michael, boots in hand, paid a servant handsomely to find him an empty chamber and to fetch his trunks from his original. The next morning he left the castle on his King’s errand.

The morning after her encounter with Elena’s ghost, Nikita arose and went in search of Walter. She found him behind the stables “wrestling” with one of the serving maids.

Nikita laughed prettily. “Oh Walter, you know you can have any maid in the castle at a moments notice. You are such a ladies man,” she retorted, soothing his pride.

Unbeknownst to either of them, they were not alone. Sir Bauer stood around the corner originally to voyeuristically view Walter’s tryst with the maid. Now, he was surprised to hear Nikita’s earth-shattering pronouncement.

“Well, I suppose it will not hurt to have you hunting about. Mayhap it will keep you busy until Sir Michael returns. Then he can have the task of keeping an eye on you,” Walter said, telling her the location of Elena’s previous chamber.

Although she had wanted to start her search immediately, Nikita was immersed with household duties and questions that needed settling as soon as she entered the castle. It was not until the next morning that Nikita began her search.

The next morning, Nikita opened the creaky door to the little used room that had been Elena’s. She opened the shutters to let in some light and looked around the room. The furniture held a thick layer of dust as if the room hadn’t been disturbed in a long time. Nikita wondered if the maids were afraid to come into this room. She carried a lit branch of candles with her to give her additional light, and she set it on the wash table in front of a mirror.

Nikita sat down on the frame of the bed. All the bedding, mattress included, was gone. Nikita correctly guessed that they had burned everything if there had been much blood. She took her time examining the large pieces of furniture in the room, determining where to start her search.

Remembering Elena’s tale, Nikita determined that if the struggle occurred near the door, then the large bureau to the left of the door would be the logical starting place.

She took the candelabra and peered beneath the bureau. Nikita had to get down on her hands and knees on the dusty wooden floor, and the dust she stirred up made her sneeze. However, to her astonishment, she could see a large crack in the floor, near the wall. She had to the move the bureau.

Nikita got up from the floor and dusted herself off. Then she leaned against the heavy oak dresser and began to push. It didn’t budge an inch. After trying for several minutes with no luck whatsoever, Nikita finally gave up, gasping for breath.

Leaving her candles burning in the room, Nikita went in search of the first strong man she could find. She hoped it wouldn’t take more than one, since Jurgen had originally move the piece alone. The first person she saw was one of the kitchen lads, a big strapping you man named Flock.

“Flock, you are just the man I need. I desire to have a piece of furniture moved, and alas I cannot budge the silly thing. Would you be so kind as to assist me?” Nikita asked him sweetly.

“Oh don’t be silly. I have been working in there all morning. See,” Nikita opened the door and went into the room, much to the dismay of poor Flock.

When he had screwed up enough courage to peek into the room, he saw his Mistress again on her hands and knees peering under the chest. Slowly, Flock inched into the room. Glancing around nervously and assuring himself that there were no spirits lurking there, the boy put his muscular arms around the heavy dresser and heaved it away from the wall.

“Yes, for now. But stay within shouting distance. I may need something else moved,” Nikita told him, taking the branch of candles and returning to the floor.

As Nikita inspected the gap in the floor, she could see something shiny glinting in the candlelight. Her heart racing, Nikita glanced around the room for something she could use to fish the ring out with. Seeing nothing, she ran back to her own chamber and searched through the dresser she used for her herbs and implements.

Letting out a cry of success, Nikita pulled out a long metal curved hook. She used the hooks for drying herbs upside down, and knew that it would be the perfect instrument for fishing out her husband’s salvation.

Hurrying quickly back down the hall, Nikita once again entered the dead woman’s room and then worked the hook down into the crack. After several long minutes, she removed the hook with a silver ring dangling from its end.

Across the country, Michael’s thoughts were also drifting to his beautiful wife. He had been observing the training of the soldiers in Reims when he felt Nikita’s love and joy wash over him. His heart ached with longing for the blonde haired beauty that had melted his frozen heart. His encounter with Lisette Fanning had only underscored that for him.

Michael mentally calculated in his mind that number of weeks that it would take to finish his task for the King. “Too long,” he thought, shaking his head.

The one bright spot in his dismal future was that once he got closer to home, he could do all that was required of him and still return often to Bourges. However, he must still complete his duties in the north first. He resolved to write to both Nikita and Walter and let them know of his new obligations.

In the castle at Sens, Lord Jurgen had just finished his enlightening discussion with Sir Bauer. Jurgen paced the floor of his drawing room, cursing. Michael had continued to be a thorn in Jurgen’s side, and now his miserable wife would ruin everything if she found Jurgen’s ring.

Jurgen didn’t know if Nikita knew anything at all, but if she did, drastic measures needed to be undertaken. Jurgen sat down at his large desk to formulate his plan. Before Bauer left to return to Bourges, he would have his order as to what to do with the Lady Nikita. Jurgen smiled wickedly as his mind began to churn out the devious plots with which he would punish Michael.

When Bauer returned to Bourges a few days later, he was glad to see that Sir Michael had not yet returned to the castle. It would make his task much, much easier. Now he only need rid himself of Walter.

After hiding the ring among her herbs, Nikita washed and returned to her regular duties. She could hardly contain her excitement, but wanted Michael to be the first person she told about the ring.

Controlling her natural desire to share this good fortune, Nikita kept her secret within her. She spent much time with Adam playing in the meadows and by the lake. Nikita never rode a horse without Michael, but when they wanted to travel any great distance, Walter would arrange a cart and driver for her. Thus she could accompany Adam when he wanted to ride.

One fine day, six weeks after Michael’s departure from Bourges, Adam and Nikita went walking in the meadow. Adam was picking wildflowers for his grandmother and Nikita was searching for herbs and mushrooms.

Nikita’s attention was so intently focused on the ground, that she was surprised when she turned to find an armed man standing close behind her. She spun around searching for Adam, finally seeing him in a crumpled heap on the ground. Above him, stood one of Michael’s soldiers. Nikita did not recall the man’s name, but she had never sensed anything good about him.

Bauer sneered at her and motioned for his men to take her. Nikita, too afraid for Adam’s life, submitted meekly to their bonds. As they marched her past the spot where Adam lay, Nikita could see that he was unconscious but still breathing, and she herself breathed a sigh of relief. Calling out to Michael in her mind, Nikita pleaded with him to find her, then she climbed into the coach waiting on the road to Bourges.

As she bounced along the road, she wished that the curtains were not drawn down tight. Obviously her captors did not want a passerby to see her or they did not want her to see where they were going. From the sounds she could hear, Nikita could tell that they had passed through the town of Bourges and must now be traveling in the countryside. Eventually, the shock of the situation and gentle rocking of carriage combined to lull Nikita into slumber.

She awakened immediately when the carriage stopped and could see that it was quite dark outside. The door was jerked open and a man Nikita had never seen before, smiled nastily at her while extending his hand to help her from the carriage.

Silently, Nikita followed this man into the small castle that had obviously been their destination. The castle, really more of a manor house with battlements, was filthy and dark. Nikita mentally ticked off the things that needed changing or cleaning. Following him into what appeared to be a study or perhaps a library, Nikita cried out to Michael again in her mind. She also said a silent prayer for Adam’s safety.

The man motioned for her to sit and untied her hands. He settled himself behind the large mahogany desk and after studying her for a moment, began to speak.

“I see that Michael has made quite a catch. I did not expect you to be so, … stunning.” Jurgen continued. “I hope you do not mind the … abruptness … of your invitation to my home, my dear. But there are things that you may know that I must find out.”

Jurgen rose from behind his desk and moved to stand over her. He caressed her cheek, “My man tells me that you have found something that will prove Michael’s innocence in the death of the lovely Lady Elena. Tell me, my lady, what is this proof?”

Nikita drew back from his hand, loathing his touch, but said nothing. Jurgen tangled his fist in her hair, and pulled, forcing her to look up at him.

Nikita gasped at the pain, tears coming to the corners of her eyes. In a tiny voice, she answered, “I know not what you are speaking of, my lord. I merely assumed in my curiosity that IF there were to be any evidence it would be found in the lady’s bedchamber where the horrible deed occurred.”

Jurgen did not believe her story, but without proof of her finding the ring, he could not give away the secret either. In frustration, he released her, tossing her head forward.

Nikita was astonished. She had expected to find herself in a dungeon as she had first encountered at Bourges. But now she was being treated as an honored guest. The woman motioned to her and Nikita followed, still unable to comprehend the situation. She could only pray that Adam would awaken and alert Walter as to her situation.

Remaining in the study, Jurgen continued to curse aloud. He now had Michael’s wife, but he did not know any more than what that fool Bauer had told him. If he was wrong, and Nikita did not know anything about the ring, then Michael would kill him. He had to tread lightly, treating her as a highly deserving guest, so that he could claim innocence if the situation turned on him.

When Adam awoke in the meadow, he sat up groggily rubbing his head. He tried to stand, but only made it to his knees before retching. After emptying his stomach, Adam looked around for Nikita. He did not see her, but he assumed that the bad man who hit him must have taken her.

Dizzy, but feeling better, Adam made his way slowly back to the castle. He knew that he must tell someone about Nikita. He wanted her back and he wanted his father back. Along the way, the little boy began to cry, but then remembering his father’s council prior to leaving, Adam determined that he needed to be the Lord of the castle. He picked up his pace and did not stop until he reached his grandmother’s side.

“Did you see anything else?” Walter asked, frustrated. He had already assumed that the traitor had been one of Michael’s men. The same one who tried to poison Michael some months ago.

“Only the man who hit me. I did not mean to run so far from Nikita. I should have protected her, Sir Walter,” the boy gasped and then broke into tears again.

“Now, now. Do not cry, son. We shall send a message to your father and he will return home and together we will decide how to get our Nikita back.”

It was late in the evening when Walter reigned in his horse at Nikita’s grandmother’s home. Pounding on the door, Walter prayed that the old woman would be at home.

Adrian shook her head and said, “My dreams show me a burgundy coach led by black horses. She is held in a room all of blue. She is very frightened, but does not show it to her captors. She pleads in her mind for Michael. She worries for Adam. This is all they show to me.”

Adrian stood and opened a cupboard removing a bag of herbs. She handed it to Walter. Then she sorted through some crockery for some other healing plants and handed them also to him.

“The first is to be placed in water and smoothed onto the boy’s head. It will help with the healing of his wound. The second can be stirred into his food or drink. It will help with dizziness and aid in his sleep,” she instructed.

Adrian nodded and saw him out. After Walter had faded into the darkening evening, Adrian whispered to herself, “May the gods protect you my Nikita.” And she closed the door.

Michael and Lucifer were like one being as they flew over roads and fields on their return trip to Bourges. He did not know what had happened, only that Nikita’s voice continued to plead with him in his mind. Fearing the worst, he had left everything with a lieutenant in Riems and spurred Lucifer on for home.

Stripping off his gloves and trailing mud into the great hall, a very angry and worried Michael strode into his castle bellowing for Walter. Almost immediately, Walter, Madeline and Adam all appeared. Each looked tired, fearful and grief-stricken.

“Nikita has been taken, my Lord. The men who took her, bashed Adam on the skull and took Nikita. Adam remembers nothing other than that the knight that struck him was one of yours. I went to Adrian and she has seen a burgundy coach in her visions. She says that Nikita is frightened but safe and being held in a room of blue.” Walter made his report quickly and concisely.

Walter thought about Michael’s question and said, “Come to think of it, she did ask me where Elena’s room was. Said that she had some proof of your innocence or something like that.”

“No, I am better. Nikita’s nana gave Walter some medicine to put on my head and some other medicine to drink and it made me all better.” Adam rambled.

Michael nodded. “And if Nikita claimed to have some proof of my innocence, then the one person who would not want this evidence to come to light would be the murderer himself.”

“Michael, wait!” Madeline called. “If it is Lord Jurgen, then he shall have to be careful. He cannot harm Nikita. He will have to send some word to you. If it is not Jurgen, then if you attack, it will give him more support against you. Perhaps it would be wise to wait here for his message. You and Walter can better plan your attack from Bourges and then when it is confirmed, you will be ready.”

Michael nodded, agreeing to her counsel. He called out to one of the maids to have a bath prepared, and then, with Adam trailing, made his way wearily up the stairs.

Later when Michael had bathed and eaten, he and Walter were encamped in the library pouring over maps and plans of attack. After arguing and discussing strategy for hours, they had finally arrived at a suitable course of action.

“The filthy dog would want nothing more than to prove to me how powerful he is,” Michael stated. “He will want me to come begging for my wife back. And that is what we shall give him. I shall ride into Sens, alone and unarmed. You and your men must be in place at least 2 days before I am scheduled to arrive. Once I am within the castle, the guards will be diligent and you will not be able to move into place at that time.”

Walter continued, “While you grovel and toady to the bastard, we will wait another 2 days for them to let down their vigilance. They will incorrectly assume that you are indeed alone. Once this happens, and with God’s luck, it will happen sooner than later, my men and I will move in on the castle. I have been working on some devices that will help us in getting through locks and windows and such.” Walter had a twinkle in his eye at the opportunity to use his new creations.

“The one variable will be the mannerism of Nikita. It would help us stall for time if we could let her know of our plan. In fact, Jurgen would be more careless if he thought that he could turn my wife against me as he could not with Elena,” Michael pondered out loud.

“Do not underestimate her, my friend. How many times have we been amazed at her abilities at knowing something before or as it happens. She knew about Adam’s illness and your poisoning. You must reach out to her and let her know your plan. She will feel it,” Walter counseled.

In her blue prison cell in Jurgen’s castle, Nikita waited. Her every wish was granted from food to books to read, although this brought disapproving glances from the staff. Nikita presumed that they did not believe that a woman should read. She was also allowed brief, accompanied, walks about the grounds when the weather was accommodating. However, no matter the luxuries, she wanted to be home with her family and friends.

In the past few days, Nikita had awakened queasy and unable to stomach her breakfast. Her breasts were also tender, signaling to her what her ailment was. Unless she was mistaken, Nikita assumed that she was now carrying Michael’s child. Her heart leapt for joy at having such a wonderful part of her beloved growing within her, but she feared what her captor would do if her were to learn of her condition.

Each time Jurgen questioned her about the proof, she made the same claims of innocence. Some times her was harsh with her, although most times, he left her alone. She assumed that he did not know how to proceed. She wished that he would at least let someone know that she was here.

One morning she awoke with a dream fresh in her mind. In it, she saw Michael sitting across the table from her as she fawned on Jurgen. She leaned close to him and ran her fingers along his jaw. The pained look on Michael’s face nearly broke her heart, but she could see in his eyes that he approved of what she was doing. Nikita was confused at to what this dream could mean.

Then her dream had changed and she saw Walter and many soldiers hiding in the forest, waiting. Waiting through two nights and then two more nights.

As Nikita lay in her bed pondering this new dream, she heard Michael’s voice in her mind. “You must buy us time, my love. Please feel this. It will not be real. Please feel this.”

Nikita smiled at Michael’s unsure communication. Did he not know that she always felt him? “Silly man,” she thought. As she contemplated his words, the pieces of her dream fell into place.

Jurgen sat in his study composing his message to Michael. He knew it needed to be carefully worded so as not to cast any blame on himself. He looked up as one of the servants knocked tentatively on the door.

Before Jurgen could answer, Nikita bustled into the room. Jurgen stifled a gasp of surprise and desire. This was not the woman who had been brought here two weeks ago. No, indeed. This Nikita looked glorious and enchanting in a gown of royal blue to match her eyes. The fashionably low cut neckline exposed more than a decent amount of décolletage and a sapphire necklace dangled tantalizingly above her pert breasts.

Nikita had taken much care with her appearance, from her exquisitely coiffed hair to her slippered feet. Now she brazenly entered Jurgen’s lair in a cloud of expensive perfume, knowing that hers and her unborn child’s lives depended on her performance.

“My Lord, this silly man does not give me any credit. I do not simply wish an audience with Your Eminence, I wish to sit and bask in your powerful presence,” she said regally, curtsying low in front of him offering a good glimpse of cleavage.

“My Lord, over the past weeks I have seen the luxury a great man such as yourself can offer a lady such as I. I have enjoyed the food and wine and all the trappings. My lout of a husband is too concerned with his people and his castle and his battles to offer such finery to me,” Nikita said, taking his arm and leaning in close.

“Oh, yes. You have not gifted me with your presence often, but I can see what a handsome and commanding man you are. If you had not frightened me so when I was first brought here, I would have seen this much sooner,” Nikita gushed, pouting prettily.

“I must beg your forgiveness for that unfortunate circumstance, my Lady. I can see that I was mistaken,” Jurgen told her with another healthy glance at her bustline. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you?” he asked her, offering her a cushioned chair.

“Well, as much as it pains me to think on him again, I suppose that you should inform Michael,” she put as much distaste on Michael’s name as she could muster, “that I am here and here I wish to stay.” Nikita prayed that he would fall for her ploy.

“Why of course. Anything you wish,” Jurgen said, happy to have the answer to his dilemma. He could not have scripted a better revenge on his mortal enemy. Jurgen was fairly bursting with glee over this turn of events. He had thought only to protect himself from accusations of murder and now fate was smiling on him through the visage of this luscious angel that sat pouting before him.

Another thought occurred to him and he said, “My darling, why do you not write the letter to that wretch you call a husband. Then he shall know that it is no device of mine. You must know that we are not on good terms, and he may have the mistaken impression that you are here against your will.”

“Oh my! I had not thought of that. How clever you are! He will have no choice but to leave us alone if he sees the words in my own hand,” Nikita beamed at him, putting her hand on his arm. “I would never be so brilliant as to think of such things. Do you not see how my being here is so fortunate?”

“Yes, my dear. I will lavish you with attention and jewels and gowns…. Everything you could wish for, and more…” he trailed off suggestively, trailing his fingers along her arm.

Nikita bowed her head coquettishly and looked up at him through her lashes. “Yes, My Lord. I hope for so much more,” she vaguely promised with a slow smile.

Jurgen’s breath caught at the vision that sat so achingly close before him. His arousal began to make itself painfully known and he decided to make his invitation more plain. He lifted her arm until she stood in front of him.

“My lovely Nikita, will you accompany me upstairs and I shall begin to educate you in the ‘more’ you so eagerly desire,” he asked, placing his hand on her back, pressing her against his chest.

Nikita put a restraining hand on his chest, and then fearing this would give the wrong impression, let her hand trail upwards to his jaw. She had to slow things down.

She bowed her head and stifled a counterfeit sob. “Oh, my darling Jurgen. I fear that in ‘that’ way, I may be scarred for life. My husband has been so utterly brutal with me, that I fear the act of coupling between a man and woman.” If Nikita had not been in such a dire situation, she would have laughed aloud a the lies she was telling.

She continued, as a false tear streaked down her cheek, “I must ask you to go ever so slowly with me, else I shall not be able to enjoy any of the wonderful ecstasies you could doubtless reveal to me.”

“Anything you wish, my exquisite flower. A prize such as you is certainly worth waiting for,” he told her, leading her to the desk and seating her in his chair.

For the past weeks, I have been the treasured guest of his honorable, Lord Jurgen of Sens. In His Lordship’s care, I have realized the luxury and leisure that I can enjoy. Please do not wonder for my safety, as I could not be any safer and happier than I have been in the past weeks.

“She has made this so easy for us, my friend,” Michael laughed, setting the letter down. “You must leave immediately for Sens so that I may go to her two days hence.”

Two days later, Michael began his journey to Sens. Walter had left the very day Jurgen’s message had arrived and Michael had given him the required advance time. Now, Michael rode quickly north to reclaim his bride.

Upon his arrival at Jurgen’s estates, Michael willingly gave up his weapons to the guards as had been prearranged. He knew that Walter and the soldiers were already comfortably encamped in the forests of Sens, awaiting the appropriate time for attack.

A servant ushered Michael into the study where he waited for more than an hour for his “host” to make himself known. Although fuming inside at the insult, Michael made no outward show of hostility or impatience. His face was a blank mask revealing nothing. He knew that the time would come when he would have to play the wronged husband, wounded to the quick by Nikita’s infidelity. The time would also come, he thought wryly, for Jurgen to pay for his sins; and it would be much sooner than his “final judgement”.

“Nikita has informed me that she is not Catholic and therefore the vows made before the priest mean nothing to her. Let me give you some advice, my friend. Go back to Bourges and forget about her. This time you have failed.”

“I am not leaving until I see my wife,” Michael said through clenched teeth, noting with some satisfaction the wording which Nikita had used when speaking of vows. She had not said anything about the vows they had made in the forest.

“I shall have a servant prepare a room for you, since you must be so tired from your journey,” Jurgen told Michael graciously, all the while wondering how long he could keep his enemy here to witness the abject failure of his task.

Michael was shown to his room, a hideous pea green, and wondered what they called it. He assumed it was a calculated move on Jurgen’s part to make him nauseous. A short while later, his two bags were brought up from the hall and he was offered some refreshment.

Knowing that Jurgen would gain more satisfaction from seeing him alive and suffering, Michael ate the fruit and bread that was offered with no thought of poison. Then he laid down on the massive bed to rest for his dinner ordeal.

On the other side of the castle, in the Blue Room, Nikita paced. She had felt Michael’s presence the moment he had arrived and hoped she would be able to accomplish her horrible task. Although she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, she would have to scorn him and treat him with disdain throughout the next two days if she had interpreted her dream correctly. She only hoped she could do it.

At the appointed hour, servants arrived to bathe and dress her. She chose another expensive gown and jewels to match, coiling her braids on the crown of her head.

Upon hearing her summons, Jurgen made sure that Michael would be called to dinner prior to their entrance so that he could witness his failure to keep his wife. Jurgen laughed to himself wickedly all the way to Nikita’s chamber, where he entered and shut the door behind him.

“Yes, if I must. He will not leave us alone until he is satisfied that I truly belong to you,” she said in a long-suffering tone. “You must stay by my side throughout dinner. I do not wish to be alone with him even a single moment,” she pleaded, grasping his hands tightly.

“Do not worry your pretty head for even the tiniest minute, my dove. I shall not let him harm you in any possible way,” Jurgen said, putting a comforting arm about her shoulders.

“Certainly, my dearest,” he said, ushering her to the door. Nikita thought he would be rubbing his hands together gleefully if he could. However, he managed to restrain himself and kept a hand on the small of her back as he escorted her downstairs.

Nikita drew a deep breath as they approached the dining room. Jurgen offered his arm and she took it, pasting a false smile on her face. Together they made their entrance. Michael stood upon seeing her, thinking he had never seen anything so lovely in his entire life. Until that moment, he had not been completely sure that she was indeed safe. Instead of relief, however, he portrayed a look of anger hoping that she would see through his act as well.

Michael was rewarded by a look of utter disdain from his wife. While Jurgen watched for Michael’s reaction, Nikita quickly gifted Michael with reassuring and loving glance. Apparently Michael’s reaction had satisfied Jurgen, and he pulled out Nikita’s chair for her.

The first course arrived and still no one had spoken. Nikita fawned upon Jurgen, feeding him bits of fruit from her fingers and touching him at every opportunity. Michael did not need much pretense to act jealous. He was ready to kill Jurgen that very instant.

Eventually, Jurgen began a polite line of conversation consisting of news from court, local gossip and the weather. Nikita laughed at his jokes and commented his wit and intelligence, not once even glancing in Michael’s direction.

Michael in return gave all the appropriate responses, but his eyes never left his wife. By the time the dessert was served, Nikita turned to Jurgen and asked to be excused.

“I am dreadfully sorry, my lord. But the company this evening has taxed me so, that I shall go directly to bed upon reaching my room,” she said, shooting Michael a scathing look.

Nikita granted him a beautiful smile and left the room. Jurgen and Michael continued the pretense of conversation, though speaking of more masculine topics, for several more hours. Finally, Michael excused himself claiming exhaustion from his journey.

“Certainly. I am sure that this entire evening must have been terribly difficult for you. Shall I have your horse ready for you in the morning?” Jurgen asked.

When Jurgen poked his head into her room, Nikita pretended to be asleep. She had heard rumors among the staff and hoped that Jurgen would not change his routine to bed one of the serving maids that night. After waiting for another half hour to be sure, Nikita slipped quietly from her room. She tiptoed to the room she knew was Jurgen’s and listened silently at the door. Hearing the sounds of lovemaking from the couple within, Nikita was reassured, and crept silently to the other wing of the castle.

Going by feeling alone, Nikita made slow progress. Finally stopping in front of one of the chambers, she knocked softly. The door was opened by Michael, who had not yet prepared for bed. He swept her quickly inside, looking both ways down the hall to ensure they were not seen.

Nikita threw herself into Michael’s arms as she had wanted these many weeks. Michael held her to him and showered her with kisses, raining them on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and lips.

He continued, “Walter and a contingent of my knights wait in the forests surrounding this castle. They tarry only until the guards on the wall relax their diligence. They must believe that I am truly alone. You, my darling Nikita, must continue to play the deceitful wife until the attack begins. Then do not leave my side. If we are separated, find Walter and he will get you to safety. With God’s blessing, we shall all be home by the end of the week.”

“Please hurry Michael. I know not how much longer I can keep up this charade. The man is positively slobbering over me,” Nikita pleaded, pressing herself against him once more.

Michael groaned, moving until Nikita’s back was flush against the wall. Goaded on by her impatient sounds of longing, he freed his straining arousal from his breeches and, raising one of her knees to the level of his hip, thrust quickly into her.

Nikita tossed her head back, relishing the feel of him within her after such a long absence. Struggling to remain quiet, Nikita fisted her hands in the fabric of Michael’s shirt and dropped her forehead to his shoulder.

Michael continued to move ever faster within her, his mouth never leaving her neck or her lips. Quickly, both lovers found their fulfillment, their cries of ecstasy swallowed by the other.

After another passionate kiss full of future promise, Nikita returned to her room just as quietly as she had departed. As she lay down on her bed, she realized that she had failed to inform Michael of her condition and his impending second child. She imagined his delight when she told him the wonderful news. Falling into a contented, sated sleep, Nikita’s thoughts focused entirely on her mate and not the false role she would play on the morrow.

The following day passed slowly for both Michael and Nikita. Jurgen gave Michael and Nikita a tour of the grounds, keeping a hand on Nikita at all times. Nikita thought her face would crack from all of the false smiles and laughs she was showering on her captor. She only hoped that Jurgen’s guards would hurry and relax so that Walter could come to help Michael save her. Nikita began to feel like her skin would never be clean after the number of times Jurgen touched or ogled her.

Michael, while seeming angry and pouting during the tour, was actually cataloguing the defenses of Jurgen’s castle in detail. He noted happily that the guards on the battlements watched the trio within the courtyard rather than the happenings outside. Michael had to stifle a smile. Walter would already be noticing the same thing and preparing to attack that evening. Michael planned to give the signal from his chamber window as he dressed for dinner. Walter had given him a strange powder within a covering that burned red and bright once lit. His men would be able to see it from their positions in the forest.

Jurgen was the only truly happy person on the tour. He relished Nikita’s hanging on his every word, and loved to show off his home. He kept up a continuous monologue of the merits of Sens and how happy Nikita would be in her new home. Every so often, he would glance at a sullen Michael and continue his rambling gleefully.

By the time they separated to dress for dinner, Nikita thought she would be ill from all of Jurgen’s compliments and praises. She gladly escaped to her chamber for a bath, trying to scrub all traces of Jurgen’s touch from her skin.

Within the “green” room, Michael made his signal to his men. He knew that as soon as darkness fell on the castle, the men would attack. From what Michael had seen, the soldiers that guarded Jurgen’s castle were not well trained and would be no match for his own men. Pleased at the speed at which the plan was progressing, Michael too prepared for dinner.

Within the forest, Walter’s lookouts reported back the appearance of the signal flare. The men, weary of waiting, prepared themselves for the coming battle. Knives and swords were readied, ropes were coiled, grappling hooks were prepared.

The small army of men began to move silently through the forest until they were concealed just within its boundaries. There they waited the last hours until all lights had been extinguished in the castle.

Nikita did her part to facilitate an early end to the meal by claiming a dizzy spell and retired to her room. Michael angrily informed Jurgen that he would be leaving on the morrow and went to his own chamber to ready himself. Jurgen found himself a voluptuous kitchen maid and also retired.

One by one all the lights within winked out, and stealthily, Walter’s band moved forward in the darkness. The first rope and hook was thrown and caught directly above Michael’s window. A soldier scurried up the rope in the darkness and rapped lightly on the glass.

Michael opened the window to allow him entrance, and retrieved his sword from the soldier. All along the battlements, with no sound at all, ropes were thrown and men appeared over the walls. Most of Jurgen’s men died silently, their throats cut or necks broken, and soon, Michael’s men had control of the manor. Downstairs, Walter worked feverishly with his gadgets to pick the locks found on the gates and when finished, allowed entrance to the main force of men.

Michael made his way to Nikita’s room, much the same way as she had done the previous night, by feel. Once there, he rapped on the door which was quickly thrown open. Nikita stood inside the room in her own clothing, prepared to leave.

“Michael, I must tell you! I found Jurgen’s ring in Elena’s chamber!” Nikita whispered excitedly. “Jurgen killed her in a jealous rage.”

Michael moved closer to her. “I am sorry darling, but I did not hear you. I thought you said that Elena told you,” he said, raising her face to his.

“I did. Her spirit appeared to me and told me all that happened that night. Jurgen had drugged you with a sleeping draught and was going to kill you and she stopped him. He stabbed her in jealousy but in her struggles his ring rolled into a space on the floor. I found it. It is hidden in my herbs at home,” she told him quickly.

Michael’s mind was reeling. The ghost tales were true? he thought. Shaking his head, clearing away the thoughts of his late wife, Michael began to see red. His “counterfeit” anger of the last two days became real as he contemplated on all Jurgen had done. Michael’s revenge was set in motion at the moment.

Michael and Nikita raced down the stairs, greeted with the sound of clanging swords. Some of Jurgen’s soldiers had not been killed and had raised the alarm, rousing the rest of the men sleeping in the garrison. Now Michael’s men engaged the enemy soldiers and a fierce battle raged in the courtyard.

Michael knew that he must get Nikita out of the castle as quickly as possible now that their escape was no longer secret. He looked about the fighting soldiers and spotted Walter’s grey head in the crowd. After Walter had successfully dispatched his opponent to hell, Michael called out to him.

“Walter, I need you to take Nikita and get her to safety. I want her out of the castle at the soonest possible moment. Take her into the forest and hide until I come for her.” Michael commanded tersely, his blood boiling.

As Michael turned to go, Nikita grabbed his arm. “Please be careful, my love. I could not live without you,” she told him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Walter prompted Nikita into the stables where he saddled the nearest mount and soon, the two were riding through the gates into the night, with Nikita praying for the father of her unborn child.

As Michael strode back through the courtyard, he could see that his men were making short work of Jurgen’s sleepy, ill-trained soldiers. His eyes scanned the bodies on the ground and he counted only one of his own men that had fallen.

As he reached the main doors, his thoughts returned to his murderous intent. Jurgen had killed Elena and cast the blame on Michael. Jurgen had kidnapped Nikita, his love, and who knows what could have happened to her. Michael moved automatically, moving up the stairs, listening for any unusual sounds. His mind was set on vengeance. He knew he must find Jurgen before the coward had a chance to flee.

The first door Michael kicked open was the one to the master chamber. It was a gaudy display of conspicuous consumption. The chamber was done all in gold with gilt furniture and shimmering draperies. Michael felt as if he had walked into a Paris whorehouse. The room, however, was empty.

Michael cursed and moved swiftly down the hall to the room that had been Nikita’s. This time, when the door flew open, Michael was rewarded to see a started Jurgen, dressed only in breeches that had been hastily thrown on. It appeared as if he had rushed down to this room to “save” his new love only to find her missing.

“You will not succeed in taking her from me. She loves me and hates you. She will return to me,” Jurgen told him, regaining some of his composure.

“Was she returning to you the night you killed her?” he said in his deadly quiet voice. “It seems that my women do not seem to be interested in you.”

Jurgen howled in fury and leapt at Michael, hands curled into claws. Michael side stepped the attack easily, and, with a kick of his boot, sent Jurgen sprawling to the floor.

Realizing his position, Jurgen scrambled down the hall to his chamber and quickly pulled on his boots, retrieving a sword from the wall. Michael walked slowly, menacingly down the passageway as Jurgen prepared himself.

Although not a courageous man, Jurgen was a skilled fencer, and Michael found himself actually enjoying the battle. He had assumed that he would have to fight to the lowest point of his abilities in order to prolong the duel, but now he happily realized that the kill would take some strategy and skill.

The sword play continued as each man alternately advanced and retreated, trying to find a weakness in the other. Where one would attack, the other would counter. Minute upon minute passed without a change in the course of the duel. In an attempt to end the fight, a less physically fit and gasping Jurgen, made a desperate lunge. Michael parried it easily, and threw Jurgen back.

“Bauer,” Michael said menacingly, knowing who his traitor was at last. Bauer, realizing that his identity was no longer secret, turned and ran quickly out of the castle doors.

As Jurgen sank disbelieving to the floor, Michael told him quietly, “That is for Elena.” Then he turned and left the dying murderer in his own blood.

Michael took the stairs two and three at a time in an attempt to find and slay the traitorous Bauer, but when he reached the courtyard, the knight had vanished. All around stood Michael’s soldiers, some injured, waiting for their lord to direct them.

A great cheer went up in the yard, as the men began to rush into the castle to haul off whatever loot they could find. Frightened servants who had not already left, began to rush out of the buildings and through the gates. They would have a long walk into the township of Sens this night.

On his way out of the courtyard, Michael instructed one of the his men to collect all the horses and livestock to be returned to Bourges. The man nodded and Michael rode through the gates, without a backward glance. He had a more pleasant reunion to make now.

Michael reached the forest as the flames began to be visible from the burning castle. He easily located Nikita and Walter by following the sounds of her pleading. He could hear her trying to charm Walter into returning her to the castle to save her husband. Michael chuckled inside at his wife’s fierce courage.

Their lips met in a crushing kiss of relief and passion, both of them pulling back eventually to draw a breath. Walter had courteously turned away during this display of love between his two friends, and Michael took Nikita’s hand and led her to Lucifer’s side.

As they passed, a tall woman with sandy blonde hair called out to them, “Begging your pardon Sire, Lady. But I have lost everything and have no relations to go to. Would there be a place for me within your household?”

“You may come to our home in Bourges. I will find a place for you among my own staff. You will find that His Lordship, Sir Michael is a just master, unlike Lord Jurgen,” Nikita told her.

Belinda dropped a curtsy to Nikita and Michael and then turned to do the same for Walter. But as she looked up from her show of obeisance, her eyes met Walter’s. Belinda felt her face heat up and she was glad that it was dark. The road was lit only by the moon and the torches carried by some of the servants.

“Sir Walter, perhaps you could offer Belinda a ride into Gien until we could arrange for a wagon? It would be a shame for her to have to walk all the way to Bourges,” Nikita said, smiling.

Walter turned to Nikita. As his eyes left Belinda, he seemed to regain his power of speech. “Why yes, your Ladyship. If that is what you wish,” he replied, returning his gaze to the woman standing on the road.

As Walter assisted her to mount the huge war stallion, Belinda gasped at his touch. She knew that this knight was not a young man, but neither was she a young woman any more either. Belinda sighed contentedly as she felt Walter’s strong chest behind her back as he regained his saddle.

Nikita continued to grin and Michael shook his head at her matchmaking attempts, but as he gave Lucifer his head and continued down the road, even Michael had to chuckle at the look on Walter’s face. Michael was sure that he himself had never looked that way.

The party reached the Goatshead Inn in Gien just before dawn and decided to stop and rest for day. Since they had been riding through the night, the four travelers collapsed into their respective rooms and slept until after the noon day meal.

The next day, Walter insisted that there was no need to hire a wagon and that Belinda could continue to ride with him. When Michael and Nikita gave each other knowing smiles and then grinned at him, Walter scowled at them.

They made good time returning to Bourges and rode up to the gates shortly after nightfall. The gates were opened and a great cry of celebration went up, rejoicing in Nikita’s safe return. The weary party of travelers made their way slowly inside, and Nikita settled Belinda into her new quarters.

When she finally made her way to Michael’s chamber, Nikita found her husband dressed and asleep in the middle of the huge bed. Nikita smiled and pulled off his boots. Removing her dress, which she resolved to burn, she climbed onto the bed and snuggled into Michael’s arms. Pulling her to him, Michael murmured something unintelligible into her hair, and returned to sleep. Nikita too was soon sleeping soundly in the arms of her only love.

The following days and weeks were spent with Michael at Bourges. He knew that he must shortly return to his king’s errand, but he could not spend enough time around his wife.

When Nikita had told Michael about their future child, he had run the gamut of emotions from fear, to anger, to elation. Knowing that Jurgen had kidnapped his PREGNANT wife, made his anger all the more intense, and Michael wished that he had killed him more slowly.

Walter and Michael had made inquiries into the whereabouts of Sir Perry Bauer without luck. The man had vanished. However, both men knew that Bauer would never show his face in Bourges again for fear of his life, so he was soon forgotten.

When Nikita was approaching her fourth month, Michael tore himself away from her to finish training in the north before the winter set in. He left strict instructions that both Nikita and Adam were to be accompanied by an armed escort whenever they ventured outside of the castle gates. The eve of his departure was spent in sweet and sorrowful passion, but Nikita knew that he would not be gone long this time.

As the days of her confinement ticked by, Nikita busied herself with her herb gardens and teaching Adam his letters and numbers. A lord’s son must know how to read, she thought to herself. Nikita also spent much time matchmaking between Walter and Belinda.

Belinda had fit nicely into Nikita’s household and had increased efficiency greatly. Walter, however, stubborn as ever, continued to resist the attraction. So Nikita played the same game that she had with Michael: sending Belinda on errands that would cross Walter’s path. By the time Nikita’s baby was due, she could see the affection shining in the pair’s eyes.

The weather had begun to worsen and Nikita expected Michael to return home any day. A very large Nikita waddled about the castle issuing orders for the preparation of Bourges for the winter. On one cold, snowy day, Nikita began to feel the beginnings of labor, and though she had delivered countless babies before, she had never been on the delivering end.

As the pains began to worsen throughout the day, Nikita tried mightily to complete her duties. It was Belinda that found her panting and pale on the main staircase.

Nikita nodded tersely and Belinda helped her to stand. Slowly they made their way to Nikita’s chamber and she gratefully lay down as another contraction gripped her.

Belinda held her hand has Nikita fought against the pain that rippled through her abdomen. When the contraction had passed, Nikita turned her face up to Belinda’s.

As Nikita lay her head back on her pillows, she called out to Michael in her mind. She bade him to hurry. She did not want him to miss the birth of their child.

As Walter rode quickly to Adrian’s cottage in the forest, Michael fought his way south through a snow storm. He had finally completed his tasks and now, feeling Nikita’s fear, he pushed Lucifer on through the weather.

“I shall have something for the pain in just a moment. Remember the things you have been taught, they apply to you as well as every mother before.” Adrian assured her.

Going to the table that Nikita kept in her chamber for working her herbs, Adrian began to crush and mix a potion to help with Nikita’s pain. Belinda dipped her cloth in a basin of water and cooled Nikita’s brow again.

Belinda helped Nikita to sit up so that she could drink her medicine and then instructed the maids to fetch the items that Adrian would need for the birth

And so the day continued into evening. Nikita’s pain had lessened somewhat from the herbs that Adrian had given her, but as labor does, it continued to worsen. By midnight, Nikita was screaming out for Michael during her contractions, and Belinda had enlisted Walter as a surrogate hand-holder for Nikita’s bone-breaking grip.

By the time the church bells in Bourges tolled two, a cold and weary Michael staggered into the room. Unfortunately, he burst into Nikita’s chamber as she fought through a terrible, long contraction.

“It is the way of birth, Sir Michael. It is no worse than any other,” Adrian told him, patting him on the shoulder. The comment was not reassuring to Michael.

Michael kissed her once on the mouth and once on the forehead. But by the time he opened his mouth to speak again, Nikita was wracked with another pain.

Michael winced as Nikita gripped his hand this time, and Adrian clucked her tongue. “They are closer now. It will not be much longer,” she said knowingly, her voice barely heard above Nikita’s screams.

Adrian moved to the foot of the bed and lifted Nikita’s gown to check the progress of the baby. Nodding, she told Nikita, “You will be pushing the baby soon, my love.”

Michael carefully cradled Rose in his arms and moved to sit in the armchair near Nikita’s bed. Nikita settled down into her blankets and not caring about her unclean condition, fell into a deep sleep.

Nikita gave the baby her breast and looked again to her grandmother. “Perhaps you should wait until this experience has dimmed somewhat before you tell me that Nana,” she said with a laugh.

The next spring when Rose was four months old, Michael rode north again to complete the task that King Charles had set upon him. Since he had finished all of the townships in the north, he was able to return to Bourges every couple of weeks to visit his family as he worked his way south.

Adam doted on his little sister, watching her all the time. He talked to her and confided his secrets to her. Nikita thought she had never seen a more devoted sibling. And Rose adored Adam. Her first word was a baby variation of his name rather than mama or dada.

Early in the summer, Nikita convinced Walter that, although Belinda was not of noble blood, he could still marry her. She used herself as an example and Walter could hardly protest. Nikita was saddened to lose such a devoted and efficient servant but delighted to gain a friend also elevated to a lady’s position.

In Michael’s travels throughout the country, he happened upon Bauer in one of the garrisons he was setting up. He challenged the man to a duel and ended the coward’s life quickly. He never told Nikita.

Nikita only saw Elena’s spirit one more time, and she did not speak. One night while Michael was away, Nikita awakened to the cold feeling and saw Elena’s ghost in the corner. The spirit smiled sweetly at Nikita and then vanished. Nikita whispered, “Your welcome. Rest in Peace.” into the night and then went back to sleep.

The following summer, while attempting to keep up with a very precocious 18-month old Rose, Nikita also managed to give birth to twin boys, whom they named Charles Michael and Edward Walter.

France was at peace and after having finished creating the new system of defense for the King, Michael was content to stay at Bourges most of the time and enjoy his growing family.

One cold night, as Nikita lay awake by Michael’s warm side, she pondered again on how her life had changed. She now was a mother to four wonderful children, three of them of her own body; she had a magnificent husband whom she loved to the point of distraction, and sweet friendships with those of her household.