He slid his hands down to hers once more, not wanting to stop touching her, and waited for her to speak. It was clear she had something to tell him the way she stared seriously at their clasped hands.
"What will we do now?" she asked him. "You can't ask me—"
"Marry me," he said suddenly. "Let's just get married," he said determinedly.
Isabel was shaking her head. "Somewhere," she said, "people are missing me. I mean," she suddenly thought about it, "God, I hope someone misses me. Why has no one been looking for me?"
She stood up and began pacing the dimly lit room. "It's like I didn't exist until now." She laughed a bit hysterically. "Not even to myself," she said putting a hand to her chest. "And now you want me to promise myself to you, and..." She paused, "I want to, but... a big part of who I am is a mystery to me. You don't know this person standing in front of you." She walked toward the window and looked out at the swirling bright snow.
A tear slid down her face again, "What have I done?" she asked. "I could've sinned an unpardonable sin, and you wouldn't know," she said.
"But think of all the wonderful things you could've done too," he said getting up and joining her at the window. He leaned against the wall and stared at her. "I know you, Isabel. You are a good person now." He touched her arm. "You could not have been much different before." He thought for a moment. "Please don't let your imagination upset you this way. Trust me," he said, and she looked over at him, "I know you were a good person."
"All I know," she said gazing into his eyes, "is that I don't want to ever be away from you." She gingerly wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "But, please don't talk of marriage now."
His arms were around her once more. "I won't." He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "But promise not to shut me out of your life. Just promise me," he spoke into her ruffled blond hair, "we'll be together someday."
She looked up at him with childlike eyes. "I promise," she whispered. Then kissed him.
Chapter 6
The next day during the morning meal, Valen was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually he was quite talkative, but this morning he just stared at his plate, and didn't touch his food.
Isabel had quite a bit on her mind as well, and breakfast mostly remained untouched that day.
Finally Valen mentioned the strange silence. "Well... it seems we have something in common, Isabel. Either the food is awful or we've all got something on our minds, eh? But I can see you haven't even tasted yours," he said glancing down at her plate.
Isabel smiled as she glanced down also, realizing she had been in a kind of reverie. "Oh, I just had an odd dream last night."
"Really? Like the others you told me about?" Valen asked, picking at his food.
"Yes," she answered, then felt bad for lying. Her mind was on Devon, and her impossible past, but she couldn't tell Valen that. What would he think of her falling in love at a time like this? Life goes like that sometimes, she thought. Couldn't be stopped from happening.
"Did you have something on your mind, Valen?" she asked him.
"Nothing of consequence, dear... nothing important." Valen's voice trailed off. He stared out the window at the snow still coming down softly. "Quite a storm we're having, isn't it? I'm surprised our Mr. Gabriel got back home safely. I sent him in the sleigh, but still... couldn't see a foot in front of you last night, hmm?"
Isabel nodded her agreement.
Valen suddenly put a hand on hers. "Darling, I hope you aren't slipping into a fog over this whole mess. Are you? You must let things unfold as they see fit. You can't force your memory to return, hmm?" he said quietly, looking encouragingly at her.
"Oh, I know you're right," Isabel said. "I just get so worried sometimes. I think that this is what life will be like for me for the rest of my life. I don't hate it here, Valen," she assured him. "I just can't help thinking of the people waiting for me to come back." She looked at her lap. "And then sometimes I think..." She shook her head.
"What? Tell me." He patted her hand.
"What if no one is waiting for me? What if I had no one? No one has been asking after me."
"Oh, Isabel," Valen sighed. Then he put both hands on her hand. "I hate seeing you like this, you know."
"I know. I can't help it," she said.
"No, I understand..." Valen answered quickly, "I'm just... sorry."
She smiled at him and added her other hand to his. "I'll be fine... I just have to keep busy until my memory decides to return."
"Wonderful plan." He cheered up. "How about a sleigh ride? The weather's ripe for it."
She laughed, "All right."
* * *
Isabel inched her way down the stairwell, trying to think of a hiding place. The march of the soldier's boots grew closer and her heart pounded faster than she thought possible. It was too late. She would be caught.
The man called quietly, with a growl in his voice, "Mandra!... Mandra!..."
She said nothing. She only closed her eyes and prayed. But he was so close now. She heard the door to the stairwell creak open, heard him step inside and felt his steady gaze upon her.
"No," she whispered.
"Come with me," he ordered and she felt herself yanked up by the arm. She opened her eyes. He was shoving her up the stairs and into the corridor. The man had a firm grip on her arm and marched her along at such a speed, she had to almost run to keep up.
"In here," he said and they entered another stairway, which they quickly descended. Then he led her down a hall to a heavy looking corner door.
Oh, God, she thought. This was it. He was turning her in. It was all over.
He shoved his body against the door to open it, and when he did a draft of cold air shot into the hall. It led outside!
She looked at the soldier in utter surprise. He grabbed her arm again and almost tossed her into the night.
She swung around to stare at him. Why had he let her go?
"Go!" he hissed, breaking her out of her daze.
Still quite startled, Isabel realized her situation. She began to run across the snow-covered castle grounds, amazed that she was finally free.
She woke up.
It had been the usual dream, except this time it had gone further. It had to be a memory. It had been repeated too many times to be just a dream.
Isabel sat up suddenly in her bed. She had just realized something. The soldier in her dream... had been Devon.
It was his voice calling her "Mandra." It was his frightening soldier's march that had haunted her all these weeks. How could that be? How could that kind man be the menacing nightmare guard that kept her awake at night? There must be some other reason he'd shown up in her dream... but it was so real. It was so real.
She lay awake, once again, until morning.
* * *
Mr. Gabriel ambled up the stairs early for their morning session. He held a book under one arm, and whistled a soft tune as he stepped into the library.
He had already slapped the book onto the table before he noticed her.
She sat in a chair by the window, and stared at him. Her look was so serious, it made him uncomfortable immediately.
"Isabel?" he asked, "What's wrong?"
Her gaze never wavered. She said nothing. Her face looked tired and pale, and her eyes were the slightest bit red.
"Are you sick?" he asked, coming towards her and putting a hand to her cheek.
She looked up at him, "Devon..."
"Yes, dear?" He sat down in the chair opposite to hers. Her expression worried him.
"I have to know something," she said, suddenly standing and beginning to pace. "I've been thinking about it all night, and I can't make sense of it." She stopped and turned towards him. "Just tell me if you know me," she said firmly.
"What do—" He started.
"No." She shook her head. "You know what I mean. I can tell you do, Devon." She fought the tears that had sp
rung to her eyes. "You know me... and you never said a word. How could you do this to me?" she cried. "I was under the impression that you cared about me."
"Isabel, please..." Devon stood up.
"All these months..." She waved her hands in the air, "the nightmares I suffered through... and you knew all along!" she shouted.
"Will you let me explain?" he said trying to grab her wrists as she went for the door.
She waved him away, "You can explain if you want, but do not touch me."
The way she stepped away from him sent a pang through his chest. They stood quietly, her leaning against a table, he studying the glass of the window, searching for words.
"I didn't think this would happen," he said. "I didn't plan to hurt you. That wasn't what I wanted." He looked at her imploringly. "I guess you've had a memory," he said when she wouldn't return his look.
She didn't answer.
"I was a soldier in your father's army," he admitted finally.
"My father?" she asked, looking up.
"Eret," he said. "He's king of the Kargid Lands. And he's fighting a war right now to expand those lands." He paused for her to digest this information.
"My father is that king?" she asked. "The man Valen talks about?" She laughed, but without merriment. "He calls him 'the greedy serpent'." She shook her head in disbelief. "And to think the 'serpent's' daughter was right there listening."
Devon wanted to reach out for her, but felt she would push him away. "Valen was right," he said quietly. "Eret will never stop fighting... for more. Do you know why you were trying to escape?"
She shook her head.
"Have you heard of Tailo? The king of Malsa?" He waited, again 'no'. "He's very old, you see, and his lands are quite sizable. Well, your father had a more devious plan than battle in mind to win that kingdom." He glanced out the window. "He had arranged your marriage to that old man." He looked at her then. "And when Tailo died, he planned to take the land from you... without a fight."
She said nothing, so he continued, "You were... expendable to him. And he didn't expect you to resist actually. You had pretty much obeyed him up to that point. Not that he'd been much a part of your life until then. Do you recall any of this?" he asked.
"No..." She sounded faraway. "And my mother?" she asked.
"Died," he answered. "You were probably too small to remember."
She looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She shook her head. "Go on."
"All right." He took a deep breath, "You were always good with horses, I guess. It was your most common pastime. Anyway, I suppose you figured the only way out of the marriage was to escape. I think you'd quarreled with your father, and he wouldn't back down. Not surprising." He sat down in his chair again. "He asked that an extra guard be in the castle that night, right outside your door... and that was me."
"And I got past you?" she asked.
"In a way," he answered. "You were already missing when I arrived. I didn't want to cause a great alarm by reporting that. I didn't want to get in trouble for losing you. So I looked for you myself. I found you hiding in a stairwell, a small bag packed, your cloak on, all ready to go... somewhere." He chuckled. "You looked so afraid of me. I made a decision then."
"What did you decide?" she asked.
"I thought to myself, 'This girl doesn't belong in the middle of this mess. She's so innocent.' You didn't look like you had it in you to keep fighting him. I had begun to doubt his sanity. He just wouldn't be satisfied with all he had," Devon said profoundly. "He had so much... you, for one." He looked at her intently. "I would've treated you differently." He sounded far away.
"And you have," she said sitting down beside him. "Finish your story," she said quietly.
"I knew what I would do, when I saw you there. I sent you out an unguarded door, and when I got back to Eret—an hour or two later—I said you must have left before I got there, because when I went in to check on you, you were gone." He threw his hands up, ending his story.
"Was the fighting not near the castle?" she asked curiously, still unable to believe she had such a fascinating life.
"Oh, no, his army was in the far west by then," he said. "And I did not know of your nightmares, Isabel. I thought it was best that you had forgotten him."
She glanced up suddenly, remembering her purpose. "You lied to me."
"No, I just didn't tell you all I knew. But it was to protect you... or so I thought at the time," he said.
"Did you follow me?" she asked, suddenly curious about his presence in Valen's castle.
"Oh, that. Well, in a manner of speaking. I was dispatched on a mission, you see. I was to hunt you down, and bring you back. It fell to me because I was the fool who had let you get away." He smiled. "The funny thing is that I had always done well in school, and figured that tutoring would bring me money to live on while I searched for you." He laughed. "Imagine my surprise when I walked into this room for the first time, and you acted as if we had never met. I could see you had found what you needed. I had never really intended to return you to him, of course. His sending me away was the only way I had to escape. Deserters do not fare well with him." He had finished his tale.
He looked so serious, she put her hands on his. "I understand why you didn't tell me," she said softly. "But I wish you had. I worried over it for so long."
"I know. I'm so sorry, Isabel." He put his hand to her cheek again. "I love you, you know," he said.
"And I love you." She took his hand from her face and kissed it, then stared sweetly at him.
"We're quite a pair of runaways." He chuckled quietly.
"I'm still in danger, aren't I?" she asked him seriously.
He looked down before he answered, and cleared his throat.
"Yes," he said, "I'm afraid so."
Chapter 7
The war was inching closer to Aerineva every day. Smaller kingdoms had combined to fight off Eret's growing army. Still it moved north, slowly but steadily. Every day Valen became a little more serious, even a little paler. Seeing this, Isabel had decided not to bother him with her newly discovered secret. He worried too much, she knew, and it would upset him so to know where she had come from. That the evil man fighting ever closer to his door was her own father. She shuddered to think she had ever actually lived in his castle.
She also kept her secret to herself out of a groundless fear. How would Valen feel if he knew not only was he in danger because of his land, but because he was sheltering one of Eret's most valuable playing pieces? She feared Valen would send her away if he knew. Part of her told her he would never do such a thing, but still she had these thoughts.
So she kept her true identity to herself, and watched with pity as she saw her dear friend grow restless and irritated. Then she found out exactly how far his thoughts had gone.
They were walking over his rolling land. The snow had melted so only patches remained. It was a warmer day than they'd had in a while. He was silent for a long time, then he spoke.
"Do you see all this land?" he asked.
She nodded.
"It isn't much," he said shrugging, as they stopped to look around them. "I know that. And I never cared much for it except..." He looked down at her and then away. "I know you aren't my family, Isabel, but I feel like you are. This place has never felt like a home so much as it does now. I can't help but think this way." He surveyed his surroundings again. "I have to fight for it," he said quietly reaching down for her hand.
"What do you mean?" she asked, but she already knew.
"I have to join the resistance, dear." He looked her in the eye.
"Valen, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I've thought about it for a long time, darling. I used to think that when it happened, it would happen. It's only land." He shook his head. "But it isn't only land. It's my freedom, for one. I'm old. I thought it wouldn't matter in the end. I'd had a good life, you know? But I do
n't want this to end." He squeezed her hand.
"Valen, nothing can end this." She held up their joined hands. "This land is not worth your life." He said nothing. "Leave it," she said, "but don't leave us."
He stared at the ground for a moment. "Isabel, Isabel..." he muttered. "You're so young. He won't just take the land. He's a tyrant. He'll make all our lives miserable. It isn't about being poor... he'll take our souls if it suits him. He's mad."
Isabel only stared at the mountains in the distance.
"I have to go," he said, then patted her hand with his free one. "I have to try."
She glanced at him, her heart was heavy. She felt like he would be going to his own death. "I know," she said finally. "I know."
* * *
The morning Valen left, Isabel couldn't go down to breakfast. She couldn't say goodbye to him. She knew she'd cry and she didn't want him to see her upset. So she watched and she waited. Out of her window, she saw him finally leave. He had five of his men with him, and they left on foot. He had wanted to leave the coach for her. And, as he had said to her the day before, "No sense in going as fast as you can toward a battlefield."
As soon as he was gone, she ventured downstairs. She went outside and stared across the rolling hills, dusted now with a gently falling snow. She was standing like this when she heard a voice behind her.
"He'll be back, I think."
She turned to find Nole leaning up against the old gray stone wall that encircled the garden.
"It's not very likely, Nole," Isabel answered.
"No," he admitted. "But I can't help but think so anyway."
"Why are you so calm?" she asked suddenly. "Was he not your friend?" There was some bitterness in the last question.
"IS my friend," Nole corrected her. "I don't feel he will be leaving us just yet. That is all. Don't you have faith?"
"Sometimes."
"That isn't faith. Faith is all the time. Not just when it seems likely things will go your way. You need to let go of what you think you see, Isabel," Nole said seriously, "and realize that Valen has just begun his journey back to us." He pushed himself away from the wall. "He will be back." And with that he slowly ambled his way across the field to the stables, leaving Isabel to follow him with her eyes, perplexed.