Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

toward him, but afore he could comprehend her actions, she had begun to vanish, passing right through him and causing his breath to catch in his throat. ’Twas as if they had been one, for the briefest of instances, as he had felt an icy shudder rush through his entire body. He had turned, scanning the passageway behind him, but there had been no sight of her. In truth, if he had not seen her for himself, he would have thought she had not been there at all. Yet, with her disappearance, he had felt a strange, unknown sense of regret, almost as if he had lost something most precious to him.
    A shiver that had nothing to do with the breeze coming from the window began at the top of Riorden’s head and made its way clear down to his feet whilst he was brought back to the present. ’Twas almost as if the dead were calling to him from the grave with these hallucinations of ghosts. But why, then, would he dream of her? Did she have some message to impart to him? Who was she and, more importantly, why did he feel as if he, in truth, knew who she was? She had appeared so real when she had come to him in his sleep, and even now, he could feel the bitter disappointment when he had lost her in his dream as the mist had all but consumed them.
    Riorden stood, grabbed the wooden shutter, and closed it with a soft click as the latch fell into place. He turned and stared at the obnoxious, dark blue, velvet box he had all but forgotten the day afore. No good will come of whatever it holds , he thought, as he made his way to the table. Reaching out for the parchment, he broke the wax seal of the king and scanned the brief few words that seemed to blur as he read. ’Tis time to claim your birthright swam afore his eyes, along with the king’s signature. Opening the box, he swore, for inside was his father’s signet ring. Set in heavy gold, a lion’s head carved from black onyx looked back at him with mocking eyes. The fact that the ring was here could only mean one thing. His father was dead, and the title Riorden never wanted now belonged to him. Damn his father’s soul to hell!
    He shut the lid with a snap. ’Twas obvious King Henry had plans for him, and with this subtle message, he would be duty bound to return to Warkworth, despite his desire never to set foot upon that land ever again. But ‘twould not be this day, and, ’til the king came into residence here at Bamburgh, Riorden would continue to put off the inevitable.
    A short knock came at the side chamber where a sleepy eyed Patrick entered. “My lord, you dressed without me assisting,” he cried out in disappointment.
    “Not quite. Help me don this armor, Patrick. I must needs get out of this place, once the sun has risen. We shall find Aiden, break our fast, and head to the stables. Perhaps, a ride on the strand will clear my head.”
    “Does something ail you, Lord Riorden? I can seek out the castle’s healer, if there is a need.”
    “Nay. ’Twas just a restless night, Patrick, not that I need to explain myself,” Riorden declared briskly.
    “My apologies, my lord. I forgot myself.”
    Riorden grumbled beneath his breath, hearing the words my lord one too many times to his liking. He did not care for this form of address when it was referring to him, and yet, he had the distinct feeling ’twas something he must needs get used to.
    The ritual of donning one’s armor took some time, but ’twas better to be prepared, since he did not have a guard to call his own watching his back. Riorden cursed, knowing this would be the next thing to irritate him if the king was to have his way. He quickly realized Patrick was chattering away, and he had no idea what the lad had been saying.
    “…and I have heard tell the place is full of ghosties.”
    “What place?”
    “Well, Bamburgh, of course. I hope we do not run into any that are restless with incomplete business. Do you think ’tis true, Lord Riorden?” Patrick said with a fearful, squeaky voice.
    Riorden looked