Chapter 66

LORD ROGAN CROSSED the courtyard to meet the returning riders. Darkness had fallen, and torches illuminated the night. His second-in-command walked with him, holding a torch. The riders stopped just before their lord, and Rogan reached his arms up.

“Give me my daughter,” he ordered.

Gently, the soldier dismounted and transferred a still unconscious Nora to her father’s waiting arms. Rogan’s eyes widened, and he gasped at the blood on her.

“She was not to be harmed!” he roared. “Can nobody understand that?”

“That is not her blood, my lord,” the solider hastened. “That is Watkins’ blood. He died trying to subdue her. We also lost Lewis and Moncreath. Milady is responsible for Lewis’s death, though the man that travels with her killed Moncreath immediately.”

“My gentle daughter killed two of my best men on her own? Were they drunk?”

“No, my lord. She fought with skill.” The solider bowed.

Lord Rogan studied his daughter’s face. It was the first time he had laid eyes upon her in eight decades. His men had caught her before, but she had always escaped before they could be reunited. He was suddenly overcome with emotion. “Take her,” he said hoarsely to his second-in-command. “I cannot.”

Lord Rogan’s top lieutenant passed his torch to the soldier and gently picked up Lady Eleanor in his arms. He showed no emotion as he looked upon her face.

“Elspeth!” Rogan ordered.

“Yes, my lord.” A woman hurried forward and bobbed quickly.

“See that she is made comfortable in her chamber. Give her a fresh nightgown to wear and check her for injuries.” Rogan turned to the two soldiers who brought Nora in. “You will stand guard at her door. No one but I or Elspeth enters. No one. And my daughter is not to leave the room unescorted.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“When you are finished, Elspeth, see to tonight’s dinner. We shall have a feast to celebrate my daughter’s return home.”
 
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*Jack sat on the hard bench in the sweltering hall filled with mostly men and few women. The uniform he wore was made of wool, and sweat clung to his body, having nowhere else to go. The cigar smoke hung about the room and stung his eyes. He’d never been fond of the things but wouldn’t say no to one if the situation called for it. This one did not.

*Nora arrived and squeezed onto the bench next to him. “They haven’t started yet?” she whispered. *

*“They’ve been prattling on for a while now,” he replied. “Our place is secure. We’re part of the command leading a reg-iment to Fort Point with supplies and a team of oxen.”*

*“We as in…”*

*“Myself and a colonel.”*

*“Jack! You know nothing about the wagon trail. And de-spite your uniform, you have little military experience.” *

*“But I know Indians,” Jack countered. “I suppose that will be enough.” *

*Nora fanned herself. After a few waves, she turned the fan to Jack. It did nothing to relieve his hellish condition.*

*Somehow, in his subjective mind, Jack understood he was dreaming now. He knew this was important, so he was desperate to pay close attention to the details. He looked around the room. It was strange to see things through his own eyes, while in the dream experiencing it for the first time.*

*They were in a courthouse in a town called Washington, D.C. A sign noted that this was a public meeting to discuss the wagon train heading to San Francisco, California. He glanced at the flyer in his lap, and the date read March the 25th, 1850. So, it must have been all the people in the room heating it up and not the outside temperature. *

*He looked down at the list in his hand with the supplies he was to requisition. Corn meal, flour, crackers, bacon, sugar, coffee, tea, beans, rice, dried apples, dried beef, candles, salt… *

*“All these people seeking gold,” Nora murmured. “How many will die along the way?” *

*“That’s maudlin,” Jack smirked.*

*“I have read accounts of wagon trains. They’re dangerous, Jack. Indians are hostile.” *

*“I have some experience with Indians.”*

*“The Comanche?”*

*“Yes. The Comanche, too,” Jack replied. “Never forget, Nora, we encroached on their lands. It is we who have committed the atrocities. They’re merely fighting for their right to survive. If we leave them be, no harm should come to us.” *

*“That’s not likely, is it?” Nora snorted. “The states look to the west to expand. The Indians will be in the way.” *

*“The Indians won’t make it easy.”*

*The organizational meeting seemed to be coming to a close. As a high-ranking officer with the United States Army and second-in-command to the colonel leading the wagon train to California, Jack had been given the list of names of all people joining them, both military and civilian. There were almost two hundred names, but his eyes zeroed in on just one.*

*One Maguire, Bridget—Teacher was making the trip. *
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When Jack came to, his head felt like it was about to explode off his shoulders. He took in his surroundings and discovered he was still on the side of the road where they had stopped. The horses and cart remained, but Nora was gone.

Slowly, he rose to his feet with a groan. He swayed a bit upon gaining his balance but was steady again after a moment.

He took a moment to go over all the details of the dream a couple of times to commit them to memory. There was much to take away from that one. First, they would be returning to the Colonies, which were possibly called the United States. Did that mean that Ben and Hancock would not only get their war, but win it? Would they be freed from English rule? He could only hope they lived through it. He wondered if he should share that information with Ben or Hancock, should he ever see them again. What if he were wrong? It could make them overconfident and, thus, sloppy in their fighting technique. No, he wouldn’t put them in any more danger than what they were headed for.

Secondly, they would find the Scholar in the year 1850 going to San Francisco, California, wherever that was.

Third, and most importantly, Nora was at his side. He would get her back. The only question was how? His first inclination was to jump on his horse and ride at breakneck speed in the direction he and Nora had been headed. He was desperate to get her back, but there were a few things stopping him.

First, he didn’t actually know where her father’s manor was. He had been relying on her directions while they traveled. He would have to continue to the village they headed towards and see if anyone there knew how to get to Rushwyck Manor. Secondly, he couldn’t ride in without a well-laid out plan. He was one man against the whole of Rogan’s forces. That was both to his advantage and disadvantage.

He took his horse’s reins and tethered him to the cart, then mounted Nora’s horse and started toward the village. He tried to process everything that had happened that morning. Nora had told him that her brother, Fox, had foreseen that not only would Jack be Nora’s Warrior, but that he would fall in love with her too. Why had that angered him so earlier? He did love her. But that revelation on her part had suddenly made him question everything.

She was correct. He did know that she spoke the truth in relation to the stone. If he could finally admit his dreams foretold reality, then how far out of the realm of possibility could the stone and eternal life be? His dreams had correctly showed him that he would meet Nora. So then wouldn’t it stand to reason that Fox’s vision of Nora finding love would also hold true?

She hadn’t revealed that detail from the start. But logically, why would she tell him? If she had, Jack would have fought it with everything he had. He might even have walked away. No. That was an untruth. He never would have walked away. She was the woman from his dreams, after all, and he could admit that nothing would make him walk away from her. By holding that information back, she had allowed Jack to come to realize his feelings naturally without any pressure. Until today, she hadn’t pressured him.

And she’d been right to hold the information back from him. He had done exactly what she’d said she’d been afraid of—get angry and run away from her. Not trust her. He’d let his emotions rule him for the worse, and now he was paying for it. He’d have to apologize. Probably on his knees since he’d been so horrid to her. He would do that if that was what it took. And once he had her back, he would make certain there was no question in her mind how he felt.

Lost in thought, Jack was surprised when he came upon the Rushwyck Manor. It was magnificent—a large, sprawling stone house. A fortress. He stayed just inside the trees and studied the structure. It appeared well defended from attack. Men stood guard on every turret, at the gates, patrolling the grounds. But who would attack? Just who were Rogan’s enemies now?

Jack felt a tugging in his mind as he looked upon Nora’s former home. He could hear the screams, smell the fires, hear the clang of metal upon metal. The screams… Nora’s screams.

He squeezed his eyes shut and let the dream come back to him. He followed Nora as she ran through the corridors and studied her direction. He needed to remember the inside of the manor if he was to find her and get her out. The familiar faces of the Scholar and Healer swam by each begging Nora to come with them. She refused, desperate to find her brother.

The dream felt different now. Before, he knew that he had wanted to help her, shield her, fight for her. But now, as he went over the events in his conscious mind, he knew why. He was desperate to help her because he loved her. He knew, even when he was a child having this same dream, that she would mean something to him one day, that she had meant something to him even then. She was a constant companion to him growing up, even if only in sleep.

He would not fail her.