Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) by Grace Brannigan Read Free Book Online

castle was
surrounded by a mystical haze. He shook his head, cautiously glancing around,
looking at the faces beside him, wondering if he was the only one seeing that
haze.
    None of the other men looked to the sky in appreciation or
wonder, they just plodded ahead. How faithful were they to a man of Camdork's
breed? Could he buy any of them off and obtain more information? An idea with
merit, but right now he was a man without coin. He needed to lay low and listen
and watch. His life and that of his men on the Merry Maiden depended upon his
skills of observation and his ability to keep his thoughts to himself.
    A shadow passed overhead and he looked up again. He clenched
his jaw, biting make the curse that rose to his lips. Mother of God! There was
a winged creature in the sky. It appeared half as long as the Merry Maiden ,
and she was eighty feet long. A dragon.
    No one seemed to pay any heed to the dark winged creature.
    Feeling as if he were being watched, Erik looked to his
side. Ulrich's eyes were narrowed on him. Erik jerked a thumb toward the sky.
Ulrich tipped his head back slightly, his eyes looking upward. With a frown, he
looked back at Eric, shrugging.
    "'Tis only a wer-dragon." Ulrich ignored him once
more.
    Erik stared again at the creature, the wings swooping up and
down like a bird in flight. A dragon. It turned in the air and flew off just
like a bird. On its scaly gray back he saw a sparkling of blue light, like
gemstones capturing the light, and then it was gone.
    ¤¤
    As they passed through another small village, Erik noted how
well cared for the small thatched-roof houses appeared, the dwellings
whitewashed and neat. Small gardens in the side yards, people tending to their
animals. Several villagers stopped to watch as their small army ride by, their
glances hostile, the men running to pull their children from the path of the
trotting horses. A small cart in the road sat at an odd angle and as they drew
nearer, and Erik saw the wheel had broken.
    The man jumped off the cart in panic as the troop bore down
on him. He ran around the cart and began to help a woman, heavily pregnant,
from the cart. A soldier ahead of Erik lunged toward the cart, raising his arm
in which he held a stick.
    Erik put his heels to his mount, and his horse responded
with quick agility. "Stop!" he yelled, and ran his horse in front of
the other man's mount, so that the two horses met shoulder to shoulder.
    The man turned his attention from the couple on the ground,
swinging the pointed stick in his hands, his scowl ferocious. Upon seeing Erik,
he quickly pulled his horse back and dropped the hand with the weapon.
    "My Lord Camdork, I thought only to get them to move so
as not to delay you," the man said.
    "Drop the stick," Erik said harshly.
    "I am sorry, my Lord Camdork." The man looked
down.
    Erik felt the stillness around him. "Ride to the
back," he said.
    With tight lips, the man immediately obeyed, urging his
horse around the troops and riding to the back of the line.
    "Ride on," he said, and he led the procession
around the man, his cart and the pregnant woman. Thinking about the soldier's
quick compliance, he wondered again about this charade, pretending to be
Camdork. Erik grimaced. He was already getting a taste of the norm for
Camdork's brutality.
    "Camdork would not have interfered," said a voice
beside him. Erik looked over at Ulrich.
    "Good," he said. "I don't want my actions
associated in any way with that scoundrel."
    Ulrich smiled grimly. "Pretender, it is too late for
that. You are him. Surely you know a spell has been cast so the men see only
Camdork?"
    Erik stared at him. What could he say?
    Ulrich nudged his horse into a canter and rode ahead.
    Erik stared after him, eyes narrowed. He had to wonder why
the other men saw him as Camdork and yet Ulrich knew him for who he was -- a
pretender?
    ¤¤
    As they drew nearer the keep, Erik stared anew at the sun-burnt
fields, the grass stubbled and stunted. Trees were