Chapter 21 The Covenant This is the final chapter-I'm so sorry it took so long to
complete! Now on to with my sequel for The Hills Have Eyes

Rising at the rap upon his door, Jared stared at the polished wood a moment, focusing his thoughts before drawing breath into his lungs. His heart pounded with emotion but he pursed his lips, steeling himself for what he sensed would be a formidable task. He had to be convincing—there was no turning back. After hours of silent deliberation he'd made his choice, for as far as he could discern it was the only way. What he was about to do would cost him a great deal, and he wanted the matter settled as quickly as possible. Thankfully Llewellyn would not give them long, and for that he had to admit he was grateful. It would make his task easier.

"Enter," he called out, clasping his hands behind his back as he faced the flames dancing in the hearth. Outside the wind howled around the tower in which he was held. Beneath its force he heard the door open and close. Senses heightened, he noted the sigh of disappointment before footsteps came slowly toward him and halted.

"Will you not even turn to face me, son?"

Reeling inwardly from the flood of emotions that voice prompted, he clenched his jaw and waited, After a moment his stepfather laid a hand upon his shoulder and squeezed it.

"I've missed you, Jared, more than I thought I could—"

"Dispense with sentiment, shall we?" he interrupted, turning his head to look at him. He'd aged considerably, and wore an expression of grief that surprised him. Ignoring it, he shrugged off the hand upon his shoulder and walked back toward his desk. "We've much to discuss, and not long to do it."

Thick white brows shot up as his stepfather followed him, frowning in disapproval when their gazes met. "The onlyissue between us is your brothers' betrayal, of which I knew nothing until it was done."

"I disagree," he shot back, stabbing a finger into the document lying before him. "There are far more important matters at hand, matters which affect the lives and safety of many."

"I apologize for your brothers' behavior," he continued, "though as you well know they acted of their own accord—"

"Your sons are no brothers of mine—"

"I've given them hell and punished them accordingly, Jared!" Evan insisted. "What they did was unforgiveable—"

"I forgive them, as I must," Jared stated, "and as I am bound to do so before God."

"Well never let them know that, they'll only laugh in your face," his stepfather warned, a sly smile on his face. For the first Jared felt that he was seeing the man as he really was, not as he'd imagined him. And certainly not as the kind man he knew as a boy."But forget the past," he continued. "We must hope, despite how badly things look at present."

Jared studied him a moment. "The only choice we have before us is to join Llewellyn's forces, or invite civil war!"

His stepfather eyed him sternly. "One would think you'd have used your time at Edward's court to our advantage. Judging by the reports I received from my contacts in the Marches, it appeared you were."

"I cannot turn him from his plans of expansion—you of all people should appreciate that fact," Jared said quietly."

"Perhaps you did not invoke your legendary powers of persuasion."

Ignoring that comment, Jared expelled a breath of frustration. "At present we find ourselves Llewellyn's prisoners— facing that truth will enable us to react accordingly."

"But Llewellyn's trust is easily won," Evan said dismissively. "All we must do is acknowledge his position and give him our word of support."

Jared lifted the document he'd signed only moments before. "Words no longer hold weight here—he insists upon a signed covenant. We must sign it, and accept his terms."

Snatching it from him he scanned the contents and slapped it back down upon the desk. Crossing his arms, he eyed Jared meaningfully. "Your mother desired that you and I be like father and son—"

"Leave her out of this," he warned, sliding the document toward him. "Agree to support Llewellyn and we leave this place with our lives. If we do not there will be no future, for either of us. His patience has worn thin."

"You can't be serious, Jared—I'll never sign a covenant with that man!"

"He's already won support among the other chieftains," Jared reminded him. "The time has come to choose—either him or Edward."

"Edward at least has his wits about him!" he bellowed, turning and stalking toward the fire. "How did this self-proclaimed 'prince' ever manage to gain such power?"

Jared shook his head in frustration. "I spent two years of forced service in Edward's realm—I can assure you that wits or none his intention is to conquer this land and every other land bordering his and beyond, without care for loss of life."

Evan turned to stare at him critically. "If I'm not mistaken you were the one with the plan to appeal to Edward for self-rule. Tell me, what happened to that Jared?"

"He was betrayed and left to rot in the wood, and later denied ransom."

"Surely you know that your brothers acted without my knowledge—"

"I know nothing at all, father—save for the fact that I apparently failed to meet your expectations and was therefore cut off."

"I had to be hard on you—as the eldest you had to set an example for your brothers."

"Your sons have never respected my example, so your plan was futile."

"I expect more from you, Jared, even though you continually disappoint me—especially now!"

"Consider yourself relieved of that duty! Sign Llewellyn's covenant and we shall part ways as soon as possible!"

"I will not yield my support to a rebel and a madman—"

"At least he's not a coward."

For a moment they glared at each other in silence, then Evan rebounded. "What of your inheritance? It will be swallowed up by his greediness for land even before you can win it!"

"I have already laid claim to it, no thanks to you."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Has he manipulated the legal system in order to bribe you into supporting him? His tricks will never hold up in a court of law, not with the local justices."

"It was not necessary to manipulate anything."

"But you cannot legally claim your father's lands without satisfying the stipulations of—"

"I have already married a woman of my own choosing," he shot back, "and not for the sake of my inheritance."

"So this is what has changed you—you believe you are in love! Now I see it: he must be threatening her life or you would never have turned—"

"Just sign the document!" Jared insisted, interrupted when the door flew open, admitting four guards who entered his chamber and surrounded them. Taking his stepfather's arms they looked to Jared for orders, but he shook his head.

"He's not ready to sign yet, but give him time," he sighed, extending the document to the chief guard. "Take this with you—I've fulfilled my part of the agreement, and now wish to be left in peace."

He nodded and they left immediately, his stepfather protesting. "Don't believe Llewellyn—he's not to be trusted! You'll regret what you've done, mark my words!"

When the door shut behind them Jared sat down heavily and leaned his head back against the chair. Closing his eyes, he felt exhaustion overtaking him. His head throbbed painfully as the ache in his heart spread throughout his chest. The details of the encounter raced through his mind, accusing him.

"Father forgive me," he prayed quietly, shaking his head. "I have been disrespectful, and have deceived the man who raised me, the man you sent to be my protector. I pray that someday he will somehow understand…"

Neal Carrick stared silently at the young woman holding her basket, her face drawn and thin. Her expression was troubled, and her posture was that of dejection. But there was no doubt in his mind that it was Aileen. And she was standing not more than a 50 meters from the place where he and Artus hid in a nearby alley.

"Was I right—it's her, isn't it?" Artus whispered close at hand.

He nodded, unable to take his eyes off her. Dear God—what has happened to her?

"Let's move," Rhys whispered, leading them back through the alley and out into the crowd. Keeping a close eye on her, they followed as she slowly made her way back to the cart in which she'd arrived.

How long Jared had left her this time, he wondered, not that he blamed is new son-in-law. He knew the demands Edward had placed upon Jared, unreasonable demands which Artus had further detailed to him along the journey here. He restrained himself from the desire to go to her and tell her he was taking her home, and followed at a distance behind his escorts. They saw Aileen stop to place her basket in back of the cart and go around the side to climb up into the seat, an effort she completed not without some difficulty. He studied her carefully with a physician's eyes, noting how stiff her movements were. She curled her arm around her middle as if she suffered from pain there, but when the older woman came out of the mill with a delivery boy, Aileen's face lit up. The delivery boy dumped a few sacks into the back for them before the older woman climbed up and took the reins from Aileen.

"She's not well," he whispered to Artus, "I need to go to her."

"Not here," was the answer, and though he began to voice his objections he realized the need to be patient. They did not know who the woman with her was, nor did they know where Aileen was staying. Which was why they decided to follow them. Once the cart lurched into motion they turned to their waiting horses and mounted quickly. Rhys had brought the horses to the back corner of the livery, which was situated at the edge of the road. They rode some distance behind, keeping to the woods bordered the road.

Since their arrival no one had been able to find out anything about Jared, nor had inquiries using his name produced anything but gossip. The consensus here was that he was a traitor and still rode in service for Edward in the Marcher lands. Even Edward's contact in Flint had not reported a contact with him, which encouraged them. If he was in the area, his presence was not suspected, which was why they needed to ask Aileen to be sure.

Rising slowly from a bent position, she gripped the handles of her bag and continued to collect whatever dry kindling she could find for the fire. As she did she felt the baby move, and smoothed a hand over her slightly protruding middle.

"Shhh, love," she whispered, "it's all right, I'll be fine—I'm just missing your father…"

Swiping at the tear threatening to slip down her cheek she continued working, glancing toward the cabin and wondering how hard a winter they would face. Each day she arose the sickness met her, forcing her to fast until mid day when her stomach would finally settle. Having Elda stay with her was a blessing, though, and as she gazed toward the lamp burning at the window she prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for her company. Her heart ached for Jared, but she forced her mind to stay clear of that subject just to maintain the shaky sense of peace she'd worked so hard to find. It was difficult when everywhere she looked there were reminders of their time together, however brief it had been. The long hours of night were most difficult, for the memories were strongest there in his bedchamber. She often felt his presence just before finally falling asleep, and her dreams were often filled with him.

"I must stop," she whispered to herself, forcing her mind to concentrate on the present. She walked toward a mound of tangled branches at the edge of the wood, hoping to find dryer wood. But as she drew closer she felt the hair at the back of her neck prickle. Pausing in her tracks, she gazed around the perimeter of the cleared land but saw nothing. Perhaps an animal was foraging for food in the wood, now that the first snow had already dusted the frozen ground. Continuing on, she reached out to snap off a limb, breaking it into pieces to fit in the bag. Again the feeling of being watched heightened, and she looked up, gasping in surprise at the man standing by a large oak. He raised a hand and called her name softly.

"Aileen," she heard her name, spoken only loud enough for her to hear. Recognizing it she dropped her bag in surprise.

"Father!"

He held out his arms and she rushed toward him, grabbing him tightly as he choked her name again. Holding onto him she leaned back to stare at his beloved face.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, her spirits immediately lifting. "How did you know where to find me?"

He reached up to tuck a tendril of her hair back into her scarf. "I had to see you, my dear," he whispered, nodding back over one shoulder "Artus and Rhys are here with me."

She stared into the growing darkness, seeing two shadowed forms among the trees. "What are they doing here?"

He gripped her arms. "Edward sent us to spy on Jared…it was the only way I could get to see you."

"He's not here, Father! He was captured by Llewellyn months ago!"

Neal heard the pain in her voice and put his arm around her shoulders. "And you've been alone all this time?"

She nodded, glancing back toward the cabin. "You cannot come in?"

He shook his head. "We may have been followed—you mustn't tell anyone you've seen us."

"I won't—then Llewellyn didn't contact Edward about him?"

Neal frowned. "Not as far as we know. He must be holding Jared to force him to support his cause."

"That won't be an easy task," she said, shaking her head.

"You look unwell, Aileen," Neal stated, studying her in the dim lighting. "You're too thin—"

"I'm carrying his child, Father," she smiled. "Do not worry—it is only the morning sickness."

Neal stared at her a moment. "I'm to be a grandfather? Why that's wonderful—but you must try to eat to remain strong. And when your time comes I must return to help you!"

"Might you come here, Father? I cannot leave, in case Jared returns."

He paused a moment, then nodded. Turning to guide her into the wood, he reunited her with Artus, whom she hugged, and then shook Rhys's hand. Hushed words were exchanged concerning the fact that Jared had never contacted Edward's people, nor had he planned to. They briefly formulated a plan before deciding to part.

"I've been gone too long as well," she agreed, glancing back at the cabin. "Elda will be worried, and Jon will soon come looking for me."

"Jon?"

"One of Jared's clansmen—his cousin Uri assigned him to guard me, though I must admit I dislike having one."

"It's good you are protected, with Jared absent," Artus whispered. "We will do all we can to find his whereabouts and condition. Perhaps Edward will ransom him back."

She shook her head. "I believe it's too late for that—Jared holds an important position among his people, though he does not support Llewellyn."

Rhys edged closer, his eye on the horizon. "We must go," he said meaningfully, nodding to Aileen.

"We must return to Edward," Neal stated. "Come with us—"

"No, Father!" she whispered, gripping his hands. "I would miss Jared, should he return …"

He studied her a moment, then nodded. "I understand…but what about the baby? When will I see you again?"

She looked to Artus, who frowned. "We must discuss this with Edward."

"This is my home now," she pleaded. "Perhaps Father could come and stay? I am sure Jared's aunt and uncle would welcome his coming.'

"But what of his father?" Neal asked.

"Jared's father was killed many years ago, as was his mother—this is his real family."

Neal nodded to Artus's gesture that they leave. "Go back inside, it's getting cold...we will see each other again my dear, God willing."

She hugged him for a moment, then Artus and even Rhys. "Thank you both—please take care and return safely. I pray that we meet again someday soon."

Artus nodded curtly. "Take care of the little one, Mouse."

"I will," she agreed, watching them disappear into the wood. "God speed."

To her surprise Jon came up slowly behind her, staring off after them.

"I thought you were in the barn with the animals," she stated, taking his arm. "Could you take the kindling for me?"

He reached for the bag, eyeing her meaningfully. "Who were they?"

"My father, and an old friends of mine."

"From Edward's lands?"

She nodded. "He sent them to see if Jared made contact with Edward's man in Flint."

"I see… I should have accompanied you to market—"

"Don't be concerned, Jon—though they are loyal to Edward, they respect and like Jared a great deal."

"And now they know where his family lives."

"They would never disclose the way here, I'm sure."

He studied her a moment. "I am forced to trust your judgment."

"Edward needs Jared," she tried to explain. "He expects him to spy on Llewellyn, discern his weakness."

He shook his head. "Then Edward is not all that bad, as long as he allows us to hold our lands."

"Jared nearly convinced him of that—but now, I'm not so sure."

"Come," he urged her. "You shouldn't be out here in the cold—both Jared and Uri will have my head."

She smiled up at him, starting back toward the cabin. She could clearly imagine both men doing that very thing, and sighed at the thought.

November, 1277

Jared turned his horse and halted, eyes scanning the hordes of displaced and wounded crowding the wharf. The latest battle had left many refugees in its wake, many eager to leave and start new lives somewhere else. The air was filled with smoke and the stench of illness, and he lifted a hand to pull the mask up over his nose. Pressing the bandage tighter against his arm, he was thankful that he'd managed to staunch the flow of blood with its tight binding. Looking up, he squinted at the distant landscape, his vision still affected by the head wound he'd suffered while fighting all along the coastline. It had left him with a nearly constant ache that he sensed only rest and time would relieve, but despite his wounds he was filled with renewed energy—his service to Llewellyn was finally over, and as for his debt to Edward, he considered it canceled by breach of trust.

In July the king's forces had invaded the North, accompanied by thousands of his own people who had chosen loyalty to the Crown. After all his efforts to unite them Edward's strength had prevailed, and beneath its assault Prince Llewellyn had finally surrendered. All that the prince retained now was his title and the land of Gwynedd. It had been a crushing defeat, and Jared knew that had Llewellyn possessed a more noble and predictable character he might have been able to lead the people into victory. But that had not been the case.

With a sigh of regret he turned back to face the coast, trying to get his bearings while praying once again that his message had reached Aileen. He'd paid a great deal of money to ensure it was delivered by a trusted agent, and now it was just a matter of time to see whether it would be answered. Though he was a fugitive and in danger of being captured by Edward's men to be tried for treason, he was confident of his escape plan. Llewellyn, to his credit, had made good his word by deeding him an isolated island in a neutral chain of islands off the coast as a safe refuge. All that must be done was to wait for Aileen to be escorted there, with Uri's help of course.

Aileen…how he longed to see her again, even if he would be hard pressed to make up to her the past year of separation. He was prepared to face her ire, planned to court her all over again and properly this time, if she allowed him the opportunity. He could almost imagine her there on Carawyhin, perhaps gazing out into the same sea he was. She would be safe there with the rest of his family and clan, for only when the weather was completely clear could its outline be seen from the shore. It had to be this way, he knew, until Edward's influence was accepted and established. Grieving the loss of his mother's lands, he hoped that someday they might return there, though they now fell within the realm of the Crown. Still, his father's lands were his at last, and would need to be inspected and restored, if necessary. There they could settle permanently and start a new life in peace.

A hand grasped his bag, startling him. He reached down and shoved it away, turning his mount at the same time and riding from the docks. There was still time to ride into the town and sell his horse to buy much needed supplies and clothing before he met the fishing vessel that would take him to the island. It had cost him an exorbitant amount of money to keep his passage a secret, but the money he'd been given as compensation would see him through for a while. He could see how desperate people were, and with that in mind he rode toward the livery to make the sale as quickly and quietly as possible. Once he was afoot he would no longer attract as much attention.

Aileen gripped the edge of the boat as Jon stepped out, his huge frame a dark silhouette against the moon's light. It rocked dangerously as she clutched Micah close beneath the warmth of the heavy shawl. His little hand touched her chin as she rose somewhat stiffly, taking Jon's hand and jumping down onto the sandy shore. While he secured the line around a boulder she stood gazing up at the cliff. The wind had died from a gale to a stiff breeze, and she fought it to keep her hood on and her scarf away from her face. Unable to see any sign of life, she heard Jon tell her to wait while he checked for a way up and nodded as he picked up her overstuffed bag and strode off toward the base of the cliff.

He amazed her, this quiet man who'd seen her safely through the past year, protecting her father on his way from the Marches to the cabin to deliver her son. He had been there in the background of her life all this time, and though she was happy to be reuniting with Jared, she knew she would miss her guard. As he lifted an arm and waved for her to follow, she felt her spirits soar at the prospect of that reunion.

He's here somewhere, she thought with a thrill of excitement as they started up the trail which led to the top of the rocks. Judging from his missive, he would have already been here a week. It would be wonderful to see his face, especially when she introduced him to Micah, the son she had borne to him without his knowing of his existence. How would he react, she wondered? And how would Micah?

"Steady," Jon said, grasping her arm as she slipped on a wet rock. How he'd spied the trail she'd never know, nor how he'd managed to row the width of the strait in such choppy waters. It seemed very clear to her that her course was set by an unseen hand, for Jared had survived, her baby had been safely delivered by her father, and they had a safe place toward which to flee. It was up to her to keep trusting in the protection they'd already benefitted from, and she intended to do just that.

Huffing from their exertion she stood by Jon's side as they scanned the plateau stretched before them. The island was much larger than she'd imagined, even larger than Carawyhin had been. Waves of soft dune grass swayed before them, and stars lit the black canopy of the sky. There were woods and scrub brush at the edge of the meadow, and the trees were stunted in growth no doubt from the winds. Micah struggled against his bindings until she kissed his cheek and cooed to him. His eyes drifted close, and she knew he was exhausted from their travels. Surely he would soon fall to sleep, for she had fed him beneath her heavy shawl as they surged across the water to this place.

"There's light coming from the wood over there," Jon stated, pointing to the forest off to their right. "Ready?"

She nodded and followed him with a grin. "Your senses are too keen," she commented. "Whatever would I do without you?"

He turned his head as they walked. "You'll have your husband to watch over you now," he said, his teeth flashing a white smile in the darkness.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile!" she said happily. "I'm sure you'll be relieved to be done with the job, but God bless you for it."

"I do confess to a longing to go home," he admitted, nodding toward the light shining through the trees. "And that must be yours."

Once in the forest they were shielded from the wind, and as they followed the faint trail a low built structure came into view. It appeared to be made of logs and stretched a width twice the size of the cabin that had been Jared's home as a child. At its center was a window where the lamp shone forth its light like a beacon across a sea of darkness. A soft mossy carpet greeted them as they paused before the small enclosure of the yard.

Jon stopped and they shook hands, then he nodded for her to go. She approached the steps and climbed onto the porch, her boots tapping upon the boards. At the door she paused a moment, then lifted her hand as she prayed it was the right place. Just as she knocked once it flew open and she caught her breath. Staring at the tall form lit from behind by the light, she swallowed and parted her lips.

"Jared?" she said, suddenly nervous but almost positive it was him. They stared at each other in silence for what seemed to be hours, then he bent forward and caught her up in his arms, lifting her and burying his face against the side of her neck.

"Thank God," he breathed, stiffening at the small cry they heard. Quickly setting her down he stared at her in shock as Micah's cries rose between them. He turned slightly and the light bathed the side of his profile. His brows shot up.

"Aileen?"

"Say hello to your son," she choked, tears in her eyes. Wishing she could see him more she slipped the shawl from her shoulder and unhooked the sling holding the baby. Then she lifted him toward his father and smiled. "His name is Micah—I hope you approve of the name."

His hand touched her elbow as he gently turned them toward the light. She studied his face, noting the scar that ran along his jaw and dipped toward his ear. There his hair brushed his collar, but his face looked clean shaven. She could smell the scent of the soap on his skin, and felt her gaze drawn to the place where his shirt lay half opened. His skin glowed like bronze in the lamplight, and when he pulled his gaze from Micah's face to look into her eyes she felt her heart pound wildly.

"I had no idea," he choked, glancing down to carefully take the baby. Cradling him against his chest, he traced the tiny cheek with one fingertip and swallowed with some effort. He looked up.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," he said just above a whisper. She touched his chest as he leaned down to kiss her. Raising her arms, she clung to him and he deepened the kiss. It was hot and hungry and she returned it with all the love she felt for him. His hand clasped the back of her head as she moaned against his lips.

"I love you," she breathed, clinging to him as Micah fussed, beating Jared's chest with his tiny fist.

"How I've missed you," he rasped, kissing her hungrily until she gasped in shock.

"I forgot about Jon!" she remembered, turning in his arms to look back. "I'm so sorry—Jon?"

They gazed into the darkness, seeing no one. "Uri's man, Jon?" Jared wanted to confirm.

"Yes," she breathed, looking up at him. "He's been our protector ever since you were captured!"

"Jon!" he called, handing her the baby. He rushed down the stairs and partway into the woods, coming back within moments. He spread his arms. "He must have left."

She waited until he came to put his arm around her. "I didn't have the opportunity to thank him."

Jared nodded. "He's eager to be on his way back home," he stated, lifting a brow at her saucy smile.

"Not as eager as I," she teased, tucking Micah against her side as he took her hint and lifted an arm in invitation.

"Do come in, milady," he said in a husky voice, "your palace awaits."

c. 2010 by Christine Levitt