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CHAPTER THREE

France

Spring, 1040 AD

Chantel stood silently before the open window of her bedroom. A fresh spring breeze drifted through, filling her senses with the soft, delicate scents of the forests surrounding her father’s castle.

It wasn’t spring that had her staring into the forest below though. It was the gentle green aura pulsating from the crystal at her breast. Warm, beckoning, it heralded the arrival of the men who were, even now, hidden beneath the canopy of trees below. Four days and nights it had taken them to travel through the forest to her father’s castle. Four nights that she and her sisters had been haunted, by ever increasing degrees, by the dreams and visions of the life that would come. Behind her, her sisters, Ariel, Caitlin and Arriane sat quietly, disturbed by the foreboding shadows that twisted and curled through their own, once clear, crystals. The sisters, all the Mistresses of the powers of the earth. Wind, Water, and Fire joined the heart of the Mother Stone, the Earth Stone, which Chantel wore herself. As Mistress of the Earth Crystal her power would always draw them together and give them greater strength. She was the key to their powers. Only with her own strength and knowledge would they find their own way among the secrets the crystals contained.

“If this is the answer to the danger surrounding us, why then have the shadows not lifted, Chantel?” Ariel spoke from behind her.

Ariel had questioned her at every turn these last months. She was the least trusting, and for the moment, the most bitter of the four women. Ariel was a warrior in her own right, made harder and tougher than the others due to the violence of her childhood. She feared the shadows, just as she feared the power. Chantel turned and met her violet gaze, smiling comfortingly at the chestnut haired warrior woman.

Ariel wore a gown of pale yellow silk with a deep violet, velvet tunic over it. It had been a chore getting her out of the leather breeches and plain linen shirt she usually wore.

“The crystals shall clear when our destinies are secured,” Chantel promised her.

“As Mistress of the Wind you will control much more than you know. You must learn the basics of knowledge before you begin your journey of control.”

“Ye make as much sense as ever, Chantel.” Caitlin was a proud Irish lass from the top of her fiery red hair to the pale green of her eyes. The Water Mistress was forever questioning and curious. She did not agree with the destiny Mother Earth had allotted her, nor was she pleased with the idea that her husband would be someone other than who she chose herself. Getting her agreement to Lora Leigh

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this had been a monumental task. Chantel knew, with a touch of sadness, that come morning Caitlin would forget all her objections. The warrior she had been promised to would control much more than her heart.

“Understanding will come in time.” It was Arriane, Mistress of Fire, whose patient tone ended the questions.

Her eyes were a sapphire blue, bold and bright in her pale face. Her long black hair flowed around her gown of smoke and over tunic of midnight, giving her an ethereal appearance.

“You sound like Father,” Ariel accused her as she adjusted the thin gold belt at her hips.

“Arriane is right though.” As Mistress of the Earth, Chantel knew better than all of them how accurate Arriane’s words were. “Now is not the time to question the shadows of our future. Are you all ready for the coming night?”

She spoke to them all, but her gaze lingered on Arriane the longest. Of all her sisters, Chantel knew that this, her youngest and most fragile sibling, would have the hardest way.

“I will be fine, Chantel,” she promised, one promise among many that her worried sister had received.

“He will learn your secrets,” Chantel warned her. A warning she had given many times. She wished the time was right to increase Arriane’s power, but Chantel knew she would need it herself for a while longer.

“They are not truly bad secrets though, are they?” Arriane questioned her, a shade of fear in her voice. “He should not hate me for long. Should he?”

“He’s a whoremonger and a bastard.” Ariel accused Arriane’s intended groom as she moved restlessly behind Chantel. “Father was insane to contract that alliance.”

Sadly, Chantel admitted the truth of her sister’s words, but in all fairness to her father, she knew it was an alliance Arriane was destined for before she had even taken her first breath.

The Mystic warrior she had been given to was the most bitter, and the least inclined to know the gentleness of the love he would one day feel for this fragile woman. He would bring her much pain before he realized it.

“I promise I shall be fine,” Arriane told them all softly, the confidence of her tone at odds with the shadows of fear in her eyes. “I know it will be difficult at first, but all will be well later. Right?” Imploring eyes were turned to the sister who held the knowledge, foresight, and control they were all trying to learn. It was to Chantel that they turned for guidance and reassurance.

“I promise you all,” Chantel whispered softly. “The day shall come when this spring shall be but a dream-like memory. Jonar shall be defeated and taken from our lands forever, and we shall live in golden laughter with our warriors.” Her hand Lora Leigh

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touched Arriane’s cheek briefly. “There is much pain ahead for you, dear sister, but your life shines brightest when our battles end.”

Unfortunately, Chantel knew that her pain would also be the bleakest.

“Then I shall be fine,” Arriane promised her with a sad smile. Chantel feared that Arriane held more knowledge than she revealed. In those deep blue eyes, Chantel glimpsed the fear, and the bitter resignation of what was to come. There was nothing she could do now at this time. The bargain had been struck, now the terms must be met. And payment would begin this night. Chantel gave her sisters one last gentle smile then took a deep, fortifying breath. The time was at hand to bring their destinies into the castle, and to face the battle to come. She alone knew the full ramifications of what she was doing, and she prayed to both God and to Mother Earth, that it would all be well in the end, as she had been promised.

“I will leave now and go to meet them. Await your husbands in the great hall. This night, I pray, shall bring us more comfort than our dreams have.”

The dreams had always left them shaky, reaching for a touch, a sigh that always seemed just out of reach. Dreams that haunted them in the darkness of sleep, men who reached for them, shattered cries of helpless desire echoing around them as the dreams receded.

As last night’s dream had done. Chantel’s body still pulsed with the warm glow of her warrior’s release, his shattered moans.

“Yes, by all means, let’s get it over with,” Ariel said derisively as she followed her sisters. “I’d enjoy sleeping in peace for a change.”

Chantel fought the tears that came from the edge of bitterness in her sister’s voice. Ariel was nearly shaking with her fears, and the bitter memories of her past. But of them all, Chantel knew that this sister would know the greatest love, the utmost gentleness from her warrior for all time.

As they left her room and made their way to the great hall, Chantel fought to keep her own fears at bay. She could not allow her sisters to glimpse her indecision, her fears that she had made the wrong choice. If they saw her own hesitation, then they would all become frightened of what was to come. She could not allow that. Chantel knew that future now depended on her and her alone. She could not allow mistakes to slow the way.

As Chantel entered the great hall, her father, Galen the sorcerer, met her at the bottom of the stairs.

He watched her silently, a frown marring his handsome face as his eyes flickered to the soft glow of the crystal she wore at her breast. The pure crystal had been magically inset with a perfect circle-shaped emerald in its center, from which an eerie glow pulsed steadily. Around it was positioned the sapphire half moon of Caitlin’s water power, a violet starburst for Ariel’s wind power, and a red ruby lightning bolt to represent Arriane’s power over fire.

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As the Earth Mistress, Chantel could call up all of the forces of the earth, but only her sisters could control them. She was the binding in the power, the strength of the others. She knew this, and often that burden was a terrible weight to bear.

“They are waiting,” Galen said softly. “Are you certain you wish to follow through with this, daughter? I do not know what you and Mother Earth have planned, but I will tell you I have a vague uneasiness concerning it.”

Chantel stopped, and laid her hand gently on his arm. This was her father, the man who had raised her, cared for her. His blood and his power were a part of her, and she could sense his fears as easily as she could sense those of her sisters.

“You feel you are losing the daughters who worship you, Father.” She smiled gently at his display of love. “You are gaining sons, you must remember this.”

Galen’s eyes narrowed on her.

“I have a feeling, daughter, you know much more than you have told me. It does not set well with me.” His gaze was centered directly on hers, and Chantel could feel his own great powers reaching to break through the shield the crystal afforded her. Its strength held though, with no hardship to herself. The crystal wrapped her in a force of power, holding her steady when she could feel her insides shaking with nerves.

“I love you, Father.” She reached up and kissed his smooth cheek as his arms went around her in a brief, fierce hug. “Be at ease. I promised you, did I not, that all would be well in the end?”

“It is what comes before that end that is beginning to worry me,” he told her as she stood back from him. “Be warned, Chantel, you cannot hide the truth from me forever.”

Yes, he would know soon, and when he did, she knew that his anger would be fierce, but his love would ensure his forgiveness. Chantel fought to remind herself that what she did, she did for all of them. What she did, she did to ensure the happiness and the peace they had been promised in the future.

“All will be well, Father, I promise you,” she swore. “Now, come, walk to the courtyard with me and I shall go collect our reluctant grooms.”

Chantel watched the smile that edged her father’s lips, and knew that her soft laughter had eased his heart.

“Not so reluctant, once they glimpse the beauty of my children,” he assured her.

“Each of you shall wrap those men so tightly around your dainty little fingers that they shall be unaware they had ever lived differently,” he accused her.

“Is this not the point?” She smiled back at him, though she knew he was aware of the dreams, the bond they had created within the souls of these men.

“Definitely, daughter, at least according to a woman.” He grinned as they left the hall and walked into the bright sunlight of the courtyard. There, the pure white filly he had chosen for Chantel the summer before last, awaited her. The horse’s color was nearly the same as the white blonde of her hair. This Lora Leigh

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match had so pleased her when her father had gifted her with the animal. That he had taken the time and care to find such a rare color showed his love of her. Raising the long length of her gown past her ankles, Chantel stepped up to the mounting stone and took her place on the soft lady’s saddle that had been placed on the horse. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage as she hooked her knee around the pommel, and accepted the reins from the guard who stood beside the gentle animal.

“Is everything ready to receive them?” she asked her father as she built her courage for the night ahead.

“Everything has been readied. Baths are being prepared now, food trays will be prepared after they enter the castle.”

“Then I will collect them,” she sighed. “I don’t know why they could not make this easier on me.”

Chantel turned the horse and headed through the acre-long courtyard that led to the castle’s outer walls, and the drawbridge that spanned a fog enshrouded moat. As she left the castle grounds, she carefully pulled her power around her, hiding her wayward thoughts, or any secrets that could be glimpsed by the Guardians. She trusted in the crystal’s shield, but she knew that outside the enchanted grounds of the castle, it could be weakened, its power breeched due to the immaturity of her sisters’

stones.

The others had not yet been shown their own unique gifts, nor the control needed. That would come in time. Until then, Chantel knew that she must be careful, and that she must always keep the shields carefully in place when leaving her father’s home. There were many enemies, and those who would see the great Galen weakened, or use his love for her against him. She must always be certain this did not happen. Destiny must be concluded. Fate must be satisfied. And the price of that power and that victory would be high, she knew.

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