"Lovely. Navarre, you must let me taste of her delicacies when you have tired of her."

"What did he say?" Kendra asked.

The edge of Navarre's mouth quirked up in a half smile. "He said you remind him of his sister."

"Oh."

"Where is Garrick?" Richard asked.

"'On yonder wall."

"You killed him?"

"Aye." Navarre bowed his head, unable to hide the pain he felt with the speaking of the words.

The king jerked his own head toward one of his soldiers and the man hurried away. "You and Garrick were friends for a long time," Richard said, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

"Aye. It was with deep regret that I ended his life."

"The problem is, Navarre, I have only your word for this." Richard lowered his voice so that his words would not reach the murmuring multitude gazing on with unabashed interest, though it was unlikely many spoke or understood the Norman tongue. "You have admitted to treason," he whispered, "you have admitted to killing the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"You have my word as well."

Navarre turned. Robin Hood, Earl of Locksley, outlaw, knight of the realm dropped to one knee and drew his sword, holding it out, hilt first to the king.

"Welcome home, sire," he said simply. "My sword is yours."

"Robin," Richard said, openly delighted. He took the sword and drew the man to his feet, clasping him to his chest in a tremendous bear hug. "Robin, you old rascal! It is so good to see you! From what I hear you have not been idle while I was away."

"No, sire," Robin said as the king ended the impromptu embrace and the outlaw stood respectfully in front of him. "I have had much trouble in Nottingham, from the sheriff and... others."

"Come now, Robin, you do not have to dance around it. It is common knowledge my brother John has been working his usual mischief. But what of this man? What of Navarre?"

Robin turned and gave the knight an even look, the expression in his blue eyes, for once, solemn and serious.

"This man has hounded me in Sherwood for the last year as he and Garrick plotted to unite the barons into a body of men who would help the new king make decisions. The new king was to be a man of the council's choosing."

"John?" Richard asked, his voice strangely calm, Navarre thought.

"Garrick wanted John because he knew he could control him. Navarre sincerely desired what was best for England and in fact, had another man in mind." Robin suddenly went down on one knee again. "I beg you for Navarre's life, sire."

Richard's face reflected his surprise and the noise of the crowd increased. "But why? You yourself have borne witness to his treachery."

"Not treachery," Robin said. "Perhaps bad judgment and the wrong allies, but not real treachery. Garrick believed you responsible for the death of the woman he loved."

"Woman?" Richard frowned. "What woman?"

"Talam," Navarre said softly. Kendra glanced at him sharply, obviously recognizing the name. "Do you remember her?"

The king stroked his beard thoughtfully as he gazed down at the man kneeling before him. "Aye, I remember. And you thought that I-but why?"

"Garrick convinced me you had her slaughtered along with the rest of Acre."

"Once Navarre learned that his quest for vengeance against you was undeserved by Your Majesty," Robin interjected, "he moved heaven and earth to stop Garrick, and to save your life. He saved mine as well."

"Stop, Robin." Navarre rested one hand on the man's shoulder. " 'Tis enough. I shall plead my own case."

Lifting his gaze, Navarre found it suddenly hard to meet Richard's eyes. The Lionheart. His king. Once his friend, now looking at him with suspicion, yet something more-hope, perhaps.

"May I rise, sire?" Richard nodded and Navarre stood, his shoulders stiff, his back straight. "I would beg your pardon, Your Majesty, if I could."

"You cannot?"

Navarre shook his head slowly.

Richard's face darkened, his jaw tightening. "Why not?"

"Because of Acre. Whether Talam was killed upon your orders or simply killed because of the massacre, it does not change what you did to those innocent women and children." He squeezed his eyes shut. "My God, Richard, I would never have believed it of you."

The king drew in a sharp breath and for an instant, Navarre felt the people around them, the trumpeters and the crowd and his own friends, fade, leaving only himself and the king in a protected bubble of mutual pain.

"Navarre, think you that I have not regretted that action a thousand times?" Richard whispered. "I am the king of England, but I am still a man." He lowered his gaze and Navarre had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. "Do you think I have not wakened many nights since that day, stricken by the haunting cries of children dying?"

"I know not what to think, nor have I since that day. It is why I joined forces with Garrick and John," Navarre said.

Richard lifted his chin then, his blue eyes snapping with the courage he was known for as he faced Navarre's quiet accusation.

"What I have done I have done in the best interests of my men, my country, and my God."

Their gazes locked and a great silence stretched between them until Navarre broke it, shaking his head. "No man has the right to slaughter innocents, not in the name of war, certainly not in the name of God."

"I am Richard," the man said softly, "King of all England, ordained by God Himself. I have every right."

Navarre felt the pain of his loss all over, recognizing once again that he could no longer follow this man, this king. But he still had to make sure Kendra was spared whatever punishment would be meted out to him. Navarre dropped back to one knee.

"Richard, I have done much to wrong you, this I acknowledge, but this day I have saved your life, as Robin of Locksley has testified in my behalf. In return, I ask only that you allow this woman to go free, unharmed in any way." He gestured toward Kendra.

"What? What are you saying?" Kendra said, her blue eyes dark with suspicion.

"I am telling him that you desire him greatly and want to warm his bed this night."

"Navarre!"

The king silenced her outburst with a single penetrating look and Kendra bowed her head, even as she continued to shoot the knight beside her looks that promised retribution.

"I have already granted much simply by allowing you to live," Richard said. "The moment I returned to England you became an outlaw."

"I know."

"However..." Richard paused and turned to Kendra, taking her hand. "Milady, your life is cheerfully granted, though it was never in danger."

Kendra returned his smile cautiously, darting a glare at Navarre. Richard returned his attention to the knight kneeling at his feet. "You ask nothing for yourself, Navarre de Galliard? No pardon? You do not beg for your own life?"

Navarre hesitated, then looked up at the king. "I once pledged my loyalty and my allegiance to you. By breaking that pledge I felt I lost my honor. In my heart, Richard, I feel I have now repaid my debt to you, but I will not beg for my life. I am ready to die for what I believe I had to do. If allowed to live I would take myself from these shores and never return, on that you have my oath."

"Either scenario would be a great loss to England, my friend," Richard said softly, "either your death or your exile. However, rise, Sir Navarre de Galliard."

Navarre stood, pulling a confused Kendra to her feet. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he put one arm around her.

Richard paused and the crowd grew deathly quiet, straining to hear the king's next words. At last, he spoke.

"By merit of what you have done this day, I pardon you, Navarre de Galliard, from the sentence of death, reducing your punishment to exile. I am sorry, my friend, he said in a lower voice, "but who is to say when your sorrow may rise again and seek revenge? You will be escorted to the border tomorrow." He turned then to Robin. "And you, Earl of Locksley, are pardoned for any crimes against England." Richard lifted his gaze and turned his dazzling smile on the crowd that was watching this dramatic pageantry with breathless anticipation. "And from this day forth," the king said loudly, "may the people of England, and her king, be reunited in mind, in soul, and in their hearts. My people, I have returned!"

"Lionheart! Lionheart!" The chant began quietly, then gained strength as one person after another picked it up and the endearment surged like a wave through the crowd, growing louder and louder until the voices dissolved into a mighty cheer.

Navarre stepped back, pulling Kendra with him, leaving the king to stand at the top of the steps alone. Richard's head was lifted in regal splendor and for a moment, Navarre felt the old pull, the old adoration, tug at his heart before it faded, leaving only a hollow echo of what had been.

As the crowd went wild, the sound deafening in its thunder, Navarre drew Kendra more tightly against him. It was over. Richard the Lionheart, King of all England, had come home alive.

Chapter Twenty-one.

"Exile? How dare that man exile you from England after you saved his life!" Kendra paced across the glen where they had camped, her arms folded across her chest, her red hair blowing as she walked.

"It matters not," Navarre said, squatting beside the camp-fire and tossing in small pieces of wood. "I had already made the decision to leave England if the king granted my life, even if he had not exiled me. Scotland, or Ireland perhaps will have use of a mercenary."

Kendra stopped in her pacing and spun around. The aftermath of the day and her own heroics were just beginning to catch up with her, as well as the realization that if she planned to make it to Avebury field by the full moon she'd have to leave almost immediately. Navarre had said nothing of his plans, until now. She'd hoped that when the king exiled Navarre, he would see it as a sign that he was meant to return with her to her own time. What was left for him in the past now? Apparently more than she had understood.

"Scotland? Ireland? Is that your plan?"

"Aye." Navarre stood and brushed off his hands. " 'Tis said that Ireland is a beautiful place and much in need of men to fight-"

"To fight!" Kendra threw both hands up in the air. "I would think you'd had enough fighting to last you a lifetime."

Navarre gave her a steady look, hands on his hips as they squared off at each other. "And so I have, but it is what I am, what I do."

She crossed to him, laying both hands on his chest, knowing her heart was in her eyes, and all her hopes as well. "But there's so much more you could do, Navarre. In my time you-"

"Your time?" He took a step back from her. "Then you did not intend-you-" He closed his eyes and nodded. "You still plan to return."

Kendra's eyes widened. "Have I said anything to make you believe differently?"

Navarre shook his head. "Nay, 'tis my own foolish thinking that led me to think- well, 'tis no matter." He walked around the fire, hands clasped behind his back. Kendra watched him, feeling his pain, echoing it inside with her own. His dark hair danced in the slight breeze as he paced. Finally he stopped and faced her. "When?"

"I must leave tomorrow, Robin says, if I'm to make it back to Avebury in time. He's sent a message to Cennach and Marian to meet us there."

Navarre nodded again. "Aye. I must leave tomorrow as well. I am to be escorted to the border."

"Navarre." The word was a whisper filled with every ounce of longing and pain within her breast. She took a deep breath and the scent of rosemary touched her throat even as the softness of the night and the sorrow of the moment touched her heart. They gazed into one another's eyes, and Kendra saw her own anguish reflected back to her in the Black Lion's golden eyes.

"Will you walk with me?" he said softly. She nodded and he smiled. Picking up his cloak, he tossed it around his shoulders, then drew her within its warm cocoon as well, sealing them together as they walked in silence. He led her away from the camp and after a time, Kendra saw they were approaching a thick copse of woods. Glancing up at Navarre, she realized he was not simply taking her on a casual walk, but leading her to a definite location.

"What's going on?" she said, coming to a halt. "Where are we going?"

"You will see." Navarre's voice was like dark velvet and Kendra felt a tremor of anticipation slip through her veins. "It is a surprise."

She allowed him to lead her into the moonlit woods. It seemed so long ago since they had touched, had melded their bodies together in mutual abandonment. If he had brought her here to the privacy of these woods for one last night together, she would give herself to him unashamedly, whether he agreed to return with her or not. She was leaving him, and she had not yet told him she carried his child.

Navarre led her into the shadowed place, helping her step over fallen branches and catching her when she stumbled over hidden rocks, until at last they arrived at a clearing, divided by a bubbling spring flowing through the center.

"This is lovely," Kendra said, gazing around at the picture-postcard scene.

"I found it one day quite by accident." Navarre guided her to the stream and knelt down. He looked up at her, her hand in his. "Come, kneel beside me."

Kendra frowned at the request, but something in his eyes compelled her to do as he asked. They knelt, and Navarre gazed down into her face, smoothing her hair back with tender fingers as soft tendrils drifted softly between them. His simple touch against her skin sent desire coursing through her and Kendra drew her breath in sharply, feeling the magic between them, knowing he felt it too.

"Are you determined to leave me?" he asked.

Kendra looked away, wishing she could turn her emotions away as easily. "Yes," she said, running her tongue across her lips as Navarre's fingertips began to trace a smooth path down the side of her jaw.

"Are you sure?" Navarre replaced the fingertips with his lips, touching her skin lightly with his tongue.

"Yes." Kendra shuddered at his touch. "But you can come with me, Navarre. Please, please come with me."

Abruptly his warmth fled as he stood and moved away from her. "Do you want to know the truth?" She nodded, apprehensively. He paced back and forth for a moment, then spun to face her. "I am a coward. I will not journey to your time because I am afraid."

"Afraid?" Kendra looked up at him, completely taken aback. She kept her voice light, however, almost teasing as she replied. "Navarre de Galliard afraid? I don't believe it."

"Believe it, for it is true." He walked around the clearing, hands behind his back, his face in shadow.

Kendra watched the moonlight glimmer on the blackness of his hair and as he lifted his golden eyes skyward, she was reminded again of the name Richard had given him, the Black Lion, and she remembered another night, when she had promised Navarre she was not afraid of the darkness inside of him. But she was afraid to live in his world, and did not blame him in the least if he felt the same about hers.

"How would your people ever accept me?" he said, almost to himself. "What would I do? How would we live? I have been a soldier all of my life but you were right-I am weary of the fight." He stopped and stared at her. "Does your time even have soldiers?"

"Unfortunately, yes, but Navarre, that isn't your only option." She jumped to her feet and hurried across the clearing to his side. "There are a hundred things you could do, that you'd be wonderful at and-"

"What things?" he asked suddenly, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at her with that demanding expression she had come to know so well. "Name one."

"You could..." Kendra stopped and stared at the man facing her, then looked- really looked at him-for the first time in a long time: long dark hair whipping across a face that could have been chiseled from stone. Golden eyes that saw the slightest injustice and demanded it be made right. A jaw meant to take on the world. Shoulders broad enough to carry that burden. Arms strong enough to fight for it. The man in front of her was a warrior. This was a man who needed a cause, a war, an enemy to battle. How could he ever be happy in her world? "You could be an American Gladiator," she finished, her heart sinking with the flippant words. "Or a romance cover model."

"I could be a what?" Navarre frowned down at her and shook his head. "You see? In your heart you know it is true. I would never fit into your world and I would be an embarrassment, a burden to you."

"Is that what I've been to you?" Kendra asked softly.