Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) by Grace Brannigan

Why put a spell of magic over a wooden toy and make it
come alive?"
    "You are telling me a toy dragon came to life through magic?"
    She nodded.
    "And why am I not surprised?" he asked, sighing.
"Like many things in this world it does not have a reasonable
explanation."
    "Dragons are well known here," she said with a
frown. "Although it is unusual for a fighter dragon to attack without
provocation."
    Iliana walked over to her life tapestry, seeing the crimson
stains on her hand, and now included in her tapestry was the figure of Camdork.
She leaned closer, gently touched the woven cloth and the scene became much
clearer.
    She looked back at him, frowning. In the tapestry he stood
beside her, the dragon writhing in his hand and behind him there appeared a
shadow, a second man.
    Iliana drew in a startled breath, suddenly understanding
what she was seeing. He had two faces. She was reminded she could not trust
him, no matter what he showed on the surface.
    "I am thankful for your assistance in keeping William
safe," she said stiffly, "but you must leave now." How could she
have forgotten even for a moment he was her enemy?
    Camdork moved over to the door, closed it and leaned back
against it. "I think not."

Chapter Seven
    Iliana placed William on the bed furs, then stood with her
feet braced between Camdork and her son.
    "Iliana, there is no need to hover over that child. He
is quite safe. I do not eat babies."
    "I have heard otherwise," she muttered,
maintaining her stance.
    Erik sighed. "My name is Erik Marcus Remington but I
used to go by the name Rufus LaTour." He waited, as if he expected her to
recognize his name.
    "I am not of this time. My ship was caught in a storm
and sailed into a harbor where I was forced to come here by Weinroof of
Camdork."
    She continued to watch him.
    "Camdork and I bear a similar appearance and I suppose
that's how he got the idea to send me here in his stead. He's up to something,
I sense it. Even some of his men think I am really him. There's a strange mix
of what is real and what is magic in this world." He shook his head,
fearing he wasted his breath, but he had to try. "I have begun an
investigation into Agnes' death. I would see whoever killed her brought to
justice." He put his hand up when she opened her mouth. "Yes, I know
you suspect me."
    "It is said she was meeting with you," Iliana said
fiercely. "Why continue with this farce? Surely," she added
sarcastically, "you are so highly favored by the queen there will be no
punishment in the killing of a mere servant girl."
    "But I did not kill her because I am not Camdork. I can
see your mind is set. When was the last time you saw Agnes?"
    Reluctantly, it seemed, she answered, "Last night after
the evening meal. Agnes put William to bed for the night. She was meeting
someone and I admonished her that it was late already, but she swore she would
be on time for her duties in the morning." She lifted her chin.
"Sadly, that did not happen."
    Iliana moved to sit on the bench beside her window
embrasure, her attention focused on the scene below. Her window faced to the
west, she could see clearly the small entourage making its way to the village.
Word of Agnes' death had passed quickly, as news was wont to do. "Poor,
dead Agnes." Iliana could not help but wonder what the villagers would say
now that Mandrak's prophesy had been fulfilled. Another innocent dead. He had
warned the people about such an occurrence; indeed, his dire warnings had
stirred the people for some months now. Iliana feared Mandrak's scheme to stir
unrest was working. If he succeeded in bringing everyone under his power, she
didn't know what she could do. The people might flee or disappear in the night.
Surely her seventy-five men at arms could not be expected to till the fields,
see to the grain, and cut the hay?
    Iliana looked away from the village, her eyes resting on the
sea in the far distance. Was this to be the end? Was Mandrak and his clutch of
witches destined to win?