Midnight Warrior (26 page)

“He saved me. He saved Malik.” She gestured to the people on the hillside. “He saved all of them. He seems a miracle to me.”

He had begun to seem a miracle to her also, Brynn thought wistfully. A miracle that had unfolded with such infinite slowness, she had not realized what she held in her hands until it had been tarnished and then dashed to the ground.

“He’s not a miracle,” she repeated, and turned away. “I’ve lingered too long here. I must go see to Alice.”

“No, let me.” Adwen threw off the blanket and struggled to he feet. “You have too much to do.”

“Sit down. You can barely stand.”

“I won’t have to stand to watch over Alice. I must no longer pamper myself. Malik is not well either, and he’s helping.” Adwen moved with halting steps toward Alice’s pallet. She smiled at Brynn over her shoulder. “Be at ease. I know nothing of healing, but I know all about childbearing. If she as much as twitches, I will call you.”

Brynn frowned worriedly as she watched her walk away. Adwen’s will was strong but her body was still weak. She was not so sure how much strain she could endure.

“How are you?”

She stiffened when she saw Gage on his horse a few yards away.

“Well enough.” She studied him and felt a surge of sympathy as she saw that even the smoke could not mask the lines of weariness marking his face. “Better than you. At least I’ve had a chance to wash the soot from my face.”

“I regret that I offend you.”

“You don’t offend me. Adwen says you’re a miracle. How can a miracle offend?”

“A miracle?” He smiled sardonically. “I’m sure you told her how mistaken she was.”

“Yes, but she didn’t agree with me. Adwen is becoming very stubborn.” She averted her glance. “We are not too bad here. There are four men with painful burns, but Alice is the only one I’m worried about. Her head is cut and I’m afraid inhaling the smoke may have done harm. She is with child.”

“Lord Richard’s?”

“Yes.”

“What a delightful fellow. He was the one who struck her down and left her to burn.”

“You know this?”

“LeFont said one of his men saw Alice following Richard, pleading with him. He turned and hit her and she fell against the wall.”

“Adwen says she believes he was the one who set the fire.”

“He did. He set the hall ablaze first and the stable burst into flames only minutes after he rode out of it and through the gates. There’s no doubt he meant to burn all of Redfern.” He turned his horse and nudged him forward. “I’m leaving a company of soldiers here for your protection, but don’t stray from camp.”

She went still. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

“After Lady Adwen’s dear husband. He can’t have gone far.”

Fear tore through her. She had thought him safe, and now he was riding again into danger. “You won’t find him. He knows the countryside too well.”

“One of LeFont’s men is an excellent tracker. We have a good chance of—”

“You
don’t
have a chance,” Brynn said fiercely. “What if the fire is only a ploy to rob you of shelter and lure you into the open? What if he’s gathering his vassals and planning to lie in wait to murder you?”

His eyes narrowed. “And what do you care if he does? Surely a murderer’s punishment should be murder itself.”

“Don’t you see? The violence goes on and on. It never stops.”

“And if I kill Lord Richard, will that be your fault too?”

“Yes, for I brought you here.”

He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “You must have a talk with God someday. You evidently think you bear a common responsibility for all of mankind.” He nudged his horse forward. “If I killed your husband, it
was my doing and mine alone. If I kill Lord Richard, it will be my responsibility. My will, my act. You have nothing to do with it.” He lifted his hand. “LeFont!”

He galloped down the hill with LeFont and the soldiers following.

“You are alive,” Alice whispered. “I thought you dead, my lady.”

“Ah, you’re awake.” Adwen smiled down at her. “Brynn will be pleased. She was worried about you. I’ll call her.”

“No!” Alice’s hand reached out to stop her. “Wait, please. I would talk to you.”

“Not now. You’ve been hurt and must rest.”

“I tried to stop him,” Alice said hoarsely. “He had a torch and I knew … I saw him lock the door and I ran after him. I’ve sinned against you, but I would never—”

“Hush.” Adwen’s fingers pressed against the other woman’s mouth. “You have not sinned against me.”

“I have fornicated with your husband. I bear his child.”

“I know. I heard you tell Brynn.”

“You did? But you said nothing.”

“Because there was nothing to say. It is you who have been sinned against.”

Alice shook her head. “I confessed to the priest
and he said that the sin was mine, that I had tempted Lord Richard.”

“Did he?” Adwen’s lips tightened. “And the good father told me that my sin was that I was not a dutiful and submissive wife, or God would grant me a child. It seems that women are the root of all iniquity in this world and men innocent as the Virgin Mary.”

“The priest told you that?” Alice shook her head. “It is not true. No one could have been kinder or more docile than you.”

“Docile.” Adwen tasted the sound of it. “It is a pale, weak word.… I have no liking for it.” She squeezed Alice’s hand. “And I think we have both been too docile in the past.”

“It is the way of women.”

“It is the way men tell women that they should be.” Adwen’s gaze went to Brynn across the camp. “Brynn is not docile. Perhaps we should learn from her.”

“You do believe me?” Alice asked. “It was never my wish to—”

“I believe you.” Adwen gently stroked the hair back from Alice’s face. “You’ve always been kind to me, Alice. Why should I think you meant me harm?”

“The child …” Alice rushed on, “I don’t know why God gave me this child and denied you. It will only be a burden to me, and you wanted it so.”

“Yes, I did want a babe.” That was the only clear truth in her life at Redfern. It would take time to sort out the other truths from lies, but the bearing of a child had not been only duty. When she had been with child, she had been filled with wonder and joy, and when they were taken from her there had been darkness. “A child is a wondrous gift.”

“Perhaps if you are the lady of a great lord.” For the first time a note of bitterness threaded Alice’s voice. “Not if you’re a servant with neither a husband nor
means to provide. Then a babe is only a shameful burden.”

Adwen was feeling shame herself. She had been thinking of her own sorrow, her problems, and this woman was beset by a far worse fate. It was a cruel world for a woman who broke the rules set by Church and man even when forced to do so. “The shame is not yours, it is Richard’s,” Adwen said. “And as for a burden … yes, a babe is always a burden.” But, unlike Alice, it would have been a burden Adwen would have accepted with joy even if it were accompanied by shame.

Adwen looked down at the burning Redfern. “But I’m no more a great lady than you. I have no husband, no father, no home. Perhaps you are even better off than me. As a child I was taught to run a household, but you have knowledge of how to earn your bread. Such knowledge can be a great treasure. I envy you.”

Alice was looking at her doubtfully.

“Truly,” Adwen said. “Will you share your knowledge with me? I have nothing to give you in return. I don’t even know if I will be quick or slow. I think when I first came to Richard I was not too stupid, but he did not want me to think.” He had wanted nothing but submission and her body, she thought bitterly, and she had given until he had drained her. “I might even be more of a burden than a babe.”

“Oh, no,” Alice said eagerly. “It will be my pleasure to help you, my lady.”

“You must call me Adwen, and it will also be my pleasure to help you.” Adwen smiled. “When I find a way.”

Alice looked abashed. “Adwen?”

“I told you I was no longer a great lady.” Adwen rose to her feet. “I’m only a woman like you, and we must take care of each other. Now, close your eyes and
rest. I’ll go and get Brynn. She will want to see how well you are doing.”

Alice obediently closed her eyes.

So meek. Adwen felt a burst of anger as she started across the camp. Alice had always been timid and meek and had been cruelly used. Was it the fate of all gentle human beings to be so abused?

“You are disturbed,” Malik said as he appeared at her side. “You should not have chosen to care for Alice. I would have done it.”

“Why shouldn’t I have—” At first she had been so absorbed, his meaning was not clear. Then she understood and all the anger stored within her was set free. “You think my feelings are too tender, my soul too sensitive to wait upon my husband’s leman?”

“I did not say—”

“You meant it.” She did not look at him as she strode away. “You’re like all men, you think we’re weak and without strength. Well, it is you who
make
us weak and rob us of our strength. You use our bodies and dull our minds. You think it right to beat us and make us serve you, to give us children and then desert us.”

“I am truly a wicked fellow,” Malik said solemnly. “And clearly grievously forgetful. I do not even remember giving you a child. What did we name it?”

She glared at him. “You know I didn’t mean—” She broke off as she saw his bland expression. Incredibly, she suddenly felt a smile tugging at her lips. “Beelzebub.”

“It was a boy?”

“A demon, as any babe of yours would be.” Her smile disappeared. “You see, you think so lightly of us that you pay no heed to my words.”

“When they apply to me, I will give them every concern. But you are not talking to me; you are talking to your husband.” He smiled gently. “So, instead, I will ignore this venom you are spewing and try to make you
smile again. Perhaps, if I am fortunate, you will even laugh. You need to laugh, Adwen. Laughter is good.”

When he smiled he was more beautiful than any man she had ever seen. His face lit with warmth and it was like watching a sunrise. She stared helplessly for an instant before she forced her glance away. “Laughter is for the jesters in the hall.”

“Shall I be your jester, Adwen? Shall I serve and delight you? I can, you know.”

She looked back at him and instantly wished she had not. Sunrise again. Her pace quickened as she approached Brynn, and she looked straight ahead. “I want nothing from you. I want nothing from any man.”

“I like the idea of a boy, but Beelzebub is not a good name. We will call him Malik, after me.”

A boy as beautiful as this man. She felt a sudden pang of sorrow. Not for her. Never for her.

“What is wrong? What did I say?”

“Nothing.”

He reached out and stopped her. “It is not nothing when I cause you pain. It is everything.”

“I am barren,” she said haltingly. “I cannot bear children.”

“With your husband. If there is fault, perhaps it is with him.” He puffed out his chest. “Now, since I have no faults …”

“What are you saying? The fault is always with the woman.”

“In my country we do not believe that is always true.”

“You don’t understand.” She broke free and backed away from him, her voice hoarse with pain. “They die. They’re mine for a while and then they die.”

“I do understand.” His voice was soft as he held out his hand to her. “Come to me. Let me be your friend. Let me share your sorrow.”

She wanted to take his hand. He was not like

Richard, who had blamed her and made her ashamed of her body. Her husband had never shared her sorrow when she had lost the babes, never even visited her until she was well enough to try again.

Yet even if she found she could trust Malik, he would only try to take away this new freedom she had been granted with Redfern’s destruction. The comfort he offered would come at too high a price.

She turned and almost ran the remaining short distance to where Brynn was standing on the side of the hill.

“Alice is awake,” she said breathlessly.

Brynn started to smile and then stopped as she saw Adwen’s expression. “What’s wrong? Doesn’t she have her senses?”

“She seems very clear.”

Brynn looked over her shoulder. “Is Malik—”

“I told Alice you’d come to her,” she interrupted. “But when you’re finished, call me and I’ll go and sleep beside her.” She frowned. “You should sleep yourself. Alice isn’t the only one who bears wounds.”

“When I’m finished here.” Her attention shifted to the trail down which Gage Dumont had disappeared a few hours before. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? They should be back soon.”

She was worried about the Norman, Adwen realized. Poor Brynn, so much inner conflict and pain. Just when her own way was becoming clear to her, Brynn’s path was beset with obstacles. “They went after Richard?”

Brynn nodded as she continued to scan the trail.

“You won’t make them come sooner by staring down that hill,” she said gently.

Brynn turned away. “I know. I’m being very foolish.” She started across the camp toward Alice’s pallet.

Malik was already kneeling beside Alice, Adwen saw. She couldn’t hear his words, but she suddenly heard