by Jody Hedlund
“I cannot ignore these men.”
“They are the enemy.”
“Holy Scripture and our Lord Himself implores us to love our enemies and bless those who persecute us.”
Adelaide was quiet for a moment, hopefully contemplating the Lord’s command. Then she sighed. “We need to be on our way.”
“We can spare a few more minutes, can we not?”
Again, she was silent. I could sense her men watching our interaction, waiting to see what the queen would decide. “Very well, Maribel,” she said. “I shall spare you half an hour longer. King Ethelwulf may still have additional men in the area, and we cannot let down our guard.”
I wanted to protest that I needed more time than that, but before I could, she knelt beside me. “It is not long, but with my aid, you will be able to accomplish more.”
Her intense gaze met mine. There I saw a mixture of both compassion and kindness. “Instruct me on what to do, and I shall be your assistant.”
My heart swelled with gratefulness. And for the first time since meeting my sister, I knew I’d love her. Heretofore, I’d seen her as a strong leader and a fierce warrior. Now I saw her as a wise and caring queen to whom I would gladly pledge my life.
Side by side, we worked to bring comfort to the wounded enemy soldiers. I quickly cleaned and stitched gashes, set bones in place, and bandaged lacerations. I cast Edmund a thankful smile when he followed us, giving sips of water to those too wounded and weak to fend for themselves.
When Christopher called for us to go, I rose and left the injured men behind even though it pained me to do so. Some would not last long without further medical attention. But I couldn’t delay our entire company, especially since Adelaide had already compromised for me. I’d done all I could and must be content with that.
For a long while, Edmund and I rode silently. In some ways, I was in shock over all I’d seen, never having witnessed so much violence and bloodshed. A part of me was saddened by the destructiveness of men toward each other, the ease with which they could harm and slay one another, along with the bitterness and hatred that could fester.
Edmund’s face, taut with hatred, haunted me. I’d only ever seen him calm and in control of his emotions. So, having witnessed the killing glimmer in his eyes, the bitterness in his voice, and the coldness with which he’d stood by and watched Barnabas maul the captain was so unexpected I wasn’t sure I knew my friend anymore.
I shifted in order to glimpse his profile. The muscles in his jaw and chin were taut and his lips pursed into a tight line. His expression contained a hardness that hadn’t been there before, as if he, too, had been changed by what he’d experienced today.
As if sensing my attention upon him, he dropped his gaze to my face. I was afraid of what I’d see in his eyes and was happy the green radiated with warmth. When he managed a smile, albeit a small one, my happiness expanded.
I smiled in return. “You are not too peeved with me?”
His expression finally gentled. “I’m proud of you. You not only showed great courage in the face of danger, but you also gave love and compassion to the king’s men, who have offered you nothing but threats.”
“‘It is more blessed to give than to receive,’” I said, quoting one of the many Scripture verses Sister Agnes had taught us.
He reached for my hand, and I gladly welcomed his hold, although I couldn’t stop from thinking about the way he’d wound his arm around my waist earlier in the day and the way he’d spoken in my ear, when his intimate tone and breath had caused my insides to tremble.
Our pace was less brutal than yesterday’s, but we still rode with urgency. The cold winter wind had given way to a warmer breeze, and with the brightness of the sun overhead, it was easy to believe spring was drawing nigh, although in the Highlands, the weather could change without notice.
I reclined against him, closed my eyes, and let the rays of rare sunshine warm my face.
Edmund’s fingers laced through mine. “I almost lost you,” he whispered against my temple.
When the captain had dragged me off, I’d thought my fate sealed, that I would have to marry King Ethelwulf’s son. “Thank you for coming after me,” I whispered. “You saved me from having to get married.”
Edmund tensed. “Maribel,” he said, hesitantly. “I spoke with Christopher last night.”
“I like him. He is kind and sweet to Adelaide.”
“He’s also shrewd and knowledgeable.”
“Together they make an impressive ruling team.”
“Then you’re willing to follow their leadership and support their cause?”
“Of course.” Adelaide had more than proven herself to me. After all the risks she’d taken riding into Mercia to rescue me, how could I not follow and support her?
Edmund took a deep breath. “Even if that means you must get married?”
“There is no need,” I replied. “Once I become a nun, I can support Adelaide, perhaps even more so.”
“Maribel,” Edmund said, his voice wistful, almost sad. “After speaking with Christopher and understanding what is at stake, I believe your destiny is intertwined with your sisters. You must work with them, as Sister Katherine indicated, to restore Mercia.”
“I shall do so gladly.”
“Then will you gladly do what you can to keep Adelaide’s reputation and the cause unblemished from any taint of misconduct?”
As I realized what he was asking of me, a twine seemed to wrap around my middle and form a tight knot. “I thought you understood how I felt. And I thought you would support me.”
“I do understand.” He bent in so that his breath tickled the loose strands of my hair at my neck. “But Mercia is suffering. The people are languishing. Perhaps God is calling you to a greater healing purpose as a princess than you can accomplish as a nun.”
I let Edmund’s words settle inside me. I sifted and sorted them. And he pressed no further. As sensitive as always, he knew I needed time to think and pray.
By the end of the long day, when we neared the outer edge of the Highlands, I’d laid to rest my plans and dreams of becoming a nun and physician. Edmund—and Christopher—were right. I might not be able to practice the medicine I loved to the extent I’d always wanted to. But I had to acknowledge I’d been born for something greater—healing a nation that was dying under a dark grip and saving a people trapped and afflicted and scarred with festering wounds.
When we stopped to make camp for the night, I spent the last of the daylight hours doctoring those who’d been injured in the battle. I was nearly out of my healing lotion by the time I approached Edmund where he helped to roast the prey Sheba had caught, along with a buck one of the expert bowmen had shot.
The food rations Edmund and I had split earlier in the day hadn’t been nearly enough to satisfy the rumble of hunger in my belly. And now the smoky waft of roasting meat beckoned me.
“Your turn,” I said, lifting my small crock. With Darien yet weak from his injuries, surely Adelaide couldn’t object to my tending to Edmund’s wounds—at least not tonight.
“I am faring well enough.” In the twilight, his lean but wiry frame stood out against the backdrop of the dark hills. His windswept hair and unshaven face lent him a ruggedness that was different, though not unpleasant.
“I shall not take no for an answer.” I couldn’t stop from admiring the deftness of his movements and the way his body was built. He was a good-looking man in every way, and my stomach fluttered with a strange desire for him.
At the waywardness of my thoughts and longings, a flush infused my cheeks. Attempting to put on the physician role that would make me impartial to my patients, I tugged him away from the roasting spit he’d put together and made him sit. He didn’t resist as I cleaned the wound on his neck and then tended his shoulder. I worked in silence, not quite sure how to bring up the issue from earlier and yet knowing he was too kind to push me to talk before I was ready.
As he stood to return
to the fire pit, I stopped him with a touch to his arm. “Edmund,” I said softly, the darkness of the oncoming evening giving us some privacy. “I am prepared to accept a new future.”
He hesitated. “Are you certain?”
I nodded. “I shall miss the life I thought I would have. But if this is what God desires, then He will help me find contentment.”
Edmund searched my face. When his shoulders slumped a moment later, I guessed he hadn’t found what he’d been looking for. I wanted to apologize, but I had no idea for what.
“Am I making the right choice, Edmund?” I asked, as uncertainty rushed in.
“I wish we had the freedom to make whatever decisions we wanted,” he replied. “But sometimes life chooses a course for us, and then we must make the best of what we’re given.”
“Do you not desire to marry me, then?” I’d assumed he was willing, had perhaps even wanted it. Had I read more into his words and actions than he’d intended? Was it possible he was marrying me out of obligation too?
“I’d hoped you’d learn to love me first,” he whispered, almost as if he was embarrassed to say the words. “But since that doesn’t appear likely, I’ll pray that perhaps someday you will.”
“I do love you.” I reached for his hand and clasped it.
He pried his away. “Of course you love me, Maribel, as a friend and my sister. And perhaps you even harbor some affection for me. But you do not love me the way I’ve always loved you.”
Colette’s words came back to haunt me. She will never love you the way you love her. She is too caught up in her own life to think about anyone else. Colette hadn’t believed I’d be able to make Edmund happy. Was she right?
“I shall try, Edmund.” I took hold of his arm, clinging to him. “I shall do all I can to make you happy.”
He didn’t pull away again, but I could sense a distance between us that hadn’t been there before, that perhaps his disappointment had taken up residence in that space.
“Please,” I said. “I could not bear to earn your censure or to have things change between us.”
He sighed and then brushed his free hand across my cheek. “None of this is your fault. Have no fear. We’ll get along as we always have. I promise.”
I smiled up at him, hopeful. “Good. If I must marry, I can think of no one else I would want to spend my life with than you.”
I meant my words to reassure him, but again, as before, his shoulders deflated. And this time when he moved to return to the fire, I didn’t stop him.
A short while later, as I huddled in my bedroll next to Adelaide in our tent, she grasped my hand. “I was proud of you today, Maribel. You showed love to our enemy and urged me to do the same. And I thank you for the reminder.”
The darkness of the night prevented me from seeing her face, but I could feel her warmth beside me. I relished this time we had before falling asleep, these few minutes of conversation. She’d shared about her life growing up with the Langleys and everything that had transpired last summer after Sister Katherine had visited her with the news regarding her royalty. Likewise, I’d told her all about my childhood with the sisters at the convent.
“I have resigned myself to giving up my pursuit of becoming a nun,” I whispered. “And I shall willingly marry Edmund.”
She didn’t reply. I’d come to understand from our conversations as well as from watching her that she valued wisdom above all else. She’d confided in me how she’d prayed the ancient words of King Solomon, that God would bless her with the gift of wisdom more than wealth, health, and valor.
From everything I’d witnessed, I knew God had indeed answered her prayers. Adelaide acted shrewdly and decisively and justly, with more wisdom than even the wisest of the nuns I’d known.
After a long pause, she finally replied. “If your healing abilities are truly a gift from God, let us pray He will open a way for you to use your gift no matter where you are or who you are with.”
My fingers slipped to my rosary. I would pray, for it was all I had left.
Chapter
19
Edmund
We crossed into Norland by midday. Although the terrain remained rugged and rocky, our gradual descent from the higher elevations was marked by warmer air and an easier trail. Eventually, we passed through the timberline that was thick with evergreens and a few deciduous trees.
The knights were lighter in spirit for prevailing in their mission to find Maribel and for defeating Ethelwulf’s forces yesterday. There was also plenty of talk about the feasting that would occur once we reached Brechness, Norland’s capital city.
I empathized with the plight of the soldiers, for my stomach ached with the need for sustenance. However, my heart ached much more.
You saved me from having to get married. Maribel’s declaration reverberated in my head. It was a constant reminder that even if she’d given up her plans for becoming a nun and resigned herself to marrying me, she didn’t want to be married—not to me, not to anyone.
Yes, she loved me and would do her best to be content with our marriage. She wasn’t the type of woman to be spiteful or bitter, and she would try to find the positive in whatever circumstances came her way. But her love and her desire would never be equal to mine, no matter how much I might try to win her affection and her heart.
I had to resign myself to the reality that had been there all along. Although part of me ached for more, I could do nothing less than go on loving her, even though she might never reciprocate the same way. I’d continue to accept her for who she was, and I’d have to be satisfied with what she was able to give me, even if it would never be enough.
“Upon our arrival in Brechness, you will be married with all haste,” the queen said in answer to Maribel’s question about our upcoming nuptials as we rode next to the royal couple. “No later than the day after we arrive.”
“So soon?” Maribel’s question contained a note of distress that pricked my already sore heart.
“Yes. Then, once we have time to make the arrangements, we shall host a feast and dance for all the people to meet you.”
“Are there many who have escaped from Mercia and now live in Norland?” Maribel asked.
“Those who openly support the rebellion have had to flee Ethelwulf’s wrath,” Christopher said from where he sat behind Adelaide. “But we know of many who remain in Mercia who will join with us when the time comes to march against Ethelwulf.”
My grandfather had remained when he should have left. Anger burned like acid in my gut every time I remembered Theobald’s confession of recently killing him.
“When shall we march against King Ethelwulf?” Maribel shifted against me in the tight confines of the saddle. The movement only made me want to wrap my arms around her, but I fought the longing.
“Our army is growing larger and stronger,” the queen said. “But until we have the treasure, we have decided not to proceed.”
“What difference will the treasure make?” I asked. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my nostrils and brought back dormant memories of riding through the forestland with my father and grandfather.
“We do not know exactly,” Adelaide responded. “But according to the ancient prophecy, a young ruler filled with wisdom will use the ancient treasure to rid the land of evil and usher in a time of peace like never before seen or ever seen again.”
“So you believe you must have the treasure in hand before you can rid Mercia of evil?” I pressed.
The queen nodded. “Sister Katherine also indicated the three of us sisters must work together if we hope to defeat King Ethelwulf.”
“Perhaps if your scouts follow Sister Katherine, she will lead us to Emmeline.”
“Unfortunately, we have lost her trail. She is skilled at evasion and masking her scent. As such, she likely will not allow us to find her again until the time is right.”
On the northern breeze, I caught the distant but urgent communication of a horse. I sat up straighter and stra
ined to listen.
“What is it?” Maribel asked, twisting to watch my face.
I peered ahead, but couldn’t see the creature yet. Now that we were moving into the open country, the ground had leveled, and we’d left the rocks and snow behind. Even most of the evergreens were behind us, too, as we entered the fertile farming plains that Norland was known for. This time of year, the ground was fallow and hard. But in a few weeks, the peasants would be out plowing in preparation for the spring planting.
The horse was still too far away to understand completely. Nevertheless, I sensed its urgency once more. “I believe a messenger is riding to us from the northeast.”
“Then someone is coming from Brechness.” Christopher narrowed his eyes upon the fields to the north. “Can you estimate the distance away?”
I listened again and shook my head. “Perhaps a quarter of an hour, maybe less.”
I was right. Within a few minutes, a rider appeared on the treeless horizon, racing at full speed.
“A courier bearing King Draybane’s standard,” Christopher said. “Something must have happened for the king to send a messenger.”
The queen and Christopher kicked their steed into a gallop and left us behind.
The level fields were dotted with clusters of trees that signaled creeks flowing out of the foothills. Everywhere we looked, the signs of life and color contrasted with what we’d known in the Highlands, and Maribel had been excitedly exclaiming over everything all day.
I thought back to her question the day we’d gone out to find valerian and had found Sister Katherine instead—the day that had changed everything. Maribel had asked me if I’d ever considered life beyond the Highlands. I’d told her I never wanted to be anywhere except with her.
It was still true. But a new discontentment had begun to settle inside me since our conversation of the previous evening. I wanted her to feel the same way I did. Even though I knew it wasn’t fair of me to expect it from her, even though I’d stated my intentions—to her and to myself—to be satisfied with friendship, I still couldn’t stop from wishing she never wanted to be anywhere except with me.
