Fire Song

by Catherine Coulter

  “ ’Tis odd,” he continued, looking back at Kassia. “The little chick was afraid for you.”

  Blanche laughed, but it was a grating mirthless sound. Still your ridiculous guilt, you fool, she chided herself. The girl would certainly be better off back with her father. Graelam had made her life a misery. Blanche was but doing her a favor. Her eyes did not quite meet Dienwald’s as she said, “Kassia believes me her friend. You will find her something of a fool. But you will not harm her.”

  “Oh, but that is the rub, is it not? Whatever am I to do with her?”

  “Return her to her doting father,” Blanche said sharply. “The necklace is worth your trouble to send her to Brittany. There is no reason to kill her or harm her in any way.”

  Dienwald smiled. “Do you not fear that Graelam will go to Brittany to fetch her? Perhaps he will believe her story that she was kidnapped.”

  “Nay. I know him. His pride will not allow him to go after her. In the unlikely case her father demands that she return to Wolffeton, he will never believe her foolish story. Never, I promise you. And you, of course, my lord, would not be so . . . careless as to tell her who you are.”

  “Nay, I would not be so careless, Blanche. But what if her father forces her to return? Will that not spoil your plans, my lady?”

  Blanche smoothed the sleeve of her tunic. “I am not certain her father will force her back. But in any case, it will be a long time before Graelam learns that she is in Brittany. He cannot stand the sight of her. He treats her like a servant. She is nothing to him. He will have the marriage set aside quickly enough when he learns that she lives. The Duke of Cornwall will help him.”

  “And you will wed him?”

  “Of course.”

  “When you return to Wolffeton, my lady, what will you tell Lord Graelam?”

  “Why so much interest in my plans, my lord?”

  Dienwald shrugged. “I have no desire to have the powerful Graelam de Moreton breathing down my neck, all through the carelessness of a woman.”

  “I will tell him that his wife hired two men to help her escape from him. She feared killing me, and thus I was bound and left.”

  “And, of course, managed to free yourself before you came to harm. It would seem that there is nothing more to discuss. I suggest, my lady, that you scream a bit, for the benefit of the little chick.”

  Blanche glared at him, then shrugged. “Perhaps you are right, though I do not see that it matters much.”

  Dienwald was quiet a moment, as if in deep thought. “Scream, my lady. One never knows.”

  Kassia heard Blanche’s frantic screams. “No!” she cried, and would have run toward the copse, but one of the men grabbed her arms and held her still.

  Some minutes later, she saw the man come striding toward her, straightening his clothes. She paled, realizing what had happened, and moaned softly in her throat.

  He stopped in front of her.

  “You . . . filthy animal! How could you harm a helpless woman!” She tried to struggle free of the man’s hold.

  “Perhaps,” Dienwald said softly, frowning even as he spoke at her heartfelt cries, “you should think of yourself for a moment.”

  Kassia looked up at him. She had remembered his face set in lines of cruelty. But he didn’t look cruel now. His hair, brows, even his eyes, were the color of the coarse-grained brownish-gray sand on the beach. There was even a line of freckles over his high-bridged nose. He was not a large man, she realized, not overpoweringly large like Graelam, but he was built solidly, and she knew she would be no match against him.

  “What did you do to Blanche?” she whispered.

  “I raped her,” he said quite calmly, “and let her go.”

  He watched her eyes grow large with fear; then she lowered her lashes and stiffened her shoulders. “What will you do with me?”

  “We shall see, little chick,” he said. Dienwald felt an unwonted surge of guilt at the miserable show of defiance from this pitiful little scrap. “Come, we ride now . . . No, you will not ride your mare, you will sit before me.”

  He would rape her, she thought. But what did it matter? Nothing mattered.

  She allowed him to lift her in front of him. His destrier pranced to the side, disliking the extra weight, but Dienwald spoke softly to him, and he quieted.

  They rode in silence for an hour or more.

  “Who are you?” Kassia asked at last.

  “You may call me Edmund,” he said lightly. “And I will call you Kassia. That is your name, is it not?”

  She nodded, and he felt her soft curls graze his chin.

  He frowned over her head, his eyes between his destrier’s ears. She had not once mentioned her powerful husband. It was as Blanche said. Graelam despised his wife, and she knew it well.

  “Your husband, why was he not with you?” he asked abruptly. “It is not wise for two women to ride unescorted.”

  She laughed. The man who had raped Blanche and stolen her was lecturing her! “My husband,” she said, not hearing the helpless bitterness in her voice, “did not know we would be riding. ’Twas my fault. We are still on my husband’s land. I thought no one would dare . . .”

  “You were wrong,” Dienwald said shortly. “And you are something of a child in your reasoning, are you not?”

  “ ’Twould appear so,” Kassia said.

  “And also a shrew?”

  He looked into her face as he spoke, and saw the incomprehension widen her expressive eyes. “A shrew,” she repeated blankly. She sighed deeply. “Mayhap I am. My lord makes me so angry sometimes. I fear that I am sometimes unable to moderate my feelings or my words.”

  Why was she speaking to him as she would a person she had known all her life, and trusted? It was idiocy. She was an idiot.

  She did not realize that two tears had welled up in her eyes and were trailing down her cheeks.

  “Stop it!” Dienwald growled at her. “I have given you no reason to cry.”

  She blinked, and knuckled her eyes with her fists, as would a child. “I am sorry,” she said. “I am afraid.”

  He cursed softly and fluently, some of his words more coarse and descriptive than Graelam’s.

  “Will you not tell me where you are taking me?”

  “Nay. Keep your tongue behind your teeth, my lady. We have some distance to go before we rest for the night.” His actions did not match his harsh words. His arm curved more protectively around her slender waist. “You are tired. Sleep now.”

  To her befuddled surprise, she did, nestled against Dienwald’s chest. He heard her soft, even breathing, and realized that she was stirring feelings in him that he had thought well dormant for years now. He was a fool, he thought, to be drawn to this pitiful little female.

  She awoke with a small cry on her lips, and struggled briefly against him until he said, almost unwillingly, “I will not hurt you, little chick. We will stop for the night.”

  “Why do you call me ‘little chick’?”

  He gave her a twisted smile, lifted his hand, and lightly ruffled her curls. “Because your hair is soft and downy and you are small and warm.”

  For an evil man, Kassia thought, growing more bewildered, he was not behaving as he should.

  Dienwald called a halt some minutes later. He dispatched his men to hunt their dinner, and motioned Kassia to sit quietly beneath a tree. He watched her fidget a moment, then said curtly, “The ride was long. Go relieve yourself.” His eyes narrowed cruelly. “Do not attempt to flee me, or it will be the worse for you.”

  She believed him, just as she believed Graelam.

  It was not long before she was helping Ned, a short, wiry man who looked as fearsome as her childhood images of the devil, pluck and prepare the rabbits. She stared at him when he said in a kind voice, “Nay, lass, ye cannot skewer the beast like that. Watch.”

  She sat back on her heels, blinking at his seeming kindness. The smell of the roasting rabbits filled her nostrils, and her stomach growled loudl
y. She knew that she should likely be fainting or at least wailing in fear, but oddly enough, it did not occur to her to do so. Whatever they wished to do with her would be done. It was not in her power to stop them.

  “Eat, little chick,” Dienwald said, handing her a well-cooked morsel. He ate silently beside her, saying nothing. Afterward, he left her a moment, his eyes a silent threat, and spoke to his men. They moved away, to protective positions, Kassia supposed, about their small camp. The evening was warm and the sky clear. The skimpy meal sat well in her stomach. She waited.

  Dienwald stood over her, his hands on his lean hips. “Well, little chick, do you think it time I raped you?”

  18

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide and helpless upon his face. “I wish you would not,” she said.

  “Then what should I do with you?” he asked irritably.

  She moistened her lips with her tongue. “I do not know.”

  He eased down beside her, and sat cross-legged, staring into the dying fire. “Nor do I,” he said more to himself than to her.

  He turned to face her. “How came you to wed Graelam de Moreton?”

  She gazed at him uncertainly a moment, then shrugged inwardly. There was no reason not to tell him. “He did not wish to wed me,” she said. “ ’Twas my father who . . . convinced him to do so.”

  Dienwald stiffened. At least about that Blanche had told him the truth. “A man like Graelam is not easily convinced,” he said.

  “You sound as if you know my husband.”

  “Let us say,” Dienwald said dryly, “that I have a healthy respect for de Moreton. But continue.”

  “You are right, now that I know him better, I wonder how my father accomplished it. You see, I was dying, and have no memory at all of wedding him.”

  “I think,” Dienwald said slowly, his eyes never leaving her face, “that you will tell me the whole of it.”

  She repeated to him all that her father had told her. She paused a moment, then said calmly, unaware of the thread of bitterness in her voice, “Then I thought perhaps he cared for me, just a little, you understand. But ’twas not true. I do not understand him. It is likely that I am too stupid to understand his motives.”

  “You are not stupid,” Dienwald said sharply, even as he mulled over what she had told him.

  “Then unfit to be a wife.”

  He ignored her words. “You tell me he refused to annul the marriage in the face of the Duke of Cornwall’s wishes?”

  “Aye. I have come to believe that he bears with me only because he cares for my father, and, of course, for Belleterre. He is now my father’s heir, and Belleterre is a very rich holding.”

  “If he put you aside, Belleterre would still be his. At least he could battle your father and your greedy cousin for ownership.”

  “You are likely right,” Kassia said thoughtfully. She turned suddenly to face him. “Edmund,” she said, unaware that she had used his name, “are you holding me for ransom?”

  “And if I were?” he asked evenly.

  She shrugged, a helpless smile curving up her mouth. “I only wondered. I do not know what Graelam would do.”

  Saint Peter’s teeth, he cursed silently. She was naught but a little chick, as innocent and trusting as a child. He had thought to rape her—what man would not? He had thought even to keep her until he tired of her, mayhap even kill her to save the expense of sending her to Brittany. The surge of protectiveness he felt for her alarmed him. He jumped to his feet.

  “You weary me with your chatter.”

  She flinched at the harshness of his voice, and he felt like a man who has just kicked a small animal.

  “Kassia, sleep now. We will speak further in the morning.”

  He tossed her a blanket and walked to the other side of the fire.

  She wrapped herself in the blanket and curled up in a tight ball. Why had he not raped her as he had Blanche? She shivered. Perhaps he still would rape her. Perhaps his seeming kindness was all a sham. She shook her head, wondering if she would ever understand any man. Her last thought before she slept was of a bloody battle between her father and Graelam for possession of Belleterre.

  Dienwald handed her a hunk of bread. “Eat,” he said, and turned to speak to his men.

  She chewed the dry bread slowly, wishing she had a goblet of milk. Her fear, in abeyance the night before, had returned full measure when he had awakened her at dawn. She swallowed the bread and waited for him to return.

  “What will you do with me?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “I will tell you whilst we ride,” he said.

  Ned tossed her up into Dienwald’s arms. She settled herself, and waited for him to speak.

  “Why do you not let me ride my mare?” she asked at last.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “I cannot escape you.”

  “I know.”

  “Edmund, please tell me what you intend. I am very afraid.”

  She felt his arm tighten around her and winced.

  “Kassia, if I gave you the choice, would you prefer to return to your father in Brittany or to Wolffeton, to your husband?”

  “If you are asking me who is more likely to pay you a ransom, I do not know.”

  “I am not asking you that. Answer me.”

  She sighed. “I cannot allow my husband to claim Belleterre and fight my father. If you gave me the choice, I would return to Wolffeton. It is where I belong.”

  “Do you care for your husband?”

  Dienwald expected a vehement denial. For many moments she said nothing.

  He slowed his destrier to a walk, and Kassia found herself staring unseeing at the sharp-fanged boulders in a near hillside. She swallowed convulsively, remembering yet again Graelam’s kindness to her when she had first come to Wolffeton. His gentleness when he had taken her to his bed. His concern at her pain. What had she done to make him despise her? The stupid material she had taken to sew him a new tunic? She wasn’t aware that tears were slipping down her cheeks.

  “I am stupid,” she said in a choked voice.

  “Ah,” he said.

  Suddenly Kassia stiffened in his arms. “Edmund, you are going in the wrong direction! We are on Wolffeton land!”

  “I know, little chick.”

  She tried to twist around to look at him, but he held her firm. “We are still several hours from Lord Graelam’s keep. Sleep. I believe you will need your strength.”

  “I will never understand men,” she said.

  He smiled over her head. “Mayhap not,” he said gently, “but you will not change. You must not change.”

  “I would not know where to begin,” she said on a helpless sigh. She leaned back against him, trusting him as she did her father, and fell into a light sleep.

  “Little chick. Wake up.”

  Kassia straightened, looking around her as she shook the dregs of sleep from her mind.

  “Wolffeton lies just beyond the next rise. I can take you no farther.” He laughed softly. “I have no wish to face your husband. I fear he would peel off my hide.”

  He pulled his destrier to a halt and nimbly jumped to the ground, Kassia held firmly in his arms. He set her down gently.

  There were so many questions in her eyes that he began to shake his head in answer. “Listen to me, Kassia,” he said, lightly stroking his hands over her arms. “You will take care when you return to Wolffeton. Do you understand me?”

  He knew that she did not. He ground his teeth, but self-interest kept him quiet.

  I will try to do as you say, Edmund,” she said, her head cocked to one side, her great eyes wide upon his face.

  “Go now, little chick.” He leaned down and lightly kissed her mouth, then quickly released her. “Ned, bring her mare!”

  He tossed her onto Bluebell’s back. “Remember what I told you,” he said, then thwacked the mare’s rump.

  He stood quietly, watching her ride toward Wolffeton.

  “My lord,�
�� Ned said, coming up to stand beside him.

  “Aye?”

  “The lass rides into hell, methinks. Ye did not tell her of the woman’s plot.”

  “No, I did not.” Dienwald turned and grinned rakishly at his man. “As I told the wench, Ned, I have no wish to have Lord Graelam after my hide! If she knew who I was, the chances are that sooner or later her husband would find out, and not be content until he had me roasting in hell’s fires!”

  “But that other lady. She knows ye, my lord.”

  “Aye, but to harm me, my friend, she would be doing herself in. And I have the feeling that Lady Blanche cares as much about her pretty hide as I do about mine.”

  Ned spat onto the rocky ground.

  Guy ran a weary hand through his hair. His eyes blurred with fatigue, yet he knew he would ride again within the hour to continue the search, this time northward. He walked down the steps from the keep into the inner bailey, pausing when he heard men shouting. Had Graelam found her? He galloped down the steps, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Kassia, alone, riding her mare into the inner bailey.

  “Guy!” she called, waving to him wildly even as she slipped off her mare’s back. “Guy!”

  She ran toward him, her hands outstretched. Guy wanted nothing more than to crush her against him, so great was his relief that she was safe, but he saw the men closing about them, and grasped her hands, holding her away from him.

  “You came back,” he said roughly.

  “He brought me back,” Kassia gasped. “I thought he would rape me or kill me, but he did not! He was kind, Guy! He brought me home!”

  “What,” Guy said, startled by her strange words, “are you talking about?”

  “Where is Graelam? He is all right, is he not?”

  “He is searching for you. I expect him to return shortly.”

  “Blount! Rolfe!” she cried, pulling away from Guy. “How good it is to see you again!” She had no time in her excitement to realize that the men were gaping at her, for she saw Blanche standing on the steps leading up to the great hall, her son, Evian, at her side.

  “Blanche! Are you all right? I was so worried for you!”