“Leave us!” Thayer told Chad who mumbled the appropriate responses while taking his leave.
Thayer waited until they were alone before embracing Concordia, kissing her gently upon her forehead and beckoning her to sit.
“You appear well,” Concordia whispered, averting his gaze while sitting erect with her hands planted firmly upon her lap.
“My brother tells me your husband is dead. Did I know him?”
“I think not...his name was Brantson...he was a Commander in the king’s army.”
“You need time alone, to grieve,” Thayer told her, opening the door quickly, looking for Nadia’s spies, “but your presence must be kept secret for now.”
“I am your prisoner then?”
“You are my guest,” Thayer said, watching Concordia closely while shutting the door.
Concordia rose slowly, her stoic stance surprising as she approached Thayer. She grasped his arm and rubbed his hand gently against her face, kissing his ring while gazing into his eyes.
“Have you so quickly forgotten our friendship?”
“I could never forget,” Thayer whispered.
“Do you remember your parting words alluding to our love?”
“You speak nonsense,” Thayer retorted, walking away, his demeanor momentarily shaken when confronted with the truth.
“You would have been given land if you had remained in Wessex as my husband. Why did you not pursue me?”
“I could not renounce my birthright just as you cannot renounce your God, which is why you must remain hidden until I speak at length with my brother before deciding your fate.”
“What is there to decide? If our union is not possible, then return me to my father. You know he would reward you well for my safe deliverance.”
“That is not possible.”
“Why is it not possible?” Concordia asked, suddenly afraid.
“My brother should never have brought you here,” Thayer said. “Everyone aboard your ship was presumed lost. Not only has King Alfred demanded justice, but also the Roman Pope seeks retribution. The Caliph’s armies are searching not only for the bandits that attacked you but also for other bands of pirates that threaten the Mediterranean Sea because he does not wish to make enemies of the Christian leaders. It would be difficult to explain how you were delivered to my household without...”
“Involving yourself,” Concordia interrupted. “I wager you are the true leader of the men who ravish the seas. Who would suspect a man of such status? A learned man who studied abroad, a man who oversees his father’s lands, living in peace...a flawless ruse!”
“I could have you put to death.”
“But you will not,” Concordia replied firmly.
“You are overly confident...why should I spare your life?”
“Because of the love we share...because you want me as your wife.”
Thayer pulled Concordia towards him, looking into her eyes while kissing her firmly upon her lips. Surprisingly she returned his kiss, unashamed by her reaction to his touch, her face glowing with love.
“I need time to come up with a plan,” Thayer whispered, restraining his lust because he held her trust.
“Whatever you command, my love,” Concordia mumbled, resting her head against his chest, comfortable in his embrace.
“You must not leave these chambers, not even to walk the private gardens, unless I accompany you. The door will be locked and the windows nailed shut, for your protection, but you will not be alone. There is one slave I trust above all others, and I will send her to you.”
“I am truly blessed,” Concordia smiled as Thayer kissed her greedily before taking his leave.
Concordia waited until the key was removed from the lock and she no longer heard Thayer’s footsteps before she set upon exploring Chad’s elegant quarters. She stood at the entrance of the bedchamber where a massive bed dominated the room. She was surprised by the silken bedcovers, being used to cloth; and the pillows, she had never seen such an assortment of varying shapes and sizes. Elegantly carved chests covered an entire wall and a cushioned Roman-styled couch had been placed beneath the windows. She admired the mosaic flooring with its intricate geometric designs that reflected the artistry of Moorish craftsmen. Concordia retraced her steps, walking through the lavishly-furnished large room into what appeared to be a library where shelves of books encased the walls. There was a scribe’s desk, and cushioned chairs and benches, and manuscripts rested upon a solitary table located near the door. She ran her hand across the shelves, her fingers touching the familiar vellum, reminding her of the time spent at King Alfred’s court school. She was startled by a noise when she removed one of the books; the shelf shifted slightly, revealing a dimly-lit hidden passageway. She prayed she would not be missed as she followed the tunnel until its end, peering cautiously into an empty room before entering. She stood on a bench, peeking through a window overlooking gardens that faced the sea and noticed a path leading to the beach.
Concordia was hopeful as she returned to Chad’s quarters, being out of breath by the time she repositioned the bookshelf. She was flushed when she returned to the main room, her mind already planning her escape because she so desperately wanted to return home even though she was in love, but with which brother? She had challenged Thayer and was victorious because she was desired. However, she returned his affection; a truth she found unsettling.
Brantson’s words filtered through her mind, reminding her she loved a dream, and nothing more, yet she did return Thayer’s kiss willingly. Concordia admonished herself for her weakness, surrendering to an irresistible desire, an emotion she must learn to control. She questioned her feelings, not understanding how two men could hold her heart, yet hoping to make sense of her dilemma, but realizing neither man would place her life above his own.
Thayer and Concordia both needed time, time to think, and to scheme, and to come up with a plan. Thankfully, there was an abundance of time, and for the first time in Concordia’s young life she looked forward to the solitude.
As the day wore on, Concordia realized she was famished, but she was also tired from the long journey. She sat on the bed reluctantly, but the soft silk beckoned and she soon found herself asleep, but her dreams were disturbing. Brantson held her protectively in his arms, only to fade into the darkness, replaced by Chad for a brief moment before Thayer claimed her for his own. Frightening images of mutilated prisoners scorched her mind, shrill voices screaming warnings, messages not to be ignored.
“You do not belong in this land! Your love is forbidden! Deny your God if you wish to live!”
Concordia tossed about the bed, her hands slipping through the silken fabric as sweat dampened her hair and clothing.
“Brantson, help me!” Concordia sobbed, her tears staining the pillow. “I miss your friendship and your love.”
Concordia sat up abruptly, terrified by such an unsettling dream. She brushed aside her tears with the back of her hand, shaking slightly as her anxiety subsided, thankful she was awake. She glanced about the familiar room, breathing deeply while suppressing the urge to scream when she heard the key turning in the lock.
“My lady?” The slave asked, locking the door behind her before searching the rooms. “Do not be frightened, I mean you no harm...my name is Yara and I am here to serve you.”
“I was tired,” Concordia said from the bedchamber.
Yara placed a tray containing food and drink upon a table before joining Concordia in the bedchamber. She waited patiently for Concordia to speak, and when words were not forthcoming, Yara smiled warmly, sitting beside the apprehensive woman, speaking softly to alleviate her fears.
“I was born a slave into this household, and have been treated well. I have been sworn to secrecy so you need not fear betrayal. I have brought refreshments, and a change of clothing. You must be dressed according to our custom once you leave these quarters.”
“I know nothing of your customs,” Concordia whispered, “nor do I follo
w your faith.”
“Do not speak of your religion outside these walls,” Yara warned. “Christians in these parts are condemned to death unless they renounce their God and practice Islam.”
“What have you been told?”
“My master has made me privy to your plight, so you may speak freely. I am not a spy but a servant, and I will not repeat your words. You are a foreigner in a strange land needing someone to trust. I am trustworthy, which is why I was sent to serve you.”
“The windows have been shuttered so I do not know the hour.”
“The sun has set, and I must return to my duties before I am missed, but I will be back at first light. There is something I must show you before I leave.”
Concordia was curious as she followed Yara into the main room, stifling a gasp when the slave pressed open the wall adjacent to the library. The women stepped upon an enclosed portico, overlooking the beautiful sea, and a most welcome table and chair nestled in a corner.
“You cannot be seen here,” Yara smiled.
“The view is beautiful, but I am still a prisoner,” Concordia said, sobbing quietly, unable to stop her tears.
“Do not weep,” Yara said sympathetically while holding Concordia in her arms. “All will be set right...you will see...trust in your God as I trust in mine.”
Chapter Fifteen
The night seemed endless as Concordia leaned against a stone pillar of the secluded portico, her cloak wrapped tightly against the evening chill, her swollen face bereft of tears. The roaring surf reminded her of home, of a life she cherished, of the pain she caused. She was ashamed she had treated Elizabeth so callously, promising to set things right once she was rescued, but her safe deliverance depended upon Emidus and whether or not he believed she had perished at sea.
It was while Concordia was considering whether or not to trust Yara that she heard the rustling of the brush and rocks beneath her. She withdrew into the shadows, breathing quietly, fearing Nadia’s spies, peering into the darkness, hoping to identify the intruder. An eerie shape formed in the glowing moonlight, a frightful silhouette creeping stealthily towards the gardens she had discovered earlier that day. Concordia hurried to the library, removed the book and ran the length of the tunnel, entering the room without thinking and thanking God she was alone. She was looking out the window, searching for answers, when the door suddenly burst open. Concordia stood still, pressing herself against the wall while chiding herself for not concealing the passageway, which, fortunately, could not been readily seen from the doorway. She held her breath, fearing discovery as a ghostly shadow glanced about the darkened room. Nadia peered into the darkness, expecting to find her trusted henchman.
“Bashir?” Nadia whispered.
Concordia did not know how much longer she could hold her breath as she waited for Nadia to leave. She bit her lip, fearing discovery while gasping for air just as her enemy headed towards the gardens. Concordia was about to return to the library when she heard voices, and because she was curious, she remained beneath the window.
The soft sound of footsteps scurrying along the path from the beach echoed in the stillness as a cloaked figure approached Nadia who greeted Bashir warmly while glancing about, searching for spies.
“Chad has returned, but he is housed in Thayer’s quarters and I would know why,” Nadia said.
“Jafri remains in the town...he waits, but for what, I cannot say.”
“Discover the truth,” Nadia replied, “and send for the assassin.”
“Why are you troubled?” Bashir asked.
“Thayer has the necklace, yet no envoy travels these lands. How did he retrieve it? He keeps something from me, but what?”
“If Jafri is not forthcoming...”
“Torture him.”
“With pleasure,” Bashir grinned. “Is there anything else?”
Nadia waved her hand, dismissing her servant, waiting until he faded into the night before leaving the gardens.
Concordia hurried towards the passageway once Nadia sent her henchman away. Within minutes she was back in the library, returning the shelf to its proper position. She should have gone to the bedchamber but went instead to the portico where she hoped to catch a glimpse of her enemy. Her arrival was timely as Nadia had just left the gardens, heading in her direction, her face readily seen in the moonlight.
As Nadia sought her chambers, Concordia returned to the main room where she tested the door, breathing a sigh of relief to find it locked. She did not realize she was trembling until she noticed her shaking hands, and her courage left her. She fell to the floor, holding back her tears while burying her head in her knees, knowing in her heart she would soon fall victim to the assassin’s hand.
“Brantson, we will soon be together, but I need your strength to face death,” Concordia whispered wearily while yielding to much needed rest.
When Yara pushed open the door at first light, she found Concordia slumped upon the floor.
“The day awaits,” Yara said softly, waking Concordia gently.
“I could not sleep,” Concordia confessed, thankful for the strong arms that lifted her to her feet.
Concordia did not protest when Yara led her to bed, welcoming the softness, her eyelids closing as she was covered with a silken cloth. The slave sat beside her, watching the distraught woman intently, and speaking soothing words when Concordia was disturbed by her dreams.
The sound of the key in the lock disturbed the silence, which Yara found unsettling. There were to be no visitors, not yet, but Thayer could not stay away.
“Is she fevered?” Thayer asked, approaching the bedchamber quietly, not wishing to disturb her sleep.
“She is distraught...and fears for her life,” Yara whispered. “She should be permitted to walk freely about the grounds...she cannot trust a man she fears.”
“Did I seek your counsel?”
“There is no need, I know you well, or have you forgotten?”
Thayer grinned, kissing the top of Yara’s head before sitting upon the bed. He held Concordia’s hand, pressing her soft fingers against his heart.
“If Nadia discovers your true feelings,” Yara whispered.
“I know,” Thayer interrupted, “which is why Concordia must remain hidden, but know that I plan to make her my wife.”
“You would defy your father? And I do not trust Nadia once she learns she has been displaced. And what happens when Concordia’s family discovers the truth? You risk a battle you will lose.”
“That is why you must gain her trust, and teach her our ways,” Thayer replied. “I have reassigned your duties so you may serve Concordia, no matter the hour. I would also have you share these quarters.”
Concordia stirred, awakening cautiously when she heard Thayer’s voice, her heart pounding when he leaned over and kissed her lips, yet becoming uneasy when Yara left the room.
“I had to see you...to tell you your words were truthful when you spoke of our love.”
Thayer brushed aside Concordia’s tears, holding her in his arms while whispering endearing words.
“I thought our love is forbidden...what has changed?”
“You are right...nothing has changed, except acknowledging the truth. We will wed this day, in secret. The arrangements have already been made so you need not fear for your life while you remain hidden. Yara is to be your companion, and she will not leave your side.”
Concordia was genuinely surprised by Thayer’s revelation, a truth confessed too late. Her heart was torn...she grieved for Brantson, yet she desired Chad and questioned her love for Thayer.
“What of your brother? Are these not his quarters? And is there not suspicion because he rests in your chambers?”
“You need not fear discovery. Chad left at first light and I do not know when he will return.”
Concordia was grateful she was in bed because her knees became weak and she was nauseous. She kept her head against Thayer’s chest, her eyes lowered lest Thayer discerned the truth
, knowing she could not hide the pain of betrayal. Chad had abandoned her, leaving her alone in a foreign land, amongst the vipers seeking her blood. His departure sealed her fate, leaving her little choice but to accept Thayer’s proposal.
“Is not my faith an impediment to our union?” Concordia asked, hoping to delay the inevitable.
“There is a priest of your religion in these parts preaching your God’s word despite the threat to his life. He hides in the caves for fear of discovery, not knowing my spies are watchful. He is being brought here and should arrive within the hour. Yara will attend to your needs while we wait.”
“You would risk everything for me?”
“I regret not telling you my true feelings on our last night...there is no excuse, the fault is mine.”
“We need to send word to my father...he will be distraught once he learns everyone was lost...I cannot bear to have him suffer...he must know I live.”
“I will send a trustworthy servant,” Thayer reassured her, “but for now you must prepare yourself for our union.”
Concordia mumbled her affirmation as Thayer called Yara into the bedchamber. She watched her future husband closely, looking for signs of betrayal, finding his stoicism unsettling. She smiled when he acknowledged her before taking his leave, but the sound of the key turning in the lock reminded her she was still a prisoner.
“We have little time,” Yara reminded her. “My master, your future husband, wishes you to wear this dress.”
Yara unfolded the colorful silk, holding the garment before her while admiring the delicate embroidery. Concordia tossed the dress upon the bed, waiting for Yara to leave, becoming distressed when the slave remained, crying silently when Yara removed her clothing.
“Did you not have women attending to your needs in your homeland?” Yara asked the naked woman.
“There was no need,” Concordia murmured while tears fell rapidly down her face.
Yara dressed Concordia quickly, not wishing to add to her discomfiture. She led the frightened woman into the main room, sitting Concordia upon a bench where she arranged her hair according to custom. When Yara was satisfied, she covered Concordia’s head with a veil, stepping back to admire such a lovely vision.
The Briton and the Dane: Concordia Page 10
