The Briton and the Dane: Concordia

by Mary Ann Bernal

  “How did you manage this?”

  “One of the conditions for my forgiveness was the return of my necklace, but Thayer said that was not possible. Instead he mentioned going to the village to speak to the goldsmith, and I could select whatever I fancy. You must help me choose wisely so there is enough,” Concordia confided, embracing Yara firmly as she tried to control her rising excitement. “Will Jafri escape with us? I would not have you choose between us.”

  “Jafri does not yet know...his absence might prove our undoing. The more days that pass before we are missed, the better our chances. Jafri believes traveling by sea would be best. He knows well the coastal roads, and there are many hidden caves where we might rest during the journey. I will know more once he meets with Chad.”

  “Why must he speak with Chad?” Concordia asked uneasily. “I do not trust either brother.”

  “If Chad keeps Thayer close, you will not be readily missed, but I do fear your fate once Thayer leaves these lands.”

  “My fate rests with God so do not worry needlessly, my dear friend. Come, let us learn who is to accompany us. I wager leaving in two days time, God willing. Do you agree?”

  “It is possible my lady,” Yara grinned as she followed Concordia to the door.

  Both women were startled to find Jafri waiting in the warm sunlight when they left Chad’s quarters. Concordia nodded when Jafri bowed before following him to the stables where their mounts waited. The horses walked the familiar road, a pleasant ride beneath the cloudless sky. Jafri led the way while Yara rode beside Concordia, yet neither woman spoke. Concordia was aware of her surroundings, glancing about the landscape, searching for hidden trails that a horse could easily navigate. She was uneasy when they reached the outskirts, fearing the assassin’s hand and Nadia’s spies. A stablehand appeared out of nowhere, helping her dismount while Jafri and Yara slid off their animals.

  “This way,” Jafri said, walking the dusty path that led to the goldsmith’s dwelling.

  Jafri waited outside when Concordia entered, grasping Yara’s wrist and pulling her towards him.

  “I have been assigned to guard you both,” Jafri whispered. “Chad arranged it.”

  “Does he suspect?”

  “Chad is to be trusted, but say nothing until we speak,” Jafri murmured. “Meet me once Concordia is settled upon our return.”

  Yara bowed and entered the goldsmith’s quarters, leaving Jafri standing guard, his hand resting on the pommel of his belted sword. She glanced at the tables where gold necklaces and bracelets lay scattered upon velvet cloth, and precious gems sparkled when touched by sunbeams streaming through the open windows.

  “Yara, what do you think of this necklace?” Concordia asked while holding a multiple layer gold chain against her chest.

  “It is lovely, but have you seen this gemstone necklace? There are also matching bracelets.”

  Concordia placed the gold chain upon the cloth and held the sparkling gems before her, admiring the craftsmanship of the design while Yara selected rings of different colored gemstones, each exquisitely crafted, the size of the stone determining its value.

  “Have arrangements been made for my purchases?” Concordia asked the goldsmith as she admired the many rings she had placed on her fingers.

  “Everything on this table is yours, if that is your wish,” the goldsmith replied. “Is my lady pleased with these offerings?”

  “More than pleased, and I would take these ornaments now, if that is possible.”

  “It is possible,” the goldsmith told her, wrapping each item in velvet before placing the jewelry in a soft-cloth pouch.

  Concordia thanked the goldsmith while beckoning Yara to take the pouch, which she hid beneath her clothing. The women were in high spirits when they joined Jafri who was preoccupied by the crowd that had assembled in a nearby meadow.

  “What is it?” Concordia asked.

  “A man preaches about your God,” Jafri said. “He must want martyrdom; why else would he make his presence readily known?”

  “I would speak with him,” Concordia replied, running towards the meadow, hoping to find the priest who had married her to Thayer.

  Concordia was out of breath by the time she reached the small circle of curious bystanders. She stopped abruptly, not wishing to make her presence known just yet, since she could not see his face. She paid no heed to Yara and Jafri’s warnings as she listened to the words spoken by an all too familiar voice. She held her breath, her hand pressed against her mouth, her eyes squinting because of the sun as she waited for him to look in her direction.

  “The Son of God brings peace,” the holy man said, his hands raised in welcome.

  Concordia could not believe her eyes, fearing the apparition who stood before her. However, he was not a spirit, he was her beloved teacher. She whispered prayers of thanksgiving as joyful tears flowed down her face. Her ordeal would soon be at an end. Brother Frederic would bring her home.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Storm clouds gathered over the meadow, the darkened sky threatening and ominous, a fine rain tormenting the parched earth. The people listened to Brother Frederic’s words despite the misty drizzle, caught up in the monk’s passionate rhetoric. Concordia prayed Brother Frederic would notice her in the crowd, and when he failed to acknowledge her presence, she started to walk towards him only to have Jafri stop her.

  “We must leave, it is not safe,” Yara whispered as she grasped Concordia’s arm.

  “I would speak with him,” Concordia replied urgently while trying to free herself, biting her lip when Jafri placed his arm about her shoulder and began walking away.

  “There are riders,” Yara pointed as armed warriors waving their swords galloped towards the meadow.

  “Run,” Jafri told the women. “We can hide in the bushes.”

  Concordia slid upon the ground, peering between the bristles, watching in horror as the villagers were slaughtered. She covered her ears, hoping to silence the deafening screams as sharp blades sliced through flesh, the brown grass turning red as a gentle rain began to fall.

  Brother Frederic did not try to escape as he prayed for the souls of the innocent, shouting to be heard over the noise, standing his ground as the horsemen circled around him, the tip of their swords tearing his habit, taunting him with every thrust, cheering when blood spurted from his many wounds. The horses neighed, their flaring nostrils smelling blood as the warriors reined in their mounts, but Brother Frederic did not cower before his enemies.

  A solitary warrior trotted towards the open field, his majestic presence readily identifiable to everyone but Concordia who had yet to see his face. She was splattered by mud as the horse’s hooves pounded the wet ground, becoming ashen when Thayer passed their hiding place.

  “We should go before we are discovered,” Jafri said softly.

  “I would know the fate of the holy brother,” Concordia whispered. “Do not deny me this request, I beg you.”

  “We can leave when they search the dead,” Yara interjected.

  “You already know his fate,” Jafri reminded both women.

  “He must be spared,” Concordia sobbed. “He must.”

  Concordia was grateful for Yara’s comforting embrace as Thayer came upon his elite guard, pulling on the reins before Brother Frederic who recognized his former student. Their eyes locked briefly, a split second when words were not needed, a split second that sealed Brother Frederic’s fate. In one swift movement, Thayer unsheathed his sword and decapitated the Benedictine monk without remorse.

  “We must go,” Jafri said urgently, pulling Concordia away from the meadow as Brother Frederic’s headless body fell to the ground amidst the cheers of Thayer’s warriors.

  Yara grabbed Concordia’s free hand as she ran, glancing over her shoulder as they distanced themselves from the bloodshed. Minutes seemed an eternity to Concordia whose demeanor reflected her agitated state. She was trembling when Jafri helped her mount, her ashen features disturb
ing as Yara jumped upon her horse and grabbed Concordia’s reins. They galloped across the landscape, paying no heed to the falling rain as they approached Thayer’s estate. Fortunately, they were not seen as they entered the stables where Yara revealed a secret entrance to the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the massive villa. Concordia fell to her knees in the darkened corridor, weeping uncontrollably as she envisioned Brother Frederic’s headless body falling upon the wet earth.

  “Lead the way,” Jafri told Yara as he lifted Concordia into his arms. “There is little time... Thayer must not know we witnessed the slaughter.”

  It did not take long to reach Chad’s quarters much to Jafri’s relief. He sat Concordia down gently upon a chair in her bedchamber just as the rain intensified. Strong breezes blew out the flickering candles while the shutters opened and closed in the fierce wind. As Jafri latched the windows, Yara changed Concordia’s wet clothing before putting her to bed, speaking soothing words as she sat beside her, holding her hand until she fell asleep.

  Jafri stirred the dying embers in the fireplace, adding wood chips to the awakening flames, warming his hands and drying his clothing. He helped himself to a cup of wine, drinking the warming liquid slowly, grateful that the chill was leaving his bones.

  “She sleeps,” Yara said as she stood before the warming fire. “I fear Thayer’s punishment should he learn we were in the meadow. How quickly can you make the arrangements now that we have enough gold?”

  “Do you trust me?” Jafri asked while looking at the crackling fire.

  “You know I do.”

  “Yet you keep things from me.”

  “What troubles you,” Yara whispered as she wrapped her arm about Jafri’s waist.

  “There have been whispers...about you and Thayer, and Chad.”

  Yara did not reply at once, choosing her words carefully when she finally revealed the truth to the one man she truly loved. She was delightfully surprised when Jafri lifted her in the air and twirled her about, his relief evident when he set her upon her feet.

  “There is more...am I right.?”

  “You know me well,” Jafri grinned, “but you must swear not to repeat my words this day.”

  “I swear.”

  “There is one other who would have Concordia return to her people and I have been asked to accompany her to Britannia, and you are also to travel with us.”

  “Who would dare thwart Thayer?”

  “Chad,” Jafri whispered. “He would not have Concordia’s blood on his hands.”

  “Would leaving at first light be too soon?”

  “If Thayer does not share Concordia’s bed this night, it is possible, but I must speak with Chad. Do not leave these quarters and keep the door locked lest Thayer’s bloodlust destroys us all.”

  Jafri kissed Yara passionately upon her lips, breaking away from their loving embrace reluctantly, holding her hand until he reached the doorway. He kissed her one final time, stepping into the dampness as the sun peeked through the dissipating storm clouds, waiting to hear the key turning in the lock before leaving to find his master.

  Yara’s eyes were closed when she leaned against the door, breathing deeply while wondering why Thayer and his men had been so ruthless with the villagers. She could understand slaying the holy man, his God was not welcomed in these lands, but the men and women were another matter. Flogging, not death, was a suitable punishment, and she could only speculate why their lives had not been spared.

  “What is done, is done,” Yara mumbled to herself as she hurried towards the bedchamber.

  Concordia appeared to be sleeping when Yara entered the room. She walked quietly to the furthermost corner where the clothing chest had been placed. She opened the lid, tossing aside the delicate silk for garments made of cloth. Yara placed the clothing into a rucksack, searching the room for anything of value that would prove useful and praising her good fortune when she noticed a dagger on the food-laden table. She tossed the knife into the satchel, wrapping what was left of the food, which might last a few days if they were careful. She also grabbed a few candles in case they hid in the caves. Yara then glanced about the rooms, seeking a hiding place as she approached the portico, concealing the bag in a decorative stone urn before returning to Concordia who no longer slept.

  “I cannot stay here,” Concordia said, rubbing her hands together as she paced about the bedchamber. “How could he, Yara? How could he?”

  “Thayer is feared by everyone in these parts...now you know why.”

  “I have been such a fool, but have since grown wise. We can leave this night, even if Thayer shares my bed, if you add more powder to the draught.”

  “Jafri meets with Chad who has yet to learn of Thayer’s butchery,” Yara replied. “It is possible to leave at first light. I have packed clothing and food, but the gold ornaments I carry on my belt, unless you wish to hide the pouch beneath your clothing.”

  “No need, I am grateful for your friendship,” Concordia smiled, embracing Yara warmly. “Is it not possible to leave now? The path beneath the portico leads to the sea. We could await Jafri in one of the sea caves.”

  “Thayer would search the sea caves personally, and you would be severely punished, if not slain. You must be patient, my lady. Jafri returns soon, and we are ready.”

  “You are right. If we act hastily we would be found and our plans thwarted. Let us await Jafri on the portico. I find the sound of breaking waves soothing, and I am reminded of home.”

  Jafri came upon Chad drinking with Bashir in the main room as Nadia reclined on a nearby couch, eating grapes while a slave fanned her with ostrich feathers. Chad waved the slave away when he noticed Jafri’s demeanor, offering his trusted warrior a cup of wine while Nadia and Bashir exchanged glances. Jafri emptied the cup quickly, refilled it and emptied it again before choosing his words carefully.

  “I trust you have not been told about the death of a Christian holy man and half the villagers earlier this day.”

  “By whose hand?” Chad interjected.

  “Sharif and his soldiers silenced the men and women, but Thayer cut off the Christian monk’s head.”

  “He is a fool!” Nadia said angrily. “The people are already unsettled because the cave priest went missing, believing Thayer had him silenced, and now this! And the Caliph’s soldiers have been seen in the city. It will not be long before they are here.”

  “Nadia, you must leave now, before Thayer finds you,” Chad told her. “Return to Valencia, my mother will give you refuge. Take Bashir to protect you.”

  “I will leave within the hour,” Nadia replied. “Come with me, Bashir, there is much to do.”

  Chad and Jafri drank silently, waiting until they could no longer hear the sound of footsteps before speaking.

  “How quickly can you leave with Concordia and Yara?” Chad asked softly, fearing his words might be overheard.

  “Concordia would have already fled, if she had not been distraught. Yara stays with her, locked in your quarters.”

  “Take them to my hiding place, but return so Thayer does not suspect. We will need horses and provisions...use the stables in the village. Go now, before Thayer returns, then await me in my quarters.”

  Jafri nodded and left the room hurriedly, crossed the enclosed courtyard, stopping abruptly before reaching the stables when he heard the sound of pounding hooves approaching rapidly. He hid behind a tree as Thayer and his men dismounted.

  “We must drink and bed women,” Thayer grinned, backslapping Sharif while he and his men headed towards the main room.

  The warriors were in high spirits as the men entered Thayer’s quarters, invigorated by the spilling of blood.

  Jafri waited until the voices faded before running along the dusty path that led to Chad’s dwelling. He knocked on the door, again and again, becoming uneasy when Yara did not answer. He stepped away, wondering if he might slip through a window, only to remember that they were latched shut. He ran to the gardens and cautiously opened the
door to the empty room with its hidden entrance. Jafri searched the walls, running his hands across the panels, pressing the wood, searching for the opening, praising Allah when a partition creaked open. It did not take long to traverse the tunnel and he soon found himself standing in the library. Jafri kept his hand on his belted dagger as he searched the rooms, becoming distressed when he found himself alone.

  “Jafri! When did you arrive?” Yara said from behind.

  Jafri rushed towards her and held her tightly, his eyes depicting his fear.

  “What is wrong?”

  “Where were you hiding?”

  “The portico,” Yara smiled, pointing to the obscured doorway. “I was fetching wine for Concordia.”

  “We must leave now,” Jafri said.

  “We are ready, follow me.”

  Concordia was on her feet once she saw Yara with Jafri. She held her tongue, fearing answers to questions she dared not ask. She was surprised when Yara retrieved the rucksack from the urn, and laughed inwardly at Jafri’s astonished look when Yara pushed aside the stone bench, revealing the stairwell.

  “This leads to the sea,” Yara grinned as the three of them descended the stairs, “and soon we shall all be free.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Nadia returned to her bedchamber while Bashir quietly made the necessary arrangements for their escape. She retrieved a satchel she had hidden behind a concealed panel in the wall, adding a bejeweled coffer that contained precious gems and gold ornaments, gifts from Thayer given in recompense for the pain she had been forced to endure when he possessed her. She grabbed her cloak, shoving the cloth into the sack while running to the open doorway where the assassin waited.

  “You startled me!” Nadia told him as she pulled him inside and shut the door firmly. “Are you a fool? What if you were seen!”

  “Only Bashir knows I am here,” the assassin replied. “Why did you send for me?”

  “I seek vengeance, but there is little time,” Nadia said, whispering into his ear the name of her betrayer.