by Speer, Flora
“Rubbish,” said Sister Gertrude. “Ingeborg, you are not afraid of anyone, including the devil himself. I point out to you that you have just contradicted yourself. If Savarec was disappointing in the way you implied, then you had no need to fear ravishment at his hands.”
“She suggested the meeting,” said Savarec, apparently more recovered from the drugged wine with every moment that passed. “When I got to her tent, she gave me wine to drink. I remember nothing after that, until Guntram doused me with water.”
“Sex had nothing to do with your part in today’s events, nor had fear,” Michel said to Lady Ingeborg. “You invited Savarec to your tent and gave him drugged wine to keep him out of the way while Clodion abducted Danise.”
“What?” cried Savarec. “Danise, abducted? I’ll kill Clodion for this! And you too, you conniving witch!” He would have attacked Lady Ingeborg if Guntram had not restrained him.
“Do not trouble yourself to punish her,” Sister Gertrude advised. “In due time heaven will see to Ingeborg. Her life is not worth what it would cost you to take it from her, Savarec.”
“You all do insult me.” Lady Ingeborg was the picture of offended innocence. “Even if this preposterous story were true, what would the removal of Savarec from today’s hunt accomplish? You would still be there, Michel, along with Count Redmond and Guntram here. Any of you could easily protect Danise, if she needed protection. Don’t blame me if she is missing. If she is really with Clodion, she may have gone along with him willingly. Clodion can be most persuasive.”
“Danise loathes the man,” Sister Gertrude declared, her eyes flashing angry fire. “She would never have gone anywhere with him. Savarec, at root this is all your fault, since you allowed Clodion to become Danise’s suitor.”
“I did not know he would harm her. I hoped to secure a luxurious life for her as the wife of an honored nobleman.” Savarec moaned, his hands at his head. “You are right, old friend, this is as much my doing as Clodion’s. Oh, my poor, poor Danise, my baby, my little girl.” Tears streamed down Savarec’s face.
“It’s my fault, too,” Michel said, moved by Savarec’s open grief. “I should have been more alert to Clodion’s actions. Guntram and I rode with Charles this morning at Clodion’s suggestion. Charles told me so after I complained that I couldn’t find Danise in that mob on horseback. Charles sent Guntram and me to look for her. At least he had sense enough to be worried right away.”
“You are wasting time,” snapped Sister Gertrude. “You must find Danise at once. We do not need to ask what Clodion will do to her if he has indeed abducted her.” At these words Savarec moaned again.
“You are absolutely right,” Michel said to Sister Gertrude. “I think we would do well to assume that Danise has been abducted. I will go to Charles and ask for his help to find her. And you, Lady Ingeborg, are going with me, to provide whatever information Charles asks of you.”
“I’ll go, too,” Sister Gertrude volunteered, still holding tightly to Lady Ingeborg’s arm.
“I know nothing about any of this,” Lady Ingeborg cried.
“After what you did to me, do not expect anyone to believe you again,” warned Savarec, his grief over Danise rapidly changing to anger. He wiped his eyes and straightened his shoulders. “Ill see you severely punished for this, Ingeborg,” he promised.
“Here comes Redmond,” said Guntram. “He may know something.”
“I do not,” said Redmond. “No one I have spoken to has seen Danise or Clodion since immediately after the hunt began. Michel, we must inform Charles at once.”
They found the king of the Franks just dismounting before his tent. It took only a few minutes to tell him what little they knew and what they had deduced.
“I do not want Hildegarde overly distressed,” Charles said. “We will organize a search, but we will do it quietly. Give out only the news that Danise has not returned from the hunt and may be lost in the forest. That’s bad enough, but not as bad as the truth. Lady Ingeborg, you will remain in your tent, under guard, so you cannot communicate with Clodion. Redmond, I want you to use your own men-at-arms to set a watch on the men Clodion brought to Duren. Give orders that none of them is to leave camp. Discover if any are already missing, and if so, report it to me at once. Return as quickly as you can; I want you to join in the search. Sister Gertrude, I depend upon you to keep Hildegarde quiet and unaffected by this.”
“I want to go with the search party,” Sister Gertrude replied. “When you find her, Danise will need me.”
“You can do more good here,” Charles told her. “When we find Danise – and I promise you, we will find her – we will treat her with every kindness and promptly bring her back to you.”
“I pray you will not be too late,” said Sister Gertrude.
“So do we all pray,” Charles responded. His face was grave, his voice solemn.
Willing searchers were quickly recruited. Fresh horses were saddled. Men weary after a day of riding in humid heat paused only to refresh themselves with a little bread and cheese and wine before returning to the forest. There, at the place where Redmond had last seen Danise, Charles divided them into several parties and sent them off in different directions. Charles and Savarec rode with Michel, Redmond, and Guntram, the five of them spread out among the trees, moving along slowly, watching the ground for any trace of Danise or Clodion. They did not stop until it was too dark to see.
“We will begin again at dawn,” Charles said. “Savarec, I swear to you, I will not leave Duren or end Mayfield until we know where Danise is.”
“Knowing where she is does not mean she will be safe.” Savarec had dark circles under his eyes and his face was set into strained lines as he looked toward Charles. “All the same, I thank you, my friend.”
Savarec did not sleep that night. Michel and Guntram insisted he must eat something and then lie down to rest, but the worried father only tossed upon his bed, cursing himself for his foolishness in underestimating Clodion’s determination to have Danise.
Michel was not in much better condition. Left to himself, he would have continued the search in the dark. Only Charles’s direct command prevented him from doing so. The thought of Danise struggling in Clodion’s embrace nearly drove him mad. Lady Ingeborg’s luring of Savarec, and the way Michel and Guntram had been maneuvered into riding with Charles so neither of them could protect Danise, suggested careful plotting on Clodion’s part.
The sun was not yet above the horizon when the search for Danise was resumed. By noon Michel had begun to lose hope, and he was growing worried about Savarec.
“The man is driving himself to the limits of his strength,” Michel said to Charles. “He is ready to drop from exhaustion and from this miserable heat.” Michel’s own woolen tunic and linen undershirt were saturated with perspiration.
“I would order him to return to camp,” Charles said, “but I believe he would disobey me for the first time in his life. No, Michel, if one of my daughters were missing, I would not stop until I found her or I died. Let Savarec follow his heart. It will help to relieve the burden of guilt he feels.” Charles did call a brief halt for their little group of men and he insisted that Savarec must take off his tunic and bathe in a nearby stream to cool himself. Such was Savarec’s impatience that they did not stop for long.
It was some time after midday when they heard a cry from a short distance away. Immediately Savarec kicked his horse’s flanks, hastening ahead of his companions. A few seconds later Michel heard Savarec’s angry shout and then a scream of terror. Michel and Charles urged their horses through the trees to the spot from where the noises were coming. Redmond and Guntram followed close behind them.
And there, stripped naked and tied to a tree, was Clodion. And there was Savarec, tumbling off his horse, his knife in his hand, and no question in Michel’s mind just what Savarec meant to do.
“Stop!” Charles’s voice rang out, halting Savarec in midstep. “Do not harm him, Savarec. Clodion has much
to tell us.”
“Thanks be to heaven, it is you,” Clodion cried. “Savarec, release me. I know where they have taken Danise.”
“They?” Michel got off his horse. “What they? It’s you who took Danise away.”
“She agreed to ride with me for a while,” Clodion insisted, “to hear my pleas that she should marry me.”
“I find it difficult to believe that Danise would go anywhere with you.” Redmond was on the ground now, too, and his face was a study in barely controlled fury.
“Try, impossible,” Michel said to him.
“I’m telling the truth,” Clodion screamed. “We were set upon by Autichar and his men. They left me like this and took Danise away with them. It was Autichar who abducted Danise, not me.”
“So, the rumors were true. Autichar was in the neighborhood.” Charles came forward to stand with a fist planted on each hip, regarding Clodion with a sharp eye. “Where did they go?”
“Autichar spoke of carrying Danise home to Bavaria,” said Clodion. “I do not know if he means to wed her or to ravish her. Autichar was greatly angered by the way he was treated at Duren. Charles, he said he would take his complaint of you to Duke Tassilo. Mayhap he intends to use Danise as a witness to his story.”
“Mayhap, trees can fly,” muttered Guntram. “Don’t believe a word this man says.”
“You can see what they did to me,” screeched Clodion. “They took away all my clothes, they tied me to this tree, and then they abused me most grievously.”
“I’ll wager he enjoyed it,” said Guntram beneath his breath.
“Which way did they go?” Michel demanded of Clodion. “You must have seen them leave.”
“They were headed toward the Rhine,” Clodion answered. “Autichar did say that the rest of his men were camped there until he rejoined them. He had but a small band with him here. Autichar planned to travel as fast as he could until he is safe in Bavaria.”
“You are right, Guntram.” Michel scowled at Clodion. “We can’t believe this man. He may have hidden Danise somewhere.”
“Clodion had more than enough time to ravish her,” Guntram agreed. “Or to kill her. If he did either, I want a chance at him with my own knife. I’ll see to it that he is made incapable of ever harming another woman.”
“You’ll have to stand in line and wait your turn,” Michel said, “behind Savarec and me.”
“And me,” Redmond added.
Clodion whimpered in fear before their threatening faces, struggling against the hide ropes that bound him. Now Charles moved forward another step or two.
“Surely you do understand,” he said to Clodion, “how little these good men trust your word.”
“I would never,” Clodion gasped, looking from Savarec, still with knife in hand, to Michel, to Redmond and Guntram. “Charles – I’m loyal – always – your father – and you.”
“For the sake of your years of service to my father and to me,” Charles said, “I will not allow them to harm you. But I warn you, Clodion, if we find proof of your culpability, then I will see you severely punished.”
“What more proof do you need?” Savarec objected. “Clodion admits he brought Danise into the forest. For what reason, it is not hard to guess.”
“Charles is right.” Michel laid a restraining hand on Savarec’s shoulder. He sent an admiring glance toward the king of the Franks, who stood tall and calm in the midst of so much anger and fear. “I’d enjoy carving this subhuman creature into pieces just as much as you would, Savarec. But killing him won’t help Danise. Charles has made laws to protect women from being carried off and raped, and those laws ought to be obeyed. What we want here is justice, not revenge.”
“My friends, I will give you justice,” Charles promised. “Before we leave Duren, Clodion will be convicted, or acquitted, in the matter of Danise’s disappearance. At the moment, I will have him returned to camp and there kept under strict guard.
“Guntram, I will not order you to blow your horn, for I do not want the search stopped. You have but to ride northward a short distance to meet another search party. Find it and bring the men here. Redmond, do the same in a southerly direction. That will add nearly a dozen other men to our group.” At once Redmond and Guntram leapt onto their horses to obey his command.
“Aren’t you going to set me free?” cried Clodion.
“Why, as to that,” said Charles, a slight smile playing upon his lips, “if we leave you as you are, we need not worry that you will wander away and become lost among the trees. If that should happen, we’d have to search for two people instead of one. Considering the mood of these men with me, I’d say you are safer where we found you.”
“We can’t break off the search for Danise,” Michel said.
“Certainly not,” Charles agreed. “Once the men Redmond and Guntram are summoning have arrived, I will send out word to the remaining search parties to work their way south and eastward, toward the Rhine. I must return to Duren, to alert the men there to the possibility of an attack by Autichar.”
“He won’t attack Duren,” Clodion insisted. “Autichar is headed toward Bavaria.”
“How can you be so sure?” Charles contemplated Clodion’s face for a long moment before he spoke again. “How can you know if what Autichar said in your hearing was true? Perhaps he intended to mislead you, knowing you would convey to us what he said.”
“He—” Clodion clamped his mouth shut on the words he had been about to speak. With a barely perceptible nod of satisfaction Charles turned away from him.
“There is more to Clodion’s story than he’s telling,” Michel said, too low for Clodion to hear.
“Agreed.” Charles paused, thinking. “Savarec, I want you to return to Duren with me. If we should be attacked, I will need you there.”
“But, Danise,” Savarec protested.
“Michel and Redmond will continue to direct the search for her,” Charles decided. “You may allow Guntram to remain with them if you wish.”
To this Savarec assented.
“Thank you,” Michel said to Charles, still in the same low voice. “The man needs food and rest. He’s so worn out with worry over Danise that he’d be more a problem than a help to us.”
“So I thought,” Charles replied.
The bands of searchers contacted by Redmond and Guntram soon assembled. There was some amusement displayed over Clodion’s situation, but at Charles’s order he was released from his bonds, covered with a cloak someone lent to him, and mounted upon his own horse, which Guntram discovered wandering loose among the trees. Then, taking three men along for guards, Charles led Savarec and Clodion back toward Duren, leaving the other men with Michel, Redmond, and Guntram.
“We ought to spread out as before,” Michel suggested, “and head in the general direction of the Rhine.”
“And pray that Clodion was telling the truth,” Redmond added.
They moved out at once, not wanting to waste the remaining hours of daylight. Having agreed not to call out to one another or use their hunting horns until they found Danise so as not to alert any lurking enemies, they resumed the search.
* * *
Danise did everything she could think of to delay Autichar. She pretended to be ill, saying she would lose the bread and rancid cheese she had eaten if she were forced to ride immediately after breaking her nightlong fast. In truth, the cheese was enough to make anyone sick, but she had eaten as much of it as she could, knowing she would need the nourishment it would provide.
Next, she dawdled among the bushes, claiming her bowels were greatly disturbed. Finally, when Autichar ordered her to mount her horse, she feigned dizziness until Autichar told her he would tie her onto the horse if she could not sit in the saddle unaided. After that, all she could do was protest that they were riding too fast for the peace of her delicate stomach.
During the morning the oppressive heat increased until soon it was easy to pretend that she did not feel well. The part of the forest
through which they were now traveling was dense, with heavy underbrush to slow their progress. After midday the heat grew worse. By midafternoon, when his men began to grumble, Autichar called a halt beside a stream that flowed down the side of a hill into a shallow pool. Here there was a general relaxation of the tight control Autichar had so far maintained over his men.
“We’ll rest and cool ourselves in the water,” Autichar decided. “By now, we are far beyond pursuit from Duren, so there’s time to stop for an hour.”
His casual remarks plunged Danise into despair. If they were so far from Charles’s camp, then there was little chance that she could escape and find friendly assistance.
She was going to attempt to escape anyway, for if she did not, her future was unthinkably horrible. If Autichar and his men killed her while she was trying to get away from them, it would still be a better fate than the one they planned for her. On the other hand, there was no point in arranging for her own death if she could possibly devise a better chance for herself.
On her knees by the stream, she splashed water onto her face and the back of her neck, wishing she could remove her clothing to wash all over as some of the men were doing. She turned her head so she would not have to see the naked, laughing Bavarians. And there, just a few paces from where she sat, was the opportunity for which she had been praying. The entrance to the cave was half hidden by bushes, but to Danise it was unmistakable. More bushes extended from the hillside back into the forest, where they merged with the general greenness.
The plan formed in her mind within a moment or two. At once Danise began to take action to save herself. Being careful that no one saw what she was doing, she removed from one of her braids the green and brown embroidered ribbon that bound the end of it. Concealing the ribbon in one hand, which she clutched over her stomach, she rose to her feet.
“What are you doing?” asked the man next to her.
“Sick,” she muttered. Still clutching at her stomach, she raised her other hand to her mouth. “Oh – oh! I’m going to be sick again.” She stumbled toward the bushes at the side of the cave entrance.
