by Speer, Flora
“My love,” she whispered softly, her heart filled to overflowing with peace and joy. “My dear, dear love.”
Chapter 11
Danise wakened to a morning of dazzling sunshine, to tree leaves glittering with the last, lingering droplets left by the previous night’s storm. The air was cool and dry, the breeze gentle. Clad only in Michel’s linen undershirt and his blue cloak, she stood in the door of the hut, looking out upon the sparkling day and recalling the events of the night. All of those events.
The slight tenderness between her thighs reminded her of the momentous change in her body, and the man who lay still sleeping within the hut provided proof of that other amazing discovery of her mind and heart. In loving Michel, she did not have to forsake Hugo’s memory or be disloyal to him. In the one man, she could love both. A smile curved her lips, happiness filled her being.
Michel stirred, stretching, and turned over. A tiny spot of blood upon the blanket next to him was evidence of their first joining. A second loving, near dawn, had caused Danise only the faintest twinge before passion overtook her. Michel had promised her that never again would there be discomfort. Henceforth, only pleasure would attend their lovemaking.
He was looking at her, his eyes shining with love. Danise went to him and knelt, holding out her arms with the cloak caught in her hands. When she dropped over him, his arms went around her and the cloak covered both of them.
“What a way to wake up,” he said, laughing.
“I do perceive that you are entirely roused from sleep and eager for the morning’s first activity,” she murmured.
“I am, but I’m going to restrain myself. After last night you ought to be sore and I don’t want to make matters worse for you.”
“You are much too considerate.”
“Don’t complain or I’ll forget my good intentions,” he teased. Then, sobering, he asked, “I hope you have no regrets about what we did?”
“I am too happy for regrets.”
“So am I. You are the woman I have wanted all my life and never found until now.”
“I know it. And you are the man for me. The only man.”
He looked a little puzzled by her words, but he did not mention Hugo. She was glad of his silence. She wanted more time to consider her new knowledge before she tried to explain it to him.
“Will we be able to reach Duren today?” she asked. “It is our duty to warn Charles as soon as we can about the scheme Clodion and Autichar have devised.”
“Not to mention relieving your father’s mind about your safety,” he added. “Or discovering what has happened to Redmond and Guntram and the rest of the men. We ought to leave here at once, but I hate to go. I will always think of this as a special place.” His arms tightened around her briefly, before he released her.
“There is just one problem,” Michel confessed later, after they were finished eating and dressing. “I’m not sure exactly where we are. So, let’s follow the stream and hope it spills into the Rur. If it does, we can use the river to guide us back to Duren.”
“How clever of you,” she said, and added, smiling at him, “I would have suggested the same course myself.”
“Imp.” He was laughing when he lined her onto his horse. “Ill have you know I learned that bit of wilderness lore in the Boy Scouts.” Seeing her raised eyebrows, he laughed again. Mounting the horse, he took up the reins and put a steadying arm around Danise. “Ill tell you all about the Boy Scouts some day,” he promised.
“There are surprising things for me to tell you, too,” she murmured.
“I look forward to it.” He paused to kiss her before urging his horse away from the charcoal makers’ settlement.
With a well-rested mount and weather that made action a delight instead of an overheated trial, they made good time, reaching Duren shortly after midday. Michel rode past the sentries, right through the camp, and up to the royal tents. Their passage created an outcry of relief and curiosity, so that by the time Michel let Danise down into Savarec’s waiting arms, the open space at the center of the Frankish camp was filled with people.
“My little girl, my dear daughter,” Savarec cried, embracing Danise over and over.
“In the name of heaven, Savarec,” said Sister Gertrude, “let the girl catch her breath before she faints from lack of air.”
“Michel.” Charles drew him aside. “Where are the others who were with you?”
“Redmond ordered me to carry Danise to safety,” Michel said. “I thought it best to obey him. I left him and the other men in combat with Autichar, who I believe had less than a dozen warriors to Redmond’s twenty or so. I would expect them to arrive with their prisoners before this day’s end. We agreed they would try to keep Autichar alive so he can talk to you, but Danise was clever enough to coax much of Autichar’s plan from him, and she’ll be happy to tell you about it.”
“Then I will see both of you in private at once. It would be well for me to have as much information as I can before I meet Autichar.” Raising his voice to be heard over the excited conversation of the Franks, Charles called out, “Savarec, will you bring your daughter and join me in my tent?”
“After such an ordeal, Danise needs to rest,” Sister Gertrude objected. Charles fixed her with a wise and knowing eye.
“You may come with us,” he said, “so Danise will need to tell the tale but once. Alcuin, you come, too.” He led the way into his tent, Alcuin close behind him, Savarec following with a protective arm around Danise. When Michel would have gone with them, Sister Gertrude stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Is she truly unharmed?” the nun asked. “I want to have the right words prepared to say to her if Clodion – if he -”
“Save for the abduction itself, Clodion did not hurt her. Nor did Autichar.” Michel’s eyes were on Danise’s back as her father escorted her into the royal tent.
“And you?” Sister Gertrude’s voice was sharper than usual. She moved in front of Michel, thus forcing him to take his gaze from Danise and look at her. Sister Gertrude regarded him in silence for a while, her expression gradually changing to one of disgust. When she spoke again her voice matched her face. “So, after all, you are like every other man.”
“I love her with all my heart,” he said. “It’s as though I have loved her since the beginning of time.”
“Which is what every man says to an innocent young woman when he is at the promising stage. Later, he forgets those promises and leaves her, as you will do.”
“I did not force her,” he said, beginning to be angry, “and I will not leave her.” He would have added that what he and Danise did in private was none of her business. Sister Gertrude did not give him the chance. She turned her back on him and stalked into Charles’s tent. Michel could only follow.
While Savarec interrupted frequently with exclamations of rage and dire threats against Clodion and Autichar, Charles listened in ominous silence to Danise’s story and to Michel’s report of the search for Danise and how they had found her.
“I do not know which angers me more,” Charles said when the tale was finished, “the treachery of a man I trusted for years, or the use of a maiden as a pawn in the plot. Danise, I commend your courage. Michel, I thank you, as I am sure Savarec also does, for your part in rescuing Danise. I do promise, you will be well rewarded for what you have done.”
“I didn’t do it for reward,” Michel said. “I did it for Danise. And for Savarec, who has been my friend since my first day at Duren.”
Sister Gertrude greeted these remarks with a derisive snort, and for a moment Michel feared she would announce that he had proven himself no true friend to Savarec when he made love to Savarec’s innocent daughter. It was Alcuin who prevented Sister Gertrude from saying anything.
“It seems to me that Danise is weary and would like to rest,” Alcuin said. “Perhaps our good Sister Gertrude would carry these happy tidings to Hildegarde. Later, Danise may wait upon the queen to recount her adven
tures.”
“An excellent idea,” said Charles, whose sharp eyes did not miss the way Sister Gertrude was looking at Michel. “Sister Gertrude, you are the one person who could speak to Hildegarde without overly distressing her for Danise’s sake.”
“I will go to her at once.” Sister Gertrude rose, adding in a stern voice, “I will speak to you later, Danise. You will find Clothilde at our tent, where she is doing the laundry.”
Scarcely had Sister Gertrude left Charles’s tent for the queen’s tent next to it, than there began a fresh noise of cheering and happy shouts of welcome. Those in Charles’s tent stepped outside to see what had caused the noise just as Redmond and the men he commanded arrived. Riding proudly by Redmond’s side was Guntram. In the middle of the company, surrounded by guards, was Autichar, his hands bound behind him, his feet fastened together by a rope drawn beneath his horse’s belly. His fanciful metal helmet was gone, but the red cloak still lay about his shoulders and his head was held high.
“I am mightily sorry to see you in such condition,” Charles said to him. “That a fine warrior like you should be brought to shame distresses me.”
“I have done nothing wrong,” Autichar replied.
Danise thought he must have seen her standing behind Charles, and known that she would tell Charles all she could about his plans, but Autichar gave no sign that he recognized her.
“Put him in a tent as distant from Clodion’s as you can,” Charles said to Redmond. “Let there be no message carried between them. Allow him no visitors. Keep Autichar well guarded, so he cannot escape. On the morrow, I will hear the case against him and his friend, Clodion.”
“Come, Danise,” said Savarec. “Come to our tents. Let me talk quietly with you. Assure me that you are indeed unharmed.”
“Thanks to Michel, I am,” she said. “Thanks to Redmond and Guntram, too, and all the others who searched for me.”
“To think that I could have been such a fool,” Savarec cried, “that I believed Lady Ingeborg. Ah, Danise, your father is not worthy of you.”
“It was not your fault,” she said, hugging him. “They are wicked schemers all, and you are an honest man. They took advantage of your trust.”
It took her quite a while to calm him down, to convince him she was unhurt by her experience, and by then Redmond had claimed Michel and borne him off to join the other young men who planned to spend the rest of that day exchanging their various versions of recent events while they celebrated the successful conclusion of the battle with Autichar. Saying he wanted personally to thank Michel, Savarec finally left Danise alone in the tent she shared with Sister Gertrude and Clothilde.
“Come down to the river,” said Clothilde, looking in at her. “I have kept two buckets of clean hot water after the laundry was done, and there is a bowl of fresh soap. I am going to scrub you clean, Danise, and then I am going to put you to bed. After such an ordeal, you will want to rest.”
“Not at all,” said Danise. “Why does everyone expect me to want to sleep? But I would like a bath and fresh clothes.”
Clothilde’s reaction to her discovery that Danise was wearing a man’s undershirt was almost comical.
“We were drenched in the rain,” Danise explained. “Michel had an extra shirt and it was dry.” She did not add that she had used her own shift to wash herself on the morning after she and Michel first made love, or that she had left the shift behind because in the cold stream she could not get it entirely clean of the blood then staining it.
“Of course,” said Clothilde, blandly ignoring the fact that in order to put on a dry undershirt, Danise would have to remove her dress. “Anyone would do the same. I will just wash the shirt and give it back to Michel when it is dry. And I won’t say a word about this to Sister Gertrude.” When Danise did not respond to her provocative comment, Clothilde. said with a sly smile, “If ever I needed to be rescued when I was a younger woman, I would have wanted it to be done by a fine, strong man like Michel. He likes you, Danise. I have seen him looking at you. If you want to meet him later, I can distract Sister Gertrude’s attention.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Danise was not scolding her servant. As she said the words, she returned Clothilde’s smile.
“I am not the least bit ashamed of what I am thinking,” Clothilde declared, “nor should you be. I am not so old that I cannot recall what it was to be young. A man like Michel will make you happy.”
Danise smiled again and said nothing more. Nor, later, did she answer Sister Gertrude’s persistent questions. But she was grateful when Clothilde drew the nun aside to voice her concerns over Savarec’s health and ask Sister Gertrude’s advice on whether he ought to have some medicine to calm him after so much excitement and worry. Danise had by this time reached a point where she did not want to make explanations or relive her frightening abduction. What she wanted as evening drew on, was to find Michel and go into his arms and be held by him. But there was no sign of Michel. He was still with his male friends.
Danise was wanted for a similar occasion among the women. She was obliged to pay a visit to the queen. Hildegarde was a kind lady, so though she made it clear to Danise that she had been deeply concerned for her safe return, she did not press Danise for every detail. Some of the women in attendance on the queen were not so polite. Before long Danise was heartily sick of pretending to answer probing questions while not actually saying much at all. Finally, pleading a headache, she asked Hildegarde for and received her release from the queen’s tent. Once outside it, Danise made her way to the riverbank, there to sit beneath the great oak tree in undisturbed peace at last.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Michel dropped down beside her. “If it were still daylight, I’d have gone to that place in the forest, but I was pretty sure you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere very far from the camp without a guard of some kind.” His hand found and held hers.
“I am so weary of people asking me if I am truly unhurt,” Danise said, “or if I want to rest.”
“I know. I faced a barrage of questions, too. I guess it’s to be expected, after what happened.” He paused, then spoke again. “Sister Gertrude knows we made love. She guessed.”
“I thought as much, from the questions she asked me. Which I did not answer.” Danise sighed. “I will have to tell Redmond that I cannot think of marrying him. It would be unfair to let him go on believing that I am still considering his suit when all I can think of is you. We must also tell my father. He deserves an explanation.”
“Let’s wait until Charles decides what to do with Clodion and Autichar,” Michel suggested. “Tomorrow’s trial is what is first on everyone’s mind just now.”
“Very well,” Danise agreed, glad to have an excuse to postpone telling her father or Redmond truths they would not be happy to hear. “After tomorrow, then.”
“Those two traitors aren’t the only ones who can make clever plans,” Michel confided. “I have a few schemes of my own to try.”
“I do hope one of them includes devising a way for us to escape the fond concerns of relatives and friends,” she murmured.
“You can be sure of it. For the moment, I think I ought to deliver you to your tent and say a proper good night.” He stood and offered a hand to help her rise. Before Danise knew what was happening, she was locked in his arms and his mouth was on hers. She knew then that just as she had been yearning to embrace him, so he had wanted to hold her during the hours when they were apart. She let herself dissolve into the sweetness of his kiss.
“That’s all I dare to steal tonight,” he whispered. “But soon, I promise you, we will be together again. Even Sister Gertrude won’t be able to stop us.”
From Sister Gertrude’s attitude when Michel said his proper good night at her tent entrance, Danise thought the nun’s future goal in life might well be to keep the lovers sternly separated. But Danise had her own private reasons for believing that nothing could keep her apart from Michel for long. He had been
sent to her across the centuries. He would not be taken from her now.
* * *
At mid-morning Charles took his seat on a foot-high wooden dais built just outside the entrance to his tent. Ordinarily, he moved among his nobles without any special designation of his royal state, and when he sat it was in a chair placed at ground level just like everyone else’s chair. On those daily occasions only his strong character and the respect in which he was held indicated that he was the elected king of the Franks. On this particular day Charles knew that all those assembled at Duren would want to see him clearly so they could observe for themselves how their king would dispense justice to the accused men. Thus, he ordered that the dais on which he would sit should be elevated above the others who attended, with only a few of his closest advisers standing around him.
That this would be a momentous morning no one present could doubt, and no one, including the queen, wanted to miss the excitement. Ignoring her unwell condition, Hildegarde insisted on joining her husband on the dais, saying it was her duty to be in her rightful place beside him. Alcuin was there, too, standing on the dais behind Charles and next to Charles’s uncle, Duke Bernard. At Charles’s command Savarec, along with all of the men who had taken part in the search for Danise, were given places close to the dais. Off to one side Adelbert and a second clerk sat at a table, inkpots and quill pens at the ready, prepared to record the proceedings and Charles’s decisions.
When everyone was in place, Autichar and Clodion were brought forth from the tents where they had been held. Blinking in the bright sunshine they were marched to low stools set facing the dais and far enough apart from each other to keep the two from conversing without their words being overheard. Lastly, Lady Ingeborg arrived in the custody of Sister Gertrude and was given her own stool.
“Danise,” Charles said as soon as all was in readiness, “I will have you speak first. When you have finished, stand here beside Hildegarde, where you can hear all that is said, and where I can ask further questions of you if it proves necessary. Do not be nervous, just tell us what was done to you.”
