"I didn't realize that was such a terrifying question."
The slave stopped bandaging his shoulder and moved to stand next to Roberta. Roberta still looked frightened. Malachi waited another minute and then he asked again, "When is your bairn due?"
Roberta's voice shook with terror as she asked, "Surely you can have nothing against my bairn?"
"Whether I do or whether I don't will depend entirely on you …" he was halted in his speech by the slave moving in front of Roberta.
Malachi was having trouble understanding these two women. He decided to see what would happen if he got a little bit angry. He glared at the slave. "I don't appreciate your refusing to answer my question. I asked you what your name is. Stop being difficult and tell me."
Roberta gripped the slave by the arm and moved her away from him. Malachi stared in astonishment. He was old enough to remember what it was like when they had plenty of women. He was even old enough to remember a few incidences where men had more than one woman, a wife and a mistress. As he recalled, the two women were always at daggers drawn with each other, not tripping over each other to protect one another. "You know, Queen Roberta, you've got to be the strangest wife I've ever met in my life. She's your husband's mistress and you're trying to protect her."
Roberta felt so angry, she had to take several deep breaths. She wanted to scream at the man. She waited until she had herself under control before she said, "You know, Healer, if one of us doesn't oversee having the King's rooms prepared for him; they're going to do a terrible job. Why don't you go and oversee it for me. I'll finish bandaging him." The slave nodded and excused herself. Roberta picked up the bandages and went back to bandaging his shoulder. "She's been here for seven years. No one knows her name, and do me the favor of never referring to that lass as my husband's mistress again. She was not his lover, but his favorite victim. I would also consider it a personal favor, which I know I have not the right to ask, but I will do anything if you would tell your men that the slave is strictly off limits."
"Do you realize that's the second time I've been told in an hour that she should be left alone by two women who under normal circumstances wouldn't give a damn about her? So I think you'd better explain what the hell is going on, and why you are afraid to answer a simple question like when is your bairn due?"
"Because I'm afraid you're going to kill my bairn." Roberta uttered the sentence so softly he barely heard it, then she burst into tears.
"All right, I can understand that fear given your husband, but I have no intention of harming your child ever. Whether your child ever forces me to harm him, you're the one who's really going to have something to say about that," Malachi said firmly.
"How do I have anything to say about that?"
"Because it's how you will raise that child which will determine whether I might have to kill it someday. Because if you raise your child to believe that I stole his father's throne and that I stole what was rightfully his, if you raise him to believe that he is to take back his kingdom, then your son and I are going to have a problem. But if you raise your child to be loyal, you raise him to believe that I am his King and I care about my people and that it accepts that it is my responsibility to protect you and your son and every person in my kingdom, then your son and I will have no quarrel."
Roberta put both of her hands over her belly and when she spoke she was a little bit hysterical. "I would never raise my child to fight you. I would never raise my child to think or to lust for the throne, because by all rights it has no right to the throne." She gasped and put her hand to her mouth.
"Why does Edmund's child have no right to the throne?" She started sobbing hysterically. It was several minutes before she regained her composure enough for Malachi to ask her again, "Why does Edmund's child have no right to the throne?"
"Because it's not Edmund's." He stared at her in disbelief. "If you want to judge me for what I did, go ahead. I don't care. I had to do something after the … last … incident."
Malachi cut her off. "What last incident?" She was shaking her head and opened her mouth, but Malachi again cut her off. "Do not mistakenly assume that that was a question you can refuse to answer."
"If I'm going to explain, you have to understand a wee bit more than just that instance. My husband married me three years ago. Under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn't have condescended to take a widow, but he felt it was inappropriate for him to be married to someone younger than his son's wife, otherwise he probably would've married Sylvie. Abby and Christian, the King's son just in case you didn't know, have been married for five years and are still childless. That's why the King married me, he needed a spare. Christian was the youngest of five, all of his other sons are dead. At first he had no issues with his virility, then I don't know, about two years ago he started having difficulties, only a particular activity could arouse him. Than about a year ago, he could only be aroused through violence." She shuddered as she remembered the beatings he would give the slave. "Of course he would never beat me. I am his Queen, for me to appear with bruises diminished his honor. I always had to be perfect, so he would beat the slave. Things got much worse." Roberta realized she could not continue the story if he was looking at her. She turned her back. "One night he came to my room. He wanted to try and father an heir and things would not cooperate, so he brought the slave and she did everything in her power to arouse him. Nothing was working. He finally became so enraged he started beating her. Normally when he beat her, it was with the cane and on the back so it didn't leave any scars or damage the face he had to look at. This time he was so angry that he didn't care. He was punching her, he grabbed her and threw her to the ground and began kicking her. I became terrified he was going to kill her and grabbed him and pulled him away from her yelling for him to stop it. He backhanded me and sent me to the ground. He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to my feet and that's when he informed me that he was going to teach me a lesson. He ordered one of his guards to come in and he ordered him to hold me while he continued to beat her. Watching me suffer while he beat her finally aroused him. He dragged her to her feet and threw her on the …" Her voice dropped to a whisper "… bed where he proceeded to sodomize her and when he was near his pleasure, he dragged her off the bed and threw her to the ground and he ordered his guard to leave. He was so angry that I had attacked him, he hit me several times and then he threw me on the bed and he raped me. When he was finished, he put his forearm across my throat and told me if I ever interfered again in his management of the slave; he would give her to his guards and make me watch while they took turns raping and beating her to death and he would make sure it took a very long time. And if I ever displeased him again, he would hit her ten times for every time he wished he could strike me." She doubled over hugging herself, crying hysterically.
Malachi got to his feet and gently gripped her by the arm and pulled her into his arms, resting her head against his chest. He stood there seething with rage. Every muscle in his body was taut.
After a little bit, she pulled free and wiped her eyes. "As I said, that was when I knew I had to do something. He was only going to become more violent. The only thing that would soothe him was an heir, but he didn't use the healer, he used the Doctor. So I went to the Doctor and I tried to reason with him. I tried to make him see that the only way to save the slave's life was to make my husband lose interest in her. I told him that he was going to find a way to convince the King that having sex with the slave was the reason why he had been unable to father an heir. I told him I didn't care what lies he told, they just had to be convincing. I don't know what he finally came up with, but it worked. Edmund stopped having sex with the slave. He still would occasionally have her please him other ways. I had Gertrude, who knows some about herbalism, come up with something that helps men with that wee problem they occasionally have. During the month it took for the slave to heal, I read every ridiculous book in this room on how to get pregnant and then I convinced someone to help
me with my problem. It worked perfectly. Edmund never doubted for a second that this bairn was his." Roberta bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for Malachi to say something.
"Who is the father?"
"I don't see why that's important. What are you going to do to him?"
"You liked this man well enough to give yourself to him and as a man I feel he has the right to be involved in his child's life. It would make perfect sense for me to marry you off, to get you out from underneath my roof. So I figure I'm going to make him marry you and then I'll make some nice public announcement about how he's going to raise the child as his own and then all of my problems are solved. I don't have to worry about your child trying to rise up in rebel and take the throne. You don't have to worry about me killing it one day and he gets his child. That should make everybody happy."
Roberta stared at him in surprise. "I'm the daughter of a nobleman; you'd let me marry a farmer?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, I guess you're probably not like Edmund. You're not obsessed with pureblood and preserving the noble line."
Malachi shook his head. "How did the slave come to be here in the first place?"
"It's an awful story." Malachi raised an eyebrow clearly indicating he was waiting for her to go on. "I don't know the whole story. I only know what Edmund told me. He was drunk and actually gloated about how he got her. About every other year, he went and toured the farms. She was one of the farmer's daughters. She was at home alone when he arrived. Apparently, he was in the process of raping her when her brother came in. There was some kind of struggle. The lad clearly lost against Edmund's guards. I say lad, he was more a man. Edmund forced him to watch as he finished raping his sister and then he cut his throat. Somehow he convinced the slave that her father would blame her for everything and that her only option was to come with him and be his slave." The dark look on Malachi's face frightened Roberta and she took several steps away from him.
Malachi turned his back as he balled up his fists and slammed them into the table. He did this several more times, but as always, it didn't make him feel any better. "Queen Roberta, would you be so kind as to show me to my room. I need a new shirt."
"Aye, of course, this way." She turned and headed out of the infirmary. Once they were in the hallway she asked, "Would you like me to have a bath sent to you?"
Malachi's brow furrowed for a moment, and then he remembered no running water. He groaned, then he sighed. He definitely needed a bath. "Aye, thank you."
"Are you going to remain in this castle, or return to your own?"
"My own, definitely my own, but I will remain here for a few months until I feel that things are as I would like them to be," he replied with a laugh.
"Is your wife going to come and run the household for you?"
"I have no wife, nor does my brother, nor do most of my men. Actually, all of the men I brought here have no wives. I left the married men at home with their families." Arriving at the King's chambers, Roberta opened the door and showed him in. The slave and another woman were just finishing making the bed. Malachi looked around. The lass with the butchered hair was cleaning out the fireplace. He was surprised that the three women were in this room right now, it was frigid. And they had all the windows open.
The third woman curtsied. "Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty? The room is ready."
"Aye, His Majesty would like a bath. Would you attend to it?"
"You're not going to prepare it in this room, are you?" questioned Malachi. Both women nodded. "Then let's hold off on the bath until the fire's going and this room has a chance to be warmed."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Begin preparing the water in an hour." Roberta turned back to Malachi. "Is there anything else you require of me, Your Majesty?"
"No, thank you." Everyone except the lass with the butchered hair excused themselves. Malachi crossed to the windows and began shutting them. It wasn't that he had anything against the cold, he just didn't like the idea being naked and wet in it. He was standing by the window staring out when he was startled by a woman speaking to him. He'd completely forgotten about the other lass. He turned back to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
"I just said, Your Majesty … I know I probably shouldn't be speaking to you. I hope you'll forgive me, but I just wanted to know … I wanted to ask you … the messenger you sent here, is he all right … he made it home, right?"
Malachi looked the lass up and down. There was something familiar about her. Even under all that soot, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, she was definitely very attractive. He narrowed his eyes as he remembered getting the impression that Duff was looking for something. Malachi crossed to the bell pull and pulled it. The lass looked frightened. A few moments later another woman entered. She curtsied. "You rang, Sire?"
"Aye, inform one of my men that I want Captain McNally brought to me at once."
"Aye, Your Majesty."
"Oh no, please, Your Majesty, I don't want any trouble. I'm sorry." The lass looked terrified and was backing away from him.
They'd been standing there in silence for some time before Malachi said, "You didn't introduce yourself."
"Slave."
Malachi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When I ask you a question, I expect a real answer. I am sure that your mother did not give you the name, Slave."
"Before the King turned me into a slave, my name was Sylvia, though everyone just calls me Sylvie."
"There, was that so very difficult, Sylvie? What did you do to get turned into a slave?" Malachi was quite certain he didn't want the answer. He was probably going to have to learn to stop asking questions.
She hesitated a long moment. "According to the King, I soiled myself with an unworthy man, though that's not what I told him."
"What did you tell the King?" Malachi asked.
Sylvie had her back turned to the door and didn't hear Duff enter. "I told him that his nephew, my betrothed, had come to my quarters the night before he left and took what he wanted from me …"
Before she could go on, both men said simultaneously, "Richter?"
It took her a moment before she realized it had been two men she had heard. She turned around just in time to see Duff striding towards the door. "Duff, no, wait!"
Duff froze as he heard his name. He turned around. It took him a second before he recognized Sylvie. "I'm going to kill him, Malachi," he said, turning back to the door.
Sylvie grabbed his arm. "No, Duff, wait, please, hear me out! It's not what you think!" Sylvie was pulling on his arm, then she realized what he said, that Duff was going to kill him. She had thought he was leaving because she had been with another man. She was so stunned, she let go of his arm and would've fallen had Malachi not caught her. "Richter is alive?"
"Duff, I command you to stay," ordered Malachi.
Duff turned back to them. "Oh, aye, Richter is alive and I'm going to kill him."
"No, you see, y'all interrupted before I had a chance to finish. I lied to the King when I said that. I knew he wouldn't risk me being pregnant and it might be Richter's. He would wait and see, then he would kill me. I was doing what I promised you I was going to do. I'd already heard that it wouldn't be much longer before your King would take our castle. I just had to stay alive a wee bit longer. I didn't like speaking ill of Richter, especially with him having been dead. He was a nice fiancé, the most he ever did was kiss my cheek, I swear."
Malachi drew back a bit to give them some privacy as Duff reached forward and caressed her cheek. "I appreciate you keeping your word. I guess I won't kill Richter today, and thank you for keeping your word." Duff realized he shouldn't be touching her. He didn't have the right. He pulled his hand back. He cleared his throat and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"Can we speak privately somewhere?" she asked shyly.
"I wouldn't know anywhere to be private. This is probably about as private as we're gonna get right now. Anyways, as far as Mal
achi is concerned, he probably wants to have a word with me."
"I didn't get you in any trouble, did I?"
"No, I got me in trouble. I lied to him, falsified my reports, left out some important information. Yeah, I definitely got me in trouble, so if you got something you want to say to me, you probably should say it before he kills me."
"I can't, not in front of him, not after what he said. I'd only get you in more trouble," she whispered softly.
Duff shrugged his shoulders. "If I've done something to get myself in trouble, I probably deserve whatever beating Malachi is going to give me; so you might as well go ahead and say it."
She opened her mouth several times trying to speak, but she couldn't seem to find the right words. They all sounded stupid or lame. Finally, she just reached out and took his hand and placed it on her belly. Duff's eyes widened and he shifted his hand slightly. There was a very slight, hard bulge on her belly. He moved his other hand alongside it. He stared down at her in disbelief. He felt tears pricking his eyes. "Are you all right, I mean both of you?"
Sylvie had never seen a man cry before. She was surprised to find tears in her own eyes. She sniffled, "Aye, we're both fine. Please look, I did this. It's my fault. You're not under any obligation to me, I just felt I had to tell you."
Duff sunk down to his knees and rubbed his face against her belly. He kissed her belly gently. "Don't worry, after Uncle Malachi kicks the shit out of Daddy, I will convince Mommy to marry me." He kissed her belly one more time, then stood up and turned around to face Malachi. He was not at all surprised to find Malachi standing almost directly behind them, nor was he surprised when Malachi decked him.
Second Age of Darkness Page 11
