PARADOX II

by Rosemary Laurey

  Satisfied she had done all she could to ease his travel, she now had to set her mind and skills to the potion of endurance. It was strong and golden-colored like the autumn crocuses. She had made a good quantity, enough to fill two drinking cups. To work the time delay spell on his memory she would need all the strength she could muster.

  Setting the cups to one side, she burned sacred herbs before her doorway and prayed for strength and power. As the small flame died she took the cooling ash and sprinkled it along the path that led away from her haven.

  The horse chomped by the side of the stream, and Adriana paused to run her hands down the animal's neck. A fine and handsome beast--a deep brown like ripe nuts after a hard frost, with a mane as black as the darkest corner of a cave. The beast whinnied at her touch as if sensing the power in her hands. Mark of Windhaw might doubt wood magick, but his mount knew better.

  Leaving the horse by the cool spring, Adriana reentered her cave, took the two cups from the ledge and carried them through the tunnel to where Mark still slumbered. Naked. Indeed, he was comely in his skin and since this was the last time she would ever see him, she would indulge her yearning and feast her eyes, stealing one final sight of his glorious male beauty.

  Setting the cups down on the edge of the warm pool, she knelt beside him and brushed his fair hair from his face. How strange life was! That this man of honor and gentleness was of the same stock as the oppressors. Mayhap there were others of his ilk. It was that hope that justified her sparing him. If Mark of Windhaw and others of the emperor's appointment could set things right then she would speed him on his way with all the aid she could summon.

  Stifling a sigh at her coming loss, she kissed his cheek, brushing her lips across the rasp of his beard. She wanted to bottle the sensation of her lips on his skin and the scent of sleeping male. Preserve it to remember during the future without him. He'd promised to return. She had to ensure he never would.

  "Dear sir," she whispered, smoothing his hair off his face. "My love." She almost choked on the words she never thought to utter. "Mark of Windhaw, the night has passed and you must awaken."

  At her word, his eyes flashed open, dark pools of clear blue looked up at her as he smiled and reached out. She let him pull her head down and permitted herself the indulgence of a kiss. The sweetness of his touch brought tears to the corners of her eyes. She could not, would not, weaken.

  "I hate to leave you, dear Adriana," he said, "and you have my word I will return. I will mark with flashes the path back to your dwelling."

  More work to conceal the track, but necessary. "I have brought an infusion of herbs. It will give you strength and alertness on your way. I also have a pouch of such herbs. If you tire on the road, just steep them in hot water to restore you energies."

  "You are too kind, Lady Adriana." He looked up at the sun climbing overhead. "Alas, I must go. I never meant to tarry this long, but I bless the Five Gods that I lost my way and found you."

  So saying he stood, and once again she feasted her eyes on the sheer male beauty of this man. This Astrian. Her lover. This soul of honor who would avenge the slain and dispossessed. She stood as he walked over to his clothes she'd folded neatly. She watched as he pulled on his leather breeks and tunic, marveling at the turn of his thigh, the curve of his knees and the flat plane of his belly. She handed him his belt as she straightened his tunic. He kissed her fingertips as he took it. It took all her strength to stifle the sigh.

  Dressed, he took both cups and handed her one before sitting beside her. They were not touching. It was as if he, too, was aware of closeness that would test both their resolves.

  "Your health, sweet Adriana," he said, raising his cup.

  "And yours, Mark of Windhaw. May your mission prosper."

  "Aye." He shook his head and smiled at her. "Duty is a hard mistress. Would I could stay here with you, but to do so I would be forsworn."

  "Then you must go. Honor is of great worth to both of us."

  He sipped again, licking the sweet brew from his lips. "'Tis a strange infusion, lady."

  "A blend of forest herbs. Together, they banish fatigue. Now you will ride without tiring, and arrive refreshed. Do not take it too often, and never more than two days at a stretch, but you have a supply if needed."

  They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the sun dance on the still waters. A blue pelwit flying low to peck at moss on a rock was the only other sign of life. It was as if time hesitated. For these few fleeting minutes they had each other, before the world reclaimed him.

  Knowing tears were close, she stood. "Dear sir. I would keep you here forever if I could, but..."

  "Aye." He rose. "I must away. How the tales of evil lurking in these woods lied. Here, in the deep forest, I found beauty beyond compare." She took his hand and together they walked around the rim of the pool toward the tunnel. He paused and looked over his shoulder before entering as if to imprint on his mind the memory of their time beside the water. A memory she had to erase.

  Adriana paused in the cave to fill a small bag with the promised herbs. If they could help him later, so be it. Rache could spare a few dried leaves.

  When she reached him, he was saddling his mount. Soon, too soon, he would be gone forever. The horse whinnied and stamped her hooves in her need to be away.

  Mark of Windhaw paused after tightening the girths and took a step toward Adriana. "Nothing I can say can measure what burns inside me. Sweet Adriana, I will, I must return. For surely we are soulmates. Wait for me. It may be weeks before my work is done but I will come. You have my word."

  "Speak not of the future. Let me remember a constant now." Standing on tiptoe, she cupped his face with her hands, her fingertips brushing his cheeks and forehead. As his lips came down, she blocked out the sensations, forcing her mind on his, willing him to forget her and this place. Forcing forgetfulness into his heart and will. What more could she do? "Let me have a token," she asked. "A kerchief."

  He pulled one from his pocket. "'Tis scare enough, Adriana." It was enough to weave the spell. "Wait!" He pulled a heavy gold ring off his finger. "Take this, my love. It is the seal of my house. This is my pledge that I will return."

  Her fingers closed over the metal. Warm from his skin.

  "I will guard it," she said, "and remember." For the rest of her days.

  With a last kiss, he mounted and turned down the hill. At the curve he looked back and waved. Adriana watched as he disappeared through the trees. She would never see him again.

  She blinked back the tears that pricked behind her eyelids. No time now for pity. With his handkerchief she could work stronger magick still. She lit a small fire, brought out a small flagon of oil and more herbs and spread the handkerchief on the rocks. As the herbs burned, she sang a hymn to Rache--a long song of supplication. Her own loss was her offering to Rache. Offered in return for the safety for Mark of Windhaw who had come to right old wrongs. Adriana built the ceremonial fire higher, casting on handfuls of dried hayweed and forra root. All day she tended the fire, her mind seeing Mark as he rode out of the forest across farmland. As the sun dipped, she cast his handkerchief on the fire. It flared and burned fast, and as the ash cooled she gathered it up and cast it into the water. She watched the last gray traces float down the stream. He was gone from her life and, as soon as the sun set, he would remember her no more.

  Taking advantage of the last of the daylight, she set out down the path to check the trail. True to his word, he'd set blazes on the trees and marked a dividing of the way with rocks. No matter. Rocks were reset and marked bark muddied or disguised. She planted a fast growing climber against one blaze and on another she cut off the limb. Returning along the path, she brushed the way behind her with a leafy branch.

  The path was hidden. No traveler would ever find the shrine unless she called him. And she would not call. Not while she carried Mark of Windhaw in her heart.

  She made it up the last few turns until she saw the flat rocks wher
e she and Mark had shared their food. Misery swept over her. She ran the last few paces and threw herself on her sleeping furs. The lingering male scent of her lover undid her utterly. She buried her head in the furs and let her tears fall free, lamenting her loss. By the time the moon rose over the escarpment, she had cried herself to sleep.

  * * *

  Adriana slept fitfully and woke with an aching head and eyes sore from weeping. She, who'd always slept alone, yearned to feel Mark's body beside her. Lying awake at dawn, she fancied she heard Mark's horse whinny outside, she even ran to see, but there was no horse, phantom or otherwise, only the stream burbling down the hill and birds welcoming the sunrise. For one bereft moment, she regretted erasing all traces of the horse's hoofs.

  She was demented! Mark of Windhaw was gone. And forever! She remained. She still had her calling to protect the sacred springs and serve her Goddess. For a few heart- wrenching minutes, she looked down the path to the bend where she'd last seen Mark of Windhaw as he waved farewell. Enough! She must bury her loss in service and labor. She would spend the day gathering herbs and berries. That resolved, she strode up the path and climbed to the top of the escarpment to watch the sun rise over the trees. As the glory of another golden morning warmed the air, she called Hareth, her largest goat. Whatever she gathered, Hareth could carry with ease.

  Descending to the ground, she entered her cave to gather bags and baskets, but hesitated at the glint of shining metal on the path. A silver button from Mark's tunic! Wisdom dictated she destroy it--throw it in the stream or bury it deep. Foolishness brought more comfort. While Hareth arrived and chewed on the daises by the stream, Adriana took a steel trade needle and sewed the button inside the pocket of her cloak. No one would ever see it, but she could finger the raised crest of the metal--if she ever wished. Now she had two mementos of her love: the ring, even now heavy on a thread around her neck, and the button hidden in her pocket. No one would ever see them, but she would always know.

  She strapped leather bags and a pair of baskets on Hareth's back, packed dried berries and roots and filled two water skins. Cloak over her shoulders and walking staff in hand, she set off deep into the forest.

  * * *

  She had a linen-lined basket half-full of sweetberries and several pouches of herbs by the time she paused for rest. Roots did not taste the same without ham. Best forget that! Roast roots and berries had satisfied her before. They would now. She stood up, brushed the grass and dust off her skirts and took hold of Hareth's leash. She had many more hours of light and a good way ahead there was a grove of purple drupe trees. It was too early to pick them, but if the crop looked to be as heavy as last year she would bring extra baskets to gather them later. Best be prepared.

  She had walked for a distance, skirting a shallow trench overgrown with brambles and wild vines. She was near the edge of the forest and walked cautiously, alert to sounds of intruders or travelers passing the forest fringes, when she heard a noise. Not a horse or even a foot traveler, it sounded like the mewl of a weak puppy--a sound she'd not heard since childhood. Memories tumbled back of playing with the litter of puppies with her sisters...and fast on that pleasant memory came images of the slaughter. Enough! Mark would right that wrong. But the sound continued. Whatever creature lurked in the undergrowth, it was too weak to do harm.

  Leaving Hareth nibbling a bush, Adriana drew her skirts tight and gingerly parted the vines and brambles with her staff. The sound came from her left. The deeper she walked in the trench, the louder and clearer the cries. "Never mind, puppy, I'm coming." A louder mewl answered her, and then a weak distorted human voice. "Help. I beg you!"

  Shocked, she ran the last few meters, heedless of the scratches on her legs and arms. In a hollow lay the naked body of a child. A boy, she realized, as she came closer. An injured boy. His feet and legs were bleeding, and his body was covered with scratches. A trail of broken and bent bracken lay behind him. He must have crawled this far along the base of the ditch, but been too weak to climb out. Yet he was not too feeble to look up and beg. "Lady, I entreat you." He held up his arm, and Adriana stared in horror at his bloodied swollen fingers, and his face, bruised and swollen, eyes half-closed. Who could have done this? Astrians! Who else? Bile rose to her throat at the realization that this child had perhaps been battered by the man she'd shared her bed with yesterday. The man she'd let ride away unharmed! Ye Goddesses, how had she been duped!

  Time later to dwell on that mistake! Now she had a child to tend. "I can help you," she told him, pulling off her cloak and covering him. "It will take time, and will pain you when I move you."

  "Lady," he mumbled through his swollen face. "Take me anywhere, I fear they may return."

  "I will protect you." Mist could hide as well as distract and in this hollow they could bide if need be. Listening, she heard no others nearby. Whoever his attackers were, they had long gone. They were safe enough but it would be no easy task to lift him out. "Wait," she said. "I will be back."

  She went up the slope to fetch a waterleather, the linen liner from one of the baskets and a pouch of herbs. She could ease his immediate pain and cleanse his wounds, but how to get him out? The boy could not walk on his injured feet. He might be able, with her help, to crawl up the sides of the trench, but he couldn't drag himself the several hours needed to return to her cave. And he was far too heavy to carry. A travois might serve.

  She climbed back down; the child opened his eyes at her approach. "Lady, I have been so afraid..."

  She understood fear of the Astrians. "Hush, you will be safe. Here, drink." She held the water skin and he gulped down mouthfuls. Who knew how long he'd been lying here? "I can bind up your wounds and clean them a little, but to treat them properly I must take you to my home where I have herbs and salves.

  "I cannot walk, lady."

  "No matter, I can construct a travois to carry you to my home. It will take me a little time and first I must dress your wounds." She handed him a sliver of andine bark from her bag. "Suck on this. It will ease your pain."

  It also left him drowsy, but all the better. Using a torn scrap of linen, she washed off his wounds. It took all her control not to gasp in horror. The soles of his feet had been burned with hot irons, and the bleeding swollen fingers had had nails ripped out. Who could be so inhuman?

  Astrians! And she'd permitted one to seduce her from her path with gibber about learning and justice while his cohorts tortured a child and left him naked in the forest for the wild animals to finish off.

  But she would foil them. Utterly.

  She had to get the boy to safety at the shrine and the day was passing. Building a travois to carry him would take time. She had to cut the branches she needed and getting him up the slope would be a painful labor--for both of them.

  Best start now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sun had dropped halfway to setting by the time she'd hacked enough branches and lashed them together. Hareth was willing to be led down the slope, but less than pleased to have the weight of the travois harnessed to his back. It was unfortunate, but necessary. She could never have moved the child on her own. He cried out in pain as she dragged him to the travois, but she placed more bark in his mouth. Then, steeling herself to ignore his cries, she strapped him to the branches with her belt and lengths of young vines.

  At her urging, Hareth complied and hauled the injured boy up and out of the trench. As they set homeward, Hareth picked up the pace just a little. Along the way, the child fainted. Perhaps it was a mercy.

  They reached the shrine as the sun was dipping on the horizon. Adriana led Hareth inside, unfastened the strapping and lowered the travois to the ground. "You're safe now," she told the child. "I must tend your injuries properly, but will first brew you a draught to ease the pain and help you rest."

  Dark eyes looked up at her from his ashen face. "Lady, they mean ill to my lord."

  "I know," she replied, touching the small hand clutching her cloak that still covered
him. "They do harm wherever they go. But they can never find you here." He relaxed a little, but pain still etched his face. "I have salve and potions to help heal your hurts."

  He drank the infusion willingly but, when she started to bathe him with warm water, his nudity shamed him. She saw that from his averted eyes and his attempts to turn away. But if she did not cleanse the wounds they would fester. He had injuries enough without adding infection to his ills. So as she bathed him, she talked to him. She told him he was now safe under the Goddess Rache's protection and none could hurt him. How she herself had been rescued from harm and had learned the way of the forest.

  Was it an omen, she wondered, that she would find an injured boy, just as she'd been found and rescued? Time would tell. She sensed deep in her heart it was more than chance that she had found him--that their futures were linked.

  But for now, his future lay in rest. He was all but asleep by the time she dressed his last wounds. She propped his shoulders on a rolled up cover and fetched the infusion of andine bark with poppy seed to help him sleep. "Drink," she said. "It will ease the pain and help you sleep."

  He nodded and sipped as she held the bowl. When he had finished, she lowered his head and covered him with sleeping furs. He was asleep in minutes.

  She lit a small fire to keep the child warm and stepped out by the stream and wove a spell of protection around them. The effort drained her after the day's exertions and she, too, was asleep at once.

  * * *

  She woke to dawn light gleaming through the cave opening. The child was, as she'd hoped, still deep in drugged sleep, and if she'd measured aright, would sleep the day around. The longer the better. Rest would heal him and she needed to fashion crutches for when he was well enough to move. His right foot was hideously burned and would take weeks to heel. But for now she must needs take care of herself. She'd fallen asleep without washing, and still had leaves and twigs in her hair from the forest. One look at her arms and legs showed she had scratches that needed care.