Mark stared at the silver button, incomprehension still clouding his face as a crease appeared between his eyes. He reached for the button, pulled it off the cloth and looked at the polished silver in his hand. "Indeed it is mine. It bears my family's oatlen tree." He looked back at Adriana. "How came you by this?"
"I found it on the rocks by a stream near where I live. After I found Pait, he recognized it as his lord's. We went to find you, met Drave and Carne and Allat and," she shrugged as if to make light of all this, "we found you."
"Snatched me from the hangman, in truth and substance. I had the rope around my neck when Carne's knife cut the noose."
"I thank the Five Goddesses he was in time." And would until her last breath.
Pait was obviously confused; this did not quite jibe with what she'd told him. She prayed he would not contradict. "We must move on," she said. "I will show you the way through the forest so you will emerge close to Fort Dalban."
It took hours--they followed slowly as Mark was injured. Darkness fell, but at her insistence they continued until near dawn, emerging at the far rim of the forest. "The fort is but a few hours along that way," she said, pointing to road stretching over the meadows where wild beast grazed in a widespread flock. "May Rache speed your work."
"Lady," this time it was Carne of Carne who spoke, "will you not come with us?"
Go with them and suffer the blank unknowing eyes of the man she loved more than life itself? She shook her head. "No, sir. I belong in the forest. My mission is to serve Rache." Though she'd have to find a new way to honor the Goddess. Never could she let another man touch her now. "As you're sworn to serve your emperor. Go with the blessing of the Five Goddesses and your Five Gods."
Mark stepped forward and grasped her elbow with his hand (it was the way Astrians greeted each other), and, accepting the honor, she grasped his elbow. The touch of his flesh sent memories rushing like a bitter flood. Never could she forget him! To the end of her days she'd remember the sweet caress of his mouth on her lips, on her breasts, on her skin, between her legs. Blood rushed to her face as her body remembered his hard cock inside. She swallowed and looked up into his unknowing eyes. "I wish you the speed on your journey, Lord Mark of Windhaw, and may justice ever be your loyal servant."
He nodded. "At your behest, lady, I will pursue justice in my emperor's cause."
"And build that university?"
"If I have to lift the stones with my own hands."
Tears pricked behind her eyelids as the weight of his ring hung heavy round her neck. She rejected the temptation to draw it out and declare her love, offer him the proof of what they'd shared. To what avail would that revelation be? He had no memory of her. Her lover knew her not.
Carne and Drave offered her the same farewell salute. Allat bowed and Pait made the best effort he could with a crutch and his still bound foot. "Lady, I owe you my life," he said.
"Use it wisely then, Pait. Life is precious." She smiled to conceal the misery inside.
Parting was not that easy, but at last, with her insistence that speed was of the essence, they left. She stood in the rim of the trees and watched them go. Pait turned at a distance and waved. She waved back, knowing he could not see her among the trees. From Mark there was no sign. How could there be? He did not know her.
That thought carried her a distance into the forest before misery engulfed her. She knelt on the loam and wept, praying the forest floor would open up and swallow her and her sorrow.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Adriana sobbed until she slept, worn out by despair. Her energy was drained by the magick she'd wrought and her body was fatigued by the strains of travel and lost sleep. When she woke it was daylight.
What now? Hareth and her goods remained in Merridale. Host Martten would take care of Hareth and her wares she could replace. She would not return to Merridale--not yet. But could she go back to the shrine and the ever-present memories of Mark? No! She was not that strong. To Aenwath and visit Eadyyl and Eadwyn? They had succored her before when her heart was all but rent from her body with sorrow.
She stood up, brushed leaf mold and dirt off her clothes, picked up the leather satchel of food and provisions the Astrians had insisted on leaving with her and set her feet toward her mentors' haven.
The sight of their welcoming faces and open arms all but undid her. She hugged them both, sat on a flat rock in front of their cave and wept in both their arms. "Eadyyl, Eadwyn," she sobbed. "I am so torn, I cannot think!"
"No need." Eadyyl's old hands stroked her head as she held her close. "You are too exhausted to think. Rest and when you awaken then we will talk."
Adriana gladly sipped the tisane Eadwyn had prepared. As she lay down on the sleeping furs, Adriana thought herself too frazzled to sleep. She was wrong. The soothing drink did its work and before long she was sleeping deeply enough to be oblivious to the concerned whispers between her mentors.
* * *
She woke after sleeping the day around. She was stiff, aching, and heavy-headed, but the sight of the old familiar rock roof overhead, the sounds of Eadyyl humming in the sunshine and the cascade on the rocks outside, all took Adrian back, for a few moments, to her childhood and the love she'd known from her foster mothers. For a few moments, it was as if she were a child again, safe in the deep forest. But child she was not! And had not been for years. Her heartbreak was a woman's heartbreak.
"Good morrow, child," Eadyyl said as Adriana emerged into the light.
She would always be "child" to these old women--and old they were now. Eadyyl's welcoming smile added even more creases to her lined face. Adriana hugged Eadyyl close, but the closeness only underscored the frail old body. "I have stayed away too long," Adriana said. "I have neglected you both."
"No, child. We have our work and you have yours. We both serve our Goddesses. Now, you go and bathe, my dear. You smell of travel and turmoil." Not to be wondered at! Her life had been nothing but for the past few days! "Go to the springs and we will prepare food to break your fast. We have fowl now. Eadwyn clips their wings so they cannot fly far. She is gone now to gather eggs for you."
"I have food, too." Adriana went back into the cave for the satchel Carne of Carne had insisted she take. "This, in itself, is part of my story. Take what you need and when I am washed I will tell you all."
Adriana went to their warm spring. It was larger than hers and the stonework even finer. How Mark would exclaim at the sight of this! She shut her eyes. Mark, and the love they'd shared, was past. She had taken herself from him. Helped save him, yes, and now she was back in the world where she belonged. She looked down at her legs and feet. Eadyyl had been right, she badly needed a wash. By the edge of the pool next to the folded drying cloths was a clean shift and a worn but mended gown and a twisted girdle.
Adriana dropped her long-worn clothes to the ground and leapt into the pool, closing her eyes as the warm water splashed her face. She then dipped her head fully under the water. How wonderful it felt! She made herself banish the memories of bathing with Mark. She would lose her mind if she dwelt on the unattainable. She scrubbed her skin with sand and immersed herself in the water time after time, emerging clean and refreshed. She dried off quickly, pulling on the clean clothes and rubbing her hair dry before tugging out the tangles and knots with a wooden comb.
She was clean, hungry and ready to face her mentors, her mothers--by fact if not by blood. Indeed the memory of her own mother was so faint she could scarce remember her face. So much had happened since those long gone days. She was no longer a scared child but woman--a woman who'd saved the life of the man she loved and was now condemned to live without him.
So be it.
She braided her hair, tying the end with a twisted thread as she walked through the cave.
Eadwyn had returned and embraced Adriana. "It is an answer to prayer to have you with us again. Come, I found eggs and Eadyyl has heated the cooking stones." She had also roasted roots and warmed the ham from
Adriana's satchel. "You must tell us how you came by this meat. A luxury indeed, child."
"The ham is just the end of what I have to tell." Adriana sat down between them. "My heart has been torn."
"Hearts mend," Eadwyn said, "and most sorrows ease when shared." She handed Adriana a trencher of warm food and a mug of tisane. "Let us eat and you tell what has disturbed you so."
Adriana ate. Their plates were scraped and the fire down to ashes and embers by the time she had finished. Eadwyn had been right. The hurt had eased with telling. But now Adriana feared their judgment for compromising her oath.
For a long time they said nothing. They just sat on the grass as the birds sang overhead. Maybe she should stay here with them forever. But no, she was no longer a child to be cosseted and cared for. She was a woman and must face life--alone.
"You love him, Adriana, don't you?" Eadwyn asked.
Adriana nodded. "If what I feel is love, I love him."
"What do you feel?" Eadyyl asked.
"When I was with him, I felt complete. Not just the physical pleasure--much as that astounded me--it was as if he filled what had been missing in me." And now she would live bereft for the rest of her days.
"Do you not think he knows that too?" Eadwyn asked.
"He does not remember me! I took that away from him!"
"He may not remember you, Adriana, but do you think he could forget your joining? The joy you shared and gave each other?"
"What am I to do?"
"Go back to Rache, tend your goats and think. The answer will come."
She wanted a guidepost, a signal. But looking at the two women who'd loved her since they had rescued her from the outskirts of her village, she knew the answer was not here. "Will you pray that I find direction?"
"How could we not, child," Eadwyn said.
"Your heart knows the direction," Eadyyl added. "Just look inward."
"The day is fine, the clouds high," Eadwyn said. "You can be back at Rache's springs by nightfall. There, you will find the answer."
Still unsure, but trusting her mentors, Adriana set off and arrived back by moonlight. By the time she walked up the path by the stream toward her cave, she was tired but resolute.
She dropped the satchel inside the cave and went through to the warm pool. She walked around the edge, watching the glimmer of moon on the dark water, remembering.
Eadyyl and Eadwyn insisted her heart knew what to do, but it seemed her heart was too hurt and torn to know anything but pain. What could she do but petition Rache? Adriana climbed the escarpment until she reached her perch high above the pool. From here she could look toward the plain where she'd seen Mark of Windhaw first approach and back into the forest that had sheltered her all these years. She sat back against the rock and looked out into the night, praying for guidance. She nodded, dozed and forced herself awake. Sometimes she dreamed, and sometimes she sensed she was seeing into her past and the deep recesses of her mind.
* * *
By the time the dawn paled the sky, Adriana had resolved her course.
It took her five days to prepare--to tidy her cave, and neaten the shrine, and gather what provisions she could. She cleaned the sluices of the bathing pool so they would operate in her absence. One day, perhaps, another priestess would come to tend the springs. She packed the last of her belongings and prepared all her remaining herbs and simples. Each night she prayed on the escarpment, and each night the same answer came.
She loved Mark of Windhaw. And just as she had allied with Astrians to save him, now she must risk all to join him. She took on faith Eadwyn's conviction that he retained the memory of their pleasure.
With the shrine cleansed, she summoned Hareth's mate, Tynda, a bad tempered ewe. The goat resisted being harnessed and ran off into the forest and refused Adriana's call. Was this an omen? Would she lose Mark, too? It was a temptation to stay safe in the forest. But no. Her heart called her beyond the sheltering trees. Discarding what she could not carry, Adriana shouldered the rest and set off though the forest.
It was another two days before she emerged at the spot where she had watched Mark ride away toward Fort Dalban. She was weary but took her waterleather from her shoulder and drank deep of Rache's water. She washed her face and hands, then stepped out of the shelter of the trees. The herd she'd noticed before still grazed in the fields, beyond them lay a small village, and beyond that the towers of Fort Dalban.
Distances on the plains were deceptive. It was night before she stood before the fort, and all gates were closed. Her request of the sentry to speak to Lord Mark of Windhaw was met with harsh refusal and a swipe of a rifle butt. She bit back her tears and anger as she retreated and found shelter a distance away in a barn. But she wept bitter tears amongst the straw. To come this close and be refused! But in the morning, the gates would be open. No doubt even soldiers feared the night.
Morning found the gates flung open. As she approached, she glimpsed activity within--soldiers mounting horses, shouts and commands. Could she perhaps slip in? And then what? How in this bustle would she find Mark? If indeed he were still there. What if he had already left? No! She sensed in her heart he was there, but anxiety tugged at her mind. All was not well.
Indeed not! She was still barred from entering.
This guard was civil. "Regrets, mistress, but we are in readiness for action. No one may enter without authorization."
She closed her fingers around the gold ring that still hung around her neck. "I carry the seal of Mark of Windhaw," she said, holding out the ring.
"I can only admit with the emperor's sigil, mistress. It is my orders." From inside came the sound of more shouts and the noise of scores of harnesses and hooves as men mounted and assembled. "Stand clear, mistress--they ready to leave and will stop for no one."
Resigned, she stood aside as the first horsemen approached. As they neared, she looked up. "Carne of Carne!" she called.
He pulled rein as did the other leaders. One signaled for the column to halt. "Lady Adriana! You are here! By the Gods, it is an answer to prayer."
"How so, Carne of Carne?"
"We have need of your healing skills. Lord Mark..."
"He is ill?"
"Gravely, lady. Would seem he took on a miasma in the master's dungeons. Mark fell ill shortly after we arrived here, and we fear for him."
Her heart stilled, to come this far and... "He is dying?"
"Not if your skills can save him as they saved Pait." He turned to the sentry. "Have Lady Adriana conveyed to Lord Mark's sickroom. She is a renowned healer." Carne leaned in his saddle, grasping her hand and elbow. She sensed astonishment among the others that he used the salute reserved for emperor's men. "I must away, lady. We have five parties of the emperor's horse to impose law and righteousness in these parts. I have temporarily abandoned my audit to soldier, but I beg you, do what you can for my friend."
"I will do everything in my power."
With a wave, he slackened his reins, his mount stepped forward and the entire column passed.
The sentry gave her an appraising look, but remembering his orders he led her across the wide courtyard, even offering to carry her pack. She was passed onto another soldier with, "Lord Carne's orders. She'd a healer come to treat the sick lord." Finally she was led to a room in the lower part of the tower. There were two beds in the room, one neatly rolled up--the covers folded in military precision, the other tumbled and rough--a man tossing fitfully under the covers. The room smelled of decay and sickness. The windows needed throwing open, but first she crossed the room and looked down at the sleeping face, with lips that muttered nightmares of fever dreams and golden hair drenched and slick with sweat.
Had she tarried too long? Was he dying? Not while she lived and breathed!
She turned at a sound by the door. It was Pait, using just one crutch now, and the bruises on his face much faded. "Lady!" His young face broke into smiles. "You have come to save my lord!"
"Indeed I have, Pait!
And I need your help."
Pait still hobbled, but he enlisted another page, Bavel, to help them. Bavel and Pait brought clean bedclothes, drying cloths and a brazier to heat kettles of warm water.
Adriana prepared tisanes, and, when he woke, made Mark take sips as best he could. She washed his body with warm water scented with lavender to ease his fever. As she rubbed the soft cloths over his heated skin, she indulged in the sight of his beautiful body.
Dear Rache! Let him recover so she could know that wondrous cock again.
There were hard days ahead. After Lord Carne's direction, she had no trouble obtaining broth or clean linen or whatever she ordered. Pait and Bavel followed her directions and the looks of wonder on Bavel's face convinced her Pait had embellished the tales of his rescue and Mark's escape from Merridale.
Even the day sergeant who passed the room addressed her as "Lady Adriana of Merridale." And one afternoon, the commander Gret of Allburn appeared, asked after Mark's health, and promised her all the help that lay in his hands to offer. It was, he said, a difficult time--orders from the emperor, miscreants to be confined, even a treasonous fort to be overcome. But no matter...if she needed anything it was hers to command.
She got a bigger room for Mark, with large windows. More air, more light and a fireplace where she could heat water and food without smoke filling the room. But still Mark languished. She dressed Pait's feet. They were near to mended--he could walk without crutches if he kept weight off his heel. And a day later, he and Bavel left to carry a missive to Merridale. She missed the boys, but the commander appointed a soldier named Fanic to fetch and carry for her.
She had all the aid they could give. Mark's condition did not worsen, but neither did it improve. Adriana was at her wit's ends. She prayed to Rache each morning. She even entered the stone church across the courtyard and prayed to whatever Astrian God might be listening. But Mark of Windhaw still muttered in his weakness and fever.
One evening, worn out with anxiety and fatigue, Adriana sat by his bedside, bathing his face with lavender water. Her touch soothed him, that she could see. But she was close to exhaustion after her long watch at his side. Her eyes stung with tiredness and her lids drooped as she looked down at the face of the man she loved--the man who'd shown no sign of recognition all these weary days and nights. Dropping the cloth in the bowl beside her, she stroked his cheek, ran her fingers down his neck and caressed his shoulder. How she longed to feel him close, to lie in his arms as she had in the peace and safety of the shrine. Here in these cold walls, he knew her not, but she knew and loved him, driven by need and the ache deep in her soul, she lifted the covers and lay down beside him.
PARADOX II Page 9
