Love Beyond Time (19 page)

“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.

“Let her go,” said a second man when the
first would have climbed out of the stream to follow Danise. “She
can’t escape. There’s nowhere for her to hide, and I’m tired of
guarding her while she pukes, or squats in the bushes and groans.
After listening to her this morning, I’d rather kill her than guard
her. I don’t know what Autichar is keeping her for.”

“I know. And so does Clodion,” said his
fellow with a loud, suggestive guffaw.

Danise had by now reached the bushes near to
the cave entrance. With a moan and a gasp as realistic as she could
make them, she plunged behind the concealing leaves. Getting down
on her knees she crawled toward the cave opening and tossed her
hair ribbon inside. If Autichar’s men found it when they began to
search for her, they might waste precious time looking through the
cave, believing she had foolishly fled into it. Praying that the
cave would prove to be long and deep, Danise moved back into the
bushes, pausing to moan and gag again in case anyone was listening.
Then, carefully, she worked her way around the side of the hill,
trying to stay within the shelter of the bushes.

That morning she had heard Autichar say he
would head south and east toward the Rhine, which meant she would
have to flee northwestward. The only way she could keep herself on
course was to head into the path of the sun, which was beginning to
move lower in the sky. It was not an easy thing to do there beneath
the trees, with their leaves hiding most of the sky and with the
need to stay hidden in the underbrush. After a while, hearing no
sounds of pursuit behind her, Danise forsook caution. She stood up
and began to run.

It had been too easy. She should have known
they were only playing with her, letting her believe she had
escaped, letting her run herself into exhaustion before they began
the chase.

Perhaps
, Danise thought as she dodged
the scratching branches of yet another bush,
perhaps Autichar
never intended to take me to Bavaria at all, never meant for
Clodion to have me. And when they catch me, after they finish what
they – what they will do – they will kill me
.

Pain stabbed at her side, taking her breath
away. She tripped over a tree root, but she caught herself before
she hit the ground. Terrified of spraining an ankle and being
forced to stop, she pressed onward. She could not afford to slow
down or try to be more careful where she stepped. There was no time
or energy left for thought now, nor for lofty notions about warning
Charles of Autichar’s plan or Clodion’s treason. She was reduced to
the mere desire for survival, to the necessity of taking one more
step away from her pursuers, and then one more step … and just one
more … over and over again. Behind her Autichar’s men called to
her, laughing, mocking, making obscene promises. She scarcely heard
them.

Gradually, another noise came to her ears,
and it came from the wrong direction. Danise did not pause in her
flight, but she did change course, instinctively heading toward the
new sound. Fear drove her onward, adding speed. She ran until she
saw movement ahead.

Someone was there, coming toward her through
the trees. Fragments of sight and sound drifted across her
consciousness. Horses. Men on foot. The blast of a hunting horn.
Shouts. Loud voices, calling words she was too weary to
comprehend.

Still not knowing toward what she ran, only
aware that it was something different from the impending horror
that followed her, Danise moved forward on aching, heavy legs,
gasping for every breath. During her desperate flight the hair had
begun to pull out of the unbound braid from which she had taken the
ribbon. Branches projecting from bushes or low trees had finished
the job of undoing the neat braid until now long silver-gold locks
blew across her face with every step she took, obscuring her
vision.