Back From Chaos (17 page)

“
Would you like more tea before we begin?” She nodded. He refilled her cup and poured himself one as well, hoping the gesture would help calm her fear. The water needed to cool anyway. Then, the tea drunk in silence, he regarded her a moment longer and said simply, “It is time.”

Klast’s movements were deft and gentle. He had tended men’s wounds many times, and had learned how to be quick without causing undue pain. At first Brensa submitted rigidly, but when he touched her thighs, she whimpered. He felt her go limp, and watched her retreat into that inner world that admits no pain or shame. She would feel nothing now until she chose to return. He fervently hoped she would make that choice.

Klast was relieved to see only minor tearing. She was badly bruised and swollen, but the bleeding had slowed to spotting. She would heal. He cleaned the area and applied the honey balm, then quickly covered her again with the blanket. He had also noticed a purple bruise deepening just above her waist and probed carefully to see if any ribs were broken. Thankfully they appeared intact, but the ribs would cause considerable pain when she moved. He carefully raised her up again, and lifted her arms to wrap the bandages around her chest. She cooperated as if in a trance, showing no response. He worked quickly, lowered her gently back onto the blankets, covered her again with his own and retreated to let her come back to herself.

Klast left Brensa alone again and went out to check his snares. When he came back with three hares, he found her awake. She sat on the blankets, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, rocking rhythmically back and forth, keening. How Klast knew what to do he could never have explained. Instinct took over. He sat beside her, scooped her onto his lap, and cradled her head in his huge hand, against his chest.

She, too, responded from old memory, and curled up against him, still keening softly. He rocked her, crooning the refrain of a melody long forgotten, a lullaby. Before long he felt a wetness coming through Brensa’s skirts. His first thought was that she had begun bleeding again. Then he realized there was no colour, so it could not be blood. She had lost control of her bladder. For Klast this was good news. It meant the swelling had gone down, making it possible to pass the tea he had served her. But he understood that to Brensa, it meant further humiliation.

“
It is all right. Your skirts can be washed again,” he murmured softly, rocking her all the while. “It is my fault. I should have left you something to use. “

Brensa’s sobbing continued for a time, then slowly subsided into intermittent sniffles and hiccups. She gave no indication that she had heard or understood him. Klast noticed that his blanket, the one she had used to wrap herself in, lay aside on the ground. She had managed to shrug it off before she lost control.

He relaxed his hold and reached for it, “Here, if you can, take off your skirts again, and wrap up in the blanket, I will take the wet things down to wash them.” Then he turned away once more, and waited for her to comply. She did so, still sniffling and taking broken, shuddering breaths. When she became still once more, he took the wet things and left, assuring her again that it was not her fault. She did not meet his eyes but kept hers resolutely shut to hide her shame.

When he returned he found her sitting close to the fire wrapped in his blanket. She watched him, wary still but much calmer, the beginnings of trust in her posture.

~ 33 ~

HOME

Gaelen’s party got no more sleep that night. By the time they had buried the dead and discussed the events of the night, dawn heralded the new day. They made a hasty breakfast, packed up and moved on. By evening, Bargia castle would welcome them with hot food, soft beds and old friends.

The events of the night would make their homecoming bittersweet, not the victory celebration they had hoped for. Two families would receive the grim news of their loved one’s death.

Gaelen was anxious to meet with Sinnath and Janest to see if they knew anything of who attacked them and why. He had been away too long and needed information on events in Bargia since his departure. His people would be eager to see their new lord, and they would look for assurances that their lives would go on much as before. A period of mourning needed to be set for the elder Lord Bargest and Gaelen’s brother, Lionn. And Gaelen wanted to firmly establish Marja as his wife and lady in the eyes of the people, a duty he believed essential to consolidating peace and order.

He could not understand that Marja did not accept his judgment regarding Klast. She simply would not believe Klast could be trusted, and it had become a sore point between them. All Gaelen could do was to assure her. “Klast is the man most skilled and most likely to bring Brensa back alive. Is that not what you wish? He has been loyal to my father and to Bargia for many years. There is no man I trust more.” But he could not hide his frustration.

Marja remained unconvinced. “He has dead eyes and no feeling. How can such a man be trusted? He will treat Brensa coldly when she most needs kindness.”

Gaelen merely sighed and let it go. Only time would change her mind.

They rode mostly in silence, every man alert for further treachery. Marja retreated inside herself and sat stiff in the saddle, answering in single words only when spoken to directly. Gaelen understood her anguished thoughts were on Brensa. The difference of opinion over Klast hung between them like a black cloud. To make matters worse, Gaelen had no time for her and could not give the attention to her worry and grief over Brensa that he wished to. He could not help her. He had other matters that demanded his attention.

They crossed into Bargia by late morning. A patrolling scout had spotted them and had warned his captain of their imminent arrival. By midday, a full cadre of twenty armed men in official blue and yellow tunics came to escort Gaelen into the city. Danger of attack was all but past.

Gaelen sent a soldier ahead to arrange an immediate meeting with Janest and Sinnath, as well as Grenth, the commanding officer and council member who had remained in Bargia. It could not wait until after dinner.

~ 34 ~

BARGIA

Gaelen’s spirits lifted at the sight of his home. With the safety of the castle in view, and the added armed escort, he could finally relax enough to enjoy the remainder of the ride.

Bargia lay at the bottom of a wide valley, its northern border the shallow river the party had just forded. Earlier in spring the water would have been high enough that the horses would have needed to swim. By now, they were able to walk across. The party could stay astride, with their feet lifted high, as the water reached the horses’ underbellies.

The walled city lay nestled at the bottom of the dale, the castle at its centre, with small crofts and villages dotted randomly around it. The land here was more fertile than the craggier Catania to the north, and it showed in the level of prosperity of its inhabitants. This, coupled with the lack of obvious characteristics that could be used for defence, made it a prime target for invasion. But Bargia had managed to remain independent for several generations by establishing strong alliances with its neighbours and trading for grains and other local products in shorter supply outside its boundaries. It was just such an alliance that Lord Cataniast had refused.

Gaelen raised his hand in greeting to the crofters along the way. They stopped their work in the fields and bowed as his party passed. He saw them wait until they rode past, arms leaning on scythes and hoes, bags of seed for the more tender crops, such a beans, set down at their feet. The peaceful, pastoral scene calmed Gaelen’s frayed nerves.

The low mountain behind them stood at the end of a small range of alps. From its peak flowed the ravine that fed the river. The rolling hills at the bottom gradually levelled around the eastern and northern sides of the dale, where Bargia City stood.

As Gaelen approached the city, the first barrier he had to cross was a low berm, intersected by the four roads leading to the outer gates. The berm had been formed at the time the city had first been built, from the earth dug to create the moat around the castle and from the stones and dirt removed to make the many cellars and canals. Originally, it had been intended as a first line of defence against invasion, but it had not served that purpose for as long as anyone could remember. Now, it offered grazing for the many sheep and cattle that provided meat and dairy products to the city. Only when scouts or spies announced that the city was in danger of attack were any soldiers sent to patrol the perimeter around the berm.

Gaelen remarked to Marja, “It is good to be home and to see that the planting has not suffered from our absence.”

As with most cities, Bargia could be entered through four main gates, one facing roughly each of the four directions. Gaelen’s party rode in at the main gate, which stood on the east side.

“
There is so much more space here.” Marja brightened slightly as she took in her new home. It was the first time she had spoken since their argument about Klast, other than to answer direct questions. “The buildings are farther apart. It feels less crowded.”

Gaelen smiled proudly and nodded.

Bargia castle itself was unusual in that it had an extra fortification wall, with a wide moat at its feet, outside its exterior walls. To enter one had to pass through one of only two gates. The early rulers had added this extra fortification as a fall back for the people in case of attack, due to the lack of natural defences. It had two deep wells within its walls, one inside the castle itself.

On the berm and between it and the outer wall, a motley mix of businesses had sprouted and flourished. As they crossed the berm Gaelen noted the respect its inhabitants showed him. They, too, stopped working and touched hands to chests as he passed. He made a point of meeting as many eyes as he could and nodded or waved in acknowledgement. He could see curiosity on the faces of those close enough to spy Marja riding beside him. Well, they would have their questions answered soon enough. He hoped they would take her presence as good news.

~ 35 ~

ARRIVAL

As soon as they entered the gates of Bargia City and approached the castle, Gaelen hurried ahead to his meeting. A guard escorted Marja to the lord’s chambers. As their new lady, the choice of chambers was automatic. Two ladies, who had previously attended Gaelen’s mother, already waited for her with a hot bath scented with rosemary, soap for her hair and scented oil for her skin. Marja learned they had been called into service when news reached the castle that she had no ladies to attend to her. Several gowns and undergarments in a variety of colours and sizes lay arranged on the bed.

Marja welcomed the bath but wished she had been left to take it alone. With Brensa gone, the stresses from the events of the past eightdays, and the privations of travel, she craved solitude. What she really wanted was her own soft bed back home, with Brensa and Nellis by her side to share songs, needlework and romantic dreams. Those days were gone forever, and Marja resented that.

She understood how critical it was that she make a good first impression in Bargia, but she could muster only a brusque politeness. She finished with the bath, was helped into one of the makeshift gowns, and had her hair simply dressed. As soon as they were done, she excused her attendants, bidding them to summon her when it was time to go to dinner. She needed rest.

Her attitude must have been formidable, because the two women left hastily, backing out the door with much curtsying and assurances that they would remain close at hand, in case she needed anything. Apparently she had not made the desired impression. Well, so be it. They would not be friendly and cheerful either, if they had endured what she had been through. That thought made her even grumpier. She wondered what they would say if she did not attend dinner. Gaelen would certainly expect her to be there. He wanted his people to see her and to accept her. And this gown was ugly and didn’t fit properly. Why had she ever agreed to this? Maybe she could say she did not feel well … not so far from the truth. Marja paced the room as she fretted, trying to decide if she could manage the formal dinner.

Suddenly, she laughed out loud. She was acting like a spoiled child! She gave herself a shake and took a long draught of the good wine that sat on the round table in the corner. Then she made herself lie down and dozed off quickly.

~ 36 ~

COUNCIL

Gaelen proceeded at once to meet with his council.

The large, rectangular council chamber, located at the centre of the castle, had no windows, to insure privacy. The two longest stone walls each bore a large tapestry depicting scenes of battle. One of these showed Gaelen’s great-grandfather winning an important victory against Gharn. The rest of the room wore no decoration. In the centre stood a long carved table lined with twenty heavy wooden chairs. The table was covered with a coarse linen cloth woven in the yellow and blue of Bargia. The chairs had cushions of the same cloth. Everything here was ancient, used by generations of lords and their advisors.

The only visible way in or out was one door at the end. This could be locked from the inside with a heavy, sliding, wooden bolt and would take a battering ram to break down. A small door hidden behind a tapestry afforded a means of escape in the event of attack. This door was known only to the lord and his top three advisors.

Gaelen reached the council chamber before the others and stood beside the chair at the head of the table for the few moments before they arrived to gather his thoughts. He remembered his father presiding from this chair and wished that he were here to guide him. He ran his hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Standing in his father’s place made the changes of the last days finally real. It did not seem right to take his place. But he had no time to mourn. Janest had arrived.