Heart's Magic (39 page)

“That woman was a demon straight from Hell.”
Captain Oliver crossed himself again. “I thank God and all His
saints for protecting Mistress Donada.”

“Now that she is waking, we are the ones who
must protect her,” Hugh said. “I want Donada carried to her room
and put to bed. We will need braziers to warm the room, heated
stones to lay at her feet, and a constant supply of boiling water,
so I can continue to feed her cups of hot tcha. It may take days
for her to recover fully, and in the meantime, we would be wise not
to press her to speak or to move from her room.”

“I will give orders at once to have her old
bedchamber prepared and her belongings returned to it.” Mirielle
took the still-icy hand that lay atop the linen sheet. “Donada, do
not try to speak to me. It isn’t necessary. I only want you to know
that Robin is safe at Bardney Abbey and we believe he is recovering
from his illness. You will see him soon, I’m sure. We are all so
glad to have you back! I’m going now to see to your room.” Mirielle
pressed a kiss on Donada’s cold cheek and turned to leave the
crypt. As she did, Brice arrived, looking as if he had dressed in
great haste.

“What has happened?” Brice cried. “Hugh, why
did you summon—dear God in heaven! My love! My dearest Donada!” He
ran down the last few steps, heading for the bier where Donada
lay.

“Stop right there.” Gavin caught Brice’s arm,
pulling him to a halt. “Hugh has warned us that it would be
dangerous to upset her, so do not talk to her. She is to be put to
bed and Hugh has every expectation that she will recover in
time.”

“Thank heaven! Oh, Donada!” Brice looked as
if he would burst into tears. “Everything she suffered was for my
sake. Master Hugh, tell me what I can do to help her.”

“Just leave her in peace until she wants to
see you,” Hugh said.

“I shall be the one to carry her to her
room,” Brice said.

“Sir Brice, you are injured and still weak
after your confrontation with Mauger,” Captain Oliver pointed out
with a glance at Brice’s heavily bandaged right hand. “I discovered
Mistress Donada alive; therefore, I should be the one to carry
her.”

“So you shall,” Hugh said, “and you may do it
now. Take her gently, please, and give her into Mirielle’s care
until I follow in a moment. I believe Lord Gavin has something to
say to me.”

They rewrapped Donada in the sheet and
Captain Oliver took her into his arms to carry her up the stairs.
He was preceded by Mirielle. Gavin heard her call out to a serving
woman when she reached the upper level, giving orders for all the
supplies Hugh had requested. Brice brought up the end of this
procession, alternately shaking his head in disbelief and reciting
prayers of thanksgiving for Donada’s return to life.

“It’s too bad he didn’t say his prayers more
often while Alda was alive,” Gavin said, looking after him until
Brice disappeared around the curve of the steps. Face pale, he
swung back to Hugh to ask the questions that threatened to destroy
his hard-earned peace. “What of my father? What of Donada’s
husband? Donada always insisted that she suffered from the sickness
that killed both men. I cannot bear to think that Alda fed to them
the same poison she used on Donada. To think of anyone, buried and
later waking to that indescribable horror—oh, God!”

“Alda wanted revenge on Donada, because she
believed Donada had stolen the man whose strength she was slowly
sapping,” Hugh said in a measured, reasonable tone. “But in the
case of your father and Sir Paul, Alda simply wanted them dead, so
she would have a free hand here at Wroxley. There was no reason for
her to indulge in additional cruelty.”

“She might, if she hated them enough. Alda
took great pleasure in being cruel.” Gavin walked to Lord Udo’s
tomb and laid a hand on it. “We will never know the truth of this,
will we?”

“What we do know is that Lord Udo and Sir
Paul were buried properly, in their own faith, with a priest in
attendance and many prayers for their souls. If they did suffer
beyond our comprehension, surely that horror must be counted in
their favor wherever their spirits now reside. I am as certain of
that,” Hugh went on, “as I am that Alda and Mauger are dealing at
this moment with an implacable heavenly justice. Deeds as wicked as
theirs, which upset and interfere with the balanced course of
Nature, are always severely punished in the end.”

“If there is such justice, then Alda and
Mauger are burning in Hell.” Gavin’s face was grim.

“So the priests of your faith would say. For
myself, I believe those two villains will pay for what they have
done, over and over again, until the very end of time.”

“Father.” Gavin’s hand moved gently on the
polished marble beneath which Udo’s remains lay.

“Whatever else is true,” Hugh said, “he and
Sir Paul are at peace now. Do not drive yourself mad with terrible
conjecture. You have your life to live well, duties and
responsibilities to fulfill as baron of Wroxley, a son to raise.
Here you have friends, loyalty that you have earned, love honest
and deep.”

“I know you are right.” Gavin took his hand
from his father’s tomb to lay it on Hugh’s shoulder. “I have
fulfilled my promise to him. His murderers have been brought before
the only Judge strong enough to condemn them. Now, as you say, it’s
time for me to think of the inheritance he left to me—and of the
honest love that found me when I least expected it.”

To the medieval mind, justice was the
highest

earthly good.

Sir Arthur Bryant

The Age of Chivalry

With Hugh as her physician, Donada’s progress
toward restored health was assured. While she was convalescing,
Gavin worked to put his barony to rights after the long
enchantment. Warm, bright weather helped, as did the good will of
those who lived at Wroxley Castle and the villeins who labored in
the surrounding fields. At Gavin’s order Brice continued as
seneschal, working side by side with Gavin and by his own
declaration doing his best to atone for his past errors.

Believing it was time for Warrick to begin
learning what his future duties would be, Gavin made an effort to
keep his son closely involved with what he was doing. Thus, Warrick
was with him when Gavin visited the blacksmith’s workshop.

“This is a joyful time,” Ewain greeted them.
“The whole castle has heard Mistress Donada’s wonderful story. My
wife wept for an hour when she learned of it.”

“Ewain, we have much to thank you for,” Gavin
said. “It was you who finally brought Mauger down.”

“Master Ewain,” Warrick put in, “how did you
know your hammer would destroy that evil mage?”

“A smith’s hammer daily beats upon metal that
comes from this good earth on which we stand, and works the metal
into useful tools,” Ewain answered. “Furthermore, my forge stands
on the exact spot where the lines of energy within the earth
intersect. It stands to reason that some of that energy must enter
my hammer as I use it.”

“I have often thought that a smith’s hammer
is a magical instrument,” Gavin said.

“Aye, my lord, so it is.” Ewain nodded.
“What’s more, I threw the hammer at Mauger. It left my hand. When
it hit Mauger, there was no physical connection to me. That is why
he could not hurt me in the same way he hurt you and Sir Brice,
whose swords were clasped in your hands when they connected with
Mauger’s body. You know what Mauger did through those connections,
how he destroyed your blades and how he laid you low and burned Sir
Brice’s hand.”

“Ewain, have you another hammer?” Gavin
asked.

“I have several, though the one I lost to
Mauger was my favorite. Still, I cannot regret the loss, since it
was in a good cause.” Ewain’s bright eyes sparkled. “Have you a
task for one of those other hammers, and perhaps for me, my
lord?”

“I want you to make a new suit of chain
mail,” Gavin said. “My son here will need armor soon and I would
have you forge those links, Ewain. You will work into the metal a
portion of your own honest strength, so Warrick will be well
protected when he wears that mail.”

“I can think of no task I would rather
undertake.” Ewain’s broad face flushed with pleasure. “As you know,
my lord, it takes many months to make a full suit of chainmail. But
your son is still young and he’s still growing. I will make the
suit large enough to fit him when the day of his knighting
arrives.”

“Thank you.” Gavin’s hand rested for a moment
on Ewain’s brawny shoulder. “My friend, you and your family will
never want for anything so long as I or my son are alive.”

“We will always remember what you did for us,
Ewain,” Warrick added to his father’s words.

Gavin could see that, though he controlled
his feelings well, Warrick was disturbed by the conversation. His
observation was confirmed once they were outside the smith’s
workshop and headed across the outer bailey toward the inner
gatehouse. Warrick fairly burst into impassioned speech.

“Father, I have told you again and again that
I do not want to be a knight. How can you expect it of me after
what my mother did? Let Ewain make that suit of mail. It’s a
fitting task for him, a fair reward for his bravery that will not
insult his pride with open charity. I know you will pay him well
for the work he will do. But when he is finished, let someone else
wear that chainmail.”

“I see no connection between your mother’s
wicked deeds and your future career,” Gavin said.

“Do you not?” Warrick stopped walking,
forcing Gavin to halt, too, and to turn to him. Warrick’s youthful
face was distorted by a deep frown and his mouth was pulled into a
grimace. Gavin had the feeling the boy was trying not to cry.

“There is no reason for you to bear your
mother’s crimes on your shoulders,” Gavin said. “I do not blame you
for them, nor does anyone else at Wroxley.”

“Because I am her son, her magic is inborn in
me,” Warrick said in a curiously mature, artificially steady voice.
“I have known this since I was a little boy. I also know that as I
reach manhood the magic will become stronger. If I do not learn how
to control it before then, the magic will control me.”

“Could that be what happened to Alda?” Gavin
asked.

“I think so,” Warrick told him. “I think
Mauger may have promised to teach her what she needed to know in
order to hold her power in check and then, under the guise of
instruction, he corrupted her.”

“She must have been willing to be corrupted
or Mauger could not have succeeded,” Gavin said. “Like so much else
to do with those two, we will never know the truth of it.”

“Whatever the truth of my mother’s life,”
Warrick said, “she was evil. I want to eliminate that wicked taint
in my blood so I can use my magical abilities for good, as Mirielle
and Master Hugh do. I cannot become a knight and dedicate my life
to battle and bloodshed. That would be the worst thing for me.
Father, I do not want to inherit Wroxley. I would be a danger to
the castle and, because of those lines Ewain spoke of, Wroxley
would be a danger—and a constant temptation—to me as it was to my
mother. It’s in me to destroy all that you and Master Hugh and Lady
Mirielle have achieved here.” Warrick’s voice broke and he
stopped.

“You fought on our side,” Gavin reminded
him.

“This time, I did,” Warrick said. “A future
battle might have a different result. Never do I want to fight
against you, but the possibility does exist.

“There’s more, Father, and I may as well tell
you now. Emma has the inborn magic, too. Together, uncontrolled,
she and I could wreck terrible destruction.”

“Emma.” Gavin took a deep breath, thinking of
the child who was not his.

“That is why I must leave Wroxley at once,”
Warrick interrupted Gavin’s unhappy thoughts.

“But we’ve only just met. I want to know you
as intimately as my father knew me. My son should not be a stranger
to me.” Gavin laid an arm across Warrick’s stiff shoulders. “Will
you take a bit of fatherly advice?”

“I will consider it, sir.” Warrick’s demeanor
was so grave that Gavin could not help smiling, though his heart
was aching in sympathy with the boy’s pain.

“Stay here with us for a while. I can think
of no better teacher for your purposes than Hugh, and I’m sure
Mirielle will be happy to help you in any way she can. If, at the
end of a year you still want to leave, then I won’t prevent
you.”

“A whole year?” In Warrick’s voice was all
the impatience of youth.

“I know it seems like a long time,” Gavin
said. “But, remember, Hugh is here. You will be learning from him
every day.”

“That’s true.” Warrick was silent for a
moment. Then, “I will stay. I would like to know you, too, Father.
Master Hugh says you are a remarkable man.”

“I must remember to thank Hugh for that,”
Gavin murmured.

On the fourth day after her remarkable
awakening, Donada asked Mirielle to bring Brice to her room. He
appeared wearing his best tunic, with his cheeks a little flushed
from excitement. His right hand was still bandaged, as it would be
for some time to come.

“Mirielle,” Donada said, “I want you to stay
and hear my words, too.”

“As you wish.” Mirielle sat on the edge of
Donada’s bed. “Do not tire yourself, my dear. Hugh warns that it
will take a while yet for you to regain your strength.”

“I will do as Master Hugh orders,” Donada
said, “for I believe he saved my life.”

“Donada,” Brice broke in, “I see some color
in your cheeks and your voice is as strong as ever. You will be
well soon, my dearest.”

“Sir Brice,” Donada said, looking into his
eyes, “I am sorry.”

“For what?” he cried. “My dear, sweet lady,
you’ve done nothing to injure me.”