Kingdom Come (23 page)

Rory smiled when she saw the little figure, her smile fading when she saw tears all over his face.  She looked at Kieran.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why is he crying?”

Kieran lifted an eyebrow at her. “Because this is his home and he does not want to leave his brother. But you wanted him to come with us so here he is. Satisfied?”

He said it so coldly. Rory’s heart sank as she gazed up at him; he obviously didn’t see what she was trying to do. She was trying to help a child. Kieran thought she was just being demanding and unreasonable.  He could have done less damage had he struck her, so harsh was his expression. He just didn’t understand her motives and she probably couldn’t make him. There was so much about each other that they still didn’t understand.  Her smile vanished and the tears began to come.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry if he’s unhappy. I thought I was helping him by taking him out of a place where he was beaten and starved. But I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry I put you through all the trouble, Kieran, I really am. Take him back to his brother and let’s get out of here.”

She turned on her heel and marched off towards the door. Kieran caught up to her within a few steps and grabbed her but she resisted violently.

“Let me go,” she didn’t want to raise her voice in the church, struggling to yank herself from his grip. “Just… let me go and take him back where he belongs. I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you. I’m sorry all I do is make unreasonable demands. I’m sorry I…!”

Kieran had heard enough; he threw his arms around her and pulled her face against his chest, effectively muffling her. She continued to fight him and he continued to hold tight.

“Calm yourself, Lib,” he said in that sweet, low voice that was so effective in soothing her nerves. “You are not an embarrassment and you are not unreasonable.But I do not understand you at times and I apologize if my confusion shows.”

She would not be soothed and the tears were going full force.  She began to pound on his chest, trying to separate herself from him.

“Let me go,” she demanded, weeping. “I don’t want you to hold me right now. I want you to let me go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he did.  She pulled away from him, her hair mussed and hands on her face.  She walked a few feet away, pressed herself against another stone pillar, and wept.  Kieran stood there and watched her, his arms aching to hold her and his heart saddened by her tears.

“I hate it here,” she sobbed. “I hate this place. I hate everything about it except you. I don’t get it; I thought I did, but I really don’t. I have a doctorate in Archaeology but I still don’t get anything about this time and you just don’t understand me.”

He continued to stand there patiently, watching her vent. He felt sorry for her; he really did. He knew very well what it was to be misplaced in time, the disorientation and frustration.  She was doing her best but, still, it was a struggle.  He wished he could do more to help her adjust but it was something only time could heal.

As he watched her weep, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The little orphan boy was approaching timidly, moving to the other side of the pillar that Rory was weeping against and pressing himself against it as if hiding from her. His big blue eyes were wide as he began to creep around the side of the pillar until he came within a foot or so of Rory. As Kieran watched curiously, the little boy reached up and tugged on her sleeve.

“
La dame
?” the little boy whispered. “
Pourquoi pleurez-vous
?”

Rory looked down at the child, tears streaming down her face. But the sobbing stopped when she realized the kid was talking to her.

“What did he say?” she asked Kieran, sniffling.

“He wants to know why you weep,” he replied softly.

She looked at the boy, amazed that so young a child could show such an adult emotion as concern.  She knelt down in front of him, gazing up at his very handsome little face, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She smiled.

“Tell him that I cry because I am concerned for him,” she said. “I don’t like it when others hurt him.”

Kieran relayed the message in his beautiful fluent French.The little boy looked at Kieran as if uncomprehending the words. He didn’t know what to say. Kieran broke from his stance a few feet away and went to Rory and the child, taking a knee beside them.  He put his big hand on Rory’s back comfortingly.

“Your words have no meaning to him,” he said softly. “I suspect that he has never had anyone show concern for him. He does not know what to make of it.”

Rory gazed down at the little face and took the child’s hands in hers; they were dirty little appendages but warm and soft.

“Please tell him that I only wanted to help him by taking him away from people that would hurt him,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make him unhappy or take him away from his brother. I just didn’t want him to be beaten anymore.”

Kieran relayed the words and the child stared at him.  It was apparent that he had no clue what he meant.  Kieran kissed Rory on the temple and stood up, towering over Rory and the child. He assumed there was nothing more to say and found himself increasingly eager to be on their way. But he wouldn’t let Rory know that; she was trying to do something compassionate and kind. In spite of what she said, he did understand that.

As he stood there and tightened up his leather gloves, the child looked up at him again.

“
Mon frère peut-il venir aussi
?” he asked in his sweet little voice.

Kieran looked at the child with a blank expression as Rory stood up and looked at him curiously.

“What did he say?” she asked.

It would have been easy to lie to her. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “He wants to know if his brother can come with us,” he said.

Rory looked at the little boy before returning her focus to Kieran. When he looked at her, he could see the joy return to her eyes and, like an idiot, he knew his life was about to change forever.  There was no way he could deny her.

“Can his brother come?” she asked Kieran.

Kieran grunted, pursing his lips with resignation.  Then he nodded. “If that is your wish,” he grumbled. “As if I have any say in the matter, but thank you for pretending to give me some semblance of control.”

She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered sincerely, kissing his cheeks. “You’re such a sweet man. Thank you for your compassion and generosity.”

He held her tightly, allowing her to demonstrate her thanks with her soft lips on his face. “Aye, I am compassionate and generous,” he muttered. “But you are making me daft.”

She gazed up at him, glowing and smiling. “Admit it. Your life would be boring without me.”

“Boring, unhappy and lonely. But at least I would retain my sanity.”

She giggled and kissed him. He returned her kisses, tasting her sweetness, happy that things were well between them again. They usually were when she got her way in all things, he thought. But he didn’t care in the least.

Setting her to her feet, he disappeared with the little boy for a time and returned with the child plus an older boy, about seven years of age. He had also been one of the altar boys, dirty and bruised. This child was blond but with the same big blue eyes, extremely skinny and dressed in rags. He also had a small sack with him.  Kieran indicated the two young lads.

“This is Little Mouse and his older brother, John,” Kieran introduced the boys to Rory. “According to the priest, they have been with St.Victor’s since they were infants. They do not know who their parents are but suspect the mother works in one of the brothel’s in town. The woman who brought the boys claimed she was not their mother but said the boys’ fathers are Christian knights who fight with Richard.”

Rory held Kieran’s elbow as she gazed down at the skinny, dirty boys. “They’re adorable,” she said softly. “But I don’t like their names.  We’re going to call them Bud and David.”

Kieran looked at her, sharply, before breaking down into snorts. “Of course,” he slapped his thigh ironically. “After Dr. Dietrich and Dr. Peck. You would name them after your colleagues?”

“They were our friends.”

His smile faded and he patted her hand affectionately, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, not wanting her to sink into depression reflecting upon those she left behind. Then he looked back at the boys and spoke to them in French.  “
Entendez-vous cela ? Votre nom est Bud et votre plus vieux nom du frère est David. Vous répondrez à ces noms à partir de
.”

Rory could guess what he said by the way the boys looked at him and each other. She shook her head. “
Deseo que hablara francés
,” she said to Kieran.

He looked at her strangely. “What language is that?”

“Spanish. Well, Mexican Spanish. It’s native to the Mexicans where I’m from.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her, smiling with some approval. “What did you say?”

“That I wish I spoke French.”

He lifted his eyebrows at her. “I believe I like this Mexican Spanish,” he said. “It sounds rather seductive. You will speak more to me when we are in private.”

She chuckled, refusing to give in to his sexual innuendos in front of the boys.  She shook her head at him and focused on the children.

“
Operor vos agnosco illa lacuna
?” she asked.

The boys’ eyes widened and they nodded their head. Smiling, Rory looked up at Kieran. “Well, at least I can communicate with them somewhat,” she said. “I took five years of Latin in college as it related to my major. It was necessary for translating Medieval documents. I’m not very good at speaking it but I can read it pretty well.”

He was still smiling at her from his earlier comment regarding her Spanish.  He reached out and pulled her against him. “I find your ability to converse in Spanish and Latin extremely alluring,” he murmured. “Say more words.”

She giggled, pushing against him until he let her go. “Stop it,” she commanded weakly, a smile on her lips. “Not in front of the children.”

He fought off a smirk.  Rory gazed down at the confused, somewhat tired little faces and her smile began to fade as well.  She reached up and took Kieran’s fingers within her own.

“Ask them if they really want to come,” she said quietly.

He looked at her as if she was mad. “What?” he cried softly. “After all this, now you think to ask them?”

“Please?”

He was back to being irritated and asked the boys, somewhat impatiently, if they really wanted to come. The boys nodded without hesitation. Then the little one took the older one’s hand, holding it tightly. Rory was touched by the gesture; it was just the two of them. Perhaps they supposed that anything was better than what they had, fearful or not. She couldn’t tell if they were afraid, curious or both.

“All right,” she tugged on Kieran’s massive hand. “Let’s go.”

He nodded wearily. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to rescue more boys perhaps? Or even the priest? Perhaps we have it all wrong and the boys are beating the priest and each other. Perhaps we need to save them from themselves.”