When the Heavens Fall (13 page)

The sharp pain in his back brought Brandon out of the dark pit he had fallen into. He'd had bad dreams and at times thought he heard voices, but he could not identify any of them. He tried to remember what had happened, but he caught only fitful brief scenes, mere flickers in his memory. He remembered leaving the camp and getting on the road. He remembered growing feverish and stopping and his back hurting more and more. Now it frightened him that he didn't know where he was. Try and try as he might, he could not remember where he was or how he had got here

He knew that he was in a bed. When he opened his eyes for a moment, the room seemed to move. He closed them quickly and realized that his back was not as painful as it had been and that there was something cooling on it. He opened his eyes again and found himself looking into a face

It was a woman. He tried to think if he knew her. Her hair was as black as ebony, and her eyes were large, dark, and well-shaped. She was wearing a dress made of some emerald-green material, and around her head was a crimson neckerchief that had slipped back to reveal her raven hair. He watched her move
and then heard the sound of water pouring. Suddenly he was aware of a raging thirst. Gently she lifted his head and said, “Here. Drink.” He greedily guzzled the water. It ran out of his mouth and down his neck, but he ignored it. When he had drained the mug, she set it aside and then turned back to stare at him. “So, you are awake. How do you feel?”

“Where—where is this place?” he managed to ask. His lips were still dry, and his tongue seemed to have swollen. “What am I doing here?”

“My . . . cousin and I found you on the road. This is the first inn we came to. It's called the Silver Fox. You want some more water?”

“Yes.” He drank again. She was close enough for him to smell a strong scent, like violets. She put the mug down and then leaned over him. He guessed she was in her late twenties. She had golden olive skin, and her eyebrows were beautifully arched. There was a fullness in her lips that any red-blooded man would find stirring—not that Brandon was in any condition to do anything about it. “Why did you bother to pick me up?”

“You would have died if we had left you there. Are you hungry?”

“Not very.”

“You'll have to eat. My . . . cousin will soon bring us food.”

He stared at her, and then memory came flooding back all at once. How he had made a fool of himself over Alice Poplin—a worthless woman if there ever was one—how the major had seen him beaten, how Caleb had had to see to his care. What a mess he'd made of things

What now? Where? He could not go home. He could never go home again—not until he had redeemed himself

He looked up at the woman, who was watching him intently. “What's your name?” he asked wearily

“Lupa.”

“Just Lupa? No last name?”

“Lupa is enough for now.”

He stared at her and started to respond, but at that moment the door opened and a man came in bearing food. He was strongly built, dark-skinned, and had gold earrings dangling from both ears. Brandon said in wonder, “You're gypsies.”

The man laughed. “Well, he's got his sense back at least. Yes, we are gypsies. Here. Something to eat. I'll add it to what you owe us. Let me help you up.”

Brandon struggled to sit upright. Surprised, he said, “My back is better.”

“I'm a healing woman. I put some ointment on it. We'll put it on for several days, and you'll be well.”

“Who gave you such a lashing?” the man asked

“Don't ask so many questions, Rez,” Lupa said. She handed Brandon a bowl and asked, “Can you feed yourself?”

“Of course.” He took the bowl and began to eat rapidly. He finished the soup and felt better. As Lupa took the bowl he asked, “Why did you bother with me?”

“I like good-looking men.” He stared at her, not knowing what to make of that. “I read the letter from your father. He's a great lord, is he?”

“He has a title, yes.” He stared at them. The man looked like a villain. As for the woman, she had an exotic beauty that men would fight for. Suddenly a thought came that amused him. “Well, I was running away from one trouble, and it seems that I've landed in more.”

“What makes you think we'll get you in trouble?”

“You look like trouble to me,” Brandon said

“We'll help you, then you can help us,” Lupa said quickly

Brandon's mind was working now. He shook his head and said as firmly as he could, “You won't get a reward from my family for helping me.”

Lupa touched the letter. “He sounds like a good man. He wants to help you.”

“He is a good man, but I'm not. That letter is quite old. And much has . . . transpired since he wrote it.”

Fabin laughed suddenly. “That's coming right out with it. What have you done that's so bad? How'd you get your back torn up like that?”

“It's not a very original story. I was a soldier in the army, and my commanding officer had a witless but pretty wife. She liked me, and the major caught us. He managed to arrange it so I'd get fifty lashes and be drummed out of the army.”

“Were you a good soldier?” Lupa asked curiously

“Yes. But apparently I was better with women and playing the fool.”

Lupa laughed, and her eyes seemed to glow. “Most men don't know that until it's too late.”

Brandon cocked his head. “I had some money, but I'd wager you've taken that, so I can't pay you. So . . . what is it you want?”

Lupa leaned closer. “You can go home and get some money, and then you can pay us.”

“I won't do that. Once my parents know what I have done, they will disown me.” He smiled, but there was no amusement in it. “You know, I met Princess Elizabeth once.”

“Who's she?” Lupa asked curiously

“Well, she may be queen of England one day if enough people die. She asked me if I was a good man, and I said, ‘No, I was born in sin from my mother's womb.'”

“Me too,” Fabin grinned. “We're brothers, then.”

“We'll help you, Brandon,” Lupa said. “I'll find a way to put you to good use.”

“That's probably what you do with all men.”

“You're right about that.” Fabin grinned, a pirate among comrades

“So you'd use me, would you, Lupa?” Brandon asked, eyeing her

“Yes. I would.” She stared back at him

“Well, you're an honest woman—which is rare.”

She reached out and put her hand on his chest. “Continue to be honest with me and I shall be honest with you.”

“I'm in debt to you,” Brandon said soberly. “Rest assured I'll pay my debts, Lupa.”

The weather had warmed up, strangely enough, during the two weeks that Brandon had convalesced at the Silver Fox Inn. Lupa had taken good care of him. She sat now at a table, watching a card game between Fabin and Brandon. He had insisted she teach him Spanish, and she had been amazed by how quickly he picked up the language. She asked him, “How can you learn so quickly?”

“Always found it easy to learn languages,” he replied

“Which ones do you know?”

“Latin. French. A little German. A little Greek.”

From time to time, in the midst of the game, she would give him a Spanish phrase or word for something, and he seemed to lock it into a box that he called a memory. She noticed with disgust that Fabin was down to the last of his money, gradually losing to Brandon. Finally he lost his last farthing, cursed, and threw the cards on the table. “You are lucky, Englishman!”

“Sometimes I am, but if that doesn't work, I cheat. I'm very good at cheating, Rez. Never been caught, at least at cards. Now, you're a cheater,” Brandon said. “But, Rez, you're not a good cheater. Look. You mark the ends of the cards with your thumbnail. By the time we had gone through the deck, I had every one of them memorized, so I know what you had as well as you did.” He laughed and shoved all the money back. “Never gamble with me, Rez.”

Lupa laughed. “If you can convince him that he is a sorry gambler, you'd be doing him a favor. I've never been able to.”

Brandon gingerly leaned forward in his chair. “We can't go on like this.”

“What do you mean?” Lupa asked

“You and Fabin paying all the bills. I'm nothing but a lazy loafer.”

“We'll get our return, in spades.”

Brandon looked at her in amusement. “How will you do that?”

“We'll set you up as a rich man, buy you expensive clothes. You'll use your ring, and we've got some more. When we get to Bath we'll get you into a game with rich men. Do you think you can win?”

“I always win.”

“Will you do it, then?” Lupa demanded

“I owe you, Lupa, and I have one virtue. Probably only one. I always pay my debts.”

“Good,” Fabin said. “I'll go see about getting you some expensive clothes. You'll have to make quite a splash in Bath. Be aware, they're pretty sharp there. If they find you cheating, they'll cut your throat.”

“They won't catch me.” He picked up the cards and began shuffling them as Fabin left the room. He shuffled expertly, fanning the cards and shuffling them again. He noted that Lupa was staring at him. He put the cards down and leaned back, wincing as his healing back met the back of the chair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The Englishman was a puzzle to Lupa. She knew a lot about men, but this one did not seem to be like any other. Finally she said, “Why have you not yet tried to make love to me, Brandon?”

Brandon frowned and glanced away from her with some embarrassment. “I don't know. I'm pretty sure it's not because I've become a good man. I'm not good and never was. But you saved my life, Lupa. I'm already tied to you for that. I don't . . . wish for another reason.”

Lupa stared at him. The answer was not what she had expected. He had the most unusual face. He was handsome, of
course, with a wedge-shaped face and wide mouth. A generous mouth, she thought. His eyes were a shade of blue she had never seen, very light, almost like the cornflowers that appear on the hills in the spring. His nose was straight, and his face bore no scars. His hair was a rich auburn color. But it was not his good looks that troubled her. She had founded her whole philosophy on the fact that all men were pigs, only out to use a woman, but Brandon, although he'd had many opportunities, had never once offered to put a hand on her. His answer disturbed her. “I don't think there are any good men,” she said at last

“There are some good men, Lupa. I know some. And some good women too. I'm simply not one of them, but my father is and my uncle. What you need to find is a good man.”

“No chance of that.”

“You'll find one. Now, teach me some more Spanish.”

“Well, do I look respectable?”

Lupa studied Brandon, who was dressed in his new clothes. “You look very handsome and very prosperous.”

“Just don't lose our money.” Fabin grinned. “If you do, I'll cut your throat. We've put everything we had in getting you a stake together and those rich clothes.”