Kingston, Katherine Walpurgis Night

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"You think you gave me no choice that night? I could have
easily said you nay, did it not suit me to answer your
request. But I was intrigued by a woman so bold and
beautiful. My curiosity as well as my manhood demanded I
say aye."
"And your manhood and your curiosity being at once
satisfied, you had no further need of me."
"Not so. You're one could inspire a lifetime of curiosity
and desire. I have met none at all like you before in my life,
and every part of me, from my head to my manhood,
clamored to explore further what happens between us. But I
should not do so. 'Tis not right I should do so."
"Nay?"
"Fianna, I told you. I thought you understood. I will be
leaving here. I would have gone as soon as Ranulf returned,
had he not come back in such condition. Even so, when he
recovers and is able to take my place by our father's side, I'll
be off. Knowing this, it didn't seem fair that I seek you out
again, despite your kind invitation. I would not have you
forming an attachment to me that would be cruelly sundered
when I left. Were it not for that, I would have come to you
every night since."
"My invitation was many things, but kindness played no
part in it," she admitted. "This trip is important to you."
"I've waited half my life, it seems."
"Yet your brother has been gone on his adventure."
"Aye. And I tell myself I begrudge it not. Yet in some
measure, I do. But now my time is near, should he live."
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"And if he does not?"
He was silent so long she wondered if he'd answer or if
he'd fallen asleep. His breath had not the regular rhythm of
sleep, however, and after a while he said, "I would remain
here. My father is not well. Age and exhaustion are on him.
He needs someone vigorous and strong to maintain his
order."
Fianna sighed. "I'll do all in my power to save Ranulf.
More than that I cannot promise you."
"Nor do I ask it, despite my rash words earlier. I spoke
out of my fear and frustration."
"I understand. It is done."
They were both quiet for some time. She thought he'd
fallen asleep until he asked, "What was happening at your
home this afternoon? Why did all those people come to you?
Were they concerned that you were being taken against your
will by us? Or did they seek your testimony against those
young men who would have forced you?"
"None of those," she said. "They came to tell me I was
disrupting the peace of the town by inciting lust in the
young men. It was decreed I must choose one to marry."
"'Tis not your fault. True men need not force a woman to
their will."
"Aye. But whether I am at fault or no bears little on the
case. In the interests of peace, I must be wed. So I must
choose one by the night of your Walpurgis feast."
"And if you do not?"
"Then I must leave the town, on pain of death."
He moved against her, apparently distressed by her
answer. "That is harsh of them. Do they value you so little?"
"Not so high as their peace, it appears."
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"You could leave and find others who value your
services more."
"Aye. But I've been happy there, and they have need of
me. I have no wish to leave."
"You have no longing to see more of this world? 'Tis a
very large place, and I understand there are wonders to be
found. I am eager to be off and begin discovering them
myself."
"Nay. I want the comfort of a room of my own, my bed,
my garden, and my work."
He touched her, ran a gentle hand through her hair. She
got the feeling he wanted to offer comfort but knew not how.
Finally he said, "I hope you can find your way to a solution
that brings you peace."
That was the last she remembered of that night.
* * * * *
Fianna roused when the first light of dawn seeped
through cracks around windows and doorways. She shifted
and was momentarily surprised to feel another body
moving against her back. When she rolled over, Henrik was
awake and watching her.
She smiled and reached out to touch him. She ran her
fingers through the tangled disarray of his blond hair,
watching the lazy grin play across his face. That smile, worn
for her, touched a place deep in her breast with a heat of
longing and desire. But within moments his face darkened,
and he looked toward the curtained-off partition.
Reminded of her purpose for being there, Fianna
quickly scrambled up off the mat and went to the other
room. Henrik was right behind her.
The woman, Riga, was wiping the cloth across Ranulf's
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forehead. She spoke to Henrik in Norse for several moments,
and he commented or questioned in the same tongue.
Fianna was reassured when Henrik didn't seem too upset or
unhappy in response. Several times, though, as he looked
toward his brother, worry shadowed his expression. Once he
even closed his eyes briefly and expelled his breath on a
long sigh. She found herself wishing she could pronounce
some magic words to wipe that concern from his face and
restore the smile from earlier.
Fianna touched Ranulf's forehead and throat. He felt
warmer than he had the previous night and was still
muttering, though she couldn't decipher the words. The
pulse in his throat beat hard and fast.
"He stayed the same for most of the night," Henrik
reported to her after he'd sent the other woman off to bed.
"About an hour ago, he began to get worse. He started
talking, but making no sense with it, and Riga thinks he has
been getting warmer." His breath caught in his throat. "This
is not good, is it?"
"It is not good, but not surprising either," she told him. "I
didn't think I could get all the ill humors out of the wound. I
pray we removed enough that his body can fight what
remains."
"What should we do?"
"Sponge him off and try to keep his fever down. I have
an infusion I'll make that will help with that. If he shows
signs of chills, we must have more blankets to wrap him."
Henrik nodded. "I'll get more blankets."
While he was gone, Fianna dipped a cloth into the water
and swabbed it over Ranulf's face and down his chest and
arms. Like his brother, he was an impressively built man. In
fact, if his face weren't so gray and drawn, his hair so shaggy
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and unkempt, he would look a great deal like Henrik.
Odd that she didn't have the same kind of reaction to
him she had to Henrik. There was no tingle of excitement
when she touched Ranulf, no frisson of longing for closer
contact when she looked at him. He roused her pity and her
concern as a patient but nothing more. In fact&
She froze, horrified by the thought that crossed her
mind. It wasn't something she could wish for. It wasn't what
she would want. But she couldn't deny it was there. If this
man were to die, Henrik wouldn't go away. He wouldn't [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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