King's Dragon

Page 83

Finally, Hugh spoke. His voice was stiff with controlled fury. Ai, Lady, she knew him so well, now, that she could see his expression in her mind’s eye. “You will return her to me when she can walk. We are leaving for Firsebarg in ten days.”
“I will return her to you when she has recovered.”
He was furious. She heard it in his voice. “How dare you presume to dictate to me?”
“She may yet die, Frater. Though she is not my kinswoman, I have a certain fondness for her. And she is a woman, and like myself and all women, under the special care of the Lady. For is it not written in the Holy Verses: ‘My Hearth, where burns the fire of wisdom, I grant to women to tend’? You may threaten me if you like. I do not doubt you could easily ruin me, for we all know your mother is a great noblewoman, but I will see Liath well before I let her travel such a difficult road.”
“Very well,” he said curtly. Then he laughed. “By Our Lord, but you’ve courage, Mistress. But I will see her before I go today.”
Liath shut her eyes and hoped against hope that Mistress Birta would send him away.
“That is your right,” said Birta finally, reluctantly. The door opened.
“Alone,” said Hugh.
Liath kept her eyes shut.
“I will wait outside,” said Birta. “Right out here.”
Hugh shut the door behind him and latched it. She heard the sounds he made, the slip of his boots on the plank flooring, his intake of breath, the creak of a loose plank under his weight, the door closing, tugged shut, the snick of the latch, sealing them in together. She did not open her eyes. He said nothing. She was so alive to him that she knew exactly how close he stood to her, how a bare turn would brush his robes against her blanket, how near his hands hovered by her face.
But she knew very well he would not go away just because she kept her eyes shut. Da always said you must face what you feared or otherwise become its victim. Of course, Da had always said it with a derisive smile, since he had been running ever since her mother died.
She tightened her grip on the blanket, took in a deep breath, and looked up at Hugh. He studied her with a curious, intent expression. She stared back at him, suddenly so overwhelmingly tired that fear could take no grip on her.
“Why didn’t you just kill me?” she whispered.
Hugh chuckled, smiling. “You are far too precious a treasure to cast away so carelessly.” Then his expression changed, so fast, like a black storm rushing in from the sea. “But you must not cross me, Liath. Not ever, not like that, again.”
She looked away from him to the coarse wooden slats of the wall. A few stray pieces of straw poked through from the loft beyond.
He settled down comfortably beside her. “You will need some kind of servant while we travel, and I am sure you would feel more comfortable settling in, in Firsebarg, if you had someone you knew with you. There was some talk of the Mistress’ daughter marrying one of the freeholders, and also some talk that she was unwilling to. I think it might be well if the girl came with us. Then you would have company, and someone to do the work and perhaps, even, if she proves herself clever, to become chatelaine of our household. That would be a fair opportunity for someone of her birth. If you would like that, then I will speak with Mistress Birta now.”
Our household.
No matter what she did, not matter how strong her will to resist him, no matter how angry he became with her, how cold she remained to him, no matter how well she had locked away her heart or how well she had hidden Da’s book and knowledge, Hugh’s sheer stubborn persistence would eventually wear her away to nothing. He was utterly determined to possess her. And if she ran away, where would she run to? To death, most likely, or to a life far far worse in degradation and hunger and filth. If she even could run away. No matter how great a head start she gained, Hugh would catch up to her. He always knew where she was and what she was doing. As long as he owned her, as patient as he was, she was helpless against him.
“Count Harl has granted Ivar permission to take Hanna south with his party, to Quedlinhame,” Liath said. Her voice was a little hoarse; she didn’t know why. She hardly knew she was speaking at all.
“Hanna? Ah, is that the girl’s name? Well, I will be abbot, Liath, and in a few more years I will be elevated to the rank of presbyter and gain the ear of the skopos herself. I can offer her better prospects than a common monk can. If you want her, I see no difficulty arranging the matter with her parents. Do you want her?”
Why not give in to the inevitable? If she had only managed Da’s affairs better. If she had only insisted he live more frugally. If she had not begged him last spring to let them stay just one more summer in Heart’s Rest.