Lion's Bride (9 page)

Her gaze searched the courtyard until she found Kadar.

“Kadar!”

He walked his horse up to her.

“May I ride with you?”

He glanced at Ware, who was now mounting his horse across the courtyard. “I think you should stay here. We don’t know what we’ll encounter at Jedha.”

“Don’t be foolish. We’ll encounter people who are hurt. Jasmine is following with a wagon full of bandages, salves, and food.” She held up her arms for him to lift her onto his horse. When he made no motion to help her, she added, “And Lord Ware said I could go.”

“He did?” Kadar’s expression became thoughtful. “I wonder…” He bent down and lifted her onto his horse. “You are sure?” He galloped across the courtyard and reined in when he reached Ware. “Is this wise?”

“It may not make any difference. I’m leaving a force here, but it may be too small….” He shrugged. “She maybe safer outside the gates.”

“But if it’s a trap?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to go anyway. That’s my village that’s burning.” He waved his hand and galloped over the drawbridge with the column of soldiers thundering after him.

“What did he mean?” Thea asked as Kadar followed the soldiers. “A trap?”

“I don’t think it’s a trap,” Kadar said reassuringly. “Ware has made sure his army is stronger than the Knights Templars’. That’s why they haven’t attacked him yet. They’re waiting for an opportunity.”

He had mentioned the Knights Templars’ pursuit of Ware before, but it seemed impossible they would burn a village to draw him out. After all, they were monks, servants of God. “Fires start all the time. A careless mistake with a cooking flame…” He did not seem to be listening. “How far is it?”

“Over the next hill. We’ll be there soon.”

But would it be soon enough to help the villagers? she wondered desperately, her gaze on the red glare lighting the night sky.

The village was ablaze, every house an inferno.

Thea stared in horror at the flaming chaos before them.

Bodies…everywhere.

Men, women…Dear God, children…little children.

“I have to help them. I have to—” She slipped from the saddle.

“Thea!” Kadar called.

She ignored him and ran toward a little girl lying beside a burning hut. She carefully turned the body over. Blood. Dark eyes staring at the sky. Dead.

“You can’t help here.” Ware’s voice came from beside her. “Wait outside the village with Kadar. If there’s anyone alive, I’ll have them brought to you.”

She dazedly stared up at him, still mounted on his horse. “She’s dead.”

“It was a clean sword thrust,” he said quietly. “She didn’t suffer.”

“Sword…” She glanced at the other bodies. She had noticed only the death and devastation, not the means. An arrow protruded from the back of a man across the path. A woman was crumpled against a wall, clutching a wound in her stomach. She could not believe it. “They murdered them?”

“Wait outside the village.”

She shook her head. “Someone may be alive. I have to—”

“I gave my soldiers orders for all bodies to be checked for signs of life. This is their village, their people. They won’t make mistakes.”

Ignoring him, she stood up and moved to a man lying a few feet away. He was dead also. She moved to another lying next to the well in the center of the square. Dead.

Frozen expressions of fear and horror.

Blood.

A woman swollen with child with an arrow in her back.

The smoke from the burning cottages was now so thick, she could barely see.

Kadar was on his knees beside her. “Ware says you must leave this place.”

“I will not,” she said fiercely. “Someone must be alive. I have to—” Was that a movement? She leaped to her feet and ran toward the slumped figure on the other side of the well. “Haroun?”

The child opened his eyes. “Mama…”

“Shh…it’s all right.”

He shook his head and his lids closed again.

But he was still alive. She turned to Kadar. “Take him out of here.”

She found only one other survivor of the massacre. An old man who had hidden beneath a wagon. It didn’t seem possible that there could be no one else left alive. Perhaps the soldiers had discovered others…. She had to keep searching.

Ware jerked her to her feet. “Will you stay here until you burn to death with the corpses?” He lifted her in his arms and strode down the street.

“Let me go.” She started to struggle. “I found two alive. There may be more.”

“There are no more.” His face was completely without expression. “And if there were, we couldn’t reach them. The entire village is engulfed.” He set her down on her feet. “Take care of her, Jasmine.” He was gone again.

Jasmine. She hadn’t seen the wagon arrive. She had seen nothing but death and blood and fire.

“You are weeping,” Jasmine said. “Are you hurt?”

She hadn’t realized she was weeping. She reached up a hand and touched her wet cheek. There didn’t seem to be enough tears in the world for what she had just seen. “No, I’m not hurt.”

She turned back to the village.

There was no village, only a solid sheet of flame.

“May Allah be merciful,” Jasmine’s voice was unsteady. “I was not treated with kindness here, but I would not have had this happen. I grew up in this village.”

Thea saw several of the soldiers standing with tears running down their cheeks. This was their home, the place of their birth, the people they had loved in that bonfire. She couldn’t stand to look at it any longer. She turned back to the wagon. “Did you look at Haroun?”

“He may not live. He’s had a sharp blow on the head. The old man, Malik ben Karrah, has only a few burns.”

“Did they find anyone else?”

“One man. Amal, the cobbler. He died before I could look at his wounds.”

Two alive out of an entire village. She suppressed the wave of sickness that washed over her. She couldn’t help anyone if she was ill. She climbed onto the bed of the wagon. “Then let’s get back to Dundragon so that we can care for the boy.”

“Are you all right?” Kadar was beside the wagon.

She nodded. “But we have to get Haroun back to the castle.”

“Not now. Ware has taken some men and gone on ahead to make sure the road is safe. I’m to wait a quarter hour and then escort you back.”

She nodded wearily. She couldn’t comprehend what had happened here, but she accepted that it would be foolish to place Haroun in a position of danger. “I’ll need water to wash the boy’s wound.”

It was a somber, grim Dundragon to which they returned. A pall hovered over the castle and the soldiers who guarded it.

“Take him to my chamber,” Thea told the soldiers who lifted Haroun out of the wagon. The boy had not awakened during the journey. Perhaps he would never wake again.

No, she would not think that. She slipped out of the wagon and started up the steps.

“Send word to me when he wakes.”

The command had issued from Ware standing a few feet away. He was still in full armor, and his expression was the same impassive mask he had worn at the village. Did nothing move him? Thea wondered.

His hardness suddenly enraged her. “Why? So you can send him back to his village to die again?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, and his expression never changed. “Send me word.”

She turned on her heel and went into the castle.

Haroun did not wake until near dawn the next day.

“Mama…”

Thea’s hand tightened around his. She would not lie to him. The pain would just be harder to bear later. “There were only two survivors of the fire. You and an old man…” She tried to remember the name Jasmine had mentioned. “Malik ben Karrah.”

“Fire?”

He had evidently been struck down before the fires had been set. “There was a fire.” She dabbed at his head with a wet cloth. “Try to go back to sleep.”

His lids slowly closed. “Yes.” Two tears rolled down his cheeks. “Mama…”

He was a child again, no longer the little proud soldier who had streaked about the courtyard carrying his torch like a bright banner. She wanted to gather him close as she had Selene on the morning their mother had died, but he was not her own. He belonged to no one now. She swallowed. “I promise it will be better soon.”

She stayed there, holding his hand, until he went back to sleep.

“You should go to your own bed,” Jasmine said as she set a fresh bowl of water on the table by the bed. “I’ll stay with the boy.”

Thea shook her head. With his hand still clasped in her own, she felt that leaving him would be a betrayal. “You sleep. You’ve not rested either.”

Jasmine hesitated and then finally nodded. “One of us must show some sense.” She moved brusquely toward the door. “I’ll tell Tasza to come to you in a few hours and see if you wish to rest. Tasza is good with children.”

But not as good as she is with men, Thea thought dryly, then felt a sudden rush of shame. The girl had become a whore when she was a mere child herself. Who was Thea to condemn her for trying to find security in a world that could orphan children like Haroun in one night of horror? “That won’t be necessary. Perhaps she could come to see him in a few days when he’s better.”

“Today.”

Thea wearily shook her head as the door closed behind Jasmine. Why had she bothered to argue? The woman would do as she pleased. She supposed she should be grateful that Jasmine had decided it pleased her to help Thea. Heaven knew she had needed support this night.

“The boy will live?”

Thea stiffened when she saw Ware standing in the doorway. He was no longer in armor, but he might as well have been. His face was as hard as a shield.

“I think so.”

He came into the chamber. “Jasmine said he woke and spoke to you. I told you to send for me when he woke.”

“Why should I? It seems Jasmine runs to you with every bit of news.”

His gaze searched Haroun’s face. “I want to speak to the boy.”

“No.” She moved protectively closer. “He’s sleeping again. I won’t have him disturbed.”

“I have no intention of shaking him awake.” He sat down in the chair. “I’ll wait.”

She did not want him there. His calm indifference grated on her control like salt on a wound. The world had ended for so many tonight and he did not care. “It may be hours.”

“I’ll wait.”

He was master there; she could not banish him. But she could ignore him.

It was not necessary. He did not appear to know she was in the chamber. He stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him.

Haroun opened his eyes three hours later. His gaze immediately fastened on Ware. “My lord?” he whispered.

Ware bent forward. “I need something from you, lad. Are you well enough to help me?”

Haroun nodded and then flinched. “But I cannot fight them…yet.”

“No, I have soldiers aplenty. I need you to tell me something. I need you to think back to when the village was attacked.”

“No!” Thea said.

He didn’t look at her. “Can you do that for me, Haroun?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. “They came at sundown. I was at the well drawing water for our evening meal. Mama was standing in the doorway.” He stopped. “When they rode into the village, she tried to get to me. They…the arrow—”

“Stop this.” Thea glared at Ware. “There’s no need for this cruelty.”

“Be quiet.” His gaze never left the boy’s face. “I don’t need to know about your mother, Haroun. Who were the men who attacked? Were they bandits?”

He shook his head. “I don’t…think so. They were Franks but not clean shaven like most Franks. Beards…a red cross on their mantles.” His eyes opened, brimming with moisture. “Is it enough, my lord?”

“It’s enough.” He rose to his feet. “You’ve done well. You have the makings of a soldier, lad. Now go back to sleep. We’ll talk again when you’re better.” He strode toward the door and glanced at Thea as he opened it. “Find someone to watch him and come to the Great Hall. I would have words with you.”

She wanted words with him, too. She wanted to hurl the same foul words at him she had heard the camel drivers use. She wanted to push him from the battlements.

“I’ve…done well,” Haroun said. “Did you hear him?”

“I heard him.” She tried to keep the anger from her voice. “Now go back to sleep. When you awake, I’ll get you some broth to eat.”

“I…did well….” He drifted off to sleep.

Ware was standing at the window, looking out at the mountains when she strode into the hall.

“That was cruel and unnecessary,” she burst out. “The boy has just lost his mother. Couldn’t you have waited until he healed a little?”

“No. If the attackers were bandits, we would have pursued them.”

“So that more people could die?”

He didn’t turn around. “Yes, that is war.”

“And it means nothing to you, does it? All those men and women and children…”

“Everyone dies.”

“Not like that.” She moved across the room toward him. “Those children…” She had to stop to steady her voice. “Not the children. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“No.”

“Then why did it?”

“My fault.” His voice was almost inaudible.

“What?”