Time to Love Again (15 page)

“Wait.” Her emotions in turmoil, India caught
at his arm. “I recognize that peach color. I think Hank has found
me.”

“So soon?” Still holding his sword out to
fend off whatever was in the corner of his house, never taking his
eyes away from the pulsing light, Theu straightened to put a
protective left arm around her. “How can I let you go to him?”

Torn between conflicting desires, she could
not speak. She leaned against him, drawing courage from his
unflinching strength.

“Don’t go. Stay with me,” he urged.

Before she could answer him, a fearful
movement tore through the single-roomed house like an earthquake,
the vibration rattling the walls and the door and almost knocking
them off their feet. The house went dark except for the glimmering
oil lamp on the table and the fading embers in the firepit.
Remarkably, there seemed to be no damage, only an echoing silence
when the long tremor was over.

“What has happened here?” Theu demanded.
Releasing India, he took a step toward the corner where the
mysterious light had been. He moved his sword about, reaching here
and there into the corner with it, as if he expected to encounter
some obstacle invisible to human eyes.

“I believe Hank’s attempt at rescue has
failed,” India said, unsure whether she was happy or sad about it.
Not dropping his sword by even a fraction of an inch, Theu withdrew
his gaze from the corner to send a fierce glance in her
direction.

“You need no rescue from me.”

“Hank doesn’t know that.” Her voice trembled
and she felt distinctly shaky, as if she were being pulled in
several directions at once. She thought it was more than an
emotional reaction on her part. Aware of a strong physical aspect
to what she felt, she surmised that Hank had come very close to
actually retrieving her.

“He will try again,” Theu said. “I would, if
I thought you were in danger. I would not stop trying until I had
you safe beside me once more.” With a final searching look around
the house to be sure no perils waited in the shadows, he turned
aside to lay his sword upon the table, where it would be within
easy reach should he need it. India, still staring at the place
where the light had been, did not see him stand with bowed head and
clenched fists, keeping his back toward her while he exerted all
his will to contain his rage against Hank and his fear of losing
her.

“I wonder why the light appeared in that
particular corner,” India said. “Theu, what is in the box?”

He did not answer for a moment or two. She
started to ask the question again, but he came toward her, his face
composed and hard, not looking directly at her.

“Clean sand,” he said.

“Sand?” she repeated. “Are you serious?”

“To clean the
brunia
. I put sand in
the tray and rub the links through it to scour away blood or rust
or any other dirt.” He paused, then added, “If you are still here
tomorrow, I will show you how it’s done.”

Hearing the pain in his voice, she laid one
hand upon his arm. He moved out of her reach, shaking off the touch
she had meant to be comforting.

“Well, if it’s sand and nothing more,” she
said, determined not to give way to the tears of confusion now
threatening to destroy her fragile composure, “then there can’t be
any specific reason why the light appeared in that corner. But I
should have known that. If location had anything to do with it, the
light wouldn’t have appeared here at all, but in Saxony, where I
first landed in this time.”

“You want to return,” he accused her. “You
want to go back to him.”

“Not to
him
,” India responded.’! do
not love Hank. You believe the rest of my story -believe that, too.
Actually, I would like to see Willi again and tell her everything
that has happened to me and hear her comments about it all. But
except for Willi, there is no one and nothing to draw me back to
the twentieth century.”

“Then stay in this time.”

“I don’t know if I can. And even if I can, I
don’t know if I should. Can I move from one time to another,
blindly changing the course of history in ways I can’t even begin
to understand, and not pay some terrible price? Or possibly cause
people in my own time, or in this time, or in the intervening
centuries to pay the price for me?” She watched him shake his head
at that, and knew he had no more answers than she had. He was
silent and thoughtful for so long that she began to fear he was
angry with her.

“Would you tell your story to someone else?”
he asked, the proposal startling her by its suddenness. “Before you
answer, consider that there is a benefit to this night’s unpleasant
incident. Before it occurred, I believed you because I wanted to
believe you. Now I
know
that you are telling the truth,
having seen with my own eyes what happened here, and I can bear
witness to your honesty, should any person question it. There are
those who would blame that light we saw on witchcraft, but I know
one who would at least consider your explanation of it.”

“It’s possible that the more people who know
what has happened to me, the more damage will be done,” she said,
wrestling with philosophical and mathematical concepts far beyond
her training. “Who is this person?”

“Alcuin. I know him well enough to ask for
his time and his opinion.”

“The famous scholar?”

“Charles has ordered him to reform the palace
school,” Theu said. “Thus, Alcuin must follow the court, though he
hates to travel. We will find him at Agen, with Charles.”

“He will succeed with the school,” she told
him, almost forgetting her own problems in sheer excitement at the
possibility of meeting one of the most remarkable men of the
period. “More than that, Alcuin will devise and sponsor a style of
writing that is so easy to read and write that it will be the basis
for handwriting and for machine printing for centuries to come.
He’ll invent punctuation, too, and write a prayer that is still
used in the churches of my day. I learned it when I was a child –
’Oh, God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from
whom no secrets are hid,”‘ she quoted.

“He will be happy to know this,” Theu said
when she paused for breath.

“I can’t tell him,” she responded sadly. “I
shouldn’t be telling you. Theu, I never considered it before, but
can you read and write?”

“A little. It’s difficult to do.”

“I’m sure it is. I’ve seen pictures of the
old script – lots of strokes above and below the line, and no
punctuation at all. It’s a wonder anyone ever became literate. It
never occurred to me that you would be.”

“For the most part, I choose to remember the
information I need,” he told her, his words making her once again
reassess this man whom she had at first thought was a purely
physical creature. “Memorization is easier than writing words down,
and parchment can be lost or destroyed. What is in my thoughts
remains there. India, will you tell Alcuin your story?”

“I would like very much to meet him, because
I admire him enormously,” she said slowly, thinking over the idea.
“After we have talked, then I will decide whether or not to tell
him. Does this mean I can go to Agen with you?”

“There was never any doubt of it. You will
have to see Charles because I had to tell him about you in order to
make a full report on my foray into Saxony.”

“Then I’ll meet Charles and Alcuin both,” she
said, awed by the prospect.

“If you are not elsewhere by the time I reach
Agen.” He amended her statement in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, but
she heard the sadness behind his words and went to him to put her
arms around his waist and lay her head upon his broad chest. This
time he did not reject her effort to provide comfort, nor did he
hide his feelings.

“How can I live if you are gone?” he asked,
folding her in his embrace. “Suppose
Ahnk
comes again today
or later tonight? Will you believe it is your duty to go with
him?”

“I’m not sure I’ll have any choice when the
time comes,” she said. “But I have a feeling that whatever will
happen, won’t happen immediately. I suspect that Hank has blown a
fuse, and possibly burnt out a new component or two. If that is so,
it will take some time for him to make the necessary repairs.”

Theu had found women’s clothing for India to
wear. That was the pile of folded fabric he had brought to his
house the previous night and which he shook out for her inspection
in the early morning. A coarse linen shift, a faded blue wool gown
with rounded neck and short loose sleeves, a belt made of twisted
and knotted fibers, and a square of grey wool that could serve as a
shawl or short cloak, depending on how it was folded and draped,
made up her new wardrobe.

“It’s a serving woman’s clothing,” he told
her, “since there are no noblewomen here from whom I could buy or
borrow a gown. I am sorry that I cannot offer you silk or fine wool
in some beautiful color. You deserve better than this, but at least
it is clean.”

“So you really did know I wasn’t a boy before
you saw me without my clothes,” she said, fingering the gown.

“How could any true man not know?” he
replied. Winding his hand through her hair, he pulled her close to
kiss her. She responded with eagerness and relief.

After the mysterious light had vanished
during the night, he had held her possessively for a time, as if to
reassure himself that she would not leave him. But when she felt
his body begin to stir into passionate arousal, he left the bed to
dress himself and sit in one of the chairs, remaining on guard
while she tried to sleep. She thought his sudden reserve was caused
by a concern that while they were in the midst of lovemaking, Hank
might try again to get her back. This belief was reinforced by the
carefully controlled way in which Theu set her aside now. Sighing,
she slipped the linen shift over her head and reached for the gown.
In silence, Theu cut a wedge of leftover bread and a chunk of
cheese and handed the food to her.

“Talk to me,” she begged. “Tell me what
you’re thinking.”

“Only that I must visit Eudon this morning,”
he said, “and later begin to make arrangements for horses and
supplies for our journey to Agen. Then I ought to speak to the
clerics to be certain my report is on its way to Charles.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” she protested.

“It will have to do for now.” Picking up the
grey wool square, he wrapped it around her shoulders. “You should
have a brooch to hold this together. Most noblewomen do. Ill find
one for you as soon as I can. If you are still here.”

While arranging the grey folds at the back of
her neck, his fingers brushed against the chain holding her
medallion, which she had tucked beneath her clothing. He pushed
aside a lock of her hair that had become entangled in the
chain.

“How can we talk about what has happened when
we know so little?” he asked. “All I am certain of is that what is
between us will be of short duration, for you will leave me,
whether you want to or not. All we have is now. This day, this
hour, this moment. And in every day there is duty as well as
pleasure. While I may wish to lie with you again, to bury myself in
your sweetness, I have obligations I cannot deny.”

She would have reminded him that each day’s
duties had an end, that when nightfall came they could be together
once more in the privacy of his house, but she knew he was right.
When evening arrived, she might be gone. In his firm restraint, in
his determination to do what duty required of him for the benefit
of his king and his men, she found strength.

“Tell me how I can help you this day,” she
said and saw in his eyes his warm response to her offer.

She went with him to see Eudon, who lay on a
pallet placed upon the floor of the narrow, barracks-like building
where the men-at-arms slept. Hugo was with him.

“We’ve just come back from the bath that’s
famous for healing wounds,” Hugo informed them. “In the hot water
Eudon was able to move his leg and hip freely again. The stiffness
he suffered after riding is completely gone.”

After the last few days of riding and
occasional bouts of fever, India had expected Eudon to develop an
infection in his wound and probably die of it, since the only
treatment available after the cauterization Theu had done was
application of herbal poultices. To her surprise, he appeared to be
recovering.

“I’ll be fit to ride again in a day or two,”
he informed Theu. “I’ll not miss the coming campaign.”

“You will have several days to regain your
strength before we can leave,” Theu said.

“Don’t go without me.” Then Eudon smiled at
India. “I always knew you were a girl. You have hands too gentle
for a boy.”

“Are we still to call you India?” Hugo asked,
looking at her feminine garb.

“It is my real name,” she replied.

“It’s a relief to me not to have to pretend
anymore that you are a boy,” Hugo told her. “I’m not good at
pretending.”

“Did everyone know?” she asked him.

“All of us.” He grinned at her. “You couldn’t
fool the most stupid of us for very long, but we went along with
your disguise because Theu said to, in case you were a Saxon spy or
perhaps a criminal running from justice. But we soon saw you were
no ordinary woman when you did not complain at the pace of our
travel or the lack of dainty food. Then, after you helped Eudon,
you were like one of us.”

“How fond I am of you,” she said, looking at
Hugo and then down at Eudon. “Of all of you.”

“Be warned, Marcion will surely tease you
about wearing boy’s clothes.” Hugo’s pale blue eyes twinkled at the
prospect. “Answer him boldly.”

“I shall.” Changing the subject, she asked,
“Hugo, do you know if the lady Danise has left Aachen yet? If not,
I would like to visit with her.”