Time to Love Again (30 page)

But Hank was too upset to go back to the
computer immediately.

“What are all these people doing, wandering
around the building on the Sunday before Christmas?” he demanded in
an offended voice. “First that Brant guy, now old Moore comes in
here for the second time. Why don’t they stay home and decorate
their trees? If I have one more interruption while I’m trying to
think, I swear I’ll—”

“Mr. Marsh, is everything all right?” asked
the janitor, opening the door and poking his head into the office.
“You just blew another circuit down in the basement.”

“We’re fine. Just fix it – and fast,” said
Willi, pushing the door shut again.

“-give up,” Hank finished, throwing his hands
into the air in disgust.

“No, you will not. I won’t
let
you
give up.” Knowing he needed encouragement, Willi faced him with a
smile, trying her best to hide the cold anger she felt toward him.
For India’s sake, she would be nice to Hank for a while longer.
“You almost succeeded on this last try. You only need one more
attempt, Hank. Just one more. Come on, you can do it. You know you
can.”

In a blast of peach-colored light, India and
Theu stood once more upon a hillside near Agen. The first thing
India became aware of after realizing where she was, was the sound
of frightened horses. Dropping his sword and letting go of her,
Theu leapt to the animals to catch their reins before they could
bolt.

India watched him wrestling with the horses,
unable to do anything to help him because she felt too slow-witted
and clumsy to move. By the time Theu had tied the horses to a tree
and returned to her, she was swaying on her feet.

“Sit down until you are steadier,” he
ordered.

“No.” She leaned against him. “Don’t let me
go. Hold me.” His arms were reassuring, providing stability and a
measure of safety.

“Did it make you sick, too?” she asked.

“I was only dizzy for a moment,” he replied.
“India, I saw your time. I caught a glimpse of the world in which
you once lived. There was a room with pale walls and glowing white
boxes.”

“That was Hank’s office.” She was feeling a
little better with his arms around her.

“It was an ugly place,” he said. “Everything
was smooth, with no decoration, and so little color.”

“Did you see my friend, Willi? She was there,
too.”

“I saw a girl who looked like Bertille.” He
took a deep breath. “I could never live in that world, India.”

“I know.” She burrowed into his chest,
clinging to his strength. “I don’t think I could live there either
now. Not after knowing you.”

They rode back to Agen in the way they had
originally begun their travels together, with India seated in front
of Theu on his horse. Her own horse was tied to Theu’s saddle and
ambled along behind them. India lay against Theu’s chest, still
feeling unsettled and ill after her brief trip to the twentieth
century and back.

“Theu,” she said as they neared Agen, “let me
go into Spain with you. Let me be with you for as long as I
can.”

“It is impossible, and you know it.” His
mouth was hard, and it seemed to her that her words had broken
their earlier closeness, driving him away from her. “When I am on
campaign, all my thoughts must be on my men and on the coming
battles. Your presence would distract me from the things I have to
do. Nor would I put you into the danger you would surely face along
the way and when our battles are fought.”

“Please,” she begged, thinking with fear of
their coming separation.

“I cannot allow it. Do not ask again.”

But she did ask again, not of Theu, who she
knew would be immovable on the subject, but she could ask Marcion
and she did, during her second evening spent with Charles and his
family and friends.

It was a quieter night than the previous one.
Hrulund, apparently preoccupied by thoughts of the march that was
to begin on the morrow, and perhaps by thoughts of the hard days to
come after the morrow, confined himself to only a few mild boasts
and then sat talking with Autar and Turpin. Hildegarde was plainly
unwell, but did her valiant best to appear cheerful before her
husband and his companions. Around the reception room, friends
gathered in small groups to say their farewells. Men and women
stood together holding hands or arm-in-arm, and a few overwrought
young girls burst into tears throughout the course of the evening.
While Theu spoke to Charles, India sought out Marcion.

“I want to go, too,” she said. “I can ride
well now, and I would find ways to be helpful.”

“Under no circumstances would Theu allow it,”
Marcion replied with uncharacteristic seriousness. “You would only
be in the way. We would have to worry about you, perhaps even
rescue you from the Saracens. The conditions on the march and in
our nightly camps would not be suitable for you. A woman does not
belong in a military campaign.”

“In my country, women are soldiers, too,” she
cried. “And what about the women who follow the army?”

“You are not one
of them
.” Marcion was
horrified. “Do not bother Theu with this foolish plan. He would
never agree to it. Let him think of you safe here, with the queen
and the other ladies. Give him that peace of mind, so he can devote
himself to warfare.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do.” His mood turning gentler, he became
once more the friend she had known since Saxony. “You love him and
you do not want to part from him. It’s natural enough. No one can
blame you for what you are feeling, but give up this foolish idea.
India, Lady Remilda has said that I may have a few moments alone
with Bertille, and she is beckoning to me. I must leave you.”

Nor did she have any better luck with
Hugo.

“You can’t do it,” Hugo said bluntly. “Not
one of Theu’s men would help you, and rightly so. There would be no
point in trying to disguise yourself, either, because then you
would have to stay away from Theu to keep your identity hidden, and
that would defeat your purpose. If Theu discovered you along the
way, he would only send you back here to Agen, and that would mean
wasting men who would have to ride with you to give you protection.
Do as Theu wants. Stay here. Don’t risk his anger or your life. Not
every man in the army is as good-hearted as those in our band who
brought you here from Saxony. Charles keeps the army on a tight
rein, so there is not as much rape or killing of women and children
as you would find in other armies, but still, a woman alone is easy
prey. Be sensible. Don’t do it.” He left her then to seek Danise’s
company, leaving her with the impression that he was nearly as
angry with her as Theu would have been if he had heard their
conversation.

India felt utterly defeated. She could not
make anyone understand her warnings, and she would not be allowed
to travel into Spain with Theu. But there was one thing she could
still do for him before they parted. When he returned to her side,
she approached him directly.

“Take me to your tent tonight,” she said.

“That would not be wise,” he began, but she
cut him off. In this at least she would not be thwarted.

“Wise or not, I will find my way into your
bed tonight,” she said, adding with great daring, “unless, of
course, you are too weak and weary after today’s activities?”

“Never!” Fierce male pride blazed in his eyes
at the implied insult to his virility. It was quickly followed by
laughter and tenderness as he relented. “If you do not come to me,
I think I will invade the women’s quarters and drag you off by your
hair,” he said. He paused, looking around the room. “Nor do I
imagine that anyone would notice your absence, for on this night
all lovers will want to be together.”

The evening ended early, with Charles and
Hildegarde taking their children and retiring for an hour or two of
family privacy before the little ones were sent to bed. Once they
were gone and the rest of the company had begun to leave too,
Bertille came to India and linked arms with her. India pulled
away.

“I will be sleeping elsewhere tonight,” she
said, not certain what Bertille’s response would be. So far, there
had been remarkably little condemnation of her publicly announced
relationship with Theu. Sister Gertrude had made a few expected
pungent remarks, but the other women, including Bertille’s mother,
the strict Lady Remilda, seemed to feel that since India was a
widow, it was her own business if she had a lover. Bertille
accepted her statement with casual ease.

“I’m not surprised,” Bertille said, kissing
her. “I wish my mother would let me go to Marcion tonight.”

“Your mother is wise to protect you.” India
thought of unplanned pregnancies and men who did not return from
war.

“She says our time will come,” Bertille went
on, “and that when it does, I will understand why the waiting was
necessary.”

They parted after a few more words, India
silently wondering if Bertille and Marcion would ever know a time
when they could be together as lovers. Then she saw Theu waiting
for her by the door, and she forgot everyone and everything but
him.

Outside the town among the tents, the horses,
the piled-up supplies, and the heavy wooden baggage carts, the
campfires were ablaze, lighting the figures of men hastening to
finish loading the carts or packing their saddlebags. For those who
had completed their preparations and who did not have their own
women at Agen, the camp followers were busily plying their
trade.

Amid all the bustle and the coming and going,
Theu’s tent was a place of quiet. It was sparsely furnished,
containing a table, a chair, and a bed, all of which could be
easily folded up, and also a traveling clothes chest and a small
box of sand to clean his armor.

“We’ll make room for both of us,” he said,
seeing her looking at the bed.

“It’s such a small place to be your home for
months at a time,” she remarked, touching the undyed wool wall of
the tent.

“It is often crowded, too. Marcion has his
own tent that he brought with him from Lombardy, but when the
weather is bad, I invite Hugo to share mine with me.”

“What about those who are sick or
injured?”

“There is always a tent for the worst cases.
We take along barber-surgeons, and several baggage carts filled
with bandages and other medical supplies.”

The ever-present knot in her chest tightened,
and suddenly India did not want to hear another word on that
subject.

“Love me,” she whispered, believing that if
she could hold him close enough she would be able to convince
herself that he might return to her in spite of all her fears.

“I intend to,” he said, reaching for her.
“All night long, until the trumpet blows at dawn.”

“Don’t talk of trumpets. Don’t talk of
anything but love.” She put her arms around him and gave him her
lips.

“Knowing our time together is brief makes
each moment all the sweeter,” he said. “Believe me, India, and
listen well, lest I have no time to say it later. Until the last
breath leaves my body, I will not stop thinking of you or wanting
you. If I die in this campaign, I will die wanting you in my arms
just once more, wanting your lips on mine for one last kiss.”

“Don’t talk of dying, either,” she cried,
clutching him as tightly as she could. “I can’t bear it.”

“I promise I will do all I can to return to
you, and I pray that when I see Agen again, you will still be here,
waiting for me.”

“I will be.” The words tumbled out, spurred
by fear and love. “I’ll refuse to go with Hank. I’ll find a way. I
will wait for you, Theu. I promise I’ll wait.”

His mouth was on hers, urgent, demanding.
They tore at each other’s clothes, and when they were naked, fell
onto his cot for a wild and passionate coupling that rocked the
inadequately sized bed until India thought it would collapse.

Oddly, they made love only once more that
night. It seemed more important to talk. She asked endless
questions, wanting to know every detail of his life up to the
moment of their meeting in Saxony.

“Did you really think I was a boy and still
want me?” she asked, amused by the idea of her passionate and
intensely masculine lover caught in such an imaginary predicament.
It was hard for her to think back to that time, when she had
believed Theu was nothing but a bloodthirsty warrior.

“My heart knew you at once for what you are,”
he told her. “You are the one who has brought joy and love back
into my life.”

Toward dawn, all talking done and knowing
there was not much time left to them, they came together again in a
joining that was exquisitely sad, yet happy too, and above all,
deeply reverent, as though they were sealing the bond that made
their hearts one.

“You are my wife as surely as if there were a
marriage contract between us,” Theu said, kissing her tenderly, “or
a priest blessing us when the contract has been read. Never think
for a moment that anything we have done together is wrong. You and
I were meant to love, and even time could not keep us apart.”

Too soon came the moment when the trumpet
blew to rouse the men.

“I’ll help you arm,” she said, pulling on
tier borrowed blue gown in some haste, in case someone should come
to speak to him. She vowed that she would keep her rising terror
under control, but her hands began to tremble.

He had his tunic on when Osric appeared to
help him with the heavy chain mail
brunia
, and India was
glad for the intrusion, knowing she would have been of little use
to Theu by then. But she did buckle on his sword belt and then
picked up his metal helmet.

“If I do not return,” he began, and caught
her face, making her look at him when she winced at the thought and
would have turned away to hide her tears. “No, India, listen to me.
You are to go on as bravely as you have done since first you came
to me. You are the bravest woman I have ever known. Who else could
do what you have done? Take pride in your courage.