| |
Christian is up and gone before dawn. I use the pot in the corner and wash myself with the clean water that is always available to him. The Prince has what he needs before he needs it. He has men to serve him, and myself to see to the rest. My dresses are hanging beside his things. I cannot resist touching my finger to the fine lace ruffle cuff of his blouse or running my hand over the smooth silk of his blue and gold vest. How handsome he is wearing these fine things. How manly he is when he is dirty, sweaty, and weighed down by his mail. How beautiful his body when he leaves our bed naked after making love to me. Every part of me is humming with love for him. I am bewitched. I think about mother and Beth-Ann. Mother would say, remember who you are, Maeve. Remember what you must do. Beth-Ann would say, he’s a fine cock, sister. Good on you. I wipe my eyes.
My family tried to prepare me for whatever should come to pass, but nothing could prepare me for the evil that men do. The Cardinal hanged those people for stealing bread and I am here eating with them. I took their communion. I am not thinking straight. I should not be here where innocent blood will be spilled. The rebels are fighting for their land and their way of life. They are resisting the hoard that comes with their death and destruction. They fight for their freedom. I should be fighting evil and instead I am fucking it. I fell in love with it. What am I going to do?
I read the message that he scratched out. That is what it looks like, scratches on a scrap of leather. Stay inside. Both words are misspelled, but I fold it up and keep it anyway because I doubt if he writes many letters. I have enough room to stretch and reach as far as I need to. While I move, I ask for strength to make the right decisions, the courage to keep going, and give thanks for my child and my life.
My mind is deep in my meditation and my dark skin is shiny with sweat.
“Maeve, are you decent?”
“I hope I am more than decent. Why? Do you think I am indecent? Are you still upset because I called you adequate?”
Men chuckle outside the tent. What did I say that would cause them to laugh at me?
“Are you dressed, Maeve?” He asks sharply. “I have men with me.
“Yes, I am.” I feel foolish for misunderstanding him. Christian enters the tent followed by his brother and cousin. I move as far away from him as I can. The cousin is tugging at his collar.
“That thing on your neck is looking a bit green. What did you say happened again?”
Ezra sounds suspicious. Does he know what happened? Does he know that I cut him?
“I cut myself shaving.” Devon touches the inflamed wound.
“What were you shaving with?” Christian laughs. “An axe?”
“It looks like a sword cut to me.” Ezra says thoughtfully. “Were you touching things that do not belong to you again?”
He looks at me and I look away. Why is he speaking of this now? What will it help?
“Am I missing something?” Christian looks from Ezra to Devon and back to Ezra again. When neither speaks, he turns to me. “Did you cut him?”
“Did he die?” I ask in my defense. “I only nicked him.”
He shoves me aside and grabs Devon by the throat. His fingernail digs into the wound opening it up again. I watch in as he shoves his cousin outside into the open and raises his fists.
“This will be a fair fight. When it is over, you will make your way home to your mother’s people. You are banned from the palace forthwith.”
“My place is in the palace.” Devon says with a villainous smile. “I will be there long after you lose your place behind this mongrel.”
He spits the word like phlegm.
Christian laughs. “You are a coward. cousin.”
They circle each other like brawlers as the men crowd around.
“If you believe that insulting her will anger me and make me clumsy, you are sadly mistaken. You know me better than that. My aunt and the priests have called her every name in the book. You left out a few, black-whore, brown dog, shit-skin.”
My Christian looks to be enjoying himself at his cousins’ expense.
“They even produced a man who swore on the bible that he had her first when I know that to be a lie. Maeve bled like I cut her when I first stuck my cock in her. She cried for five minutes.”
“You are embarrassing yourself and shaming your family when you carry on with this filth.”
“The only filth you should be concerned about is your whore mother and cowardly father. It is no wonder you turned out the way you did, Devon. A bastard orphan.”
Christian is ready when Devon attacks. I want to aid him though he does not need it. A protectiveness has come over me that I must hold back. The urge to kill this cousin and end the fight is strong. My warrior dances around his foe and puts on a show that is almost comical as he beats Devon the way the villagers beat their children. It makes Devon look weak before the men. That hurts him worse than the beating. A weak woman would tremble when faced with the hostility and hate that I see when he looks at me. I sympathize with him, for I know that he will not survive the day. When he is beaten-down and defeated, Christian raises his hands in victory. The men cheer their Prince. He makes the mistake of turning his back on his cousin who leaps at the chance to avenge his pride. I am not cursed with lightning speed, nor can I strike a man down with the wave of my hand like some. But, I can run. I am not faster than Devon’s sword when he runs his cousin through.
I stop breathing. My Prince’s green eyes are wide with shock when he looks down to see the red and silver blade protruding from his chest. Devon pulls his sword free and Christian falls into my arms knocking us both down. The men erupt into yelling, and rush to his aide. He killed him! He killed my Christian. I remain on my back under the force of this great blow. I was given a lover and he was all too soon taken away. I close my eyes when I cannot look at him anymore. I beg the creator for his life. Who will love me now? Who will keep me safe? Who will give me the gladness that he does? I stand to my feet and take a deep breath as his men render him aide. The cousin is surrounded by the men, swinging his sword wildly. I walk through them with deadly intent. I duck Devon’s swings and cut him down with a single stroke of my blade. I know he is dead, but I continue to hack his corpse to pieces until someone drags me away from the pile of mangled body parts and shredded blue silk.
My face and cloak are soaked in it when I turn and walk away from the silent men to go to my wounded Prince. The sound that comes out of me is low and preening as I fall to his side and cradle his head in my lap. This is not happening. I am having a night terror. None of this is real. I cannot lose him. I do not care what he is. I know who he is, and he is the man that I love. My darling Christian. After already losing my family, I love him so much that I think I might die with him if he leaves me. Is this gut-wrenching torture that is tearing me apart what he felt when I cut my own throat? How could I do that him? How could I be so cruel?
“Maeve.” He reaches out his bloody hand to touch my face. “My love.”
His voice is weak as his life’s blood spills from him with every breath.
“I am here, my darling.”
I whisper, holding it to my cheek. My hands are warm, and I am tingling all over. My body is trying to heal him.
“I am dying, Mae.” He smiles. “You must trust Ezra, he will take you to your mountain.”
“You are not dying.” I whisper. “Not for a very, very long time.” I turn to Ezra. “We need to get him to his tent. I can help him.”
“Pick him up and carry him to his bed.” He instructs the men, before helping to lift his brother. “Be careful with him.”
I follow them into the tent. They lay Christian upon the bed so gingerly that it makes me tear up again. All the men back away from the bed except for Ezra.
“Send for the physicians.”
“I need room to work.” I hold Christian’s hand as he groans in misery. “Leave us alone.”
“My brother is dying, I want to be with him when he does.”
“Make them leave.” I do not ask. “Now.”
“Listen to her, Ezra.” He gasps. “Get them out of here.”
My hand glows when I lay it on Christian’s bleeding chest. I am as surprised as Ezra. It has never glowed so brightly before. I snatch it away before the other men see it.
“Get out!” He snaps. “All of you! Out now!” Ezra pushes and shoves until we are alone. “What do you need me to do? I want to help.”
“Undress him.” I start tearing off my own clothes. “Remove everything.”
Ezra does not ask any questions. He cuts his brothers clothes away with his knife. I am not bothered by my nakedness with my Prince dying before me. I lay on top of him and pull the quilt up over us.
“Do not touch me until he wakes up.” I warn. “Leave me in the sun when it is over. Somewhere I will not easily be found.”
I close my eyes and push my energy into the Butcher. I push healing power in and death out. I give him everything that I have. I will save him, even if it means losing him. I only mean to heal him inside enough to save his life. I get lost in myself and I cannot stop. Even after I pass-out, I continue to heal him.
“Brother?” Ezra cries in joy. “You are alive.”
“What happened?”
Christian is muddle-headed and thirsty. Then he looks down and sees the weight on his chest. He touches my hair and his hand comes away sticky.
“Blood.” He says in alarm. “Maeve, love. Wake up.”
“The blood is yours.” Ezra eases his worries. “Devon stabbed you through the chest. You are supposed to be dead.”
“Maeve, wake up, Princess?” The Prince shakes me. “Maeve!” He yells frantically.
“Keep your voice down.” Ezra hisses. “You are supposed to be dying. Get back in that bed and...” His words are lost when he sees his brothers’ bare chest. “Blessed be the Saints... You are healed.”
“Maeve healed me.” Christian whispers. “She brought me back from the dead.”
“She is a miracle.” Ezra breathes reverently. “Imagine what we can accomplish with her power. We can...”
“She is a Payne, Ezra.” He snaps at his brother. “They will burn her.”
“A gift such as hers belongs to the church. She can heal our family and the clergy...”
“Did you not hear me? They will burn her. I cannot let that happen.”
“What are you doing?” Ezra demands when his brother attempts to leave the bed.
“I need to get her outside.” Christian is up and walking again hours after being murdered by his cousin. “She needs to lay in the sun.”
“You knew?” The older Beaumont gasps. “You knew what she was all this time and you said nothing?”
“Yes.” He lifts me into his arms. “I know, and it matters not. I am keeping her.”
“You would keep her powers all to yourself and not share her? She is a healer, Christian. The Cardinal’s wife has been ill for years, and what of father? You let them rot while she lays in your bed?”
“I knew that she could heal herself, but not others.”
“You cannot carry her out of here. The men will think you are a ghost. Stay in bed and play wounded. I will take her.”
“It works better if she is naked.”
“I have seen her naked.” Ezra reaches for me. “She has been naked all morning.”
“Be careful with her.” He says. “She is carrying my child.”
They both quiet as the revelation settles over them both. A Beaumont created a child that is half witch. It is an abomination.
“The Cardinal will be displeased.” Ezra is afraid for him. “Why would you do something so foolish? This is dangerous, damn it. You cannot keep her.”
“Who will take her from me?” The Butcher questions. “Maeve leaves when I tell her to.”
“Which means never.” Ezra is disappointed.
“Pretty much.” My Prince stretches and yawns.
“She and the child will be executed when the church learns of this. The witch killed Devon for killing you. The Cardinal will hang her anyway.”
“How do you know she killed him?”
“Because we all watched her disembowel him before she sliced him up like a fucking roast. She cut him up into little pieces, Christian. He had to be shoveled into a coffin.”
“Bloody hell!” Christian kicks over a chair. “I would expect no less of her.” He sighs. “She is protective of me.”
“Protective of you?” Ezra raises an eyebrow. “She killed him without even trying. She mutilated his corpse. I promise to leave her where no one will find her. It will give her a head start when they hunt her down.”
“You are not leaving Maeve in the fucking woods, Ezra.” Christian’s eyes narrow on his brother. “I expect you to stay with her, and when she awakens, you bring her back here to me. I need your word before I let you take her.”
“Highness?” A voice calls from outside the tent. “The physicians have been sent for.”
“Come in Orion.” Ezra bids him. “I give you my word, brother. I will return her after dark.” He turns to Orion. “No one touches him. If they come, you tell them that the woman sewed him up and he is resting.”
“Yes, Highness.” Orion nods his dark head.
“I love you, Princess. I will never forget what you did for me today.” Christian kisses my lips and lets me go. “If you are not here by nightfall, I will come searching for you myself.”
I come to stuck to the frosted ground and moaning for the Christian. Where am I? It is dark, and the night has grown cold. I cannot move. Where is he? I remember the fight and his cowardly cousin stabbing him in the back. That is lower than low. He deserved to die.
“Good, you are awake.”
Ezra Beaumont is standing over me. He wraps me in a blanket and carries me to his horse. Where is he taking me? I find out when he passes me off to Christian who is pacing his tent like a caged animal.
“Leave us.”
His brother nods and leaves us to ourselves. We are alone to love each other in private. He sits on the edge of his bed. I have tears in my eyes when I look up at him. He is alive.
“I am alive because of you, Maeve.” My Prince holds me like I might break. “You brought me back.” He sobs brokenly.
If I could speak, I would tell him how much I love him. That I will always love him.
“I love you too.”
We lay in his bed side-by-side while people come and go. He is still feigning sleep and I need not pretend. No matter how sleepy I am, I can hear trouble when it comes. It moves silently and silences the world around it. The entire camp goes quiet. I am dressed in a modest cream gown that covers all but my face. A group of men are arguing when they enter the tent. Crooked priests from the abbey.
“We are moving Prince Christian to the abbey where he can be seen by our physicians. Why is this woman in his bed at such a time?”
“As you can clearly see, the woman has fallen gravely ill. He asked for her when he was still able to speak. My brother is comfortable. Leave him be.”
“Your brother is a Beaumont, he should be resting in the abbey. Not some damp tent with this... this... murderess. The men are here to take her to the dungeon to await her execution.”
“There was no murder.” Ezra hisses angrily. “My brother still lives because of this woman. I will serve as her witness.”
“Devon was your cousin, Highness.” The priest with the biggest cross speaks up. “This woman stands accused of striking down her superior and she will hang. Take her away.”
“No one is taking the woman anywhere.” Ezra stands between me and the priests. “She belongs to my brother and he will not be happy to learn she was hanged while he was asleep.”
“Your brother does not pass down the law here. We do. I want that woman in chains and him inside the abbey getting the attention that he needs. The nuns eagerly await him.”
“They always do.” Ezra smirks. “My brother does enjoy breaking in virgins.”
The priests value Ezra’s dedication to the church, but they do not think very highly of him. I see the bridled hate in their ugly faces.
“No one is moving Christian, and that is that.” He says with finality. “My brother has been sent for and when he arrives, we are taking him home. The bastard cousin that you mentioned, almost killed him. As far as I am concerned, Devon can rot in hell.”
The priests cross themselves and leave the tent mumbling something about those damn arrogant Beaumonts. They are going to hang me if I cannot get away from them. Christian turns to me when he is sure they are gone. I burst into tears when he hugs me. I am not afraid to die with my family already waiting for me. My greatest failure will be killing our bloodline when my death comes to pass without issue. She died so that I can live. And, should I hang, her sacrifice will have been for nothing. Should I hang, I will miss my Prince. Will he forget me after I am buried or burned? Can our love survive after I cross over? I believe I will love him through always. Life after life, with heart after heart. They will all, each one, beat for Christian Beaumont. Maybe we will find each other again in another life, maybe we will not. Therefore, we must treasure our time together before it comes to an end.
Healing him was a mistake. Using my power draws bad things to me, if I am not careful, and what I did was far from careful. I pushed so much power, that I probably put a hundred years on his life. I healed a hole in a dead man’s heart and made it beat again. Christian was dead. I was laying on top of him when he died. I forsake that kind of power. I would rather have none. He should let them hang me and hope mother forgives me.
“I want to be alone with Maeve.” He is in my head helping himself to my secrets. “See that we are not disturbed. I want to make her comfortable.”
“Will she live?”
“Yes, she will be fine in a day or two.”
“What will you do? Father will never allow her back inside the palace after she killed his favorite brother’s son. He will be grateful to her for saving his best son, but Devon was family and she is an outsider. We can petition him in her defense and suggest banning over a hanging.”
“Father will side with the Cardinal and the priests. When has he ever gone against them for one of us? He will never side with her, no matter who she saves.”
“Then it is settled, she will return to her home.”
“I am not sending her away.” Christian kisses my lips. “I will take her away, but I will never send her away. She needs my protection.”
“From what?” Ezra exclaims loudly. “She can heal herself, she is the one who is protecting you. Give her some gold and send her back where she came from before she gets you killed. I am fond of her, honestly I am, but you are my brother Christian.”
“I love her, Ezra.” He is unapologetic. “Father will have three healthy sons when I leave.”
“You are still in shock after what happened and speaking like a confused person. You cannot leave your station and bring shame to our family.”
“My decision is made.” Christian cannot be dissuaded. “I am going.”
“We will discuss this later, Christian.” Ezra says tightly before leaving angry.
“We are leaving when the men ride into battle tonight. The camp will be deserted and dark without the cook fires burning. We can pack light and I will carry you on my horse. They will not notice I am gone until morning.” He whispers. “My mount can outrun them.”
I am too weak to thank him for taking me away, but he knows how I feel. Christian continues to nurse me while I am helpless. It is beneath him, and yet he does it anyway.
“Stop crying, my sweet. You need me. I want to take care of you the way you took care of me. It is my pleasure to care for you when you cannot do for yourself.”
He gives my hair a good washing and makes a valiant effort to comb it. When it does not work out the way he had hoped, he trades the comb for a brush.
“If I did not love your hair so much, I would cut it off.”
He ditches the brush next and ties it back with a piece of rope.
“I am wrapping you in a blanket. Blink once for shoes on or two for off.”
My hero smiles when I blink twice. Shoes off for the ride. He props me up in bed to watch him pack our things. The feather pillow and heavy blanket are rolled into a clean oil cloth that he ties up tight. He fills our water bags from the barrel near the tent flap. Christian dresses in dark clothing before hiding our packs under his bed. He lies down just before two men come in.
“Twas’ a death blow I tell ya. No man can live a sword through the heart. It is why they are keeping us away. Our Prince is dead.”
“Highness does not look dead to me, he is pink with life and his skin is warm praise be.”
“Praise be.” The second man agrees. “It is a blessing.”
“No, it is that woman.” The man whispers. “Otto pulled me aside to tell me that he saw a light in her hands when she touched him. It was hellfire! She has cast her dark magic on Highness.”
“Whatever it was, she saved him. I care not how she did it. Highness lives to fight another day. Look how he keeps her close. I say we kill Otto with the loose tongue before his poison can spread.”
“We will do it for his Highness.” The other man agrees.
I know Christian is smiling over my head as they leave. He has good men, and everyone loves him, from the chamber-pot boy to the Cardinal himself. They will curse him when he runs away from his family to be with a witch. We must name me for what I am, which is a witch. I am both unnatural and immoral. Mother told me to never reveal my true self to anyone for any reason. People die, Mae. You cannot save all. Your task is always to save yourself.
She is angry wherever she is. Am I so enchanted with a man that I would risk my line to save his life?
Did he tumble you so well that you would cast aside their sacrifices to save him? A man who keeps you as a whore? You have his seed, why do you linger? This is not about your need of an escort. When have you ever needed an escort? The Christian gives you free roam of his palace and if you were intent on leaving, you would be gone. You stay because your heart is dull-witted and weak, as are you.
The chastising voice is mine. A different me that I should listen to. I let them see me healing when Christian was bleeding to death. His pain was crippling, and I had to make it stop. Touching him while he was dying was a careless mistake that I cannot afford to make. In that moment, my safety did not cross my mind. I refused to lose him. Not after losing everything else that matters to me. Dull-witted, the voice whispers.
We lay in bed quietly while he bides his time. Ezra makes himself heard before he comes in with the Beaumont men. The tent fills with bodies that overflow outside to only the creator knows where. The open flap reveals an army of men in their bold blue, and bright, Beaumont gold covering the countryside.
“We have come to bid you farewell, brother.” It is the oldest brother who speaks for them. The future King and the one who hates me. “I am not sure if you can hear me, but if you can, I want to say that we are riding into battle in your stead. We carry your spirit with us, Christian.” The men grunt and cheer in agreement. “They will fall before us like crumbling walls!”
The brother is joyous and eager to spill rebel blood. The Beaumont men stamp their feet and chant in unison.
“We are [Beaumonts].” Ezra cries. “We will leave no heathen untouched by the wrath of God! Death to all!”
Their cheering makes my heart beat fast. Thousands of voices raised together will awe anyone with a soul. The men are wearing their mail and the fierce faces of natural killers. They wave their Beaumont flags and raise their swords like the blood-thirsty murderers that they are. Their voices raised in song gives me chills. These murderers of innocents are singing the praises of being Beaumont and faithful subjects of the church. A priest comes forward and stands beside Christian, who is a master at playing dead. He raises his hand to the crowd. The men quiet in the front and the message carries through the masses.
“Let us pray for young master Beaumont, may Devon’s black soul find a place in purgatory.” He says in a strong, clear voice.
The sea of men go down on one knee and bow their heads. These men who ask for blessings before they murder villagers and their livestock. They will crucify village elders and their families. Their corpses will be left on display to discourage further rebellion. My tears for them fall unnoticed as men file past the bed one after another on their way out. Christian would be with them if not for me. He would be leading them into battle. There will be no innocent blood on the Butcher’s hands this time.
“I shall return in a few days to take you home little brother.” The brother kisses his forehead. “May God keep you until then.”
The Prince is holding my hand under the coverlet. When they are gone, his eyes regard me sympathetically. I have seen these eyes when they are cold, black, and pitiless. I have seen them bright with a fire that I set in him. And now they are as innocent as a kitten’s, laced generously with concern and love that he does not hide. His dark lashes are feather soft with the gentleness of vulnerability. Deep down inside, under the steel, past the mayhem and murderer, the Butcher of Beaumont has a heart.
“How terrible it must be for you.”
His deep voice envelopes my silent body in a warm cocoon of satin and leather.
“Lying here with your thoughts unable to move or speak.” He brushes stray curls back out my eyes. “You are like a babe when you are this way.” Christian wipes my tears and kisses my lips. “I have been thinking, maybe you or your mother did put a curse on me that day. I am not mad at her if she did. I want you, Maeve. I want to help you rebuild your bloodline.”
The Beaumont’s are highly favored for our ability to produce strong boys, and lovely girls.
“We will build our home together so that I can take care of you and watch our strong boys and lovely girls grow up.”
The Prince was promised a Princess who comes with a fortune in gold and land. I listen intently as he opens up to me. His deep voice makes me crave his next words as he speaks of the marriage that was arranged when he was still in the cradle. The Cardinal is uniting the Butchers of Beaumont with the thieves of Hillandale who are known for starving their villains when the yields are low. She is not pretty, he surmises. But she does not have to be. After I gave myself to him, the jealous Prince wanted to know how close I had come to having a man. I told him about a fisherman on the dock who gave me a flower and asked to court me. The flower was a small gesture, but one I will always remember. Not to be outdone, Christian filled my room with flowers from the family gardens the next day.
“I am turning my back on it all for you.”
I smile into his eyes. He is better off with me than riding into strange lands to fight an unknown enemy. Why risk his life and die young like other Beaumont heroes? Why not settle down, raise crop, and make babies? It is hard picturing him tilling a field or mucking out a barn. I cannot picture him walking away from his palace to be with me. However, I cannot picture my life without him.
“Maeve, you are a gift from God. You are truly an angel of mercy sent here to show me the way. The things you speak of make me question my actions when I never did before.” His eyes tear up. “I have done things, Maeve. Things that make me question if I am deserving of you? I am everything that is bad, and you are everything that I want to be. A preserver of life, not a messenger of death. I killed women with children in their arms. What kind of God sends men to kill farmers and hunters who have done them no harm?”
My heart breaks for him when he begins to cry.
