Part 25 (1/2)

He pondered, then asked, ”Why did Lady Alisoun and the d.u.c.h.ess come here? Were you expecting Lady Alisoun?”

”Nay, sir, we were surprised that she would travel so deep into the winter, and the d.u.c.h.ess and her babe arrived already ill.”

”A babe?”

”So they said. I never saw either one of them. My lady feared they had brought contagion to the castle, and she tended them alone, putting only herself at risk. When they died, she prepared the bodies and placed them together in the coffin.”

”Completely alone? No one helped her in any way?”

”No one.”

Sir David walked now in silence until we reached the churchyard. A short wooden fence surrounded all the graves, and the gate creaked when Sir David opened it. At the heart of the cemetery, a smaller rock wall surrounded the family of my lady. I lingered outside the wooden fence until Sir David called, ”This ground is consecrated in the name of our Lord. Suicides and heretics only are buried outside the fence.”

I found myself standing at his side before he'd finished the sentence.

The rising moon caught in the tops of the trees from the nearby forest. The white light it delivered showed an a.s.sortment of gargoyles and saints atop the stones that marked the family's individual graves. In the stark shades of night and moon, the saints leered and the gargoyles hunkered, waiting for unwary prey to pa.s.s. I clung to Sir David's surcoat as he trod the narrow path through the older graves to the place where the visitors were buried.

One of the graves stood open.

If I could have moved, I would have run. When my long legs started pumping, no one could have caught me.

If I could have moved.

As it was, I stood there and stared with mouth gaping wide as Sir David dropped to his knees and peered down into the ground. He grunted. ”Nothing here.” Dusting his hands, he stood and looked around.

I knew what he sought. I even spotted it before he did, but I shut my eyes tight to avoid my duty to inform him. It didn't help. He marched toward the coffin with sure strides and I scampered in his wake, wanting to stay close to him even while I longed to be away from that half-open wooden box.

I thought my prayers had been answered when he halted partway there, but he only handed me his knife and said, ”That madman we discussed might be out there now, so I want you to watch my back.”

My teeth chattered too much to reply.

Sir David moved closer to the coffin, and as he did the moonlight sneaked down the trunks of the trees, creeping ever closer, as if it wanted to illuminate the body within the box. I heard the sc.r.a.pe of wood on wood as he moved the lid completely to the side. The odor of decay wafted to my nostrils. I fixed my gaze on the trees and the area around the churchyard, staring so hard my eyeb.a.l.l.s ached while I wondered if I would disgrace myself and puke from fear and horror.

Sir David was silent for so long I finally glanced at him.

He stood, hands on hips, staring in that coffin as if he'd never seen a decomposing body before, when I knew he'd seen them hanging at every crossroads. Working up my fort.i.tude, I called, ”Sir David? Will we be done soon?”

He didn't answer, and I crept closer. ”Sir David?” He still didn't answer, and I turned to look at him fully. ”Sir David!”

At that moment, the moon lifted above the trees and the full light of it illuminated that thing inside. A rotting pelt of short black hair that covered the whole corpse. A long snout with a mouthful of canine-looking teeth. Four legs that ended with curved claws. And a smaller version of the beast tucked beside its belly.

I dropped the knife, abandoned Sir David and ran as fast as my legs could carry me back to the castle where I huddled by the raised drawbridge until Sir David came and rescued me.

17.

Someone was sneaking through her bedchamber. Someone who wished her ill. Alisoun tried to open her eyes, but could only listen to the whisper of footsteps as they padded along the floor. She tried to move, to call out, but the nightmare gripped her tightly. Somewhere close, something scratched, sounding like a thin blade on a whetstone.

That thing had returned from the grave. She'd meant to go out at first light and cover it with dirt once more, but it was too late. The wolf she'd placed in that coffin even now crept toward her, reanimated by the holy ground in which she'd placed it. She wanted David, but he had abandoned her. She wanted Sir Walter, but he was horribly hurt. She was alone, weak, helpless-and something jumped for her throat.

Sitting up, she screamed and struck out at the intruder, and that misbegotten kitten went flying off the mattress and landed on the floor with an indignant squall.

”Oh, nay!” Alisoun tumbled out of bed and picked up the cat, cradling it close. ”Did I hurt you?”

The kitten sunk its sharp claws into her skin and clung to her. Alisoun petted it, crooning, seeking any injury, and the kitten settled down and purred.

Alisoun wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted everything to be as it was before, when she had control of her life and her destiny. She wanted, for the first time in her life, to deny the consequences of her actions. Stupid actions, when viewed in retrospect, but even now she saw no other course. She had to help her friend, she had to hire Sir David, she had to welcome him into her bed.... She sighed. Well, nay, she hadn't had to welcome him into her bed, but she knew without a doubt that when she was old, she would remember his intrusion into her safe world as the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The scratching noise started again.

Alisoun froze, then lifted her head and peered around.

David sat at the table, candle at his elbow, writing. She readily identified the scratching noise now; it was the sound of a sharpened point on parchment. But what was this all about? And why was he ignoring her?

”David?”

He lifted his head and fixed her in his gaze. ”Alisoun.”

Her father used to look at her almost that way when he was trying to make her cry about her shortcomings. But David's demeanor shouted genuine disappointment in her. Self-consciously, she rose and slid back in bed, holding the kitten as if it were her one true friend. Subsiding under the covers, she asked, ”What are you writing?”

”I'm drafting our marriage contract.” He flicked bits of dirt off his sleeve with the feather. ”How often must I agree to bathe before you will sign it?”

She couldn't think of an answer. She couldn't think of anything. ”I...had never considered that matter something to be included within the solemn doc.u.ment of a marriage contract.”

”I would have no more surprises in our alliance.” Without a smile to lighten his manner, he suggested, ”I have always thought once a year to be sufficient in the normal scheme of life. However, I suspect that will not be sufficient for you.”

”Ah...nay.”

”Twice a year.”

Why were they talking about bathing? ”Once a month?”

Picking up his knife, he sc.r.a.ped at the parchment. ”Once a month it is.”

Silence settled on them, the kind of silence that stifles speech at its source. He bent his full concentration to the writing and she bent her full concentration to the kitten.

It frolicked on top of the covers, and when Alisoun moved her foot, it jumped as if the movements of the wayward foot challenged its supremacy. Alisoun moved again; the kitten growled and leaped. Alisoun couldn't help laughing, then she glanced guiltily at David. He watched the kitten's antics with a half-smile, and she relaxed. If he could smile at the kitten, she could speak to him without fear of retribution, although he'd never in any way threatened her. She didn't know why she worried now. Looking at him more closely, she announced, ”You'll need to bathe sooner than I antic.i.p.ated. You're dirty.”

He looked at his grubby fingernails. ”I went out.”

”At this time of the night? Where did you-” Then it struck her. She knew why he looked so grim. She knew where he'd gone.

”I've been paying my respects to the dead.”

Gooseflesh covered her at his cold tones and flat gaze. ”Did you see it?”

”I reburied it.”