Part 21 (1/2)
He felt her hand pressed on his arm, her touch sad and gentle. She wanted his tenderness. He knew the isolation and the strain his design put upon her and himself. Yet it was what he had to do. He hardened himself further against her. Remorse and misery arose in him, but he answered without a visible sign of either. ”Understand I do not despise you,” he murmured. ”But do not cling to me-it is but a memory and a dream you chase. I cannot bear the burden of you. You must find your way without me.”
She released his arm, and he saw in her face she would make no further effort towards him. ”I shall go away from you.” She could say no more for the very intensity of her feelings. He bent and went away into his tent. For the moment she remained unmoved. She couldn't turn and face the others. She was too much uncovered, much too exposed. She returned to the fire, but her face was averted. She wished to go somewhere hidden from their eyes.
”Never mind him,” said Derek, gathering up his things to retire for the night. ”He's just a hot-blooded wretch and fears he may injure you.” Magenta winced and said nothing. Derek remained seated, holding his half-gathered things as if forgetful of the task. He tried to begin a conversation about the evening, but it died out and there was silence.
”You may have my bed,” Cedrik offered her, at length. ”Someone should keep watch, and I can't sleep.”
”You must be weary with travel,” she said. Her steady gaze faltered. She could scarcely bear to look at him. Her beloved had left her cold and stripped to the heart.
He shrugged bleakly. ”We're from the Imperial; we don't sleep. I'll crash with Derek if the urge to sleep becomes more unbearable than sharing a bed with him.”
”He likes it,” said Derek.
Magenta made a painful effort to smile. The helpless quiet remained unbroken. Night, in which everything seems all the more grim, seemed pressing in on them. The sounds of nature were tense and withheld. Cedrik considered her sympathetically. Her look of misery was shadowed with some form of contempt. An angered hurt was in her eyes, black sorrow and ashes in her heart.
”You mustn't judge him too harshly,” said Cedrik. ”He can be stubborn and not given to showing himself in the best of lights, but he always comes round in the end.”
”You needn't defend your cousin,” she said, slowly looking up. If not for the softened expression her tone might have been taken for anger. Magenta did not love him the less but began to doubt his heart. Yet in her own she found it difficult to believe he was truly lost to her.
Where Deacon lay he could hear their voices clearly enough to apprehend everything spoken. He waited on all her words, his throat tight, as if he dreaded their persisted consoling might draw from her details of misery he could not bear to hear. He rolled over to lie on his stomach, pressing himself into the bed in anger and torment, feeling sick at heart. He had sought to convince her he no longer loved her and succeeded so far that she resolved to part with him at first chance. If he loved her, he would prevent her from leaving. Having arrived at this hurtful resolution, she said to Cedrik, ”At the first city we come upon, I shall part with you. Until then I hope not to prove a burden.”
She thought of Deacon as she spoke this and felt a hot, tight spot in her breast. Had he not been concealed from view she would have seen what violent effect her words produced. Deacon lay in utter agony. He waited and nothing more was spoken. All became very quiet. For the moment his misery was greater than his anger. He had denied himself of her and felt the worse for it. He would have liked to have held her while he slept.
Chapter34.
To Sandrine -eaconwas not pleased to discover Magenta had chosen to break from Cedrik and go her own way but could say nothing about the matter. Regretfully, Deacon told her Sandrine was the nearest city, and should she wish it still, she could stop there. It was a charming, quiet place only slightly off their course, though it would still take many days to get there, even if they rode hard.
In the afternoon they lunched by a pretty stream. Derek took a hot potato from the coals and tossed it deftly in his hand before quickly dropping it on the plate, which he had heaped with salted meats, bread, and cheese. He joined Magenta further down by the stream. Through a mouthful of food, he offered to share with her. Often he made her smile and entertained her. He was sweet and kind. He did not fear to touch her.
For the remainder of their break, while they refreshed the horses and took time to rest, Derek and Magenta kept in one another's company near the water's edge. To Derek's way of thinking she was becoming more and more a perfect creature. He could not regard her unawed. She was so still and so beautiful.
Deacon and Cedrik were sitting near the horses, watching the other two in their exchanges. Deacon affected a manner of indifference that it was plain he did not feel.
”So you are to wander about aimlessly?” asked Cedrik, ”with no thought or reason as to where you might go?”
”A course will present itself soon enough,” Deacon replied.
”It's unlike you to choose the path of a vagabond, drifting without thought of consequences.”
”What else am I to do? Return to the Imperial and be condemned to society I care nothing for? With the elves, what is there for me?”
”You have family waiting at both.”
Deacon sniffed with stubborn disinterest, looking down.
”Then you condemn yourself to loneliness?”
”That's not my intention.”
”What is your intention?”
Deacon set his jaw and without looking up, said slowly, ”You have two choices; you may follow me to wherever I happen to go, or you may return home. Do not question me further about what isn't your concern.”
”You are my concern,” Cedrik said hotly.
The other two returned and ended the conversation. They packed up and were ready to leave. Cedrik a.s.sisted Magenta onto his horse. When she was settled in the saddle, he hauled himself up behind her. He grasped the reins, and with a swift kick they jolted off at a steady pace. The other two followed after.
They travelled in this fas.h.i.+on for several hours. Deacon rode in utter silence. His stomach held a twisting, grinding anger. He occasionally stole a glance at Cedrik's hand round Magenta's waist and would feel a swift pang of misery. After a time he could see that Cedrik, with the added burden of holding another person, was growing weary, though he would not mention it.
”The night will soon be closing in,” said Deacon, drawing rein and dismounting. ”We can lie here tonight.”
Deacon and Magenta spoke not a word. After a time Cedrik said that he had seen a pretty little rock pool down in among the trees. She might like to go and bathe while they set up camp. This she did, grateful to be alone for a time. The water was slightly cool on her flesh, but it was a pleasure to stand so quiet and to let the water come over her shoulders. To bathe in a pool was strange and primitive, but beautiful.
Derek lay unemployed while Deacon and Cedrik set up the tents. ”She has been a while,” he said, restlessly. ”Perhaps I should go check on her.”
”Perhaps you should get off your hide and help us,” said Cedrik.
Pressing his head back, Derek sighed, his mind still playing with pleasant and indulgent thoughts. His leg swayed back and forth. His hands were clasped on his stomach. ”Ah, she's like a princess. The way she moves-have you ever seen such unaffected regality? I'll bet she takes good care of herself. All proper and ladylike.”
Cedrik said, ”Make yourself useful and get a fire started.”
Derek rolled up onto his feet. Conversation led by him turned quickly again to the absent woman. Cedrik and Deacon suffered through his appraisal of her in silence. He spoke as if she were not of this world, not real to him, but as if she, a fragile, beautiful thing, was from a dream. Deacon worked without lifting his face. His hands moved with quick, jarring movements as he tied down and secured the tent. He found it difficult to disguise his annoyance.
”It will be sad to part with her,” said Derek. ”Perhaps we can convince her to remain with us for a time longer.”
When Cedrik saw no effort was put forth to start a fire, he said, ”Now would be better than later!”
”All right, I'm on it.” Quiet for several minutes while engaged in his task, Derek took great care to make a neat ring of rocks around some fire wood. When he was done, he stood clicking his fingers over it, indicating Deacon should set it alight. The latter rose slowly to his feet, dropping what he was doing, and with a look of derisive contempt, set the fire ablaze with flaring violence.
”Easy!” said Derek, leaning back and s.h.i.+elding his face. Presently the flame settled and was softly snapping. Derek sat down with a drink in his hand, content to talk about Magenta. Cedrik made several failed attempts to change the subject, noticing that Deacon became increasingly riled, but despite his best efforts he found it impossible to redirect the conversation. With an impatience amounting almost to anger, Deacon clenched his fist, an action that caused Derek to crush his pewter cup, the contents spilling over his pants. He started to his feet to avoid the spray of liquid.
”Curse it all! What is wrong with you?” he said, wiping the wetness from his trousers.
”You talk too much,” said Deacon. His head was bent forward, watching the pan he heated over the fire. He had just thrown tea into the boiling water.
”Why should I hide my regard?” said Derek, with sudden anger, instead of the indignant whine he would usually have favoured. He tossed the empty cup at his feet and went away from them. Deacon appeared undisturbed. He shook his head and set to preparing the evening meal.
The hissing of frying meat could be heard by Magenta as she returned. The brothers were not to be seen. Deacon was cooking something, crouching over the campfire. She saw that from behind he was very handsome, with a strong, broad back. The nape of his neck was tanned and smooth. She watched the firm setting of his shoulders move beneath his s.h.i.+rt as he leaned forward.
Derek came ducking out from his tent when he saw her just outside. ”You've returned from the water looking very beautiful,” he said. She smiled and returned the brush and soap to Cedrik's bag. She had pinned her hair so as not to get it wet. ”Was it very cold?” he asked.
”Not very cold,” she answered.
He watched entranced as she removed the pins and let her hair fall free. ”You're chilled right through,” he said. ”You should have waited till morning. See, you're s.h.i.+vering. Don't deny it. Come sit by the fire. You'll be warm again.”