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‘There is no place for compassion in the world you people have created,’ Gerrod snarled.
Constance winced.
Caddoc pressed his fingertips to his temples. He looked to where Wulf lay, his face serene in death. He was younger than Caddoc had been the year of the conquest. He would never reach the age when Caddoc had been whipped and mutilated by this woman’s brother-in-law. He brushed his finger over his lobeless ear. How could he deny Gerrod the revenge he sought when every day the same yearning for vengeance had consumed him for years?
‘Then you?’ Constance said. Her face was white and her eyes wide with terror. Caddoc’s heart thundered with an intensity that was painful. Perhaps she read it on his face because her expression changed, courage flowing into her face.
‘Will you intervene for me? Caddoc.’
A spear of lightning coursed through Caddoc at the inflection with which she spoke his name. Was she threatening him? It sent an unexpected thrill through him. He came closer, masking the admiration he felt. He put a hand on Gerrod’s shoulder.
‘Let me speak to her,’ he asked. ‘I want to know what she thinks she has to bargain with.’
Gerrod moved back to Wulf’s body like a sleepwalker and began cradling it once more. Caddoc crossed his arms, planted his legs apart and faced Constance a pace away from her. She looked away first and his lips twitched into a triumphant smile.
‘These are the men I live with. I owe them my loyalty. Why should I save you?’ he asked.
‘Because I saved your life,’ she reminded him quietly. She raised her head and met his gaze. ‘I won’t insult you by asking for compassion. I can see you don’t possess that, but you owe me a debt. A life for a life. Yours for mine.’
No compassion? It wounded him deeper than he expected, but what room did he have in a life such as his for a thing such as that?
Caddoc ground his teeth. She clearly did not intend to invoke the closeness they had once shared, though she could not have forgotten it. Perhaps it meant so little to her she did not think it worth recalling. He pictured Constance’s body swinging on the scaffold in Hamestan marketplace. Saw the look of anguish on de Coudray’s face as he beheld the corpse of his sister-in-law. The Pig’s cries rang like song in Caddoc’s imagination. Bile filled his throat. He swallowed it down, shutting his eyes in denial of what he had wanted to do. He opened his eyes to find Constance still staring at him.
‘Very well. If they will accept my intervention, my debt is repaid, but that is all I can do for you. Your courage is admirable, but if you insist in provoking trouble I will not protect you further.’
He turned his back on her so he did not have to read the expression on her face.
‘There’s no point in acting rashly. If she is a friend of de Coudray, she may be more use to us alive than dead,’ he said. ‘It’s getting dark and I want to be gone. If things change we can reconsider how we use her, but no one else is dying now.’
Gerrod raised his head. He peered through red-rimmed eyes at Caddoc, then past him at Constance.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she whispered.
Caddoc tensed, waiting for Gerrod to explode. Was the woman determined to die after all? He had always believed her intervention in his execution had been motivated by her feelings for him, but now he wondered if she was simply incapable of keeping quiet when she should know better.
Gerrod sagged like a sack losing its contents.
‘Take her alive if you will,’ he said to Caddoc, and sighed. ‘But anything that happens will be on your head. Let’s be gone from here.’
The men sorted matters quickly. The remaining guard was stripped of his boots, cloak and mail and left blindfold with his hands bound behind him to the bridge.
‘Tell whoever finds you that Caddoc the Fierce sends his regards,’ Caddoc growled.
The cart blocking the bridge was righted and Wulf’s body, wrapped in his father’s cloak, was gently placed in the back alongside the strongbox and panniers. The two other corpses were left beside the path. The monk pleaded and was allowed to speak his prayer over them. Gerrod did not protest when he glanced towards Wulf and allowed the monk to repeat his prayer before securing him alongside the guard.
Through it all Constance had said nothing, but when Caddoc loosened the rope binding her he noticed the tracks in the dirt on her cheeks. They could have been from the water Ulf had thrown on her, but she saw him looking and violently wiped a sleeve across her face.
‘You’ll travel in the cart at first, but soon we’ll be walking,’ he told her.
‘I’ll need my stick,’ she answered, pointing to the staff she had thrown in his path. He retrieved it quickly, noting that while he left her she stood motionless and did not try to run. Good. She was able to take advice when she chose which might be enough to keep her alive.
Ulf led Constance to the cart and lifted her into the back. He bound her wrists together, securing the end of the rope to the rail at the side of the cart, then pulled her cloak around her to hide her bonds from anyone who might pass by.
‘Blindfold her,’ Caddoc instructed.
Constance moaned softly.
‘We can’t let her see where we’re taking her,’ he explained, more for her benefit than Ulf’s. ‘I don’t want any chance of her leading de Coudray to us.’
‘How would she do that?’ Osgood asked. He ripped his dagger through the dead guard’s cloak, tearing off a long, wide strip that he wound tightly around Constance’s eyes. He pulled her hood down across her face and spoke close to her ear.
‘Once she’s there she won’t be leaving.’
Caddoc clenched his fists. He could not contradict Osgood’s words and had no idea what would transpire, but for good or ill the decision was made.
* * *
Constance jolted around in the darkness, feeling sicker with every lurch of the cart. She had lost her sense of direction almost as soon as the cart started moving and now it no longer felt like they were on the road, but she could not be sure. She had tried tallying each time the wheel creaked a full turn, but had lost count, and with it all track of time. It was getting darker, though. The colder air that caressed the lower half of her face told her that the sun must have set.
Bound together her hands could not fully grip hold of the wooden rail and she shifted with each movement.
She wished her hands were free and she could brace herself against the side of the cart.
She wished she had crept away to safety before she had been noticed rather than drawing attention to herself trying to help.
She wished she could not clearly picture the expression on Aelric’s face when she had appealed to him to save her from death.
He had considered letting the big man kill her. She had seen the temptation in his eyes before he had saved her. Aelric, the gentle boy who once had never wielded a sword. If she had not seen the scar Robert had given him she would never have believed the angry-eyed, bearded wild man could be the same person.
The cart stopped abruptly. Someone fumbled with the rope, untying it from the rail, but leaving Constance’s hands bound. He took tight hold of her by her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. She wondered whose hands they were. Not Aelric—or Caddoc, as she supposed she must now think of him—she suspected he would have been gentler. Perhaps not, though. Her first hope on recognising him was that he would prove an ally. Now she was far from sure he was a friend to her at all, but his good grace was all that had kept her alive.
She was lifted from the cart, placed on her feet and turned around. A bottle was put to into her hands. Her unseen captor helped her raise it to her lips and she drank thirstily, not caring what the contents were. It turned out to be beer. The weak, sour-tasting brew she remembered from when she had lived in Cheshire before. She pulled a face.
‘I supposed a fine Norman lady like you would prefer wine.’ The voice she recognised as belonging to Osgood spoke scathingly from somewhere off to her left.
So it had not been him who had dragged her from the cart. She breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his harsh words he had stared at her with open hunger he did not bother to conceal and it made her flesh crawl. She was glad he had not been the one to touch her.
She did not dignify his jibe with an answer, but the idea of a warm cup of wine had never been more appealing. She took another deep swig of beer out of pride before holding the bottle out for someone to take it.
‘Let’s keep going,’ Aelric said. ‘We’re leaving the cart with Osgood and going the rest of the way on foot.’
A hand took hold of her elbow and began to lead her. Constance stiffened instinctively at the unfamiliar touch of a man. Memories of Piteur leading her to his chamber reared up unpleasantly, causing her to gag. She stuck her feet out nervously, not knowing what was in front of her, and took a few shuffling steps. Her foot squelched into a puddle and she pulled it out with a cry of disgust, causing her to lose her balance. The grip on her elbow tightened and a hand rested on her lower back, guiding her onward firmly. She succeeded in taking a few more steps until her foot snagged on something in the undergrowth and she stopped again.
‘You’ll have to walk faster than this,’ Aelric muttered in her ear. ‘The others are already far ahead.’
So it was his hand at her waist. The knowledge sent disconcerting shivers down Constance’s spine.
‘I can’t. I need my stick,’ she said irritably.
‘I’m not giving you something you can use as a weapon,’ Aelric said with a laugh.
‘What do you think I could do blindfold and with my hands bound?’ Constance demanded.
‘I’ll help you,’ Aelric replied.
His arm came around her waist. He held her close to his side and began guiding her, muttering instructions where to place her feet to avoid tangles. For the first time since the ambush she felt oddly safe. Her body relaxed as she leaned against him, but her mind whirled at the contact, sending her back into the past.
The second time they met it had been spring, not many weeks later than it was today. A time after they had settled in Hamestan, but before the thegns rose against her people. A market day filled with rare laughter and music where Constance had believed they were becoming accepted, that they could live in peace alongside each other.
There had been dancing and she’d watched enviously as the girls spun about the circle with their skirts flying, trying to ignore the stares and whispers.
Aelric had been at the centre of the knot, a set of pipes to his lips and his red-blond hair falling into his eyes. He had paused his tune as he spotted her watching and threaded his way through the circle towards her and held out his hand. When she indicated the stick she leaned on his expression hadn’t been one of pity or ridicule like she was used to, but regret. Instead of turning immediately back to the dance he’d taken her hand and bowed, then walked with her through the marketplace, leaving his friends behind.
She’d fallen a little bit in love with him at that moment and now his touch was in danger of awakening something long dormant.
‘Constance! What are you doing?’ Aelric muttered angrily in her ear, bringing her sharply back to the present.
She realised she had stopped walking again. Disconcerted that she had been thinking of such things, she shook herself free of his hold only to find her hair tangling in a low branch. She reached her hands up, flailing around her head.
‘This is too hard,’ she complained. ‘I keep catching my feet and tripping. You’ll have to let me see where I’m going.’
He spoke rapidly in a language she did not understand, but from the tone of the throaty, lyrical words he was swearing.
‘When will you cease trying to push my tolerance? I’ve told you no and I’ve told you why.’
Constance stamped her good foot in frustration.
‘Unless we’re in the centre of Hamestan itself I doubt I’ll recognise where we are,’ she snapped, and then as an afterthought, added: ‘In fact, I probably wouldn’t recognise Hamestan either. I haven’t been there for seven years.’
There was silence, then the cloth was pushed back from her eyes by callused hands. Even dusk seemed bright after the blackness she had been subjected to. She stared around. Aelric need not have feared that she would be able to lead anyone to them. The trees were broad trunked and towered over them with no sign of a pathway and every direction looking identical. They could have been anywhere.
‘Thank you,’ Constance said. She risked a smile, but Aelric remained stern faced. His eyes flickered to the side and she followed his gaze. The two other men were watching them suspiciously. Her stomach clenched as she saw the large man was carrying the body of his son. Unbidden her lip trembled. She held her hands up in front of her and raised an eyebrow at Aelric questioningly.
‘I’ll give you your sight, but your hands will remain bound,’ Aelric said.
‘Why?’ Constance asked. ‘I’m not going to run. I can’t and even if I could your friends would cut me down quick enough.’
She raised her chin and looked at him disdainfully. ‘That would solve your dilemma, wouldn’t it? If I died and it was nothing of your doing, your conscience would be clear!’
Aelric bared his teeth. He reached for the dagger at his waist and she feared she had gone too far, but he cut her bonds. Blood rushed into her hands and she rubbed her wrists vigorously until they stopped stinging.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
Aelric ignored her. He whistled and the older man threw Constance’s stick to him. Aelric pushed it into her hands, nodding curtly. ‘No more delays.’
He held out a hand for her to pass by and she walked in front of him to where the other man beckoned her. Though she had to grit her teeth in determination not to show the discomfort she was in she could not prevent a wave of relief cresting inside her. Aelric had done as she asked. It was a small triumph, but it was a victory nevertheless and for the first time hope stirred inside her.
Chapter Five (#u27bc089d-3a90-5a8e-9de3-d461d29f3a75)
‘When we stop I’m going to blindfold you.’
They had been walking in silence for at least an hour so when Aelric’s voice came, low in her ear, she jumped in surprise.
‘Have I done something to anger you?’ she asked. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the fear of being subjected once more to the helplessness of the dark caused hands of terror to grip her throat. She could think of no way in which she had disobeyed him. She had walked as fast as she was able and had given no indication she was hoping to escape. As they wound their way deeper into the forest she had given up all intention of that. Better to remain a captive than die lost in the woods.
Aelric gave her an appraising look. ‘No, you’ve behaved as I asked, but we’re closer to my camp now and there are landmarks I would rather you didn’t see.’
He walked ahead, leaving her in the charge of the older of his two companions while he joined the huge man who carried the body of his son. As they walked they conferred in low voices, occasionally pausing to look back towards Constance. Once or twice Aelric offered to take the body of the boy, but the father clutched his burden tighter to him.
She glanced surreptitiously from side to side as they walked, not wanting to draw attention to the fact she was doing so. The trees were still as dense, but they had been climbing gently uphill for a while. She did not think they could be close to Hamestan and wondered where they might be that Aelric was worried she could recognise. She had given up the slight hope that she might still have a chance for freedom, but perhaps the information would come in useful in the future.
When they reached a small clearing Aelric returned to her side.
‘Sit down and rest. We’re going to wait here for a while. Gerrod and Ulf are returning ahead of us to take Wulf’s body to his mother.’
‘His mother?’
Aelric frowned. ‘That surprises you?’
She nodded. She had imagined it to be just the five men who had attacked her party. She lowered herself to the ground, leaning back against a tree and stretching her legs out.
‘Rollo, my bodyguard, said the forests were full of wild men but I thought there would be just men,’ Constance said.
‘Your bodyguard was right. There are fugitives and outlaws living all over the country, but there are women and children, too. Families without anywhere else to live.’ He stared at her and his face flushed with anger. ‘Did you think your brother was the only one to take the homes from people? They had to go somewhere.’
‘My brother-in-law.’
Constance spat the correction instinctively, glaring at him. Aelric raised his eyebrow. It was possible that the only thing keeping her alive was Aelric’s belief that Lord de Coudray would care about her safety. She wondered what her brother-in-law would say when he discovered her abduction. What of Jeanne? Surely her sister would beg Robert to act to ensure Constance’s safe return?
‘You say you haven’t been to Hamestan for seven years?’ Aelric said suspiciously. ‘I think you’ll find it much changed.’
‘Have you been here all along?’ Constance asked.
‘No. I come and go. Staying in one place isn’t wise. I’ve been to Wales and Gloucester. Colchester, too. I even saw the coast of France one time.’
Constance felt light-headed. He must have travelled almost past her doorstep to reach Gloucester, not knowing that she lived close by, spending her friendless days in misery.
Homesickness for the land she had left so long ago filled her and she gave a sniff of sadness. Caddoc looked at her strangely, then pulled his hood over his face and sat down beside her in silence until Gerrod and Ulf had vanished among the trees. No birds called in this part of the wood and the wind had stilled.
‘Why aren’t we going with them?’ Constance asked.
‘I want to keep your presence hidden if I can, so I’ll take you into the camp while everyone is distracted,’ Aelric replied. ‘How long do you think you would live if they saw you after seeing his body?’
Constance bit her lip and looked at her hands. If she were in that position, she would want to harm anyone she could hold responsible. She rubbed her leg to try to ease the ache that gripped her bones.
‘Are you in pain?’ Aelric asked unexpectedly.
‘No more than I’m used to,’ Constance replied, indicating her ankle.
