Elaine Barbieri (8 page)

“That was the fear I dared not voice to the baron.”

“I will voice it for you.”

“Nay, that would not be wise.”

Rosamund replied with a dark frown, “For the second time today I am accused of not being wise.”

“Although I bear no witness to the first, I say now that the wiser course would be to survey the work that has already been done and to formulate a plan to combat the deficiencies before citing them to the baron.”

An unexpected voice from behind declared arrogantly, “Before declaring what to me?”

Jumping with a start, Rosamund turned toward the tall, frowning baron as he appeared behind her. She realized that Hadley’s failing eyesight had not allowed him to recognize the baron’s figure as he approached.

Momentarily at a loss for words, Hadley did not respond. Aware of his temporary lapse, Rosamund drew herself to her feet and said boldly, “Hadley’s conclusions are yet uncertain. His experience is renowned, but age has limited the keenness of his sight and he wishes to have me confirm his observations before he declares them to you.”

His jaw tightening, the baron repeated, “Before declaring
what
to me?”

“Before citing the viability of the structures the former master mason began constructing.”

The baron looked at Rosamund and replied incredulously. “Are you saying that there is some uncertainty as to the safety of the work that has already been done?”

Rosamund raised her chin a notch higher as she replied, “That is what I am saying.”

His expression thunderous, the baron exclaimed, “How much longer must I wait for your firm conclusions?”

“That is uncertain. A few days…maybe more.”

“Because you are otherwise engaged in your hut?”

“Because it will take that much time to dig and mea sure, and to do all the things that the former master mason did not.”

Aware that Hadley remained silent, Rosamund did not look in his direction. Instead she continued, “Hadley has done his calculations. It is now time for me to do mine.”

“An unnecessary lapse of time that I will not tolerate,” the baron thundered again.

“Would you rather that the walls of this great edifice crumble as you pray, or that the poorly supported roof comes tumbling down upon those whom you wish to impress? If that is so, Hadley and I will proceed more quickly.”

“You try my patience, boy!” The baron stared at Rosamund heatedly. He grumbled, “I had intended a far different outcome for this day.”

Rosamund responded, “As did I, since my patient has not fully recovered.”

“Your patient again!” De Silva flushed. “Who is he, anyway? I know nothing about him except that he was beaten to within an inch of his life.”

“His name is Dagan Waterford. His original residence was in Horstede, but he is presently a wanderer who finds work where he may since that place has never truly recovered from its decimation at the time of William’s invasion.”

“But he survived. Strange, is it not, since so many others fell?”

“Which elevates his importance as a common man in this fief.”

“The fellow’s condition is of no consequence when greater matters lie in question.”

“There is nothing of greater importance than a man’s life!”

The baron took a bold step closer as he said, “His
death
would be of equal importance if my patience is tried.”

Refusing to cower at his statement, Rosamund
replied arrogantly, “His death would be more detrimental to your project here than you know.”

Momentarily silent as his color heightened, the baron asked slowly, “Am I to understand that you threaten me?”

“Nay. I merely state that the laborers here have come to view Dagan as a symbol of all they have borne from the time of William’s conquest. His recuperation represents a survival that they had almost surrendered. It also represents the completion of this project you envision. If he were not to survive, they would lose hope, and a man without hope has less to offer because he is far less than he could be.”

“You threaten me in a way that leaves me no choice but to conform to your way of thinking if I am not to chance a greater delay in my project than I anticipated.” The baron paused. His dark eyes scrutinized Rosamund’s face as he said, “If your words were spoken by another, I would doubtless smite him on the spot. Yet when those words are spoken by you, I find myself admiring your pluck.”

Rosamund’s lips twitched as she replied with an attempt to disguise her disgust, “It would be better if you admired my truthfulness, for that is what I intended.”

“Yea…” Again the baron paused before adding, “But I intend so much more.”

Rosamund moved back and shook off de Silva’s hand as he placed it on her shoulder. Stepping to the fore, Hadley stated flatly, “The foundation needs to be carefully scrutinized if we are to guarantee that this cathedral will stand into perpetuity. Work of that magnitude takes time.”

“Perpetuity be damned!” The baron’s gaze was suddenly hot with anger. “I want this work done and done well! I need no guarantee that it will last forever.”

“You need a guarantee that it will stand to support your hope for redemption—is that not what you originally declared?”

“Yea…” The baron glanced at Rosamund, although it was Hadley who had asked the question. “That is what I said…although another far more personal pressure weighs on me.”

“Perhaps it is time, then, for appropriate self-denial.”

Turning on Hadley, the baron suddenly raged, “Do you presume to instruct me on what I should do?”

“I make no such presumption, my lord.” His failing gaze wavering, Hadley replied, “I say only what may be needed in order for you to realize the dream you intended for this project.”

The baron’s chest heaved with anger. Pausing for long moments, he directed his next comments to Rosamund.

“I would have you do the work that is necessary for you here—before you tend to your patient. I would have you put him to work on this project as soon as the lout is able—at rough labor if he has no skills. But most importantly, I would have you prepare a report with Hadley of exactly how you expect to proceed…so that I may anticipate your progress and the time it will take to achieve your goal. I would have you present it to me personally. Since Hadley values your opinion so greatly and since you presume to speak for him without fear of reprisal, I would have you deliver it to
me without Hadley’s presence. I would come to know you better. In this way I hope to become more comfortable with the idiosyncrasies of the Saxon nature…since I admit that your ways are enigmas that I nonetheless find…
stimulating
.” The baron prompted tightly, “Are we agreed?”

When Rosamund paused before replying, he added, “I warn you to consider your response well, for your future and the future of many others depend on it.”

Hadley responded stiffly in Rosamund’s stead. “We will prepare a report for you as you wish, and follow through to the best of our knowledge.”

“I did not ask you, old man!” Taking a moment to glare at Hadley, the baron turned back to Rosamund to say with forced sweetness, “I would hear your reply.”

Noting Hadley’s restless movement when her chin rose in automatic response to the baron’s veiled command, Rosamund forced back her temper to reply, “Hadley’s word is my law.”

“Nay, that is incorrect!
My
word is your law.”

Rosamund’s lips cracked into a tight smile as she responded, “
Your
word is the law of this shire, my lord.
Hadley’s
word is the law to which my heart responds.”

“A heart that will continue beating only if I deign it to be so.”

“A heart that will continue beating only if the God to whom we all pray so chooses…that is, unless you consider yourself above
Him
.”

The baron took a spontaneous step back at Rosamund’s unexpected response. Unwilling to challenge
her statement, he paused and then said flatly, “I will await your report.”

Rosamund did not realize that she was trembling until the baron thundered off.

“You challenge him too greatly. You will exhaust his patience soon if you do not take care.”

Hadley faced Rosamund in the privacy of the hut, where they had returned after the day’s work. Light was waning after the endless toil that the project demanded, but Hadley waited only until the door was closed behind them to address her. He ignored the wounded man who lay silent on the mattress a distance away as he awaited her reply.

Rosamund’s face twisted with disgust as she replied, “The baron is a fool controlled by his own lust! I will not tolerate his words without a response of my own.”

“His outspoken advances anger me as well. I promise you that I will not allow them to come to fruition.”

“You need not defend me, Father. I am grown and can handle one such as he.”

“You have no experience with such a one. He is an aberration…a ruthless puppet of a conqueror who delights in abusing the conquered…a man whose interests lie only in himself, with no thought of the expense to others.”

“He is a man who breathes…and who will bleed if struck.”

“He is also a well-protected man who is skilled at killing. Much brave talk of insurrection has been
quelled in the depths of his dungeons. I would not have you chance such a future.”

“You need not concern yourself that I would chance it, either, Father. I would take steps to avoid such a circumstance.”

“And what would those steps be?” Hadley approached Rosamund falteringly. “I would ask you to be cautious, for my sake as well as for your own. I am not the man I once was.”

“I am such a man.”

The voice that echoed in the hut behind them was deep and strong. Turning toward her formerly silent patient as he drew himself to a seated position on his mattress, Rosamund assessed Dagan boldly before replying, “You may be such a man, but you are not well and presently are not equal to the task you set for yourself.”

“I am well enough.”

Rosamund remained silent. She had come back to the hut briefly at the time of the midday meal. Dagan had been sleeping, and she had left a bowl of pottage and a cup of broth beside him for easy access. Believing him asleep, she had barely looked at him upon returning with Hadley moments previously—although she realized as he spoke that he was fully clothed. Further critical scrutiny revealed that the swelling of his features had declined to a surprising degree, and that the visible bruises on his body had begun yellowing. It occurred to her that he grew handsomer as the swelling waned.

Rosamund shook off that thought with the knowledge that being handsome did not make him any stronger.

“You say that I am not yet equal to what ever would
be needed to combat the baron’s designs. Yet you refuse to face the reality that you are not equal to that effort, either,” Dagan insisted.

Rosamund countered, “I am equal to any effort. Have I not snatched you from the edge of death with my ministrations? Have I not protected you from the baron although he would have thrown you away like common trash? Do I not still protect you with carefully calculated responses to that despicable man—replies that carry the weight of a blow?”

Dagan raised his battered brow. “I do not know…do you?”

“Yea, I do!”

“Then my reason for protecting you from him can only be greater than before.”

Rosamund’s eyes narrowed as Dagan stood up, revealing to her for the first time the full extent of his great size. She replied resolutely, “Perhaps that would be true if you were well, but you have not yet fully recovered.”

Dagan sat abruptly as an apparent wave of dizziness struck him. He frowned as he admitted, “Possibly you are correct. I may need a few more days to regain the strength I have lost.”

“A few more days…” Rosamund’s response was mocking.

Adamant, Dagan responded, “A few more days…no longer.”

Hadley remained silent as Rosamund replied, “You will be ready to handle the heavy work that the baron intends for you in a few more days? I think not.”

“I will not labor at the baron’s command.”

“The baron intends to see your back bent along
with others who work at his site. He allows you to live only for that reason.”

Dagan repeated, “I tell you now, I will not labor for him.”

“Pride, is that it?” Rosamund shook her head. “Every Saxon in this shire has compromised his pride in one way or another in order to survive. You are no different.”

“Yea, I am.”

“Are you?” Rosamund took a few steps closer. She scrutinized her patient more closely and saw that despite his battered state, he would not back down. She replied unexpectedly, “Perhaps you are different. Perhaps you will never allow yourself to submit to the baron’s demands, no matter the cost to you. But if the cost were to another…would you be as adamant?”

“To another?”

“To
me
, for I have guaranteed the baron your presence at his construction site, knowing that he would allow you to survive for only that reason.”

“You spoke for me?”

“Yea…when you were unable to speak for yourself.”

Dagan eyed her coldly. Rosamund saw the anger that tightened his features. She bore his amber-eyed stare until he said abruptly, “The answer to your question is that I would not see you suffer the cost of my refusal to work for the baron. But neither will I suffer seeing him force himself on you.”

“I would not allow that to happen.”

Dagan replied in a voice that was almost a growl, “Nor would I.”

Rosamund released a shuddering breath at his response. She raised her chin and said, “It is agreed, then. You will accompany me to the work grounds when you are well.”

“In a few more days.”

“When you are…
well
.”

Dagan looked at her without replying and Rosamund turned away abruptly to see Hadley staring at them. Frowning, she inquired, “Does that not meet with your approval, Father?”

Avoiding a reply, Hadley instructed, “Stoke the fire beneath the cauldron and I will gather herbs that will lend a different flavor to the pottage.”

“Herbs…”

“The herb garden that a few of the workers planted when construction began is not far from here. I have been told that I am welcome to its produce, and I can find it easily.”