She touched him, too, her boldness growing in
response to his evident enjoyment of what she was doing. The
tension building between them increased until it threatened to
destroy them before they were ready for it to end. As a moist,
aching heat spread throughout Danise’s body, she began to writhe
under his caressing hands.
“Danise, my love.” Michel rose above her, his
eyes locked on hers. Her breasts felt hot and heavy, her thighs
trembled and fell apart without her willing it. Even her fingertips
tingled.
“In all the world,” Michel whispered,
“through all time to the very end of eternity, you are the only one
I love.”
“Michel, I want – I need – oh, please!” She
saw in his eyes that he understood her desperate plea, for it
matched his own need. He delayed no longer, but pushed hard against
her. Danise opened to him, taking him deep inside her in one sweet,
moist rush.
“Danise, Danise.” Michel’s voice in her ear
was harsh and strained with his effort at self-control. But why
should he exert control any longer, when she could not?
“Michel, I love – love – “ She broke off,
unable to speak with ecstasy overtaking her.
She knew Michel was moving hard in her, knew
she moved in response to him, but there was no more thought in what
she did, there was only the desire to be as close to him as she
possibly could, to be one with him and never be separated again. A
strangled cry tore from her throat. She heard Michel groan and
sensed that he had stopped his stroking motions at the point where
he was pressed so tightly into her that his presence was almost
painful. Danise stopped moving, too, stopped breathing, believed
her very heart had stopped beating. For a long, tense moment she
and Michel clung together, straining against each other until, in a
devastating burst of emotional and physical joy, Danise’s fervent
wish was granted. In that instant she and Michel were made one,
were bound together beyond all breaking asunder, were truly and for
all eternity made one flesh, one heart – were, finally and
irrevocably, married.
* * *
Long after the tremors stopped, after her
sobs of release had ended, Michel held her, stroking her tangled
hair and kissing her brow. At last he tilted her chin upward and
she saw that he was smiling at her.
“I love you,” he said, repeating the words he
had used over and over again during the past hour. “After what just
happened, those words seem inadequate, but I can’t think of any
others to use.”
“They are enough,” she sighed. “They are the
best words to use when one has been moved beyond the most distant
spheres of heaven and then returned safely to earth once more.”
Happy tears choked her. She could not speak
again, she could only curl into the safety of his arms and rest her
head against his shoulder while she silently thanked all the powers
of heaven and earth for bringing them together.
* * *
Two days after Danise and Michel were
married, Sister Gertrude departed Deutz to return to the convent at
Chelles. The leave-taking was a tearful one on Danise’s part. For
all her stern and difficult ways, Sister Gertrude was genuinely
concerned with Danise’s welfare, and Danise knew the nun loved her.
She was a bit surprised, however, to discover Clothilde weeping as
Sister Gertrude made her last farewells at the ferry wharf.
“Clothilde, you are still welcome to go with
me,” Sister Gertrude said, fending off an emotional embrace from
the maidservant.
“I cannot.” Clothilde wiped her streaming
eyes. “My place is with Danise, and you know full well I am not
made for the cloister.”
“Foolish woman.” Sister Gertrude scowled at
Clothilde. “Nevertheless, the doors of Chelles will always be open
to you. Do not forget the place where you will be welcome. Nor you,
Danise. Remember what I have said to you on the subject.”
Danise could not reply. Trying not to break
down and weep aloud, she hugged Sister Gertrude.
“Enough of that,” said the nun in her
sternest voice. Turning from Danise, she spoke again. “Savarec, I
thank you for the donation you are making to Chelles, and for the
men-at-arms you are sending to guard it until we reach the
convent.”
“They are meant to guard you, too,” Savarec
said. “Your friendship is more precious than gold, your value above
that of fine rubies.”
Sister Gertrude actually smiled,
acknowledging Savarec’s paraphrase of a lesson from the Bible.
“I value your friendship, too,” she told him.
“It’s a rare man who has no malice in him, but you are such a man.
Of course, you are not always as wise as you ought to be.”
Savarec took no offense at these last words,
but only smiled and clasped her hand.
“Farewell, Michel.” Sister Gertrude turned
brisk. She swept past Michel to board the ferry.
“I will take good care of Danise,” he
promised her. “I’ll guard her with my life.”
“If you do not, you will answer to me.”
Sister Gertrude stepped onto the ferry unaided, scorning the
helping hands of the men-at-arms who accompanied her. She moved at
once to the far side of the ferry, and there she stood, facing the
western shore, not once looking back, a tall, thin, rigidly erect
figure.
“Where I come from,” Michel murmured, looking
after her, “we’d call her one tough lady. And it would be a
compliment.”
They all remained on the wharf, watching the
ferry move slowly across the Rhine.
“I suppose you will be the next to leave me,”
said Savarec to Danise. He heaved a long, dramatic sigh. “Soon, I
will be all alone here.”
“We can stay for a day or two more,” Michel
responded. “Well see Guntram off to his own estate tomorrow, and
then the next day or the day after, Danise and I will head for
Elhein.”
“And Guntram gone, too, after all these years
with me. I shall truly be alone then.” Savarec looked so forlorn
that Danise laughed, hoping to cheer him up.
“Father, you know perfectly well that I have
seldom been at Deutz since I began school at Chelles,” she reminded
him.
“That’s so. Perhaps my sense of disquiet is
only the result of weariness after a too-exciting Mayfield followed
by the marriage of my only child. I will soon recover, I am sure,
once we at Deutz return to our usual routines.”
Neither Deutz nor its inhabitants were
destined for routine peacefulness, nor were Guntram or Danise and
Michel able to leave for their respective estates as they had
planned. When the ferry that had taken Sister Gertrude to the
opposite side of the Rhine returned to Deutz it was crowded with
men and horses. The ferryman made two more trips across the Rhine
after that first one, and his counterpart who was based at Koln did
the same. On the very last crossing of the ferry, having seen all
his men safely over the river first, came Redmond. The news he
brought was distressing. At least, Danise found it so. The men
seemed to think it was exciting.
“There is new trouble in Saxony,” Redmond
told them, “and Autichar is behind it.”
“I suppose you are going to tell us,” said
Savarec, “that the Saxons are angry about the failure of Autichar’s
plot against Charles. What have those heathen tribesmen done now?
Burned Frankish villages? Raped and slaughtered innocent women and
children? Or have they been murdering Christian missionaries again
as revenge for the end of their wicked scheme?”
“I do believe Charles wishes that isolated
acts of vengeance were all he has to deal with,” said Redmond. “No,
Savarec, the news is worse than you could have imagined. Autichar
was taken to Bavaria by Duke Bernard and there delivered up to Duke
Tassilo, just as Charles ordered. Tassilo said he would keep
Autichar imprisoned while he considered exactly what terrible
punishment to lay on that traitor, but he delayed his decision
until past the time when Duke Bernard was bound to leave Bavaria to
rejoin Charles.”
“Don’t tell me,” Michel put in, “let me guess
what happened next. Once Duke Bernard was back in Francia proper,
Tassilo released Autichar.”
“Not exactly.” Redmond sent his friend an
approving look. “Though I believe you have come close to the truth
of the matter. Tassilo claims that Autichar escaped from his
prison. Autichar is now rumored to be in Saxony, where he is
expected to stir up violence against the Franks.”
“You mean, he was
permitted
to
escape?” exclaimed Savarec. “If this is true, then Tassilo is as
much a traitor to Charles as Autichar is.”
“We may never know the whole truth of it,”
Redmond said. “Tassilo sent word to Charles that he has executed
the guards who let Autichar escape.”
“Of course he’d kill them,” said Michel.
“Dead henchmen can’t talk and implicate their master.”
“That’s what I think, too,” Redmond agreed.
“Tassilo also sent his most profound apologies to Charles, along
with word that he has moved men into Saxony in search of
Autichar.”
“That would be a clever way to cover up troop
movements,” Michel noted.
“No one ever said Tassilo was a fool,”
muttered Savarec. “Cunning, concerned only with his own interests,
consumed with jealous hatred of Charles, a despicable traitor – all
of these things Tassilo is, but he is not stupid enough to
challenge Charles directly unless he is absolutely certain he can
win a contest between them. Redmond, from the story you’ve just
told us, I assume that Charles is sending you into Saxony to add
your men to the troops already there.”
“I am to ask you to add a contingent of your
own men to mine. Here is the order.” Redmond handed Savarec a
rolled parchment containing Charles’s signature as he always wrote
it, in the shape of a cross. “Charles told me to warn you that his
spies report the Saxons are greatly inflamed by the collapse of
Autichar’s plan to rid Saxony of Frankish rule. On their own, in
retaliation against us for Charles’s punishment of Autichar, the
Saxons have begun attacking Frankish settlements not only on the
border but well into Frankish lands. Now, with Autichar on hand to
urge them onward, Charles expects more serious attacks.”
“They will not strike as far west as Deutz,”
Savarec said. “We are too far away. But if they cross the River
Weser, they could attack Paderborn.”
“That’s what we are to prevent,” Redmond told
him. “Since Paderborn is a royal seat, Charles does not want the
Saxons to take it.”
“If they did,” said Michel, “it would be bad
for Frankish morale and for Charles’s reputation.”
“Exactly so.” Redmond nodded. “That is why we
are ordered to stop the Saxons while they are still well east of
Paderborn. Savarec, may I impose upon your hospitality for a night
or two? When Charles summoned me to Aachen, I pushed my men hard to
reach there as quickly as I could, and stayed at Aachen only a few
hours before setting out again to bring the news to you. As a
result, my men and their horses all need to rest. At any rate, you
will require time to prepare your own troops. If we stop here at
Deutz, we can travel together.”
“Of course, Redmond.” That Savarec was
thinking hard could be heard in his abstracted answer. “I am
overstaffed at the moment. Since we are in no serious danger here,
I can spare half my garrison. I’ll leave my lieutenant, Hubert, in
charge. Michel, you may want to send Danise across the river to
Koln, or even on to Elhein while you are away with us.”
When she heard of this plan in the privacy of
the chamber she shared with Michel, Danise objected vigorously to
her father’s continuing parental protectiveness.
“Deutz is perfectly safe,” she said to
Michel. “Saxon uprisings occur all the time, and not in years has
the disorder reached this far from the present border of Francia. I
will not leave, Michel.” She did not ask him to remain with her.
She knew he would have to go with her father and Redmond. For him
to do otherwise would be cowardly, and she did not want anyone to
question Michel’s courage.
“I could order you to go,” he said.
“If you do, I will not obey,” she informed
him. “You or my father may need me here. I will not leave Deutz.
When I see Elhein, it will be with you, or I will not see it at
all.”
“Rebellion in the ranks,” he muttered, but he
did not look annoyed. He caught her hands, pulling them around his
waist with rough tenderness, forcing her to step closer so he could
hold her in his arms. He began to nibble at her bare shoulder. “It
will take me a few minutes to think of an appropriate punishment
for this particular mutiny. Bear with me while I consider the
subject.”
“Your absence from my side will be punishment
enough,” she whispered, her blood warming to the touch of his lips.
“But you will return safely to me. I know it as surely as I know
the sun will rise when morning comes.”
“Do I love you because you are an optimist?”
he asked, gently ravaging her earlobe. “Or is it because you have
such confidence in me?” Swinging her off her feet, he headed toward
their bed.
“You love me because you were meant to love
me,” she murmured. “You could not do anything else.”
“Sweetheart, I love you because you are you.”
He laid her upon the bed and got in beside her. “With all my heart,
for all time … Danise … Danise….”
His hands on her, his mouth and tongue, all
unleashed the passion Danise had come to expect from him, but never
to take for granted.
She knew how precious Michel’s love was. She
reveled in his desire for her, returning it in full measure. They
joined together in a heated rush and she did not think again for a
long time, not until she lay relaxed in his arms, in the sweet
contentment of passion temporarily spent.
“So, you think I couldn’t do anything else
but love you?” he teased. With one finger he traced her lips before
kissing them. “My lady, were you hinting that you won my heart with
a magic potion? You sounded remarkably sure of your power over
me.”