Mordraud, Book One (30 page)

She imagined that it was Mordraud on top of her, still dirty with the blood of the man who
’d tried to rape her. Not the boy who ran about and waved his arms in the courtyard, but a real, mature and impassioned man. Every day that went by, dream and reality merged ever more. Mordraud was growing before her eyes.

It might have been the training sessions he endured every day, come rain or shine. She couldn
’t tell, and she didn’t want to think on it too much either. She was terribly embarrassed by the idea of the dream shifting to reality.

She
’d been so ashamed the first times that she even felt ill. How could she get excited over a boy?! She cared about him, he was a friend who’d helped her bear the slow and harrowing passing of the days, but she never imagined she’d feel attracted to him. Not before that night that summer, at least. That event really shook everything up.

She was on the ground, with her torn dress falling in tatters between her legs. He was battling to save her, fighting with a beast
’s ferocity. He hadn’t hesitated in killing for her. He was even ready to die to protect her. She couldn’t forget the scene, and the more she tried to close it out, the more she felt her blood run hot and pump in her veins. Adraman became Mordraud, every time. She wasn’t actually making love to her husband but to his distorted image.

Mordraud had changed too after that summer spent together in the country. His voice and the way he spoke had altered. If before he
’d already shown more maturity than his years, after that night the difference had become more noticeable. Mordraud
was
older than the age he showed. She was now sure of it.

“
I don’t know Deanna. What questions you ask! He must be around thirteen or fourteen, you can see that... He’s only a boy...” Larois had said to her once, when she’d paid a visit to see how Mordraud was behaving.

“
But he doesn’t seem that age at all when he talks. You should hear him! And he keeps an eye on me, he worries about me, and listens to me... He understands when I’m troubled. Instead at his age he should be desperate to go and run around and play with kids of his own age.”

What had seemed strange at the time had become accepted as the way he was. And not just for the bravery
he’d shown during that night attack.

‘
Children don’t consider the dangers – they hurl themselves at things without thinking... Fear pushes them to act foolishly,’ she mused, closing the book lying pointlessly on her lap. It wasn’t only bravery. Mordraud had shown a startling cold-bloodedness.

‘
He took that knife without hesitating. He groped for it at the bandit’s side, sure he’d find it there. And instead of quivering, he slit that bastard’s throat with a steady and decisive hand. He wasn’t scared of killing a man.’

Deanna could no longer s
ee him as a boy. Not even on the long afternoons they spent together reading or chatting over a herbal tea. His face was veiled by how she pictured it in her dreams. His eyes seemed ready to change into a man’s gaze at any moment.

‘
For love of the Gods, there must be something wrong with me...! Can I really be daydreaming about screwing a boy?!’

She could repeat it to herself countless times, reiterate the idea like a chorus, but it was no good. Deanna was
still peering down into the yard, but she failed to find Mordraud. She waited a moment, and when she was about to give up, she spotted him coming out of a door at the back.

With a tub for washing clothes.

‘That’s enough now. I can’t spy on him, not while he...’

Mordraud filled it with water from the well, grabbed a piece of bluish soap from the laundry room, and began undressing.

‘He doesn’t even suspect that corner of the courtyard can be seen from this window. He isn’t visible from the street, nor from the other windows. If he lifts his eyes, he can’t see me...’

She
’d never seen him naked. Deanna reddened until she felt her face burn, and she tried to avert her eyes. But she couldn’t.

‘
Come on, stop it! I’m going to get up now and go.’

Mordraud got into the tub with his back to her and started wetting his shoulders and torso, rubbing himself energetically with the soap. His skin was soon covered by a light white lather.

‘Where was he hiding all those muscles?! He’s taller than me now and – OH, FOR LOVE OF THE GODS!’

Deanna clapped her hand over her mouth and pulled back, covering herself with the curtains.

‘Has he heard me?!’

She peeped out again and gazed down. Mordraud was
glancing up towards her window. His teeth were biting the lace he usually tied his hair back with before coming down to the table to eat. But not always. Only when...

‘
Adraman’s home for lunch today! Oh damn... If he catches me spying on Mordraud, I’m done for! And I haven’t got myself ready yet either!’

Deanna leapt up and ran out of the room, not without one last look at Mordraud, standing up in the tub.

A long careful look.

***

‘If you can’t free yourself from my grip, then you’re not ready to fight.’

Ho
w many times had he repeated that very same sentence, Adraman wondered. He smiled while trying to remember. He’d lost count. Each time he returned from the front, those were the first words he heard. Even before he’d slipped his cape off.

Mordraud would be waiting for him in the entrance hall, alone. Adraman had no time to make himself at home before he stretched out his hand, in his mute request for a new attempt. He
’d never managed it. It all lasted a few brief moments of silence, broken only by the sentence. It wasn’t strength he lacked. He even had too much. But he was impulsive – he didn’t know how to use it.

“
If you can’t free yourself from my grip, then you’re not ready to fight.”

Deanna knew
nothing of this, and no servant had ever witnessed their little rite. Adraman wasn’t a man prone to tarnishing his word. As long as Mordraud insisted on trying, he’d allow him to. He’d never actually considered that he’d manage it sooner or later. After all, he was but a boy. He told himself that he’d change his mind with time. Like all youngsters.

However, Mordraud showed no signs of giving up. How long was it since he
’d made his promise? Adraman counted the seasons while he tied the horse up near the stables. “Two years, more or less. That summer we were still bogged down near the Hann front. Last year we lost it, and now we’ve managed to get it back... Yes, two years.”

It was a flaw of his. Adraman only managed to keep track of passing
time by basing himself on the war’s events. Thus a spring became
the battle of the oak
, a past winter was merely
the building of the new Rampart branch
, and so on, right back to the start of the war. The only event that had managed to override a victory or a defeat in his mind was his wedding to Deanna.

‘
She was little more than a child... I should have waited and turned down her father’s offer. But if I’d waited, she’d never have accepted me of her own free will. We wouldn’t have married...’

Would that have been good o
r bad? As skilled as Adraman might be at making decisions that saved or condemned whole platoons of soldiers, the dilemmas of his private life remained just that. The methods he used in helming a difficult ten-year war seemed ridiculously simple alongside the complexity of a marriage.

‘
But things are better now. If everything could stay as it is now...’

Deanna had changed
enormously, so much so that he almost no longer recognised her. They still argued, and weeks would go by without even as much as brushing against each other, but these were trifles compared to the past. His wife was yielding with more enthusiasm at last, showing him a passion she’d never revealed to him before. Adraman was once again happy at the idea of returning home.

“
A true blessing...” he mumbled, opening the door. Mordraud was there, ready and waiting.

Adraman lifted his hand and made to squeeze the impertinent boy in his steely vice. Mordraud planted his feet firmly on the ground, took his hand and began tugging.

“Welcome back, dear.”

Mordraud leapt away like a wound-up spring, and Adraman went back to undoing the knot on his cape. The rite had been violated.

“Thank you, darling. Would you tell the staff to prepare the lunch?”

Deanna came downstairs and hugged him. Mordraud hung back, standing straight and gazing humbly at the floor.
“I’ve already informed them. Everything’s ready and on the table.”

“
Oh, thanks Mordraud!” Deanna moved closer, brushing his shoulder lightly. “I was upstairs reading... I lost track of the time.”

Adraman contemplated the scene, fascinated by a new detail. Something he
’d never noticed before – and only at that moment did it all become clear. He spent too much time away from home, he told himself, bitterly. Each time he returned, it was as if he had to get used to lots of little things all over again.

Mordraud had stiffened at Deanna
’s touch. She had thanked him with a sort of caress. Behaviour that would have been natural when he was still a page-boy, a child serving a lady of rank.

Mordraud was taller than his wife now. And he showed the first signs of a beard. He was clean, neat and well-dressed.

Not only was he no longer a child, he was a boy just a step away from becoming a man – and a rather handsome one at that.

Adraman felt a strange convulsion rise from his stomach.

***

“
The hare’s excellent, don’t you think, dear?”

Adraman nodded, forcing an unconvincing smile. The food tasted like boiled hide. The wine like stagnant water. The bread like a block of dried mud.

“Try the potatoes too, they’re delicious. Adrina baked them just the way you like them, under the hot cinders in the fire.”

“
Thank you... afterwards perhaps...”

How hadn
’t he thought of it? Sooner or later Mordraud was going to grow up, but he’d expected it to be further away in time. Instead, that shy boy had taken the rough shape of a man in little over two years. How was it possible? He couldn’t understand such a strange thing. ‘Perhaps he was so set on beating me that his will also defeated time... But what nonsense,’ he reflected, skewering a well-cooked piece of rabbit leg. His favourite dish. His stomach went on shuddering, and rejected any morsel of food.

A storm of doubts buffeted in his mind, threatening to drive him off-course. Deanna had been acting differently towards him for some time, but why? Were the pair having an affair, and she felt guilty? Even if he was still immature, had Mordraud dared seduce his wife?

‘I must stop! What’s got into me?!’

“
Sorry darling, but I’m already full. I think I’ll have a bath now, you know, after my journey...”

“
Won’t you wait until after lunch?” she asked, frowning. “It’s not like you.”

“
No... You see, I feel a little unwell. Maybe something I ate yesterday has... umm... upset my stomach.”

Deanna didn
’t reply and sent Mordraud to call the servants. “The table is to be cleared and a bath needs preparing for the master.”

“
I’ll see to the bath,” answered Mordraud.

Adraman left the table, apologising
again to Deanna. Mordraud’s intent was clear. Their rite had only been put off to a more convenient moment. He reached his bedroom walking at a good pace, and slumped down in the armchair, striving to recover at least a little composure.

“
What’s happening to me?! I have to stay calm. This is not a cavalry charge... I’ve only just noticed, but it might simply be my imagination... I’m away from home for too long. And when I come back, I see things differently...”

And if he were wrong, he mull
ed over, with a grim expression on his face. Might it just be a misunderstanding?

In the end, when he heard a knock at the door, he
’d reached a decision.

“
Come in.”

Mordraud went in, dragging a wooden tub already half-full of hot water.
‘You’re in quite a hurry, my boy... I never bathe in my room. So you want to be alone with me, do you?’ he thought, irked. ‘It’s no longer a game, or some silly rite...’

Mordraud locked the door and left the tub in the middle of the room. With a resolute
expression, he stood before Adraman and stretched out his hand.

‘
He’ll be tall enough to look me level in the eye in a few months...’ the captain observed, accepting the challenge. He drew towards his chest with all his might, and Mordraud hunched his shoulders at once and contended to withstand him.

He could call Larois and explain his unease. Mordraud would disappear from the house before the morning. But he
’d still be in Eld, near her.