Retribution (32 page)

The grooms had our horses saddled and
waiting. Normally we would mount in the yard, but with the dreary
weather it was easier for us women to get settled in the saddle
while we were dry, fastening the hooded cloak over head and
shoulders before venturing into the wet. Dominic and the men would
mount quickly after the women were ready.

Isobel went up first while I held Val’s hand.
She would have to strap on the carrying pack before getting Val
secured. Katrina and Naomi stood waiting their turns. Jana had
already scrambled onto Topaz’s broad back and was fiddling with the
stirrups. She had grown again; the stirrups were too short. It was
time to find her a larger animal. I motioned to a groom to help her
adjust the straps.

Val broke away from me, screaming with fear.
“
Noooo!
” The high screech assaulted our ears in the airy,
vaulted building, reverberating off the walls like the echolocation
of an enormous bat. The horses shuffled their feet in their boxes.
Some reared or kicked. “
Noooooooooo!
” Val shrieked again
while our ears were still ringing.

“What’s the matter, darling?” I leaned down
to see what had set him off. There was nothing I could identify as
a problem, nothing that had gone wrong with his clothes, nor had he
wet or soiled himself.

Isobel, with the help of a groom, had got the
carrying pack straight on her back, ready to receive its squirming
passenger. Val goggled at it and backed away. When I reached for
him he ran, surprisingly fast and sure-footed for a toddler, and
wedged himself into a tiny space between the feed trough and the
wall of the box that housed Thundercloud, Dominic’s high-strung
warhorse. “No bandits!” Val howled from his hiding place.

The large black horse, bad-tempered at the
best of times, went wild at the painful noise emanating from a
place that had up to now provided only comfort. His eyes rolled in
his head, he foamed at the mouth, he snorted and neighed, and he
kicked with lethal iron-shod hooves at the stout walls of his box
until the whole structure seemed in danger of collapsing.

Isobel’s horse, sensibly alert to danger like
its rider, skittered backwards. The woman lost control, having
dropped the reins to put on the carrying pack, and she hung onto
the front of the saddle, shouting a warning while her horse backed
all the way out to the courtyard, scattering men and boys around
her.

Dominic strode over to sort out this absurd
situation. “Val!” he said, commanding officer to insubordinate
cadet. “Stop your foolishness. Come out of there at once.”

“I hate bandits!” Val said. “I want to stay
home!”

“Valentine-Zoltan Aranyi-Herzog!” Dominic
used Val’s full name, the sign, as every child knows, that he is in
serious trouble. “Don’t wait for me to tell you a third time. Get
out here
now
!”

Thundercloud, far better trained in
obedience, hearing his master’s fighting voice, the order to
charge, reared high on his hind legs, lifting his forelegs and
slamming them down on the straw. A couple of grooms hovered in the
background. Only Dominic was able to manage this brute and even he
was keeping his distance.

“Val!” Dominic’s voice was menacing, a low
growl of fury. “You’re upsetting Thundercloud.”

“You’re a shithead. Go away, shithead.” The
child’s high voice came through clearly.

Dominic’s eyes rolled in his head like
Thundercloud’s. Any minute now there would be foam coming from his
mouth. He had his hand on his sword hilt when I intervened.

Val was invisible in his hiding place but I
could sense, through our bond of mother and child, his genuine
fear, not of the horse, or of the father he had reduced to pure
rage, but of what he thought our destination was and the wicked
people we would meet there.
Val doesn’t understand what he’s
saying
, I thought to Dominic.
He’s afraid, that’s
all
.

Dominic startled at the interruption,
shifting his weight from foot to foot. “He’ll be afraid when I’m
done with him,” he said. “He’ll learn to treat me with
respect.”

“As you learned from your father?” I
said.

Dominic attempted to calm himself with deep,
heaving breaths.

Val,” I said. “Val, darling. The bandits are
all gone. It’s safe now. We’re going to see Niall. You remember
Niall?”

Val considered in silence while the
frightened horses snorted and snuffled and trampled the straw in
their boxes. “I hate Niall,” he said. “I want to stay home.”

All this time Jana had sat Topaz, managing
him expertly despite his nervous prancing, watching the interesting
spectacle of her brother bringing about his own doom. Without any
doing of hers her hated adversary had dug his grave, was standing
on the edge. Gleefully, hardly daring to breathe, she waited for
the blow that would topple him over and in. But at Val’s last
unbelievable words Jana could contain herself no longer. “Niall
hates you too,” she said. “When we get there he’s going to cut your
head off and feed you to the dogs.”

Just when we were on the verge of ending it.
“
NOOOOOO!
” Val screamed while the horses resumed their
terrified dance.

“That’s enough!” Dominic said. “Silence!” The
only noise was the stamping of hooves, the sobbing breaths of
horses. I felt Dominic using that same trick I had noticed on the
day of Reynaldo’s cremation, soothing Thundercloud with his
thoughts, as he sidled up to the wicket.
Gently, my valiant
warrior. The enemy has fled. See?
He sent impressions of
victory and ensuing calm.
There’s no one here to fight. The
battle’s over. You did well, my brave one.

Slowly Thundercloud began to relax as Dominic
convinced him the threat was gone. The towering black horse and the
tall man in his dark riding clothes drew ever closer in mind and in
body until Dominic slipped into the box and sprang bareback on top
of the sweat-drenched animal. He leaned forward along the horse’s
long neck, murmuring with his deep voice, while Thundercloud
whinnied and snorted, then walked daintily through the gate held
open by a brave groom.

Dominic coaxed the animal out to the
courtyard. “A soldier never minds a little rain,” he sang in
Thundercloud’s twitching ear. Man and horse, almost one being, they
walked around and around in a circle until the stallion’s head was
hanging wearily and he was ready to return to his warm dry box, to
be brushed and combed, to eat the fragrant hay that would be put in
the trough where Val had hidden.

I seized the few minutes of opportunity,
crouching on the flattened straw of the empty box to look into the
tearful face of my son. His nose was running and he had wet
himself.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I said. “Come to Mama.
No one’s going to hurt you. No bandits, just your mama.” Over and
over I spoke the same words, until Val wriggled out and let me put
my arms tight around him.

I carried him out in triumph, in time to meet
Dominic face to chest. Val huddled his face in my neck and
whimpered while his father stared down at his infuriating progeny.
I heard it then, the terrible thought that was in his mind.
Like
my father
, Dominic was thinking, dejected and defeated.
The
evil cycle continues
.

“
No!
” I sounded like Val. “No,
Dominic,” I repeated more softly. “Never think such a thing.” I was
furious myself now, would have kicked down the walls of Aranyi
Fortress if I had iron shoes and strong hooves. “And never let me
catch such a thought in your head again, or—”

“Or what, Amalie? You’ll miss your period
again? Present me with another little red-haired lunatic in nine
months’ time?”

Lights exploded behind my eyes as I admitted
the truth that had been prying at the edges of my brain for some
time. “You never wanted Val! You wish he’d never been born, never
been conceived. Your own son, and you hate him.”

Not here, Amalie,
Dominic thought to
me.
Not aloud, not in front of everybody.

I stared through a haze of misery and rage at
all the faces: at Ranulf and the guards, Isobel and Katrina, safely
out of it if they pretended to see and hear nothing; at Naomi with
the knowing look in her bright green eyes; at Jana, worried that
things might not turn out as well as she had dared to hope; at the
stable hands and grooms, some frightened, others enjoying the
domestic quarrel.
No,
I said,
not here. Go to Galloway
and stay there for all I care. I will stay home with our
son.

I ran out into the sleet, splashed across the
courtyard and ducked in at the back door, climbed heavily with the
extra weight in my arms up the stairs to my room and collapsed on
the bed. Val twisted in discomfort, squashed between me and the
mattress. I sat up and tried to choke back my sobs. “It’s all
right, darling,” I said. “We’re staying home, just you and me,
together.”

Dominic crashed into the room, throwing the
door open with such force that it bounced off the wall and slammed
shut behind him. Val screamed in fear and wet himself again.

“Get out!” I said. I fumbled for my
prism-handled dagger, pulled it from its sheath and held it up to
the light from the window. Dominic took a few steps forward. I
lowered my inner eyelids and bent the light into my eyes. “Don’t
make me use this.”

Dominic lunged at me too quickly for me to
react. His hand closed over mine holding the dagger. My mind became
a chaos, streaks of separated light like jagged lightning forking
through the blackness of the anger in a fantastic panorama. I
bucked and kicked like Thundercloud, Dominic’s hand crushing mine
around the handle of the dagger, his arm holding me around the
waist. I twisted like a cat and clawed at his face. Dominic swore
and caught my flailing arm, pulling it behind my back.

“You fucking asshole!” I shouted. “Beating up
women! You enjoy that, don’t you?” I thrashed and kicked. “I’ll
fucking kill you. Just let go of me for one second, I’ll freeze you
solid. You won’t thaw out until Val’s a grandfather.”

“Please, Amalie.” Dominic was panting with
exertion. Not from restraining me, but from the effort of doing it
gently enough not to hurt me. “You know I don’t enjoy this. Please,
Amalie. We’ve had enough craziness with the
crypta
.”

“Maybe you have,” I said. “I’m just getting
started.” But the touch held and the communion took over. Despite
all my best efforts to work myself up, to force Dominic’s arms to
open and release me, my energy ebbed and my anger subsided as no
more filtered light reached the telepathic center of my brain.
Fatigue rushed in where the enhanced psi power had been.

Dominic’s grip shifted to an easier embrace.
I slumped and would have fallen as he helped me back to the bed.
“Amalie,” he asked, “can I let you go?”

I nodded and we sank down side by side. Val
was frantic, beating at Dominic’s back with his pudgy little hands.
When Dominic turned to see the cause of this odd sensation, Val
stood his ground. “Fucking asshole!” He repeated the new phrase he
had learned.

Oh, gods! Who knows what damage I had just
inflicted on the delicate psyche of a two-year-old. If Val hadn’t
been born the madman Dominic feared he was, I would turn him into
one. I pulled Val away from Dominic and kissed his face. “No,
sweetheart,” I said, no doubt confusing him even more, “that’s your
papa. Don’t hit Papa.”

Once again Isobel came to our rescue.
Knowledgeable in the ways of Margrave and ‘Gravina Aranyi, she had
followed in Dominic’s wake. She opened the door, saw things were
relatively quiet, picked Val up and headed back out. “Come on, you
little brawler,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Val’s wet
breeches, “let’s get you some clean clothes.” Val seemed to welcome
the arrival of someone sane. Dominic thanked Isobel with a smile
and a nod while I collapsed on the pillow.

“You hate Val,” I said. “Our son, yours and
mine, and you hate him.” I was pushing at Dominic’s mind, goading
him, hoping he would deny an unspeakable, horrible truth.

“You know I don’t hate Val,” Dominic said.
“But you’re making him hate me.”

I buried my face in the soft down pillow. I
had just caught myself doing that very thing, had lost the moral
high ground.

Dominic took advantage of my silence.
“Amalie, you know I love Val. Not the way you do. You’re his
mother; no one can love like that. And even you have to admit that
he could turn a Christian saint into a berserker.” I could sense
the smile that accompanied the humorous words.

It was too soon after the storm for me to
accept a joke as a peace offering. “You didn’t want him,” I said
into the pillow. “You wish Struan was the heir.” I sat up, sniffed
and wiped my face.

Dominic was silent, weighing the virtues of
his usual uncompromising honesty against a hopeless lie. “Yes,” he
said, “I do. And no, I didn’t want another child. Not that you
consulted me.” He raised his hands in surrender as I glared. “It’s
the mother’s right to decide when and if to bear a child. But since
you insist on knowing—no, I wouldn’t have chosen to have another
son, not after fathering Struan and promising Lady Melanie to
acknowledge him as my natural-born heir.”

The candid declarations disarmed me. I fought
back with the only weapon I had left. “What a shame that your wife
had to ruin your mistress’s plans.” Waves of my anger traveled to
Dominic along his arm that encircled me, were augmented by his own
emotions, and surged back and over me like a tsunami. “The perfect
son from the perfect woman. Val and I, mere mortals as we are,
can’t compete with that.”

Dominic sat back in surprise as revelation
struck. “You’re jealous!” he said. “You’re jealous of Lady
Melanie!” He laughed so hard I thought he would break a rib.