The Hermetica of Elysium (Elysium Texts Series) (42 page)

“But…”

“Shh. Go. Now!” he released her and pushed her hips with both hands.

Nadira flew up from the ground and ran over the stones and branches, dodging the trees. She could not see where she was going, but the ground fell away before her and the river must be there at the bottom. The sounds of the French faded as the bank rose behind her head. Her feet were wet, then muddy, then cold, then the trees were gone and the moon shone on the river. Nadira stopped, looking left and right for a hiding place. She realized she would have to get wetter, but with a deep breath plunged into the river and made her way down until she was hidden by overhanging brush.

She climbed high in the bracken to get as much of her body out of the frigid water as possible, but still her feet touched the edge of the river as it went by. She tucked her feet higher under her and waited. The sound of the river masked any noise she made, but also kept her deaf from whatever was happening above her. It seemed she waited half the night, but at long last she heard the sound of her name.

Nadira leaned out from her sheltered cove. She saw Montrose moving stealthily toward her up to his knees in the cold water. He was feeling the bracken along the bank, searching for her. She coughed softly to get his attention and saw him startle, then pick up speed as he allowed the river to join them together.

He dragged her up to lie on the bank, and then, kneeling, felt her up and down saying “Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did they harm you?”

Nadira could not answer, but nodded vigorously in the moonlight. Words did not come to her only hot tears and sobs. She had not realized how badly she had stifled her heartache until now when she could release it. Montrose sat down and took her onto his lap and rocked her back and forth until she could speak. The warmth of his body revived her as the soothing murmurs of love were like warm sweet wine. She quieted, half believing she was dreaming. How did he find her? How did he get here?

Instead she heard herself ask, “Are we safe from the French?”

“For now.” Montrose kissed the top of her head. “I have run off their horses and some of the men are pursuing them. The two men who were following me are dead. It will be some time before their bodies are found. We must flee, but I want you to catch your breath. Once we start we cannot stop until I say it is safe.”

“How did you find me?”

“Later, Nadira. There is no time for such a long story now. There are still men out there who are terrified of what will happen when the king is told that his little prize is gone. We have to go now if you are ready to run.”

“I am.”

Montrose pulled her to her feet and steadied her on the steep slope with both hands. “We have to keep to rough country and try to stay in the ravines. Their advantage is speed, ours is stealth.”

He began to move along the river, leading her north. Nadira heard the shouts of the French some distance away. They were beating the bushes with their swords and shouting, trying to flush them like birds. Montrose pulled her down to the ground for a moment.

“Not too bright, are they,” he whispered. Nadira had to agree. After a moment, when he was certain they were safe, he led her for miles back along the river. As the eastern horizon lightened, Montrose directed her toward a crofter’s cottage.

“Will we be safe there?” Nadira asked. “Won’t they search all the buildings?”

“We aren’t going in the cottage,” he answered. “We are going to the barn to hide in the thatch.”

Nadira shuddered. “The thatch? The most noxious vermin live there. Ticks, mites, lice, mice, spiders, snakes…”

“Snakes? How would snakes get on the roof?” Montrose looked at her doubtfully in the wan light and Nadira saw his face clearly for the first time.

“Oh Rob, you look terrible,” she cried. He did. His clothing was filthy, torn at the knees and elbows. His face scratched and bloody above his rough beard. His hair hung long and matted into ropes over his ears and neck, leaves and twigs clung to him and his face was streaked with dirt and sweat.

He burst out laughing. “I looked good enough to you last night. Come on. The crofter is inside sitting by his warm fire and he has no dogs, but soon he will be out.” He led her by the hand behind the low stable and lifted her up by her hips into the straw that covered the roof. Nadira set her jaw against the expected vermin and climbed over the rough stone of the wall. She had to insert her feet through the bundles of thatch and feel for the support beams.

“I cannot burrow under,” she called down in a low voice, “The thatch is too tight.”

“Find a good spot. I’ll throw more straw up for you to cover yourself.”

Nadira set her feet and lay back in the thatch. There were prickles where a straw poked her here and there, but after the chase through the night it felt good to rest. She even conceded that a few spiders might not be too bad, after all. Some loose straw came sailing up over the eave, landing near her feet. More piled up near her and she gathered it into a neat pile, covering her up to her neck. When the straw stopped flying she felt a shaking of the rafters. Montrose joined her, covering himself with straw as well. He made a straw wall around their heads.

“To keep anyone from seeing us from below, “he explained. Nadira was impressed.

“Are you sure this will work?” she asked.

“I used to do this as a boy when I wanted to hide from my father,” he said. “It never failed. I selected this shed because it is on the highest part of this hill. No one can look down from above to see us. We just have to be still, so we don’t knock straw through inside and make the farmer investigate his roof.”

“You are right. I’m so tired I think I can lie very still.” She moved her hand under the straw until she found his arm, and then slid her hand down to lock fingers with him. He squeezed her hand.

“Nadira, I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured.

“I am still amazed that you found me. We must be leagues and leagues from Andorra. How did you do it?”

There was a slight rustle as he repositioned himself. He squeezed her hand again. “I received your message. I knew that whoever took you from Conti’s tower would end up in Rome. When I got to the port I asked around to see if anyone knew whose men these were who had recently sailed. I found out that Di Marco had sent this contingent, funded by the pope to fetch you from Conti. It was easy to get passage to Rome and easier to find Di Marco’s house once I was there. There I learned that Di Marco was hiding from the Holy Father for some transgression. I was told that he had left the city by the north gate and might be hiding in the home of one of his friends or distant relatives. I set out…”

“Wait, wait, wait…after I left the tower, you were lying wounded under a tree. Tell me what happened then. Where is William?”

“Maria took me home. Her mother put me in her uncle’s shed and fed me until I was strong enough to come out. William went back to Coix.”

“Then he is safe. You did not suffer from your wounds?” Nadira rolled onto her side and reached her other hand through the straw to feel his chest and arms.

“Terribly. But I’ve suffered from my wounds before. I do not fear pain as you do. I fear other things.”

“Like what?” she stroked his arm under the straw, feeling the hard muscles through the rough wool. He had made an excellent recovery.

“For a long time I thought I feared nothing at all. You have taught me to fear again.”

“I have?” She could not get enough physical confirmation that he was indeed here with her and not just in her mind. Her hands played up and down his arm.

“I had forgotten the icy fingers on the heart, the clutch in the throat that stops the breath, and the frigid wave of blood that floods the limbs. I gave up those feelings forever. But now they are back, tormenting me but for an entirely different reason and I know I will never be free of it again as long as I live.”

Nadira lay silent for a few moments before speaking. “And you say I have taught you to fear again. You fear for me, now, instead of yourself. I understand this fear. The day they hauled me away in the wagon, when I left you lying nearly senseless in the tower, I felt that freezing hand.” She paused, remembering. “There’s naught to be done about it, is there.”

“Not a damned thing.” His voice was muffled by the straw.

“So, Maria’s mother healed you enough to get to the port. Did you set off with no weapons?”

“They gave me their best pig-sticking knife. I had to promise to return it, and I plan to.” Nadira smiled. The sun had crested the horizon, the weak wintry rays welcome to their chilled bodies. She sighed happily and turned her face to the sun.

“Then what?” She prompted.

“I traipsed about north of the city until I found someone who had seen the pope’s men hunting for Di Marco. I found them and followed them to his hiding place. It was easy to infiltrate them.”

“How did you do it? Don’t skip over that part.”

Montrose chuckled. “I can understand some Latin. Not much, and I certainly can’t speak it fluently, but my brother did spend a year in Rome using the library that belongs to the pope. I had plenty of opportunity to learn useful phrases.

“I picked off the sentry and took his clothes. He had a very fine shirt and a thick tunic. Very handy. My boots were better than his, so I left them on him. I took up his post and traveled with them on their way back to Rome. Through the gossip I learned why Di Marco had fled the city. I learned that you had been taken to a secret hearing with the enemies of the pope to determine whether he was dabbling in witchcraft. Before we reached the gates of the city, I had learned what I needed to know and slipped away. It took me only two days to reach the outskirts of the French army. My French is fluent, as you may know, Nadira, and it was no trouble to listen to the gossip about the stolen gypsy girl.”

“Did you see Garreth and Alisdair?”

The roof rocked as he sat up, straw flew from his hair. “No! Were they there?” he cried.

“Lie back! Shh!” Nadira pushed up on one elbow and scanned the horizon, then looked carefully at the crofter’s cottage. All was quiet. “They are not in danger. Remember Father Bertram sold them to the French. They are part of that army marching to Naples.”

“If they are part of the French army then they are in plenty of danger. I have to go back.” He sat up and looked around. He rose up like he would jump down.

“No! Please,” Nadira reached for him and pulled him down beside her and put her head on his arm. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t leave them there, Nadira.”

“They are safe,” Nadira insisted. “They don’t want to follow the army. They are trying to escape and they will.”

“Do you know this because of, well, you know,” he stumbled over the next words, “that thing that you do?”

Nadira thought for a moment. How did she know? She thought about Garreth and Alisdair marching through Rome. That thought felt cold, like metal. She imagined them hiding in the brush, keeping their eyes on the road, following the French contingent as it regrouped. This thought felt warm, and as she elaborated on the images, it grew into a feeling of excitement. Yes. She did know for certain that Alisdair and Garreth were no longer with the body of the French king’s army and she knew it because of that thing that she did. She smiled in the straw.

“I know it. Trust me.”

Montrose nodded to himself. He turned to face her. The straw surrounded his head like a nest. Nadira brushed a wisp from his hair. He pulled her close and kissed her mouth. She held him to her breast and rested her chin on his head. She felt his warm breath on her throat as he sighed with happiness. He squeezed her.

“Nadira. If Garreth and Alisdair are out and heading back to Andorra, then we must let them find us.”

“And the French?” she murmured, playing with a twisted lock of his hair.

“The French are easy to outsmart. I just did it yesterday.”

“Yes, you didn’t finish the story.”

He stroked her breast with his thumb as he continued. “I followed the road until I saw the wagon party ahead. Then I kept to the scrub, following until nightfall. I watched them until it was very dark and they had posted their sentries. I could see that they were very confident. I take it that the chest does not contain any gold or the royal jewels or anything like that.”

“I don’t know what was in the chest. I suspect it is full of manuscripts.”

“Well, they didn’t guard it like it had money in it. They posted only four sentries, and gave them wine with their ration. Can you believe that?”

“The French?” Nadira laughed softly. “They put wine in their babies’ sugar tits.”

“I don’t doubt it. Anyway, I waited until they had eaten and become bored. There is a point, Nadira, where boredom sets in with every sentry. With some men it is only after several hours, with these men it was immediately after their supper. I imagine marching all day tired them out, but still it was too easy to slip up behind them and,” he made a slashing motion with his hand.

“You killed them?”

“Each one.”

“How many?”

“Three. The first one was farthest from your fire. I made my way in and dropped the other two just as easily. Clearly they were not expecting any opposition.”

“Clearly,” she murmured.