Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,190
while Stephen was on the throne.”
“I will have to be Robert now, as well as myself, but how, when he was the better part? No one can take his place. Those who remain with me were already here when he was, so how can we make up for what is gone?” She made a soft, anguished sound.
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He came to her and set his arms lightly around her and for a moment she laid her head on his breast and they stood as close as lovers. Brian’s grief deepened. He ached beyond belief with emotion for her, but it was part of a much greater pain. “I do not know what to tell you.”
“And you were always so good with words.” Her voice was brittle. “Have you none for me now?”
“They are all ashes in the wind,” he said hoarsely. “I burned them as you bade me—all the ones that mattered anyway.” She drew back to look at him, then her gaze dropped to the base of his neck and sharpened with concern. She reached to touch his throat and he felt her cool fingers burn on the sores there before he could pull away.
“Dear Jesu, Brian, a hair shirt!” Her eyes filled with shock.
“It is between my conscience and God,” he said tautly, “and no concern of anyone else’s. Not even you.”
“How long have you been wearing this?”
“Does it matter?” Leaving her, he went to the open window and stood in the cold draught. “It helps me stay sane,” he said bleakly. “Sometimes I think the dark thoughts in my head will send me mad, but this keeps them at bay—after a fashion.
While I have torment of the flesh, it lessens the torment of the mind.”
She had suspected for a while that something was wrong, but his words alarmed her, as did his appearance. This was not the vigorous, bright-eyed man who had met her on the road when she returned from Germany and raised a tent on a windy night.
He said, “When I was a little boy in Brittany, I had the freedom to run wild. Then my father arranged for me to be raised at the English court by your sire. It would be a fine opportunity, he said. I would be educated and trained and if I worked hard, I might one day be a great and important lord. I wanted to please him and I wanted to learn; I was always eager 471
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then for new experiences. I loved my lessons and I loved your brother. I was even fond of Stephen then, when we sat drinking wine on long summer evenings and dreaming of our futures—
of what we would become.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I do not think any of us imagined it would come to this, not even Stephen.”
“Brian…”
“Is it worth it? Is any of this struggle worth the cost?”
“To do the right thing is never a waste.” Her throat was tight with tears.
“But what is the right thing?” he demanded. “To put a sword through a man because he opposes you? To burn down a village because it lies in your path and its occupants are beholden to another lord? To ignore the screaming women and children as you throw torches into their thatch and put spears through their menfolk? To rob merchant trains because they are on their way to enrich your opponent’s lands?” He raised and lowered both hands in a desperate gesture. “How does that benefit anyone? Does it make God smile? I have done all of those things and more, and my soul is sick.” He turned over his right forearm and looked down at his wrist where the veins stood proud. “I swore to serve you to the last drop of my blood. I know what you think of men who renege on their oaths, and too many have done so…”
He hesitated and she felt a tightening of dread in her solar plexus. “And you are about to renege on yours? Is that what you have come to tell me?”
He shook his head. “No, domina. I will serve you for as long as you desire.”
She did not want to see the desperate, hollow exhaustion in his eyes and turned away, rubbing her arms. She was so cold.
“Then I have things to tell you also,” she said. “The bishop of Salisbury is still badgering me to return Devizes to the see. I 472