into her mind, without censoring what she
said, she fell silent, looking shyly at him. His returning glance
was mild but penetrating.
“So are you different.” From his neutral tone
she could not tell exactly how he meant that remark, but after his
earlier praises, she thought it might be a compliment.
They had reached one of the lean-tos, and she
saw the pine that had been heaped into a bed. Next to it lay the
hide rope. Theuderic threw his cloak over the pine and motioned to
her to lie down.
“Please,” she said, “don’t tie me again. It’s
humiliating to be leashed like a dog.”
“Have you never observed that unleashed dogs
often wander from home?” His voice remained as quiet and his manner
as non-confrontational as before, which gave her the courage to
insist, hoping to sway him.
“When I am bound, you are bound, too,” she
said. “If the Saxons should attack, you would waste precious time
releasing me so you could fight them.”
“Should the Saxons attack us tonight, I will
do what I would have done last night,” he replied, showing her the
knife he had used on Eudon’s wound. “After you slept, I kept this
in my hand all night, so I could kill you quickly before you could
be captured. The Saxons reserve special tortures for prisoners such
as yourself. I will do my best to protect you from that
horror.”
“Dear God,” she whispered, sinking down upon
the fragrant pine. All her earlier sense of peace and safety had
dissipated, his words having recalled her to her true situation.
She was alone and frightened in a barbaric world. The trees
surrounding their camp, which until then had seemed to her like the
walls of a large room securely enclosing Theuderic and all his
company, instead became in her imagination hiding places, behind
which fierce and cruel Saxons or ravenous beasts might be skulking.
Compared to either of those threats, Theuderic and his men, rough
and unlettered warriors though they might be, represented all that
existed of civilization, offering her the only protection she might
hope to find. Meekly, she put out her right hand and let him knot
the rope around her wrist.
“Surely there are dangers in your own
country,” he said, fastening the loose ends of rope around his
waist.
“Terrible and violent ones, especially in
certain parts of our cities,” she admitted. “But they are known to
me, and I can try to avoid them. Here, where I am a stranger,
perils seem to lurk behind every tree.”
“I understand. Doubtless I would feel as you
do, were I to travel to your land.”
They lay down together, and he pulled the
cloak over them. Perhaps sensing the tenseness of her mood, he made
no attempt to touch her. She did not sleep until it was almost
dawn.
In the morning, six of the men organized a
hunting party. Hugo and Osric remained in camp, hovering like
anxious parents over Eudon, whose sunken eyes and flushed cheeks
revealed the effects of fever and persistent pain. India sat with
Eudon while his nurses went off to tend to their personal needs and
break their fast, but they were soon back at Eudon’s side,
insisting there was no more she could do. Theuderic was nowhere to
be seen, Marcion was cutting firewood, and she could see one or two
other men standing guard over the camp.
Her fears of the previous night having eased
somewhat with the rising of the sun, India decided to find a place
where she could wash in private. She had been living with more than
a dozen men for almost three days, and she wanted a few minutes
alone. She would be careful, keeping her eyes open in case of
danger, and she would not go so far from the camp that she could
not return quickly.
She followed the trickling water that ran
beside the campsite until it flowed into a small stream, then into
a larger one. Springs and streams and little pools abounded in the
forest, many of them fed by melting snow. India found a rock that
had been dried by the sun and knelt on it, leaning over the stream
to
said, she fell silent, looking shyly at him. His returning glance
was mild but penetrating.
“So are you different.” From his neutral tone
she could not tell exactly how he meant that remark, but after his
earlier praises, she thought it might be a compliment.
They had reached one of the lean-tos, and she
saw the pine that had been heaped into a bed. Next to it lay the
hide rope. Theuderic threw his cloak over the pine and motioned to
her to lie down.
“Please,” she said, “don’t tie me again. It’s
humiliating to be leashed like a dog.”
“Have you never observed that unleashed dogs
often wander from home?” His voice remained as quiet and his manner
as non-confrontational as before, which gave her the courage to
insist, hoping to sway him.
“When I am bound, you are bound, too,” she
said. “If the Saxons should attack, you would waste precious time
releasing me so you could fight them.”
“Should the Saxons attack us tonight, I will
do what I would have done last night,” he replied, showing her the
knife he had used on Eudon’s wound. “After you slept, I kept this
in my hand all night, so I could kill you quickly before you could
be captured. The Saxons reserve special tortures for prisoners such
as yourself. I will do my best to protect you from that
horror.”
“Dear God,” she whispered, sinking down upon
the fragrant pine. All her earlier sense of peace and safety had
dissipated, his words having recalled her to her true situation.
She was alone and frightened in a barbaric world. The trees
surrounding their camp, which until then had seemed to her like the
walls of a large room securely enclosing Theuderic and all his
company, instead became in her imagination hiding places, behind
which fierce and cruel Saxons or ravenous beasts might be skulking.
Compared to either of those threats, Theuderic and his men, rough
and unlettered warriors though they might be, represented all that
existed of civilization, offering her the only protection she might
hope to find. Meekly, she put out her right hand and let him knot
the rope around her wrist.
“Surely there are dangers in your own
country,” he said, fastening the loose ends of rope around his
waist.
“Terrible and violent ones, especially in
certain parts of our cities,” she admitted. “But they are known to
me, and I can try to avoid them. Here, where I am a stranger,
perils seem to lurk behind every tree.”
“I understand. Doubtless I would feel as you
do, were I to travel to your land.”
They lay down together, and he pulled the
cloak over them. Perhaps sensing the tenseness of her mood, he made
no attempt to touch her. She did not sleep until it was almost
dawn.
In the morning, six of the men organized a
hunting party. Hugo and Osric remained in camp, hovering like
anxious parents over Eudon, whose sunken eyes and flushed cheeks
revealed the effects of fever and persistent pain. India sat with
Eudon while his nurses went off to tend to their personal needs and
break their fast, but they were soon back at Eudon’s side,
insisting there was no more she could do. Theuderic was nowhere to
be seen, Marcion was cutting firewood, and she could see one or two
other men standing guard over the camp.
Her fears of the previous night having eased
somewhat with the rising of the sun, India decided to find a place
where she could wash in private. She had been living with more than
a dozen men for almost three days, and she wanted a few minutes
alone. She would be careful, keeping her eyes open in case of
danger, and she would not go so far from the camp that she could
not return quickly.
She followed the trickling water that ran
beside the campsite until it flowed into a small stream, then into
a larger one. Springs and streams and little pools abounded in the
forest, many of them fed by melting snow. India found a rock that
had been dried by the sun and knelt on it, leaning over the stream
to
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