The Cross and the Dragon (33 page)

“I do not know what will come to pass,” she said, using the tone of a mother to her son. “In all my years in the hospital, I have never seen anything like this. We must take hope wherever we can find it. Do you understand?”

Hruodland swallowed and nodded.

“Illuna, fetch some porridge for Hruodland.” Elisabeth met Hruodland’s gaze. “Now, Hruodland, after you break your fast, the lay sisters will help you bathe and shave.”

“Must they?”

“It is like bathing a child.”

Hruodland blushed. “It is humiliating, no matter what you say.”

“I would have had them wait a couple of days, but the abbess insisted on visiting you today. Apparently, she is an old friend from the court.”

“Who is she?” he asked, sitting up from the pillows.

“Judith of Bordeaux, my brother’s daughter.”

Hruodland rolled his eyes and sank back into the pillows.

“Why did you just give me that look?”

“It is not you,” he struggled to say without slurring. “You have been kind. All the sisters have been kind, even Sister Illuna.”

“She will be glad to hear that. But why that look at the mention of Judith’s name?”

Hruodland gave Sister Elisabeth a pleading look. He remembered his last encounter with Judith a few summers ago at Aachen and Alda’s outburst — a threat to spread rumors if Judith did not leave Hruodland alone. Hruodland did not dislike Judith, but he did not like her much, either. She had satisfied his lust once — well, a few times, but there had been no affection between them. It would take so much effort to explain this situation without insult in normal circumstances, and he did not have the strength.

“Why that look?” Elisabeth asked.

“I do not want her to see me like this,” he said, too tired not to slur his words. That, too, was true. He hated the sight of his own body wasted away.

“It is your pride.” Elisabeth patted his hand.

Hruodland nodded.
Let her think it is pride.

“I tried to tell her. I tried to tell her you had lost much flesh. I tried to tell her it was a great effort for you to speak.” She threw up her hands. “All for naught. I might as well have been speaking to the wall. It was all I could do to have her visit after you were bathed.”

She sank down and sat on the cot beside Hruodland. She rested her elbow on her knee and propped her head against her hand.

“You should rest,” he murmured.

“I wish I could.” Elisabeth rose as Sister Illuna entered, carrying bean porridge. “I shall return when Judith comes to visit.”

“Thank you,” Hruodland slurred.

After Hruodland ate his porridge, the sisters filled the tub, and Illuna fetched a lay brother. Hruodland sat up and managed to put his feet on the floor. He would have fallen back on the cot, if Sister Illuna and the lay brother, a burly fellow, had not held him up.

“Lean on us, Prince Hruodland,” she said. “On the count of three…”

He concentrated on standing as the sister and brother helped him. He looked down. He was standing! He was actually standing!

“Good,” Illuna said.

“I cannot stand on my own,” he said, terrified.

“Just a few steps,” Illuna coaxed.

He concentrated. Lift left foot. Move forward. Lift right foot. Move forward.

“Big step now,” Illuna said.

He stepped into the tub, which smelled of lavender and mint. Illuna and the lay brother gently lowered him. He was exhausted, and his legs felt like water, and the bed seemed impossibly far away. His shoulders sank.

“Why are you troubled?” Sister Illuna asked. “That was wonderful.”

“It was all I could do,” he said, splashing his face and chest.

“You are doing more than you could do a month ago,” she replied. “You could not even wash yourself a month ago.”

He could barely wash himself now. As he sat in the tub, Illuna gave him a comb. He made a few swipes through his short, dark hair, and then the comb slipped from his fingers. He could do no more.

“You have many scars,” the lay brother said. “How many battles have you seen?”

“More than I can count,” he replied, flattered and then saddened because he could not even hold a sword now.

“You have not asked me where you are,” Illuna said as she finished combing his hair.

“I am in the Abbey of Saint Stephen,” he replied.

Illuna dropped the comb. “Saints be praised,” she said as she retrieved it.

After Illuna and the lay brother managed to dry him and return him to the bed, Hruodland fell into a doze, wondering why it exhausted him to do such simple tasks.

* * * * *

Hruodland awoke to the sound of voices. His limbs, even his eyelids, felt too heavy to move.

“What have you done to him?” he heard Judith’s outraged voice say.

“I told you,” Sister Elisabeth said, a tremor in her voice, “he lost weight while he was sleeping. A sleeping man cannot eat.”

“But he used to be so muscular,” Judith retorted. “And what have you done to his hair?”

“He was barely alive two months ago, and you are asking me about his hair?” Elisabeth’s voice became angrier and louder. “It will grow back.”

Hruodland opened his eyes a crack. Judith stood before him in all her glory. Under a wool cloak, an embroidered woolen gown flattered a plump figure. Convent life had not caused her to abstain from jewels — headdress, girdle, rings, necklaces.

“Hruodland, you are awake,” Judith said, smiling.

God’s wounds!
Hruodland thought.
I should have pretended to be asleep.

Hruodland opened his eyes all the way and struggled to prop himself on his elbows. Sister Elisabeth rushed toward him with pillows and helped him settle against them. She adjusted the sheet and blankets so that they hid most of his body.

“How are you feeling?” Judith asked.

Hruodland closed his eyes. He did not know how to answer. He felt weak, too tired to speak. But he had to try.

“The sisters have been kind,” he said, concentrating on his speech.

“Have they treated you well?” Judith asked in Frankish.

A puzzled look on his face, Hruodland nodded. Why was she speaking Frankish? The sisters here spoke Aquitanian-accented Roman.

“You can tell me the truth,” she said in Frankish. “They do not understand Frankish.”

“It is true,” he said in Frankish, sinking into the pillows. Shocked by her distrust in her own sisters, he wished he could sit upright and tell her more, but he was exhausted.

Judith covered her mouth and ran out of the ward.

“What did you tell her?” Elisabeth asked in Roman, her voice cross.

“I said you treated me well,” he slurred. “I swear by the saints.”

“I wonder what upset her,” Elisabeth said half to herself.

“Sister,” Hruodland said, again struggling with his speech, “could you ask her to send a message to my wife?”

“Yes, I will ask her. You wouldn’t know,” she muttered.

“Would not know what?” Hruodland asked.

“Suffice it to say that I am not the abbess’s favorite sister, even though we are kin,” she said with a grim smile.

“I guessed as much.” Hruodland shrugged. “If I could, I would dress and walk out there…”

“I said I would ask,” she said irritably. “What should the message to your wife say?”

“‘Come here. Your husband needs you.’”

* * * * *

Elisabeth leveled a gaze at the door, drew herself to her full height, and squared her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, she suspected Hruodland still did not understand how she loathed speaking to her niece about anything. She was still seething about the location of Denis’s grave.

Elisabeth strode out the door in search of the abbess. After asking a few lay sisters and servants, she found the abbess in her residence, slumped by the hearth. Elisabeth fought back her anger and sat down beside Judith.

“What has caused you such distress?” Elisabeth asked as gently as she could manage.

Judith looked up, her eyes red and swollen. “You could never understand.”

“What could I not understand?” Elisabeth asked, barely keeping her anger in check.

“You have been in the convent since you were a child. You did not see Hruodland in his prime. He was so muscular, so handsome, and now he is…” Her lower lip trembled before she could finish the sentence.

“Just because I have been in a convent all my life does not mean I cannot appreciate a man’s beauty,” Elisabeth snapped. “But you are right about one thing. I have only known him since his brother brought him here, when his eyes were open but saw nothing. To me, he looks much better.”

“What?”

“He is getting flesh back on his bones, his color is returning, and he no longer stares at nothing. Sister Illuna told me he took a few steps today.”

Elisabeth felt hot, unbearably hot. She rose and took a step away from the fire. She threw back her veil, tugged at her habit, and fanned herself. “I do not care if the Lord never gives him back his looks. He has already given back Prince Hruodland’s life.”

“What kind of a life is it?” Tears streamed on Judith’s cheeks.

“I do not know what will come to pass. But I know how you can help him.”

Judith looked up and wiped her face with her hands. “How?”

“You can send a message to his wife and tell her that her husband wants her to come here. Surely, she would be eager for news of him.”

“Invite her to my abbey?” Judith asked indignantly.

“I thought you said Hruodland is a friend.”

“Hruodland is. His wife is not.”

“Then I am sure Hruodland will be all the more grateful when you do invite her.”

“What makes you think I am going to invite that little shrew here?” Judith stood up, her frown deepening, all vestiges of tears dry.

Elisabeth swallowed back her frustration. She thought a message to Hruodland’s wife would be a simple favor, a piece of parchment or a wax tablet to be sent with the next merchant. Why could nothing be easy with Judith? She suppressed the urge to scream,
Think of someone other than yourself.
Instead, she said, “Because such an invitation would help Prince Hruodland.”

“It would help him to hear I sent a message to his wife?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Tell him I will send a message.”

“Thank you, Abbess.” Elisabeth bowed.

As her anger seeped out, Elisabeth felt the weight of her nights without sleep. Leaving the abbess’s residence, she thought about getting some rest, but she had one more thing to do. She pulled her veil back over her head and strode to the ward for the dying. To her surprise, Hruodland was awake, propped on pillows.

“The abbess will do as you ask,” Elisabeth said.

The smile on Hruodland’s face made Elisabeth glad she had spoken to the abbess. It was the happiest she had seen him. But she wondered how much to reveal to Hruodland.

“Did you know your wife and the abbess are acquainted with each other?” she asked.

“You put it delicately,” Hruodland said with a laugh. “It all seems so silly now. Surely, Judith realizes my wife was barely out of girlhood at the time. She doesn’t harbor any ill will, does she?”

Elisabeth hesitated for a moment, pondering what to say. “The abbess wishes to help you.”

“Do you think my wife will receive the message in time to travel here? Winter will come soon, and travel will be too dangerous.”

Elisabeth pulled her cloak closer to her. Now that the spell of heat had passed, she was cold again. The trees were bare, and the days had become shorter.

“I do not know when the message will reach her,” she answered. “She will receive it in time to travel this spring.”