The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series) (19 page)

John strode past Joan as he headed out to the practice area.
She was waving her arms around with her story as she spoke with a somber faced Perceval. John felt the man's eyes on him as he walked past.

"It wouldn't be like her."
Joan's voice trembled with emotion.

John shook his head in disgust.
His lady was quite good at disguising her intentions even to the ones closest to her. She had probably only stayed in the castle this long to wait for Arthur. He came and she left with him.

"My lord
," Perceval's deep voice rumbled toward John as the man came up behind him. Hesitating but a moment, John continued toward the barn.

"What is it now?"
John called over his shoulder without breaking his stride. The older man was forced to trot up to him if he wanted to be heard.

"Decided have you?"
The man was elderly but didn't appear winded as he kept up John's quick pace.

"What are you talking about?"
John didn’t hide his impatience. Why didn't the man just leave him alone?

"You've decided you should never have trusted her."

John stopped in his tracks. How could this man know that was how John felt?

"I don't know what you're going on about.
I've a horse to saddle. There is trouble brewing."

"There's been trouble for awhile, my lord.
I tried to tell you that."

John squinted as he looked the man up and down.
"So you did. You just weren't very forthcoming in what you knew."

"I was interrupted."

"Out with it then. I've matters of my own to see to."

"These are matters of yours as well."
Perceval's face was set in a stubborn grimace, his hands on his hips.

John crossed his arms about his chest and waited.
This man had had many opportunities to broach whatever concerns he had before now. What had held him back? John was tired of the uncertainty game. He needed action. Coming to the end of his patience, John raised his eyebrows, waiting for compliance with his command.

"She didn't leave of her own will."

The crease between John's eyes deepened. Was that possible?

"What do you know?" John stepped close to the man, intimidating him with his size. "You tell me now or I will have the information beaten out of you."

Perceval seemed unimpressed. "My lord, your lady wife was taken against her will."

"How do you know that?"
John bellowed the question. The blood rushed in John's ears. Could Rowena be in trouble at this very moment? There had been no sign of a struggle.

"Arthur came and took her."

John spit on the ground in disgust. "Would Arthur need to take her? Or would she just go willingly?"

"She would go willingly…" John pushed past the man as his words hit home "…if she believed you were grievously injured."

John stopped again, turning back. "Arthur told her I was hurt?"

Perceval dipped his head, acknowledging the statement as fact. "That is what I believe."

John shook his head. Uncertainty churned in the pit of his stomach. It was so easy for him to believe Rowena didn't really care for him. It was easy for him to believe she would just walk away and go off with someone else at the first opportunity.

The memories of their parting assaulted him, weakening his resolve to believe the worst of her.
She had pretended to be strong in saying goodbye to him. He could see she didn't want him to leave but she had kept her head up and wished him well. She had said she was pleased with him for a husband. Surely that wouldn't be necessary to say if she had plans to be away with Arthur.

"I see you struggle with what I'm telling you.
Let me assure, my lord, it is the truth."

The memories persisted.
Rowena grabbing him against her to kiss him goodbye, the feel of her sweet lips on his. His eyes closed in defeat. He wanted her to be the woman he believed she was. He wanted her to care about him and only him.

John
opened his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. Finally searching the older man's weathered face and clear eyes, he decided to take a chance. "If I believe what you say, I must rescue her."

"It is not just her you must rescue."
Perceval's eyes pierced into his own. "It is also your child that you must rescue."

"What?"
Unsure of what the man had just said, John fought to keep his emotions in check until he was sure of his meaning.

"She was happily carrying your child, my lord."

John's breathing quickened. She had conceived? So soon? He was to be a father? A grin broke across his face. "There is no doubt?"

Perceval tipped his head to one side, a look of deep thought on his face.
"She was fairly large."

"We must find her." His joy was quickly overtaken by fear for her and their unborn child.

"Wait!" Perceval grabbed John's arm before he could put action to his words. "You need to know where they are."

"Do you know?"

"I know Arthur's story. His family lands were located near the Roman ruins of a stone fort, north of Crowhurst."

"Would he take her there?"
Why go to such a desolate place?

"It was his family home."

"But would he take her there? So far?"

"I do not believe there would be anywhere else he would rather take her."
The older man shook his head slowly, his eyes rounding in sympathy as he spoke. "He wanted her to wife. That was his plan before…before William brought you here."

All the pieces finally clicked into place.
To have it said aloud made it so much clearer. Arthur couldn't have Rowena so he took her.

"Do you think he would mistreat her?"
Fear for his wife became a tangible thing, working its way into the darkest recesses of his heart.

Perceval avoided looking directly at him as he answered.
"I believe Arthur is stricken with grief at having lost his last chance to regain all his father had lost. He is desperate."

"Then show me where you believe he has taken her.
Quick man!"

They headed to the barn and prepared two strong horses
. Traveling at a steady pace, Perceval led the way to Arthur's family home. John was struck with a feeling of familiarity about the place. He finally realized it was where he had been based with William after they'd first come ashore from Normandy so many years ago. The entire location was beyond desolate. The woods were burned to the ground. Even after all this time had passed. It was as if nothing dare grow there ever again.

"Here."
Perceval quickened his horse to the edge of the small crofter’s garden, the remnants of the building a crumbling shell. A stone wall pushed out of the ground where it had settled steadily over the hundreds of years since its original use. He jumped to the hard packed ground and pulled the branches away from the small opening.

"How did you know about this place?" John was amazed, joining him to look down the darkened stairs that led below ground.

Perceval seemed insulted by the question. "I have lived here my entire life."

John drew his dagger at the sound of the moaning from within the darkened area.
He cautiously led the way down the steps. The little bit of light coming in from the opening cast strange slats of light on the stairs ahead of them. The enclosed area smelled of rotted timbers, sickness...and lavender.

"Rowena?" John's call was a raspy whisper.
"Are you here?"

The moan that came back to him was from someone in deep pain.

"I can't find you." He moved toward the sound, stubbing his toe as he tripped over something on the ground. "Rowena?"

The moaning ceased abruptly.
John moved more quickly toward where he'd heard the last sound. His foot slipped in something but then his eyes became adjusted to the darkness. He squatted down beside her where she lay on the ground, against the far wall. She was shivering but no longer moaning.

H
e propped her slightly against his leg, rubbing her arm as he spoke."Rowena?"

John br
ushed the hair away from her face, her eyes were tightly closed, her body stiff with pain. Perceval had stopped halfway down the steps.

"Where is Arthur?"
Perceval whispered the question, his own dagger at his side. "He can't have gone far."

Rowena's eyes fluttered open and she struggled to sit up.

"Are you hurt?" John felt her body tense then and she fell back against his thigh, pulling her legs up tight as she moaned. She was in great pain. "What has Arthur done to you?"

Perceval came to squat beside the two of them. "I don't think it was Arthur."

She shook her head with her moan, deepening until its sound reverberated against the cold stone walls.

"What then?"
John was totally helpless at his wife's distress.

Perceval turned toward John, gripping his arm firmly.
"The baby's coming."

"What?
No! That can't be. It is too early."

Rowena's head rolled back in exhaustion when the pain ceased.
She finally saw John. "Are you really here this time?" Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Or are you just a dream?"

"I am here
," John answered and helped her to a sitting position, his arm firm under her own. The movement caused her to again tense and moan in pain. "What can I do?"

"You can't do anything, man.
We need to stop the baby from coming. Cramp bark would do the trick." Perceval headed out the small opening, quickly returning with a branch with shiny red berries.

John grimaced.
"She can't eat those. They'll make her sicker."

Perceval was using his dagger to strip the bark from the plant.
"It's not the berries. It's the bark. Here." He handed John a small wad of bark. "Try to get her to chew on this."

John sniffed it, su
spicious about something he had no firsthand experience of. Cocking his eye at the older man, and Perceval gave a stiff nod and headed back up the stairs.

Rowena was in so much pain, her face was contorted
.

"My love, this may help." John slipped it between her teeth. "Bite down on it."

She gagged when it went into her mouth. "This would do better as tea."

"We're doing the best we can."
He rubbed her back.

She sniffled then put
it back into her mouth. Her face still filled with disgust.

Perceval came bounding down the stairs, twigs and leaves fell from his
armload of wood, a dented pot sloshed water on the ground where it hung from his wrist. In no time, he had managed to build a small fire, setting the iron pot close by.

"I've dropped some bark in the water.
It works best when drunk."

"So I've heard
," John answered.

Perceval stood silhouetted against the dimming light drifting down the stairs.
"I will go and get help."

"Do you know of anyone here abouts?"

"I will do what I can as quickly as possible." The man went up the stairs two at a time.

Rowena's face was pinched in pain.
She seemed to be holding her breath, the cramp bark clamped tightly between her teeth. John had never seen a woman in labor before. She still had ahold of his arm and pulled against him. He was surprised by her strength. Her face turned dark with the effort. Pushing herself against the wall, a low growling noise came from deep inside her.

"What can I do?"
She seemed focused on something behind him but he saw nothing there. Where was Arthur? Was she waiting for him to come back?

"I am here now.
I will help you." He hid his own self-doubt.

Suddenly exhaling, her efforts ceased and she sucked in the air with her exertion, coughing the bark out.
"John. You have come back at a most inopportune time." He smiled at her attempt at humor. "I wanted to tell you I was pregnant when you came home before, but everyone said you had not really been there."

The last time he'd seen her was when this child had been created.
Perhaps she was fevered. Her brow was cool to his touch. He quickly counted how long it had been since then and realized the baby could not live if it was born now. She did not seem to recognize that fact as she continued.

"I believe we will have a girl.
She will have dark..."

Gripping his arm, she bent her head to her chest as the pain assaulted her again.
Her body tensed and she pulled her knees up tight. It was apparent even to John that this child was coming. He tried to prepare her and saw the top of the babe's tiny head pushing its way out. His breath held when he saw the size. It was barely bigger than the palm of his hand. His eyes misted.