Time to Love Again (25 page)

She lay with her cheek on the hard links of
chain mail covering his chest, listening to his heart beat and
loving him with all that was in her. When she felt him move and
opened her eyes to see what he was doing, he offered her a handful
of tiny flowers he had pulled out of the grass next to the spot
where they rested. She took the flowers from him, lifting them
first to her nose to inhale their soft fragrance, and then to her
lips.

“White violets,” she murmured. “So delicate
and so short-lived.”

“Not at all,” he said. “They survive the
snows of winter and the harsh summer sun and heat. They only look
delicate.” His hand smoothed down her disordered hair in a gesture
so tender she almost wept at his touch.

From a branch on a nearby tree a bird called,
and received an answer from another direction.

“I hear it’s mating season,” Theu said,
laughing. “For the birds as well as for you and me. I wish we could
stay here all day in this peaceful place and watch the stars come
out when it’s evening, but we ought to go now. The others will be
waiting for us.”

She got to her knees again, still holding the
flowers, lowering her face to them once more.

“I can’t throw them away,” she said, and
slipped them carefully into the pocket of her tunic.

Theu was already on his feet, adjusting his
clothing, then reaching for her trousers. When she had them on and
fastened, he knelt to help her with her boots. Sitting now, she
brushed his straight brown hair back with a gentle hand. He looked
up into her eyes, laughing again.

“What joy you’ve given me,” he said. “How
much I love you.”

It was then that Autar found them. He came
marching out of the forest to the meadow, blinking in the sudden
sunlight, and stopped short when he saw Theu kneeling before
India.

With admirable calmness, Theu finished
sliding India’s boot onto her foot, then rose, one hand on her arm
to help her up, his other hand holding his belt and sword. As if to
send a deliberate message to Autar, Theu kissed India full on the
mouth, taking his time about it, and she saw a glint of humor in
his eyes just before she closed her own to better savor the sweet
taste of his lips.

When Theu let her go and began to buckle his
sword belt about his waist as if he had not a care nor an enemy in
the world, India noticed Marcion and Hugo approaching with
purposeful tread. But Autar had begun to move again toward the
couple in the field, and Marcion and Hugo followed him.

“This is activity unworthy of a great lord
when he is soon to ride into Spain to kill the infidels,” Autar
declared. “How can heaven speed our course or grant us victory if
Charles’s counts dally with worthless women in this way?”

“Come now, Autar,” said Marcion, laughing,
“do you really imagine none of Charles’s nobles will lie with a
woman from now until we return from Spain? That’s asking too much
of mere men.”

“Not too much for Count Hrulund – or for me
and the rest of his men,” Autar answered before accusing Theu
again. “You ordered these two to occupy me so you could bring your
concubine to this field unnoticed and lie with her like a rutting
animal.” He would have said more on the subject had not the look on
Theu’s face stopped his tongue.

“If I do not use my sword on you here and
now,” Theu said in a quiet, deadly voice, “it is only because you
carry Bishop Turpin’s message to Charles. But I tell you, Autar, if
you ever again say anything insulting about India, I will kill you
within the hour.”

“Theu, I’ll be there as your witness,” said
Marcion.

“And I,” Hugo added.

“You will regret this,” Autar promised,
looking from man to man. “All of you will.” After a glance at India
that plainly showed what he thought of her, Autar turned his back
on them and stalked away.

“I am so sorry,” India said to Theu. “I seem
to cause you constant embarrassment. My very presence makes enemies
for you.”

“Those who are my enemies,” Theu responded,
taking her hand, “would be my enemies whether you are beside me or
far away. To Autar, or to Hrulund and Turpin, you are but an
excuse. Lacking you, they would soon find some other reason to
voice their enmity toward me.

“What lies between us,” he went on, looking
into her eyes, “is no light or casual thing. I think you know I
would wed you at once, if you would only agree.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Hugo told
him. “I had begun to wonder what your intentions toward India might
be. I feel toward her almost as tenderly as toward my own sister,
and I’d not like to see her hurt.”

“Will you marry him?” Marcion grinned at her.
“You owe him an answer, after he has asked you before
witnesses.”

“I wish I could say yes.” India’s eyes were
still on Theu’s. “But I cannot, for a reason Theu understands.”

“What reason?” asked Marcion. “Widows are
free to marry where they please, unless the man is totally
unsuitable, which Theu is not. If it’s a dowry you need, I’ll be
happy to provide one for you once I return to Lombardy. I can give
you a small estate in the hills, with a nice little manor
house…”

“Or if you need someone killed so you can be
free to wed,” Hugo offered, “I’ll do the job for you. If there’s
more than one person to finish, I’m sure Eudon will be glad to
help.”

“We’ve seen Theu through a long and lonely
time,” Marcion added. “I, for one, would like to leave him with a
good wife when I go home this autumn.”

Caught between laughter and tears, India
looked from Theu to his friends.

“You make me wish I could stay in Francia
forever,” she said. “But I may have to go home myself, and quite
suddenly, too. It wouldn’t be fair to Theu to marry him and then
leave him.”

“That makes sense,” Hugo agreed. “Husbands
and wives should not be separated, except when the husband goes to
war.”

So saying, Hugo headed toward the trees into
which Autar had vanished. Marcion followed him, with Theu and
India, still hand in hand, trailing behind them.

“If it should happen that you find you can
remain with us after all,” Marcion said, looking back at India as
he spoke, “then you could still marry him, you know.”

“Thank you, Marcion,” said Theu in a dry tone
of voice. “If India’s circumstances should change, I will ask her
again myself, with no help from you or Hugo.”

Marcion, still looking backward, was about to
make some laughing reply, but he stopped walking instead, his eyes
going wide at something he had seen in the open field behind them.
India and Theu both turned to see what had caught his
attention.

In the field, hanging just above the place
where they had lain together, a globe of brilliant orange light was
steadily expanding. India edged closer to Theu’s side.

“No,” she whispered, “I don’t want to leave
you.”

Releasing the hand he had been holding, Theu
set her behind him and began to pull his sword from its scabbard.
She heard the whisper of Marcion’s blade being freed, too.

With a loud clap, the orange light
disappeared, leaving the field as empty as it had been a few
minutes before.

“What in the name of all the saints was
that?” With his naked sword in his hand, Marcion took a tentative
step onto the field. At the same moment, Hugo came crashing out of
the trees with his own blade drawn.

“What happened?” Hugo demanded. “It wasn’t
Autar – I heard him well ahead of me. What made that noise?”

“Lightning and thunder,” Theu replied,
sheathing his weapon. “I recognize it now.”

“Out of a cloudless sky?” Marcion looked as
though he could not believe this explanation. “I have never seen
lightning like that.”

“I have,” Theu said, looking at India,
speaking as if to relieve her trembling fear. “I’ve seen it before.
It causes no harm unless it actually strikes someone. There is no
danger now. It’s over and won’t come again for a while. But let us
gather everyone together and be away from this place as quickly as
we can.”

For all his brave words, he put an arm across
India’s shoulders, holding her tightly while they made their way
back through the trees, holding her as if he would never let her
go.

“Which circuit did you blow out that time?”
An emotionally exhausted Willi leaned back against the office wall.
After this latest unsuccessful attempt, she could no longer hide
from herself the possibility that India was gone forever.

“No problem,” said Hank. “I can easily get
the stuff I need from the storeroom. The repairs won’t take
long.”

His complete self-confidence set Willi’s
teeth on edge. Since India’s disappearance, she had learned
entirely too much about Hank’s character. She was sorely
disappointed in him – and in herself for not realizing sooner what
kind of person he was. And she blamed herself for suggesting that
he should give computer lessons to India.

“You can’t get anything from the storeroom
today,” she pointed out. “It’s Sunday. No one will be in the
office. Besides that, you need a requisition, properly filled out
and signed by your department head. That’s the way we get supplies
for the Art History Department. All of which means that you will
have to wait until tomorrow to get what you need. But tomorrow may
be too late for India,” she finished bitterly.

“Not to worry. I know how to bypass all that
administrative red tape.” Digging one hand into his trousers
pocket, Hank brought out a well-filled key ring. Having selected
the key he wanted, he held it up for her to see. “Clever, yes?”

“How did you get that?” she asked, appalled
by his sheer nerve. She did not really want an answer to her
question. She knew in advance that she wouldn’t like his
explanation, and she could easily imagine what he would say if she
reminded him that he could be fired for possessing a departmental
key he wasn’t supposed to have.

“The janitor is never around when I need
him,” Hank’s voice broke into Willi’s thoughts, “so I had my own
key made. Crooks do it all the time, so why shouldn’t I? Don’t let
anyone into this room. I won’t be gone long.”

After the door had closed behind him, Willi
sank into the only chair, burying her face in her hands. She had
just seen yet another side of Hank that she had refused to
acknowledge before, and she knew she had to think about her
relationship with him at once, whether she wanted to or not.

“I could have loved you forever,” she
whispered, badly shaken and uncertain what to do about Hank’s
appropriation of university property without a requisition, which
had apparently been going on for some time, or his cavalier
attitude toward breaking and entering, which was what his use of
the illicit key was. “You aren’t the honest man I believed you
were. I think I always knew you cared more for your experiments
than for any human being, including me, but now I find you’ve been
stealing heaven-knows-what from the university to improve this
computer they let you use. Improve? That’s a joke! Whatever you’ve
done to it has destroyed India.” The thought of her dearest friend
dead because of Hank’s actions brought Willi to tears.

“Oh, poor India,” she sobbed. “This is all my
fault. I wish I had never asked Hank to help you. Oh, I wish I were
dead, too.”

“Excuse me, do you know where I could find
the janitor?”

At the sound of an unfamiliar masculine
voice, Willi sniffed and began to wipe the tears off her
cheeks.

“I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me.
I’m sorry to interrupt your work, but I was supposed to deliver
some personal property to the History Department office and I can’t
find anyone to open the door for me.”

“It’s Sunday afternoon,” Willi said with
another sniff, still keeping her back toward the speaker because
she had just realized that her makeup must be a mess after all the
crying she had done. “Actually, it’s almost Sunday evening.”

“I know, but my brother promised there would
be someone here. Do you think you could help me?”

After wiping her cheeks one last time, Willi
stood up to face the intruder, a slender young man with dark curly
hair and dark blue eyes. He had a charming, slightly mischievous
smile that faded as soon as he saw her face.

“You’re crying.” He pulled a spotless white
handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“Good guess.” Willi blew her nose rather
noisily into the handkerchief. “What did you say you wanted?”

“The key to the History Department office,”
he repeated very distinctly.

“I’m not supposed to leave here,” she
informed him, waving a hand toward the computer. “There is an
experiment going on, and it had better work soon or there will be
murder done in this room. But Hank should be back before long, and
he seems to have the keys to every blessed door in this
building.”

“I take it you aren’t too fond of Hank,” the
stranger said, watching her reaction.

“I used to be.” Willi blew her nose again.
“But I just discovered how dishonest he is. And he lost my best
friend.”

“Now, that’s what I call bad policy,
mislaying a friend.” The stranger smiled at her, once again
suggesting mischief and abundant charm. “I’m sure your friend will
turn up soon.”

“If she doesn’t,” Willi said, “I’ll go to
Campus Security and tell them everything I know. If they can’t
help, I’ll go to the police, maybe even the FBI.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” The man’s smile
vanished. He took a step into the room, his eyes on Hank’s
machinery. “What’s really going on here? And what the devil are all
those extra components attached to the computer?”

“Don’t answer that.” Hank came through the
open door carrying a large box in his arms. “Willi, I thought I
told you not to open the door to anyone. Who the hell is this
guy?”