Turning of the Seasons

Chapter: Nine

~~~~~~~~~~

Scarce had Will returned to his tents than Marin was there wanting to speak with him alone. He pressed the man to help with the packing and refused to have that conversation until nothing but the big tent was left.

Marin's voice was low and urgent. "A party came looking for you. I suggest you find them."

"It'll have to wait, " Will gritted out. "I'm going after Adhemar." He turned to exit his tent and was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"I also advise you to not go charging angrily into Count Adhemar's camp." He glanced about nervously, releasing Will's arm.

"And why is that?" Will asked, impatience tugging at him. This tent was the last thing to pack up and then they could be gone from here. One last thing and he could be after Adhemar and Kate.

"Because, Sir Thatcher, he was bringing something to you."

Frustration at the vague conversations he'd been having lately reared up and he let out a growl. "Will you be direct for once? There's no one listening save Roland, man!"

Anger and fear played in his eyes. "And you must understand that I can't take the risk! I am my lord's most trusted man, the only one he fully trusted to keep his secret at tournament. If he finds I'm plotting to bring his family in, I could well be killed. My life is on the line, Sir Will. I remember when my lord, my Prince, was a gentle man and good in battle only for his skill. Something changed in him. After one battle, where he was gravely injured, a head wound that bled forever, he changed. He began to become more violent and lately, it's happening almost constantly. I can't be in the line of his anger."

Emotion drained from Will as the enormity of what they'd set into motion crashed over him as a wave. Hands resting on his hips, he sighed. "I know. Believe me, Marin, I know. I met that kind man and it's because I see him slipping away that I agreed to help you. But please, please answer me directly on this one matter. What on earth would Adhemar be bringing to me?"

From the folds of his tunic, Marin brought out a small bundle and opened it. "The scarf has the name 'Jocelyn' embroidered onto it. I assumed this necklace was hers as well. His party asked about for you."

Reaching out, Will took the scarf and the necklace. He recognized both. The necklace was the one she'd worn at that final joust, a delicate, yet intricate piece of jewelry. "Such a small bundle for his journey. Why bring this but take Kate? It doesn't make sense, Marin."

Marin snorted. "There was an entire wagon. This was all scavengers hadn't taken. I found it wedged beneath the wreckage."

"Wreckage?"

"Yes. Not far from where Kate was taken."

Will looked up at him. "Was she taken?"

Marin shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't there. I have only my lord's word on what happened. I did see the body of the man and there is the matter of that lump on my lord's head. Something did occur, but what I couldn't say."

They left the tent and Will, Marin and Roland took it down. In less than an hour, Will and Roland were gone, hot on Wat's trail.

~~~~~~~~~~

The child looked like Jocelyn, Kate decided. There was no denying who the mother was and if Kate looked closely, she thought she could see Will in the shape of Christopher's lips and face. She still hadn't gotten up the courage to hold the boy yet. They'd been traveling four days and she could not bring herself to pick him up. It was ridiculous to be jealous of a child and still she found that she was. How irrational was that?

She watched Christiana with him and wondered how soon until Christiana had her own child to cuddle. She'd make a good mother. She paid a good deal of attention to Christopher, rocking him when he cried and simply holding him. Would Adhemar make a good father? Kate turned her attention towards him, frowning. She'd not seen him touch the baby once. He seemed to avoid going near Christopher at all and now Christiana was gently teasing him about it.

It was fascinating to actually see the tiniest curl at the corner of his mouth, a smile Kate realized. He was almost smiling, a warmth growing in his eyes at the good natured ribbing Christiana was giving him. In that second, with humor growing upon his face, he became human for Kate. He was no longer that arrogant, cruel opponent Will had faced at tournament, but a man of flesh and blood who was far more complicated than what she'd seen at tournament. He was capable of something other than hate.

"You think I don't know how to hold a child?" He sat back in his chair.

Christiana's brows were raised in mute challenge and she shifted her weight as though to hand him Christopher.

Kate sat up a little straighter on the edge of the bed, very curious as to how this would end. Would Adhemar take the bait Christiana dangled before him or would he ignore it? Christiana's expression became taunting, lips pursing as though she was holding back a triumphant grin. It was also fascinating to Kate that Christiana would dare to tease him. She behaved as though it was easy for her to do so, like she'd come to a point in their relationship where she could determine the best time to jest with him.

"I've held many babies in my life, Christiana. I certainly don't need to hold another right now."

"Um-hmm." Christopher wiggled in her arms and giggled, kicking his feet.

"I don't need to prove my ability."

"Of course not. That would be unthinkable." She lifted Christopher up high and bounced him, eliciting a delighting screech from the boy.

Without further protest, the challenge was met. Squaring his jaw, Adhemar got up from his chair and strode to her, taking hold of Christopher and lifting him to him. He settled the boy in the crook of his arm. Christopher immediately took to the higher position, wiggling until he'd turned, little hands gripping the edge of Adhemar's coat. Adhemar smirked. "See. I do so know how to hold a child."

Christiana's smile was soft and Kate's amusement faded as she glimpsed her expression fully. Oh no, she thought. Christiana's in love with him.

The emotion was evident on her face, giving her that glow that only happiness brings about. Kate turned away from them and prayed that Will would find her soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nausea rolled in Edward's stomach and he pressed a shaking hand to his forehead, praying that these pains in his body would cease once and for all. He despised these headaches that would come upon him, pains that were increasing in frequency. It was during those times that his patience slipped away and he found himself behaving in a manner that disgusted himself.

He wanted it all to end. He wanted the guilt of attacking Kate to go away, the anguish of losing his son to disappear and for his body and mind to return to what they had once been. Clarity of thought was a brief thing these days, his emotions boiling in his blood, jumbling together and leaving him confused by his own behavior.

Was he being punished? Had he displeased God and this was his punishment?

Edward laid back on his bed, ignoring his advisors and all those people who professed such concern for his welfare. Their voices in the outer area of his tent were incomprehensible babbles. He could barely make out their words through the haze of stabbing pain the settled over him as a blanket, though it was clear that reoccurring nature of his illness frightened them all.

It frightened him as well.

His fingers slipped up and beneath one pillow to draw out that slip of cloth he'd found in the clearing. It was a piece torn from Kate's dress and he ran his fingers over the well-worn cloth. He loved his wife, really he did, so why had he been so obsessed over Kate? Why had thoughts of the maid caused stirrings of desire within him? Never had he lusted after another man's woman before. Never. He'd noticed beauty yes, but to betray Joan with his thoughts, and then his actions?

Reasons that had made perfect sense at the time no longer fit neatly in a box together, the pieces of them jagged and sharp. He'd made things right though. He'd given Will Adhemar.

A frown creased his brow and he put the scrap of cloth back under the pillow in a furtive movement, careful not to let anyone notice what he was doing. No, that didn't make it right. He knew very well that Adhemar hadn't taken Kate out of malice. He'd taken Kate to save her from Edward.

I've lied, he thought, eyes opening wide to stare despondently at the ceiling of his tent. When did I change? When did I become a man with no honor, stooping to murder and lies to achieve my ends? And when did my ends become so lecherous and wretched? When did I become the very thing I hate?

The pain became blinding and he cried out, the world becoming enshrouded in fog about him as his surgeon hurried in with the jar of leeches.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nighttime was what Christiana loved best as they traveled. In the night, he was hers alone. His men didn't bother them and Kate and Anne kept as far from them as they could go in the rooms they took in inns.

They'd talk in low voices, genial conversations that made Christiana feel as though he harbored a gentle feeling for her within him. It wasn't true and she knew it. He'd already expressed that he couldn't be that man she yearned for, so she took what he offered her and made herself find contentment in it.

Kate's story of the Prince's actions had distressed Christiana and given Adhemar great glee. He'd smirked at the thought of Edward losing his grip on sanity and been absolutely cheerful in his ideas on how to keep Kate from him. He was even friendly with Kate, actually listening to her words instead of dismissing them as was his usual manner with one of peasant class.

"Edward," he'd intoned, " has never done anything for me except engineer my humiliation in London and cheat me out of nearly a years worth of pay. I owe him nothing. To thwart him in any way is a delight."

He'd not come up with a viable plan however.

Christiana tentatively tendered an idea of her own. When she was very young, correspondence had begun to arrive for her from a distant cousin in Italy. The girl, named Francesca, was a bit older than her. There had been a vague mention of houses united by marriage and an expression of sadness in the deaths of Christiana's parents, but Christiana had never been able to figure out how the girl was related to her exactly. All she knew was that, once a year, she received a letter from her, or rather that branch of the family.

The letters were generic things, listing political occurrences and little of familial gossip. She and Jocelyn had enjoyed going over the letters and imagining the people there in that country. They'd had spirited discussions about Francesca, wondering if she really was who she claimed, for Jocelyn's father maintained that Christiana's parents were the last of both their houses. He'd declared the letters fake, a way for someone to cause false hope in Christiana's mind of a family intact. He'd blustered and fumed, yet not denied Christiana the reading of those letters.

Each letter singly was easy to forget and to this day, Christiana knew little about Francesca except that she was something of a crusader for lost causes and considered a novelty for it. Christiana didn't believe the letters were fake, for the messengers had been exotic men, whose accents were melodious and their native language pleasing to hear, though neither girl understood one word of what they said. Jocelyn's mother had affirmed that the messengers were Italian, so Jocelyn and Christiana had always eagerly greeted them.

Was Francesca still alive? Possibly. No letter had come in a long while. She could have died. However, sending Kate to her would take Kate from Edward's immediate reach and if the woman had died, Kate could always slip back home. By the time such a journey would be over and Kate returned, it was likely the Prince would have forgotten about her altogether. Politics could have changed as well and Kate would have no need to fear.

Adhemar listened to her whispered plan, asking questions until his curiosity was satisfied, then giving her a kiss. "You are full of surprises, Christiana. Italian nobility even. What else is a part of you that I'll be surprised with?"

She had no answer for him and when his attentions turned amorous, she was more than willing to comply.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was not as difficult as Kate imagined to pick up Christopher. Christiana forced it upon her in a sneaky manner, shoving the boy at her so that she had no choice in it. She'd no idea Christiana had a streak of deviousness in her. Kate took him and held him and found herself growing comforted by the child as he settled against her. It seemed strange to her that he wasn't upset by being handed off to whatever person was closest. Instead, he enjoyed it, cooing and giggling.

He still threw tantrums, like when he was hungry and needed changing, but for all of that, Kate decided he was a well behaved child. She rocked him to her, astonished by how quickly she became used to playing a mother. This child was a part of Will and all she had until Will returned to her, if he ever did.

"I've a distant cousin in Italy," Christiana said softly with a glance at her husband. "You could go there, Kate. I'm certain she'd give you shelter."

"How will Will find me if I run off to Italy?"

"We'll send him to you."

It was all so simple to Christiana, Kate saw. Boom, boom, boom, from one point to another. Kate's lips thinned into a prim line. "Begging your pardon, Christiana, but I can't be certain of that."

"Why ever not?" Christiana gave a puzzled frown that didn't lift even when Kate inclined her head towards the strangely silent Adhemar.

"I don't trust your husband," she said with as much candor as she could.

Adhemar laughed, a chuckle holding unchecked amusement. After a moment, he circled the chairs and crouched down so that he was at eye level with Kate. While she no longer felt like running from his presence, close proximity made her break into a nervous sweat. "Who risked the wrath of a prince to save you from ravishment?"

Licking her lips, she shifted Christopher in her arms before replying. "At Christiana's will."

His brows raised. "Still. Does the will matter more than the deed? Who was it also cared for a child not his and undertook a journey to take said child to his father?"

Kate blinked, snorted gently. "It's not like you personally cared for him. It's obvious you never picked him up or even touched him until a couple days ago."

"Yes, but I gave monies, a considerable amount I might add, for his care. I could have had him strangled and didn't, girl. Give me some credit for that at least."

"You've yet to prove yourself trustworthy in my eyes, my lord. Besides, I somehow think you don't care if I trust you or not."

His eyes narrowed, lips pursing. "The trust of a peasant woman is not high on things I care for, no. However, Christiana trusts me, and if you trust her, then by extension, you should trust me as well." He stood. "If Thatcher wishes to run about after you instead of reaching for a noble lady as his title lends him the access too, then who am I to stand in the way of his peasant instincts? Once a peasant, always a peasant. A title won't change that."

Kate squeezed her arms about Christopher and he gave a tiny wail. Adhemar's gaze drifted down to him, rested there a moment, then went to Christiana. He strode to her, ran his fingers along her cheek and left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Her cries were soft, but not so much that he couldn't hear them through the door panel.

Damien stayed the hand he'd reached out, listening to the words of the two within.

"I miss him so much, Christiana. My heart is breaking in my chest and it feels as though I can't breathe!"

Christiana's voice was soothing in tone and he pictured her giving her lady a comforting hug. "You have to let him go; accept your life as it is now."

"I can't! Life has frozen around me in a wasteland of emptiness and there is no warmth without Will. He was my heart and now he's gone. I will never, ever love another man. I can't betray my memories like that."

Damien swallowed hard, a tightness growing in his chest. Contrary to Jocelyn's belief, he wasn't an uncaring, unfeeling monster. He cared for her and cared deeply. If she'd let him, he'd bring warmth back into her life. She refused and refused time and again. In daily things, she sent Christiana in her stead. Jocelyn ate alone in the master's chambers and if he desired to see that beauty he'd noticed from the first, he had to seek her out, something that she was making increasingly difficult.

He'd give her the world if she'd let him.

But she wouldn't let him and she'd never let him forget that he wasn't her choice.

"The babe is all I have."

He wondered if she was rubbing a hand along the growing swell of her belly. She did that quite a bit when he was around, as though she wanted to rub it in that she carried Thatcher's child and not his. As though she wanted to? He shook his head. She did want to.

He may have won the fight against Thatcher, but now he had a war with Jocelyn to contend with.

"Not so, Jocelyn. You have friends here and your husband --"

"No!" That word was a hurting snarl, filled with hate. "He doesn't care for me. All he cares is that he won over Will in the end. I'm just a pretty thing to look at, nothing more. That's what he wanted and that's all he'll get from me."

Damien Adhemar woke with a jerk, sweat sticking the sheet to his body. One might assume from his life, that his nightmares were visions of wars lost and the dangers of the loser in the hands of the victor. This was not so. His nightmares lately were visions of real-life occurrences with Jocelyn at the center. His mind seemed intent upon making him relive every cutting, hateful thing she'd done in their marriage.

Carefully, he rolled over and sat up, watching Christiana for a long moment. She was still asleep, so he was fairly certain he'd not cried out. If he had, she'd have woken and hurried to comfort him. She strove to help him forget his nightmares. He really was grateful for her. She was a soothing balm when he needed it.

He got up from the bed and slipped on his trousers. The cool air chilled his flesh, sending shivers along him. In the corner, the babe stirred, cooing contentedly. Damien stepped over Kate and Anne's slumbering forms and stared at Christopher a second before going to Kate and waking her.

"Mistress Kate."

Slowly, she woke, eyes fluttering before opening wide. "Mmm?"

"The child," he paused, swallowed and continued, making an effort to refer to the boy by name. "Christopher stirs. You must take charge of him, be his mother now."

She sat, her expression wary. "Why me?"

He didn't answer, watching her and waiting for her to supply the answer herself. She was smart, for both a peasant and a woman. Surely she could make the connection.

Biting her lip, she turned her attention to Christopher. "I'm leaving and taking him with me, then? Why take him?" Her glance returned to him, then fled. "He's not yours. You don't want him. He needs a woman's care, a woman who remembers his mother and can tell him of her. Having him with me will give me something of Will in case I never see him again...."

"Yes. Christiana and I can't take him, as much as she wants to. I know she longs to keep him, but my family won't accept him. He'll have nothing and would be little more than a servant. With you, he has some chance. If this Francesca is what she made herself to be in those letters, then she'll make certain he's treated in accordance to his station."

"His station? You consider Will a peasant still."

Adhemar shrugged. "Ahh, but his mother was a lady. He has a bit of Jocelyn in him and I cannot hold a tiny child in contempt. I may dislike his father, but I cared for his mother deeply. I wish no ill will on her son. This is best for him. Thatcher will learn he's with you and where you're headed whenever he comes to us, if he does come to us."

She thought that over and he wasn't surprised when she stood and went to Christopher. Picking him, she held him to her shoulder and cuddled him.

He returned to bed, sliding beneath the covers and turning his back so that he didn't have to watch Kate bond with the child. His last thought before he returned to sleep was that he should get Christiana with child soon so she'd not be too disappointed in Christopher leaving with Kate.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning brought Wat to yet another inn that had Adhemar listed among the travelers. His party was already gone. Frustration kept growing higher and higher inside Wat and he felt he was going to burst from it if he didn't find them soon. It seemed that he was directly behind them, right on their heels and yet couldn't quite reach them. He knew Will had to be close behind him. At the rate this was going, they were all going to be in Anjou before they met.

He set out on the rode again. The weather was foul -- like his mood -- and under the cover of rain, he nearly missed the group of travelers sitting out the storm in the shelter of a canopy of trees by the side of the road. It was only the falling branch into the center of the road before him that made him stop his breakneck pace.

Turning, he made his way to the canopy and discovered those travelers, along with familiar faces.

"Kate," he called, grabbing her into a soggy hug. He registered the child in her arms, his questioning glance going unanswered as Christiana greeted him.

Then Adhemar. No words from the man, only a brief nod of his head.

"Kate, you're not hurt?" He didn't see any obvious injuries upon her.

"Not at all," she answered. "Well, save for my aches from when Prince Edward attacked me...."

Anger simmered in him. "He attacked you? When? What really happened? Will said he claimed Adhemar...Count Adhemar," he corrected quickly, "stole you from camp."

The story was given, Adhemar still remaining silent. Kate and Christiana did the talking, their explanations and proposed plan of action leaving his mind whirling.

"You're going where? Italy?" Kate nodded at that and he glanced about at the group. "Well, who's going with you?"

Adhemar's voice came, arrogant and sure. "Aside from Christopher's wet nurse, I would say you are." His arms were crossed over his chest. "You know her, she trusts you and you'll keep her safe, I assume."

Wat held his tongue. For once, he felt it prudent to keep from speaking.

"She has monies. I've supplemented the considerable sum Thatcher supplied her with. The child should be well looked after. Those coins are for his comfort. We were going to part company at the fork in the road a few miles north. She'll curve about on it, going east for a space, then move south. The route I've outlined for her will take her far from the armies I'm aware of. She should be fairly safe, as safe as any traveler can be. However, she'll be safer with a friend along."

There were so many questions in Wat's mind, like why was Christiana still in the household with Jocelyn dead and what was Kate doing taking Adhemar's son to Italy with her? He supposed the man had his reasons for both and decided to wait and ask Kate about them later. Slowly, Wat nodded. "Fine. But Will has to know where we go."

"It'll be taken care of," Christiana said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Go with God, Wat. I doubt we'll see each other again."

Probably not, he agreed. Italy was a long way off. "You too." He embraced her, a quick wrapping of his arms about her. Standing tall, he found Adhemar's gaze upon them, geniality gone and a hardness entering into those depths. Was that jealousy he glimpsed?

Before he could consider that notion further, the Count strode forward, putting himself between Wat and Christiana and causing Wat to stumble back. Once more Wat held his tongue and added his temper into that mix.

"Take Kate and Anne and go. Now."

The rain was still pouring, but Wat didn't argue with the directive. The sooner they were away from Adhemar, the better. He helped Anne, then Kate onto horses, situated the baby in a sort of sling close to Kate's body and they left the party. A last glance back showed Adhemar pulling Christiana tight to him, a possessive arm draped over her shoulder.

He gave a fervent prayer that Will would catch up with them before too long, and then Wat, Kate and Anne began their journey together towards Italy.