Page 57 of Wild Reverence

XXXIX

Deem Love a Fetter

VINCENT

“Tell me how you captured her.”

I sat on a fallen log in the coppice, sunlight spangling the ground between me and Hugh.

We were alone, his archers standing in the clearing beside our horses.

At first, his query seemed to roll off me like rain.

I did not know who he spoke of until I watched his eyes drift to the direction of the caravan.

His eyes, fixating on Matilda again as she helped my people gather up the spilled provisions from the road.

“How did I capture her?” I repeated, and I could not hide the sharpness of my tone. These words sounded much different in my voice than his, and whatever lingering hope I had clung to—whatever confidence I had harbored when it came to his aid—faded like smoke in the wind.

He was not the man I remembered. A lord who was wise and courageous and diligent. Who was honorable, willing to fight to the death for what we had believed was righteous.

“There are not many of us who can claim we have bedded a divine, far less bind them with a marital vow,” Hugh continued, still watching her.

“Although you have known her for years, haven’t you?

I recognize her as the goddess on the moors who ran from us, just after Adria’s death. She was much younger then.”

That day was destined to live in my memory as both golden and dull, precious and bittersweet.

I almost regretted holding on to Matilda for as long as I had, for it had only brought us both grief.

Her fear and my anguish. How wise of her to run, as much as it had torn my heart up by the roots.

How wise of her to refuse my offer to come home with me.

I had wanted her to sit in the hall at my side, to show her the places we had only explored in blurred dreams.

She would not have been safe.

My hand curled into a fist.

I would have to be mindful of what I said to Hugh. I could not let him know my respect for him had just fallen and there was no chance of it ever being restored.

“I did not need to capture her,” I said. “Unless you deem love a fetter.”

That, finally, brought Hugh’s attention back to me. “Most of us do not marry for love, lad. Nor for beauty. We marry to strengthen our hold, our borders, our people. And you know that you can never have children with her? Divine and mortal blood cannot create life.”

“I know,” I said. “I want no children.”

“No heirs? That is an odd thing to say as a lord.”

I had made this vow to myself long ago. I would bear no children, no heirs. For if I did, I would always be shackled to the fortress. And it was never supposed to be mine.

“Let us speak of the missive you failed to receive,” I said, eager to change the flow of this conversation. We were wasting our breath; we only had so much time remaining. “I am calling upon you for aid, to help me defend the bridge.”

He listened as I described the past few days. I told him of Grimald’s arrival with his five thousand men and the parley that had failed, ending with an arrow. The three days Matilda had given him to retreat.

“If this is so, then why are you on the road with children ?” Hugh exclaimed. “With women and old men and the infirm?”

“I am bringing them to you, ” I replied.

“I am pleading sanctuary and protection on their behalf. I am asking you to shelter them in your hall. I am preparing for the worst—for the walls to crumble, for a siege to drag on for months. I am asking you to honor your oath to my father, to stand with me to defend the bridge.”

Hugh muttered something beneath his breath, leaning back on the log. He suddenly looked older to me in this light, with the shadows slashing across his face and a frown pulling his scars taut. But he was quiet, contemplative. And his eyes once more flickered to the road, watching Matilda.

“Is she not enough?” he asked. “Is she not the power you need?”

“She is more than enough,” I answered. “But that has nothing to do with the oath you swore to uphold.”

“You ask too much of me.”

I did not know how to respond. I held my tongue, pressing down on the torrent of angry words I wanted to spout at him.

Eventually, he mellowed, as I expected.

He sighed and looked at me. “Your people are welcome to take shelter in my hall, although I cannot guarantee a feast for them every night. Winter will be upon us soon, and the storerooms are not as full as they once were. The gods are testing us, I think. But I will honor my oath to your father, because I loved him like a brother. He saved my life more than once on Adria’s battlefields.

And your uncle was always a snake in the grass, a wily one to watch.

I am not surprised he has returned, and I am sorry you must face him again. ”

Hugh rose, his armor creaking.

I stood with him, relief making my bones feel soft. I swallowed down the emotion, but it sat like a stone in my chest. Something heavy that I would carry for days. Sennights. Years.

But then I wondered… was he only agreeing to help me because I was married to a goddess? A goddess he could not take his eyes from?

“Thank you,” I said, holding out my hand.

Hugh took it, giving it a firm shake. “If you want this caravan to reach my hall by nightfall, we should go. Then we will ride back to the river, although we will be hard-pressed to reach your holding before Grimald’s assault begins. I still need to rally my warriors. It will take time.”

This was what I feared: that I would still be kilometers away, slowed down by foothills, when the assault on the bridge began, leaving Nathaniel alone to lead the defense of our home.

But my eyes found Matilda, watching as she spoke to one of the weavers, drawing a laugh from the older woman.

I left Hugh behind in the coppice, blocking his view of Matilda as I walked to her, keen to speak with her alone. I gently took her arm, pulling her toward the wayside, once more out of Hugh’s view, where only tangles of goldenrod, vetch, and a few droning honeybees could overhear our words.

“I need to make yet another request of you,” I said.

Matilda studied my face as if it were a map with all its lines and frowns and sharp-cut edges. “What is it?”

“I will continue on to Drake Hall with Hugh and the caravan. But I would like for you to return to Wyndrift, to remain at my brother’s side. I worry the assault will begin before I make it back with reinforcements. That is why I want you to go now, so you can help him.”

“I do not like the thought of us separating,” she said. “But I will do as you ask, on one condition.”

“Should I be scared?”

She smiled at my poor attempt of a jest. But I found that I was eager to do it again, if only to stir such light within her.

“You do not strike me as one who scares easily, lord.”

“Oh, there are many things that I fear.” I let myself trace the edge of her jaw. Her eyes closed, briefly, as if she liked it. This is not real, I reminded myself, my hand falling away as I said, “Name your condition.”

Matilda untethered the draws of her cloak. Her bare arms glistened in the sunlight, corded with muscle. Golden bangles clinked on her wrists. Slowly, she extended the cloak to me.

“You must take this with you,” she said. “It can protect you, should you need it. To charm it, simply breathe make me a shadow. ”

“And what of you? You will be traveling alone. You will need it more than me.”

“No. I am sorry to say this but… I do not fully trust your ally. Keep one eye open around him. Wear my cloak, or else I will be forced to remain at your side.”

I could not argue with her. I could not stand against the iron in her voice, the darkness of her eyes. The way she smelled like mist and grass and cold water over rock.

My hand reached out and accepted the cloak.

Matilda took a step away from me. She was watching the breeze as it began to sough from the east, as if waiting for something to come. It blew through her hair, tangling it across her face.

“I will see you soon,” she said.

But I did not have a chance to respond to her.

One moment, she was within my reach. The next, she was smoke and memory.

I watched, unable to breathe, as Matilda was swept away by the wind.