Firefly. Part 22

He then set her down, but retained his hold on one of her slender arms. With his other hand he ripped away her servant's garb, exposing her body, which was almost as fine in its way as the horse was in its way. He opened his breeches and brought out a tool of horrifying implication. He bore her back against the wall and ravished her without ceremony. Then he dropped her and returned to his chamber for a good night's repose.

Teensa lay for some time where the n.o.bleman had dropped her. At first she was aware only of the pain, then the horror, for she had been raped, when she had never before even seen a man's tool, or known what it was for. She had been too terrified even to scream, not understanding any part of what the man had intended. Now it was too late to scream-and indeed, as she realized what had happened, she knew that she dared not say anything about it to anyone, for a woman, even a n.o.bleman's daughter, who was not a virgin was useless for any good match. So she dragged herself up, staunched the blood with a shred from her dress, and staggered secretly to her own chamber.

Her maid was horrified. "Mistress, what happened to thee?" she exclaimed. "Did a boar gore thee?"

"Yes," Teensa said. "But it was my fault. Swear to tell no one!"

The maid swore, for it was her job to support her mistress in all things. But she was not fooled; she had been ravished enough in her youth to recognize the signs. She provided Teensa with what she needed, and bathed her and clothed her for the night, and said nothing to the other servants.

Teensa wept herself to sleep. But she was, for all her shyness, of n.o.ble lineage, and in the morning she rose and pretended that nothing had happened. The visiting party departed, and the normal routine of the castle settled in. It seemed that the ravishing had never happened.

But when the visitors were gone, the maid approached the n.o.bleman, Teensa's father, when he was alone. "I have aught to tell thee, sire, though it distress thee," she said.

"Speak, loyal maid," he said, for he was a tolerant master.

"One of the visiting party ravished a maid in the stables," she said. "Even as thou ravished me when I was young and buxom."

"Thou'rt still buxom," he replied gallantly. "It happens. Why report this to me?"

"The maid was thy daughter."

The n.o.bleman had been in the process of picking his teeth. The toothpick snapped asunder. His fist clenched so hard it became white. "Which one?" he asked through his teeth.

"Sire, I know not. She would not speak of it, and swore me to secrecy. But I have no secrets from thee."

"None at all," he agreed, remembering his erstwhile pleasure in discovering those secrets. "Return to thy duties, maid, and keep this for thyself." He gave her a fine gold piece. "Say naught elsewhere."

"Aye, sire," she agreed. He had rewarded her as she had hoped he would.

The thing was, maids and wenches of low birth were fair game to n.o.bles, but a n.o.ble maid was fair game to none. In particular, Teensa was untouchable. The maid had had the fortune not only to serve her master loyally, as she had done in another way in the past, but to earn a reward for providing him with news that cut him to the very marrow. Thus she had a private triple victory, and was well pleased with herself.

The n.o.bleman investigated quietly, and in due course ascertained which visitor had gone to see his horse at what hour. He discovered the faint stains of blood under the hay where that horse had been stabled. He now knew the ident.i.ty of the ravisher.

But this was no easy matter. A lesser individual he could have had beaten to death; the visiting n.o.ble would have done it on request as a matter of simple courtesy. But the n.o.bleman himself-that were not expedient. In fact, no charge could be made, because of the circ.u.mstances. First, such a charge against a n.o.bleman would be tantamount to a declaration of war, which would gain no one anything worthwhile. Second, it was obvious that the visitor had not known the ident.i.ty of the maid. He had taken her for what she appeared to be: a slops wench. As such, she had no rights, and his action was in no way untoward. Had Teensa identified herself, it would have been another matter.

The n.o.bleman pondered a considerable length of time. Then he summoned his most trusted employee, the captain of the guard. "There will be another n.o.bleman in charge of this castle for a time," he told the man. "Thou must serve him during my absence as thou wouldst me, in all things but one. If he abuses my daughter, thou must kill him and flee for thy life. Because I cannot, of course, sanction the killing of a visiting n.o.bleman in my castle, thou must arrange to do it beyond these demesnes, perhaps as a hunting accident. Here is gold to enable thee to survive in a far country when thou dost flee." The n.o.bleman gave the captain enough gold to make him independently wealthy. "Agreed?" For such a directive could not be imposed; it had to be done for loyalty.

"Agreed, sire," the captain said grimly.

Then the n.o.bleman dictated a missive to his scribe. It stated that he had a pressing business excursion of some duration, and requested a n.o.ble to govern his castle and demesnes in his absence. He asked whether a particular young n.o.bleman of his acquaintance was available.

It was the n.o.bleman who had spent the night and ravished his daughter. A request of such nature could hardly be declined; there was a geis involved, an obligation of honor. More than the young n.o.bleman knew, perhaps. The man agreed, and in due course arrived with a limited entourage of one squire and one servant; he would, of course, avail himself of the local staff while here.

The host, having announced his incipient departure, delayed only long enough to greet the visitor and introduce him formally to his daughter. Teensa could not avoid it this time; she would be having meals with the visitor and would be under his protection for the duration. So, reluctantly, she got garbed and ready. She had not been informed of the ident.i.ty of the n.o.ble who was to be in charge; she knew only that she was required to defer to him as to her father. Such was the place of even highborn women in those days.

The host arranged it so that the two, visitor and daughter, first saw each other simultaneously, so positioned that the host could watch them both at this moment. "And this is my daughter, Teensa," he said, as she stepped around a screen and came face to face with the visitor.

Each recognized the other instantly. The girl froze in fear, while the man froze with horror. There was now no doubt: he was the one who had ravished her-and he had not known her ident.i.ty. It had indeed been an accident.

Then each recovered, true to training and breeding. She forced a polite smile and murmured something inconsequential. He nodded graciously and turned away, evincing no further interest. This was as it should be. Both were of n.o.ble birth; each knew when and how to keep a secret, and from whom. They were ironically united in this matter. Their lapses had been only momentary, but the host had caught them.

Now for the remainder of his plan. He turned over the keys to the castle, introduced the captain of the guard, and with his retinue departed the castle for the month. It was in other hands than his now.

Teensa was absolutely stricken. She thought her father had unwittingly brought in the very worst person for this job! Now the beast would be able to complete his ravishment and make an end of her, so that she could never tell-and she was powerless to prevent it. She retreated to her chambers and gave herself up for lost.

But when the time came for the evening repast, the n.o.bleman summoned her to the table. This was standard procedure, and she could not deny it. Her maid, knowledgeable in such things, a.s.sured her that it was best to follow the forms. She garbed herself appropriately and came down.

She was in terror of molestation, but the n.o.ble acted with perfect courtesy. The castle staff was impressed with his demeanor and his dialogue. He complimented her on her appearance, which was indeed outstanding; all that exquisite raiment could do for a woman, it did for her, evoking charms which had been barely apparent during her masquerade as a slops wench. The truth was that Teensa, stripped by circ.u.mstance of her self-abas.e.m.e.nt, was a lovely young woman.

Noticing that she had little appet.i.te, he said to her: "It may be that thou art ill at ease in the absence of thy father. I a.s.sure thee that I am here to protect thy interests as his, and no harm will come to thee while I am here, while I live. This is a matter of honor."

"My thanks to thee," she said, not one whit rea.s.sured. She knew full well that he did not consider rape to be harmful to a wench. Few men did, whether n.o.ble or ign.o.ble.

But to her amazement, it was so. The days pa.s.sed, and the man made no move to molest her. He treated her always with perfect courtesy. There was no peremptory knock at her chamber door at night. She became fascinated, in the manner of a captive bird, and even allowed herself to be alone with him at one point, though with an exit handy so she could flee. Noting their isolation, he said: "If I have given thee offense in any manner, I sorely repent it, and would make amends were it possible. But I fear it is not." Then he turned away, evidently troubled.

Astonished, Teensa retreated to her chamber and pondered. She realized that the n.o.ble could not speak openly of what had pa.s.sed between them, for that would be a confession of a crime that would require blood to amend. Yet he had in his fashion apologized. She realized further that he had not known her ident.i.ty when he ravished her, and was now in an extremely awkward position because of it. It seemed that if she did not speak of it, neither would he, for it could not with honor be spoken of. It hadn't happened, as far as the castle was concerned.

Yet it had happened, and there would be an ugly reckoning at such time as her father married her to another n.o.ble. Her secret could be carried only through the ceremony; the moment she proffered herself for her wifely duty, her husband would discover that she was not chaste, and would be outraged. He would have the marriage annulled, and she would be condemned, and unbearable shame would be visited on her father. Rather than bring that horror upon him, she would take poison before the ceremony. This was the true measure of what the visiting n.o.bleman had taken from her: her married life.

The life of the castle continued. Now less fearful, Teensa observed the n.o.ble more closely. He was a great bear of a man, enormously powerful physically, yet he was n.o.ble, and possessed the manners of his office. He was also a competent administrator, seeking advice when he needed it, so that the management of the demesnes was satisfactory. She was seeing another side of him.

Then an army advanced into the region. It was a Gothic marauding party, out to ravish the land and take spoils. This could not be tolerated.

The n.o.ble summoned Teensa and the captain of the guard. "Have we resources to turn back this ill tide?" he inquired of the captain.

"No, sire. At best we can defend the castle, for they lack siege equipment. They will depart in time, but the lands will be laid waste and the peasants savaged."

The n.o.ble turned to Teensa. "What would thy father do in such case?"

"He would offer tribute," she said, flattered despite herself that she should be asked. "He would say it was cheaper than the alternative, though it made him wroth."

"I will do as they father would, this being his estate," he said. "Though it makes me wroth too."

Then he sent out a party with the offer. In due course it returned with the Goth chiefs answer. "All thy gold and grain, and thy fair daughter for my plaything." They were not aware that a visiting n.o.ble was in charge.

The n.o.ble pondered. "The gold and grain they would take anyway, in war, or the equivalent," he said. "But a n.o.ble woman is no plaything. I will not accede to this."

"But if they ravish the lands-" Teensa protested, knowing well that he knew she, already ravished, was of little worth anyway.

"Make them this counteroffer," he said to the leader of the negotiation party. "I will meet their champion in single combat. If he wins, the castle gates will be opened to them. If I win, they will depart without warring on us."

The party departed. The n.o.ble turned to Teensa. "Disguise thyself and hide during the combat. They must not know thy ident.i.ty. Thou canst then escape with the peasants, if the gates are opened."

"But-" she protested, aghast.

"I owe it thee."

She realized that he actually intended to do it. He was going to risk his life to spare her humiliation, though he knew that she had no virtue remaining to defend. Such was the requirement of his code of honor, which she had not properly appreciated before.

The party returned. The Goth chief had agreed. There was nothing the Goths appreciated so much as a good fight, and it was certainly an easier way to settle matters than a siege.

The n.o.ble girt himself and rode out on his fine horse with only his squire in attendance. He trusted the honor of the Goths. They would not be able to hold their heads up among their own kind if they ma.s.sacred a single knight after agreeing to individual combat. Indeed, their wagers were being laid out; they were genuinely enthusiastic about this spectacle.

Teensa watched from the ramparts, terrified. She realized that if the n.o.ble lost, the castle would not even be defended, and there would be horrible ransacking and rapine. But if he won, all would be salvaged, and the disaster that had seemed unavoidable would be avoided. It was a brave and bold thing the n.o.ble was doing.

The opposing horseman approached. The Goths were proud of their horsemanship; they had defeated the Romans because of it, and were the terror of the open ranges because of it. It was hard to see details, but the motions of the horses as they spun about each other were clear enough.

Light flashed. It was the reflection of the sunlight from moving steel. Now they were at swords, striking from their steeds. Then one steed went down. It was the Goth's horse!

But immediately the other rider dismounted and pursued the fray afoot. Strike and counterstrike. Teensa hardly dared look, but could not avert her gaze-and saw little anyway. There was too much dust.

At last one warrior fell, and the other stood. Who had won?

Then the standing one was helped to his steed, and rode toward the castle. It was the n.o.ble! They had been saved! Something snapped in Teensa then, and she was so relieved she wept.

The n.o.ble had indeed won. The Goths respected a valiant winner, and though they could not applaud an enemy, they let him depart unmolested. They packed up and moved away, hardly marauding at all. They really didn't have to; there were other estates close by, so they could keep their word and honor at little inconvenience. The castle and lands had indeed been spared.

But then news came that the n.o.ble was injured. The Goth champion, outhorsed, had been a veritable tiger afoot, and had slashed away the n.o.ble's armor and part of his left shoulder before being killed by the terrible counterstroke. The n.o.ble had kept his feet and made it to his horse, holding his head high, and the Goths had respected his courage even more. But he was grievously wounded.

Teensa came to him. "I am versed in healing," she said, and indeed she was, for she had tended her father's injured servants many times. She washed and bandaged the shoulder, and sat beside the n.o.ble in the dark hours while the fever took him, and held his hand when he cried out with the hallucinations of that fever. It was a long vigil, but in time, thanks to her ministrations, he recovered.

He slept long, and at last awakened. He found her there beside him. "Thou hadst no need to do this," he said.

"Thou didst save my father's possessions, and his honor," she said. For had she been made the plaything of the Goth chief, her father would never have survived the shame. "I owed thee."

"Nay, I owed thee! That was why I did it."

"Then mayhap we are even," she said, turning her eyes demurely down.

"We can never be even," he said. "But I would do anything for thy forgiveness for that of which I cannot speak."

"Why?" She was genuinely curious; but more than that, certain things he had uttered during his fever-madness had surprised her and provided her an astonishing hope. Should he repeat the like in this hour of his sanity- "Thou art fair. I knew thee not, but now I do."

That was the verge of it. Her heart fluttered. "I forgive thee."

He extended his hand, and she took it. "I would marry thee, if thou couldst trust me that far."

And that was the whole of it.

"Aye." Then she leaned over the bed and kissed him.

When her father returned, the castle was in good order, and the visiting n.o.ble was recovering from his wound. After the initial ceremonies, the visiting n.o.ble and Teensa approached her father. "I have been indiscreet with thy daughter, and would marry her, that her honor be never in question," the visitor said.

The n.o.bleman turned his gaze on his daughter, frowning. "Did this rogue force himself on thee?" he demanded.

"Nay, father. I love him, and would marry him." And with that half-lie she committed herself. She had protected his honor, and hers, in the manner expected of a wife.

"Then I am constrained to consent," her father said. Then he smiled. "In fact, I deem it an excellent match."

She hugged him, and he nodded. His ploy had succeeded in repairing damaged honor, just as the visiting n.o.ble's ploy had succeeded in saving the estate. This was the one man who would never challenge Teensa's chast.i.ty at the marriage bed. Indeed, he would draw his sword on any person who even hinted that she was anything but perfect. No one but the host n.o.bleman ever knew the whole of it-except perhaps Teensa's maid, who was wise in the ways of these things, and knew when to keep her mouth shut.

* 27 - THE STATION WAGON had pulled up and stopped, but the occupants did not get out. May waited a moment, then went there. Geode and none were within, and she was talking.

May approached, wondering what this was about. Then she caught on: none was telling another story!

"And so they were wed, and Teensa went to the n.o.ble's castle, and lived reasonably happily as such things went, and bore fine children, and learned to be less shy," none concluded. "All because she had kept her mouth shut and not been unduly influenced by her first impression."

"But why did the visiting n.o.ble treat her so well?" Geode asked, perplexed. "After what he had done-"

"He had done what a man did with a slops wench," she said. "But when he learned her true ident.i.ty, and her father put him in charge, he was honor-bound to serve the father's interest. It was part of the code of chivalry. So he did the best he could in an awkward situation. The father knew he would; it was the daughter who needed influencing."

Geode nodded. "We serve Mid like that."

Then they became aware of May, standing beside the car. "Oh-we're here!" none exclaimed, surprised.

"I wish I had been able to hear it all," May said. "I did enjoy your story yesterday."

"Oh, May, we came to tell you-you don't have to stay here anymore!" none exclaimed. "Mid said you could come to the house!"

But May shook her head. "Thank you, none. But I think this is something I have to do."

"But the monster-it runs three days between feedings, and this is the third day! Tonight it will come!"

"Yes, I suspect it will. But Cyrano is alert for it, and we need to catch it. If I can help by luring it in, that is what I must do."

"Then I will stay with you, so that one person will always be awake!"

"No, none. You have lost too much already. It is my turn. I will be alert."

"But I am doomed anyway! I should be the bait!"

"Doomed? We shall not let you suffer further, none. Go with Geode, tell him another story; I will be all right."

The woman looked troubled, but let it be. "You are a dragonfly, bold where I am afraid."

"A dragonfly! How nice! But I am simply doing what I must; I am not bold." Indeed, she reflected with horror on her inability to oppose her brute husband, even after three years on her own. How spineless could a person get?

So they left, reluctantly, and May was alone again. It was the way she preferred it, for now, until she recovered from her injuries and could show her face in public again. She did not relish another night alone here, but this was indeed their best chance to catch the firefly, and that was what they were here for.

Yet there was now another aspect, which had caught her completely unprepared. Frank Tishner had expressed interest in her. She knew that his marriage was in trouble; his wife had said that. It seemed likely that by the time the monster was dealt with, Frank would lose his job, because Mid's agenda would conflict with the needs of the local county. When Frank lost his job, he lost his wife; that much had been established.

She had not considered Frank as a prospect. Indeed, she had had no serious interest in any future liaison with a man; her experience with Bull had cured her of that sort of thing. Yet now that the subject had been, however inadvertently, broached, she found herself interested.