“I fear I am not well,” Concordia said, her hand covering her mouth as she ran to the bed chamber, retching uncontrollably while searching for a basin.
Yara understood Concordia’s misgivings and did not follow her, waiting instead for Thayer’s return with the Christian priest. She busied herself to pass the time, lighting additional candles to brighten the main room and covered a table with a light blue cloth upon which she placed two cups embellished with precious gems. Yara shook her head when she noticed the wine flask was completely filled and the food tray untouched. She would have spoken to Concordia had not Thayer returned with the priest.
“You were told to have her ready,” Thayer told Yara coldly.
“She is dressed but is unwell, and rests in her chambers,” Yara replied. “Perhaps the priest might be of help?”
“See to her,” Thayer said to the priest who obeyed the command without hesitation.
While the priest ministered to Concordia’s spiritual needs, Thayer led Yara into the library where his words would not be overheard.
“Place this sleeping potion in her bridal cup when we are professing our vows,” Thayer whispered, placing a vial into her palm and ignoring her questioning glance.
“You will not consummate your union?”
“Remember your place lest I have your tongue removed.”
“My place is to serve you, and to advise you when your thoughts are clouded,” Yara grinned. ‘Have you forgotten I am the only one you can truly trust?”
“I must leave with the priest immediately after the ceremony. You will stay with my wife until she sleeps, then wait for me in our usual place. Nadia is suspicious, which is why Chad left so suddenly. She saw the necklace.”
“Is it wise to leave Concordia unguarded? If Nadia should come upon your wife, it will not be a harmless potion she drinks.”
“Which is why I need time to plan, but we will speak more of this later. Come, let us get this over with...Nadia expects me within the hour.”
Yara followed Thayer into the main room and was not surprised that Concordia had yet to present herself.
“Bring her and that priest here, now!” Thayer said angrily.
Yara hurried into the bedchamber, not knowing she interrupted Concordia’s confession. She pitied the young woman as she glanced upon her tear-streaked face, her eyes depicting her torment.
“We must start the ceremony,” Yara whispered apologetically.
The priest nodded and blessed Concordia before he joined Thayer. Yara approached Concordia slowly, drying her eyes while whispering hopeful words. She straightened Concordia’s dress, pinning the loose strands of hair before placing the veil upon her head. She led Concordia into the room, placing her hand upon Thayer’s proffered arm.
“I will prepare the toasting cups,” Yara told the uneasy priest before heading towards the table.
Concordia was numb as she listened to the holy words, her thoughts returning to the day she and Brantson were wed, yet chastising herself still for denying him the nuptial bed. Her guilt should have been assuaged since the priest had heard her confession and had forgiven her sins, cleansing her soul. She was grateful for the veil, which hid her face, swollen from weeping overmuch. She wanted to believe she was dreaming and would soon wake in the arms of Brantson, but the man beside her was real, a husband she must obey.
The priest hurried through the brief ceremony, which he only agreed to perform to prevent a Christian woman from being defiled. He was uneasy when he repeated the holy words that sanctified the union, keeping his eyes lowered when Thayer removed Concordia’s veil and kissed her lips.
“All will be set right,” Thayer whispered. “You have my word.”
Yara handed Concordia the bridal cup, encouraging her to finish the wine quickly to alleviate her anxiety before leading her to the bedchamber to await her husband.
“My man will see to your safe return,” Thayer told the priest as they left Chad’s quarters.
The priest held his tongue when Thayer locked the door, walking silently behind the man who was feared by his people, grateful he had not suffered a martyr’s fate. He waited patiently while Thayer spoke with his personal guard, wondering how this man had discovered his whereabouts, wondering if he had been betrayed.
“Your orders?” Sharif asked softly.
“Silence him,” Thayer replied as he walked away.
While Sharif was leading the unsuspecting priest to his fate, Yara consoled Concordia as she anxiously awaited her husband. Yara was gentle when she replaced the silken dress with a long sheer gown, its beautiful elegance enhancing desire. She combed Concordia’s long tresses, arranging her hair loosely around her shoulders and pinching Concordia’s cheeks until her face reddened.
“Rest until Thayer returns,” Yara said as Concordia laid upon the bed, pulling the bedcover over her shoulders. “I will wait with you.”
It did not take long for the sleeping potion to take effect, and once Yara was satisfied that Concordia was deeply asleep, she left Chad’s quarters, taking care not to be seen as she headed toward the stables where Thayer waited, already mounted upon his stallion. He lifted her onto his horse, kicked his heels into the animal’s sides and galloped along the coastal road, not stopping until they reached a secluded beach. Thayer dismounted quickly while Yara slid off the horse and ran into the gently breaking waves, her laughter a welcome respite from the despair she had just witnessed.
“Come, the sea is warm,” Yara teased, splashing Thayer who stood perilously close to the water’s edge.
Thayer removed his boots and outer clothing before he dove into the sea while Yara jumped through the waves, screaming with perceived terror when Thayer grasped her legs and pulled her under. For one precious hour Thayer and Yara enjoyed a brief interlude from the treachery that surrounded them, protected by a common bond shared since childhood. They were laughing as they fell upon the sand dripping wet while Yara’s tangled hair fluttered in the wind.
“You should just return Concordia to her people,” Yara told him, basking in the sunlight while drying her clothing.
“I cannot trust her to keep her tongue,” Thayer replied, laying beside her on the warm sand.
“She knows then...about the raids?”
“Not only about the raids but the identity of the leader.”
“She saw through Chad’s ruse...impressive,” Yara said thoughtfully, “but she is still no match for Nadia, and once she learns you have taken a wife, I fear...”
“Nadia will never know,” Thayer interrupted. “Besides without witnesses, the ceremony can never be proven.”
“Dare I ask the fate of the priest?”
“I think you already know his fate.”
Yara placed her hands beneath her head, closing her eyes as the sea mist caressed her face, waiting silently while Thayer formulated a plan that would not destroy them all.
Chapter Sixteen
Concordia was overly anxious, awaking from a drug-induced sleep bewildered and uneasy as she glanced about the empty bedchamber. She sat up slowly, placing her hand upon the undisturbed coverings while trying to remember, yet knowing instinctively Thayer had not shared her bed. Instead of being offended because their union was not consummated, she was quite frankly, relieved, a truth she found unsettling. Brantson was right, she had been in love with the dream and not the man; but this admission had come too late, Brantson was dead and her life was in peril.
It was difficult to discern the time of day in the candle-lit room as Concordia searched for her clothing, becoming discouraged when she opened a chest filled with dresses made of the finest silk.
“At least you cannot see through the material,” Concordia said under her breath while selecting a blue garment to match the colorful sea.
Concordia dressed quickly, but her head throbbed and she felt nauseous as she walked towards the door, which remained locked. She approached the table where food and drink awaited, filling a cup with cool water while wondering
when Yara would return. She sipped the refreshing liquid as she headed towards the portico, finding the stagnant air stifling as she glanced upon the shuttered windows, yet another reminder of her captivity.
Instead of greeting the morning sun, Concordia looked upon a full moon, which frightened her. She realized she had been given a sleeping potion, but for what reason? And how many days had she slept? She moved backward, seeking a bench as her knees buckled beneath her. She sat unsteadily upon the cushioned wood, believing her imprisonment to be short-lived, fearing the assassin yet welcoming death. However, the gentle sea breeze was somehow comforting, soft whispers of a mother’s eternal love, faded memories rekindled, hope renewed.
“Do not let your heart cloud your judgment,” said the wind. “Do what you must until you are rescued.”
“Mother, I feel your presence,” Concordia murmured tearfully. “I need your counsel...do not leave me.”
But the wind was once again silent as Concordia wept. The mellow sound of the roaring surf provided little solace on such a troubling night, yet the coddled young girl was becoming wise. Once Concordia accepted her dilemma, she calmed down, her intuitive mind planning her escape. She no longer thought of love, the man she truly loved was dead. Her femininity would prove useful, especially since Thayer had professed his love. It would not be difficult to gain his trust, but Yara might not be so easily deceived.
As the night wore on, Concordia remained in the shadows, watching the landscape for any sign of movement, not only upon the land but upon the distant sea. She wondered how many paths led to the beach, and how many secluded coves dotted the coastline. She cautiously peered over the ledge, hoping to jump to freedom, but was disappointed because she probably would not survive the fall, yet becoming hopeful when she heard muffled voices below.
“I must find the entrance to the room beneath me,” Concordia thought as she tried to discern the words, controlling her frustration because she had not learned anything, especially since she was once again alone in the quiet night.
Concordia returned to her bedchamber, not changing her clothing as she lay upon the bed. She pulled the covering over her shoulders, hoping she might sleep. She glanced at the ceiling, her heart pounding as she embraced deception and treachery. She would go home, with or without Thayer’s help, being willing to lose her life in the attempt rather than live enslaved for the remainder of her years. She would need to learn the terrain and hoped Yara might be persuaded to walk with her about the grounds once Thayer acknowledged her presence. She would also seek the priest, knowing him trustworthy. She could wear the veil, a safe disguise while traveling once she left these parts, unless Chad returned to claim her for himself. Concordia admonished herself for thinking such a thought since Chad loved no one but himself. Besides, she could not live in this land, even if Chad made her his wife, and Chad would never remain in Britannia, nor would he give up his adventurous life. She had been too trusting, but she would not be fooled again, vowing never to permit her heart to rule her head.
“Brantson, you are sorely missed,” Concordia whispered as her eyelids closed slowly.
Concordia slept restlessly, being grateful her bed was not shared. She was not aware she cried out during the early morning hours, begging forgiveness for her past sins and sins yet to be committed. She was sweating profusely when she sat up suddenly, unnerved by her dreams, her body trembling.
“Breathe deeply,” Concordia told herself. “All will be set right, trust in God.”
The sound of the key turning in the lock was alarming since she feared Thayer’s return. She was not ready to face him because she had yet to learn how to hide her true feelings. She prayed it was Yara bringing refreshments and was relieved when she heard a tray being placed upon the table.
“Yara, is that you?”
“I trust you slept well?” Yara replied while arranging the food-filled bowls and filling a cup with water.
“How many days did I sleep?” Concordia asked while entering the main room fully dressed.
“Two.”
“Thank you for being forthcoming,” Concordia replied kindly as she beckoned Yara to join her at the table. “I trust the food and water are not tainted?”
Yara hid her discomfiture, keeping her head lowered lest her eyes depicted her true feelings. She did not hesitate eating tiny morsels of the morning meal or taking a sip of water before handing Concordia the cup.
“I know you are not at fault,” Concordia said, satisfying her ravenous thirst by emptying the cup in one swallow, “but I would know why.”
“I cannot...I would be severely punished.”
“Whatever words are spoken between us will never be revealed...you have my word,” Concordia whispered. “But test me. What confidence would you have me share?”
“Would you ever betray my master?” Yara asked after much thought.
“Only if I was betrayed...have I been betrayed?”
The silence was deafening as Concordia awaited an answer. She watched Yara closely, noticing the slave’s moist eyes in spite of her stoicism, and waited patiently for a truthful reply.
“Yara, I beg you to trust me because I have chosen to trust you...and to prove my words I will admit a truth I have denied these many years. I told my father, and my king, that I wished to visit the great empires so I might discover the cities discussed in the classroom, but in truth, I wished to find Thayer, and men died because of my deception.”
“Your presence is a complication my master wishes to resolve, but there are difficulties. Chad enslaved you by right of conquest, but you were given to Thayer... a gift to placate a brother’s anger...a peace offering for a festering offense. If you were any other woman, you would have been ravished before joining the slaves who service my master, but if you were caught praying to your God, your life would be forfeit. That is the fate of captive women. The difficulty lies with Thayer because of his feelings for you. The woman my master is to wed would have your head should she discover the truth, but I do believe Nadia is already suspicious. Her spies are everywhere so you must trust no one.”
“Why not send me back to my father?”
“Thayer believes he is in love with you, which clouds his judgment. For this reason, he is in Valencia, speaking with his father, but I have said too much. If you betray me, I will be beaten.”
“I will never betray your trust,” Concordia told the worried slave. “I would have us friends, and I am pleased you were chosen to serve me. I also know I have much to learn about your customs, would you teach me your ways so I might please my husband?”
“Of course, and if there are foods you desire, I shall prepare the meals.”
“I do have some requests, if you are willing.”
Yara nodded.
“While the silk garments are elegant, I prefer wearing cloth and hope you might find something more suitable.”
“A woman of your station wears silk,” Yara interrupted.
“I would dress appropriately when in my husband’s presence, but to walk freely about the grounds requires discretion.”
“Would you have me disobey my master?”
“Your master is many miles away. What harm would it do to walk the grape farms or sit on the beach? I would obey you, and I promise not to escape. You have my word.”
“What you ask is...”
“Dangerous, and if we are discovered, we would be treated harshly,” Concordia interjected, “but I welcome the risk because I cannot stay another day locked away in these darkened quarters. I do not understand why we cannot open the shutters, or why I cannot be permitted to sit in the sunlight. There must be secluded gardens on the estate. Can you not help me?”
“If the windows are open, your words will be heard,” Yara replied, “is not the portico sufficient? Thayer would be displeased if he knew I shared this secret.”
“You fear Nadia, and her spies; am I right?”
“These quarters overlook the sea, and there are many paths that protect t
he men walking them, which is why Chad was given these quarters, but Nadia also meets her spies here.”
Concordia stood up abruptly, grasped Yara’s hand and led the startled woman into the library. She placed her finger over her lips, beckoning silence before opening the door to the concealed tunnel. Yara followed Concordia through the dimly-lit corridor, holding her tongue lest her voice was overhead.
When Concordia reached the entrance to the room overlooking the secluded gardens, she opened the door cautiously, peering across the deserted chamber while Yara glanced over her shoulder. Once Concordia was satisfied that they were truly alone, she and Yara walked through translucent sunbeams that danced upon the floor while vigorous wind gusts from the open windows swept the women’s hair about their faces. Concordia stepped upon the bench, breathing in the sea air as she looked upon the picturesque garden, the blooming flowers brightening her day as she gazed upon nature’s beauty. Her eyes sparkled when she noticed song birds flying atop the nearby trees, but her happiness was brief, and she jumped to the ground to face Yara.
“I have brought you here because I trust you not to betray me. I discovered this secret the day Chad left me locked in his chambers. I could have escaped, but I did not. I chose to remain because of the love I bear your master. I do not know how many surprises Chad’s quarters hold, but I dare say many, especially since Chad might need to flee the Caliph’s soldiers, and I wager the portico also is a means of escape. Nadia knows of this room, but I do not know if she has knowledge of the tunnel. I overheard her speaking in the garden; she was not aware she was seen. I have put my life in your hands. Do I have cause to fear my judgment? Is my trust misplaced?”
“Your trust is not misplaced, but we must not speak here, the danger is too great,” Yara whispered, embracing Concordia warmly before leading her to the tunnel.
The Briton and the Dane: Concordia Page 11