Loving Lies

by Tina Donahue

  She pushed her concern aside and gave Fernando everything she could. Again, the proximity of the others heightened her pleasure and fueled his passion. The men’s voices drifted past, along with soft laughter, the wind’s hush, and her quiet mewls. Fernando aroused her in a slow, deliberate manner, not enough to bring completion while also being too much to endure.

  Each time someone passed within a short distance of the tent, he stopped stroking her cleft and nub, making her want more. When the footfalls faded, he’d begin anew. Through it all, he held her tightly against him, her back to his front, allowing no escape. When she finally reached her peak, he kept stroking until she had to press her face against her shoulder to muffle her ragged moans.

  Eventually, she quieted and his grip loosened. He lay on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. The glow of the fire penetrated the tent and softened the shadows, allowing her to watch Fernando sleep. It was a small pleasure circumstances would soon deny.

  She fought anguish. Her only hope now was in carrying his child, a son or daughter she would raise. If honor demanded she turn the child over to him and Sancha, who he would surely claim, Isabella would take the babe and flee.

  She snuggled closer, wanting to fill herself with his scent, needing his heat for comfort.

  He stirred. “Is that you, my queen?”

  Despite her coming tears, she couldn’t help but smile. “Who else?”

  “We should sleep.” Finishing his yawn, he drew her into his embrace. “All too soon we will quit this place.”

  And each other.

  * * * *

  The following morning, Pedro hurried to Isabella and returned the pup.

  “Diego.” She cradled the galgo to her breast and gave Pedro an appreciative smile. “You were too kind to watch him for me.”

  “It was a pleasure.”

  Fernando patted his brother’s arm. “Good. You can have him back when we make camp again.” He turned to Enrique who had joined them. “Did you pass a pleasant night?”

  “No. I had concerns. Quit holding the creature so tightly.” He frowned at Isabella. The pup whined again. “Come, give him to me.” He reached for the galgo. “I can see to his safety as you speak with your husband.”

  Fernando knocked Enrique’s hand away. “Quit giving my wife orders. The pup belongs to her. She would never harm it. However, I do fear for your sanity. What concerns caused you to lose sleep?”

  “Wait.” Isabella stood between the two men. “The fault is mine.”

  “Yours?” Fernando shook his head. “How?”

  Her heart raced. She turned to Enrique. “I need more time on the matter. I will see to it at eventide.”

  “See to what?” Fernando asked.

  “Tonight will also come and go,” Enrique said. “Then where will we be?”

  She tried to reason with him. “It has never been my intent to cause you more pain.”

  “Pain?” Fernando asked.

  Enrique faced her. “Delay causes more pain. See to the matter now.”

  Fernando grabbed her arm. “What matter?”

  “Go on.” Enrique stared at her. “Tell him.”

  She couldn’t.

  Fernando faced his brother. “Isabella is my wife, not yours. Do not give her another order.”

  “I take no offense.” She faced Enrique. “Nor will I be rushed. You will have the remedy at eventide.”

  “Remedy?” Fernando threw up his hands. “What remedy?”

  She averted her gaze. “The one I need to address.”

  “So it would seem.” Fernando made a face. “What remedy is—”

  She blurted, “It has to do with Sancha.”

  Fernando glanced at the priest, who’d awakened and was grunting loudly. “Enrique’s Sancha or yours?”

  “Hers,” Enrique said.

  Fernando still looked confused as he turned to Isabella and pressed his cheek to hers. “You said your sister knows about plants and herbs. Is that what this remedy concerns, healing an ailment?”

  “Only as the nuns would. She learned all she could under their guidance and does what she can to help those who fall ill and are in need.”

  “Like him?” Fernando inclined his head to Enrique as Pedro and Tomás joined them. He faced his brother. “You require a remedy to ease pain?”

  Pedro smacked Enrique’s arm. “What ails you?”

  Tomás leaned closer. “Besides old age?”

  Pedro looked concerned. “Enrique probably has the same rash as Papá, who is also old.” He regarded his brother’s body. “Where is your rash?”

  Tomás waved his hands in front of himself. “I beg of you—we beg of you, never reveal its location. It might be the plague.”

  “Enough,” Enrique said.

  Fernando touched Isabella’s arm. “Do you plan to prepare a poultice at eventide for Enrique? Did the nuns teach you the use of plants and herbs as they did Sancha?”

  “Again, this Sancha?” Tomás clamped Enrique on his shoulder. “So you do have a woman with that name.”

  “Quiet, fool.” Enrique knocked Tomás’s hand away.

  Fernando shook Isabella’s arm. “Answer me.”

  “Why do you hound me?”

  He stared. “Hound you?”

  “I will not be rushed. Will we never quit this camp? Will we be here forever?” She handed Enrique the squirming pup. “See to his safety; I will not interfere. But understand this, you will not interfere in what concerns me.”

  Before he or the others could retort, she ran inside the stand of olive trees, praying no one would come after her.

  The only sounds were leaves rustling and her panting.

  When she stopped to catch her breath, a noise came from behind. She squeezed her fists. “Do not hound me. Allow me some peace, Fernando.”

  “Not Fernando.”

  She turned at the sacerdote’s voice. The priest stopped. “It is only me, my child.”

  “Padre.” She looked past him to see if Fernando had followed. He hadn’t. She turned to the priest. “Forgive me for intruding upon you.”

  “No, no, no. It is I who intrudes upon you. You see, I was asked to find and console you.”

  She dug her nails into her palms. “Please return to camp and tell Fernando I will join him shortly.”

  “Enrique asked me to find you.” He stepped closer. “If you would only tell me what troubles you, I can offer guidance as to what you must do.”

  She glared. “Enrique sent you here to hound me?”

  “No, no, no.” He waved his plump hands while bouncing on his heels. “He merely thought—”

  “I know what he thinks.” She advanced until the priest was required to stop bouncing and had to step back. “He is not my husband. He does not rule me. I need no guidance. Please return to camp and let everyone know I want to depart.”

  The priest kept dancing back. “And if they ask when you will return for our departure, what should I tell them?”

  “I will not be swayed, I will not be interfered with, and I will not be rushed.”

  * * * *

  Upon her return, the camp was as quiet as a deathwatch, the men’s expressions cautious. Fernando kept his tongue, while Enrique averted his gaze, leaving his brother’s fate in her hands.

  The burden of her coming confession grew with each passing hour and every league that brought them closer to her papá’s castle. More than once, Fernando turned to her, yet he said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

  She couldn’t. At their midday stop, Isabella was so exhausted she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she awakened, Fernando and his younger brothers were off to the side conversing in lowered voices she wasn’t able to hear.

  The priest was about to pass until he noticed her watching. He made a wide circle around her blanket and continued on his journey.

  No one bothered her except for Diego. The pup wanted her attention and food, but
when Isabella gave him a slice of orange, the sweet scent caused her stomach to revolt.

  She forced down a swallow and lowered her head until the wave of nausea had passed. Weary, she was going to lie down when Fernando told the others it was time to depart.

  * * * *

  Isabella noticed little of the areas the group passed and didn’t listen to any of the men’s converse. Even Diego’s mournful whines failed to hold her attention for long. When the others reined in their horses, she worried they’d reached the castle a day earlier than planned. She felt hunted and lost as she looked around.

  The men were dismounting and preparing for camp.

  “Allow me.” Tomás took the pup from her and handed it to one of his men.

  “Allow me.” Pedro helped her to dismount.

  She searched for Fernando, wanting him. He and another man were putting up the tent. Fernando was clearly ignoring her.

  Pedro leaned closer. “Tell me what items you need for the poultice and how to mix them. I will take care of the matter for you.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. “Poultice?”

  “For Enrique. You must tell me how to cure his rash so his disposition improves.”

  Isabella laughed unexpectedly then lowered her head before she cried.

  “Do you want your husband?” Pedro asked.

  “It appears my husband no longer wants me.”

  “He upset you earlier and wants to avoid doing so now. Come, tell me what you need for the poultice.”

  She had no idea. “What I need I can find on my own.” She trudged toward the heavy growth bordering a part of the stream.

  “Allow me to accompany you.”

  Isabella stopped and looked over. “No. Stay where you are, please.”

  Pedro glanced past her to Fernando, who’d finished putting up the tent and was now gathering his bow and arrows. “Will you promise not to go too far? And to remain in my sight at all times?”

  “I give you my oath.”

  He nodded reluctantly.

  Isabella searched bushes of unknown origin for healing materials she had no idea how to use. She sighed at the absurdity of it.

  “Is all well?” Pedro called.

  She looked over and nodded.

  He paced until one of the men joined him. With his attention torn between her and the caballero, she plodded deeper within the bushes, worried anew about tonight’s confession to Fernando. Once he learned the truth, he might send her back to the stronghold, holding her there until he knew whether she’d conceived. If she had, he might keep her at Enrique’s estate until she birthed the child then give the babe to Sancha. As her sister and Fernando raised the little boy or girl, Fernando might never allow Isabella to see her own child.

  Heartsick, she walked and walked, at last sinking to the ground as she prayed Fernando would never be so cruel, even if she’d driven him to it. She lowered her head to her knees and tried to push those painful thoughts away, yet they still tormented her.

  * * * *

  The hunt wasn’t as fruitful tonight. Fernando tossed a rabbit to the man who’d prepare it then glanced around the camp. Enrique was off by himself, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed. His expression said he was deep in thought on a matter that troubled him.

  Fernando recalled the odd converse between Enrique and Isabella, the mention of her sister Sancha. The name Enrique had used to address Isabella when they first met. A girl Tomás and Pedro thought Enrique was in love with, while he denied such a thing.

  Fernando frowned, uncertain whether Enrique was in love, ill, or both.

  Tomás was engaged in a game of dice with some of his men. Pedro conversed with another caballero. Beyond them, the fire blazed.

  Fernando checked the tent, surprised to find it empty. He searched the camp, at last stepping between Pedro and the other man. “Where is she?”

  After glancing at the heavy growth near the edge of the stream, Pedro turned a complete circle, searching the camp for Isabella. “Your tent?”

  “No. Where did you last see her?”

  “She was near the bushes.” Pedro gestured at them. “She promised not to leave my sight.”

  “And yet you allowed her to do so.”

  Before Pedro could answer, Fernando pushed past him and shouted Isabella’s name as he searched the bushes. The wind whistled in answer. “Isabella!”

  She didn’t respond.

  Fernando rushed to the fire and was lighting a torch when Tomás ran up. “Is Isabella missing?”

  Pedro pointed at the bushes. “She was over there a moment before.”

  “Does she know how to swim?” Tomás lit a torch for himself. “Could she be bathing?”

  Enrique joined them. “In the dark?”

  “This is your doing.” Fernando pointed his finger at his eldest brother.

  Enrique withdrew a step. “Mine?”

  “Isabella has feared you from the moment you came on the scene. What are you threatening her with?”

  “Nothing, Fernando. You must believe me.”

  “Get away.” He shrugged off Enrique’s touch and turned to Tomás. “I want you and your men to help me search.” Fernando gestured to Pedro. “You, remain here.” He inclined his head toward Enrique. “Make certain he does the same.”

  Enrique sighed. “Fernando.”

  Ignoring him, Fernando returned to where Pedro had last seen Isabella. The other knights fanned out. Men shouted her name repeatedly, yet she didn’t respond.

  Fernando fought panic, knowing what might happen to a woman in the dark when water, animals, and men could turn dangerous. He thought back to this evening’s hunt. Surely, one of the arrows meant for a rabbit couldn’t have harmed her.

  “Isabella.” He waited for her answer.

  Nothing.

  His stomach churned. He glanced around the torch-lit area, then turned a full circle and listened to the stream’s flow beneath the others’ shouts. He turned to the right. The mud at this part of the bank was undisturbed. To the left, a shadowed object stuck out near the base of a bush. He lifted his torch and inched closer, spying the edge of Isabella’s gown.

  His mouth went so dry he was unable to speak. She had to be well. She couldn’t be…

  Fernando sank to knees at her side, at last seeing her breathing was even, eyes closed. When he touched her shoulder, she didn’t move. Finally, he shook her.

  She stirred and looked at him through hooded eyes. “Fernando?”

  He lowered his head and breathed hard while the others shouted her name. He called out, “I found her. Unharmed.”

  Isabella pushed to her elbows and stared at her surroundings, seemingly confused as to how she’d come to be here.

  He clenched his jaw. “What happened? Why are you on the ground?”

  She shrank from him. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “As you hid? Did you plan to hide here then run away to the northern lands or to Portugal or France?”

  Tomás ran up. “What goes on?”

  Fernando looked at his brother. “Return to the fire. Take the others with you.”

  He turned back to Isabella. “Answer me. Why do you fear Enrique? Have you asked him to deter this journey? Has he demanded you confess to me what you said?”

  “No.”

  “What a liar you are.”

  “Fernando, I speak the truth. I was weary and fell asleep. This journey troubles me. I fear what the morrow will bring. There is something I must tell you.”

  “No.” He pulled her to her feet, roughly escorting her to the tent. The others averted their gazes. “Inside.” He gave her a small shove. “Remain there.”

  “Will you join me?”

  “Miguel,” he called.

  He ran toward them, his gaze avoiding her.

  Fernando pointed to the area in front of the tent. “Stay here. See to my wife’s safety. No one is to come near this tent, n
or do I want her to leave it.”

  “Fernando.” She reached for his hand. “Please, we need to speak.”

  “The time has passed. There is naught I want to discuss with you.”

  Leaving her to Miguel, Fernando strode to the far side of the camp.

  * * * *

  He didn’t return to her.

  Isabella heard his voice only once as he and another man passed the tent, their words hurried and low. She sensed they were discussing Fernando’s plan to confront Don Rodrigo. The group would reach her papá's castle on the morrow. There, Fernando would learn of her deception from another, unless she told him first. Time had run out and now she prayed for the opportunity to confess.

  At dawn, she left the tent. Before she could go too far, Miguel blocked her. “Forgive me, but Fernando said for you to stay here.”

  “Allow me to pass. I need to speak to my husband.”

  Miguel noted Fernando’s approach. He stepped back and bowed slightly. “As you wish, señora.”

  Isabella hurried to Fernando. “We must speak at once.”

  “Pedro,” he called.

  She begged. “Please, you must listen.”

  Pedro ran up. “You wanted me?”

  “See to my wife as we quit this place.” He strode away.

  “Fernando.” She tried to follow but Pedro blocked her. Isabella stamped her foot. “Allow me to pass.”

  “Give him some time.”

  “There is none to give.”

  “All will be well once we reach the castle.”

  “I must speak to my husband before then.”

  “And you will. However, you must also give him some time. Trust me, I know my brother. Fernando will be far easier to deal with once we leave.”

  As everyone departed, Fernando rode next to the priest rather than Isabella. Tomás and Pedro pretended not to notice. Enrique, on the other hand, seized the moment to ride beside her.

  “There will be no midday stop,” he said. “We ride until we reach the castle.”

  Tomás made a face. “Nonsense. If Isabella needs to stop, we can do so.”

  “Fernando wants no pause in the journey.” Enrique turned back to her. “You need to speak with your husband now.”

  “Why?” Pedro asked.

  Enrique leveled his gaze on his younger brother. “This is a matter between Isabella and Fernando.” He turned to her. “Go on, ride to him.”