Return to Your Skin

by Luz Gabás

  Brianda told her everything, from the presence of the new general bailiff, Jayme of Cuyls, in Lubich to the announcement of the wedding between him and Elvira and the frustration of her own with Marquo. She related how she had felt the need to escape and how she had found Corso, whom she saved from the wolf.

  “I don’t know where he’s been or what he’s done,” Brianda said. “He only told me that he was in hell.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and remained in thought for a while. Her joy at finding Corso had made her forget her own situation. Her inheritance was in danger. How could she live at Lubich now, knowing Jayme’s plans? “I’m afraid my hell begins now—”

  Leonor handed her a towel. “You’re alive, you’re young, and you’re healthy. You’ll be fine.”

  She took the containers brought by her servant, Aldonsa, a white-haired woman with an unusually thick neck. Then Leonor cleaned the wolf bite with elder, thyme, and chamomile water; then she applied a poultice of wax, hollyhock, and walnut leaves, and bandaged it.

  “The man is also ready,” Aldonsa told her.

  Leonor waited until Brianda finished dressing. The three of them went up some wooden stairs to a large room with a view of the whole valley.

  Corso lay on a high bed with his eyes closed. They had dressed him in a long linen shirt with a large opening in the chest to expose his wound. Brianda could not take her eyes off him. She had felt his arms around her, but many times she had wondered what his limbs would be like without clothes, if he would have a lot or little hair, if his skin would be white or tanned. Now she had the chance to run her eyes over his body, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and what she saw made her whole body flush.

  “The wound has to be cleaned,” Leonor said, sitting down beside him.

  Brianda watched as Leonor began to wash him with the same mixture that she had used on her, but then she picked up a bowl with a different balm.

  “What is it?”

  “Madonna lily boiled in olive oil, field horsetail, and celandine,” answered Leonor, frowning.

  “What’s the matter?” Brianda became alarmed.

  “The bleeding won’t stop.”

  Aldonsa came over and exchanged looks with Leonor. Leonor nodded in agreement and the servant left. She soon returned with something light in her hands. She leaned over Corso and placed a sticky white substance on his wound.

  “Cobwebs!” exclaimed Brianda in amazement. “Where did you learn these remedies?”

  “Observing, like you are doing now,” answered Leonor. She smiled with relief when she saw the cobwebs were working. She gathered her things and stood up. “When he wakes, we’ll try and get him to eat.”

  “I’ll stay with him and let you know,” said Brianda.

  Once alone, Brianda sat down beside Corso and took his hand. She did not stop rubbing it until he began to regain consciousness. He stared at her with his dark eyes and smiled.

  “I only saved you once and you’ve done it twice in one afternoon. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this guardian angel.”

  “It was twice,” she reminded him. “You got me out of trouble when they wanted to whip Cecilia. Then you stopped me from falling over the precipice when I was so sick, and brought me to this very house. We’re even.”

  Corso looked around and recognized the place where he had lived as Nunilo’s most trusted man. He felt a stab of sadness in his chest remembering Nunilo’s death, his guilt in leaving him alone, and his fear of seeing Leonor again.

  “We’re in Anels House,” he murmured.

  “You’re in your own house, Corso.” Brianda leaned closer and squeezed his hand. “You are the new master of Anels.”

  She told him everything: how Aiscle was finally taken, about Medardo’s death, about Johan’s murder, and about new posts in the county. She repeated what she had told Leonor about the intentions of Elvira and Jayme of Cuyls, and about Marquo abandoning her.

  “I will lose Lubich,” she finished in a whisper. “And I won’t have anything.”

  Corso smiled strangely.

  “Didn’t you promise me that you wouldn’t marry Marquo? Beside the river, in the monastery in Besalduch. Then you told me to leave and pleaded with me to return. I promised you I would. Do you remember why?”

  Brianda nodded. He had told her she was his Lubich. She did not understand why Corso mentioned that now. His expression had changed when she had spoken about Marquo, and she felt she had to explain.

  “I waited for you day after day. A letter arrived from those who had survived. It said that the Moors had attacked you and that you fell at Surano’s side. I refused to believe you were dead, but months passed and Marquo insisted. What was I to do? If I had known you were still alive, I would have kept my word. Where did you go, damn you?”

  “They wounded me and left me for dead. The following day, I managed to get to Monzon. From then on, my memory is fuzzy, and I only know what happened thanks to young Azmet, who recognized my horse and connected it with you, who saved his friend Cecilia. I owe my life to Azmet. He looked after me when the monks in the hospital gave me up for dead on various occasions. Later, he warned me the king’s soldiers were looking for a man who caused and was witness to the battles with the Moors, and he helped me escape. If I had known the bloodbath we would cause, I’d never have gone.”

  He gritted his teeth as he remembered the fierce attack launched against that town, the unnecessary cruelty in the taking of the houses, the images of men like Surano snatching children from their mothers’ arms, swinging them by the feet and hitting their heads against the walls while he just fought to stay alive; the dead bodies and the blood in the streets, the square, and the church; the vengeance that befell them while they were dividing up the spoils that night, hiding in caves in the hills; the confusion and flight of some men; the look in Surano’s eyes an instant before falling dead beside him.

  “My only obsession was to regain the strength to get back to these mountains to find you, Brianda. I never gave up. Never.”

  She hung her head, ashamed that she had lost faith. Corso tried to sit up and his face twisted in pain.

  “You don’t know how happy it makes me to be the master of this house and not a soldier at somebody’s orders, unworthy of the true heiress to Lubich, abandoned by her betrothed, who only appreciated her for her estate—”

  Brianda made to move away, but he gripped her wrist firmly.

  “How many times did you tell me, Brianda, that to marry well was your duty? Well, now, finally, you have no other choice but to marry me.”

  31.

  Brianda thought that God was testing her strength, subjecting her to so many emotions in just one day.

  “Marry you!” she happily repeated.

  The door opened, and Leonor appeared carrying a tray with a steaming dish. Her eyes met Corso’s, and she knew that Brianda had told him about his new role as master of Anels. She went to him and said, “Managing the property that was once my husband’s requires a lot of strength. It will take a while to get your health back, so the sooner you start to eat the better.”

  “I know I’m in good hands,” Corso replied, relieved she did not blame him for Nunilo’s death. “And I also know that my first task as master of Anels would please Nunilo.” He took Brianda’s hand and announced, “I wish to marry Brianda. As soon as possible. This very day if I could. And I would like your blessing.”

  Leonor raised an eyebrow. So, her impression had been right.

  “I’m not surprised by your desire, rather by your haste, Corso. Both of you have my approval, but you need another’s—”

  “I have no intention of asking my mother,” said Brianda. “Did she consult me about her own plans? It will be enough that she finds out after the event.”

  Leonor shook her head.

  “It will take days before Corso can get to the church. I don’t know how to justify your absence from Lubich.”

  Corso smiled and said, “Call the abb
ot and offer him a generous donation for bringing his services here.”

  The following morning, Leonor sent one of her servants to Besalduch, requesting the presence of Abbot Bartholomeu in Anels House to perform the sacrament of extreme unction on a dying man.

  In her room, Brianda finished getting dressed. Her wedding would not be the expected one for the daughter of Johan of Lubich. She would wear a skirt and bodice lent to her by Leonor. There would be no guests or banquet. She would not walk down the aisle on her father’s arm. And yet, she could not feel luckier. In a few hours, she would be the wife of Corso of Anels. Everything had happened so fast, she felt dizzy. The abbot’s blessing would join them forever. She repeated this last word several times as she fixed a small decoration of dried flowers in her hair. She missed her edelweiss pendant, but at least she had Johan’s ring.

  Some voices got her attention. She peeked out the window and recognized two servants from Lubich, as well as Cecilia, who was talking to Aldonsa and gesticulating nervously. Aldonsa led her inside and Brianda went down to calm her servant.

  In the kitchen, Cecilia hugged her tightly.

  “Mistress Elvira sent me to look for you. We were very worried until we got news you were here.”

  “You can see I’m fine. Go back to Lubich and tell my mother that I’ll be staying here for a few days to keep Leonor company.”

  Cecilia fidgeted with her hands.

  “Your mother has insisted that we don’t come back without you. She told me to remind you that a few months remain before the mourning period for your father ends, and that you must observe honesty in your conduct and a life of retreat as corresponds to your condition.”

  Brianda answered with a sarcastic tone. “Tell her I am pleased she knows the obligations more befitting of a widow but not to wait for me today.”

  “She has threatened to remove me if I don’t bring you back.” Cecilia gave her a pleading look. “This very day.”

  “Don’t worry, Cecilia, that won’t happen. I can’t say any more to you, but soon you will have to prepare my wardrobe and yours. Go on, be off with you.”

  Brianda accompanied Cecilia to the yard and waited for her to get on her mule and leave. In the distance, she saw another rider, his head covered in a hood, and her excitement increased as she recognized the abbot. She went looking for Leonor, whom she found coming down the stairs with the apothecary, and who asked her to wait in her room. There, Brianda opened the window and heard the departure of one and the arrival of the other.

  “I don’t think your presence is needed,” she heard the apothecary grumble to the abbot, “or mine. Last night they warned me that a man was dying, but it doesn’t look like it to me.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry,” Leonor hurriedly said, handing over some coins before addressing the abbot. “And it is always better to be prepared for the Lord’s final call.”

  Brianda waited impatiently at the door of her room. She heard voices in the hall and the door to Corso’s room opening and closing. Time passed. Finally, some steps approached. She flung open the door and saw a blushing Leonor.

  “At first he was reticent because of the strange situation and the rush. Corso told him that you had already lived as husband and wife and that, if the abbot denied you, the only thing he would achieve would be allowing you to continue to live in sin. But this was not what convinced him. Rather, I think he’s excited to get the better of Father Guillem.”

  Brianda felt herself go red, but made no comment. She followed Leonor into Corso’s room. She had not seen him since the previous night, and he met her with such an intense look that she trembled. He was lying on soft pillows and a thin sheet covered his legs. They had shaved his beard, gathered up his hair with a fine leather strip, and changed his shirt for a clean one, over which he wore a black jerkin. Vitality had returned to his body. Although healing would still take time, this was the Corso she had remembered during the long nights of separation.

  The abbot asked her to place herself at Corso’s bedside, and he began the ceremony.

  “Given that the banns of marriage have not been publicly displayed on three consecutive Sundays to give members of the community the opportunity to contest this marriage, I will have to trust the word of Leonor, who will sign as witness. You have no kinship to the fourth degree, so there is no need for dispensation from the Pope or the bishop.” He looked at Brianda. “You are not a victim of abduction, and you have not taken previous religious vows. Regarding the consent of the family, I will leave those consequences to yourselves. Have you got the rings?”

  Brianda quickly took off her father’s ring and gave it to the abbot, but realized she had none for Corso. Leonor went out and returned quickly. She placed a well-worked gold ring beside the other in Bartholomeu’s hand.

  “It was Nunilo’s,” she said, looking at Corso. “Now you must wear it.”

  The abbot mumbled a quick blessing over the rings and gave Corso the one he should put on Brianda’s finger.

  In a deep voice, and staring into her eyes, Corso repeated the abbot’s words: “Brianda, with this ring, I thee wed. With this body, I thee honor and share with thee all my worldly goods.”

  Brianda took the other ring from the abbot, and, at the same time she said the vows, she swore to herself that her body and her soul would adore him. When she got to the last part of the vows, however, she could not prevent a shadow from clouding her gaze. For the moment, she had no goods to bring to the marriage.

  Corso squeezed her hand and whispered, “You are the only riches I desire.”

  The abbot reminded them that they should live together in the sacred state of matrimony as ordained by God, loving each other, honoring each other, and keeping each other in sickness and in health and forsaking all others until death parted them. He raised his hands and gave them a final blessing.

  “O Lord, aid Your servants who place their hope in Thee. Send them the aid of Thy sanctuary and forever help them. Be their tower of strength in the midst of their enemies. O Lord, hear our prayer and let our cry for help come unto Thee.”

  Corso and Brianda kept their hands joined until they had to sign the marriage contract. When she noticed Corso hesitating, Brianda realized that he did not know how to write, and she guided his hand so he could sign his name. Afterward, the abbot said his farewells. Before he left, they heard Leonor ask, “Will Father Guillem object to this marriage?”

  “He will show his disgust but will maintain its validity.” Bartholomeu raised his index finger to his nose. “Let him dare question my actions. My blessings are as effective as his.”

  Now alone, Corso put out his hand so that Brianda could lie down beside him and he embraced her.

  “We can’t consummate our marriage yet, but I promise I’ll soon be better. Meanwhile, I don’t intend to sleep a single night without your company. Tell the servants to make this room suitable for the both of us.”

  “The job is done.” Brianda laughed. “All my clothes are in Lubich.”

  “We’ll go for them as soon as I can ride. Then, we’ll see about getting your house back.”

  Brianda pressed against him. “This is my house now. Yours.”

  “No. I know you feel the same now as you did that day under the tower, when your father was still alive and you announced your wedding to Marquo. Away from Lubich you would die, you told me. Either Lubich disappears or you get it back. There is no other way for you to be fully yourself and fully with me.”

  Two days later, Brianda let Leonor know that she was taking a mule to Lubich for her things. Corso had asked her to wait until he was well enough to go with her, but she was eager to have her clothes and jewels, her trousseau, and the writing desk her father had given her. She also wanted to bring Cecilia as her personal servant.

  The sun blinded her as it reflected off the path that cold and sunny morning. The air was completely still. Not a sound came from the deserted fields on either side of the road. Like the lazy smoke coming from the
chimneys in Tiles, she had begun her journey slowly, enjoying the memory of Corso’s strong body next to hers at night, remembering the pleasure in his caresses without the hurry and fear of before. Just thinking about Corso’s hands on her skin sent a tremor through her, and she hoped the day would pass quickly so she could get back to his side. All her new happiness dissolved when she thought of Lubich. Then the feeling of rage over her mother’s behavior and her own desire not to give in returned. Perhaps God would punish her for her avarice, she thought. She loved Corso with all her heart, but she also had to get Lubich back for herself and her future children.

  Just after she took the fork toward the forests to the northeast, she spurred on the mule to speed up. She soon spotted the stone wall and tower of Lubich and, for the first time in her life, she felt neither joy nor safety but instead alarm, like a raven announcing tragedy with its cawing.

  She continued onward, wishing she’d listened to Corso and waited. How different everything would be if he rode by her side, she thought. Then, she could act with decisiveness and audacity. Maybe she could collect her things without having to see her mother. She wondered why everything had to change so quickly. What used to be her world had vanished. If only Johan were alive … But another thought imposed itself: if Johan were alive, she would not be Corso’s wife.

  The servants working in the yard recognized her immediately, and one of them came over to take charge of the mule, which he tied up beside some saddled horses. Brianda spoke to him as she always had, but the man, named Remon, replied reluctantly. Then Gisabel appeared at the door. After the death of her husband in that terrible incident that had taken Surano and his men to the lowlands in search of vengeance, the joy had disappeared from her face, but soon after giving birth to her child, she had accepted the advances of the widower Remon and regained her jovial and slightly bossy character.