William broke their embrace just to look upon her again, into her deep brown eyes, her graceful face. He kissed her soft lips once and then again, and then harder, his longing strong and passionate.
They broke the kiss, and William put his forehead to hers, breathing heavily. It would have been easy to lose himself in her, but he wanted to make it last. He wanted to savour every moment now.
‘I missed you,’ Adriana whispered, ‘every day.’
William sighed and replied with a gentle kiss.
‘You have no idea what it feels like to see you again,’ she said as she parted from his lips and nuzzled her face under his chin. She slipped her hand under his coat, laying it on his chest. ‘It grows more difficult every time’ she continued sadly.
‘I know my love.’ He kissed her again. ‘I need to wash and change. I’m carrying many days of dust and sweat.’
‘I can see,’ Adriana smiled slyly.
William grinned. ‘I’ll take a bath,’ he said and ran his hand down her back.
‘You should shave as well,’ she said, and put a hand to his face.
III
William crossed the bedroom as the light outside began to fade. The room was rustic, with simple furniture arranged at the corners. Their only extravagance was a large four-poster bed William had purchased in Rome from a Greek carpenter. Above it to the right was a small mirror fixed to the wall.
He pulled on a loose-fitting cotton gown and laid his clothes on the chair by the mirror.
You look much younger after you shave,’ Adriana remarked from the doorway.
William looked over his shoulder fondly. She was smiling lovingly across to him, an intense expression in her eyes; she was dressed in a pale skirt and a blouse that was as rustic as the room.
‘Do you think?’ he replied and rubbed his face, The days of stubble having been removed by Adriana’s gentle hands and a sharp blade.
She nodded, and her eyes stayed on him longingly.
William looked into the mirror and saw she was right. He had undergone a transformation in a matter of hours. His skin was clean-shaven, and in the light of the candles nearby he looked youthful; almost as young as when they’d first met in Aosta.
Their glances were full of desire. Adriana wandered over to the other side of the bed. Her hands ran slowly over the posts as she moved to the opposite side. She wanted him, and William had wanted her for the last two hundred miles. He was wholly in love with her, and in those moments knew nothing but Adriana.
He watched as she unbuttoned her blouse, tracing her every movement as the buttons undid one by one. She then slipped off the blouse, revealing her breasts until she was naked at the waist.
William felt his breath quicken, mesmerized as she now untied her hair, The long dark curls falling down her shoulders, spilling over to lie on her bosom. He found it was the hair he looked at the most, not the dark rings of her nipples, the curve of the breasts as she bent to unbutton her skirt. It slipped off slowly with her undergarments until she stood naked before him.
He made love to Adriana tenderly, a far cry from when they we re first intimate seven years before. William had been clumsy then, oafish and inexperienced, butAdriana had taught him progressively, not embarrassing him but encouraging his affection, requesting the lightest of touches, the fullest embraces and finally the act of gradual love, which that evening was a feat even for William. He was sure he’d explode from her very touch, but stayed the course until he felt her peak with ecstasy and then came himself, pleasure and relief in equal waves.
Afterwards they lay in bed, the sheets draped over their cooling bodies, her head resting on his chest, and he ran his fingers through her thick black hair.
‘Will there be celebrations?’ Adriana asked.
‘Aren’t there always?’ William replied, his eyes on the ceiling. Adriana had dusted recently, and the winter cobwebs had been brushed away.
‘I thought you might have returned quietly,’ she said.
‘I did my best,’ William lied. ‘Lucio’s wife saw us.’
‘Ah,’ Adriana laughed without much humour. ‘A baker’s gossip for certain. Everyone must know by now you have returned. They’ll be expecting you.’ She raised her head from his chest to look up at him with sadness, then lowered her chin on his breast. ‘Won’t they?’
‘They’ll be expecting both of us,’ William replied. ‘Who am I, without you?’
‘You’re the hero of Villeda,’ she replied, but it was rueful.
‘I thought I was the hero of Llerena?’ William teased.
‘That was last time,’ Adriana replied coldly and sat up, pulling up the sheets to cover herself.
‘What’s wrong?’ William asked, but knew straight away.
‘I have barely seen you, and now I must share you again,’ she complained.
‘For a small part of the night only, my beautiful Adriana,’ William said, reaching for her.
Adriana slapped the hand away playfully. ‘Just another night? And then when do you leave again?’
William laughed. ‘There are no missions yet,’ he told her. ‘I am here in Villeda, with you. I am home.’
She regarded him for a moment and then dived under his arms, wrapping her own around his torso. ‘That pleases me,’ she whispered.
William kissed her forehead. ‘I thought you liked the celebrations,’ he said.
‘Not as much as I like having you to myself,’ She replied.
After a while, When the first of the crickets began chirping in the crops, William hugged Adriana again and then relaxed his grip to rise from the bed. Adriana leaned against one of the bedposts, the sheet about her.
William stood up and stretched, glancing back at her, and then again as he began to pull on his shirt.
‘Do we have to go so soon?’ she asked.
‘The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return,’ he said, buttoning his shirt. At the last button he paused and listened intently. ‘The villa is quieter than usual. Where is Marco?’
‘Staying at the Maldinis’,’ She replied.
‘Oh?’ William said, secretly pleased. Since he had rescued both Adriana and her nephew from Count Ordrane’s followers in Aosta, the boy had grown unruly, and was often in trouble, haunted by the memories of his parents’ violent deaths. Adriana did her best, but what he needed was a father-figure.
Despite wanting the best for Marco, William was realistic. How could he be such a figure to Marco when he spent most of his time on hazardous missions for the Church? Nor was he ready to be a father to Marco. He had only just got used to living with Adriana, and parenthood worried him, so the idea that someone else might try to drive a little discipline into Marco’s thick skull was appealing.
‘He’s farming for Tustio, so I thought it was right he should live there . . . To rise when they do, work when they do.’
‘How is he finding it?’
Adriana looked at William for a few moments and then slowly shook her head.
William frowned. ‘What is the matter?’
‘He wishes to be a soldier like his “Uncle”William,’ Adriana mocked.
‘Stubborn child,’ William growled under his breath.
‘He idolizes you.’ Adriana slipped from under the sheet to pad naked across the room. She pulled on a gown. ‘He still wishes to join the Order.’
‘I’ve been through this with him several times,’ William reminded her, pulling on a pair of trousers.
Adriana sighed. ‘He is an obstinate boy’
‘Like his aunt.’
Adriana was not impressed. ‘Obstinate, am I?’
‘Incredibly,’ William replied.
‘Do you like that about me?’ she flounced as William walked over to her.
‘I adore it,’ he grinned and seized her arms.
She pushed herself away for a moment. ‘You are so arrogant!’
‘I know,’ William grinned. ‘But you like that’
‘Are you sure?’ she said and
pulled him close, her tongue entering his mouth to seek out his as her hands went about his body.
William’s fingers parted the gown and found her breasts, then moved down to her hips and at last between her legs, so warm and inviting. This touch made her draw a sharp breath, and she seemed to fold into his arms.
We don’t have time for this,’ she sighed, kissing his neck.
‘I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re late’ he whispered, and carried her back to the bed.
IV
The tavern in Villeda was overflowing, the townspeople spilling out into the streets armed with smoking pipes and tankards. William and Adriana’s arrival was greeted with clapping and cheering. It was like a procession, and William soon broke into gregarious laughter, shaking the many hands that were offered. Even Adriana, who had been quite silent during the walk into town, began beaming and absorbing the attention. Lucio’s wife wrapped her arms around her, expressing relief at William’s safe return. Adriana did not have to pretend her response. Her expression was earnest as she told the local gossip she intended to cage him before he ran away on ‘another foolish mission for the Church’.
William was still greeting the townsfolk. There was Edward the blacksmith, Tustio Maldini, who employed Marco, and Antonio, recently elected mayor of Villeda, who laughed heartily, one hand on his barrel of a stomach, the other gripping a large pot of ale. Before William could resist, the mayor was hugging him like a bear.
‘Welcome back, Captain Saxon!’ he shouted, announcing it to everyone.
‘Thank you,’ William replied humbly.
‘We are pleased you returned,’ Antonio continued.
‘I am pleased to be home,’ William said, like the mayor addressing all within earshot.
At the bar, Peruzo was watching with Jericho and several other monks. He lifted a cup of wine and smiled. It was an excuse for William to forge forward towards them, away from the gathering circle of locals who were surrounding him to wish him well.
‘Captain,’ Peruzo greeted and raised his cup.
‘Good evening, Lieutenant,’ he replied and glanced at the monks. ‘And gentlemen.’
The monks were sipping water, looking a little vexed that they couldn’t drink.
‘No wine today?’ William said.
The elder lieutenant raised an eyebrow. ‘Today they fast,’ Peruzo said.
‘I see,’ William mused. ‘You must be glad you’re not a monk.’
‘That I am, Captain,’ Peruzo grinned.
‘For my part, I am glad you were not feeling sour enough to keep away from tonight’s proceedings, old friend,’ William said.
‘A man can rot at St Laurence if he isn’t careful,’ Peruzo conceded slyly.
‘Well said,’ William replied as a pot of ale was shoved into his hands by the landlord.
‘A toast! A toast!’ yelled a farmer from one side of the bar, gesticulating with his tankard at William, which then escalated into a louder request from others crammed into the tavern.
William held up his hand, gesturing for some quiet. He glanced to Adriana, who stood nearby with her arms folded, feigning a look of exasperation. He laughed weakly and addressed the crowd.
‘My thanks to you all,’ he began, and coughed to clear his voice. ‘These celebrations mean much to me and my men. There is time for celebration just as there is time for remembrance. We lost nine brave men on our journey, and a gathering like this should be about their mourning, as well as our success. So please, I ask you to raise your glasses to our fallen friends.’
‘Fallen friends,’ the tavern said as one, and then grew silent.
‘To Captain William Saxon!’ shouted someone from the back, breaking the silence before William could. The crowd repeated it, this time louder than before, and the sound overwhelmed him.
As the calls subsided, William turned to Peruzo apologetically. ‘No offence is taken,’ Peruzo said. ‘You are a hero in Villeda.’
‘There are four heroes in Villeda this day,’ William replied, ‘not just . . .’ He trailed off and looked about. ‘Where is Marresca?’
‘At the monastery,’ Peruzo sighed. ‘He was not persuaded to join us.’
‘Hardly a surprise,’ William replied distantly, thinking about the decision the young lieutenant had to make.
The smoke of the tavern grew heavy, and after a while William turned from the bar, pausing to kiss Adriana, before slipping outside. The evening air was cool and he felt a faint breeze brush his cheek with the smell of cut grass. Around the courtyard people were chatting in the shadows while others occupied benches and stools. The courtyard backed up against several cottages and two-storey buildings. There was no music to speak of, though instruments leaned against a fig tree in the corner. The courtyard itself was awash with light. A string of lanterns hung from the same tree’s branches, and more lanterns hung from posts and balconies.
It was under a string of lanterns that William noticed someone sitting on a bench by himself, quietly enjoying the evening. William sauntered over with his tankard of ale, pausing now and then to exchange greetings. He walked the gauntlet courteously yet swiftly. At one point he thought he might be drawn into an argument about the Church by a farmer he knew as a local troublemaker, but he left the group to argue among themselves.
Under the lanterns, the sitting figure smiled and stared back at William, amused by all the attention.
At last William was free of them, until a boy stepped into his path. His expression was a little different from the rest. Here there was no adulation. William looked down at him. ‘Marco,’ he said, and raised an eyebrow.
‘Uncle,’ Marco replied.
There was a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, and then William said: ‘I understand you are working for the Maldinis?’
Marco shrugged. He was now almost fifteen years of age and had grown into an agile young man. He shared the family’s dark eyes, but unlike Adriana, his hair was fair.
‘Farming is not to your liking?’
‘I would rather be doing something else,’ Marco replied stubbornly.
‘Farming is a respectable profession. And if you didn’t wish to farm, you could have continued with your study,’ William chided.
‘I do not wish to be a farmer. I do not wish to be a student, Uncle!’ Marco seethed.
‘I know exactly what you wish for,’ William said and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘The answer is still no.’
Marco shrugged off his grip. ‘Why is it you have the final say? Others can join the Order, so why can’t I?’
‘Because I am your guardian,’ William replied.
‘I wish you weren’t,’ Marco grumbled.
It was surprising, but this hurt William. He’d looked after the boy for seven years since Aosta, teaching him where he could, allowing others to do so in his absence. The title of ‘Uncle’ was an adopted one, but he thought of Marco as family. If it had not been for William, both Marco and Adriana would have been penniless refugees in Rome.
‘That could be arranged, Marco. Adriana could look after you in my stead, and I would have nothing to do with you,’ William suggested, trying to sound calm. ‘Is that what you wish?’
Marco looked up and shook his head. Despite his sulking, he didn’t wish that. ‘I just want to join the Order, Uncle. Nothing more.’
William sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said.
‘Then there won’t be much talking at all,’ Marco sulked, crossing his arms.
‘Later, Marco!’ William growled at him and walked away, angry with himself, as much as with the boy .
Under the lanterns the sitting figure shook his head and watched Marco slip out of the courtyard.
‘He is wilful.’
‘Like his aunt,’ William replied.
‘Like his uncle,’ the man teased.
‘You think I’m stubborn?’
The man moved closer into the light to reach for his cup. His hair w
as grey and fell about an old face that was still bright, though the eyes were fading.
‘Not stubborn, but perhaps headstrong,’ the old man said.
William laughed. ‘You always say pleasant things about me, Engrin.’
Engrin laughed with him.
‘What is that you’re drinking?’ William asked after a few minutes of relaxed silence.
Engrin looked embarrassed. ‘Just water.’
William raised his eyebrows. ‘Water? You? Surely not! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drinking water before.’
Engrin smiled, though there was regret. ‘I’m not as young as I was, William,’ he replied. ‘Nor as healthy.’
William marked how frail his old friend appeared. ‘Is something wrong? Are you not well?’
‘Damned influenza,’ Engrin replied. ‘Ever since the turn of winter, I haven’t shaken it.’
William tried not to study his old mentor’s expression too closely. ‘You look . . .’ he began, and then couldn’t finish the sentence.
‘I look terrible, William,’ Engrin told him bitterly, ‘so don’t humour this old devil. I am ill, and old. Too old to be teased.’
William held up his hands as he opened his mouth to say ‘Sorry .’
‘And too old to be apologized to,’ Engrin added before he could.
William closed his mouth and nodded. ‘Very well.’
‘How were your adventures in Vienna?’ Engrin asked.
‘They were hectic. I lost some men. We took one vampyre head and a daemon. Not to mention a Scarimadaen.’ William was tempted to speak of Kieran’s reappearance, but this wound was still raw .
‘It sounds like a successful mission,’ Engrin remarked.
‘One got away. But he won’t next time,’ William replied confidently. ‘I expect I’ll be sent after him soon enough. Hopefully to the Carpathians. If only I could launch an attack on Count Ordrane, then this war would be over.’
‘The Carpathians? Ah, so the rumours haven’t reached you yet?’ Engrin said, delighted that he could surprise William once more.
‘Rumours?’
Engrin nodded and bent close. ‘A company of monks was dispatched to Rashid several days ago, and the rumours say something has happened in Egypt.’
The Hoard of Mhorrer Page 6