Hemlock

by N. J. Layouni

“Indeed she did. And a good many other things besides.” Vadim kept his voice light, though the scene back at the Great Hall had shaken him a good deal. “Seth’s womenfolk attacked me the moment I arrived home. It appears I am lacking in the attributes every decent husband ought to possess.”

  He pinched her chin gently between a gloved thumb and forefinger and smiled. “They wondered how I ever persuaded you to accept me in the first place. At this moment, I believe they consider Forge a better man than I.”

  They looked over to where Forge lay curled up beneath the hedge. He wasn’t stupid enough to stand out in a snowstorm, even if they were.

  “What am I thinking? Come here.” Vadim opened his cloak and enveloped Martha within its folds, sharing his heat with her. “You are frozen,” he said, stroking the snow from her hair. “Are you ready to come home now?”

  “No.” Martha sighed. “Not yet. There’s something I need to tell you first.”

  “Oh?” He held her hands beneath the shelter of his cloak, massaging her icy fingers. He looked into troubled eyes. “Then, speak. I am listening.”

  She took a deep breath. “You aren’t my husband, Vadim, and Darumvale isn’t my home. It’s not fair that you should suffer for performing one good deed for the rest of your life. I won’t let that happen—”

  Whatever was coming, could not be good. “Martha— ”

  “Please, don’t interrupt,” she begged. “This is difficult enough as it is.” Her eyes and expression were deadly serious. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I know it’s the right decision for both of us. As soon as spring comes, I want you to take me to Edgeway and leave me there—”

  “No!” The denial burst from him so fiercely, it made her jump. “I forbid it.” He would never consent to such an ill-conceived plan.

  “Don’t you see? It’s not your place to forbid me anything.” Slipping her hands from his, Martha stepped out from the protection of his cloak. “You aren’t my father, my guardian, or any other relative.” She seemed oblivious of the swirling snow, so intent was she on leaving him.

  “So, I am nothing to you?” he demanded. “Is that what you mean to say?”

  “No. That’s not what I mean at all.” She drew closer and pressed her palm against his chest. “You’re a good man, Vadim. Probably the best man I’ve ever known.” She smiled up at him. “You’re my friend…sort of. And because I care, I won’t let you suffer for your good deed a moment longer than necessary.” She took a breath to steady herself.

  His heart raced beneath her hand. Could she not feel it? Let her say her piece and be done. Whatever she said, she was going nowhere. Not without him.

  “I shall go to Edgeway as a respectable widow,” Martha continued. “I’ll find a job and somewhere to live, and you’ll go back to Darumvale and tell everyone I upped and left you.” She smiled with a little of her former sauce. “You’ll be free to live your life again, and everything will be as it should.”

  But Vadim did not smile. “Except for you.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Except for me.”

  “So you have given up all hope of returning home.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I have.” She looked so beaten, it tore at his heart.

  “Have faith, m’lady. When spring comes I shall continue my search for Madoc the Seer. He is wise in ancient lore. I am certain he will know what to do.”

  Martha gave a bitter laugh. “Even if this chap does know how I got here, do you really think he’ll know how to send me back again? Wake up, Vadim. I thought I was the only one who still believes in fairytales. Just forget about it. I’m going nowhere.”

  When her lower lip trembled, Vadim took her in his arms again, enfolding her with his cloak. He closed his eyes, holding her close. It felt good, to hold her. He wanted to warm her, to banish every trace of cold from her flesh.

  With a small sigh, Martha relaxed, and lay her cheek against his chest.

  At length, Vadim roused himself. The snow was getting thicker with each passing moment. “We should return to Darumvale before they send out a search party.” Reluctantly, he set her away from him. “We will continue our discussion later.”

  “This discussion is over,” she said. “I won’t change my mind.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When they reached Darumvale, people streamed from their homes and onto the street.

  A voice cried out, “All is well. He has found her!”

  A crowd of villagers swarmed the horse, all talking at once, voicing their concern.

  Martha smiled until her face ached. “I’m fine,” she repeated, over and over again to the kind enquiries. “I just walked further than I realized.”

  Seth hurried down the hill, with Ma and Sylvie clinging to each arm, slipping in the snow. “You scared the life from us,” he said sternly as they reached the horse. “Never wander off like that again.”

  “I thought the wolves had eaten you for sure,” Ma said, dabbing at her eyes with a corner of her food-smeared apron.

  Martha’s remorse was swift. “I’m sorry, Ma…everyone. I really am. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

  “Take her, Seth.” Vadim lowered Martha from the horse and into the Chief’s capable arms. The moment her feet touched the ground, Sylvie flung Martha’s forgotten cloak about her shoulders and hugged her hard.

  “I have seen how unhappy you are, Martha,” she whispered fiercely against her ear. “I should have spoken to you about it—been a proper friend.”

  “Shh.” Martha kissed Sylvie’s cheek. “I’m fine, really. You have nothing to blame yourself for.”

  After surrendering his horse to the care of one of the village boys, Vadim took Martha’s hand. “We appreciate your concern, friends,” he said in a loud voice, addressing everyone. “But the best thing for my wife at this moment is the comfort of her own hearth. We bid you all a good night.” It was apparent he thought the reunion had gone on long enough.

  “Not without some food inside her first” Sylvie glared at Vadim so fiercely even Martha flinched. “I have made up a small pan of pottage. It only requires a little heating.”

  Vadim bowed his head. “You are kindness itself, m’lady,” he said with strained politeness.

  It wasn’t easy watching two people she cared about being so cool with one another. But what could she do about it? Nothing. Not until spring, anyway.

  ***

  Whilst Martha visited the privy, Vadim stoked the fire and prepared supper. He donated a generous bowlful of the pottage to Forge. The dog disposed of his share in a few quick mouthfuls, then, with a contented little groan, he flopped down in his usual spot in front of the fire.

  The latch clicked, and Martha entered the house. She looked pale and weary to his eyes.

  “I really need a bath,” she said, hanging her cloak on the hook behind the door.

  “Eat first.” Taking her arm, he guided her to a chair beside the fire, and placed a steaming bowl of food into her hands. “I have already put your water on to boil.”

  Her eyes widened as she saw the little wooden bathtub at the other side of the hearth, little wisps of heat curling up from its depths. She smiled. “I must really stink like a dog otter if you’re encouraging me to bathe.”

  “Not at all.” Vadim picked up his own bowl of food and sat in the chair beside hers. “I have merely become accustomed to your ways, that is all.”

  It was a pleasant meal, during which they avoided any topic of conversation likely to end in a quarrel. When supper was over, as Vadim prepared more hot water for her bath, he told Martha about his day in the mountains. Nothing of great consequence. Simple things, which he hoped might divert her from her melancholy, such as the plants and animals he had seen.

  Although she appeared to listen, nodding her head occasionally, Vadim knew other matters consumed her mind. Like moving to Edgeway. A foolish notion if ever he heard one. No matter what she might think of his interference, he would not allow it. At length,
she lapsed into silence, staring into the fire as though the flames held the answers she sought. Answers he could not give her.

  For the sake of his honor, he had avoided her as much as possible during the past few weeks. By physically distancing himself, he had hoped to smother the increasing attraction he felt for her.

  This method, cowardly as it was, had met with limited success. Although he could now share a room with her without needing to touch her, his hunger remained. It still lived and breathed within him, locked away in the darkest recesses of his soul, quietly resenting him for its imprisonment.

  What else could he do? Her heart belonged to another man and another world. Had she not said so on numerous occasions? If his frequent absences wounded her at all, it was only because she missed the security he provided as her guardian. Nothing more. The people of Darumvale needed him in much the same way. No. Martha did not require anything else of him, and it was just as well. He certainly had nothing of any value to offer her. Not anymore.

  Love was the most excruciating pain of all. The peril of its lethal knives was too great a risk. His heart still bore the scars of wounds that had almost killed him. Love and loss were too closely intertwined. Only a fool would court its dubious pleasure for a second time.

  My heart must remain empty. I have not the courage to face that kind of torture again.

  He poured the final pan of steaming water into the tub. Even the splashing of the water did not rouse Martha from her reverie. Lifting his pipe and tobacco from the mantelpiece, he called to her.

  “Hmm?” Blinking several times, she finally dragged her gaze from the fire.

  “Your bath awaits. And I have business with Seth.” He smiled at her. “Have no fear, I shall not return too early, my lady.”

  “But you are coming back?” she asked quickly. “We have things to discuss, remember?”

  Vadim chuckled. She had no intention of letting him off the hook, it seemed.

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough for talk. Have your bath, and go to sleep.”

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head, sending wild waves of chestnut hair about her pink face. “I’m not as green as I am cabbage-looking. You’ll be up and away to the mountains before cockcrow. By the time you get back, it’ll be too late to discuss anything at all. I’m wise to your avoidance tactics by now.”

  “Why are you comparing yourself to a vegetable, Martha?” He chuckled and swung his cloak about his shoulders.

  “It’s an expression,” she replied tartly. “And that’s another tactic of yours—changing the subject. Just when are we going to have our talk, hmm?”

  When she pursed her lips like that, she looked most severe. “Incredible. You even sound like a real wife—”

  “Vadim!” She stood up and grabbed his gloves from the trunk, pitching them at his head in quick succession. One missed its target, but the other hit him squarely in his face.

  “Very well, m’lady.” Still laughing, he salvaged his gloves from the floor. “Tomorrow it is, then. I will stay home all day, and you may nag at me as much as you please.”

  “And you’ll give me straight answers. Promise?”

  “You have my oath as a gentleman.” He swept her a mocking little bow.

  “Huh. For what that’s worth.” She sat in her chair again, her movements stiff and weary. “Off you go, then. Play nicely with Seth.” As he reached for the door latch, she called to him. “And, Vadim?”

  He turned. “Yes?” The warmth of her smile made his guts clench.

  “Thanks for the bath, and for coming to find me…again.”

  “You are most welcome,” he replied with as much calmness as he could muster. “Good night.” Then, before his resolve could weaken any further, he opened the door and stepped out into the bitter coldness of the night.

  ***

  True to his word, when Martha opened her eyes the next morning, Vadim was there.

  “Good morning, little sluggard.” He looked up from where he was crouched by the fire, stirring at a pan of porridge.

  She sat up, blinking in the bright sunlight that streamed through the window.

  “‘Tis is a lovely morning. Forge and I have been awake for hours,” Vadim continued.

  There was something different about him. Martha rubbed her bleary eyes. Then it hit her. “You shaved off your beard!”

  “Indeed.” He stroked a hand over his smooth cheek. “Does its absence improve me at all?”

  Martha swallowed hard before trusting herself to speak. “You might say that.”

  The familiar black whiskers were gone, and the cheekbones were back. Hooray! She’d almost forgotten how attractive he was. Not that his stubble had rendered him ugly by any means. But it was criminal to hide a face like that beneath a beard. His smile looked even whiter today. Even his eyes looked different, more chocolate-brown than black.

  “You look…younger.” And so hot, my eyes have blisters from looking at you.

  He chuckled, turning away to ladle out the porridge into two wooden bowls. “I am flattered.”

  “Not that you looked old before,” she assured him quickly. “The beard made you look a bit grumpy, that’s all.”

  “Have a care.” He brought a bowl over and thrust it into her hands. “Your generous compliments might swell my head. Move over.”

  Martha obeyed, shuffling over to make space for him on the narrow bed. He sat beside her and proceeded to eat his own porridge. “I thought we might go for a walk today, if you are willing,” he said, in between mouthfuls. “The day is too good to waste indoors.”

  “Okay.” She toyed with her spoon, suddenly no longer hungry. Oh-oh! It’s back. His nearness was affecting her stomach again. Why did he make her feel queasy when absolutely nothing about him revolted her? Quite the reverse in, fact.

  Vadim didn’t appear to share her symptoms. “Would you like more honey?” He had finished his porridge whilst hers still steamed, barely touched, in her hands. “No doubt you prefer it sweeter than I take mine.”

  “No. It’s lovely, thanks. I’m just not that hungry today.” She cupped her fingers about the wooden bowl to warm them.

  He nodded his dark head in apparent sympathy. “Ah! Women’s problems, I expect.”

  “You could be right.” She was unwilling to entertain any other possibility, even to herself.

  As soon as she was dressed—wrapped up as if she were about to embark on a polar expedition, thanks to Vadim—they left the house.

  Forge bounded ahead of them, galloping through the snow like an overgrown puppy, his tongue dangling in a wild grin. Martha waved to Bren as they passed by the smithy, then hurried to catch up with Vadim and Forge.

  Vadim turned onto a narrow trail she hadn’t noticed before. As they followed it the path travelled up and over a little hill before snaking off into a forest. Hardly any snow lay on the ground here. The trees were tightly packed together, the dry, compacted ground giving a dull, echoing thud with each footfall.

  She didn’t like it. Somehow, the silence was too loud. Not even birdsong penetrated the oppressive stillness. As her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, she stumbled over several tree roots. Vadim offered her his arm.

  Martha held up her hands. “I can manage, thanks.” Touching him wasn’t good idea. Not if she wanted to get her heart rate back under control.

  Vadim raised one dark eyebrow but made no comment.

  The path narrowed again, forcing them to walk in single file. She followed in Vadim’s wake, constantly battling to wrench her cloak from the grasping evergreen bushes that attempted to pull it from her.

  This wasn’t her idea of a nice walk.

  Her dislike of the forest increased with every step. It made her feel claustrophobic, even the air tasted old and stale. Just as she was about to ask how much farther they had to go, the path forked. Without hesitation, Vadim turned onto the trail leading uphill.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Do you wish to rest for a moment?”

&n
bsp; “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “The path becomes a little steep from here,” he warned. “But, I assure you, it is well worth the effort.”

  ‘A little steep’ didn’t quite cover it.

  The path left the stifling confines of the forest and, with no preamble, shot straight up a large hill, using the most direct route possible. Martha envied the ease with which Forge tackled the incline, bounding up the shifting slope of snow-covered scree. He even had the energy to snuffle about for rabbits. The lucky thing.

  Martha labored upwards using Vadim’s footprints whenever possible. Her lungs burned, and sweat beaded on her brow. Because his stride was so long, she plunged knee-deep in snow at every other step. The bottom of her dress hung heavy and damp about her legs, clinging unpleasantly to her calves, further hampering her attempt to tackle the brute of a hill.

  Her breathing resembled random notes from a wheezy old accordion. She pulled off her headscarf, dabbing it over her face and neck. Just then, a cold and gentle breeze danced over her hot skin, its icy caress making her sigh with bliss.

  Vadim waited for her on a small rocky plateau. He frowned as she approached. “Is it too much for you, Martha? I know you are a little…unwell.”

  “I’m…fine.” She bent over, attempting to slow her breathing.

  “You do not look fine. Perhaps we should turn back?” He, to her disgust, didn’t sound even slightly out of breath.

  “I have a period,” she snapped. “I’m not dying of the plague.” She stood upright again. “See? I’m fine.”

  “Then stop being so stubborn and take my hand.” He proffered his right hand. “If you do not, I will take you no further.”

  Forge barked at them from higher up the hill. Martha shielded her eyes to look at him. His pink tongue lolled from his mouth, and his tail thrashed with happiness. It would be unfair to deprive him of a day out just because she was afraid of ‘The Vadim Effect’.