Page 84 of Mesmerized

They reached the door at last and stumbled inside. The room was lit only by a cross-shaped window open to the outside air. It was little used and contained few creature comforts—dried rushes spread across the floor, a simple pallet for a bed, a small stool beside it, and on the stool, a cheap candle in the form of a bowl of animal lard with a thick wick stuck in.

Alys helped Elwena over to the crude pallet and eased her onto it. She set down her sack and knelt beside the woman. Gently she pulled away the shift she had pressed against the other woman’s waist. The blood was, she saw, still flowing freely. The wound needed to be cleaned, she knew, but she had no water with her, and so she left the wound as it was, pressing the makeshift bandage back into place. Taking out a nightshift, she used her dagger to tear off a long strip from around the bottom, and this she used to wrap around Elwena’s waist, tightly binding the bandage to her.

Elwena lay half-propped up against the wall, panting from her exertions. “You helped me,” she said after a moment, her voice wondering.

“Yes, of course. You were in trouble.”

“You are his wife. And I—”

“I know.” Alys shrugged. “That does not change the fact that you were in trouble. I could scarcely stand by and watch them rape and kill you.”

“There are some as would,” Elwena told her.

“Perhaps. I am not one of them.”

Elwena looked at her oddly. “I was not kind to you. I strutted in front of you with my finery.”

“I know.” Alys paused, then added honestly, “I hold no grudge against you, Elwena. I am not jealous. I was only glad that the nights Sir Raymond went to you, I did not have to endure his lust. I pitied you that you had to.”

Elwena lifted her chin proudly. “I don’t need pity. I was able to take anything he did, and I made a good life for me and for Guy.”

“I am sure you did the best you could for the boy,” Alys agreed candidly.

She got up and went to the door, sliding the bar up and opening the door to look out. The sounds of battle were growing closer. That could only mean that Sir John was still alive, and she offered up a small prayer of gratitude. After replacing the bar, she came back and squatted down beside Elwena. The woman’s son was sitting quietly by his mother’s head, one hand on her hair, patting it. His other thumb, she noticed, was firmly planted in his mouth, and his eyes had a haunted look. He knew, she thought. With a child’s instinct, he saw that his mother was in grave danger.

Alys glanced at the bandage tied around Elwena’s waist. The blood had soaked clear through it and was spreading out to stain the whole side of her dress, as well. She was mortally wounded, Alys knew; the only question was how long she would be able to hold out before she died.

Elwena opened her eyes and looked at her, and Alys started a little guiltily, as though Elwena would be able to guess what Alys had been thinking.

“Do you love him?” she asked, surprising Alys.

“Who?” Alys said, though she was certain Elwena did not refer to Sir Raymond.

“Sir John. The captain. There’s them as say you do.”

“Who says it?”

“He said it once, when he was drinking.”

“Sir Raymond?” Alys asked, stunned by the other woman’s statement. “But he never—”

“He would not admit it to anyone. It would damage his pride too much. I am sure he didn’t mean to tell me, probably doesn’t even remember it. He will find some way to make you suffer without anyone knowing why.”

“I fear he will be too late,” Alys remarked.

“I don’t know. Perhaps he was not.”

Alys looked at Elwena sharply. “What do you mean?”

“The castle has been overrun. We will all die. And by chance it happens when Sir Raymond is not here.”

“No!” Alys said automatically. “It is his own! His home. And all the rest of the people...he could not...” Her voice trailed off as she considered. “To kill all these people—the soldiers, the servants—just to get his revenge on me? Even he could not be that evil.”

“They say he dances with the devil in the woods.”

Alys’s hand curled instinctively about the cross she wore on a chain around her throat. “You think he would kill even you?”

“You think he cares for me?” Elwena’s smile was bitter. “Because I give him pleasure? He gives me things, yet he counts me no more than he would the loaf of bread he eats or the shoe he puts on his foot.”