Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Where are you going?”

Merrick’s soft voice caused Lamorna to stumble. She remained with her back to him, unable to face him.

“You are not leaving us, are you?”

“I cannot stay. If the soldiers come, someone will get hurt and it will be my fault.”

“I cannot allow you to leave. What if the soldiers find you? At least here, you have a chance. The baby has a chance.”

She turned. “Father...” Her anguished expression slowly changed to one of dawning awareness. Loosening the sling, she walked up to the priest and held her brother out to him. “Then let him have the chance. I know Mistress Eva will look after him well.”

“Lamorna, no.” He leant away from her, a frown creasing his brow. “Do not do this. You are all the family he has; he is all that you have.”

She bit her lower lip, not wanting to give in to tears. Not yet. “I have done what I set out to do. I have brought him to safety. The soldiers won’t be looking for a baby on his own, but if I am here with him, they will suspect us.”

Merrick stepped away, shaking his head. “I will not let you do this. You must stay here and let us protect you. I will not let the soldiers take you or him. This I promise.”

Staring at him, she shook her head. “Why? Why would you put your people in harm’s way?”

“You call me ‘Father’; that makes you my child. What manner of father would I be, to abandon my child at the first sign of trouble?”

Humbled by his words, she bowed her head, knowing he was not going to allow her to win this argument.

*                      *                      *                      *

Five days later, the soldiers walked their horses into the village. Having been alerted by a group of men returning from fishing by the river, Amleth and Merrick were already waiting by Amleth’s dwelling as most of the villagers hurried to join them.

Lamorna approached with Alina and her family as she’d been in their home. She struggled to hide her anxiety, wanting to run and hide, to take her brother with her, but he was with Eva. Lamorna looked around for the woman but could not see her; she must still be at her home. Then Sewell was by her side, whispering for her to stay by him.

“I am Liddon,” said the soldier who seemed to be the one in charge. He remained on his horse, a large, muscular beast that tossed its head and snorted, seeming to mirror its owner’s obvious arrogance. “We are looking for a young girl; she travels with a new-born that she’s stolen for reasons known only to herself.”

Lamorna had to duck her head so none would see the flash of anger in her eyes; she muttered furiously under her breath, and Sewell squeezed her hand as if in warning.

“She passes the new-born off as her brother.” He paused, his sharp-eyed stare sweeping the crowd. “Have any seen her?”

Murmurs of denial rippled towards him.

“If any of you are found to be harbouring them, it will go ill indeed for your whole village.”

Lamorna held her breath, waiting for just one voice to speak up, to sacrifice her for the sake of the villagers.

“We have said that we have no knowledge of any such girl,” said Amleth.

The soldier eyed him silently then signalled for his men to dismount before he followed suit. “Be that as it may, we will still search your village.”

Amleth started to protest, but a stern glare from the soldier silenced him. “As you wish, sir.”

“Go, search each dwelling. Thoroughly.”

His men began to move towards the houses; a few villagers started to follow them.

“There is no need for you to accompany my men. They work better without any interference.”

The horses fidgeted and stepped away as a man in their midst collapsed to his knees. Only then did the villagers realise that the soldiers had a captive. The man’s hands were bound together and the rope was tied to a saddle. The villagers stared in shock, in pity at his sorry state. His clothes were torn and muddied; a dark brown stain covered the ripped left shoulder of his tunic; dried blood caked his cheek; his face and arms bore other cuts and bruises.

“So young,” whispered an older woman behind Lamorna.

Liddon stopped before Alina. “You, girl, you have lived here all your life?”

Her father slowly pulled her closer against him. “My father built the house we live in. Our children were born in this village.”

Liddon turned away, arms akimbo, walking towards Merrick who stood silently to one side, leaning on his stick. He passed Lamorna then stopped and turned back.

She quickly dropped her gaze as Sewell put his arm around her.

“She is yours?”

“My sister’s daughter,” said Sewell. “Illness claimed her family, mine succumbed also.”

“Where was this?”

“The town of Hoben. We only have each other now.”

He continued to scrutinize Lamorna who struggled to draw breath. “What is your name?”

She started to tremble.

“Why does she appear so uneasy?”

“Losing her family has affected her badly.”

Liddon’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Sewell. “You served?”

After a momentary hesitation, Sewell nodded.

“Hoben?”

“No. Burtown.”

“But now you no longer serve. Changed your loyalties?” He made no attempt to hide his disdain.

“She needs me more than any lord.”

Silently wishing that Liddon would move away, steadfastly refusing to look at him, Lamorna looked, instead, at the captive. She wondered what he’d done to deserve such cruel treatment.

“Not with your family when they died?” Liddon continued to bait Sewell.

Lamorna winced as Sewell tightened his hold on her, maintaining his silence.

Chuckling, Liddon turned away.

The captive raised his head. Hazel eyes, dull with pain, met Lamorna’s... widened before he quickly looked away.

She stiffened, unable to stop the gasp that escaped her.

Liddon’s attention snapped back to Lamorna. His gaze flicked from her to the captive and back again. “You know him.” It was not a question.

Lamorna froze. How could she deny Daroth? But if she nodded, she’d be condemning herself and her brother.

“Answer me, girl.”

Daroth looked at her; shook his head. It was the slightest of movements but enough for her to realise his meaning.

Biting her lip, she slowly shook her head.

Liddon reached out to grab her by the arm. “Do not lie–”

“She does not know him.” Sewell put his hand out, stopping the soldier.

“The way she looks at him–”

“As if she pities him,” said Merrick, stepping forward. “As we all do. Such a young lad.”

Liddon glared at the priest. “What is there to pity? He has brought this on himself. He defied his father, attacked my men. One of them has a broken leg.” Liddon paused before marching up to Daroth.

Grabbing a fistful of hair, he forced Daroth’s head up, making sure he was facing Lamorna. “Recognise anyone?”

Lamorna dug her nails into her palm in a desperate attempt to stop herself crying out.

“Well?” He jerked Daroth’s head, making him grimace.

“No.” Daroth’s voice was little more than a breathless croak.

“The little whore you’re so desperate to protect...” He looked directly at Lamorna. “She isn’t here?”

“No.”

“But you wouldn’t tell me if she were, would you?” Liddon pulled Daroth’s head up even further while continuing to stare at Lamorna. “Is. She. Here.”

Unable to bear the sight, Lamorna whispered, “Stop it.”

A slow smile spread across the soldier’s face. “You are the one–”

“No…” Lamorna shook her head, tears filling her eyes, convinced she’d doomed herself and her brother.

“Then why so upset?”

“You-you’re being so... cruel. I can’t bear it.” She hid her face in her hands, convinced she’d condemned herself and her brother.

“Enough,” said Merrick. “Enough of this cruelty. You are upsetting the children.”

None, not even Liddon, could deny the children’s anguish as some hid their faces in their mothers’ skirts while others wept, including some of the women.

With a frustrated growl, Liddon flung Daroth down.

“Sir.”

Liddon turned a scowling face to the approaching soldier. “What?”

“We found this in one of the houses. It was out in plain sight. No attempt to hide it.” He held out a clay statue of a womanly figure, a circle of white painted on her rounded belly.

Liddon’s eyes bulged as he snatched it. Gripping it tightly, he turned to bark at the crowd. “Whose is this?”

Silence was the only reply.

“It belongs to no one?” His gaze scoured the crowd. “So, no one will object if I...” He raised his arm, ready to throw the figure to the ground.

“No.” An elderly man leant forward, his arm out. “Mine. It is mine, my wife’s. Please do not destroy it.”

“You dare admit to owning this offensive thing?” He brandished it at the man but did not hand it over. “This has no place here.” He flung it; the man cried out, the crowd gasped. But the figure did not hit the ground.

It rested in Sewell’s hand. Having darted forward to catch it, he quietly handed the figure to its owner.

Liddon stared at Sewell, a vein in his neck straining against the skin. “You dare?”

“You have no right to–”

“I have every right to erase that loathsome religion from our land.” He leant forward, jabbing his finger at Sewell.

Indignant muttering swelled from the crowd.

“No, you do not.”

Liddon’s head jerked back. He turned to Merrick. “You? A priest, defending them?”

Merrick’s brow creased. “Yes. I defend them, they are my children. It is what a priest does.”

Liddon snorted. “You forget who you serve.”

“I have forgotten nothing. I serve my lord, my god. He is love, and I remain true to his teachings. It is you who has forgotten. You serve those who have twisted the teachings for their own ends. There is nothing in the scriptures that calls for the removal of ancient religions. Our lord preached of love, of tolerance, forgiveness.”

“Encouraging it only leads to trouble. They disrespect our lords, those whores who serve–”

“Why are you so filled with hate? Those women serve with love and respect. Two things you are sorely lacking,” said Merrick, his voice soft and calm. He remained with his hands resting lightly on his stick. He did not flinch when Liddon, breathing noisily through flared nostrils, stepped closer almost leaning into Merrick.

A heavy silence descended; silence that was broken by a baby’s angry cry.

Lamorna looked up, a small noise of protest escaping her.

Coming towards them were two soldiers, one holding her brother and pulling Eva behind him while the other had hold of Wystan.

Lamorna tried to go to them, but Sewell still had his arm firmly around her and held her back.

“We found this...” The soldier grimaced at Eva’s inarticulate protests, holding her back as she kept reaching for the child. “We found her and the baby in a hovel back there, sir. And this one.” He inclined his head at Wystan. “He tried to stop us taking it.”

“Did he?” Moving quickly away from Merrick, Liddon strode up to them.

The soldier who had hold of Wystan shoved him forward; he stumbled and fell to his knees.

Anxious murmurs trickled from the crowd. Lamorna bit her lip to keep herself from crying out.

“You know the penalty for crossing us, priest?”

“I asked him to watch over them,” said Merrick as he limped forward to stand by Wystan, his stick between his young apprentice and Liddon. “If you are seeking to lay blame then place it at my feet.” The priest continued to maintain his calm demeanour.

Liddon was the first to look away as he turned to the baby. “A new-born? Yet you said you had no knowledge of any such young one.”

“You are searching for fugitives,” said Amleth. “This one, no longer a new-born, belongs to the village.”

Liddon turned to Eva with a sickened expression as she continued to make garbled, incoherent sounds. “What is wrong with this woman? Why does she make such unholy noises?”

“She cannot speak,” said a middle-aged woman.

“Where is her husband?”

Silence was the only reply.

“I said, where is her–”

“She was forced out by her husband,” said Merrick. “She came here, and we gave her sanctuary.”

The soldier held Eva at arm’s length, as he looked her up and down. “I cannot blame her husband though why he chose her in the first place I cannot understand.” His comrades joined him as he laughed. “And pity the baby for having this for a mother.” More laughter followed his words.

Eva fell silent, keeping her eyes downcast as she feebly tried to pull herself free.

At that moment, all the anger, all the grief Lamorna had kept suppressed at her mother’s cold, pitiless treatment exploded, wiping out her fear. She pulled away from Sewell. “Shame on you!”

Her words seemed to cast a spell of stillness and silence, save for the infant’s wailing.

Marching up to the soldier who still had hold of Eva, she continued, “Shame on you, treating a mother so... so badly. What does it matter what she looks like?”  She slapped at his hand, surprising him enough that he released the woman.

“Give her the baby.”

When the soldier remained staring, still holding the screaming child, Lamorna prised her brother free and, ignoring her own need to comfort him, handed him to Eva. It did not take her long to quieten him.

“See? He doesn’t care what she looks like. He doesn’t care for your pity because he has a mother who loves him. Not like me. I don’t have my mam.” By now Lamorna was shaking with fury as she stepped towards Liddon. “And it’s because of–”

“Hush, child. Hush.” Sewell quickly pulled her into his embrace, stopping Lamorna condemning herself.

“Because of what?” Liddon reached out. “You don’t have your mother because of?”

Sewell put out a hand to stop him. “I already told you, the loss of her family has left her easily upset.”

Liddon narrowed his eyes at Sewell. “Never have I come across a village so full of disrespect,” said the soldier through gritted teeth.

“Disrespect because we do not bow and scrape before you?” said Merrick. “These people are free. They are tied to no one, and you do not have the right to treat them badly. Now, it is clear that what you seek is not here. I believe it is time for you and your men to leave.”

“I will report your insubordination.” He spat his words at Merrick.

The old priest shrugged. “If there is a law that has been passed that I am unaware of, that repudiates the scriptures then, by all means, return and punish me.”

With a growl, Liddon strode up to his horse, shouting at his men to mount up. Throwing a final, contemptuous glare at Sewell, he walked his horse away, his men following.

Moving her head slightly, Lamorna peered past Sewell’s arm, watching as Daroth half-walked, half-stumbled away from her.

He glanced back, a small, sad smile on his face.

That proved more than she could bear. Clutching Sewell’s sleeve, she pressed her face against his chest, hot tears forcing their way past her closed lids.

“Lamorna,” said Sewell, “they have gone.”

Merrick laid his hand on her shoulder. “I have not witnessed such courage in a long, long time.”

Still Lamorna remained against Sewell, not lifting her head. She heard Amleth quietly suggest that everyone return to their tasks; they dispersed, talking amongst themselves.

Sewell stepped away from her. “Wipe your tears. You are safe now, truly safe, for the soldiers will not return to look for you here. I know how they think; I am one of them–”

“No,” she said through her tears. “You are not one of them. You’re not like them at all.”

With a soft exclamation, he gently pulled her back into his embrace.

“That young man, their captive; you know him,” said Merrick after a while. “I suspect he knows you also.”

Stepping away from Sewell, Lamorna nodded, but hung her head and hunched her shoulders.

“Who is he?” Merrick’s tone was as kind as always.

She opened her mouth but could only speak after a few attempts. “… my betrothed...”

“Oh, child.”

“I’m sorry, Father. Please don’t be angry. I didn’t know what else to do. I have to keep my brother safe–”

“Hush, hush. I was not condemning you, Lamorna. You had no choice. And that young man made his choice, he accepted his fate when he denied you. There is nothing to forgive, no one to blame.”

“Only that damned Liddon,” said Sewell with a growl.

“We must do something,” said Lamorna. “We must help him.”

Priest and ex-soldier exchanged resigned glances before Merrick replied. “There is nothing we can do, my dear, but pray for his safety.”

“It’s not fair.” She buried her face in her hands.

“No, it does not seem at all fair. But we must have faith and hope that he... What is his name?”

“Daroth.”

Merrick nodded. “A strong name. We must have faith that Daroth will somehow survive. And I hope you will not leave us now, Lamorna. Sewell may well be right that the soldiers will not return. But we do not know how long they will remain scouring the countryside for you, and if you leave there is great danger that you will be discovered.”

Looking up, she caught sight of Eva with the still quiet baby in her arms. The woman smiled sadly at Lamorna. “How can I think of leaving?” said the girl softly. “He has already lost one mother; how can I take him away from another?”

With a soft moan, Eva hunched over, tears coursing down her scarred cheeks. She covered the baby with kisses and held her hand out to Lamorna. The girl went to her side and they stood together in an awkward embrace.