Read on for "Exiled", one of the ten stories included in Return:
Edwina lifted her head off her lover’s chest. She was certain she’d heard some sound, some bit of noise that was out of place. Tugging her wheat-gold hair out from under Marshall’s body, she sat up and gathered the sheet to her chest. She cocked her head to one side, listening for whatever had awakened her. Only silence greeted her.
Worried about being discovered, Edwina looked about for her clothing. The sun was just beginning to light the sky. It was time to go, time to leave Marshall before her absence was discovered.
Not that anyone would notice, she thought as she pulled on her clothes from the night before. Her husband had ceased to visit her bed five years before. He’d gotten the son he craved and abandoned her to her own devices. She rarely saw him these days, preferring her own company, or that of her current lover.
She glanced back at the sprawling bed and smiled, content to watch Marshall as he slept. He was only the most recent in a long line of lovers, but she was falling just a little in love with the man. He was everything her husband was not. Strong, confident, considerate, and an excellent lover, Marshall gave her the first snatches of true joy she’d known since her hasty marriage to King Cadfael almost six years before.
Settling her clothing into place over her thin body, Edwina leaned down to place a gentle kiss upon Marshall’s cheek. She was rewarded with a slight smile, but he didn’t wake. With a final stroke of his thick chestnut hair, she headed for the door.
As she reached for the handle, the door flew inwards, throwing her back against the wall. Edwina felt the handle of the door dig into her stomach as she was caught between it and the wall. She cried out a moment before strong arms seized her, forcing her to the floor.
Managing to glance up, she saw that Marshall was already on his feet, sword in hand, ready to defend her. He hadn’t bothered to clothe himself, but stood there, facing down the Royal Guards who had entered his chamber without leave. He was ready to fight. But as a captain in the Royal Guard, these men owed him their loyalty.
She watched this realization spread across his face as the point of his sword began to slip downward. “Put up your weapons,” he ordered.
They didn’t seize him, but they didn’t obey him either. There were few people in the country who outranked Marshall, few people who could have ordered these men to disobey their captain. Hearing a bellow behind her, Edwina groaned in despair.
“Seize them both!”
Edwina was already on the floor, but a guard pushed her head down so that she could not see what was happening in the chamber. She could still hear, however, and what she heard caused her stomach to wrap around her spine. There was a struggle as the guards moved to carry out their orders. Marshall was fighting them, trying to come to her. She heard him cry out in pain, but the struggles continued. He might be hurt, but he wasn’t dead.
He’d never had a chance. There were at least twenty guards in the chamber, though Edwina had difficulty coming up with an exact number with her face pressed into the floor. Two guards were almost sitting on top of her, forcing her to stay in place. Though what they thought she’d do if released was a mystery. It wasn’t as if a woman of her stature could hope to fight even a single guard.
The struggle stopped and silence reigned once more. A cold dread settled over her heart. She could hear ragged breathing and the scrape of leather on marble, but nothing else. She tried to raise her head, but the hand holding the back of her neck tightened in her blond hair and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“Take him away,” Cadfael snapped.
A tightness crept into Edwina’s shoulders and she started to tremble. She recognized that tone. It was the tone he used to order the death or torture of his enemies. Or the tone that crept into his voice before he beat his wife or son.
“Leave us.” If anything, Cadfael’s tone had deepened, become more frightening.
As the guards obeyed and released her, Edwina tried to disappear into the floor. She raised her head only enough to watch several men drag Marshall from the chamber. Other than that, she didn’t dare move.
When the door closed silently behind the guards, Cadfael stalked forward. Edwina squeezed her eyes shut. A strong hand closed over her hair and pulled her to her feet, drawing a gasp from her. She fought to keep the tears from her eyes, knowing from experience that any outward sign of pain would only encourage him.
Edwina saw his hand come up and braced herself, wishing he’d release her before he struck her. When his fist crashed into her jaw, her head snapped to the side and her vision exploded. She saw a brilliant flash of light and knew she would be tending her own head injury tomorrow. She slumped and would have fallen were it not for his hand in her hair.
She hoped he would just leave her now, visit one of his concubines to vent his rage, but it was not to be. Cadfael threw her into the wall and Edwina barely managed to keep her nose from hitting the hard marble. She heard the sound of a belt clearing belt loops and froze. She wanted to run like a frightened rabbit but knew that it would avail her naught. He would catch her, send his Royal Guards to hunt her down, and would be all the angrier for having to chase her. It was better to accept what he would do, bear it as she always did.
Managing not to flinch away from his hand, Edwina allowed him to drag her to the bed. She heard tearing cloth and dared not fight. Cadfael tore off her gown and threw her into the headboard. Holding herself carefully still, Edwina watched him as he moved toward her, belt raised for the blow.
During the beating that followed, Edwina didn’t move except to keep the worst of the blows from her head. When it was over, she lay curled against the headboard, clutching her left arm. She was certain it was broken, and broken badly. And she had at least three fractured ribs. She’d need a healer when this was over. It wouldn’t be the first time a healer-mage had been called to attend Queen Edwina. She waited in silence for him to leave her. He never cared for her after a beating. She would be left to summon a healer and find her own way back to her chambers.
When a hand wrapped itself in her hair and dragged her away from the relative safety of the headboard, Edwina couldn’t stop herself from crying out. The pain threatened to overwhelm her, to send her reeling into unconsciousness. Tears fell from her emerald green eyes as she fought to stay awake.
Edwina was thrown facedown onto the soft bed, but even the thick blankets and soft mattress couldn’t soften the blow. She hurt, and nothing could distract her from that.
Cadfael straddled her body, pinning her in place. He leaned down until his dry lips were barely brushing her right ear. “Little whore,” he whispered. “But you’re my whore until I choose otherwise.”
She might have responded but he placed his hand on the back of her head and forced her face into the thick blankets. Realizing she could no longer draw breath, Edwina started to struggle. But it was too late. He had her, controlled every movement she tried to make.
As his body moved against hers, she felt blackness rise up to overwhelm her.
***
She was awakened by pain. It hurt to move. It hurt to breath. It even hurt to open her eyes. After a few moments of trying to get up, Edwina lay back on the cold floor and took stock of her surroundings.
The scent of beeswax and honeysuckle assailed her senses. Marshall detested the scent of honeysuckle. It reminded him of the King. So she was no longer in Marshall’s chamber. There was cool marble beneath her and a gentle warmth to the chamber. For that she was grateful, for her bruised and naked flesh would not appreciate the cold. She wasn’t even covered.
It was then that she realized where she must be. Cadfael’s bedchamber. Why else would she be uncovered? Cadfael was too possessive to allow other eyes on his wife, even if he was furious with her. She was his, for better or worse, at least according to their marriage vows.
Listening carefully, Edwina decided she was alone in the chamber. She cracked one eye open and fought against the wave of nausea that welled forth. She had to move. Staying here, in this room, was not safe. Cadfael was always at his worst in this chamber. Edwina tried to force herself into a sitting position but quickly stopped. It felt as if the bones of her skull were sliding together in a most unnatural way and there was a deep ache between her thighs.
There was no hope for it. She wouldn’t be able to move on her own. Not yet. She lay back down on the marble floor, despairing. What had happened to Marshall? Was he imprisoned or perhaps dead? There was no way to know for sure. Cadfael’s temper was harsh, but thoroughly unpredictable.
And what about her son? Cadfael had a strange sense of justice. It wasn’t unlike him to punish a child for the crimes of a parent. Was he taking out his anger on Darian even now? Tears coursed down her cheeks at the thought. Now or later, Darian would pay for her mistakes. It was almost more than she could bear.
As she lay there, trapped in a prison of her own pain, she distantly heard the door creak open. Fearing it was her husband, Edwina pulled herself into a fetal position, expecting the worst. Footsteps approached, light and fast, and Edwina cringed.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. “Your Majesty, you must get up. The King demands you appear before him.”
Edwina opened her eyes and stared at Marie, her own maid. As the maid’s words registered in her tired mind, Edwina started shaking in relief. The King would never beat her in public. If he was commanding her appearance, he must be in the throne room.
Nodding her head hurt too much and her throat was sore, so she acknowledged Marie’s instructions with her eyes. Marie helped her gain her feet, but it was slow going. The pain was too intense to allow for more than a few inches movement at a time. It took the better part of a candlemark to get Edwina standing independently.
Marie held out a gown and Edwina’s eyes widened. All of Edwina’s gowns were crafted of fine silks and soft wools, all in the brightest of colors. This gown was rough wool and a deep brown in color. It was also a little too large. It took a moment for Edwina to realize that it was one of Marie’s gowns. The gown of a servant. Her eyes flew to Marie’s.
Marie understood the look instantly. “The King’s orders, Majesty. You are to appear garbed as a servant.”
The maid hesitated and Edwina knew there was more. As Marie looked down at her feet, Edwina knew the news was not good. She glanced behind Marie to a nearby chair and what she saw stopped her cold. There was a yellow tabard draped over the back of the chair. A stained yellow tabard. The tabard of a traitor.
Edwina took a deep breath. “He’s to have me tried with treason, then?”
But Marie was shaking her head. “You’ve already been convicted,” the maid whispered. “You were tried as you slept. You are to appear for sentencing.”
The Queen stood unmoving as Marie dressed her, covering her soft skin with the roughened wool. She knew that Cadfael was acting within the bounds of the law. Technically, by sleeping with Marshall, she had betrayed him. And betraying the King was treason, regardless of the motivation. She’d been expecting this since she’d taken her first lover three years ago.
What she hadn’t expected was to be tried without being allowed to offer a defense. She had hoped that she could wheedle a divorce from Cadfael if she were permitted to testify in open court, as traitors were always allowed to do. To have their problems aired before the court would have been humiliating for the King, and Edwina had intended to promise silence in exchange for her divorce.
Cadfael must have known that. And he would never agree to a divorce, to allow her to reclaim her dignity. So he’d tried her, convicted her, without permitting her to defend herself. The idea shocked her, yet she was not surprised. It was so like Cadfael to look out for only his own interests.
“What of Marshall?” she finally asked her loyal maid.
Marie looked away suddenly. Like most women, she too had been fond of the handsome Captain of the Royal Guard. Her voice filled with regret as she answered her mistress. “He was executed immediately, my lady, just a few candlemarks ago.”
Edwina could not prevent the cry of despair that escaped her lips. Of all the men she’d known, Marshall had come closest to winning her heart. He’d made her happy, if only briefly. To have him taken from her so quickly … it was horribly unfair.
Her pride welled forth as she straightened her back and wiped the tears from her eyes. Marie reached for the tabard but Edwina stopped the girl with a quick flick of her wrist. She walked toward the chair, head held high. Without looking, she reached down and threw the tabard over her head. It smelled foul, but she refused to respond to the odor.
She didn’t even glance at Marie as she said, “Take me to him.”
***
Queen Edwina entered the throne room, back straight and head erect. She glanced neither left nor right as she approached the throne, ignoring the whispers of the courtiers to either side. Two guards flanked her, but she didn’t fight or resist, so they were unnecessary. She walked straight towards the throne, eyes locked on her husband.
As she reached the base of the dais upon which the throne was mounted, Edwina knelt and lowered her eyes. She kept her gaze on the bottom step of the dais and waited for him to speak.
She didn’t have to wait long. “Edwina,” he left off her title and didn’t refer to her as his wife, certainly a deliberate snub, “you have been found guilty of treason. You are here to be sentenced by the Senate.”
Pretty words, but she knew that he had already decided her sentence. He was her King and her husband. It was his right by law. He might pretend that the Senate had something to do with it, but she knew the truth.
“Your lover has been executed for his treason. I had thought to sentence you to the same fate.” His voice was cold and unfeeling, typical of the King.
Edwina heard his words and felt a pang of fear. He could do it, order her death. He wouldn’t lose a single night’s sleep over it. But his next words were even more frightening.
“However, I’d rather make an example of you.” Though she dared not glance up, she could hear the sinister smile on his face. “You are to be exiled.”
The gathered crowd gasped, astounded. Exile was an uncommon sentence, used only for the criminally insane. Exile almost always resulted in death, but it was not considered a death sentence. A kinder or crueler way to punish the insane, depending on how you looked at it. It was not a punishment for adultery.
Inside, Edwina was shaking. Outwardly, however, she remained composed and said nothing. She did not even acknowledge his words.
But he wasn’t finished yet. “Your son shall accompany you into exile.”
Her head snapped up and she whispered “No,” as a wave of protest went through the courtiers. To exile a child for the crimes of the mother was unheard of. Hushed voices and raised shouts filled the throne room.
“Silence!” the King commanded, furious at being interrupted.
It took several moments, but the crowd was calmed by the insistent presence of the Royal Guard. When silence reigned, Edwina met Cadfael’s eyes.
“My lord, may I approach?” She kept her voice soft so that he would not hear it waver. At his terse nod she rose and climbed the stairs until she was beside his throne. Edwina knelt once more and placed a trembling hand on Cadfael’s knee. She felt the tension there, the tightly-leashed anger. She must proceed carefully. Her voice was a bare whisper when she finally spoke. “Please, my lord, I made a mistake. I betrayed you. I am guilty as charged. Please do not punish your son for my crimes.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is he my son?”
“I swear he is.” She tightened her grip on his knee. “I will take any oath you require. No one but you shared my bed before Darian was born.” She’d said all she could. It was his decision now.
As his eyes held hers, Edwina could see the doubt, anger, and desire he struggled with. He wanted to believe her, but he was infuriated by the very idea of another man sharing her body. She was his, and no other had the right to touch her. She couldn’t blame him for that. But there was something more in his gaze, something she hadn’t expected. He still wanted her, at his side, in his bed. It was even possible that Cadfael regretted ignoring her since she had conceived their son five years before.
She saw all this in his eyes and couldn’t hate him. She’d loved him once, and such passionate love did not easily turn to true hate. She pitied him, she pitied herself, and wished for a brief moment that she could turn back time.
Then she made a critical error. Her mouth curved in a smile, her eyes softened, and she reached for him. Her hand moved from his knee up towards his face, slowly but surely.
Cadfael’s eyes darkened and his mouth tightened. He stood and moved away from her and Edwina knew she’d gone too far. She should have waited, should have let him make the first move.
But she hadn’t and it was too late now. She lowered her head to hide the despair she knew would be reflected in her brilliant green eyes. She didn’t move when his next words came, harsh and unforgiving.
“You will go from this place immediately, little whore. You will take your son, but nothing else.” He paused while the crowd shifted uncomfortably. “If you return to Scytha, now or at any point in the future, the city guards will be instructed to carry out your execution. Any Republicans who aid you, provide you with food or shelter, will be punished.”
She glanced up, a plea in her eyes.
He ignored it. “I hope you have a skill you can trade for food and lodging.” He smiled cruelly and raked his eyes over her body. “That shouldn’t be a problem for a whore.”
Edwina lowered her head in humiliation. When the guards took her by the arms, she didn’t protest. When they brought her son to her, she cradled him to her chest and walked proudly from the throne room, two guards at her heels.
***
Edwina gathered the tiny baby to her chest and laid back, exhausted. She’d had to deliver her own baby since she would allow none of the villagers to help her for fear of seeing them punished. It had been difficult, but she’d made it through and now had a precious baby girl to love and protect.
“Darian,” she called out as she fluffed the blanket in an effort to get comfortable. She knew he was waiting just beyond the tiny chamber.
The door opened and he slipped into the room, his eyes wide. She knew then that he must have heard her stifled cries and regretted that he had to be subjected to such things. It wasn’t right for a Prince of the Realm to live so.
She held out a hand. “Come, sweetheart. It’s all right. Come and meet your new half-sister.”
The boy moved forward and climbed onto the bed beside his mother. He watched the baby for a moment, smiling at her tiny wrinkled body. He poked at her hand and giggled as she pulled it away from him. “What’s her name?”
“Arianna,” she responded. “After my grandmother.”
Darian was silent for several moments more. Finally, he glanced at this mother. “Now can we go home?”
Edwina head the plea in his voice and forced back the tears. This was a happy day, and the new baby deserved no tears. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
She saw something close to despair in his eyes, something no child should feel. “When?” he all but wailed.
Glancing away, Edwina could only shake her head.
