Saxon Lady

Since ’twas summer’s end, the storehouse was nearly empty, but piles of burning debris obstructed Aelia’s progress through the building. She pressed the rag against her mouth and nose, but soon began to have difficulty catching her breath. A fiery beam cracked and fell in her path, and she tripped.

“Osric!” Her voice was a mere rasp now, and she did not know if he would hear her. She had to move on. If he was still inside the building, he could very well be unconscious.

She heard a groan nearby, and pushed herself up. “Where are you?” she called out.

“Here!” ’Twas not Osric, but an older man called Leof, who had once been a warrior in her father’s fyrd.

Aelia crawled to the man and helped him to a sitting position. “Have you seen Osric?”

“No, my lady.”

Aelia swallowed her frustration and spoke quickly. “You must get out of here!”

“I cannot walk. My leg—it’s broken!”

The fire roared around them. Finding Osric was hopeless now, and Aelia knew she would be lucky to get herself and Leof out of the storehouse.

“I’ll help you up. Lean on me!”

Another beam crashed to the floor nearby, and Aelia knew the roof was likely to fall in at any moment. Somehow, she managed to get Leof to his feet. She pulled his arm ’round her shoulders and held on to him, supporting his weight as he limped back in the direction of the door.

But Aelia could barely see where she was leading him.

“I cannot breathe,” Leof rasped.

“Keep moving!”

Aelia heard a man’s voice call her name, and wondered if it was her imagination. Another crash behind them spurred her on. “Come, Leof—not much farther!”

“Aelia!”

Fitz Autier’s face came into view. He wasted no time, but knelt before Leof and pulled the man into an awkward embrace. When the Norman stood again, Leof lay draped over his shoulder and he was moving away from her. “Let’s go!”

She blinked smoke from her eyes and followed in his wake, grateful for his assistance and trusting that he knew the way out. Yet she despaired Osric’s loss. The building was about to collapse and Aelia knew she could not go back. The heat was unbearable as it was.

And Osric was likely already dead.

Aelia choked on a sob and blindly followed Fitz Autier out of the storehouse. She was torn, desperate for air and cooler temperatures, but horrified by her inability to save her brother. She felt light-headed and ill, struggling for every breath.

“Move, Aelia! I cannot carry both of you!”

Aelia bristled. Fitz Autier would never have to carry her. She hurried alongside him, ducking the falling embers and skirting the debris on the ground.

A wall of flame roared up behind them and Fitz Autier grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him, until they were outside and clear of the building. Aelia fell to the earth, coughing.

She was still trying to catch her breath when the entire storehouse collapsed. Aelia heard shouts and screams of panic all ’round her, but paid them no heed as she coughed and wheezed.

Fitz Autier lowered Leof to the ground and knelt beside Aelia, fighting to catch his own breath. His bare arms gleamed with sweat and his face was covered with soot.

“Of all the witless… What were you thinking, going in there?” he demanded angrily between bursts of coughing.

“Osric! He’s…” The full impact of Aelia’s loss hit her, and she began to weep. She had failed in her duty to Ingelwald, and had been unable to rescue Osric. What happened to her now was of little consequence. If Fitz Autier chose to execute her here and now, ’twould be no less than she deserved.

Mayhap the black ash in her lungs would kill her first.

She pushed herself up off the ground, but her movement was impeded by Fitz Autier’s iron grip on her upper arm. Aelia shook off his hand and rose unsteadily to her feet, turning to gaze upon the site of her brother’s death. Emotion welled in her chest and she whirled away from the charred storehouse amid the shouts of the people all ’round her. Tears blurred her vision, but she managed to see Fitz Autier’s big, blond companion push his way through the crowd, dragging a kicking, screaming boy with one massive hand.

Osric!

“Tell the bastard to turn me loose!” he bellowed as though he were lord and master here. As if he had not just barely escaped with his life.

The blood rushed from Aelia’s head and she remained standing only because someone slipped his arm ’round her waist and supported her from behind. “Osric!” she wheezed.

An expressionless Auvrai d’Evreux held on to Osric as he pulled the boy toward Aelia and dropped him unceremoniously at her feet. “This is the one who torched the storehouse.”

“You lie, Norman. My brother would never—”

Osric jumped to his feet and dashed away from Sir Auvrai’s reach. “I knew they would have to set us free if the building was on fire!” His tone was defiant.

The blood suddenly drained from Aelia’s head. “Osric, no! You could have killed so many…” She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. There had to be some additional explanation for Osric’s actions. Surely he had understood the danger of a fire in the center of the village. And now he risked immediate retaliation by their Norman conquerors. “Leof almost died in there.”

“As did your sister, boy,” said Fitz Autier. He kept one hand at her waist as he confronted Osric. “Lock him in again with the other prisoners, Auvrai. The boy’s a menace. He needs to be watched all night.”

“Please let me stay with him!” Aelia cried, relieved once more that Fitz Autier had not seen fit to kill them both.

“And wreak more havoc on this holding? No. He will remain under guard until I order otherwise.”

With little effort Auvrai lifted Osric and tossed him over his shoulder. The knight was impervious to the boy’s kicks and blows as he carried him away from Aelia, who felt suddenly weightless. She would have fallen to the ground had Fitz Autier not held her up.

“But I can see to it that he does no more damage.”

“No, demoiselle. He is no longer your responsibility.”

“He is my brother. I—”

“Enough! Look around you!”

Her people were quiet now, all watching scornfully as Sir Auvrai carried Osric away. They’d heard Osric admit that he’d set fire to the storehouse, putting so many Saxons in danger. He may have intended to get them all free, but had endangered all the buildings in the village. As it was, the storehouse was gone, and the stable had nearly been destroyed.

The Saxons must view Osric as the enemy now—not Fitz Autier, who had risked all to stand on the stable roof, toiling at his own personal risk to douse the flames.

’Twas a horrible end to a dreadful day.

Mathieu was furious. He did not know what made him angrier—knowing that the little Saxon brat had set the fire intentionally, or seeing Aelia run into the burning building.

She might have been killed.

He forced himself to release her. Whatever he’d felt when he’d seen her dash into the storehouse was just a momentary distraction from his purpose here. He needed his prisoners alive and well enough to travel to London. King William expected it.