“Gavan?”
The big man did not move; there was no indication that he had even heard Richmond’s softly uttered hail. Arissa watched Richmond with big eyes as he slowly knelt beside his friend, concern in his expression.
“Gavan, do you hear me?”
Again he was met with no response. Feeling a growing measure of despondency, he cast a long glance at Arissa and was about to make a third attempt when Gavan suddenly shifted on his bent knees.
“I hear you.”
Richmond let out a long, heavy sigh. “The hour grows late. Mayhap you would allow Arissa and I to escort you back to camp.”
Gavan shifted again and his head came up, his impassive expression barely visible under the cloud-shrouded moon glow. He stared at the hilt of his sword as if the semi-precious jewels encrusted in the hilt contained all of the answers he was seeking. Over his shoulder and several feet away, Arissa could feel his pain as if it were her very own. Tears renewed themselves in thepale green eyes as she gazed at the once-mighty warrior, all but crumpled with grief and agony.
She could only empathize with his pain; knowing that if anything ever happened to Richmond, surely she would not want to live, either. She knew that her grief would kill her.
“I killed her,” Gavan said after a moment, his voice faint and raspy. “I killed her with my massive seed. She was far too small to carry my son. I…. I should have known, Richmond. I should have known.”
Arissa swallowed hard, hearing Richmond’s word echoing in her mind. But Richmond did not look at her; he was focused on Gavan.
“That is simply not true,” Richmond replied softly. “What happened was the will of God, Gavan. You must not believe you had anything to do with her death.”
Gavan’s hands came up, gripping the sword with fierce intensity as he walked the fine line between reason and madness. “God is punishing me. He’s proving my worthlessness by taking away what is most precious in my life,” he suddenly grasped the hilt of the sword, driving it deeper into the earth, carving through the damp soil as he wanted to carve out his own heart. “God is punishing me for my shortcomings. Perhaps He’s punishing me for not being pious enough or for creating more widows than I can count. In battle, they say all is forgiven in heaven and hell, but that is not the truth. God is punishing me, Richmond. I have become his fallen.”
Richmond was distressed. “Untrue, my friend. Kathryn succumbed to a familiar happening and nothing more. This has nothing to do with punishment.”
Gavan suddenly bolted to his feet, weaving dangerously as a startled Richmond nearly stumbled in his attempt to regain his footing. Gavan’s face was filled with more emotion than Richmond had ever seen. “You do not understand, Richmond,”he exploded with madness. “God is condemning me by taking my wife.”
Arissa let out a choked sob, rushing to Gavan in a great billowing cloud of soft wool. Throwing her arms about the man’s waist, she sobbed loudly into his chest, absorbing the anguish from his soul as if it were her own.
Watching him descend into the depths of agonizing madness frightened her; Gavan had always been an exceedingly kind and gentle man, his wisdom and rationality unmatched. To observe his plummet into the bowels of grief was a truly terrifying event; not knowing how else to save him, she grabbed hold of him as if to physically prevent him from plunging further and further into the realm of dementia.
“Gavan, please do not curse yourself,” she murmured urgently. “You did not kill her, nor is God punishing you. Please do not hate yourself for loving your wife enough to give her a son,” her head came up, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed into his tormented eyes. “Any woman will tell you that the risk of bringing forth a son for the man they love is worth the threat of death. It is considered an honor to devote one’s life to something so selflessly that you would be willing to die for it, is it not?”
Gavan gazed at her, unbalanced and disoriented. But he managed a slight nod and Arissa forced a smile through her anguished tears. “You would willingly die for England, or Richmond, would you not? And you would do it a thousand times over were you given the choice because you love them so,” she sniffled, releasing one arm from him and wiping daintily at her eyes. “’Tis the same with women and childbearing, Gavan. To bear a child for the man you love, to provide him with a legacy, is the greatest honor any woman could ask for. Death is simply a part of that choice and you cannot blame yourself for a risk she was more than willing to take.”
He stared at her, hearing a powerful rational in her softly spoken words. He was tremendously torn between the desire to seek comfort in her intelligence and the undisputable evidence of God’s wrath. As Arissa gazed into his tortured brown depths, silently beseeching him to come to reason, he closed his eyes and looked away from her; he could not entertain the notion that, mayhap, she was correct. He knew for certain he had as much as killed his beloved Kathryn himself.
“God is… He’s…,” he stammered, refusing to look at her.
Arissa squeezed him tightly, firmly. “He’snotpunishing you. Kathryn has died attempting to complete a most noble task. Are you going to disgrace her by casting the blame upon yourself to divert attention from her sacrifice?”
He swallowed hard, meeting her urgent gaze with the utmost reluctance. Bits and pieces of her wisdom were succeeding in penetrating his brittle shell, weakening him and strengthening him at the same time. The longer he gazed at her, the more his reasoning began to return.
He suddenly let out a huge sob, collapsing to his knees and nearly taking Arissa with him had Richmond not grabbed her. Gavan wrapped his massive arms about Arissa, pressing his face into her soft abdomen as if to hide from the reality that threatened, the truth that cut him to the bone. Richmond stood behind her, supporting her against Gavan’s considerable weight and putting his arms about the both of them. Wrapped in two pairs of comforting arms, Gavan allowed his tears to come.
“She died for me,” he sobbed.
Arissa’s tears fell onto his light brown hair. “She died for you both. There is no sorrow in a noble sacrifice, Gavan. Only gratitude and love. You must remember that.”
The dark December sky crowded with gray-puff clouds, threatening rain as three grieving mortals huddled beneath it. But God did not choose to add to the sorrow that cloaked themuddy field; a brisk sea breeze gently whisked the clouds away, leaving the night a brilliant, beautiful thing indeed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Whitby Abbey wasnestled upon the sheer cliffs of the Yorkshire coast, a looming gray sentinel above the churning waters. A large structure, moody and silent, Arissa took one look at her future home and burst into tears. Seated on the wagon bed, Emma did her best to comfort her friend as she too drew in the imposing sight.
The caravan passed through the eastern portion of the North York Moors, hugging the coastline as they drew closer to the stone abbey. It could be seen in the distance for several miles, hanging on the horizon as if silently beckoning the approaching horde into her gaping jaws. After her first glimpse, Arissa refused to look at the structure any longer and turned her back on it stubbornly. With every step her grief took greater foothold and she sobbed quietly into her kerchief as Emma held her hand.
Although his reaction had not been quite as emotional, Richmond too felt the distinct pressure of sorrow as his eyes beheld the abbey with the solid reputation. The closer the column drew, the weightier the sentiment became until he found himself looking away from the structure. He just couldn’t stomach to look at it anymore.
