"Hemurdered you." Eada fought the sudden, almost overwhelming need to look atthe man at her side.
"Bah,the poor fool was but God's tool. I leapt in front of a warhorse." Edithlaughed, but it quickly became a rasping cough which brought the warmth of herown blood into her mouth. "Do not blame the man for this, child. He is nomurderer of old women. I saw the look of horror on his face as I fell beneathhis horse. Do not fight him, Eada, for he is your destiny. But, do notsurrender too completely. Ah, but my Eada never would. You have such spirit,and wit. More than most men want in a woman."
"Edith,I cannot—"
"Youcan. You will fight it a little, but God's will cannot be changed. Justremember all I have told you on this day. Now, in my cottage in the large chestthere rests a smaller one. Take it. Once I had a finer life, a man, and achild."
"Whereare they?" Eada asked, wondering if Edith spoke the truth or had becomelost in the delirium of approaching death.
"Close.God blessed me with a child when I was nearly too old to bear one; but withthat precious gift He gave me the knowledge of things to come. Few people canbear that. I lost all—my man, my child, my home, and nearly my life. Take thebox, child, and read the truth I have hidden within it. And take my other giftto you now as well, although you may well curse me tenfold for giving it toyou."
BeforeEada could ask the old woman what she meant, Edith gripped her hands with astrength that astonished her. She met Edith's steady gaze and was captured byit. The old woman's eyes seemed to grow larger until Eada felt lost in them. Shebegan to feel light-headed, nauseated, but still could not free herself.
"Alwaysthink, Eada, but always follow your heart." Old Edith's voice pounded inEada's mind. "And always remember this old woman who loved you."
"Icould never forget you," Eada whispered, her voice choked with tears. Asshe bent to kiss Edith's cheek, she heard the breath of life flee the batteredwoman's body and her hands were abruptly freed.
Herhand shaking, Eada tenderly closed Edith's eyes. She felt painfully alone. In thecourse of but a few hours, her home had been lost to her, her family had fledto a place unknown to her, and Old Edith had died right before her eyes. Eadastarted to rise only to feel her legs weaken and her head swim.
Whenthe Norman crouched by her side moved to catch her as she stumbled, she finallylooked right at him. For one brief moment she was held captive by the dark eyesstaring at her through the helmet, then rage filled her, pushing aside her painand unsteadiness.
"Murderer,"she cried and leapt at the man she saw as the cause of all her grief andconfusion.
Evenas Drogo reached out to try and catch hold of her, he thought wildly that herlarge lavender eyes were beautiful as they sparkled with fury and hate. Whenshe slammed her body into his, he tumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Hecursed when his helmet fell off and rolled out of his reach, but his fullattention was swiftly captured by the furious woman who leapt upon him.
Eadagot a firm grip on his sweat-dampened, thick hair beneath his loose mail hood.Cursing him with every breath, she repeatedly banged his head against theground. Just as the pressure he was exerting on her wrists began to loosen hergrip upon his hair, she felt strong arms encircle her and she was roughlypulled off of the man. The Norman who now held her did so in such a way thatshe could only flail uselessly with her feet.
Alow snarl halted her indulgence in that fruitless activity. Eada saw that herhounds were ready to attack the man despite not being fighting dogs. A quickglance at the other men—including the one she had just attacked, who stumbledto his feet, rubbing and shaking his head revealed that they all had theirswords drawn. They were ready to cut her pets down at the first hint of an attack.
"Callthe dogs off, child," Serle growled in her ear, musing that she was a nicelittle bundle of female to hold. "They have fine, sharp teeth, but theywill be dead before those teeth can cut through the mail we wear."
Althoughthe man spoke to her in French, a language he could not know she wouldunderstand, Eada felt she could still obey his command without revealing herknowledge. It was clear what had to be done. "Ligulf. Ordway." Shesaid the dogs' names in a sharp voice, and her pets grew still. "Gooddogs. Easy now, lads." She breathed a sigh of relief when the dogs ceasedto bristle.
Sinceshe had grown still, the man-holding her slowly released her. Her anger gone,she moved toward Edith, easily pushing aside the need to study the man Edithhad said she was destined for. Although small, she was strong, and she pickedup Edith's broken body with ease. Eada heaved a sigh of sadness when sherealized that her old friend was little more than skin and bones. She enteredthe cottage, intending to prepare Edith for burial.
Drogogaped after the girl then shook his head. He would never have believed thatsuch a tiny woman could have the strength to carry even the frail old woman.Neither would he have expected such a tiny woman to attack him with such fury.One thought that did trouble him was the girl's presence at the cottage. Hishorse had acted like it had scented her dogs just outside of town and hadcontinued to act that way all the way to the cottage. Drogo could not believethat the girl had followed them the whole way from Pevensey. Unable to answerhis own questions, he shook his head again and forced his thoughts elsewhere.
"Wemust dig a grave for the old woman," Drogo told his men. "Tancred,you were trained to be a priest so you must know what needs to be said."
"Wellenough," Tancred agreed reluctantly as Unwin and Serle moved to search outsomething to dig a grave with. "I will need a moment or two to recall itclearly."
"Thereis time," Drogo murmured as he watched the girl step from the cottage tofetch some water from a barrel.
Tancredsmiled when he saw how Drogo watched the young woman's every graceful moveuntil she disappeared back inside of the cottage and then drawled, "Was itnot you who reminded me earlier that we search for food? You will leave thegirl here, of course."
Drogopicked up his helmet and looked at the hounds. "Her beasts may remainhere."
"Thoseanimals will not desert her unless you cut their throats," Serle said ashe strode back from behind the cottage.
"Serle,tell him what we have found," a pale Unwin urged the older man.
"Calmyourself, boy. There is no need to dig a grave, Drogo, nor to make a marker ifI guess the meaning of these scratches correctly." Serle handed Drogo asmall plaque of rough wood.
Thetraining he had received during a few long years spent at a monastery gaveDrogo the skill to read the scratches even though the words were somewhatstrange. He felt superstition stir to life within him. "It says Edith ofChichester and this day's date," he whispered, fighting for calm.
"Sorcery,"Unwin hissed, and he crossed himself.
Serlesnorted in contempt. "I have known of many men who knew just before theyrode off to battle that they were facing their last fight. Since those men wereChristians, I can only assume that God must choose one person now and again towarn them that their time is nigh. I have never seen one this well preparedthough."
