Treatise on the Ethics of Vampires - seven

seven

Sunlight peeped through the cream colored gossamer bed curtains. A faded blue coverlet was up to my chin, tucked around me. It took some effort to kick the covers off, but once freed, I noted that I had been stripped down to my shift. Although I was covered from neck to ankle, I never felt so exposed in my life.

Who was this man to remove my clothing? Your husband, with God-given rights over your body and soul, my mind replied. The thought did naught to quell a sense of foreboding. For as long as I could remember, the only people I answered to was God, Lord Jesu, Father, Mother, and occasionally Grandmother Bet. Everyone else gave me a wide berth. It was unsettling, this thought of someone new and unknown having complete ownership over me. If he willed it, I could be killed on whim, and fully within the law. I swallowed hard. Grandmother was right; I must be wary, indeed.

Wafting through the curtains was the unmistakable scent of roasted meat, freshly baked bread and tangy cheese. Like a beast screaming to be unleashed, my stomach growled and the pangs of hunger attacked. In a food-lust, I tore open the curtains and scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping on my shift's hem. I plopped myself into a chair and tore into the repast left upon the table.

Cold roasted capon, with a light dusting of salt and thyme garnered my attention first. I tore a leg and thigh off, and put it on one of the wooden plates left next to the serving platter. Next was the bread-- there were no knives at the table, as people were expected to provide their own or eat with their hands-- so I tore off an end of the still-warm loaf with relish. The cheese was a pot with a wooden spoon stuck in some runny French frommage with an atrocious scent. But smothered upon bread, it was more delectable than words can convey. There was a small bowl with four red apples in it, next to the cheese. There were an earthen jug of fruity-smelling red wine and two cups upon the table as well, and I helped myself to the potent brew to slake my thirst.

The door to the room opened slowly, and Rowan peeped his head around the wooden door and saw me drinking my second cup of the delicious wine.

“Good, you have awoken.” He made it sound almost dire.

“I did not mean to oversleep.' I said after swallowing a mouthful of perfectly roasted capon. “What time is it?”

“It is mid-morning. You were tired from all that has occurred. I did not think it would take almost three days for you to recover though.” Rowan looked intently into my face, I suppose to determine if I was ill.

I however, was flabbergasted. Three days? I slept for three days? “Well, that certainly explains my ravenous appetite today. Have I truly slept three days?”

He smiled. “Three days and nary a snore. But we cannot linger. We leave tonight on the tide. I've secured a berth on a ship heading for Marseille, and the first port is to be Hareflot.” Rowan stopped speaking and seemed to debate with himself before continuing. “Once we reach France, there will be little time to dally. The countryside is aflame with war as King Charles asserts himself. I don't anticipate being held up, as peddlers are generally welcome because of the news and goods we bring, but....” his voice trailed off into thought. “A new king sits on the English throne, a lad of fourteen. There's a revolt brewing. Best we leave these shores and quickly.”

My patience wore thin. “But....?” I wanted to put my attention back on the meal. The pit in my stomach wasn't even half filled. I learned that day that sleep could indeed make one ravenous.

“You will dress as male, as I do not trust soldiers near my wife, should we encounter them.”

In a facetious moment, I glanced down at my bosom and then looked back at him. “I am to disguise myself as a boy? If peddlers are tolerated, wouldn't their womenfolk be as well?” I could bind my breasts, but if I could escape wrapping my bosom so tight it laid flat enough to pass as male, I would surely welcome it.

Without hesitation he replied. “Aye. A short tunic, hose and a cloak. Your shoes will do. I do not trust soldiers in a bloodlust or boredom to not harass a comely woman. Were it peacetime, I would not insist on the precaution. Can you ride astride?”

Although I admired the creatures, I had never been exposed to horses on a riding basis. Horses were for the rich. Travel was done by oxen pulled cart or by foot by those of less fiscal solvency. The only horses I ever encountered were the occasional ones my father shod in his shop, and I was never permitted to get close to them. Can I ride a horse? Oh yes, about as well as lead floats. “No, I've never been astride a horse. Or on one.” My lack of enthusiasm for this new twist was evident. That Rowan thought me comely, that softened the reality of travel a bit.

“Oh. Well, you can hold onto the pommel. I'll fasten a rope around your waist and attach to the saddle so you can't fall off. Your cloak will hide it. But we must do so under the cover of darkness. This is a port town, a funnel of information for every country that likes having such knowledge available. There are ears everywhere in ports, and more so where there's war brewing or afoot. We travel by a wine merchant's ship and it is most fortuitous indeed that his shipment was short several barrels, else there wouldn't be room for the wagon. Horses get to ride on the deck in a pen while my young cousin and I get to share a cabin for the two day journey. We bring our own provisions, the ship will provide the water for the horses while we drink whatever we bring aboard.”

I couldn't believe this was happening. I never imagined finding myself in a position of traveling, let alone in disguise to France of all places. Or married to a traveling peddler with a penchant for secrecy, for that matter. It was almost too much to take in.

“After we land in Hareflot, how long will it be to reach your holding?” I sipped at the wine, savoring how it complimented the cheese well. It may have been a four day fast that contributed to the exceptional flavor of the inn's fare.

There was a stern set to his whisker-shadowed jaw and he looked thoughtful. “About a week, more if we have to dodge soldiers.”

“Will you tell me about your home?” A sense of incredulous wonder washed over me. I imagined a castle worthy of one of Grandmother Bet's fairy stories.

A dreamy look made an appearance on his face. “It is called Lonbec. The chateau is upriver from Evreux, off a tributary of the Seine. It isn't grand, just built of pink stone and sits upon and into a hillock that overlooks the river. There are apple and pear orchards, a forest with a tiny lake behind the chateau and meadows for grazing my cattle. It is where I go to seek peace from the world.” Rowan's voice trailed off, and I smiled at the wistfulness it held. “There is a village, and they have served the D'Morsang family since the Roman times.”

“I know so little about you. So you are French? I had thought you Anglo-Norman, since you do not speak with an accent.”

“I am not French, although I settled there a few years back.” He said it nonchalantly.

“Yet you have a French last name. D'Morsang. “ I couldn't' help but remind him of that simple fact.

He smirked. “A name, also bought. Comes with the estate in Normandy.”

My jaw dropped. No, I had not merely married a stranger; I married a total stranger whose true name I did not know. My heart thundered in my chest and I took a deep breath to quell the rising panic.

“If you are not Rowan Eleazar D'Morsang, then who are you?” I looked boldly into his face, and tried to do my best impression of Grandmother Bet's intimidating stare. I was able to look him in the eyes and be in control of myself for the first time. It was a sensation I never forgot-- my rage nullified that powerful magnetism of his.

“Oh, I am Rowan Eleazar D'Morsang, make no mistake. But that is not who I once was and who I will eventually be.” His gaze softened, and he searched my eyes.

“You again speak in riddles.” He sought to deny me knowledge, and more than anything it frustrated me to distraction. “I want to know whom I wed. You tell me you are not who you claim to be, you gain this room by mentioning a Master George – whom I am also curious about-- all the while you speak and tell me nothing. I am not a simpleton to be quelled with your carefully-crafted replies. I asked. Please answer.” Being put off made me feel as though he was toying with me, and I liked it not.

His temper flamed and I kept trying to freeze him with an icy glare. “Wife, do you not remember that I said you will be told?” Rowan sat at the table, across from me and tried to intimidate me with his hard gaze. He had no idea that I learned from the best, Grandmother Bet. I could stare back for hours, if need be.

“Aye, I do remember, and lo and behold, husband, we’ve been wed a week! Surely you could have imparted this information sometime since we left my home.” I kept my voice at a steady, calm tone. I did not want to stoke his anger any more than I already had because I did not know what he was capable of doing when roused.

Those apple-green eyes of his closed, he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. A deep sigh escaped, he recovered himself and again addressed me. “I will tell you all you seek to know when it is safe to do so. I have already said too much and the walls have ears. When we reach Lonbec and you, Madame D'Morsang, take up the keys of your new home, I will tell you all you wish. You have my word on it.”

With a blink, my icy glare melted and I felt like an ass. “Am I being unreasonable in wanting to know who my husband is?” I asked softly.

Another deep sigh of his blew past his lips. “No, you are not being unreasonable in wanting to know. But you would be more reasonable if you would wait until we reach home so that I can speak freely.” His tone indicated the conversation was over.

However, I did not see it that way. “Is there anything about the true you I can know? Such as kin? Have you any kin?'

“No, not anymore. They died long ago. But I had two sisters and a brother and their families. Mother and Father. Host of cousins.”

The wistful way he said it made me wonder if some tragedy befell them all. Maybe something horrid happened and he fled his homeland for France. That made sense to me, and for the time being my curiosity eased. My mouth had gotten dry during our first marital spat, and I drank my wine. The sweet libation was better than I thought wine could be, as ale is what common-folk drank. Wine was for the wealthy. “So we wait until dark before I make an appearance as your male cousin, and I am to remain in this guise until we reach Lonbec?” I changed the topic to a more neutral one.

“Yes. I suggest you get more rest, as we shall set a fast pace once we land in France.”

I just spent three days asleep. The thought of more sleep seemed ridiculous, especially since there was an adventure afoot. When all was said and done, he stoked my excitement to the point of sleep being impossible for the time being. “I do not think I can rest. My mind is much too active with the thought of sailing to Hareflot. I've heard of it, but to see it? You were correct when you said I would see things I never thought. Thank you.”

His head twitched in a manner that bespoke of surprise. “Why are you thanking me, exactly?”

The wine made my blood warm, lulling me into a soft blanket of respite. “For keeping your word to me.” I thought it should be obvious to him, and I spoke slowly as if he were momentarily dimwitted.

“I gathered that. Have you been deceived so much in your life that you must thank those who are honest to you, Lisbet?”

How was I to answer that? I settled for the diplomatic approach as I studied the contents of my near-empty cup. “Other than my family, I tended to keep to myself and study my craft.” Awkward was how I felt, and although I had slept much, the potent wine began to make me very drowsy. Bed called. and so I made my way back to the comfortable feather mattress. “I fear I have not the head for wine,” I said through a yawn.

I snuggled down and closed my eyes. I didn't think I would sleep, just think with my eyes closed. Had I been aware how strong the wine was, I would have enjoyed only a single cup. Then, without warning, I felt the other side of the bed dip down. My tipsiness evaporated after a moment while I sat up. “What are you doing?” I squeaked, heart in throat.

“Resting, same as you. I don't recall you complaining the past three nights.” He said it so drolly, I was not sure if he jested. His arms were crossed beneath his head, cradling it. Rowan's eyes were closed and I took that moment to truly study his features. He wasn't as tall as my father was, but close. His thick auburn hair possessed a slight curl. A wide brow ran down into an elegant nose. His jaw, square and fringed with a short beard. His bottom lip was fuller than the upper. But the part that made womenfolk sigh in delight was the dimple in his chin. It was quite endearing.

“Do you mean to say you have slept alongside me since we've arrived in Dartmouth?” My incredulous question echoed off the whitewashed timbered walls.

“I mean exactly that, and since this is the last time I get to sleep comfortably alongside my wife until I reach my own home, I plan to enjoy it without pointless squabbling. You will surely have mal-de-mer, as it will be your first voyage upon a ship. We haven't much time to recover in Hareflot. So rest, Lisbet. Drink more wine if you must to relax, but please get your rest. You will need it for what lies ahead.”

He would know, as it was evident he made the trip many times before. I should rest, but he irked me something fierce, and I wanted the last word. His calmness made me feel like a cat that had its fur rubbed the wrong way. That calm voice merely added wood to the wine-fueled fire. “Very well, Rowan. But I tell you this now, I look forward to our conversation when we reach Lonbec with much anticipation.” I settled back down, and kept close to my side of the bed so I didn't touch him. At that moment, I didn't really care about maturity, so I crossed my arms across my chest, in a physically defiant gesture.

He feigned a yawn. “I am sure you do.”

“Oh, I do.” A curt tone should have ended the conversation. I would have preferred to have walked off my anger, but I knew nothing of this town and a woman alone near the docks was not safe. Rowan told me that. I didn't even know where my clothing was at the moment. I felt trapped, and at this point, his nature had shown him to be a patient man, unlike some men who beat their women for talking back or having an opinion.

“Must you have the last word?” He called me on it, and blood rushed to my face.

“At this moment, yes. Yes, I do.” Perhaps adopting Ginny's cold disdainful tone would silence this infuriating man.

“I am going to pretend it is dark in here and sleep. So good night, Lisbet.” He flopped onto his side, his back facing me.

“Good night, Rowan.” I crooned in falsely dulcet tones I never thought myself capable of making. I wanted to laugh at his body twitch, him smothering a chuckle.

Provoking him further would gain me nothing. I just lost everything. I knew naught what I would do if I were alone in the world. Wolves of the two and four footed variety made meals of such people. Safety is in numbers, preferably one's family or home village where one has ties. I had my healing skills, and now a husband. I would take a lighthearted approach to him, perhaps that was the way to deal with him. He smiled often, after all.

But Rowan laughed. “You truly are one of a kind, Lisbet.” His mesmerizing voice indicated it was a compliment.

“Thank you.” I said it softly, glad he and I had both calmed down. I relaxed my arms and tried to make myself comfortable. It felt odd sharing my sleeping space so intimately with another. But I couldn't close my eyes and sleep, for my mind was buzzing like a drunken beehive. Instead, I recited information from mother's herbals in my head. White willow bark: tea for pain, poultice for warts... I continued on this train of thought until the sky grew dark and Rowan grew restless as he began to wake up.

I looked to him and then looked out the window at the growing dark. “It is time.”

He smiled and replied, “Are you ready for a new life, my dear?”

And thus it began.