Chapter Twenty
It was about twenty miles from Pontefract to Doncaster, so not a terribly long distance in the grand scheme of things. But to Cassius, it seemed like a lifetime.
Time was moving so very slowly.
They’d departed Pontefract in the early afternoon, riding hard south, but not hard enough because the horses from Doncaster had already made that trek and were tired, so the men didn’t push them too much.
Cassius couldn’t push too much, either – Old Man was fat and lazy from having spent over a week eating and sleeping, and Argos was running alongside, which wasn’t something the dog normally did.
About halfway into their ride, Cassius had to stop and pick the dog up.
He handed the animal over to Rhori, who kept the dog in front of him as they continued down the road.
But exhausted horses, and fat horses, made for a slower journey then Cassius had hoped for.
It was late afternoon when the lands of Doncaster began to come into view.
The meadows were green, the trees tall and proud and fresh, and Cassius had a strange feeling that he was coming home again.
In just the few days he had been at Doncaster, less than two weeks to be truthful, he felt something for the place because it belonged to Dacia. As she had said, she was Doncaster.
It was strange how he could feel her everywhere.
He wasn’t feeling so drunk by the time they reached Doncaster’s lands.
A brisk ride for several hours had the desired effect of sobering him up.
Before he’d left the tavern, however, he had spent quality time in a rain barrel in the stable yard because it was full of cold, fresh water and, at that point, he was desperate to sober up.
Therefore, he had dunked his entire body into it and the brisk temperature had the desired effect.
Mostly, anyway. He was a shivering drunk now, but at least not as drunk as he had been.
There was more to come.
In the preparations for leaving, Rhori had managed to obtain a pitcher of boiled cider for Cassius, which he drank until there was nothing left. He also ate more bread and meat. He did all of the things that a man is supposed to do to sober up because he desperately wanted his wits about him.
He needed them.
Once the ride to Doncaster began, as his senses returned, so did his focus and sense of dread. He tried hard not to think on why they were going there, but he kept hearing Darian’s words over and over in his mind –
Dacia may be dying…
Dacia may be dying…
Those words were like tiny daggers tearing at him, poking holes at his composure, trying furiously to rattle him.
He fought against those words more desperately then he had ever fought anything in his life.
He tried to focus on the good news, the news that Amata had confessed her sins to the priests and to the villagers.
He tried to focus on the fact that Dacia was no longer a target of their scorn and fear.
He tried to focus on all those things, because if he thought on what he would find once he reached Edenthorpe, he was afraid he might crumble.
He had to believe it wasn’t as bad as Darian said.
It was the only thing that kept him going.
Drawing closer to Doncaster, the land around them was beginning to level out and they could see the village straight ahead. The big, white walls of the city reflected the late afternoon sun, and soon they would be closing the gates for the night.
The party made it in time, rushing through the northern gate, charging through the town that was rebuilding admirably since the mercenary raid.
But Cassius didn’t pay any attention. He didn’t even pass a glance at the goldsmith’s stall where he and Dacia had selected their wedding rings.
They were probably still there, waiting for them.
But they didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered without Dacia.
Emerging from the gate that faced Edenthorpe Castle, Cassius suddenly felt a surge of anxiety.
Gone were his attempts to keep his composure.
Dacia was within those walls, and he couldn’t get to her fast enough.
He spurred Old Man forward, charging through the gatehouse before the gates were even fully open, dismounting his horse so swiftly that he stumbled.
Soldiers were there, and stable servants, and they took his sweating, exhausted horse away as Cassius literally ran all the way to the keep.
Cassius was blind to anything else.
He was blind to his surroundings, to people or animals or buildings. The only building for him was directly in front of him and he took the steps into the keep two at a time. He hit the entry door running, only to be blocked by the duke, who was waiting for him.
Startled by the man’s abrupt appearance, Cassius came to a halt because he had to, tearing the helm from his dark, sweaty head.
“I am here,” he said breathlessly. “Where is she? How is she?”
The duke put up his hands to ease the panicked knight. “Cassius, calm yourself,” he said steadily. “Thank God you have come, but please… calm yourself. Let me tell you what you need to know before you go to her.”
“Is she still alive?”
“She is.”
Cassius stared at him a moment, the words confirming that Dacia had not passed away sinking into his weary, still slightly drunk mind.
And then, he burst into tears.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding in, terror and fear that he’d lost her for good.
A big, gloved hand slapped over his mouth to prevent the sobs from emerging, but he closed his eyes tightly and the tears spilled over.
The duke, seeing how distraught he was, put his hands on the man to ease him.
“Cassius,” he said with surprising gentleness.
“Be at ease, lad. She is still alive, though she has not yet awakened. I sent for the best physic in Sheffield and the man is with her now. His name is Whittington and he is the personal physic to the Earl of Sheffield. She has the best of care, I promise you.”
Cassius was trying desperately to compose himself. “I do not understand,” he said hoarsely. “Darian said she was accidentally given poison. How could that even happen?”
Doncaster sighed faintly, with great regret.
“Because her maid mixed up the phials,” he said.
“It was an accident. Whittington has determined that what she was given was not exactly a poison, but something used for swelling and dropsy. If the person is given too much of it, it will affect the heart and the breathing. That is what has happened to Dacia – she was given too much of it and the physic hopes that she will simply wake up without any effects, but it will take time.”
Cassius was wiping at his face, gaining control of his composure now that he’d suffered his outburst. “But what if she does not wake up at all?”
Doncaster averted his gaze and dropped his hands from Cassius. “If she has been given too much, she will never awaken,” he said sadly. “I pray that is not the case. Mayhap prayer is the only thing that can save her now. Did Darian tell you about Amata and her confession?”
Cassius nodded. “He did,” he said, his voice husky from fatigue. “She actually confessed everything?”
Doncaster nodded. “She did,” he said. “To the priests, to the entire village. Her father brought her here to apologize to Dacia.”
“Did Dacia forgive her?”
“Nay,” the duke said, shaking his head as if to suggest just how badly that apology went. “It was not a pretty sight, Cassius. Dacia lost her moon and her sun because of Amata. In other words, she lost you. There was never any chance she would forgive the woman.”
Cassius seemed to look uncertain. “She has spoken those words to me before,” he said. “Did… did she speak about me after I left?”
“Only when Amata came,” the duke said. “When I look at you now, I know that her distress equaled your own. She had the same look in her eyes that you do. She was a shell, Cassius. A shell of who she used to be. Just like you.”
Cassius knew that feeling well. The duke, a man who usually kept to himself and didn’t get involved in the problems of others, seemed to be a man of understanding when he took the time to think of others.
Oddly, it gave Cassius some comfort.
“May I go to her now, please?” he asked.
Doncaster nodded, just once, stepping aside so Cassius could move past him and up the mural stairs.
In the entry to the keep, Bose and Rhori and Darian stood, watching the conversation, now watching Cassius as he made his way up the stairs.
Argos wriggled out from behind them and trotted after his master.
No one stopped him.
Now, the lovers would once again be united.
The rest was in God’s hands.
*
The door to Dacia’s suite of chambers wasn’t locked. Cassius didn’t even knock. He simply pushed the door open.
The rich and lavish chamber opened up before him, the largest chamber in the suite.
Dacia’s bed was over near the far wall, positioned near windows in the spring and summer seasons, away from them in the fall and winter.
Cassius could see the maid he recognized as Edie standing at the foot of her bed and a small, gray-haired man bending over something on the mattress. His back was turned to Cassius.
There were other maids moving about, silently, carrying linens or bowls of water.
One was by the hearth, heating something over the flames in a heavy, iron pot.
Cassius could see the steam. He came into the chamber but stopped immediately and began to remove his things.
He’d no sooner pulled off his gloves than Argos darted past him, ran across the floor and hid under Dacia’s bed.
The swift movements of the animal startled both the physic and Edie.
“What on earth was that?” the physic asked, trying to get a look under the bed.
“That was Argos,” Cassius said. “He is… Dacia’s dog.”
The maids gasped when they heard his voice. All of them. Edie rushed in his direction, her pale face full of exhaustion and hope.