Saxon Lady. Margo Maguire

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СКАЧАТЬ The hapless Norman came after her, but became distracted when one of the injured men started to retch. She took advantage of the diversion and beat the herald to the door.

      Thick smoke filled the yard and choked Aelia the moment she went outside. Undeterred, she headed toward the source of the smoke, the storehouse where Osric and the men of the fyrd were being held. There was already a line of men, women and children passing water-filled buckets toward the stable, which stood beside the grain storehouse, and carrying the emptied ones back to the well. Normans as well as Saxons worked to prevent the fire from spreading, but it seemed to be gaining in strength rather than waning. The heat from the flames was stifling.

      ’Twas a terrifying sight.

      The fire had taken hold of the stable roof, and men were leading horses out to safety. They’d already given up on the storehouse beside it, the place where Osric had been held.

      Aelia ran to the front of the water line, where a number of Saxon men lay covered with dirt and ash, coughing and trying to catch their breath. A Norman warrior caught an empty bucket from the roof and handed it back down the line.

      “Did everyone get out of the storehouse?”

      “Who’s to know?” he replied. “At least some of them got out, but we don’t know if there are any more in there.”

      “What about a young boy—a small, red-haired boy?”

      The Norman took the next bucket and handed it up to a man on the stable roof. Aelia grabbed his arm. “The boy! Did you see a small boy come out of the storehouse?”

      “No. Move aside or help, lady. There is no room here for bystanders.”

      Aelia’s heart lodged in her throat. If Osric was still inside the storehouse, he would burn to death.

      She heard Fitz Autier shouting orders, and looked up toward the sound of his voice. He had shed his tunic and stood on the stable roof, pouring water from the buckets that were handed up to him.

      Aelia ducked away before he could take notice of her, and picked up a discarded rag from the ground. Covering her head and mouth with it, she whispered a silent prayer and ran into the burning storehouse.

      She didn’t think she’d ever felt anything hotter than the flames outside. But within the storehouse, ’twas worse. Her throat burned and her eyes watered as she searched the smoke-filled spaces for anyone who might still be inside, but she could see no one. Nor were there any bodies.

      “Osric!”

      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 СКАЧАТЬ