The Copper Sign (34 page)

“Yes, I think I know your brother!”

“My brother?” She looked up with astonishment.

“Yes, Alan was his name, a young smith from East Anglia. I met him in Tancarville. Henry said you are from England, too, just as I am.”

Ellen didn’t react at once. Feverishly, she tried to figure out what to say.

William continued. “He’s your brother, isn’t he? You look just like twins. Alan was a good friend when I was still a squire. Didn’t he ever tell you about me? My name is William!” He looked quizzically at Ellen.

He himself had offered her the best explanation, and she couldn’t bring herself to contradict him. “Ah, yes, indeed, that’s you, then,” she stammered and smiled at him shyly.

“And how is he? Is he here as well?”

“No,” Ellen answered. What else could she say? Should she invent a story? And what if William figured out just the same that she was lying?

“He is dead,” she replied, trying to look dismayed. Apparently she did it very convincingly, because William looked at her wide-eyed.

“I didn’t know that! What in the world happened?”

“His throat swelled up until he choked to death. It was something a lot of people caught last winter.” Ellen was surprised at herself. How did she come up with something like that?

“Dreadful thing,” William said, nodding thoughtfully. “So, do you also work as a smith?”

“It runs in the family.” Ellen could hear how her voice was trembling.
He’ll figure this out, and then I’m through
, she thought.

“Alan always wanted to forge a sword for the king.” William sounded sad.

“That’s just what I want to do!” Ellen glanced into William’s eyes, and her stomach tightened into a knot as it had that time in the forest when he had been standing behind her, guiding her with his arm, and she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

“If the Young King ever comes into some money, which will probably be after his father passes away, I’ll tell him about you. Provided, of course, that you’re as good as Alan!” William added with a smile.

Ellen lowered her eyes and blushed.

Suddenly William staggered and turned pale.

“What’s the matter?” She ran over to him anxiously and held him firmly by the arm.

“I’m dizzy, and my skull…” William said nothing more.

“That’s due to the blows on your head,” she said and led him outside. “You must stay out here in the fresh air, and you should rest. If you’ll tell me the way, I’ll bring you back to your tent.”

“Thank you!” William took a couple of deep breaths but continued standing there, as everything seemed to be spinning around.

Pierre would surely be back any minute, so Ellen asked one of the other smiths to keep an eye on her things until he returned, and left with William.

“Our tents are rather far from here on the opposite side of the meadow in a little valley,” William told her. After a few more steps he stopped and asked, “Can we just sit down for a moment?”

She was sure Pierre would be furious if she was away for such a long time, but she couldn’t leave William here alone like this. Her attraction to him was as strong as ever, and indeed seemed to be stronger than it was in Tancarville. Ellen was thrilled by the very touch of his powerful arm and the chance to walk along beside him. He smelled of horses and leather, just as he used to.

“Fine,” she said, and looked around. At the edge of the meadow, not far from them, was a tree that had been uprooted by a storm. “You can sit down and rest on that log.”

William sat down without letting go of her arm, so there was nothing she could do but sit down close beside him. They had gone about half the distance and could look down on the market square below. On the opposite side of the large meadow in front of them were the tents of the knights. It was only now that Ellen realized the two of them were alone. Her mouth and throat felt strangely dry, and she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and swallowed hard.

William looked at her for a long time. “I have never in my life seen such green eyes,” he started to say, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Did I say before that you and Alan look just like twins? That was nonsense, of course. I would have noticed if he had had eyes as green as yours.”

Ellen smiled.
How blind most people are…and men especially, it would seem
.

“Also, you have a lot more of those pert little freckles!” he teased.

William was indeed right about that. At the beginning of her pregnancy, she suddenly broke out in them. Ellen thought of Thibault and of the day she had almost bled to death in the forest, and suddenly her face darkened.

“You aren’t angry because of the freckles?” William asked with surprise.

Ellen shook her head. “I was just thinking of some bad things that have happened.”

William seemed to be thinking it was the memory of her brother’s death, because he patted her tenderly on the head. “Everything will be all right.”

Ellen jumped up and was about to tell him the truth, but before she could speak he stood up, pulled her to him, and kissed her.

His kiss was so different from Jocelyn’s tender, groping kiss. It was like William himself—demanding, exciting, captivating, irresistible, and dangerous through and through. Ellen could scarcely breathe. Her mind was in turmoil; the blood rushed to her head and carried her away. William held her tight as if he would never let her go and dug his fingers into her back. Her head was hammering, telling her,
I must stop this now and leave at once, before it is too late. He is a Norman knight, not a man for me.
She kissed William with all the passion that had built up over the years in her. Through her clothes she could feel the heat of his body and his longing for her. He pressed her tightly against him and began to caress her whole body, not tenderly like an admirer but demanding like a lover. She still could have turned around and run away, but her knees buckled and she gave herself completely to William, who seemed to have recovered completely. His hands moved from her shoulders to her breasts, feeling for them beneath the clothing. Ellen was panting with desire, a mixture of abandon and despair as William drew her off with him into the forest. He pressed her against an old beech tree, raised her dress, and groped beneath it. His hands moved upward gently yet with determination, from the back of her knee, stopping somewhere high up between her legs.

“You are so beautiful!” he said with a hoarse voice, kissing her with his soft lips first on the neck and then farther and farther down to her breast.

Ellen sighed with rapture.

Now he moved his hand in and out of her most intimate area until she thought she would die from desire. Somehow he managed to open his chausses. Ellen did not look but closed her eyes and gave herself completely to him. Torn first one way then the other by desire and fear, she trembled under his touch and offered no resistance. Forgotten was Thibault as a warm, blissful shudder passed through her whole body and consumed it. William withdrew from her, only to thrust forward again with renewed vigor. She groaned, and her whole body yearned for him. All of her being now strove only to preserve this moment so it would never end.

Suddenly William groaned as well. He had reached his climax and a hot flash passed through her while a dull pounding filled her body. After he had withdrawn from her, she felt more exhausted than after a long hard day of labor. William gently stroked her cheeks and smiled at her. Her throat felt tight as if she could not speak, but a hot tear ran across her face. William took her chin, raised it, and wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“I don’t know why I…” she stammered.

“Shh!” William put his finger to his lips and kissed her again.

After they had straightened out their clothing, they left the forest. Ellen felt like a child who had done something naughty, while William seemed hardly touched by what had happened. She felt guilty and avoided looking at him.

“Can you get back to your tent by yourself from here?” she asked him, her eyes still cast toward the ground.

“Certainly!” William stopped and pulled her toward him. “Tomorrow is Sunday, and you don’t have to work. We’ll meet here at noon. Is that all right?”

Ellen could only nod weakly.

“You are gorgeous, and very exciting,” he said with a self-assured grin.

Ellen didn’t know what to think of it. Jocelyn had talked about love. Ah, Jocelyn—he was now only a faint memory. William had replaced him in her heart.

As she walked back to the smithy, Ellen felt strong and confident. It was high time—she absolutely had to get back to work on the sword that had been on her mind for months. She knew exactly how it would look, what kind of pommel it should have, its length, its width, and how she would make the cross guard, the handle, and the hilt. Her sword even had a name already! At some point it had just come to her, lodged itself firmly in her head, and kept speaking to her, more and more urgently, saying, “Forge me!”

“Athanor,” Ellen whispered.

At noon the next day she entered the forest, her heart pounding. She strolled along the bumpy road, still soggy from the recent rain, enjoying the beautiful spring day. The sky was clear, and the sunlight spread like a sea of cornflowers over the land. Winter was finally past. At Eastertime, there had been a few nice sunny days. After that it had gotten cold again, but now it looked as if nothing could stop the advance of spring. Everything was blooming, the shepherd’s purse, dandelions, blood-root, and the stinging nettles. The first blossoms had appeared on the blueberries, and the side of the road was a sea of daisies, Ellen’s favorite flower. It was rumored that some women used them to stop unwanted pregnancies, but she didn’t want to think of that now and put aside the memory of Thibault.
That’s all in the past
, she thought,
I must forget it
. On a hill in the distance, apple trees were blooming, beautiful and bright. In a few months they would be full of exquisite fruit, and Ellen would already be somewhere else.

She arrived faster than expected at the place where she was going to meet William, sat down on a log, and waited. At her feet, delicate white mayflowers were blooming. She thought of Claire and the potion she had prepared with that herb. It had given the alcoholic brew a distinctive aroma Ellen almost thought she could taste when she sniffed the blossom.

Suddenly, William stood before her. “You are smiling!” he said, visibly delighted.

Ellen had not heard him coming and looked up at him in astonishment. She squinted because the sun at his back blinded her.

“You’re even more beautiful today,” he said, quickly taking a seat beside her and handing her a little bouquet of white flowers.

“Lily of the valley!” Ellen was touched.

For a moment they were both silent. William looked at her inquisitively, and Ellen became restless.

“Soon I shall start work on my sword,” she said, and looked aside in embarrassment.

William did not reply, but seized her by the chin, turned her face toward his, and kissed her passionately. Ellen forgot the smithy, the sword, and the past, and savored his kisses and caresses. He stood up and pulled her to him.

Only now did Ellen notice the woolen blanket he was carrying. And it flashed through her mind:
Watch out, he is prepared. He knows exactly what he wants, and it’s just one thing. He’s an experienced man, and if you believe he feels more for you than for anyone else, you’re mistaken
. But that was as far as she got in her thoughts.

He led her out onto the meadow, but Ellen shook her head, since the grass was still quite short.

“Not here, we could be seen!” She blushed.

Undeterred by her objections, William spread the blanket out and pulled her down to him.

The moment his lips touched her mouth and he pressed his body against hers, her resistance crumbled. She gave herself to him, forgetting time and space, until they were both exhausted.

She straightened out her dress, embarrassed, while William calmly pulled his clothes on again. Ellen tried feverishly to think of what they had spoken about back then in Tancarville, when they had been friends, but she couldn’t think of anything in particular. She couldn’t think of a single sensible thing to say. Alan was really dead.

William lay down in the grass again and looked up at the sky. “Tell me about the sword,” he said finally, turning over onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows, staring at her with his blue eyes.

“So you did hear what I said before!” Her eyes flashed.

“Of course I heard. But since you’re Alan’s sister, I was afraid that if I asked we would spend the whole afternoon doing nothing but discussing swords. I’ll admit that my appetite for you was too great.” He tickled her with a daisy he had picked and kissed her.

“Your appetite for me?” Ellen frowned. “That sounds so…”

“That sounds like honey cakes or sweet fruit,” he replied with a grin and kissed her dress where her nipples were.

“You’re impossible!” she scolded him gently.

“I know!” William stared at her with a feigned look of guilt. “But now tell me about your sword.”

Ellen couldn’t manage to be angry at him. “All right, then,” she sighed. “And when it’s finished, I’ll show it to you. It will be a very special sword because I will make it without help from any other craftsmen. I’ll make not just the blade, but the entire sword.”

William looked at her in astonishment. “And how will you do that?”

“I can do more than just what an ordinary blacksmith does,” Ellen said provocatively.

“Is that so? Funny I never noticed,” he said as he cast her back down onto the grass. His hands moved up and down her body, and the two abandoned themselves again to their love play. When Ellen finally sat up again, she was panting with exhaustion.

“I believe the only sword that really interests you is that one there.” She gave him a fresh grin and pointed between his legs.