Vai tucked us under the bedcovers and let me cry in his arms. He said nothing, and when my tears at long last dried up, I knew there was nothing he needed to say. Any man or woman can speak words and not mean them, or mean them and not have the strength to carry them through. Instead he kissed the tears from my cheeks and sighed with weary satisfaction as he settled me comfortably against him. Strange it was how his silence brought a measure of peace to my heart. We had traveled such a long way, and even farther if one measured from the first day we had met.

“Vai?” Seeking another form of comfort, I dropped kisses along the curve of his neck.

More worn out than I had guessed, he had already fallen asleep.

25

Vai’s twitching and muttering woke me. He was slipping in and out of his village patois, obviously dreaming. He was very warm, possibly feverish, trying to throw off the blankets and quilt as if they were weights he had to free himself from.

In a rough, desperate voice he said, “Ah kill ’ee.” Then, more clearly, flat with rage, “I will kill you.”

“Vai. It’s me. It’s Catherine. I’m here with you. You’re safe. We’re safe.” I stroked his hair and face until he relaxed.

He sighed, barely awake. “My sweet Catherine. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Between one breath and the next he dropped back into sleep.

The air was pleasantly warm, heat rising from below. I slipped on the linen dressing robe and peeked out the closed curtains to see the sun almost at zenith. Gracious Melqart! We had slept a long time. Voices murmured in the passage. I opened the door. Men were in the parlor, tidying up. When they saw me they averted their gazes.

“Salvete,” I said, speaking slowly. “May we have food? Broth and porridge to start with, and a heavier meal later. Wash water, please. Also, if you can clean our clothes and gear…”

Our things were taken away and food delivered. I ate, but Vai did not wake. He tossed and turned, shivering and then sweating. I washed him down repeatedly with cool water. Once I was able to wake him for long enough to get some broth down his throat, but he fell back asleep as in a stupor. It frightened me that he had driven himself to collapse and I hadn’t noticed. To pass the day I mended his dash jacket, ate, washed my hair, and enjoyed the comfort of a furnished and heated domicile, although I kept a chair shoved under the door latch as a precaution.

Without his cold fire to light the evening, I crawled back into bed at dusk.