It looked like something was broken inside her eyes. Maukurz grimaced, shook his head a little. She was seeing him for the very first time, the truth of him. He didn't know what to say. It was the War sounded very much like bullshit at the moment. "You gonna go get her?" he asked softly. "Before she screams it from the rooftop?"

Halla caught herself and nodded. "You should leave."

"Fuck that. I'm not going like this. Go catch her, bribe her or whatever you need to do. Then come back."

"And if she tells the Men up in that camp?"

Maukurz grit his jaw. "Then I'll run. But be waiting for me to come back. I wanna talk to you."

She agreed, sadness bleeding from her eyes. Maukurz watched her go, then sank down in the great pile of hay they'd lain on, bending his elbows on his knees, thumping his head softly against his crossed arms.

Halla shot out of the door. Ailith was gone, and Halla ran for the kitchen, her bare feet covered in mud and her white nightgown clinging to her indecently. Taken as a whore by my husband's servants! she thought desperately. But Ailith was standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the door. She'd puked. Halla felt horrible for her.

There was nothing to do but walk up in plain sight. Shivering and drenched, Halla clutched her arms over her body. She stopped before Ailith, looking the older woman straight in the eye. "Are you going to tell?" Halla asked softly.

Ailith blinked at Halla in shock.

"Say something," Halla pleaded.

"Say something…? What the fuck are you doing, Lady Birchleigh?"

"It's not what you think. He doesn't mean anyone any harm."

Ailith's eyes were wide and furious. "Not what I think!" she hissed. "That's one of the demons who raped me, Halla! He destroyed my life! What is he doing here?"

Halla felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She hadn't wanted to believe it. "He came to see me," Halla admitted softly. "Not to hurt anyone."

Everything came together for Ailith in one shocked moment. "This is the affair you've been having! Have you lost your mind? Ask him where his friends are! Like dogs, they hunt in packs! You will meet them soon, if you keep this up. My lady I am most appalled. Why would you do it to yourself?"

Halla stared through the rain at Ailith, not wishing to be judged anymore. "Will you tell, Ailith? He will kill me. Lord Finnan, I mean. You know he will. And everyone will say he is right for it."

Ailith turned her head in disgust, sighing through her teeth. "I can't stay here. I can't work for you. You are a madwoman. And I won't be close to that thing, that monster you've brought into your very home."

"No, Ailith, please don't go! My lord will wonder why you leave!"

"Yes, he will. And the beast bit you up already. I imagine when your husband accuses you, he will strip you. Didn't think of that, did you? Or did you imagine these Men haven't seen those sorts of scars before? I know one thing: the monster knows what he did, putting that bite on you. He knows it's the very thing to send a Rider of Rohan into a fury. Do you know what it means, I wonder? He's claimed you. He wants Lord Birchleigh to see it. It's what they do to us… and you lay down for it, didn't you? Willingly!"

Halla grit her jaw, shaking from more than the cold. "Will you tell Finnan? Will you leave, and bring his suspicion? Please, Ailtih… I'll give you anything you want. I will build your tavern, out of wood, and start you off too. And he… he will never come here again. But please…Ailith…" Halla shook her head, desperate.

"Do you have any idea what he is, child?" Ailith breathed. "What's he done to you, to make you throw away your life like this?"

Halla turned her face away, tears in her eyes. "Just tell me, will you expose me!"

Ailith let her cringe for a long, deliberate moment. Ailith did not want to go along with this disgusting insanity. She also felt a deep welling of pity for Halla, who was obviously a sick little girl. If Lord Birchleigh would do any less than kill Halla, it would be her duty to her lady to tell someone. But the stark truth was, Finnan would put Halla to death. It was against everything in her conscience, but Ailith said, "No. I won't expose you. But I do pity you, my lady. I doubt I will be able to hide it well. And if he comes here again, I am gone, and I will tell. You have my word on all of it."

"Thank you," Halla breathed, unable to meet Ailith's piercing stare.

Ailith turned immediately and went into the kitchen, shutting the door hard in Halla's face.

Halla felt stripped and utterly alone. She had never longed for her mother more in her life, the mother she hardly remembered. There was nothing to do but turn around and walk back to Maukurz. She stepped over one of the pale white blossoms, carelessly tossed on the muddy lawn.

Halla pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. Maukurz—dressed again, if she could call it that—slipped out of the shadows, leaning against a wooden beam.

Tears came to her eyes fast, and Maukurz came to her at once, hugging her close, comforting her. She was so cold. For a moment it felt so good to Halla to be held in his warm arms. And then betrayal and anger came back violently and she twisted around, trying to get away. "Halla!" Maukurz murmured, "Halla, stop…"

"No!" she hissed, shoving her palms into his chest. He tried to hold her, but she wrenched a hand free and slapped Maukurz in the face. He ate it easily, but the shock of being hit by her stunned him for a moment. Still, he'd eat a thousand more blows, if that was what she needed to be happy with him again. The only thing he wouldn't do is let her go. He looked down on her, awaiting her judgment.

"You raped her!" Halla accused bitterly. "You let your friends rape her!"

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "In a raid."

Halla sagged in his arms. She'd expected him to deny it, she'd wished he would deny it.

She wished she could deny that she knew what his kind did, but she'd known that from the beginning, when she stitched his belly and wrapped his leg, and brought him back to life. And she'd known it when she'd let him put his hands and his mouth all over her... when she delighted in his touch.

But still, to have it brought home so brutally! It was one thing to think Maukurz had done bad things to faceless strangers, but Ailith! Ailith's words taunted her mercilessly. Crying, Halla asked, "Did you mark her up too?"

"Halla it was a long time ago—"

"Did you put marks on her?"

"I did but—"

She twisted away again, sobbing, "Because that's what you do too, right? So that our Men will see it and know you've had one of their women? It's a game, right? And I'm your revenge?"

"NO!" Maukurz barked, frustrated, scenting every little emotion she felt. It wrung his guts painfully, feeling what she must have been thinking of him. Halla was frozen in his arms, fear spiking all around her. Maukurz closed his eyes, gritting his jaw, repeating with a forced calm, "No. You're not no fucking game to me, Halla! You're the best thing I've ever had! Maybe the only true good thing I've had!"

She cried softly, hating how good his arms felt around her. Hating herself for yielding so easily to his comfort. Shame rocked her nearly off her feet.

"No, don't do that," he groaned. "Don't feel that way. Not you…"

"How could you?" she whispered, struggling to control herself. "How could you hurt her so badly? You probably never think about it, do you? But d'you know her life is ruined? Everyone knows, she can't marry, she won't ever have babies—"

At the thought of babies, Halla broke off, feeling even sicker. Had Ailith drowned Maukurz's child? Or was it one of the others that he'd let rape her? It was all too horrible to consider. Halla grit her jaw and asked, "How many, Maukurz?"

"Halla…"

"No! I want to know! No more secrets, no more surprises! Your friends weren't lying a bit about you, were they?"

He shook his head tightly, closing his eyes, feeling her slip away from him even as he held her in his arms.

"How many?"

"I dunno," he murmured. "Hundreds," he said, hearing her groan in agony. He figured he might as well put it all out. "In the raids… In the pits… I couldn't count them all if I tried. Half the fucking army was my seed, probably."

"The pits," Halla echoed. "You mean, when women were stolen…"

"Master had 'em in cages. They'd tell me who and when, and I'd do it. Ten a month, maybe. For three years."

"So it wasn't your fault-!" Halla began desperately, looking up at him with shining tears. "The wizard made you, you would have been killed or worse…"

Maukurz shook his head. How he would have loved to let it lie at that! But he couldn't look into her eyes, so trusting, and spit lies at her. He brushed his fingers over her cheek and whispered, "No, Halla. It ain't that easy, it ain't that clean. The raids… that was all me. And the pits… Well, I liked it. So it don't matter if I was told or not, or what they would have done to me if I'd refused." His gut turned, watching her innocent face as he told her, each word like a knife twisting in her belly. "But Halla… can't that be over now? The War's done, and I'm not running around… doing that shit anymore. I just want you. You said it right, Halla, I love you. I know what it means now. I know what it feels like, and I couldn't ever want anything else. Can't we just forget what I did?"

"I don't know," she cried. "Can any of those women forget? Can my serving woman forget? The look on her face when she saw you… It was like she was seeing a monster. That's what she called you, a monster."

"That what you see?"

Halla stared at Maukurz, shaking her head slowly. "No… oh my—no…. But I don't know anything, do I?"

"You know what you feel, right? Halla?" he asked her desperately.

"I don't know what I feel anymore! And now… Well, she's sworn not to tell, but if she did… I would be condemned with you!"

"Then come away with me! Right now, let's go! I stashed my bow in the woods—what's left of it—and I'll hunt for you tonight. There are caves all over the place. I'll do anything for you, Halla! I'll die for you… and I'll live for you too, each day. Fuck these people! They lie on what they feel, they feel one thing and say another, and if they could hurt you just for saving me, and having a little pleasure… Fuck them, Halla! Come with me, and you won't ever have to hide again." Maukurz gripped her hands tightly, drawing them to his lips. "I am sorry for what I did. I will never do it again. Damn, Halla, let's get out of here!"

Halla shook her head sadly. "I can't… I'm sorry… It's just… It's too much… Oh, Maukurz, this hurts so bad! I'm so confused…"

"Shh…" he breathed, holding her again, clutching her head to his chest, his fingers in her dripping wet hair. She was so cold… Far too cold to make it in the woods tonight, he thought miserably. "Shh, Halla," he murmured. "Don't hurt. Don't think. I'm so sorry, ashgaz. You go home now, sleep by the fire."

"You lied to me," she whispered, clinging to him now.

"I just didn't tell you. I didn't want… this."

"You can't do that anymore. I want to know everything. If I… If I do walk beside you, it can't be blind and dumb to everything. That isn't fair. You have to let me judge for myself if I can love you in spite of all… all you did in the War."

He laughed harshly, without any joy. "But what if you can't? I was made to hurt you all. I'm choosing not to now. Why would you wanna think about what I did then? Why not see me as I am now?"

"Maybe I will," Halla said. "But I must have that choice. Do you understand?"

Maukurz, wide eyed, shook his head. "No! Scares the shit out of me, too. But if that's what you truly want… Well, next time I come you can ask me whatever you want. And I'll tell you."

Halla smiled softly, sadly, catching how he snuck in the promise of his return while agreeing to her terms. "You can't come back. That was the condition of her silence."

Maukurz groaned. "So… you ever gonna come looking for me? Or have I lost you?"

"I'll come," Halla whispered. "When I'm ready. I don't even think you understand how awful what you did is, do you?"

Maukurz shrugged limply. "How I'm supposed to understand that, Halla?"

She shook her head, horrified. The distance between them—in culture, lifestyle, upbringing and morals—was a thousand miles wide. Maybe too wide, after all, to ever be spanned. And even with all that, she knew she didn't want to let him go. Halla took his hand and lay it against her cheek, closing her eyes to the sweet, penetrating warmth. Then she pulled away. "I have to go."

"Wait," he murmured, releasing her. He walked to the hay bales, where he'd hastily hidden her robe after the woman's interruption. He retrieved the soft garment, full of her sweet scent. Standing before Halla, he wrapped her tightly in the damp robe, wishing more than anything to take her in his arms beside his own fire. "There," he said quietly. "That's a little better, right?"

Tears poured down her cheeks as she nodded. Then Halla forced herself to turn and walk away from him. Maukurz stood behind her, shaken, grasping for the empty air.

Halla woke in the morning confused, her head pounding from sobbing herself to sleep. Ailith was standing over her, shaking her firmly. "You must wake up."

"I'm up!" Halla cried groggily, snatching the covers around her.

"Your husband is downstairs. He wants you dressed in something rich but plain and modest, with gloves and breeches beneath for riding."

Halla cringed, feeling brutally sore all throughout the lower parts of her torso. She looked up at Ailith, wondering if this was some specially devised punishment.

Ailith met her gaze coolly. "I believe there were many fields damaged by last night's storm, and he'll be wanting to see. And the villagers will be wanting to see you both. They will be afraid."

"I'm up," Halla repeated, sitting up while desperately trying to conceal how achy she was. Her heart beat irradically, remembering what Maukurz had done to her in the hayshed. And then remembering how she'd left him. "I want a hot bath," Halla said, "with chamomile in the water."

"There's no time, my lady," Ailith said. "He wants to go as soon as possible."

Halla flushed, mortified. She'd collapsed into bed as soon as coming in late last night. She hadn't even washed. "Bring some water, then," Halla insisted, "and a washcloth. I will not see his lordship like this. I will pick out my own outfit while you're gone."

Ailith bowed her head coolly, and walked away. Halla hugged her arms to her chest, groaning at the coming torture to her body.

She forced herself out of bed, and walked to her new oak wardrobe. It was true that Finnan spoiled her lavishly, wanting her to look the part of a noble lady. Halla picked out breeches, and then a cornflower blue gown that matched her eyes, with delicate white embroidery around the hem and the long drop sleeves: a white web of flowers. Flowers like the ones littering the lawn, Halla thought, flushing. She picked a short green-grey surcoat of Gondorian silk, one with a high neck and many small pearl buttons. Nothing could make her look more tightly bound up. Just the way Finnan wants me.

Ailith returned with the water, and Halla insisted on washing and putting her shift, petticoat, and gown on in privacy. Once she'd stripped out of the robe she'd wrapped around her naked body the night before, Halla saw red marks from Maukurz's claws on her hips and thighs. Frantically, she checked her neck in the mirror; fortunately, his gentle bites had left no mark in the daylight. Halla caught her breath sadly, seeing him lying breathless beside her on the hay, wildly handsome, grinning boastfully yet tenderly, asking if she was still alive. Come here, ashgaz…

Halla washed herself quickly then, not daring to look at her body anymore. She pushed aside the hot memories that threatened to intrude, the feeling of his weight on her as he…

"My lady, are you ready for me?" Ailith called.

"Yeh—yes!" Halla called, lacing the last stay up the sides of her blue gown. Maukurz wrapped me up against the cold. His very heart was as broken as mine. Whatever he's done, he loves me. Why can't that be enough?

Ailith came in, and the sight of her face was a guilty torment. The older woman finished dressing Halla in silence. She coiled the front of Halla's hair back and set it with an ivory comb, then pinned a cornflower blue veil over Halla's long pale hair with pearl encrusted lady's tiara. Halla tugged pale doeskin gloves on, and laced up her riding boots. "Thank you," Halla said quietly, torn between misery and shame.

Ailith nodded curtly.

Finnan actually smiled to see her coming down the staircase. Shamelessly, Edwyn was in his breeches and loose linen shirt in the hall, his long curls falling perfectly over his shoulders. Halla was certain she understood the nature of that relationship now. Edwyn grinned up and her whistled softly, and Halla thanked him profusely in her heart for that gesture.

"Very lovely," Finnan said with cold approval. He was dressed much more crisply, in his knight's uniform without the scale armor. His green cloak was pinned with a golden broach, stamped with the seal of the king. Halla was only glad he couldn't see the awkwardness of her gate. Maukurz's delight had taken more of a toll on Halla than she'd realized.

Sitting in a saddle was misery, but Halla was determined to ride tall. Her colt followed Finnan's roan charger out the manor gate and down the land towards Birchleigh, the river rolling along beside them, high from the storm, but an ugly muddy color from the logging. And then the devastation began.

The hail had pounded entire chunks of fields into the ground. "Help us," Halla murmured on seeing the devastation. She nudged Silverfire, and trotted up beside Finnan, jarring her body with each step of the horse's gate. "You will lower the fee at the mill, won't you? And give the people grain for their bread?"

"Be quiet," Finnan said crisply. "You are here to be seen, Halla, and nothing more. D'you understand?"

Stung, Halla frowned and prepared a retort, but her husband cantered out ahead of her, leaving her behind with the armed guard he'd hired for the day.

They rode up on the village of Birchleigh, two main avenues of large cottages, with many other homes dotted around the town haphazardly. The jewel of the town, the twin mills, sat on two shallow cataracts of the river. A handsome stone bridge crossed the river into a strand of birch trees that the villagers tapped for their famous birch beer. Beyond that was the Gap of Rohan, nothing but open grasses until the city of Edoras and the rising White Mountains, brilliant hazy peaks on the horizon.

It would have been a peaceful setting, but for all the villagers gathered in the town square. Halla was afraid of their numbers, and agonized by their thin, fearful faces. Finnan and his soldiers rode right into the middle of the crowd, his war-horse cutting a fearful pattern before the peasantry. Steel flashed on the belts of Lord Birchleigh and his Men-at-arms. But a rumble went through the crowd when they saw the open, compassionate face of Lady Birchleigh.

"My good people!" Finnan called, leaning forward in his saddle. "The storm has cut our hopes down a ways, but I am here to assure you, this village will be cared for in days to come!"

A hopeful cheer began among the villagers. Halla saw sooty-faced old Men with little children clutched by the hand, and hard eyed matrons with their shining gold hair back in modest white kerchiefs. Halla was frightened to see want in every eye. It made her turn to Finnan, an open question in her bright blue gaze that wasn't missed by anyone.

But Finnan didn't see her. He was telling the villagers that great prosperity was coming. New-made merchants would leave the work of the field behind and rent shops in the heart of the town. Shops made of wood, built to last generations. Shops, and houses too, that would be lived in by the families of Birchleigh for many long years. It was a hopeful image for a people putting their lives back together. Yet Halla watched Finnan crossly, disgusted that he was hawking his—her—wood when he ought to be telling his people how he would help them! To her dismay, they were eating it up.

And then the bulk of the soldiers that rode with Finnan, six of eight in total, pulled out purses and cast cheap coins into the crowd. Finnan and the two front soldiers, and Halla, cantered off toward the mills. Halla was astounded, staring down the road at the numbers of carts offloading fresh lumber at the saw mill. Finnan was reducing Halla's forest lands at a rapid rate. But they reined their horses in stopped at the grain mill.

The miller was a thick bodied Man with a neatly trimmed red beard and a round belly, a stark contrast to the thin villagers. Finnan trotted right up to him, and leaned low in his saddle. Halla heard him say, "Give them one week at half-price. All in all, were still looking at more than we brought in last year."

Finnan didn't even wait for a response. He circled round the miller and rode past Halla, meeting her challenging glare with a wall of coldness. The two guards wheeled about, and by the time Finnan trotted to his other six, the peasants had grabbed for the coins and long since been pushed back. They all wheeled about to follow Lord Birchleigh. Halla had no choice but to turn as well, and canter off behind them.

That night, Halla sat at her vanity, listening to an owl hooting in the night. She took the necklace of gold and amber and lay it over her wrist, and then she sighed, caught between desire and guilt. I knew what he was when I saved him, she thought. And I know that he could have taken me that night I slept in the woods, but he didn't. He was bold… She smiled slowly, tears in her eyes, remembering Maukurz snatching up her gown and running his big, strong hand up her thigh. She remembered the confident, daring look in his eyes as he'd done it. But he didn't take anything. Nor did he let his… his friends. I can't reconcile the Maukurz I know with the monster Ailith speaks of. The monster he admits he was, without even understanding how evil he was.

Ailith came in. "Do you want your bath, my lady? Blythe is here, and we can bring up your tub."

"Please," Halla said, refusing to look at her. At the same time, she didn't want to wash her last night with Maukurz off of her fully. She fancied she could smell him, faintly, on her skin. For the first time she wondered what a son of his and hers would look like. She smiled. He would be a little falcon, a little hawk, as strong as his father. But innocent, too. Halla immediately scolded herself. What am I thinking? Does it matter nothing what an enemy he is to my kind?

The women brought in her tub, and filled it with great pots of boiled water, carried over from the kitchen. Ailith set a kettle over Halla's own fireplace: the harvest was coming in, and this night, after the storm, was full of crisp air and starlight. "You may go," Halla murmured, unlacing her gown.

"You needn't get out to warm your own bathwater," Ailith said quietly once Blythe went down the stairs. "I know your secrets."

Halla dropped her eyes, mortified. She slowly shed her gown and shift, letting them fall in a pool around her feet. With her hair still pinned up, Maukurz's mark was prominent, a raw red scar on her shoulder, standing out even more now that the deep accompanying bruise had faded. Halla climbed quickly into the tub, sinking down in the warm water. Ailith dragged a stool to the head of the tub, sitting behind Halla. She tugged the ivory comb out of Halla's hair, letting the pale, slick locks tumble over her shoulders. Halla smoothed her hair down over her left shoulder, covering Maukurz's mark. She looked up at Ailith abashedly. It was a horrific torture to think of Maukurz assaulting her. It was horrific that Halla could see, easily, how terrifying it would have been. How terrifying he would be, if he set himself to it.

Ailith met the young woman's mournful gaze for a moment, then looked away. She too, was unable to imagine what she'd learned. The very thought of it was revolting.

"Did you hear what he decided in the village?" Halla asked softly.

Ailith nodded briskly, leaning her hands on her lap as Halla stroked a washcloth along her arm. "His lordship," Ailith said, "offered a one week amnesty on half the grain-tax. My brother told me, from his friends in the village."

"And what do you think?" Halla asked.

"I think…" Ailith said slowly, "I think it is a quite… conservative measure. Accounting for—so Blythe says—the fact that this year's harvest, even with the blight of the storm, is greater than what was burnt out last year."

"I think it is hideous!" Halla exclaimed. "The people are already hungry. They were counting on this year being bountiful!" Halla turned in the tub, looking up at Ailith. "You should have seen it. Their faces, I mean. So gaunt, yet so hopeful. And he led them on with dreams, and gave them so little relief. How can they cheer that?"

"Perhaps they expected nothing," Ailith said.

"Perhaps he told the miller in secret," Halla said. "The coward. He didn't dare tell them what their relief would be." She sunk deeper into the water, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "I can make no sense of the world, or anyone in it, let alone myself."

Ailith had no comfort for the young woman she no longer wished to serve. She went to the fire to retrieve the kettle, and poured more boiling water into the tub. "Do you need me for anything else?" Ailith asked quietly.

"No," Halla murmured. It was odd, but she could feel Ailith's discomfort as if it was her own. Perhaps this is what it's like for Maukurz… sensing emotions, fears… Yet then, how could he not know how awfully he treated her? "You may go, Ailith. But…" Halla opened her eyes, seeing the older woman standing by the door, drying her hands on her apron. "Thank you… Thank you so much…"

Ailith bowed her head tightly, and closed the door behind her.