Lost Love Found by Small Bertrice

Author:Small, Bertrice [Small, Bertrice]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780345374196
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1991-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

BorteKhatun did not weep for her eldest son. Her tears for lemur Khan had been shed long ago. The

sight of his head upon its pike was a relief. He could no longer threaten them with his evil.

Her main concern was for Valentina, and she was shocked at the cruelties inflicted on the beautiful

young woman during the few hours in which she had been in Temur Khan's power.

At the first sight of the Englishwoman's face, Borte Khatun saw that she was in shock. "Bring her into the

yurt,'' she directed Lord Burke. "My women and I will care for her."

Padraic carried Valentina inside, laying her gently on a pile of pillows. She turned her face away from

him.

Borte Khatun sent him away firmly but kindly, letting fall a heavy brocade curtain that shut off the

women's section of the yurt from the men's. Pulling the heavy cloak away, she gasped at Valentina's

body. The fair white body she had examined only that morning for her family's birthmark, that exquisite

blemish-free skin, was now crisscrossed with whip marks, painfully scorched by the sun, and covered

with bruises and teeth marks.

"My child, you must tell me," she said quietly. "Were you raped? Do not be falsely modest with me, for if

you were, I can prevent further complications from destroying your life. Do you understand?"

Valentina nodded. "No," she whispered. "They did not rape me. Temur Khan intended to this night, but

what they did to me was just as terrible. The memory will be with me for the rest of my life!" Then,

haltingly, she told Borte Khatun of her night-mare.

When she had finished, Borte Khatun, said, "Tatars can be cruel, my child. I know it. When my sister

and I were captured, so many years ago, we were forced to watch as our mother was raped by my

husband's men. We were to observe this, we were told, so that we would understand our own fate.

When they finished with Mama, she was barely alive, for they had savaged her cruelly, so they cut her

throat. Our father, driven to insanity by what he had been forced to observe, was beheaded in front of

us.

"That night, my sisters and I were raped by the men who were to become our husbands. We were

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raped publicly, together, be-fore the other men, so we would not think that any of us was being singled

out for favor or for abuse."

"H-how could you come to love a man who would do such things to you, madam?" Valentina sobbed.

"I was fifteen, child. My sisters were thirteen and twelve. When you are young, you want to live. Indeed,

you believe you will live forever! At first I hated my husband. My memories of what had happened to my

family, of what had happened to me, of my home in France, were strong. When I became enceinte I

denied the existence of my child until one day I felt life quicken within me. The child was innocent of its

father's sin, and so from that time I hated my husband a little less.

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