After the Fall(46)

Gigi shook her head, uneasy. I finally have him talking, she thought ironically, and now I don’t want to hear another word. Apprehensive about what was coming next, she held her breath for a moment and then asked, “Such as?”

“Drinking, at first. Nearly constant drinking,” he muttered. “I visited with my uncle and his family for a time, and he was very gracious and encouraging, but he was whole, and I was not. I didn’t want to see his contentment again, so I left without saying a word.

“Once I was on the streets, my money held out for a time, but after weeks of debauchery, I did what I had to, to keep the drink coming. I sold my armor — I remember that — but then my memories fade.”

Gigi had wondered about his missing armor, but there was an even greater question, and she feared the answer. “What happened to Agrippa?”

Magnus swung his legs out of the bed and sat up, his back to Gigi. He shook his head as if loathe to speak. “One morning, right toward the end, I woke up sick from too much drink and realized Agrippa was gone. I couldn’t remember if I’d sold him, or if he’d been stolen. I still don’t have any idea, but I had money in my pocket for the first time in weeks, so I must assume I sold my old friend. I keep imagining him strapped to a plow somewhere, whipped and abused, where once he’d been so proud and strong.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat, struggling to finish. “He saved my life more than once, and now, frequently, I wake up fearing I might have sold him to a … to a meat vendor.”

“Oh, no,” Gigi whispered in sorrow. She placed her arm around Magnus, hugging him, wanting to reassure. His skin felt cold, and he was trembling. “What can we do? Is there some way to find him?”

“No, he’s gone.”

It was what she expected to hear, but she went on anyway, “But what about your uncle? Couldn’t he — ”

“No, Gigi, no. Agrippa’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Gigi shuddered, as much from his bitter tone as from the chilly air. Reaching for the blankets, she said, “Get back under the covers, Magnus. Come back to bed.”

“No.” He stopped her hand. “There’s more, much more. For a time, I thought perhaps you’d gone back into the sparkling mist that brought you here, and I was desperate with the pain of losing you forever. So, I did things, things I’m not proud of.”

Magnus’s voice was so devoid of emotion, she realized she did not want him to go on, feared he was just getting to the crux of his heartache.

She looked into his eyes. “No more, please. It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. Please, Magnus, I don’t — ”

“You must know everything, Gigi. I won’t live under a falsehood. Afterward, the decision will be yours, whether to stay or go.”

“What? No! Stop it, Magnus,” Gigi said, sudden tears filling her eyes. “Don’t you dare! I made my choice when we married. How can I — you thought I was dead, and I get it, but I don’t want to hear it. Not another word.”

“Gigi, I will not lie — ”

“Stop!” She took his face in her hands. “I love you, and I’m no idiot, and I love you. That’s all either of us needs to know. If you say another word, I swear I’ll start screaming.”

They stared at each other for several seconds, then, still holding him, Gigi took a long, calming breath. “It isn’t lying and it’s obviously no longer your dark secret, but I don’t want specifics. I don’t want details. If you unburden yourself, if you insist on this, then I am the one who will carry the burden forever. I have a vivid imagination, Magnus, and it will be inside my head for the rest of my life. Did she do it like this? Did you get turned on when she — ”

“Gigi!”

“So, now you don’t want to hear it,” she persisted.

“No,” he admitted.

“Good,” she dropped her hands and forced a smile, “and please understand, given the circumstances there is nothing to forgive, but I do understand. I really do.”

Magnus shook his head, then kissed her brow. “I need some fresh air.” Getting up, he slung one of the furs over his shoulders for warmth and headed out of the tent.

Gigi watched him leave, and when the flap fell back into place, she started to shake, but not because of the cold. Silent tears fell, and she dropped onto the bed, his words and their significance running through her mind.