“Charlaine?” offered Ludwig.
“Yes, she’s one of the undesirables.”
“How so? I thought her father was a respected swordsmith?”
“Her father has his uses, I’ll grant you that, but her mother… well, that’s an entirely different story.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Ludwig. That girl is a seductress, intent on taking your family name, OUR family name.”
Ludwig laughed. “You can’t be serious, Father? Charlaine is anything but seductive. I don’t think she’d know how to flirt to save her life.”
“Don’t be fooled by her dark hair and almond eyes, son. The Calabrians are notorious for wheedling their way into people's lives.”
Ludwig looked at his father's face, expecting him to break out laughing at any moment, but what he saw there stunned him, for the look of hatred was intense.
“What did Calabrians ever do to you?”
“Never you mind,” said Frederick. “The question is, rather, what are you going to do about her?”
“Nothing. She hasn't done anything to give me reason to.”
“Don’t be a fool, boy, she’s using you!”
“I don’t believe you,” said Ludwig. “She’s done nothing outside of her duties as a smith.”
“Hasn’t she? Think carefully on this, Ludwig. Your entire future might depend on it.”
Ludwig looked his father in the eyes and then nodded. “I understand now,” he said.
“Good. Then we shall have no more of that wanton woman in this home.”
“You misunderstand me,” said Ludwig. “What I now realize is that you dislike people that don’t look like you, though I must admit it surprises me. You pour your hatred onto her simply because of her appearance? She’s still a person, Father, a fact you seem determined to ignore.”
“You don’t understand,” grumbled the baron. “It’s a dangerous world out there.”
“That doesn’t justify your actions,” replied Ludwig. “I don’t agree with your assessment of Charlaine’s character, but I will abide by your wishes. Her presence will never again grace this keep.”
“Good. That's all I ask. If you wish to bed her, that's your business, but remember, she is not one of our people.”
“Our people?”
“For Saint's sake, Ludwig, she’s a commoner, born and bred. Our kind doesn’t socialize with them!”
“I believe you bedded enough commoners in your time.”
“That was different, and you know it. I’m not talking about rutting with some doxy. She’s after your wealth. Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t. Her family is well-off for someone of their station.”
“Agreed,” said the baron. “Well-off for someone ‘of her station’, but that’s not enough.”
“I disagree with you, Father, and you won’t change my mind.”
“I’m on your side, Ludwig, I truly am, but sometimes you can be so pig-headed. I only want what’s best for you.”
“So you say, but I’m beginning to feel it’s really about what’s best for YOU.”
“That’s unfair,” said Frederick. “I’m your father. I have to look after you.”
“I’m old enough to look after myself.”
“Are you, indeed?"
7
The Taphouse
Summer 1094 SR
* * *
Charlaine stared down at the iron bar before her. She had intended to forge it into another knife, but somehow, her anger had gotten the better of her. Now it was little more than a mess of pounded metal. Glancing around, she spotted another half-finished knife sitting on a nearby table and thought of Ludwig, then chided herself for bringing him to mind. He's a noble, she should have known better than to revisit the keep at Verfeld.
She tossed the iron bar aside and looked around the room, seeking something to occupy her mind. When someone approached the workshop, she looked up, half expecting to see the baron’s son, but it was merely a passerby, peering into the smith’s shop out of sheer curiosity.
Charlaine removed the leather apron, hanging it carefully from its designated hook, then began tidying up, putting all the tools in their proper place. It made for only a temporary diversion, and her thoughts quickly returned to Ludwig. Had he lured her to the keep to put her in her place? She thought it unlikely, but something nagged at her, for nobility didn’t think like common folk.
“I’m sorry.” Ludwig’s voice came out of nowhere.
The interruption startled her, and she turned abruptly, bumping into the anvil. “For Saint’s sake, you scared me half to death.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the young lord. “I merely wanted to apologize for that fiasco yesterday. My father can be a bit…stubborn at times.”
“I was quite mad at you. You left me alone in the great hall, and then your father showed up.”
“I can assure you, it wasn’t intentional. The truth is, I had no idea he was even home.”
“Oh, he was home, all right,” Charlaine said. “And I got an ear full. I know my place now, he was quite clear about that!”
“My father means well, but he has rather old-fashioned ideas on the nobility.”
“Does he now? How surprising.”
“Now you’re ribbing me,” said Ludwig.
“Only a little." She glanced around the room, unable to meet his gaze. “So you came all the way into town just to apologize?”
“Yes, and to see if I can make amends.”
“And how would you propose to do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps buy you a drink or maybe something to eat?”
She looked up at him, their eyes finally making contact. The look of hope in his eyes made her smile, and she felt a sudden kinship with him. “Did you argue with your father?” she asked.
“More often than I care to admit."
“I have the same problem with my mother. Ever since I've grown up, I can’t seem to get along with her. My father says it’s because I’m so much like her.”
Ludwig chortled. “I’m nothing like my father, at least I hope I’m not.”
“Oh, I don’t know, you’re both headstrong, in your own way.”
He smiled. “You think so?”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, maybe just a little.”
“So what do you say? Will you accept my peace offering?”
“Saint Agnes tells us we should forgive those we can."
“Can I take that as a yes?”
“Very well,” Charlaine acquiesced, “but I need to finish off a few things here first.”
“I can work with that. How about if we meet at noon? That should give you enough time.”
“Noon sounds good, but where shall we go?”
“I hadn’t thought of that," Ludwig admitted, “but I’m open to suggestions.”
“How about the taphouse around the corner?”
“Auerbachs? I suppose that would work, though I hear their food leaves something to be desired.”
“Then you don’t know Auerbachs,” Charlaine said. “They serve a surprisingly tasty soup.”
“I guess I’d be willing to give it a try. I'll see you there, then?”
“I look forward to it."
Ludwig turned to leave, then paused, looking back over his shoulder a moment, but words seemed to fail him.
“Noon,” she reminded him. “Don’t forget.”
He smiled. “That, I could never do.”
* * *
Ludwig sat, nursing his ale. Auerbachs was a busy place, far busier than he would have expected, but then again, it was midday. A figure cast a shadow over him, and he looked up to see a blonde woman, a smile creasing her lips.
“Ludwig,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in here for a while. Come to whet your appetite, have you?” She leaned forward, revealing her ample cleavage.
“No, Hi
lde, I’m meeting someone.”
She stood back up, a frown on her face. “What’s the matter, am I no longer pleasing to you?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that,” he said, “but I’m meeting someone, on business.”
“Oh,” Hilde replied. “You should have said so sooner. Perhaps when you’re finished, you might join me for a private session?”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to take you up on that,” he said, tossing a silver coin onto the table, “but how about you buy yourself a drink?”
She picked up the shilling, tucking it into her bosom. “Now you’re talking.”
Ludwig watched her saunter off, hoping she wouldn’t make a nuisance of herself. The last thing he needed was for her to wander back over while Charlaine was here. Suddenly, he was startled by the thought that he wanted no interruptions while they were together. There had been more than enough women in his life up to this point, but something about the smith struck him as… different. He struggled to figure out what it was. He took a drink, not tasting the ale, his mind a whirlwind of activity.
“You’re here,” said a voice.
Looking up, he immediately recognized the brown eyes staring down at him. “I said I would be, didn’t I?”
She smiled, taking a seat.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up,” Ludwig added.
“It’s not like me to pass up a free meal. A smith uses up a lot of energy at the forge. I could eat a horse.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, raising his hand to get the barmaid's attention.
“What are you drinking?” she asked.
“The local ale. Foul stuff. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Then why drink it?”
“It has the advantage of being strong,” he explained, “and thus ideal for fortifying one's courage.”
“Your courage is in need of fortifying?”
“I wouldn’t have said so this morning, but now…”
“Do I make you nervous?” Charlaine asked.
“Nervous? No, but maybe a little intimidated.”
“Why would I intimidate you? You’re a baron’s son.”
“You’re different from my normal… that is to say…” his voice failed him.
“You mean I’m not your typical woman?”
Ludwig blushed. “Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean.”
“Look, you can put all those thoughts from your mind. We’re here to enjoy a meal, nothing more. If you want to go and get… private with a girl, that’s your business.”
“That’s just it,” he blurted out. “I don’t want to. Get private, I mean, at least not with some girl.”
“Hold onto your sword, Ludwig, I’m not some wench to be bedded and forgotten.”
“I could never forget you,” he said, “and I don’t want to bed you.”
“You don’t? Why, is there something wrong with me?”
“No,” said Ludwig. “What I meant is that I don’t want to bed you YET, or ever if you don’t want to.”
“Well, it’s nice to know you’re giving me a choice.”
“This is not going the way I’d planned. I’m afraid I’ve put my foot in my mouth.”
“Why don't we start again?” Charlaine suggested.
A shadow fell over them, and Ludwig looked up in irritation, half expecting Hilde, but it was merely the barmaid. He coughed to hide his discomfort before speaking. “Can we get something to eat,” he asked, “and some more ale?” He looked to Charlaine, who nodded.
“Coming right up,” the server replied.
“What food have you?” he asked.
“There's a nice plover soup,” she offered, “or I can bring out a cheese platter. That’s very popular these days.”
“I’ll take the soup,” said Charlaine, “with some extra bread if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Sounds good,” said Ludwig. “I’ll have the same.”
The barmaid left, leaving them alone once more, or at least as alone as they could be in a tavern full of people.
“I find the bread helps fill me,” said Charlaine.
“Fill you?”
“Yes, you know, to stave off hunger?”
“I’ve never been hungry,” said Ludwig.
“Never?”
“Not in any real sense, no,” he revealed. “One of the perks of being a noble, I suppose.”
“When we first came to Hadenfeld,” said Charlaine, “Father struggled to establish himself. Some days, all we had to eat was bread.”
“That’s monstrous,” said Ludwig. “How did you ever survive?”
“It was difficult, but the community came together.”
“What community was that?”
“There’s a small group of Calabrians here,” she explained, “about two dozen. They all fled home around the same time, or so I’ve been told.”
“How old were you when you to came to Hadenfeld?”
“I was born here, but my mother was pregnant with me when they first arrived, so I suppose I was conceived before they fled. Mother likes to say I’m the last Calabrian.”
“Surely there are others?” insisted Ludwig. “They can’t all have been wiped out?”
“No, of course not, but the kingdom was taken over by Halvaria. It’s nothing but a vassal state now.”
“I had no idea. Tell me, what brought your parents here to Hadenfeld?”
“They’ve never actually said," Charline confessed, “but I suspect they wanted to put it all behind them and build a new life free of war.”
“They could have picked better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing specific, but the Petty Kingdoms are constantly at odds with each other. This is likely a far more dangerous place in the long run.”
“And yet,” she said, “Hadenfeld has been at peace for as long as I can remember.”
“That’s true, but in the grand scheme of things, twenty-some-odd years is nothing compared to the relentless grind of history. I’m sure it won’t be much longer before war engulfs the land once again.”
“You sound like you would welcome it,” said Charlaine.
“Welcome? No, but if it does come, I’ll be ready for it.”
“And what of the people here? Are they to suffer for your adventurous spirit?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ludwig demanded.
“People like you revel in battle, but you don’t see the human cost. Ordinary people, people like my parents, suffer tremendously in times of war.”
His smile died, killed by the reality of what she was saying. “I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “sometimes you have to fight in order to prevent a greater loss, but it should be done out of necessity, not some sense of glory. There is no honour in needless bloodshed.”
“Did your father teach you that?”
“He did. He didn’t like to talk of it very often, but every once in awhile, he would miss his old life and then the subject would inevitably turn to the invasion.”
“I would imagine he saw a lot of bloodshed?”
Charlaine nodded. “He did, especially in those last few weeks.”
“Your father fought? I thought he was a smith?”
“He was, he was the Royal Swordsmith, but like other loyal Calabrians, he took up the sword when the invasion came.”
“Was this a common thing?”
“It was,” she admitted, “and not just men. Many of the soldiers were women.”
Ludwig laughed. “I remember you saying that when we first met. I thought you were pulling my leg.”
“No, it’s true, I swear. Calabria isn’t like it is here, at least it didn’t use to be. Women had many roles that those in the Petty Kingdoms would think of as unacceptable.”
“Fascinating,” said Ludwig. “Tell me more of this invasion. Did your father see many battles
?”
“Not a lot, but he was there when the palace fell.”
“What happened?”
“It was not a pretty sight, I’m told. Queen Eugenia was burned to death by magical fire.”
“And your father saw all this?”
“He did,” she said. “He tried to save her, of course, but all he got for his troubles were burns. You can still see the scars on his arms.”
Ludwig found himself unable to respond.
“That was the last of his days in the old country,” she added.
“The old country. Such a curious turn of phrase.”
“Calabria is one of the oldest kingdoms in the land, or at least it was. I suppose now it will simply disappear from history.”
“Like Therengia,” said Ludwig.
“Therengia? What’s that?”
“A kingdom that was destroyed some five hundred years ago.”
“How is it,” she asked, “that you can be ignorant about so much and yet know about this ancient kingdom?”
Ludwig smiled that same disarming smile that he so frequently employed. “They were warriors,” he simply said, as if that explained everything.
“I’m sure they were much more than warriors. ”
“Well, admittedly, there was more to them than just fighting, but that’s what they were known for.”
“If they were such great warriors,” she asked, “then why were they defeated?”
“The scholars say they rotted from within.”
“Rotted?”
“Yes, fell apart due to internal dissension. Of course, we’ll likely never know the real story. All of those accounts were written well after the fact.”
Charlaine smiled. “Now it’s you that’s trying to fool me.”
“No, it’s true, I swear it. There’s even ruins near here.”
“Ruins?”
“Yes,” he said. “Some sort of stone structure.”
“Sounds intriguing. Do you think it belonged to these Therengians?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.”
“It'd be interesting to see.”
“I can take you there if you’d like,” Ludwig offered. “It’s only a few miles from here, but the terrain gets hilly. It would likely take less than half a morning to ride there. Do you think your horse would be up to it?”
Tempered Steel Page 6
