“Ludwig would never do that,” Charlaine insisted, but her voice was less convincing.
“For your sake, I hope not, but you must be careful, Charlaine. You're treading dangerous waters. It’s not only Ludwig’s wishes here, but those of his father. Do not underestimate the baron’s role in all of this.”
“I’m fully aware of the baron’s wishes in that regard.”
“Then you know the danger,” Estelle said. “Baron Verheld is a powerful man. He can make life difficult for you, for all of us, in fact.”
“Are we not free?”
“We are not peasants if that’s what you mean.”
“No,” said Charlaine. “I mean, we are free folk of the city, not bound in service to the baron.”
“We might not serve him directly, but he still wields immense power over us. One word from him, and we could find all our customers evaporate.”
“He is but one man.”
“Yes, but he has the ears of many. You and your father make swords, Charlaine, some of the best in all the kingdom. How many people do you think could afford to purchase such swords if nobles were persuaded otherwise?”
Charlaine was beginning to understand the influence of the baron.
“For Saint's sake,” added Estelle, “his cousin is the king. Ludwig might even rule the kingdom one day.”
“He’s only the son of a baron,” Charlaine protested.
“People die, often in unexpected ways, and the king has no direct heirs at present. Admittedly, there are many before him in the line of succession, but stranger things have happened.”
“And?”
“And how do you think the other nobles of the realm would take to a king who consorts with lowly smiths?”
“Smithing is an honourable profession.”
“So it is,” her mother agreed, “but still not fit for the wife of a king, or a baron’s son for that matter.”
“I'll keep your words in mind, Mother, but I can assure you we are simply friends.”
“My dear, when it comes to men and women being friends, it is never simple. Now, I've had my say, and I shall speak of this no more. It's up to you now, Charlaine. You must decide what your course of action will be.”
“And if I choose to be with him?”
“Then my heart goes out to you, but we shall all pay the price when the baron hears of it.”
Charlaine sat in silence for some time. The air felt oppressive in the room, and she longed to ride back out into the open countryside, anything to escape her present situation. Finally, she rose.
“I have a lot of thinking to do,” she said.
“As I suspected you would,” said Estelle. “Have you eaten?”
“No, we were delayed at the keep.”
“Oh? Why was that?”
“We rode out to the ruins today and saw signs of Orcs.”
“What of it?” her mother asked. “I would suspect there are a number of them hereabouts.”
“We had to return to Verfeld Keep and inform the baron.”
“I gather he sent out soldiers to investigate?”
“He did,” said Charlaine. “How did you know?”
“It is often the way of such men, to send force when diplomacy would be better suited. It reveals the true nature of his lordship.”
“Which is?”
“Lord Frederick reacts to threats with force, preferring a direct approach to problems.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning,” explained Estelle, “that if, or rather, when, he objects to your relationship with Ludwig, he will likely respond in a similar manner.”
“You think he’d send troops? I find that hard to believe.”
“Maybe not soldiers, but certainly men he can trust.”
“To do what?” said Charlaine. “Kill me?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him, but I rather suspect that would only be a last resort. No, I think it likely we’d be visited by some unseemly characters, little more than thugs, really. They'd use threats to try to intimidate us, and that makes me uneasy.”
“You fear them?”
“No,” her mother replied. “I fear how your father would react. He is a proud man and a seasoned warrior. He won’t take an insult like that sitting down.”
“It won’t come to that,” Charlaine assured her. “And, in any case, things won’t go that far. I can’t have you and Father in danger. I’ll end things with Ludwig.”
A tear came to her mother's eyes. “I can't ask that of you, Charlaine.”
“You’ve been trying to tell me that all along. Why change now?”
“I know the heartbreak that it will cause you, and you'll forever wonder what might have been.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said,” Estelle interrupted. “I lost a great love, but without that love, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.”
“He rejected you, and you still love this… this cavalero that spurned you?”
Her mother nodded. “I know. It’s terrible, isn’t it? You have to understand, Charlaine, and I think, deep down, you do. A cavalero is the very symbol of virtue and bravery. How can someone not love such a man?”
Charlaine shook her head. “I thought I understood you, Mother, but now… now I can’t even bear to look at you. You complain that you were treated abysmally by this man, and yet you confess to still loving him?”
“One day, you will understand.”
“I very much doubt that, but in the meantime, I think it best if we speak no more of this.”
Charlaine fled, her heart a conflict of emotions. Her room awaited her, and she entered, slamming the door shut behind her. It felt like a cage now, little more than a place of confinement. She had thought her parents a loving, adoring couple, but now she realized it was all built on deceit. Did her mother genuinely love her devoted Papa? Somehow, she doubted it.
10
Reflection
Summer 1094 SR
* * *
Ludwig sat patiently as the servants cleared away the food. His father held out his hand, waiting as wine was poured into his chalice. When the serving maid scuttled off, her nervous glance back at the table was curious to Ludwig's eyes. Was he imagining things, or were they all apprehensive around his father? Ludwig was used to servants. They had been around his entire life, but now he saw them through different eyes. These were real people, depending on his family for their living. He watched as Chambers brought his master a bottle. The old fellow limped as he walked, and Ludwig wondered why he had never noted the man's infirmity before. Then he noticed the maid, Irana, smiling discreetly at one of the guards and wondered what secrets that look might hold.
Ludwig was suddenly struck by the realization that these were real people, with their own lives, loves, and dreams. Thoughts came to him unbidden as if an entire world had just been revealed. What if he had been born a commoner? What would his life have been like? Would he be slipping into rooms unseen to pour wine for an ungrateful noble?
Ludwig watched as the old servant topped up his wine.
“Thank you, Chambers,” he said.
The look of surprise on the old man's face brought a smile to the young lord.
“Is the master feeling well today?” Chambers asked.
“I’m quite well, yes,” Ludwig replied. “Thank you for asking.”
Ludwig returned to his inner musings, sipping his wine with great care. Lady Astrid was rattling on about something, but his mind tuned out the discourse, focusing instead on the servants as they scurried about. When the room fell silent, he became keenly aware that everyone was staring at him.
“Well?” asked the baron.
“Well, what?”
“What do you think of Lady Astrid’s idea?”
Ludwig reddened in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”
“Likely on that foreigner,” offered Berthold.
“Now, now,” said Lady Astrid. “You mustn’t blame Ludwig fo
r his indiscretions. He is but a young man, after all.”
“He’s not much older than me,” complained Berthold, “and yet it appears he can do no wrong.”
“He is the heir,” said the baron. “Whereas you will have a life of relative ease, he will have the responsibility of keeping this barony going. You would do well to remember that, Berthold.” Federick rose, then drank his cup dry, carelessly tossing it back onto the table. “I must be off. I have work to do.”
Lady Astrid rose to her feet, but he waved her back down. “Stay. Finish your meal. There’s no hurry.”
As Baron Verfeld made his way from the room, his eyes roamed over Irana on the way, producing a look of worry in the young maid's eyes.
“Well, then,” announced Berthold, “if it’s good enough for the baron, then I’m done as well.” He staggered to his feet. The effects of his drinking were quite evident on his face, giving him a reddened complexion as he made his way from the room.
Ludwig found himself alone with Lady Astrid. They sat in silence for a little while, both sipping their drinks. Ludwig’s thoughts turned to Charlaine, and he imagined her working at her forge.
“Tell me,” said Astrid, “what is this woman like, this foreigner of which Berthold speaks?”
For a moment, he was speechless. They had eaten together many times but had rarely conversed, and most definitely never alone!
“She’s wonderful,” Ludwig found himself sharing. “I think you’d like her.”
“Would I, indeed? And what is it about her that you find so intriguing?”
Now he found himself at a loss for words.
“Come now,” Lady Astrid continued, “I’m not trying to trap you into revealing something dreadful, but I am curious. You seem so distracted of late.”
He wasn’t sure what he found more unsettling, the fact that she was right, or the fact that she even noticed. “I’m not quite sure,” he finally revealed. “That is to say, I like being around her, but I can’t say exactly why.”
“Is it her appearance, would you say?”
“I can’t deny that I find her attractive, but I’ve met many the woman that was prettier. No, it’s something else. She’s a tremendously strong person.”
“Isn’t she a smith?”
“She is, but I don’t mean physically strong, I mean there’s a strength to her character that I’ve never experienced in anyone else.”
Lady Astrid smiled. “You’re in love with her.”
Ludwig tried to wave it off, but deep down, he knew she was right. “Why would you say that?”
“Call it woman’s intuition if you like, but I can see the effect she’s had on you. And you’re all the better for it.”
“My father would disagree. He thinks she’s a bad influence.”
“I suppose that’s only natural for a noble,” Astrid mused. “In his own way, he wants what he feels is best for you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“By all means.”
“Do you love my father?”
His stepmother smiled, but he saw the veneer slip a little. “I married your father for his title, as you well know. It was a union that was beneficial to us both. I gained his title, and he received my late husband's fortune. Frederick is a good man, and this marriage serves both our interests, but that’s enough about me. Tell me more about this woman that has so captured your heart, Ludwig.”
“I feel alive when I'm near her,” he confessed, “despite the fact that I hardly know her.”
“You want to learn more,” she teased.
“I do, very much so. The truth is, I haven’t felt this alive in such a long time.”
* * *
That evening found Ludwig in his room examining his old sword, which looked like it needed some sharpening. He made a mental note to see the keep's weaponsmith come morning. Perhaps, he mused, he even might visit Charlaine instead. He was confident she would be more than capable of putting a new edge on it.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
“Come,” he commanded.
The door opened, revealing the sleepy countenance of Carson.
“I have a letter for you, my lord.”
“For me? Who's it from?”
“I regret I don’t know,” the servant replied, “but it came by way of a rider from Malburg.”
Ludwig took the letter. It was folded and sealed with wax, though no signet adorned it. Across the front was the name ‘Ludwig’ written in a steady hand. Could this be from Charlaine? His pulse quickened, but then he became acutely aware that he was not alone.
“That’s all, Carson. Thank you.”
“Of course, my lord. I shall leave you to your privacy.”
Ludwig waited as the man left, closing the door behind him, then tore open the letter, eager to devour it, but it was not at all what he was expecting.
* * *
My dear Lord Ludwig,
* * *
I have enjoyed the time we spent together, but I regret that such a friendship cannot continue. I think it best that we do not see each other again. Know that I am very fond of you, but ours is a relationship that can never be. We are from different worlds, you and I, and each of us belongs in our own place.
I beg you accept this note with all the grace and dignity with which it was written, and I pray you respect my wishes and do not visit me again at the smithy.
I shall treasure the brief time we had together, but it is better for all this way.
* * *
Charlaine.
* * *
Ludwig felt his heart stop. He struggled to come to grips with it, but he couldn't. In his mind, things had been going splendidly. He tried to shrug it off, telling himself there were plenty of other women out there, but no matter what he did, his thoughts kept drifting back to her smile, her dark hair, and her brown eyes.
* * *
Ludwig sat alone in the library, a book lying on his lap, the pages open but unread. He stared down at the paper, his mind in turmoil.
Lady Astrid strode by, pausing by the open door when she noticed him. “Something wrong, Ludwig?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It's nothing.”
“That look tells me it is indeed something,” she mused, “but I shall not pry.” She looked at the book. “What’s that?”
Ludwig looked down at the book, closing it and showing her the cover. “It’s the Ferengeld Saga,” he said, “one of my favourites. My mother used to read it to me when I was younger.”
She entered the room, placing her hand on the back of a chair. “May I?”
“Of course,” he replied.
She sat, staring at the book. “What’s it about?”
“It tells the adventures of a knight that travels the Petty Kingdoms, righting wrongs.”
“Ah, a knight errant. A popular theme at court.”
“Did you ever read to Berthold when he was younger?”
A look of sadness crossed Astrid's face. “I’m afraid not. I always wanted to, but my first husband didn’t believe in such things. He claimed it bred a weak character.”
The shock on Ludwig's face must have been obvious.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she said. “My first marriage was arranged, much as my second to your father. I did my duty, giving him a son, but then he died at sea.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Seven years.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ludwig offered.
“I went into seclusion after that, until I was summoned to the duke’s estate. That's where I met your father.”
“And a second arranged marriage?”
“We are nobles, with little choice in such things. The duke wanted to cement ties with his cousin, your King Otto, and a marriage was the best way to accomplish that.”
“Tell me,” he asked. “Have you ever truly been in love?”
She blushed, and for a moment, he thought she might rebuke him, but instead, she nodded. “
Once, an awfully long time ago. He was the captain of a company of footmen, and far beneath my station.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I wanted a life of luxury that he couldn’t afford, and so I refused him. It was a choice I have always regretted, and even now, I wonder what would have become of me had I married for love instead of wealth and position.”
Astrid stared at him, but he couldn’t keep her gaze. Instead, his eyes drifted to the book.
“What is it, Ludwig? Has something happened?”
He reached into his tunic and pulled forth Charlaine’s letter, hesitating for a moment before handing it over.
She unfolded it with tender care, perusing its contents. Tears came to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Ludwig.”
“What shall I do? I must go to her!”
“No. You must respect her wishes. Give her some space. In the fullness of time, she might change her mind.”
“Would you have, for your captain?” he asked.
“I would like to think I would have, but I was never given the opportunity.”
11
The Town
Autumn 1094 SR
* * *
Charlaine watched the coals die down. It was getting late, and darkness would soon descend, making work difficult. Smithing wasn’t only about striking glowing iron, many smaller tasks required attention, and they needed the one thing that the night denied her, decent light.
She cast her eyes to the tools, each in its proper place. Usually, such things made her feel pride at keeping a clean workspace, but tonight it made the place feel barren.
Removing her apron, she advanced to the hook by the door, ready to hang it up, but before she could, it opened, revealing none other than Ludwig himself.
“Ah,” he said. “Just the person I was looking for.”
Caught off guard, she fumbled for words. “I…”
Tempered Steel Page 9
