He was in the armory when Siegfried came by seeking him out. The lad took one look at the weapons and pointed out the problems.
Percival scowled. He didn't want the reminder, but the lad was right. “What do you suggest?” he asked, forcing himself to be civil.
Siegfried told him about what he'd been taught about weapon maintenance. The knight listened but then had a legatus and the armorer come and listen. Siegfried gave an impromptu class on weapon maintenance but found his students were not eager to listen. Most were bored and didn't care that he was the teacher.
He finally called it at dinner time, unsure if he'd had any sort of impact or not.
~~~^~~~
Siegfried took a second team out to the forest for wood and meat during a clear day. They didn't bring back as much the second time. The report of a roar had panicked everyone into returning early, but they still came back with something.
He made sure that a selection of the meats was brought to the princess. The princess’s servant girl, Emma, had smiled and said that she had thanked him for it.
He thought that the time was ripe to talk with her, so he made his way up the tower steps. He imagined she would be cold and fantasies of her falling into his arms came to him. He knew she was alone, had been alone except for the occasional brief visit.
He went up the stairs in a fur trimmed cloak; the hem was weighted down to keep it from flaring too much in the wind. He was in his best finery. The guards took one look and smirked but opened the door for him.
“Look, I know of a way to end this,” he said.
Zara cocked her head at him but remained aloof. He saw his breath and came over to her. She had to be cold. He hid a grimace, expecting a smell. There was one but not much of body odor. She had no perfumes, but she seemed clean.
“If we marry, they'll have to take us seriously,” he said in a wheedling tone of voice.
She stared at him.
“Look, I didn't want this. Any of this!” he waved a hand. “I tried to let you know something was going on; you refused to listen. You wouldn't let me talk to you!”
She stared at him.
“But I'm here now. You are here. We can end all this. End the suffering; get things back on track as you planned. Your sister will approve; my blood is pure,” he said, reaching for her.
She brushed his hand aside.
“If that is your best attempt at seduction, you are a failure in more ways than one,” she said, voice as cold as the room.
“There is nothing wrong in giving in. I'll warm you up, come on,” he murmured, trying again.
She brushed his hand aside and moved away. “No.”
He stopped and stared at her. "I could order you to my bed," he said as anger rose within him over her rejection. He'd thought she'd be grateful!
"You can try. I've been that route before," she said defiantly. "You will take no pleasure from it."
"I might," he muttered before he left in a swirl of his cloak.
“Try and one of us won't survive the experience,” she said as he opened the door and went through it. He turned back to glare at her and then slammed the door.
~~~^~~~
Zara shivered as she heard his footfalls down the stairs. It could have been easy to fall for him. In fact, looking at it from a political and survival view, she probably should have. She could have made him pay later. But her pride refused to allow her to submit to her.
She shivered again, not in the cold but in the thought of those cold hands on her. The hands of others too. She tucked her legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her.
It would be a cold day indeed before he ever warmed her or her bed.
~~~^~~~
Siegfried stormed down the steps and snarled at her refusal. The domina was there at the base of the stairs waiting. Domina Rasmussen was amused by Zara's fire and rejection. "Let that warm her then," she said. “She just needs longer,” she said.
Siegfried gave her a sour look but then turned away.
Privately, the domina liked the girl's fire. Any other girl would have given in. She had pride, and that was both good and bad. If it was any measure of what her family was like … she shied away from doing a full comparison to the imperatrix.
Had the princess been clever, she might have let the lad seduce her in order to get out of the tower and then from there play the long game. But no, either she didn't want to risk it or her pride had gotten in the way.
Or, she frowned as a fresh thought caught up with her. Or, the stories of the princess’s rape were true. That would explain her frigid responses to the lordlings that had flirted and courted her. She expected it was Siegfried's seeming betrayal that played a roll too.
Well, he was useful, so she wouldn't bring in someone to try to replace him just yet. She'd give him another chance in time.
She let Siegfried and the girl stew overnight. She wanted to keep the princess alive though, so she ordered some more firewood to be sent up the next morning. She also checked on Emma to make sure the girl was not getting troublesome again. She wanted her orders followed properly.
~~~^~~~
Herb made minor repairs to the castle. He had very little stamina though. He did get them to get water so they could check the pipes. He found those that had burst and cut them out, then replaced them with his limited spare stock. That allowed them to fire up the boiler and get some running water again, even hot water for the kitchen.
The sight of some progress and hot water helped with morale in the castle a bit. It also allowed Domina Rasmussen to do something she'd wanted to do for a while, take a hot bath.
She made sure that the smith was fed and that food was given to the prisoners as well as a couple of spare furs, all from the animals that Siegfried had recently killed. The furs hadn't been preserved but something was better than nothing.
Herb found himself chasing down minor problems all over the castle. He couldn't do anything about the power though. They only had the one wind turbine on the roof, and someone had chopped up and taken the copper wires running to it and to the lightning rod. He warned them of the dangers of that missing wire, but the dominus shrugged it off.
Domina Rasmussen brought him the princess's devices. He took one look and shook his head. “I can do nothing for the laptop or other devices.”
“You can't or won't?” the domina demanded.
“Can't. Tis very delicate. Some might get parts out of them. Someone like the king or Max might be able to fix them,” he said with a shake of his head. “I didn't spend time in electronics, tis why I'm here. I did big machinery.”
The domina nodded and turned away, leaving him to work on what he could.
~~~^~~~
Emma was a bit smug about the hot water. It proved they could get things running again. The smugness faded when she saw the Imperial tech smith under guard making the repairs.
That irritated her. But she managed a bath in the hot tub and made a note to torment the princess about it later.
~~~^~~~
When there was a long clear spell and no clouds on the horizon, Domina Rasmussen took a chance and visited her lands. She left her staff behind and took a light guard with her. She wanted some of her things and wanted to show face and recruit more of her people. Some of the veterans from the war had returned to her lands. She hoped the long cold and boredom, not to mention the stories of the win in the capital, would make them willing to sign up.
She was dismayed that her stewards hadn't been able to keep things up. The castle was dirty; her quarters had not been stocked with wood. Her window had been left open, just a crack but enough for leaves and dirt to get inside. She'd been distrusted, and Cursius's insistence that they'd locked the room to keep others at bay had only angered her further.
She spent some time berating them. After all, it had been a long hard ride, and she'd come home looking forward to seeing everything in order. The two stewards she'd left behind were old, but she had them whipped anyway for
being lazy. She made a public display of it to enforce discipline and remind the rusticus who was in charge. She even had those closest to her castle jostled out of their huts and brought to watch.
By the third stroke and groan she realized she'd gotten carried away. But, with so many witnesses she couldn't countermand her own order and not look weak.
After the whipping, the medicus attended to them. She got a grim report from the medicus that one had not survived her rough punishment. She wanted to shrug it off but shook her head. It was wasteful of her, another mistake, one she could ill afford.
In the morning, she found that the old man's family had left in the night, taking what belongings they could. That meant less people for her to lead. It also meant one less person to lead in her absence.
The remaining steward, Cursius, died the following evening. She heard the wails from his family and sighed heavily. That night she watched the family from the window as they left. One shot her window a poisonous look and then took off. They left on foot up the path to the village.
Well, it meant that there were fewer mouths to feed, and she wouldn't have to worry about one of them stealing from her or poisoning her.
In the morning, she was up early, having only slept fitfully. Too much weighed heavily on her mind. The respite from the pressure of the capital was nothing of the sort. Instead she had to jostle the remaining staff out of their beds to get the kitchen going. Some complained; they had no idea how to bake the bread or make some of the food. She left one of the few aunts to handle it. The woman was spiteful of her though, so she made sure someone else taste her food first for her.
She was not happy to find out her only medicus had left with the Cursius family. Apparently, she had been his granddaughter. She was tempted to send soldiers to find them and bring her back but then what? She'd have to keep them under guard. There was no point.
It took several dies to get things sorted out, and to appoint one of the mending aunts to act as her steward. A trip to the village brought back a cook who also worked as a midwife and barber, and a draft of louts who were down on their luck and desperate for work in order to survive the winter. They weren't much but they'd have to do.
She planned to leave for the capital the very next morning with what supplies she could but she was delayed by a storm. Instead, she was forced to delay for several dies until it cleared and the roads were passable once more.
~~~^~~~
Duluth Countryside
Tycho made sure his people all had a place to bed down in the abandoned hut. It was tight; only with a couple of them bedded down in the barn and an extra guard outside did they make it work.
He looked over to where Agnes stirred a pot. She had more stew; they'd been fortunate to kill a couple of bucks with bows. The bucks were lean, but the meat was welcome to them.
Despite a few inquiries, he resisted going to the dominus in the area. They didn't know who was on their side, and he didn't want to test loyalties. Nor did he want the enemy to know where they were.
~~~^~~~
Eudoxia made the rounds and then checked on Agnes and her stew. They had a lot of that, stew. It stretched the little food they had.
She hoped Tycho would keep them in place for a while but feared he'd feel the itch and move on soon. She still got a few of the men to work on the hole in the roof, if only to see to their own comfort. And a couple of them and a couple of the civilians brought in extra branches and wood for the fire. The boy was quiet, sticking to Agnes' side as much as possible.
She went out to check on Tacitus. The smith was in the small forge shed on the side of the barn. She could hear the pounding and then the cursing. She peaked and noted he wasn't gasping or holding his wound. He was winded though.
“Problems?” she asked.
He gave her a sour look and then waved to their accommodations. He was clearly frustrated by the situation, the lack of tools, and lack of materials.
She nodded. “Do what you can; that's all you can do. All any of us can do,” she added.
He frowned but realized who was talking and nodded. He'd seen her try to do her best to save some of the ill, try and sometimes fail. She had cried from time to time but had not given up.
Eudoxia checked him and then nodded. She'd had to perform a handful of amputations due to frostbite. She hated it, but it had been necessary. The men had learned to be more careful, at least for a short time.
“What are you working on?” she asked. Someone had left a stone anvil behind and a few bits of metal. Most of it was rusted.
“I was just puttering around. Agnes said she'd like a better hook for the pot,” he said.
She nodded. The hook for the stew pot could barely support it. They'd lost part of a precious meal to the fire once already.
He sighed. “It's useless. Rusted,” he said, tossing the metal aside. “We can't make powder either. And they need to keep what little we have dry.”
She nodded.
“I don't know. I just don't know,” he said with a shake of his head.
“We'll get through it. One step at a time,” she said, hoping he'd take heart. He'd gotten that far; to see him start to break was disheartening to her.
He looked at her and then gingerly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her in for a hug.
Chapter 38
Kattegat
Olaf received the weather delayed report of the ambush at the farmhouse. To the surprise of his legatus , Dominus Fenton, and Percival , he was darkly amused by the turnabout. "I set an ambush; they see it and counter it with one of their own. And now I'm down another quindecium of my best men for my trouble!" he shook his head. "Whoever is leading them is a fiend!" he said in admiration and annoyance.
"Quit praising him and find a way to kill him!" Dominus Fenton demanded.
"I know that! Don't you think I know that?!" he demanded, rounding on the dominus. "We only have so many men to spare!"
"Find more!"
"We only had so many to begin with! And I need men to keep the capital secure, hold the farms, and guard the border. There is only so much to this well; it is dry. I have no more men to chase them. Not in this winter."
"Not to mention the neglect to the farms and industry," the domina added as she joined them. The men turned a glower on her. "I know you don't like my harping you call it …"
"Then don't start," Percival growled.
"But we are short on supplies. Short on wool that was sheered but never spun into thread. The powered looms were not made so we have few blankets. Many had been taken south by the army," she said with a shake of her head. "Food is also an issue. The harvest was good but the looting cost us dearly."
"If it is this tough for us, it must be making others uncomfortable," Percival said nastily.
"We're short on wood. We need woodcutting parties," Fenton said with a nod.
The drott grunted. He had the urge to send a party with the weapons but resisted it. They were using too much of the powder up as it was, and the alchemists had yet to figure it out. They had a small trickle of supplies from their artisans but not the critical parts to make a proper copy of the weapons. It turned out that the long tube and some of the more intricate parts were hard to make. The artisans were still puzzling about how to make the grooves within the tube, let alone make the basic shape.
"Then let the winter kill them or force them to ground and then wait them out," Percival said.
"They may turn up at an inn or farm," the domina said.
"Set out our spies to look for the foreigners. Just find them and report their location. I'd love to see them poisoned or to have someone slip a dagger betwixt their ribs at night, but I'll settle for knowing where they are so we can set the Garmr on them come spring."
"If we don't have other problems around that time," the domina said.
"What was that?"
" Ver is the time of campaigns. Once the Imperium finishes their planting, they'll send an army north to liberate their p
recious princess and lordlings," the domina reminded them.
“If they even know that she is in trouble,” Percival reminded her. “If they don't, they may send a convoy or two with questions about what is going on with that far-talking contraption of theirs. That would give us more supplies,” he said with a bright eager eye.
Dominus Fenton looked up and then nodded at that idea.
“And when they do send an inquiry, it will most likely be a small scouting force. Something that will underestimate our determination. Something we can break and then capture more weapons,” the knight said.
Hostage Rescue (Princess Rescue Inc Book 2) Page 50
