She placed a hand over his. “And I’ll be waiting.”
“Promise?” His lips moved closer to hers.
“Forever.” She closed the distance between them. They embraced, lost in a kiss that would have to last them for many days to come.
Three
Reunited
Radek rolled his sleeping mat. He’d not had a sound sleep these last several nights. He missed his bed and the safer surroundings of his solid home. It’s not that he was unaccustomed to sharing his sleeping space or even to less luxurious bedding. Truth be told, he preferred to lay his back on a firmer surface. And he did not mind Zdenek’s close presence. They had roomed together in Prague while attending lectures at Charles University. The man’s daily habits had become second nature.
But Radek had been spoiled at the chateau—his own room with a rather large bed. Room to think, room to just be.
Everything was different now. That time was in the past.
Would they ever see Stepan again?
Zdenek coughed off to Radek’s right, but Radek ignored it. His friend’s lungs took a few minutes to get going. The coughing was just part of his morning routine.
Where had his thoughts been? Oh yes, Stepan. Once more, Radek envied that his friend had been able to choose which side of this conflict to fight on. Stepan had chosen long before this war began. Pavel had too. Maybe that’s what he should have done. As it was, the side he would fight for had been all but thrust upon him. This did not seem to bother Zdenek, but he was much more laid back. Radek wanted to know he believed in what he was fighting for. Did he?
Something thrust against Radek’s ribs. He held up a hand to push against the offending object.
Zdenek’s elbow.
As Radek’s hand clamped over Zdenek’s arm, Radek met his eyes as they widened. Radek’s other hand smoothed over his injured side. “What?”
Zdenek nodded off to the left. “The commander is coming. Should we stand?”
“I don’t know.” Radek was just as new to this as Zdenek.
“I think we should.” Zdenek rose, maneuvering his head to catch a better glimpse of the man they would follow into battle.
Radek followed suit and got to his feet, but rather reluctantly. He did see the small contingency of men coming through the camp. They were led by a man—stout, broad, everything a great Czech military man should be. A beard covered his face and he had a patch over one eye. What was the story behind that?
He didn’t have much time to think on it before Zdenek broke into his thoughts. “Radek, it’s Pavel! Do you not see him?”
Radek cocked his head to the side and scanned the group following Commander Zizka. There, near the back, a blond head among the others. Was it? He narrowed his eyes to focus his vision and watched until the man’s face came into view. It was! Pavel walked among the commander’s men.
“Pavel!” Zdenek called out, stepping toward the group.
Radek reached out to stop him but not fast enough. Zdenek was already a few steps away. Pushing out a breath through his teeth, he seethed. What could he do but follow?
Pavel’s head had turned.
Several Pavels.
And several men by other names.
It seemed as if all eyes were on them as they moved through the men packing their campsites. But they had gotten the attention of the Pavel they sought. He stopped, and turning, squinted his eyes in the direction of the men coming toward him. Radek was sure he would never forget the smile that broke across Pavel’s face.
“Zdenek! Radek!” Pavel stepped to the left, closing the distance.
The two men each grabbed one of Pavel’s arms.
“I cannot believe you are here,” Pavel said, grasping their arms as if never to let go. “I feared what may have happened to you both.”
“We were in Prague when Queen Sofia’s mercenaries attacked.” Zdenek spoke of it openly, but Radek knew it was not without reservation. “And we joined the fight. No one is going to oppress our people again.”
Radek did not know what to say, so he remained silent.
Pavel’s attention was on Zdenek, and he seemed not to notice.
“I am sorry to hear you were forced to endure such.” Pavel’s voice was low, his eyes sad. “But I am glad you have joined us.”
Radek’s stomach turned. Was he now a Hussite? It did not feel right to take on that title.
Looking back to the group Pavel had been walking with, Radek saw that the group had stopped to watch the display.
“Commander Zizka,” Pavel addressed the man as he would a friend. How was that possible? Were all Hussites on such terms no matter their station?
Radek focused on what Pavel was saying.
“These are my dear friends. They have come to fight with us. I trust them with my life.”
Commander Zizka sized each of them with his good eye before sticking out a hand toward them in turn. His grip was quite firm.
“Gentlemen,” he said, nodding. “Any friend of Pavel’s is welcome. Certainly a trusted friend.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Zdenek seemed rather struck by meeting the man. “We are proud to be of service.”
Radek continued to maintain his silence, still not wanting to contribute anything he didn’t mean. And he did not wish to speak what was on his mind. These men might not receive it well. How would his friends receive it?
“I planned to show these fine men the battle carts I commissioned. Would you care to join us?” His one eye searched their faces. Was he trying to discern their intentions? Their trustworthiness?
Radek did his best to appear compliant.
Were Pavel and Zdenek’s eyes on him as well? It felt like it.
“I would be honored.” Zdenek sounded confident in his loyalty.
Radek, unsure he could put forth such an assertive effort, nodded.
“Very well,” Commander Zizka said, turning toward Pavel. “Shall we?”
“Of course.” Pavel moved to follow the commander back to the waiting group, waving for Zdenek and Radek to follow.
Zdenek all but skipped after Pavel, but Radek could not help the heavy feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach. What was he going to do?
* * *
Dusk settled upon the Bornekov residence. Petr and Lenka supped in relative peace. There was always the lingering concern after their daughter’s well-being, but she was as safe as could be, well within Hussite-controlled territory. Was she happy?
If he had to guess, Petr would say so. He hadn’t had much time to watch her and Pavel together, but what he had seen assured him that what they shared was true and deep. There was no doubt Pavel would put her needs above his own, would give his life for her if need be. Still, though that reassured him, Lenka worried after their daughter. She was a mother. And nothing could change that.
Cutting across his beef and dumplings, Petr shifted his gaze to look at his wife. She was, likewise, distracting herself with her meal. In the flicker of the candles that lit the dining room, he saw sadness in her features.
“Tell me,” he spoke, breaking the thick silence between them. “What say you to a turn about the gardens tomorrow?”
Lenka’s eyes were on him then. Something played across her features. Confusion? Surprise?
It wasn’t difficult to determine why. Since his return, he had shut himself in his study most days, recording all that had happened during the negotiations and regaining control on his business. It just now occurred to him that he had shut her out too.
“That would be nice.” She reached for her goblet and took a long sip.
What should he say about his revelation? Should he apologize? How to begin? What to say? He never was good at these sorts of things.
A silence fell between them.
Perhaps he could just say what was on his heart. “Lenka, I . . . ”
The massive door opened.
Why now? Petr’s head drooped slightly before he redirected to face whomever came into the room. Th
e butler strode toward him. Tempted to give him a cross look, Petr forced a neutral expression onto his face. What could be so important it would not wait? He took a breath. His faithful butler would not disturb him with anything less than the most critical affair.
Jiri came around to where Petr sat and leaned in as if he shared a great secret. “My lord, Mr. Matousek is here to see you.”
What was the caretaker of their summer home doing here? He should be doing just that—caretaking the home.
Petr’s eyes met Lenka’s. She would not have heard Jiri’s quiet notification, and he did not wish to alarm her further.
“This will only take a moment.” With that, he stood, placing his napkin on the table and following Jiri to his solar where Jarek Matousek waited.
The man’s clothes were disheveled and his hair wild. Had he come in a hurry? Petr paid little mind other than to make a mental note of it. He wanted to know what was going on. Now.
“Jarek,” he said, dispensing with the pleasantries. He had not the time for them. “What brings you to my home at this hour?”
“My lord, we received the strangest declaration at the summer house today. I thought it best I bring it to you myself.” The man’s voice was as shaky as his hand. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a piece of paper. It had been crumpled at the edges where it had made contact with his clothing, but it was still largely untouched.
Petr took the paper from Jarek and opened it, moving to sit on a nearby chair. He was but a few words in when he jerked his head back up. “Who brought this to you?”
“‘Twas a lawyer man, my lord.” His reply was simple, but it caused warmth to drain from Petr’s face.
This could not be right. A lawyer? What recourse did they have?
“What does it say?” came a voice from behind him. He jerked his head around. Lenka stood in the doorway. Had she followed him?
He was on his feet at once, folding the letter and moving to her. “My darling, it is not a matter to concern yourself with . . . ”
“It has upset you. I want to know what it says.” Lenka had a fire in her eyes. She was not going to back down.
“Jarek, would you excuse us?” Petr faced the man who still appeared rather harried from his trip. “There is fresh food in the kitchen. You remember where it is?”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you.” The man moved past Lenka and out of the parlor.
Petr shut the door behind him. Best to keep his and Lenka’s conversation from curious ears. “Please, sit,” he said to his wife, waving toward the sitting area.
She opened her mouth as though she was about to argue, but then closed it. Taking the few steps toward the settee, she planted herself there. Then her intense gaze rested on him, boring into him.
He felt the full weight of it. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Jarek received notice today that we are to vacate the summer house and its premises within the week.”
Her eyes widened. “On whose authority? Who can order us off our own property?”
“Vlastik.”
She shook her head. “I do not understand. How can he command us to do anything with our summer home? And why would he care? Does he not have enough properties of his own?”
Petr shrugged. “It is part of Karin’s dowry we signed away. It’s a contract. That property now legally belongs to Karin and Stepan. And Stepan, as its new owner, is demanding we vacate.”
“But they never married.” Her brows furrowed. Lenka’s confusion was growing, not easing.
“According to the marriage contract, they are married. You know as well as I do that the ceremony is nothing more than a formality. The contract is what matters. And we signed one.”
Lenka sat in silence. Was she trying to let it sink in? Yes, it was becoming obvious to her, as it was to him—they never considered the legalities of the contract.
“What are we to do? What does this mean for Karin?” Her voice came out hoarse, broken.
“We are going to find our own legal assistance. This cannot be the first time something like this has happened. And I do not think this means anything for Karin. She is beyond their reach. Even if she were not, I think Vlastik is out to inflict pain. I do not think he would truly see Karin as a fit bride for his son. Not after everything that has happened.”
Lenka nodded. Her eyes were wide and her countenance downcast. How he hated bringing more worry into her world.
He stepped to where she sat, taking a seat next to her. “All will be well, my dear.” His free hand reached for hers, intertwining their fingers. “Even should the worst come, we have not lost anything we could not afford to lose. Just a luxury. But I am not convinced that even that is gone.”
She squeezed his hand. And he knew she was pulling what strength she could from him. So, he set the letter down and gathered her into his arms.
* * *
Eva Valenta tucked her skirts as she bounced in the wagon. Her small family had packed their few precious possessions and headed for southwestern Bohemia. Father had heard there was safety in that region for Hussites—a congregating colony of sorts. She never imagined he would take up with the radical faith, but something about it rang true with him. And so here he was, ready to sacrifice everything to pursue that movement.
What would become of this Hussite movement? That remained to be seen. Eva feared putting her heart into something that may be gone with the next passing gust of wind. It was enough that her father had risked everything they had, their futures for the cause.
Her sister, Patricie, groaned beside her. She did not fare well on long trips. Even a ride to a nearby town was taxing on her stomach, much less traveling halfway across the Bohemian territory. Eva had done her best to steady her and keep her mind on other things, but nothing helped. The bumpier the road got, the sicker Patricie became.
“We will stop soon,” Father promised.
Patricie nodded her thanks but continued to hold her arms across her midsection. She was a faint shade of green by now.
“Look, Patricie!” Eva pointed to the forest line in the distance. “A doe.”
Her sister glanced in that direction and nodded, but it did nothing to quell her nausea. If only she had other things to turn her mind toward.
Eva herself had a hard time not thinking about the young man who had come to call on her so many weeks ago. His green eyes had lit up when she came to the door. She warmed at the memory. He had amused her, it was true. But in a good way. Had he ever courted a girl? Or even talked to a girl? The way he tripped over himself at the ball made her doubt as much.
“What are you smiling about?” It was Patricie’s voice breaking into her thoughts.
“Nothing,” Eva said, letting out a long breath. Truly it was nothing. Or at least it would come to nothing. He was of noble birth. A courtship between them would never be allowed.
“You are thinking about him again.” It was not a question. Her sister knew her too well.
Eva nodded but did not look over. There was sadness in her heart she knew would be translating to her features.
Her sister’s hand fell on her arm. It was her way of showing sympathy, as they both knew the match would never be. Their prospects were not as bad as some girls in the village, but their father’s new obsession with the teachings of Jan Hus had not improved them. Certainly uprooting them and his growing business would eliminate any possibilities they might have had of making good matches. Now they had naught but their good looks and character to put them forth as marriage material. It was a hard truth, but a truth all the same.
“I think this is a good stopping place,” Father said, indicating a nearby stream that had just come into view.
Eva and Patricie nodded.
It would feel good to wash off some of the dust from the road. Only to get back in the wagon and acquire more.
Still, she would revel in the few moments of having a clean face. A woman must not neglect the simple things in life. That is what her mother would say, were she here.
Mother had not been with them for some years, not since the plague swept through town and claimed a life in almost every house in their village.
Father slowed the horses as they approached the stream. He jumped down and reached up to help his daughters out of the wagon.
Patricie seemed quite dizzy once on solid ground and had a difficult time finding her footing.
Eva was by her side, steadying her.
Father took the horses closer to the stream and Eva steered her sister toward the water as well.
Once they were almost to the stream’s edge, Patricie released her hold on Eva and raced at the water, emptying the contents of her stomach just short of the stream.
Eva was soon beside her, holding her hair, offering as much comfort as she could.
When Patricie was done, she sat back and let out a loud sigh.
“You all right?” Eva continued to stroke her back.
Patricie nodded, turning to look at her sister. “Much better.”
Eva nodded. They sat at the water’s edge for several moments while the horses drank their fill and then commenced grazing.
After some time, Eva stood. “Let’s wade.” She jerked her head toward the stream and whispered to her sister as if it were a scandalous thing she suggested. After all, there were some benefits to being a simple merchant’s daughter. Not having to stand on propriety was definitely one of them.
Their shoes were off in seconds and they plunged into the cool stream, holding their skirts up. It was a lost cause and they knew it, for soon they were splashing at each other.
By the time Father was calling for them, they were all but soaked. But they were no longer road-weary. They were happy and rejuvenated.
“Looks like you two had a time. Best get back on the road.” Father held out a hand to help lift the first daughter into the wagon.
Eva stepped forward, still wringing out her skirt.
Patricie groaned, but came to the wagon to be hoisted up next.
“We need to pick up the pace,” Father informed them.
Patricie’s face drained of color.
The Lady And The Hussites (The Lady Bornekova Book 2) Page 4
