by Sandra Lake
“Step closer and your prince loses his head!” Lothair quickly stepped in front of Katia, using the prince as his shield, holding his sword to Andrei’s throat. “Untie our companions and we will be on our way,” Lothair stated in a calm, authoritative tone. As swiftly as her panic had begun to take her over, it was gone, replaced with hope and crushing gratitude for the man who continued to be her hero.
“You are making a grave mistake, my young friend,” Andrei said.
Vladimir moved slowly, signaling for the prisoners to be brought forward while never shifting his eyes from Lothair’s sword.
“God has spoken to me, baron,” Andrei shouted for all his men to hear. “This ring”—he held it up—“is a sign from God that He is with us. We cannot fail in battle with God on our side.”
Heads turned up to examine the ring, and the group of twenty soldiers began to move toward Lothair.
“Stay back or your prince will lose his head. It’s that simple,” Lothair stated plainly, no quiver or fear in his voice. Vladimir nodded and Fist, Valen, and Tosha were shoved forward into the shrinking middle ground between the two parties. “All of you, down on the ground, get on your bellies,” he instructed the soldiers.
“Lars, get the horses. All of them,” Lothair said quietly in Saxon. Katia twisted her head around to see Lars, who had been unaccounted for, emerge from the forest. “Fist, collect weapons. Valen, get the women on the horses—now,” he commanded. His friends complied quickly. Katia moved closer to Lothair, clutching the front of her gown. She was still trembling uncontrollably, to her everlasting frustration. “Go with Valen,” he growled down to her. She shook her head and pressed in closer to his back.
In short order, Lars lifted Tosha onto the back of a horse, and with a collection of horses, they began to move away from the camp. Valen and Fist had bundled the blades in blankets and fixed them on the saddle of a large warhorse, which appeared to belong to the prince.
“I will track you to the ends of the earth. You cannot hide from God’s righteous judgment, Baron,” Andrei shouted.
“Stop talking,” Lothair said loudly. “Go,” he whispered to Katia.
“Not without you.” She clung tighter to the back of his leather vest.
“Don’t you ever listen?” he whispered more harshly.
“When will you come?” she said in Saxon.
“After. Now go, Kat.”
She swallowed hard and allowed Valen to lead her away. Twisting her head back around, she saw Vladimir charging at Lothair. She screamed.
Everything happened at once. Valen tossed her on the back of a horse and smacked the animal’s rump. She scrambled for the reins, the horse racing out of control in the direction of Lars and Tosha. She squeezed her thighs, securing herself in the saddle, and fisted her hands in the black mane, halting the beast and twisting back around. The horde of soldiers had all risen at the same time, lunging for Lothair. He jerked his sword up, raising the prince high on his toes.
“Get back, you fools!” Andrei yelled.
“Ride, Katia!” Valen shouted.
Lars, Tosha, and the small herd of horses galloped far ahead in the direction of the gray morning light.
Katia had to go back. She couldn’t leave Lothair behind.
Lothair was dragging the prince toward his horse, Homer. As soon as he got close, he shoved the prince forward to the ground and vaulted up into the saddle.
Sounds of the charging, bloodthirsty mob unnerved Katia’s mount. It bucked and neighed, jerking its head madly. She yanked the reins harder to bring the horse under control and turned him back around just as Lothair, riding with increasing speed, reached the forest edge.
“Ride, Katia. Now!” He smacked the back of her horse, charging forward toward the open meadow.
The howling of the Rus soldiers faded behind them, and she thrust an arm out, giving her horse permission to race ahead. “Hah!” She squeezed her thighs, rose up off the saddle and held on for dear life, Lothair riding at her right side.
***
Lars called the group to a stop near midday. The sun was hot and high above their heads. They corralled the herd of horses down a small embankment to take water from the slow-moving brook. Wide-open fields stretched out for a mile behind them, but there was a dense evergreen forest in front of them, mountains to the west. The sun illuminated the golden barley field, making it impossible for their pursuers to approach without detection.
Her limbs stiff with overuse, Katia sat on her horse, clutching the front of her gown with one hand and the reins with the other, keeping a watchful eye on the far edge of the field, expecting Andrei to spring out of the forest at any moment.
Without asking, Lothair reached up and removed her from the horse. He towered over her, his eyes staring daggers into her. Katia felt like a child about to be spanked and sent to bed without dinner. He led her to a large, smooth rock and pressed gently on her shoulder so she would sit. He left her there and returned to his horse to rummage through a saddle pack, returning with a ladle, some bread, and a handkerchief. He crouched down at the edge of the stream. Sunlight sparkled across the surface. The atmosphere was almost dreamlike. Her limbs were heavy and sluggish, so she sat helplessly as she watched Lothair splash water on his face, wipe his neck, and wet his hair, slicking it back off his handsome face.
None of this felt real. She was so far from home, with no real hope of returning now, and so much had happened. The violent shivering returned.
Lothair returned with a ladle full of cool mountain water and passed it to her. He tore off a chunk of bread and placed it in her hand.
“You need to eat something to settle your nerves.” He wouldn’t look at her for more than a passing glance. It was clear he was furious with her. How he must hate her for all the trouble she had caused him.
She held the bread and water and pled for her arms to stop shaking enough to raise either to her lips. He passed her a piece of cloth, but she did not have a free hand to accept.
“You have blood on your face. Here, clean yourself.” He looked away.
She stared down at her trembling hands. She was behaving like an invalid.
Sighing loudly and cursing under his breath, Lothair squatted down, dipped the cloth in the water, and started to clean her face with a firm touch. When he was done, he pulled a thick wool tunic over her head, removed the untouched ladle and bread from her hands, and turned his back so that she could properly cover herself. It was clear he hated her, and though that made her want to burst into tears, she completely understood why. She also hated herself quite a lot at that moment.
***
Lothair scanned the tree line. Logic told him that without horses, the prince could not be in pursuit, yet his inner voice would not quiet. He saw danger in every gust of wind that floated across the field, every shady outline under the trees.
“My thanks, Lothair,” Katia said in a defeated tone. She was so hard to look at like this; uncertainty seemed unnatural on her. She was not this . . . trembling girl. She was a wild hellcat that smiled at you while she tore you apart. He sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. His feelings for her were nothing more than that he would have for a sister, he told himself. There was no folly in touching her to offer the comfort that she needed. She curled into his chest and began to weep.
“I am sorry,” she said. “This is all my fault. I almost got Tosha killed. I almost got all of you killed. I am so sorry, Lothair. He wants me. He knows I am Magnus’s daughter now. Just leave me and go. Take Tosha with you and go.” She looked up, her eyes red and face blotchy. “The prince controls the roads. We cannot go north to the sea. We—they will not stop until—he knows Magnus. I do not fully understand but this has something to do with my father.”
Back at the palace, she had appeared fit and confident. Now he could see the toll these many weeks of playing spy had tak
en on her.
“We need to stay away from all ports outside of Saxon control,” he said. “They will expect us to try again for the fastest route home. No, we will go west, over the mountains.”
He stared at the western mountains, the most challenging, yet fastest, route by land. “We’ll need to separate,” Lothair said. “Valen with one team of horses should go southwest. One team with Fist will head south-southwest, and Lars will take Tosha northwest.” His mind was racing ahead. “We will reunite in Bohemia. Fist and Valen are as at home in Prague as in Lubeck.”
He gazed at the shallow riverbed. Ideas and calculations were rapidly forming; he knew now what needed to be done. “It will take over a month, if the horses hold. When we reach Bohemia, we will be less than two weeks to Lubeck. Most important, from there we will be in German territory. That is what we will do.”
The Slavic and Rus tribes in the area did not trust one another. If they could get over the mountains, then they would be in a new fief. The prince would not be able to control the sparse countryside so far from his stronghold. “If the map you stole is accurate,” he continued, “then the bulk of Andrei’s troops are already too far out of his reach to come after us. We need to get a week ahead and then . . . then we will all have a fair chance. The weather is warm. The mountain pass will be manageable. This will work.
“Come, we need to discuss the plan with the others.” He offered Katia his hand, but she did not accept.
“Why are you doing this, Lothair?” She sounded pitiful. The scab on her lip cracked and a trickle of blood ran down her small chin. “You will all be killed if you are caught with me. You should go ahead—”
“I picked a side, Katia.” He smiled at her, hoping to ease her fretful breakdown. “Did you not notice?” She tried to smile in return, but it was forlorn and he hated the sight of it. He dragged her up to her feet. “Come on, we’ve work to do. We need to sort through the saddle packs and divide supplies.”
Having a small task to do finally got her moving. Valen, Fist, Lars, and Tosha were already sorting and organizing. Andrei’s patrol had not packed much. They would have simply helped themselves to whatever they needed at the nearest farm. What they had plenty of were horses and weapons. They could not eat steel and they would need more supplies to be able to travel high into the remote mountains.
Lothair discussed his ideas with his friends and they were all in agreement. Few options remained at this point. Along the way, they would sell the extra horses as needed to purchase food and supplies. Lars suggested that he and Lothair regroup before Prague, perhaps in Brodno. To travel alone with a woman in the mountains would be one thing, but in the larger villages in between, it would be smarter to have a sword to guard both your front and your back.
Adjusting the leather strapping on Homer, Lothair overheard the women saying their farewell.
“Please forgive me for getting you involved in all this, Tosh. I did not think . . .” Katia trailed off, sounding on the verge of tears again.
“Kat, you never cry.” Her handmaiden rubbed her shoulder. “What did Andrei do to you?” she asked in a low, concerned voice.
Katia did not seem able to look her friend in the eye. “I broke free after he cut my lace—” She raised her hands to her throat. “He has my father’s ring.” A fresh set of tears started. “Far will never forgive me. It was his father’s father’s ring. He—”
“Kat! Kat!” Tosha hugged her friend close. “He will not care about one silly ring. He has a mountain of gold rings. I know. I have to polish them. He has only one daughter, a brave daughter who is trying to protect her brothers. Remember all the reasons you told me why we had to come here?”
Tosha continued to rub Katia’s back. “You’re worrying me. I’ve never seen you look so tired before and we still have a long road ahead. Though my road may be a bit more pleasing than yours. My escort kisses like a dream.” The handmaiden blushed and glanced over at Lars, who was tying down their packs.
“Try and enjoy your adventure. I fear that when your father gets ahold of you, he will be locking you in your room for a year, maybe more. So it’s best we both enjoy our freedom while it lasts.”
Katia kissed Tosha on the cheek. “Thank you. I love you so very much. Please be safe.” Katia tried to smile but it came off pained and twisted looking.
“Take good care of my sister, Lothair.” Tosha flicked her eyes over to Lothair. She looked at him in a way that told him that she knew he had overheard their entire conversation. “I may not look scary, but I have friends in low places that I can set after you.” Tosha wagged her finger at him.
Lars chuckled and helped Tosha up on her horse, his hand lingering for longer than necessary on the young maid’s upper thigh. “Don’t worry about your friend, flicka,” Lars said to Tosha. “Lothair and chivalry go hand in hand. He’s practically a monk.”
“Poor Katia, how dreary. I’m sure glad you’re no monk.” The handmaiden sent Lars a flirtatious look.
Lothair bade farewell to his companions. Until they were all crowded around a tavern drinking ale and toasting to heart and home, Lothair did not expect he would be able to sleep. It would be a very long, lonely, and dangerous month of constantly looking over their shoulders. “God’s speed,” he whispered.
“We’re losing valuable light. Let’s go,” Lothair said to Katia. She peeked over at him and again tried to smile, but it fell flat. Her trembling had stopped, but her normal feisty manner was still absent.
“I’m staying. Here, take this.” She handed up the map and a gold arm ring that bore her name and her father’s mark. “That map was what I came for. At least I finally did something useful with my life. If I don’t go back, Andrei will simply change his plans and this will all have been for nothing.” She stared at him. Her long hair had come loose from her braid and it whipped around her head in the breeze. She pushed her hair off her face, rose up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything. Farewell, Lothair.”
Chapter 8
“I am one minute from tossing you over my knee and giving your backside the tanning it deserves,” Lothair said. “Get on your horse, iron princess.” He shoved her, none too gently, toward the prince’s black Arabian. Coddling her was getting him nowhere so he thought to provoke her to lash out—that would wipe the mewling expression off her face.
“No! Our friends will never know we parted here,” she said. “You have done enough. I did this. I put Tosha in danger. I put you all in danger. Go home to Lubeck. Warn the duke and whomever you can about the upcoming war. Perhaps there is still some time to prepare and protect the north before . . .” Her eyes cast down.
“Get on your horse, Katia!” The warhorse snorted, jerking its head and stomping angrily, unsettled by the tension.
“But—” she started to say.
“Get on your horse and don’t waste my time with this womanly drivel.” He stretched his aching back, waiting for her to take the bait.
“It is not drivel!” She sounded a bit more fired up. Finally.
“Yes it is. Now, I wagered Lars we would beat them to Brodno by a week, so come on. Don’t waste both my coin as well as my time.”
“But—” she began.
“Save your breath, princess,” he said with a grin, knowing how much she hated him calling her that. “I’m not leaving you here and you are not going back to Bogolyubovo.” He slapped her mount’s rump and it lunged forward. He followed close behind her, towing seven horses, their share of the herd, on a long lead.
Including their own personal mounts, they had nine horses, all of very high quality. If he were to keep them all healthy and moving fast, he’d need to keep them well fed with grain. Traveling with a woman, he’d need to provide her with a tent and warmer garments. The list of requirements was getting long. To fulfill it, he’d need to find a farmer with whom he could trade a horse, hopefully long before th
ey reached the steeper mountain passes.
***
A few days later, they came across a farm in poor condition with nothing to trade. Lothair told Katia that they would need to start rationing the little food they had left.
Lothair knew they couldn’t safely keep up this pace, so the day they crossed into Polack territory, he took an hour to hunt a rabbit for dinner and made a proper camp, deeming it safe enough for them to take a full night’s rest.
Katia was asleep the moment her head hit the ground. She looked like a young girl in her sleep, curled in close beside him like a kitten, her hands tucked under her cheek. He did not want to admit how much he liked her proximity.
She was nothing like the girl he remembered from the first time they met. Her body smelled, curved, and moved as a woman. She was no more work to travel the road with than Lars, although her beauty was proving to be very distracting.
Self-mastery in her presence became his second greatest concern, after providing for their basic needs. Over the last few years, he had avoided spending time with maidens for good reason. He would never take a wife—he refused to be used by his father, who would want him to marry for political gain. When the physical need for a woman became more than his own hand could satisfy, he selected courtesans and always took precautions. He would not be responsible for bastards or broken hearts.
Lothair shook his head, dismissing such serious thoughts, and swept a few strands of hair behind Katia’s cheek with his finger. She sighed softly in her sleep. He lowered his head to lie next to her, closer than he had ever dared to lay his head before.
He curled his arm under his head and brazenly studied her features in the moonlight. Her sweet, soft exhale traveled across his skin, and his body went rigid from head to toe. As much as his body ached from fatigue, he did not surrender to sleep, but lay in silence, holding his breath, willingly tormenting himself for this rare pleasure of being so close to her.
***
Two weeks into their journey, they came upon a village that had a vibrant market, where Lothair sold two horses for a price higher than he had hoped, leaving them with seven fine horses to complete their journey, which should be more than enough. He then bought three packs of grain for the horses, several wheels of cheese, and dried salami, the butcher assuring him the curried meat was good for more than a month. He also purchased a small cauldron, knowing that a hot meal would help them ward off illness as the nights grew colder. He was also very pleased to have acquired a well-crafted goatskin canvas that they could make a quick shelter with each night, and spent a little extra coin on a few personal items including soaps, a comb, and a new, warmer boots and a cloak for Katia. Katia had gone off in search of additional blankets and a change of clothing for the mountain passes that were still to come.
