by Sandra Lake
“I know all I ever want to about women.” He glared back at her from across the table.
The innkeeper slapped his hand on Lothair’s shoulder and laughed. “Lovers’ quarrel? Makes a man wonder if they’re worth all the trouble, aye, lad.”
“I ask myself that question every day, sir,” Lothair answered.
Chapter 9
“Truly, Lothair, I don’t mind.” Katia sat on the large, rickety bed. “After sleeping on the ground next to me all these nights, what is the difference in sleeping next to me on a more comfortable surface?”
“Some would say there is a big difference.”
Outside their door, a group of drunkards stumbled down the corridor, their raucous noise filling the dark chamber with even more tension.
“Most of my time spent away from Tronscar will never be repeated to anyone,” Katia said. “I promise to keep my hands to myself if that is what you are worried about.” She began removing her boots.
“Aye, Kat, you have me guarding my virtue more closely these days,” he replied dryly.
“I changed my mind. You should sleep on the floor.” She stomped around the large bed and flung the blanket back.
This infatuation was getting out of hand. She needed to get ahold of herself and find a cure for her unrequited love.
Lothair sat on a chair across the dark room, staring at her. Moonlight from the open shutters painted silver lines across his sharp features. He removed his boots and rose to push the heavy wooden wardrobe in front of the door for added security. He blew out the candle and she heard him removing his belt, his sword and dagger, then crossing the room to place them on the foot of the bed. He did not pull back the blanket but lay down on top of the bed, with all his clothing still in place.
“Sleep well, Kat.” He let out a soft exhale. Her eyes were closed and she imagined he was whispering it right in her ear.
“Sleep well, Lothair.” She turned on her side and let her body sink into the straw mattress. Clean, fed, and lying in a comfortable bed, life did not get more ordinary, nor more wonderful. She fell asleep quickly.
***
Katia carefully followed Lothair’s horse down the side of a densely wooded hillside. As she swayed in her saddle in time with the slow pace, her mind began to wander. The last week of their journey had almost felt like a holiday. They had hearty meals, better weather, and even though the evenings were getting cooler, they were warm and dry under the extra blankets and goatskin tent. Since their horses were well fed, they pushed them to travel faster throughout the day. The ever-changing landscape was beautiful, and riding every day was pure joy. She savored every sunrise and sunset, and shared soft smiles and easy conversation with Lothair throughout the day.
Lothair told her little things about his sisters. The oldest, Margery, had recently wed one of his good friends and lived only a few miles from his holding. He did not speak much more about his mother or father but he did tell her stories from his childhood. The tales of mishaps and adventure reminded her a great deal of her own brothers, and more than once she had to swallow back her tears of longing for home.
The evergreen forest that they were currently riding through had swallowed them up as if they were nothing more than small insects hidden within the thick fur of the foliage. Dry leaves and sticks crunched under their horses’ feet.
Katia gawked openly at Lothair as he rode ahead of her down the steep incline. He sat so tall in his saddle. She wondered what her brothers might look like when they were men of Lothair’s age. They all had Magnus’s sun-kissed auburn hair and dark blue eyes, except for her fourth brother, Aron, who had a softer blue, more like her grandmother’s. All of them would grow up too fast and set off into the world too soon, swinging swords, and no doubt charming silly girls.
A painful lump formed in her throat. She had to get back to Tronscar—she just had to. Her brothers still needed her. She had so much to teach them.
“Are you ill?” Lothair asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
***
“Nay. Apologies. I will keep up.” Katia attempted a smile to hide her melancholy from him. As of late, Lothair had learned how to read and understand her moods and expressions.
“We can stop if you need to rest,” Lothair said. They were riding along a treacherous, steep path. She had been in a daze most of the day. She was taking a risk they could not afford.
“No, I am well,” she said, and he knew she was lying to him. “Just . . . homesick.” She smiled apologetically. “I was just thinking of my brothers. This spring, the twins will be twelve. They are all growing so fast.”
He had learned that Katia tried to cover every unpleasant moment with a smile. He wondered who had taught her such an imprudent behavior.
“Your mother was expecting a child when I was last in Tronscar. What did she birth?”
“Another boy. My father apologized to me this time. He said that he had once demanded that God give him sons and now that was all he was destined to receive.” She shook her head. Rays of sunlight bounced off her silken hair, distracting him once again.
“What did they name him?”
“Divine Spear.” Her shoulders shook with giggles. “Ansgar for short. He just turned four and is my current favorite.”
He could not help but join in with her laughter. “I thought you weren’t allowed to have favorites when it comes to children. Sounds a little mean-spirited,” he teased her.
“I am absolutely allowed to have favorites. Parents must love their children equally, not sisters. You get what you give. Zander put a family of snakes in my bed last spring. Trust me, you are allowed to have favorites.” She raised her brows playfully, her spirits lifting.
“I only have placid sisters. I will have to take your word for it. Perhaps when my half brother is born, you will advise me.”
“Your mother is expecting?” Her voice rose with an excited pinch.
“No, my father’s new wife is expecting.”
“New wife? I did not know the duchess had passed. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be—she did not pass and she is not missed.” He’d done it again; slipped into telling her more than he should, more than he told anyone. He could not understand why his defenses were so weak with her. “My father bribed the Pope to absolve his union with the duchess. Of course, he waited until the most politically opportunistic moment,” he said, not bothering to hide the disdain in his tone. “The duchess’s father had finally died, so there was no longer anyone to argue against the annulment. The duchess was unable to provide my father with a heir. On top of that, she happened to be a miserable witch that blocked my father politically whenever she could. It’s in her blood, she is first cousins with Kaiser Rotbart, or as you may know him, Frederick Barbarossa. She was caught betraying my father’s secrets to him.. I expect it was her form of revenge for my father being a shameless adulterer.
“Anyway, my father was able to find a man to testify before the cardinal that she had had relations before and after her marriage to my father. I don’t think anyone cared if it was true or not, but it gave him a reason to have his wife replaced with some new young princess to breed his heirs and forge new, stronger political alliances.” He stared straight ahead.
“I am sorry,” she said solemnly.
“Don’t be. Everyone got exactly what they wanted in the end. The duke sent the duchess off wealthy and happy with her Romanian lover. He got a new eager wife. Everyone is happy.”
“But what about your mother?”
He snapped his head around, glaring at her. “What about her? My mother is as rehearsed to smile as falsely as you do, Katia. She is fine.” The look of hurt in her eyes ruined him. “I’m sorry—”
“No,” she said with a serious expression. “It was deserved. I . . . I am sorry you are being forced to return home because of me. I wish things could be different.�
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“If I had known Andrei was plotting against Sweden, we would have left. Besides, I must go home eventually.” He sent her a smile of consolation.
She nodded and looked back to the horizon. They were still at a high elevation and the outstretched dark green landscape seemed to go on forever. Lothair changed the subject.
“I remember the eldest twins, Hök and Stål,” he said. “Your current favorite is Divine Spear or Ansgar for short. Remind me of the others?” His tactic worked—her face softened.
“Aron is six—he still has a few years to learn how to truly be a devil—and Zander is short for lunatic or Aleksander. He is nine.”
“That is a lot of A names. Family tradition?”
“My mother has her way of getting what she wants, especially after cursing the house down with every birth. I swear she scares my poor father into submission every time.” She laughed and he could not help join in at the thought of the great powerful jarl bending beneath the will of his soft-spoken wife.
“So that is where you have learned it,” he said as they reached the bottom of the green valley.
“Learned what?”
“How to manipulate grown men with your softly spoken words and pretty smiles.”
“I have no idea what you are implying.” She blushed, fluttering her eyelashes in jest and leaving him blind to the four riders approaching at top speed from behind the tree line.
“Lothair!” She pointed and drew her sword.
Hooded bandits were descending upon them quickly, with weapons drawn. Katia charged the first approaching horseman before Lothair had time to react. He slashed the leads to free their extra horses and charged after her.
Shield held out to the side, Katia locked blades with the first rider, swords high in the air over their heads.
Lothair connected with the second, smaller rider and made quick work of dispatching his opponent with a slash to the gut and kick to the shoulder. He spun around to find Katia blocking a blow with her shield. She was bent near in half by the powerful force of the blow, yet was somehow able to slide off her horse and find her footing on solid ground.
The oldest of the four bandits had a long, gray beard and threadbare garments, and his horse was bone thin. Lothair would have normally just wounded the older man, but he did not have the luxury of being merciful. He had to get to Katia’s side. He pierced the bandit through the heart and commanded his horse toward Katia, who had chucked her shield and now had a sword in each hand, wielding them like a windmill.
She dropped down and with a swift, sure slash, knocked her opponent to the ground. As the man went down, she kicked his hand, sending his sword flying into the air.
Lothair yelled at her. “Get back on you horse—now!” He smashed the last bandit across the head with the hilt of his sword and the man crumbled to the ground.
She put her hands on her hips. Her swords were pointing out to the sides, nearly grazing him. “What were you thinking? We do not know these men. They could have been simply working for their overlords. They were clearly not trained soldiers. You did not need to kill him!” She pointed to the old man on the ground.
“I would not have had to kill him if you had not charged off and almost gotten yourself killed. Have you learned nothing?” He stood over her now, yelling down at her. She never even blinked, her eyes expressing her rage.
“What exactly was I to learn from this? How to be a barbaric, impulsive lout? Because that is what you are, Lothair.” Katia stomped off in the direction of her horse.
She rode hard and did not stop for over thirty miles.
Finally, they came to a shallow stream under a large bartek tree. The sun was slipping down behind the top of the forest, a dull gold hue enveloping the atmosphere. It would be a cold night, but it was much too dangerous to have a fire after what had just happened.
“We should ride a few extra hours tonight. Get as much distance as we can from this place,” he said, kneeling next to her, cupping the crisp, cool water from the stream in his hands. She nodded but did not look up at him. “So you are not going to speak to me now? I never took you for a sulker, Katia.”
“Sulker!” She snapped her head up and stood, pressing her lips tight together. He stared at her full, pouting mouth. He had an overwhelming desire to claim those lips and kiss the anger right off them. “Fine. Let us go.”
“We could rest longer.”
“No.” She pulled herself up onto her mount, sweeping her leg over the saddle in a simple move. She jerked the horse’s head and started heading off in the wrong direction.
“Katia!” He pointed west. It was good she was angry. Brodno was at least two days away and they needed to stay sharp. After they reunited with Lars and Tosha, the road to Prague would be faster but also more dangerous. Two men traveling with two beautiful females and a team of valuable horses would draw more attention than any one man would want.
***
As they approached the outskirts of Brodno, Katia’s heart began to sink. Her time alone with Lothair would soon be over and nothing had happened between them to bind her to his heart. In fact, she was certain their time alone together had made everything worse. Every day, she loved him more and he hated her more.
Sunlight reflected off the silver finial of the church steeple on the edge of town. The bright white exterior walls spoke to the wealth and prosperity of the large village. Houses with thickly thatched roofs lined the road, fat cattle lazed in the fields, and children were running about in loud noisy clusters, shouting greetings and offering apples for sale. The smell of freshly milled timber was in the air as they passed a group of men at work constructing what appeared to be a comfortably sized home. Brodno was the most prosperous village they had encountered on their journey so far. With the prosperity came a measured feeling of security, and law and order at work.
“Lars described an inn he had visited with his father in the past. We’ll try there first.” Lothair rode past Katia. They had said little more than two words to each other since they had been attacked. She nodded and tried to smile, but then remembered that her nervous smiles bothered him, so she just looked away instead. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had done to turn him so utterly against her. They’d fought over the bandits, yes, but it hadn’t been much worse than one of their usual spats.
The inn was empty of guests and clearly in need of paying customers. The hinges of the barn doors hung askew, looking as if one strong wind would take them clean off. Lothair offered the portly innkeeper half the profits from the sale of one of the warhorses in exchange for the entire top floor of the inn, while they awaited the arrival of their friends. The middle-aged innkeeper almost kissed Lothair but Lothair put his hand up in time to stop him and said that he and his wife were tired from their journey and would appreciate two bowls of stew, a bath, and to be left alone to rest above stairs.
Katia’s first night in her own chamber at the inn quickly turned into the longest, blandest, godforsaken week of her life. After the proceeds from the sale of the horse landed in the innkeeper’s hands, workmen appeared to make some repairs to the buildings. Lothair pitched in to help, yet scolded her that she must stay indoors, in her chamber or in the kitchen, saying it was for her safety, although she had begun to suspect it was more to do with Lothair not wanting to have her around.
By the end of the week, she was ready to run back to the hills. At least on the road they had slept and eaten in each other’s company. Here they hardly saw each other. Lothair ventured into the town with the workmen at the end of each day, staying out till all hours of the night. He avoided her as much as he could, sharing only small bits of information he had collected from Prague.
Her spirits had never felt so low. She had lost her short-lived friendship with Lothair and it was worse than being apart from him in years prior, because now she knew how it felt to have a real, if platonic, relationship w
ith him.
***
Two weeks and three days after they had arrived in Brodno, Tosha and Lars rode into the inn’s yards. Katia flung her arms around her beloved sister as soon as she dismounted and refused to let go. She hugged her friend until Tosha begged for mercy.
“I see Lothair keeps you well fed. You are as strong as ever, Kat.” Tosha grinned. “I have missed you.” Katia instantly knew she was lying.
“No you haven’t.” Katia shoved her shoulder. “What is going on?”
“Do not shove my betrothed, Katia. Jarl’s daughter or not, I will protect what is mine.”
Lars grabbed Tosha’s hips from behind and pulled her into his arms for a painfully long, wet kiss. When he finally let the poor girl breathe, she came up looking blissfully happy.
“Tosha, what is going on?” Her friend had lost all common sense on the road, it appeared.
“We are going to be wed!” Tosha shrieked with excitement and curled back into Lars’s arms. “Lars doesn’t want to wait until we reach Lubeck. We stopped at a church outside of town. The priest said to come back in a few hours.”
“What?” Katia and Lothair shouted at the same time.
Tosha threw her arms around Katia’s shoulders. “Isn’t this just the most glorious day of our lives? I must wash my hair. I want clean hair for my wedding.” She grabbed Katia’s hand and started to drag her toward the inn. “Which chamber is yours, Kat? We must hurry; you need to help me get ready.”
Chapter 10
