Chapter Nine
Konstantin groaned when the sun chased away the darkness of the tent. He might have slept well into the morning, given how taxing the last several days had been, but the wound in his side throbbed with a painful persistence. Miladin had bandaged it the night before, but that hadn’t banished the pain.
He opened his eyes and found both Grigorii and Miladin watching him.
“If I may, lord.” Miladin placed a hand on Konstantin’s forehead.
Konstantin frowned. “I’m not feverish. Just tired and grumpy because my side aches, my stomach is empty, and someone keeps trying to kill my betrothed.”
Grigorii cracked a smile. “I’ll go see about something for your stomach, lord.”
“Did anything important happen after I went to sleep?” Konstantin sat and rubbed his face. He didn’t usually have trouble waking in the morning, but he’d stood watch part of last night and much of the night before.
“Everyone is safe,” Miladin said. “If that’s what you mean. May I check your wound?”
Konstantin nodded.
Miladin tsked when he removed the wrap. “It looks worse this morning.”
“Letting you at it a little earlier last night wouldn’t have made any difference.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Miladin put another dressing on the wound.
“Suzana needed someone last night. I wanted it to be me.” He still wasn’t sure if he’d helped her or not, but the trembling had stopped while they’d sat by the fire. And she’d spoken with him. That had to be progress.
“Give it time.”
“The way things are going, I’m not sure we’ll have much of that.”
Miladin sobered. “We’ll be home by midday. Things will be better once we’re in Rivak.”
They had no guarantee that the arson and attempted murder would end, but at least they’d be in a familiar place, where they could notice anything out of the ordinary. They would have walls and a garrison and be surrounded by people just as desperate as they were to keep Rivak peaceful and secure.
Putting his armor on over his injury was uncomfortable, but the injury was also a reminder of how necessary his armor was. Had he not been wearing it last night, he might be dead. Maybe Suzana too. Risto helped him into his mail and corselet, and then Konstantin went to check on the preparations, eat and, with any luck, banish the ache in his head that threatened to turn into a pounding.
Porridge was the only offering, but at least it was warm. He’d overslept, but the others had made a good start of packing the camp and preparing for the day’s march. They started taking down his tent almost the moment he left it.
Risto brought Perun over, and Konstantin petted the animal while he checked the saddle and bridle. “Thank you, Risto. For this, and for everything last night.” He probably hadn’t slept much longer than Konstantin had, not with the need to find clean bedding for Suzana and clean up the blood and vomit.
“Happy to help, lord. Shall I see to anything else?”
“Just prepare for the day’s journey. I’m ready to go home.”
“As am I, lord.”
Konstantin hoped Suzana was ready too. Ready to make a new home. He led Perun to the pavilion to check on the women. Both Dama Isidora and Suzana were up and nearly finished with their meal, despite the attack of the night before. A long scab ran across the corner of Suzana’s jaw. He closed his eyes for a moment as the image of the man about to cut her throat flooded his mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could do that to an innocent woman. Orders or not, taking a woman from her bed and killing her was evil. Anyone could feel that.
“Good morning, Konstantin.” Dama Isidora’s voice held only a hint of the exhaustion she no doubt felt. Most of her hair was covered by a veil, but a dark red bruise showed at her forehead.
“A fair morning to both of you. Are you well?”
“Well enough to go home.” Dama Isidora waved him to the bench beside Suzana, and Konstantin obeyed. “Things ought to settle down once you and your betrothed are in Rivak.”
“That is my hope as well.” Konstantin turned to Suzana. Still no sign of eagerness to be with him but no sign of repulsion either. She did, however, wear the crucifix he’d given her. Her hand lay on the table, and he felt drawn to take it with his own, but he wasn’t sure how she would react. Maybe with time he’d know what she was comfortable with and which boundaries he needed to respect. “I thought perhaps when we reached the borders of Rivak, you might like to ride with me. You are welcome to stay in the carriage if you prefer, but you’ll see the land better from horseback.”
The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly. Almost a smile. “I would like that. Thank you.”
“And until then, what can I do to ease your journey?”
“I am well at present, thank you.” She looked down for a moment, then glanced up, almost shyly. “I did wonder if you perhaps would like to keep my cross for me, as you have given me yours.” She pulled out a petite cross of gold and offered it to him.
Her hand brushed his as she placed the crucifix in his palm, and her touch sparked a powerful sensation of pleasure. It surprised him to the core, and several long heartbeats passed before he swallowed and found his voice. “Thank you. I will keep it close to my heart.” He looped the cord around his neck and slipped the pendant under his tunic.
The rest of the morning progressed normally enough. The roads were dry, the horses obedient, and hope—or maybe it was love—made Konstantin’s worries seem lighter whenever he thought of Suzana. Perhaps what he felt for her was only a drop, but that was a start.
When they approached the first of Rivak’s villages, Konstantin helped Suzana onto a gentle gelding and rode beside her, pointing out the different crops and explaining the customs of the merophs. He couldn’t judge by her expression whether she found the information interesting or dull, but she paid attention to everything he said.
The weather grew more and more contrary to his mood. Dark clouds blew in, and before Rivakgrad came into view, the first raindrops pattered onto his skin. Soon after, the clouds burst. “I should get you back in the carriage before you’re soaked.” But when he led her back and helped her from the saddle, he realized he was too late. Rain had already soaked her dalmatica, and he didn’t have anything dry to give her. That was one more thing he’d failed at.
The rain slowed as they reached the fork in the road that meant it was time to part company with Dragomir.
“Would you like to come to the grody until the weather improves?” Konstantin asked.
“I’d rather return home. I was glad to come, glad to help you, but my wife will need rest after what’s happened, even if she’s not ready to admit it yet.” He pulled his cloak to better block the rain. “Perhaps I need the rest too. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry so many of our plans went awry.”
Dragomir grasped Konstantin’s wrist. “I will always be Rivak’s friend. And your friend. I expect we’ll see each other soon. At the wedding, if not before.”
The carriage would continue on to Dragomir’s župa, so Konstantin had Suzana’s horse brought forward once again. Risto even managed to find a dry cloak, but since she was already wet from the earlier ride in the rain, Konstantin didn’t know if it would keep her warm.
Her hands felt cold when he helped her from the carriage.
“I’m sorry I let you get all wet,” he said.
“The rain came suddenly.”
It had, but he’d also been hesitant to part with her. He had the feeling that she wouldn’t complain about the wet or the cold, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t suffer.
Konstantin motioned Miladin over. “Will you ride ahead and let the grody know we’re coming? Tell them to have a warm bath and a large fire ready for Suzana. I don’t know if Aunt Zorica will let you leave until after you’ve filled her in on all that happened, but maybe you can get home to your wife and niece a bit sooner.”
“With pleasure, lord.” Miladin cut through a field to get around their column, then returned to the road and set his horse to a trot.
Konstantin turned his attention to Suzana. He couldn’t see more than her chin because the hood of her cloak was pulled so far forward. “If you look closely, you can see Rivakgrad.” He pointed, and her hooded head turned in the proper direction. As they drew closer, he tried to picture how it must look to someone who had never yet seen it. To him, it was home, but as they passed through the lower grad, he couldn’t help but notice how dreary it looked in the rain. Few of the craftsmen, merophs, or their families were in view, and the main road had turned into a muddy quagmire. When they rode up the causeway and reached the grody, the courtyard was even worse, coating the horses’ legs and building up on the wheels of the carts.
He guided his horse closer to Suzana’s. “It looks more cheerful in the sunlight. And it’s usually not so muddy.” But it never looked as prosperous and clean as the villa she had left.
Danilo ran down the keep’s stairs and sprinted through the mud toward him. The boys’ dog followed. “Kostya! You’re back!”
Konstantin dismounted in time to receive an exuberant embrace from his cousin. He looked over Danilo’s head, expecting Ivan to run at him next. Aunt Zorica tried to keep Ivan inside when it rained, but he usually managed to escape despite her efforts.
Perhaps Danilo noticed Konstantin’s gaze. “Ivan has a fever again.”
Konstantin looked down and read the worry in his cousin’s eyes. “How bad?”
Danilo shrugged. “He’s been in bed for two days. But this morning, he laughed when I told him a story. I think that means he’s on the mend.”
It at least meant he wasn’t delirious. Ivan had come close to death so many times and then pulled through that it was sometimes easy to assume he’d pull through again and again. But death circled Ivan like a wolf circled a lone lamb. One day, it might strike and carry him off.
Ivan’s illness explained why Aunt Zorica stood at the top of the keep steps, sheltered from the rain, but Lidija did not. She was no doubt with their brother.
“Danilo, could you hold Perun for me?” Konstantin asked.
Danilo took the reins with a grin. Konstantin wouldn’t have handed his destrier over to a boy of Danilo’s age, but his palfrey had not only a gentle stride but also a gentle manner when it came to children. He led Suzana’s gelding to the bottom of the steps. His boots were coated in thick, congealing mud, but by helping her dismount at the base of the keep, he could shield her skirts from most of the grime. He felt a tremor in her hand when she accepted his offered arm, so he leaned forward enough to see her face beneath the cloak. She shivered.
Konstantin led her up the stairs at a brisk pace. It wouldn’t do for Suzana to survive two attempts on her life only to die of exposure. “Suzana, will you allow me to place you in my aunt’s care? She can ensure you’re warm enough while I see to the horses and the men.”
“Do you not need help with your duties?” she asked.
“I’ll have help. For now, I just want you to be warm and comfortable and not shivering in the rain.”
Aunt Zorica met them near the top. “You must be Dama Suzana.” She reached for Suzana’s hand and took it in her own. “Goodness. Konstantin, she is freezing. I hope you haven’t neglected her comfort the entire journey.”
“I can tell you all about the journey later,” Konstantin said. “For now, will you see that she’s taken somewhere warm?”
The look in Aunt Zorica’s eyes warned him that he’d get an earful later, but he’d deal with his aunt’s disappointment then. Maybe he deserved it for failing to keep Suzana out of the rain, but keeping her alive over the last several days had taken nearly all his skill.
“I’m sure I will be well enough if I can sit by the fire for a bit.” Suzana’s voice still sounded shy, but Aunt Zorica would put her at ease soon enough.
He watched the two women enter the hall, then went back to Danilo and Perun. He lifted Danilo into the saddle and led them to the stables. Others unpacked the carts and cared for the rest of the animals.
“Danilo, have you seen Kuzman recently?” Konstantin reached up to help his cousin dismount, getting a smear of mud across his chest in the process.
“I trained with him this morning, before it started raining. He says I’m improving. Ivan, too, when he’s well enough to train. Will you watch us tomorrow?”
“If I can slip away from everything else. Will you find him for me?”
Danilo nodded and ran off.
Konstantin removed Perun’s saddle and began brushing him, but he let one of the grooms take over before he finished. Konstantin glanced at Svarog’s box, but visiting his warhorse just then would be self-indulgent. He had an ill brother and a threatened betrothed who took precedence.
As soon as Kuzman came into the stables with Danilo, Konstantin walked over to them. “Thank you, Danilo. Now, will you check on Ivan for me? Tell him I’ll visit soon, but don’t wake him if he’s asleep.”
“I won’t.” Danilo’s mischievous grin said otherwise, but if Lidija was with Ivan, she’d protect his sleep.
Kuzman watched the boy run off. “I would normally be surprised that you haven’t gone to your brother already, but I heard rumors from some of the men.”
“The rumors are true if they involve tales of someone trying to murder my betrothed two days in a row. I want the grad’s security tightened. Extra watchmen, more strictness at the gates. Will you help me plan it?”