* * *
There was a stillness after the white flag was raised, and everyone was tense and restless, waiting for what would happen next. The surrender had brought hoots of merriment from his army, but he and the men close about him were more experienced, and all knew that a white flag was only the beginning of a surrender.
Gerhard kept glancing expectantly at the battered gate of the great keep, wondering who the princess would send out to treat with them. It had to be a high-ranking official, and Gerhard hoped that she wasn’t silly enough to send out Eberhard—that is, if that oaf had the balls needed to come out and face him. He was probably somewhere in the castle, stuffing his pockets with whatever of value he could find.
There was a great stretching in the air and many expectant grunts from the men about him. He whipped his head toward the gate and saw that it was slowly opening. A white-cloaked figure was approaching the gate, a stark contrast against the blood-soaked snow and grime of war all around. Slowly it dawned on him that he was looking at a porcelain-skinned woman who had her head held high as she slowly walked through the mass of men now hemming her in on all sides.
Then Gerhard realized who it was, and he felt like someone had just thrown ice water over his head.
This was no lady-in-waiting or minor noblewoman sent to beg for favorable terms of surrender, although it should have been. He would have never guessed that the princess would come out herself.
The men milled about yet made a clear path between himself and the princess as she approached, and upon reaching him she did not wait for him to speak first. “I am Princess Susanna of Hohenzollern,” she told him with a clear, smooth voice. “I’ve come to beg mercy for the suffering of my people.”
He could hear the fear in her voice, but just barely. He had not expected this. He had expected her to bargain, not to beg. Nonetheless, he had to act quickly, before the crowd of soldiers got it in their heads to exact their own justice upon her person. They were a rough bunch, and he didn’t want to have to do any more killing today. He could tell by the way some of them growled that he needed to claim a quick hold on this situation.
“Mercy?” he replied loudly so that his men could hear him. “What mercy did your knights show to those whose farms they pillaged and whose daughters they ravished, as you did nothing to stop them?” His orders were to bring her alive to Vienna to face the imperial court, but if he wanted to keep these men—many of them recruited from the very villages her knights had ransacked—from trying to kill her here and now, he needed to let them know he shared their anger.
He expected a defense of her actions, or perhaps even pleas for his mercy, but her response stunned him. “I do not beg mercy for myself, but for my people. I stand before you prepared to accept whatever justice you see fit, if only you will spare the innocent women and children of this castle, and the men who fought bravely to defend it.”
Gerhard paused, considering. This rabble of an army the nobles of the Free Cities had cobbled together was going to sack this castle, take everything that they could carry, and probably try to burn the rest, that much was certain, and he would be hard pressed to keep them from having their way with any woman they could lay hands on. Men like these thought women to be little more than the spoils of war.
The princess looked at him through glistening eyes, but no tears spilled down her cheeks. Still, his heart began to clench and a part deep inside him demanded that he acquiesce. When he spoke at last, he spoke loudly again sothat everyone could hear him.
“I am Gerhard of Bavaria, and you have my word that the lives of your people will be spared. If women are taken from this castle, they will be taken as wives, and they will be treated well by the men who take them.” He paused again, before speaking directly to his army. “You may take whatever plunder you can find, but if any man among you commits rape or murder, I will have him hanged!”
The relief on the face of the princess filled Gerhard with a strange joy, though he knew his next words would bring the fear back to those beautiful eyes. He had to deliver the emperor’s message, something he had been dreading since he’d first caught sight of her eight months before. “As for you, princess, you will be brought to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor in Vienna, where you will stand trial for your life.”
* * *
Susanna was accustomed to the feeling of fear. For the past several years she had wondered each morning if Eberhard would choose that day to put an end to her by some nefarious means, thus removing the only remaining obstacle to his absolute rule over Hohenzollern. How she’d lived one-and-twenty years without being poisoned was beyond her, and in a way she had grown used to thinking of herself as living on borrowed time.
It wasn’t the decree itself that rattled her. She had expected that much since she looked out her windows over a week ago and saw the army marching toward the castle. What made her bones feel like they were about to crumble was the hard-jawed gaze of the army’s commander, the same man who had warned her that this would happen all those months ago. He was impossible not to recognize with his dark brown eyes, the color of wet soil, and the untrimmed chestnut curls which fell over his eyes.
She was going to beg to see her little sister and to say goodbye to her cousins… but now she thought better of it. She had asked enough favors from this enemy, and she was fortunate to have been granted as much as she had, because he did not look like he was in good humor.
A soldier reached to touch her from behind, but even as she turned to jerk herself away, the commander—who was apparently known as Gerhard—stepped forward and cuffed the man across the cheek so hard that she heard a loud, meaty crunch. With a sharp intake of breath, she spun and watched the two face off.
“Touch her, and die,” she heard Gerhard state coldly. “Anyone touches her, and they will answer to me,” he decreed. “She will be brought to justice in safety. She is property of the Holy Roman Empire now!”
She frowned at this and tried to keep her chin raised. Property of the Holy Roman Empire. What a phrase with which to end her rule. She took a deepbreath, trying to gain courage, trying not to think about the days ahead, or about her kin who were still in the castle. She would have given anything just to look up at her home one last time, to see the people who were left watching her from the ramparts… but she knew she couldn’t. She had to stay strong. She had to remain proud and royal.
“Rennio!” the commander suddenly boomed, turning behind him, looking past what seemed to be his personal guard. “Where is Bishop Rennio?”
“He’s drinking,” the man replied, rolling his eyes. “Already.”
The commander grunted his disdain and then turned to a young boy and ordered that Rennio be found and brought to him. As the boy hopped off, the commander turned back to Susanna and stepped toward her. He put his hand around her forearm and tugged her close to him. “I will not harm you as long as you do not attempt to escape,” he said in a tone which almost seemed gentle.
She blinked at him. “Where would I go?” she asked defensively.
“Just don’t try anything. You’ll be guarded, and the men outside are not gentlemen. They’re not loyal. They’re not your subjects. Do I need to frighten you with details of what might happen, or are you going to be a good girl and stay where I put you?”
She pressed her lips together in anger. If she were an empress of ancient Rome, she would have thrown this man to the lions. “I will stay wherever I am led, my lord. You have no need to worry on that account.”
A drunken, cloaked man stumbled out of the rabble just as Gerhard’s lip actually curled up slightly into a smile. She was lucky for the distraction, because that small grin Gerhard had failed to hold back made her want to slap it off of his face, and she couldn’t. He still had the power to take back the mercy she had come out to beg him for.
She turned, and since she’d heard the ‘bishop’ before his name, she had expected Rennio to look something like a priest or even a monk. Instead, this man had long, not-particularly-clean-looking hair, a messy beard, and a bright nose. He was probably in his early thirties but had the bearing of a much older man. He looked like he was barely holding down his drink.
Gerhard turned from her and put his arm around Rennio, who immediately soured at whatever Gerhard was saying into his ear. Just as Rennio appeared about to complain, Gerhard grasped his shoulder hard and continued speaking to him so quietly that she could barely make out even the smallest word.
