The Widow Is Mine
By
Ashe Barker
Chapter One
My feet pound the cold flagstones as I dash the length of the deserted great hall. The servants have already fled the palace, at least those who were able to discover a way out, past the besieging forces. Those less fortunate, or less quick off the mark, are milling in the bailey, confused, fearful, desperately seeking solace with loved ones. Such soldiery as remains in the castle linger on the battlements, or are preparing to surrender the besieged keep to the army now surrounding us. I have little time left.
Unseen in the shadows, secreted in the corner of the hall, I listened as my cousin Susanna conferred with Ulrich, the commander of our garrison. All is lost, this great castle is about to fall to the enemy. For all his youthful inexperience Ulrich knew it, Susanna too. And I see no cause to doubt that outcome either.
For the women of a conquered foe, surrender is a disaster. We will be seen as the spoils of war, our bodies, our lives at the mercy of a rampant, hungry, victorious army. Rape is a foregone conclusion, bloodshed and murder likely enough. The fate of children might be less precarious, but only marginally so. The little ones will be unprotected, afraid, and will likely witness atrocities that will scar them for the rest of their lives. I want to spare Sophia that. My dear, adored Sophia.
So I run. I run for my own life and for that of my stepdaughter. With the death of my husband just half a year ago, care of his orphaned daughter was wrested from my hands. Guardianship of the child transferred to the court of Hohenzollern, nominally to my second cousin, Princess Susanna. In truth, Lord Eberhard would have controlled Sophia’s fate, but mercifully one small three-year-old female who slipped into the palace nursery never attracted his notice.
Now, if I understood correctly what I overheard, Lord Eberhard is gone. He has disappeared. He fled to save his own hide. Susanna has ordered his execution and I doubt any will weep at his passing, though they have yet to run him to earth.
I would have loved to continue as Sophia’s mama, but as the penniless widow of the count of Chapelle, a childless third wife at that, I lacked any power or influence. I consider myself fortunate to have been invited to join the Hohenzollern court as one of Susanna’s ladies as this has meant I could remain close to Sophia. I see my stepdaughter daily, play with her, watch her grow. I had hoped our situation might remain thus throughout her childhood years, and later perhaps, when Sophia has no need of me, I could take the veil. I harbour no desire to marry again. Twice is enough.
But none of that will come to pass. Our world is upturned, our lives forfeit for the self-serving stupidity of Lord Eberhard.
Well, my life is lost, as will be that of Princess Susanna and the rest of the nobility here. But our conquerors will spare the children. Surely, they will not butcher innocent babies. If we are able to get the little ones to sanctuary, to the palace chapel perhaps, they might well be spared.
So I run for the stairs, charging up two flights to reach the nursery where seven frightened little faces await me. Their nurse is huddled in the corner with the two smallest ones; she at least has not deserted her post. Sophia rushes into my arms as I burst through the door.
“Mama, mama. Too much noise. Too loud.” She buries her face against my skirts and clings to the woollen fabric.
I crouch to comfort her, my heart twisting in anguish for the terror these little mites are experiencing. The screams from within the castle walls, the shouts of the army outside, the crash of rocks hurled from the enemy trebuchets breaching our outer defences. The din must be truly terrifying. And likely to get worse.
“Hush, sweetheart. You will be safe, I promise.”Please let it be so.“But we must leave here. We must hurry. Come with me now.” I stand and take her small hand in mine. “All of you, follow me. Quickly.”
“Where are we taking them, my lady?” The nurse stands, a baby in each arm.
“The chapel. We can seek sanctuary for the children there. Here, give me one of the babies. I’ll lead the way, you follow at the rear.”
The nurse—her name is Annis perhaps, though I am not certain—wastes no time in further discussion. In moments we have lined up our charges and the frightened children are filing between us as we scuttle along the empty hallways. The sounds of battle from outside are more muted as we pass through the bowels of the fortress, or maybe the fighting has ceased. If so, we only have minutes before the gates are splintered and the opposing forces overrun us. We emerge into the corner of the bailey and run the final few yards to the chapel entrance. I chance a glance sideways at the utter chaos surrounding us. The entire population of Hohenzollern must be gathered here, the scene one of panic and pandemonium. No one pays us any regard as Annis and I herd our small charges into the dark interior of the chapel. Islam the door shut and draw the bar across, then offer up a prayer that the commanders of the imperial army will show mercy to innocent children when the door is eventually breached.
“Where is Edmund?” One of the slightly older boys steps forward, his expression fearful.
Edmund?I gape at him.
“Edmund de Richy, son of the duke of Styria. He is fostered with us.” Annis explains, her tone matter of fact.
I applaud this servant’s calm in the face of such catastrophe. If we survive this ordeal I shall tell her so and do what I am able to seek her advancement.
“He was unwell and went to use the privy. My lady, if you would wait with the little ones, I will go and seek him.” She holds the baby in her arms out to me, clearly intending to return to the nursery.
“No. Annis—is it Annis?” At her quick nod I continue. “You remain with the children. I will go.”
Annis is young, no more than seventeen summers. She is pretty, and will offer a tempting sight to the imperial foot soldiers who are probably even now flooding our courtyard. I am but a couple of years older and I have no illusions about my own likely fate. I am a member of the royal household, however lowly my station within it, and I can see no cause for optimism regarding the outcome of this day. I will not survive it. There is no need though for Annis to take further risks with her life. She has proven herself to be a loyal and diligent servant and the children will be as safe with her as it is possible to be. If one of us must return to the castle, it should be me.
I bend to hug Sophia.
“I will return soon, sweetling. Be brave and do as Annis says while I am away. She will take care of you.” I kiss my adopted daughter’s beloved, tear-stained face, praying it will not be for the last time. But I whisper my sweet lies in the grim knowledge we will probably not see each other again in this life.
* * *
Back out in the bailey the scene remains one of sheer madness. Servants, guardsmen, peasants from the village who sought safety within the castle walls all now milling together, their desperation etched on their faces. I see many more children. These too could be, should be sheltered within the chapel. Alas, the task is beyond what I can accomplish alone. I grab the elbow of a woman, a capable-looking soul who is at least not beset by weeping. I urge her to collect as many youngsters as she is able and see them safe to the chapel. She seems to understand what I want her to do, and starts shepherding the children together.
