“You, man, what is this? Why are you congregating here?” I tap the soldier closest to me on his shoulder, a gesture that causes him to temporarily divert his concentration from the struggling servant girl in his clutches. She succeeds in landing a well-aimed or perhaps merely lucky foot in his private parts, and he crumples with an anguished groan. Moments later the girl is haring across the bailey.
I’m not sure my response is entirely one of remorse as I bend to aid the man to his feet. He appears less than grateful for my assistance.
“What did you do that for? I ‘ad ‘er. Fine wench too. Shit! Where did she go?”
“Over there, I think.” I indicate a direction opposite to that taken by the fleeing girl. “Now, answer me, man. What’s this crowd doing here? Don’t you have better things to attend to?”
“It’s the priest, my lord. He’s doing the marrying at the gates.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Gerhard of Bavaria said all the women who were taken from ‘ere ‘ad to go as wives, so the priest is doing the weddings at the castle gate. There’s a queue, my lord. An’ I was in it. If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I think I’ll be needing to round up my bride again.”
He’s not wrong, so I nod and step back to allow the eager bridegroom passage. He mumbles his thanks as he makes his unsteady way across the courtyard. I silently wish his reluctant bride luck as I ponder the dilemma now facing me. I have no wish to create my new duchess in a botched ceremony on a battlefield, but at the same time it would undermine Gerhard’s command if I were to ignore his dictate.
I reach for Lady Natalia’s hand and edge the pair of us around the milling crowd in the direction of the drawbridge. As we draw close I can see the priest standing on a mounting block, speaking the necessary words over couple after couple as they pass before him. The ceremonies are brief to the point of almost non-existent, reinforcing my concern that such unions may not be universally recognised. Still, it’s the best that can be achieved in thecircumstances, and my responsibility is to uphold the practice.
I tug Natalia along until we are standing before the priest. He barely looks at us as he mumbles the words, and makes no attempt at all to elicit my lady’s consent. This is probably a wise precaution, given her present aversion to the matrimonial state, but in the longer term will not suffice. I resolve to secure the services of a priest at the earliest opportunity, and one not acting under duress. Mercifully my bride makes no argument as the words are recited, and I hustle her away as soon as the ceremony is concluded.
My tent is at the far end of our encampment, close to that of Gerhard and the other commanders. It offers few luxuries, but will afford a degree of privacy. And safety.
As we draw near I spot the hulking figure of Karl, who serves me in an undefined capacity. A member of my personal guard, his duties span those of companion, bodyguard, manservant, and squire. Born of peasant stock, he would not ordinarily hold such a position in my household, but as Karl’s services, and his friendship, have become invaluable to me, I allow his status to remain ambiguous. He seems similarly content with his situation.
Karl is crouching before the entrance to my battle tent polishing my helmet. I chose not to wear it to enter the castle, a deliberate display of confidence to reaffirm to the conquered people of Hohenzollern that further resistance will be futile. He straightens, regarding my diminutive companion with a mixture of suspicion and sympathy.
Karl is a hardened warrior. He carried me from a battlefield in Lombardy some ten years ago now. He was just a common foot soldier then, but I rewarded his aid with a position in my personal guard. Since that day he has been at my side during more battles than I care to recall, and is no stranger to the brutality of warfare. He is a ruthless killer when such is required, a fact I have had cause to appreciate on a number of occasions. But he is not cruel, not a vindictive man, and always merciful in victory. He looks from me to my lady’s battered face, one eyebrow arched in disapproval.
“Not my doing.” I have no notion why I feel inclined to account for myself to Karl, but it is a habit I find difficult to shed. I growl my denial as I gesture Lady Natalia to precede me into the tent.
“Right then.” Karl follows us inside, hovering by the drawn back entrance flap. “So, are we taking prisoners now, my lord?”
There are occasions when I reconsider the wisdom of permitting Karl such free rein with his opinions, though on balance our arrangement works. I opt for making introductions.
“Karl, may I introduce Lady Natalia de Chapelle, widow of the late count de Chapelle, and the next duchess of Richtenholst.”
That expressive eyebrow lifts again, but Karl refrains from making any comment. He will no doubt be stunned at the mention of a new duchess, and he cannot but be aware of the circumstances of my brother’s death. Insteadhe turns to Natalia and bows from the waist. “My lady, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. Would you like to sit down, perhaps? Could we offer you a drink, or some sustenance maybe?”
My bride-to-be opens her mouth to respond but I forestall her. “Natalia, this is Karl, my—servant. He will take care of you while I am away.”
She makes no response, merely chews on her lower lip. I accept that most people find Karl an intimidating individual at the first encounter, further reassurance will not go amiss. “You will be perfectly safe with him, my lady.”
I hope she is convinced, though her countenance suggests otherwise. Still, I have pressing business to see to back in the Hohenzollern keep. Karl’s actions will doubtless speak louder than any words of mine right now, and I have every confidence in him. I turn my attention to my manservant. “Thank you, Karl. I know I can rely on you to see to my lady’s comfort. I have matters still requiring my urgent attention within the castle, and I must consult with Gerhard too regarding the transport of prisoners.”
I regard the small, cloaked woman standing in the middle of my tent and I cannot help but observe her nervous hand-wringing. “I must leave you for a while, my lady, but Karl will see to your needs.”
“Yes, of course, I… Wait, my lord. You said you would be meeting with Gerhard. Is he the commander of the imperial forces? The man who came to Hohenzollern all those months ago?”
“He is. Do you know him, my lady?”
She shakes her head. “No, but when I was at court, he came to Hohenzollern and, and—threatened to return. Then I saw him talking to my cousin earlier today. I was watching from the battlements when Susanna surrendered the castle.”
“I see.” In truth, I do not entirely understand this interest in the fortunes of the princess whose dereliction of her duty brought the castle to ruin. I have the impression Lady Natalia has more to say however. I wait.
“What will happen? To Princess Susanna?”
“She will be taken to Vienna, to the court of the holy Roman emperor. There she will stand trial.”
“Trial? But why? She has committed no crime.”
