Chapter Text
October 31, 1403
Henry’s heart held two irreconcilable truths.
As the road before him took a turn and the mostly leafless trees grew sparser, his eyes found a familiar hill on the horizon. On its crest stood the strong stone walls of Rattay, with the tall tower of Pirkstein dutifully overlooking the town and surrounding lands. Yellow-and-black banners of House Leipa waved in the autumn wind as if to greet the travelers like old friends. White columns of smoke promised fire-warm safety and comfort. The smell of rotting leaves and mossy earth mixed with the fragrant scent of burning wood. Still made him think of charred ruins, but here, it simply meant the peaceful presence of hearth fires.
This was home, beautiful and familiar. Henry had missed Rattay more than he had admitted to himself.
He also wished never to have seen it again.
On his left, the river Zivy rushed through its rocky bed, gurgling and foaming around cattle-sized boulders. Mutt kept to Henry’s other side, as far away from the water as possible; he preferred sniffing around in the soft grass, still green but already losing its vividness. The grey of winter wasn’t far away.
Henry turned around in the saddle as he realized the hoofbeats behind him had fallen silent. A few paces down the road, Hans had stopped his horse. The young lord was worryingly pale – even more so than he had been for the entire journey from the Devil’s Den. Never before had Henry witnessed him ride so slowly, and what usually would have been a day’s travel had taken them double that time.
“I can’t do it,” Hans declared when Henry looked at him.
This was your decision, though. You chose to return here.
Henry had to bite his tongue to avoid saying these words out loud. No use in being hurtful. Instead, he turned Pebbles around and closed in on his distressed lord, who stared at the town with wide eyes.
“Come on. We’re almost there.” Henry smiled encouragingly. He didn’t feel like it, but consoling Hans mattered far more than surrendering to his own misery.
“I changed my mind.”
Jesus Christ. Don’t do this to me now. It’s already difficult enough.
But that was unfair. Henry knew exactly how torturous it had been for the noble to refuse a shared life in another land, with different rules and more freedom, for the price of leaving everything behind: worldly possessions, titles, heritage, family. Impossible to hold against Hans that he had chosen Rattay in the end. The only right option. The sensible one, leading to a marriage that would save Hans’ soul. This was good. It didn’t hurt.
Henry didn’t allow it to hurt.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said. “Remember what you told me? World’s not ending.”
With a wheeze instead of a reply, Hans shook his head. His breaths came too fast, and his eyes had that wide, unfocused look – the one he always got before panicking. His horse picked up on its rider’s distress and pinned its ears back.
Henry gave Pebbles a soft nudge with his heels; the ever-calm mare stepped forward, huffing air out of her nostrils.
“Easy, Velox. Good boy. You’re fine.” Henry grabbed the reins of the other horse, just to be sure, then focused his attention back on Hans. “You’re fine, too. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I promise.”
“You’re with me, right?” Hans whispered.
“Of course.” An assurance Henry had given him so often in the last few weeks that he had lost count.
The noble reached out to cup his cheek with a gloved hand. Henry read his intent the moment Hans leaned forward to kiss him. There was nothing Henry yearned for more, but he had to pull back and dodge it.
“Not here.” He nodded toward the other side of the river, where some windswept huts stood.
As far as he remembered, they belonged to woodcutters and charcoal burners. They would be working in the forest at this time of day, but their wives and children could be home, watching the road with curious and sharp eyes.
Hans’ face clearly showed how much the rejection stung, but he accepted it without complaint.
Henry gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go. It looks like rain, and Mutt is getting tired. In an hour, we’ll sit in some warm room in Pirkstein. You must be freezing.”
“I’m not,” Hans mumbled. “I would prefer to stay out here.”
But he followed as Henry turned Pebbles back around. Both men rode next to each other in silence for a while, lost in their thoughts, until Henry felt too bad about Hans' mood to keep quiet any longer.
I should cheer him up somehow.
“There has to be something you’re looking forward to upon our return,” he said.
Hans scoffed bitterly. “I can’t think of anything. Well… maybe the food. Janosh is a great cook, but there’s only so much he could do with the Den’s kitchen and the scraps Zizka always bought.” He turned his head toward Henry. “What about you? Any joyful prospects?”
“Seeing some people again, I guess. My old friends from Skalitz. Matthew, Fritz, Matthias, Johanka. Theresa, most of all.”
“Hmmm.” Upon hearing the last name, Hans twisted his mouth in a way that meant he didn’t like what he had just heard.
“What? I haven’t seen her in months! She’ll be worried sick. And she certainly misses Mutt,” Henry said.
“You know what people will think if you continue to visit her, right? An unmarried young woman.”
“That doesn’t matter at all as long as I, she, and you know it’s not like that,” Henry said. “Might even be good if people think I’m after a woman.”
“Have you ever been after her?”
“Theresa?” Henry almost laughed out loud, but the open distress on Hans’ face made him hold back. The noble was earnestly concerned about this. Best not to mock him in this state.
“No,” Henry said. “Of course I noticed she was pretty when I was younger, but that’s it. We’re friends. Always have been. Not to mention that I owe her my life. I would have died at Skalitz if it hadn’t been for her and Sir Robard.”
“Sure, but men and women aren’t friends,” Hans grumbled.
“You’re friends with Katherine.”
“That’s different.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “How so?”
“It just is! There would never be anything between us. We're like family.”
“Same with me and Theresa. I think she sees me as a little brother. Especially after she lost hers in the raid. Hans, what’s this about anyway? You know I never was with her.”
“Do I? I don’t know all you’ve done before… well, before,” Hans said, keeping his gaze straight on the road ahead.
“Do you want a list of all the people I’ve been with? Would be a very short one. You’ve been around much more than I have.”
Shit, that sounded meaner than I wanted.
He was almost sure Hans wouldn’t reply to that last bit, as the noble wordlessly chewed on his lip for a minute. Just as Henry took a deep breath to apologize, Hans decided to speak again.
“But none of that meant much to me. Not like you do. Not at all. I was bored, and it felt nice to be wanted.”
“I know. I think it was the same for me when I was with women before. Only I didn’t understand it at the time. No reason to defend yourself. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Sorry that I said it like that.”
“Already forgiven. It’s just…” Hans made a vague gesture, and Henry understood what he meant.
It’s just everything weighing on us right now.
About half an hour later, they encountered a group of men walking toward Rattay, dragging a heavy cart behind them, loaded with white cabbages, reddish turnips, and fist-sized onions. Food for the city, probably in preparation for tomorrow’s All Saints’ Day feast.
One of the men hissed something to the others as Henry and Hans rode by, and all of them stopped to take off their hats with a hastily muttered “My lords.”
“God bless you,” Henry said, while Hans didn’t even look at them.
He’s really not doing well. I hope he feels better once we are behind the walls.
Henry’s own mood lightened a bit once he saw thick steam rising. A gust of wind brought the scent of soap, herbs, and fresh laundry to his nose as they came across the bathhouse just outside the western town gate. Maybe he would visit soon, drown a few of his grievances in hot water and malty ale.
But for now, he steered Pebbles to the path that led up the hill, toward the town entrance.
“Wait,” Hans said. “I have to go first. Remember not to ride or walk by my side. Always a bit behind me.”
“Oh. Right.” That habit would be hard to break after having ignored such customs for months.
“And you must call me ‘Sir’ when people can hear us.”
“I know.”
“Knowing is not enough. You need to actually do it, or people will start to wonder about your behavior.”
“Yes. I mean, yes, Sir.” Oh, that felt strange.
“Christ, have mercy,” Hans mumbled. “Let’s get it over with.”
Three soldiers in chainmail and yellow waffenrocks, adorned with the same crossed black branches that Hans was wearing on his chest, stood guard. From the way they lazily held their polearms, Henry could tell it had been a quiet day for them so far. They did a good job getting into an unthreatening yet watchful position as soon as they saw the two riders, though. One of them called out to the newcomers.
“A good afternoon to– oh! My lord!” He hastily bowed.
“Yes, what a wonderful day we are having.” Hans didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm. “Is my uncle in town?”
“I believe he is, my lord.”
“Great.”
“Do you wish for me to announce your arrival? I could signal for the bells to be rung.” The man reached for the carved ox horn on his belt.
“No.”
“Are you sure, my lord? It would be appropriate to let people know about your safe return, praise be to the Almighty.”
“They will notice soon enough without the fanfare.”
“As you wish,” the guard said, clearly disappointed that he wouldn’t get to blow the horn. Probably would have been the most exciting moment of his entire week.
Henry saw Hans’ shoulders stiffen as they rode through the town entrance. Crossing that threshold felt strangely final. Had to be even worse for the noble.
The first thing Henry noticed was how much smaller the camp of the refugees from Skalitz had become. Only four or five small tents – made from brushwood and cheap fabric sheets – were still standing in the dry moat under Pirkstein’s bridge. Hopefully, this meant most people had found homes in Rattay or the nearby villages. Henry recognized some faces, mostly folks who already had their troubles when Skalitz still stood. He smiled at them because they surely didn’t get to feel much friendliness, but whenever they met his eyes, they quickly dropped their gaze.
They don’t know who I am, he realized. Might be the beard. And the fact that I’m sitting high on a horse, wearing armor and a sword. Certainly don’t look like a blacksmith’s son anymore.
He followed Hans across the bridge; the old wood clonked beneath the horses’ hooves. Henry looked down to see all the familiar gaps and cracks in the planks that he had walked or ridden over a hundred times.
Hans stopped right after the castle gate, his arrival sending the people in the small courtyard into a sudden hurry. For a moment, Mutt froze, then he ran off to sniff every corner and see if someone would spare him a treat. A servant came to take Velox’ reins as the noble dismounted, and another young man walked over to Pebbles.
“Would the sir like his steed to be taken care of?”
The sir. While climbing out of the saddle, Henry wondered whether he should start correcting people on that – he was neither noble nor knight, so he had no right to claim honorifics or titles. But for the moment, he felt too tired to explain the matter.
“Yes, thank you,” he said instead.
“I am sorry, sir, but there is only one free stall left at the moment, and I suppose that will be claimed by Lord Capon. But I can bring the sir’s mare to the Upper Castle. It’s on the opposite end of town.”
“I know. I’m from here.” Henry even knew the face of the man, though he didn’t recall his name. The servant glanced from his face to Pebbles’ grey flank and back, as if he was searching his memory. Just as his eyes widened in recognition and confusion, Hans waved Henry over.
“We should get a few things in order before meeting with Hanush. Did you keep any important possessions in that shed you used to sleep in? If so, tell the servants to bring them–”
Hans froze mid-sentence as a booming voice resounded through the courtyard.
“There he is!”
The mighty shape of Sir Hanush of Leipa waltzed down the stairs of Pirkstein into the courtyard. He hadn’t changed at all in the past months, still the picture of a veteran knight living in comfort: his fine blue and golden robe hung open, revealing golden neck chains and a silken shirt underneath that stretched over an impressive, round belly. His dark beard, sprinkled with the odd silver hair, moved as he grinned.
“Ha! Look at that. Welcome home, nephew. You actually managed to drag him back, Henry. Well done. Did he kick and scream about how he doesn’t want to get married?”
Henry hid the flash of protective anger behind a quick bow, memories of seeing Hans suffer for weeks overtaking his mind. If Hanush only knew how cruel his careless words truly were – not that he would necessarily care.
If he knew, he’d nail my ears to the front gate. And other body parts, too.
“For fuck’s sake,” Hans muttered. He seemed to shrink as he always did in the commanding presence of his guardian.
“What was that?” Hanush asked, stopping at arm’s length, his shovel-like hands on his hips.
“I’m tired from the journey, uncle. Can you spare me the–”
“What the fuck happened to your face?” Hanush asked, now with honest concern in his voice.
Hans raised a gloved hand to his cheek, as if trying to hide the cut. It had healed well, thanks to Musa’s wondrous work, but the scar was still bright pink and anything but subtle. Burning acid rose in Henry’s throat as he thought about the monster who had carved it into the noble’s face. It still needed to die screaming for that.
“It’s nothing,” Hans said.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“There was some trouble with bandits. I sent you a letter about Hagen Zoul, remember?”
Hanush grunted. “Of course I remember. I had to pay those miserable remains of a noble family two hundred groschen to ensure there wouldn’t be any retribution. Did he do that to you?”
“No. Istvan’s right hand was there.”
“That Erik?” Hanush frowned. “We should have chopped his head off at Talmberg.”
“Yes, that one. There are things concerning him we should discuss. He–”
“I hope he’s not around anymore after doing that to your face? How did he get to you, anyway?”
“He jumped me. I’ll tell you the entire story later.” Hans crossed his arms.
“Hm. I’ll speak with Zizka about that. He was supposed to keep you out of trouble, not let you fight robber knights and bandits while getting yourself sliced open.”
“Sir Hanush, it was my fault–” Henry began, desperate to defend Hans, but the young noble shushed him with a stern gesture.
“Can we stop talking about my face?” Hans growled. “There are more important things.”
“Well, luckily, you’re not getting married for your pretty looks, but for far more sensible reasons. Come on inside. I’ll tell you how the wedding will go. We were busy preparing everything while you were frolicking around in that tavern, undoubtedly pestering every maiden in the area. I hope you were careful about that, at least. Any chance of some bath wench with a swollen belly knocking on my door?”
“Uncle!” Hans looked more and more like a kicked dog with every second that passed.
Hanush laughed jovially. “Ah, let me joke a little, Hans. You will need to grow a thicker skin if you want to survive a nagging wife.”
It was torture to stand around, having to silently listen to Hanush’s words while watching Hans’ composure crumble. Everything in Henry screamed to grab his beloved and take him away, far away…
But that was forever impossible now.
All he could do was clench his fists and hope that his expression didn’t reveal how much he yearned to punch the Lord of Leipa in the face.
Hanush seemed to pick up on at least some of the tension because he smiled more warmly and put a hand on Hans’ shoulder. “It’s good to see you back home. Come, I have a few things planned for the wedding celebration that will cheer you up.”
“Wait,” Hans said, straightening up. “Before we talk about that, there’s something I need to inform you about.” His eyes darted over to Henry, then fixated back on his uncle. “I have taken Henry into my service as my squire.”
“You have what?” Hanush frowned until his thick brows almost met.
“That is my right as a knight. And it would be ridiculous for him to continue serving as page at this point, wouldn’t it?”
“And you decided to call on someone who already is in Sir Radzig’s service? How dare you challenge him like that?”
“Because Henry has fulfilled his duties toward me with exceptional valor and courage. He saved my life several times. I could not wish for a better squire, so I fully intend to keep him by my side.”
A warm wave of love, mixed with dreadful sadness, washed over Henry.
Hanush scoffed. “Poor Henry probably had to pull your drunk arse out of trouble often enough before some jealous husband tried to stab you.”
Impossible to keep quiet at that. Henry took a small step forward.
“Actually, Sir Hans showed nothing but knightly and praiseworthy behavior. He proved himself to be a fearsome warrior and became a valued companion of Zizka and his men. It’s my greatest honor to serve him.”
“Look at you two,” Hanush said. “That’s what I get for leaving you alone for months, huh? Had I known I’d have to deal with this when I made you Hans’ page… Well. It’s not for you to decide who you serve, Henry. My nephew and your father will have to conclude that business.”
Hans still stood unmoving. “Radzig already has squires, and he never officially named Henry as one. So he was mine to claim. And haven’t I been generous enough to Radzig, allowing him to stay at Pirkstein for half a year now? Henry has done excellently in my service. If Radzig doesn’t agree with my decision, he can tell me himself when he returns. Which we expect him to do soon, I suppose?”
“That’s what we are hoping for. Last I heard from him was that he was headed for Jaroslavitz on the Austrian border to support Lord Liechtenstein’s mission. They probably won’t be back in time for the wedding, but that can’t be helped. Oh, Henry, in his letter your father wished for me to give you his best regards.”
“Thank you, sir,” Henry said. He had his own reasons to be impatient about his father’s return. So many questions to ask him. Those worries were for another time, though.
“Now, enough of this standing around like chatting washerwomen.” Hanush looked at Hans expectantly until the young noble nodded.
“Come, Henry. Help me out of this armor,” he said.
“Nonsense.” Hanush put an arm around his nephew’s shoulder. “I’ll assist you. We have wedding business to discuss. No reason why you need Henry standing behind you for that. He certainly has other tasks to do?”
Henry caught Hans’ pained gaze and gave him the slightest nod – all the encouragement he dared to show while so many eyes were around them.
“Right,” Hans mumbled. “Then please make sure our stuff is brought to my quarters, Henry.”
“Of course, sir.”
Hanush smiled at him warmly. “Don’t think I’m forgetting about you. You took good care of Hans, yes?”
“To the very best of my ability, my lord.”
And in so many ways you wouldn’t even dream of.
The thought was full of spite and dark pride, but God, it made him feel so alive. Hanush wouldn’t understand the meaning behind the words, but Hans would – the closest thing to a love declaration that Henry was able to give at the moment.
“For that, you have my gratitude, dear lad,” Hanush said, blissfully unaware. “You may join us for dinner tonight. Come to the Upper Castle an hour after sunset. Wear something nice. Your father surely won’t mind if you take some clean clothes from his wardrobe.”
“I will. Thank you, my lord.”
Henry watched as Hans and his uncle walked up the wooden stairs and vanished into the castle, leaving him alone with his troubled thoughts.
No. He wouldn’t stand here moping, overwhelmed by anger and helplessness. There was work to be done.
He whistled for Mutt; the dog came running and sat by his side while Henry picked up one of the remaining saddlebags that the servants had taken from Pebbles’ back. Most of his own belongings were in there, together with some of Hans’ – arrowheads, his hunting knife, a few other tools. Henry shouldered the bag and walked toward the open doors of Pirkstein, squeezing past a maid with a basket full of chicken feathers in her hands.
The orange torchlight on the inside made the castle seem warmer than it truly was; Henry’s breath fogged in front of his face in the corridors. When he opened the door to Hans’ room – or the one the young lord was using since Radzig had moved into his previous chamber – he was relieved to find that someone had already lit a fire.
While the walls looked the same as months ago, painted with colorful hunting scenes, the furniture had changed since Henry’s last visit. There was a bigger bed with yellow curtains to the right side of the room, and a smaller one stood close to the left wall, where previously a table had been. The wardrobe and Hans’ personal chest were still there, made from beautiful, amber-colored wood, but they had been moved to different corners to make space for the second bed.
Would this be where he would live now? Seemed like Hanush wasn’t entirely sold on Hans’ squire designation. And even if he could be convinced, it felt dangerous. Hans always insisted that it was expected for a squire to share his lord’s quarters, even to sleep in the same bed when the nights grew cold. Normally, there wasn’t anything strange or sinful about it, just warmth and practicality.
Hans and he weren’t normal, though.
Maybe it would be smarter to get back into father’s service. More distance between Hans and me. But then I wouldn’t be able to protect him as much. He’d ride into battles without me... No. Can’t let that happen. I need to stay by his side as close as possible.
Most of Hans’ belongings had already been carried into the room, so Henry walked over to the bags and started taking items out. First, his clothes – they still smelled like the soap Henry had used to wash them back at the Den. And like Hans. Henry traced a collar with his fingertips, trying not to think about how it felt to tear this fabric off warm skin.
He distracted his mind for a while by putting things away to their rightful place. But then he pulled out a bundle of papers and parchments, bound by a thin string, and the edge of a torn letter stuck out. Hans’ farewell message, written the night before his, Zizka’s, and Sam’s rescue mission. Henry gently tugged it free and looked down on the hastily scrawled words that he carried engraved in his heart.
Henry,
When you get this letter, it means you made it out alive and I didn’t. My soul turns dark when I think about it, not because I am hesitant to leave this life – only because that also means leaving you. I want you to keep something from me, and all I have left to offer now is my truth. Forgive me for not finding more elegant words. Time is fleeting.
Since I met you, my heart has grown in ways I would have thought impossible. You made my life so much richer by being part, then the center of it.
It would have been my greatest joy and honor to find a place in this world where I could call you my husband. I will think of you that way when death takes me. If I get to die with your name on my lips, it will be a good end to the life I shared with you, at least for a while. Thank you for everything, Henry of Skalitz.
I love you.
Beautiful and damning, like their entire relationship. Was it foolish to keep this? If Henry had been allowed to choose one thing to take with him into the next life, it would have been this piece of writing, but what if someone found it? There was so little privacy in a place like Pirkstein.
At least his name is not on it. And I think his handwriting isn’t very recognizable here. It could be from a woman, though the words would have been chosen a bit strangely. But yes. If anyone asks, I can tell them that.
Still, best to keep it on his body for as long as he could. He folded it neatly until it was the size of a groschen, gave it a kiss, and packed it into the small purse he wore on his belt; he winced when his fingers brushed over cold, smooth metal inside it. Bartosch’s medal. Two gifts from two forbidden lovers. Two tokens of their care that he ought to bury but could not let go of. He hoped it wasn’t wrong to keep them this close together.
Not much stuff left to unpack now. A pair of boots, a horse brush, and right at the bottom of a saddlebag, something round and hard. A bottle of that hemp oil that had once mainly been used to keep armor smooth and clean before finding a much more pleasant use. Henry knew it was a stupid mistake, yet he still uncorked the liquid and smelled it. The bitter, heady scent tickled memories awake that seemed so strangely far away, though it had only been days since their last night in the furs at the Den.
Henry’s eyes wandered to the large bed, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to have Hans under him there, sinking deep into the heat of his body, tasting his lips and his skin, listening to his breaths quicken like they always did before–
Stop it. Stop. It.
These thoughts would bring him nothing but trouble here. They were already stirring his blood dangerously, so he set the bottle down, stood up, and started the tedious task of taking off his armor on his own. He could have asked any page for help, but he was thankful for having something complicated to focus on rather than sinful images.
Because he didn’t know where else to put everything, he simply leaned his armor pieces against the wall and draped the chain shirt over his breastplate. Always nice to shed that weight. His hands already reached for his sword belt to take it off, but then he paused. This was Rattay, safe and well-guarded, but…
It had been months since Erik had escaped. If he had survived the broken arm – and Henry had little doubt about that – it was possible for him to already be prowling around. Not likely, but possible. Liechtenstein had promised to set people on his trail, but Erik was devilishly cunning. Maybe he had managed to slip through the net cast out for him.
Henry gripped his sword handle until the wrapped leather creaked. Best to stay armed at all times. The monster’s final day would arrive soon.
A small clinking sound made him look down. Damn crossguard was still hanging loose. Damn thing really had to be fixed. Not tomorrow – the blacksmith’s forge wouldn’t be fired up on All Saints’, neither on All Souls’ the day after. But as soon as possible.
Mutt whined lowly and pressed his snout into the back of Henry’s knee.
“What’s the matter, boy? Are you hungry?”
The dog planted his rear on the floor, looking up expectantly. Henry searched his pocket for a treat and found a last strip of dried meat, which Mutt wolfed down in half a second; then he wagged his tail, hoping for more.
It made Henry smile. “How about we go to the mill? I bet Theresa has some food there. She’ll be so happy to see you. You remember Theresa?”
Mutt’s ears twitched at every mention of her name. He stood up, obviously unsure what exactly his master meant, but ready for adventure.
“Come on, then.”
First, Henry needed to change into less sweaty and travel-crinkled clothes, so he walked to the big room his father lived in when he wasn’t riding around Bohemia. While strolling through a corridor, he heard Hanush’s sharp, unmistakable laugh, and he hoped to maybe catch a glimpse of Hans somewhere, but then a door shut and cut it off.
I hope Hans isn’t doing too poorly right now. Hanush wasted no time ripping into him. He really treats Hans like a boy. Hopefully that will change after the wedding.
Before his mind could voice some doubts about it, he opened the door and entered the vacant room. No fire had been ignited – firewood was easy to get around here, but it still needed to be used sparsely, in case the winter would be long. The only light came from the window, made from pieces of thick, greenish glass, set into elaborate metal frames.
Henry took a moment to satisfy his curiosity; he had rarely ever touched glass. Such precious and delicate material was usually reserved for big churches and cathedrals. In most buildings Henry had been in, simple wooden shutters kept the windows closed, as they had in the Devil’s Den. Here in Pirkstein, oiled linen sheets were also used in the wet season, so daylight would shine in while the rain didn’t pour through. Only a few of the upper rooms were set with glass. It was cold and smooth as ice under Henry’s fingertips, and it fogged as he blew some warm air onto it. Fascinating.
Mutt, on the other hand, found it rather boring, as he proclaimed with a whiny yawn.
“Yes, yes, I’ll hurry. So impatient today. Did you learn that from Hans?”
The dog waited dutifully while Henry opened a wardrobe and searched for something he dared to wear. It shouldn’t have felt strange to do this. Hanush had explicitly allowed it, and these were his father’s garments – only that Henry still barely knew the man.
Not even enough for him to mention he has a wife. Is it a marriage of love? Or did he go through the same thing as Hans will, being wed off for political gain?
Probably the latter, considering his rank as royal hetman and confidant of King Wenceslas. Somehow, that seemed easier to accept. It allowed Henry to still believe Radzig had been in love with Ma despite being unable to be with her, even if that probably wasn’t true. Nicer to imagine that his own life had begun out of tender feelings and not just one bad decision without any deeper meaning.
Didn’t help to ruminate about it. Maybe his father would tell him the truth, or at least a comforting lie, once they had a chance to properly talk.
While slipping into a dark shirt and a coat of orange and black, Henry tried to think of things he could tell Theresa about and what to keep from her. Everything to do with Hans’ and his relations had to remain a secret, obviously. And so did all of Zizka’s and Liechtenstein’s plans – too dangerous for her to hear about them. Henry needed to warn her about Erik without frightening her too much. Maybe he could convince her to move into the town, behind its sturdy walls. Yes. That would be best.
Hopefully, she would listen to the advice.
He chose to walk to Peshek’s mill instead of riding there. It was such a short distance that it would have taken longer if he went to saddle Pebbles first. Also, his ass was grateful for the break from sitting on a horse’s back.
People he came across kept bowing their heads and greeting him as sir or the occasional my lord. It made him yearn for his simple green tunic, the one Ma had made – and mended countless times after he had torn it in some stupid accident or prank. As Hans’ squire, he would be expected to always wear finer threads, tough.
Great.
It started to rain as soon as the mill came into view, so Henry sped up until his soles crunched on the rough gravel that Theresa’s uncle used to keep the ground in front of their home from turning into a muddy pit.
Mutt perked up as he recognized where they were, and faster than Henry could command him back to heel, the dog stormed to the door of the hut next to the mill and started barking. Not the deep, growly sounds he made when he tried to intimidate, but high-pitched yips like a pup begging for attention.
“Hey! Stop it!” Henry called.
The door opened, and a familiar silhouette appeared, dressed in brown and white. Henry’s heart jumped with joy as her warm, gentle voice sounded.
“What in… Mutt? What are you doing here, you beautiful scoundrel? Where’s–” She looked up, fell silent, and took a step back as she saw Henry. Her eyes widened – in sudden fear as Henry realized to his dismay.
“God bless, Theresa,” he said, freezing on the spot to not frighten her more.
She breathed in sharply. “Henry…?”
“Uhm. Yes?”
With a cry that startled Mutt and Henry the same, she ran out the door and lunged at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He caught her and gasped under her embrace – that girl had strength from working at the mill. She smelled like safety: of flour, sweat, and hearty food.
“You’re back! Blessed Mother Mary, I didn’t even recognize you! Let me see.” She pulled back to study his face. Right, she had never seen him with a full beard before, and neither with his hair shaved short on the sides.
Henry let his eyes wander over her, too. Theresa’s hair was tied into a braid, some loose strands curling in the cold, damp air. She seemed healthy, with broad shoulders and some meat back on her bones; her cheeks looked less hollow than when Henry had left for Trosky. Most beautiful of all was the cheerful spark in her moss-green eyes.
She’s healing from what we went through.
“You look so different,” she whispered. “Those clothes you’re wearing…”
“Not mine,” he said. “But… yeah. A lot has happened.”
Theresa let go of him to scratch Mutt, who was whimpering heartbreakingly at her. As soon as she touched him, he dropped to the wet ground and rolled on his back to present his belly for pets.
“You haven’t changed at all,” she laughed. “Careful, you’re getting dirty all over.”
Henry sighed. “He doesn’t mind, I’m afraid.”
“Theresa? Everything alright?” That was another voice that Henry knew well – Theresa’s uncle, miller Peshek.
“Yes! Look who came to see us. Henry is back!”
“Is he really?” Peshek came closer and grunted in a way that was either appreciation or contempt. Always hard to tell with him. “Maria and Joseph. You’re looking like a proper knight.”
“I’m not,” Henry said. “But Lord Capon made me his squire.”
Something glistened in Peshek’s eyes; he nodded and smiled, far friendlier than he had ever acted toward Henry before.
“Theresa, I’m sure our guest is hungry.”
“Of course! Come in, Henry. There’s stew on the stove and some dried fish for Mutt. I remember he loves those, right?” Theresa waved to follow her into the hut, and Peshek mumbled something about having more work in the mill as he left them alone.
“Thank you. I can’t eat too much, though. I’m invited to dinner with Sir Hanush and Sir Hans.”
“It’s so strange that you’re so close to the lords of the land now,” Theresa said as she filled a small bowl for him. “I still remember that bright-eyed boy from Skalitz who played with a wooden sword. And now you’re carrying a real one and look like you know how to use it.”
Henry took the bowl – onion stew with oats and peas, thickened with flour, seasoned with caraway and some salt. A meal he had eaten many times in this kitchen; every spoonful burst with memories of the time he had spent here recovering from Skalitz.
“Your cooking still tastes as wonderful as I remember,” he said.
She smiled and handed him a bread roll, golden and soft. Very different from the usual dark, dry rye bread. Henry took it with a questioning look.
“I bought some this morning for All Saints’ tomorrow,” she said. “There’s plenty, so take one. The fresher, the better they are.”
Then Theresa gave Mutt two small, silver-scaled fish to gnaw on while she sat down next to Henry and ate as well. Once their bowls were empty, she took them to a bucket full of water and washed them clean, humming a few notes as she worked. Her presence made Henry feel so safe that he had to remind himself he was the one supposed to do the protecting.
“So,” she said as she set the bowls down to dry. “What happened on that journey of yours? You were gone so much longer than anyone thought you would be. I was getting really scared when the leaves started turning and there was still no sign of you.”
“I’m sorry for making you worry. Lord Capon and I were supposed to deliver a letter to a castle named Trosky, but we got ambushed on the way–”
“Ambushed? Jesus Christ, have mercy.” Theresa crossed herself. “Wait, before you continue.”
She opened a small cupboard and took out a corked ceramic bottle; when she uncorked it, a sharp herbal scent filled the air. Theresa gave Henry the drink first – some devilishly strong schnapps that brought tears to his eyes as it burned down his throat – then she took a sip herself.
“What?” she asked when she caught Henry’s frown. “This is going to be the kind of story that needs medicine to get through, isn’t it?”
She was right, of course. Henry told her as much as he could, about their bad luck with the bandits, the assault on Nebakov, how they had found out Zizka was actually their ally. He left out what had happened after being brought back to Trosky as prisoner; she didn’t need to know about the torture or how Istvan had found his end. Instead, Henry told her some things that had later happened at Kuttenberg, about joining the Devil’s Pack and getting trapped in the siege of Suchdol.
When he mentioned that they had run out of food there, Theresa insisted on feeding him another soft bread roll before she let him continue, despite his assurances that it had been months since then.
He drank another swig of the schnapps to rinse it down. “I managed to sneak out and fetch help from Jobst and my father. Sir Radzig, I mean. We freed Suchdol, and Sir Hans and I stayed with that mercenary group for the rest of the summer. We only left days ago.”
It already hurt to think of that time, those warm days and heated nights spent together. Lazy mornings in their too-small bed, long walks through the forest, baths in the river. They would never find such freedom again.
Another mouthful of the drink helped burn the threatening sadness away.
“That’s… incredible.” Theresa stared into the flames of her hearth. “You helped to bring an end to the war. You’re a hero, Henry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t say that. I wasn’t the one who made the great plans. Most of the time, I just tried my best and got lucky. Sometimes, people had to throw themselves into danger to save me.”
“And still you came back in one piece. One bearded piece.”
“Don’t you like it?” Maybe he needed a little trim.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Theresa said. “You seem so much older. But I suspect that would be true even if you shaved.”
“Hm.”
“What was the best thing that happened to you? There must have been good moments, too?” she asked.
Hans. Every second with him was worth the entire toil. I would do it ten times over again if it meant we would end up going to–
He couldn’t say that, of course, so he reached for the next thing his heart whispered. “I found out I have an older brother.”
“What?” Theresa’s face froze in awe. “How?”
“He’s Martin’s son. So, he isn’t related to me by blood, strictly speaking. But that didn’t matter. We grew close. He’s great. You would like him.”
“I had no idea Martin had another child!”
“Me neither, and Martin himself also didn’t know about him. Complicated story. My brother has a Jewish mother, so he’s Jewish, too. They lived in Kuttenberg until their quarter got raided. Now they are in Kolin.”
“A Jew? Huh.” Theresa threw a fresh log into the flames. “What’s his name?”
“Sam.” In the moment that he said it, Henry wanted to slap himself. He had briefly forgotten – Theresa’s little brother had been called the same.
She blinked and looked to the side, raw pain flickering over her face.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” Henry whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”
“No, not your fault. Just a strange coincidence.” She took a few deep breaths, and Henry pretended not to see the shine in her eyes. Theresa hated crying in front of others.
After a minute of silence, he dared to speak again. “What was life like here while I was gone?”
“Nothing much,” she mumbled. “Work. Market days. Sunday Mass. Waiting for news about the war. The same as always.”
“I saw most refugee tents in Rattay are gone.”
“Yes, the people found work when harvest came. The fields were plentiful this year. A lot of hands needed.”
“Fritz and Matthew?” Henry readied himself for any possibility.
Theresa sighed with the tiredness of a disappointed mother. “Still getting into trouble. They only landed in the pillory once, surprisingly.”
“Oh, that’s good. What about Matthias?”
“He’s back on his feet. Last I heard, he was working at the Neuhof stable. They’re rebuilding.”
“Glad to hear it. He looked really bad when I last saw him in the infirmary. And Johanka? Still in Pribyslavitz?”
“Yes. I visited her. She seems to sleep better now. I’m really glad you were able to help her. She sent her regards.”
Henry reached for her shoulder and gently placed a hand on it. “And what about you?”
“I’m…” Fine, she almost said – Henry felt it. But she looked at him and pressed her lips together before she chose honesty. “It’s a bit better. My heart still stops whenever I hear someone galloping down the road or when children scream. But I have a good home here. Enough food. I’ve made some friends. My uncle is a good man. I try to thank God for my blessings instead of asking Him why He took away what He did. At least now we are safe.”
Henry’s heart sank. He hated to crush that hope, but he couldn’t risk her life for the sake of keeping her in false calmness.
“Theresa… I’m afraid it’s not as safe as it may seem right now.”
“Why do you say that?” Her eyes narrowed.
“One of Istvan Toth’s men survived. He swore to take revenge on Lord Capon… and me. He was the one who led the bandits at Vranik, back in the spring. He said he would do something like that again. The worst thing is, he will probably go for those who are important to me. A lot of people know you and me are close. It’s not going to be hard to find out.”
Theresa bit her lower lip; all color drained from her face. “You’re saying that man will come here…?”
“He might. I’m so sorry to scare you. I just need you to know about it. We are already on the hunt for him. Lord Liechtenstein personally, among others. I won’t let him hurt you, but in order to protect you, it would be best if you and your uncle move into Rattay.”
“We can’t afford the town, Henry,” Theresa said. “Even if someone would be willing to give us a place to live. And they probably wouldn’t. They don’t like millers.”
“I can pay for you.”
“I don’t want that.” Her expression turned to stone. “My uncle might be shameless enough, but I am not.”
“Then let me talk to the lords. Maybe we can figure something out,” Henry pleaded. Surely Hans would help if he were asked to. It couldn’t be that difficult to bring two more people into Rattay, right? Even if they were millers, and Peshek was known to be a bit of a rogue.
“I’m not even sure I could convince my uncle to move.”
“Then go without him. It isn’t far from Rattay to the mill, just a few minutes’ walk. Shouldn’t interfere with your work here much, right?” Henry asked, trying to keep his growing desperation out of his voice. “Theresa, please. At least think about it, for my sake. If anything happened to you… I couldn’t bear it. I’ve lost too many people already. Just like you have.”
Maybe this was unfair – to weld their shared grief into a weapon against her defensive pride. But if it made her consider his advice, it was worth it.
For a moment it seemed like anger would flare up in her. She knocked on the table, obviously ruminating on what he had said. Another little push now.
“You saved me twice,” Henry said quietly. “You’ve taken care of Mutt. Please let me repay that debt.”
“You saved me too, from those Cuman brutes.”
“I never want such animals to get near you again, Theresa.”
Her gaze met his, and the softening in her eyes told him he had won at least a little victory.
“Well,” she said. “I can’t keep you from asking around if there even would be a place, I suppose.”
He breathed out and felt his muscles relax. “I will find something that you deem acceptable. I promise.”
“A promise from Lord Capon’s squire. I feel very important now. How is he? All I hear about him are the wild stories from the bathhouse girls. Sounds like a… light-hearted fella.”
“He is wonderful!” Henry blurted out, too eager to defend Hans. “A true knight and a courageous leader. He saved me. He’s…” Tone it down, he thought. “He’s good. Rattay will prosper when he soon takes over.”
“I see. Seems like you grew closer?”
He stood up and smiled in a way that hopefully hid the torment of having to lie to her. “Yeah, a bit. The sun is going down. I should be on my way to join him in the Upper Castle.”
Mutt sensed that his master was about to leave, so he stood up with a grunt and waddled over, huffing warm air into Theresa’s hands as his way of thanking her for the snacks and scratches.
“You’re such a polite boy, Mutt,” she said. “Thank you for coming by, Henry. It was really good to see you. Will you visit again soon?”
“Of course! I will try to make time to visit you often. I’ll bring Mutt with me, of course. I know he’s at least half the reason you missed me so much.”
She gave him a slap and laughed. “Off with you, before you forget your newfound fine manners.”
Henry squeezed her warm, calloused hand. “God be with you, Theresa. I’ll come back soon.”
And I will make sure that you are safe.