After a glorious gallop in the cold bright sun, Cat felt better, although still melancholy. Was it, after all, entirely reasonable to expect a man to remain faithful to a wife who wasn't really a wife? I know exactly what Papa would say!
She felt a little hungry, for it was close to supper, but she was unwilling to go back to her troubles just yet. It was a beautiful warm afternoon, a mingling of gold, brown and rust in the forests that spread out below. The sky over her head was blue. The view of Great Heldenberg and her companions was spectacular, even if the peaks were obscured.
There'd been clouds up on the mountain all day, a gray mass which moved as if it were alive, expanding and contracting across the strange lifeless zone of rock and castle-sized boulder that shouldered the beige, late fall meadows. She'd often seen the peaks hidden in this strange shroud.
In the stables, Cat had heard tales about these clouds. They said they sometimes came down to blanket the upper pastures for days, leaving the herders and their animals in a situation where they hardly dared take a step. Hidden within it, wolves, trusting to their noses, came from the forest and carried off unlucky strays, or, sometimes, dogs or small children. After a time, Cat slowed Star to a trot. The sun was low and she didn't want to miss the cattle path. It was dangerous to do so because of the ravine which lay about a half kilometer beyond. She had turned slightly south and had just entered one of those depressions with which the mountain side was pitted, when she felt a cold wet breath on the back of her neck
In an eye blink, the world she'd been moving through, the world of valley and mountain, of brilliant colors and rosy, waning sun, disappeared. Star snorted, half-reared and then stood stock still.
They were enveloped in fog. The air inside was cold and wet and queer smelling, like the exhalation of the ancient bog they'd been skirting. Stifling a shudder, Caterina dismounted. "Come on, girl," she said to the mare, rubbing her sweaty neck. "Maybe it will go back up the mountain again. In the meantime, we'll walk."
Holding the reins, she began to move in a direction that felt like down. Surely, if they just kept going as they had been, they'd soon hit the cattle path. "If not," she whispered, "You and I will be spending a miserable night together."
Of course, being out in the weather was the least of her worries. Cat racked her brains, trying to orient herself, trying to remember the location of the huts shared by the local herders. She walked on, staring at the ground and praying not to miss the worn manured path the cattle made.
Fog poured around them like a river. Sometimes she could see a few yards ahead, sometimes she couldn't even see her feet. She hoped to keep the high meadows on her left, but the grass, when she could see it, seemed sparser.
Was she actually going back up the mountain? It was impossible to tell. Worse, she kept hearing strange sounds, a smothered wailing.
Shepherds? Or—a scouting wolf?
Fear gnawed at her. Without the sun, her sense of time seemed lost as well, and it soon seemed they'd been in the fog forever.
* * *
Star's ears pricked. Then, she reared. If Caterina hadn't had a good grasp on her bridle, she would have bolted, perhaps to break a leg or fall into the dreaded ravine.
"Whoa! Whoa, Star!" She threw her arms around the horse's neck. Clinging to the mane with all her strength, Cat desperately sought to find, somewhere in the turmoil, thoughts of calm to send.
The mare hopped from side to side, but Cat managed to hold on. At last Star stood, brown eyes rolling, nostrils quivering.
Looking around, Caterina strained to see what had so frightened the mare. As one of those intermittent breaks flowed past, it let in a rosy shaft which told of sunset. Close, in that light, she saw a familiar landmark: an ancient stone, roughly pillar shaped, perhaps eight feet tall. The shiny gray surface was covered with a moving carpet of sparkling droplets.
This pillar, she knew, sat near the herdsmen's huts, at the very upward end of the cattle path. With a chill, she realized that if she'd gone much farther, she would have ended near the awful ravine.
But, which way was down? She peered at the ground, but now her feet—and everything else— disappeared again. Matching her spirits, everything turned into ghastly gray. Hoping not communicate her fear, Cat stroked Star's sweaty neck. At the same time, a long shiver coursed along her back.
What to do? Stay by the stone?
* * *
As she patted Star and wondered what to do next, a giant, a man of cloud, stepped out of that gray on gray. Water beaded his clothes, silvered his dark head and clung in beads to his flesh. Cat started, and Star reared again, nearly pulling her off her feet.
"Thank the Trinity, the Blessed Mother, and every demon on this mountain!"
The otherworldly man grabbed her horse's reins.
"The peasants say this thing is a lodestone which keeps people from the ravine, but I never believed it 'till now."
"Christoph!" Cat had never been so glad to see anyone in her life."
Easy, Star," he said, holding the mare, who was still shying and backing. "Easy, girl. It's only me."
When they finally got her quieted, Christoph slipped an arm around Cat and offered a watery kiss, which she, her heart welling with relief, accepted.
"Can you find the huts?" She was a little breathless from the enthusiasm of his embrace. Their quarrel suddenly didn't seem to matter.
"Yes, like Theseus in the labyrinth." He bent, plucked at a cord which extended away into the nothingness. "I was just coming to stake this behind the stone. The Schafmann's are stretching another just below their homes. Anyone who crosses will know to follow it to safety. You aren't the only person caught out here today. Their men are still high up with the sheep."
"Lost?"
"Stranded. They know how to deal with it. They have spears and dogs, so wolves shouldn't be a big problem. The cord is just to keep them from getting too close to the ravine." He'd found the upright, and secured the line. Then they began to go back, leading Star and following the cord. Around them, a twilight chaos swirled.
"How did you know where I'd be?"
"I could say that I'm good at catching foxes, but the truth is I watched you ride out."
"But I went east, through the pines."
"I knew you'd be in the mood for a long ride, and that you 'specially like the high meadow from east to west, but I beg you not to do it again, at least until I return from Vienna."
"This fog was way up on the barrens. It looked so far away—"
"Well, that's the danger. I saw which way you went, and then I couldn't take my eyes off the mountain. After a half hour of worrying, I decided that I wasn't going to get anything done anyway, so I saddled Brandy and rode over here. A good thing I did, for I'd barely reached Scafmann's when it came down." His strong hand squeezed hers.
Wavering before her eyes there were suddenly sheds and huts, low heaps of turf and stone. In one, empty except for a few chickens and a strong smell of the sheep, Cat unsaddled and secured Star beside Brandy.
"A good thing she's already bred."
Cat nodded. A pair of half grown boys appeared and began to help, stealing curious looks at their master and their young mistress. Settling in took awhile, getting hay for feed, wiping the horses down, drawing water for them, all of it done in that weird shifting twilight, like a game of blindman's bluff.
"Is your father out in the fog?" Cat asked one of the boys.
"Yes. All the men are." His fair skin reddened beneath his tan, perhaps because he was not yet considered one of them. "Mutter and Tante are in the big house with the little ones while Franzi and I and the Herr Graf put the lines out."
In the family "big house," which was a single, dirt-floored room, they discovered two women, six children, an orphaned lamb, and a sheepdog bitch and three yapping puppies. It was hot and noisy, although the tumult did die down somewhat after the unexpected entrance of their lord and lady.
Caterina had one of the two chairs in the house forced up
on her, so she sat and ate what was offered, a bowl of bitter rye porridge with a thin coating of sheep's butter. It was gritty but hot, and she swallowed it gratefully.
As she ate, she studied her hostesses. The women were probably not old but it was hard to tell, for their faces were lined and leathery from exposure. One squatted by the hearth and nursed first an infant and then a toddler. She expressed gratitude that her master and his sword were to be there tonight.
"I always fear bandits when it's like this. They come in the fog, like wolves."
"Don't worry, Gute Frau. They'll get a surprise if they visit me." Christoph patted the short sword he always carried.
It was agreed that Caterina and Christoph would shelter apart in a small room that currently held much of the family's treasure of wool and sheepskin. After thanking the women for their hospitality and promising that he'd have a shoat sent up to them tomorrow, to "give them a change"—a promise received with delight—Christoph took a burning stick and went with Cat out into the thick night. The stone and turf room they entered shared a wall with the one they'd left. By trailing their hands along the stone, they found the door.
Both husband and wife had to duck. Inside, the smell of sheep seemed just as strong as before, although the smell was cleaner, emanating from a pile of market ready skins and washed wool that half filled the place.
By the meager light of the burning branch he carried, Christoph started a fire on the hearth, using some pine branches piled there. Caterina watched as he crouched, expertly nursing the first sparks with handfuls of twigs. Soon the sharp fragrance began to rise.
"I'll have to see these folks get more hardwood," Christoph said, selecting a chunk of wood from the heap by the door, "and, since you'll be here while I'm in Vienna, Cat, make sure that they get any and all autumn lambs for themselves. Frau Schafmann told me that for some reason, Walter took every one last year."
They pulled a pair of hides close to the fire and sat down. As these were going to market, they had been washed clean of dirt and ticks.
"They have so many children," Cat said.
"Not much else to do here at night."
Her husband moved logs closer to the hearth. "We'll have to sleep in these clothes, but if we can get some heat up in here, it shouldn't be too bad. Especially," he added, turning a smile upon her, "if you let me put my arms around you."
After he'd built up the fire and made a pile of wood handy, they lay down together. Cat was exhausted and melancholy, subsiding against him without a word. It was good to be away from the manor tonight. Her thoughts kept running toward Vienna, but whatever he did or did not do there, she had to finally admit to being in love.
The night would be one of dozing, for he would have to keep tending the fire. Husband and wife settled down together like two spoons, their damp cloaks bunched behind to bank the heat. Christoph kept one arm around her. She could feel his breath against her hair.
* * *
Soon she was dreaming, a dream that began in an erotic tickle and then swelled into a forbidden delight, like that which she gave herself when alone in bed. In the dream, a hand was between her legs, gently making love among the curls.
Cat swayed between two powerful desires, one to continue sleeping, the other to respond. Penetration was going on as well, a delicate and gradual entry. At each stopping place, little circles were drawn and drawn again. When each filled with wet pleasure, a further subtle incursion was made. Through the fog of sleep, Caterina began to move, wanting to deepen and widen sensation.
She came to consciousness gasping in wild release, like a snapping shower of sparks. She was still lying in front of the fire on that bed of fleece, but her husband's hand, which had started the night guilelessly upon her hip, was now inside her trousers.
Gently, skillfully, for who knew how long, he'd been playing the burning secret. A luxurious slow circling of his fingers went on in the liquid benediction that had answered her bliss and his prayer.
Feeling her ecstatic sigh and shudder, Christoph rolled her over, began to devour her with kisses.
"You were going in glory…Now let me show you another way." Big hands took hold of her trousers.
"Not fair!"
In the next moment her long legs felt air. Then, half naked, she was thrust back into the wool while all the hard muscle of him crowded between her knees. Pushing her shirt up, he fell ravenously upon the sweets of her high, freckled breasts.
"I know your game," she gasped, still trying to fend him off, if not with her strength, then with words. "As soon as I love you, you won't want me anymore."
He raised his dark head and gazed deep into her eyes.
"God and the devils of Heldenberg gave you back to me just for this."
She felt him against her, pressing against the innocent opening. Fire and shadow rippled over his powerful body, while darkness gathered around his head like a crown. For one astonishing instant she thought she saw horns among his curls. Her hand rose to the spot, touched only thick hair and the honest skin of his forehead.
"Christoph," she made a final entreaty, knowing that she was lost, heart and body, feeling the hot pressure of his urgency, "Don't hurt me."
From his position of absolute command her husband came to seize her mouth with his, a kiss both hungry and absolutely tender.
"Oh, my precious Red! I'll take good, good care of you."
Curls spilling over his shoulders, he breathed her in, ran his tongue across the sensitive mounds of her breasts in an ecstasy of tasting, ending with a deep draught from her mouth. As he sampled her essence he was entering, a progress obtained with remarkable ease through the hot liquid breach he'd made.
His beautiful face shone as he paused to whisper. "Think of the hunt. You only get hurt when you fall; you only fall when you don't go with the horse."
Cat gasped as he, holding her easily against his powerful body, began a tentative rocking. Quick, shallow thrusts grew harder, went deeper. Casting an arm around his neck she began to move with him, to follow his lead and return his love, so long hungered for. As he rode harder, a savage joy surged through her.
"By God—and this Devil Mountain—I'll love you forever!"
Then it was all sensation, his hardness, the working muscular back to which she clung. The long defended citadel of her body was in flames. Reflexively her hips rose and fell. He knew exactly what he had to do to carry her with him, to keep her circling in fire. Hot liquid bloomed, splashed.
Kisses were lavished upon her. The pine fire howled and hissed, sent showers of sparks flying onto the flags. Heat crowded the tiny hut, poured over them in a monumental wave. Crimson rippled and flowed over their bodies, over Caterina's beautiful upraised knees, as her husband deeply, relentlessly, engaged.
"Oh, so good she is! Go my red angel, go again for me!" His powerful body rode a burning trail, thrust her deep into the ancient consciousness while her young body answered with abandon. Male and female, matched in height and strength, on a tide of that so long denied desire, strove to wrestle their way into yet another explosion of delight.
* * *
Afterwards, fingers tracing the expanse of his chest, she whispered, solemnly wondering, "Mama said the first time would hurt. But it was all—all—ah—nice." Her body still hummed, while the all over blush flamed.
"My pleasure." Her husband smiled joy into her eyes, and then, meditatively ran his lips across her freckled, smooth shoulder. "A benefit of giving your beautiful self to a rogue who's had ample practice. And, just imagine, sweetheart. It can only get better."
Then there was an exhausted descent into unconsciousness, locked in his arms, his words of love echoing in her ears, his body so close, so protective and tender. Night and the mountain's huge silence enclosed them.
* * *
Daybreak… Cat opened her eyes to find him dressing beside her. On the hearth fresh branches made a chorus of crackling.
"It's just dawn. We'll saddle up and start down the cow path."
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"Is the fog still here?" Dizzily, she sat up.
"Yes, but not as thick as yesterday." Carefully neutral, he handed her the wrinkled riding pants.
"Christoph..." she hesitantly began, twisting and shyly drawing her knees up in an effort to hide.
"Hush, sweetheart." He bent and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Just get dressed now. We'll have plenty of time to talk on the way down." As he went out, bending through the low door, she caught a glimpse of the veiled light that comes just before dawn.
* * *
"Give me your hand."
They walked, leading their horses, eyes carefully trained upon the trampled muddy trail they were following. Obedient as a child, she put her hand into his.
"You—seduced—me." Her body still hummed with what they'd done, but this morning the fear was back. Afraid of what she felt for him, afraid because she knew they were walking down a path that would lead him away and straight to the temptations of Vienna.
"Yes, but the woman beside me knew what she wanted. And every word spoken last night is true. I love you, Cat—and you love me." He sighed. "Damn it, woman, I knew you'd wake up fretting."
Despite her confusion, she didn't pull her hand away. She couldn't.
"I—I do love you. I guess you know anyway. But you—you made something happen I wasn't ready for."
"I was afraid last night when the fog came down. I thought I'd lost you, just as I lost Wili." He raised her hand and kissed it. "We're mated now, Caterina."
As he spoke the cloud stirred. Next came an icy gust. All the mist remaining went rolling backwards in a sighing rush, almost as if the mountain had inhaled it. Now, there was an up and a down—an eye-watering burst of color.
The sun floated on a distant blue horizon. Spread at their feet was a blanket of yellow and gold, here and there patched with somber pines. For a moment they stood motionless, his hand warm upon hers. Cat blinked fiercely against stinging tears.
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