by S. A. Swann
Uldolf moved to sit on the bed next to her. He placed his arm around her shoulders. “What's wrong?”
“D-don't.”
“What?”
She turned and wrapped her arms around him. “Don't remember. Please don't remember.”
“Huh?” He reached down and lifted her face from where it was buried in his chest. “Why?”
She looked into his eyes and bit her lip.
“Why shouldn't I remember, Lilly?”
“I—I—” She hugged him, pressing her face back into his chest, shaking her head.
“Lilly?”
Gradually, she stopped shaking her head. She let go of him and settled back so that she faced him. She touched his cheek, looking at him, eyes clear.
“Lilly, what is it?”
“I love you, Uldolf.” Something in her voice, her expression, had suddenly changed.
Uldolf stared at her a long time; the spill of black-dyed hair across her shoulders; the curve of her neck where it met her jaw; the spider lines of the barely healed scratches where she had cut herself; the swell of her lower lip, trembling slightly; the dampness on her cheeks; her glowing green eyes ...
“Then why are you crying?”
She turned away. “Because you cannot love me.”
Lilly started to stand up, but Uldolf grabbed her, pulling her back down to him. She gasped slightly and stared at him with wide eyes.
“In the name of all the gods, why not?”
“Your family, I—”
“I'll deal with that. It isn't your fault.”
“No, you don't understand—”
“Do you want me?”
“What?”
“Do you want me?”
She shook her head. “This isn't right.”
He grabbed her and said, “Answer the question!”
In response, she pushed him down on the bed, suddenly showing the strength he had seen in his family's field. The same strength he had seen, years before, when she had bounded up his oak tree like a giant squirrel.
Lying there, pinned with her hands on his shoulders, something flashed in his mind, the image of claw marks on the trunk of his tree, the fresh white scars bleeding sap—
“Yes!” she yelled down at him. “I want you. We want you!” Her face fell on his in a savage kiss, a starving animal digging into a fresh kill. Uldolf reached up and pulled her to him, opening his own mouth, giving in to her desperation.
When she pulled her face away, they were both out of breath. “I want you, too,” Uldolf whispered.
A sad smile crossed Lilly's mouth and she shook her head. “No, you don't.”
He reached up and traced her lips with his fingers.
She shuddered. “Please, stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I can't ...”
Uldolf s hand moved, tracing her shoulder, down the side of her body.
She gasped, but she didn't pull away. And when he reached for her surcoat, she helped him—yanking her clothes off with the same desperate ferocity with which she had kissed him. Then she pulled at his clothes, igniting the same white-hot need within his body.
They attacked each other as if their lives depended on the outcome, as if each gasping breath was their last. He expected something slower, gentler, especially when he felt her maidenhead tear. He could feel her body tense, but in response, she became even more feral, tightening her grip and pulling him into something bloody, bestial, and abandoned, where there was no thought of anything but pushing hard, far, deep, falling into her until there was nothing left.
***
What are we doing?
The thought hung there, in the back of her mind, even as she hungrily took all that Uldolf would give her. She tried to pretend that the desire, the need for him, was too much for her to control ...
One part of her thought, We want this.
The other part responded, We can't.
Of anyone who had ever taken this from her, Uldolf was the only one who had ever deserved it. He was the only one she wanted to give it to. Lilly fought with herself to hang onto him, to hang onto this moment. She lost herself within herself, not knowing who held him, who pulled him to her.
At this moment, all that mattered was that Ulfie wanted her. Uldolf wanted her. Despite everything, he wanted her.
He doesn't know, he doesn't remember ...
We can forget, too ...
Part of her knew that this was wrong, that he still didn't understand what she was, what she had done. But she wasn't strong enough to stop it, she was too weak to deny what he asked when, deep in her heart, his asking was everything she ever wanted.
“I want you, too,” he said.
Both of her.
All of her.
Whatever he wanted, whatever came from this, she gave herself to him. And miraculously, he took her. And beyond all of that, beyond the emotional vortex that stripped her down to her soul, he showed her that this act could be about something other than submission, power, or brutality.
She gave herself to Uldolf, but Uldolf also gave himself to her.
She gasped and clutched at him as the first unexpected waves broke across her body. She shuddered, thoughts fragmenting in the force of her climax.
He gave himself to us.
We'll only hurt him again.
We'll never hurt him.
No!
Yes!
Lilly arched her back underneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Ulfie!
***
They didn't move for a long time after. Uldolf felt as if the gods had taken turns shaking his body until his bones had liquefied. He was quite certain that he would soon have a fair share of oddly shaped bruises down his back and legs. Lilly appeared nearly as drained, eyes closed, mouth half open, face glistening with sweat.
Uldolf rolled on his side, as much as the narrow bed would allow. He shook his head. “What were we thinking?”
Lilly blinked and turned to look at him. “I love you, Uldolf.”
“You mentioned that,” Uldolf said. He laid his head down next to hers. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 23
Gedim didn't sleep. The pain in his head and the absence of his family merged with the weight of Günter's words to keep him from any thought of rest. The sense of helplessness tore at his gut. There was no way out of this for him or his family. This wasn't like the fall of Mejdân, when the victorious Germans were satisfied with fealty and professions of faith. The choices then were stark, but they were choices.
No choices faced him now. He could do nothing to change the horrid outcome. For all of Sergeant Günter's assertions, the man was blind. Gedim's words would not change anything. The sergeant's self-deception was probably necessary; the man worked for these pitiless Christian bastards. If the man had understood what Gedim did, he probably would be forced to slit his own throat.
This bishop from Rome wouldn't care for what Gedim said, under whatever duress he said it. Gedim had seen enough in his life to know that if this man had come to Johannisburg in search of a Prûsan conspiracy, he would find one.
He didn't know if what the sergeant had said about Lilly was true or not. But, in his despair, he was quite aware that the truth of the matter was beside the point.
In his heart, he unexpectedly found himself hoping that the story was true. If they were to slaughter him and kill his family, he would wish the full wrath of the old god Pikuolis upon them, his gray hand on their throats, dragging them into their graves. If Lilly was such a monster, such a servant of the Evil One, let her work his will upon them. Let them feel his pain.
The guards threw open the door to his cell sometime before daybreak. They hauled him to his feet and marched him out into the hallway. Neither man was familiar. Both had the paler skins and narrower faces of the Germans.
For all of the sergeant's words, this was no longer a Prûsan town ruled by Germans. It was a German town with an inconvenient Prûsan popul
ation.
The two Germans dragged him through the bowels of the keep, up to a room that was slightly bigger than the room where he had been held. The only light was from a pair of torches set in sconces by the far wall. There were at least three men in the room, but Gedim did not get a very good look at them as the guards pushed him across the floor to face the wall between the torches.
Someone spoke in thickly accented German. At best, Gedim's understanding of the language was elementary, but this speaker mangled the language too much for him to make out.
“I don't understand,” he said, in his own butchered German.
One of the men holding him pushed his face into the wall, igniting a flare of pain from the side of his wounded face.
A familiar voice said, in Prûsan, “You are Gedim, son of Lothar, brother of Reiks Radwen Seigson of Mejdân?”
“Damn it, Günter,” he spat in Prûsan, flecks of blood staining the wall in front of him. “You know who I am.”
The men pressed him roughly into the wall.
“Answer yes or no.”
“Yes!” His lips tore against the rough stone as he spoke. Günter repeated Gedim's answer, in German.
Someone behind him pulled his arms back and bound his wrists together as the man with the bad German spoke some more. Günter translated, voice flat, as if he was dictating a letter. “You farm land to the west of Johannisburg, lands retained by you after Mejdân was Christianized?”
“Yes.” The word was half a gasp as his arms were pulled straight back and upward behind him. He heard a rustle above him. He looked up to see anonymous hands pass a rope over a hook embedded in the ceiling.
More unintelligible German, and Günter translated. “You accepted baptism and our Lord Jesus Christ?”
“Yes.”
“Do you not still pay homage to the pagan idols of Perkunas, Patrimpas, or Pikuolis?”
“No.”
The rope pulled taut and his whole body spasmed as his arms were pulled upward behind him, yanked by the rope binding his wrists. Agony tore through his shoulders, overwhelming the faint pains where the broken flesh of his face ground against the rough wall.
Bad German shouted in his ears, and Gedim almost felt the breath of the questioner on the back of his neck, despite the pain.
Distantly, he heard Günter speak. “Lies will not lessen your pains. Truth now. Do you worship these false gods? Do you sacrifice to their idols?”
Gedim could barely sputter. “No.”
The rope pulled again, and his heels left the ground and his body slammed into the wall before him. He could feel with a searing clarity the point at which the bones of his shoulders separated. Gedim's awareness faded until his whole universe was the sensation of bone twisting against flesh.
Then it faded slightly as the tension released. Feet flat on the ground again, he slumped against the wall, gasping and sweating. He couldn't move, because any shift in his weight fired agony in his dislocated shoulders.
“Confess your idol worship,” Günter translated, and this time the sergeant added the word “Please.”
Some errant part of Gedim's mind rebelled. Why should I ease the weight on your ass-licking soul?
Then the tension returned, and Gedim blacked out.
***
Cold water fell like ice across his back, snapping him awake and igniting the fire in his arms.
“Confess your idolatry.” Not Günter this time, but spoken in a German slow and deliberate enough that Gedim could follow.
Gedim spat. “May Pikuolis come himself to drag your soul screaming to Hell.”
The room was silent for a time. Günter, still present, translated. “He honors Pikuolis, lord of the dead.”
Gedim hung his head. He pitied the poor sergeant. Somehow Günter still thought he could improve on the situation. Even with pain and blood blurring my vision, I can see the only thing separating you and me is time ...
More German, too quick to make out.
“The truth will end this sooner,” Günter told him. “You will now tell us of the creature named Lilly, and how you came by her.”
They put tension on the rope, not enough to make him pass out—but enough to remind him of what it could feel like.
He didn't want to tell them anything. The last thing he wanted to say was how Uldolf had found this woman, or what it seemed he meant to her. He would sooner kill himself than tell them how Burthe had conspired to hide the woman from the Order.
But they wouldn't let him kill himself, and when he thought his limits were reached, his feet left the ground. At that point, what he wanted didn't matter anymore.
Chapter 24
From the window of his room, Uldolf watched the first predawn light reach the sliver of sky that was visible between the stable and the inn. The sky was deep violet, becoming lavender near the eastern end of the alley.
Soon the gates would open for the day.
He looked down at Lilly, asleep on the bed. She had wrapped the single blanket around herself, leaving only her head and her left leg exposed. He found himself splitting his time between watching the sky, looking at her face, and allowing his gaze to travel along the naked length between her ankle and where the curve of her thigh tucked under the blanket.
Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, he wasn't looking at her in a particularly lustful manner. He stared at her more in fascination, the way he would at a striking sunset, or at a field of wildflowers on a particularly clear blue day, or the way he did sometimes at the pool by the oak he had shown her so long ago. There was her beauty, but there was something else. It danced on the edges of his mind, as if he only saw the shimmering surface of the water. Underneath was something dark, cold, threatening ...
“Nonsense,” Uldolf whispered.
Lilly stirred, blinking. “Ulfie?”
Who was she? Was she the smiling, almost childlike person looking up at him now? Or was she the cold unhappy one ...
They both said they loved him.
“Ulfie?” she repeated. He looked at her, and the smile she gave him now was anything but childlike. The way she let the blanket slide off her shoulder was very distracting.
“We have to leave soon,” Uldolf told her. He gathered her clothes and handed them to her. Reaching for them, she let the blanket fall completely away from her upper body.
“You need to get dressed,” he told her.
Her smile faded slightly, and she nodded.
Uldolf looked back out the window as she stood to put her clothes on. “We're going out the gate. Once we're outside the walls, I'm going to take you back to the farm. We'll stay in the woods, and when you're safe, I'll come back here.”
He felt her hand on his shoulder.
He turned to look at her. “You know I have to do something for my parents, and Hilde.”
Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “I—I—I know.”
“You understand, don't you?”
“I understand.”
She let go of him, and before she turned away, he took her wrist and drew her back to him. He kissed her and whispered, “Then you know I'm not going to forget about you, either.”
She pulled away with an expression that made him think he had said the wrong thing.
***
“Of course,” Uldolf whispered. “It is not going to be that easy.”
The two of them stood in the same spot where Uldolf had been standing the prior evening, watching the main gate from the dawn shadows. His plan had been to slip out at sunrise—but where last evening the only person really paying attention to the gate had been Lankut, this morning Uldolf saw two extra men at the gate. And the new men weren't Prûsan.
As he watched, a man wearing the cross of the Order came up to talk to one of the extra men.
Lilly placed a hand on his shoulder, and Uldolf reached up and held it with his own. “I'll think of something.”
They could try and scale the village wall. But even if she still could climb like she had
when she was a child, Uldolf couldn't. They could retreat back to his room, but that didn't get them out of danger, or get him any closer to rescuing his family. He thought of leaving her at the inn and going to try and get his family out by himself.
Uldolf shook his head. That wouldn't work, either.
He still had the dagger and the collar, though; the silver was worth something. Wagons came and went all day. He just needed to find someone who was willing to hide them. He patted her hand. “I think I know what to do, Lilly.”
He turned and led her down a narrow street away from the main road. He was going to get her out of harm's way, one way or another. He'd talk to the innkeeper. The man was sympathetic enough that he might know someone willing to smuggle them out of Johannisburg.
He wove their way through the side streets, and right before the last turn back to the rooming house, Lilly frantically grabbed his arm.
Uldolf turned to face her. “What?”
Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flared, and she was violently shaking her head. “Ulfie, n-no!”
They stood between a building and the stables behind the boarding house. Uldolf could see the wall of the boarding house at the end of the alley.
Lilly tried to pull him back the way they had come, away from the boarding house. “They're c-c-coming,” she said. “They're coming!”
Now he could hear boots up ahead, in the alley behind the boarding house.
He backed Lilly away from the intersection, but it was already too late. He had taken only a few steps when a quartet of men walked in front of the exit to their alley. One of them wore the black cross of the Order.
Uldolf pushed Lilly away from him and whispered harshly, “Run.”
She staggered a few steps away from him, and Uldolf faced the men who had just turned in his direction. He took a step forward and bowed slightly at the knight and his entourage. “Greetings, sir.”
Please, Lilly, get out of here while they are focused on me.
The knight stepped forward and looked him up and down. “What is your name?”
Uldolf swallowed. “My name is Uldolf.”