The Mercenary's Marriage

by Rachel Rossano

  The city was crowded in spite of the rain and the mud in the streets. Brice found herself so involved in keeping track of Trenar and avoiding collisions, she had no energy to look at her surroundings. Feeling harassed and claustrophobic, she was extremely thankful when Trenar turned off the main street into a quieter neighborhood. The rain slowed and tapered off to nothing.

  The houses lining the street were nicer than she had ever seen. Moving more quickly, Trenar strode along purposely. Brice had to speed up to a hasty trot to keep up. Although he was not as tall as Darius, her guide was still taller and longer limbed than her. He increased the pace now that they were unhindered by a crowd. At the end of the street, a high wall blocked the way and there appeared to be no way to turn.

  They came to a hasty stop and Brice’s knees almost gave out. For the first time in hours, Trenar spoke. “Are you going to make it?” His voice was rough, but not unkind.

  “Rest.” She gasped. “Please.” Her ribs were throbbing. Gingerly, she eased to the ground. The cobblestones were far from comfortable, but she needed to get off her shaky legs. Her head throbbed and she was sure her healing ankle was swollen. Closing her eyes against the painfully dim daylight, she tried to push away the cold. It was a doomed endeavor though. Freezing water was seeping into her skirts from the street beneath her.

  Kneeling next to her, Trenar examined her face. He did not remove his hood, but he did lift it enough so she could see that his eyes were blue and worried. “You are doing a great job,” he said encouragingly. “We are practically there. Do you think you can continue with my help?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. He immediately rose and offered her his hand. Taking it, she found herself being pulled to her feet. With his arm supporting her beneath her shoulders and around her ribs, they approached the wall. Brice winched at every step, but together they waded through the waterlogged brush at the base. Off to the left, Trenar directed her along the wall and behind a stand of bushes and an ancient tree. There, blocked from the view of the street, was a door. About five feet high and two feet wide, it was set back into the thick stone of the wall and almost impossible to see from the side.

  Trenar produced a key from somewhere and thrust it into the lock. With a quick turn and a muted click, the latch released and the door swung inward. In moments, they were through and he was locking it again from the other side.

  “Remind me to give this to Karyn,” Trenar said before making the key disappear into his jerkin.

  “Why would Karyn want the key?” Brice asked.

  “This is their property,” Trenar stated matter-of-factly. “Come.” He offered an arm and Brice took it gratefully. “It is time for me to introduce you.”

  Beyond the trees guarding the small door, a large walled yard spread out. The house, a ways from the back wall, was a simple building with three windows overlooking the garden: one on the second floor and two on the first. As they approached the first row of vegetables, a small figure dashed past them up the path to the door of the house. Brice glimpsed what she thought was a flash of red as it disappeared inside, but she was not sure.

  “We are being announced,” Trenar commented with an amused smile.

  Just as he spoke, the door opened again and a medium-sized woman emerged with a child behind her. The woman and child both had red hair. Certain that Trenar had gotten the wrong house, Brice slowed her steps.

  “Ah, Trenar.” The woman smiled, but as she approached, Brice saw fear in the woman’s eyes. “Where have you harkened from?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “Come in and rest a bit. You can test some of Joyla’s first loaf of bread.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Trenar replied with a similar false lightness. “How are the girls these days?” They were almost to the door now.

  “They are all healthy and well.” Their hostess stepped aside so they could enter the house. Brice’s numb feet stumbled on the first step, but Trenar, by sheer strength, all but dragged her into the building. “Joyla is becoming quite a little lady.” The woman said before she followed them inside.

  The instant the door was shut, the woman’s face changed. “Joyla,” she called. The sound hurt Brice’s ears. Trenar set her on the nearest chair as the sounds of feet came from above them.

  “What are you doing here? Where is the army? Why aren’t you with them?” The woman asked. Brice was still certain that she could not be Karyn. She looked up to find their hostess glaring at Trenar.

  “Calm down, Karyn. Ewian was perfectly fine when I left him this morning. A contingent of the army is just miles outside the walls. We were not certain about the reception awaiting us inside the city. I was sent to scout things out and Darius sent Brice with me.” Trenar began removing his cloak. The fabric was water logged and dripping on the packed dirt floor. “He wants you to take care of her until he returns. She is his wife.” Karyn nodded her head in Brice’s direction and turned immediately back to Trenar.

  Another redheaded child had appeared suddenly. Brice judged her to be about ten. The child’s face left no further doubt in Brice’s mind about the father. She had Ewian’s dark brown, almost black, eyes.

  Turning to the older child, Karyn said, “Joyla, get out the bread and cheese in the pantry, Uncle Trenar and his friend are hungry.” She took Trenar’s cloak and waited for his boots.

  Brice rose and started to remove her own cloak while Karyn and Trenar continued their discussion.

  “Since when has Darius been married?” Karyn asked as the man pulled of his second boot.

  Sitting down on the bench by the door, Trenar sighed. “Since right after Lord Micrey was defeated. I suggest you keep your questions to those that Brice cannot answer because I am going to be leaving almost immediately.”

  “But you will have to wait for these to dry at least.” She raised the sopping garment for emphasis, showering her own skirts anew.

  “I was hoping that you would lend me one of Ewian’s. I really need to hurry. I have lost time already and need to return to camp by nightfall.” The eldest girl was setting the food on the table and Trenar eyed it hungrily.

  “Very well.” Karyn briskly turned and collected Brice’s cloak and headed toward the fireplace. Spotting her younger daughter watching from the side, she told her, “Lysa, fetch your father’s extra cloak from the trunk in the bedroom.” Lysa disappeared through a door to the left of the fireplace.

  Karyn spread out the wraps in front of the fire. “The least I can do is feed you and tell you what I know,” she said as she turned toward the oven set in the wall next to the fireplace.

  “That would be helpful,” Trenar admitted. “What is the latest news from the castle?” He leaned back in his chair.

  After trying to follow the conversation, Brice soon found her head getting heavy and her stomach tightening in response to the smells of cooking food. The whole time that Karyn was enlightening Trenar, she was producing a large selection of food from various nooks in the kitchen. Finally, she paused after setting a steaming loaf of fresh bread on the large table and announced they could come to the table to eat. Trenar rose and complemented Joyla on the golden colored loaf.

  Brice did not catch the rest of the following exchange; instead, she concentrated on rising again. After the brief rest, her muscles had decided they had taken enough abuse and were not going to cooperate. As she gradually managed to gain her feet, Karyn exclaimed, “Trenar, why didn’t you say she was injured!”

  In a flurry of activity, Brice found herself being ushered carefully up the stairs behind the fireplace onto the second floor. Dimly aware of a large room and four beds of varying sizes, Brice was directed to the largest. “Joyla, fetch my nightdress.”

  Karyn made Brice sit on the edge of the bed while she removed her shoes. Once Trenar had been shooed back down to the kitchen, Karyn helped Brice out of her wet clothing and into a dry gown. Brice found she had no strength to protest and meekly obeyed every command. This was good because Karyn was not one to liste
n to any objections. In the end, she and Joyla left her tucked snugly into bed to sleep until Karyn could bring up some sustenance appropriate for a weak stomach. Brice wanted to point out there was nothing wrong with her stomach, but lacked the initiative. The bed was too soft and her bones too weary. Sleep claimed her almost the instant the hatch closed.

  Darius glanced restlessly at the sky. The gray expanse gave not one hint as to the time that had passed. “Will you stop worrying?” Ewian hissed. Darius dropped his attention to the battle plans he was supposed to be studying and ignored his friend. That did not discourage Ewian. “You are worrying too much,” Ewian accused as he whipped the rough map from beneath Darius’ nose.

  “Trenar is not back yet,” Darius pointed out, “and the army should have caught up with us by now. Especially considering all the time we lost with the attack and having to slow down for the wounded. I am concerned about what might be keeping him.”

  “Trenar has not had time to do more than get his bearings,” Ewian protested.

  Darius was about to comment, but one of the sentries was approaching.

  “There is movement of some kind to the west of us. It looked like a group of thirty to thirty-five armed men heading toward the city.” The man informed Darius as he snapped to attention.

  “What kind of men?” Ewian asked as Darius returned the salute.

  “They are armed and in a hurry for some reason we cannot identify. They are not part of our army or any other that we know.”

  Darius caught Ewian’s intrigued glance and dismissed the soldier with a nod. Ewian immediately started to roll up the maps before them. “The king should be in his quarters about now,” Darius commented as he reached for the battle plans that they had worked out so far.

  Ewian nodded. “He will want to know about this.” Grimacing slightly, he paused and glanced at Darius. “This means we are probably going to make our move tomorrow morning with or without Trenar’s report.”

  “I only hope he figures out the change in plans in time to help,” Darius said. Together they headed across camp to inform the king.

  Brice slept for an entire day. Except for the interruptions of meals, she was oblivious to the passing of time. In the following afternoon, Brice awoke to silence. There was a large metal wash tub at the end of her bed with two towels draped over the end. Feeling sore from laying so long in one spot, Brice pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked around the room for the first time.

  The room covered the whole second floor. Three smaller beds stood against the other outside walls, each with a chest at the foot. The bed she had been occupying for the past day was wide enough for two people to sleep side by side. The two windows on the tallest walls of the room were covered with dark curtains that dimmed the bright sunshine beyond.

  Carefully she eased her feet over the edge of the bed. Just as they touched the rough surface of the floorboards, Karyn appeared in the stairwell at the far end of the room. Catching sight of Brice, she smiled. “Feeling better?” she asked.

  Brice nodded and eyed the steaming bowl in her hands that had just come into sight. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she suddenly smiled. It was anxious for sustenance. Karyn smiled in return. “Here.” She crossed the room and offered the bowl cradled in a cloth nest to Brice. “You eat this and I will start carrying up bath water for you.” The matron immediately disappeared down the stairs again. Obediently, Brice started in on the stew.

  After she finished the soup, it took her an hour to scrub herself. It had been many weeks since she had been allowed to bathe. While the castle was under siege, the water supply had been just as short as the food supply. Since then, there had been no time. Brice found herself reveling in the feeling of clean skin and hair. It had been too long.

  As she dressed in her much cleaner old clothing, she found herself wondering what Darius would think of her now. Without the smell of sweat and dirt, she might actually please him. She fixed her tunic so that white place where her slave collar had been was not obvious, but Karyn still commented on it when Brice appeared in the kitchen.

  “So you are a former slave.” Karyn set a plate with bread and cheese on the table in front of Brice and then went to pick up the crying baby from the small raised chair at the end of the table. “Once being a slave himself, Darius can be pretty touchy about the issue.” As she wiped the child’s face and hands, she sat down on the far side of the table. “How are you feeling?”

  Brice, who had been watching her hostess making quick work of cleaning the cereal coated baby, found it difficult to speak. Dropping her eyes, she examined the bread before her. “Better, thank you.”

  “Good.” Karyn rose and setting the little one on the floor, she turned to the hearth. “Trenar was not exactly clear on what happened, but I gathered you had been injured in the last skirmish and were still recovering.” Moving to the hearth, she inspected the contents of the large pot hanging directly over the flames and then the bowl sitting close by with a towel over it. “So how did you and Darius end up married?”

  Brice watched as Karyn went over to a large wooden cupboard and brought out a flour sack. She wondered how she was going to explain something she did not even understand. Karyn set the sack down on the sturdy table with a thud and small clouds of flour wafted across the wooden surface. She took a handful of flour out of the bag and began to sprinkle it across the table.

  Finally, Brice spoke. “The siege broke, my master was killed and I was trying to get away when Darius caught me.” She could still remember the terror and urgency to run and hide. The almost paralyzing fear that someone would catch her was only a thought away. She shivered. “He promised to help me, but I had to do exactly what he said.”

  Karyn nodded and a red curl came loose from her knot. Brushing it back behind her ear with an impatient movement, she turned again to the hearth. “That sounds like Darius.” Picking up the large clay bowl, she brought if to the table. “He gets bossy and overbearing, but he does know how to get things done. So, you were almost part of the spoils?”

  Brice could not manage to meet Karyn’s eyes. “Yes, I guess so.”

  “So, when did the marriage happen?” Karyn dumped a large mound of dough out of the bowl and onto the flour-strewn table.

  “As soon as we got to their camp.” Brice picked at the bread. “He insisted it was the only way to keep me safe.”

  As Karyn began kneading the dough, a small hand explored Brice’s ankle. When she glanced down, Brice found a pair of bright green eyes regarding her solemnly from under the table. Karyn spoke, “He was right. The women left undefended after a city or castle falls are considered part of the reward for the victor. But as much as he is right, he was pressuring you. Ewian tries similar tactics with me, but he seldom gets away with it.” The child below the table lifted her arms to be picked up. Reluctantly, Brice complied, gritting her teeth against the resulting pain in her ribs.

  “How do you get him to stop without getting beaten?” Brice asked as she settled the sturdy little girl in her lap. The girl pulled at Brice’s sleeve and began to sing to herself.

  “What do you mean, beaten?” Karyn asked in a shocked voice. “Has that man hit you?” She had stopped kneading and was regarding Brice with a mixture of horror and disbelief on her face. “I have never known Darius to harm a woman in his life.”

  “He hasn’t hit me.” Brice hurried to clarify. “But…” She was not sure. He was so big and powerful. Every other man she had ever known had beaten their wife or child regularly. Was it possible that this man did not?

  “But what?” Karyn had resumed the kneading and reached into the bag for some more flour for the table. “Listen to me, girl. These men have been on the receiving end of enough beatings to know how it is. That is why I trust Ewian to never try something like that with me. There is also the fact he loves me, but that is beside the point. He has been a slave and knows first-hand about the humiliation and frustration.” She turned to wash her hands. “Do you think I wou
ld willingly marry the man and have children with him if he was not trustworthy?” Her dark red brows were drawn together and the green eyes were sparkling as she looked back over her shoulder at Brice.

  Brice was surprised at the woman’s reaction. “I did not know you had a choice,” she murmured quietly.

  “Yes, I had a choice.” Karyn dried her hands and then lifted a pan off a nearby hook. “Didn’t you?” Setting the pan on the table, she started to form loaves. Brice watched her fingers coaxing the dough into smooth lumps the perfect size for the compartments in the metal sheet.

  Darius had given her a choice in the garden, sort of. He had given her a choice right before they were married. Of course, the alternatives to both decisions would have been painful and he had been extremely clear about what he wanted her to choose, but he had still given her a choice. Finally, as the last lump settled into the pan, Brice admitted, “Yes, I had a choice.”

  Karyn’s hands stilled and Brice looked up at her face. She was watching her with a thoughtful look on her face. “He will give you choices, Brice. And if you let him, I would venture to guess he will love you. He is a good man.” Then, she smiled warmly. “I am happy he has finally married and given me a companion.” Lifting the pan and turning to open the oven door, she declared. “When I am through, you will know how to be a good soldier’s wife.”

  Brice was surprised to find she actually wanted to try.

  The sky was just turning rosy above the trees. As Ewian had predicted, they were about to make their move. Darius glanced around for the fifth time in so many minutes. Scattered about the King in a pattern that at first glance did not appear planned were four others besides him. The rest of their small army was similarly arranged in random groups and trying to act casual.