The Lady Bornekova

by Sara R. Turnquist

  Lenka shifted the pillows, and reached for a cloth, dipping it in the warm water. Then she began cleaning Karin’s face.

  Karin moved under her mother's ministrations but was too slow to consciousness. She did not open her eyes while he remained in the room.

  The maidservant soon returned with a cleaned knife from the kitchen. Lenka paused to make eye contact with the young man.

  He nodded and took his leave.

  Only then could Lenka give her full attention to her work.

  * * *

  Once Pavel was in the hall, a manservant appeared. Where had the man come from? Pavel was only vaguely aware of the happenings around him. He thoughts were on Karin. Would she be well? How badly was she injured?

  Pavel stifled a yawn. The physical and emotional exertion had caught him. After questioning Luc, he had remained in Hradec Kralove. He just couldn’t leave. Not without making sure she was safe. And then he had found her in their place. How he had wanted to reach out to her.

  He almost had. But then Stepan had appeared. Now he thanked God that he had been watching over her, otherwise... Pavel did not want to think what might have happened had he not intervened.

  "I have prepared a bath and acquired fresh clothes for you." The manservant indicated that Pavel should follow him.

  He wanted to remain. But it would serve Karin better for him to clean up and return. Then the physician may be done.

  Pavel nodded, stepping toward the servant. The man led him to a room nearby. Would this be his accommodation? After Karin's warning, he had only dared hope to speak with her parents, convince them to care for her well-being. How could he have thought the Countess would open their home?

  His thoughts had only been for Karin. He hadn't even considered when or where he might find respite, a place to lay his head. In his room was a steaming bath. At a glimpse of the warmed water, he became all too aware of his body's aches.

  The manservant moved to assist him to disrobe and, though he did not do so often, he allowed himself to be helped.

  As much as his body longed to continue soaking in the warm water, he did not permit it. He lingered only long enough to ensure he was clean.

  And he stood, rushing the servant along as he dried and helped Pavel into clothes. He found it difficult to force his trepidations down. How was Karin? Had she awakened?

  No sooner had the manservant finished, then Pavel was out his door and back at Karin’s.

  A servant girl came from the room. He caught her attention.

  She looked at him, but then lowered her eyes quickly. Had he halted her from her charge?

  "Can you tell me how the Lady Karin fares?" Pavel attempted to keep his voice low and calm.

  "She is awake, my lord. The doctor has just arrived.”

  "Thank you." He had hoped the doctor would be almost done with his examination. The weather was to blame. Rain creating mud and puddles, obstacles for horse and carriage alike.

  The servant girl returned with clean strips of cloth and entered the room.

  Pavel took a step. Would he trespass on Karin’s bedchambers while she was examined? Was his concern for her so great? He paused; he must keep her privacy in tact.

  As he turned away, Pavel heard the clunk of the door latch. That was odd. Why would they latch the door? He would ensure no other would attempt to intrude.

  He stepped to the door, tracing fingers along the rough wood. And he heard Karin's voice. First as guttural moans and groans, but soon it became more clear expressions of pain.

  His eyes widened. Must they injure her further? Should he go to her aid?

  A scream tore through the hall. His hand landed on the latch. But it was for naught. The door would not budge. He was locked out.

  Why would they have done this? Pavel thrust his hand against the door.

  Her screams became more intense.

  Pavel banged both hands against the door. Was something terrible happening to Karin? What brought her such pain?

  "Karin!"

  His cries were met with muffled screams. He threw himself against the door. “Let me in! Karin!”

  A hand landed on his shoulder. He spun to find himself face to face with the earl.

  When Pavel turned and met the earl's eyes, the older man took a step back. Were Pavel’s eyes so intense? His movements so aggressive?

  "She is all right," Karin’s father said, meeting Pavel’s eyes again. "We must trust the physician."

  Pavel twisted away from the earl's gaze, chest heaving with emotion. He dipped his head. This would not do. Calm. Pushing down the emotions rising, filling his chest, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

  Karin’s father was right. On edge since the meeting with Luc, he had feared the worst. Of course the healer would not hurt Karin. As he had seen, Karin's mother would not let harm come to her daughter. He let out a long breath.

  "Pavel," the earl spoke, his voice gentle. Was there some semblance of sympathy in his eyes? "There is nothing we can do for her right now."

  Pavel's gaze drifted between the earl and the door. But Karin’s father was not correct in his assumption. There was something he could do for Karin. Bowing his head and folding his hands, he began to pray. It did not matter that the earl could hear his mumbled whispers. The man stood, quiet and still, while Pavel pled to God for Karin's well-being.

  An hour passed before they heard a sound at the door. How long had he waited and prayed out here? Surely he had lived days in the hall. The sound of the bar lifting was unmistakable.

  The door swung open.

  A portly, balding man with a rounded nose and small glasses made his way out of the room, speaking to the Countess.

  Karin’s father and Pavel were fairly crowding the doctor.

  The physician met the earl’s gaze. He halted his conversation with Karin’s mother. "My lord, it is always a pleasure. Even if the circumstances are not ideal."

  "Agreed, doctor."

  The healer opened his mouth to continue, but then set eyes on Pavel.

  Pavel hardly noticed. He attempted to peer past the doctor and the countess, and into the room.

  "This is Pavel," the earl explained. "A trusted friend. You may speak freely in front of him."

  The mention of his name brought Pavel back to awareness of the people in front of him.

  He nodded toward the physician, grateful for the earl's words.

  "I set the injured bones and wrapped them. The Lady must be immobile for the next two weeks. We may have a better idea at that time as to when she can return to normal activities. Keep her warm, lest she catch cold and further complicate her progress. And see to it she is fed well. She has neglected herself."

  The doctor's gaze no longer moved between Karin’s parents, but rested on the countess. "When she wakes again, she will be in pain. Encourage her to drink as much of the herbs in a tea as she can. That will ease her discomfort."

  Karin’s mother nodded.

  "Thank you, doctor." the earl’s words were more confident than Pavel would have expected. How concerned was he?

  "We appreciate you coming with all due haste." The earl’s shoulders relaxed. Was he thusly relieved then? To hear that Karin would be well?

  Karin’s father shifted his attention to the countess and Pavel. Was this an opening to ask any questions of the physician? Pavel had none.

  The countess did not respond either.

  "Come, doctor, I will show you out."

  The doctor nodded. Bowing but slightly to the others, he then moved after Karin’s father toward the stairs.

  The countess and Pavel were alone.

  Pavel's eyes were focused on the bed, straining to see anything he could in the dimness of the bedchambers. Could he go to her? Allow his eyes to confirm what the doctor had said—that she was indeed well?

  But this was not his house, and it would be inappropriate for him to rush into her bedchambers unbidden. So, he stood, poised as if he were a caged cat prepared to jump at the first s
ign of freedom.

  The countess moved a step closer to Pavel. Could she sense his turmoil?

  "Pavel," she spoke, her voice soft. "I am sure your presence would only strengthen her. Please, sit with her."

  He met her gaze, nodding before he stepped into the room.

  Karin’s mother followed Pavel inside, keeping a step behind as he approached the bed. She touched his arm and pointed to a chair nearby.

  A maidservant swept through the room, clearing out Karin's soiled clothing and the cloths used to clean her body and wounds.

  "Sharka," the countess spoke to her, "You may leave those. Please station yourself just outside the room, and keep the door open."

  Pavel's was intent on Karin's resting figure, or perhaps he would have thanked the Countess for permitting him some privacy while protecting Karin's reputation.

  "If you need anything, just ask," the Countess said.

  But he was not truly listening. He almost did not take note when she took her leave. Was she, too, bound for a warm bath and the comfort of her bed?

  Karin slept. She appeared to be in a deep, peaceful rest. The screams from earlier echoed in his mind. Was it possible those sounds came from this sleeping beauty mere moments ago?

  Had she been bathed? Her skin shone bright. It also betrayed the abrasions from the attack she had endured.

  Red-blonde hair, still damp, appeared a shade darker. It splayed on the pillow, framing her face and delicate features all the more. After their separation and his fear for her life, the last two days had seemed surreal.

  Now that they were together, it all came crashing down on him. Hot tears stung his face, but he did not bother to wipe them away. His hands ached to touch Karin, to confirm that she was not just a vision. But if he reached out to her, would the spell be broken? And so, he sat by her side, caught in indecision as the minutes passed into hours.

  * * *

  Stepan's footfalls crunched on the gravel. His steps bore him closer to the prison. Would he actually go in? He paused. What did he hope to gain?

  Glancing at the structure only steps away, he reflected on his deicion to come. But he had to know. What was the truth? Everything he thought he knew had been a lie. Karin, Pavel, his mother…

  Raising a hand, he knocked on the door. Shuffling within was his answer. Soon after, a man opened the door. Not the Constable. One of his deputies?

  His eyes were glazed and he appeared confused. Had Stepan’s knock awakened him?

  "I need to see one of the prisoners." Stepan’s eyes held the man’s. How would he be received?

  "Do you not know the hour?"

  "I do. And I apologize, but I must speak with—"

  The man folded his arms across his chest, rising to his full height. He was a rather intimidating picture. "And who are you that I should make such an exception?"

  A fire lit in Stepan. This man may be large, but he would not be put off. He could not. "I am the son of the Viscount Vlastik Dvorak. And you, sir, will let me pass." He stepped forward until his features were surely in the candlelight from within.

  The deputy glared at him. But could not refuse. After a moment, the man moved aside.

  Once within the confines of the jail, the man’s eyes narrowed. "And who, praytell, are you to disturb?"

  "Luc Reznik."

  The deputy gave him a long look before leading Stepan farther in. To the back of the prison and down a set of stairs, the man went until they reached a lone door in the depths of the building.

  Stepan glanced within. A figure lay on the opposite side of the cell, resting. The deputy opened the door and let Stepan pass, a heavy clange sounded behind him as the way was resealed.

  As Stepan approached Luc, he stirred, shifting in his sleep. Was he awake?

  Luc rubbed his face and then turned toward the intrusion. He had not been treated well. Marks on his face indicated that he had been the brunt of someone’s anger.

  A thickness filled Stepan’s chest and his face heated. But he tried to not let it show. He was here by the deputy's mercy, after all.

  “Come back for more?” Luc’s voice was ragged, weak. But he spoke with more confidence than one would expect. Could he not see Stepan? The cell was rather dim.

  “It's me—Stepan."

  "Stepan?" Luc said, unsure. Had his memory been affected? Or was he so surprised to see his one-time friend?

  "Yes."

  Luc rose and turned toward Stepan. "Why are you here?" His voice caught. Was he fearful? Did he think Stepan had come to hurt him?

  Stepan frowned. "I have to know the truth...about my mother."

  Luc dropped his head. Would he not tell?

  "Please, Luc. I…I have to know."

  Luc glanced at him. His eyes darkened. What went through his mind? Was that sadness toward Stepan? Did Luc feel sorry for him?

  Stepan would not have it. He continued to hold Luc’s eyes. Would that communicate that he was not pitiable?

  "What do you want to know?"

  Stepan raised his chin. "Everything."

  Luc sighed. "I will tell you what I know.”

  That was all Stepan wanted—answers.

  Raising a hand to touch his forehead, Luc winced. Had he opened a cut?

  Stepan watched, noting the fresh red on Luc’s fingertips.

  Luc shrugged. Did he care so little? Then he began, “Your mother wanted Karin dead. I do not know for what reason. Our…relationship was built on demands. She did not readily share information with me."

  Stepan searched his memory. As she was taken, his mother screamed that she would not share her position. Had his mother suspected Karin to be his father's mistress? Certainly not.

  "She...” Luc paused. Was he deciding if he should continue? At length, he sighed again. As if somehow resigned. “She found out...something...about my family—a secret that must remain hidden. And if I would do as she bid, she would remain silent.”

  Stepan could not pull his gaze away. Did Luc speak true?

  Luc continued, “I did not know what to do. And I chose poorly. It was a choice between my family or a girl who meant nothing to me.” His head hung again. “But it was more than that. I bartered with my soul."

  Stepan nodded. Would his mother go to such lengths?

  "Under her direction, I sawed through the wheel joints of the carriage, which is why it went over the cliff, almost taking Karin and Pavel with it. I loosened Karin's saddle and put the burr underneath to cause a horse accident. And, as you know, I was told to stab her in the night.”

  The recounting of these events made Stepan’s skin crawl. How could his mother be so heartless? How could Luc agree to such actions?

  “All of this was planned by the Viscountess. And executed by me... for that, I know I must be punished.”

  Stepan eyes widened. He had wanted the truth, said he needed to hear it, but had he been ready for it? How could the mother he loved so dearly be so depraved?

  "And what will become of you?" Stepan’s words were softer than he would have thought.

  "I will stand trial in the next couple of days and be sentenced. They will punish me, but I will not be hanged since..." His words trailed off.

  "Since they have my mother." Stepan met his eyes once more.

  Luc nodded, averting his gaze. Did he feel bad for Stepan?

  Stepan's gaze, too, shifted downward. What would become of his mother?

  * * *

  Pavel awoke with a start. He jerked to attention, prepared to fend off the attack he had been resisting mere moments before. Looking around, he found himself in bedchambers. He was safe. It had all been a dream.

  His back ached, his shoulders stiff. How long had he been leaning over in an unnatural position? Perhaps hours. The rather uncomfortable chair had been his place of vigil as he watched over Karin. Turning toward the head of the bed, his eyes once again sought her.

  Green eyes met his gaze.

  "Karin!" He fell to his knees, hands seeking one of hers. How
long had she been watching him? How could he have fallen asleep? He had intended to sit with her for some time and then retire to his assigned chambers. But he had been reluctant to do so. It had been impossible to part from her.

  "You should be in bed," she croaked.

  "I could not leave you." His kept his voice soft. "I was worried."

  Karin searched his eyes. There was more in her thoughts. What were they? Would she share? She licked her lips. Was she parched?

  "Water," she rasped as she shifted to sit. She cried out.

  "Still yourself!" Pavel slipped his arms beneath her shoulders, lowering her down with as much gentleness as he could muster. "You must not try to move."

  The servant girl Sharka stepped out of the shadows.

  Pavel met her gaze. He had forgotten she remained to chaperone. Guilt filled him. She had been kept from sleep.

  Sharka filled a small glass and moved to Karin's other side.

  Pavel nodded. "Let's raise her."

  With great care, he raised her torso while the maidservant propped pillows behind her back.

  Karin bit her lip. Was she trying to keep from crying out? The discomfort was written all over her face.

  When Pavel released her weight onto the pillows, they both let out a breath.

  She smiled at him before Sharka brought the cup to her lips. Karin pulled in the water in long sips. Then she leaned back, closing her eyes.

  "I will wake the Countess," Sharka said, moving toward the door.

  "Let her rest," Karin called after the girl.

  Sharka halted. "I was instructed to alert her the minute you awoke."

  "There is no harm in waiting until morning. See," Karin said, tilting her head in the direction of the window. "It will be dawn in a couple of hours. Give her that much rest. I assure you, I am well enough."

  Sharka hesitated.

  "Could you prepare the lady some of the tea the doctor left and perhaps some broth?" Pavel spoke with more firmness.

  "And some bread from the kitchen." Karin matched her tone to his.

  "Of course." Sharka still seemed unsure of her decision. At last, she nodded and stepped toward the door once more, leaving both of the doors to the bedchambers open.

  Pavel reached tentative fingers forth to caress Karin's face and moved a stray hair from her forehead. "How are you truly?"