The Lady Bornekova

by Sara R. Turnquist

  She searched his eyes. What did she seek? "Weary and pained. But thankful...so thankful, Pavel. God has been gracious."

  "Yes, He has." Pavel's voice broke.

  And I ask, Father, that You continue to sustain us through the trials ahead. There may be even greater obstacles to overcome, but Pavel did not wish to worry Karin. For now, she was safe, and that was all that mattered.

  "You seem tired." She tried to reach up and graze his chin with the back of her hand but fell short, grimacing from the effort.

  He caught her hand and held it to his face.

  "Do not worry yourself so, my lady. I am perfectly content as I am."

  How long did they remain as they were, gazing at one another? Pavel was unsure. But they were together. A great burden had been lifted.

  Footsteps drawing nearer broke the spell. Sharka had returned with the tea and broth. Setting the tray on the stand by the bed, she prepared to feed Karin.

  "Allow me," Pavel said, reaching for the bowl.

  "Pavel," Karin admonished him. "I would prefer you return to your rest."

  "Let me ensure you get something into your stomach, and then I will go. I promise."

  Pavel spooned broth into her mouth.

  Karin swallowed it, closing her eyes. Was she so calmed by the warm liquid?

  He continued to feed her until the broth was gone. Then he helped her sip the tea until it, too, was gone. She leaned back on her pillow. Her green eyes seemed brighter.

  Sharka took the empty dishes away.

  Pavel stroked the side of Karin's face, allowing his fingers to graze her hair. Her eyes slid closed and she leaned her head in the direction of Pavel's caresses.

  He shifted the pillows behind her, maneuvering her back down to a more comfortable sleeping position. Leaning over her, he pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Sweet dreams."

  Pavel rose, pulling his torso to a standing position. He could not deny the weary protests of his body. Assured Karin was resting, comfortable, he decided he should go. Resisting the urge to touch her again, he pulled himself from her bedchambers and toward his allotted room for the remainder of the night. As he threw himself into the bed for sleep, he rested in knowing that he would dream of his beloved.

  * * *

  Karin opened her eyes. She was sore all over. As she glanced around, she took in the faces of the small gathering. Pavel, as well as her parents, were nearby. What words were passed between them?

  Mother sat on the edge of the bed and Father took a chair nearby.

  "Katka." Mother stroked Karin’s face. "We were so worried."

  A tear escaped Karin's eye at her mother’s tenderness. "I am sorry I gave you cause for concern."

  "It is all right now. You are safe."

  Karin nodded, keeping her movements slight.

  "What caused you to become injured?" Father’s eyes were difficult to read.

  Mother opened her mouth. Would she protest? But she stilled her lips.

  Karin's gaze shifted between her mother, father, and Pavel. How much should she tell her parents?

  "Will you excuse us, Pavel?" Father said, rising and moving between her and Pavel. Had he misinterpreted her hesitation?

  Pavel met Father’s eyes, his blue orbs shone with determination. She did not believe he would leave willingly.

  "No," Karin said, her voice firm. "He stays."

  Silence filled the space between them all as tension thickened between the two men.

  "I apologize," Father said, his words seeming forced. "I only thought of your comfort."

  Pavel moved closer to Karin.

  "I understand. But there is nothing I can say that Pavel cannot hear."

  Mother nodded. "We understand that now. Please do tell us what happened." She was ever the peacemaker between Karin and Father.

  Karin’s eyes met Pavel’s. If only she could pull what strength she needed from him. She did not want to revisit those memories, but her parents needed to know what had transpired between she and Stepan.

  Pavel slid a hand forward, capturing one of hers.

  It was enough for her to gain confidence. She recounted her last hours on the chateau grounds and Stepan's maddening attack on her life. Her parents would have to agree this nullified any arrangement of marriage made.

  "It seems Stepan returned to his senses." Father spoke at last.

  Karin’s eyes widened. She struggled to find a response. It was true, but had her father not heard everything else she said?

  "Perhaps," she said, hesitation in her voice. "However, I will not marry him."

  "You...what?" Father rose, an edge to his voice. "Karin, this civil unrest will end soon. This Hussite uprising will not last. Then things with the Viscount and Stepan must be made right again."

  "Be that as it may, Father, I cannot allow you to barter with my future."

  Father’s face reddened. "You are a headstrong girl, Karin! You have grand ideas about love. You will need your family, too. Trust me, you do not want to turn your back on us now."

  "That is not my desire. But I will do everything in my power to resist if you force me to marry Stepan." She pushed every bit of firmness into her voice.

  Mother stood, stepping in front of Father before he could respond. "I think Karin is quite tired, lord husband. Shall we discuss this after we have let all of what she has told us settle in our minds?"

  Father’s eyes moved to Karin. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Was he preparing to argue further? In the end, he seemed more ready to listen to Mother’s words. Perhaps he was more practiced at it. Either way, his anger waned enough for him to turn his back to Karin and storm from the room.

  Mother threw a sympathetic glance toward Karin before following Father.

  * * *

  "Stubborn girl!" Petr said, swearing, as his wife escorted him into her cabinet.

  "My lord husband, I plead with you not to be so harsh. She has been through much these last few days."

  Petr’s eyes caught hers. They were darker than she had seen them. "Yet she refuses to see reason. You know as well as I, she will not change her mind once it is set."

  "A trait I know all too well," Lenka dared, offering her husband a small smile.

  Sharka opened the door. “My lady, did you call?”

  “Yes, I would have you bring some refreshment.”

  Lenka watched her husband as he shifted, turning his back to the servant girl lest she see his anger. She hoped against hope that a break in the strong, emotion-driven words, a chance to take some deep breaths, would calm him. And then he might see reason, and compromise.

  However, as Sharka left, Petr’s words were no longer as harsh or loud, but they had just as much emotion.

  Petr turned back toward his wife after the door closed, and spoke in an even tone. "If she wants to ruin her life on this pursuit of the Hussite life, I cannot stop her. Nor, apparently, can I change her mind. Maybe I should turn her in to the next patrol that knocks on our door. Maybe they can straighten that crooked thinking of hers."

  Lenka worked to cover her reaction, but it was difficult to stop her words. "You cannot be serious! Turn in your own daughter?"

  “We have sheltered her from the consequences of her actions for far too long."

  Lenka saw in her husband's eyes that he meant what he said. Her breath to caught in her throat. Dare she speaka against him? Rail against his form of justice? It would be futile. He had spoken, and his word bound her.

  She bit at her lip to keep her words of protest in.

  Petr crossed the room and out of her cabinet, leaving her to her thoughts and fears.

  * * *

  Pavel sat on the edge of the bed next to Karin and slid an arm around her shoulders.

  "You were brave,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

  Her lip trembled. Was it her father’s words that stirred so many emotions? Or his actions? Perhaps both. As he searche her eyes, he saw that, while anger lay at the surface, there was confusion and hurt
underneath.

  "All will be well." He pulled his arm out to cup her face and shifted his body to face him.

  "No. My father is set against my future. Against us."

  "He only wants the future he planned for you. A safe future." Pavel softened his voice and touched her hair.

  "He refuses to understand. That future can never be. How can I make him see that?" Tears welled in her eyes.

  "I do not know.” He took her hands in his. “But, I do not know how long it is safe for us to linger. The country is being divided up, and we are not in an area friendly to Hussites."

  "What will happen if we are found?" Her eyes displayed the concern within. A concern he shared. But he had to be strong. For her.

  "I do not want you to worry. Set your mind on your recovery. As soon as you are well enough, we must make our way into Hussite-controlled territory. It will not be an easy journey, I fear, and I cannot imagine how we will go except as man and wife." He squeezed her hands, his eyes still on hers.

  "Are we to pose as a married couple?" She arched a brow.

  "No, Karin,” he raised a hand to touch her cheek. “I mean to say we are to elope."

  "Elope? But I thought..." Her brows furrowed.

  He shook his head. "Many things have changed since those things were spoken. This is the only way for us now."

  Karin's confusion melted into happiness. Then something else passed across her features. Was she saddened that the union would not be celebrated by family and friends? But this was truly the only way. Would she give all of it up for the to be with him?

  She threw her arms around him.

  Pavel drew her closer with care, careful of her injured ribs, and kissed her.

  Awareness struck him. They were not chaperoned. He pulled back with great reluctance.

  "There are preparations I must make," Pavel rose and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  Karin nodded, reaching for his hands one more.

  He slid them into hers.

  She squeezed them, gazing into his eyes. Much was there in the depths of her green orbs. But he must go.

  He tugged and she released his hands. Then he stepped toward the door and out into the hall, leaving her with her thoughts.

  * * *

  The hope of becoming Pavel's wife had been renewed. How long ago was it that she and Pavel had dreamed of marrying—a dream dashed by her father’s plans for her to join with the house of Dvorak. Karin had been so devastated, but this, too, seemed a lifetime ago. Now, the dream had new life and new hope. She and Pavel were taking their futures into their own hands. No interference from her father.

  Knocks on the door brought Karin back to the present.

  "Come," she called. Had Pavel forgotten something? Did he have news already?

  The figure that stepped through the door was not Pavel, though. It was her mother. She entered the room with solemn face and downcast eyes. Was something amiss? Her mother never showed so much emotion. Was she troubled?

  "Mother?"

  She rushed toward Karin, falling on the bed next to her and taking Karin's hands in hers. "Karin... My katka."

  Were those tears in her eyes?

  "Mother?" Karin's voice rose.

  "Your father is angry. He says he will not protect you from the patrols.”

  “Patrols?”

  Groups of Royalist guards seeking out Hussites and Hussite sympathizers."

  Karin's heart beat faster. Patrols seeking out Hussites? Why? To what end? This was a time of war. And, as Pavel had said, they were not in Hussite-controlled territory.

  "If they come, you must renounce that you are a Hussite," Mother pled. "That is your only hope."

  How could she respond? She did not want to upset her mother further, but she was determined she would trust God. Taking a deep breath, she caught her mother’s eyes. "I will not lie. It isn’t that I am not afraid...I am. But I cannot lie about who I am. I will not.”

  Tears slid down Mother’s face. "Then they will take you! And I do not know what will happen to you, my katka."

  "It will be all right, Mother. Trust me. Trust God. He is on our side. I will pray He will soften Father's heart."

  Mother sniffled. "I fear your father is as stubborn as you."

  * * *

  Karin stared out the window at the familiar grounds of her parent's estate. This was her home, wasn’t it? It had always been. But the new situation with her father, it would no longer be. Her chest ached. The thought of never returning to this place was…difficult to take in. But she would have a new one. With Pavel. Perhaps not made of stone and wood, but of the heart.

  Taps on the door sounded across the space.

  “Come.” She had given up trying to guess who it may be.

  Pavel stuck his head through the narrow opening in the door. His eyes swept the room. Was he seeking someone? Or ensuring they were alone.

  His gaze rested on her and he smiled. Then he stepped into the room and crossed to her, seating himself in a chair next to the bed.

  Karin continued to gaze past him and out the window.

  Pavel remained silent.

  She wanted him to. Why wouldn’t he speak? Was he letting her dwell in her thoughts for a few moments longer?

  "Something has disheartened you, Karin," he said after allowing several moments of silence. "Tell me."

  She knew full well what Pavel's response to her news would be, but she was not sure she was ready for what it meant.

  Karin met his eyes, determined to share what her mother had disclosed. "Pavel,” she started slowly, measuring her words. “There are patrols looking for Hussites. Mother informed me that my father will not protect us if they come. Rather, it is his intention to turn us over."

  Pavel's eyes darkened. "Then we must leave before dawn. Are you well enough?"

  Karin nodded, tears filling her eyes. Would she ever see her parents again? As much as Father could anger her, she did not wish to part on such terms and live the rest of her life in a damaged relationship. Father, please find a way to heal our broken fellowship and bring peace between us...somehow...someday.

  "We must travel light," he warned. "Take only what you absolutely need. My parents will help us once we reach Tabor."

  Karin nodded. The sadness still thick in her.

  Pavel offered her a smile, placing a hand on hers. "At least we will be together."

  "And that is all I need."

  Chapter 14

  Danger

  A mist fell over the fields around the Bornekov home. The rolling hills had been a cherished playground for a young girl, all the more so when it came time for her to learn to ride her first horse, practicing a trot, then cantor, and finally gallop, conquering each in turn. And on this dark, damp night, hoofbeats once again fell in these same meadows.

  The sound breaking through the field was not the joyful noise generated by the play of a child, but by the clanging of men in dark uniforms—men with a purpose, men with a mission.

  They slowed, approaching the large structure looming ahead. This was but the next stop on their list. These men were chosen for this task not because they savored the weightiness of their orders, but because they respected the call of duty. It was not that they were ruthless men by nature, but they would obey their orders or die trying.

  As they neared the entry, they pulled their horses to a full stop. The leader among them was the tallest, most intimidating of the brood. He dismounted first and approached the door. His fist landed on the oak of the door in a loud boom three times. It would be a few minutes before a shaken servant answered the door, but one would come. Watching, their leader stepped back and drew his sword partially out of its sheath, just enough so the metal gleamed in the moonlight. They waited.

  The servant who answered the door was like all the others—night shift, robe pulled on in haste, half open, and a candle, shaking, betraying the unsteady hand of its bearer. As he opened the door wider to take in the scene, he almost dropped the candle at hi
s first glimpse of the tall, uniformed guard with his weapon at the ready, surrounded by a half-dozen other such men still mounted on their horses. But he dared not slam the door, as he had most certainly seen the royal insignia on the uniform.

  Their leader always seemed to enjoy that part of the exchange a little too much. He lowered his voice a few notches below his normal tenor.

  "Bid your master come to receive us. We have come on an errand from the king."

  The servant tripped over himself backing into the house. Was he so determined not to turn his back on the man with the sword? Though the officer did not use any words indicating immediacy, the servants always took the display of the weapon to mean just that.

  The other men dismounted and moved to secure their horses, as it would take a little longer for the master of the house to be roused and made appropriate to receive messengers from the king. But, come he did, with all due haste a man of his station could afford, circumstances permitting. The earl was able to disguise however intimidated he might have been. The nobility was well-practiced in this.

  "Gentlemen," the earl said, as he arrived at the door. He, too, was in his night shift and robe, but in much better presentation. "To what do I owe this distinguished honor?"

  "We have come to search the premises for Hussites."

  * * *

  Karin had not been able to sleep. The argument with her father was too fresh on her mind. What would he think when the house awoke and found them gone? Would he ever forgive her?

  Lord, mend our broken relationship. Soften my father’s heart and guide me. It is not my wish that a rift exist between us.

  What would the journey hold for she and Pavel? What dangers would they face as they traversed hostile territory? Oh, Lord, be with us. Keep Your mighty hand on us.

  Her gaze moved about the room. Would she ever see these bedchambers again? Or roam these grounds? This place was as familiar to her as her own reflection. And she would miss it. The people, the servants, the halls and rooms she could maneuver blindfolded, and mother… No, it would be best if she not linger on that thought.