truce in force. And yet during the day I thought we were not so ill-matched. She was clever and quick, and if her reading had not the breadth of mine it had more method. After all, she had been carefully taught from childhood, trained for the responsibilities that would be hers since she was a babe in the cradle.
"Of course I read Latin," she said in surprise one day when I found her bent over a medical book. "And French. And a little Greek, though I had not got much of that before I married." Her voice sounded a little wistful. "My father had no son, and I knew what I must be. He saw me well settled before he died."
"And your husband?" I asked, going about the table she worked at and sitting in a chair where she could keep my hands in view.
"He was my cousin. It was all arranged," Izabela said. Her eyes evaded mine. "He was a good man."
"But you did not love him." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Izabela smiled at me. "What is love, Captain? I was betrothed to him when I was eight and he fourteen, and we married five years later. It was a good match and it kept the peace between our houses. I could not rule Falkenau alone, and I was born in the twilight of my father's life. He knew he would not live to see his grandchildren and indeed he did not. He died when I was fourteen. How should I have held Falkenau alone, a girl of fourteen with no husband? I should have been prey for any hawk that wanted to stoop upon us. Jindrich brought the protection of his family and his name as well as his sword arm."
"And yet you are the more talented in battle," I said, remembering the defense of Falkenau. That had not been shabby for a woman still short of twenty. Beneath her pretty eyes she was better than I.
"A quirk of fate," Izabela said. She shook her head and for a moment I thought I saw tears there. "Were I a man I could defend my people and my God and would not have to look to such as you."
"True enough," I said. "But does it not stand to reason that your God has made you this way with a purpose?"
"I wish I knew what it was," she said. She looked away. "I see no reason in it, save to teach me humility."
"And have I humbled you so?" I asked. "By God, madam, not half of what I could!"
"Well I know the threat that hangs over me," she retorted.
"Then would it not be better to do it and have done?" I asked. Perhaps my pride smarted. Or perhaps it was desire. "Or is that a field in which you fear to face me?"
"I do not fear anything about you, captain," Izabela said. Spots of color appeared on her face. Her clear, translucent skin showed everything.
"Then come and give me a kiss," I said.
I expected that she would flounce from the room with a quick riposte, but she did not. Izabela rose from her chair and walked around the table very deliberately. I did not move. I did not twitch a muscle as she bent and touched her lips to mine.
There was fire. She was no timid thing, no trembling virgin scarce touched. Her husband had got two sons on her, and she had enjoyed the making of them from the way she kissed, consumingly and intemperately, as though it were a challenge with trumpets and all, as though it were she who stooped to conquer. It was I who was left breathless as she straightened, the color high in her face.
"I do not fear to meet you, captain," she said.
"Perhaps you might progress to Georg under the circumstances," I managed, thanking whatever demons owned my soul that I had nearly two decades on her in age. Were I a boy her age I should belong to her like a lap dog.
Izabela's eyebrows rose. "Should I seduce you then? Wrap you about my finger and so secure clemency for my people?"
"It is a time-tested strategy," I acknowledged.
Izabela sat down on the edge of the map table, another foot between us, which was probably a mercy. "You do not have the power to
"Of course I read Latin," she said in surprise one day when I found her bent over a medical book. "And French. And a little Greek, though I had not got much of that before I married." Her voice sounded a little wistful. "My father had no son, and I knew what I must be. He saw me well settled before he died."
"And your husband?" I asked, going about the table she worked at and sitting in a chair where she could keep my hands in view.
"He was my cousin. It was all arranged," Izabela said. Her eyes evaded mine. "He was a good man."
"But you did not love him." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Izabela smiled at me. "What is love, Captain? I was betrothed to him when I was eight and he fourteen, and we married five years later. It was a good match and it kept the peace between our houses. I could not rule Falkenau alone, and I was born in the twilight of my father's life. He knew he would not live to see his grandchildren and indeed he did not. He died when I was fourteen. How should I have held Falkenau alone, a girl of fourteen with no husband? I should have been prey for any hawk that wanted to stoop upon us. Jindrich brought the protection of his family and his name as well as his sword arm."
"And yet you are the more talented in battle," I said, remembering the defense of Falkenau. That had not been shabby for a woman still short of twenty. Beneath her pretty eyes she was better than I.
"A quirk of fate," Izabela said. She shook her head and for a moment I thought I saw tears there. "Were I a man I could defend my people and my God and would not have to look to such as you."
"True enough," I said. "But does it not stand to reason that your God has made you this way with a purpose?"
"I wish I knew what it was," she said. She looked away. "I see no reason in it, save to teach me humility."
"And have I humbled you so?" I asked. "By God, madam, not half of what I could!"
"Well I know the threat that hangs over me," she retorted.
"Then would it not be better to do it and have done?" I asked. Perhaps my pride smarted. Or perhaps it was desire. "Or is that a field in which you fear to face me?"
"I do not fear anything about you, captain," Izabela said. Spots of color appeared on her face. Her clear, translucent skin showed everything.
"Then come and give me a kiss," I said.
I expected that she would flounce from the room with a quick riposte, but she did not. Izabela rose from her chair and walked around the table very deliberately. I did not move. I did not twitch a muscle as she bent and touched her lips to mine.
There was fire. She was no timid thing, no trembling virgin scarce touched. Her husband had got two sons on her, and she had enjoyed the making of them from the way she kissed, consumingly and intemperately, as though it were a challenge with trumpets and all, as though it were she who stooped to conquer. It was I who was left breathless as she straightened, the color high in her face.
"I do not fear to meet you, captain," she said.
"Perhaps you might progress to Georg under the circumstances," I managed, thanking whatever demons owned my soul that I had nearly two decades on her in age. Were I a boy her age I should belong to her like a lap dog.
Izabela's eyebrows rose. "Should I seduce you then? Wrap you about my finger and so secure clemency for my people?"
"It is a time-tested strategy," I acknowledged.
Izabela sat down on the edge of the map table, another foot between us, which was probably a mercy. "You do not have the power to
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