Auriana
33rd Day of Spring
761 Karloman’s Peace
The young grey-dappled colt was hesitant, as it almost always was, to enter the stable. Ekkehard had to gently tug at the leading rope to usher the creature, step by step, back into its assigned pen, all the while whispering soft nothings to keep the animal calm. It was a slow process, one that Ekkehard had performed at the end of every day for over a year now.
Still, the task didn’t bother him much. It had been years since his return from the war, and long enough now that the shame of being labelled apostate had largely faded, at least within the confines of his homestead.
Once the creature was safely stowed away, Ekkehard set to the task of grooming the colt, brushing its fur, filling its hay, and clearing away its muck. The labour gave him time to himself, which he appreciated, and he let his thoughts wander, imagining a myriad of possible lives open to him.
Recent decisions meant that his daydreaming focused on the capital, Pavia. He pictured himself walking the sprawling city streets he had never laid eyes on before, mixing with crowds of millions in their diverse multitudes. He imagined mingling with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the empire, and perhaps even beyond, their vast array of appearances, the differences in their speech and their customs. All that set around the Great Library of Lucanus, a place he may one day call home, if Audomar agrees to his decision to seek acceptance into the Order of Seekers. The marvels that would be at his fingertips within its walls and the infinite number of histories and philosophies to study their where endless. He could not wait.
His thoughts were rarely disturbed during his chores, but today something strange drew his attention. A rustling of feet accompanied by heavy sighing. It came from just beyond the open doors of the stable. All the servants and farmhands were assigned elsewhere, his family either engaged in supervising them or tending to their guests for the day. He should be the only one at the stable at this time, and Ekkehard concluded that whoever was outside, wasn’t meant to be there.
Ekkehard made his way to stand between the threshold of the doorway and found, to his surprise, that it was a girl. No, not a girl; a young woman and a stranger.
Her back was turned to him, and he stole the moment to admire her figure. She was shapely, thin in the midriff but wide at the hips, with tall legs and flowing blonde hair so long it nearly concealed the sky-blue ramie dress she was wearing, bound tightly to her at the midriff by a leather belt. As his eyes lingered upon her rump, he noticed the floral patterns concealed within the fabric. Very nice, he thought to himself, waiting just long enough for him to feel uncomfortable before clearing his throat and alerting the woman to his presence.
Startled, she spun to face him, wide-eyed and wary. “What are you doing!” she demanded.
He had no words for her. His voice was stolen by her beguiling presence. She was exquisite, beautiful beyond comparison, with her delicate, narrow jawline like the frame of a jewelled mirror and the graceful contours of subtle cheekbones. Her skin was perfect, unblemished by the trials of youth and untouched by the ravages of age. The warm hue of her pursed lips was so enticing that Ekkehard was blind to the impatient expression they formed. But it was her eyes most of all that captivated him. The pale pools that matched her dress were deep enough to drown his very soul.
“I asked you a question!” she snapped, giving him a shove across the shoulder and freeing him from his enchantment.
“I apologize, my lady,” he said, half stuttering at first as he blushed and tried not to look at her directly. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
“You did not,” she retorted curtly. “I just did not know you were there. You should make your presence known when a lady is near, you know, rather than skulking in the shadows.”
“I was hardly skulking,” Ekkehard sniggered. “I was tending to the horses, one of my chores for the day.”
“Yes, well,” the young lady responded with disinterested politeness, turning her back on him once more, “you had best get back to it then, lest your masters become dissatisfied.”
“My masters?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking back at him with a quizzical look, “the Reubkes. The people you work for.” She turned away from him again, choosing to stare toward the Reubke manor with wistful disappointment.
She thinks I’m one of the servants, Ekkehard realized. It was no surprise; he was hardly dressed nobly in his ragged farmer's robes covered in the dirt and muck of a hard day labouring on the farm. She was probably right, though. He ought to return to his chores, but new faces were so rare on his family’s little farm, and even rarer were ones so beautiful. He wanted to talk to the enticing young woman a little while longer before returning to the mundanity of his daily life.
“If you don’t mind me asking, miss,” he said, “who are you?”
She turned back to him again, her mouth hanging a little open and her expression slightly indignant. He wasn’t sure why; servants were people too, and Ekkehard had never begrudged his the indulgence of questions. Perhaps servants didn’t take the same kind of liberties wherever the woman had come from. He thought for a second she might chastise him, but she did not, shaking her head and finally giving him her full attention.
“Nobody really,” she answered. “Just a girl. It was my eighteenth year this winter, and now my father is adamant to find me a match to unburden himself. This is the seventh farm I have been dragged to this spring.”
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“Ah,” Ekkehard exclaimed, recalling his mother’s efforts at matchmaking for his other siblings. “You’re here to meet Aldedramnus then.”
The lady snorted in response, “Yes, and what a pleasure it was.”
“Not what you were hoping for?”
She huffed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect much from any of these churls my father keeps parading me about, but Aldedramnus was particularly droll. An hour our tea lasted and he spoke of nothing but cows. Seriously, an entire hour of milk yields and feed quality. What kind of person does that?”
“Oh, how terrible,” Ekkehard mocked. “What does he think he is? Some kind of cattle farmer or something?”
“How dare you,” she gasped in return. “I am no fop I’ll have you know. But a lady must have standards and I desire more stimulating discussion than the mating habits of bison.”
“Perhaps there is simply much to be said about cows,” Ekkehard chuckled.
“Much drivel,” she replied in a huff before releasing a drawn-out sigh. “I suppose the truth is I’m just a little disappointed. With everything you hear about the Reubkes, I expected them to be a little more exciting. Imagine my disappointment to find out they are just farmers, like everyone else.”
“And what do they say about the Reubkes?” Ekkehard asked, his eyes dropping to the floor and away from the woman for the first time. Vile rumours about me, no doubt, he thought.
“Oh, come off it,” she responded in a playfully over-dramatic way. “You know exactly what I am talking about. You must do. The scheming apostates with their sadistic rituals and heinous practices.” She emphasized her words with theatrical spookiness and then chuckled to herself before her laughter trailed off into another sigh. “I thought perhaps a family with such a reputation might have something about them. I guess not.”
“Well, in their defence, it’s apostate, not apostates,” she looked at him, “Just the one,” he clarified
“I suppose that’s true,” she replied, nodding her head in agreement. “The mysterious Ekkehard no one has seen in years. They say Gader’el himself convinced the man to forsake the faith in return for a fresh virgin to ravish nightly.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Ekkehard teased, “maybe that is the real reason you’ve been brought here.”
“Oh haha, aren’t you funny,” she jeered back at him. “I do have to wonder what he is like though. I’d like to imagine the man a little more interesting than most.”
Ekkehard began to fiddle with the handle of the stable door, choosing to focus on something other than the woman as he asked his next question. “And what do you imagine of Ekkehard Reubke? If you don’t mind my asking, my lady.”
“Not at all,” she replied. She walked a few steps away from the stable and took a seat upon the stump of a tree roughly the height of a stool, looking once more toward the manor as she contemplated the question. Ekkehard followed, awaiting her answer. “I think the stories are just that, stories. Made up by the gossips and fishwives of the city. Those with nothing better to do than embellish the tribulations of others. I imagine this Ekkehard is just as boring as his brother.”
Ekkehard smiled at her answer. “I think you’re probably right about that.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “What is he like?” she asked. “You must know him.”
“Not as well as you’d think,” he replied with a chuckle.
“You must at least know why he did it?” she persisted. “I mean, I don’t exactly see a gaggle of virgins about the place so that rules that out, but it must have been something.”
Ekkehard looked to his feet. He still hadn’t ever told anyone what happened during the war, and it was a secret only he and Audomar knew. As captivating as the young woman was, he had no desire to reveal that to her, not when their conversation had been so pleasant thus far. He didn’t want to ruin that.
“Why do you think he did it?” he asked.
“I dunno,” she answered. “I suppose he must have had a good reason. You’d need one considering the way they treat apostates. The man probably can’t show his face anywhere but this estate without whispers and looks. That’s probably why I haven’t met him yet.”
She paused and Ekkehard admired the slight widening of her pupils and felt grateful that she was actually thinking on the subject rather than jumping to wild conclusions. “Maybe he just didn’t want his whole life to be laid out for him. I can understand that. Any woman can, I suppose.
“We know our roles; our family finds us a match, and we get to work making babies and then making supper. Most are just grateful that they get a choice in suitor. It’s bad enough that they pressure so many widowers into joining the Winter Women. I can’t imagine giving up the freedom a man has in exchange for a life of chastity and listening to others mewl about their problems all day every day.”
She considered her own words for a second and then nodded at them. “I think I would have refused as well. There’s something to be said for a good rebellion.”
“Like your current one?” Ekkehard asked.
“What?” she replied, taken by surprise by his comment.
“You said this was the seventh match your father had arranged for you this spring,” Ekkehard explained, “and you said as a woman you know your role. It seems to me that you are rebelling against it as much as he rebelled against the faith.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “You know, you’re a little too insightful for a stable boy. Has anyone ever told you that?” she asked coyly.
“I can’t say that they have.”
Something mischievous filled her eyes as they flicked up and down, examining him. A half-smile crept across her face, and her cheeks went a little flush as she stood up and took a few steps toward him. Ekkehard blushed as she placed a single finger upon his mouth and pressured his bottom lip, pulling it down a little.
She took his hand and led him gently, as he had the colt, into the cover of the stable. “You know,” she said, “I have a different kind of rebellion in mind for today.” His heart began to race, and he felt his body go cold with nerves as he let her pull him toward her. She pressed her back up against one of the support beams of the stable and pulled him in closer, directing his hand to take hold of her hip.
He was taller than her, by nearly a foot, and he had to look down upon her face, the shade of the stable casting mysterious shadows across her features. She stood up on her tiptoes, bringing her face tantalizingly close to his, the tip of her nose gently brushing against his. She paused, causing the moment to linger, his anxiety throbbing in his head as he longed to kiss her. For a moment, it looked as if the effect she had over him frightened her, but then a smile crept across her face, and she leaned those last few inches into him and the two kissed.
It was soft and gentle at first, but it soon turned hotter and heavier as the two fought to devour one another. His hands began to move as if with a mind of their own, and he found himself cupping her at the chest and at the rear. Her own hands wandered, slipping beneath his robes and slowly down into his smallclothes. He had never been with a woman before, and he wasn’t prepared for how quickly his body would react. Before he knew it, he was soiled. She giggled in response and pushed him away, her face prideful. His own was dumbstruck.
“Well,” she said, “it was nice to meet you.” She walked past him and out of the stable with a casualness Ekkehard couldn’t quite understand. He followed her, stumbling to reseal his clothing.
“Wait,” he called after her, “I never got your name?”
“And you won’t,” she called back to him without turning around.
“Do you not want mine?” he asked.
“Why would I?” she replied. “Would it mean anything to me?”
“It might.”
“Suddenly you’re confident are you?” she called back with a snigger. She was slowly getting away from him, and she was having to shout a little for him to hear her. “Well, go on then, impress me.”
“It’s Ekkehard,” he shouted after her, and that stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned and looked at him, her eyes wide with genuine concern. “Ekkehard Ruebke,” he finished.
“Oh,” was all she said.