Timestruck (15 page)

In response to her words he took her hand and
kissed it.

“You ought to go to bed,” he told her. “We
leave at dawn.”

“I thought you’d want – I mean – I thought
tonight – after this morning -” Her tongue stammered to a halt.

“Oh, I want,” he said. “More than you know.
The problem is a lack of time. I still have to meet with Arno for
several hours and give final instructions to Hedwiga and to three
or four other people.”

“I wish I knew more about running a place
like this, so I could help you.”

“Thank you for that. I think you need your
sleep.” His hand brushed softly against her cheek. “I used you hard
our second time this morning.”

“I didn’t mind at all,” she said, grinning at
him. “I enjoyed it. Very much.”

“Oh, God help me. God help us both.”

He caught her to him in a crushing embrace,
holding her till she was breathless. Then he kissed her so long and
so thoroughly that it was almost as if he was making love to her
all over again. Standing there in the twilight with both of them
fully clothed, the intensity of Dominick’s passion was
mind-boggling. Gina half expected him to pull her into the trees
and take her there. She wished he would. Instead, he released her
abruptly.

“Good night, Gina.” He walked away from her
so fast that he was almost running, and he disappeared into the
wing of the house where Arno’s office was.

“Dominick,” she whispered, fingers at the
lips he had just bruised with his passionate kiss. “You talk about
feminine wiles? What about the masculine wiles you are using on me?
I’m sure you know I can’t resist you. Why do I have this awful
feeling that you are going to get both of us killed before you’re
done?”

They left Feldbruck at dawn, as Dominick had
commanded, and rode north with the Alps at their backs. Gina was
again mounted on Cela, and since she still hadn’t learned anything
she needed to know about taking care of a horse, she was glad to
see Benet and two other grooms riding along with their group and
leading the pack horses. Harulf was at the head of eight brawny
guards, all of them well armed.

As for Gina s lack of riding skills, she
didn’t have time to worry about that. Dominick was in a hurry, and
Cela, apparently inspired by her equine companions, was moving far
more quickly than on their first ride together. Gina just held on
as best she could and hoped she wouldn’t fall.

“The stream that runs through Feldbruck flows
into the River Inn, which empties into the Danube,” Dominick
explained as he rode beside Gina. “That’s the route Pepin and
Father Guntram are using, along the waterways. It’s a longer
journey, but easier for Pepin. They can travel by boat part of the
time, and where they must ride, the roads are better, with more
places to stop at night or if the weather turns bad. Rain and cold
always make Pepin s back and legs ache.”

“So we are taking the quicker and less scenic
route?” Gina asked, a little breathless from the effort to stay in
the saddle.

“Straight overland to Regensburg,” he
replied. “A rougher but more direct path.”

“And you are making us travel as fast as
possible because you plan to arrive a couple of days before Pepin
does.”

Dominick didn’t respond; he simply gave her a
long look she couldn’t interpret.

When Gina had first reached Feldbruck, the
trees and undergrowth were arrayed in soft, springtime shades of
green and gold. In the weeks since then the landscape had blossomed
into the full density of lush summer, and the fields displayed
healthy crops almost ready for the early harvest. Gina had never
seen so many shades of green.

When their company left the open farmland and
entered the forest, the thick, leafy canopy above provided cool
shade from the sun. Firs added a more somber note of dark green,
along with a resinous fragrance that reminded Gina of Christmas.
They were riding through a fairytale landscape of deep shadows and
sudden, sunlit clearings, and of rushing streams that provided all
the water they required for themselves and their animals. Only
occasionally did they pass a settlement, and rarely did they meet
other people.

“I have seldom been away from Feldbruck,”
Ella confided to Gina, “and never to Regensburg.”

“Neither have I been there,” Gina said.

“Aren’t you excited? We will see the king!
And they say the queen is the most beautiful woman in the
world.”

Gina recalled Pepin’s unflattering comments
about Fastrada’s character. “Beauty must be the primary requirement
for the job,” she said.

Unlike Ella, Gina wasn’t looking forward to
meeting either the king or Fastrada. After asking a lot of
questions over the past few weeks, she had figured out that
Charles, king of the Franks, was the famous Charlemagne. She had
learned about him in eighth grade, and, if she remembered
correctly, he had a reputation for being a benevolent ruler. In
light of what she knew about the scheme to remove him from his
throne and young Pepin’s involvement in it, she tried to hold on to
that thought.

The first night out from Feldbruck they slept
in the forest. The men-at-arms built a big bonfire, which Ella said
was to scare away wild boars. Gina hoped the fire also kept any
lurking woodland outlaws at bay. She was relieved to notice that
the men-at-arms were taking turns at sentry duty, though not so
pleased to hear Dominick say he would also stand guard during a
watch. She had hoped to have some private time with him.

They ate the cold meat, cheese, and bread
that Hedwiga had packed for them and shared a couple of skins of
wine. After a long day of riding the simple fare tasted almost as
good as one of Hedwiga’s hot feasts.

Gina had never slept under the stars before.
She decided camping out was fun, especially after Dominick finished
his watch and, while the others slept, lay down next to her, put
his arm around her, and let her use his shoulder for a pillow. She
drifted into slumber with his lips against her forehead.

They were off again early in the morning
after a breakfast of leftover bread and water from a nearby stream.
Gina began to wonder where they would find their next meal. She
needn’t have worried. Dominick knew what he was doing. In late
afternoon, just as it began to rain, they reached a wide river.

“It’s the Isar,” Dominick told her. “That’s
Landshut on the other side, where there is a monastery. We can stay
in their guesthouse for the night.”

“And say a prayer in the monastery church for
the sun to shine tomorrow,” Gina added from beneath the hood of the
heavy gray cloak Hedwiga had found for her to wear. As she peered
though the downpour, she could see a bridge just ahead of them. “At
least we won’t have to ford the river, though I don’t think it
would make much difference. I couldn’t be any wetter if I waded
across.”

Dominick laughed at her remarks and rode on
ahead. Gina followed him over the bridge and through the monastery
gate into a courtyard with a stable on one side and a guesthouse on
the other. The monk who met them and whom Dominick

called by name guided the travelers into a
stone reception room, where charcoal braziers provided a warmth
that quickly dried their damp clothing.

Gina was so grateful to be out of the rain
and near the heat that she didn’t even mind the pervasive smell of
damp wool and unwashed bodies. When she stretched out her hands to
the charcoal, she saw that her nails could use a scrubbing with
soap and a stiff brush. So could her knuckles. Somehow, the grime
wasn’t unimportant. She smiled ruefully, accepting that she was
growing used to the inconveniences of the eighth century. She could
bear inconvenience, so long as she was with Dominick.

The monks gave them hot vegetable stew and
brown bread for their evening meal, and Dominick made arrangements
to take along bread and cheese when they left the next morning.
From what Gina heard of his conversation with the prior, she
understood that he regularly made large donations to the monastery
and thus was entitled to food and lodging whenever he came that
way.

After two days in the saddle Gina was
grateful for the narrow, hard bed in the little cell that she and
Ella shared. She was so tired that she only missed Dominick’s
warmth beside her briefly before she fell into a deep sleep.

Since leaving Feldbruck they had been
following a path with enough wagon ruts in it that even Gina could
recognize it as a regularly used road. From Landshut they left the
road and struck out directly north through deep, trackless forests,
where the trees dripped the remains of yesterdays storm onto their
heads and shoulders until all of them were as wet as if it were
still raining. In fact, the sky had cleared in early morning, and
whenever they came to a break in the trees, the sun shone through
the mist, making the very air glow with golden light, as if the
forest were enchanted.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Gina murmured. It
was nearly midday, and Dominick had called a halt for eating and a
chance to stretch their legs. He was standing next to her because
the rocks and the ground were too wet for sitting. “I expect to see
fairies pop out from behind every bush.”

“In this part of Bavaria there are ancient
legends about spirits of the trees and the waters,” Dominick said.
“Not to mention tales about the Norns.”

“Who are they?” Gina asked.

“The Norns are three immortal sisters who sit
beneath a great ash tree, forever spinning the threads of the lives
of individual men and women into the ropes of fate.”

“They really messed up the thread of my fate,
didn’t they? I guess they spun it into the wrong section of
rope.”

“Or perhaps they made a mistake the first
time and then corrected it,” Dominick said, his gaze holding hers.
“I am certain of one thing, Gina. No mysterious, supernatural
creature could possibly be more captivating or more magical than
you.”

“I hope you mean that.” She looked into his
eyes and saw only warmth and desire, with none of the questions or
mistrust she sometimes noticed in him.

Abruptly his mood shifted to humor. “I warned
you the journey would be difficult,” he said, teasing her.

“Dare I hope it’s almost over?” she asked,
teasing back.

“Three more days and nights, if the weather
holds,” he answered. “During this journey we will travel even on
Sunday.”

“I can endure it,” she said, smiling a
little. “Can you?”

His answer was a low, sensual chuckle that
stirred a dangerous warmth deep inside her. It was amazing how he
could warm her heart with a look or a word or a quick touch that no
one else saw. It was almost as if he was using the journey as a
means of slowly seducing her. If that was his intention, he was
succeeding.

Nonetheless, by the time they reached the
road that led directly into Regensburg, Gina was heartily sick of
being on horseback and more than ready for a long, hot bath,
followed by a long, hot night with Dominick.

The road curved, and they came out of the
trees onto a wide, cleared swath of land. There before them lay
Regensburg and the Danube.

“It really is blue,” Gina said, surprised by
her first sight of the river. “I didn’t expect the town to be so
large,” she added.

“It has to be,” Dominick said, “to
accommodate all the people who are obligated to follow Charles from
place to place. Everyone from the queen and her ladies and the
royal children, to Charles’s closest advisors, to the teachers and
students of the palace school, the counts who are presently in
attendance at court along with their families and retainers, the
scholars, physicians, bishops and ordinary priests, men-at-arms,
cooks, seamstresses, and servants. They all come to Regensburg when
Charles decrees it, along with the usual camp followers,” he
finished, glancing at her as if to see how she would accept the
last item in his long list.

She was about to say that she’d never
understand how any woman could do something so unpleasant for a
living, when it struck her like a thunderclap that she no longer
thought of sex as unpleasant. With Dominick, it was wonderful. She
stared at him with her lips parted, and what was in her thoughts
must have appeared on her face, for she saw his eyes widen. He
moved his horse nearer to hers and leaned toward her.

“Later,” he murmured. Then he nudged his
mount and rode ahead to join Harulf, who was awaiting him with a
question.

Feeling the need of a cooler subject to
contemplate, Gina turned her attention from Dominick to the town
they were approaching. Almost all the houses were built of creamy
stone, and their red tile roofs were steeply slanted. There were
lots of gardens; nearly every house in Regensburg had one. She had
learned enough under Hedwiga’s tutelage to recognize cabbages,
lettuces, the leafy tops of carrots and beets, and several kinds of
herbs.

A strip of young trees was planted along the
river’s edge for shade, and here and there she could see docks
extending into the water with a few boats tied up at them. Men and
women in bright clothing hurried along the dirt streets or gathered
on the docks to watch the boats unloading. It was a colorful,
attractive scene.

On a hill just a short distance from the
river rose a large church dedicated to St. Peter, with two tall
square towers and door arches that Gina noticed were curved, not
pointed like later Gothic arches. The palace, which was close by
the church and built in the same sturdy architectural style, was
simply stupendous. It dominated the town. From what Gina could see
while riding along, the palace was a series of connected buildings
of differing heights, of towers and gateways and long colonnades
that were open to the river breezes.

She was surprised to learn that Dominick kept
a house in Regensburg, with a few servants always there to maintain
it and see to his needs when he was in residence. It was a clean,
orderly house in a quiet neighborhood near the river. Gina was
given her own private room next to Dominick’s. Ella was to sleep in
the female servants’ quarters, and she seemed content with the
arrangement. Gina wondered if Ella harbored plans to spend as many
nights as possible with Harulf. Since Gina intended to spend her
nights with Dominick, she couldn’t criticize Ella for doing
something similar.