The trip

Dochia turned her head as the last houses of the city of Amsterdam vanished into the distance. She looked at Duncan through the visor of her helmet and he nodded, spurring his horse.

It was early morning and a grueling ride to Osnabruck awaited them, where they were to spend the night and rest their horses. Yet she knew it wasn't the time but guilt that made Duncan drive his horse in a frantic gallop.

She glanced at her armor and sighed, recalling her ruse ended, at least for the Hungarian court. News were traveling slow for most part and her disguise might still prove useful, so she continued to act the knight in Walachia, while in Buda she wore dresses and took part in the court life.

This is how she found Erzsbet was still alive. She seethed in anger as she remembered Duncan's lopsided, almost guilty grin seeing Erzsbet strutting like a peacock at the court in Buda. He blurted something she didn't want to hear, and she left. She knew that staying away from him will prove difficult, with them married and on a mission for the Dragon.

She cursed her weakness and the magic of December nights and spurred her horse to catch up with him. They had a fortnight to reach the settlement of Kharkiv, where they would negotiate a couple of hundred of trained mercenaries for Dragon's army. A fortnight to drive Duncan to distraction, a well-deserved payment for disobeying orders and betraying the order of the Dragon.

It was early September, with a clear sky over a rolling hills terrain. The road passed through several Hanseatic towns where they could stop for food and a short rest.

The day passed in complete silence, exactly as she planned, Dochia ignoring all Duncan's tries at conversation. Late at night they reached Osnabruck, settling for the Golden Lion inn as it could offer two separate rooms for a decent price. Duncan threaded his fingers though his red hair in frustration, and the gesture wasn't lost on Dochia. Let him stew, she thought silently, all the while her heart squeezed in her chest at the thought of the lonely hours to come. She didn't protest when strong arms embraced her in the night, followed by the most passionate apology.

As they left the Hanseatic League area and crossed into Poland, the towns became sparse.

Dochia and Duncan fell in a strained routine with silent days and passionate nights.

The vineyards of the town of Kyiv came into view, the red grapes hung among the green foliage. The travelers mostly missed the light of the setting sun reflected in the translucent small orbs.

They couldn't miss the loud cry coming from the expanse of vines on their left. Duncan turned his horse without a word, and Dochia followed.

She arrived just in time to see Duncan with his black knife at a stranger's neck. Then she looked at the bloodied body prone on the ground. She immediately dismounted, knelt near the woman's body and was relieved to hear a faint whimper. She went to clean her bruised face with the water in the leather flask tied to her belt.

"She is a whore.' the man seethed, mindless of the dirk at his throat.

His clothes suggested he was high-born but the slur in his voice, and the faint smell of brandy were telling of where he spent the night.

"Hardly a reason for you to kill her!" Dochia retorted hotly while wiping more blood from the woman's face and limbs.

Duncan pushed the drunken man outside the vineyard and pointed at the road toward the city.

"I hope, for your sake we will not meet again." he hissed and watched him heading to the city.

Duncan returned to the vineyard and helped the woman mount Dochiaís horse. The blood was cleaned, and she was crying silently.

"Can you ride? We will take you... er... home"

Out of habit, he tried to help Dochia mount her horse as the woman's bewildered look reminded him of the ruse. For everyone else's eyes Dochia was a knight, and his hands had no place around her middle.

He dropped his hands, and whispered as he left: "Erzsbet was just slightly better than a whore and as you said, it was hardly a reason for killing her."

Dochia stiffened and mounted the horse without sparing him a glance.

They rode in silence, but this time Duncan noted her furtive glances when she thought he wasn't looking.

At the city gates, the woman turned her head and whispered:

'Where I live is no place for you, my lady. Please let me dismount here; I will be fine. You and my lord saved my life today, and I am most grateful.'

Dochia froze as her cover was blown in the most unexpected way.

She signaled Duncan to stop, dismounted and explained him in shushed tones what happened.

Duncan frowned and looked at the woman. "She comes with us; we cannot risk her revealing this knowledge to anyone."

Dochia mounted behind the woman, and the group headed to the city. Duncan left them behind, went to the inn where he bought a new horse, and sent the innkeeper to buy a set of men's clothes.

He returned and asked the woman to change, and he was surprised when she asked for his dirk. Reluctantly, he handed it to her, and both, he and Dochia looked in amazement when she cut her hair short, in the manner of a local peasant. She pulled the cowl low on her brow to hide the purple bruises and winced when she mounted the horse.

At the inn Duncan asked again for two rooms, but this time Dochia followed him in his, leaving the second for their new acquaintance.

They reached the town of Kharkiv traveling again in silence by day, while awaiting the passion of the night. Only this time the silence wasn't strained but companionable, interrupted by friendly discussions in which they got to know their new companion.

And if Dochia didn't forgive yet Erzsbet for her transgressions, she didn't hold her life against Duncan anymore.