Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)

33. To Kill an Undead Bird

Ondrey slumped in the saddle, though he fared better than I had expected. Anything not dead was better than I had expected. My heart went out to him. Where my heart goes, Breva's feet follow.

"Good morning," I said.

"Don't look at me with pity," came the grumpy reply. Given that Ondrey twisted his face away from me, hiding his eyes, I wasn't left a choice in the matter.

Instead of asking him if he would be more comfortable in a wagon rather than on horseback, as I intended, I asked, "How could you forgive Yadwiga?"

Evidently, an answer to this question required a survey of the trees. I spent three weeks in Nortlungen. I'd seen enough of the trees that grew here to last me a lifetime! However, he seemed not bothered by monotony at all, even enthralled.

"Have you ever seen a fir tree before, Ondrey?" My voice snapped.

"Oh, one or two!" He shook himself. "There was nothing to forgive. Yadwiga saved me for a singular task, Commander. And I ought to stay on it now, to the exclusion of all else."

I enjoyed the sight of color returning to his face, his stiff reply—less so. "How many years did she make you serve Snehora?"

"Six."

I exhaled sharply.

His smile was so faint, it was barely visible behind his curling beard. "To answer the question on the tip of your tongue, I wasn't in her personal retinue. I'm not an assassin by trade. I simply looked for and found an opening to lure her out of her seat of power."

"This one." It wasn't a question. "A brush Southerner rolling in with her sword blazing, easy to beat."

He nodded. "Once the play was on, I abandoned the pretense. I just hadn't fathomed it would be someone like you. No. I hadn't fathomed that it would be you caught in our ploy. I'm sorry."

The sky didn't turn blue. The sun remained a far away white spot in the clouds. Clopping of the hooves and a litany of curses trailed the column. But his eyes illuminated me with their blue sparkle. Alas, joy flickered away fast. Memories and blood loss were taking their toll again. And yet, there was nothing better for me to look upon than Ondrey. Trees... pah!

"There is nothing to forgive," I echoed his earlier generous sentiment.

He gave me a strange look from under the furrowed brow. "I'm only doing what was preordained. What I vowed to do."

He had a strong heart for one of his emotional sex, but last night would have been a trial for the staunchest of hearts.

I softened my voice to a whisper. "I understand vengeance, Ondrey. But what of your other vow? Why no woman in your life to lift your burden and ease your sorrow?"

"Were you born a man, Your Grandissima, is that what you would have done? Found a woman that would have consoled you and taken care of your business for you, as the world expects?"

"I would have done what you did!"

His smile didn't go all the way to the smoldering point I loved so much. The skin around his eyes remained taught and bloodless. But he was smiling. "I wish you had argued. We would have talked longer."

Breva stepped closer to Ondrey's juggernaut of a horse. "We could talk about something else."

"What about? Do you wish to hear how I don't secretly worship Bhutas?"

He tossed his head. The movement was both defiant and too sudden for his weakened condition. He swayed, but righted himself in the saddle before I caught his shoulder. He glanced at my hand propping him.