Broken Road (5 page)

“What if I loved You?”

Krystállina, already stripped down to her nightrail, slipped into Amihan’s room and threw her arms around his newly bared shoulders.

“What is this, ‘What if’?” He broke from her embrace and turned to face her. “Since when is there uncertainty in love?”

“Do You still love me?”

“I love you with every passing day.”

“Then why do You never tell me? Why do You never come to my bed? Why—”

“Have I not asked you to marry me?” he finished. “Krystállina, do you realize that we have only just escaped Thessalonica?”

“I said I’d give You a month to dec
ide whether You truly loved me.

“And we were interrupted, remember? I was hardly with you two weeks before I received the letter from my father.

“Besides, what would
your
father have said if he had caught us sneaking around? We could not have had a
hint
of impropriety!”

“We are away from my father.”

“Scarcely a month!”

Krystállina bit her lip and looked away. “I was heartbroken when I thought You’d l
eft me for Princess Aĺakána,” she admitted. “I was
never
in love with Milos; I was just willing to marry him because it would benefit our families.”

“I love you, Krystállina Óneira,” the Thunder God said at last. “Is that what you were waiting for?”

After
a moment, she turned back to him. There was a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I don’t know what it means to love a God.”

“We will handfast quietly, as I told you on that first day,” he explained. “None of the Milanese may know. As for me, I will contrive some way to hide this from my father and the other Elders.”

“And our children?”

“Our children will be demigods like Hercules and the heroes of old.” Amihan took her hands. “They will probably inherit some of my powers and live good, long lives. Shorter than mine, but definitely…definitely longer than a mortal. A hundred and twenty years. Perhaps a hundred and fifty.”

“What about me?”

He squeezed her hands. “There is nothing I can do for you, my love. I am sorry.”

Krystállina looked away again, but Amihan continued.

“If there is a secret to extend your life, it is probably on a crumbling scroll, locked tightly away in the most secret regions of Wài. Some place, no doubt, that I dare not go, if I value my title and my life.”

The young woman rose and looked out the window. “I will marry You on one condition.”

“Name if, and if I can grant it, it is yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Never stop searching for that scroll. I would be with You forever.”

Late October 1225

Amihan was in the backyard near the new sheep pens when he heard the wagon pull in. Although he was adamant that he could get them anything they needed with a short incantation or wave of his hand, Krystállina had insisted they live as simple of a life as possible. The fences, the chicken coop and the small barn where they put their three cows and two calves at night had all been constructed by Amihan’s magick, but the livestock
was acquired
the mortal way, with Krystállina making every purchase. Amihan had been anticipating the arrival of the wagon, as his fiancée was supposed to bring a dozen sheep to fill the pen, but he was surprised to hear silence from the carriage house—even more when Krystállina didn’t immediately come to see him.

~*~

“We’re ruined.” She handed him a letter. “I had to have a Greek merchant translate it for me, and I’m not entirely sure I got everything, but I
know
we’re ruined.”

Amihan sat down at the kitchen table, eyes skimming quickly over the missive. “The Pope is conducting a census of all Christians.” He glanced up at Krystállina. “I am a god and you worship me and my forebears. What do we have to worry about?”

“Whom they’re sending to conduct the census.”

“The letter says that the Holy Roman Emperor is taking care of the census in his domain. Milano is a part of Lombardy, which is under the protection of the Empire.”

“That is just a form letter!” She smacked the paper out of his hand. “The merchants told me that Milano is under the Pope’s especial consideration, so he is sending his favorite envoy. The one who also happens to be the best at hunting down
sorcerers!
”

“I have Seen days to come where witch hunts will concern unseemly women with wealth desired by the Church. If that is all this is, we will take the necessary precautions.”

Amihan rose and kissed his fiancée lightly on the cheek. “But if it will make you feel better, I will go and speak to the bishop.
He
will know better than a bunch of gossiping merchants!”

“Antonio de la Rosa, did you say?
I don’t recall ever having seen you in my flock, large though it may be.
” The bishop sat down at his desk. “And ‘de la Rosa’ is Spanish, isn’t it?”

“My mother was Spanish, but I was born and raised in Sicily, like my father.” Amihan had taken the guise and accent of a native Sicilian and knew he was convincing enough for the bishop.

“It is true that my betrothed and I have not been to hear mass the last few Sundays, but I have newly fetched her from Thessalonica…we have been busy settling in, and I am trying to teach her Italian.” He ducked his head deferentially. “I hope that we can attend this Sunday, as she has been getting better with the Latin responses.”

The bishop sat back with a small smile. “But I don’t think you came to discuss your mass attendance, Signore de la Rosa.”

“That I did not.” Amihan placed Krystállina’s letter on the table between them. “My betrothed received this in the marketplace this morning and it caused her some concern. Apparently, some Greek merchants think that the Milanese are under His Holiness’s especial sight and the census will not be left to Emperor Frederick’s emissary.”

The bishop scanned the letter to ensure that it was the same as the one he had sent. “It’s true that Lombardy—and therefore Milano—is under the protection of the Holy Roman Empire; but it is also true that Pope Honorius has…how shall I say…‘special feelings’ for Milano.”

“So it is true that His Holiness is sending his favorite envoy.”

The other man lit up like a favored nephew. “They say Giorgio Mindanelli is one of the best and brightest in the College of Cardinals; hardly succeeded to the red but four years ago!”

“Does ‘best’ and ‘brightest’ also mean ‘most likely to spot a sorcerer’?”

“Cardinal Mindanelli has escaped becoming a toad and diverse other animals more than any man I’ve ever known.”

When Giorgio Cardinal Mindanelli arrived at the estate reported to belong to Antonio de la Rosa, he didn’t find Signore de la Rosa…or a god, or a Thessalonian maiden…or much of anyone else.

“Just a band of Travellers,” Peter, the cardinal’s chief assistant reported after he and the others had conducted a thorough search of the property.

“Travellers?” Cardinal Mindanelli repeated. “Owning property?” But even as he said it, he knew he was wrong. The house was half torn apart and there were no fences or anything that indicated property lines. This band was simply passing through…and had probably looted the estate.

“No, Your Eminence,” Peter replied. “I spoke to the band’s leader, a woman who called herself Gayle. She said that the property owners left days ago and gave them everything we see in a rather complex trade. She said they’re tearing down the house to build her a bigger
vardo
, so that she can give hers to her daughter, who is getting married next month.”

“And does this Gayle have any proof of sale?”

“No, Your Eminence. It was a complex
trade
, as I said. But she
does
have some sort of trade agreement signed by Signore de la Rosa, entitling her to everything she claims.”

“We’ll have to have a talk with the bishop,” the cardinal decided. “I don’t like the sound of this Gayle.

“Tell the others to ready the carriage. There is no sense counting the Travellers on our list. Chances are, they’ll be gone tomorrow…and they began defying Our Lord the day they were born.”

~*~

While Cardinal Mindanelli was searching their former homestead, Amihan and his bride-to-be were settling into their new home in Austria. This estate was close to Vienna and quite a bit more grand than the last, causing Krystállina trouble when it came to filling her part.

“Why are we living so close to the city? If Your father has spies out to ensure that You perform Your filial duty, won’t we be more easily discovered in Vienna?”

“You have never heard of hiding in plain sight, I take it?” Amihan stopped surveying the parlo
r furniture long enough to look at his fiancée. “If Léi Shēng suspects I am hiding, he will send his people to every small town and tiny hamlet he would expect me to hide in. The last place he would expect is a grand estate in the heart of the Holy Roman E
mpire!”

“And what about the Viennese? Won’t they give us away? They’ll surely know we’re from abroad!”

“We came from abroad with a good reason.” Amihan smiled. He locked eyes with Krystállina for a moment, then the air shimmered and a gray-eyed gentleman with light brown hair was standing before her.

“I am Andrew Bestwick, Duke of Hartford,” the gentleman announced in what she suspected was English-accented Greek. “I found an exotic bride and decided that I had no ties to the courts of England, so we settled here; in the most refined empire in all of Europe.”

“And I’m your ‘exotic bride’?”

He nodded. “You were baptized as ‘Catherine’ shortly before we married and now that you have mastered English, you are slowly learning French and German—as befits the wife of a nobleman.”

“But I don’t
speak
English!” Krystállina protested. “And we’re not married!”

“That can be arranged.”

October 1225

“Are we even in Austria anymore?”

“That I do not know,” Amihan replied. He held a branch aside for his fiancée. “I just thought of the sort of place I wanted to marry you and here we arrived.”

“
Here?
In the middle of the forest?”

“Not quite. You will see in a moment. I guess my teleportation skills get a bit off when I do not know exactly where I am going.”

“Is that how You learn languages?” Krystállina asked, pulling off a glove long enough to nab a few blueberries from a bush. “By thinking of which one You want to learn?”

“It is not that simple,” he said as he stopped to get his bearings. “Remember how I helped you up the day we met? That was the instant I learned Greek.”

Krystállina frowned, wiped her hand on a few damp leaves and stuffed it back into her glove. “Skin to skin contact, then.”

“Not required, but helpful. My mother told me that it would become easier as I got older. One day, I will be able to do it through five layers of clothing.”

“Do You realize that we’ve been together since May and You haven’t said much about Your mother?” she asked as they set off again. “Would She approve of our marriage?”

“She might. She certainly does not have the qualms about mortals and demigods that my father does.”

After navigating through a particularly tricky patch of plants, Amihan added, “My mother was betrothed at thirteen. My father was already seventy-six. It was considered to be a marriage advantageous to both families.”