Swept Away (25 page)

“Really?
That's
all you heard?”

“Christof!” Greta appeared in the doorway and rushed to the young man. “It's over, Christof!” she said, embracing him. “Praise God, it's finally over. Your father has publicly renounced Axel. You are Lord Krüger!”

Somewhere in the outskirts of the castle grounds, the agonizing sounds of a man's screams reverberated up through the spiraling stone staircases. Slowly, a beatific smile spread over Christof's face as he recognized the owner of the plaintive howl and realized what it meant.

The reign of Krüger the Terrible was at an end.

Long live Krüger the Kind.

R
owan was tied
to the cart by his neck and every limb. He was kneeling and could feel the cool wind on his face. When he looked up, he could see the beautiful blue November sky and he thought of all the days he had wasted not looking up. His knees were bruised and bloodied from the bouncing of the hard wooden cart along the cobblestone streets. He tried to focus on the sky. After spending what were probably the last twelve hours of his life in a dungeon, he decided to relish the feeling of the sun on his face.

In the distance, he could see the fifteen foot pyre. It looked like the good people of Heidelberg had thrown chairs and tables on the stack. The villagers who ran alongside the cart were jeering and throwing rotten food at him. So stunned had he been by the whole nightmare, that he only now noticed them. He watched them out of his one good eye and wondered how in the name of all that is holy they could believe what they were doing was in the name of God.

The man driving the little donkey cart twisted in his seat to look at Rowan, then spoke briefly to a nearby mounted castle guard. They came to a halt at the foot of the pyre. Rowan could see a stool jammed into the middle of it and was surprised.
At least I don't have to stand
, he thought.

One of the guards jumped down and began vigorously sawing with his knife at the ropes that bound Rowan. Rowan realized that at the rate he was going, the knife would slice into his flesh when the rope gave way. As Rowan watched the guard, wondering at the kind of man who could take such delight at causing pain, the guard startled him by suddenly looking at him, too. Then the guard's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he began convulsing, dropping his knife in the process. The crowd screamed and retreated from the donkey cart but Rowan knew what the man's seizure had to mean.

Ella!

He twisted in the cart, one hand loose, and tried to see where she was. He needed to tell her to run, to not watch this, to get out. What he saw when he turned to look behind him was a half dozen castle guards on horseback coming up fast to the marketplace from the castle. He could see their black livery, the sunlight reflecting off the silver on their caps and bridles. One man on horseback was very close and had to jerk his horse roughly away to avoid colliding with the cart. That's when Rowan saw her behind the rider in the saddle. She slid to the ground, her Taser held up and away from her as he'd taught her.

He had hungered to see her beautiful face after so many hours of worry and anguished regret. But now his heart pounded with fear at the danger she was in.

They were surrounded by guards
.

He watched her run and jump in the cart with him.

And the guards did nothing.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “It's over, Rowan,” she said.

The guards on horseback cleared the crowd of citizens away from the cart. The man whose horse Ella had jumped from dismounted and strode purposefully to the cart. He bowed to them and barked orders to the guards who had been Rowan's escorts. The donkey cart driver watched with his mouth open as one of the guards stepped over the man who had been Tased and quickly cut Rowan's bonds.

Rowan looked at the horseman who offered him his hand out of the cart and then at Ella who still hadn't let go of his neck.

“We won?” he said.

“We won, hero,” she said. “We fucking won.”

A
xel was arrested
, Krüger was scheduled to stand trial for the plot against the Prince's man and for treason against the state, and Christof was publicly recognized as his only heir. The very day that Rowan was rescued from the flames, he and Ella joined Greta at the castle to meet with the new Lord Krüger. Rowan tried to send away the castle physician but Ella and Greta both insisted he be seen.

“Can't we just click our heels together and go home now?” Rowan said to Ella as he eased himself into a hot tub, clothes and all while the physician waited outside.

“Rowan, don't get in with your clothes,” Ella said, starting to unbutton the rag that covered his upper body. “A servant brought you clean clothes to put on after you see the doctor.”

She peeled the shirt from his shoulder and gasped.

“Is it bad?” he asked. “I didn't want to touch it. Is it as bad as I think it is?”

Ella did not reply but just stared at the angry blistered brand of the letter K on his back.She felt such anger at what they had done to him, that her hands began to shake.

“You're scaring me, babe,” Rowan said. “It still hurts like shit. What is it?”

“It's the letter
K
,” Ella said softly. “Branded into your shoulder.”

“Well, that's just awesome. One great little souvenir of my truly wonderful adventure here in 16 fucking 20 Germany.” He saw her face and softened. “Hey, beautiful,” he said. “It's not that bad.”

“I can't believe how you must have suffered,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, Rowan, I was so scared for you. I couldn't imagine how I was going to live if something…if…”

“I know, babe. Me, too. It was a bad few hours. Why don't you get in here with me? You could use a bath, yourself, you know.”

She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder to the hallway where the physician waited on them, then tugged off her clothes and climbed into the tub.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. “I meant to tell you what a great rescue party you made with your boobs falling outta that top of yours,” he said as he kissed her neck. “Really gave the good citizens of Heidelberg a thrill.”

“Oh, my God, Rowan, is that what I think it is?” Her eyes were wide as her hand found his hard-on between his legs. “Not four hours after you've been tortured, beaten up and nearly burned at the stake?”

“What can I say? It takes me a while to recover.”

Without another word, she eased onto him and slipped him inside her. Both of them groaned in unison.

“Let me do all the work,” she panted, her hands gripping the sides of the bathtub while her hips moved up and down on him.

“Oh, my God, this isn't going to last long…this…” She arched her back as the waves of pleasure radiated from the exquisite source between her legs up through her diaphragm and belly. She cried out and somewhere in the back of her mind realized that the door from the hallway had opened and then discreetly closed. She climbed higher and higher, feeling Rowan's hands on her hips guiding her, driving into her, until she heard him yell and then they both collapsed against the tub side, weak and flaccid.

After a moment, she looked into his brilliant blue eyes and sighed. “What a wild ride life is with you, Rowan,” she said. “What a ride.”

He patted her bare bottom, as he closed his eyes. “Funny,” he said. “I was just going to say the same thing about you. Now if I could only get a really rare steak, a cold beer and a very soft bed for the next twenty hours or so, I'll be good.”

She kissed his battered face, picked up soap from the dish and began sudsing his chest and arms.

That night, Greta moved her band of outlaw nuns into the castle where they were to reside until their convent was rebuilt. Just before dinner, Ella and Greta walked to the castle kitchens. Ella found Heike and gave her a big hug.

“You were kind to me,” Ella said to the startled girl. “I know Herr Krüger will want to reward all who helped the convent during its time of need.” Ella turned to Greta. “That goes for Cook, too,” she said, nodding at the woman at the stove, who was still clutching her wooden spoon and looking from Ella to Greta with amazement.

“I'll make sure Christof knows,” Greta said.

As they walked toward the main hall of the castle, Greta hooked her arm in Ella's and slowed her pace. Ella could not remember a time when her friend looked happier or more relaxed.

“Sister Therese is alive,” Greta said.

“Oh, my God, that's great!” Ella said. “She survived the tower. What a tough old bird.”

“Her head wound should have received medical attention and she is badly scarred but otherwise she is fine, praise God. She will be at dinner this evening.”

“And the novice Anna?”

“That is not a happy ending,” Greta said.

“I'm so sorry, Greta. That poor girl.”

Ella wanted to ask about Hannah but hesitated. If it was good news, Greta would tell her. If not…

“There are so many good things happening now,” Greta said. “I think we must rejoice while we can. I think it is time for joy and thanksgiving. Not tears.”

“Yeah, good philosophy,” Ella said.

“Will Herr Pierce be able to dine with us tonight?” Greta asked.

“Yeah, he's good,” Ella said, trying not to blush. “No lasting damage. Well, except for that big ass K on his left shoulder.”

“Rejoice, Ella,” Greta said.

“Oh, trust me, Greta. I'm way ahead of you.”

That night, all the nuns and novices of the convent sat at the castle's main dining table with Christof and Greta at the head. For a moment, especially when she saw how Christof looked at Greta, Ella wondered if there had once been something romantic between the two. She quickly dismissed the idea. Whatever joined Christof and Greta was bigger and more perfect than an infatuation or mutual attraction. Theirs was a friendship of respect and shared faith amidst adversity.

When the first course was served, Christof had everyone's wine glasses filled. Then he stood up and asked for silence.

“To the Sisters of Mercy,” he said, lifting his cup. “And to their allies and supporters.” He waved his free hand in the direction of Ella and Rowan, who sat beside Greta. “Heidelberg Castle will always be your home, your refuge, your servant. As will I.”

Everyone lifted their cups to solemnly approve Christof's toast.

Christof set his glass down but remained standing.

“I promise everyone here,” he said, “that I will personally make reparations for every crime committed against Heidelberg's Catholics. I further vow to reverse and repair all damages inflicted on the great city of Heidelberg by my father and my elder brother, both of whom will face the executioner's blade before the month is out.”

“Probably should've stopped while he was on an upnote,” Ella whispered to Rowan.

“Personally, I thought the whole bit about the executioner's blade
was
an upnote,” Rowan said as he reached for his wine.

“To Heidelberg and all its citizens!” Christof said, lifting his wine cup again. This time, the table broke into cheers. Several of the servants waiting on the table ran to embrace the Sisters and Ella saw that tears were streaming down Greta's beaming face.

Two days later, after they had all become used to hot food and warm beds and the absence of terror in their daily round, Christof brought Greta the information she had been so anxiously hoping to discover.

It wasn't good.

Ella and Rowan walked in on the two of them in Hans Krüger's former office which now belonged to Christof. Greta was facing Christof. They stood very close but were not touching, although Ella could see Christof's hand hovering near as if he dearly wanted to. Rowan was at Greta's side in a flash and without hesitation pulled her into his embrace.

“What is it, Greta?” he said.

“It's Hannah,” Christof said.

Ella tugged on his sleeve. “You've found her?”

“She is lost,” Greta said through her tears. “She is lost forever.” Rowan held her close as she sobbed against his shoulder.

Ella could see that Christof had been weeping too.

“Dead?” Ella whispered.

“No, but as good as,” Christof said. “She was sent to Arabia.” He spoke in a low voice as if to spare Greta the pain of hearing it again.

“Where in Arabia?” Ella asked.

Rowan murmured gentle words to Greta as he held her close. He looked at Ella over Greta's shoulder and his expression said,
Don't even think about it.

T
he day
they chose to leave came soon after the nuns had settled into the castle. Rowan was anxious to get back to his world. His two week vacation had come and gone and he was hoping he still had a job. Ella knew it was time to face whatever was waiting for her back in 2012.

Their last evening together, Greta, Rowan and Ella dined alone.

Rowan wore a velvet doublet of the time but he had drawn the line at the hose and wore workman's trousers. Greta diplomatically told him he looked original. Ella told him they needed to leave before they torched him for his fashion sense. Ella wore a gown, the first time she had worn period clothing that was not a nun's habit or a pauper boy's clothes. Also velvet, it was cut tight at the waist with a neckline so low her breasts popped out frequently as she ate.

“What a pain,” she said, tucking herself back into her dress for the hundredth time. “And this doesn't drive the women crazy having to do this all the time?” she said to Greta.

“I can vouch for the men, if that helps,” Rowan said with a grin.

She laughed and looked at him. Even in just a couple of days, his bruises had turned from purple to yellow, his eye was open again and his ribs were less sore. When she looked at him, her heart felt like it was filling her up with such love that sometimes she didn't think she could bear a second more of what he gave to her.