Read Online Beloved Pilgrim by Nan Hawthorne - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nan Hawthorne
Ads: Link
it is all mine!"
His men dismounted behind him. He turned to
Albrecht and commanded, "Boy, see to it our horses are taken care
of and provision made for my men's quartering."
Glancing over her shoulder at Albrecht,
Elisabeth saw his pressed lips. She looked quickly back to
Reinhardt, "My lord, you are of course more than welcome to
Winterkirche. How long do you plan to stay?"
Reinhardt smiled sardonically. "It talks!" He
sighed. "But have you forgotten? I am your husband. Until your
father returns, I am lord of Winterkirche."
"Damn," he breathed. He slapped his leg with
a riding crop and seemed to consider. "I will stay a fortnight,
then, and return to put my estates in order." He gave her an
annoyed look. "I suppose you cannot be ready to come with me that
soon."
"But your Grace," Elisabeth began.
A slow smile crept along his lips. "Cannot
wait that long, my love?" he said with a mocking leer. He took her
hand again and kissed it. "Christ, why are we standing out here? I
need a drink and a fire." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along
after him up the steps and into the hall.
Reinhardt strode right up to the dais at the
end of the hall and climbed and took the high seat where Sigismund
traditionally had presided over meals and court. He pushed back
Adalberta's chair with his foot. "Sit," he said. He called to the
servants who hung about in the shadows along the side of the hall.
"Here, you! Bring wine. And something to eat. Someone build up that
fire."
His men were filing in through the door,
eying the rest of the trestle tables where they were stacked
against one wall. "Oh just sit," Reinhardt called to them
irritably.
Reinhardt ordered servants to bring more
chairs and called to his officers to join them at the high table.
The wine flowed generously; the boisterous conversation belied the
fact that the household was in mourning.
Reinhardt suddenly leaned to her and asked,
"Is he buried?"
She looked at him startled. "Who?" she asked.
She knew whom he meant but the word came out anyway.
"Your brother. That sodomite. Is he
buried?"
Her face paled. She was not sure what the
word meant, but she could guess it was not a praiseworthy thing to
Reinhardt. "Yes, my lord, in the family vault in the church."
"Good," he replied shortly. "I hate
funerals." He went back to talking with his men.
It was listening to that raucous group that
told Elisabeth what had happened to Reinhardt in the Holy Land.
When she was able to break away on the excuse she had to push the
kitchen to prepare a feast for her husband and his men, she sought
out Albrecht and shared the tale.
"It seems that once Jerusalem was in
Christian hands, the Franks and the Flemings snatched up all the
estates and positions. Whatever Reinhardt thought he was going to
get it all went to others. As soon as he realized that, he set sail
for home," she whispered to him in an alcove.
"More's the pity he had no reason to stay
there," Albrecht growled.
"Albrecht, what is a sodomite?"
He stared at her, dumbfounded. At last he
asked, "Why do you ask, my lady?"
"That's what Reinhardt called my brother."
She gazed at his face. He had gone pale. "Oh," she answered
herself. "That. But how could he know?"
Albrecht shook his head. "I know not. But it
may mean I must take leave of you."
"Why?" she asked, putting her hand on his
arm.
Albrecht eyed her unhappily. "He may know
about me, too, and that sort of man is not gentle with my
sort."
At supper Reinhardt informed Elisabeth, "I
have a guest coming with his small retinue tomorrow. I had hoped to
introduce him to your father, but ah, well." He yawned. He reached
to take her hand, leaning to look into her face. "Pity I am as
tired as I am. I should like to have explored whether under all
those unattractive clothes you had a real woman hidden." He laughed
at her offended face. Kissing the hand he clutched in his fist, he
said, "Better get used to the idea, my dear. You won't be a maid
much longer."
The guest was an
His men dismounted behind him. He turned to
Albrecht and commanded, "Boy, see to it our horses are taken care
of and provision made for my men's quartering."
Glancing over her shoulder at Albrecht,
Elisabeth saw his pressed lips. She looked quickly back to
Reinhardt, "My lord, you are of course more than welcome to
Winterkirche. How long do you plan to stay?"
Reinhardt smiled sardonically. "It talks!" He
sighed. "But have you forgotten? I am your husband. Until your
father returns, I am lord of Winterkirche."
"Damn," he breathed. He slapped his leg with
a riding crop and seemed to consider. "I will stay a fortnight,
then, and return to put my estates in order." He gave her an
annoyed look. "I suppose you cannot be ready to come with me that
soon."
"But your Grace," Elisabeth began.
A slow smile crept along his lips. "Cannot
wait that long, my love?" he said with a mocking leer. He took her
hand again and kissed it. "Christ, why are we standing out here? I
need a drink and a fire." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along
after him up the steps and into the hall.
Reinhardt strode right up to the dais at the
end of the hall and climbed and took the high seat where Sigismund
traditionally had presided over meals and court. He pushed back
Adalberta's chair with his foot. "Sit," he said. He called to the
servants who hung about in the shadows along the side of the hall.
"Here, you! Bring wine. And something to eat. Someone build up that
fire."
His men were filing in through the door,
eying the rest of the trestle tables where they were stacked
against one wall. "Oh just sit," Reinhardt called to them
irritably.
Reinhardt ordered servants to bring more
chairs and called to his officers to join them at the high table.
The wine flowed generously; the boisterous conversation belied the
fact that the household was in mourning.
Reinhardt suddenly leaned to her and asked,
"Is he buried?"
She looked at him startled. "Who?" she asked.
She knew whom he meant but the word came out anyway.
"Your brother. That sodomite. Is he
buried?"
Her face paled. She was not sure what the
word meant, but she could guess it was not a praiseworthy thing to
Reinhardt. "Yes, my lord, in the family vault in the church."
"Good," he replied shortly. "I hate
funerals." He went back to talking with his men.
It was listening to that raucous group that
told Elisabeth what had happened to Reinhardt in the Holy Land.
When she was able to break away on the excuse she had to push the
kitchen to prepare a feast for her husband and his men, she sought
out Albrecht and shared the tale.
"It seems that once Jerusalem was in
Christian hands, the Franks and the Flemings snatched up all the
estates and positions. Whatever Reinhardt thought he was going to
get it all went to others. As soon as he realized that, he set sail
for home," she whispered to him in an alcove.
"More's the pity he had no reason to stay
there," Albrecht growled.
"Albrecht, what is a sodomite?"
He stared at her, dumbfounded. At last he
asked, "Why do you ask, my lady?"
"That's what Reinhardt called my brother."
She gazed at his face. He had gone pale. "Oh," she answered
herself. "That. But how could he know?"
Albrecht shook his head. "I know not. But it
may mean I must take leave of you."
"Why?" she asked, putting her hand on his
arm.
Albrecht eyed her unhappily. "He may know
about me, too, and that sort of man is not gentle with my
sort."
At supper Reinhardt informed Elisabeth, "I
have a guest coming with his small retinue tomorrow. I had hoped to
introduce him to your father, but ah, well." He yawned. He reached
to take her hand, leaning to look into her face. "Pity I am as
tired as I am. I should like to have explored whether under all
those unattractive clothes you had a real woman hidden." He laughed
at her offended face. Kissing the hand he clutched in his fist, he
said, "Better get used to the idea, my dear. You won't be a maid
much longer."
The guest was an
Similar Books
