Now I Rise
Page 21
She lifted her chin. “That is none of your concern.”
Hunyadi laughed. “Spoken like a true leader,” he said in Hungarian.
She met his gaze and he gave her a slight nod, something fierce and proud in his eyes. She saw how he sat straight, even while relaxing with his men. He was still in charge, still slightly apart. She mimicked his posture. She was their leader. She did not owe them explanations. Especially not for traumas of the past.
“Wait,” Petru said, concern pulling down his features and making him look like a puppy. “Did you kill Bogdan, too? Is that why he is gone?”
Lada sighed in exasperation. “No, I did not kill Bogdan. But I might kill you if you act out that stupid arrow-through-the-eye death one more time.”
Bogdan found them.
How he tracked them down Lada did not know. But the next week he walked into camp with a grin so giddy she could not understand how his blocky features managed it. Lada ran to him.
Her first impulse was to throw her arms around him. Her second was to hit him for taking so long. Instead, she stood in front of him, glaring at his beloved stupid face and his beloved stupid ears and his beloved stupid self. “Where have you been?”
“I brought something you need.”
“More men?” She looked behind Bogdan, but only one person followed him. And that person was not a man. She walked with solid assurance. Her long hair trailed down her back in a braid, showing off two ears sticking out like jug handles.
“Lada!” her old nurse said, rushing forward and embracing her. Lada’s arms were pinned to her sides by the woman’s hug. How Bogdan had found his mother, Lada could not begin to fathom. But he was Bogdan. He stayed loyal to the women in his life.
Lada looked at him. “Why did you bring her?”
“To help,” he said, shrugging. “You needed someone who could help you with … girl things.” He paused, blushing. “Woman things.”
Lada clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together. “I do not need anyone’s help with anything.”
“Where is your brother?” the nurse asked. “He should be here. I thought you would take better care of him.”
Anger flared. Who was this woman to tell Lada how to take care of Radu? The nurse had not been there in Edirne. She had not seen what they had gone through, what Lada had had to do to survive. “He is coming,” Lada said through still-gritted teeth. She extricated herself from her nurse’s arms.
“Let me brush your hair,” the nurse said, reaching for Lada’s snarls.
The sensation made Lada feel like a child again. She stumbled back, flinging her hands up to deflect the woman’s touch. “I do not need a nurse!”
“You said the same when you were five. But at least your hair was presentable then.”
“Take yourself to the devil,” Lada snapped.
Bogdan looked hurt, but her nurse just laughed. The woman’s eyes shone with something. Mirth or affection, neither of which were tolerable to Lada. Worst of all, Hunyadi was sitting nearby, watching the whole encounter.
“Where is my cloak?” she snapped, yanking clothes out of her saddlebag.
“Let your nurse help you find it,” Nicolae teased. He and Petru were sitting at the campfire. Had no one missed this spectacle? What had Bogdan been thinking?
“She is not my nurse!”
Petru shrugged. “You are lucky. I wish I had someone to take care of me. Maybe I should find a wife.”
“Maybe you could marry the nurse,” Lada spat out.
Giving up on the cloak, she threw herself onto her horse and left camp. They had moved from the location of the slaughtered Janissaries and were working their way toward the capital. The increasingly frequent sections of frosted farmland made Hunyadi’s hands twitch. When asked where they were going, he would merely shrug. “The castle.” It sounded like a foreign word when he said it.
Today, though, they were in a heavily forested section of the countryside. They had not seen another soul all day, but that did not mean they were alone. Lada scanned the trees as a matter of habit, one hand always on her sword.
The trees were as bare and cold as the air. The sun was overhead, but all it did was blind her. How could something be so bright and give so little warmth? After so long in the temperate climate of Amasya, she had forgotten what winter felt like.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to be back there. No! she screamed at her traitorous heart. She did not mean back in the empire. She meant back at camp. Around a fire, with her men.
The nurse would be there, lingering, hovering, much like a fly that buzzed incessantly, but at least a fly Lada could swat. She did not need another woman. She did not need to be taken care of. That woman was not her mother. Her own mother had fled to her home country of Moldavia when Lada was four. That was what mothers did. Nurses, apparently, were more dependable. And embarrassing.
Hunyadi pulled his horse alongside hers. “It might be good to have someone to help.”
“I do not see your nursemaid following you around, combing your hair.”
Hunyadi ran his fingers through his thick auburn locks. “I would not object!” His tone softened. “All leaders need help. Let someone do the mundane tasks so you can focus on the bigger ones. Surely Mehmed does not do anything himself.”
Lada rolled her eyes. “He has a man whose only role is to follow after him carrying a stool.”
“Does he even clean his own ass, I wonder?”
Lada grimaced. “Why would you put such an image in my mind?”
Hunyadi laughed loudly. Then he settled more deeply into his saddle, sighing happily. “This is a beautiful part of my country.”
“It reminds me of the forests outside Tirgoviste. I used to make our tutor take us out there to study. The castle was an oven in the summer and an icebox in the winter. I always suspected the architect was a cook.”
“Do you miss it?”
Lada frowned as she followed the trail of a dark bird across the pale blue sky. “Miss what?”
“Tirgoviste.”
“I never cared for Tirgoviste. I prefer the mountains.”
“But you still want the throne.”
“I want Wallachia.”
Hunyadi huffed a laugh. “Is that all?”
“It is far less than what Mehmed—” She stopped, biting off the rest of the sentence. How dare he slip out of her mouth uninvited.
Hunyadi laughed. “Spoken like a true leader,” he said in Hungarian.
She met his gaze and he gave her a slight nod, something fierce and proud in his eyes. She saw how he sat straight, even while relaxing with his men. He was still in charge, still slightly apart. She mimicked his posture. She was their leader. She did not owe them explanations. Especially not for traumas of the past.
“Wait,” Petru said, concern pulling down his features and making him look like a puppy. “Did you kill Bogdan, too? Is that why he is gone?”
Lada sighed in exasperation. “No, I did not kill Bogdan. But I might kill you if you act out that stupid arrow-through-the-eye death one more time.”
Bogdan found them.
How he tracked them down Lada did not know. But the next week he walked into camp with a grin so giddy she could not understand how his blocky features managed it. Lada ran to him.
Her first impulse was to throw her arms around him. Her second was to hit him for taking so long. Instead, she stood in front of him, glaring at his beloved stupid face and his beloved stupid ears and his beloved stupid self. “Where have you been?”
“I brought something you need.”
“More men?” She looked behind Bogdan, but only one person followed him. And that person was not a man. She walked with solid assurance. Her long hair trailed down her back in a braid, showing off two ears sticking out like jug handles.
“Lada!” her old nurse said, rushing forward and embracing her. Lada’s arms were pinned to her sides by the woman’s hug. How Bogdan had found his mother, Lada could not begin to fathom. But he was Bogdan. He stayed loyal to the women in his life.
Lada looked at him. “Why did you bring her?”
“To help,” he said, shrugging. “You needed someone who could help you with … girl things.” He paused, blushing. “Woman things.”
Lada clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together. “I do not need anyone’s help with anything.”
“Where is your brother?” the nurse asked. “He should be here. I thought you would take better care of him.”
Anger flared. Who was this woman to tell Lada how to take care of Radu? The nurse had not been there in Edirne. She had not seen what they had gone through, what Lada had had to do to survive. “He is coming,” Lada said through still-gritted teeth. She extricated herself from her nurse’s arms.
“Let me brush your hair,” the nurse said, reaching for Lada’s snarls.
The sensation made Lada feel like a child again. She stumbled back, flinging her hands up to deflect the woman’s touch. “I do not need a nurse!”
“You said the same when you were five. But at least your hair was presentable then.”
“Take yourself to the devil,” Lada snapped.
Bogdan looked hurt, but her nurse just laughed. The woman’s eyes shone with something. Mirth or affection, neither of which were tolerable to Lada. Worst of all, Hunyadi was sitting nearby, watching the whole encounter.
“Where is my cloak?” she snapped, yanking clothes out of her saddlebag.
“Let your nurse help you find it,” Nicolae teased. He and Petru were sitting at the campfire. Had no one missed this spectacle? What had Bogdan been thinking?
“She is not my nurse!”
Petru shrugged. “You are lucky. I wish I had someone to take care of me. Maybe I should find a wife.”
“Maybe you could marry the nurse,” Lada spat out.
Giving up on the cloak, she threw herself onto her horse and left camp. They had moved from the location of the slaughtered Janissaries and were working their way toward the capital. The increasingly frequent sections of frosted farmland made Hunyadi’s hands twitch. When asked where they were going, he would merely shrug. “The castle.” It sounded like a foreign word when he said it.
Today, though, they were in a heavily forested section of the countryside. They had not seen another soul all day, but that did not mean they were alone. Lada scanned the trees as a matter of habit, one hand always on her sword.
The trees were as bare and cold as the air. The sun was overhead, but all it did was blind her. How could something be so bright and give so little warmth? After so long in the temperate climate of Amasya, she had forgotten what winter felt like.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to be back there. No! she screamed at her traitorous heart. She did not mean back in the empire. She meant back at camp. Around a fire, with her men.
The nurse would be there, lingering, hovering, much like a fly that buzzed incessantly, but at least a fly Lada could swat. She did not need another woman. She did not need to be taken care of. That woman was not her mother. Her own mother had fled to her home country of Moldavia when Lada was four. That was what mothers did. Nurses, apparently, were more dependable. And embarrassing.
Hunyadi pulled his horse alongside hers. “It might be good to have someone to help.”
“I do not see your nursemaid following you around, combing your hair.”
Hunyadi ran his fingers through his thick auburn locks. “I would not object!” His tone softened. “All leaders need help. Let someone do the mundane tasks so you can focus on the bigger ones. Surely Mehmed does not do anything himself.”
Lada rolled her eyes. “He has a man whose only role is to follow after him carrying a stool.”
“Does he even clean his own ass, I wonder?”
Lada grimaced. “Why would you put such an image in my mind?”
Hunyadi laughed loudly. Then he settled more deeply into his saddle, sighing happily. “This is a beautiful part of my country.”
“It reminds me of the forests outside Tirgoviste. I used to make our tutor take us out there to study. The castle was an oven in the summer and an icebox in the winter. I always suspected the architect was a cook.”
“Do you miss it?”
Lada frowned as she followed the trail of a dark bird across the pale blue sky. “Miss what?”
“Tirgoviste.”
“I never cared for Tirgoviste. I prefer the mountains.”
“But you still want the throne.”
“I want Wallachia.”
Hunyadi huffed a laugh. “Is that all?”
“It is far less than what Mehmed—” She stopped, biting off the rest of the sentence. How dare he slip out of her mouth uninvited.
