LITMIR.BIZ

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friendship, when you have no comfort from another being. I never thought about giving a name to my horse, but since you have one for yours, I should ask you to kindly give mine a name, as well,” Gerulf spoke.

      “Really? You never named your horse? What do you say to it when you want to address it?” I asked. I patted his horse and asked, “Would you like the name Gundahar? You look as though you enjoy a good battle. Or, do you prefer the title of Frideger, which makes you seem godly?” Gerulf’s horse lifted its hoof and grazed the pebbles on the ground when it heard the second name. I assumed it preferred the title of Frideger, so I tied my braided rope around its neck and said, “I name you Frideger, the noble horse!”

      Gerulf’s eyes winked; he patted my head, and he kissed me on the lips. “Ermentrude, I have never been so entertained by anyone, as I was—watching you name my horse. For that, I thank you. Frideger it is, then! Let’s wish for long and healthy lives—ours and our horses!” I looked up at him, and kissed him back. He gathered me in his arms and kissed me several more times. I held him, standing on my tiptoes to reach his lips. He kissed my neck and ears.

      “Hmm, we must continue this later, I’m afraid,” as I noticed everyone else staring at us, already mounted on their horses. Saskia, in particular, was glaring at me. She was, no doubt, thinking that I couldn’t have chosen a more inconsiderate time for romance. They were all ready to ride, and here we were, kissing behind the horses.

      “Don’t think we can’t see you both, behind your horses,” Saskia shouted. “Ready?”

      “Um, quite ready, I think. We just named Gerulf’s horse. It was cause for . . .” I was cut off by Gerulf,

      “ . . . a celebration of thank you kisses!” Gerulf looked at me with enthusiasm. “Let’s ride, my dear Ermentrude; and see what our future holds. He kissed me again, and jumped on his steed. I rode along the side of him, thinking of the days ahead of us.

      The evening was upon us, and we had only seen a few rabbits to capture for dinner. Where were the deer? We had some provisions left, some bread and grain for porridge. That would have to suffice. Perhaps tomorrow we would find something larger to eat. There were supposedly wolves, voles, lynx, bears, and a multitude of other animals within the Carpathian Mountains, but on the slopes below, the animals seemed scarce. The climate was pleasant and warm most of the year, even in the winter, so animals were supposedly abundant. Yet, we had difficulty finding them. Did they sense that we were here to hunt them?

      We set up the tents after a fire was started. There were three tents and eight of us. We decided that Saskia and I would share one tent, and the men would have to draw sticks to decide who would share the remaining tents. Erwin and Alfons were left with the long sticks; they were to guard our camp and horses as we slept. Saskia and I felt it would be fun to share our secrets at night in our own tent.

      The night was clear and cool after the storm. We sat around the fire and spoke about the unusual things we had experienced in the past. When it was my turn, I could only say that I had witnessed the birth of a two-headed goat. Gerulf had seen Romans south of the Carpathians. Each of his brothers had seen mostly mass destruction of villages, and Anselm had been to the sea coast, collecting amber that washed up on the rocky shore. Saskia had seen wolves hunting in packs and bear cubs with their mother. I realized that I had not experienced very much in this world. I thought about what I would see and experience in the future, and on this long journey.

      The next morning, I heard snuffling outside our tent. The horses must be eager to eat their oats and ride, I thought. I looked over at Saskia’s spot, but she had left, perhaps to hunt. Why did she leave without waking me? I wanted to use her ax again. I hurried to style my hair in the usual knot, which was much easier to accomplish with the use of the polished bronze mirror. When finished, I tucked the mirror into my bag.

      I stepped outside, to look around, but I saw no one. I turned to search in the other direction, when a coarse hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my screams. I was blindfolded, gagged, and carried off to a horse; lifted, and thrown on top as though a sack of grain. My hands and legs were bound. I heard men yelling in the distance, above our camp, followed by other voices. Then, there was silence. Fear swelled in my head and my heart. My stomach writhed as snakes in a pit. Again, I heard muffled sounds of someone in pain. He or she was within a few feet of me.

      “Saskia!” I tried to say, but couldn’t, with the gag binding my mouth. I was in trouble, and I knew the others were also in danger. I tried to wriggle, but I was tied to the horse. Sick from not eating much the night before, I didn’t dare vomit, or I’d choke and suffocate. So I waited, impatiently, on the horse. I wondered if it was Brunhilda or Frideger.

      I was terrified. Who had captured me? What had happened to Saskia? Where were Gerulf and Anselm? Why hadn’t Erwin and Alfons warned us of intruders? I wanted to scream again. I shivered with perspiration evaporating from my body in the cool morning air. The horse began to move—my body bounced along on its back. Where was I being taken? Were the others being taken as well? Oh, gods! Please save me! Strike these cruel men with your hammer, Punaraz! These heathens must be struck by the gods I call upon to save me. Where are your swords? I called to every god I knew for help, but none saved me.

      I heard men speaking in a language that was different from ours. It was not Gutan, my language. They were laughing and speaking loudly to each other. They seemed to be walking, as I heard their footsteps. They most likely weren’t from any of the tribes that I knew. Of course, I was not familiar with many tribes, due to my limited experiences. I decided to scream again, to see what would happen. Perhaps someone would speak to me, and I could hear their words better.

      “Huuuuuh!” I screamed in a muffled tone. “Huuuuuuuh!” again, I screamed, until finally, someone spoke to me, saying,

      “Quiet! You are loud!”—and smacked me on my bottom hard. I was offended, but I stopped screaming immediately. They continued walking beside me, if I planned to scream again, for I could hear their heavy breathing.

      Later in the day, as I was counting, so I could judge the time, I heard two men talking, although I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I also heard another muffled sound coming from somewhere near my horse. I wondered if this was Saskia trying to scream or get attention. All I knew was, I needed to empty my bladder. The motion of the horse was making it more urgent by the minute. I hoped whoever it was, would allow this simple necessity. Hours seemed to go by, before my horse stopped. Rough hands untied me from my horse and released my feet and hands. The blindfold and gag remained.

      I was guided into a forest or a group of trees close to a river off in the distance. I could hear water gurgling, which made me want to void my bladder. I lowered my trousers, removing them and stooping down, as if to sit, with my feet spread apart, relieving myself—I hoped, not on my boots. I tried to pull my blindfold down off my eyes, but a hand grabbed mine. I was handed some leaves instead. I hoped they looked the other way. I was a bit modest as a young woman.

      I redressed and the person guided me back to the horse saying, “Eat!” . . . handing me some bread. It smelled wonderful and tasted delicious. My stomach settled a bit. I drank some water from a wooden cup that a man touched to my lips, which gave me relief from thirst. I drank more water and ate more bread, until I was satisfied. We were allowed to rest and digest the meal for a while, standing or sitting in the coolness of something that provided respite from the hot sun.

      “Move along!” a man said to me, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me into a standing position. They lifted me back onto my horse and bound my hands and feet again; tying me onto the horse. I didn’t struggle this time, as I felt they would be abusive if I tried to get free. I heard someone else being lifted and tied up, as well, only they struggled and growled at being restrained. Whoever was standing near them, thumped them hard. The once struggling person stopped their movement and growling. I hoped it was Saskia. She was a fighter and a biter. If she had been captured and subdued without her weapons, it would have been after much resistance. I rode on my abdomen, on top of a horse, for a long time that day, thinking of such a struggle.

      I could feel the cooler air; the day seemed darker through the blindfold. Would we stop for the night? The probing of

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