An Arranged Marriage - 21

     Ilona awoke under her red quilt, listening to the whisper of rain.  She dressed quickly and hurried outside.  Fires sputtered as women tried to make a hot breakfast.  At the far end of the courtyard was a forest pavilion with a roof and no walls.  Several people gathered there.  Ilona trotted across the ground, her shoes splattering mud on the backs of her legs.

     Horst was standing by a table, studying a map.  Multiple scouts were giving their reports.  Horst looked up and greeted Ilona.  “Only fair you should hear this, too,” he said, returning his attention to the maps.  “We’ve lost Detlef.”

       Ilona gasped.  “What do you mean?  Is he okay?”

     Horst answered calmly, his eyes as deep and unfathomable as the sea.  “Derwald men have scattered into the forest, meeting your suitors and putting them through series of tests.  A band of our men were taking Detlef to Lidanah, to have him speak on behalf of a prisoner held unjustly, but the viscount’s guard took him captive.”  Horst made eye contact with a red-capped man.

     The red-capped man took up the narration.  “The guard caught us on the road and attacked without provocation.  They are as wicked as their master.”  His eyes crinkled in admiration.  “You should have seen Detlef fighting with us!  He was a wildcat of a warrior!”  Then his face grew serious.  “He’s been thrown into Lidanah’s dungeon, where the evil viscount continues to test his integrity.”  He spat on the ground in disgust.

      “I would rather not leave any man to the mercy of the viscount – especially not Detlef,” Horst said.  “You heard Knut’s tale of how he rescued Zita, our little wanderer, from the mad wolf.  She is safe in her bed, thanks to him.”  He nodded at the red-capped man.  “See if we can put a plan together to get him out of the dungeon.  We owe him that much.”

     Mad wolves?  Fighting guards?  Evil viscounts?  Dungeons?  Ilona clenched her hands and tried not to cry.     

     Horst cleared his throat.  “Now for the others: There’s another man doing quite well, too.  Red-faced boy…doesn’t talk much.  But he has some good metal.  Not to be overlooked.”  He ran his finger over the chart.  “The one they call ‘Emil,’ however…”

     An image of the handsome blonde man flashed through Ilona’s mind.

     “He’s a rotten scoundrel.  Took a bribe and made an unjust decision to save himself from discomfort.  Also quick to spout poetic compliments whenever he thinks it will help him get his way.  I don’t see much in him to admire…except for the fact that he is an excellent swordsman.”

     Ilona felt as if she had been slapped.  “Emil isn’t like that,” she protested.  “He has always been very courteous to me.”

     Horst lifted his head and gazed at Ilona, his eyes piercing through her.  “Why do you suppose that is?”

     Ilona opened her mouth and then shut it again.  She had known when her papa’s ball began that men would court her favor for selfish reasons.  But Emil, she thought, was different.  Her mind raced through every interaction she had with him, trying to find something to offer as proof of his indifference to her position.  Something with which she could convince everyone – including herself – that she had not been blind in her initial attraction.  But she found nothing.  Had even Emil’s attentions been an act?

     Tears came then.  And Ilona turned and ran.