The Animal Kingdom, Part Thirteen
When her lap was full of the red-speckled leaves, Wilf backed off a few steps and sat down to watch. Katerina patted him, and stroked Lochinvar’s muzzle. She held her hand out to Anders. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. He squeezed his hand once and then put the first of the bitter medicine into her mouth. It was just as she remembered her cheeks and tongue contracting against the acrid juice. It seemed to dry out her sinuses. And just as before, within a few minutes, she could feel the shadows lifting, the world shrinking back to comfortable proportions. It was like a long awaited reunion with her twin sister, a sister who was really just herself. She laughed as the phrase occurred to her, and she said it out loud: “It’s good to have me back.”
No one had heard her laugh in many weeks. To Anders it was one of the great sounds of his life, like boots on new snow or the creak of a bridle, like pennywhistle music carried on the wind from a distant carnival, or rain on the barn roof. It left the past behind, like the ashes of a cook fire. It made the present an oasis and the future an adventure. It was the voice of every optimistic thought; it was the music of hope.
He helped her to her feet and hugged her.
She hugged him back, his arms so strong and gentle and impossible; holding Anders she thought of the rough, loveless embrace of Torvald. And she knew precisely what she had to do. Once her head was clear the thoughts came so easily. She couldn’t involve Anders, she couldn’t put him at risk. It would just be her and Wilf and Lochinvar. She knew instinctively that she couldn’t speak to them directly any more, but it was all right. She was part of the animal kingdom now, and no part of her own.
The group made their way back to the castle, keeping up a good pace. Wilf was sore and he rode on Lochinvar, behind the princess, his head resting on her shoulder. Katerina didn’t want to be late. Total compliance to the will of her husband was essential, at least for tonight.
Then it would be over.
Most of the preparations for her departure were already complete by the time she returned. Her room was devoid of carpets and furnishings, her clothes were folded into big trunks, all except for the ceremonial gown required for the night’s dinner. She dressed with the help of two maids, and gave one of them her mother’s earrings to deliver to the King’s chambers. The dowry had to be complete when it was presented.
She was beside Torvald when the King arrived at his place at the table. She spoke brightly with Torvald and with his mother, seated to her left. She was charming but modest; even when helping Torvald choose the proper fork for the salad course. Everyone noticed the change in her. The King was beaming – his instincts had been correct, after all. The married state was all she needed, along with one night in the marriage bed. Women only wanted to seem complicated. They liked to keep an air of mystery about themselves, but they were as coarse and predictable as any man. He could imagine making such a comment to his late wife. She wouldn’t argue with him, she never argued with him, but she had a way of cocking one eyebrow in sardonic inquiry that made him feel like a garrulous clown. Well, yes –- she was an exception to the rule, and no, he had never fully grasped her spirit, never really understood her. But Katerina was simpler. The last few days had proved that.
At the end of the meal, he presented Torvald with the chest of jewels. There was a lot of talk of “plighting her troth” and the binding together of the two families “in peace and war” – a telling phrase, Katerina thought. Her father had always deployed his resources – up to and including his daughter’s future – to maximize military security. The thought would have made her angry and bitter a few days before. Now she found she had a detached admiration for his long range tactical thinking. Only by such ruthless calculation could a King secure the safety of his kingdom. It made perfect sense, now that it was his kingdom and not hers. He really wasn’t such a bad man, when you weren’t at his mercy.
Torvald took the key on its chain and slipped it around his own neck. The chest was handed to him, the ceremonial bows and cheek kisses were exchanged … and it was done. Torvald took her to the specially prepared wedding suite, at the other end of the castle from her old chambers.
Torvald undressed them both and began his efforts anew. This time Katerina cooperated. She had nothing to lose anyway. Both her virginity and her innocence were already gone. And she had everything to gain: Torvald’s trust, which would let him sleep the sleep of the satiated and the self-righteous … and thus, her own freedom.
Freedom, the one thing her father had said she would never have.
Because she would never be willing to pay the price, that was the unstated message. He hadn’t been able to imagine any one wanting anything but this, and so he hadn’t been able to imagine how impossibly cheap that price would be for her in the end -- less than a few coins thrown at a beggar in the street.
It was nearly midnight before Torvald was sleeping deeply enough, and snoring loudly enough. Katerina dressed quickly in her travelling clothes and delicately removed the key on its chain from around her husband’s neck. He stirred slightly when her hands were under his head and she had to wait a full minute before she finished. She took the chest, and a small travelling bag of essential items.
She paused at the door, looking down at Torvald’s sleep-slack face.
For the last time, she thought with a small smile as she chewed at gryphillaria leaf. She had no regrets, no sense of loss, no last minute confusion of purpose. If anything she was surprised by how easy this all was. She had been in a cage for years and had never bothered to see if it was locked. They had told her it was locked and she had believed them. What a fool she had been! All she’d ever had to do was swing the door open and walk away.
So she did. She slipped out of the room and closed the door softly behind her. Wilf joined her in the yard. He watched as she got Lochinvar ready and arranged the saddlebags. Then they rode to the gate together. The guard was surprised but he had no orders to keep her inside –- no expected her to be leaving.
She was crossing the fields beyond the town when she heard the pounding of hooves behind her. Someone was riding hard and fast, following her track. She thought of trying to out-run them, but for some reason she didn’t like that idea. Better to stand her ground. She fingered the knife in her travelling bag. She would use it if she had to.
The rider pulled up to her a few moments later.
It was Anders.