Red Magic (22 page)

Star's ears pricked. Then, she reared. If
Caterina hadn't had a good grasp on her bridle, she would have bolted, perhaps
to break a leg or fall into the dreaded ravine.

"Whoa! Whoa, Star!" She threw her
arms around the horse's neck. Clinging to the mane with all her strength, Cat
desperately sought to find, somewhere in the turmoil, thoughts of calm to send.

The mare hopped from side to side, but Cat
managed to hold on. At last Star stood, brown eyes rolling, nostrils quivering.

Looking around, Caterina strained to see
what had so frightened the mare. As one of those intermittent breaks flowed
past, it let in a rosy shaft which told of sunset. Close, in that light, she
saw a familiar landmark: an ancient stone, roughly pillar shaped, perhaps eight
feet tall. The shiny gray surface was covered with a moving carpet of sparkling
droplets.

This pillar, she knew, sat near the
herdsmen's huts, at the very upward end of the cattle path. With a chill, she
realized that if she'd gone much farther, she would have ended near the awful
ravine.

But, which way was down? She peered at the
ground, but now her feet—and everything else— disappeared again. Matching her
spirits, everything turned into ghastly gray. Hoping not communicate her fear,
Cat stroked Star's sweaty neck. At the same time, a long shiver coursed along
her back.

What to do? Stay by the stone?

* * *

As she patted Star and wondered what to do
next, a giant, a man of cloud, stepped out of that gray on gray. Water beaded
his clothes, silvered his dark head and clung in beads to his flesh. Cat
started, and Star reared again, nearly pulling her off her feet.

"Thank the Trinity, the Blessed
Mother, and every demon on this mountain!"

The otherworldly man grabbed her horse's
reins.

"The peasants say this thing is a
lodestone which keeps people from the ravine, but I never believed it 'till
now."

"Christoph!"
Cat had never been so glad to see anyone in her life."

Easy, Star," he said, holding the
mare,
who
was still shying and backing.
"Easy, girl.
It's only me."

When they finally got her quieted,
Christoph slipped an arm around Cat and offered a watery kiss, which she, her
heart welling with relief, accepted.

"Can you find the huts?" She was
a little breathless from the enthusiasm of his embrace. Their quarrel suddenly
didn't seem to matter.

"Yes, like Theseus in the
labyrinth." He bent, plucked at a cord which extended away into the
nothingness. "I was just coming to stake this behind the stone. The
Schafmann's are stretching another just below their homes. Anyone who crosses
will know to follow it to safety. You aren't the only person caught out here
today. Their men are still high up with the sheep."

"Lost?"

"Stranded.
They know how to deal with it. They have spears and dogs, so wolves
shouldn't be a big problem. The cord is just to keep them from getting too
close to the ravine." He'd found the upright, and secured the line. Then
they began to go back, leading Star and following the cord. Around them, a
twilight chaos swirled.

"How did you know where I'd be?"

"I could say that I'm good at catching
foxes, but the truth is I watched you ride out."

"But I went east, through the
pines."

"I knew you'd be in the mood for a
long ride, and that you 'specially like the high meadow from east to west, but
I beg you not to do it again, at least until I return from Vienna."

"This fog was way up on the barrens.
It looked so far away—"

"Well, that's the danger. I saw which
way you went, and then I couldn't take my eyes off the mountain. After a half
hour of worrying, I decided that I wasn't going to get anything done anyway, so
I saddled Brandy and rode over here. A good thing I did, for I'd barely reached
Scafmann's when it came down." His strong hand squeezed hers.

Wavering before her eyes there were
suddenly sheds and huts, low heaps of turf and stone. In one, empty except for
a few chickens and a strong smell of the sheep, Cat unsaddled and secured Star
beside Brandy.

"A good thing she's already
bred."

Cat nodded. A pair of half grown boys
appeared and began to help, stealing curious looks at their master and their
young mistress. Settling in took awhile, getting hay for feed, wiping the
horses down, drawing water for them, all of it done in that weird shifting
twilight, like a game of blindman's bluff.

"Is your father out in the fog?"
Cat asked one of the boys.

"Yes. All the men are." His fair
skin reddened beneath his tan, perhaps because he was not yet considered one of
them. "Mutter and Tante are in the big house with the little ones while
Franzi and I and the Herr Graf put the lines out."

In the family "big house," which
was a single, dirt-floored room, they discovered two women, six children,
an orphaned lamb, and a sheepdog bitch and three yapping puppies. It was hot
and noisy, although the tumult did die down somewhat after the unexpected
entrance of their lord and lady.

Caterina had one of the two chairs in the
house forced upon her, so she sat and ate what was offered, a bowl of bitter
rye porridge with a thin coating of sheep's butter. It was gritty but hot, and
she swallowed it gratefully.

As she ate, she studied her hostesses. The
women were probably not old but it was hard to tell, for their faces were lined
and leathery from exposure. One squatted by the hearth and nursed first an
infant and then a toddler. She expressed gratitude that her master and his
sword were to be there tonight.

"I always fear bandits when it's like
this. They come in the fog, like wolves."

"Don't worry, Gute Frau. They'll get a
surprise if they visit me." Christoph patted the short sword he always
carried.

It was agreed that Caterina and Christoph
would shelter apart in a small room that currently held much of the family's
treasure of wool and sheepskin. After thanking the women for their hospitality
and promising that he'd have a shoat sent up to them tomorrow, to "give
them a change"—a promise received with delight—Christoph took a burning
stick and went with Cat out into the thick night. The stone and turf room they
entered shared a wall with the one they'd left. By trailing their hands along
the stone, they found the door.

Both husband and wife had to duck. Inside,
the smell of sheep seemed just as strong as before, although the smell was
cleaner, emanating from a pile of market ready skins and washed wool that half
filled the place.

By the meager light of the burning branch
he carried, Christoph started a fire on the hearth, using some pine branches
piled there. Caterina watched as he crouched, expertly nursing the first sparks
with handfuls of twigs. Soon the sharp fragrance began to rise.

"I'll have to see these folks get more
hardwood," Christoph said, selecting a chunk of wood from the heap by the
door, "and, since you'll be here while I'm in Vienna,
Cat,
make
sure that they get any and all autumn lambs for themselves. Frau Schafmann told
me that for some reason, Walter took every one last year."

They pulled a pair of hides close to the
fire and sat down. As these were going to market, they had been washed clean of
dirt and ticks.

"They have so many children," Cat
said.

"Not much else to do here at
night."

Her husband moved logs closer to the
hearth. "We'll have to sleep in these clothes, but if we can get some heat
up in here, it shouldn't be too bad. Especially," he added, turning a
smile upon her, "if you let me put my arms around you."

After he'd built up the fire and made a
pile of wood handy, they lay down together. Cat was exhausted and melancholy,
subsiding against him without a word. It was good to be away from the manor
tonight. Her thoughts kept running toward Vienna,
but whatever he did or did not do there, she had to finally admit to being in
love.

The night would be one of dozing, for he
would have to keep tending the fire. Husband and wife settled down together
like two spoons, their damp cloaks bunched behind to bank the heat. Christoph
kept one arm around her. She could feel his breath against her hair.

* * *

Soon she was dreaming, a dream that began
in an erotic tickle and then swelled into a forbidden delight, like that which
she gave herself when alone in bed. In the dream, a hand was between her legs,
gently making love among the curls.

Cat swayed between two powerful desires,
one to continue sleeping,
the
other to respond.
Penetration was going on as well, a delicate and gradual entry. At each
stopping place, little circles were drawn and drawn again. When each filled
with wet pleasure, a further subtle incursion was made. Through the fog of
sleep, Caterina began to move, wanting to deepen and widen sensation.

She came to consciousness gasping in wild
release, like a snapping shower of sparks. She was still lying in front of the
fire on that bed of fleece, but her husband's hand, which had started the night
guilelessly upon her hip, was now inside her trousers.

Gently, skillfully, for who knew how long,
he'd been playing the burning secret. A luxurious slow circling of his fingers
went on in the liquid benediction that had answered her bliss and his prayer.

Feeling her ecstatic sigh and shudder, Christoph
rolled her over, began to devour her with kisses.

"You were going in glory…Now let me
show you another way." Big hands took hold of her trousers.

"Not fair!"

In the next moment her long legs felt air.
Then, half naked, she was thrust back into the wool while all the hard muscle
of him crowded between her knees. Pushing her shirt up, he fell ravenously upon
the sweets of her high, freckled breasts.

"I know your game," she gasped,
still trying to fend him off, if not with her strength, then with words.
"As soon as I love you, you won't want me anymore."

He raised his dark head and gazed deep into
her eyes.

"God and the devils of Heldenberg gave
you back to me just for this."

She felt him against her, pressing against
the innocent opening. Fire and shadow rippled over his powerful body, while
darkness gathered around his head like a crown. For one astonishing instant she
thought she saw horns among his curls. Her hand rose to the spot, touched only
thick hair and the honest skin of his forehead.

"Christoph," she made a final
entreaty, knowing that she was lost, heart and body, feeling the hot pressure
of his urgency, "Don't hurt me."

From his position of absolute command her
husband came to seize her mouth with his, a kiss both hungry and absolutely tender.

"Oh, my precious
Red!
I'll take good, good care of you."

Curls spilling over his shoulders, he
breathed her in, ran his tongue across the sensitive mounds of her breasts in
an ecstasy of tasting, ending with a deep draught from her mouth. As he sampled
her essence he was entering, a progress obtained with remarkable ease through
the hot liquid breach he'd made.

His beautiful face shone as he paused to
whisper. "Think of the hunt. You only get hurt when you fall; you only
fall when you don't go with the horse."

Cat gasped as he, holding her easily
against his powerful body, began a tentative rocking. Quick, shallow thrusts
grew harder, went deeper. Casting an arm around his neck she began to move with
him, to follow his lead and return his love, so long hungered for. As he rode
harder, a savage joy surged through her.

"By God—and this Devil Mountain—I'll
love you forever!"

Then it was all sensation, his hardness,
the working muscular back to which she clung. The long defended citadel of her
body was in flames. Reflexively her hips rose and fell. He knew exactly what he
had to do to carry her with him, to keep her circling in fire. Hot liquid
bloomed, splashed.

Kisses were lavished upon her. The pine
fire howled and
hissed,
sent showers of sparks flying onto
the flags. Heat crowded the tiny hut, poured over them in a monumental wave.
Crimson rippled and flowed over their bodies, over Caterina's beautiful
upraised knees, as her husband deeply, relentlessly, engaged.

"Oh, so good she is! Go my red angel,
go again for me!" His powerful body rode a burning
trail,
thrust her deep into the ancient consciousness while her young body answered
with abandon. Male and female, matched in height and strength, on a tide of
that so long denied desire, strove to wrestle their way into yet another
explosion of delight.

* * *

Afterwards, fingers tracing the expanse of
his chest, she whispered, solemnly wondering, "Mama said the first time
would hurt. But it was all—all—ah—nice." Her body still hummed, while the
all over blush flamed.