Chapter 50
Nurses’ tent
Grand Army of the Sunrise
“Andreea is the wife of Col—General Marius Hatmanu, Christian,” said Devorah. “He’s a courtier of the prince, and one of the highest-ranking officers among the Székelys.”
“The prince is dead.”
Devorah shook her head. “Be that as it may, Hatmanu is still a very important man in the Transylvanian Diet.”
“That doesn’t give him a right to demean his wife.”
Devorah shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. But this is not Grantville, Christian, nor the USE. In this part of the world the”—she searched for the right word—“sensibilities of the up-timers have not taken root. Not yet, anyway. To interfere in a domestic dispute between a man and his wife, especially a man of Hatmanu’s station, could have serious repercussions.”
“I know, I know,” Christian said, throwing up his hands, waving her off, exasperated by the whole mess. “I just—I just can’t let him verbally abuse her like that.”
“Andreea claims that he has never struck her.”
He turned to Devorah, an inquisitive look on his face. “She has spoken to you about this matter?”
She nodded. “Of course. I’m a woman, Christian, and one who has seen her fair share of abuse. My late husband was a kind man. I thanked God every day for that. But my father…well, let me just say that I understand what she is going through.”
“He belittled and humiliated her,” Christian said, blowing out a long breath of air. “Right in front of everyone, including the prince and princess. I’m sure they heard what he said. And I just stood there, Devorah, and did nothing. Well, it won’t happen again. I won’t allow him to harm her.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
There was a pause as Christian moved away from Devorah and found a quiet corner of the tent to stand and reflect upon her question. There wasn’t much to reflect on, in truth. He didn’t have an answer for her. Andreea was not his woman, his wife. What could he really do to protect her, save to eventually draw his sword and run her husband through? Devorah was right: doing so would be foolish and could lead to his own death. I may be many things, Christian thought as he heard Devorah rise from her chair and walk to him across the tent, but I’m no murderer. Yet, I must do something.
“Christian.”
Devorah took his arm and turned him so that they were facing each other. She took his face in her hands and smiled. “You are a wonderful man, a wonderful person. And Isaac says that you’re a good soldier, though I pray to God every day that you, in time, turn away from that occupation and find a good woman like Andreea, make babies, and live a peaceful life. Until that day, I hope you will tread lightly. Be careful. I do not know the rules in this country, Christian, but I suppose they are like everywhere else: take care when coming between a man and his wife. Whatever you decide to do, my good friend, I hope you will think twice before you commit. Promise me that.”
He cupped her hands with his own, squeezed them, and took them off his face. He smiled. “I promise, Devorah. I promise.”
Andreea Hatmanu entered the tent. Christian backed away from Devorah as if he were embarrassed by his closeness to her. Devorah turned and acknowledged the girl with a faint smile and a nod. She then turned back to Christian and whispered, “Good luck, Captain. I wish you well.”
Andreea curtsied as Devorah left the tent. Christian did not know what to say, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was in a perfectly kept dress of green and red with a white head scarf. Not a commoner’s dress, but not overly opulent either. In a way, it reminded him of Princess Zsuzsanna’s clothing, though not quite as humble or religious. Andreea’s hair flowed down out of the scarf and across her shoulders. Christian forced conversation to keep from blushing.
“Will you assist Devorah and the other nurses again?” he asked.
Andreea nodded and stepped closer. “Yes. My husband will allow it.”
Christian gnashed his jaw muscles, trying not to let his anger show. “That’s very graceful of him.”
“Yes. Marius loves his country…if nothing else.”
“You still shouldn’t have to endure such a…such a… ”
“Such a man?”
To his surprise, she laughed. A short, sweet little laugh that warmed his heart, calmed him. “My father arranged the marriage, of course, and like many young girls, I was so honored. Marius was such a handsome, dashing fellow, and a confidant of the prince. How could I refuse? I couldn’t refuse, of course, and at the time, I didn’t want to.” Her expression turned sour. “But, I didn’t really know my husband then, how driven he was, how determined he still is to work his way into the Transylvanian court, to work himself into power. I think he honestly believes he can become prince of Transylvania someday. He will not let anyone…anyone…stand in his way of that goal. Including me.”
She swallowed, cleared her throat, perhaps fighting back tears. “But I didn’t come here to pour my troubles out to you, Christian. I came here to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“For not doing something so foolish as to confront my husband in such a place. I am glad you stayed your hand, said nothing.”
“I wanted to,” he said, “as God is my witness, I—”
Andreea chuckled, moved closer, reached for his neck, and pulled him close.
Through his shock, Christian tried meeting her lips with his, but instead, she turned his head with her thumb and kissed him on the cheek. His rough warrior’s cheek, scarred by battle and uneven stubble. Oh, how he so wanted to turn his face just a little so that their lips could touch. Instead, he held firm and breathed in her scent. Perfume and sweat. The smell of her hair, the light fabric of her head scarf. Perfect…all of it.
She pulled away. She smiled again, reached up, and patted his cheek. “Perhaps in a different world, a different time, we might have met, and our lives might have been different. But God has set us on different paths, Christian von Jori, and so we must follow them.”
Andreea stepped aside to allow him to depart. “Now go, Captain. Go to your men and fight your battle. I pray for your safety, and I hope you will come back to me, so that we may speak again.”
He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay in that tent forever, to be with her, to do what Devorah said: make babies and live a peaceful life forever in Andreea’s arms, in her care. He was ready to throw off his uniform and put on scrubs and be a nurse right alongside her. That would make Isaac very happy. But no. She was right. He was a soldier, a captain. It was time to go and fight.
He said nothing as he stepped to the tent flap. Before he left, he turned, and said, “You are wrong, Andreea. We do live in a different world, a different time. I was raised a Calvinist, to believe in predestination. I no longer believe in such things. We live now in a world with a Ring of Fire. And in that world, my sweet lady, anything is possible.”