Word of honor

Halvhandt approached from behind as she laughed and spoke with the Blumenprinz. He knew her voice and he longed to get close enough to smell the hint of meaza oil beneath the perfume of leeblich vaerian she was wearing tonight. He had to move away, the way she held the arm of the Blumenprinz made Halvhandt want to drag him from the tent. Watching Zoldendochter dance with him was more than he could bear.

 

He revised his plans. He let the met flow. He instructed the servants to fill the Blumenprinz’s cup every time it emptied and Klinglachprinz was kind enough to entertain him and encourage him to drink.

 

When the Blumenprinz became unsteady Zoldendochter stopped allowing his cup to be filled. Halvhandt knew it was time. He took his brother’s place with a grim smile, bringing his bludtmet and poured a small cup for each of them.

 

“He has had enough, as have I. Thank you for the offer.” Her words were coolly polite, but her eyes were nervous.

 

“Je will not have one drink witt me, Zoldendochter? I have brought mina bludtmet. I would share it.” He held her gaze.

 

“Bludtmet?” The Blumenprinz half slurred, “I’ve heard of that.” He turned to lean against Zoldendochter, “An expensive kind of honey wine?”

 

She pushed him gently keeping him upright, “It’s mixed with blood and meaza bark as it ferments, then it’s filtered and distilled. It’s supposed to be bittersweet, and yes, expensive.” She explained it patiently and the Blumenprinz crinkled his face, causing his mask to skew slightly.

 

“I will be insulted if je do not drink witt me.” Halvhandt imitated her sweet tone. And she gave him a look that made his heart sink.

 

“If you take insult where none is intended I cannot-” Her look and tone were the same as they had been before dinner, as if she were forced to speak sweetly to a disgusting creature, but her words were cut off by the Blumenprinz.

 

“There is no need to give insult, Sweet Vaeri-vaerian. I will drink yours if you are too afraid to try it.” He laughed and reached for the offered cup.

 

Zoldendochter looked annoyed. Halvhandt smiled and held a cup out to her. “Taste. Please.”

 

He watched her sip carefully, opening her mouth and sucking in a breath to ease the burning of the potent drink. “It’s very strong,” she said cautiously after a moment, “you said this is yours? Your blood?”

 

Halvhandt grinned. “Yes, Zoldendochter. Mina bludt, mina bludtmet made of de honey of my home, de meaza of my woods.” He added softly, “Findst de leeblich vaerian ook in mina wold.” He watched her cheeks color.

 

“It’s bitter.” The Blumenprinz shuddered.

 

“For je it would be.” He couldn’t keep the smugness from his voice. Zoldendochter tilted her head and gave him a look that demanded to be answered. “I returned victorious ent in celebration mescht mina bludtmet.” He sipped it, not looking away from her.

 

“Victorious?” Her voice was soft as if she wasn’t sure she wished an answer.

 

The Blumenprinz leaned heavily on her, Halvhandt watched as she tried to push him back up to sitting.

 

“Lass mi je helfn.” Halvhandt moved to the other side of the Blumenprinz and pulled him abruptly to his feet, as he did he struck a sharp blow that would have gone unnoticed to anyone not paying attention and caused the Blumenprinz to slump unconscious.

 

He grinned as Zoldendochter hissed at him, “Je schurk!”

 

“Spraekst Meaz!” He lifted the Blumenprinz easily and carried him out, moving purposefully to the carriages. She followed.

 

He found the carriages, the two royal carriages were not hard to miss, and threw him roughly into the smaller one. Zoldendochter tried to follow him, the look of concern on her face made him begin to think he may have gone too far. He blocked her nonetheless.

 

“I would have jer kamratskaft.” He spoke quietly. “Let him sleep. I would dance and drink witt je mina Zoldendochterblum.” He pulled her close as she tried to push past holding her so that he could smell the sweetness of her perfume and the meaza he knew would be beneath it. “Why do je smell of meaza?” He murmured into her ear.

 

He was not prepared for her response. She pulled the short hunting knife from his thigh and pressed it awkwardly to his abdomen.

 

“You will release me, or I will release your insides.” She was furious, he could feel it in the way she held herself rigid and the pressure she put on the blade when he did not answer immediately.

 

He released her from his embrace but did not move from in front of the carriage door. He grinned down at her as she backed away, laughing low in his throat. “Can je use a kling Zoldendochter?”

 

“It’s been a long time, but I seem to be remembering a great many things I had thought forgotten.” She spoke with cold rage.

 

The fury in her eyes was beautiful, it had left him speechless the first time he had seen it and it threatened to do the same now. “Leeblich vaerian, Zoldendochterblum. Wenn je mina bludt willst, lass je ees trinkn. Geb je ees.” He moved toward her watching how she adjusted the blade in her hand, pressing her thumb to the inside of the blade. “Vorsht, snidst je.”

 

She feinted clumsily toward his left hand and he grinned stepping forward to take the knife from her, believing she did not know how to use the blade properly. She dropped like a stone the moment he came close enough and slashed across his thigh drawing blood, he lurched back as she tried to drive the blade up into his abdomen. His clothes rent by the sharp blade but only a scratch on the skin beneath them.

 

He looked at her with surprise and amusement as she said, “Snid je nikt mi.”

 

“He could have killed je, hadst geluck.” A voice spoke behind her. Halvhandt saw his brother, Grimeindprinz, standing looking furious. He held up his right hand in a gesture of peace.

 

“Mak nee. Zoldendochter, je-” he watched her rise gracefully, the bloodied blade in her hand, “je should be Zoldenfrey. Mina frey." The look on her face hurt far worse than the small wounds she had given him.

 

“Let me leave. Now.” She spoke quietly, her refusal plain.

 

“No.” He would not let her leave yet.

 

“Brotter, sanft ent zart. Ze-” Grimeindprinz’s careful words of warning were cut off sharply.

 

“Ze gebt mi ain tanz ent ain trank danak ain antwordt. Dann lass ze gehn.” He glared at his brother.

 

“I have your word? One dance, one drink, and you will abide by my answer and let me leave?” Her tone was sharp and she was not pleased but she would stay.

 

“Jah, Zoldendochterblum. Mina eernwordt.”

 

Author's Note

“Findst de leeblich vaerian ook in mina wold.” - You also find sweet vaerian in my woods.
“Lass mi je helfn.” - Let me help you.
“Je schurk! - You scoundrel!
“Leeblich vaerian, Zoldendochterblum. Wenn je mina bludt willst, lass je ees trinkn. Geb je ees.” -Sweet vaerian, Soldier’s daughter flower. If you want my blood, I’ll let you drink it. I’ll give it to you.
“Vorsht, snidst je.” - Careful, you’ll cut you.
“Snid je nikt mi.” - I cut you not me.
hadst geluck - you were lucky
Mak nee. - I would not.
Zoldenfrey. Mina frey. - Soldier’s wife. My wife.
“Brotter, sanft ent zart. Ze-" - Brother, soft and tender. She-
“Ze gebt mi ain tanz ent ain trank danak ain antwordt. Dann lass ze gehn.” - She’ll give me a dance and a drink and afterward an answer. Then I’ll let her go.
“Jah, Zoldendochterblum. Mina eernwordt.” - Yes, Soldier’s daughter flower. My word of honor.