“Irina!” Daciana said behind Agata in a voice much too loud for Church.
Agata spun around to quiet her youngest daughter.
“Good day, Countess,” Irina curtseyed at Gavrilla first as was custom, but within moments — as the soldiers were outside — the women became a family again. Daciana embraced her sister, who picked her up and kissed her cheek. She curtsied at her mother and kissed her.
They moved into a private prayer room.
“My niece, you’re more beautiful by the day,” Gavrilla said.
“Thank you, Auntie.”
Irina’s lush raven hair was groomed in a married woman’s coil and covered as Agata and Gavrilla. She smelled the spice of Lexi’s trade and Irina’s herbal remedies infused into her simply embroidered blouse and skirts. People had always remarked her best feature was her entrancing, eyes the color of twilight: Jakub’s eyes. She had his nose too. It was good for a girl to look so much like her father. Agata craved to hold Irina in her arms. Then, she desired her daughter’s salty blood.
“Sister, is there more watered wine?” she whispered.
Gavrilla passed her the leather.
She wished to acknowledge her pain to sister-in-law and daughter so they might assure her Jakub’s wouldn’t direct his wrath at her or at Artur who failed to protect her. He loved them too much. She couldn’t bear his adoration or the dishonor she had brought into his house.
“I should think, Irina,” Gavrilla said softly. “Your mother needs comfort today.”
“Yes, Auntie,” Irina said. “Artur sent word to us. Are you all right, Mother?”
“The knowledge my children are safe lightens my heart,” Agata said.
“So, she is not all right.” Gavrilla put a comforting arm around Agata.
“Right now, the peasants think the Legatus has come,” Irina said. “But the sacrifice was not in the field this morning.”
“I fear … ” Agata couldn’t say the words.
“Perhaps, my sister,” Gavrilla said, “Irina should take Cia tonight. You’re trying to be strong for your youngest, but there is no need. Let others care for you. Cia, we have a mission for you, a big girl mission.”
Daciana answered with the utmost solemnness of a four-year-old. “Yes, my Auntie Countess?”
“Stand at the gate and say hello to anyone who approaches—even if it is a priest.”
“Today, you’re our strongest and best soldier.” Irina handed her a small sheathed knife.
As she had seen Artur do, Daciana pressed her knife to her heart and bowed. Then she took her position.
Agata and Irina knelt at the prayer bench and lit a candle for Jakub together. They prayed for Jakub’s return. Irina prayed for her mother’s continued health and the return of her wellbeing. Gavrilla prayed for her beloved friend. Agata silently prayed for the ability to regain her honor. Her family’s honor. She felt safe in the company of her daughter and sister-by-law.
Unfortunately, the comfortable family moment evaporated when behind them, in a voice much too loud for inside a Church, Daciana said, “Hello, Father Bogdan, my uncle.”
The fragrance of a man who had washed in only aromatic smoke for days wafted into the prayer room. Agata thought that was strange. Bogdan regularly washed on Saturday to prepare himself for Sunday Mass. However, she did not smell just Bogdan’s scent. She sensed dirty, fetid hay and the musk of animals upon him. He must have spent the night anointing the sick or delivering last rites to some poor farmer.
Ignoring Daciana, he bowed. “Countess. How may I be of service?”
“We light candles for my brother-in-law’s safe return. We have no need of you at this time.” Gavrilla waved him away.
Agata wished Gavrilla would take care around her daughters. Though Gavrilla was protected by the title Countess and Agata was a non-titled Count’s daughter which offered some protection, her children were not protected by the nobility. They were commoners.
“Indeed, Countess, you may have no need of me,” Father Bogdan said. “But I am sorry to hear of last night’s horror, Lady Agata. This is why it is said a woman shouldn’t be alone in the night. If you had a husband who was home every night, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Agata made the sign of the cross before turning to him.
“Thank you. But I wasn’t alone. My son, Artur, was with me and our unlucky friend, Robert who cares for my herd. I thank God I have a healthy son to offer me comfort in these trials, my kinswomen and you, Father Bogdan.”
The priest cast his eyes upon her and stepped closer. His breath was sour with beer. “Surely if a man can’t protect his wife, she has grounds for divorce. A woman of your stature must have other suitors.”
Feeling like a doe caught in a hunter’s eyes, Agata didn’t move. She couldn’t speak. Gavrilla moved in front of her. “My sweet sister has no other suitors.”
“The serfs say the Legatus has come down from the Mountains to court you,” Father Bogdan said. “If he comes for you again tonight, a clear soul will at least allow you to sit at the feet of God. Might I take your confession?”
“Father Bogdan, while we appreciate your concern, if Agata wishes for confession, she will confess to our family priest. We came in to give alms and light candles for our beloved Jakub, not to quarrel with you,” Gavrilla said. “Leave my sweet sister in peace.”
“Count Mihai will hear of your insurrection before God, Countess,” Bogdan hissed.
“Please inform my husband you disturbed our prayers for his beloved brother. We might be only women, but there are three of us, we will agree that you interrupted us,” Gavrilla said. “As might some young priest wanting to curry favor with the count.”
Bogdan lowered his voice. “I still might give you absolution, my cousin’s widow.”
